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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

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That’s When (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part three of Bye Bye, Baby

Part three has arrived! Guys, this was so much fun to write and this part made me so weepy. Thank y’all so much for reading <3

Loosely based on “That’s When” by Taylor Swift ft. Keith Urban xx

Summary: Juliet wants to meet Aaron, so you set it up. Things go better than you were expecting.

Warnings: angst, happy ending!

Word count: 3.7k this time EYE

Bye Bye, Baby (part one) || Don’t You (part two) || Hotch Masterlist

You said, “I know,” when I said I need some time, need some space/to think about all of this

You pour the coffee Aaron got you down the drain. You took maybe two sips on your way home.

Juliet is still with Dannie, but she’s on her way now to drop her off. And once Jules is asleep, you’ll be filling Dannie in on everything.

Easier said than done, because Juliet all but refuses to fall asleep.

“Munchkin,” you sigh. “You have school tomorrow.”

“M’not tired.”

You give her a look.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” She asks out of nowhere. “You look sad.”

“I’m okay, baby,” you whisper, even though you nearly start crying. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“French toast for breakfast?”

You chuckle, tapping her nose gently. “French toast. You got it.”

“Love you bunches,” she murmurs, already falling asleep.

You lean over and kiss her forehead. “Love you, munchkin.”

Juliet keeps her eyes closed as you stand and turn off the light, and you don’t doubt that she’s fast asleep by the time you pull her door closed.

Dannie is waiting on the couch, two glasses of wine already poured.

“You know me too well,” you laugh, taking your glass from her. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, it’s your wine,” Dannie grins.

“Right.”

Dannie watches you stare at your wine. Something you never do.

“How’d it go?” She asks. “It looks like it went bad.”

You snort. “Well, it wasn’t great.”

You watched me go/And I knew my words were hard to hear

“Oh boy.” Dannie shifts her body and faces you on the couch, her legs bent underneath her. “Go on.”

“His first question was if she’s his.”

Dannie scrunches her nose in disgust, an expression Jules has picked up from her. “What did you say?”

“That she’s mine, but he is her dad,” you exhale shakily. “I forgot she has his dimples, too.”

Dannie smiles sadly. “Honey…”

“Yeah, it was bad,” you admit. “It was so easy to forget all of that when I was angry and when I was too busy being pregnant,” you joke. “Seeing him just opened that door again.”

You swirl your wine for a second. “He said he wants to meet her. I told him I’d have to ask her first.”

“That’s good,” Dannie nods.

“How do I even bring that up?” You ask, defeated. “And what if she says no?”

“Then she says no,” Dannie shrugs her shoulders. “Then life goes back the way it was.”

You take in a deep breath. “Is it wrong that I kind of want her to say no?”

“I think that’s very motherly of you,” Dannie smiles. “You’ve protected her so well, I hope you know that.”

“I’ve tried.” You take a big sip of wine before your next sentence. “He asked me for a second chance.”

Dannie blinks. “Seriously?”

You nod.

“Did you tell him about the phone calls? He’s ignored you this whole time and now just because he realized he’s a father, he wants a second chance?” Dannie scoffs loudly. “Maybe I want her to say no, too. I hate men.”

You nearly inhale your wine in laughter. “You and me both.”

+++

As it turns out, bringing up Aaron to Juliet is easy. She asks you the next night why you still look sad, and you use it to bring him up.

“I’m not sad, munchkin, I’m just thinking really hard about something.”

Juliet furrows her eyebrows. “What?”

You slide off the couch to sit on the floor next to her where she’s coloring a picture of Elsa. “Remember how I told you that your dad and I don’t talk anymore?”

It was the easiest way to explain Aaron’s absence when Juliet started to ask about it. It was hard to think about because you and Aaron were never married, he didn’t die, and to make matters worse, he had no idea Juliet existed.

She nods, picking up a blue marker. “Yeah, you said adults have to stop talking to each other sometimes.”

“That’s right,” you nod. “Sometimes it’s better for us if we don’t speak. But sometimes, after a while, we can start talking again.”

“Okay.”’

“Well, your dad and I have started talking again,” you pause. “And he said he’d like to meet you. But only if you want to.”

Juliet thinks for a moment, then shrugs, switching to an orange marker. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” You ask, just to be sure. “Where do you want to go?”

“I can pick?”

“Sure can. Wherever you want.”

“Hmm,” she taps her chin for emphasis, and you try hard not to laugh. “What about McDonalds in the park?”

It’s a somewhat tradition of yours to get McDonalds, then go to her favorite park and have a picnic. It’s one of her favorite things to do, so you should’ve known.

“I love that,” you smile. “What about this Saturday?”

“Mhm!” She nods. “Can Dannie come, too?”

“I’ll ask her, but I don’t see why not.”

Juliet is completely satisfied with this answer and goes right back to coloring Elsa.

You chuckle quietly. Kids.

+++

It’s almost noon by the time you get Juliet in the car. And surprisingly, you were the one running behind today. Juliet was ready and sitting on your bed, watching you get dressed before you had even done your hair.

Now, though, you’ve picked up Dannie, and the three of you are headed to McDonalds.

Juliet hasn’t mentioned meeting Aaron once this morning, but she has talked about McDonalds at least four times now.

“How are you holding up?” Dannie asks while Juliet is occupied singing along to ‘Let It Go.’

“Nervous,” you admit quietly. “Thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t turn down McDonalds any day,” Dannie scoffs, then turns around to Juliet. “Are you excited?”

Listening to the two of them ramble makes you smile wide, and the drive to the park feels infinitely shorter.

You told Aaron you’d text him when you get there, so he can come over. He said he’d already be there, but for what reason you have no clue.

All you care about is setting out the blanket and getting Juliet to eat her food before she plays with her new Frozen toy.

Truthfully, you’re expecting him to text you and say he called on a case. Not that you blame him because you’ve been there, the BAU is unpredictable like that. But you wouldn’t be surprised.

However, you are surprised when Aaron jogs over.

Yes, jogs.

In shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers, with sweat clinging to his hair, he jogs over. And you lose all semblance of reality. There’s cotton in your mouth. Good fucking god, he looks good.

“When the hell did you start running?” It's the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and it’s complete word vomit.

Juliet gasps dramatically. “Bad word, Mommy.”

Dannie tries and fails to hold in her laugh.

“You’re right,” you chuckle. “Bad word.”

Aaron, with a smile, answers your question. “The BAU is having a triathlon. I’m training for it.”

“When is it?” You ask without entirely meaning to. You hate how easily you fall right back into conversation with him, how easily he makes you dumbfounded just by his looks.

“In a few weeks, so I’ve got some time,” he breathes. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head, scooting over. “Here, I got some nuggets.” You ordered enough for the two of you to share, mostly to save money, but now you’re realizing the implications of it.

You don’t have time to think about that, though, because Juliet has been staring at Aaron for a few moments.

“Munchkin?” You ask. Dannie nudges Juliet’s arm.

“Didn’t you hit us in the grocery store?”

Dannie bursts into laughter then, unable to control it this time, and thankfully, Aaron laughs, too.

“I did,” he nods. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Aaron,” Juliet says, going right back to her nuggets, sandwiching fries in between two pieces of chicken.

His eyebrows raise and he looks at you.

All you can do is shrug. “She forgets nothing.”

From there, lunch is...uneventful.

Juliet is more focused on playing than she is talking to Aaron, but thankfully, she doesn’t seem upset by him being here.

Dannie asks him a couple questions, mostly standard ones. “What’s the BAU like? I bet the hours suck. You’re unit chief, too, right?”

Aaron answers everything politely, and seems mostly at ease.

After a while, you begin to relax, too.

You have no choice, really, when Juliet feels comfortable to ask questions like, “Are you really my dad? Why weren’t you talking to my mommy?”

Aaron handles the questions like a pro. “I am. Your mom and I needed some time to ourselves, so that’s why we weren’t talking.”

“Adults are weird,” she says, but she seems satisfied with his answers and even hands him her Olaf toy. “I’m gonna go swing.”

Aaron chuckles and sets Olaf in the shade of his leg. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t melt.”

Juliet tilts her head. “He’s a toy, he won’t melt.”

This time you’re the one incapable of holding in your laughter.

“Dannie, come on!” Juliet yells out, giggling when Dannie nearly trips over her feet to stand up.

As they run off, you start picking up Juliet’s trash and stuffing it back in the bag.

“Here, I’ll run it over to the trash can.”

You turn your head to Aaron with a smirk. “You’ll run it over there? Promise?”

He gives you a look.

He doesn’t actually take it over to the trash can because he goes completely still, then says, “She has my eyes.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah. She does. Your dimples, too.”

He smiles. “Thank god she got your nose, though.”

“What?” You whip your head around. “She has your nose.”

“She does not,” he argues. “And as I said, thank god.”

“Oh, shut up, I love your nose.”

His smile is never-ending. “Really?”

You move on from it quickly. “Thanks for meeting us today.”

“Thank you for letting me.”

You nod slowly, deciding to blurt out what’s been eating at you. “You know, if— If you’re doing this just to get a second chance with me, please don’t.”

“I’m not.”

“Because I don’t need that kind of stress, and Juliet doesn’t either—”

I said, “I know,” when you said I did you wrong/made mistakes, and put you through all of this

“Y/N,” Aaron’s hand rests gently on your arm, getting your attention. He lifts it when you stop talking. “I’m not. I’m doing this because I want to be a part of her life, as her dad. I wasn’t there for her, or you, and I’m sorry. I just want to make it right. Let me make it up to you — to her.”

You stare at him closely, watching. “You mean that?”

He nods. “I do. And I’m so sorry my actions in the past made you think differently of me.”

“I just don’t want her to get hurt,” you murmur. “She’s my baby.”

“I know,” Aaron says. “I know.”

+++

Co-parenting with Aaron is surprisingly easy. Or maybe he makes it easy.

Every Saturday, you and Juliet meet him in the park for a picnic lunch after he’s done training for the triathlon. Sometimes you get there early — which happens nearly every week as Juliet becomes more eager to see him — and you get to cheer Aaron on as he finishes his run.

Dannie comes sometimes, but the few times that she hasn’t have been just as pleasant.

Aaron keeps his word. He does this to spend time with Juliet as her dad, and he doesn’t make any advances on you. The two of you don’t even hug at the end of the afternoon, but Juliet has taken to running and jumping in his arms.

She’s growing more and more attached to him every week, and you hate the dread that you feel. So far, you’ve been lucky. Aaron’s cases have been during the week, so he hasn’t missed a single Saturday — yet.

It’s one of the reasons you are grateful for your transfer at the time four years ago. If you had been in as unpredictable of a job as the BAU when you were pregnant, or when Juliet was born, you have no idea how you would’ve done it. Your job now is a perfect 8 to 5, sometimes 6, but that’s only been a handful of times in the past four years.

Juliet is used to you being there every day. And now, she’s getting used to seeing Aaron every week. You’re just bracing yourself for the time when he has a case and won’t be able to make it.

You try not to think that far ahead, but you can’t help yourself. You were once an agent under him. You know just how crazy the BAU can get. You know exactly what to expect when it gets busy.

Which is why you don’t understand the feelings that are growing inside of you.

You told him he wasn’t getting a second chance — at least not right now. Because you don’t have it in you, and you don’t want to do that to Juliet if it doesn’t work out.

But that was before things started working out.

And you said, “When can I come back?”

Before he never missed a single Saturday. Before he insisted on a birthday dinner when he realized her birthday was a few months ago. Before she started running into his arms. Before he started lifting her up and spinning her around, listening to her giggles as she squealed, “Mommy! I’m flying!” Before she fell asleep on the blanket in the park, and he moved over to shield her from the sun, all while still talking to you.

Now, you don’t know what to do. It sounds awful, but you didn’t expect him to prove himself this well.

You’ve always loved him. That is easy enough to recognize and admit. But you never imagined feeling this way again.

“Mommy?” Juliet pushes your bedroom door open a little.

You sit up, patting your bed. “Good morning, munchkin. C’mere.”

She climbs into bed and right to your side, and you spread the blanket over her, letting her snuggle into your side.

After a moment, you think she’s asleep, but then she whispers, “Are you and dad going to stop talking again?”

You freeze. Up until now, Juliet has called him “Aaron.” Obviously, she knows Aaron is her dad, but she’s never called him that.

“Why do you ask that, baby?” You murmur, kissing the top of her head.

“I don’t want you guys to stop talking again. I like hanging out with him.” She buries her head further into your chest. “He makes me laugh.”

Tears fill your eyes. “He makes me laugh, too.”

“I know,” she smiles into your shirt. “He looks at you a lot.”

“What?”

“When you’re not looking,” she whispers, half-asleep again. “He smiles a lot. He has dimples like me.”

“He does,” you smile softly, wiping your tears away.

+++

The day of the triathlon, Juliet is more than eager to get to the park to cheer Aaron on.

You, on the other hand, feel like you could throw up from the thought of it.

Aaron told you the rest of the team will be there, and you’re grateful for the heads up, but you’re also nervous as shit. You haven’t seen them since your send off party. You haven’t texted with Penelope and Derek in...probably two years now.

He said he didn’t tell the team you’re coming because he didn’t want you to feel pressured, but he also warned you that the team has been questioning him nonstop if he’s seeing someone. He said he’s told them that he isn’t, but of course, they think he’s lying.

Dannie comes with to the triathlon, mainly because Juliet asked her to. It’s been a few days since Juliet has seen Dannie because she was out of town for work, but now she’s back, so Juliet wants her around all the time again.

You’re grateful for Dannie’s presence once again to calm your nerves and offer distractions at every second.

Surprisingly, you don’t see the team anywhere when you arrive, so you, Juliet, and Dannie set up your chairs and blanket peacefully. It’s a while before Aaron will be over here for the run, the last part of the triathlon, so Juliet breaks out her coloring book at your and Dannie’s feet.

You and Dannie spend the wait while idly talking, and after about an hour, the first cheers begin echoing out.

Juliet perks up with the noise. “Is that dad?”

Dannie’s eyes snap to yours and she mouths, “Did she?”

You nod, smiling stupidly. It brings you way more joy to hear Juliet freely call Aaron her dad. Way more joy than you thought.

“Maybe,” you stand up and reach for Juliet’s hand. “Let’s go see.”

Juliet grabs your hand and starts tugging you toward the front, and Dannie follows with a laugh, watching you get drug away by a four-year-old.

A few runners are passing by, but none of them are Aaron. Juliet is watching impatiently, and squeals when Dannie lifts her up onto her shoulders.

“Can you see now, munchkin?” You ask, your hand resting gently on her back, even though Dannie is holding onto her ankles.

Juliet nods. “I see him!”

You look down the way, and you see him, too.

Your lips split into a grin almost immediately. His black shorts, black t-shirt, with his number pinned to the front. His hair is slick with sweat, and yet, you still have a burning desire to run your fingers through it.

Aaron moves to the side, running right next to you, giving Juliet a high five on his way by, and you, too, only when his fingers graze yours, he squeezes.

As soon as he crosses the finish line, Juliet is scrambling out of Dannie’s arms, and when she hits the ground, she runs.

You’re running after her, Dannie too, calling her name, because she really shouldn’t run off like that.

But your nerves calm down the second you see Juliet jumping into her dad’s arms.

Slowing to a walk, you shake your head with a smile as Aaron spins her around, squeezing her tightly.

“Hey,” he says when he sees you. “I’m glad you guys could make it.”

“Me too,” you smile. “She wouldn’t let me miss it,” you nod toward Juliet.

“You’re smelly,” Juliet says out of nowhere, pinching her nose.

Dannie laughs loudly at her comment as Aaron sets her down. But despite her comment, she doesn’t move from next to him.

“Is that who I think it is?” Derek Morgan’s voice floats through your ears.

You turn around to face him, putting your hands on your hips. “Depends, who do you think it is?”

Derek grins wide. “Come here, you.”

You hug him tightly, and over his shoulder you see everyone else, all with shocked looks on their faces. JJ, Emily, Penelope, Spencer, and Rossi, too.

After giving out hugs all around, you look back to see Juliet still clinging to Aaron’s leg.

“Who is this?” Morgan asks quietly, kneeling down to Juliet’s level. “Hey there.”

She eyes him skeptically. “Hi.”

“Munchkin, this is Derek. He’s a friend, too.”

Derek waves.

“Do you like Frozen?” Juliet asks.

Derek nods seriously. “I love it.”

“Hmph,” she wraps her arm tighter around Aaron’s leg. The sight makes you want to crumble. She looks up at Aaron, and says, “Dad?” To get his attention.

Everyone stills. Even Derek.

“Yes, honey?” Aaron replies, kneeling down, too.

“Are they your friends, too?”

He nods. “We’re all really good friends.”

She shrugs. “Okay.” She looks around at everyone, and gasps when she sees Penelope. “I like your bracelet!”

Penelope looks down at it with a smile. “You wanna try it on?”

Juliet practically sprints toward Penelope with a dramatic nod.

While the two of them are playing with Pen’s jewelry, everyone else is looking at you and Hotch with blatantly shocked expressions.

“We’ll explain later,” you offer. “But the answer is yes.”

Rossi, bless him, breaks the awkward, silent tension. “Is anyone else starving?”

You laugh some nerves away. “Yeah, I am. We just need to go pack up our stuff.”

“I can help,” Aaron says.

“Okay, yeah,” you nod, glancing over at Juliet, but her, Penelope, JJ, and Emily are now sitting in the grass, talking animatedly about Frozen.

“I’ll stay over here,” Dannie says, nudging your arm.

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying to hide your dumb smile at the thought of being alone with Aaron, even if for only a few seconds.

Regardless, you try to keep your cool when you turn back to him. “We’re just over here.”

“Lead the way,” he gestures ahead.

You ignore all efforts to hide your smile now as you start walking. He falls into step beside you, his sweaty shoulder brushing yours, but you don’t mind.

And against all of your better judgement, you slide your hand into his.

His surprised look is priceless, and you can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes you. “What? Am I not allowed to make the first move?”

You don’t know if the red on his cheeks is from running or blushing. “No, no, you’re allowed.”

“Good,” you murmur, walking a little closer. Your things are far too close for your liking. You want to walk with him like this for longer.

When you stop next to your chairs, you don’t let go of his hand. He doesn’t let go, either.

“Can I ask something?” He says, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.”

He steps closer, his toes nearly touching yours. “If you make the first move, am I allowed to make the second?”

You can’t help the violent swarm of butterflies in your stomach. “I think that’s how that works.” You pause, tilting your head, gesturing to how close your feet are. “Was that your move?”

He shakes his head. “No. This is.”

That’s when, when I saw your face/You let me in, and baby, that’s when

Aaron’s free hand holds your jaw as he kisses you in the same tender, gentle way that he used to, only this one has four years’ worth of apologies in every touch. You let go of his hand to smooth your hands on his chest, his neck, any place you can touch because it’s been too long. Way too long.

That’s when I want you/That’s when I love you/That’s when

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sunfish-studies · 3 years

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Moonrise

✄・・・ Feathery Ink [Karasuno Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Karasuno x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: none

➜ Notes: This is a separate series from Crisp Leaves. Similar to Crisp Leaves, manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall. This is just my appreciation towards tall girls, you guys are amazing.

Previous: ‹ Greed › | Next: ‹ Illusionary Hero ›

↷ SUMMARY ↶

It’s finally summer vacation training camp!

After the fight, Hinata and Kageyama weren’t really talking to each other–Coach Ukai even separated them during practice, Hinata in team B while Kageyama in the other. When practice was over, Kageyama was working on his tosses with Yachi’s help while Hinata drive elsewhere with his bike to practice on his own.

“Ah, he’s with my grandpa.” You asked where on earth did Hinata go, and that’s your answer from Coach Ukai. Apparently, Hinata was training with the previous Coach Ukai at their home. That left you with managerial duties and some extras like buying supplies for the training camp.

The injury you received of course was noticeable by the team–it almost send both Tanaka and Nishinoya into rampage, but you quickly said it’s not a problem and it would heal in no time. While you could make up some excuse for Daichi, Sugawara, and Ennoshita, you couldn’t with Shimizu. With a stern look from, you finally spilled the beans and she promised not to tell anyone.

While Kageyama wasn’t talking to Hinata, he’s definitely talking to you more now–along with walking you home if you chose to stay at practice longer. With that, you learn more about him and how he’s undoubtedly a volley ball dork through and through.

The time you had to depart from school to Tokyo for the training camp at night, he offered to picked up from your house so you could walk together to school.

“C-can I sit next to you…?” the raven-haired boy asked. Of course, you agreed wholeheartedly since Yachi will be sitting next to Shimizu and sitting alone didn’t seem to be fun. At first, you talked about some mundane things and watched a few videos saved in your phone before falling asleep leaning to each other.

“KAGEYAMA!!”

“HOW DARE YOU STEAL A HEADSTART!”

And it incurred the wrath of both Tanaka and Nishinoya when they realized. Thankfully, Ennoshita was quick to shut them up by slapping them on the head and Daichi glared at them menacingly for causing a ruckus.

“Well, the grand guest finally arrived,” when you carried the big bag filled with your essentials outside the bus, it was immediately gone from your hands. Kuroo plucked it from your grip so he could carry it instead, sending you a small smile.

“Kuroo-san, it’s been a while.” Greeting the older boy, you stepped to the ground.

“It’s nice knowing you stick to your promise,”

“Well, it’s impossible for me to not join the training camp. And,” you looked up to the building upon the stairs. When it was in Nekoma High School before, this time training camp was held at different area–however, you didn’t complain because even during summer, the place was cool with many trees surrounding and breeze swept by. “Why are we in a different place? I thought it’s being held only in one place.”

Kuroo hummed. “It’s a tradition for training camp during summer vacation happened in Shinzen. This place is cool, so it’s great. Why? You wanted to be cooked under the sun instead?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Hinata! Did you grow any taller!? Oh! Otohaku-chan!! You’re looking pretty as always!!”

“Lev, shut up.” Kenma scolded.

“[NAME]-CHAN!! Make sure to cheer for me, alright!!”

“She won’t, Bokuto-san. And please don’t call her by her first name when she didn’t mention you could.”

Thank goodness, Akaashi had a say because you didn’t know how to reply that without wanting to upset Bokuto in the process. The first match was Karasuno against Fukurodani and it didn’t go well–your team splendidly didn’t sync because everyone went to try the new moves their practicing, resulting they had to take a new kind of penalty.

Along with Yachi, you watch as everyone sprinting uphill. And it didn’t happen only one time, every time they lost a match, they had to do one before walking down and downing their drinks. It went until the last practice–which they splendidly managed to lost.

“Hitoka-chan, could you look over Kageyama-kun and Hinata-kun in my place,” you whispered to your best friend, referring to the duo who’s clearly itching for practice but couldn’t exactly say it clearly as they still in bad terms with each other.

“Yeah! I was thinking about that too!” the two of you nodded in determination.

“Uhm, [Name]-san,” Yamaguchi called out to you, rubbing his nape sheepishly. “I want to practice serve, could you watch over?”

Smiling you nodded, “Sure Yamaguchi-kun! Let me get my notes first, okay?”

The taller boy blinked in confusion. “Eh? Notes? What for?”

“To look over your progress overall,” you kneeled down to put on your outdoor shoes. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“O-oh, okay.” Yamaguchi could only reply that as he didn’t know how exactly–he knew he shouldn’t be flustered or feeling special, but he couldn’t help to feel warmth bloom in his chest. He knew you were an attentive person, and it’s nice to know that applied to everyone on the team even though you’re mostly stick with Kageyama, Hinata, or Yachi.

Jogging towards the sleeping quarters, you could’ve arrived faster to pick up your notebook if Bokuto’s call didn’t halt you from doing so.

“OOH!! [NAME]-CHAN!!” he called out from the third gym. You noticed that he wasn’t alone, Kuroo and Akaashi’s also there and surprisingly Tsukishima. From that, you concluded that Kuroo must have something to do with it–probably taunting the blonde into joining. “Could you throw us some balls!?”

“Eh?” you blinked. “But, I have to get some notes for practice-“

“Just a few, come on!” Bokuto didn’t even give you a chance to explain–instead, he dragged you by the wrist.

So here you were, arranging an apology speech for Yamaguchi while throwing some balls for Akaashi to set. That and giving Lev some glances to check if he’s still alive or not on the floor. The setter already apologized to you in Bokuto’s place, but you immediately dismissed it since you didn’t mind either.

“Geh!? Otohaku-chan!?” Lev must be exhausted seeing as he barely noticed you’re in the same area.

It amazed you on how Bokuto still managed to kill the spikes viciously after series of practice match all day–his stamina is top-notch, nothing less from one of the best players in the country. Watching Bokuto’s spikes meaning also watching Tsukishima tried to block them.

Not once did he managed to successfully shut one out, but with Kuroo’s finally joining the cross was killed almost in an instant. While Bokuto is a formidable opponent in attacking, then Kuroo would be terrifying in defense. No wonder Coach Ukai was making him a great example for a solid blocker.

Tsukishima is indeed smart and calm as he read the opponent’s movement, but,

“Your blocks are pretty weak.” You flinched as Bokuto blurted out what you had in mind regarding Tsukishima’s block–and it sure pissed the taller blonde off. “Your arms are so frail that I’m scared I’m gonna break them. You need to stop the ball like you mean it!”

“I’m still a growing boy!” Tsukishima replied, clearly trying to hide his annoyance. “I’ve just started gaining muscles and getting taller!”

“Talk like that, and the little shrimp is gonna hog all the glory.” Kuroo remarked. “You guys play the same position, right?”

Ouch, you couldn’t help but thought. That hits the sore spot.

“I don’t think it can be helped,” Tsukishima said with a smile after a few seconds of silence. “The difference in natural talent between me and Hinata is too great.”

Before Kuroo could argue, the players of Nekoma began piling into the gym and Tsukishima finally managed to excuse himself successfully this time.

“Looks like you stepped on a mine, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi commented.

“You pissed him off,” Bokuto dragged. “At long last, Kuroo-kun, the master of provocation, has failed.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have thought that.” The black-haired captain sighed.

“Thought what?” Bokuto questioned.

“Karasuno’s shrimp is definitely strange and a threat, but in terms of technique and experience he’s like a baby bird. Plus, he’s really short. I never would’ve thought guy with glasses, who’s far taller and much smarter, wouldn’t only think they’re not equal but actually think the shrimp is above his level.”

Sighing for the second time, he rubbed the back of his head before giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, I pissed off your middle blocker.”

“I don’t think you pissed him off,” you couldn’t exactly say that it’s fine because it’s not your place to do so. “But you did hit a sore spot, Kuroo-san.”

“Otohaku-san, shouldn’t you get going? We’ve hold you long enough from you whatever you want to do.” Akaashi reminded.

“That’s right, then I’ll excuse myself.” You bowed down and walked towards the exit–you immediately retrieve your note before finally helping Yamaguchi with his serves after being held for some time.

The next day, you’re helping Eri, Kaori, and Yukie cutting watermelons given by the parents from Shinzen High School. Surely, on this hot summer, sweet and cool watermelons would make anyone’s mouth began watering. It was also a great short break for the boys as they enjoy the watermelon while sitting on the grassy hill beside the gym.

“Do you want extras, senpai?” and just like other managers, you distributed the watermelons while asking if the boys wanted seconds or not. This time, you’re offering a few that’s still on your tray to Tanaka, Daichi, and Asahi.

“Ooh, don’t mind if I do, [Name]-chan!” Tanaka reached out for another slice.

“Me too,” after him, Daichi also took a slice from your tray.

“I’m okay with mine for now,” Asahi politely rejected your offer. “How about you eat some too? It’s quite a hot day.”

“I’ll go it after everyone’s seconds are done,” you remarked, intending to circle around the separate crowds for the nth time but Tanaka quickly interrupted.

“Everybody has their share already! I’m sure they don’t mind.” Your upperclassman commented. “Besides, our beautiful manager deserves to have rest!”

“Somehow, it doesn’t correlate…” Asahi muttered, smiling nervously.

At the end, you ended up sitting down beside Asahi and munching on a slice of watermelon. Your upperclassman was right for one thing–enjoying the fruit in a hot summer day was a great way to cool down, you instantly felt refreshed.

“Sorry, by the way.” The four of you looked up to the call, seeing Kuroo approaching and out of blue apologizing. Surely, your upperclassmen were confused with this except you.

“About what?” Daichi questioned.

“I think I might have pissed off your glasses guy yesterday.”

“What?”

To make it clearer, the cat captain sat down with his back towards you and began explaining the situation occurred the other day–you admired how both parties didn’t once interrupt nor getting things heated up, they knew this wasn’t something big and could be resolved by just a simple apology.

“Wow… Tsukishima actually helped out with free practice even if you cornered him into it,” Daichi hummed in understanding.

“Your manager too, but that’s Bokuto’s idea,” you didn’t know why on earth Kuroo decided to brough it up but seeing your upperclassmen were nonchalant about it (except maybe Tanaka, though he was quickly being shut up by Daichi) it’s also not a big deal.

“So, what did you say?”

“I provoked him and said he was going to lose to your shrimp over there.”

“I’ve definitely noticed that Tsukishima seems to feel inferior to Hinata somehow.” Asahi remarked, probably remembering a few words Tsukishima said to him.

“I’m not sure if this is relevant, but my sister mentioned someone tall named Tsukishima also joined the volleyball team during the Little Giant times.” Tanaka mentioned, surely this is new to all of you because Tsukishima wasn’t the type of person who talks about himself much.

Daichi’s head perked up. “Tsukishima has an older brother?”

“Oh, I’m not sure.” Tanaka quickly replied. “They could’ve just had the same last name and not be related. Do you know anything about this, [Name]-chan?”

“I don’t, but if I know, I think it’s not my place to tell since Tsukishima-kun would undoubtedly be annoyed because of it,” you answered, which made Tanaka hummed in agreement.

“Hey, we’re about to start!” Sugawara called out.

You didn’t know about Tsukishima having a sibling or not, however,

“This is just a club. Why do you put so much into it? It’s because you put so much into it that you suffer later.”

You couldn’t help but think it’s somehow related to what he muttered the night before.

Yet again when the sky softly bathed in orange glow, Karasuno had to pay their losing with penalty–you along with Yachi and Shimizu also Takeda-sensei and Coach Ukai watched as the boys bolted uphill accompanied by yelling (well, this was mostly Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, and Nishinoya).

“Here,” you offered a water bottle for Kageyama. He couldn’t even reply a ‘thank you’ from how harshly he was panting and you could only sympathize with him–more than five matches in a day plus penalties were rough.

“Thanks,” the raven-haired boy finally rasped after downing probably a half of the water from the bottle. You also handed him a towel so he could wipe away the sweat dripping down from his temple.

“So, how’s training going?” you finally asked, which triggered a sighed from him.

“No progress.” The frustration was getting to him definitely–while you were only watching for some time since Yachi’s already there to help him, you understood that Kageyama failed more than he succeeded. He knew he was getting nowhere and time was short, if he’s not geared up it will be a problem.

“I can’t give you any helpful advice but I think you should practice under Coach Ukai’s watch,” you mentioned, and Kageyama listened carefully. “He probably has ways that could help you. You couldn’t do this on your own Kageyama-kun, you need guidance.”

Nodding firmly, he replied. “Yeah.”

“I can’t wait to see your toss,” you then added, giving him a smile. “It’s going to be amazing for sure. You did pinpoint toss to Hinata all this time.”

The boy fell silent for a while, and you almost regretted saying those words–did you somehow step on a landmine? Did you piss him off? Did you touch the nerve-

“I promise to get done and you’ll see it.” The negative thoughts were gone from your mind as you stare at those blue eyes filled with determination. You found yourself smiling at his promise.

“I will be waiting then.”

“Sensei, what do you think of Tsukishima?” Coach Ukai asked your advisor while the five of you were watching the match between Karasuno and Ubugawa.

“I think he’s taking this seriously,” Takeda-sensei answered, although rather confused from the question.

“How about you, Otohaku?” and you didn’t expect to be involve in the conversation also.

“Uhm… he’s doing his work, but lack of effort? I think he’s not giving his all.” you replied but somehow became an unsure question in the end.

“You’re right,” Coach Ukai remarked. “I feel like Tsukishima gets a passing grade but never tries for 100%. I’m not asking for him to become more passionate, but if he’s not going to give his all, I’m gonna have to change regulars. I need players who can win a match on the court. He’s the tallest and essential to the team. If Tsukishima could become a strong blocker, our defense level would go up a lot.”

“I see,” Takeda-sensei nodded in understanding.

Not long into the game after Tsukishima served, there’s a collision between Daichi and Nishinoya for the ball–at first, it was nerve-wracking because if one of them was hurt it could be bad. However, seeing that the two dismissed it as if it was nothing was relieving.

“Everyone’s so motivated.” Yachi commented.

“Everyone’s more motivated now than I’ve ever seen them before,” Shimizu frowned in worry. “But sometimes it’s almost scary. Collisions like the other day can definitely lead to major injuries.”

Another spike went through but received perfectly by Kageyama, the ball bounced to the air and Tanaka was the second one to get it, passing it immediately to Asahi.

“It’s a little short,” you muttered, noticing the ball was hovering near the net–exactly to where Hinata was. From how he’s staring at it, he’s most likely to steal it–but then he tensed up, snapped his head to the side to give Asahi a stare and stayed in his place in the end.

“Let him know the ball is yours.”

You stared as Asahi successfully killed the ball even with three blockers–grinning from how he stole a score and holding them team together so it wouldn’t become lawless. The attempt was enough for you to let your shoulders relaxed.

“Maybe I didn’t need to worry after all.” Shimizu sighed in relief.

Asahi turned to face you, giving you a smile and an outstretched fist–you immediately returned it with the exact same gesture.

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

Say Mercy (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: When Deku bets Shinsou that he can win in a tickle fight against him, Shinsou takes him up on the offer to find out.

A/N: YES YES YES!! This isn't officially ShinDeku but it's those two boys tickling each other and I liiiiive for this! I was so excited to finally write for them again! Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 2,302

~~~

“Oh, give me a break,” Shinsou groaned, letting out a defeated sigh. His character spun off the track and had to be rescued, costing him precious seconds as Kaminari’s character whizzed by him into third place. “Dang it, I was actually doing well that time.”

Kami smirked, eyes glued to the screen. “Sorry, bro. Peach waits for no man!”

“She waits for Mario,” Deku pointed out.

“Details.”

The three of them were seated in the living room, having claimed the TV for the night in 1-A’s dorms. Deku was finally getting his wish to become better friends with the purple-haired boy. He’d been elated when his phone had buzzed with a text from him asking if he wanted to join in on some Mario Kart, and he nearly broke another bone in his haste to get to the living room. Kami had seemed concerned, but Shinsou looked amused.

Now they were on their final race in a four-race grand prix, and Kaminari was dominating them both. Deku was content to hang out in fourth and fifth place, but he did feel bad for Shinsou, who had gradually gotten better with each new track until he’d finally claimed third for the first two laps of the last race, only to be thwarted with a red shell.

Kami crossed the line in second, with Shinsou in fourth and Deku in seventh. The electric hero pumped his fists in the air. “Yeah, baby! Gold trophy!”

Deku and Shinsou exchanged amused glances.

“Just wait, Kaminari,” Deku said, grinning. “One of these days Shinsou is going to catch up to you and then you’ll be eating those words. And his dust.”

“Sure, sure.” Kami waved his hand, unbothered. “But I’m going to enjoy the moment while it lasts. I always lose against Bakugou; you gotta let me have this, Midoriya.” Just then his phone buzzed, and he let out a groan of his own. “Ah, crap. Speaking of Bakugou, I promised him and the others I’d study with them tonight. Stupid math, anyway.” He got to his feet and waved, heading out of the living room. “Night, guys. Have fun fighting for last place.”

“Rude!” Deku laughed, waving him out. “Go on. See you tomorrow.”

Then – for the first time – it was just Shinsou and Deku.

“Um,” Shinsou started, “perhaps I should head out, too. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“What? No! You’re more than welcome,” Deku said hurriedly, worried he wouldn’t get the opportunity to talk with his newest friend one-on-one. “Want to do another grand prix? We can knock it down from that 200cc insanity to something more manageable. I’m sure you can get first place if it’s a little easier.”

“With a handicap, you mean.”

“No!” Crap, think about your words, Deku! “No, I just mean that it might be smarter to start with something a little easier, that way you can work your way up. You can beat him on 200cc eventually, I just thought—”

“Midoriya,” Shinsou said, stopping his rambling with a smile. “I was kidding. Relax.”

“Oh. R-Right. Sorry.”

Shinsou chuckled, picking up his controller. “Let’s try 100cc. That way I’m not starting from the complete bottom of the Mario Kart ladder.”

“You know, you might be really good at Sonic racing instead,” Deku suggested, swapping out his player three controller for the player one controller Kami had left behind. “It’s a little more involved, but it’s also technique based more than just random luck. I think you’d be great at it.”

“Sonic has a racing game?”

“Well, yeah. It’s Sonic.”

“I suppose that’s a good point.”

From there the two of them settled into conversation with ease, discussing everything from video games to schoolwork to Shinsou’s latest run-in with Bakugou.

“I can’t believe Kacchan agreed to owe you a favor. He hates owing favors.”

“I got the sense that he was desperate, even if he wasn’t saying as much. It’s satisfying, honestly. I wasn’t going to tell anyone anyway, but it feels good to put that hothead in his place.”

Deku’s lips twitched in a small smile. “The only time I’ve ever really been able to ‘put him in his place’ is when we have tickle fights.”

“You have tickle fights with that maniac?”

“He’s my oldest friend, so it kind of comes with the territory. But it’s fun, too. I like it.”

Shinsou paused for a moment, not reacting at all to the fact that his character once again got knocked from first to fourth with a blue shell. “Sorry. I should be more sensitive. I didn’t know you two were such good friends.”

“Well…” Deku sighed. “We’re not good friends, really. But we’re not enemies either. It’s kind of weird.” He did his best to explain his current standing with Bakugou.

“I see.” Shinsou nodded. “Well, even so, I’ll try to be more delicate in the future. Despite my grievances, I know he does have friends in these dorms, as do I.”

Deku smiled at him, taking his eyes from the screen for a moment to observe his profile. “So you’re making friends after all, Mr. I’m-not-here-to-make-friends?”

“I wasn’t lying.” Shinsou smirked. “But you are nothing if not persistent individuals. You and Kaminari, especially. But…I’m grateful. It feels good to have people actually want to hang out with me.”

Deku went silent for a moment. He could only imagine the kind of social isolation Shinsou went through because of his quirk. He thought back to their fight at the sports festival. How genuinely angry and upset Shinsou had been. He wished he knew what to say, but before he could formulate a response, the boy from 1-C was changing the subject.

“So you and Bakugou have tickle fights, eh? Who wins those?”

“Um…m-mostly Kacchan.”

“I wonder why.”

Deku eyed him again. “Are you saying you don’t think I can win them?”

“Not against him, certainly.”

“I’ve won before! Once or twice…”

“How many times has he won?”

“Look, the number’s not important. What’s important is that we have fun.”

Shinsou laughed, and it was such a surprise the sound actually startled Deku for a moment. “I suppose that’s all that matters, right?”

Feeling emboldened by the conversation and that laugh, Deku challenged, “I bet I could win a tickle fight against you.”

“Oh?” Shinsou crossed the finish line, then turned to look at Deku, who suddenly grew nervous as he waited to cross a few places behind. “Bold words, Midoriya.”

Having finished the race, Deku turned to look at him, suddenly feeling flustered. “I-I mean…since I’ve tickled you before, and I know where your worst spot is already. I just feel like I’d have an advantage…” He trailed off. He knew where Bakugou’s worst spot was, too, but that rarely helped him win those tickle fights.

“I suppose I have been curious how ticklish you actually are, since I’ve never seen it for myself. I’ve only heard stories. Do you seriously get tickled almost every day in this class?”

“U-Um…y-yeah, I do. But I don’t mind.”

Shinsou smirked. “Which means you like it.”

Deku could feel himself blushing now. “Yeah.”

“All right, Midoriya,” Shinsou said, shifting in such a way that the green-haired boy instinctively scrambled back, blushing even harder when his friend chuckled. “I want in. You think you can win a tickle fight against me? How much are you willing to wager?”

“Um…” Deku scrambled to think of something. “I-I don’t know…what do you want?”

“A thousand yen says I win.”

“Oh, yeah? W-Well…two thousand says I win!”

“You’re that confident? Very well. Quirks or no quirks?”

Deku froze. “N-No quirks. It’s not because I’m afraid of you, I just—”

“It’s okay, Midoriya. No quirks is actually advantageous for me, since mine doesn’t help me physically.” Shinsou smirked, pushing his controller aside. “Ready?”

“Y-Yeah. Ready.”

Deku barely had the words out before Shinsou was on him, shoving him to the floor with surprising speed and strength, wiggling his fingers into his sides.

“Eeep! Ahahahahahahaha, nohohohohohoho!” Deku giggled, trying to bat Shinsou’s hands away. “No fahahahahahahair! There wasn’t eheheheheheven a countdohohohown!”

“I asked if you were ready, and you said yes,” Shinsou replied calmly, grinning at the mess he’d made of 1-A’s most promising student, all with just a couple of light scribbles. “If you were lying, that’s your own fault.”

“G-Gehehehehehet off!” Deku squealed, reaching up to squeeze Shinsou’s ribs, pleased with the bright smile he got in response. He squeezed harder, willing himself to reach both hands up despite the continuing tickle attack on his own sides. “Get ohohohohohohoff!”

“N-No,” Shinsou grunted, obviously fighting back giggles of his own. He was tempted to reach for what he knew was a good spot, but decided against it for the moment. There would be plenty of time for that later. Right now he wanted to get to know every weak spot he could. He darted his own fingers up to Deku’s ribs and vibrated. “Heh, h-how’s it feel, Midoriya?”

“Fihihihihihihihine!” Deku shoved his hands up under Shinsou’s arms in retaliation. The purple-haired boy retracted his hands to bring his arms in protectively, giving Deku the opening he needed to push him over and grab at every ticklish spot he could think of. Ribs, sides, belly. He went for them all in rapid succession. “W-What about you, Shinsou? A little ticklish, huh?”

“D-Don’t – you cahahahan’t act like y-yohohou don’t already knohohow!” Shinsou protested, curling up into the fetal position on the floor, chuckling into the carpet.

“Why? Does it fluster you when I do that?” Deku used the opportunity to grab at his friend’s knees and squeeze. Shinsou kicked his legs out so hard in response he almost took Deku out with them. “Whoa!”

“S-Sohohorry,” Shinsou giggled, batting at the hands that had returned to his sides.

“Bad spot?”

“Nohohot really. Just surprised mehehehehe.”

“You’re not really fighting back, you know~” Deku teased, amused by the realization. “Do you want to owe me two thousand yen?”

“Juhuhuhust indulging a lihihihihittle. Dohohohon’t worry…” Shinsou suddenly shot upright and dug into Deku’s underarms. “I’ll still win this tickle fight!”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Deku screeched, falling back onto the floor with laughter bursting from his lungs. “NOHOHOHOHOHO!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!!”

“Ooh~ Bad spot?”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“No? You sure? You seem like you’re lying.” Shinsou grabbed one of Deku’s wrists and pinned it above his head, drilling deep into his underarm with his free hand.

Deku shrieked, tossing his head back and laughing unabashedly. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! SHIHIHIHIHIHIHINSOU!!” He desperately tried to grab at any ticklish spot he could with his other arm. He managed to succeed in scribbling against Shinsou’s side, causing the taller boy to choke out a giggle and unpin him so he could fight back.

Without really thinking about it, Deku sat up and grabbed his hips, digging in deep.

Shinsou burst into his own round of laughter, grasping at Deku’s wrists and trying to push him away while also desperately trying to keep from falling over again. “NONONO – NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHERE YOU CHEHEHEHEHEATER!!”

“Cheater? There was no rule against worst spots, Shinsou.” Deku grinned, feeling a rush of happy satisfaction at having made Shinsou laugh so freely without even needing to pin him down first. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

“SHUT UP!! DOHOHOHOHOHON’T TEHEHEHEASE ME, MIDORIYAHAHAHA!!” Shinsou flailed for a few moments more before grabbing Deku’s hips as well. “TAKE THIS!!”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Now Deku was laughing hysterically as well, trying to fight his attacker off while still keeping up his own tickling assault. “YOU JEHEHEHEHEHEHERK!!”

“YOU STAHAHAHAHAHAHARTED IT!!”

It was a hilarious sight, the two of them tickling each other’s hips in the middle of the living room floor, Mario Kart long forgotten on the TV behind them, laughing loudly and desperately trying to push each other off. In the end, it came down to which of them was more ticklish, and soon the tides began to turn in Shinsou’s favor.

“HA!! CAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T LAHAHAHAHAST FOREVER, CAN YOHOHOHOHOU, MIDORIYA?!”

“NOHOHOHOHOOOOO!!” Deku whined as he finally relented his own attack to focus on defense, grabbing Shinsou’s wrists and trying to push him away. “NO FAHAHAHAHAHAHAIR!!”

“I can’t help it if you’re just that ticklish,” Shinsou teased, still smiling uncontrollably as he finally managed to push Deku to the floor and straddle him, kneading into his hips deeply. “Much better. This is how I suspected this would end.”

Deku fought for a few more moments, then finally gave up and relented, kicking his legs wildly and holding onto Shinsou’s wrists weakly, feeling the muscles in his hands move as they tickled him, only making him more sensitive. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FIHIHIHIHIHIHIHINE!! FINE YOU WIHIHIHIHIHIHIN!! I GIHIHIHIHIHIVE UP!!”

Shinsou smirked, feeling a rush of satisfaction at his friend’s desperate cries. “Say mercy.”

“MEHEHEHEHEHEHERCY!! MERCY, MERCYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!”

For a long moment, Shinsou kept up his assault, not saying a word, making Deku shriek with ticklish panic at the fleeting thought that maybe he wouldn’t stop after all. But then, finally, it was all over, and he could breathe again. He gulped in large doses of oxygen greedily, reaching up to wipe the corners of his eyes where mirthful tears had started to form.

“You okay?” Shinsou asked, chuckling a little at the sight.

Deku sputtered out some leftover giggles and sat up. “Y-Yeah. I’m good.”

“You owe me two thousand yen.”

“Jeez, you don’t waste any time, do you, Shin?”

Shin? The boy from 1-C smiled a little at the nickname. “Not if I can help it, no. Told you I’d take you down.”

“In a tickle fight, maybe,” Deku conceded, picking up his player one controller and brandishing it with a new kind of challenging spark in his eye. “But I bet you still can’t win gold even on 100cc!”

Shinsou laughed, grabbing his own controller and knocking it against Deku’s like they were doing a fist-bump. “You’re on.”

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #izuku #midoriya #deku #hitoshi #shinsou #shindeku #video games #tickle fight #cute #fluff #tickling #ticklish #tickle

150 notes · View notes

mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Incredible

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Professor!Spencer sparks a connection with a spunky student. Category: FLUFF (of the spicy variety, so I’d rate it PG-13) Warnings: Adults with age gap (Reader is in her early 20s), language, flirting, making out, a brief mention of oral sex Word Count: 8.7k

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

Full Request: “...Okay so prof/student, and reader is so badass, has tattoos, flirt all the time, but like hate everybody except spencer, and he loves that she is so different, intriguing, dark and touchy? But like everyone in spencer life thinks that she’s using him, because of her grades, and also because they are “so different” but like they love each other, so she makes a big gesture and says fuck all of you, I love him and it’s the only thing that matters, and spencer is like heart eyes” —Anonymous

NOTE: My first go at Professor!Spencer! This is a favorite trope of mine, so I loved finally getting to delve into it myself. I hope I did it justice! Also, the original title for this was “Bad For You” and it was supposed to be a little different, but it went in a different direction than I was intending. I still hope it’s okay though!

***

Truthfully, the first time she showed up in his classroom he had a feeling. It was a feeling he didn't get very often, therefore he wasn't sure what to make of it. All he knew was that when she sat down in the front row, all the way on the right, keeping to herself, he just felt that there was something special about her.

The obvious reasoning behind this newfound feeling was most likely the multiple tattoos that adorned her skin, and the flashy, attention-grabbing makeup that surrounded her eyes and lips, but as the semester progressed, Spencer started to realize her academic confidence was taking hold of most of his attention. Sure, she stood out in the crowd, completely different from anyone else who'd entered his classroom, and without a doubt one of the most stunning women he'd ever seen. But rather than scrolling through her phone while waiting for class to start each morning, she brought out a book to read or notes to study or something else to keep her busy. If anything else, yes, he admired her work ethic, at least what he could see of it.

And as time progressed, he'd come to see her succeeding more in his class than almost anyone else. Under normal circumstances, it would have been all good and plenty, but as it turned out, Y/N was anything but normal.

The first... incident happened not long after the first week of the semester, and a group of other girls were sitting next to Y/N. Class would start in close to five minutes, and students were still filing in while the group was having a rather... interesting conversation.

Spencer had had a feeling about what it was pertaining to, but his suspicions were confirmed the second he heard Y/N's voice, loud and clear.

"For the love of God, if you're gonna talk about him like he's a hot piece of ass right in front of him, you might as well shout it from the rooftops."

He looked up to see she hadn't lifted her head from the book she was reading as she said it, flipping a page half-way through her tangent and looking unbothered, despite the connotations of her words.

Rather than being upset at her, like he figured most girls in their situation would, they all stayed silent the rest of the time and barely looked anyone in the eye.

The moment Y/N realized she had them, Spencer noticed a small smirk on her face.

Class ended about forty minutes later, and just as the bell rang, he called out.

"Uh, Y/N, could I speak to you for a second?"

She looked up at him for a brief second before nodding, and even though mostly everyone in the classroom laid out a chorus of Oooohs, she still managed to look unbothered. In fact, he could have sworn he noticed her roll her eyes for just a split second.

She packed up her things and waited for everyone to leave. And as she approached him finally, Spencer felt a slight twist in his stomach at the way she did it, her expression somewhat worrisome despite her show of confidence earlier.

"Hey," she greeted plainly. Her hands clutched onto the strap of her bag so tightly her tattooed hands looked almost pale.

"Y/N," he greeted back. "I, uh... I'm not sure exactly what happened before class, but—"

"Yeah, I know. I shouldn't have said anything, it was probably rude embarrass them like that, but it was rude of them to talk about you like that right in front of you."

Spencer paused, not really sure how to respond other than to nod. "Well, uh... I... Thank you, I appreciate that."

"Besides, they're only auditing anyway, it's not like they actually care about the subject. I mean, c'mon, if you're gonna verbally daydream about sucking your professor's dick while he's standing right in front of you, you should at least have the decency to give a shit about what he's taking time out of his day to teach you."

Well... That certainly hasn't been what he was expecting. With eyes wide and hands starting to sweat, Spencer tried to think of how to respond, but came up short. But he had to say something, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"I appreciate your honesty."

Y/N smiled at him. It was a genuine smile that he hadn't seen, and he wished he could see it a thousand times over.

"Well, then, Sir, can I tell you something in all honesty?"

"Always."

She looked him up and down for a moment, his heart involuntarily swelling at the way her eyes raked over him with somewhat of a mischievous gleam. "You are a hot piece of ass. And I give a shit about what you're taking time out of your day to teach me. Thank you for that."

Without another word, she turned away and walked off, leaving him with a dropped jaw that slowly transformed into an amused smile.

Two days later, a Friday to be exact, Y/N showed up a few minutes early as she had every Friday prior. Spencer turned to give her a kind smile, but she didn't look up. She promptly sat down in her seat and got out a book, finding her page and leaning back in her seat.

He didn't want to interrupt, but still he offered a bright, "Good morning," and took the chance that she might offer him a greeting back.

She did glance up from her book, following it with a little smirk and a wink. And just as quickly as it came and went, she started reading again, almost as if the greeting had never happened.

"What are you reading?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Y/N didn't look up this time. But she said, "The Da Vinci Code."

"Oh," he responded, happy he'd even gotten an answer at all. "I've never heard of it."

This time she did look up. And she looked highly amused. "You've never heard of The Da Vinci Code? Not even the movie?"

Since they were looking at each other now, Spencer only shook his head.

"Seriously?" Y/N pressed, tilting her head to the side.

"Seriously. What's it about?"

She simply stared at him some more, and he figured it was still shock over his cluelessness when it came to The Da Vinci Code, but something about the look on her face said it was something else. Something more... devious.

Finally, she said, "I'm not gonna tell you." And then she went back to reading.

He should have left it at that, should have just moved on, but he couldn't help himself. So he pressed further. "Why not?"

Y/N looked up again, and then she closed the book. "Because if it's seriously taken you this long to even hear the name of the book, or the movie, then maybe it's just not your thing."

"Well, Y/N, truth be told, there's a lot in modern pop culture that I don't know about, so... That might not be true."

The two of them held gazes for a few seconds, just completely... captivated by each other in ways neither of them had experienced or could explain. He was in awe of her blunt and snarky presence, and she was utterly taken with his modern naivete.

When she repeated his words from the day before, "I appreciate your honesty," and smiled wickedly at him, he smiled back and almost fell to his knees.

Then students started to come into class and Y/N looked down at her book, which she seemed to have forgotten that she closed, because she actually blushed and fumbled getting it open quickly, obviously not as smooth as she'd always been.

The sight made Spencer's heart flutter.

Once class ended, he looked up to see Y/N standing at his desk and holding out her book. "Here. You should read it."

"Oh, I—I can find my own copy, I— You're reading it, I couldn't..."

Y/N huffed a laugh. "I've read it like five times already, I practically have the entire thing memorized. Just give it back when you're done."

He took the book with a smile. "Well, I have just a bit of paperwork to get done, but after that I'm good to go, so if you come by at the end of the day, I can give it to you then."

She blinked at him, and for a few moments neither of them said anything.

"Oh, I, uh... I read fast," is all Spencer said to explain himself.

Y/N nodded and glanced up at the clock above his head. "Oh. Ha. Right, of course you do. Um, I'll, uh... I'll come back, then. Professor."

The title falling from her lips would have ruined him completely had she stayed any longer, but again, she walked away without another word or glance, and it left him breathless.

There was a point, later on in the day when she came back to get her book, where he'd left her equally as breathless.

He was flipping through pages at light speed, and he didn't even notice her come in and sit down in the chair across from his desk. She sat there for a good two minutes, just watching him flipping pages and muttering silent words to himself, completely unaware of her presence. She'd seen him concentrating before, grading papers while the class was taking quizzes and such, but she'd never been able to study him for more than a few seconds at a time, and as she'd deduced before, it was extremely captivating.

He was extremely captivating. And she told him as much.

Kind of.

"Look at you go," she mused, leaning forward on his desk and resting her chin in her hands.

Spencer jumped, sliding the book so it hit her elbows, and she laughed.

"Y/N, you scared me!" he gasped, clutching at his chest with his right hand. "Ho—how long have you been there?"

"A few minutes. I would've stopped you but you looked like you were in the zooone." Her fingers wiggled and tapped across her cheeks as her face still rested in her palms. A huge smile played at her lips, and despite almost being scared to death, Spencer found himself growing warmer at her amused self.

"Yeah, I guess I was," he stated, bringing his hands to slide the book back to him. He looked down at it for a moment before smiling. "I was actually re-reading it for a third time. After the first I went back to look at the notes I took, and after going through them pretty thoroughly I applied some..."

As he rambled on about the process in which he read, Y/N found herself in an even deeper trance than before. She wished more than anything that she could have payed attention to his words, so she could have a discussion about her favorite book with him, but his passion and commitment to something he didn't even know about until earlier in the day, much less something she of all people just threw at him, was just so...

"Doctor Reid?" she interrupted, almost slipping out of her hands when he stopped and tilted his head, suddenly invested in what she had to say. "Can I stop you for a second?"

"Oh.. Was I going too far? I'm sorry, as you know I tend to ramble quite a bit sometimes, and I know it can be a bit much..."

"No, that's not it. I've... gotta be honest with you about something."

"Hmm?"

She leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table and searching his eyes for a moment before speaking again. "I didn't hear a single word you just said. And I promise it's not because I'm not interested in having this conversation about The Da Vinci Code, it's... something else."

"What's wrong?"

He seemed genuinely concerned, and equally as clueless, and it did things to her insides that she hadn't felt with anyone in... well, ever.

"What's wrong is that I hate everybody. Well, hate is a strong word, and I only mean pretty much everybody that goes to school here, anyway, and it's been that way ever since my Freshman year. And yet... Somehow, I end up with this class, and in almost no time at all you've managed to learn more about me than anyone I've ever met in my three years here."

"Well... I—I'm an educator, I... it's my job to somewhat know my students."

"No, it's your job to teach me. Any other professor would have chewed my ass for saying what I said the other day, and instead you... well... I don't really know what that was the other day, but I didn't get in trouble for it. And then today you actively asked me about what I was reading and genuinely took interest in something you'd never even heard of before... And then you..." She threw her hands in the air. "You fucking read my favorite book three whole times in one day and took notes on it... Seriously, who... Who are you?"

Spencer wasn't sure what to say. Especially when all he wanted to do in that moment was tell her to keep talking to him. He found that he loved when she talked. Even when she was trying to figure him out, to understand why she'd been completely flipped inside and out by a man that was at least 20 years older than her.

Especially considering that on paper, the two of them didn't look like a conventional pair. He was tall, lean, and structurally beautiful in all the right ways, where as she was closed off and beautifully stand-offish. His skin was clear of anything and hers was adorned with tens of tattoos. His clothes were always formal and neat, while hers consisted of only jeans and plain tees and long sleeves.

If anyone saw them together, it wouldn't have made sense.

They both knew this, and yet...

"I am... utterly enchanted by you," Spencer said without thinking. He didn't have to. it was the truth.

Y/N's shoulders slumped, as if some sort of weight had been lifted from them. She smirked a little. "And I am... strangely not indifferent to you."

"Uh... Thanks?"

She laughed, genuinely laughed, and stood up. "That's a compliment, Doctor. A very good compliment."

That mischievous smile of hers returned, and it made his stomach turn over again, his own smile never wavering, and conveying every sense of wonderment that it could.

"I know this might be... unprofessional... And we definitely shouldn't do anything on school property, but... Would you maybe want to, uh... go get coffee or something some time this weekend?" he asked, trying his hardest not to feel small around her big personality.

"What, to discuss The Da Vinci Code, or to go on a date?"

By the look on her face, it was obvious that she knew they couldn't call it a date. As long as they were professionally involved like this, an actual date could never be on the table. But it seemed to be in her... rather playful nature to suggest it anyway.

The thought made his heart flutter again. Still, he said simply with a knowing smile, "To discuss The Da Vinci Code."

She nodded, throwing her bag over her shoulder and getting ready to leave. "Fine. But just so you're aware, there won't be anything stopping me from zoning out and staring at your beautiful face from time to time."

With all the truth in the world, he said, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

***

His middle finger tapped incessantly on the cool, wood surface of the picnic table in the park. It wasn't ideal to meet this far away from the nearest parking lot, but the little spot was far enough away that he was positive no one would see him meeting his student for lunch—a lunch she offered to bring despite his insisting on paying for food. In the end, it was clear that Y/N was more stubborn than he was.

That excited him.

Speaking of excitement, the moment he spotted her walking into sight, his heart rate picked up. And at the powerful surge of butterflies that swarmed in his stomach, he mentally berated himself for even feeling that way.

This was not a date.

And just when he thought he had things under control, she finally reached the table, set down a brown paper bag, and flashed him the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. Her hair was up in a low ponytail with small strands of hair sticking out and blowing in the light breeze. She wore jeans and a tight lavender tee shirt that ended just above her navel, and it had the word "Wednesday" printed on it in black block letters. It wasn't Wednesday, which equally confused and amused him, though because he'd already found her personality amusing enough, what she wore didn't matter.

Except... the more he took her in the more it really did matter, because he noticed more tattoos, which where usually covered with long sleeves and jackets, most likely as requested by the university. But under the soft glow of the September sun, he could clearly see a collage of tattoos running up her left side, disappearing under her shirt. Where it ended, he wasn't sure, but he couldn't dwell on it for too long, or he was afraid the mental images would turn his brain to mush.

Obviously he couldn't do that.

"Hey'a, Professor," she said with a little wink as she took a seat across from him.

"P—please. Outside the classroom, just Spencer is fine."

She gave him a knowing smirk and simply stated, "Okay," though there was nothing simple about it. Her words had an effect on him, and she knew how to play them to her advantage.

But she was apparently in the mood to be nice today, at least for now. Because she peeled back her playful tone and revealed something more friendly. Simple. She tilted the bag towards him and nodded.

"I brought us some subs, as requested. I hope I got your order right."

"I'm sure it's fine. Thank you."

Attempting to keep his cool around her, Spencer remained quiet as they ate. He also avoided looking at her for too long, because every time he did catch her eye she was staring at him, obviously amused as she finished off her sandwich.

But of course, at some point one of them needed to speak. Right?

So he took a sip of water and cleared his throat. "It's uh... It's really nice out today, yeah?"

Y/N laughed, tilting her head to the side and giving him a look that almost sent him flying backwards. "If that was you attempting to break the ice, Spencer, it was completely adorable... If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were nervous."

"I—No, I'm not nervous, wh—why would you think that?"

"Because you can barely look me in the eye, and then the first thing you say to me when we're finished eating is about the weather..."

She raised her eyebrow then, giving him ample opportunity to explain. So he sighed, a rather embarrassed laugh escaping his lips. "I'm sorry, it's just... You're kind of intimidating."

She gave another laugh, one that made his heart soar higher every time he heard it. "Oh please! You're my hot professor, if anything you should be the intimidating one here."

It was his turn to laugh. "Y/N, believe me, if you really knew me, you'd know I'm probably one of the least intimidating people on the planet."

There was a long pause before she nodded, a soft smile forming on her lips. "Well, then, maybe I should get to know you..."

Despite the tugging in the back of his mind that said it was a bad idea to form this close of a relationship with one of his students, especially one who made him feel all warm and fiery inside, he found himself smiling back in agreement.

***

The sun was setting by the time Spencer walked her back to her car. And after dropping off their garbage at one of the public trash bins, he found the walk rather calming. The breeze picked up a bit, somewhat settling the fire in the pit of his stomach as she talked to him about The Da Vinci Code. And then there was the fact that they'd actually spent hours talking, so much so that they hadn't even realized how late it had gotten. Needless to say, it was extremely rare for Spencer to find that type of connection to someone, the type that allowed him to speak back and forth so easily and without regret or embarrassment.

He was thinking about how nice that was when they finally stopped. In front of a motorcycle.

"Is... Wait, this is yours?" he asked her, obviously shocked but more disappointed that he hadn't guessed sooner, and probably a little too turned on than was appropriate.

"Yep," Y/N said proudly, tapping the glinting black metal. "It was a high school graduation present from my mom. She and I used to build motorcycles when I was growing up, and when we moved to the city it got pushed to the backburner. But I love this bike, I ride it everywhere."

"That's... Wow. That's nice." It was really all he could think to say as he looked at the bike and nowhere else. Because if he looked at her, especially standing next to the bike, it was sure to spell out disaster.

"So, where'd you park?" Y/N asked, pulling him from his trance.

"O—Oh. Um, I didn't. I took the train."

He didn't fully realize the weight of his words until a devious smile played at her lips. "Oh? Well... Do you want a ride home?"

"No! Uh... No, I can... I can take the train, it's not a big deal. Th—thank you though."

Despite his better judgement, Spencer looked up at her, and before him was a beautiful young woman with a gleam in her eyes and a pout on her lips that would have destroyed any man in a matter of seconds. Her hand was outstretched, dangling a shiny silver helmet from her fingers. It glinted in the soft orange glow of the sunset, tempting him in the most evil way possible.

"You've been so good to me, Professor. Let me take you home."

At this point, he had no idea whether or not she meant her words to sound as seductive as he'd heard them. His brain screamed, No! but... In the end he knew she was only being nice. She had to be... But it's not safe! Do you know how many motorcycle accidents there are per year?

Before he could stop himself, he sighed and took the helmet from her hands. "A—Are you sure?"

All his reservations were worth it to see the beaming, toothy smile that she gave him right then. "Of course! Besides, who wants to ride the train home for the thousandth time when you could ride a kickass motorcycle instead?"

He put the helmet on, laughing along with her though deep inside he was more than a little terrified. He'd never been on a motorcycle before— it wasn't ever something he thought about. And now he was about to get on the back of one with his student, who had tattoos and spunk and just about everything he didn't. She was incredibly pretty and smart, and now he was learning that she was a total badass in somewhat of a traditional sense as well.

Y/N climbed onto the bike and nodded at him to get on behind her. Thankfully she wasn't able to see how incredibly awkward he felt getting on, scooting up to press himself to her back and figuring out where to rest his hands.

"A couple rules," she said, taking the key from her pocket. "One: I need to know where you live."

"O—Oh, right."

He told her and then she nodded. "Good. I know where that is. Rule two: Try not to adjust yourself too much, it could throw us off. But honestly you don't have to worry about that. As long as you hang on to me, you'll be just fine."

"O—Okay. How should I, um..."

With a small laugh, Y/N reached behind her and grabbed his arms, bringing them around to her front. His stomach flipped at her touch, even long after it was gone.

"Hang on as tight as you need to, got it?" she called to him

"Okay."

"Good. Now. Final rule. Have fun. Look around. Feel the wind in your hair."

"But I'm wearing a helmet..."

Y/N started the bike then, and he jumped, bringing himself closer and squeezing her tightly. His face nestled into her neck as best as he could without distracting her, though she didn't seem phased by it in the least.

"You know what I mean," she called out to him. "You ready, Professor?"

"I think so!" he called back, squeezing his eyes shut despite her final rule.

"Alright, we're off!"

The bike lurched forward a few seconds later, and it took everything Spencer had not to yelp. He wasn't sure how tightly he clung to Y/N but as long as they were still going, he figured it was okay.

It was colder suddenly, and he knew that they were moving at a decent speed. So he took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes, seeing buildings and trees go by in a flash. But the longer they rode around town, the easier he found it to breathe. While his grip around Y/N's front was still fairly tight, he'd definitely loosened up a little, and she could tell. His head was turning from side to side, looking at just about everything he could, and she couldn't see it, but he was smiling wide the whole time.

It was exhilarating. It was fun. And he couldn't remember the last time he had this much genuine fun, all worries completely erased from the mind and replaced with silent whoops of joy.

And then they stopped outside his apartment, and once the loud rumbling of the bike silenced, leaving his ears with a low thumping beat that raced alongside his heart, Spencer finally loosened his grip on Y/N completely. He got off the bike and whipped the helmet off, blood rushing through his veins like he'd just fallen out of an airplane.

He paced on the sidewalk, waiting for Y/N to put the bike in park and get off, and truthfully she was a little nervous. It was definitely weird giving your professor a ride home on your motorcycle, not to mention the added obvious sexual tension between you that shouldn't be there at all. She wondered if maybe she crossed a line, and she chewed her lip nervously as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

"Spencer?" she called out softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm..." He stopped pacing and ran his hands through his hair, which was already pretty wild after being under the helmet— which was currently on the sidewalk.

Great, Y/N thought, I fucked up big time...

But he laughed, a wide smile adorning his pretty features as he looked at her. "I'm fantastic! Y/N, that was.. I can't believe I've never done that before! We weren't even going that fast, but it felt like we were flying!" He laughed then, the sound bringing a relieved smile to her face. And then he took a step closer to her and the relief quickly transformed into genuine joy and contentment.

"That was... incredible," Spencer breathed, his smile never faltering. "You... You're incredible."

She was going to thank him, but before she could say anything he strode to her in two steps and brought her face to his in a searing kiss.

Searing... That's exactly what it was, too. Y/N whimpered into his mouth at his intensity, the way his hands dwarfed the sides of her head and the way his lips moved feverishly against hers. She slipped her hands into his back pockets and brought him closer, her touch jolting him forward and walking them back over to the bike. They stumbled a bit before Y/N was able to gently lean against it.

Meanwhile Spencer couldn't contain himself. By now he was consumed in this fire that she'd set within him, burning down his every defense and sense of logic. He couldn't get enough of her, the way her hands kneaded his ass through his pockets, and how her tongue perfectly collided with his in every way. Each little moan and whimper she let out into his mouth spurred him forward until his fingers were threading into her hair, loosening her ponytail and no doubt gently tugging at her scalp.

If that bothered her, she didn't let on, her hunger matching his in every way.

Eventually, though, she felt herself leaning back too much, and she brought her hands out of his pockets to gently brace herself on the bike, steadying them.

But that didn't slow them down in the least. Truthfully, they weren't sure if they'd ever stop, drinking each other up right there as a few cars went by and the sun set behind them.

It wasn't until Spencer moved one of his hands down to her hip, searching for bare skin, fingers slowly sliding their way farther up her side, when a chorus of, "Ow ow owwww"s and whistles and hollers sounded behind them. He pulled away rather quickly, Y/N's teeth pulling at his bottom lip before he saw a truck full of teenagers whizzing past. They honked their horn and continued hollering until they rounded the corner, and by then the fire in his veins had significantly simmered.

He stepped away from her completely, combing through his hair and blinking, trying to collect his thoughts. But they came out as a jumbled mess. "I'm.. We shouldn't ha... I'm sorry... Y/N, that..."

"I—I know..." is all she said, still bracing herself on the bike.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, trying hard not to look at her. She was obviously rattled, though he thought she didn't mind. In fact, he was pretty sure by the way she was looking at him right then that she was ready to continue what they started, though she didn't do anything about it.

She did say, though, "It's okay. I'll, uh... See you Monday."

"Y—Yeah. Monday... Thanks f—for the ride."

His whole body was numb, fuzzy as she finally moved, walking over to her helmet and picking it up. She put it on and sat on the bike, putting the key in ignition before turning to him one last time and saying two words that sure enough ignited the fire again.

"Anytime, Spencer."

Long after she sped off around the corner, out of sight but most certainly not out of mind, he stood there on the sidewalk, his lips burning and his heart racing.

***

He wasn't sure what to expect on Monday, save for inevitable awkwardness between them, but he certainly wasn't expecting to see Y/N walk into the classroom early that morning with a box in her hands.

"Before you say anything, I just want to disclose that I'm willing to not make things weird," she announced as she made her way over to his desk. She set the box down, revealing six chocolate-frosted donuts with sprinkles. "You said you liked these the other day, so I brought some as a gift... You know, to... apologize."

"Oh, Y/N, you... You don't hav—"

"No. Please, just... Look, I didn't realize it at the time, because for a moment you weren't my professor, you were... You were my friend. And I know now that insisting to let me take you home was less than professional, and I'm sorry. I really was just trying to be nice, but I... I shouldn't have..."

"Y/N, I... kissed you... I'm the one who should apologize for being unprofessional. Really, I don't... I don't know what happened, I just..."

"Adrenaline... You... You were exhilarated and happy, and there was obvious chemistry between us that wouldn't have gotten that far if I hadn't asked you to hop on my bike, so... I'm sorry."

They both looked around, hoping it was still too early for anyone to show up, and then Spencer sighed, looking down at the donuts. "I shouldn't have asked you to lunch in the first place. I... I do want to have a connection with my students, but that's not... That wasn't my intention. I crossed a line I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry."

Y/N sighed, taking a donut from the box. "You know, we can't keep apologizing back and forth like this... So... Can we call it even? We're both sorry, we both fucked up, and we both promise to... act like it never happened?"

"Is... that what you want?" he asked softly, not entirely bringing his head up to look at her, but looking at her through his eyelashes.

His gaze sent a course of butterflies through her stomach, and she hated it. She hated that she was growing fond of her hot professor and that she couldn't stop thinking about his lips on hers and what they'd feel like roaming other places on her body— more specifically, over the tattoos on her skin that she always found him staring at from time to time. She hated that he was charming and pretty and smart, and she hated that he gave a shit about her.

That's why her throat burned like acid when she lied. "Yes. That's what I want."

And for the sake of professionalism, he was inclined to believe her, even though deep down his heart knew that she was lying to him. "Alright then. Thank you for the donuts."

She smiled, trying not to shake as she held her donut up in the air. "Anytime, Professor."

Then she took a bite and walked to her seat, the two of them eating in silence while they waited for class to start

***

The next two weeks went by seemingly slower and slower by the second. If it were a normal situation, Spencer and Y/N going back to their normal student-teacher routine would have been a good thing. And in a way, it most certainly was. However, they both felt plagued by their distance in a way that hadn't been so daunting in a long time.

Almost every day the girls behind Y/N would continue talking about their professor (quieter this time, though still loud enough that she could hear for herself). And every time they did, her thoughts inevitably dragged back to his lips on hers, soft and hard all at the same time, a feeling she knew she'd never be able to experience again. And then she'd glance up at him, seeing him concentrate as he graded papers or read a book, and her insides would burn once more, a reminder of everything she couldn't have.

Likewise, Spencer would be lecturing, glance over at Y/N by happenstance, and that low simmer returned to his veins, begging him to turn back now or re-enter the dark cloud of desire that threatened to ruin his career. He was thankfully able to recover quickly, though not without trying to quell the heat that flooded through his body at the remembrance of her kisses.

Each day was like a ticking time bomb. They waited until the semester was over— hopefully they wouldn't have to see each other and all could have been forgotten. But the days didn't want to fly. They wanted to ride on the back of a snail, just slugging along until it was almost painful to experience.

Even still, Spencer and Y/N went about their days until the semester was one week away from finishing.

It was Monday, class was just about to end, and then he called her over while everyone was chatting amongst themselves.

To say she was nervous was an understatement. Nonetheless, she made her way to his desk with as much normalcy as possible, and the closer she got to him, the warmer she got. It was exhausting, really.

"What's up?" she asked blankly.

"I just wanted to... congratulate you on your work. Truthfully, you've exceeded just about everyone else in terms of quiz and test scores, your work ethic is above average from what I've seen in most students... You're smart,, and you know the material really well. And... A colleague of mine and I are attending a seminar on profiling in New York, and I think you should come with. Present your final essay to the group."

Y/N blinked a few times. "Wait... You're serious?"

"Mhm. I've showed your work to my colleagues and they're all impressed by you. I'm... not exactly sure what your plans for your future are, but I really think you have something special here. And if... If it's not something that interests you, at least consider coming to the seminar anyway. Regardless, your work is exceptional and I think you should be proud of it. I... I know I am..."

The bell rang then, and everyone filtered out as Y/N stood there awkwardly, thinking everything over.

"I don't need an answer right away, but the seminar is on Saturday, so any time before then would be great. Think about it?"

She looked around to make sure no one was around before speaking, her throat tight. "You're not... just saying this because of... what we did? I mean, you really think I'm... I'm good enough to do this?"

Spencer's eyes softened, and against his better judgement, he reached a hand out to touch her shoulder. "I really do. I wasn't lying, you're exceptionally smart and you really could have a future in the FBI, not even as a profiler if you don't want to. But as always, it's your decision. All I'm asking is that you take some time to think about it. Is that okay?"

Y/N always knew that despite the attraction they had to each other, Spencer was a professional first, and he always did encourage her in her studies. She knew he saw something in her, something bright and worth teaching, worth growing, and in that moment, that's what his eyes conveyed. He truly believed in her, not because—or even in spite—of the forbidden moments and feelings they shared, but in addition to them. If anything their feelings were considered the addition here. Because while, yes, their bodies were buzzing at proximity to one another, their heads and their hearts were more connected in that moment than anything, with sheer understanding and care and belief for one another that extended past physical attraction.

Y/N smiled, nodding. "Okay. But I don't need to think about it. I'll go."

"Are you sure? You really don't have to say yes if you don't wa—"

"Yes. I'm sure. A—And thank you, Sp—ah, Professor. I... Thank you." She laughed a little, possibly the most flushed she'd ever been around him, and it made him smile

"Of course."

***

One thing they didn't really put into consideration was the fact that the semester was now over.

It was Saturday, the morning of the seminar, and Y/N was scheduled to fly with Spencer and his colleague, Doctor Tara Lewis, to New York City. Currently, Dr. Lewis was asleep, on the other side of the jet, and Y/N and Spencer were left awake, sitting across from each other and completely buzzing with energy.

You could see why this might have been a problem they hadn't considered.

Y/N wasn't technically his student anymore, and they'd became well aware of the fact after she showed up at the BAU, where she met the rest of Spencer's co-workers and friends. His family, from all she'd heard. And there was a conversation she couldn't help but overhear after they were soon set to leave.

"Now I know why you really brought her along." The voice belonged to Luke Alvez. She was sure of it— his voice was hard to forget. Especially when it was laced with suggestion.

"What do you mean?" Spencer asked.

As cute as his cluelessness was, Y/N couldn't help the bubbles of nerves that erupted throughout her body like a torpedo shooting through water.

"You couldn't be more obvious if you tried, man. Sure, she's smart, and we all know it. But if what you've told us is true, she's also Mystery Motorcycle Mama."

"Wha—How do you know that?" Spencer exclaimed, obviously a little worried. Y/N couldn't say she blamed him.

"Oh, come on, a woman looking like that shows up, you expect me not to believe she's the one you made out with on the street? It wasn't hard to figure out."

The fact that he'd even told someone about that made her nerves rise. She'd wanted to talk to her mom about it for weeks but thought it might have caused trouble, too scared to even think about it.

Luke quelled some of the nervous tension though, when he said, "Don't worry about it, first of all, no one is going to say anything. Okay, and secondly, technically she's not your student anymore... What's stopping you?"

"W— She's a student, first of all, and... I don't know, we've finally gotten back to normal, I don't... I don't want to jeopardize that, especially now that we're going on this... trip together..."

This trip together... Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, suddenly feeling a little warmer and a whole lot more anxious. It wasn't bad, though, more thoughtful. If anything she was interested to see how he'd react around her now that their professional relationship had somewhat come to a halt.

And now they were staring at each other on the jet. Y/N's fingers tapped gently against the table while Spencer's knee bounced rapidly. They were only twenty minutes out, and since they were on the jet it wouldn't be a long flight. But once again, time wouldn't fly. The only difference was, now there was nothing really standing in their path aside from the obvious taboo of it all. People always heard about teachers that got with former students, and it was always so scandalous.

And while it was obvious that they wouldn't be able to publicly say they were 'together', there was something like a barrier between them that had been shattered, or at least see-through in a way that it hadn't been before. It was a little easier to breathe, even, though they still somehow managed to take each others' breath away. It was always just a look, a little smile in the other person's direction, and all ability to function was gone.

The fact that they were still so captivated by each other, even through all the awkwardness and worry, was something that gave them hope. Hope that once this was all over and there was absolutely nothing stopping them from being together, they could still find their way back, and be just as connected to and enchanted by each other as they'd always been.

But for now, at least, they still had this seminar, something he'd only invited her to because of her academic achievements. And because of that, whatever happened between them had to be strictly professional

As if they hadn't already spent almost an entire semester repressing their feelings and only visiting each other in dreams.

***

The group spent the majority of the day getting a tour of the campus they were visiting. Their actual presentations wouldn't start until 7pm, where they'd speak in an auditorium that very much reminded Spencer of his own classroom.

After lunch, some more touring, and then dinner, the three of them found themselves back at their rooms, going over the material. Of course, Tara and Spencer were naturals since they'd both done a handful of teaching, but Y/N was nervous. She'd never given a big presentation like this before, even if it was only just reading sections of her essay that coincided with what Tara and Spencer were talking about.

"It's dumb," she said, slamming her papers on Tara's bed. "I shouldn't be this nervous about reading in front of people, especially since I'm such a goddamned delight in regular conversation."

Tara laughed. "You'll be great, I promise. You've read through it a million times, and even if you don't have it memorized, it'll be right there for you if you need it."

"I... I know." She started pacing a little, trying to even out her breathing. "But I... I've never done anything like this before and I... I don't want to mess up. I mean, Spencer believes in me, enough to have wanted me here, and I don't want... I don't want to let him down."

"You won't. Do... you know how I know?"

Y/N shook her head and sat down next to Tara, smoothing out the skirt she had on. She never wore skirts. She could have worn pants, but something pulled her to the short black fabric, and right now she didn't want to think about what that was. All she wanted to do was focus on calming her nerves.

"I know because... in the little amount of time that I've known you, I can tell how dedicated you are. How strong and smart you are. You know how to hold a room, and you know how to talk to people. And it helps that you know what you're talking about... You do know what you're talking about, right?"

Y/N laughed, genuinely laughed, and nodded.

"Then there you go. You'll be a natural."

The fact that one of Spencer's colleagues, whom he seemed to trust wholeheartedly, believed in her just as much, saw the same talent and dedication that he did, eased her troubled mind quite easily. She thought the worst was over, and to some degree it was.

She wasn't nervous anymore, worried that she'd disappoint Spencer, though when he knocked, came into her and Tara's room, and stopped, looking Y/N up and down with an enrapturement she hadn't seen on anyone's face before, her stomach dropped.

That look? It had been precisely why her mind begged her to put the skirt on instead of the pants.

The black velvet fabric was tight and ended mid-thigh, revealing half of a tattoo she had hidden— black and lavender flowers that matched the color of her blouse. It was a long-sleeve turtleneck that covered the tattoos on her arms and neck, but hugged her figure beautifully. Her hair was pinned up elegantly, loose strands framing the front of her face and big golden hoops dangling from her ears. Her face was completely void of the vivid makeup she always wore, replaced with a shiny, sheer lip gloss and simple eyeliner and mascara. The one thing that stood out, other than the tattoos visible on her thigh and her hands, was a golden eyebrow ring that glinted under the dim light of the hotel bedroom.

She was easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

And he had to stop himself from falling to his knees as he cleared his throat to talk. "Um, it's time to go."

The two of them were glad to have Tara as a buffer, because her "Alright, let's get going," while ushering them out the door made breathing a little easier.

So yes, Y/N certainly wasn't nervous about speaking in front of the crowd anymore. Rather, she was eager to see how focused Spencer would be during the presentation. It was hard enough for him to teach whenever she wore a particularly low-cut top in class—of course she noticed—so seeing her that closely, having her right there within his reach as they taught together, presented a jolt of excitement that gave her an extra boost of confidence.

Admittedly, though, the way she felt his eyes burn into her every cell made it extremely hard to concentrate on anything.

Nonetheless, Y/N, Spencer, and Tara eventually found themselves standing in front of maybe fifty people, students and administrators alike. Y/N swallowed hard, trying to push down any nerves that arose just then, but a soft hand at her lower back centered her.

"You're going to be great," Spencer whispered in her ear, his thumb gently stroking her back. She took a deep breath and nodded, feeling... thankful, in more ways than one.

The actual presentation itself was a breeze. With one encouraging nod from both Spencer and Tara, Y/N stood at one of the podiums and read off sections of her essay with clarity and confidence. Even though it was only a few paragraphs at a time, few and far in between when coupled with Spencer and Tara's detailed, more experienced presentations, Y/N was immensely proud of herself.

She felt like she belonged there. Not like in school, where everybody judged her because she was a loner. Here she didn't stand out, at least not in a jarring or negative way.

And Spencer could see all of it. As she stood there, speaking to the crowd, he took in her confidence, basking in it like it was the sun. Like she was the sun.

They took questions for a few minutes, and Y/N was obviously a little rattled, not expecting to get any questions of her own. But she answered each one with grace, practically beaming with pride and accomplishment.

***

Under the dim streetlights and with glittering snow behind her, she looked absolutely angelic.

Y/N and Spencer offered to wait outside while Tar talked with some of the administrators about coming back sometime in the Spring. But chances are, Y/N wouldn't be there, so Spencer wasn't even sure that he cared to come back. At least not right then, watching her pace around happily in the snow, her smile as wide and as radiant as he'd ever seen it.

"That was... I can't believe I did that!" She was in complete awe, and it reminded him of the day he hopped off her motorcycle and went on a similar tangent. The feeling of a rush, of pure, unadulterated joy... "I mean, I can because you believed in me, and I know it's probably kind of dumb to be this excited about a presentation, but like... I did it! I was..."

"You were a natural," Spencer mused, feeling his whole body warm at the sight of her smiling at him.

She stepped closer and closer, nodding. "I felt incredible."

"You are incredible..."

Once again they found themselves on the sidewalk, completely unbothered and so taken with each other it was hard to breathe.

And then she stepped forward and kissed him, much like he'd kissed her. Their lips melded like they'd never left in the first place, and that familiarity between them added fuel to an already significant flame.

Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair and reveled in his reciprocation as his tongue gently opened her mouth further. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her as tightly to him as he possibly could. And when she melted into him, giving herself over to him completely, he finally felt peace. Right then there was no worry, no awkwardness or burning tension that ate at him until he wasn't sure he could contain himself anymore... He simply just... was. He provided her with warmth and comfort, and in turn she provided him with a feeling of excitement... Of adventure and genuine fun and joy.

He never wanted to let her go.

While there wasn't a truck full of teenagers to break them out of their spell with whooping and hollering, there was a one Doctor Tara Lewis who cleared her throat.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, highly amused. Meanwhile Spencer and Y/N split apart, refusing to look at her. "You ready to go?"

"Uh huh," Y/N said, at the same time Spencer said, "Yep."

Tara laughed, patting both of them on the shoulder as she walked in front of them.

Normally, they would have stayed apart from now on, but the only person they knew who could expose them was already there, and she clearly had no intentions of saying anything to hurt them.

So, Spencer reached out for Y/N's tattooed hand, and she took it gladly, staying close to him as they walked the two blocks to their hotel.

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#mercy 1k celebration #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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gerrydelano · 3 years

Text

hello! i am temporarily back on my bullshit. let’s talk for a minute about the infantilization of abuse survivors in this fandom! there sure is a lot of it.

it can be hard for some folks to recognize some of the stereotypes that find their way into their work when it comes to this topic; it’s not easy to talk about, so we often don’t want to, but the fact of the matter is, you run just as much of a risk of disrespecting and hurting survivors of abuse as you do any other group of people who experience(d) something that you haven’t.

i’m mostly going to be focusing on gerry this time around because it was some posts i saw/asks i received about him that inspired this, and i think it’s something that doesn’t get brought up a lot in his case. this is by no means an exhaustive dissection! there are obviously other characters this gets done to, in and out of this fandom, but gerry’s treatment has been eating at me for a while and some recent conversation has finally given me a reason to bring it up. let’s hit it!

disclaimers and summaries, so everyone’s up to speed:

i’d already made a post earlier about this topic, in response to a post that a friend of mine replied to, which you can read here. this and a second post (also rightfully and respectfully deleted!) created somewhat of a stir even outside of my group of friends; algie also made a pretty good post about it here, too.

but GOOD NEWS! the original poster DID apologize for real, i trust it to be Completely genuine, and i do NOT want anyone going after them at all! it takes time to learn these things, and showing that you have taken the steps to listen and revise your thought process/the way you speak is a deeply respectable thing. i’m still linking the OP solely because it’s connected to a wider trend that i have been seeing since i joined this fandom, and it’s an accessible point of reference to explain that trend. i’m happy this was resolved!

i’m not even really reacting to that post. genuinely, i’m just happy i can put this feeling i’ve had for over a year now into words finally.

after the first thing, though, i got a nice ask about gerry’s hair (possibly to cheer me up from having been upset about a gerry thing earlier LMAO) and a follow-up that led to me writing enough that i figured i’d just consolidate it!

yes. this is going to talk about gerry’s hair. i know that probably sounds out of left field, or stupid, or too menial to really be a big deal, but honestly? the way this fandom loves to take one (1) circumstantial mention of something to unrealistic, often OOC extremes? it can become kind of weird, depending on how you do it. and after seeing that other post before, i finally understood WHY some things i see here rub me so wrong! believe it or not, it does tie back into the way people characterize him in response to his trauma, and that is what bugs me. when people do that. which i’ll get to in the second ask.

the hair is just the tip of the iceberg. don’t come at me for Making A Fuss About His Hair, it’s just one example. it’s not the only one i’m going to make!

now for the disclaimer: i’m not at all upset anymore, and this isn’t an angry vent rant as much as, like... finally putting to words why some depictions of gerry make me uncomfortable as a survivor of very similar abuse to his, and someone who has a lot of the traits being made fun of in that first post despite my “formal” western education.

so, if you take anything i say here as aggressive, “policing headcanons,” Projecting Too Hard or being sensitive, then that’s a You Problem and something you need to deconstruct within your own self because all this is? is a survivor writing something for himself, on his own blog, that you are deliberately choosing to read, that expresses a feeling about something that personally impacts him. i’m not telling you what to do, or insulting you, or any of that.

you take from this what you want to take from it! i’m just talking for me, and people who feel the same way as i do, so that they know i see them and understand why it can be frustrating to see your experience mocked, belittled, patronized, romanticized, or all of the above at once. and if you tone police me on this, i swear to g-d you have to be Purposefully misreading me because i’m honestly just passionately infodumping and that is it.

anyway! i’m just going to paste the first ask and its original response now (with a few tweaks), then the follow up ask, and expand accordingly at the end!

anon: everyone takes badly dyed black hair to mean roots grown out but i think (as someone who dyes eir hair very frequently) that gerry should have missed spots behind his ears and the spots at the base of his neck always fade a little weird ♡

i 100% agree thank you for saying this! okay, not to take it too seriously but i am pretty tired of people taking the single citing of “poorly dyed hair” (when he was. literally a few months way from dying of a fucking brain tumor????) to mean he looks terrible at all times on purpose<3 or that he just straight up lacks the general ability TO dye his hair at all on a normal day despite. doing it for years. dkfjhd like, come on, man! have mercy!

sometimes it’s simply obvious someone dyes it because:

it catches the light funny

it has sort of a matte look

some spots that are are harder to reach fade at a different pace than other places because you put less dye there

it could leave stains on the collar of your clothes, other fabrics

it’s faded by the ends or the back in particular

it’s just cheap quality dye and Looks artificial, even if it’s covering everywhere

it can be that simple. i have dyed my own hair so much and sometimes i see things that make me Wince because i’m like. he’s committed to his whole Look why wouldn’t he be trying harder to maintain it when he’s not Literally Dying. jdfhjd. the roots are literally the easy part.

i could see them growing out some if he had to go a little while on some trip with mary without fresh dye, but you know what’d make more sense? he packs dye when he travels, but he runs out and has to buy new dye from a store he’s never been to, so they’re two different fucking blacks. he could have to rush to apply it so he missed some spots more in the middle (common with thick hair!), anything. but the roots are the easy part and that’s typically what you retouch first when you’re maintaining your dye! it would be the rest of it that gets patchy or fades out. if he’s unable to retouch it for long enough that his roots get like that, the rest would be dull as hell.

usually i just look the other way because it’s not a big deal but you'll NEVER see me writing him as having 5 mile roots unless he’s in a bad enough funk that he can’t keep up with it. which would totally have happened! yeah!

that’s actually a really great way to display when he’s starting to really succumb to exhaustion from mary’s haunting, or his cancer developing, all of that. it CAN be a very useful tool, and i’m not saying never do it! i’m just saying that assuming it’s the default is kind of weird, and if you’re making it all Cutesy when it’s pretty much canonly just a sign of the decline of his health and well being? that’s when i’m kind of. shifting in my seat a little.

honestly i feel like maintaining his Aesthetique™ was probably one of the most consistent ways he could reclaim and assert his own agency over his body and while he might not have been Serving Looks every day he was probably at least on the ball with his hair, like. if Nothing else.

except the little spots behind his ears and the base of his neck because he IS only human :’-)

@wytchcore: (off anon now bc why not)

but yes!!! especially when your roots are lighter than the dye, i dont know anyone who lets their roots grow out that much, honestly. and somewhat re the 'his hair is the only thing he has agency over', i also hate it when people say his hair is damaged to hell and back because like... people who dye their hair regularly, especially if you have long hair, tend to know how to take care of it. and a little shameless projection but dry/damaged hair is a Bad Feel like, sensory speaking. so no.

okay, now this isn’t pasting/revising a previous answer. flat out new stuff here.

i’ve already gone on way too long about the specifics of gerry’s hair, which probably looks pretty unnecessarily pedantic and petty, so i’m not gonna beat the dead horse on that one anymore. it’s no longer about that!

the bolded bit in this ask is what i want to emphasize, because THAT is the line that made me connect this conversation back to the post from before.

once again we cycle back to “infantilizing the abuse survivor” <3 because. yeah, it happens a lot with him and this particular thing seems to be no exception to that pattern? that i’ve noticed, anyway. like... give him some credit, man.

he’s a genuinely resourceful, adaptive, self-sufficient guy with a lot of ground knowledge and everyday skills that had to have gotten him through when his mother was less than reliable. in what world would he have not picked up on how to take care of his hair, especially if it was something he clearly took pride in and was more than likely styling that way in attempts to keep some control over a choice he kept deliberately making?

it’s nowhere near the severity that it gets put on jon, but this also reminds me a little of. people projecting bad hygiene or outright cluelessness about the whole subject on the super traumatized characters?

we all know executive dysfunction and depression is a thing and i’m not about to pretend i don’t think gerry would have a mountain of that to battle, but people don’t always seem to come at it from that lens with him anyway. it’s just. it does read sometimes as people just applying an unconscious stereotype where the traumatized/sheltered abuse victim Doesn’t Know How To Take Care Of Themself Or Navigate The World, which is. categorically untrue when it comes to gerry and also pretty hurtful to see in the patterns that i’ve seen it in multiple different fandoms.

and no one really goes into it thinking they’re going to do that on purpose! but it does still happen. stereotypes exist for all kinds of experiences and no, you’re not always going to notice especially if you don’t even consider a particular experience to be marginalized or at a disadvantage.

abuse and trauma overlaps with every marginalized identity, too. mentally ill and disabled people, LGBT people, and POC do have higher rates of abuse and trauma within their demographics. it is a part of the discussion of those things, so why is it that we don’t always think to be more careful when we speak about the subject broadly? if so many people are more likely to have experience with it? so many of the people you know here have this history, are going through it now, are struggling to get out. it’s not some mythical thing, it’s actually one of the most prevalent experiences across the board that exists in every sphere of human nature.

i think we all just have to be more careful, especially given how many survivors of trauma and abuse do flock to online spaces because it’s safer here than at home a lot of the time. it sucks to run into content that makes the incredibly painful, long-lasting results of your trauma into some gag to be laughed at, or some Cute Quirky Thing that no one fully examines the consequences of.

a small reminder that the initial post was completely resolved, and that OP displayed exactly how you’re supposed to respond to this kind of critique. i’m still going to talk about why it was hurtful, but i want it to be clear that it’s for educational purposes for those who don’t understand why OP took the post down, and not as an attack over something that’s finished.

even just the title — “Gerard Keay Can’t Do Math” — inspired kind of a wince reaction. i don’t think everybody understands just how much that can fuck up your life, well into adulthood? even if i didn’t have dyscalculia, i still might have bawled my way through math classes being taught by cruel teachers who didn’t care if you understood or not, and continuously went out of their way to make you feel stupid.

to struggle with giving someone their change, tipping at a restaurant, doing your own bills and taxes, going to the bank at All, knowing what to withdraw and what to save, balancing a checkbook, delegate what services you can afford to cover and maintain your home and daily life — those things are crushing, my dude. it is agonizing to feel behind on those things, to have never been taught them, to be berated and belittled and laughed at for being Developmentally Behind your age group because you’re learning so late.

genuinely, i’d have thought a lot more people on here would understand that experience than not? it fucking sucks. what’s funny about it? feeling stupid, useless, like a failure, like you’ll never grow or be able to support yourself, like you’re a burden on anyone you ask to help you — what’s funny about that?

in gerry’s case, who the FUCK was he asking to help him? he would have had to learn those things first and foremost, so this doesn’t make Sense to put on him.

okay dumb comparison here, bear with me, but you know the “don’t stay in school” video? This Is VERY Gerrycore. this is probably how he’d be reacting if he DID go to school, and frankly? he’s probably pretty fine with the fact that he didn’t! because the Practical Knowledge he got instead is FAR more useful to him. he learned that stuff FIRST; the things directly applicable to his life.

who cares if he wouldn’t know calculus: when the fuck are YOU using it?

the weird significance that people place on the western education system is Bothersome because, like... we have been criticizing and trying to deconstruct that system for ages, it’s a pretty big political talking point, it’s like. not helpful to reinforce the inflated sense of superiority that it fuels itself on.

like angel said above, he literally spends his whole life being taught how to run a small business with his mother. a small, niche, business that would require him to know how to do math and be pretty well read in general! yes, about history and language and the world (to balance science and the eldritch, to explain certain phenomena and then cross-reference it with the powers, ad nauseum.) about all sorts of things i’m willing to bet none of us understand.

because we didn’t have to.

treating gerry like he’s Stupid is a pretty bad look! do you have any idea how smart you have to be to navigate the world with, yes, such an inconsistent education from a notably unskilled teacher like mary? OP was right about that much, and i understand what they were getting at; his knowledge WOULD be pretty sporadic and mostly self-taught!

but again, this is far from the only time i’ve seen this kind of joke get made; it’s not actually even the worst one, just the most recent i’ve seen. i sure as hell didn’t go out of my way to collect them over the past year because seeing them was upsetting, but there have been enough that actually go out of their way to make him being Clueless about the Ordinary World be some, like. cute thing or some running joke.

EDIT 11:00 PM - and this isn’t even to mention the stereotypes about Weird Homeschooled Kids being socially inept and just not knowing how the world works in general. like. we know he was Forcibly Isolated (which isn’t something to joke about anyway), but that stereotype DOES hurt actual human beings who were homeschooled for any number of reasons, be it disability/injury/illness, finances, global location, or literally just because the parents don’t want their kids to get fucking hurt the way that kids always do in school. sometimes, a parent CAN give better education than a fucked up system that targets SO many children for reasons out of their control, and to act like they are DOOMED to be Stunted is just plain insulting? we aren’t better than anyone because we went to public school, gang. we just have PTSD.

stop regurgitating propaganda about the western education system! it does no one any favors, and it honestly gets bootlicky after a while.

so now for the other thing people do that kind of infantilizes or softens him in ways that contradict why he’s so compelling in the first place.

the reason he couldn’t integrate himself into the ordinary world wasn’t because HE felt ignorant; he felt that everyone else was too ignorant. remember that?

i know we don’t like to admit that our favorite boy has an arrogant streak, but being raised by mary? he’d have absorbed plenty of her thought patterns regardless of how much he resisted her goals just by dint of such long and consistent exposure to her. we think of him as The Good Guy so we don’t want to think he ever had a bad thought in his life, ever did a bad thing for the wrong reasons, but the fact of the matter is, he would have. what makes a good person is having those impulses and choosing to work against them, which he DOES eventually do when he’s able to.

but he had to make himself think like her to survive her for a long time! as a teenager, he was canonly out there doing her bidding! he was out there not caring about the safety and lives of other people in order to get what he was told to get; for all we know, he killed that one guy in the tunnel to get the stupid bone book! we don’t know. but it sure is possible!

he DID have a time where he just went and adhered to the way she taught him to live. no, that’s not fully analogous to the Rebellious Good Samaritan Action Hero everyone kind of likes to act like he was because he advised andrea nunis on escaping the lonely and he handled diego molina himself before lesere saraki could touch him, and that’s the thing.

andrea nunis was probably one of the first things he made the choice to do By Himself, because he was Actively running from mary that time (immediately after being acquitted), and the diego thing? sure, he could have been fucking around with the desolation on orders (given how he said he did do what she asked, and she was “around” to pick him up from the hospital), but that was even later in her haunting and he says he “covered leads” as revenge against her when she faded for a few days at a time, to keep books AWAY from her. killing a guy just to do that is SUPER interesting characterization (as a kindly anon pointed out!)

ren’s going to talk about that some in a future meta of theirs, so i won’t get too far into it now since it diverges from my initial point. but, y’know, i just. i think people water down his character a lot in ways that aren’t supported by canon. usually in ways that minimize his intelligence, confidence, and ability to look after himself despite us knowing that he was largely self-reliant all his life. his moral compass is skewed due north when it’s honestly Not Even That.

he is self-assured in his intelligence, and seems to think the shit he gets sucked into is the fault of other people’s lack of knowledge. he probably gets annoyed when people don’t magically know what he knows (see: him literally talking about the entities in front of civilians, etc.)

take this comparison, too: i know a lot of us here don’t feel like we can connect with cishets, with abled/neurotypical people, even just people who don’t share a neurotype with us, Rich People™ — it’s literally the same feeling. i know i struggle to be close with people who aren’t similarly traumatized! and it’s not because i want more people to have been hurt like that, but i find it easier to communicate with people who were because we don’t have to watch what we say or justify why we behave in a strange way to each other. we can skip all that and just go about our day.

gerry has no interest in censoring himself. it’s frustrating to interact with people you have to explain yourself to. he wasn’t spending all of his time pressing his hand to the glass and yearning for normalcy. he was busy, he was getting by, and he was — in a twisted, unsavory way to us, the listener — comfortable.

there were things he was obviously angry about, things that irreparably hurt and changed him, things that fueled his incredibly spiteful nature, but honestly? even then, it’s not what you think about 24/7. sometimes you are just living your life. sometimes you’re just running errands, keeping shop, talking to your mother at the dinner table, seeking and accepting her praise for the things you genuinely love to do, and just touching up your hair dye in the bathroom because it’s something that comforts you in the day to day.

and you get good at all of those things.

i’ve officially hit Ramble Town so i’m going to stop finally, but! i hope at least some of this was clear. it just sucks to see someone who clearly was presented with useful information, who knows how to use it, who CAN rely on himself, being reduced to a sheltered, nervous nitwit that doesn’t know how to upkeep his own hair — which, again, is a choice he continuously makes for Over A Decade.

and, you know, other things. but that’s all been said already by smarter people than me, and will be said later by the same! ren’s going to touch on what gets done to martin, too, more often than probably anyone in this podcast, so keep an eye out for that bad boy coming soon.

#gerard keay #gerry delano #gerry #the magnus archives #tma #magnuspod #magpod #r.txt #ronologues #abuse tw #cancer tw #top #3.8k words... oops.

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wdwmarveldisney · 3 years

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Hiiiii this is really dumbbbbb but I love ur work!!! Can I request one w isaac where the reader is afraid of like cutting her hair like it gives her anxiety and isaac helps her?? Idk like maybe she's stiles sister and like stiles is pressuring her about it? Thanks luv u lots ❤ totally fine if ur like whatever never doing this lol

Tonsurephobia

Isaac Lahey x Stilinski!reader with long hair

Summary: Stiles is pressuring you to cut your hair and with a fear of having your hair cut, you call Isaac to help you out.

Masterlist

A/N: Okay sorry it took so long to post this. I did a little research into this so hopefully it’s accurate too because I’d really hate to upset someone so please tell me if I got something wrong.

GIF isn’t mine

You loved your brother. Honestly, he is so important to you and you look up to him and respect him but oh my god, you just wanted to kill him sometimes. It would just get to a point where you wanted to just wack him with the thing closest to you. Like right now, you were debating throwing the book in your hands at him as he spoke. You weren't really taking any of the words in, your fierce glare unnoticed by the ranting boy. Stiles was talking to you about cutting your hair after it got in the way and almost got you killed. It had blocked your view and your shot was off and then the wolf attacked you and you're only human so it took a while to heal. And now you were being lectured on cutting it.

You would, honestly. You understood where he was coming from and you knew that it was the right thing to do but for some reason, it terrified you. Whenever you had to even think about it, you would shake and cry and it would slowly get so bad that it was a panic attack. So naturally you did your research and found out it was a common fear called tonsurephobia. Mostly seen in children but it can stick with some people as they grow older. There were quite a few ways to help with it but most involved having another person there to help reassure you and such and you weren't telling anyone about your phobia. You just knew that they probably wouldn't understand and you didn't need that.

You heard Stiles huff, your gaze flickering up and meeting his as you realised you spaced out and was staring at the book in your hands. Your brother had his arms crossed, frown on his face, "Are you even listening?" Your head tilted to the side, an expression of thought making him scoff. The book fell into your lap as your hands rested on top of it and you leant forward just a tad, "Not really, no," You watched him groan into his hands before muttering about giving up and leaving the room. As you watched him leave, you couldn't help but think that he was right. That maybe it was time to start working on it. So you called the one person you felt comfortable talking about this with.

Isaac took a little while to get there and because Stiles was home, he had to climb through your window. The first thing he had done was tackle you onto the bed which had you both giggling. You hadn't told him over the phone why you needed him but had said you needed him as soon as possible. "Hey," You ran a hand through Isaac's curls, the boy grinning as he pecked your lips a couple times. "Hi. What's up?" You shrugged, considering backing out but Isaac immediately noticed and frowned at the fact you were so panicked. Realising that he'd used his werewolf abilities to pick out your anxiety, you huffed and pouted, "Fine. I want to cut my hair,"

"Okay?"

"And I don't like having my hair cut," He looked so confused so you began to explain it in a bit more depth, "Apparently its called tonsurephobia. It's a fear of having your hair cut, I sometimes have panic attacks when I have to do it," Isaac slowly nodded in understanding and brushed back some hair out of your face. He sat up, pulling you with him, "So, you want me here to help?" You gave a small nod, linking your hand with his as you avoided any eye contact. It felt so stupid as you spoke and you were pushing down the nausea at the thought of ridicule. But Isaac just squeezed your hand tighter and tilted your head down to try and catch your eye, "Okay, so what do I have to do then?"

Isaac laughed when you looked at him wide eyed in disbelief, "So, you don't think it's weird or anything? You're, like, completely understanding?" The boy grinned as you watched him apprehensively, seemingly waiting for him to say something different. He pulled you closer, smiling sweetly as he kissed your nose, "Well, yeah. You're the same with me. So do you want me to actually cut the hair or...?" Your face relaxed and your head fell onto his shoulder in relief. You could feel him laugh and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, "Um, yes. Yeah, I want you to, um, cut it," your fingers began to fiddle with his as he nodded with a small okay.

You shakily got up and went to go get scissors but Isaac caught your wrist and pulled you back. His smile seemed hesitant and worried, "You know you don't have to, right?" At your silent nod, Isaac wrapped his arms around your waist and stared up at you with this gaze of comfort that had you relaxing slightly, "Okay, if you're sure," his fingers grazed just under your shirt as you grinned wobbly and slipped out of his arms to go over to your desk. The scissors were under a bunch of papers and pens and wires. Once you’d dug them out, you held them out to Isaac who slowly took them. Pulling the spinny chair out to the middle of the room, you fell into it with a death grip to the arm rests.

Isaac immediately noticed and placed the scissors down on the bed in order to just run his fingers through it. He could hear the trembling breaths and could see how tightly you had your eyes screwed shut. You could tell he was hesitant to do it so with one deep breath, you tried to pull yourself together. “Alright,” your voice shook and was extremely quiet compared to your usual loud sarcastic self, “Just above the shoulders, maybe. Means I won’t have to cut it for a while,” Even though you couldn’t see him, Isaac nodded and reached for the scissors and grabbed a brush from your nightstand.

He was careful and gentle, trying his hardest to not trigger anything. He knew what it was like to have this big fear of something and he knew how suffocating it could be. So he was being mindful of it all and you were so grateful for him. Isaac stopped turning you to check if it all seemed even and then he spun you to face him, holding your hands with this goofy smile that cheered you up. He quickly intertwined your fingers and when he spoke, you could hear the joking edge, “Now just remember, I’ve never cut hair before,” A small groan left your lips, smile growing slowly on your face which made him chuckle, “It’s terrible, isn’t it?”

“No, I’m not that bad,” he seemed genuinely offended by your words but the two of you were giggling still as he pulled you up. You followed him to a mirror, a hand covering your eyes before it dropped and you could see yourself reflected back. Isaac arms were wrapped around your shoulders as he nervously grinned at you. The haircut wasn’t actually that bad, pretty decent. There was a few pieces that were too long or too short but they weren’t overly noticeable. You actually looked really good.

You turned to peck Isaac’s lips, thanking him as he relaxed into you. “Oh thank god,” you laughed into his hair as his head rested on your shoulder. You were so glad to have Isaac by your side.

#isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagine #talks about a severe phobia

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bts-reveries · 3 years

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young one | 22

(images in between and at the end!)

JUNGKOOK’S POV

It was one in the afternoon. You have just woken up and you just wanted to close your eyes for the day to go by faster. At one point you know you’d wake up and your girl and your son would be coming back home. At that point you’d get up.

Your phone rang beside you and you opened up one eye. Reaching out to the empty side of the bed for your phone.

It was your friend.

Sungjae specifically.

But you weren’t feeling it today so you let it go to voicemail.

After the call ended, you saw several text messages from all of your friends. From both group chats. Unfortunately, none of them were from Yn. Your friends sent their good morning texts and daily pictures of their kids. It was your guys’ thing to do that. You all just loved each other’s kids so much. Yoongi hyung seem to still be upset over the fact that Hana is starting to attract boys at school. I mean, who can blame her? Just like your other nieces, they were beautiful and definitely will be heartbreakers in the future. Your other friends on the other hand were bringing you food. You don’t like saying no, because you think this is their way of keeping you company and distracted during this sad time... but you just weren’t feeling like it today.

▼ the text messages you woke up to ▼

“What are you up to?” Taehyung called you unexpectedly, but of course, you couldn’t just let his facetime go on a missed call. Taehyung’s different.

“Cleaning,” you answered.

“Cleaning? There’s only one of you, how messy could the apartment be?” he replies. You scratch your head, laughing sheepishly.

“Well…” you switch the camera to the back camera and show your hyung the mess you’ve made along with your friends.

“JUNGKOOKAH!” Taehyung yells in surprise. “What the heck! What do you do?”

“Uhh… my friends are quite messy..”

“You have your friends over? I never get an invite anymore,” Taehyung says with a pout.

“Well,” you say, biting your lip, “I don’t really invite anyone over, my friends come unannounced most of the time.”

“Do you like them over?”

“Y-yeah.. I guess so. I don’t mind I guess,” you say. “Plus, it would be rude for me to kick them out. They come over and bring me food and I don’t know, they know Yn and I don’t live together right now so I guess they just want to keep me company.”

Taehyung quirks up an eyebrow at you, then squints his eyes.

“I see… well, if they’re going to come over, unannounced, they should at least help clean up? You know, making a mess in someone else's house is more rude than kicking them out. It’s your place, if you don’t like it, you have the right to tell them not to come next time.”

“It’s okay hyung, don’t worry. I don’t mind. Cleaning up relaxes me anyways-”

“What’s wrong? Why do you need to relax, are you feeling okay?” Taehyung interrupts, feeling a bit worried as he senses something wrong.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I just feel a little off today. But I’ll be okay! Don’t worry about me, I’m sure I’ll feel better after I clean up everything… here,” you answer, sighing over the mess you had in front of you.

“Okay, well I’ll leave you to it then,” Taehyung says.

“Okay hyung, I’ll see you,” you say, waving at the camera.

“Okay, well I’ll stop by tonight. I’m letting you know before going like a polite person,” Taehyung says, mockingly. “Bye Jungkookiee~”

“Bye hyung, I’ll see you later then,” you say, ending the call. You put down your phone and sigh. “Okay let’s get started.”

After picking up all the mess, the old pizza boxes, the empty cans, and going down to take them to the trash and recycling bins, you were finally done.

But you didn’t want to stop there. So you went to your room to clean up there as well.

Unsurprisingly, it was pretty clean. It’s mostly empty. It’s pretty empty. Well, the only time you’re ever in there now is to sleep.

So a U-turn has been made and you went your way to Sian’s room instead.

Again.

Empty.

And suddenly, you felt pretty empty as well.

You dropped the vacuum you were holding onto and walked inside the quiet room. You shivered as you felt a cold breeze.

You missed the sound of Sian’s laugh and, surprisingly, stepping on his legos whenever you entered. You don’t know how long the two will be gone. You’re hoping not forever. You know it won’t be forever. But you know, you never know what may happen in Busan that might make Yn and Sian stay. But you’re hoping everything goes well there so they can come back home and the three of you would be a happy family again.

It looked like Sian packed most of his toys and brought them to Busan with him, so the room really felt empty.

You scan your eyes around the room and scrunch your brows as you see something poking out from underneath Sian’s bed. You walk over, bending down to pull the fuzzy thing poking out from underneath.

It was Sian’s bunny. You frowned at the thought of Sian forgetting his favorite bunny back home.

This was the first toy the two of you had ever gotten him.

~ flash back ~

“What about this?” You say, turning to Yn, showing her a small stuffed bear. She scrunches her nose, holding her hand on her belly.

“We call him little bunny… Kookie. Don’t you think a bunny would make sense?” she laughs as you scrunch your nose. She knew the little baby in her belly was going to be just like his daddy.

“Nevermind then,” You say, putting down the stuffed bear. “I can’t find a bunny though…” Yn walks over to you and pinches your cheek because she thought you just looked too cute when you pout.

“I hope our Sianie bunny looks just like you,” she tells you.

“Because I’m cuter?” you joke. She glares at you as you say this, making you laugh.

“Whatever Jeon, let’s find a bunny so we can go home,” she pouts, “we’re hungry..”

“Well let’s get some food then!” Jungkook says, grabbing hold of your hand and, basically, dragging you out of the store.

“Wait!” she says, stopping you from speed walking out.

“What is it, are you okay?” you ask her, putting your hand on her stomach.

“Yeah we’re fine, but look!” she points. You turn your head to the direction she’s pointing at. And of course, there it was.

A big, white bunny. Perfect for your little one.

fast forward months and months and months later ▸▸

“Jungkook, can you watch Sian while I take a shower?” Yn asks you. She looked exhausted and you can hear your baby crying on the bed behind her.

“Of course, take your time,” you tell her. She’s been working hard, I mean, you’d like to think you both are. Being new parents and all. Yn finished the school year when she was pregnant with Sian, and she’s going to be taking a break as of now to be a full time mommy. She says she’ll finish whenever she’s ready. But you, you’re done. So as the father of your new, little family, you think of yourself as the breadwinner.

You didn’t have a super stable job… yet… but what you have right now is good enough.

You walk up to Sian, who’s still on the bed, pouting. Something Yn says he got from you. You knew exactly what would make him happy.

“Sianie! Look!” you yell, taking out his bunny stuffed toy. Immediately your son’s face lit up, reaching out for the bunny.

“You love him right! Mommy and daddy got this for you before you even came out,” you explain, poking his little belly, making him laugh. “Mommy says I look like a bunny and she says you hopped in her belly whenever I’d talk to you so she said you’d come out just like me.” You couldn’t help but lean down to pepper kisses all over your baby as he chews on the bunny’s ears. You sigh.

“Aigoo..Please never get bigger, you look so cute like this,” you pout, pressing a finger to his cheek.

fast forward even more months and a year later ▸▸

“Where’s Sian?” Yn asked you from the kitchen, holding Sian’s lunch. You look at her with wide eyes, knowing darn well that Sian was on the living room floor in front of you eating candy that you weren’t supposed to give him.

“No idea,” you lied. Yn put Sian’s food down on the table and walked straight to you and you tried to snatch the candy away from your son. But even at a young age, he knew what you were doing and pulled away before you could reach it.

“What is that?” Yn says as she comes closer, seeing her son sucking on something red. “Jungkook!” she yells, giving you a look as she takes the candy from Sian. He cries immediately and she picks him up from the ground to take him to the kitchen table. “He’s not going to want to eat now, why would you do that.” She’s pouting now because she’s upset with you.

“Yes he will,” you say, reassuring her. You grab Sian’s bunny off the ground and bring it towards the two.

“Sian look, bunny is going to eat all your food if you don’t eat it,” you say, pulling the tray in front of you. You bent the bunny closer to the food and made “eating” noises to pretend he was eating all of Sian’s food.

“No! No!” Sian yells, lips quivering as he reaches for the food. “That mine…” he says sadly. Yn looks up at you and smiles. You mouth an “I told you so” at her and she playfully rolls her eyes at you. You slid the tray back to you and Sian and he doesn’t hesitate with his little spoon, digging in.

“Thank you,” she mouths back at you.

fast forward to Sian getting ready for his first day of school ▸▸

“Where’s bunny?” Sian says, as the two of you were packing his school supplies. You quirk an eyebrow up at him.

“You’re taking bunny to school?” you ask. He looked at you as if you just asked the STUPIDEST question in the world.

“Daddy he has to go with me. If you can’t come, who else would be my friend,” he pouts, searching under his blankets for his favorite stuffed toy. You smile at your little boy. Who suddenly… didn’t feel so little anymore. Your heart ached at the thought.

“You’ll make lots of new friends,” you say. “You’re charming, just like daddy,” you say with a little smirk and an eyebrow lift. “Who could say no to you?”

“I still need bunny to make me feel safe daddy… please help me find him,” Sian says, ignoring everything you had just said.

“Okay okay,” you give in, “I think mommy washed him, he should be in the dryer.” Sian turned to you in horror.

“OH NO!” he yelled, “the dryer is dangerous for a bunny!” He tells you with wide eyes, before running out of the room.

“D-don’t blame me! Mommy did it!”

~ end of flashbacks ~

You bring the bunny to your heart as you just got a wave of memories of Sian’s past. You wondered how he’s surviving without his bunny right now. Usually he can’t sleep without it. How did he get through the other nights without him? Better yet, without you?

Yn would usually call you at night to talk to Sian before he slept, maybe that helps. But without his bunny??

Maybe you’re going to have to visit them. You know, just to drop the bunny off.

Thinking about seeing them in person and even getting to hug them makes you happy, but you know it isn’t right.

You’re on a break for a reason, you want to give them some space. It’s for the best.

Anyways, you take his bunny to your room, putting him on your night stand.

Right next to the little box that held your future with Yn.

And your debt to Yoongi hyung.

young one

♛ part twenty-two: bunny ♛

pairings: photographer, dad!jungkook x hostess, mom!reader

a/n: this was different from what i usually do, but i hope you like it!

taglist: @kookietsukkie @brinnalaine @chocobetterknot @silentlyimpractical @aianloveseven @jayhope88 @preciouschimine @noelitaaaa @butterflylion @yogugui @jikachoo @samros95 @yoongis-cumsock @strwberry-jam @sope-and-shine @cosmicdaylight @eatjeanjin @rjsmochii @i-swear-im-a-soft-stan @peoplejustcanthandlemywierdness @prdshobi @marmaribelarova @ramyagovindraj @casspirit0705 @ssyubb @smauslut @taexmichi @codeinebelle @cecedrake2217 @hellotherehoneybee @ddofa @winterwidow27 @ephyra1230 @heartfeltscribblings @nightapple4jk @applejuice5000 @salty-for-suga @lemonteacyst @princessjazzyjazz @bamboozled-jaykay @bigimpression @dammit-jjk @kookie-sun0097 @kookoo-kachoo @waddlebby @taekookcaneatme @jikooksgirl19 @tanumiki @strawberryforever25 @hobiismyhopeu

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jeanslongschlong · 3 years

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a-z fluff alphabet for eren jaeger

these are self indulgent because i was really craving some eren fluff tonight. enjoy!!

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Let’s face it. This boy is known for being overly passionate about everything, so he adores absolutely everything about you. Specifically, the fact that you don’t try to baby him and often give him the freedom he needs (but not the freedom, if you get what I mean LMAO). He really appreciates that you allow him to do things on his own and aren’t too overbearing. He already gets enough of that with Mikasa.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Probably your hair. This boy could sit around and play with your hair aimlessly all day; it literally brings him so much joy he can’t even begin to explain it. Loves to braid it, pet it, run his fingers through it, basically anything you can think of.

If you don’t have hair, then probably your hands. He loves to hold your hand in public (since we all know this one is probably possessive as hell) just to show that you’re his. Especially in front of Jean. When you’re alone, he likes to lay back on the bed and trace patterns on your palms, play with your fingers, and laugh at the size difference between your hands, claiming he thinks the size difference is adorable.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

I feel like Eren isn’t entirely huge on PDA, so I wouldn’t go as far as saying he likes to cuddle in public, but when it’s just the two of you (or a group of you and maybe a few friends), expect him to be trying to initiate cuddles all the time. This boy is so seriously touch starved, he yearns for your touch all the time. I mean, who would say no to him, though? I love him 🥺

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think Eren is the romantic type perse, BUT, I definitely think if he were to have an ideal date with you it would include a late night picnic with extremely deep conversations about how you imagine your future to be. Lots of cuddles. You’d definitely have a good time, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys got so carried away in your chatting that you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

This boy is the worst at expressing his emotions, I swear. He’s sad? Angry. He’s happy? Slightly less angry. He’s angry? You’d better start running. When it comes to getting him to talk to you about his emotions, he really doesn’t like to be pushed. He has issues acknowledging that he has issues in the first place, but once he does realize it, he usually takes a few days to process and think before choosing to talk to you about it (if he ever does). This boy’s feelings are an enigma, but he’s working on it. This can cause a rift in your communication, but it’s an easy fix if you’re willing to talk to him about it. The last thing he wants to do is let his inability to express emotions ruin the best thing he’s ever had.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Okay, canonically? I don’t think this boy has ever thought about it. I don’t think he ever thought he’d live that long. Especially S4 Eren, starting a family is the last thing on his mind. So, probably not, I’d barter.

However, in a modern AU? I definitely see Eren wanting children with you. I can’t see him wanting them until he’s in his late twenties/early thirties, but I 100% think he would want some. Only if you did, though. Kids are something he can live without, even though he would really like to have some if he were given the chance.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Like I mentioned previously, I don’t think Eren is a very romantic person. However, he never passes up the opportunity to buy you something. I think it’s his way of compensating for not being able to express his emotions very well with you. He’s got to show he cares about you somehow, right? Expect lots of chocolates from him randomly. I can also see him sneaking onto your laptop just to see what’s on your amazon wishlist so he can go and buy them for you later.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

All the time! He loves holding your hand; I’d say it’s the only form of PDA that he’s really comfortable with. It keeps him grounded, especially during particularly stressful times in his life. For example, in the canon universe, he’d hold onto your hand a little extra before and after expeditions. In a modern AU, I’d say he’d hold your hand before a particularly rigorous exam, or after he’s had a really rough day at work. It just reminds him that everything will be okay because you’re there. He’s never really had anything to bring him back down to earth when he gets all caught up with his emotions, so he relies on it pretty hard in that sense.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

TBH? He’d probably get pissed LMAO. But not at you, anger is basically the only way this boy can express emotions. Deep down, he’d be really, really worried about you. He’d probably sit around and mope. He’d grumble in response to any questions you’d ask him. He’s just in emotional overdrive, poor baby can’t process anything bad happening to you, it makes him want to go apeshit.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

I feel like he jokes around with you quite a bit, but more so in the form of teasing. If you’re short, be prepared for the short jokes. He’s unrelenting.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Say it with me: P👏A👏S👏S👏I👏O👏N👏A👏T👏E👏L👏Y. He does not halfass his kisses. He gives the type of kiss that leaves you gasping for breath afterwards, the type that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. Kissing Eren takes you to another dimension. It’s fucking amazing.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

I’d say mostly through gift giving and physical touch. He’s not very good with expressing that he loves you through words since one, he’s afraid he’ll say the wrong thing, two, he’s too scared that he’ll embarrass himself, and three, there literally isn’t a way to put the way he loves you into words. The way he feels about you transcends all languages.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The day you two first met. He will never forget the very first moment he laid eyes on you. He considers it to be the best day of his life (though he keeps that to himself because he’s afraid you’ll tease him about it and he wants to keep up his manly facade).

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Unintentionally hurting you or losing you. Eren can’t imagine life without you, he wants to keep you around for as long as he can. He’s afraid one day he’ll go too far in an argument and finally push you away forever. He’s not prepared for that at all.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

Loves to hug you just so he can smell you LMAO. Sounds weird, but your scent genuinely just fills him with joy.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Sticking to the classics here: Eren really likes to call you baby and babe, specifically babe. I feel like he only calls you baby when he’s feeling especially affectionate OR he’s begging for something/trying to get out of an argument without any consequences. LMAO

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Alone and at home. Of course, he doesn’t mind going out to movies or out to dinner every once and a while, but he prefers to spend time with you in private, so he can love you without anything to hold him back and no unwelcome and prying eyes.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Heat Waves by Glass Animals. More specifically, the slowed and reverb version on YouTube. I couldn’t explain why even if I tried. I just get the vibes.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

The thing with Eren is, he doesn’t mind laying out his past to you plain and simple. He will tell you every grueling detail of his childhood (including things he hasn’t even told Armin). Presently, he doesn’t keep any secrets from you. The word ‘secret’ doesn’t apply to you. The only thing that I’d say he really keeps a ‘secret’ are his emotions, but I covered that already.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

I want to say that you got together relatively quickly, but I just can’t. If I’m being realistic, I’d say nine months to a year. Eren just wasn’t sure if he was ready to commit (or if he was ready to have something to lose) so he just kept you around as a ‘really good friend’ or you guys had some sort of friends with benefits deal going on.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He doesn’t know how to act. He doesn’t know what to say. He just sits and listens to what you have to say, provides the tissues, and hugs you when you look like you need it. He’s really very comforting once he’s relaxed enough in your relationship to show you his more sensitive side.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Eren 100% loves to show you off. Especially to his friends. ESPECIALLY to Jean. It brings him a special type of joy when he can rub having you as his girlfriend in Jean’s face.

“She’s all mine, horse face.”

Poor Jean. Probably wasn’t even looking in your direction to begin with. Eren’s just a possessive and competitive shit.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

He thinks you’re a badass and respects your willingness in the Survey Corps. He would 100% fight for you; he would lay his life down for you if he needed to (let’s hope not). He would worry about you, obviously, but ultimately he knows that you can handle yourself so he’s not too worried. Often times you’re the one who has to keep him from getting chomped, so he’s really grateful to you in that sense. You allow him to fight on his own for the most part but when it gets a little too dangerous you swoop in.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

At first? Tch. Homeboy is OBLIVIOUS to anything you’re feeling. But after you’ve been together one, maybe two years? He can read you like a book.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Probably in a nonchalant way if I’m being honest. Just brings it up so casually in conversation one day that you almost completely missed it.

“Hey, Eren, what do you need from the grocery store? I’ve already got chocolate milk on the list, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Um…more shampoo? Some more shaving cream and…your hand in marriage?”

“Shampoo…shaving cream…and my hand in marriage. Got it.” Eren snickers. You knit your eyebrows together in confusion as to what he’s laughing at and scan over the contents of what you just wrote down to make sure you didn’t write down the wrong thing. When you notice it, you let out the loudest gasp known to man. “Wait- my…oh my god, are you serious?”

“Yep.”

“YOU COULD HAVE DONE IT IN A MORE OBVIOUS WAY, YOU ASSHOLE! I FEEL SO DUMB RIGHT NOW.”

“More obvious? What could be more obvious than that?” You mentally facepalm.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

He loves to play with your hair, but have I mentioned how much he loves it when you play with his hair? You could get this man to fall asleep in 10 seconds flat just by gently scratching your fingernails against his scalp.

#eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #shinkgeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger headcanons #eren jaeger fluff headcanons #eren jaeger fluff alphabet

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Eleven

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: first chapter after acosf!! im sorry for how short this one is, but acosf wrecked me and writing this put me back together. i hope it does something similar for you ❤️

***

“You say you’ve been doing better lately?”

The therapist’s office is plain, a little gloomy, but big windows overlook the center of town that make Nesta feel less suffocated.

She nods, “Yeah.”

“How would you describe ‘better’?” Dr. Bond— Lana, she insists on being called— has been endlessly patient with Nesta’s non-answers so far. Nesta almost feels bad and decides to throw the woman a rope.

“I’m not alone anymore,” she says. “I used to be alone all the time, but now I have friends, sort of… and a boyfriend.” She still loves that word. It’s never tasted so exciting before.

“You were always alone before this, then? Or were there just people that you didn’t consider noteworthy?”

A scowl rises to Nesta’s mouth. Damn, she works quick. “I was raised with two sisters in a one-bedroom apartment. I never got to be alone, but then I grew up, and…” Her mind wants to skip over the time she spent in college. “For the last couple of years, I holed up in my own place. Never wanted to talk to anybody or see them. If people took an interest in me, I shut them down because I didn’t have an interest in them.”

“You missed a few years,” Lana notes.

“What?”

“You’re twenty-four, and you moved out at eighteen. Where were you before getting your own place?”

Numbness seeps through Nesta at the question. She knows she can ask Lana to change the topic, but that will only bring it back later. “I had a boyfriend in college,” she says flatly. “I lived with him for a few years, but like you said, it isn’t noteworthy.”

“As a fellow lone wolf, I disagree.” Lana’s clinical polite face is unchanging. “Any person who you trust enough to let into your life is noteworthy.”

Nesta says nothing.

“I’m interested in these people you’ve chosen to trust,” her therapist continues after a beat of silence. “Why don’t we start with whoever you trust most?”

Nesta snorts. This she can talk about.

“His name is Cassian. I’ve been living with him ever since my apartment got flooded a couple of months ago, and he’s always been a good friend to me.” She sits there, thinking about what else to say. “I think I like him more than I’ve ever liked anybody.”

“This is the new boyfriend?”

Nesta nods.

“Do you compare him to the old one?”

Nesta doesn’t know what this lady’s angle is, but she answers carefully, “I used to. Back when I first moved in. I haven’t done it in a long time, though.”

“Why not?”

The answer is simple. “There’s no need to. He’s not comparable to anybody.”

“Is that why you opened up to him after two years of self-imposed isolation?”

Nesta looks away. “It wasn’t isolation,” she defends. “It’s just… after a lifetime of being subjected to the gaze of strangers, I wanted to hide. I liked hiding.” Mostly.

“What does that mean, the gaze of strangers?”

Question after cool question, this one. Nesta struggles to find a proper answer.

“You know how,” she starts slowly, “as soon as you start school, you’re placed into this bubble with a bunch of people who don’t know you and have no reason to care about you? There’s a shift in how you view people, and how people view you. And I thought I could leave it behind once I graduated high school, but it followed me to college and to parties and into everyday interactions.”

“What is it?”

“It’s this—” Nesta waves her hands, “judgment. It’s that thing you do as soon as you meet someone, and you try to determine whether they’re worth your time or not. Whether they’re above or below you in this made-up social hierarchy in your head.”

“Explain that more,” Lana says.

“We want to hang around people we find cool. And when we meet someone new, we inspect them, look them up and down, to see if they fit our definition of cool. We take them apart. Everyone does it, even you. And with me,” she shrugs, “I’m pretty, I wear the right clothes, I do my makeup. So at first glance, people think, ‘Oh, I can see myself getting to know her better. I can see myself liking her.’ But then they take a closer look at me, and it’s like…” Her fingers flutter in the air, trying to support her thoughts. “I can see their minds changing. ‘Nevermind, I was wrong. Nevermind, there’s something off with her. She’s a little quiet, a little weird, a little bitchy.’”

Lana narrows her eyes. “And Cassian doesn’t look at you like that?”

Nesta looks away. “He doesn’t look at anyone like that.”

It’s what used to make her so uncomfortable about him. She was incapable of fathoming his honesty, his genuineness, his kindness. She thought he was even weirder than her for it— she placed him beneath her on her social hierarchy for it.

Lana frowns thoughtfully. “And now you two live together?”

Nesta nods, then shrugs. “For the next twenty-four hours, we do. He’s helping me move back into my old place.”

Because that was another conversation she and Cassian had on Thanksgiving night. It was a long time coming, but also the perfect time.

“You’re saying your apartment has been ready for weeks? Why are you just telling me now?”

Nesta pillowed her face on his chest, not as upset at revealing the news as she would have been some days ago. “Because I was scared that if I moved out, I would lose my friendship with you.”

“That never would have happened—”

“We wouldn’t see each other every day anymore. Even if we didn’t go back to being complete strangers, the closeness would be lost.”

“You must not know me, then. I would’ve texted you every fucking hour. You’d never hear the end of me.”

“I couldn’t guarantee that back then.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “I can now.” She crawled higher up his body, lowering her voice to a secretive pitch. “Want to know why?”

“Why?” he whispered.

“Because you’re mine now. And that’s what I was waiting for while I made Lorene hold that shitty empty apartment for me. I was waiting for a catalyst, a revelation.” She pressed a kiss to his sternum. “And I most definitely got it.” The pleasant ache between her legs was proof enough. “Also,” she added, “it would be weird if you lived with your girlfriend before even having a first date with her.”

Cassian huffed a laugh. “You have a point there. We have been moving backwards, haven’t we?”

Nesta nodded into his skin.

He got a little quiet. “Still,” he said after a moment. “I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll see me every day. I’ll be fifteen minutes away.”

“I’ll still miss you.”

“I know.”

“What does talking about guys have to do with my therapy?” Nesta squirms, getting restless with the topic.

“Lots of things,” Lana says, putting down her notepad. “It gets you comfortable with expressing your feelings to me, and it teaches me about how you view the world. Besides, therapy isn’t just a rehashing of past traumas, you know. We can talk about whatever you want here, especially if it makes you feel good.”

“Well, I want to talk about something else.” She’s not spending this much money by the hour just to talk about how much she likes Cassian— she can go to Cassian for that for free.

“Like what?” Lana asks smoothly.

She’s offering an opening, finally, to the real reason that Nesta’s here.

Nesta pulls at the sleeves of her sweatshirt, wondering where to start. “I feel like I’ve been growing up lately,” she says carefully. “I have all these new people in my life to be responsible for, and I’m— I want to do it right. But I’m worried I won’t have room for new things until I pack up some of my old shit, so that’s why I’m here, I guess. I don’t want to hold on to all of my old shit anymore.”

At Lana’s encouraging silence, she continues, “I spent my whole life stuck in a suffocating town, and as soon as I left, I got stuck in a relationship. By the time I knew what freedom felt like, I— I’d been left behind. Everyone I knew was moving onto bigger things and all I had was this shitbag of a past. So I got a new place and started law school and called it a fresh start, but now I’m here and I’m not sure if I ever got better.”

She takes a sharp breath after everything that’s spilled.

Lana purses her lips, letting the room absorb Nesta’s words. After a long moment, she says, “Just because bad things stop happening to someone, doesn’t mean they instantly get better. It’s a good thing that you’re recognizing that before stepping into new relationships, Nesta.”

Lana glances at the clock on the wall. “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today, but this was a productive first session.” She offers a small smile. “Same time next week?” She says it as if it isn’t already a done deal.

Nesta nods gratefully anyway, unable to say anything else. As soon as she’s out the door, a pent-up sigh escapes her. That wasn’t so bad.

***

Later that night, Nesta doesn’t miss Cassian’s wistful stare as he takes down the painting he got her from the fall festival. Nor does she miss how slowly he packs it away.

Once the bedroom she made her home is as sparse as the day she moved in, all her things packed away neatly in boxes, Nesta wraps her arms around Cassian and pulls him to the bed. There, she lets him hold her close, their breaths and limbs intertwining as they lie in thoughtful silence.

“I can’t believe I’ll never see this room again,” Nesta says quietly.

Cassian’s eyes widen in alarm. “What do you mean, never again?”

“I’ll be staying in your room whenever I visit, remember?” Her underwear already occupies a drawer in his closet.

Cassian visibly relaxes when he remembers, then smiles. “Right. Of course.”

She lets herself sink deeper into his embrace. “I just realized you’ve never seen my apartment before.” He was waiting at the front door of Lorene’s place while Nesta collected her things all those weeks ago, but she cringes at the thought of him visiting now. The clear wealth gap between her and Cassian doesn’t usually show, but it’ll be undeniable with the cramped room she calls an apartment. “Maybe it’s best if I move back in without your help. There might not even be space there for your huge body.”

“Sounds more appealing by the minute.” He’s not joking. He tilts up Nesta’s chin so she’s forced to meet his eyes. “I can’t wait to start partaking in your life the way you took over mine. Spending nights at your place, meeting your friends, riding in your car instead of mine.”

Nesta swallows.

“I’m gonna miss you like hell, but it’ll be for the best.”

He’s right: this is what’s best for their budding relationship right now. Moving out, creating even a little bit of distance— all of it is so they can finally learn each other as lovers instead of roommates. So when they do come back together, which Nesta firmly believes they will, it’ll be stronger than ever before.

Some of their shared sadness flits away at the truth of it. She only places her hand on his cheek, content to appreciate this view— this beautiful, hazel-shaded view— without further chitchat or goodbyes.

Cassian is not as fond of the silence. “I need to tell you something,” he says seriously after a few minutes.

After only a handful of days dating Cassian, Nesta knows what he’s going to say. “Don’t,” she warns, unamused.

He grins conspiratorially and leans in even closer, until their mouths are almost brushing. “You’re my everything, Nesta.”

“Oh my god, stop it.” She squirms out of his hold and gets up, tossing the blankets off herself.

“No, come back!” He makes a grab for her sleeve. “We have to use the bed one last time—”

But she’s already running off.

***

Cassian carefully arranges the canvas painting on the wall, taking a step back to determine if it’s hanging straight. The ruby and amber leaves of the landscape stand out against the dull teal walls of Nesta’s basement apartment, but he’s just getting started.

The rest of Nesta’s things are half-unpacked from their cardboard boxes, but instead of going for the important shit first, he finds the box he specifically marked FAVES in bold letters the night before.

While Nesta wrangles to get her clothes back into her old closet in the background, Cassian crouches and rips open the small box. There, lying atop his girlfriend’s favorite trinkets and personal items, is the framed photo he snuck in without her noticing.

It’s of the two of them at the fall festival, taken mere hours before their first kiss. Nesta is pressed up close to Cassian (her excuse being that it was cold), and a genuine light fills her eyes, one that Cassian never thought he’d be able to capture on camera. Cassian himself isn’t looking at the camera, but down at Nesta with wind-flushed cheeks and a distant smile. Making sure she’s having a good time, that she truly wants to be there with him in that moment.

He never realized how close they looked in that picture until he had it printed and framed, not long after Nesta announced she was moving out. He can’t believe he didn’t see it sooner.

Standing up, he places the photo on Nesta’s wooden dresser. Nesta still has her head in the closet, moving things around, but Cassian makes no announcement of his gift to her. She’ll notice it sooner or later.

He clears his throat. “Wanna take a break and order Chinese?”

Nesta pops her head out of the closet, her ponytail ruffled and eyes narrowed at him. “Have you even been helping this whole time?”

“Standing here and looking pretty is harder than it seems, but I don’t expect any credit from you,” he jokes. “Just let me buy you lunch.”

Nesta grumbles something he chooses not to hear, but straightens up and rubs her spine with a wince. “I need a fucking chiropractor,” she mutters.

Guilt shoots through Cassian at that small wince, and he resolves to finish organizing Nesta’s closet for her before the day is over. Nesta goes on, “So? Still determined to split your time between here and the cabin?” She gestures to the apartment with an arm.

It’s really just a glorified single room, with a rusty kitchenette in the corner, a hallway near the stairs that holds the bathroom, and Nesta’s bed pushed against one wall. It’s nothing special, but Cassian loves it. Mostly because he can already envision each new nook and cranny to take Nesta against, and how he wants to wake up in that too-small bed on days that he’s too lazy to drive home.

“It’s perfect,” he says simply. Thank you for sharing your home with me, is what he really means. Speaking of homes—

Cassian digs around in his pocket, finding and pulling out a newly-minted silver key. “I almost forgot to give you this.”

Nesta frowns, coming forward to take the key from him. He uses the closeness as an excuse to wrap his arms around her waist while she inspects the object.

She glances up at him, eyes softer than they were a moment ago, lips slightly parted. “You’re giving me a key to the cabin?”

He shrugs casually. “You should��ve gotten one a long time ago.” She used either Cassian’s key or the spare while she lived there.

Her mouth is still open, and she closes it once, twice, before finally saying, “I don’t have a key to my place for you.”

“But I can get one,” she adds quickly. “If you want it, that is.”

Of course he wants it, but he keeps his face carefully neutral. “Only if you want me to have one. We’re still new, and this is your personal space.” He emphasizes your.

Nesta purses her lips, then says, “I’ll think about it.”

Cassian’s shoulders slump in relief— relief that Nesta is being honest with him instead of doing something she isn’t yet ready for. He’ll take her honesty over an apartment key any day.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he smiles brightly and shoves her toward the bed. “If we’re getting dumplings again then you can’t steal mine.”

***

a/n: fair warning that ive never been to therapy, but in stories therapists are usually a mode for character exploration and development, which is what nesta's therapy will be for.

also im so glad i got to meet gwyn in acosf and im so excited to introduce her into this fic too!! if you have ideas for her origin story feel free to share because nothing is planned yet

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @swankii-art-teacher

#a favor #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #nessian fic #ncssianwrites

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imaginejamesandsirius · 3 years

Note

Hi. Thank you for your wonderful works, they always make my day! I would like to request a story featuring pregnant Sirius and James not reacting positively at first. Perhaps even some nice Sirius&Lily friendship with Sirius crying on Lily's shoulder and Lily later setting James straight. Thank you. Hankycka

((A/N: Nothing explicit, but there are mentions to issues conceiving, just in case that bothers anyone))

"I'm pregnant," Sirius said, smiling.

"Oh no," James said.

Sirius's smile was gone in an instant. "What?"

"No, I didn't mean- it's- oh bugger."

He blinked at James. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," James said miserably, covering his face with his hands.

"Great," Sirius said flatly, his good mood leaving in a rush like air being let out of a balloon. "I'm so happy to see that you're overwhelmed with joy. I'll just go share the good news."

He didn't know what he was going to do or where he was going to go, but he ignored James calling his name and left, then found himself on Lily's doorstep and figured why not? Lily probably wouldn't react the same way that James had, and he could use someone being nice to him right now. He knocked on the door and waited anxiously for it to open. It was times like this that he was glad they lived in the same neighbourhood, because otherwise he would've walked around the block, then gone back home and asked James if he was over it yet.

Lily answered the door a minute later. "Sirius, hi. Come on in," she said, holding the door wider to make room for him. "I wasn't expecting you. Did I forget that we have plans? And do you want a cuppa?"

"No, no plans, but some herbal tea would be nice, if you've got it," he said, pulling off his shoes and following Lily to the kitchen. "Do you have a minute or are you busy?"

"I've always got time for you. Besides, Remus is at his doctor, so I could use a distraction while I wait to hear from him. What's up?"

"I'm pregnant."

Lily beamed, turning to face him with the kettle still in her hands. "That's great! I bet James was over the moon. Erm, wasn't he?" she added upon seeing his downtrodden expression.

"Not so much."

"Well what did he say?"

"'Oh no' and 'bugger'."

Lily blinked. "Please tell me you're joking."

Sirius shook his head. Saying it aloud to someone else didn't make him feel any better about it. In fact, it made him feel worse. James-- as Lily said-- should've been over the moon. There had been a few years where they thought that they'd have to try and adopt before learning that Sirius was still fertile and could carry naturally (though it might take some time with his medical complications). It should've been the best news ever, or at the very least, good news. "I thought he'd be happy, but he acted like it was the end of his bloody life. I just- I know that it wasn't smart or healthy or whatever the fuck, but I walked out and... wound up here. I wanted him to be ecstatic about this; I was when I found out, and it lasted all morning until he-" Sirius broke off with a frustrated sigh. "I know that it's big news, but I thought it was happy big news. I was expecting some disbelief, yeah, because we've only been trying for a couple months and Doctor Prewett told us it might take years, but I never thought he'd be upset about it. I don't really know what to do when James is upset with me. He usually isn't, so I've never had to learn how to deal with it. I mean," he amended a second later, "little fights over where I put the remote and whose turn it is to clean the loo, but nothing like this."

Lily put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. She finished filling up the kettle and put it on the stove. "I'm going to make a call, but it shouldn't take long. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay," Sirius said, and he was so dejected that he didn't find it strange she suddenly had to call someone.

She went to her room and closed the door, dialling James's number.

"Hello?"

"Hi James, it's Lily. I thought you might want to know that Sirius is over at my house."

He breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I'm sure you're not my biggest fan right now, but thank you for calling. He didn't take his phone or his keys, and I didn't know if he was going to come back or- thanks, Lily. Is he okay?"

"Honestly? No. What were you thinking? I thought you wanted to have a baby."

"I do, and we do, but I've got news of my own that doesn't make the timing great."

"Okay," Lily said slowly. "I want to be understanding and respect the fact that this is your relationship and everything, but maybe you should've said that to Sirius instead of 'oh no'? Just- look, obviously I don't know the specifics of your relationship, and I don't like to stick my nose in your business because we made that deal our last year of Hogwarts that if I kept out of your relationship, you'd stay out of mine, but he's really sad. Like, ridiculously sad. He doesn't know what's going on, and he thinks you're mad at him or summat. So please, come over and apologise or say that you'll explain or whatever it is you need to do. Because it's kind of a prick move to make a pregnant person this sad."

"I know; I panicked. I'll be right over. Can you tell him I'm on my way? Or hand him the phone so I can tell him?"

"I'll tell him. And James? Thanks."

"No problem, Evans. I know you're a disaster when people start crying."

Lily snorted but didn't argue-- mostly because it was true. She hung up and tucked her phone back in her pocket as she walked back to the kitchen. She meant to tell Sirius that James was on his way, but she froze when she saw that he'd started crying. "Erm." She was having a bit of an 'oh no' moment herself. She wasn't good when people were crying, but she also wasn't going to just leave Sirius like this. She walked over and gave him a hug. "It's okay."

Sirius sniffled and didn't say anything. He hugged her back, so she figured she should get comfortable as they waited for James to arrive.

It didn't take long, and he didn't bother to knock on the door. For once, it didn't annoy Lily that he walked right in. Sirius wiped at his face when he heard footsteps, and he glared when he saw that it was James. "What're you doing here?" he asked, and Lily shot James an apologetic look that hopefully conveyed she hadn't had the opportunity to tell Sirius that he was coming over.

"Well, you're my husband, and you sort of ran out before I could explain."

"What's to explain? I'm pregnant and you're mad about it."

"Can we go home and talk?" James asked, which was good; Lily had already been present for more of this conversation than she wanted.

"No," Sirius muttered petulantly.

James glanced at Lily. "I know it's your house, and I'm sorry, but do you think you could give us a minute?"

"Sure. I'll just erm-" she jerked a thumb over her shoulder "-be in the spare room." She'd be able to find something to do there until they were done. And if she couldn't, she'd be able to sit and wait just as well in the spare room as she could in front of the telly.

James walked over and sat in a chair next to Sirius. "I'm sorry I reacted like that," he said quietly.

"Why did you?" Sirius asked, looking over at him with betrayal written all over his face. "We were trying to get pregnant, and now that it's happened you're having second thoughts? It's a little late for that."

"No," James said immediately. "Not second thoughts, nothing like that, love. It's just that the timing's kind of- well, rubbish. Moody announced the team for the new project over in the States."

He blinked at his husband, eyes wide. James didn't have to say that he was on the team for Sirius to know that's what had happened.

"It got announced today, and I was trying to think of how to tell you. I thought we might put off trying to have a baby for the next year so that I would be able to move back home, and-" his breath caught and he didn't bother trying to finish his sentence. "I don't know what to do. I can turn down the assignment, but it would set back my career; this is supposed to be a golden opportunity. If I turn it down, there won't be another chance like this for years. Although," James said with a sigh, "maybe it's worth considering. There's no point in working on advancing if I'm going to be taking care of a baby two years from now. And back when we first started talking about kids, I promised you that I'd be there for you for all of it. My point is, we need to talk about this. I don't want to make a decision without thinking it through, and I'm sorry about not telling you how happy I am." He started to smile, and when he reached for Sirius's hand, Sirius turned to twine their fingers together. "I mean, bloody hell Sirius, a baby? We've been dreaming about that for years. Of course I'm happy. I'm just worried. And- yeah, a little upset that these two great things are happening at the same time which means I won't get to enjoy one of them as much as I was hoping."

"Yeah," Sirius said, because he one hundred percent understood what James meant. "We can- I dunno. Eat, sleep on it. Talk more." With his free hand, he wiped at his nose. It itched, but there was nothing he could do about that here. "Ah bugger, I did sort of take over Lily's day, didn't I?" He retracted his hand from James's and got to his feet, feeling embarrassed that he'd burst into tears at Lily and Remus's house. And that he'd run away from James. Gods, what had he been thinking? He'd been upset, yes, but if he wanted some space, he could've just gone to their room. Or to the backyard. Hindsight was twenty-twenty.

"I'm sure she'll forgive us," James said, pulling him into a quick hug. He pressed a kiss to the side of Sirius's head. "I love you so much, you know that?"

"I know."

"And I'm so sorry I didn't tell you what was going on right away."

"You did try, in your defense," Sirius mumbled.

"Well I should've been quicker about it." He kissed Sirius's head again, then stepped away. "I'll go tell Lily we're leaving."

#prongsfoot #marauders #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #fanfic #background lily evans/remus lupin #no magic au #established relationship #married #post hogwarts #siriuslystarbucks #mpreg

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cyhyr · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 5

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

Pairing: Iruka/Mizuki ; Iruka & Naruto ; Iruka & Kakashi

WC: ~1900

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: A/B/O, pregnancy, abortion, abusive relationship, pack dynamics, lying

A/N: whooo two updates in one night now I'm only two days behind 🥳 this fic has a lot of my own a/b/o headcanons which I don't really explain, sorry. This is a scene of a story idea I've been stewing on for some time, but one which I do not think I will further develop.

This is also unbeta-ed. sorrynotsorry.

Tagging for Whumptober: @sweetysamaa, @atereal, @kelkage

Naruto runs ahead and turns the corner into the compound before Iruka can admonish him to be careful and watch where he’s going. He follows behind slower, weighed down by a grocery bag in each hand, and turns into the compound in a good mood. A day out with Naruto is always pleasant and makes him happy—even though the four-year-old isn’t his biological pup, Iruka knows he’s as good as imprinted on the kid. He’s so glad that Hatake-san had approached him to be a part of his pack. He likely never would have gotten this chance, otherwise.

He smiles softly. They’re only an embryo, barely the size of a sunflower seed now, but so very precious and already the whole pack is excited to have their second pup.

“I don’t care if it’s your home, Iruka’s my omega—”

“Our omega,” Hatake-san growls.

“But the pup is mine.”

Naruto creeps back to Iruka’s side at some point and takes his hand. Iruka’s other hand slips to his belly, resting protectively over where his new pup is growing. In the garden, Hatake-san is mostly calm, hands in his pockets and eye staring the other alpha down. Mizuki is… less calm. He’s posturing, pacing back and forth and swinging his arms around wildly.

“This pack wouldn’t exist without me,” Hatake-san growls. “The pup should be given the choice to be raised as Hatake.”

Around them are the pack betas. Anko is trying to put herself between Mizuki and Hatake-san, while Gai-sensei and Tenzō-san are also trying to physically deter the other alpha from starting a fight.

Naruto whines, soft and scared, pulling on Iruka’s uniform pants. “Why are they fighting?”

Iruka puts himself slightly in front of Naruto. “Let’s go inside. We don’t need to be here for all this, okay?”

They barely get to the door when Mizuki explodes. “Iruka is mine and that pup is mine,” he snarls. “I’ll take him and leave this pack without an omega, and then you’ll lose your precious monster-child. I hold the cards here, Kakashi; you’re the one with silly things like bonds.”

Iruka pushes Naruto inside and glares over his shoulder at Mizuki and Hatake-san, still posturing and snarling at each other. If he weren’t carrying, he’d put himself between them just like Anko is doing, but…

He looks over at Naruto, now playing in the corner of the kitchen with the collection of blocks Gai had bought him a few days ago. Mizuki could take Iruka out of the pack; he is right in his claim to be the pup’s sire, and can easily force a mating bite with little or no repercussions. If this were to happen, Hatake-san would lose his right to have Naruto as an adopted pup—Sandaime did say that this whole thing was contingent on Hatake having a pack, and without an omega the pack will fall apart. Naruto would end up back in the orphanage; Iruka’s not delusional enough to believe that Mizuki would let him keep Naruto, even if he has imprinted.

Iruka braces his lower back on the kitchen counter and shuts his eyes. He doesn’t want to have to make this choice.

He lays his hands over his belly and weeps.

“I need you to be very good today,” Iruka says, holding Naruto’s hand as they walk through the village.

“You always want me to be good, ka-chan! And I am!!”

Iruka smiles. “That’s true. I do love it when you’re good. But today more than usual, I really need you to be on your best behavior.”

He opens the doors to the hospital and herds Naruto inside. Mizuki is at the Academy, Anko at T&I, Gai is with Kakashi doing some odd training exercises, and Tenzō is… well, Iruka’s not supposed to know that Tenzō is ANBU, but he saw the beta’s mask a few days ago.

Everyone is occupied.

He takes Naruto to the elevator and together they ride up to the second floor. Just beyond the elevator doors is a small waiting room that smells of rich, pregnancy pheromones. Half of the chairs are taken.

Iruka goes up to the reception desk and says, “Hi, I’m Umino Iruka; I called last night?”

The receptionist looks up at him and nods. “I remember. You can have a seat.”

It doesn’t take long at all for his name to be called, and he collects Naruto from the play table and quietly follows the nurse into the exam rooms.

“How far along are you?” the nurse asks once they’re in the privacy of a closed room. The door shuts heavily under her palm.

“Seven weeks.”

“Any mating bites, courtings, packmates?”

“I have a pack—three betas and two alphas. No courting or mating bites though.”

“And the pup here?”

Iruka puts his hand on Naruto’s shoulder and gently squeezes. “He’s adopted. We’re imprinted.”

The nurse makes a note. “Congratulations,” she murmurs. “Do you want to disclose a reason for termination?”

“No, thank you.” He pauses, considering; then says, “but it is urgent, if I could get it done today.”

She looks up at him and sets her folder and pen aside. She takes her glasses off. “Umino-sensei, are you safe within your pack?”

Naruto looks up at him with a small head tilt.

Iruka reiterates, “It’s urgent, and I’d like to have it done today. If at all possible.”

The nurse purses her lips and says, “I’ll see what we can do for you, Umino-sensei. We’ll need to do a pelvic exam first, so if you could get undressed?” She pulls out a modesty blanket from a drawer behind her, and then leaves the room.

As soon as it’s back to just him and Naruto, Iruka falls apart. He leans against the edge of the exam table and hugs his middle, sniffing and crying. And then Naruto is right in front of him, reaching up to his face and patting his cheeks. “Ka-chan, why are you crying?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t—I’m okay, I promise. I will be okay.”

Naruto frowns and rests his temple against Iruka’s belly. “What does ‘terminate’ mean?”

Iruka cries harder, hugging Naruto tightly and tries to think about the best way to answer the question. He hasn’t had Naruto for more than half a year, but he knows he’ll do anything to keep him… even if it means aborting this growing pup before they can become a reason for Mizuki to take him away.

He has a responsibility to his pup—to Naruto. He has a responsibility to his pack—not just Mizuki.

“You… Naruto, you know I love you and wouldn’t trade you for anything?”

“Yeah?? Ka-chan, what—?”

“Your sibling,” Iruka sniffs, “they can’t… I can’t. Naruto, ‘terminate’ means ‘to stop’. We’re here today so that we can stop my pregnancy.”

Naruto looks up at him and asks, “Is this because of what Mizuki-nii was saying last night? Because Kaka-nii would never let him take you away, I know that!”

Iruka smiles thinly at Naruto, brushes back his bangs. “Mizuki has a right to the pup, as their sire. And if he wanted to bond and leave the pack to raise his pup, I can be compelled to go with him.”

Naruto hugs him tighter. “And so you want to stop being pregnant so Mizuki-nii can’t take you away?”

Iruka nods. “I have other reasons, but yes.”

“What’s going to happen to the baby?”

“They… They’re going to be removed from my body, and won’t become a part of our pack.”

“But if they’re removed, then… then, they’ll die?”

“Naruto, they’re not really alive right now. And something that’s not alive can’t die.”

“But—”

“Naruto, what we’re stopping is the eventuality of a new pup. It’s. It’s a hard choice, but one I’m very sure about making.”

“That’s not—” Naruto buries his face into Iruka’s belly and murmurs something, muffled against Iruka’s shirt.

“What?”

Naruto lifts his head and cries, “I don’t want my little sibling to grow up in a bad pack! You’re making the right choice; but can I get another chance at being a big brother someday??”

Iruka kneels down and kisses Naruto’s forehead. “Of course, Naruto. You’ll be the best big brother ever, when the pack is ready to give you one, okay?” Naruto nods rapidly, and Iruka hugs him closer still. “I just hope the rest of the pack will understand someday.”

“If they don’t,” Naruto frowns, “then we leave the pack and start our own. We don’t need people who don’t care about you, Ka-chan.”

A knock sounds at the door and Iruka clears his throat. “Sorry, I’m not ready yet.”

“That’s alright, Umino-sensei. I’ll come back in another few minutes,” the nurse says through the door without opening.

Iruka smiles at Naruto and brushes his hair aside. “I have to get ready. Could you go and sit on one of those chairs and be good and patient?”

Naruto nods and sits down. Iruka gets ready for termination.

Later that night, Iruka tells the pack that he and Naruto had been out shopping and he tripped over and landed poorly onto his stomach, resulting in a miscarriage. His betas all cry over him—Gai-sensei, in particular, soaks through the fabric on Iruka’s shoulder. Anko and Tenzo-san both scent him in comfort and solidarity. The two alphas… Hatake-san looks upset, but asks to scent Iruka to ensure he’s alright; that they can always try again for another pup, but they can’t replace Iruka. Iruka accepts the scenting, and breathes in the alpha’s deep woodsy scent in return.

Mizuki is livid. He storms away to their bedroom without offering to scent Iruka. Iruka’s worried about what’s going to happen later that night…

And then, when he’s alone cleaning up after dinner, Hatake-san approaches him and asks to speak to him privately. Iruka dries off his hands and follows the alpha to the library, where they close the door and then Hatake-san asks, “Why did you lie to the pack?”

“I didn’t—”

“Iruka-sensei. Please. I could smell the lie on you,” Hatake-san holds up his hands. “I just want to know the truth, please?”

Iruka folds his arms across his chest. He aches everywhere—the procedure was invasive; he hadn’t wanted to take the pills to force a miscarriage in case Mizuki found out and threw the second dose away. “I elected to abort the pregnancy,” he says.

Hatake-san nods. “Alright. Thank you for letting me know.”

Iruka narrows his eyes. “You’re not… mad?”

“Why would I be? It’s your body. You know yourself better than I, and I trust your judgement. I wouldn’t have asked you to become my omega—my pack omega,” he quickly corrects himself, a light blush peeking over his mask, “if I didn’t trust you.”

He smiles softly. “Thank you,” Iruka says.

“Did you need a separate place to sleep tonight? I’ve heard that omegas tend to want to nest alone after a pregnancy loss, however it happens.”

“No, I’m alright.”

Hatake-san nods and takes a few steps closer. “Is it alright if I scent you again before you head to bed, then?”

“You’re one of my alphas,” Iruka says. “You don’t need to ask.”

“And yet, I’m asking.”

“I—” Iruka feels his own face heat up. Mizuki never asks to scent him… and neither do any of the betas. It’s… nice, to be asked. “Yes, please, Hatake-san.”

“We’re pack, Iruka-sensei. Please call me Kakashi.”

“Oh. Um, okay. Kakashi-san.” Iruka nods, holding out his wrists. “You may.”

#whumptober2021 #no.5 #i've got red in my ledger #naruto #fic #abortion #pregnancy #abusive relationship #a/b/o au #lying #umino iruka #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #mizuki #my writing

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literaila · 4 years

Text

these memories live with me

spencer reid x reader

summary: a collection of letters the reader writes to spencer :D

warnings: fluffy. kinda cute. there are memories. some inferences to death. nothing too bad. and bad writing.. but yeah

****

Spencer,

Do you remember the time we went to the beach?

You swore to me, over and over, that you weren't going.

“Y/N, there is an average of 3,536 fatal drownings at the beach each year, not to mention the boat accidents. We aren't going.”

I just laughed. I was pretty sure you’d never actually been to the beach before that. It didn't seem like it, seemed more like you were trying to protect us from danger that wasn't there. I’m not sure if it was for me or for you.

Do you remember laughing? Do you remember how much fun we had? How sunburned we were the next day?

Do you remember me running away from you, throwing me in the water? Do you remember that little boy coming up and asking you to build a sandcastle with you? Do you remember getting dinner later that night and spilling sand onto the booth? You hated that. Do you remember the glow we had for days after? The cold showers we had to take?

I don't think anything could’ve wiped the smile off of your face that day. Before that, I don't think I’d ever seen you have so much fun.

You’re usually so reserved, usually, you throw out facts to fill the silence, and explain to me everything about everything. Except for you. You never really told me anything about you before that. But that day, god that day you just lit up. Suddenly nothing had to be kept secret, suddenly you weren't afraid to be yourself, weren't afraid to tell me about the books you were reading, the thoughts you were thinking, the interesting little things that I didn't know could be so interesting.

That day you told me about your Mom. You told me how you’d always felt guilty, guilty for not being there for her, guilty for letting her be alone all the time, you told me that you wished you could visit more, that your Mom deserved more visits, more time with her only family. You told me that you could never get the image of her begging you not to go to the hospital, to stay home, out of your head. You told me that was the one thing you wished you could forget. That having a memory like yours was only good when you needed to be a textbook.

You told me that you felt really tired.

But you were smiling. You were telling me all these things about you, all these things that would break a normal person down, that would crush anyone else's bones in half, but you were saying all of these horrible things, all of these things I wished I could erase from existing, and you were smiling.

I still can't imagine how you were still smiling.

I can't imagine how you could tell me all of that and still have fun, still mention loving the beach after we left. I can't imagine how that could be a happy memory for you. But I’m glad it was. I’m glad I was the first person to introduce you to the joys of the beach.

You have always been stronger, been so much better, so much more than everyone else. I will never know how you turned out to be such an amazing person. I will never understand how good you are. I will never understand.

But I still know that I wouldn't change a thing about you.

You always smiled with me. I’ve never known why.

That day at the beach you introduced a new side of yourself to me, you decided to tell me the truth, but you also didn't allow me any room to feel bad for you. You decided to smile instead, and ask me if I wanted to go swimming.

That's one of my favorite days with you. One of my favorite nights.

I wish we had taken more pictures. Wish I could look at you smiling all the time, and wish that I had more memories of that day.

Do you remember going to the beach?

That was fun.

She sighed and dropped her pen. She rubbed her eyes. Maybe it was time for bed.

Spence,

Do you remember going to that pottery class?

From our bed, I can see the distorted pot that we made together.

You were the one who set up the date. We wanted to try something new together, something that wasn't just a movie. You said pottery was the perfect thing. And while I complained before going, secretly I was happy to go with you. Mostly because you were so excited.

You explained it all to me before we were there, told me about the proper way to make a clay pot, the best way to spin on a wheel, you explained everything to me before we even left the car, crammed all that information into your brain for that one date.

It was adorable.

Your eyes were so bright that night, you looked so excited to be able to learn something new with me, even though you basically already knew how to do everything. You were practically buzzing in anticipation on the way over, you were jumping up and down in my car and you were still smiling.

I love your smile.

Have I ever mentioned that? That I love it almost as much as I love you? It's one of my favorite things about you, one of the only things that never ceases to make me amazed- besides your brain of course -because it's so beautiful. I hope you know that.

But once we got there you pulled me out of the car, barely letting me get the keys out of the ignition. You begged me to hurry up,

“This is exciting Y/N, come on!”

And once we were in there, we had no idea what we were doing.

Apparently, reading and watching videos is not the same as doing it.

I think you were upset about that.

I think you wanted to impress me, wanted to show me what amazing things we could make together. But, when we finally got to sit down, both of us were not really paying attention. I think it's partly your fault we weren't listening to the instructor because you told me you knew how to do it, but you’ve always disagreed and said it was my fault.

In the end, we left with muddy hands, dirty clothes, and what looks like an oval-shaped vase.

I love that vase.

You got mad at me for putting it on display. Secretly I think you love it too.

I can feel how warm you were even while writing this, I can still imagine your soft breath on my neck, the kisses you gave my neck and cheeks when we did something right together. I can still feel your hands on mine, trying to intertwine but never quite making it due to the slick.

I still smile when I think of the pout on your face when the wheel stopped spinning.

Although we have a terribly made pot sitting in our house due to your idea of a date, I’m glad we went. I’m glad I got to spend time with you. I’m glad that we have this memory, one that isn't perfect, just for the two of us. I’m glad we can look back on that night and laugh at it. I’m glad you decided that making pottery was a good idea.

I’m glad that you enjoyed it as much as you did. Before and after.

I’m glad you got the chance to plan something for us, I’m glad we found time in between your busy schedule. I’m glad I still have the pot.

But I will admit, my favorite part of that night was sitting in your lap.

Her head was falling from her body. Nothing could keep it up. Maybe some more sleep would help.

Love,

Do you remember our first fight?

Do you remember how scared I was, how used I was to all of my boyfriends leaving at any sign of danger, how terrified I was of you leaving me? Of you changing your mind.

Because I was, I was so terrified.

I will admit I don't have the best taste in men, that I choose guys that are bound to hurt me because I’m afraid, I’m afraid that I’m unloveable, I’m afraid that everyone will leave, that I’m not good enough for anyone to stay. I’m afraid that no matter what, nothing will last for me because that's just how I am, that's just how it's supposed to be. I was always afraid that the cards I had would never change.

So, when you got mad, when I got upset, when we decided that it was time to fight, that not everything could be perfect for us, I froze.

We were fighting over some silly little thing, about me going out late, being out too late for you. And looking back, I can see that you were just scared. I can see that it didn't matter how safe I could be, that you knew what kind of evil was in the world, that you understood all the bad people more than I could ever imagine. I can see that you just wanted me to be safe, that you just didn't want anything bad to happen for me. Looking back, and seeing the expression that remained on your face, the little bit of concern, the frustration which I now know was directed at yourself, rather than me. You were always so frustrated with yourself for wanting to keep me safe.

I can see why you were upset now. I can understand it. But, I can also see myself, and I can see how annoyed I was with you taking care of me, I can see how annoying it was that you thought I couldn't take care of myself.

I think that's why we started fighting.

I think that even though my past was a big part of my fear, I think I was also scared because I knew you were just trying to protect me. I knew that you were only doing whatever you could to keep me from all the bad things you saw every day.

I think I was scared that you would leave, that you would see I didn't want to be controlled, that one of us would leave and that would be it.

I remember crying. Do you remember that? Do you remember the sobs that came out of my mouth once I saw what was happening, once I realized that we were actually fighting, that we were not perfect like I thought we were?

I remember you being scared of my tears. I remember your face turning from irritation and concern to shock and worried. I can still hear your voice begging me to stop crying, that I didn't need to cry, that there was nothing wrong.

I can still see the hurt in your eyes at my fear. I can still see how much it hurt you that I was upset.

I can still hear you saying “I’m not going anywhere baby, shh, I’m not going anywhere without you beautiful.”

I’m not sure how you knew exactly what to say, but you did.

Sometimes, when I’m upset, when I don't feel good, I play your voice, your words on repeat in my head. I listen to your calm reassuring voice, I listen to the warmth that masked everything you said to me even then when our relationship was so young.

I’ve always chosen bad guys, always picked from the bunch of people I knew would leave me, the people I knew I wouldn't get too attached too because I didn't want that. I didn't want to make a commitment and then lose it. I’ve always thought like that, always picked the people I decided to love like that.

Except for you.

I chose to love you because you were worth it. Because I knew that even if you left, even if we couldn't be together forever, that you were worth it, that even a day with you was better than nothing at all. Even when we didn't know each other well, I knew that.

I’ve always thought you were so much better than everyone else.

I was right.

I’m so glad that our small fights taught us so much about each other.

She yawned and looked at the clock. It was too late. She wasn't supposed to be up. She went to bed before anybody got there.

Pumpkin,

Do you remember the first time I told you I love you?

Because I do. Because I still live in that moment sometimes. My epiphany.

I remember driving with you, for twelve hours, because that's what we liked to do. We liked to spend all day in the car together, all day just talking and listening to music and watching the world pass behind us. I remember that.

Sometimes, I still want to go on long drives with you like I used to.

I loved that so much.

I remember you complaining about the music, I remember you looking over to me and covering your ears, I remember laughing.

I remember you smiling at my laugh. You always smiled when I laughed.

I remember asking you if you wanted something if there was any place you wanted to stop before I started driving home.

At that point, I already knew I loved you. Before that moment it was clear to me that I loved you. It was the feeling of stars bursting in my stomach, the intense want to be around you whenever I could, the tears in my eyes at your pain, the laugh in my voice at just your smile.

It was your warmth, your undying kindness, your much too willing acceptance of who I was. It was everything about you that I loved. There was nothing that I didn't love about you.

But, in the end, I think it was your smile.

Your smile always paved the way for me, always brightened up every day, always made me feel better, always filled my heart with nothing but bold emotions, with nothing but everything that I was feeling at once.

Your smile was always so intense, always so loud and bright, always there when it could be because you rarely stopped smiling.

I think that's what I loved most about it, that you never stopped.

And, at that moment when you smiled at me, your happiness was as plain as day, at that moment, I couldn't stop myself from telling you that I was in love with you.

Spencer, I know you’ve denied this before, I know that you’ve always said that you were never shocked, that it wasn't too fast because you loved me too.

But you were surprised. Your face was frozen for a moment, and you looked at me, not in a bad way, no you never looked at me in a bad way, but this was an expression that I had never seen come from you before, this was something entirely new.

You looked like you were in awe.

Like you couldn't believe I could love you like you had just imagined the words in your head like they weren't actually real.

And no matter how much you deny it, I know the truth. I don't need your words to confirm it.

But after I blurted out the words, looked shocked at myself, after that, you looked at me and finally asked

“Is it because I don't like this song?”

And I laughed again. And you smiled again.

I love you.

I will always love you.

The tears running down her face were nothing. The hand rubbing her shoulder was nothing.

Spence,

My shoulders hurt today.

I’m not sure why. I haven't been doing much. I never really do much when you aren't here.

But my shoulders hurt.

I wish you were here. Whenever my shoulders hurt and you’re in bed, you always offer to give me a back rub, always persist at my initial refusal, always tell me that you just want to be close to me for a little while.

And you’d always whisper little things to me, always telling me how beautiful I was, how amazing I looked without any makeup on, how incredibly harsh I was on myself. You were always telling me just how proud of me you were, just how much work you’d seen me do, you always made sure to let me know that I was appreciated.

As if I wouldn't know that by the look in your eyes.

I wish you were here now so I could feel that again. So I could feel your hands rub up and down my back, so I could feel the warm pressure you always use to get out the knots. I wish I could hear your voice in my ear, the breath on my cheek. I wish I could ask you to rub my shoulders, not take it for granted this time.

I miss you, Spence.

My shoulders are sore without you.

Come back soon.

She didn't utter a word after that.

Dr. Reid,

When we first met, when you first explained to me about your job, you persisted the fact that you weren't going to be there all the time, that I wouldn't get you whenever I wanted like a normal boyfriend. You told me that we were going to have to work to be together, that our relationship would take work, that you understood if I didn't want to do that if it was too much for me.

And I don't think you ever understood.

Although I knew that you were going to be gone a lot, that it would be hard nights alone, cold nights waiting for you on the couch. That there were going to be nights when I might regret it, nights that I might miss you so much that I’d wish that we had never known each other in the first place. I knew that there were going to be days where I was lonely, days that you couldn't help me with my feelings, days when you had to be an agent first, and a boyfriend second. I knew that my attachment issues were going to be a struggle, that it was going to take more work on my part to be okay with you leaving all the time, that it was going to be hard to be so far apart from you for so long.

I knew all of these things.

And you’d warned me about them, you’d looked at me with hard eyes and explained everything, explained everything as if it would matter to me. You frowned for the longest time, and all I could remember was wishing for your smile.

You didn't understand then, and I still don't think you understand.

I could never leave you. I could never ever let go of you.

Almost as soon as we’d met, you became like a drug to me, so relaxing, so amazing, so perfect. I knew that I was obsessed with you far too quick, that my addiction was too intense too fast. I knew that, but you never did.

You never understood how much I tried to resist, tried to keep myself apart from you so that I couldn't become addicted, you never knew how much I had failed at doing that.

Two months in, and you warned me, but it was too late at that point. Your warning wouldn't do a thing because you were a drug I couldn't get off of, you were something that was permanently attached to me.

You never understood that.

I wish I understood more.

She fell asleep at her desk. Pen in hand.

Spencer,

I remember the first time you told me you loved me.

I remember how elated I felt, how high my heart had soared.

It was a couple weeks after I told you, a couple of weeks of pretending I wasn't hurt by your hesitation, a couple of weeks of trying to come to terms with the fact that you didn't love me yet.

It was a rough couple of weeks for me.

But you erased all of it, every inch when you mumbled the words while we were watching that movie, the one I can't remember the name of because I was so distracted by you.

You have always been so amazing to me.

Always so loyal, always so devoted.

There has never been anyone who has loved anyone as much as I love you. I don't think any amount of words, any synonym for love will compare with how I feel.

It's unfortunate I can't tell you exactly.

I’ve always hoped you could feel it. That you didn't need words when you had me.

I remember never being hesitant to say it again after you told me, I remember not being afraid anymore once I knew that you loved me back.

It was a breaking point for us, the start of a new chapter. It was almost an entirely new book.

I’ve always been sure that I loved you more.

But, I think that as long as you loved me even a fraction of an inch as much as I loved you, it would be enough.

It was enough that you loved me.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She lifted her head slightly.

My love,

They think I need to go someplace else. They think I need to getaway.

Emily says I should stop writing.

They all think that it isn't good for me.

I love you.

Spencer,

Do you remember the time you forgot about our anniversary?

Do you remember how tired you were? How exhausted you had been when you got home and I was waiting for you on the couch.

You seemed so disappointed in yourself, so upset for disappointing me.

I was worried about you that day.

Because, no matter what I did, no matter how many things I had planned, that day there weren't enough smiles.

It was okay though.

Because the next day you made up for it. It was a day late, but it was perfect.

Thank you for tying yourself to me.

Thank you for devoting yourself to me.

Thank you for remembering everything I’ve ever told you.

I wish I could remember.

When she handed over the journal, they all pretended not to notice the tear stains ratted along it.

Reid,

I unpacked some of your boxes today.

I moved.

I don't like it in this new apartment.

It's too cold without you. It doesn't smell like you. It doesn't have the bookcases. It doesn't feel like ours anymore.

I unpacked our vase.

And the seashells we collected.

And the movie ticket.

And the polaroid pictures.

And the scrapbook.

I found the ring today.

Spencer,

I love you.

I’ve always loved you.

She sobbed as she pulled at her hair, as she fell to the floor, battered in scars and bruises that would never show up on her skin, battered in nothing but imaginary marks that she didn't think would never go away.

She hated black dresses.

Baby,

You used to call me that.

I miss it.

I went to your funeral today.

I don't think I’ll ever remember you the way I want to.

I wish we had taken more pictures.

Spencer,

This is the last letter for now.

I’m not allowed to write anymore.

Everyone has insisted I get out. So I’m going to.

I’m moving even farther this time.

It's been a year my love.

I miss you. I love you.

Please don't forget about me. I’ll never forget about you.

She slammed the car door. She put on his jacket. She had a long way to drive.

***

Sorry! I was an idiot and something happened while editing.

Heres the taglist (again): @missdowntonabbey @your-eternal-muse @qonble @bisoner @purelypanicking

masterlist here

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