#then suddenly you have a meltdown over something like this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sophiethewitch1 · 4 months

Text

What We Want - Prologue

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

The cupcake is smashed. Pink icing and gaudy star-shaped sprinkles coat the interior of the box, and the pastry itself has devolved into crumbs. You just stare at it. It had cost you seventeen dollars. It was expensive, yeah. But you’d spent the last three months walking past it every morning and afternoon in the bougie cafe’s windows. You’d waited. You’d wanted.

And it was destroyed. Completely. The perfect swirl of the buttercream was no more. The single, delicate flower made of frosting had lost half it’s petals. You weren’t sure how you could eat it. The wrapping had been warped, but maybe a tea spoon would work?

You let your head fall into your hands, a sob wracking your shoulders. And then less than a second later you swallow down the feeling, and stride over to your shitty apartment’s tiny kitchen. You grab a lighter, a plastic wine glass and the bottle of white wine Molly had given you earlier today. You hadn’t told her what happened yet, but she could tell something had. She’d gave you the wine, a hug, and the promise to always be by your side.

Despite today’s circumstances, despite this week’s circumstances, despite this decade’s circumstances, you were going to have a good birthday getting black-out drunk.

You weren’t going to let yourself sink into one of your funks. Even if it was the worst day of the year by far. Even if it was the second worst birthday of your life.

You just don’t. It’s not allowed.

Your phone rings. Sliding it out of your pocket, you stare blankly at the name on the screen. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Malcom. One of George’s friends. You reject the call, block the number, and slide your phone back in your pocket. See? Dealing with things like an adult. Not throwing a temper tantrum, not crying, not… well, destroying your life in an epic meltdown. You’d had a few of those. Still, despite your obvious erraticness, you hadn’t been fired this year. Yay!

You told yourself you were getting better, even as the universe seemingly conspired against your happiness. You were kind of convinced it was.

Turning, you play with the cap on the wine, walking over to your old ratty couch and falling into it. The beast groans at the contact, but you pay it no mind. The thing was probably older than you, and you were celebrating your twenty-first today.

You were an orphan in Gotham, it was not your first time drinking. Molly had dragged you to so many awful parties over the years. But this wine was probably the fanciest you’d ever been given. Scratch that, definitely was. You pour yourself a glass, stick the birthday candle half-hazardly into the largest chunk of cupcake, and grab the remote.

The only true comfort you can get on this day. A woman, a reporter. She speaks, but you can’t really hear what she’s saying. You chug down a glass of the wine, apologising in your head to Molly, and then pour yourself another.

It takes a few minutes, but your muscles relax, and her words tune into focus.

“Today’s memorial, is once again sponsored by the Wayne foundation.”

Yeah, because they’re the only charity organisation in the city. The family of billionaires were debatably the only good ones in existance. Debtable because you weren’t sure if they were good enough themselves. As an orphan who’d known the cruelty of the system yourself, you were a mix of bitter and grateful towards them. Sure, they’d been the only thing that kept you out of true poverty. You were still an awful bitch about it.

You always had been the jealous type. The other kids who got better backpacks or toys or whatever had you seething with fury. The multitude of orphans Bruce Wayne risen out of poverty were not safe from your envy. It didn’t matter if you were… Well, a little bit, just a teeny-tiny-tiddly-little bit… obsessed. Obsessed with them. Kind of manic about it, actually.

You were working on it. Today was a bad day, and you were a little too raw. So, like every little dumb animal on the planet, you went straight to your creature comforts. You pretended you were a roman eating and drinking on their chaise lounge, watching their magnificent entertainment.

Delusional. Your sofa was falling apart at the seems, your cupcake was debris and your entertainment was a memorial service. Wine was good, though.

Gotta focus on the good parts.

You watch the TV screen, the reporter’s voice drifting in and out of focus. There was a family photo of the Waynes and their family friends, all in perfect suits and dresses and pearls and fancy watches. You’d bet that those little accessories were worth more than a year of your rent.

And you lived in fucking Gotham, both the most expensive city to live in, and the worst at the same time. A miracle, truly.

Anyway, they were all stunningly beautiful, even some of the guys. God knows how much the internet went on about Richard Grayson’s long eyelashes. You’d always been enamored with Dick’s good looks. Even Damian Wayne who had only turned nineteen a few months ago and was three years younger than you was already being fawned over by the tabloids.

Gotham’s newest young rich bachelor. Bitterly envious, that was you. You didn’t like that emotion, though, so you turned your attention to others. Namely, delusion.

You let yourself get swept up in daydreams. Of having a rich family, of one so close knit as the Wayne’s. Of having a handsome, loving, kind partner. You don’t let yourself dream about your real family, of a George that was faithful.

You just don’t.

Maybe someone like Tim Drake. Loyal, everyone who knew him described him as loyal. His romances with Bernard Dowd and Stephanie Brown were famous. There were hundreds of papparazzi photos of him with big bundles of roses and a sweet look on his face. You thought someone like Tim Drake would probably be like one of the heroes in your romance novels. Something silly like a meet cute in an airport, or maybe a bookstore or a cafe. He was pretty famous in Gotham’s niche hipster coffee scene, right?

Yeah, you could see it now. Some dumb but cute scene where you get confused and accidentally take his order. You get the same drink, and bond over your shared love of caramel syrup. Like he didn’t live on the opposite side of the city from you, and you probably couldn’t afford whatever fancy shit he drunk. Italian coffee beans versus… well, you didn’t actually know what you bought. You knew it didn’t taste very good, but it was dirt cheap.

What were you doing? Ah, yes, silly daydreams about romance.

But even as you think of Tim, Dick Grayson was so pretty, and he’d had his fair share of partners too. Someone with such an angelic face had to have a personality to match, and the media agreed. Of course you didn’t really know what he was like, this was all just fantasy. Other than numerous tabloid interviews and television, which suggested he had a kind heart and a love for bad jokes you truly knew nothing about the guy. Still, he’d be the golden retriever trope, you think. Or the knight in shining armor, saving his heroine from one of the many disaster’s plaguing Gotham and confessing his love in one big final act. His meet cute would be the airplane one. The blue of his eyes, it makes you think of the sky. You’d take his seat, but he’d be super sweet about it. Like he didn’t have a private jet, and would never be caught on economy.

You think Damian Wayne could play a good romance lead as well. From what you’d seen, he seemed to have a terrible personality, which was perfect for any modern romance. A classic enemies to lovers, with some bickering. Maybe he’d have secretly loved her the entire time, and maybe there’d be a good grovel at the end. So, appreciating his character, he’d have to have a meet ugly. Probably get stuck in an elevator with him or something, and he’d get to display his keen intellect and argumentative nature.

You swirl your wine, nodding your head. Brilliant ideas today, you should talk to Molly more. She’d definitely appreciate your wisdom. She wanted to be a screen writer one day, and all this would be very helpful. She was going to college for it. You couldn’t afford college.

Maybe you were drunk. Maybe you were a genius. It was hard to tell, so you take another sip. That’ll help you figure things out.

“As always, the Wayne families’ faces are morose as they celebrate the late Jason Todd.”

And as always, you felt an odd connection with the dead man. Your lives had both technically ended the same day, in the same grand calamity. Sure, you were still technically alive. Kicking about. But everyone you loved dying in one fell swoop, right in front of your eyes? You felt more like a ghost these days.

Weren’t you supposed to be fighting those sorts of thoughts off? Whatever, it was too much effort anyway.

Your slight obsession with the Wayne family had been initially started by Jason Todd. You hadn’t been thinking about him as much recently with George in your life, but he swung right back into place as soon as George left your life. Like a magnet, or more likely, a compulsion.

But now you were brought right back to the morning after. Seeing the entire city grieving the day after you’d lost your family, your first thought had been ‘Good, I’m not the only one,’ and then you’d stopped being an idiot and realised the city was mourning Jason Todd, heir to the Wayne name. Sure, there’d been hundreds of others who’d died, but that was Gotham. Your family had gotten a plaque filled with tens of other forgotten names, Jason had gotten framed photos hung around the city.

Today, his photo was once again surrounded by thousands of bouquets. Peonies, roses, daffodils, lillies, a rainbow of petals that almost covered his memorial stone. It reminded you of your sad-ass cupcake. When the camera zoomed out, you could see your smaller set of poseys against one of the thirty towering monuments, the tiny names crammed into the rock. Your families name was on line fifty-two, near the bottom. You could only afford the flowers once a year, but you visited once a week at least.

There were other flowers. Other offerings. Other candles. Jason’s dwarfed them all.

You sometimes couldn’t tell if you hated the dead man or were hopelessly in love with him. Obviously it didn’t matter. Even when he was alive he was out of both your league and your tax bracket.

Still, you were absolutely certain of it, Jason Todd would beat up George Lancaster. So fucking bad. To a bloody pulp. He’d be eager to do it, as well. You could hum and haw about how you thought violence was bad but he’d see right to the core of you.

The part of you that wanted George Lancaster to suffer. And he’d do it with a kiss and a promise that he’d make it slow. He’d save you from all your monsters, and he’d do it eagerly. And that was the fantasy of it all, wasn’t it?

You lift your glass, in celebration of your dead parasocial imaginary boyfriend. You hoped he wouldn’t be jealous of your new living parasocial imaginary boyfriends. Hiccuping out a laugh, you swallow down another gulp.

And even then, of course you wanted Bruce Wayne as a father. As someone who has seen the worst of the world, and would protect you from it. As someone who would wipe away the tears, who would save you from your own self. And you wanted Cassandra as a sister, someone to groan over guys with and steal clothes off. You wanted the close relationships they shared with Barbara Gordon and Stephanie Brown, with Duke who’d only recently come into their fold. You even wanted their dog you’d seen in photos, the cat that Damian posted on his instagram, the fucking cow they kept for god knows reason inside the estate. You wanted everything, every part of their lives. You were a jealous person, but more than that, you were a greedy person.

You glance at the clock.

11:57.

You shakily open the candle packet, picking a green one out. That had been Sam’s last favourite colour, but he switched them so often it was hard to remember. You stab it into the pink frosting. Julie always chose pink for her cake. Chasey loved flowers, particularly poseys. The flowers had looked like posesys before they’d been crushed.

You light the candle. It’s tiny flame flickers in the dark room, the warm light overpowered by the cool from the television. You peek back over to the clock.

11:58.

And Mum always made her wish at midnight, because she believed that was when it was most likely to come true.

What would you wish for? You never did, because you never knew what you wanted to wish for. Everything you wanted, everything you could’ve wanted, was gone. It couldn’t come back, it was impossible.

11:59.

You look at the TV, at the blinding forms of the Wayne family. Of their graveyard, with the manor in the background. It’s as impossible as everything else. But that’s what they represent for you, isn’t it?

Something hopeful. Something impossible.

You wanted impossible.

12:00.

You lean over the messy cupcake, and blow the candle out. It disappears in one blow, and you sink back into the couch. You take a few crumbs from the cupcake and sneak them past your lips. In your drunkenness, you probably get more on the couch than in your mouth.

You let your eyes flutter shut, and because only you can, you give yourself the comfort of lies. You imagine loving embraces, whispered platitudes. You imagine that today was a good day, that you’d find yourself tomorrow happy. That you wouldn’t wake up with a hangover, that you wouldn’t have a shitty job, an evil ex, and mountains of debt.

That you’d have people who loved you, who could ease the pain.

And you don’t even care who they are.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

893 notes · View notes

megalony · 26 days

Text

Too Stimulating

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, based on a few anon requests and is my first imagine writing neurodivergent reader. I hope you will all like it, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread@musicistheway@avada-kedavra-bitch-187@luula@missdreamofendless@bradleybeachbabe@woderfulkawaii@amberpanda99@daggersquadphantom@marvel-and-chicago-fan@angryknightstatesmantrash@minjix@lyjen@kmc1989@itsmytimetoodream@noonenuts@hiireadstuff@ashie-babie@classyunknownlover@jayyeahthatsme@sp1ritssz@dumb-fawkin-bitch@oliverstarksbae@gimatida@heart-35@supernaturalstilinski@stefansalvatoresgf@kyky9103@wutheringhearts2275@gay4hotmilfs@itshamleth@chaoticnosleepinfluencer@gs29@wh0reforsmutstuff@mel-vaz@natashamea18@chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena@targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19@marvelmenarebeautiful@gillybear17 @zoeybennett

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: When Buck finds his girlfriend in the middle of a car crash, he helps her through a meltdown when everything gets too overwhelming. (autistic reader)

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Can't sleep?"

Evan didn't bother to open his eyes. He inched himself closer until his chest was almost touching (Y/n)'s back. His arm was already draped loosely around her waist with his hand on her lower chest and his thumb dragging up and down her bare skin.

He knew drawing patterns or doing something as simple as gliding his thumb across (Y/n)'s skin in a repetitive manner could help calm her down at night. He thought it would have done the opposite at first, that it would have given (Y/n) something to focus on and keep her awake. But instead, the touch calmed her down and stopped her mind from hyper-focusing on different things.

She had much more sensitive hearing than Evan. (Y/n) could hear the lightest drizzle of rain tapping on the bedroom window. She could hear the boiler clicking on during the night or the A/C buzzing in the background. Little noises stole her attention and kept her awake.

But Evan couldn't hear anything tonight, he couldn't hear any little sound that might be keeping (Y/n) awake. Meaning it was something else gnawing at her mind, preventing her from shutting down.

"Sorry," (Y/n) muttered into the pillow while she moved her hand down to hold Evan's wrist that was looped over her waist.

"Why, what's up, baby?"

Evan kissed the back of (Y/n)'s head and moved to glide his hand up and down her chest rather than just his thumb.

It was normal for Evan to feel (Y/n) fidgeting during the night. He could tell precisely when she fell asleep- if she fell asleep before him- because she suddenly went still. While she was awake, Evan felt her toes curling and her foot twitching back and forth in bed. It was like she had nervous tension and her muscles were tightening. (Y/n) didn't know she was doing it most of the time, it was either or foot or her leg that started to move and she had to always be moving. Constantly.

She would toss and turn to get comfy, sometimes Evan realised she was humming and she didn't know it. Or she had one hand beneath the pillow and started tapping the headboard.

"Don't know," (Y/n) didn't know what the problem was, she just couldn't seem to get settled.

"Got an idea?"

She could hear the gruff tone to Evan's voice that was laced with sleep and it made her stomach flutter with adrenaline. He knew her like the back of his hand. And when (Y/n) didn't answer, she felt Evan chuckle into her hair and she all but whimpered when his hand left her skin.

He reached out and skimmed his fingers along the edge of the bedside table until he found (Y/n)'s phone. He murmured "Make a note," into her hair and held her phone out to her.

They both knew that if (Y/n) put the lamp on and tried to write down her idea, she wouldn't be happy in the morning. She would want to stay awake right now and write out a more detailed plan of whatever idea she had gotten, whether it was for something to create or something to write. And if she made a rough, sketchy note in a notebook and realised in the morning that it looked horrid and rushed, (Y/n) would either stop using the notebook altogether or rip the page out.

Whereas if she jotted down the note in her phone, it wouldn't look sketchy or scruffy and typos didn't matter in a little word document.

Evan wasn't bothered by the dim light of her phone; after ten o'clock at night, her phone automatically went on night mode where the brightness turned down and the colour changed to a damp shade of yellow. The background colour was yellow to try and ease her mind and help her settle. (Y/n) wasn't sure if it worked or not but she was too used to it now to dare turn it off.

When the brightness suddenly disappeared, Evan presumed (Y/n) had finished whatever note she had written down, but he knew the idea would still be floating around in her head.

"Alright baby, spin round for me."

"Hm?"

A squeak bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips when Evan hooked his arm around her waist and rolled her over while he inched backwards. He turned her until she was laid on her left side so she was facing him and he pressed a wet kiss to her temple.

"Doodle, send us both to sleep, baby." Evan spoke against her temple and dragged his hand up and down her back. He made sure there was an air of space between them so (Y/n) could start to doodle.

Evan had a variety of tattoos and (Y/n) loved each and every one of them, but what she loved even more was to trace them with her fingertips. She loved going over the lines like she was drawing them herself. It grounded her and gave her something to focus on and a lot of the time, it took so much of (Y/n)'s attention that she forgot where she was or what she was doing. And at night, it soothed (Y/n) enough for her to drift off to sleep.

When she was having a meltdown, tracing his tattoos helped, especially the circular band around his right forearm. (Y/n) would trace and draw that line thousands of times to focus and ground herself back to reality.

Evan found himself smiling when (Y/n) shimmied down until her head was tucked beneath his chin and her lips merged with his collar bone. He continued to glide his hand up and down her back while he felt (Y/n)'s fingertip trace the line of cursive writing just beneath his collar bone near his shoulder.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to see the ink littering Evan's skin and she was almost annoyed that she couldn't properly see the little bird outlined on his other shoulder. She liked tracing that one, but Evan was laid on his right shoulder.

(Y/n) settled for the writing, it was much easier to focus on and if she felt like she didn't draw the cursive loops just right, she restarted and began again.

Evan could still feel (Y/n)'s feet tapping, but it was different this time. The muscle in the back of her thigh wasn't tightening and twitching like a wild rabbit. Her foot wasn't bashing down into the mattress and giving him a drumbeat coursing through his blood. It was just her toes continuously curling back and forth while her foot glided softly along the mattress.

It was such a soft, lulling movement that Evan had to focus to actually feel that she was still moving, and that was a good sign.

The feeling of (Y/n)'s lips on his skin made Evan shiver and the pad of her finger causing goosebumps and pins and needles in his skin made Evan smile against the top of her head.

"G'night, baby."

***

I want to go home! I want to get out the car! I want Evan!

(Y/n) could feel herself bubbling up in her seat like a pot on a stove about to boil over. There was a scream clawing its way up her chest, ready to errupt the moment one more thing set her off. Every part of her began to shake and her head bowed down with her chin tucked deep into her chest to try and see if it would make her feel any better or feel any sense of control.

One minute (Y/n) was on her way home from work and the next, she was in a crash. A speeding car flew past (Y/n)'s car in the outside lane and either couldn't break in time or wasn't paying enough attention. They crashed into another car and there wasn't enough time or space for (Y/n) to break before she collided with them.

(Y/n), along with four other cars, collided when they all tried to break and swerve out the way. And (Y/n) was relieved other people were around to call for help. She had never had to call 911 before and she knew she wouldn't be able to calm herself down enough to have a conversation that wasn't her screaming down the line.

She wanted to get out the car. She wanted to get out and leave and find someone that could help her, but she knew the rules. She remembered Evan going through what she should do if she was ever hurt in a crash.

If she was injured, it was best to stay in the car and wait for help unless the car was on fire or the situation was a dire emergency.

She was hurt.

Her chest hurt, she was sure a few ribs were fractured or broken. Her left knee has bashed into the gearbox and the dashboard had crumpled in the collision. It would take a lot of effort to wrangle her leg away from where it was boxed in and she didn't want to do that alone.

Something didn't feel right with her left wrist either but whenever (Y/n) looked down at it, she gagged and looked away. It was twice the size it should be, felt as hard as a car tyre overfilled with air and her fingers were trembling.

Her body was shaking, her nerves were going haywire and the adrenaline made it hard to focus on one thing in particular.

Heat prickled along the back of (Y/n)'s neck and flooded her skin up to her wrists. Blood didn't seem to want to circulate through to her hands that were numb and on fire from panic. When she started to get anxious, she lost the feeling in her hands and they went cold and numb, blood went to the vital organs and forgot about her hands and feet.

Coiling her arms up to her chest, (Y/n) pressed her palms forcefully against the sides of her neck and scratched her nails into the skin at the base of her head. Despite the agony that crackled through her wrist, (Y/n) continued to dig her nails into her skin and she tilted her head forward, begging herself not to scream or act out.

She had to wait for help. She had to wait. She didn't want to wait. She wanted out.

Where would she go? She was on a bridge, a motorway flooded with cars that were going to be backed up for miles. There was nowhere for (Y/n) to escape to and she wasn't sure how far she would get. She just wanted to go home and be somewhere safe. She would consider Maddie's house a safe place right now. She just wanted to be somewhere familiar with someone she was comfortable with.

But she was alone, trapped, hurt, and extremely overwhelmed.

She could smell the petrol, oil and burnt embers floating through the air, rolling into the car along with smoke that had been building up gradually since the moment they all crashed. And (Y/n) could feel her body trembling back and forth in the seat that felt cold against her unusually heated skin.

(Y/n) could feel each ragged breath that bubbled past her lips. Her throat was aching, her chest was rising and falling rapidly and her heart was beating wildly out of her chest.

When she realised she was focusing and counting each breath, her eyes snapped closed and her arms pinned over her ears. But that just made it worse. She could now hear each breath she took as if her ears had popped the wrong way and she had been submerged underwater.

A horrid, choking scream flew past (Y/n)'s lips before she dropped her arms and slammed her body back into the chair. Her head hit the headrest and bounced back with such force that it seemed to shake her brain and her eyes lost focus for a second or two.

Reaching her right hand out, (Y/n) curled her fingers into a fist and slammed her knuckles against the roof, but it didn't make an impact. All it did was make a dent in the padded roof and it seemed to infuriate (Y/n) even more.

Her hand moved down slightly and she bashed her fist into the top of the door, earning a successful jolt that shivered all the way down to her elbow and up to her shoulder. The top of the door was made of metal. Another scream vibrated past her lips along with a howling sob as tears fell down her face like acid rain and her hand battered against the door as fast and harshly as she could.

Why couldn't everyone else just be quiet?

Why did they have to scream? Why did they have to stomp their feet against the concrete like ogres breaking through the ground? Why was someone's car horn blaring out, why hadn't they turned it off already? Was the sirens she heard the sound of an ambulance, the sound of a fire truck or the noise a police car made?

Everyone needed to be quiet so (Y/n) could focus. She was going to get herself out this car if everyone continued to overwhelm her.

It was like rage bubbling up inside of her, desperate to be let out in any way she could. It was worse than when the tv froze and she couldn't finish watching a movie she was desperate to see. This was worse than being in a stranger's home and wanting to go back to her safe space. This was so much worse than being in a crowded restaurant with too many people and no means of escape.

This was worse than just a simple pain that (Y/n) couldn't control or deflect. She couldn't take all the pain away by hurting herself in another area. She couldn't smash her forehead against the wall or chomp down on her hand or punch the wardrobe and deflect the agony she felt.

Deflecting the pain didn't stop all the noises or the horrid smells or take her out of the car that felt like she was stuffed into a cramped little box she couldn't escape from.

Deflecting did nothing to take her out of this situation and it didn't alert anyone that she needed help. But it gave (Y/n) something to do, something to focus on and a sense of pain that showed herself she had some sense of control and the pain in her mind and deep within her bones was now exuded somewhere else in her body.

"I want out!"

***

"Buck, get me the jaws!"

"Copy." Evan hollered back while he pushed his helmet further back on his head and turned around. He placed his hand on the young man's shoulder who was standing in front of him and silently pointed him towards Hen who would take him to the paramedics waiting on standby.

Evan turned away from the now empty car and once the driver was safely with Hen, he moved in the direction of the truck that was parked on the hard shoulder. He didn't get more than three feet before he noticed something familiar.

(Y/n)'s car. That was her car; her number plate. She was involved in this mess.

His hands reached out and clamped down on Chimney's shoulders before the medic had chance to turn in the other direction or take another breath. "Get Cap the jaws." Evan hissed in his ear and gave him a nudge towards the truck before he weaved around him and bolted.

He couldn't help Bobby get someone out of the pick up truck that was wedged into the middle railing. He had to go and get his girlfriend out.

Evan could see the car jolting to one side before he got near it. (Y/n) was moving about inside, she was definitely doing something. He rounded the side of the car and planted his left hand down on the roof so he could lean over and look through the window.

As quickly as anything, Evan curled his hand around the door handle and wrenched the door open. He stumbled backwards when (Y/n) leaned along with the door she had just been pummelling her fist into.

"Baby- baby, it's me." He tore off his gloves and tossed them down on the floor while he crouched down beside the car.

He cringed, bracing his hands on either side of the door when (Y/n) screamed. It wasn't the kind of screaming Evan was used to. She didn't usually scream so raw and violently like that even when he witnessed her having a meltdown. He hadn't seen this kind of extreme meltdown in a while.

His eyes managed to catch a glimpse of (Y/n)'s right hand that had been smashing into the door before he opened it. Her knuckles were starting to swell. They were split open, splattered with dried and fresh blood and her whole hand was shaking.

"Baby-"

Whatever he was about to say got cut off by another scream. This time, it was a deeper, more guttural scream before (Y/n) slammed her head forward into the steering wheel.

Evan jolted back on the heel of his boots as he felt his stomach tightening and his lips clamped together.

She hadn't done that in a while.

When she did it a second time, Evan leaned over with his left hand on the back of her chair. He pressed the back of his right hand against the steering wheel and braced himself, waiting for her to do it again. He could see the surprise blister across her face when she smashed her head forward and collided with his palm instead.

Her eyes were closed. She hadn't expected Evan to do that. He'd done it before; when she started to hit the wall and bash her temple into the wall, Evan put his hand in the way. He would much rather have (Y/n) let out her frustrations this way where she caused less pain and harm to herself.

Evan boxed and trained at the gym and in his line of work, a sore hand and a few bruised knuckles was nothing to him.

After a few seconds ticked by, Evan dared to rest his other hand on her shoulder and see if she would be alright with his touch or not. She didn't shy away and she didn't scream; he took that as a good sign.

"Baby, can I get you out the car, please? I'll see if you're hurt, then I can get you out of here."

He kept his hand on the steering wheel as a precaution but he was fairly sure (Y/n) had stopped hitting his hand now. She was breathing so harshly he worried her heart was going to give out, it sounded like she had burst a lung. Her lips were dry and chapped, her throat was tense and raw and her chest was violently heaving to try and catch back her lost oxygen.

Evan gently reached out for her hands and uncurled them from the steering wheel so he could rest them on his thighs and take a look.

Her right hand was battered, but he was sure she hadn't damaged or broken her knuckles. Her left hand, however, looked like her wrist had been fractured.

He glided his fingertips slowly up her arms, taking his time so he didn't overwhelm her. When he tried to touch and assess her chest, she whimpered and pushed back in the seat. And when he trailed his hands down her legs, he realised why she was so distraught. Her left leg was wedged under the steering wheel where the bonnet had crumpled down on her leg.

"Let's get you sorted out." He trailed his hands over to her left leg and tried to assess whether she had busted up heer knee or broken any bones.

He didn't want to leave (Y/n) and he didn't want to ask someone to bring him a pair of jaws to cut through the bonnet. (Y/n) was distressed enough. He slammed his hand up into the bonnet to try and dent it enough to wiggle (Y/n)'s leg free. And he reached down to shuffle her chair back to see if that would make a difference.

If he had a few more seconds, just another minute, and Evan would have loosened the bonnet enough to get her leg free without any pain or aggravation.

A blaring siren caught them both off guard.

Evan cringed; he recognised the sound. It was a police car turning up and knowing their luck, it might even be Athena. But the noise was distinct and loud and it cut right through them both.

(Y/n)'s ears were finely tuned and direct, high pitch noises physically hurt her. The siren was no exception. As soon as it started to blare, (Y/n) jumped back in her seat and screamed.

Evan wasn't sure whether she meant to drag and lift her leg up or whether it was out of instinct. Either way, (Y/n)'s upper thigh cut against the broken plastic and chunks of metal in the bonnet and her leg was prized free. Blood splattered down her thigh but she didn't care. She could barely feel the new sensation over the ringing in her ears and the pain that was pulsing through every inch of her skin.

Terror ransacked (Y/n)'s body and she flung herself to the right, scrambling onto her hands and knees on the floor. Partially landing on Evan's thigh, sending him down on his backside, not that he cared.

She wasn't sure where she was trying to go. All (Y/n) knew was that she needed to get out of that car and get away from all the noises, but being out in the open only made it worse.

She could hear raised voices; people directing others away from the cars, telling them where the paramedics were. A strong voice cutting through the air asking for assistance. Sirens wailing in three different tones from three different vehicles. Crying. Harsh breathing. Loud footsteps made with the same heels as Evan's work boots.

Five feet away from the car left (Y/n) hobbling in the middle of the road and she didn't know which direction to go or whereabouts she needed to move to. Every angle was blocked. There was no escape. She couldn't leave. She wasn't safe.

Her weight dropped down until she was knelt on the tarmac that cut through her knees like blistering hot coals digging into her skin. The heel of her shoes dug into her bum and her stomach clenched as she coiled over on herself.

Her body began to rock back and forth while her chin smashed down into her chest and her hands smothered her face. Every breath fanned against her palms and made her lips hot and sweaty like they were melting and it made (Y/n) scream.

"Shh, alright baby, it's okay." As quick as anything, Evan shed his jacket and scrambled over towards (Y/n). He stayed on his knees in front of her and reached his arms out for her.

He pinned his elbows into her sides, pressed their knees together and curled his palms over her ears. He tucked his chest into his thighs and merged their temples together so she could see him and hear his voice over the loudness of the rest of the world.

"You're okay. You're with me, baby girl and you're safe. Just focus on me, nothing else."

He repeated those words over and over like a mantra until his voice drowned out everything else and (Y/n) stopped screaming. He felt her rock back and forth but with him knelt in front of her, he couldn't move along with her without accidentally headbutting her in the process.

So he slowly let go of her and wrapped an arm around her waist so he could shimmy her over to him.

(Y/n) stayed loose and moveable, allowing Evan to pull her onto his lap so her back was pressed into his chest.

"Help." Was the only word (Y/n) could manage and she squeezed Evan's wrists and tugged until he realised what she wanted. She didn't have to voice it for Evan to understand; it was one of the things she loved about him.

She could feel his lips smothering the top of her head and his hands went straight back to covering her ears. He breathed into her hair and started to hum while his elbows dug into her sides and he felt (Y/n) reach up to keep hold of his wrists. She was trying to ground herself to him. Sitting on his lap wasn't enough, she had to hold onto him to know he was still here, keeping her safe.

Her breathing started to become deeper rather than shallow or breathless screams.

She snapped her eyes closed and pushed back into Evan's chest so she didn't slide off his lap as he began rocking them back and forth. It was as if they were sat together in a rocking chair in the middle of the blocked-off road.

"There we go, that's my girl, hm? You're okay, you're safe."

Evan continued to rock back and forth. He'd never done anything like this before he met (Y/n), but whenever she shut down like this, she dropped to the floor. She would curl up as small as she could or sit or kneel on the floor. Sometimes she looked like she was praising the carpet with how she dragged her hands along it, but he knew she had to recalibrate herself.

Now, if ever she went down to the floor, Evan would kneel down with her. He would hold her in bed and start to sway and rock back and forth. He would do all of her coping mechanisms with her so she wasn't alone and knew he was trying to help.

"Buck… how are we doing over here?" Eddie looked over at him with a mixture of perplexity and a hint of recognition in his eyes. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but it was a somewhat familiar sight.

He didn't get too close, he could see Evan had a handle on this situation and he didn't want to get involved and make things worse or upset whoever Evan was cradling in his arms.

"Do you need the ambulance?" He pointed behind him to the 118 ambulance that Chimney had backed up. There weren't that many casualties here and dispatch had sent quite a few ambulances to the scene just to be on the safe side.

"Yeah I- I need it but you have to turn the lights off."

"What?"

"The lights are way too stimulating, it will overwhelm her. Can you turn them off, please?"

Evan had seen (Y/n) drive when ambulances had been passing. The sirens made her flinch and start to stim when she pulled over and she had to close her eyes when the lights passed.

The ambulance had flashing blue and moonlight white lights blinking on and off continuously and someone had left the lights flashing on the ambulance. They were far too stimulating and if (Y/n) looked over there she would immediately close her eyes and freeze up.

Some movies were too bright for (Y/n) to watch, especially children's films that had a blast of rainbow colours glittering the screen. Movies like those gave (Y/n) headaches and blinding lights sent her into a sensory overload. Some people could handle those sort of stimulants, some people were classed as hyposensitive where they enjoyed loud noises and bright lights and lots of people and rides and thrills.

(Y/n) was hypersensitive, she couldn't handle the noises or the lights or too many people overwhelming her or crowding round and getting in her face.

"I'll turn them off, do you need the gurney bringing out?"

"No, I'll bring her over."

Eddie sprinted off into a jog to turn the lights off while Evan dared to let go of (Y/n)'s ears and he moved his hands down her sides to hold her hips. She kept hold of his wrists and leaned her head back on his shoulder while he continued to rock them back and forth.

"Baby, we're gonna go in the ambulance and go to the emergency room, alright? I'm not gonna leave you at any point, I promise. You'll be safe with me. Can I get you up?"

The moment (Y/n) nodded, Evan gave her hips a squeeze and pulled her up with him while he slowly pushed up to his feet. He waited for (Y/n) to make the first move, to show him whether she was okay to walk ahead to the ambulance. Or whether she was in too much pain or too overwhelmed to walk.

When she turned in his arms and smothered her face in his chest, Evan could feel her panting breaths and the tremble that overtook her body. She didn't want to walk. She didn't want to move. If they stayed still for a few more seconds, Evan just knew (Y/n) would drop down to the floor again because she wasn't settled or calm or okay at all.

"Alright baby, it's alright." His hands moved to the back of her thighs and he hoisted her up in one fell swoop. He hooked her legs around his torso and moved one hand to her upper back to keep her steady against him.

(Y/n) tucked her face into Evan's neck so tightly she could barely breathe and she began kissing his neck and making popping sounds against his skin. It was an unusual stim that Evan felt interested in because he somehow liked the sensation against his neck.

He smoothed his hand up and down her back while he made a beeline for the ambulance where the lights had finally been turned off.

Once he climbed up into the ambulance, Evan carefully sat (Y/n) down on the gurney. He had a gut feeling she wouldn't lay down on it and he was right. She perched on the side of the gurney with her legs hanging over the edge and her hands clinging to the side so she didn't fall off.

She began to rock back and forth while Evan sat down on the gurney next to her and Eddie sat in front of them.

"Baby, this is Eddie, can he take a look at you?"

Eddie waited patiently until (Y/n) gave a cut nod and he held out a stethoscope so she knew what he was going to do. She stopped rocking and sat up straight. He noticed her eyes focused on his chin and he wondered whether she was staring at his jacket; she was clearly focusing on something so she didn't have to look him in the eye.

He leaned over and pressed the stethoscope to her chest and then to her back to listen to her breathing.

"Can I check your blood pressure?"

Her lips rolled together but she nodded and held out her right arm since her left wrist was swollen and shaking.

Eddie smiled softly when (Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned her head onto Evan's shoulder while Eddie slipped the cuff up her arm so it was near her shoulder. He started to squeeze the air and watched the band tighten around her arm, but his eyes kept glancing down to her hand.

She stimmed in a similar way to Chris. Eddie could see (Y/n)'s thumbs on both hands were pressed against the back of her index finger right near her knuckle. And her index fingers were curled into her palm while the rest of her fingers were left out straight. He knew it was a sensation she must feel calming but whenever Chris used to stim, he would curl his fingers in rather strange ways that would hurt anyone else. But Chris was used to it in the way he figured (Y/n) must be too.

"Do you want me to assess your leg, or you can wait for a nurse if you want." Eddie didn't want to push any boundaries.

He knew a little of (Y/n) from what Evan had told him and Eddie didn't want overwhelm her or make her feel uneasy. If she didn't want him to try and patch her up at all, he would gladly sit and hand her over to a nurse when they got to the hospital.

"Please." If Evan trusted Eddie, then (Y/n) would rather have him help her than a stranger at the hospital.

A wave of relief washed through Evan when he heard (Y/n) quietly click her tongue against the roof of her mouth. That was a stim he recognised. That was one of her usual stims that she did hundreds of times throughout the day. If (Y/n) was doing that, it meant she was starting to settle and calm down.

(Y/n) stayed as still as she could manage, despite her right foot tapping against the metal bar on the bottom of the gurney.

Her eyes watched with intrigue as Eddie got out a small pair of scissors and carefully cut through her leggings so he could rip the material and see the extent of her wound.

It wasn't too deep. A vertical gash right in the centre of her thigh that was oozing and trickling blood down across her knee and squelching beneath her on the gurney. (Y/n) sucked in a deep breath and made a quiet noise when Eddie poured some saline over the wound and started to swab and clear away the blood.

His touch was delicate and precise and he didn't even look up at her as he worked, he kept his eyes focused on her leg so (Y/n) didn't have to avoid eye contact with him. She reached out and started to draw aimless patterns on Evan's thigh to distract herself while Eddie put suture strips across the wound to tape it together. It wasn't deep enough for proper stitches so little medical tapes were enough. And he stuck a large rectangle plaster patch on her thigh to keep it clean.

"You're all done… let's get you inside, you'll need an X-ray and probably some bloods taken."

When Evan got up, he waited for (Y/n) so he knew whether to walk in front of her or behind her. She curled her right hand around Evan's bicep and tucked her face into his arm and when she closed her eyes as they got out the ambulance, Evan smiled. He moved his right hand to cup the back of her head and smothered his lips into her hair.

He felt Eddie hovering beside them and the three of them headed into the emergency room and followed a nurse who beckoned them over when she noticed the uniform.

The moment they got into the empty cubicle, (Y/n) seized up. Her body went stiff beside Evan and she clung to him tighter until she was practically meshing her face into his arm. She didn't want to sit down. She didn't want to be in here. She wanted to go home.

Two nurses walked into the room with them and closed the door to give them some privacy.

When one of them began to ask questions, (Y/n)'s name and date of birth and all her details, Evan answered. Whenever (Y/n) went to the doctors, she never usually said what was wrong or answered them. Whoever went with her to her appointments usually spoke for her and this was no exception. Evan didn't mind. He would always speak for her when she couldn't.

"If you'd like to sit down, I'll take a look at your wrist."

"No." (Y/n) shrunk back into Evan's side when the nurse tried to approach her. But when she looked to the left, she realised Eddie was still in the room. He was leant up against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. "I- please?" She gingerly moved her damaged wrist in Eddie's direction until he understood what she was asking.

She would rather have Eddie help her than someone else. He didn't ask questions. He didn't pester her. He didn't force her to maintain eye contact. He asked and waited before he assessed her and his touch was gentle. Evan trusted him, so (Y/n) would trust him.

The soft smile on Eddie's face told (Y/n) he wasn't annoyed at her request and when the nurse moved out the way, Eddie walked over to her. He didn't ask or move her towards the bed. He simply stood at her side and held her hand in his left hand so his right hand could press down her hand and over her wrist.

"I'd say it's fractured an inch below the wrist. She needs an X-ray, and if she needs a cast, you need to note in her file that she needs a removeable cast. Do not give her a pot cast."

The stern, authoritative look on Eddie's face told the nurse not to argue with him. He knew either way, whether (Y/n)'s wrist was broken or fractured, she would need a cast. And he knew a pot would drive her inside and send her into a meltdown. She wouldn't be able to take a pot cast off or move her hand or bend her wrist.

But if she had a strapped, removeable cast, they came with metal rods on either side so it would keep her wrist and arm in place. And she could take it off for an hour or so each day to get a wash or stim or get dressed. And she would be able to stim better with a foam cast.

"We'll go and get an X-ray booked, and I'll find a kit so you can take her bloods."

Surprise flooded Evan's face as he looked between (Y/n) and Eddie. The nurse was handing this over to Eddie. Clearly they could see (Y/n) wasn't going to cooperate for anyone else.

"I uh, I guess you'll have to stay with us for a while." Evan's smile was sympathetic. Bobby would allow Evan to have the rest of the day off, but he would want the team to get back in the truck and head back to the station as they were all still on shift. But Eddie had seemingly been hijacked for a while longer.

He could see in Eddie's smile that he didn't mind. He would rather stay here and make sure they were both alright than go back on shift worrying about them. And if he could be of any help to (Y/n) he would gladly stick around.

"I guess so."

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #eddie diaz #bobby nash

406 notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 5 months

Note

reader upset bc things just aren’t going her way today, she woke up on the wrong side of the bed after not getting much sleep, and her hair didn’t turn out the way she wanted it too, she couldn’t find her favorite skirt and she broke her nail. rafe takes her with him to run errands and handle business, and she’s quiet and upset the whole time and she just needs her rafe but he’s so busy right now. eventually something small happens like she trips over her feet or spills something over herself and had a meltdown, bc we all get overstimulated and have meltdowns sometimes :/

i can’t explain to you how much i relate to this :(( have too many days like this one !!

you’d be quiet for the most part, more quiet than usual but rafe isnt gonna necessarily question it, just chalking it up to being in a bad mood. by the time you’ve made it to the car, everything’s overstimulating you. you don’t like the songs that keep coming on the aux, the car is rumbling too loud, rafes being quiet too so it’s just setting you on edge thinking somethings up, it’s just too much. but worst of all, you were hungry.

rafe had some errands to run, but he’d promised you fries, mentioned casually earlier which he’d probably forgotten about. you were holding onto that fact, knowing being fed would greatly cure a large part of your foul mood.

you’d passed the midway point, rafe completing another task on behalf of his father before you finally speak up— voice croaky from lack of sleep and lack of use. “can we get food now?”

he glances at you, reversing out of his spot, looking over his shoulder with his mouth parted in concentration. “huh? oh — uh, yeah, yeah soon. i left somethin’ in the boat so i gotta go pick it up.” he speaks casually.

for some reason, it’s your tipping point.

“no… you said we’d—” you’d go to argue, but suddenly burst into tears, crying into your hands. once you start, you quickly realise you can’t stop, the overstimulation and every issue you’d faced that day catching up with you. rafe frowns in confusion at you, eyes darting between the road and your hunched over form.

“hey, what are you — why are you crying?” he asks, and you can’t answer— far too upset. he sighs, thinking for a moment you’re being a tad dramatic, so used to being spoiled by him that you’re crying over something so minor. he doesn’t like seeing you so upset though, so he sighs and starts to turn his wheel, the car hitting a U-turn. “alright, hey, alright. i’ll get your damn fries. shit.”

it’s only when you don’t calm down he actually starts to get a little concerned. you cry the entire journey, not lifting your head from your hands— and all he can do is spare you worried glances before ordering your food. he parks in the lot, a wad of napkins from the food bag in his clutch and turns to you.

“look at me, kid. please?” he instructs, and you reluctantly do. blinking through gloopy mascara and sniffling your snotty nose shamefully. he dabs at your face, holding the napkin to your nose and quietly telling you to blow. he then sets it aside, and places the fries in your lap, running his hand over his chin and jaw thoughtfully for a moment.

“m’sorry.” you break the silence, staring down at your fries. he sighs, shaking his head.

“what happened, hm? was it me? did i fuck up?”

“no rafe, just got overwhelmed. im having a bad day.”

he stares at you for a moment, turning his body to face you more. “what do you… what do you want me to do?” he asks, his own finger gently prodding at his chest. he was trying to understand you, trying to be a good boyfriend. you think for a moment, glumly staring at your hands.

“i wanna go home and just be with you.” you sulk. he nods slowly, staring off out the window.

“y’know i got shit to do though, baby. can’t just… drop everything, you know? got people countin’ on me. m’handling shit today. ” he squints, hating that he has to be tough— but makes his voice gentle enough to soften the blow.

“i know.” it comes out as a broken whisper, and he can tell you didn’t like his answer. he stares at you, helpless, before speaking once more.

“eat your fries, and then you’re gonna go lay down in the back and have a nap, okay? think you need one. we’ll figure it out from there, a’ight?” he places a hand on your shoulder, tilting his head down and staring into your eyes, hoping what he’s saying is good enough. you think for a moment before nodding and he smiles, patting your cheek.

“alright, that’s my girl. proud of you, okay baby?”

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

458 notes · View notes

periprose · 7 months

Note

Heyyy I’m literally playing through ps4 Spider-Man again 🤣!

I was wondering if I could request a ps4 fic, maybe Peter and reader have been dating for a while, and she gets hurt during the explosion and he can’t find her but she’s with may at feast with like a broken arm or something?? (She knows he’s Spider-Man) 👀🫶🏼

hey lol thanks for requesting! I'm on the first playthrough of the game myself. Basically this is set during the explosion at the election event in the game, and Peter and you are there to proudly watch Officer Davis accept his award.

"Hey." Peter comes up from behind you on the sidewalk, fixing wrinkles in his civilian clothes. He must've just changed.

"Hey, Parker." You nudge him. "Ready to go watch Osborn smooch up to the well-meaning audience of Manhattan?"

"Well, ready as I'll ever be." Peter takes your hand. "I'm really just there to watch Davis get his well-deserving award, y'know. Hey, didn't I tell you to stop calling me Parker?"

"Meh, you love it." You joke. "You'll always be Parker to me, even if you are my boyfriend now. It's our thing."

Peter shakes his head, but you know based on his little smile- he loves that you have a little thing just for him.

Together, you walk to the intersection in front of City Hall, where many people crowd around, waiting for Mayor Osborn and whatever speech he's about to give today. They're all dressed in Osborn themed merchandise, cheering and clapping.

You can't believe this many people care about Osborn's so-called promises to the city- you and Peter are really hoping he won't be re-elected this term after all- but people are clapping for him, and you sigh knowing that your cost of living is about to go up.

"Hey. Wipe that frown off your face. We're here to be supportive." Peter whispers from next to you in the crowd, and you nod.

"Where's Davis? Is that him?" You whisper back, pointing to an older black man up on the stage.

"Yup. You wouldn't believe it, he was so helpful in Hell's Kitchen. Dude whipped out his gun and had my back like we've been best buds for years." Peter smiles. "There's not many out there doing it like him."

"He sounds like a real treasure. I'm glad you have someone on your side." You squeeze Peter's hand, and continue to look up towards the stage in mild excitement.

You don't really care for Osborn's speech- Peter laughs about his promise to open up technology for NYC when you both know that's reserved for the elite- but you both grin when Davis, looking nervous as ever, walks up the stage to receive his award.

"It is my privilege to present Officer Jefferson Davis with the Department Medal of Honour." Osborn hangs a medal around Davis' neck, and you and Peter clap.

"I'm so glad this is all over. The gang war, I think." Peter whispers to you, and you raise your eyebrows.

"Really? Does this mean you'll finally be a little safer?" You ask, but Peter frowns a little.

"Well, there's some loose ends still to be tied up, but-"

"Loose ends?" You give him a wary glance. "Like what?"

"Like whatever 'Consolidated Shipping' is. It doesn't make sense." Peter sighs, watching concern grow on your face. "It's not right, but I'll figure it out."

Davis says a few words- he thanks his wife and his son, Miles, who you can see is sitting up at the front of the stage.

"Aw, cute kid." You remark to Peter, and he nods, gaining a slightly sheepish smile.

"Officer Davis did say I remind him of his son. I'll take it as a compliment." Peter jokes, and you snicker, calling him even more of a baby.

Behind you, Sable guards are talking on their walkie talkies about "keeping eyes on Osborn," which to you sounds as if they perceive a threat. You turn back to tell Peter, when he suddenly flinches.

"Peter-?"

He grabs his head, panicking- you watch as his pupils dilate, and he's clearly in some kind of shock.

"Everything feels off-" Peter flinches again, and you know he's having a Spider-Sense meltdown. There must be multiple things happening at once- even worse, you're not sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. He's not suited up, and he risks revealing his identity if he does anything.

Either way, Peter runs behind you. He shoves people out of the way, trying to get to the back of the event, behind the audience, but he's not fast enough. There are men arriving out of cars- corrupted men, turning that strange grey-blue-transparent hue that confirms their connection with Martin Li.

Peter runs- he dashes- but you see him flinch again, cowering under such threatening energy. He turns to the stage in horror, and you gasp in shock.

There's another corrupted on stage, covered in explosive devices.

An explosion goes off behind you, to the right of you, than another massive one on stage- the ground shakes beneath you, and you're too in shock to move.

"Get down!" Peter shoves you back, attempting to push you out of the way, just as another two explosions cause the earth under you to rattle, and you lose your footing and fall back on the pavement. You twist your arm unnaturally and hit your head.

You black out, the last thing you see being massive blue-black explosions in the sky.

Peter wakes to floating ash in the sky.

He coughs- there's a sharp pain in his right side, and a slight ache at the top of his hairline- he touches his forehead and pulls his fingers away to see brown-red, dry blood.

It doesn't matter. He'll heal faster than most, anyways- he needs to locate you.

He gets up, seizes a little due to the pain- and to his alarm, you're nowhere in his near sight. He walks around seeing Sable guards help people off the streets- although Peter really thinks they're poking and prodding and shoving them away, so they can clean up the mess around here.

He hopes you haven't been taken away by Sable guards.

Peter rushes to the nearest clinic- but there's too many people crowding around there with their injuries, and the receptionist at the emergency room tells him there's no one by your name here.

He begins to panic. You're not responding to his calls, either. Peter doesn't want to believe the worst could've happened to you, but he does hear people talking on the streets about the casualties. Apparently at least 10 people have been found dead so far- Peter starts swearing under his breath.

He decides to head to FEAST- he's not sure if you'll be there, but it's better to ask Aunt May or some of the volunteers if you've been seen. FEAST also operates as an emergency medical clinic, too, even with limited supplies, and it's with this small amount of hope that Peter travels there.

Pushing through the doors, the front desk woman- Amanda- she's startled by how intensely Peter asks about you.

"I don't know, Peter." She points to the main auditorium, where many homeless and injured people are currently being attended to. "It's kind of an open house back here- you're going to have to look through the crowds."

Peter sighs. "Thanks, Amanda."

It takes him about fifteen minutes to do a full, quick walkthrough. The entire time, his heartbeat thumps faster as he realizes- he's not seeing you anywhere. There's nobody wearing your trademark scarf, your usual dark blue jeans- nobody with your fastidious expression, where you always seem to take in the entire world before speaking- nobody to relieve the steady ache in his heart.

Peter walks into the room full of medical supplies, expecting to see Aunt May- and while May is there, busy with another volunteer, the first thing he sees is you, with your hair all disheveled and messy, bruises on your cheek and a cut under your lip, and your arm wrapped in a cast and a sling.

But you have a soft, comforting smile. You're kneeling down to help a little girl- she can't be older than five- and you're placing a bandage on her knee. And the little girl squeals, hugging you after you say "It's all better now."

Peter would agree with that.

You look up, arms still embraced around the little girl- Rina is her name- to see Peter, looking wistful, sad, a clear lump in his throat. His eyes are watery.

"Peter?" You watch as he comes forward.

"I thought you were- I thought..." He wipes his eyes. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Well, Little Rina over here needed a little bit of medical attention." You kindly tap her shoulder and she nods up at Peter, smiling. "She tripped and fell and no one was paying attention to her knee, so I decided to help her."

"That's..." Peter trails off, wondering how you could be so selfless when your own face was looking a bit worse for wear. "That's sweet of you to do. How do you feel, kiddo?"

He kneels towards her, and she grins really big. "Better!"

"Alright, high five then." Peter high fives her, and she dashes off afterwards, most likely looking for the parent she came with.

"Why didn't you respond to my calls?" Peter asks you as soon as you turn back to him. "I thought... I thought the worst had happened-"

"Peter, please. Stop with the wounded ego." May calls him out, listening from the sidelines. "What's important is that she's safe and in one piece- that's more than enough to feel grateful about."

Peter looks down, ashamed. He knows May is right, and he has to swallow his pride for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Peter." You grasp his hand, and he looks back at you, jaw tight as he listens. "I didn't mean to not answer your calls- my phone got shattered. And I didn't know where to find you after I woke up- I was already being taken away by Sable guards to 'safety' and then I decided my best chance to find you was over here."

"Oh." Peter feels kind of dumb, but he also feels glad you think of FEAST as a spot to find him. "I should've kept you safe."

"Don't. Don't make yourself crazy with what you could've done." You plead with him, and he sighs but shakes his head. "My arm will heal with time. I guess I landed on it weirdly and broke it."

Peter winces. "Well, you can always ask me for help if it bothers you. I'm there for you."

He traces your lip, where the cut under is still a red-brown, harsh hue in comparison to the pink of your bottom lip, and May takes this as her cue to leave.

Peter snorts. "I wish you had my-"

"Super healing? Yeah, I wish that too." You laugh. "Were you lucky enough to not get hit, or did you just heal on the way here?"

Peter's reaching for a facial bandage and some rubbing alcohol. "The latter."

"Ugh, lucky bastard." You smile up at him, cringing only slightly as Peter rubs away the blood from your wound. "I'm just glad that means I don't have to worry too much about you."

"You still do." Peter remarks, placing the bandage on your face. "But that just means you love me."

And, being ever so thankful that you're safely back in his arms, Peter places a soft kiss on your forehead, and then a slightly-less-soft one on your mouth, hoping it doesn't hurt you, but happy that you kiss him back anyways.

517 notes · View notes

livwritesstuff · 11 days

Text

‘Tis officially prom season in the US and I’ve been thinking about how that would go for Steve and Eddie and their daughters.

Steve might have managed to use his chronic migraines to weasel his way out of trips to the mall for the girls’ entire lives, but he suddenly finds himself conveniently immune when the girls ask him to run point on their prom dress-shopping crusade.

In the end, the most difficult out of their three daughters was Moe by a mile. Over time, Steve had gathered that all the dressing up surrounding formal events was a rare source of insecurity for Moe. She managed to avoid her junior prom (even though Steve knew she wanted to go, and she’d moped around the house that entire night). When her senior prom rolled around, Eddie and Steve conspired with Moe’s best friend Gray to make sure that Moe actually went this time.

That was when Steve got roped into dress-shopping with Moe, which didn’t see a strong start to begin with and ended in a total meltdown on Moe’s part about how much she hates dresses.

“So don’t wear a dress!” Steve told her from outside the fitting room, “Moe – nothing about this is that serious. If you hate dresses, wear a suit. Wear your damn basketball uniform. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you go and you have fun or whatever. Gray really wants to go, and you and I both know that Gray isn’t gonna go if you don’t.”

Apparently, that was the right thing to say, and Moe ends up wearing something along the lines of this (the tie is Steve’s, the lapel pin on the pocket is one of Eddie’s).

Robbie surprised Steve by actually being excited about prom. She’s not usually into that kind of thing (especially when it’s school-sanctioned), but she’s got all of Eddie’s flair for dramatics so maybe it actually kind of makes sense. She went into dress-shopping with a vision (“I’m thinking Kate Winslet’s red dress in Titanic meets Bride of Frankenstein” which, frankly, Steve didn’t think was possible) but she’s Robbie, so she had enough blind determination to pull it off. It takes twenty-two grueling hours over the span of two weekends, but she pulls it off.

Imagine a combination of this and this and that’s what Robbie finds (she also says, “It’s kinda vintage, right?” which kills Steve a little bit because, sure, maybe it’s similar to Erica’s prom dress in ‘93 – but since the hell when were the nineties vintage?)

Out of the three, Hazel was the one who looked forward to prom the most, especially after watching her sisters get to go for years, and she’s also the “girliest” (objectively speaking) – she loves makeup and pretty things and dressing up nice, so she was over-the-moon when it was finally her turn.

Steve went into dress-shopping with Hazel prepared for a long and painful battle just like he’d done with the other two, but then Hazel ends up falling in love with one of the first dresses she tries on, and suddenly Steve is like, “Wait-wait-wait, that’s it??? It’s over”. He definitely doesn’t appreciate the wake-up call that his littlest girl is practically all grown up.

Hazel is also the only one who goes to both her junior prom and her senior prom. She wears something like this to her junior prom and this to her senior prom, and Steve is a total mess both times.

#eddie took offense to the girls wanting steve’s help and not his #moe: it’s not personal. pop just dresses way better than you #steve: You hear that ed. there’s now an official statement that i’ve got good taste.#robbie: she never said that. she said you dress better than dad but he sets the bar pretty low.#steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

152 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 2 months

Note

Thinking bout how mean demi Alastor would be regarding the post cheating/meltdown/breakup sex… he’s still a sadist and now that he’s more comfortable with physical intimacy and like 20% more deranged that def gets reflected in his “catering to your needs”. Overstim, edging, anything that leaves you at his “mercy”

Reader, visibly sweating because YOU know that HE knows most of the dirty dirty nasty NASTY SHENANIGANS you've committed in the last month or two of Just Straight Up Sluttery: so Alastor, now that you've discovered this new part of yourself, surely you've, uh, developed some new tastes and healthy outlets for intimacy?

Alastor, who's just spent the last several weeks rounding up all your sexual partners and he does mean ALL of them to torture every last detail of what you did out of them, and has recently discovered how much he likes the feeling of a riding crop in his hands, along with a list of kinks where cheating/cuckoldry is definitely NOT one of them: oh yes :) healthy outlets :) so anyways my pet, about your punishment--

You're just like "ok Alastor um, since you're new to this and old fashioned you probably want to, cuddle, and, ease into it, and--" bitch he wants to tie you up. Bitch he has developed SUCH a craving for watching you tied up and helpless because, oh you're so sweet and vulnerable and need him to protect you ❤️ his sweet vulnerable little doe ❤️ aw, your struggling is so cute ❤️ do you want to be let go? Guess you better beg nice and pretty~

I dunno man... I was LITERALLY discussing a concept like this with an asexual buddy of mine actually, the amount of aces horny for Alastor is giving, truly, and we were MUTUALLY like, "listen... listen... asexuality is real and we respect that, ok... but it's also a spectrum... and I want this man going his entire life and afterlife not caring or having a taste for those things UNTIL he meets you and he has to deal with, discover, and come to understand all his new desires" and I keep thinking of multiple ways to swing that?

Just him having his equivalent of his first schoolboy crush and not knowing why he can't stop himself from laughing at your jokes? Why is he suddenly so... POSSESSIVE of your company? Why does he want to hurt the men who come around you even more than usual? He goes to Rosie for advice and she's just, DROPPING HER TEA CUP, "oh ALASTOR HONEY, you've got yourself a little crush!!" and all but squealing with delight as she wants ALL the details and, well, Rosie IS a trusted friend... and once he starts talking about you, he can't stop himself for some reason, he just enjoys sharing little details and stories and things about you amd, oh gosh Rosie you should hear this thing that happened the other day it was just the most charming little--

I want this man coming to take you back and he's kicking some door down and he finds you THROATING A GUY. I want it AWKWARD. I want him finding you doing something that immediately makes everyone involved go OH SHIT. I want some dude freaking out hollering "THE RADIO DEMON?!" because he and a buddy were spitroasting you on your hands and knees and you give a very recognizable "alastor????" around the dude's meat CLEARLY KNOWING THE GUY and your unlucky one night stand has his Oh Fuck moment as he makes perfect eye contact with the notorious cannibal who is currently witnessing this, uh, gentleman having his hand fisted in your hair as he--

Just the mental image of, it's the end of the night or even the morning and the fucking sun is coming up or, their time equivalent of sunrise since I don't think they have like days and nights, but, Alastor is just sitting there reading a book humming to himself, completely put together not a hair out of place, with candles going, a gentle song on the radio, and beside him you're just facedown completely naked in bed with welts all over your ass as his shadow gives you a nice aftercare massage. Dude just sips some coffee, humming and smirking as he regards you "now did we learn our lesson about... making impulsive unsafe decisions without consulting our partner?"

you, still face down as your legs still refuse to stop shaking: that if I want to get fucked really hard all I have to do is commit adultery?

Alastor, who has recently discovered all the Super Fun New Ways he can fuck 'discipline' you for riling him up and getting him jealous on purpose because now that he's finally acting like this it's all but making you a cat in heat 'being a brat', smiling with legitimate sadistic glee as he reaches for a pair of leather gloves: incorrect :)

#yandere hellaverse #yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #yandere stuff #AND THEN VOX FINDS OUT AND HES SO FUCKING JEALOUS. 'OH SO YOU CAN FUCK T H E M BUT NOT ME' $*$&“#sinprompts #hh

184 notes · View notes

multific · 10 months

Text

Doctor’s Secrets

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: During a very difficult and convoluted case the team stumbles into a secret. Soon they will figure out just how smooth Spencer Reid can really be.

"The man we are looking for targets lonely married women. Women with husbands who have jobs which keep them from home. The unsub is in his early 40s and has a criminal record of violence." As Gideon kept on going to explain to the officers just who they are looking for, Reid had a sudden realization. "This is his way of punishing the husband and the wife at the same time. In his eyes, the husband is guilty of not taking care of her and she is a cheater, much like how his parents were when he was a child. He is violent and often angry. Road rage and public meltdowns are common for the unsub."

"I have to make a call." Reid told Hotch as he suddenly rushed out to make his call.

The team did notice that Reid was rather nervous the entire day, he kept fidgeting and he was uncharacteristically weird. Spencer kept on staring at his phone as if he was waiting for a text or a call.

But no one questioned it.

"You good, Kid?" well no one except for Morgan, of course.

"Yes, I am. I'm only worried a little."

"What this unsub got you scared?"

"I'm... kind of..."

This is when an officer walked over to the room where the team was, knocking on the door.

"Dr Reid, as you requested, your wife is here."

The entire team looked at Spencer.

"WIFE?!" called out Garcia through the phone before she ran to find them.

---

You were sitting at home, working when your phone rang.

"Hi Babe." you said as you started to drink your tea.

"Y/N, I sent a car to you, there is a serial killer out there, his profile... he is killing women like you, the police car will be there soon, please just go with them, they will bring you to me." he sounded extremely worried, and you knew what you needed to do.

"I will be fine, Spencer, they just arrived, I'm coming to you."

You heard him let out a long sigh and without another question, you gathered your purse and headed to the cop car.

When you arrived at the station you had no idea what to do.

Spencer always kept you very far from his job so you won't be affected like he once was.

You never minded him keeping you so far from his line of work it did help a lot for you to help him through the harder times.

Spencer and you have been married for the last three years and before that dating for years, his team didn't know about you because he chose not to mention you to any of them.

It was the reason why he always kept his wedding band at home, you weren't really a fan of him not wearing it but you understood.

But now, when he called you, he did make you worry a lot.

Talking about a serial killer who targeted women like you.

"Y/N," you heard your name being called and when you turned you saw Spencer, a smile find its way onto your lips.

"Hi." he went over to you and gave you a hug. "I'm all good." you said when you felt him tighten his grip around you.

"I'll introduce you, come on." he grabbed your hand and guided you into a room. The room was filled with files and photos on a board but for now, you tried to focus on the people as all of them introduced themselves one by one.

"Hi, my name is Penelope, very lovely to meet you."

"Hi, I'm Y/N Reid, nice to meet you as well."

"While we figure things out, Garcia please look after, Mrs Reid." said Hotch.

"OH! I will show you my magic room!" the kind woman chirped as you nodded, you understood they had a job to do.

Penelope was a very nice woman, her room, was filled with monitors and she kept on going over them.

"Can-Can I ask you something?" you asked as you rolled over to her in your chair.

"Of course,"

"Spencer said that the killer targets women like me. Can-Do you know what he meant?"

"From what I heard, the killer targets women with husbands who stay away for longer periods, this is his way of punishing the people who are like his parents were."

"I see, I was trying to think if I have seen or heard anything but-"

"This is not your fault, Spencer did well on protecting you as he should."

"I know but, there are women out there who don't have a husband with such knowledge, they are in danger. I cannot help but think that while I had the opportunity to run away and hide, many of them don't."

"Don't blame yourself, Sweetie. This is not your fault at all. And you being here helps Spencer concentrate so they can catch the killer faster."

"Thank you."

"Of course," she smiled as the phone rang, she picked up, it was on speaker.

"Talk to me, Hot Stuff."

"Garcia, can you check on a Dr Thomas Jones?"

"Works in New Jersey, family medicine doctor, no criminal record, divorced, his wife now lived in California... guess she ran as far as she could."

"Oh God." Garcia looked at you as you said that. "I know him."

"Y/N? What do you mean?" Derek said on the phone.

"He was my doctor, I used to go every other month for a check-up. He-He tried to hit on me many times but I told him I'm married. I always thought he was weird."

"Good, thanks, we can use that against him. Thanks, Garcia, Y/N."

Derek hung up the phone as you looked at Penelope.

"One time, I went because I had a fever, he was touching me but I thought I was only imagining it because I had a high fever. I didn't go to him after that."

"So, that's how he chooses his victims. He knows about your husband, he has all of your info."

"The sick bastard. I should have told Spencer."

"It's okay, Y/N. We will catch him now." you nodded as she began to type. You moved back to the table but you couldn't concentrate. You just hoped the horror would end.

You and Penelope went to get some coffee when Spencer barged into the kitchen.

"We got him." he smiled and you saw him letting out a long sigh. You smiled at him as you put your mug down, heading over and giving him a hug.

"I'm proud of you." you said as you pulled away, returning to your coffee.

"SO, as I was saying, the store had a sale but the bag I had my eyes on for months, just disappeared." Penelope groaned behind you as you turned to look at him, sitting down by the table, you turned to Spencer.

"I can wait for you, if you have paperwork."

"Okay, I'll try and be quick." he smiled and you nodded before you returned to the conversation with Penelope.

Spencer run to his desk as he sat down he noticed Derek looking at you from where he was sitting by his desk.

"You got lucky, Reid." Derek said. "But why keep it a secret?" Morgan now looked at Spencer.

"I thought we were friends, you could have told us." Emily now also sat down at her desk joining the conversation.

"It was a small wedding, only her parents and my mum, that's all I had time for. But she didn't mind, she said she understands that I'm busy. She often says she wouldn't have married me if she didn't know what it comes with." Hotch hearing that, really felt a pain in his chest, but everyone else could only smile at Spencer.

"Let's go out for a drink sometime, so we can get to know her like Garcia did." said Jason Gideon as he grabbed his bag and left for the weekend.

Spencer could only smile as he soon finished his report.

"Let's go home." you turned around at his voice.

"Let me grab my bag." you headed back to Garcia's room. "It was nice meeting with all of you." you said to everyone as you waved goodbye. Spencer's hand was on your waist as he guided you to the elevator.

"Garcia?" asked Hotch as everyone looked at him.

"She is perfect, so kind and smart." Hotch nodded before heading back to his office.

Everyone was more intrigued now, they all wanted to get to know you.

No one could believe that their boy-wonder was keeping such secrets.

As Spencer started to drive, you turned to him.

“I really like your team.”

“They like you too.” he smiled.

“Do you think I could get to know them better?”

“Of course, Gideon already wants to go out for drinks so he could talk with you.”

“Oh great, cannot wait to get profiled by him.”

“Well-”

“Shut it! I know you already did but I don’t want to know!”

“You got it, Darling.”

“Penelope is a sweetheart, she gave me so many names of stores to get clothes.”

“Please don’t start dressing like her. I like your style already.” you smiled at that.

“Thank you, Spencer. I know I should have told you about Dr Jones... but you are already so busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you, Love.” he grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it.

You soon arrived home, took a nice shower and hit the bed. You were always very worried that his team won’t like you, but now, after meeting them, you felt at ease.

You just couldn’t wait to meet them once again, after all, they are your husband’s second family.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #x female reader #x reader #reader insert #fluff

894 notes · View notes

redrose10 · 3 months

Text

Here is Chapter 16! It’s a bit shorter. There is either going to be one or two more chapters to this story. It just depends on if I want to split up the next part into two or just do it as one big chapter. We’ll see. Thank you all of all the engagement and sticking with me this whole time!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 1,368

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

Woo-Sung dropped you back off at Jimins and once inside you were quickly surrounded by three men praising you and thanking you for your quick thinking to get a confession out of Suri. After Yoongi shooed the other two away he wrapped you in hug and led you over to the table.

“So what do we do now?”, you asked while accepting a drink from Yoongi.

Jin cleared his throat, “Well since things didn’t work out exactly like we planned I think we should just go to Suri tomorrow. Let’s not wait it out any more. She knows something is up and the longer we wait the more time it gives her to try and plan something else. We tell her we have the recording and all of the proof that Yoongi is not the father. We’ll give her the chance to just walk away peacefully, but I’m sure she’ll have a tantrum so we have to be prepared for that and anything else she might throw our way.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Jin continued, “I say Y/N and I will meet up with Yoongi at his place tomorrow morning. We’ll present everything to Suri and go from there.”

After Jin said his goodbyes and Jimin went off to bed you were finally able to get some alone time with Yoongi before he left to go back home.

“You did great today Y/N. Seriously I might just have to hire you. You’d be a great assest to the company.”

“I was so nervous, but I could just tell that things weren’t going anywhere so I knew I had to step in. I’m glad we got what we needed. I just hope everything goes smoothly tomorrow.”

“It will. I know it. And if it doesn’t then fuck it.”

You rested your head on his chest suddenly feeling very tired and overwhelmed.

You could hear his phone getting notification after notification and you both knew exactly who they were from.

He sighed, “I guess I better get going before she has a full blown meltdown.”

“I can’t wait for all of this to be over and we can just move on and live a normal life.”

“Me too. We’re so close and then I can focus on making it up to you. I still owe you quite a bit.”, he smirked.

His lips started at your lips before slowly moving down your neck to your chest. His hands started on your thighs and slowly made their way up. Just as his hands reached the the strap of your bra his phone began ringing again.

He groaned into your shoulder, “Let me answer this. Maybe I can get her to be quiet and go away for a few more hours.”

You smiled watching as he walked over to grab his phone. When he finally returned he had a bit of a pep to his step. As soon as he reached you his lips once again met yours as his hands grabbed your hips pulling you towards the bedroom.

“Wha-what about Suri?”, you asked in between kisses.

“She said she’s going to stay with a friend tonight so she won’t be home so we’re all good.”, he smiled.

You felt a sudden rush of relief knowing that you and Yoongi could spend the night together in peace.

Before you knew it the back of your knees hit the bed and you fell backwards with Yoongi following right behind. With one swift motion your shirt was removed and his not long after. He had your jeans off before you could even blink. Instinctually you reached for his belt buckle, but he grabbed your hands and gently pushed them onto the bed pinning you down.

“This is going to be all about you.”, he said before removing the rest of the thin fabric from your body leaving you completely nude beneath him.

As much as you wanted to protest he didn’t give you the chance as you were quickly hit with a wash of pleasure from the way he touched you.

After what seemed like hours and when you just couldn’t take any more you both shared a shower before getting in bed and quickly falling asleep. You were still surprised at how comforting it felt to have his arms wrapped around you when a year ago it would’ve made your skin crawl.

The next morning you were woken when a swift rush of cold air hit your very warm body. Realizing the cause being that the blanket you were using had been ripped off of the bed and culprit was none other than your best friend Jimin.

Before you could react Yoongi spoke first, “What the fuck Park? Just because you’re our best friend doesn’t mean I won’t fire you.”

Jimin chuckled, “Well after having to spend the night listening to what sounded like a porn being filmed in my own home I just might quit anyways so go ahead and fire me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unhear the things I heard last night.” You covered your face in embarrassment while Yoongi laughed next to you.

“What do you need Jimin?”, you asked trying to get out of this situation.

“One of you should probably answer your phone. Jin has been calling for the last hour. He said it’s urgent so call him back.”

You watched as he walked out of the door letting it slam behind him.

“Fuck.”, you heard Yoongi whisper next to you after he grabbed his phone.

He clicked a few buttons before putting the phone on speaker.

“Well well well look who finally decided to call me back. I’ve only called you like twenty five times.”, Jin answered.

“Sorry we just woke up.”, you responded wanting to make sure he knew you were also there.

“Yoongi did you spend the night there?”

“Yeah I did. Suri said she was going to sleep at a friends house so I decided to take the opportunity to stay here.”

Jin chuckled, “Yeah that probably wasn’t a great idea. You should get over here to your place ASAP. You are not going to believe who Suri’s friend is.”

“Wait what’s go-?”, Yoongi went to ask but Jin hung up before he could finish. He looked over at you and chuckled, “Well I guess we better get dressed.” You nodded and you both worked quickly to get dressed and out to the car as soon as possible.

“Who do you think it is?”, you asked on the drive there.

“Who knows at this point.”, he shrugged.

He opened the door to the familiar penthouse and you followed him. Yoongi stopped walking so suddenly you didn’t have time to stop and walked directly into him. Peaking around his shoulder you saw Jin and Suri sitting at the table as you expected, but next to Suri was a woman you’d never seen before. She was one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Her hair dyed blond, but it fit her thanks to her tanned skin. It was obvious that she spent a lot of time in the gym as you noticed her perfect proportions thanks to her perfectly fitting designer clothes. Looking down at your leggings and old college sweatshirt combined with your no makeup look and hair thrown in a messy bun you suddenly felt very insecure.

You looked up at Yoongi noticing he hadn’t moved or spoke since walking him the room. He had turned a pale gray color. His eyes focused on the mysterious woman sitting next to a smirking Suri. Jin chewed on his bottom lip not making eye contact with anyone. It seemed like you were the only person who didn’t know this woman.

“Aren’t you going to say hello Yoongi? You don’t want to be rude.”, Suri spoke teasingly.

You watched as Yoongi’s mouth moved up and down, but no sounds came out.

So instead Suri turned her attention to you,

“Oh Hi Y/N, I didn’t even see you there. Must be how you just blend into everything wherever you go.”

You ignored her subtle jab so she continued,

“Let me introduce you two. Mia, this is Y/N, Yoongi’s thing. Y/N, this is Mia, Yoongi’s EX.”

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #cinnamon&vanilla #min yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi au #bts yoongi #kim seokjin #jimin #bts fic

162 notes · View notes

nomnomnoona · 6 months

Text

ATEEZ IN LOVE - Jongho

Brace yourself, because Jongho's not going to be an easy one to crack. Because if you don't know him, you might not ever know he's in love with you.

We may even go so far as to say HE might not even know he’s in love with you until everything hits him like a truck, all at once.

Don't get it wrong, Jongho is a sweetheart. He's so easy to love, but he's a challenge to read.

To be honest, this whole thing is going to be a race between you and him. Who’s going to find out he’s in love with you first? You or him? Yup, read that again. I said what I said.

He might not even know he’s in love, but luckily you’re a lot more aware of him than he is of himself.

He’s a very aware and observant guy. But it’s normally only ever utilized when he’s watching other people or preparing for a performance. His quietness allows him to be observant.

But for some God-forsaken reason, he can’t apply any of that to being in love.

It’s not that he never felt it, but Jongho is never caught unaware. So when he began to realize he was looking for your smell on his jacket, or falling into a nasty mood because you weren’t around, he couldn’t quite articulate what kind of feeling was bubbling.

At first, he thought he was mad at you for becoming distant or changing, when really, it was him. He was seeing you differently.

And he didn’t like it.

Why were you glowing?

Why did he have the sudden urge to reach out and touch your cheeks?

Why couldn’t he stop staring at your lips?

And since when did you banshee singing voice sound like music to his ears? HIS ears? A national treasure. A UNESCO heritage site—Jongho’s precious ears, the aide to his angelic voice—his ears craved the sound of you squawking to a trot song.

Jongho in love is a lot to unpack.

Jongho is rarely ever confused. If anything, of all his hyungs, his intellectual compass conks out the least.

You see, while others brighten up, get erratic, or sadden when they're in love, Jongho somehow falls into bomb detonator mode.

You know how the bomb squad is so focused when trying to deactivate a bomb? Yeah, he gets like that.

It's like his insides are freaking out.

Suddenly he forgot how to talk to you. He can't make eye contact. He’s unable to function. How the hell are you even doing this to him?

The man retreats into a very silent meltdown. One where he just goes over and over the way the corner of your eyes wrinkle when you laugh or the way he imagines what kissing you would be like.

No one actually teaches anyone what love is. There’s no lesson about how to identify if you’re in love. It’s just one of those things you’re just supposed to learn in life as you live it.

That shit infuriated Jongho because he hates not understanding the reason behind something.

He then finds himself suspiciously prepared for first-degree murder whenever his hyungs bring up his unprocessed feelings for you or the chemistry you two have.

That one time Mingi pulled Jongho aside to check if he knew how to use a condom, gave Mingi one of the most prominent shin bruises he’a ever had.

Let the man figure it out on his own, guys.

Isn't love supposed to be blissful?

Why can't Jongho sleep?

Why doesn’t his pillow smell like you?

Where even were you if you wouldn’t be next to him or him you?

He may have resisted this for a good amount of time, but the moment it dawns on him that he's in love with you, things start to fall into place.

His gentleness takes over.

Jongho suddenly wants to do everything to protect you, express his loyalty, and make you smile. To him, loving you was always something he could do so easily. The challenge was realizing he loved you and was sexually attracted to you at the same time.

Jongho always knew you were someone he could never live without. It was only when he realized his love for you that he saw life beyond him being a constant friend. He now saw life where you were all he needed. He wanted you to see him as your forever person.

When you finally agreed to date him, you expected things would start slow. Instead, you walked right into the perfect date where you two did everything you wanted.

Jongho never forgets. He never forgets those times you pointed at things you liked or wanted to do. He realized how deeply he knew you all these years.

He never missed out on anything about you.

Though it seems as though he had just fallen in love with you, the truth is actually that he had loved you so much he was already in a place where loving you was his first instinct.

It just so happened that it took him this long to realize that he wanted you to be the only one he loved this way.

You were the only one he could see.

And though it took a while, he soon realized you were all he wanted to see.

#ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez jongho #choi jongho #atz drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez fic

199 notes · View notes

shxtodxroki · 1 year

Text

𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍

Summary: Shoto has a meltdown after having a nightmare of you leaving him, telling him that you no longer loved him and felt suffocated in your relationship. Luckily you’re right beside him when he wakes up from the awful dream, there to hold and reassure him that you love him more than he could ever know.

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending), insecurities, Shoto has a meltdown

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Almond - Roommate AU

Sweet Pea - “Character has a nightmare about reader leaving them, reader comforts them”

- Shoto hastily pushed the door to his home open without much thought, shoulders drooping from exhaustion as he immediately dropped his bags at the door

- It had been a particularly long day of hero work, and he felt as if he was running on empty in that moment, craving a warm embrace from you that he could melt into as he finally allowed himself to rest

- After he had closed the door behind him and moved to take off his shoes, however, he noticed how eerily quiet the apartment was, seemingly lacking your presence entirely

- You would almost ALWAYS greet him at the door of your shared apartment once he arrived home, placing a heartfelt kiss on his cheek as you wrapped your arms around his waist, but he tried not to dwell on these details as he assumed you had simply fallen asleep early this evening or were otherwise preoccupied at the moment

- As Shoto made his way to the kitchen, though, quickly pouring himself a glass of juice and re-heating some leftover noodles from the dinner you had shared together the evening prior, he felt a sense of bitter dread growing in his stomach that was difficult to ignore. It started off barely noticeable, just a small gnawing inside of him, but it left him feeling uneasy and quickly began to grow as he attempted to push the anxiety out of his mind and enjoy his meal

- Shoto was unable to shake the unease he felt at the fact that you had yet to come see or acknowledge him at all, however, and he quickly found himself unable to think about anything else as he set his glass down and quickly sped over to the bedroom door

- He tried to convince himself that he was being ridiculous, that nothing was wrong and you were most likely just in the shower or something like that where you couldn’t rush out to him right that moment

- But you had ALWAYS kept the routine of greeting him at the door when he came home. You had never missed it, not ONCE throughout your entire time living together, so it was difficult to convince himself that this was something simple and innocent

- When Shoto pushed open your shared bedroom door to see an empty bed, he only felt his worry grow as his eyes shifted around looking for you

- Instead, however, as his eyes glances hastily around the room he was met with a sight that caused a pit to form in his stomach, eyes welling up with tears faster than he could control as the realization of what was happening began to hit him

- The majority of your belongings had been removed from the room, nearly all traces of you in the house suddenly bare despite having been there just this morning when he had left for work. All of your trinkets on the nightstand, the posters you had begged him to help you hang up on the walls, the clothes hanging on your now opened side of the closet, all gone without a trace

- It was as if Shoto’s lungs were collapsing, eyes filling so heavily with tears that he could only make out mere blobs and shapes in front of him as he noticed a sleet white sheet of paper resting atop your bed

- He didn’t want to read it, every cell in his heart was begging him to spare the heartbreak he already knew he would find in the letter, but his anxiety overpowered all else he was feeling

- He had to know for sure, had to know that what he thought was happening was TRULY happening as he felt his world crashing down around him, causing him to reach out and begin scanning the paper through his tear-filled eyes

- “Shoto,

I’m sorry to have to do this to you, I really am. I wish I could give you a proper goodbye at least, to tell you this in person, but I’m a coward. I’m far too much of a coward to own up to the consequences of my actions and the heartbreak I know you’ll feel in person, so I hope this letter suffices, at least in some way.

Even though I know it won’t.

Honestly, I don’t think I can say I’m in love with you anymore. I don’t think I have been for quite a while now, in fact. I care about you, quite a lot, which was why I avoided this for so long. But I feel so suffocated, stuck in a relationship I don’t want to be in, living together every day and not being able to say anything. So I had to leave, and I had to do it fast before I could talk myself out of it.

Please don’t try to find me. I no longer love you, and I’m completely done with this relationship. I'm washing my hands of it, and nothing can change my mind, I’m just sorry I had to do this in such a cowardly way. You don’t deserve this, but i just can’t pretend to be happy like this any more when I know I’m not.

-Y/n”

- Loud, guttural sobs echoed through the room, the sound bouncing off the walls and into Shoto’s ears as he collapsed on the floor in pure agony. Your note was covered in tear stains at this point, his hand shaking violently as he clutched it and sobbed into his knees

- Shoto felt like he was burning, all of his emotions were overwhelming his senses and he could feel his vision going black around him. His chest hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt, and as the reality of you breaking up with him fully set in, Shoto felt as if he was falling, sinking deep into a black abyss where he could feel nothing but pain all throughout his body…

- Sweat covered Shoto’s body as he shot awake in his bed, eyes opening wide in a frenzy as he breathed rapidly. He could feel tears staining his cheeks, still falling at rapid speed over the pain he felt as he began to panic once more, before you gently reached your hand over to hold his own

- Shoto’s eyes immediately shot over to yours, stunned to see you laying beside him, eyes still groggy and heavy from sleep as you looked at him with a confused expression and held his hand carefully in yours

- “Sho, what’s going on? What happened?” You asked, concern immediately covering your features as you noticed the tear tracks along his cheeks and the visible signs that a meltdown was near for Shoto

- As your boyfriend looked at you, still glancing at him with all the love and concern in your heart and gently rubbed shapes along the back of his hand in a gentle attempt to soothe him, Shoto realized that you breaking up with him had just been a nightmare. A horrible, devastating nightmare

- Shoto couldn’t possibly be more thankful than he was in that moment

- The sobs almost immediately returned at the realization, though, the memory of the dream and the pain it caused him still so vivid in his mind. He knew it wasn’t real, but the insecurity it was founded from was so hard to shake, even as Shoto pulled himself into your very real, very loving arms right beside him

- Shoto was burning up, losing control over his typically well-regulated temperature even on his cool side due to his panic, and you could see that it wasn’t time to ask questions in that moment

- You could resolve the issue he was dealing with later, but right now, you just needed to be there to comfort and console him, to help Shoto come down from the ledge of fear he was stuck on in his mind

- This wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar situation to you. Though your boyfriend typically tried his best to quell his internal fears and worries, he still found them slipping through on occasion, so you luckily knew exactly how to comfort him in moments like these

- You swiftly pulled the man into you, allowing his tears to stain your shirt and his sniffles and sobs to ring throughout the bedroom as you used one hand to gently run your fingers through his soft hair and the other to rub his back soothingly

- You knew you needed to get him some water to cool him down before he got too hot and gave himself a fever, but with how panicked he clearly was in that moment, you figured you could wait just a few minutes before tending to that need. You kept it at the front of your mind, knowing that you needed to get him physically taken care of as soon as you were able, but you knew Shoto couldn’t handle you leaving him right now, so you tabled that matter for the moment

- And so you simply sat there, cradling your boyfriend in your arms and attempting to soothe him however you could as you let him cry until his sobs were reduced to small sniffles and he finally felt ready to talk, not wanting to rush him whatsoever

- “I… I had an awful dream.” Shoto started when his heart had finally eased enough for him to speak, the comfort of your arms around him reminding him that what he had seen was nothing but a dream, a subconscious manifestation of his unfounded insecurities

- "You left me. You left while I was out at work, didn’t even say goodbye. You just wrote a note, telling me that you didn’t love me any more and couldn’t live in a relationship where you felt suffocated.” The tears came back to Shoto’s eyes as he rememebred the harsh, piercing words of the imaginary note, nuzzling his face into your chest in order to prevent himself from falling back into a panic

- “Oh, baby.” You responded, cradling your boyfriend’s head tightly in your head as you immediately jumped to soothe his insecurities. “I would never do that to you, you hear me? I love you so much Shoto, I always will and I couldn’t be happier than I am with you. I hope you know that”

- “I do, angel.” He replied, the last embers of anxiety leaving his body as he was finally rid of the terrible nightmare and its effects on him.

- You were here you were happy, and you loved him. He knew that, he truly did, despite his worries and insecurities sometimes trying to contest that truth.

- “I know that you worry sometimes, Sho. But please know you’re more than enough for me. You’re all I could ever ask for in a boyfriend, and I’d never do to you what that imaginary, awful version of me did in that dream.” You reminded him in a halfhearted attempt to lighten the mood, eyes brightening when you saw the softest, smallest of smiles cross your boyfriend’s face.

- Seeing that Shoto was no longer in a frenzy, you found the time to slip out of his hold just enough to reach for the glass of ice water you kept on your bedside table, immediately returning to his hold and pressing the glass to his lips to cool him down once you managed to reach it

- “You’re more than I could ever ask for angel, I’m so happy to have you.” Shoto responded, feeling exhaustion seep back into his body as he finally released the energy he had been holding in over the dream and realized just how late it was

- The yawn your boyfriend quietly let out as he continued to cuddle with you on the floor made you realize that it was probably time for the two of you to be getting back to bed, now that Shoto was content and relaxed once more

- “Come on baby, let’s get you back to sleep.” You muttered, standing up before reaching out your hand to help Shoto up as well. “And this time, only dream of good things, okay?”

- “I hope I will, love.” Shoto replied, making his way back to his side of the bed and immediately cuddling up to your side as you turned off your bedside lamp. Holding you always helped ease him into sleep, content knowing you were safe in his arms even in your most vulnerable state

- “Goodnight, Sho. Sweet dreams.” You whispered into the darkness of the room, closing your eyes and pulling him tightly into you as Shoto pressed a light kiss to your cheek in response before quickly drifting back off into dreamland, nightmares long gone from his mind this time as he slept peacefully beside you

A/N: I haven’t written for this event in so long oh my god, I never finished all the requests so hopefully I’ll get through them soon! When I looked on this doc today and remembered the prompt, though, I knew I HAD to finish it, I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you guys enjoy it too! This event is currently closed lol since it’s from quite a while ago, but I’ll probably be doing more like it soon so be sure to be on the lookout for that! My requests ARE open right now, though, and I’m currently working on making a request list, so if you have a request feel free to send it in to me! :)

Taglist: @rebloglikeyouneedtoo @pasteldaze @yeagerfushiguro @papijean @deadmans-toe @trashy-bowtie @palenightmarepersona @thekaylahub @applepie-macaroon @lady-juliette @ghostofscarley @swiftbyul @shinsosmatcha

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

1K notes · View notes

spacebarbarianweird · 1 month

Text

When Old Scars Hurt

Synopsis: It's been two years and relationships between Astarion and Tiriel are being rocky.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Tags: fluff, conversation about relationships.

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

His back hurts and burns. Astarion is so sure his scars are open, he lets out a muffled cry.

No, it can't be. It's not real.

Scars can't bleed.

But why does it hurt so much?

Astarion sits on the floor and presses his knees against his chest trying to calm himself down. But no mental exercises help him.

The pain is only getting worse.

There is a disgusting autumn outside. The winds howl promising misery and despair and, to the less fortunate, death in the cold winter. It’s dark, but he doesn’t want to go out.

Astarion needs to feel warm hands on his back.

He gets up and enters the room they’ve rented with Tiriel. She is fast asleep in her bed, face pressed against the pillow. Astarion can see the upper half of her back and he can count all her freckles in the pitch-black room.

His beloved.

His partner.

His love.

His friend.

His Tiriel.

He shouldn't wake her up. Half-elves don't inherit the sleepless nature of their elven ancestors and have to spend a third of their lives in slumber.

So Astarion just sits there listening to her heartbeat and breathing. For two years, it has been his favorite sound. Just a quiet thump-thump-thump which has become the synonym of comfort and safety to him.

She offers him warmth. She offers him blood. She offers him herself.

Astarion shivers.

And he hurts her in return.

A quarrel. Those nasty words Astarion wishes he never said. Pain in Tiriel's eyes as if he had punched her. Silence. She left for the room they'd rented and fell asleep, tired and exhausted. And he stayed outside with his own thoughts and anger.

Idiot, she will abandon you. She will leave you all alone because she has her mortality and you don't.

Some parts of him wanted to apologize, to crawl back, to beg for forgiveness. Old habits refused to die out.

So he didn't. He let her go away to sleep while he stayed with his bitterness.

What if Tiriel doesn't want him anymore? What if she wakes up, looks straight into his eyes, and says "It's over, I can't keep up with your meltdowns anymore. I don't have your immortality and can't spend my years on you. Goodbye."

He can picture her stern face. The coldness in her eyes.

Astarion shakes his head. The rational part of him is sure Tiriel won't break up with him over his occasional rudeness. She knows him. She knows that sometimes it's stronger than him.

Suddenly, he realizes she isn't asleep anymore.

Tiriel moves a bit, inviting him to join her. His undead heart would skip a bit if he were alive.

He gets under the blanket and the warmth preserved by the thick layer of fabric makes him feel like a kitten cradled in its mother's arms.

"Tiriel, can I ask you something?" he whispers.

Tiriel sighs.

"Yes, I still love you. No, I don’t want to break up with you. Yes, you made the right choice not to ascend. No, I am not angry with you. It was rude but you weren’t in the mood for touching – I should have realized it."

The grip of darkness lets him go. He is still sorry for yelling at her – she just touched his bite mark at the wrong moment – but the guilt is slowly fading away.

"Thank you."

She smiles and places her hands over his scars and the pain lets his body go.

"Was it a nightmare?" Tiriel asks.

"No... Just a hallucination."

"It's all right, it's in the past." Her fingertips draw invisible pictures on his shoulders.

"Two hundred years," he mutters. "Two fucking hundred years. No one has any idea how long it truly is."

Tiriel doesn't say anything. At first, when they just got together, Asatrion tried to busy himself in these moments, he always tried to talk to make sure the silence didn't deafen him, but the more years passed, the more he learned to enjoy the silence.

Silence isn't dangerous.

Silence isn't scary.

It doesn't automatically bring horrors.

“Tiriel?”

“Hm?”

“You really aren't angry, are you? Tell me the truth.”

Tiriel elbows up a bit and forces him to lie on her right side.

“Astarion. Love. You hurt me. It was a mean to say. I know why you act like that sometimes. That’s all. I didn’t expect you to be that angry when I touched your neck, that’s true.”

“I am sorry.”

She caresses his jawline forcing him to close his eyes like a content cat.

“Do you think you will want to stay with me, Tiriel? Year later, ten years later. Let's be honest, you aren’t immortal like me. What if I am a waste of time?”

“You aren't.”

“You don't know that. Tiriel, I am much older than you and, although my life has been all fear and misery, it doesn't mean I didn't live it. You are thirty-eight. You have a century and a half of life ahead. You were raised by humans, and you think that you have all eternity. You don't.”

Tiriel sits up. “So what? Do you want me to leave you?”

“Tiriel, I want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy.”

“And I am! Astarion I was on my own my whole life and no one cared for me! No one loved me! You were the first one! You don't believe in gods and destiny but I do believe we were made for each other. Stop. I am happy with you. And I can tolerate the downsides that come along.

“I will make you miserable. My hands are cold, I can’t warm you unless I drink a profane amount of blood. I draw your blood, making you weak and dizzy.”

She lies back and tugs him as close as she can, intertwining her body with his. Astarion suddenly realizes that she is almost as strong as him and, should he want to break the embrace, he will have to make an effort.

“What if you want a child? A family? I can’t give you that.”

Tiriel looks up at him. “Honestly, Astarion, you claim to know mortals so well but fail to understand that being pregnant with an unwanted child from an unloved man is the ultimate nightmare for a woman. If I ever want to get pregnant, I want it to be yours.”

Astarion grabs her arms if she is about to disappear.

“That's it. We aren't going anywhere from each other. I don't want anyone else. You probably don’t either. You are my Astarion. My friend, my heart, and my husband. I don’t need and want anyone else. No matter how warm their hands are.”

Astarion looks into her eyes. She means it, he realizes. She truly, honestly means it. Even now, two years later, when their relationship is rocky.

And she considers him her husband.

He kisses her forehead.

“I love you, my wife.”

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong

86 notes · View notes