#he really is the most precious leader :') | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-travelling-witch · 8 months

Text

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒

summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in a magical all-boys school doesn't make it any better; luckily, your boyfriend is here to help

pairings: leona :: jade :: jamil x gn!reader

warnings: period comfort; mentions of periods and different symptoms (but gn pronouns), mentions of reader having hair in jade's part

twisted wonderland masterlist || similar writing: bloody hell [obey me]

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑

It was decidedly too early for this.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you walked through the hallways, head down to keep from making eye contact with the beastmen staring at you as you passed them. After tossing and turning all night, kept from finding sleep by painful cramps, being ogled at by students at an all boys school that could smell the blood on you was the last thing you needed.

And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to avoid this. When you had realised the predicament you would inevitably find yourself in, you had downright begged Crowley to let you stay at Ramshackle. After all, a certain Ignihyde dorm leader also never attended class in person. But, really, you should have known better. As if the headmage would let his number one therapist stay home for a few days each month or as he put it, he 'couldn’t rob a precious student like yourself of the opportunity to learn'.

At least Sam was an actual help and had magically procured just the stuff you needed.

So, with heavy eyes and burning cheeks you speed walked towards your first class of the day, dodging students at the last second on more than one occasion until you eventually ran straight into a sturdy chest. Looking up briefly to apologise, you blinked at the familiar emerald eyes sizing you up.

“Leona! What are you doing here?” Most people’s first reaction to seeing their boyfriend would probably not be bewilderment, but running into your boyfriend inside the school during class hours was as likely as Ace making it through a week without being collared by his housewarden.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was about to ask you the same thing,” the lion drawled, ears flicking to help convey the incredulousness painted on his face. “So, what do you think you’re doing?”

As imposing as he was with his athletic build and the unimpressed expression, causing the students around you to serve around the two of you, you weren’t affected at all, used to his grumpy exterior.

“Uhm, going to class?” You deadpanned, putting your hand on your hip to mirror his stance. “Unlike someone else I know.”

“Yeah, you’re not doing that,” Leona stated matter of factly.

“Excuse you?” When he tried pulling you along by your arm, away from the direction of your classroom, you dug your heels into the ground. “I hate to sound like a broken record but what are you doing, Leona?”

“Making you get some rest, obviously.” You couldn’t see it from where you stood but you could practically hear the way he rolled his eyes.

“Listen I can’t just skip class, I talked to the headmage–”

“Crowley can solve his own problems for a day,” his voice rumbled low in his throat, almost sounding like a growl, “you know, like an actual adult. And don’t try to play dumb with me herbivore, it’s not a good look on you. I know you sleep like shit when you get your period and I also know that the people around you don’t take your health into account when they get up to some stupid idea.”

“Yeah but-”

You saw the annoyed flick of his tail before he turned around and braced his hands on your shoulders without ever applying any pressure. By now the last bell had rang and the corridor was deserted, leaving you to be the only people standing in the early morning light.

“Don’t give me this self-sacrificial nonsense,” Leona said, words harsh but you knew him well enough to read the protective feeling behind them. “We both know you need to rest. What good would it really do you to go to class in this state?”

As if to agree with him, a nasty cramp pulled at your lower stomach and the ill suppressed grimace on your face must have been all too apparent to your boyfriend. Giving your arm another light tug, Leona coaxed you towards the Hall of Mirrors again with a tempting ‘C’mon’ and this time you let him pull you along willingly, even handing him your backpack when he reached out for it.

Sometimes, it was hard to forget the kind of culture Leona grew up in, one where women held a high position of power in general, so really you shouldn’t be surprised by how… normal he was about all of this. Part of that was probably also because it was a very gentlemanly excuse to skip class in favour of a nap, if you were honest.

“If you’re that worried about missing class, Jack can give you his notes.” His offhand comment made you snort. Of course, he would offer someone else’s service to you before anything else.

“Or my third-year boyfriend could tutor me,” you teased, a playful lilt swinging in your voice.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” the lion shrugged. “Weren’t you just on my case about my attendance record?”

“Because the first-year curriculum is just too hard for someone who can turn an entire stadium into dust,” you jabbed.

“You’re yapping a lot for someone who’s this tired,” Leona grumbled, a large palm pushing your head down, careful not to hurt you. With a giggle you decided to drop the topic.

Crossing the Hall of Mirrors and stepping through the Savanclaw portal, you were greeted by the warm breeze of dry air typical for the dorm’s daytime. After the trek through the savanna past the spring in the common room and across the wooden bridges, you reached Leona’s room and you could already feel the tension seep from your body as you stepped into its comfortable familiarity.

When you unbuttoned your uniform’s blazer, you caught a glimpse of your stomach through your shirt, slightly extended further than usual due to the bloating. And rationally you knew it was a normal bodily reaction to your period but paired with the new bumps on your face and general exhaustion, logic wasn’t quite enough to calm your mind.

The clothes being plopped down on your head, however, certainly did rip you from your thoughts. Lifting the ends of the black material covering your eyes you threw your boyfriend a questioning glare.

“I can tell you’re thinking something stupid,” Leona offered as an explanation. “Just get changed and come to bed.”

Huffing under your breath, you stepped into his ensuite bathroom to do as he said, pulling on your boyfriend’s shirt and sweatpants. While you didn’t feel like agreeing with him quite yet, you had to admit, royal loungewear was a league of its own in comfort. And probably in price.

When you emerged, Leona had just tossed his phone on the nightstand before devoting all his attention to you. The ears on his head flicked as his gaze wandered from your head to toe and back up, a grin tugging at his lips and an appreciative glint in his green eyes.

Then, the second you came within reach, he’d already wrapped you in his strong arms and pulled you into bed with him, not without a surprised squeal from you. You could feel his deep chuckle as much as you heard it with your head resting on his chest and resigned yourself to merely sighing fondly.

With two firm hands stroking up and down the length of your back purposefully, their warmth spreading through your body, and his chest rising rhythmically underneath you, you finally allowed yourself to relax as you traced random patterns onto his biceps and pectorals and followed the movement with heavy-lidded eyes.

“You weren’t seriously looking down on yourself earlier, were you?” Leona mumbled, a serious care in his words he didn’t offer many people.

“Well, you can’t really help it when your body goes through this many changes, can you?” you drowsily replied, your eyes already falling closed with no conscious work of your own. “Besides, periods are not the time you feel generally great about yourself.”

“No matter how you might see yourself, I don’t want you to doubt for even a second that I like you the way you are.” At his heartfelt confession, you peeked one eye open to study his expression.

“You can be quite the romantic if you want to huh?” You meekly chuckled, not able to help yourself.

“Go to sleep, herbivore, you’re talking crazy.” Even as he put one of his hands on the back of your head to keep you cradled against him, you didn’t miss how his ears flicked or the fondness with which he looked down on you.

“Alright, alright. I appreciate it though, really.” With a big yawn you shifted to get comfortable, your cramps far from your mind as you sunk into your boyfriend’s natural warmth. “Love you.”

By the time you’d wake up, Ruggie would have dropped off lunch along with some other essential items. But for now, Leona was content to watch as your breath evened out and your chest rose and fell in the rhythm of his own, careful not to disturb you when he draped a soft blanket over you. With the rising sun peeking through the arches of his room, he truthfully answered you in a whisper.

“Love you, too.”

𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇

Once Jade had taken an interest in you, he would seemingly appear out of thin air in your general vicinity a lot more often than it was usual to run into a fellow student. On your way to the school store, in line at the cafeteria or when you were carrying supplies for Professor Crewel, the moray would coincidentally round a corner to lend a hand.

So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that, as his courting became more serious and you had become aware of what was going on, even reciprocating the sentiment, you found the sophomore waiting for you before your classes started. Your time table was well-memorised so he could greet you with a serene smile each day and walk you to your first class of the morning.

Now, as a moray eel with naturally sharp senses, it was somewhat inevitable he’d pick up on the scent of blood once your period rolled around. In contrast to beastmen who were mostly mammals in their anatomy, however, the Octatrio did not grow up on land and periods weren’t exactly a thing for merfolk. Moreover, seeing as they had only been on land for roughly two years and were attending an all-boys school, it was not a phenomenon they were likely to run into.

So, having his dear pearl approach one morning, the smell of iron heavy in the air, paired with their already soured mood and his lack of knowledge on the societal stigma around the topic, misunderstandings were bound to happen.

“I really don’t think it wise to attend class in your state,” the moray had stated after greeting you, an eyebrow raised at your stubbornness to continue with your day even at what, in his mind, must have been a grave injury.

“I’m fine, Jade, I just want to get this day over with,” you had groaned, trying to push past the tall student and drop the topic, embarrassed enough that a sizable chunk of the student body would be aware of your predicament in the first place.

But who would he be to let a person he actually cared about go on their way with a bleeding wound?

“Prefect, I must insist you seek medical aid immediately.” You remembered the uncharacteristically genuine furrow of his brows as he had blocked your path. “Please, go to the school nurse or at least let me tend to your needs. I’m certain I could be of help if you share your problem with me.”

“If you want to hear me say it so desperately,” you had huffed, “I’m on my period. Happy now?”

“Your period?” Jade had echoed with wide eyes, unknowingly speeding up the burning of your shortened fuse with his lack of knowledge. “Yes, I’m aware we are to attend class but I fail to see–”

“Very funny,” you had deadpanned, pushing past him with a cold shoulder and leaving the moray to his own confusion. “Now if you excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and humour your feigned ignorance today.”

Yes it wasn’t your proudest moment, you’d admit that. And when Jade approached you later that day with a genuine apology, explaining how he had researched the topic and was deeply ashamed of his uninformed remarks, you felt like the worst person on the planet and apologised more than he had. So in the end, you came to an apology truce, where you noted he shouldn’t have prodded further when you didn’t want to talk about it and you shouldn’t have exploded on him like you did.

Since the incident, however, Jade had been a dream to have around. Not to fall short again, he had done a fair amount of research, both on the biological aspect of what was happening to your body but also on the lived experience and its numerous complications. Then, doing what he did best, he observed your reactions, moods and symptoms to better cater to you specifically.

Every month he put both his cooking and alchemy skills to good use, whipping up whatever meal you desired and brewing a painkilling potion with just the right dosage for your current situation. Being Jade Leech, he could also assert his presence in any given situation with as little as a simple glare if you did not want to be bothered.

Your favourite part of the comfortable rhythm you two had fallen in, however, were the evenings where Grim was otherwise engaged and you had Ramshackle to yourselves. On those nights, soft music and fond laughter would mix with hushed whispers spilling from under your bathroom door.

A few months prior, Azul and Jade had sat down for a ‘pleasant chat’ with the Headmaster concerning the state of Ramshackle dorm and soon thereafter, funding had been provided to remodel vital parts of the dorm. No more caved-in roofs or stairs giving away under people’s shoes. Together with the money from the VDC, the old house had finally started feeling like an actual home; one you felt welcome and comfortable in.

It also meant you finally trusted your new bathtub enough to sit in it and actually also relax without any anxieties of whatever you could possibly contract from the exposure.

With his natural fondness of water, it hadn’t taken long for Jade to propose the idea of shared baths and you hadn’t regretted your decision to agree since. It wasn’t like he gave you any reason to either; it was the opposite, really. It didn’t take the moray long at all to figure out the perfect temperature or what fragrance you preferred, if any.

He also never made you feel inadequate or like you had to be ashamed of yourself, even when your body went through change throughout your cycle. Your skin tingled from his featherlight touches where his fingers traced your curves, never hiding the fact that he appreciated what he saw but always pairing it with a reverence that made you feel loved and desired, rather than ogled at. So when you sank into the water after him, cosying into his space to lean back against his chest, it was like sinking into a warm, secure embrace.

The water helped soothe your aches and washed away the tension which had built over the day and the easily flowing conversation with Jade let you focus on anything other than the thoughts in your mind, listening to his rich voice rather than the doubts trying to crawl to the surface.

When his hands massaged the shampoo into your hair, you always teetered on the edge of falling asleep right then and there. The atmosphere paired with his skilled fingers applying just the right amount of pressure as his nails gently scraped over your scalp banished any headaches you could have had and had you practically melting against him, a sight that tugged on his heartstrings more than it should have. But to see you put so much trust in him, someone who wasn’t exactly known for his benevolence, it stirred something fond in his heart and it made him want to work harder so you would keep showing him this blissful expression.

After scrubbing your bodies down, paying special attention to any sore spots, he helped you out of the tub, never failing to comment on how wrinkly your hands had gotten in comparison to his, which didn’t seem to be affected by the water exposure at all. Wrapping you up in a fluffy black towel he claimed was from Octavinelle -though you were fairly certain you’d only ever seen pale lilac ones there- he padded you dry and helped you into your clothes, mindful of the routines and products you had shown him previously.

Needless to say, you felt like a new person each time without fail as you lay snuggled up with your boyfriend in bed later on, listening to his breathing and the steady beating of his heart.

“Thank you so much for always doing this much for me, Jade,” you said, earnest gratitude and unspoken adoration lining your voice. “I’m really lucky to be with you, huh?”

“On the contrary, I am the one luck seems to favour seeing how you chose to be with me,” he chuckled and you didn’t miss how his strong arms pulled you closer against him even if it wasn’t physically possible. He’d be damned if he didn’t try. “And you needn’t feel conflicted about receiving my affection. Just know I enjoy doing these things for you and with you, pearl.”

“I stand by my earlier statement,” you smiled, making him laugh along with you. Looking into his heterochromic eyes, you traced the contours of his face with the same delicacy he showed you earlier. “Is it selfish to say that I feel happy about having this side of you all to myself?”

“Not at all. It is reserved for you only, dearest.” His gaze was heavy on yours as he loosely curled his fingers around your wrist and pressed a searing kiss against your palm. “After all, I do not intend to share this side of you with anyone else either.”

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑

There have certainly been times where Jamil lamented having to basically babysit his dorm leader. Well, pretty much all the time. But being unable to stay by your side while you were hurting was generally one of the most annoying parts of his duties to him, especially with the daily workload of being a student on top of it all.

Jamil being Jamil, however, he soon worked out a schedule consistent enough to let him visit you somewhat frequently.

You were lying on one of Ramshackle’s rickety couches, nursing your lower stomach with a -at this point already lukewarm- water bottle, when a familiar knocking pattern brought a smile to your face.

“Come in! It’s open,” you shouted across the hall, adding your sarcastic comment under your breath in order not to worry your boyfriend more than he already was. “Not like the lock’s ever doing its job in this place.”

“Hm? Did you say something?” Jamil made his way straight over to where you were sitting, his footsteps quieting down as he reached the carpeted floor.

“No,” you shook your head, smiling up at him as he leant over the back of the couch. Ignoring his raised eyebrow, you reached up, so you could cradle his cheek as you sat up to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Seemingly appeased, your boyfriend mirrored your fond expression, tracing your face with his grey gaze while his hands moved to your shoulders, deft fingers working out any tension you might be having. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better now that you’re here,” you laughed, though it wasn’t merely a sappy joke, as indicated by Jamil’s scoff behind you. “I mean it though. I’ve been feeling a lot better since I’ve been receiving your royal treatment.”

“It’s nothing that fancy,” Jamil assured, his eyes softening at the way you melted into his touch. “I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“I know you don’t think much of it but I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to look after me when I’m not even facing anything out of the ordinary,” you sighed, rehashing points you had raised in vain before.

“Oh hush,” your boyfriend playfully shushed you the way he had also done many times already when the topic came up. “Compared to what I usually deal with, this is like taking a vacation, especially since I get to spend time with you. Now speaking of my normal chores, I brought some leftover food.”

“Have I told you that I love you?” You swooned, causing both of you to laugh as Jamil headed over to your kitchen, one he was already familiar with. Not only because he often came over for some much needed peace and quiet but because Kalim was literally the reason you had it in the first place. A relationship-warming-gift of sorts for a relationship that wasn’t even his.

Besides, ever since courting and dating you, Jamil’s measuring skills when it came to meal prep seemed to have worsened because -coincidentally- he’d ended up with too much food and subsequent leftovers so often, you wondered why you even stocked your own fridge anymore.

What you had also noticed though was that, whenever you were on your period -something he seemed to track himself-, the food he brought over was a lot less spicy than usual and rather light. Something someone prone to a sensitive stomach, nausea, reduced appetite or a disturbed metabolism could still comfortably eat.

The phenomenon of suddenly appearing sticky notes had also made itself known, labelling new containers in your fridge, medication on the counter or your coffee machine with reminders like ‘Remember caffeine makes your cramps worse’ written on it in neat handwriting.

One or the other bar of dark chocolate and some of your favourite snacks had mysteriously found their way into your bags or onto a bowl in your kitchen as well though, making you smile at Jamil’s thoughtfulness when you caught a peek of them.

During the day, whenever his schedule allowed it, he’d also drop by to check in on you between classes or during lunch, something Kalim wholeheartedly supported. Normally, Jamil refused all of Kalim’s offers to take a break from his duty but when you were feeling under the weather, he took the white-haired student up on it when no imminent disaster was on the horizon waiting to happen.

When your plate was empty and made its trip to the sink, Jamil refilled your hot water bottle but unlike you earlier, he waved his magic pen over it, which you had realised significantly expanded the time in which the water actually stayed hot.

“Thank you,” you said for possibly the millionth time as you took the bottle from him, then gave him a mischievous grin. “You know what would make me feel soo much better though?”

At the tilt of his head, you scooted over to make space between you and the back of the couch. Getting the hint, Jamil settled in behind you and you got comfy again with your back to his chest. This too had become somewhat of a ritual of yours, one that wasn’t limited to while you were suffering from cramps.

After all the chore-y part of the late afternoon was taken care of, you liked to spend the evening snuggled up on your couch with the TV playing some show you liked to watch together, read: a show which you started and dragged Jamil into. Well, every now and then your boyfriend also made sure you didn’t fall behind on your studies, though he was more lenient when you were on your period.

“This is nice,” you mumbled, your eyelids heavy now that you had eaten and were surrounded by warmth and your loving boyfriend, whose hands stroked along your sides in a soothing, continuous motion, his chest vibrating underneath you with his affirming hum.

“I could stay like that forever,” he agreed.

“Well I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” The smile in his voice was auditory even if you couldn’t see his gorgeous face. You could, however, feel his soft lips on the crown of your head and his breath fanning over it and you reached to intertwine one of your hands with his before a yawn you couldn’t suppress any longer filled the air. “You should get some rest, I’m sure you’re tired.”

“But I wanna stay with you longer,” you protested, sleep clouding your tone.

“Don’t worry, I will be here when you wake up,” Jamil promised. And with that you drifted off, the warmth from around you settling cosily around your heart. A heart that wasn’t really yours alone anymore.

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#twisted wonderland #x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland comfort #twst comfort #twisted wonderland fluff #twst fluff #leona x reader #leona fluff #leona kingscholar #jade x reader #jade fluff #jade leech #jamil x reader #jamil fluff #jamil viper #disney twisted wonderland

2K notes · View notes

gghostwriter · 2 months

Note

hi dear author! how are you?

I have a request for Spencer where reader has a head injury and passes out and Spencer's reaction to it and the aftermath. I found your fic around 15 mins ago and I'm in love with them<3

Thank you!!

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: I’m sensing a pattern with the request writing I’m doing—most of them deal with a head injury of some sort but I am having fun trying to make it different the the earlier works. No further editing was done but I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist

Bundle of Nerves. // Spencer Reid

The bright and playful disposition of your kindergarten students was one of things you looked forward to every Monday. How each student would go up to you to chatter about how their weekend went—family went to the park or to the library or to the beach—and how in return, they’ll ask if you also enjoyed the weekend as much as they did.

But something seemed off today, you really couldn’t specify where it all started. Maybe it was you falling back to sleep after your alarm went off, or maybe it was you missing breakfast, or maybe it was just all of the above.

Either way, everything was going sideways and it was just about to get worse. The lights seemed darker, the children’s voices were distorted, and the room was starting to sway. Feeling the need to sit down, you were only able to take a couple of steps to your desk before promptly fainting—smacking your forehead on the floor and the children screaming for help.

———

Spencer wasn’t one to wish for a case to land on JJ’s desk but at 1:30pm on a Monday, he found himself twiddling his thumbs and calculating his rocket launches using his expansive brain capacity—all paper filings done and submitted early. He swiveled to face Morgan who was caught red handed about to throw a paper clip in his direction.

“Hey Kid,” he cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalantly. “You done with your paperwork?”

“Yeah, now I’m thinking of how to improve my rocket magic. Hey do you think if I add more—”

The vibration of his phone on the table interrupted his sentence. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in the unregistered number. Curious but definitely wary, he pressed ‘accept’.

“Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Who is this?”

A female voice answered. “Hi Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m calling from Virginia State Hospital. Y/N had you listed down as her emergency contact. She was admitted—”

The remaining information all sounded muffled. His breathing was spiking up and all he could hear now was the rapid staccato beating of his heart. He couldn’t think straight. Is this what unknowing family members of victims feel when they receive a distress call? Like the rug was pulled under their feet? He couldn’t comprehend what to do, how to—

“Dr. Reid, are you still there?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes—yes, I’ll be there soon.”

Before the voice could say another word, he ended the call, was out of his desk, and up the steps to his unit chief’s office, SSA Aaron Hotchner.

“Reid, what is it?” the stern BAU leader clocking in the distress painted on the genius’ face.

“I-it’s Y/N. She was admitted at hospital and—”

He nodded. “Go, Reid. I’ll explain to the team and HR.”

With a quick ‘thank you’, he ducked out of the bullpen to the elevator, grateful that he opted to drive to Quantico today rather than take his usual train route.

Maybe he should have borrowed the government owned SUV instead, he thought to himself when he turned to the main road and saw the congestion. Hotch would have understood, he just wasn’t sure how to explain that in paperwork but this counted as an emergency, right? It felt like a life or death situation to him—for him and for you.

When he exited the bottleneck traffic, Spencer wanted to floor the gas. His foot itched to stomp on the accelerator and worry about the fines later. But the idea of getting caught, being pulled over, and wasting more precious seconds away from your side was enough for him to second guess it—that and his tight white knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

He should have asked for more information over the phone call but the second his mind registered the words, it went to overdrive and out of the window—his emotions were running high and clouding every logical thought possible. He had an IQ of 187 but all he could think of was you. You, the love of his life. You, his fiancee, lying down on a hospital bed, alone and unconscious. Any man, no matter how smart they are, would react the same way he did when it involves a loved one.

He parked his car at the first slot he could find in the hospital parking lot and ran straight to the reception.

“I’m looking for Y/N. She was admitted a while ago. I-I’m her fiancee.” Spencer hurriedly introduced himself.

The nurse nodded once, stating your floor and room number. Without so much as an acknowledgement, he ran to the nearest elevator and willed it to open any faster.

Spencer felt like he ran a marathon by the time he found your room and seeing you there, lying on your bed—conscious, thank god—took a little weight off his chest. He breathed out your name in relief. “What happened? Did you—did you hit your head?”

Your hand gingerly touched the bandage on your forehead. “I think so. I started to feel faint so I was walking back to my chair. I must have hit my head on my way down—”

He took your hands into his, kissing it. “You had me so worried. Did the doctor say anything? Diagnosis? Cause? Treatment?”

“No. When I came to, only a nurse was here. She left to page the doctor but it’s okay—I feel fine now.”

Spencer opened his mouth, no doubt to chide you about minimizing your pain and health, but then the doctor walked in with a clipboard on hand.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Smith. How are we feeling?”

“She said she was feeling faint before she hit her head. Does she have a concussion? Why did she feel faint—was it stress? Hypoglycemia? Labyrinthitis? Vertebrobasilar insufficiency?” Spencer rattled off.

“Well, your husband sure knows medical terminology. Are you a Doctor too?” the physician asked.

Spencer’s brows met in between, finding the whole interaction off-putting. Here he was about to have a nervous breakdown and your doctor was as calm as a cucumber. “Fiancee, actually, and yes Doctor, 3 Phds not MD.”

“Impressive, and to answer your questions, Doc. None of the above.”

His eyes widened. “Then it could be hypo—”

Dr. Smith smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that either.” He reached into his clipboard, removing a prescription pad, and quickly jotting down medicine. “Here you go. She’ll need to take a capsule a day and I suggest a healthy balanced meal, exercise, and plenty of bed rest.”

Spencer’s eyes widened when he realized what the chicken scratch handwriting said.

“What—what is it?” You asked in worry as Spencer seemed to have glitched.

The doctor grinned at you.“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”

Silence.

“I-I’m what?!”

The doctor chuckled. “You’re 3 weeks along so you’re still in the early stages. Your body is still adjusting—the fainting spell was caused by change in your hormones and low blood pressure. I suggest you schedule an appointment with your OB/GYN as soon as possible and get ample rest—” he looked at the couple once more before exiting the room. “—congratulations, again.”

The tears that started to gather in your eyes seemed to bring Spencer back to life. “Oh love, are those—are those happy tears or—?”

You nodded. “Happy tears, Spence. I can’t believe it!”

He reached out to hug you to his chest. “I love you, Y/N. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

You giggled. “I guess we have to tell your team about the baby genius on board, huh?”

He laughed, remembering how Emily once asked him if he ever planned on having one and here he was about to become a father.

You gasp, causing him to lean back and look at you with worry—did he hug you too tight? Did you feel—

“I’m not going to fit in my wedding dress by then! Penny will have a fit! She had this vision and—”

He leaned down to interrupt your ramblings.

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you, especially if you're turning her into an aunt.”

You smiled, peering through your eyelashes. “Y’know we might have to find a new apartment soon. Just imagining how much shopping Penny would do for our baby genius even before he or she is born is making me shudder.”

He laughed. “Me too, love. Me too.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #gw fics #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #pau’s request inbox

707 notes · View notes

skybluelatte · 2 years

Text

Happy Birthday Chan!!!💛🐺💛

#bang chan #stray kids #skz #leader #3racha #the most precious man ever #he really deserves all the love #our hardworking talented humble leader #much love #HappyBangChanDay #ABCD_AceBangChanDay #BangChanrizardDay #100322

0 notes

bitterchocoo · 4 months

Text

Golden Hour

Jing Yuan | M. Reader

----------

Reincarnation AU

----------

There's a particular painting inside the Luofu Museum. It's a painting of the former General, they say that the General never smiles and always has a blank expression. That painting is the most precious and one of a kind in the whole world...

Why?

Because it's the only time...

Where the General finally smiles...

----------

"Huh... "Wise and Brave; Jing Yuan." Hey, wouldn't it be funny if he's actually you from the past?"

"Nonsense, we just have the same name."

[Name] turn his head towards the white haired man with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah.. Sure.. But you do have the same smile as him." He said as he look back at the painting in front of them.

The General in the painting looks almost identical to the man standing beside him down to the same smile. Then again, [Name] couldn't imagine Jing Yuan being all stoic like, a smile fits him better. "You know... They say that the General had fallen in love with the Strategist in the Xianzhou, some even say that the Strategist was the reason why he started smiling."

"Really?"

"It's just a myth though, don't know if it's true."

Jing Yuan chuckles at that statement, after all myths are just myths, there's no telling if it's real or not. It's probably fake, people usually make up things just to satisfy their own fantasies, but something in him tells him otherwise.

That maybe, just maybe... It's the truth.

"ARE YOU INSANE?!"

"It's the most optimal solution, General."

"BY SACRIFICING MY MEN!?"

"Losing a handful of soldiers are better than losing civilians, plus—isn't it their duty to give their live for the people and die in battle?"

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT WITH SUCH A CALM VOICE?!" The General huffs as he glared daggers at the man in front of him, the man who proposed the very strategy that practically sacrifices his men "for the greater good." Jing Yuan always wonder how this man is able to be the Strategist of the Xianzhou...

A man who stood to benefit from betraying others... It's not proven or anything and yet...

Jing Yuan is certain that he'd turn against the Reignbow Arbiter in a heartbeat...

There's isn't a sane bone in his body.

The other man sigh at Jing Yuan's response as he crosses his arms and spoke up with his usual calm yet firm voice. "And here I thought you'd be more reasonable, given that you're the General."

"The leader of an organization is at the pinnacle of it and, at the same time, he is its slave. The leader must be more than willing to commit any atrocity in order to ensure the organisation's survival."

He hates it.... He hates this man so much...

How could he talk about that so casually? As if these men... Were just mere pawns to him... After all sacrificing a few pawns means relatively little if it means your King's safety.

'He's not thinking about the people.. He's thinking about the Xianzhou Loufu's survival instead...'

"They were right about you... You're a wolf in sheep's clothing..." He started as he continues to glare daggers at the man. The man only gave him an unamused look as he asked in a calm voice. "And why would you think that?" Jing Yuan scoffed at the question as he crosses his arms. "Talking to you is impossible."

"But in all honesty, give my strategy some thought, General."

"There's nothing left to think regarding that. I want you to change it this instant."

The man sigh at the order he was given, he uncrossed his arms and took back the papers from the General's desk. "As you wish."

And with that... The man left his office.

Jing Yuan sigh as he put a hand on his forehead and look down at his wooden desk. "I can't believe that man... [Name] was it..?" He mumbled under his breath.

'It's as if a life meant relatively little to him.'

"I never knew you could be a skilled doctor.."

"I was the Head Physician before becoming your strategist, General."

"..."

The two fall silent as [Name] bandaged the general's wounds. It seems even the "Mighty General of the Loufu" can get hurt. How fascinating. Once he's done, [Name] lets out a sigh and puts back the supplies he had used. "I suggest you shouldn't go to any missions at the moment. Let your wounds heal."

Jing Yuan remains silent as he inspects his carefully treated wounds. The bandages aren't too tight, and his body isn't as sore anymore. [Name] might be a sociopath with the types of strategies he comes up with. But he's a wonderful physician. Maybe he should stay as one.

"Can't have you start bleeding out in the middle of a fight after all. Unless you wanted me to operate on you then go ahead."

Jing Yuan can't help but sigh at those words. Of course the doctor has to open his mouth and end it on that note... even if he's good, [Name]'s still a sociopath though..

"...Understood."

"Good."

The crowd was silent as they watched the starskiff flies to through the sky. Reaching greater heights. "Another sent of.." The doctor mumbled under his breath.

"Sad, isn't it?"

"Not really."

Oh you sociopath! Jing Yuan snapped his head towards him. He was about to argue until he saw a soft smile on the doctor's face. A soft. Melancholy. Smile.

"It's not sad. It's poetic." [Name] says softly as he watches the starskiff. "In a way, if you're at a loss, you could look up at the sky and.... remember that they're watching over you.. and there's nothing to be afraid of.." Turning his head towards the general, [Name] gave him a closed eye smile as his hair got caught in the wind. "It's almost romantic, is it not?"

Jing Yuan felt a strange and warm feeling on his chest. Without thinking, he returns the smile with his own. "If you put it that way.. it is kinda poetic.."

----------

"Well... I heard that the Strategist is far more worse than the General." Jing Yuan spoke up, making [Name] turn his head to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Really?" He asked as he crosses his arms, waiting for am explanation. "Yup, they say that the Strategist is a sociopath. I've also heard that the General was the reason the Strategist began to have a "heart". " Jing Yuan concluded with a smirk on his face.

[Name] can't help but chuckle at those words. For some reason.. he had a feeling it was true..

#seme male reader #top male reader #hsr #hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x male reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x male reader #x male reader #x reader

416 notes · View notes

slytherinshua · 6 months

Text

MY FAVOURITE

genre. fluff. hurt/comfort. warnings. jaehyun had a stressful day and cries a bit. pairing. jaehyun x fem!reader. wc. 857. request. requested by 🐧 anon: thoughts about jaehyun returning home to y/n after a stressful day and switching from leader mode to baby mode a/n. jaehyun being a crybaby is just so :( like i love him i adore him as a cry baby myself 🥹 like idk i just cry over everything any slightly stressful situation will have the tears forming its not even funny >:( jaehyun looks so squishable and tiny when he cries like 😭😭😭 he needs to be protected from the world.

“No. I told you we needed another 2 days for choreography lessons. The boys will be stressed if they have to learn it all by tomorrow. There’s still so many details we need to review.” Your boyfriend had barely walked through the door before he got a call from his manager and started talking. He sounded extremely stressed— not something you were usually used to from soft clingy Jaehyun you had around most days.

Whether it was charismatic performances on stage or detailed plans and decision-making offstage, your boyfriend excelled in both areas. But it was tiring. He could switch on and off as quickly and easily as he needed to, which was extremely helpful in keeping his stress at a low. Relaxing and recharging was just as important as working, and he knew that he needed a balance to keep going.

Today had been long and heavy on the work non-stop part of his life that Jaehyun both loved and hated. It was all worth it— always— but some days he really wished he didn’t have to leave so early in the morning and come home so late at night. Some days he wished he could just cuddle with you until he actually wanted to get up and that he was able to get back to you in time for dinner.

It was much past dinner time by now, already nearing midnight. Though your boyfriend’s voice sounded just like usual, professional, bright, and confident, you could tell with one glance at his face that he was so so tired. Eye bags and furrowed eyebrows framed his face, and he ran a stressed hand through his black hair, letting it stay and grip at the strands a bit too long for your liking.

The phone call ended quickly, thankfully. Jaehyun turned to you and you could just see him soften and relax completely. You closed the distance between you two so he didn’t have to, knowing your boyfriend and his love for hugs. He sunk into the hug immediately, holding you so so tightly. You frowned at how he was barely supporting his own body weight, so exhausted that he physically couldn’t do much other than cling to you.

You wanted to move to the couch in case he ended up toppling you both over with any extra weight he put in the hug. But you couldn’t do it without breaking the hug and Jaehyun looked like he would cry if that happened.

Not that he hadn’t started crying a little already. You could feel his body rack silently as he tugged at the back of your sweater, breathing in the scent of your shampoo with each uneven breath. You rubbed his back slowly up and down, soothingly waiting until he had calmed down enough to get ready for bed.

“It’s okay, let it all out, baby. I know it was an exhausting day. But you know I’m proud of you, right?” You murmured, pressing little kisses to his temple as you spoke. He started crying a little harder at your words, but you didn’t mind at all. You were glad you were someone he trusted enough to be completely vulnerable with. He didn’t hold back his tears, sobbing into your shoulder until the tears slowly stopped. You pulled back once you felt that he could hold himself up again with a clearer head.

“Not even the sky can be sunny all the time.” You smiled at his precious face, reaching out to swipe a thumb on his cheek to wipe away the tear stains. His nose was red and a little runny, and his eyes were a bit swollen. He looked so precious and small, and your heart broke just seeing him cry.

After a few more hugs and a couple of kisses for motivation, you got him to shower and get into his pyjamas to cuddle up with you and finally sleep. Jaehyun loved to be the little spoon more than anything, all wrapped up close to you, feeling so comfortable and secure like nothing could ever touch him. You played with his hair and pressed continuous kisses to his face— you loved to spoil your baby with as much affection as he deserved, and he loved to receive it after a long day.

“It’s my favourite thing…” He mumbled quietly, snuggling closer into your chest.

“What is?” You traced a finger around his nose and cheekbone, pressing a kiss to the spot right after.

“This. And you. You’re my favourite.” He replied, smiling a little, about half asleep already.

“Really?” You smiled fondly at him as he nodded. “I’m honoured to be your favourite. You’re my favourite too.”

“Really…?” He was so sleepy, and his words came out whispered, but you found it all the more endearing.

“Yes, really.”

With the last bit of energy Jaehyun had before sleep caught hold of him, he reached for your hand that was playing with his hair and brought it down to his lips, pressing a feather-light kiss to your fingers. Before you could respond or return the favour, he was already sound asleep in your hold.

↳ boynextdoor taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,

@schmocolateschmchip,, @kpoprhia,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @cyberpunksunwoo,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @snowflakemoon3,, @lovialy,, @lecheugo,, @okshu,,

@wccycc,, @seunghancore

673 notes · View notes

cheeseceli · 1 year

Text

Sides of SKZ they only show around their s/o

Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff and maybe a little bit of angst

A/n: idk if that makes sense and I'm sorry if it happens to be repetitive but ! I liked to write it so yeah. As always, not proofread

Bang Chan - He's Reckless

Being the eldest sibling, eldest member and the leader of stray kids, Chan became pretty much a parental figure for many. He's always looking out for everybody, making sure everything is okay and dealing with any problem. Don't get him wrong, he loves his job and the people in his life, but sometimes it's exhausting to take care of everything. When he met you though, everything changed. He feels that he can let go. He can be reckless and ask for attention some times. Because, for once, there's someone taking care of him.

Lee Know - He's scared

Usually, he is a confident and even cocky guy. With you though, he is scared. Scared that he might lose you. Scared that his job or personality might scare you. Scared that someone out there is better than him and you'd soon find out. He can't bear to lose you, he doesn't want to imagine a life without you in it. So he'll fight each one of his fears if that means you'll be with him till the very end.

Changbin - He doesn't care

I feel like he always wants to give people the right impression. He wants to say the right thing, behave the right way and hope people will be always satisfied. But suddenly he doesn't care that much anymore. Because he already managed to impress you and you're more than satisfied. Above all of that, you love him. People's opinions are not that important after all.

Hyunjin - He's aware

Always an artist, he knew how to appreciate the beauty in the world since a young age. But since he fell for you every moment seems like an epiphany. The autumn leaves are beautiful, falling with grace. The old lady talking to a kid brings tears to his eyes for an unknown reason. He realises how the breeze is refreshing and how he loves you dearly. He thinks for a second that maybe you're the one who brought life to this world, and he is so happy that he can see all this beauty when he's with you.

Han - He doesn't think

Most of the time, he's too self conscious about his actions and his words, like he needs to be super cautious with everything. Self doubt and overthinking is part of his routine at this point, except when you're with him. You're his safe place. Whenever you're with him, he just does or says whatever he thinks and is never scared you'll judge him, because he knows you never would.

Felix - He's protective

He has a kind nature. He usually doesn't look up for confrontation and is always gentle. But then you came to his life as the most precious treasure he ever saw and now he wants to protect it. Because you're the light of his life and he'll fight anything and anyone if that means you'll be safe. He would happily be your knight in a shining armour if you asked him.

Seungmin - He's vulnerable

Most people only see his "mean" personality or how he doesn't show a lot of affection towards others. We all know he actually is really caring but when it comes to you he's also vulnerable. He doesn't care if one can perceive him as "weak", and he's not scared of oversharing by accident. When he's with you, he's made of glass, but he doesn't mind as he knows you'd never break him.

I.N - He's perfeccionist

You're the best thing to ever happen to him and he is aware of that. He wants to give his all to you and he wants you to be treated like royalty. So he is always trying his best to make sure you're treated like one. He always wants everything to be perfect, because he believes that perfect is still so little compared to what you truly deserve.

Feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

2K notes · View notes

imagine-darksiders · 2 months

Text

Transformers Prime: Optimus X Reader. Chapter 2.

The Letdown.

Part 1

Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family, Optimus is a big, overprotective worry-wort with a soft spot for humans, Reader has more issues than Vogue.

Let me know if you'd be interested in a part 3 :]

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

Optimus has always been an honest mech. Even before he was bestowed with the Matrix of Leadership, Orion-wet-behind-the-audials-Pax was about as good at carrying a lie as Miko is at keeping herself out of trouble.

Not much changed after Orion became a Prime.

Deception never came easily to him. Frank and truthful in all he does, there are times when even the principled leader of the Autobots has to concede that sometimes, deceit is a regrettable, but unavoidable necessity.

That doesn’t mean he’s grown better at it though.

Lying, in any capacity, makes the stoic and unflinching mech feel as if his glossa has been dipped in a coat of lead. To his own audial receptors, the insubstantial white-lie he’d coaxed you with sounded clumsy, even stilted – just two more things unbefitting of a Prime.

The Matrix had bucked inside his chassis when he fabricated the story that convinced you to accept his assistance. It had, however, quickly settled down after Optimus reminded himself that this was a lie borne from the best of intentions.

He may be the most fastidious in following his own self-set rule to remain incognito on Earth, but even a stickler like him could hardly ignore a human in need.

And you were in need, he reflects as he tentatively adjusts his rear-view mirror, angling it towards your face as surreptitiously as he can.

The memory of your desolate, beaten expression is bruised right into the forefront of his processor, where it’s sure to remain for some time to come. Bathed in the dim glow of his headlights, you’d stared up at his grill with the same frightened trepidity of a doe peering down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. You’d approached his open door with such caution, your tiny yet vital pulse rabbiting inside the veins and vessels that pump precious blood through your fragile, little body.

You were afraid of him, and it would be remiss of the great Prime to deny that the realisation had plucked at a tender node running through his spark-chamber.

It felt like a rejection.

‘Really, Optimus?’ He can almost hear Arcee’s cool, bemused ribbing now. ‘One human doesn’t like you, and suddenly your self-esteem takes a hit?’

She’d be right to tease him, of course. A Prime ought to be above such concerns.

Yet still…

A human had needed help, and Optimus’s very presence – once described as a comfort by Jack when the boy thought he couldn’t hear – was enough to almost instil a fear in you so profound, you’d have sooner braved the cold emptiness of a desert and your own exhaustion than accept his aid.

Optimus eases his engine to a constant, steady hum as he drives down Highway 49, his weary passenger secured inside his alt mode. Distantly, he notes how some of his custodial protocols have settled back to lay dormant amongst his codes once again, the same protocols that rear their heads like spitting cobras whenever he sees one of the children in danger.

But for now, there is no danger, and so, contented, the Prime allows himself to cruise at a lax pace towards the distant, twinkling lights appearing on the dark horizon.

Jasper.

You mentioned that your journey ends at the dairy pastures out towards the East of town, where well-watered fields of grass are nestled beneath the shadows cast by enormous, twisting rock spires.

But why are you heading there in the first place?

The silence inside his cab starts to grow stifling. And although the quiet doesn’t bother him in the least, Optimus is conscious of your bouncing leg, and the small, quivering fingers kneading anxiously around the straps of the bag you’ve yet to remove.

It doesn’t look heavy… The note you left on the window of your truck claimed that the vehicle is all you have, and he has no doubt that what little else you might call yours is tucked safely within the leather rucksack that’s currently pinned between your spine and Optimus’s seat.

It may not look heavy, but neither does it look particularly comfortable.

Beneath the shell of armour and metal parts concealing his face, Optimus feels his brow plates twitch in their attempt to furrow gently towards one another.

“Perhaps you’d-“ he starts, only to hurriedly cut the feedback to his voice box when you promptly go rigid against his seat, your drooping, crimson-tinted eyes flying open to roll around his cabin like a spooked equine mammal. “My apologies,” he amends contritely, letting his voice drop to such an unobtrusive pitch, it almost mingles with the purr of his engine, “I only meant to tell you, there is ample room in the footwell for your belongings…”

Leaving an indicative silence in his wake, Optimus regards you curiously as you tighten your grip on the tattered, leather straps slung over your shoulders, though your gaze does flick down to survey the space around your shoes.

You may have traded your name for his, but it’s clear you’re still wound up tighter than a coiled spring.

“Oh,” you eventually murmur, and he’s pleased to see your white-knuckle grasp go slack.

As you begin to slowly slide the bag from your shoulders, every movement stiff and uncertain, Optimus nonetheless lets out an approving hum and returns his senses to the road ahead, though his focus remains almost entirely on the soft speck of warmth shifting around in his passenger seat.

Not for the first time, Optimus is struck by how much larger cybertronians are than humans. Even when you lean forwards and lower your rucksack down towards his footwell, his sensors barely register your presence.

At least your weight is more substantial than Rafael’s, he muses.

Once, during a rare but pleasant occurrence in which he was the only bot available to shuttle their tiniest member from school to the Base, Optimus had tried – and failed – to refrain from checking that the boy was still safely strapped in his passenger seat every ten nanoclicks.

Giving his engine a rev to shake himself from the memory, Optimus speaks again, mindful to keep his volume low this time. “May I ask you something, Y/n?”

He watches as you finally relinquish your hold on the bag, letting it drop with the utmost care into the space by your feet. “Of course,” you say genially, turning less and less guarded as the warmth of his cab envelopes you, beckoning you towards a much-needed rest.

“What brings you to Jasper?”

Small talk is hardly Optimus’s forte, but the nature of your unfortunate circumstances had shifted something deep within his spark and left it murmuring unhappily behind his colossal chassis.

Oblivious to the Prime’s concern, you cast another doleful glance towards the driver’s side, leaning back until your shoulders just barely ghost the fabric of your seat. “Only business, I’m afraid,” you offer, vaguely, “Nothing exciting. What about you? Are you based out here?”

“I am,” your mysterious driver responds just as concisely before he swings the topic back around to you, much to your dismay, “But this… Terry-“ He says the name as if it’s entirely foreign to him, like a word in another language that he isn’t sure how to pronounce. “-Is he a friend of yours?”

Puffing out your cheeks, you raise a hand, pivoting it lazily from side to side. “Not exactly…” you eke out. After a moment mulling it over further, you let your hand flop down into your lap again with a sigh. “Actually, no, not at all. He’s barely an acquaintance. I’ve only spoken to him once over the phone when he called to offer me a job.”

Optimus is too slow to mute the heavy hum that rolls through him, reverberating across his cabin and up through your seat.

You must pick up on his apprehension because you quirk one corner of your lips and exhale through a humourless chuckle. “I know… Ironic, isn’t it? I didn’t want to hop in a stranger’s truck, but I’ll travel all the way to Nevada to work for a guy I’ve spoken to once.”

Inwardly, Optimus fights back a frown. Soon enough, his cab is once again filled by his rich, mellow tone, just a few iotas shy of admonishing. “I assume you must have had a good reason for coming here.”

At that, you bark out a slightly louder harrumph. “I have a reason,” you admit before dropping your voice and tugging your brows together until they pucker at the middle of your forehead, gazing solemnly out through the windscreen, “Still haven’t figured out if it’s a good one or not…”

Frowning at the distant lights of Jasper, you miss the way the semi’s rearview mirror twitches microscopically to bring you into centre-frame.

The Prime casts his hidden optics discreetly over your strained expression.

Jaw cinched tight… Hands curled rigidly over your knees. Your whole frame is hunched in on itself, shoulders lifting towards your ears as if you mean to hide between them…

He doesn’t need to scan your vitals to know that your amygdala has just kicked itself up a gear.

You’re scared. And this time, something tells him that he isn’t the cause.

“Perhaps,” he starts slowly, waiting for you to unclench your jaw in response to his voice, “I could offer a third-party perspective.”

Snorting quietly, you reply, “To help me work out if I’m doing the wrong thing?”

“It may ease your troubles to share them,” he offers considerately, having to override the urge to send a soothing stroke through your EM field – or lack thereof.

Sometimes, Optimus finds himself stumped for how to connect with humans on the same level as he can Cybertronians. It’s through no fault of their own, nor his. It simply comes down to a difference in biology.

With the latter, he can so clearly convey a feeling or notion through the electrical impulses cast out by his matrix, and the spark housing it.

Oftentimes, he’ll have to brush his field against Ratchet’s when the agitated medic starts kicking out frustration and, so often, despair. He more frequently does the same to Bumblebee if ever the youngling grows despondent from Rafael’s absence. Arcee’s bouts of fury at the Decpticons, and Bulkhead’s ferocious protectiveness over Miko… Prime has felt it all, brought them into his field, and countered with a presence intended to calm and reassure without having to offer a single word.

But humans… They’re more difficult to soothe.

He has to go by tone and expression alone. The children are easier to read, but adults are a different story; masters at hiding their truest and most vulnerable thoughts behind facades they’ve had years to perfect.

How often has he caught himself trying to wrap Jack, Miko and Raf up inside his solicitous EM field before he remembers they’re human children, not sparklings? They can’t feel his energies like a Cybertronian would.

But regardless, he hopes they know that despite maintaining a poised and collected exterior, Optimus has a spark that’s familiarised itself well with their own, precious heartbeats.

He’s pulled from his musings by your soft, sardonic laugh. “What’re you gonna charge me the going rate of a therapist?” you joke, giving the empty driver’s seat a wry smile.

“I would never dream of charging you for anything,” he insists at once, so sincere that you think he either missed the joke entirely or he’s trying to bulldoze through your defences simply by being nice.

“Good,” you hum, “Because I couldn’t afford a minute of time with a therapist, let alone a whole session. Spent the last of what I had on fuel just to get here.”

“If you require financial aid,” Optimus tells you resolutely, “I would be happy to provide it.”

There are responses you’d expect to hear, and then there are those that make you choke on your own spit.

Lurching upright in your seat, your brows shoot up towards your hairline and you whip your torso around to gawk at the invisible driver. “What!?” you all but blurt, throwing an arm out to steady yourself against the dashboard. “What the- What!?”

The vehicle around you seems to churr apologetically.

“Ah… forgive me,” Optimus hedges, sounding uncharacteristically contrite, “Have I offended you?”

Blinking in rapid succession, you flap your mouth open and closed wordlessly for a few seconds, reeling your heat back up from the bottom of your shoes. “Wh-I… No,” you stammer at last, shaking your head, “No, no. I’m not offended, I’m just..”

Cutting yourself off to huff out an incredulous laugh, you press a few fingers to your temple, rubbing at it tenderly. “Christ, you’re a hoot, Optimus.”

A quick search on the internet only serves to baffle Optimus further. And as he attempts to make the connection between himself and a nocturnal bird of prey, you drag a hand down your face and let out another disbelieving little chuckle.

“Scooping me up in the dead of night, and now you’re offering me money… People will talk.”

Flicking the information on Strigiformes from his HUD, Optimus politely returns his attention to you and asks, “Is it unusual to offer money to those in need?”

“Not if that they’re a charity,” you clarify, the smile on your face turning limp as you shoot his seat a glare that lacks any kind of heat, “I’m not a charity, Optimus. I’m just an idiot who can’t keep a job.”

The truck’s engine suddenly kicks out a guttural growl just as it’s driver firmly states, “You are far from an idiot, Y/n. And… my offer still stands.”

“An offer I’m afraid I’ll have to respectfully decline,” you counter, though the frown on your face is slowly being replaced by a tentative smile, “Look, I appreciate the offer. I do. But you’re already going above and beyond to help someone you don’t know. If you keep being so nice to me, I’ll start thinking you came from the sky!”

All of a sudden, the semi’s brakes dip, only a little, barely enough to jostle you from your seat, but enough that you hastily glance out the windscreen to see if he had to slow for an obstruction in the road.

In the background, Optimus’s speakers give a burst of static before he forces out, “I don’t… The sky?”

“Yeah,” you answer blithely, “You know, like an angel.”

A hush falls over the cab as Optimus processes your words. After a time, the only think of any substance he can come up with is a soft, considering, “Oh…”

The same quiet settles itself over your shoulders, weighing them down, and you start to wonder if you’ve inadvertently insulted your mysterious driver by rejecting his offer too harshly. Before you can open your mouth to try and salvage your standing with him however, he clears his throat and utters, “You flatter me.”

“Do I?” you ask, sinking back into the seat and turning to peer out of the window, glad he doesn’t sound affronted, “Sorry if I seem out of practice, you’re the first person I’ve spoken to in… in a while.”

Optimus goes silent again, leaving you to listen to the rumble of his semi’s tyres travelling over the tarmac for several, lonely moments until he speaks again.

“You’re lonely,” he deduces, so gently and so condolingly that something in your chest gives a squeeze. Then, once again, just as you take a breath to protest his assumption, he asks, “Y/n? Why did you leave your home to come here?”

“… Ah…” Sucking a breath through your teeth, you sit up, lifting your back off the comfortable seat, much to Optimus’s private dismay, “Well, that’s… that’s a long and boring story,” you try to laugh.

As if in response, the truck slows down a few notches until the needle hovers over the forty mark. “I’ll wager it isn’t boring at all,” he prompts, “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The tension in your brows starts to cause an ache, and you stuff your teeth into your bottom lip to distract yourself. “It really is a classic,” you chuckle, wholly intent on brushing his concern aside, “You’ve probably heard it a hundred times before. Straight from the runaway’s handbook.”

Softly, the strange but kind man chides you. “Y/n…”

A lump starts to form in your throat but you force another laugh through it, pulling your chin from your knuckles to aim a look over your shoulder, hoping that his cameras don’t pick up your quivering lip. “Wait… Are you actually a therapist?” you joke, “Is that your day job?”

“Please?”

With a single word, your mouth snaps shut.

Swallowing, you try to bristle defensively, wishing you weren’t so hatefully tired and vulnerable that a simple ‘please’ could knock down a wall of indifference. “Come on, Optimus,” you scoff weakly, “I’m not about to offload my baggage onto a stranger. And we both know you’re not really interested.”

Unheard by you, a strong puff of hot air blasts from the semi’s smokestacks.

“I am loathe to contradict you, youngling,” he retorts, briefly throwing you off with the unusual word, “But I am interested. If you are in some sort of trouble-?“

At once, your spine turns stiff and you cut him off with a scowl, snapping waspishly, “-Who says I’m in trouble?”

Somehow, when he falls silent this time, he manages to exude an air of mild objurgation, and you can’t help but feel like a teenager again, slinking home well after midnight to find your parents still up and waiting for your return.

The comparison humbles you, takes some of the wind out of your ruffled sails.

Optimus’s pointed silence sinks over the cab like a thick, cumbersome blanket, too itchy. You want to throw it off.

Sullen, you swivel yourself back to face the window and lean your forehead against the cool glass, frowning out at the silver-soaked desert drifting by. Your mysterious stranger’s semi drives so smoothly, you can’t even feel the bumps.

But you can feel Optimus’s eyes upon you… somehow, as though he’s just waiting for you to make the next move.

Shifting in your seat, you stubbornly ignore the awkward silence, but it isn’t long before that awkwardness evolves into a kernel of guilt that embeds itself under your ribcage.

Here’s a man who so far, has been nothing but cordial and helpful to you. Hell, even downright generous. All he’s asked of you in return is to hear your reason for being here.

And what did you do?

You threw his – likely genuine – interest back in his proverbial face.

But to tell him…-

‘-Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,’ you scold yourself, ‘You’re not that exciting. You could have been through far worse, after all.’

Resisting the impulse to groan aloud, you knock your forehead gently against the window, considering.

For his part, Optimus doesn’t press you, he doesn’t clear his throat or try to change the subject, he just… waits.

And finally, alongside a great heave of your chest and a woebegone sigh, his patience is rewarded.

“You ever feel… like…” Squinting, you work the sentence over in your mouth before pushing it past reluctant teeth, “Like you’re not living up to everyone’s expectations?”

If you had any idea who you’d just asked that question of, you might have realised what the sudden lurch of his engine means.

Chalking it up to the truck changing gears, you peel yourself away from the window and stare down at your lap, fingers absently fiddling with one another. “It’s like… Okay, so, you know how people around you always say, ‘just try your best, that’s all you can do?”

When it becomes clear that you’re actually poised, expecting an answer, Optimus ventures a careful, “I have heard that many a time, yes.”

“And you want to try your best for them, right? You want to be a better person?”

“Of course,” he says far more easily, only to hesitate when you go still and your face crumples.

“But… you don’t want it badly enough...” you eke out slowly.

“…I’m sorry?”

“You don’t want it badly enough to actually put any effort into being that person, you know?”

This time, Optimus doesn’t offer a response.

You almost want to smile. Of course he doesn’t know. Look at him. Picking up a random stranger in the night to drive you where you need to go, offering a sympathetic ear to listen to your troubles, offering money when you tell him you lost your job… If he put effort into being better, they’d have to make him a Saint.

“I wasn’t… giving my best,” you finally sigh at the centre console, “At my job, at home… I knew I wasn’t giving my best, and I didn’t try to. I had everyone fooled into thinking that what I was giving them was all I had…. But it wasn’t…”

Suddenly, your eyes blur over with stinging, salty tears, and you duck your head at once, frowning angrily at yourself, “Not even close.”

Optimus murmurs your name, but you can’t bear to let him try and say anything kind to you now, not when you’ve just plucked at such a tender wound, and kindness would only rip the scab off sooner than you’re ready to let it bleed.

“I was, um… I was late to work one morning at my old job,” you clear your throat, sweeping a finger roughly under your eyelid, “Overslept. That was grounds for firing me. Lost my apartment because I couldn’t make the rent anymore… When I eventually bit the bullet and went home to tell dad, he…”

Your voice fades out, clogged by the memory of that day so many weeks ago, another in a long line of disappointments you’d walked over your parents’ welcome mat.

But Optimus is still waiting, still reserving his judgement until you finish, so you take a breath, remind yourself that all of this is nobody’s fault but your own, and continue. “I think… it was slowly killing my father to see his kid wasting a perfectly good life instead of being the person he thought I’d become.”

You try so hard to remain aloof, but the late hour, the solitary journey, this stranger’s amicable nature… Something akin to a shard of glass wedges its point under the soft tissue of your heart.

And jabs.

Suppressing a wince, you plaster nonchalance into a shrug and sniff, “So, I figured if he couldn’t see me, like at all, he might… be happier.” It’s hard to admit, just as it was when you made the decision to leave your house that night and set out to find your own way in the great, wide world.

Finally, just as the semi drives past a large, green sign that reads ‘Jasper city limits,’ Optimus’s voice rumbles through the speakers.

“You left your home,” he begins slowly, “Because you thought you might disappoint your father?”

Close.

You left because you knew you already had.

Not just him either.

Partnerless, childless, you’ve been drifting through life by yourself on the path of least resistance, and every year, you grow older, and you watched your mother and father grow older too.

Leaning your head back against the seat, you nearly let your eyes slip shut before remembering you’re supposed to be staying awake, pinning them open to peer up at the blue light reflected off a dark ceiling.

“… Does he at least know where you are?”

You smile sadly, rolling your neck around to your other shoulder and giving the empty driver’s seat a heavy-lidded blink. “He knows I’ll be okay.”

Just then, the seatbelt seems to grow ever so slightly tauter around you, just enough that you can feel it press against your abdomen, but so briefly that you can’t be sure it isn’t your chest hitching.

“He must be worried about you,” Optimus prompts.

Shrugging, you turn back to face the window. “Like I said, he knows I’ll bounce back. I… usually do. I mean I have done so far.”

Another disquieted hum trickles out of the speakers.

“That’s why I had to get to the dairy tonight,” you sniffle, blinking hard as the truck passes beneath the first street-light, bringing you safely within the city outskirts, “I have to make sure Terry thinks I’m worth keeping on as a farm-hand. If I’m late on my first day and he decides I’m not worth it…” Your hands ball into clenched fists in your lap and you grit your teeth, determined not to let your misty eyes spill all over Optimus’s seats.

“I need this job,” you croak, more to yourself now than your invisible listener, “Not sure how many bounces I’ve got left in me.”

This time, you’re certain the seatbelt tightens. You even spare it a glance when it doesn’t slacken again, and you force your fists apart to slide your fingers beneath the fabric, gently working it loose.

Optimus is barely aware of your touch. “You should try to contact your father,” he says at last, “I’m certain that if he hears of your circumstances, and learns why you left and where you are, he’ll be able to help you.”

He watches you blink, frowning suddenly and sitting up to give his side of the cab a baffled look. Slowly, your expression opens up as a realisation dawns on you, one not yet privy to the mech.

“Oh,” you say, mildly surprised, “You think it was only my decision to leave.”

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

Optimus doesn’t know which is worse.

That you could feel like such a burden to your family, you thought leaving would make them happy.

Or the fact that your family had done nothing to stop you from walking out the door.

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

There aren’t a great many things that a Prime is permitted to regret.

That does not, however, make them incapable of regret. Only the admission of it.

By the time Optimus’s gargantuan tyres turn onto the long, sandy driveway of Terry’s Dairy, he realises he’s added one more contrition to his ever-growing list. He’s gone behind your back, turned a blind optic to your wishes and invaded your privacy in a way that made the matrix in his chassis squirm and howl.

But it’s all he could think to do for you at short notice, he laments, short of carting you back to the silo and ensuring you get some proper rest. Ratchet would probably take one look at your vitals and order a week of inactivity. Then he’d likely tear Optimus a new finial for bringing yet another human into their fold.

It would be counterproductive, he supposes. After all, the Decepticons aren’t aware of your existence, and affiliating yourself with the Autobots will only paint a target on your back.

No, leaving you here is for the best, he reasons, though he resolves to avoid going behind your back again in the future.

He also resolves to make the drive up to the pastures part of his weekly patrol… Not for any particular reason – it’s possible the Decepticons also prowl along these old roads… And if, on his way by, he happens to cast a glance over and see you, well… All the better.

“Are you certain you’ll be alright?” he asks for the umpteenth time as he trundles to a stop in front of a modest, wooden farmhouse, his headlights bathing the little white porch in their dazzling glow.

Giving a jovial roll of your eyes, you haul your rucksack out of the footwell and reach down to press the seatbelt release, having to jab at it with your thumb a few times before it eventually relents and lets go of the metal buckle.

“Don’t you worry about me,” you tell him stoutly as you reach for the door handle. That too, you struggle to open, tugging at it with no success until the lock promptly goes ‘click’ and the door swings open of its own accord.

Clicking your tongue at the temperamental tech, you arduously slide yourself from the seat and swing the rucksack over a shoulder, climbing backwards down the steps. “You just worry about getting this truck in tip-top shape. Sounded like the engine had a mind of its own.”

Dropping the last foot to the ground, your knees threaten to buckle, but you manage to remain upright, stepping back to smile up into the cab before the door tugs itself shut.

Right on cue, the semi’s idling engine lets out a noisy rev, instantly drawing a laugh out of you.

“Ha!” you grin, “Yeah, just like-”

You’re promptly interrupted by an unexpected commotion from the house.

Whipping your head towards the porch, you let out a yelp as the screen door suddenly bursts open, and from the darkness comes barrelling a short, stocky man wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama shorts, a single shoe, and a ferocious snarl.

But most alarmingly of all, is the shiny, side-by-side shotgun held aloft in his arms, the stock braced against his shoulder and one, keen eye staring straight down the sights.

All the moisture in your mouth dries up when you realise those long, glinting barrels are aimed directly at you.

“What the-!?” is all you can bleat out.

Without a moment’s warning, the truck beside you roars to life and suddenly lurches forwards on its wheels, thrusting itself like a wall of metal into the space between you and the gun-toting farmer.

“Wh- Optimus!” you exclaim, trying to stand on your toes to fruitlessly see over the semi’s grill. “Terry!? Is that you!?”

“I told you sons of bitches,” the incensed man hollers, “F’I ever caught you tryn’a mess with my cows again, I’d-!”

“Terry!” Stepping sideways, you attempt to move around Optimus’s semi, only for the truck to roll forwards, keeping you hidden safely behind its bumper.

“Optimus, stop it,” you hiss, planting a palm on the warm, thundering hood and darting around the front of his truck, too quickly for him to move forwards again lest he squash you beneath his radiator.

Lifting your voice, you hurriedly call out, “Terry, i-it’s me! Y/n? We spoke on the phone! About the job!”

You’re met with a stunned silence as you manage to skirt around to the other side of the semi’s bumper, keeping your hand on the metal as if that alone could keep the ten-tonne machine at bay.

Finally, ‘Terry’ comes into view, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you meet his steely glare through the sights.

Then, just as swiftly, he blinks, and the gun drops almost at once, his face bursting open in surprise. “Y/n? That you, kid?” he calls.

The palpable relief almost brings you to your knees. Taking your hand off the truck’s grill, you step forwards, eyeing the gun warily as it dangles at the farmer’s side. “Yeah, it’s me… Sorry.”

“Goddammit, Kid! You about gave me a damn heart attack!”

“I gave you a heart attack!?” Expelling a shaky breath, you card your fingers through your messy hair and add, “Jesus, Terry. Was the gun really necessary?”

There’s a line of sweat beading on the farmer’s wispy brow as he flicks his gaze between you and the revved-up truck lurking behind you. After a moment of squinting, he returns his eyes to you. “Can’t be too careful,” he grunts, “This old thing ain’t even loaded. Just use it to scare away some damn kids who’ve been comin’ round here and spookin’ up my herds.”

True to his word, Terry breaks the shotgun’s barrels, flipping the gun around in his hands to show you the empty chambers.

At that moment, as if he’d been waiting to determine that the danger had passed, Optimus puts his semi in reverse, rolling it backwards over the sand as you turn to watch him leave, absently raising a hand to wave farewell as he turns the truck around.

Just before he does, the semi’s headlights blink once, then twice, on and off, a farewell in his own right, before its wheels carry it around in the spacious yard and it begins to drive, leaving the way it had come, back up the lonely, sand-choked track.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Terry breathes, draping a wrist over his forehead and letting out an incredulous chuckle, “The Angel…” Tearing his eyes off the truck’s retreating taillights, he stares over at you, mouth crooked into a lopsided grin. “How the Hell’d you get a ride with the goddamn Angel?”

“I’m sorry,” you sputter, eyelashes flickering in disbelief, “Angel?”

Terry’s expression morphs from giddy excitement to a wistful, faraway gaze. “The Angel of Highway Forty-Nine,” he says breathlessly, his eyes sharpening once again as he turns them back onto you, “He’s a legend. Just showed up one day in that big ol’ truck of his. Noone knows who he is or where he came from! A ghost, that’s what folks say, who drives his rig up and down the roads around Jasper. Never stoppin’ for gas. Never gettin’ to where he’s goin.”

Suddenly, his demeanour shifts again, and he closes the distance between you, lowering his voice conspiratorially and lifting his hand up to his mouth as if to shield the words from prying ears. Though the only ears you can see are those of the cows watching sleepily from their barn, no doubt awoken by the ruckus. “I know folks who swear, when they drive past him on the road, they look, but not one of ‘em has ever seen a person behind that windscreen!”

“Oh my,” you return, feigning intrigue with a tired expertise, “That’s spooky. But… maybe the glass is just tinted?”

Terry leans backwards out of your bubble, spreading his arms wide and pursing his lips. “Maybe,” he concedes, only to immediately drop his arms again, and you watch in mild concern as his face splits into a wide, borderline-manic grin, “Or maybe… He’s an alien, and that big rig there?” He points the barrel of his shotgun down the farm track at the spot where Optimus had disappeared. “That’s his craft.”

…. Ah.

Paying dutiful attention, you follow his line of sight, eyebrows high on your head and a carefully pensive gaze laid bare for Terry to see.

“His craft?” you echo, “You mean like a spaceship?”

The old farmer’s face lights up and his eyes zero in on you like a car salesman who’s just spotted a clueless customer stumbling into his showroom.

It took twenty minutes for Terry to show you to the little annex you’d be living in from now on. And only another five for you to thank him profusely for giving you this chance, bid him goodnight, shuck off your shoes and rucksack and finally, finally flop face-first onto the bed. A real bed. With pillows and sheets and a blanket. Not the bed of an old pickup truck and a coat tossed over your legs for warmth.

Rolling onto your back, you splay your arms out on either side of you, sending a tiny smile up at the ceiling.

“Alien… Ha,” you laugh softly. Terry’s a character. Decent enough, but the scent of stale beer and hops lingering on his breath when he leaned in close stole some of the credence from his theory.

Now, Angel… you can get behind. Optimus had shown up right when you needed him, after all, even if you couldn’t see it for yourself at the time.

Ah, but Optimus is the good sort. And good sorts tend to drift to where they’re needed, helping out wherever they can. You’re not the good sort. You just muddle on through and go wherever you can, helping out where your help is invited.

You resolve to bite the bullet and just check how much is in your current account. See if you’ve got enough in there to hire a tow, or a friendly farmer with a tractor and a rope…

The passcode screen flicks away, and you’re left blinking tiredly at the figure on top of the page.

You blink once.

Then again, harder.

Then you promptly drop the phone onto the bed with a soft ‘whump.’

Snatching it back up, you gape at the screen, drop it again, then throw your hands over your mouth in abject horror.

There must be some mistake. You’re dreaming, you fell asleep, and this is a dream, surely to god!?

A third check yields the same results, and once again, you toss the phone away from you to the foot of the bed, staring after it as if it might come alive at any moment.

No matter how hard you squeeze your fingernails into your scalp, you can’t wake up from whatever twisted fantasy you’ve stumbled into.

The numbers and words are burned into your retinas, flashing dimly every time you blink.

‘$10,000 has been added to your account.’

#optimus prime #tfp #tfp optimus #optimus prime x reader #robot/human #autobots #protectiveness #gentle giant #Optimus accidentally offers to be your sugar daddy #guns #farmers #drabble

256 notes · View notes

sarawayne0510 · 23 days

Text

ATE

pairing: Bangchan x fem!driver

summary: What if the worlds of Formula 1 and K-pop collided? Follow the story of a Red Bull rookie driver and Stray Kids' leader, Bang Chan

warnings: none?? just cute fluff basically, mention of Y/N

word count: 2.2k ish

Genre: SMAU/Fluff

The golden hour in Monaco was always breathtaking, casting a warm, soft glow over the city. I wandered into a small album store, tucked away from the bustling streets, hoping to find some new music to add to my collection. The scent of vinyl and freshly printed album covers filled the air, instantly putting me at ease.

As I scanned the shelves, a particular album caught my eye-Stray Kids' latest, ATE. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't resist; my hand instinctively reached out, and I grabbed it. The cover was stunning, the colors vibrant, and I could already hear the tracks playing in my mind. It was impossible not to smile as I held it, admiring the print.

I was completely absorbed in the moment when a voice broke through the silence. "Stray Kids, huh?" The words were familiar, yet they startled me. I was sure I was alone when I walked in.

I turned slowly, my heart pounding, and there he was-Bang Chan, standing right in front of me. He looked just as casual and cool as ever, a cap pulled low over his forehead, but there was no mistaking who he was. My breath caught in my throat as I realized that Stray Kids have been on their European tour and decided to take a little break but In Monaco!?

For a moment, I just stared at him, too shocked to say anything, clutching the ATE album as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Hi, by any chance, are you (Y/N)?" Chan asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

"Yeah," I said, trying to keep my cool. "And you're Bang Chan, right?"

He chuckled softly, nodding. "I didn't expect you to recognize me. These days, I'm just trying to get into F1, and when I saw you, I couldn't help but ask."

"Oh, really? Well, how could I not recognize my favorite band member?" I replied, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief. "This is definitely the best day of my life."

Just as I was soaking in the moment, my phone buzzed with a message from my manager, calling me in for an urgent meeting. I sighed internally-of all the times, it had to be now. "Oh lord, I've never wanted to kill someone as much as I do right now," I muttered under my breath, feeling a pang of frustration.

I quickly excused myself, offering an apologetic smile to Chan. "I'm really sorry, but I have to go."

"Of course, no worries," he said with an understanding nod. "It was great meeting you."

With a heavy heart, I left the store, heading back home as quickly as I could. Once I got there, I opened my laptop, ready to join the meeting. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about him the entire time. Bang Chan-THE Bang Chan had recognized me, talked to me, and now, I couldn't get him out of my head.

The last thing I wanted was to attend another F1 party. After a long day, the idea of socializing felt more exhausting than exhilarating. But George had other plans, practically dragging me along despite my protests.

As soon as I stepped into the venue, I felt the familiar wave of reluctance wash over me. The music was loud, the lights were dim, and the room was packed with people -just the kind of setting I wasn't in the mood for. Before I could slip away to a quiet corner, Christian called me over, waving me toward a group of team principals. To my dismay, Christian was standing right beside Toto.

Oh lord, please don't tell me they're at it again, I thought, bracing myself for another one of their infamous spats that somehow always seemed to drag me into the middle of it. But to my surprise, everything was calm. They just wanted me to listen to their old man talk, reminiscing about races and strategies from before I was even born.

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to excuse myself. I needed a break, and the bar seemed like the perfect escape. As I approached, I noticed someone sitting there, casually sipping a drink. My heart skipped a beat when I realized who it was.

Bang Chan.

Of all the people, in all the places, here he was again. I couldn't help but grin. Maybe I was God's favorite after all.

I slid onto the barstool beside him, feeling a rush of excitement. "Fancy seeing you here," I started, trying to keep my voice casual but failing to hide my enthusiasm.

Chan turned to me, a smile spreading across his face. "Seems like fate, doesn't it?"

And just like that, the conversation flowed naturally, as if we'd known each other for years.

As Bang Chan and I continued our conversation at the bar, I could feel a few pairs of eyes on us. When I glanced around, I spotted a small group of drivers-Max, Lando, Carlos, and George-hovering nearby. They were clearly trying (and failing) to be discreet, whispering and exchanging wide-eyed looks.

I caught Lando nudging George, who nearly spilled his drink as he tried to keep his excitement in check. Max, usually so composed, was grinning like a kid who'd just uncovered the world's biggest secret, while Carlos had a look of utter disbelief on his face.

I couldn't help but laugh softly. "I think we've got an audience," I whispered to Chan, nodding subtly in their direction.

He turned to see what I was talking about and chuckled, shaking his head. "They look like they're about to explode," he said, amused.

Just then, George gave Lando a not-so-subtle shove, and the group erupted into barely contained laughter, causing Chan and me to exchange amused glances.

"Should we give them something to really talk about?" I joked, raising an eyebrow.

Chan grinned, clearly enjoying the idea. "Why not?"

We leaned in closer, pretending to be deep in conversation, which only made the drivers freak out even more. They were practically bouncing on their heels, trying to contain their excitement, and it took everything in me not to burst out laughing.

Chan pulled out his phone. “You know, we should definitely stay in touch,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “Let’s exchange numbers.”

I smiled, pulling out my own phone. “I’d like that.”

We quickly exchanged numbers, and I saved his contact under “Bang Chan <3". As we finished, I noticed the drivers watching us intently, their faces lighting up with barely contained glee.

“Looks like they’re pretty excited for us,” Chan said with a chuckle.

“Seems that way,” I agreed, trying to keep my composure. “I think we might have just given them a story for the ages.”

With our numbers exchanged and the excitement of the evening bubbling around us, it was clear that this was one night neither of us would soon forget.

The tweet was accompanied by a photo from the party where Bang Chan and I were chatting, and the reactions were immediate. Fans were abuzz, speculating and shipping us together. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sudden attention.

Deciding to lean into the fun, I posted a photo on Instagram

Playing Stray Kids-JJAM

"On repeat 🎧"

And posted a reel of me and Lily dancing to Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies.”

@(username)

"💃💖"

@lilymhe

Liked by gnabnansc,lilymhe,alex_albon,georgerussell63 and others

Comments

@Lilymhe: “@(Y/N) my wife 💖✨️

↳@(your_username) MY WAG!!

↳@user our fav couple

↳@alex_stop GIRLS STOP! ITS CONSERNING AT THIS POINT GO TO YOUR AUSTRALIAN MAN!!

↳ user127 alex don't be shy spill

@LandoNorris nurse she is out again!!

@gnabnahc 💖

↳@lilymhe back off

@maxverstappen1 So THIS is what was happening in the hotel hallway last night?

@CarlosSainz55 I left you alone for 2 minutes!!!

The Monza GP had been a nightmare. The car was in its worst state, and there was a moment when I almost lost control entirely. It was a close call—too close. My heart was still racing from the near-accident, and the disappointment of not finishing not even in top 5 weighed heavily on me. All I wanted was to forget about the day, but the memories kept playing on a loop in my mind.

Just as I was about to curl up and try to sleep, my phone buzzed with a message from Chan:

Chan: “I heard about the race. Are you okay? Big hugs from afar 💛”

I sighed, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

Y/N: “It was a disaster… I was so close to crashing, and the car was a mess. I could really use a hug right now.”

Moments later, there was a soft knock on my driver's room . Confused, I got up and opened it to find a figure standing there, in all black and in a facemask and sunglasses. It took me a second to realize who it was, but the familiar warmth in his eyes gave him away immediately.

“Chan?” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly.

He nodded, pulling down the mask to reveal his face. Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped me in the tightest, warmest hug. I buried my face in his chest, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over.

“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled against his shirt, my voice shaky. “I almost crashed, Chan. It was so close…”

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing my back. “But you didn’t. You’re okay, and that’s what matters. I’m here now, okay? Big hugs, just like I promised.”

We stood there in the doorway for a long moment, neither of us saying anything, just holding each other. His presence was calming, like a warm blanket on a cold day, and slowly, the tension in my body began to melt away.

“How did you even get here?” I finally asked, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

Chan grinned, a little sheepishly. “I was already in monza for promotion, so I thought I’d come see you. Had to go incognito, though—don’t want to cause a scene.” He gestured to the mask and glasses with a small laugh.

I couldn’t help but smile, despite everything. “You really didn’t have to do that, you know. But… I’m so glad you did.”

“Of course I did. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.” His voice was soft, sincere, and it made my heart skip a beat.

“Thank you, Chan,” I whispered, leaning into his embrace once more. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Anytime, (Y/N). I’ll always be here for you.”

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I realized just how much he meant to me. The world outside didn’t matter—just the two of us, here, together.

With two weeks until the next race in Baku, I finally had some time to relax. Chan and I decided to escape the spotlight and spend our break in Capri, Italy—a perfect getaway where we could just be ourselves, away from the hustle and bustle of our busy lives.

Capri was everything I needed—crystal-clear waters, picturesque views, and a peaceful atmosphere. We spent our days exploring the island, walking hand-in-hand through narrow streets lined with colorful buildings, and taking boat rides around the stunning coastline. It was like a dream, and being with Chan made it even more special.

One afternoon, we found a quaint little café tucked away from the more crowded areas. The sun was shining through the vines that draped over the outdoor seating, casting dappled shadows on the cobblestone path. We settled into a cozy corner table, laughing over the silly adventures we’d had that day.

As we waited for our drinks, Chan suddenly grew quiet, a thoughtful expression on his face. I raised an eyebrow, curious about what was going through his mind.

“What’s up?” I asked, nudging him playfully.

“Just… thinking,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

Before I could ask him what he was thinking about, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. Carefully, he started folding it, his fingers moving with surprising precision. I watched in fascination as the paper slowly took shape, until it became a small, delicate ring.

He looked up at me, a bit of nervousness in his eyes, and gently took my hand. “I know this isn’t much, but… I wanted to make something for you. Something to remind you that I’m always here, no matter where we are.” He slipped the paper ring onto my finger, his touch sending a warmth through me that I couldn’t quite describe.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked at the simple yet meaningful ring, and then back at Chan. “It’s perfect,” I whispered, touched by the gesture.

He took a deep breath, as if gathering his courage, and then met my eyes with a sincerity that made my heart melt. “(Y/N), I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now… Spending these days with you, away from everything, has made me realize just how much you mean to me. I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore. I love you.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. My heart swelled with emotion, and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Chan… I love you too. I’ve felt this way for so long, but I didn’t know how to say it.”

His face lit up, and before I knew it, he was pulling me into a tight hug. We stayed like that for a while, holding each other close, both of us smiling like lovestruck fools.

When we finally pulled back, Chan brushed a strand of hair from my face, his eyes full of warmth and love. “This is just the beginning, you know,” he said softly. “I want to be with you, no matter what.”

I nodded, my heart full. “I want that too, Chan. Wherever this journey takes us, I’m just glad we’re in it together.”

And as we sat there in that little café in Capri, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us, wrapped in the warmth of our newfound love.

@gnabnahc

Liked by @(your_username),alex_albon,_doolsetnet,miniverse.__,georgerussell63

Comments has been disable

@gnabnansc In the end

@(your_username)

@(your_username) it's him and I

Liked by @gnabnahc,miniversr.___, lilymhe,alexandrasaintmleux, alex_albon

Comments has been limited

@lilymhe welcome home cheater

@alex_albon finally!😮‍💨

@user119 rue when was this!?

@user143 MOTHER IS THAT A MEN WITH YOU!!!!

@gnabnahc love is patient. Love is kind. Love is slowly losing your mind.

↳@lilymhe alex when I catch you alex... Why can’t you be like him?!

↳@alex_albon Not everyone can be Bang Chan. But I’m trying!

@CarlosSainz55 I LEFT YOU ALONE FOR 2 WEEKS!!

@alexandrasaintmleux pick up the phone RIGHT NOW!

@(your_username)

"I need a big boy😮‍💨"

@gnabnahc

Posted a story!

"Sometimes big boys also need passengers princess treatment"

______________________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading my fanfiction! It’s my first time writing, and I really appreciate your support. If you’re interested in a part 2 or want to be tagged, just let me know. Thanks again! :3

@charizznorizz

#kpop #bang chan #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female driver #f1 grid x reader #f1 x driver!reader #platonic grid x reader #bang chris #bangchan x reader #f1 x kpop #f1 x k-pop #f1 smau #kpop smau #stray kids #straykids smau #bangchan fluff #kpop fluff #straykids fluff

187 notes · View notes

autistichalsin · 8 months

Text

Halsin and abandonment issues

One thing I've come to conclude about Halsin's character, based on many parts of his story and some lines he says, is that he might have abandonment issues.

To begin with: he lost his entire family over the years to accidents and disease, per his writer. That's the kind of thing that leaves deep scars- watching everyone you love fade away over years, until at a "comparatively young age" you're the last of your family and turned over to the Druids to be taken care of. (His writer didn't specify an age, but if he was young enough to be "turned over to the Druids" instead of "finding his way there" then it is likely he was not an adult.) There's no time to lose your family that isn't absolutely horrible, but as a young person is far, far worse.

Then there's Halsin's other traumas, all of which involve isolation; he was a prisoner for three years in the Underdark, and despite this, no one thought to come looking for him to save him. He lost most of his fellow Druids in the battle against Ketheric Thorm and the Shadow Curse that followed- and what few didn't die, he still lost their friendship to his leadership position, the "weight of responsibility". His one lasting friend in all of this, Thaniel, was lost to the curse and Halsin spent over 100 years blaming himself, fighting to be the best leader he could at the Grove, and having no one at all he could lean on for any of his burdens. And then he wound up kidnapped again, this time by the goblins, and when he returns, almost all his Druids have been turned against him, some even holding him in contempt. All experiences that are isolating in nature and reinforce to him that he can't rely on anyone else, that he is the only person he can depend on, and that in the end, everyone he cares for is going to leave or die.

It's not just speculation that he feels that way, either. He has several lines about his survivor guilt and isolation:

"[...] there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time."

"[...] Grim as it is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory. I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost."

And lines that indicate he's used to being left, too.

If the player rejects him after he wildshapes (emphasis mine):

"Ah, I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then."

Saying "of course" implies it's not entirely unexpected.

After the final battle, if the player declines to have a celebration and says the party should split up:

"It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..."

He was expecting the party not to stick together.

Similarly, if a love-interest player breaks up with him in the ending:

"I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless. But that just means what we shared was precious, and will live on in my memory. Thank you - I am a richer man for having met you."

The "nothing lasts forever" really sells it, to me, especially because the context makes it clear that he isn't just making a general statement- he's talking about relationships and people. Again- he was expecting it all to end.

His worry in the epilogue, when a solo-romanced player comes to the party with him, hints at this even more: "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me."

He's surprised that the player, even if they're in love, would want to live with him and share his dream. He can't believe they really wanted that- he even says that he keeps expecting to "stir from the dream".

I feel like that shows a lot about how Halsin feels after all the loss he's endured- he doesn't ultimately believe anyone is going to stay with him, whether because they choose to leave him, or because they'll die.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

517 notes · View notes

dazaiandhislovelybandages · 9 months

Note

Hello I love your fanfics they are so interesting! Can I please have a fic for shinichiro Sano x reader who looks very intimidating but is actually very sweet and soft? Thank you I hope you have a nice day and remember to eat and drink!

(if you feel uncomfortable or do not want to do this fic feel free to delete! :3 )

Bad Is The New Soft {Shinichiro Sano}

A/n: Honestly, hands down, you have been the kindest person to request from me, thank you sooooooo much.

Pairing: Shinichiro x gn!reader

Trigger Warnings: none

Shinichiro had gotten used to it. The way your expression was completely blank whenever someone you didn't know was talking to you, or the way you naturally side-eyed people on the train, the way you stood, the way you walked... it even made Mikey scared when he first introduced you to him.

And Mikey was never scared.

Your stance had actually played a huge part on him not even daring to make a move at you and for fuck's sake he had been a gang leader. But Shinichiro had been scared, his hands were trembling and not because he was standing in front of the most beautiful person he had ever seen or because he had been rejected 20 times.

He could remember that day very very clearly. You had somehow agreed to go out with him even though he hardly knew you and you had been looking at him with a dead stare while he talked.

But then you stepped on him while the two of you were walking. "Oh my, I am so sorry." His eyes widened as the tone of your voice changed in a matter of seconds. He just looked at you almost confused.

"It's okay." He stuttered, trying to fight his heart beating faster and faster.

"Are you sure?"

That was just the beginning. Soon enough, Shinichiro figured out that you weren't actually intimidating but it was just a matter of time until you actually got to know someone. And you were so sweet and soft and so so gentle his weak heart could barely take it.

After the two of you got together, he could barely keep his hands off you. He just wanted to protect you, full heartedly believing that you were the most precious person on this earth -somehow Mikey was also convinced and one random Friday you got yourself two bodyguards.

But when the two of you were out, or when he wasn't talking to you? Your face was just blank, technically a resting bitch face. Grandpa Sano was intimidated at first which came as a shock to the Sano siblings.

The only person that immediately got to you was Emma. It was something that made Shinichiro and Mikey really jealous.

"Hello." Your voice was as soft as velvet when you talked to her for the first time. It was just odd, the young girl had immediately broken whatever walls you had around you with just a smile and a ponytail that leaned more towards on the left because Shinichiro was still strugging with doing her hair.

Shinichiro adapted to your behaviour pretty quickly. In fact, he was really smug about it, bragging to Akashi, Benkei and Wakasa that you hate everyone but him.

Of course his two friends never believed him because two days later, you were laughing with them as if you had known them forever.

#shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #sano shinichiro x reader #shinichiro #shinichiro sano #sano shinichiro #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #sano shinichiro fluff #tokyo revengers shinichiro x reader #tokyo revengers shinichiro #tokyo rev x reader #writing #anime #manga #anime and manga

694 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

Note

Hi! I don't know if ur accepting requests, so you can ignore this if y aren't ❤️

Can I request the twisted wonderland dorm leaders with a gender neutral reader that's based on the White Rabbit?

White Rabbit | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Paranoic and really jittery; your every day normal is that of someone high on caffeine. While many would equate it to the temperament of a frantic bunny it is your every day normal. Of course the ones willing to kill for you don’t mind or maybe they do and are hoping that once your in their clutches your nervous temperment recedes:

Vil Schoenheit

“If time is the issue I’ll make sure to keep you informed.”

When you are trapped staying in your captor boyfriend’s dorm

He sets alarms for events you worry about

While smashing or keeping your pocket watches away

That way you can’t hop to testify when the body dropped

He’ll worry about the time and he’ll worry about your makeup

You don’t need to do anything else

Riddle Rosehearts

“Yes! Your timing is impeccable (Y/n) you can never disappoint.”

Of course he appreciates your dedication to time

Always following his rules on top of that

No better place for you than by his side

His precious timekeeper

Idia Shroud

“I-i understand t-that feeling. Maybe we can isolate together!”

He figures if time is your stresser than you’ll appreciate not keeping any time at all

He’s excited to get you addicted+ to enjoy games as much as he does

Killing two major bosses in one go– you’ll always be by his side and he does get to save the ammo meant for enemies

Malleus Draconia

“We are so different. Different in size, in power–star crossed is a good name for us isn’t.”

He notices how you were so brave to approach more like too afraid to run away

He loves the speedy pitter patter of your little heart almost as much as he likes it when your sleeping+

Dragon’s aren’t known for chasing bunnies

But they are known for keeping treasures even if they do try to run

Azul Ashengrotto

“Always in a rush, wouldn’t you like some security?”

He does what he does best

Take advantage of your jumpy disposition

But this time it isn’t just to have the upper hand

Precious little rabbits should be kept safe and sound in their pens

Predators are easier to cull that way

Leona Kingscholar

“Well that’s my herbivore, my prey. Quite the runner.”

Delights in the fact he can chase you around and blame it on you just being the scaredy bunny you are

But he loves it most how you recognize his hunger, twitch your nose, and dart away

You’re just so irresistable

971 notes · View notes

yandere-kokeshi · 11 months

Note

Ello Danny may I ask for more werewolf 141 this one of yours https://www.tumblr.com/yandere-kokeshi/729302362571882496/saw-an-idea-from-frogchiro-and-decided-to-write got me hooked it's okay if not just thought I'd ask 🫡

A/N: Sure <3. Honestly, werewolves and Buffy men? My favorite. Feel free to send more :)!

Warnings: yandere behavior, werewolf AU, and headcanons, talks about smothering (affectionately). If I missed anything, lmk <3

Within your poly-possessive relationship, it’s likely all of you live in the forest, in a large half-built cabin that they can call home. With this said, a lot of outdoor activities are present. All of them, including Johnny, love to adventure within the deep forest; especially when they’ve changed the night before.

Gaz and Johnny love playing in the water, both of them playfully growling at you to join him; Price looking from afar as if both of them lost his mind. Both Gaz and Soap are always occupied with water, standing rocks, and trails that are far, whilst the two older ones (Ghost and Price) stay by your side, gently nipping at your legs for warning.

All of them are guard dogs — standing hugely on their hind legs as they scowl around your front yard, awaiting danger. They follow you 24/7, especially if you just came home from work or from hanging out with someone else. They quickly smother you, dropping their entire weight on you to get rid of that other person’s horrible smells. You’re theirs.

During the spring and fall, fur is littered everywhere around your home. Anywhere you go, there’s a trail of it — in the bathroom, in the kitchen, somehow in your underwear, and deep within the cushions. Even if they haven’t shifted, expect a lot of it.

You will get licked. Most of the time, it’s not even sexual. It’s a form of gentle affection, as they don’t have lips, and their teeth are rather sharp. They’d hate to nick your precious skin. Plus, the salt on your skin or the leftover food on your lips is also nice.

Price is the leader within the pack — which isn’t surprising. He often bites or growls when any of the others mess with you too much, and tries to put them in their place when they’ve been bad. But he also puts you in place when you’ve been bad.

However, he’s the cuddliest out of everyone, and somehow outrunning Johnny. You know how Great Danes love laying on your lap even though they’re huge? Yeah, John wants to do the same thing. He just wants to flop on top of you and trap you within ‘his’ nest. It’s great in the winter when it’s cold. Price is so warm and fluffy. But in the heat, you’ll be begging for him to get off as you’re dying of sweat and dehydration.

Speaking of nests, sleeping with all of them is chaos. At night, all of them get incredibly cuddly — always want to be near, or quite literally on top of you. This said, only two or three (if they really want to push it) will sleep with you and take turns every night. Also, there are a bunch of large dog beds everywhere; including the bathroom.

When waking you up for either affection, extra food, or the rare chance where they’ll remind you for work, all of them enjoy licking your cheek. The sudden wetness is plenty to wake someone up. And it tickles as one of them, mostly Gaz, nibbles behind your ears, especially with his cold, twitching nose. The more reluctant you are to wake up, the more tongues prod from everywhere. Don’t make their claws join in too.

All of them communicate through growls, which isn’t far from their bloodline. That being said, all of them let out ‘dog’ noises, more than they’d like to admit.

If Price hears an out-of-the-ordinary creek in the house, he lets out a deep, rumbling, warning growl before finding out that noise.

If the door opens when Ghost wasn’t expecting it, barks and snarls fly out, especially if you’re home.

Accidentally stepped on Soap’s tail from behind? He snarls, showing his teeth, before realizing it’s you. He apologizes with many head nudges and licks to the face.

Gaz lets out gentle chuffs, almost like a Hyena, when you call the others bad boys; but quickly whines when you snap at him to watch it. And lastly, if any of them are uncomfortable or hurt, a so-tiny-no-one-will-hear-it yap slips out. They also let out gentle growls when frustrated or anxious.

Their noses are incredibly sensitive. Any perfume/cologne, lotions, or anything that you used are now thrown away; scentless shampoos are your thing from now on. They’ve asked you to tone it down, as they not only love your natural, musky smell but hate the loathing, overpowering fake one. They really can’t enjoy their time together when all of them are wincing and sneezing because of your cover-up smell.

Their appetite is through the fucking roof — all of them, including Price, are an endless bottom-pit; especially if it’s the next day after they’ve transformed. The instant you step through the dining-room, carrying the 4th batch of breakfast burritos which are stuffed with eggs, ham, bacon, sausage, salsa, and a plethora of vegetables, all of them gobble them down within seconds.

Simon, or what you might consider Michael Myers, always follows you. Whilst you’re occupied with the others, either showing them affection or in the kitchen with your back turned, Ghost is behind you, narrowing his golden irises, and sitting on his bum, silently. You always see him when you least expect it, literally giving you a heart attack. Of course, he makes it up with soft nudging in your lower stomach.

Weirdly enough, Johnny has a toe fetish — not in an uncanny, worshiping way. But more in an affectionate, compulsive dog-licking way. His affection can be quite odd. When you don’t have socks on, you can bet your ass, Soap is right beside you, side-eyeing your form before lovingly licking your entire foot wet.

Out of everyone, Simon is rather the most aggressive — Soap being the second. Ghost hates being touched after a day or two of transforming. Not that he doesn’t trust you, he just fears he’ll hurt you.

The last time you touched him, his whining and hurtful sounds of bone cracking concerning you, you gently took off the mouth cuff. He accidentally bit your hand, leaving a huge, bleeding bite mark that left a deep scar. Whenever he lays his head in your lap, he gently laps at your hand – his pleading eyes still apologizing for his mistake.

Gaz is usually calm, usually in the back watching but sometimes joining Johnny; to which, he can sometimes have little shit moments. Especially with stealing things… which comes with your clothes and underwear.

By the time you find him in your closet, sniffing your underwear, with the crotch being chewed out, Kyle has his ears down and avoids eye contact — knowing you’ll yell at him. But how can you deny his cute, puppy face? His eyes are practically begging for you to accept his apology.

—

Masterlist || Please support me as a writer by reblogging or commenting. It helps a bunch!

734 notes · View notes