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ohtobeleah · 4 months

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Ten: [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?]

Summary: Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion

Word Count: 4.2K

Author Note: It's no secret I've been having a little bit of a rough go on this hell-site as of late. But I'm still here, working on this series. Seeing your weblogs, comments and concepts truly mean the world to me. so please, don't be hesitant to share.

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“My only real advice for this kind of thing is this.” Jensen sighed as he stood on the steps of his townhouse with you. Coffee in one hand, end of life brochure in the other. Things had taken a rather drastic turn for him in the last few days. After your birthday, his health started to drastically diminish–so much so that his doctors weren’t too sure how much time there was left to combat the cancerous cells spreading through his body. “Go right through it.” Jensen smiled, never once did you ever see his positivity falter. “Like right through it, feel it all, be in it, don't avoid it because the moment you start avoiding it is when it's truly won.”

Little Sammy held your hand as you stood next to Jensen–he was too young to understand that the man talking to you was dying, hell, you weren't even sure if you understood the significance of the pamphlet Jensen had picked up after your first CCA meeting. He’d told you it was for a friend, little did you know that friend was standing right in front of you.

The Cancer Counseling Association held biweekly meetings at the hospital. You hadn’t planned on attending when your oncologist, Doctor Morrison, had first mentioned it. But when Jensen said he’d been going almost religiously for three years? You thought, what's the harm?

The harm was it was depressing as fuck.

“You go completely in the tough times, feel everything and get out the other end of it all.” You’d asked Jensen something along the lines of how he’d managed to keep fighting all this time and still be so positive about life and all its underwhelming rewards. He was for the most part, a happy guy despite it all. But even the strongest of soldiers have an achilles heel.

Jensens just so happened to be the fact you were forbidden fruit, he wasn't about to tread on another man's toes. Especially when he was tiptoeing towards the sweet release of death's gentle hands. None of that stopped his heart from racing whenever you smiled though.

“Many of these things you don't have a choice in.” Jensen continued as his eyes lingered down to little two year old Sammy who stood holding your hand in his. If anything you needed the encouragement to fight this battle for your children. “You know, fuck, whats that expression?” Jensen mulled it over as you chuckled, still standing on the path right outside his street facing townhouse. “Uhh–oh yeah! It's not how well you walked through the fire, but how you walked through it regardless.”

“I think I'm just barely crawling through the flames right now–” You answered honestly. There wasn't a nice way to say he’d looked better than he did right now, with sunken eyes and skin that looked as if all the life had been drained from his soul.

So you never mentioned it.

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“So—“ The library wasn’t Jake Seresins favourite place to go, but there was someone who made the isles of hard covered literature easier to understand that always seemed to draw him in. Like a moth to a flame. “Did you have a good Christmas?” The silence that followed as you stared across the desk where you were processing returned textbooks had Jake's heart racing, he couldn’t read you and that fact made him all the more nervous. “Or not? If you’re Jewish maybe? Don’t celebrate Christmas that’s cool too I just thought—“ You had to giggle at the college football star standing across from the reception desk with his elbows leaning on the ledge. Your smile was pure happiness, it wasn’t hard to make Jake's heart melt inside his chest—a chest he once thought was hollow.

“I had a wonderful Christmas, I went home to visit my mum, she always says that if the Christians can steal Christmas from the pagans then us non-religious folk can celebrate too.” You shrugged your shoulders politely as you kept checking off the returned textbooks from students who’d taken them home over the summer.

“What do you mean when you say the Christians stole Christmas?” Jake Seresin grew up in an incredibly conservative, extremely religious household that attended church every Sunday rain hail or shine. Jake swore his mother nearly spontaneously combusted when he had to stay in hospital overnight after having his appendix removed. It was a Saturday afternoon when they’d presented to the emergency room—poor old Janeen nearly dropped dead at the mere thought of her ten year old missing church the next morning.

“Lord have mercy upon us, for we have sinned.” Jake could still remember his mother crying vividly when he woke after surgery. Even at ten he knew his mother was somewhat of an overly sensitive soul.

“Well technically, in order to convert the Germanic pagans who, like, celebrated the winter solstice and stuff—the Christians were like, fuck it, let’s just say that Jesus was born on this day and you can hang tinsel and stuff.” Again, you shrugged your shoulders like it was common knowledge, but as Jake stared down at you with confusion swirling in his emerald eyes, you thought for a split second that maybe this was actually news to the college athlete who’d been following you around for the better half of nine months. Respectfully.

“You can’t just change someone’s birthday like that? Can you?” Jake, in all his years of attending Sunday services, Sunday Schools, being forced to read the bible and knowing far too much about parting seas and burning bushes, he’d never once been told that Christmas was just a day.

“It’s kinda like how King James was rewriting the bible on one side of the castle and had witches trying to turn his pee into gold on the other.” Jake was speechless as you looked up at him from your chair, your eyes seemingly swirling with knowledge beyond your years. It made sense that you worked in the library on campus.

“How the hell do you know all this?” Jake asked through a sheepish smile he couldn’t hide, your intelligence intimated him in the best of ways. You made him want to do better, be better, strive for more in life. It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t smart, he was. But next to you? It was an unparalleled excellence.

“I uh—I tend to read a lot.” Jake caught the way you faded into yourself, never one to want to outshine others. “Just get lost in here sometimes, books are sometimes easier to understand than people.” Jake could sympathise with that sentiment, he knew what it was like to feel like everyone was watching, judging a book by its cover so to speak. Everyone knew him as the meathead footballer who’s weekends were spent racking up the body count.

But with you? Jake just felt like Jake. Because that’s who he was to you. Simply and forever Jake.

“Do you like, not believe in God or something Miss Y/l/n?” Jake asked cautiously. He didn’t want to offend you or come across as rude or anything—he was simply asking a question he thought he may need to know if he was ever going to introduce you to his mother.

“I find it hard to believe in a world full of stories about Gods and Goddesses from a plethora of different perspectives that there can only be one, if one exists they all have to right? Harmoniously and complacent with the way the universe has fallen to shit without their divine intervention.” Jake had to take a moment to take what you had just said in. He was almost rendered speechless, but not quite. Not Jake Seresin.

“Damn Honeybee, you’re fucking fearless aren’t you?“ Jake couldn’t help but to smirk as he tried to keep his voice down. “You’re just raw doggin’ life with no religious affiliations.” It was then your turn to laugh.

“Guess I am. What about you? Do you believe in a God? An all mighty man, or woman, that sits in the clouds and judges your every action?” You asked with a teasing smirk as Jake bit his bottom lip, mulling over your question:

Did he believe in God?

“My mother would probably prefer if I said yes, but, the more I look at life without the rose coloured glasses I tend to think perhaps the big guy in the sky is all just some story.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Did you know hair holds memories.” The sound of buzzing clippers echoed off the walls of the bathroom as you sat before the mirror. Jake stood behind you with those big emerald eyes you loved so dearly, looking at you with a sympathetic look of understanding and support. “In some cultures people don't even cut their hair because it would upset the gods.” Jake could see the tears in your eyes as you looked at him through the mirror, understandably rambling to somewhat buy yourself some more time. “Medusa's hair was alive, there's certain styles linked to different cultures and full hair cutting ceremonies in–” If Jake didn't interrupt now you would have gone on forever. You had a habit of information dropping in situations where nervousness got the better of you. Not that Jake ever minded, he just knew if he didn't get ahead of it, you wouldn't stop. That would ultimately lead to you sitting in silence when the information swirling around inside her head had all been said. Panic would begin to rise inside your chest, the air would soon get thin, the room would suddenly get a little hotter and before you could even realise you'd be in the midst of a full blown panic attack.

The last time Jake witnessed such a thing was when Sam had colic.

“Honey–” Jake cooed as he turned off the clippers he held in his hand, only to place them down on the countertop to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Noone is forcing you to do this, if you don’t wanna cut your hair we don't have to.”

“No–” You sighed. “No, I want to do this, it's just a lot.” You tried to explain. “It's probably one of the only things I still have control over.” Jake understood, it would be hard not to. After all, he wasn't heartless. If he could Jake would have taken this all away, he would have given anything, including his own life to take your pain away. “I just hope I don't have a weird shaped head.”

“I'm sure you have a really nice scalp dear.” Jake chuckled as he massaged your shoulder tenderly. “And look, if you want my professional opinion, I think you’ll make an awesome live action Mrs. Potato Head.”

“Jacob!” You tried to hide your smile as you felt your cheek heating with a hume so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You’re cruel!”

“But I made you laugh.” Jake countered through a shit eating grin, that signature Seresin smile you loved so much. The very one all three of your children had inherited from their father. “That's all that matters, now–let me work my magic alright, I've got you.”

“You’re probably a worse hairdresser than you were a husband–” It was a low ball, but Jake took it like a champ as he reached out for the clippers. The buzzing was almost immediate as he used the pad of his thumbs to complete the electrical circuit. With the tool now in full gear, Jake chuckled as he looked at you with fake shock and horror casted across his face.

“Oh now who's being cruel huh?” Jake watched as your eyes followed his hand that held the clippers. “Technically we’re still married Honey, you still have my last name.” He mumbled under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear, seemingly trying to keep your attention on what he was saying rather than the clippers approaching your head.

But–you moved:

“Should we cut my hair with scissors first?”

“Y/n–” Jake sighed as he once again turned off the clippers and placed them back down on the side of the sink.

“No no no I'm not trying to stall, I just don't want you to accidentally scalp me when my hair gets caught up in the shaver.” Jake saw your point, for the hair you did have left it was pretty thick and full of life still. He held the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Not in frustration towards you, but in defiance of his new quest.

“I'll go ask the nurses station for some scissors.”

“Thankyou–” Was all you managed to say back before Jake stepped out of the bathroom attached to your hospital room. The Christmas lights still flickered in the dimly lit room, seemingly consuming the entire room in bright blues, greens, reds and yellows. Even in sickness you couldn't help but to lean into the christmas cheers.

It hit Jake in that moment as he rounded out of your hospital room that he should get you something small to open when you wake up from surgery. The hospital has a gift shop right? Perhaps some flowers and a small gift you could keep with you during chemo. Maybe a book or a– *Thud*

Caught up in his own train of thought as he made his way to the nurses station, Jake ran straight into someone coming out of the elevator. There were two very distinct things Jake noticed as he came back into the reality around him. Those distinct things being that the man he’d run into was carrying not only flowers, but a small gift. Huh, uncanny.

“Sorry man, my bad.” The man apologised almost immediately after the mild impact.

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” Jake responded with a polite smile his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” Jake reached out to shake the guy's hand, in retrospect he should have kept walking. Jake really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions.

The most paranoid fantasy Jake could think of would never have prepared him for the name that the man spoke next as he took Jake's hand in his.

“Jensen–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Okay, I'm ready.” Neither Jake nor Jensen knew if you had mentioned either one in conversation, so, respectfully, both men chose to play the fool. Neither one really wanted to ask. Neither Jake nor Jensen wanted to be the one to open that can of worms.

When Jake returned with the borrowed scissors in his grasp–he acted as if he hadn’t just met the man he assumed was the very Jensen in your contacts.

“Last chance Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Are you positive?” He asked with a smile so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m all in with you, just say the word and we do whatever you wanna do.”

There was a momentary pause in the conversation. Jake's questions lingered in the air around you, it was hard not to get caught in the moment, get lost in the emerald eyes looking at you through the mirror. Jake stared you down as you shifted in your chair to look at him. He saw no hesitation in your eyes as Jake followed your gaze, searching for any sign or signal that could indicate that the next few moments were about to be a mistake.

“Honey—“ Jake tried to heed the warning lights flashing before his very eyes as you closed the gap between the two of you. Jake stood leaning over your right shoulder, looking longingly at your lips. “Don’t do anything stupid now.”

“Loving you is stupidity—“ Was all you said before you let your lips softly connect with your husband’s. Jake kissed you back with enough love in his heart to knock the wind right out of your lungs. The fleeting moment was broken, however, when Jake pulled away. The idea of another man kissing you on his mind, what was this guy's deal? Jackson? Jason?

“Come on Mrs Potato Head, hand me those scissors—“ Jake chuckled, hiding his own insecurities about the man he’d unintentionally met in the hall. You took a second to keep up, but as you licked your lips to savour the taste of Jake's signature vanilla chapstick, you nodded and handed him the scissors.

“I’m ready.” You sighed, once again looking back at your own reflection. “Let’s get this over with.” Change is an inevitable part of life, but that fact didn't make the current circumstances any easy to process. “Do you think that there's gonna be a place for me despite my inability to believe in a higher being?” Jake understood what you were saying, but he didn't have the answers. “I'm starting to wonder more about if there could ever be a life after death.”

Clumps of hair in small sections fell to the tiled floor around you as Jake worked his hands through your hair. Cutting strands from your head like the local mower man cut grass. It felt like such a mundane task to complete, like this was an everyday run of the mill, average experience. But for you? This was a hard and confronting pill to have to swallow.

“I’ve spent my whole life not believing in religion, so who am I supposed to pray to to keep me alive Jake?” Jake saw the tears in your eyes as he cut your hair with caution and steady hands, he heard the small but audible sobs that escaped your lips as he switched from the scissors to the clippers. The buzzing all but silenced your cries but Jake knew this was hard on you. The tears that stained your cheeks clearly reflected your sadness, anger and the inner turmoil that had been engulfing your entire existence since your diagnosis.

“You don’t pray to anyone Honey, you’re stronger than this cancer could ever be.” Again, no one ever sits you down and prepares you for this. No one gives you the heads up about the possibility of one day having to shave your wife's hair off in the name of dignity and control. But as Jake ran the shavers across your scalp, leaving nothing but a small layer of fuzz in their wake, he saw just how much sorrow and pain was swirling in your eyes.

Jake thought to himself in that very moment: ‘I've been needing a haircut for a while now anyway.’

With one quick motion and in the blink of an eye, Jake was running the shavers right down the middle of his head. You really had to take a second to process what he’d just done, what your husband had just done right behind you.

“Jake!” The shrill that escaped your mouth was something unmatched to any emotion you had ever expressed before. “What are you doing?” The image of Jake shaving his head in solidarity would forever be burnt into your mind.

“You said it yourself–hair holds memories and we can make new ones together.” Jake cooed as he shaved off those golden boy locks you loved to run your fingers through. He suited the buzz cut a little more than you did if you were being perfectly honest.

With teary eyes and puffy cheeks you stood on weak legs. The simple gesture of a haircut meant the world to you, Jake knew that. He didn't want you going through this alone. If shaving his head with you brought you a sense of solace? He was more than happy to.

“Looks good–” You smiled as tears ran down your cheeks. Jake reached out to cup your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with the pads on his thumbs. “Mr. Potato head.”

“Consider us the founders of the Potato Head Society.” Jake chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. In order to cherish you the way you deserved, Jake had to be the bigger man here. He knew that a cloud of uncertainty loomed in the halls, one by the name of Jackson or fucking Jeremy for all Jake cared. But as he stood in the bathroom with you, surrounded in the locks of hair that had once been on your head, he knew damn well at the end of the day it was still his last name you chose to take. “Good thing you don't have an odd shaped head after all, it kinda suits you.”

“Would you still love me if I did?” You asked quietly, giving Jake an excuse to confess his love. Jake's lips were soon pressed softly and ever so tenderly against your once again in the blink of an eye as gentle hands still worked to soothe your stained cheeks.

It wasn’t a hard question to answer, nor an easy question to ask—but as Jake pulled away to rest his forehead on yours as he ran the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, you knew it was an easy concept to understand:

“I’ve never, and I will never, stop loving you Honey.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

For as much as Jensen hated all things hospital related, over his past few years of treatment, he’d come to know these halls better than he knew the back of his own hand.

From countless radiation treatments, to endless chemotherapy sessions. Hours upon hours of remedial therapies and acupuncture sessions to stimulate nerve endings, Jensen was a man who was just about ready to pull the plug and live out the remaining few months he had, or less, from the comfort of his back deck.

He’d been poked and prodded, sliced and diced, far too many times to count on both his hands and for what? A few extra months tacked on top of a few years spent battling pancreatic cancer. No thankyou. Jensen had always had an optimistic outlook on life, until his life started to become the same bland halls and the same bland rooms, with the same bland doctors and nurses who all shared the same look of medical sympathy.

Jesen, for all intents and purposes, was ready to give up his signature status of being the resistant ‘pin cushion’. The student nurses could learn how to change cannula sights on the lady, Paola, who sat in the same chair for every chemotherapy session.

The last few days hadnt been too hot for the six foot one, brown eyed, brown haired (allegedly) man. His prognosis had been diminishing ever since he got the news his treatment was no longer as effective as it once had been.

The day Jensen was told he only had a few short months to live before his organs would begin to fail, even with treatment, was the same day he saw you crying outside the local doctors office. The Hermitage centre as they called it.

The last thing Jensen ever wanted was for his life to be meaningless, before he knew what he was doing? His feet were padding against the concrete as the psalm of his hands began to sweat inside his jean pockets.

“You look like you’ve just been told you’re dying?” As the elevator counted up the floors of which Jensen had to take from the ground floor of the Rhode Island Hospital to the oncology unit, he could vividly remember asking you that question. He recognised the look on your face because not ten minutes prior he;d been told the very same thing.

“I'd start to get your affairs in order, Mr. Hughs “ It hadn't been just a regular check up with his local general practitioner. But it had been the almost final nail in a long awaited coffin.

As the elevator dinged, Jensen took a few steps out into the bustling hallways of the oncology ward. Within seconds, he was met with a force so muscular it damn near knocked him back a few paces. But the cancer ridden ex fireman squared his shoulders and kept easy on his feet.

“Sorry man, my bad.” Jensen almost immediately apologies after the mild impact. He assumed that it was him that had caused the slight collision. His special awareness was pretty shot these days. The flowers he carried were almost crushed on impact, however he managed to save the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies.

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” The man responded with a polite smile Jensen could only assume his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” like a slow motion car wreck, Jake reached out to shake Jensens hand. In retrospect he should have kept walking. Jensen really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions.

The most paranoid fantasy Jensen could think of would never have prepared him for the look of utter betrayal that smeared itself across the blonde headed aviators face as Jensen shook your husbands hand:

“Jensen–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #tgm cast #tgm imagine #jake seresin angst #jake hangman x reader #top gun maverick

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deathbxnny · 11 months

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Hi there! I want to say tysm again for doing my Hsr MC x Genshin Impact MC s/o request. So i was rereading that post for the fourth time i think (i cant help but imagine cute and dorky stuff they would do together whenever i reread your post) and a thought popped up on what would it be like if the traveler are with the others. So can i request hcs of the rest of the Astral Express crew (Himeko, Welt, March, and Dan heng) x s/o like traveler from genshin impact

(Btw TYSM FOR YOUR SONG SUGGESTIONS, i went and play all the songs you suggest and DAMN YOU HAVE GREAT TASTE, i can honestly see myself listening to it on loop. Melanie Martinez hasnt lost her touch but then again there is no way she would, she’s too amazing. Rn im currently listening to the entire album after listening to your suggestions. I still prefer her older albums like Cry baby and k-12 but that may change with me listening to PORTALS, its too early to say but i might update on you about it

Also HI THERE FELLOW MARETU FAN! Its so nice to know there’s someone else who likes their songs as well (none of my friends like their songs T.T) What’s your favourite song from MARETU? Mine is Mind Brand, ITS SO GOOD AND IM PROUD TO SAY I LOVE IT) Hope you have a great day/night btw!

- Flower Anon 🌸

-----♡

A/N: Hello Flower Anon! Thank you so much for your request and I'm glad you liked my song suggestions! I'm also so happy to meet another MARETU fan! My favourite song of theirs is DEFINITELY "Magical doctor"! I listen to it all the time and am obsessed with it haha!<33

Content: Traveler reader, tiny bit of angst if you squint hard enough, confessions, mutual pinning(kinda), friends to lovers, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》March 7th

She instantly did her best to become your friend at first, when you arrived on the Astral Express. She was determined to be your guide and show you the ropes, so everyone let her do it, as you also seemed to trust her fairly quickly.

You two became inseparable quite fast and always spent time together on the Express or on missions. She comforted you, whenever you were sad about your twin and promised to help you find them eventually. Surely you could, if you did it together! Yeah... her crush was very obvious for absolutely everyone and it was honestly adorable. But it was alright, as you felt the same.

She's fiercely protective of you on the battlefield and always shields you first out of everyone. She doesn't let you get hurt no matter what, even if you can handle yourself. You two still need to find your twin together after all, so just let her help you.

-----♡

》Dan Heng

He didn't think much of you at first, until he read up more on you and your situation. And after also talking to you, he started sympathising with your situation deep down, which made him warm up to you alot over time.

Once he does, he let's you hang out with him alot in his room, where he tries finding something on your twin in the archives. Is his way of comforting you, as he indirectly promises you that he'll help you find your twin this way. He doesn't notice his growing feelings for you either, so you might have to confess first eventually.

He's very protective of you and always keeps his eyes on you one way or another. He doesn't let anything hurt you and has your back during any battles you may have. You can count on him to keep you safe that's for sure.

-----♡

》Himeko

Himeko was the one to allow you to stay and therefore quickly became the person you relied on the most. You were quite grateful, even if she didn't see it as a big deal. She always comforts you and reassures you that she'll help you find your twin with all the resources she has.

You spend most of your days with her in the Astral Express watching the stars and drinking tea. She's always so interested in everything you talk about and takes time off work you whenever you need it. It was no surprise therefore, when feelings eventually just flourished between you two.

She doesn't let you on missions without her and she rarely does them as is, so you won't ever be in harms way. She wants you to live a comfortable and peaceful life on the Express, free of any stress or worries.

-----♡

》Welt Yang

Welt understood how you felt and therefore offered to help you out with anything you may need. That also included comforting you, when you were devastated about your lost twin. He promised, to help you find them and actually has a high chance of achieving that.

You spend alot of time with him on the Express and missions, as he is very dependable and comforting to you. Any questions you may have are answered by him with ease, you could practically listen to him talk all day and you do, whenever he explains something to you. He'll be painfully aware of his feelings for you, but will only admit them to you, once he knows you feel the same.

You can rely on him during any battle to protect you. It doesn't matter if you can defend yourself or not, he'll keep an eye on you at all times. You definitely don't have to worry about anything, when he's around.

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was okay, Flower Anon! And I'm so sorry for the wait!<33

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr welt #hsr welt x reader #hsr march 7th #hsr march 7th x reader #hsr himeko x reader #hsr himeko #hsr dan heng #hsr dan heng x reader #hsr

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cherry-dr0p · 30 days

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Okay!! So!! For those who have been following my ramble blog, you'd know I got into TF2 as of recent

Even if I haven't played the actual game yet... Kinda nervous because Im not the best at those types of games but nonetheless!! I present to you...

TF2 Doodles 💥❤️

(As a new fan... Kinda)

Page 1 doodle page;

Started to draw this because I wanted to develop a style for drawing my top 3 fellas! But then I realised I haven't included Sniper much and I didn't wanna leave him out too much, therefore!

Doodle page 2;

This one didn't go as well as the first one >:(

The white pen I used on the plane kept malfunctioning (dont worry, didn't get it absolutely everywhere) in which it got on the drawing twice >:[ Was less than ideal but hey, look!!! Pretty colours! Focus on the pretty colours!!!

I also not fond of how I did his anatomy bit I erm uhh yeah. I tried XD

Though I do like the gun...usually not good at drawing guns but for this one, it looks nice :3

Medic doodle!!;

The black pen kept showing through the page... This is so sad guys /j

Anyways!! Got told to draw Medic (again) by my irl friends and who am I to deny drawing a silly doctor? We're just gonna ignore the fact I didnt go over it fully with pen >:]

Lil Pootis doodles :D;

Last but not least!! Probably my favourite of the bunch, Lil' Pootis!!! >:D

Dont get me wrong, I have not watched the series yet, but I saw these birds around Tumblr and if anything happened to them, I would be fuming >:C They are the sweetest... and my favourites ever... I love them...silly birds...

I will watch the series, though!! I swear! Im planning on it tomorrow if no other plans fade into existence from thin air.

So yeah! In conclusion, I probably need to practice drawing the fellas but I can do that! They are quite fun to draw anyways. I'll draw the rest of the mercs too, dw :3

Ive been lurking and the fandom (on Tumblr anyways) seems cool!! Was quite nervous to post this but I think its now or never or you only live once or something like that XP

#tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 fanart #team fortress 2 #100% normal about them #lil' pootis #lil pootis #I love those goddamn birds so muchhh...#doodles #Ive worked on these altogether for 2 weeks now I think approx #I cant even decide my favourite from those three... Grr too hard of a choice #silly #I had to include the Kiwi bird. there was no other way!!!!#Oof my camera refused to focus for most of these drawings. RIP

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megumi-fm · 2 months

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this week fortnight on megumi.fm ▸ the last leg

is that a pun referring to my aching ankle? yes. is resting at home for another week gonna ruin my mental health? yes. but am I exaggerating and throwing a tantrum for something that's probably not a big deal? also yes.

📋 Tasks

💻 Internship // progress tracker ↳ biopython model replication ✅ ↳ code for obtaining single fasta from overlapping sequences ✅ ↳ running HMMer and superfamily script✅ ↳ output analysis 🔁 ↳ literature review on transport proteins 🔁 ↳ transport protein family analysis 🔁 🎓 Uni ↳ our paper is finally out! there's a doi and everything now <3 it's not open access though :/// I might do some totally legal things to ensure more people can read it ↳ collected the hardcopy of my LOR ↳ collected my gradecard ↳ visited my advisor and updated her on stuff 🩺Radiomics Project ↳ radiomic features finalized✅ ↳ data cleanup 🔁

📅 Daily-s

🛌 consistent sleep [14/14] 💧 good water intake [14/14] 👟 exercise [/14] just basic stuff to maintain ankle mobility

Fun Stuff this week

💗i went to uni to watch one of my friends present something to the juniors! then I spent the afternoon chatting with my guide and later on went window shopping with my best friends (in retrospect i should not have done this because my ankle got infinitely worse the next day and now I'm stuck resting at home for an additional two weeks) 🎮playing undertale with @muakrrr 📺 ongoing: Marry my Husband, Cherry Magic Th, Perfect Propose, Doctor Slump, Flex X Cop 📺 binged: Blueming, Roommates of Poongduck 304 📹 Started watching Going Seventeen // so I've been listening to SVT for a while now and I did watch their Don't Lie II eps like two years ago but I never really checked anything else... however, considering that I'm stuck at home and that @zzzzzestforlife (who has impeccable taste) has mentioned it often on their posts, I decided to check out GoSe properly and. wow. I started with their mystery episodes [fav scenes under cut] and now I'm watching GoSe2020 in chronological order and !!!!!! The concepts, the storylines, the acting, the humour, the editing, even the subtitles are all so so good. I've been watching this show for two weeks now and I am now officially a cubic <3

📻 This week's soundtrack

Wk1: The Best of ATEEZ // I've been real obsessed since their 2024 world tour clips started showing up on social media; I was a casual enjoyer up to this point and then I went and checked them out and it's all so dystopian and immersive. My favourites would be Intro: Long Journey (which makes me feel like I'm in Pirates of the Caribbean), the Symphony version of Wonderland (for its musicality and Jungho hitting those notes), MATZ (that is insane in it's the visual storytelling in the MV) and Wake Up (whose performance choreo ended me) Wk2: The Best of BTS // in an attempt to revive a project I abandoned a year ago, I spent wayy too much time curating this playlist to get the most satisfying BTS transitions ever and I can confidently say that I'm nowhere close to my goal T-T but I kind of like the way it is now so I am simply going to give up

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[Feb 12 to Feb 25 ; week 7+8/52 || this was not supposed to be one post but then... idk what happened... I feel very dull lately because of my ankle and just when I thought it was getting better it's become painful again... my friends and parents keep chastising me (and fairly so) for trying to move around even before I fully heal but patience has never been my strong suit. sitting still is really the biggest punishment for a hyperactive ADHD kid like me... i'm sure plenty others have it worse but... yeah... GoSe really carrying my mental health right now ]

my fav GoSe scenes

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mirjam-writes · 4 months

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What about you? What writing are you happy about this year?? Is there anything you want to brag about?

Happy Yule, solstice, Christmas, Festivus, (belated) Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Doctor Who Day! And anything else you might celebrate, or happy Monday if you don’t!

Thank you so so much for asking 🧡🧡

This was quite a writing year for me. I wrote only four stories, but I'm quite proud of all of them. To Love Somebody was my first foray in rare pairs. An angsty backstory for Shadwell, and what made him the way he is. It has an hopeful ending, and I'm quite proud of the structure, and how much I managed to squeeze into the small word count. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun is a short and wholesome outsider pov story I wrote for an event. I was surprised how much people liked it! It was also my first attempt on present tense, which continued in A Stable Relationship, one of my FTH stories for this year (the second one will probably be a bit late, and be completed in January). I had fun writing it, and it turned out to be a good one, and the only one of these oneshots that was Explicit. It was set in horse riding world.

The reason why I wrote only three oneshots, and why my second FTH piece is late, was of course my favourite story of all time: Be Still My Soul trilogy. A human AU story set in the sad moments of Finnish history.

Despite the class differences, landowner Azirafel Fjäll and sawmill worker Anton Crowley have been friends since childhood. The Great War rages over Europe and the Empire of Russia is in the firm grip of a revolution. The echoes of these fateful events carry over to the Grand Duchy of Finland, vaguely sauntering towards independence. Azirafel and Crowley find themselves on the opposite sides of a conflict that will eventually lead to a bitter civil war, tearing the country apart.

Is there a possibility for them to find their own side, or will this be the end of their budding love story?

I started writing the third part in January, and finished it just before S2 aired in July. It finished posting in October, and it's now complete and done, though I'm still commissioning art for it. This story took over my life for over two years, and it's my baby. I've had such a hard time to let go of it! It also has its own blog @be-still-my-soul-fanfic where I posted dozens of posts about historical and cultural facts. The story is written in a way you don't need to know anything of the Finnish history beforehand (my American betas made sure of that). It's a lovestory, not a history lesson, BUT if you want to learn more, there's a lot of extra info available 😅

I think it's the best story I've ever written (and probably ever will). Many readers have agreed, but it's angsty with very heavy themes until the happy ending, so it's not for everyone and I think posting it just when S2 aired cut some of the potential readers. The third part of the trilogy is now five kudos shy of 100 kudos, and I'm hoping it could get past that milestone before new years. 😂 So yeah, my own personal favourite gets the least interaction of them all. Oh well.

I'm gonna sound a bit self-absorbed, but I'm proud I finished it and it turned out even better than I hoped. My dream would be to print a physical copy or to record a podfic of that, but both might be a bit too much work.

For the next year I have two zine fics to finish, and I have applied to a third one. I have one event fic in the works as well, but the FTH story will be the one I'll concentrate until it's done. It's an oneshot human AU which somehow grew limbs and now it's 7.6k words and nowhere near done 😱 That's my holiday project.

Thank you for asking!! I was so delighted to get a chance to ramble myself 🧡 There's never enough chances for writers to gush about their own work because it always feels a bit self centered. That's why I like to wander around Tumblr and give people the perfect excuse to do that! Peek at the #writer's favourites tag if you want to see other fanfic writers sharing their favourites! And feel free to use the tag yourself if I forgot to ask someone (I was very much not organised when going through the blogs and I'm not good at matching blog names with writer names 😅)

I hope you'll have a magnificent new year 🧡

#writer's favourites #my writing #good omens #ask #good omens fanfiction

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mad-aims · 4 months

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Hi! Welcome to mad-aims’ tumblr! 👋

I’m Aims, a 30+ artist (any pronouns I don’t care) that loves Good Omens. It’s my favourite. ❤️❤️❤️

Favourite show, favourite book. It holds a very dear place in my heart.

That’s my artwork of 00s Crowley at the top of the page. I’m very proud of that one! 🥰🥰🥰

In case you weren’t sure, my favourite character is Crowley; I kin with him and I absolutely adore him! I’m also a huge ineffable husbands shipper too! 🥰

Other stuff I blog: Sometimes Doctor Who, things Neil Gaiman has posted, things with David Tennant, things with Michael Sheen, things with the both of them.

Oh I sometimes blog updates on my seedlings. Yeah I’m growing some baby trees and I’m really proud of them. I named them Vash and Knives. 🪴🪴

I originally started this blog as a Trigun blog (I love anime!) but I’ve gotten the brain rot for Good Omens again. I don’t think it’s going to leave me for a very long time.

Reason being, I suffer with mental health problems; specifically anxiety and depression. I watched Good Omens when I was going through a very dark patch in my life and it’s cliche I know, but it really helped me get my zest of life back. Obviously it wasn’t the only thing. A lot of it was pure hard work and determination, also the love and support of my family and friends, but watching it helped a lot. I decided my life was pretty good actually and well worth living, I got my creativity back that I thought I’d never have again, I fell in love with those two idiots and wanted to be a part of their world. Now I’m always drawing art of them, reading fanfics about them, joining in with discussions about them and sometimes even slightly poking fun at them.

Also thanks to watching Good Omens with its amazing cast of queer characters, I’ve since come to terms with myself as a person and the fact that I’m bisexual.

Who went off on a tangent there! 🤣

Oh yes! I’m also a total simp for David Tennant. He’s a beautiful person both inside and out. A total sweetheart. 🥰

As Crowley it’s like they asked him “What gender?” And he just replied “Yes.” I love him your honour! 😍😍😍

So yeah if you enjoyed my little spiel, please follow or at least stay a while.

There’s iced tea and sushi here in this tropical garden. Please come on over and touch grass for a bit.

Ciao! 👋

Aims

My most used tags.

#mad-aims draws things (my art)

#mad-aims answers (tag games and answers)

#mad-aims talks (text posts about me)

#mad-aims fic rec tag (fanfic rec)

#mad-aims shower thoughts (meta, fan theories and daydreams about gomens)

#mad-aims gpoy (selfies)

#mad-aims stuff (just stuff)

#mad-aims dreams (dream diary)

#plant update (touch grass with vash and knives 🪴🪴)

#good omens (that gay angel and demon show)

#mad-aims #about my tumblr #me #mad-aims talks #good omens #trigun #crowley #vash the stampede #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow

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linzerj · 4 months

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20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by @sinvulkt for this 20 Questions for Writers ask game!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

On AO3... i only have 12 currently. (On FFN however... I have 67 lol)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

107,857

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Primarily Marvel nowadays, specifically Doctor Strange (MCU)! But I've also consistently written for Danny Phantom, and also delved into Pokemon, Teen Titans, TMNT, Warriors Cats and Twilight back in the day... its a lot lol.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Golden Gate's Heroes - a Venom and Ant-Man/MCU crossover from before NWH/Venom 2. It has 2,238 kudos as of posting!

Displaced Phantom - a DP and MCU crossover, 577 kudos

Stars Will Light the Way - What If...? Strange Supreme met America Chavez? The longest fic I've posted lol, 476 kudos

alive - an introspective look at Mewtwo, assuming the one from Detectice Pikachu is the same as the one from Pokémon: The First Movie, 420 kudos

through the multiverse - connected drabbles following the Guardians of the Multiverse from the first season of What If...? 329 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! Sometimes I might not see it or forget to reply if I don't reply right away lol, but I love engagement on my fics and I always want to make sure I thank everyone for reading!

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uh. Hmm. I actually... don't know? Maybe one of my post-Infinity War pre-Endgame Doctor Strange fanfics, like Eidetic or death is an old friend? Just because they end with Infinity War and that was tbh a kinda angsty ending... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably has to be Stars Will Light the Way, tbh. Most of my fics are fairly "happy" tbh but so many are oneshots and anthologies, that this seems like the best pick.

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

I've gotten maybe one "hate" comment, just telling me my pacing was too slow for their liking or something like that lol. But generally, my audience has been very nice!

9. Do you write smut?

Nope!

10. Do you write crossovers?

OH YEAH!! A good chunk of my old fanfics on FFN were crossovers lol. Actually my first several fics were all crossovers I'm pretty sure. I love a good crossover...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of... and don't get any ideas folks!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Um... no, I don't think so!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Nope!

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

Uhhhh.... hmmm.... its hard to say. I am very much a multishipper - I'll ship one guy with quite a few other characters if the dynamic could even conceivably work. But I also tend to prefer gen-fic or found family fics too...? But um. Uh. All-time favorite ship is probably Eddie/Venom. I will not elaborate further.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Gosh ok it's this Blue Beetle fic, with Jaime from the Young Justice cartoon swapping places with Jaime from the movie. I just... idk how I want to end it so it's been sitting on my laptop, mostly untouched since like. September or October of 2023. Whoops...

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Idk lol, um... getting into the heads of the characters I write?? I've been told that I can capture certain characters really well, at least. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Fight scenes can be a little tough for me to write... but also. I procrastinate on writing sometimes, and i'm terrible at planning fics out fully before i start them... so if I don't write scenes and ideas down, they're gone, and then I don't know what to write for my fic, and then the fic never gets finished 🙃

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Eh, depends on the language - I took enough Spanish to be able to pull it off, I think, and I also have a few coworkers who speak Spanish fluently who will make sure I'm doing it right if/when I use it. Other than that, I'm not sure if I trust Google Translate enough to write dialogue in any other language...

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Omg... apparently... it was a crossover between Danny Phantom and Warriors (the books about the cats)... I figured it would be Danny Phantom but that. That is hilarious to me. I really was a Warriors Cats kid....

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

It's gotta be Stars Will Light the Way. Idk man, it just... it may not be as popular as Golden Gate's Heroes, but it's currently the longest fic I've ever written and published and FINISHED, and im so proud of that. The fact that even 400+ people liked it enough to give it a kudos... I wrote that fic for me, so to know others liked it too means the world to me.

I know you're supposed to tag people for these things, but. I always feel like I'm bothering people when I do. Even though some of my mutuals, I know y'all write fic... so if you see this and want to go for it, any of my mutuals or followers, go for it, consider yourself tagged!

#linz rambles #linz answers #ask game #fanfiction #writing #my stuff #hey while youre here. consider checking out my fics if you havent already ;)

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petekaos · 2 years

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hi *checks writing on hand* rahul!!!! this is your permission slip to go insane about your top five favourite non-canon couples

oh, so you DO know who i am? 🤨 even if you have to read your notes to remember 😞 LMAO hi el, thanks for the ask 🥰💗 in no particular order:

1) chanon and pom from the gifted. y’all already KNOW … y’all already know. it’s about the sacrifice and the devotion and the way that chanon gave himself up so pom could have his future and the way that they reunited with all of this guilt and misplaced anger and this lingering feeling of betrayal but then how that all melted away so quickly and how their roles reversed from chanon being the steadfast voice of support and revolution to pom gently supporting him and reassuring him that if he’s still alive, chanon must be too. god. GOD. “you’ll be a teacher. a good one. i promise.” YOU KNOW? just picturing chanon and pom having their sweet life … chanon getting into the academy and calling pom every day before bed (“yeah, baby, everything is going well. how were the kids today?”) and pom correcting assignments as chanon sits next to him on the couch and gets his work done … chanon and pom cooking dinner together, laughing and bickering and grinning at each other, pom kissing chanon in the mornings before leaving for work … man. man i love them so much. you know you know you know. they are love in its rawest and truest form. what i would give to see a post-canon spinoff. what i would give 😭😭😭

2) jung hwan and taek from reply 1988. y’all know about this as well. listen, jung hwan and taek may have other love interests in the canon, but shipping isn’t about the canon. i love their dynamic, you know? how they both have crushes on deok sun but how they both value and prioritise their friendship, how jung hwan cares for taek so quietly (pulling the blanket over him, licking the pad of his finger and wiping away the food at the corner of his mouth, eating together with him 😖) and how taek is so sincere with jung hwan (telling him his food tastes good, saying he came to visit him, using his connections to get a doctor to jung hwan’s dad quicker). and man, the shoelaces scene. THE SHOELACES SCENE. i don’t even have to come up with post-canon headcanons for them because y’all already know the 소확행 ‘verse, but just … jung hwan and taek living well, living openly, loving each other. so in love, shy about it, but curling around each other in the warm sunny mornings. jung hwan and taek going home and being teased to hell and back (taek presses a kiss to jung hwan’s cheek and the entire table coos and gags), jung hwan and taek as boyfriends, husbands … 🥺🥰

3) dongsik and juwon from beyond evil. don’t even look at me … 😭 i’m emotional. they’re so similar to chanonpom in the sense of the themes such as devotion and sacrifice and love healing you which really explains why i love them so much. whenever i think about how dongsik and juwon started caring for each other so much, it truly makes me want to start crying and sobbing and screaming and shouting and wailing. i’ll be thinking about them for a long time … the electric tension, the “you can’t. not anymore.”, the “juwon-ah.” i hope for them, after canon, they can slowly find their ways to one another and settle down quietly. imagining juwon and dongsik living well in their small house in manyang, a cat lazing about in the afternoon sunshine in the garden dongsik has so carefully cultivated despite not having a green thumb, just so he can stop seeing holes in the earth whenever he goes outside, and juwon continuing doing the meticulous work of finding women and children. maybe, after some time, a kid tearing about the house. juwon reading them a goodnight story in that deep voice of his and dongsik watching the two of them fondly. a good life, a quiet life, a sweet life. 😖💗

4) hwi and seon ho from my country: the new age. god, this show is painful, and they’re painful too. childhood friends to estranged people to enemies to friends to lovers but were they really enemies ever? it’s insane to me how they gravitated around one another, how the red string of fate constantly brought them back to each other, how if things were different, they could have had an easier life. they also had some of the rawest dialogue: “your sword still feels affectionate.” but also “i think hwi and seon ho were the sun and the moon in their past lives. i bet that’s why they seem so inseparable in this lifetime.” 🥺😭💔 this show had one of the best finales i’ve ever had the honour of seeing in television (i won’t spoil it now) but it was just so fitting to their story. maybe in another life, hwi and seon ho could have been happy together. maybe seon ho could bashfully look down when hwi makes sweet faces at him. i’d just love to see them happy and okay 😭💔 “my country was just one step behind me. if only i had known that sooner.”

5) woochan and insol from racket boys. we’ve talked about them countless times but i just adore them with all my heart. the way insol was so quiet once he joined the team but woochan took him under his wing and they teamed up to play doubles at the end 🥲 and the way insol is so attentive to him and watches his matches and gives him feedback. and their height difference! you already know my fic idea for them 😖 insol hopelessly pining over woochan in high school when they’re playing doubles and they have to spend so much time together and thinking that woochan could never like him back, but meanwhile woochan is just as hopelessly head over heels for him 😭😭😭 call me basic but tall gentle boyfriend woochan carrying insol’s badminton gear!!! i love them, i love them so so so much 💔😞 i really have to write fic for them, let me add that to the list! you already know what it is:

anyway thanks for this ask el!! i had so much fun talking about my fave blorbos 🥺🥺🥺

put ‘top 5 anything’ in my inbox!

#thanks el this was so much fun hehe 🥰#ellis tag #tipnaree #rahul answers

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izziejomarbles · 2 years

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called you again

coffeeshop tom x reader

this one is fluffy but still a bit sad. this is my easter present to you guys, i hope y’all are enjoying the holidays. i also hope you guys enjoy this.

warnings: mentions of death and grief. tom is a dick for a second. so much love it makes even me want to vomit.

It had been 4 months since your husband's funeral, and you saw him round every corner. The flower shop down the street, the dry cleaners, even your favourite coffee shop.

You decided you needed a fresh start. Everyone in your old town knew who he was and you were tired of the sympathy. You had just settled into your new apartment when you saw a leaflet for a coffee shop down the street. This was just what you needed.

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

‘I’ll have a chai latte please.’ You smiled at the barista, hoping to make a good first impression.

‘Name?’ The barista doesn't even attempt to make eye contact with you as she gets out her pen for the cup.

‘Y/n.’ You smile awkwardly as she walks away, before hearing laughter next to you.

You turn to be met with a surprisingly handsome face, hair in perfect waves and pearly white teeth curled into a smile.

‘Did I do something?’ Your brows are furrowed as the mystery man shakes his head.

‘No, no. That's Lucy. She isn’t the most polite when it comes to customers. I’m Tom. And I’m guessing you’re new here?’

You grin, shaking his outstretched hand.

‘Was it that obvious? I’m Y/n.’ You notice he holds onto your hand a little too long, before you slip your fingers out from his palm.

Tom grabs his and your drink from the countertop, before walking over to a table.

‘What brings you here? People usually have a story before moving here.’

You didn’t really want to go round this new place broadcasting that your husband had wrapped his car around a pole, but you figured one person couldn’t hurt, and you didn’t want to lie to this nice man.

‘Um, my husband died. So I moved. That’s my story. What’s yours?’

You could see his eyes soften as he takes in your words. He opens his mouth to say something, before closing it and facing away from you.

‘My job brought me here. I’m a doctor.’

You smiled thoughtfully, taking your drink from his hands, wrapping your cold fingers around the cup.

‘He was a doctor too. My husband, I mean.’

‘He must have been a good man then.’

Your eyes welled up, happy to be talking about your late husband without pity.

‘The best.’

You take a sip of your drink.

‘Where do you live?’

He leads you to the window of the shop, pointing at your apartment complex down the street.

‘Just up the road.’

You look up at him.

‘No way! I live there too, number 27.’

His eyes light up, sparkling under the soft café lights.

‘I’m number 32! You’re probably right underneath me. Can I walk a pretty girl to her apartment?’

Widow. You think. Not a pretty girl. But he’s cute, and you need a friend anyway.

‘Okay.’

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

2 weeks later, you finally invite him into your home, and he nearly jumps for joy.

As he takes a few steps in, you ask if he would like a drink.

‘Black coffee would be great, thanks.’

You make you two drinks as Tom walks around your apartment. Looking at every picture, inspecting each one carefully.

‘Bit stalkerish, don’t you think?’

You notice him pick up a picture of you and your husband at your college graduation, and you drop your mug. That picture wasn’t even supposed to be out of its box.

Tom reacts quickly, putting down the frame, and rushing over to you.

‘You okay?’

You try to compose yourself quickly.

‘Yeah, yeah. Let me clean this up, don’t want you hurting yourself.’

Tom grabs your hand, grounding you.

‘Let me help, y/n/n. Hand me a towel.’

You help Tom pick up the broken china with the towel, scooping it into a bin.

You both sit on your kitchen floor, when Tom bursts out laughing. You are confused for a second, before joining him.

He stops, before looking into your eyes. His eyes flicker down to your lips. You don’t have time to freak out before his lips are on yours. You pull back quickly, and his face turns bright red.

‘What was that, Tom?’

‘I thought you liked me?’

You shuffle away from him, wanting to cover your ears like a child. You did like him. You just weren’t ready.

‘I think you should leave.’

He grabs your hand, and you don’t have the strength to pull back.

‘Why are you pretending you don’t feel this between us? I will respect any decision you make, but why are you acting like you don’t want this when you obviously do?’

You need him to shut up.

‘Stop it! I’m married!’

Your words surprise both of you. You get up, staggering, tears blurring your vision.

‘Please get out of my house, Tom.’ You whisper into the air.

Flashbacks of your last kiss with your husband are playing like a carousel in your mind. You realised you hadn’t been kissed since.

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

It took a week for Tom to come knocking at your door. He had been plucking up the courage, figuring out what to say, how to apologise. He had finally come up with something.

But when you opened the door and saw Tom, you burst into tears. Tom tried to start apologising, but you had already wrapped your arms around his coat.

‘He gave me his shoes.’

Tom hugged you back but couldn’t figure out what you had said through your tears.

‘What, honey?’

You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt in your palms, finally letting everything out.

‘He gave me his shoes. On that day, I couldn’t…I couldn’t find any shoes to wear to work, so he, he gave me his shoes and told me to wear them. He kissed me and then he walked out the door. He gave me his shoes.’

Tom stroked your back, shhing you, mumbling oh honeys and oh sweethearts into your hair.

‘He gave me his shoes. He gave me his shoes. He gave me his shoes.’

He carried you back into your apartment, and tucked you into his bed, before brushing hair out of your face.

‘I’ll wait, Y/n. I’ll wait till you’re ready to be with me. Because I’m up for whenever. But till you are, I’ll be a friend.’

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

It had been 7 months since your incident at your doorstep, and you were finally ready to be with Tom. He had been patient, waited just like he said he would.

You wanted to prepare a nice meal, or take him out to dinner, but you just had to tell him now. You had made your way to his doorstep, and he opened the door, hair messy, and he was just in his pyjama bottoms.

‘Y/n? Wait, did I forget a movie night? Crap, I-’

You surged forward, crashing your lips against his. He is confused for a second, before he leans into the kiss. You pull back after a while, cupping his cheeks with your palms.

‘I’m ready, Tom. I’m ready to be with you.’

He grins at you, before going in for another kiss.

‘Fucking finally.’

listen to lizzy mcalpine’s new album. right now. do it.

love you all! requests and comments mean the world x

#coffee shop #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #y/n #tom holland x reader #coffeshop tom x reader #angst #fluff

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sunlightandsuffering · 3 years

Note

Corruption au Eren cockwarms mikasa once they’re together, he says ‘it helps him remember things’ and then every so often he gives her an orgasm just to keep her pliant against him while she plays with her boobs, he doesn’t do it in a cruel kind of way, it just he wants to pleasure her while doing his work

however when they’re not together, he’s such a sadist about it, he refuses to let her come even after he’s done his hw and is just fucking her, he always leaves when he’s done. Until one day when he starts feeling bad, he lets her come and it absolutely ruins him, he becomes obsessed with pleasuring her and seeing her face flushed pink, and hearing the needy sounds she makes and the quiet sighs, and the way her hands frantically move around until he Holds them together

STOP U GUYS KNOW ABOUT MY COCKWARMING OBSESSION STOP IT 😂😂 omg bless corruption Eren tho, this is my favourite kink for him, its so hot and it fits their situation perfectly.

It starts slow for Eren, to be honest he has no fucking idea when it really started. One day he'd been failing calculus, accepting he wasn't going to pass the year and thinking about maybe dealing drugs as a career path over his previous dreams of doctor. The next he was being forced to study three days out of the week with high school princess, Mikasa Ackerman.

At first he'd hated it, hated her really. He'd never been able to stand her, not since they were little and she'd chosen the dark side of Historia Reiss, bully and mean girl if there ever was one. Historia had sweet innocent baby Mikasa under her thumb. Mikasa followed her around like a dumb fucking puppy and Eren hated followers, they were all the same, no personalities, no aspirations of their own. She had no backbone either. She let all the shit Historia did slide, all the bullying, the holier than thou attitude because her family was richer than god. So very typical of the rich kids from the upper class neighbourhood. Eren would know, he used to be that rich kid, used to live that life. That was until his parents died in a brutal car accident, Zeke had inherited half the estate on the condition he'd take care of Eren and the rest was tied up in Eren's trust fund until he was twenty one.

Big surprise, no one had taken care of Eren and he was fucking lucky Armin and his grandpa had been there to help him out.

Everyone else, all his other 'friends' had given him the cold shoulder upon finding out he was no longer rich for the moment, he'd been dropped like a hot potato. So Eren's hatred of the upper class of Shiganshina had begun.

And Mikasa Ackerman was the pinnacle of it all, the worst the rich had to offer. She was beautiful, smart, loaded, had every opportunity in life, completely innocent and sweet, and the cherry on top of it all she volunteered on the weekend at the pound.

She disgusted him, so prim and proper and all around good girl while she was letting her 'friends' bully him for being poor, watching the injustice happen like a fish in a bowl.

He couldn't fucking stand her.

Of course, she would be the person who ended up tutoring him though, Principal Erwin mandating it if he wanted to graduate. So here he was sitting in the computer lab at five on a Wednesday watching her plump lips move as she explained integrals to him for the third time in an hour.

It's been a few months since they've started this little arrangement and he's gotten used to her presence. He wouldn't say he likes her, thats a stretch but he's not quite as cruel as he once was. He'd be lying if he said he didn't get a kick of watching that beautiful mouth part every time he does something mean though, those little gasps when he pinches her thigh or touches her where he shouldn't.

It's probably the highlight of these sessions.

Today he's feeling bold, maybe he'll push his luck. After all, he's done it before and she's never protested. For some reason or another Mikasa Ackerman has a soft spot for him, and no matter how mean, she lets him get away with murder. "Miki, come here I can't hear you properly." "And then you take the-what?" She looks up, pretty dove-grey eyes wide, sparkling as she explains her favourite subject, fucking math.

"You heard me, get over here." As usual, she takes orders so fucking well, it brings out the absolute worst in him. She's standing up and next to him in seconds and he's eye level with her perfect chest, those tits he dreams about every night, ripping her bra off with his teeth and sucking at those pretty pink nipples of hers. He's only seen them a few times, when he convinces her it's okay, when he's sure there's absolutely no one around, but they keep him awake at night. He pats his lap, grinning as she goes easily, settling into her favourite spot, he knows she loves it just as much as he does. Her thighs always shake and she shudders as his hands find their place cupping those beautiful creamy thighs, head tucked into her shoulder.

Mikasa starts talking again, beautiful lilt soothing him as she launches into a renewed explanation of integrals while his hands move up, up, up and to his absolute favourite spot, her panties. Today she's wearing cotton, he can feel it, must be laundry day and he kisses her shoulder as he feels how wet she is. Fucking perfect.

Lately she's been more partial to fancier underwear and he can't help but wonder if it's for him. He has a feeling it is, because the first month of their little arrangement he'd snuck as many peaks as they could and it was always pink or white cotton with polka dots and pretty bows. They were his favourite, so fucking innocent, so untouched by anyone but him.

He watches as she moves her pencil drawing lines and numbers, a little bit of the alphabet too and he ignores it all in favour of watching her chest, her breath hitch as he slides a finger inside her panties, feeling those velvet lips, it's been a while.

He's been on his best behaviour lately since Levi almost caught them at her house that one time, but he's horny and she's wet and he misses being inside her, misses watching her try to talk through him fucking her, how her voice would waver, change pitch. How many times she'd stumble through her sentences, have to start all over again, because she can't handle how big he is, doesn't know how to deal with the all-consuming sensation of him fucking deep within her walls, just sitting there filling her right up to her cervix.

Fuck.

He can't really be blamed for what he does next, and besides it doesn't matter, Eren's not a stupid kid, he allowed himself to get this far behind in calculus. He'd spent an hour last night going over integrals with the sole purpose of knowing what was going on today so he could fuck with his favourite toy.

He moves her a bit so she's resting more heavily on one thigh and slides his joggers and boxers down just enough expose his heavy cock to the air, already rock hard and waiting. Mikasa gasps a little bit, a breathy sound quick and sharp as she sees him, her eyes transfixed on his dick and he grins, sliding her panties to the side and slamming her down on him before she even knows what hit her. The slide is so fucking easy too, it takes almost nothing and he gets a sick sense of satisfaction that even with little to no prep she can take him, probably better than anyone else he's ever fucked. She takes it all no complaints, as deep as she can and he bottoms out.

She lets out a long moan, that pretty sound he wants to record and listen to on his phone over and over again, her head lolling back uselessly against his shoulder as she takes in the sensation.

"Miki baby you know this helps me remember better right, sorry it just wasn't getting through my head I was too distracted, but now I'm all ears, why don't you continue. What's that rule you were talking about, how are derivatives and integrals related again baby, they're opposites?"

She's breathing quick and Eren doesn't blame her, he's struggling to keep his tone level as her walls squeeze him, warm and soft and he wants to stay buried there forever, she's so fucking tight.

"I-Eren-I-yeah, opposites," she finally manages to get the last word out ending a little broken as she struggles to sit up and make herself comfortable on his cock, she should be used to it by now with how often he does this, but it never fails she always reacts like she's taking him for the first time all over again. He fucking loves it.

"Why don't you explain again baby, I don't think I really understand? And make sure you're clear Mikasa." She nods, still squirming around, every movement shooting electricity up through both of them as she accidentally grinds down, she lets out an involuntary moan and Eren smirks.

Eren takes it upon himself to move her up and off his cock a few inches before impaling her back down, biting down on her neck a little bit as punishment and she whines, teeth coming out to bite down on her lip brutally as she tries to keep quiet.

"Stop moving baby, you're distracting me, just take my cock like a good girl and explain for me yeah?" She replies brokenly her voice soft and struggling with her breaths, "Yeah."

#corruption au 🖤#idk where this came from #😂😂

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sequinsmile-x · 3 years

Text

Concussion

Emily gets hit over the head. Aaron worries.

Based on a prompt from the lovely @ssa-sparks

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Mentions of minor injuries/blood/stitches etc

Read over on Ao3 or below the cut!

It happens so fast.

Emily and JJ go in first at Aaron’s request, aware that there were children on the scene and their presence would startle them less. They clear the first floor of the house, JJ directing the two young boys they find in the living room out of the front door. Emily opens the door to the basement, clearing the way as she walks down the stairs.

As soon as her feet hit the bottom step she is hit in the head, hard, and falls to the ground. She cries out as her vision and hearing briefly go, the pain spreading throughout her skull immediately. She isn’t sure exactly what happens, she can hear the muffled sound of JJ yelling, and the others rushing in. The unsub apprehended by Derek almost immediately, the 2x4 he had used to hit her abandoned on the ground next to her.

Emily closes her eyes to block out the light that suddenly seemed too intense. She smells his cologne before she sees him. Something warm and uniquely Aaron filling her senses. Something that smelt like home. When she reopens her eyes Aaron is there, leaning over her, concern written all over his face.

“Em? Are you hurt? What happened?” He asks, grimacing when he looks at her properly.

“He got the drop on me.” Emily says as she sits up, her eyes briefly going blurry again. Aaron reaches out for her, his hands on her upper arms as he tries to steady her. She puts her hand to her forehead and pulls it back to see blood on her fingers. “Damn it.”

“What do you remember?” He asks, not bothering to cover his concern as he helps her sit up.

“Aaron, calm down. I didn’t even pass out.” She blinks a couple times, wincing as she again puts her hand to her head where she was hit. She shrugs his hands off of her, looking around the room at the local cops surrounding them, annoyed that despite the head injury she was the one who seemed to remember where they were. “I’m fine.”

He ignores her, his worry outweighing his usual ability on picking up on her frustration.

“Do you know where we are? What year is it? Who am I?” He asks in quick succession, dutifully helping her to her feet as she tries to do it herself, not making any comment when she grasps his bicep when she loses her balance.

“If you don’t stop, you won’t be my boyfriend for much longer, that much I can tell you.”

He ignores her again, used to being the one she would take out her frustration on, very rarely rising to the bait.

“The EMTs are outside, we’ll get them to have a look at you.” He says, following her up the stairs to make sure she doesn’t fall.

“Aaron.”

“Please don’t argue with me on this.” He pleads as they make it to the first floor, his eyes imploring her to just listen to him.

She gently nods her response and walks outside. She’s aware of his hand hovering just behind her lower back, ever ready to support her if she needed it, even if she didn’t want him to. ____________

“Why is it always you that ends up with a head injury?” Aaron asks quietly, his voice gentle as if he is avoiding making her inevitable headache worse.

She was sat up on a gurney, the EMTs having decided she needed to go to hospital to get checked over properly. Aaron was sitting on the edge facing her. Emily winces as he presses the ice pack the nurse had handed him against the gash on her forehead, the cold seeping in and making her head pound. They were waiting for the doctor to see if she needed stitches. The rest of the team were packing up at the precinct, waiting to meet them at the jet, leaving the couple to it.

It was well known that Emily wasn’t a good patient, neither of them were. In the few times one of them, or on one very stressful occasion for Dave both of them, were in need of a hospital check up since they got together they were only placated by each other. Raised eyebrows and vague threats enough to make them listen to the doctors as they were poked and prodded to make sure none of their injuries were permanent.

“I don’t always end up with head injuries, Aaron.” She says through her teeth. Her annoyance at him is lost in translation, the blood that still stained her face and had dripped down onto her chest removing some of its bite.

“Well you get more than the rest of us.” He briefly lifts the ice pack to look at the wound, his breath hitching when he sees it again. A mar on her pale skin, one of his favourite places to kiss her. He tenderly moves some of her hair out of the way, tucking it behind her ear with such affection she can’t help but smile at him despite her frustration. He puts the ice pack back down on her skin. “It’s like you’re attracted to 2x4s or something.”

“Shut the fuc-”

“Agent Prentiss?”

They both turn to see a doctor standing at the end of the cubicle they were in, an amused look on her face that told them just how much of their exchange she had overheard.

“Let's have a look at this head wound, shall we?”

Aaron moves the ice pack and stands up to give the doctor some room, but stays next to the gurney.

“Oh yeah, definitely stitches.” The doctor says, her gloved fingers pressing gently at Emily’s forehead.

“Seriously?” Emily says, staring at the doctor as she nods. “блять.”

The doctor looks concerned and turns to Aaron, her eyebrow raised.

“That’s normal.” He explains, a small smile on his face. “She always curses in Russian when she’s annoyed. Usually it’s aimed at me.”

“It's the best language to curse in.” Emily explains to the doctor before turning to glare at her boyfriend.

They patiently wait as the doctor sets up the stuff she needs to stitch Emily’s forehead. Aaron grabs her hand when he sees the needle the doctor moves towards her face as she explains it’s a local anaesthetic that will numb some of the pain. Emily raises her eyebrow at him, and mutters something under her breath about how she isn’t a child.

Neither of them acknowledge how tightly she squeezes his hand once the doctor begins. He leans down to press a kiss to the top of Emily’s head and smiles against her hair when she further tightens her grip on him. ____________

Emily was so relieved to get home she could have cried. The noise of the jet had made her head throb harder as the flight went on, the hours dragging on into what felt like days. Aaron had encouraged her to sleep on the journey but she refused, wanting to ensure her paperwork was finished before they landed. The promise of having the following day off getting her through the headache that was made worse by Derek and Spencer’s latest prank war.

She had caught Aaron glaring at them, an admonishment on the tip of his tongue but she had nudged him under the table with her knee before he could, a soft smile on her face as she looked at him adoringly.

Even when he pissed her off she loved him. And that pissed her off even more.

She hated being coddled, and even after all of this time with Aaron she still sometimes found his affection surprising. How easily he’d give it away to her, like it cost him nothing. How he’d buy her candy on the way home just because he walked past the aisle and thought of her. He’d touch her at any given opportunity. A hand brushing over her shoulder or her waist, pressed into her lower back as he guides her through a door. A kiss to her forehead, her cheek.

Ever since the EMT had told them she needed to go to the hospital he had been treating her like she was made of glass and she hated it, hated that he looked so guilty as the doctor had stitched her forehead back together. She knows he needs this, to look after her. Penance for what he deemed to be his fault since it was his decision to send her into the house first. So she lets him hover, with minimal barbs thrown at him so he knows when he is toeing the line between what she deems acceptable and what is too far.

She merely rolls her eyes at him, ignoring how it made her head burn with pain, when he insists on carrying her go-bag for her, but she stops him at opening her car door as he pulls their car up on their driveway. She’s out of the car before he can think about it, an eyebrow raised at him in defiance when he starts to protest.

As soon as the front door closes behind them he sets the alarm and throws their go-bags over the back of the couch. Emily takes off her shoes and coat, closing her eyes as her head swims when she bends forward to put the shoes away. When she’s upright again she knows he’s seen it, his eyes fixed on her.

“Why don’t you head on up sweetheart. I’ll be right up.” He says as he kisses her temple.

“Okay.” Emily replies, not having it in her to argue. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Her nighttime routine goes by in a blur, and if questioned she wasn’t even sure if she would remember completing all of the steps. She turns off the main light, leaving only Aaron’s bedside light on, and climbs in under the covers.

When Aaron enters the room she is almost asleep, shocked awake by the room flooding with light. She groans, pulling the comforter over her head to block out what she can.

“Too bright.” She grumbles, her voice muffled.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He turns the light back off and sheds his suit, his jacket over the back of a chair in a corner.

He gets ready for bed and climbs in next to her, a smile on his face as he gently pulls the covers back from her face. He gently runs his thumb over the edge of the large white dressing on her forehead, the spares tucked in his go-bag with instructions from the doctor on when to change it written on his phone.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper.

“Head hurts.” She admits, feeling able to do so now it was just the two of them in the safety of their bedroom, with no prying eyes or concerned glances from the team. Even though so much time had passed since Ian Doyle had torn through their lives, there was always a moment when she was hurt that she would see the panic on her friend’s faces. See them go back to the time they were all told she was dead. It made her want to protect them, claiming she was fine even though her head felt like it had been stamped on.

Aaron was different. There was so much naked honesty in their relationship, so much that could be said without either of them saying a word, that she knew he already knew how she was feeling at any given time.

At one point in her life she would have found it suffocating, the fact that someone could know her that well. When they started their relationship she kept waiting for it to happen, for him to be so good, so righteous, that it would tip her over the edge. Make her self-destruct and take him down with her. But it never came. Now she can’t imagine life without him.

“I know it does, baby.” He answers before kissing her forehead, his lips grazing the edge of the dressing. “Get some sleep.”

“Are you going to let me sleep?” She asks, voice thick with exhaustion as she curls into his side.

“I’m going to follow the doctor's instructions and wake you up every couple hours if that’s what you’re asking.”

“иди на хуй.”

He chuckles into the top of her head. “I’m going to choose to believe that's you saying you love me.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, honey.” ____________

“Em, sweetheart. You’ve got to wake up.” He shakes her slightly and can’t help the relief he feels when she groans.

“What time is it?”

“3am.”

“I hate you so much.” She grumbles before she pulls his arm tighter across her waist, wrapping herself up tighter in his embrace. She moves with a speed that surprises herself and reaches behind her to press her hand over his mouth. “If you even think about asking me what year it is and if I know who you are, I’ll make you sleep in the garden. Concussion or no concussion.”

He smiles against the palm of her hand and kisses it before removing it from his mouth.

“Straight to the garden?”

“The spare room or the couch are for good boyfriends who let me sleep through the night.”

He kisses her temple. “I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“I know.” She says, already drifting back off to sleep. “And I love you. But let's go back to sleep.”

“I love you too.” He kisses her temple again. “See you in a couple hours.”

He smiles at, and ignores, the Russian curse words she mutters under her breath and strokes her hair until she falls asleep again.

He doesn’t sleep that night, keeping an eye on her until the sun rises.

When he falls asleep on the couch the following afternoon she purposely wakes him by turning the tv volume all the way up, disregarding the pounding in her own head.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss fluff #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #it's just fluff guys #and a bit of hurt comfort #Aaron being worried #Emily being a bit of a pain in the ass #Emily Prentiss whump #tw: minor mention of blood #tw: one mention of needles

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emergencyroom · 2 years

Photo

Hi, I’m Tefi! @vera & I’m Chief Resident in the ER Fic and Fandom server. It’s a fun and inclusive space run by six queer women who met through the ER fandom - for all things ER fandom and for everyone in the community.

What drew you to being a part of the server?

After being an ER fan since I’m 12 years old finally got to me Zoe and M online so when Zoe said she was thinking on doing a Discord there wasn’t much to think about it er+friends? lets go.

Who is your favourite ER character?

Abby Lockhart. To the point my dad would use her to convince me to go to the doctor telling she would be there (I was 11 okay) Plus: Lucy Knight, I actually started ER because of her and Luc’s character leaded to Abby’s so here we are.

(I still love most fo them female characters but yeah abby is my number 1)

Which lesser-used channel on the server do you particularly appreciate?

The spanish channel in the multilingual chat one: I’m almost the only hispanic there, would love to meet more hispanic fans.

Favourite scene, episode, season?

Favourite scene hard to tell, there are so many but Lucy saying “how do you swallow a whole carrot” and Lewis taking away Romano’s prosthetic arm and hiding it in the ladie’s room, also whatever scene where Abby is being sassy.

Favourite eps: (that I can recall right now) Day for Knight, The Good Fight, Lockdown/ Chaos Theory, Secrets & Lies, Abby Normal/ Midnight.

Favourite season: Definitely S5 to S11

What would you like to see more of on the server in the future?

Tbh I don’t know, its perf as it is.

Have you ever taken an IRL trip to the ER!?

Twice, as a kid when I hit my chin and needed stitches and one time my sister accidentally pushed me and I almost broke a finger.

JOIN US! If you’d like to join the server you can do so using the link below - everyone is welcome! Link: https://discord.gg/9wnkspZvaJ

Once you join you can also nominate works to the first ever er fic and fandom awards using the link below! https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSclRinPGJaZ3TlfMrWPeuG-2KawGdX0GKQngAh9h0TnaUKY1Q/viewform

#er discord

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #oh to be spencer reid's neighbour that he falls completely in love with during the lockdown

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reidsconverse · 3 years

Text

matchmaker • spencer reid

Spencer X Fem!reader

Warnings: None!

Based on this request: Omg blurb where the team is having a night out and the girls and the guys are separated at the bar hanging out and all the girls are talking about who the hottest guy is and everyone says Derek and reader says she thinks spencer is hotter and everyone is kinda shocked and then Penelope tells him/tries to get them together?? (sorry its almost a month late anon)

“Oh my god, look at him go.” Garcia said, pointing at Derek who was currently in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by girls. This came as no surprise to any of you, he was known for his good looks and charming personality, both of those combined made him a catch to most girls.

“God, theres a reason he’s the most attractive guy on the team. Oh look at him move!” She squealed which made you giggle. Yeah, Miss Penelope Garcia was most definitely drunk.

“Hey,” Emily said in disagreement, she was equally as drunk which led to her having even less filter than normal, “Hotch is up there, something about how he’s always so tense just does it for me. I just wanna hold him down, loosen him up and show him who’s actually in charge, y’know.”

JJ groaned in disgust, not wanting to think of her superior in that way, “Ok Emily, time to slow down.” Her mom side coming out as she slyly replaces Emilys vodka with some water.

“What about you Y/N? Derek or Hotch... ooo what about Papa Rossi...? Garcia asked animatedly, wiggling her eyebrows and laughing at her addition of the older man who honestly, you viewed as a father.

“First of all, please never say that again. Secondly, none of them.” You said, taking a sip of your drink, now you certainly weren’t sober, but you also weren’t the drunk enough to reveal your secret crush... or so you thought.

“Oh come on,” JJ spoke up, “you’re telling me you find neither of them attractive.”

“No Jennifer, I just don’t think they’re the most attractive...” You said, a slight smile on your face.

Emily adorably scrunched up her face in confusion before it hit her. “No way... Dr Genius, really?” She didnt mean it in a bad way, you had just never outwardly expressed anything but a friendly interest in the doctor.

You felt the 3 girls stares boring into you and you caved. “Ok Ok, yes personally its Spencer. I’ve liked him since I first started but he would never be interested in me so lets not discuss it”

Penelope’s face lit up at your confession, completely ignoring your request. “Ooooo y/n, oh you have to tell him, oh you’d be so cute together.” Her voice was progressively getting louder and you didnt wanna risk anyone overhearing.

“Pen, seriously, he wouldn’t be interested, I mean he can do so much bett-“ You started, before you were cut off by Penelope.

“Dont be ridiculous, have you seen the way that boy looks at you, he’s totally into you.” She said, and before you could realise what was happening, she was calling him over.

“Penelope no what are you do-,” You began to protest but stopping when he approached the table. “Hey Spence.” You waved up at him, earning a smile in return.

“Hey! What’s up?” He asked.

“Reid, JJ was just about leave and she’s mine and Emily’s ride so I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind keeping our good friend Y/N here company” She said, slightly slurring her words and smiling as she looked back and forth between you and him. Oh my god you were gonna kill her.

“Uhh, sure yeah I have to wait for Derek anyway, I promised to drive him home.” He said, nodding towards the man in the middle of the dancefloor, clearly too drunk to be driving himself.

Penelope glanced at the other two girls, who quickly began gathering their things in order to leave. She placed a hand on Reids shoulder and smiled at him. “You, Spencer Reid, are a good friend.” She said before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Maybe even boyfriend.”

She pulled away before you could say anything back, giggling to herself before wishing us goodbye and joining Emily and JJ by the door.

You watched them leave, as Spencer took a seat next to you, “Sooo... how’s your thesis going?” He asked, genuinely interested in your work which made you smile, Penny was right about one thing, he was a really good friend.

“Uhh its ok, research is a killer and I kinda hit a dead end but i’m getting back into it.” You replied, and he nodded. It was quiet for a second as you fiddled with your glass.

“I-“ “So-“ You both said at the same time, making you laugh nervously.

“You first.” You offered, and he nodded. He also seemed nervous about what he was gonna say which made you curious.

“I- uh, I kinda overheard your conversation earlier...” He said, and your smile instantly dropped, and you could feel your stomach churning. He knew your secret, he knew that you liked him.

“Oh my god, Spencer i’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You said, about to begin a rambling of apologies when he quickly cuts you off.

“No! No you didn’t. I just, it was unexpected. Why would you think I wouldn’t be interested?” He asked, head tilting to the side as he looked you like a small confused puppy.

You looked down at your glass and sighed, “C’mon Spence, you’re you...” His confused silence made you elaborate, “You’re amazing Spencer, you’re kind, smart, funny and... and frankly you’re incredibly attractive. You’re way out of my league.”

You looked up when you felt his hand gently graze yours, Spencers aversion to touch was well known by everyone at the fbi, so this physical...almost intimate contact came as surprise.

“I- I’m not good at this,” He stuttered and it was your turn to be confused but luckily he continued. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love you from the first day we met and... I know that might be ridiculous to say because we havent spent much time together and love at first sight isn’t that common, actually a study showed that-“

Whilst you normally loved to listen to your favourite genius ramble on about facts and figures, right now all you wanted was to tell him you loved him too, honestly it felt like a pinch me moment and if it weren’t for the warmth of his hand against yours, you would’ve thought it was a dream.

“Spencer,” You looked up at him and smiled, gently squeezing the hand that was holding yours as reassurance... to tell him it was real, “I love you too.”

He slowly leaned in, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes silently asking if it was ok to kiss you and you didn’t hesitate to pull him forward and do what you had been waiting forever to do, your lips moulding together perfectly as if they were built for each other.

Little did you know that Derek was filming the whole thing to send to Garcia, who no doubt would not stop talking about what a matchmaker she is, and truthfully shes a damn good one.

#3 posts in one day???#my hotchniss heart won this one sorry#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg fluff #criminal minds #my works!

630 notes · View notes

deepseavibez · 3 years

Text

A Star In Your Sky || JJK

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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A Star In Your Sky [Jungkook]

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Genre - Dad!Jungkook; Angst; Sadness; Melancholy; Drabble:

Summary - Helpless as he was, 'what you didn't know couldn't hurt you'... it would have to do. There was nothing else he could do.

Warning - Angst; Sadness; Major Character Death;

Word Count - 1.7k

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Jungkook woke up with a start at the blaring alarm. 5am - his phone flashed in red numbers. Snoozing it, he left it back on the table.

The fog on the windows signifying a cold morning, the dreary grey clouds overcast, the edge of dawn.

Wiping the sleep out of his eyes he righted his shirt, pulling his sleeves over his cold hands, ruffling his hair as he stretched his limbs and swung them over the couch.

The cold hit his bare feet as he stood up and started his way down the hall, switching the lights on as he walked, to navigate his way to the room right next to his.

Door slightly ajar, he pushed on it, the slight creak a normal sound, a part of the surroundings, the many years behind the action of tuning it out.

His eyes fell past the threshold, items he knew by heart, colors he had committed to memory, the scent and the surroundings - his home.

The curtains in this room were purple, deep purple, the hue something akin to indigo, silver moons and stars shone at the catch of even the tiniest bit of light.

There were posters of cartoons, drawings in crayons and paints, a basket of toys in the corner of the room, and Cooky, the pink plush toy staring back on the made bed.

Eyes scanning the toy he remembered the day it came home.

----------

'Dad, look what Uncle Jinnie got me,' Moon ran up to him, as she giggled in excitement, eyes lighting up at the plush toy in her hand.

Turning toward the sound of his daughter, he bent down on one knee so she could hop into his waiting arms. He held her easily, her form tiny and stable in his muscled hands.

Her momentary glance to the tattoo on his skin, a second nature, something that made her smile, as her name had been carved into his forearm, stars surrounding it with a Saturn ring.

She was Daddy's little girl and she loved every moment of it.

Meeting her fathers eyes, she held up the pink bunny in her arms, a prize worth every drop of attention he could give.

Smiling bemused he asked her, 'What about all the other teddy's in your room, babygirl?'

He nosed at her cheek as he teased her.

Her eyes went as wide as saucers, 'Dad!' she exclaimed in a mock whisper, 'They aren't Teddy's, they all have names.'

'Yeah, Jk, how can you call them Teddy's,' Jin played along, just as scandalized at his dongsaengs choice of words.

Mouth twitching, the mole on his chin, shifting at the movement, he raised an eyebrow at his hyung, 'I'm surprised you didn't get her the RJ.'

'Now, now, I did explain the perks of having RJ, but she is Daddy's little girl.' They smiled, endeared with the toddler between them.

It was the last proper, happy outing they had, ice-cream, feeding the seagulls, playing in the sand, her best days with her father and her Uncle Jin.

----------

‘I don't care what happens to me, I don’t care about the money! Just please save my baby, please!’ Jungkook was enraged, angry at the world, helpless, desperate.

Stage 4. She was only a child, her tiny body fit in his arms, her form only half of him.

It came out of nowhere, severe bruising and bleeding when she fell down, or got cut. Trouble breathing when she ran, nausea when she ate and sometimes not wanting to eat at all. Waking up to her cries in the middle of the night, sniffling quietly, at the pains in her body.

Too many symptoms, too many blood tests later, too many restless, sleepless nights, she was diagnosed with leukemia.

There were weeks of waiting for results, test after test, of having to sit her in his lap, and explain why she needed to see countless doctors and that things would get better, that it was just for now.

But as he stood opposite her doctor, his hyung holding his shoulder, he had to go home and tell her he lied. He lied.

He'd have to tell her that there was no turning back, and if it was too late for his daughter, the love of his life, the very center of his world, for him, there would be no way forward.

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He stood at the doorway of her hospital room, having just gone home to change up and get her favorite mac and cheese. The sight he met every single time, not something he had gotten used to, despite the number of weeks he’d been at the forefront of it all.

The tubes along her face, her nose, in her arms, something a baby should never have to go through. A parent should never have to think about outliving their child. It wasn’t the cycle. It wasn’t fair.

She deserved, to hit double digits, to find love, to have him fight the need to protect her from every mistake, to always be there for her, she deserved friends, memories, the chance to discover hobbies, she deserved more time.

The saddest part was that she was too young to think of any of those things, and yet, maybe it could also be a blessing.

What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right.

Blinking back tears he plastered a fake smile on his face, the brightest one he felt he could muster. ‘Hey, babygirl.’

She looked up, a small smile, slowly making its way up her cheeks, her face pale. Opening her mouth to speak, he shook his head at her. ‘No, no, shh, baby, don’t hurt your throat.’

Making his way over to her bed, he gingerly climbed in next to her, the nurses used to his presence, the doctors having no objection considering the care he had with her as he slotted himself protectively over her.

Pecking her on the head, he took note of the scrapbook in her hand. She looked at it everyday, pictures of her six loving uncles, Taehyung plaiting her hair, Jimin showing her tiny jewelry pieces, stick-ons for her ears, Namjoon with a bunch of block letters, a tower of it clearly having collapsed around them. Her Uncle Hobi always made her smile, as he had her on his back and his neck, walked her around the apartments like he was her personal chauffeur, Yooni holding her as she slept, light music playing in the background, and her Uncle Jin, her favourite Uncle Jin, always around, choosing school bags, spoiling her with anything she wanted, anything that caught her eye, especially morning blueberry waffles and her dad, Jungkook, her dad, the youngest, the one with the most time, the most allowance to make reckless decisions, the one who adapted his whole life around her inclusion in his life.

‘Hey, remember the story of your first birthday,’ His voice exuberant at her cake covered face,’when you didn’t want to wear the red jacket Uncle Tae gave you, and you cried for his instead,’ he petted her head as he searched her face for recognition.

She pouted at the mention of it, the story recounted so many times before,’Uncle Tae’s jacket was purple, Dad. How could I not want it,’ Her cheekiness earned her a light flick to her nose.

She upturned it crossly, a little zest in her eyes at the familiar chastising.

They paused, looking at each other, before the smile slowly disappeared from her face, the reaction apparently contagious as Jungkook sat up in concern. ‘Dad,’ she started softly, her eyes trained on the blanket covering her legs, ’are you gonna forget me?’

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat at the innocent question, striving to show no reaction on his face. Moving swiftly, he worked his way around the cables and maneuvered her into his lap. They tried, he tried, and she had been so strong but even at her tender age she knew it, he knew it, the time for sugar coated words, and false hopes were over, acceptance was all that was left.

‘Close your eyes,’ he prompted, wiping tears he could no longer hold back, away from his eyes.‘Can you see me?’

‘My eyes-,’

‘No, keep them closed, can you see me,’ he reiterated, beside himself.

‘No, I can’t see you.’

‘But you can hear me right,’ taking note of her face, her nose, her cute cheeks, he waited for her answer.

‘Yes, I can hear you.’

‘Well,’ he sniffled, head falling against her forehead lightly, the contact needed, ’that’s what it will be like. I will always be here for you. I will always talk to you, and I promise,’ his hand found hers and squeezed it, ’I will never forget you. You may not see me and I may not see you, but you will always be the biggest part of me. And I promise, I will never, ever, forget you.’

He broke at his last words, pulling her into his embrace, holding his Moon, wishing with everything he had left, he would never have to let her go.

Moon passed that night, in her sleep, in his arms, as painless as it could possibly be. Knowing what was going to happen, couldn’t have prepared Jungkook for the real thing. But he knew he had to let go of her lifeless body, he knew he had to call the one person who could handle him or whatever came next for him, and as soon as he saw his Jin hyung, the one that named his perfect girl, he fell into his arms and cried, as his heart shattered into pieces.

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Standing at doorways were his thing these days, he thought, everything he did was not enough, not too much, like sitting on the fence, falling in the middle.

It had been a year, but he couldn’t clean out this room, he still woke up at 5am despite his flexible job because he had to take care of her routine, maybe someday he would have to stop coming in here, but right now, the made bed, the unused room, the stillness of it all, would remind him that even for a time, he had something beautiful, something worth all that pain, a human that he would meet someday again.

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