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rafescurtainbangz · 4 months

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Breaking Dishes (Rafe Cameron One Shot) +18

Minor DNI

Rafe x female reader

Rafe's best friend helps him make the best of his buzz cut era and he gets whatever he'd like in exchange.

Warning: SMUT, lots of pet names, lovey Rafe, friends to lovers, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v

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"It hurts."

"Does it hurt? Or does it itch? There's a difference.

"Both, Y/N... This is fuckin' stupid."

"No. Nah. Nope... What was stupid was the fact that you, a grown-ass man, didn't know how to do his own laundry."

"That's what you're for."

You flick your eyes from his hair to the mirror, catching him with your death stare. "Keep going." He gives you a shit-eating grin, making you fight off a smile of your own.

"This has to be done." He looks at his hair in the mirror, the bleach altering his dark blonde buzz to an icy white."

"Almost," you sing, running your polished nail through the bleach, eyeing your work.

"And I get whatever I want if I do this. Yeah?"

"Anything you'd like."

Anything.

It started simply with you and Rafe. He looked like a pouty little man-child, holding his Ralph Lauren polo by the shoulders, his privilege showing as he eyed the streaked bleach stain across the front. This sort of shit had gone on for days. First, it was no detergent, then fabric softener only, followed by straight bleach on the third day. He looked pathetic, desperate to accomplish this simple task. You helped him on the fourth day, sparking a friendship in the process, making your first year at college a little easier.

There was so much stuff he just didn't know how to do... Stuff that he could fully figure out on his own, but if he did... Then, he wouldn't need you. And both of you knew that.

There was a spark. There always was. But this time, it was a loaded exchange. You do this for me, and I'll do anything you'd like, Rafey.

"Purple shampoo?" He mumbles.

"I’m being proactive. Gotta tone it. Don't question it," you giggle, emulsifying the shampoo, watching the suds and bleach swirl down the sink. "Gah... Looks so fucking good." He grunts in reply. "Stay here." You run over to the rack, grabbing a fluffy white towel. "Stop!"

"What? Why? It's my hair, Y/N. Jesus fuck."

"'Cause... It's a surprise," you practically growl out the words through your excitement, swathing the towel around his head; pawing out the water.

"What am I gonna do if this looks like shit?"

"It won't. It won't," you smile. "What are you gonna tell Topper?"

"That I lost a bet. I don't know. You're takin' advantage of me, y/n."

"You're the only person I know with a buzz cut, Cameron. It fits your aesthetic. Lean into it."

"I'm not leaning into shit."

"Stand up." You feel your cheeks redden as Rafe rises from his hunched-over position in the sink, his muscular frame bare, just a pair of gray sweats on his tight body. "You blushing, Y/N?" He asks as a cocky smile spreads on his lips. You bite yours, casting your gaze away as you try to collect yourself. "I look that good. Huh?" He taunts, hooking his finger under your chin, guiding your gaze to his. You stare into his beautiful baby blues, feeling your heart start to race.

"Yeah, Cameron."

He bites his cheek, holding back an all-too-wide smile as his cheeks redden as well. You reach up, tapping the high point of his face, silently calling him out.

"Got me," he whispers, making your heart flutter. "Alright... So, can I look?" You smile and nod. Rafe turns on his heels, eyes widening as he takes himself in. He goes through all the emotions at once, landing on a meh. His lip tugs slightly, shoulders shrugging in acceptance."It's not that bad..."

"I love it," you praise, smiling brightly back at him.

"You're way too fuckin' excited about this, Y/N."

"Nah... You wouldn't get it."

"M'Kay. What now?" He cops a slight attitude, unenthused with the rest of your request. You snatch your phone out of your pocket, flicking to your camera, turning it on record. "NO!" He rips it out of your hand, turning it off before passing it back.

"What..." You pout.

"The fuck do you have to record this for?"

"Me!"

"What are you gonna do with it, Y/N? This goes nowhere."

"It's just for me, Rafey. Jesus Christ. Calm your tits."

"Don't tell me to calm my tits," he huffs. "I'm so fuckin' serious, Y/N."

"I promise," you answer earnestly. "And, you have to say the thing."

"I forgot."

"Bullshit."

"When?" He crosses his arms before his chest; his hip popped slightly.

"After I start the song, of course," you tease. "Alexa play Breaking Dishes by Rihanna."

"This is weird," he snips, looking down at you disgustingly.

"It's alright, baby girl. You don't have to get it."

"Don't call me baby girl, Y/N," he huffs as the song starts to build.

"Fine. Alright, Rafey. Lights, Camera, Action."

"A man, a man, a ma-a-a-an..."

Rafe rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth, throwing his arms to his sides. His ab muscles flex more than before, making you squeal internally. Fuck, he looks good. Your eyes widen, threatening him with your glare to say his fucking line.

"Snow always lands on top."

"Ah! Yes, Rafey!"

You press the little red button, ending the recording, letting out a delighted squeal before jumping into his arms. His eyes fall down your body, roaming back up nice and slow. Rafe's gaze gets stuck on your lips, wetting his own; tension building between the two of you as you wait to see if he'll ask for what you both want.

"You know, Y/N... I wouldn't do this shit for anybody else," he mumbles.

"I know," you smile. "So, what do you want, Rafe?" You ask, drawing his focus back to your watch.

"Helped you set up that big mirror last week," he rasps.

"Mhmm..."

"Wanna fuck you in front of it, Y/N." You feel your stomach flip; your heart instantly picks up pace.

"Oh."

"That okay?" He asks, leaning in slightly.

"Yeah... That's okay."

"You want that?" He smiles, his lips mere centimeters from yours, breathing softly against yours.

"Yeah."

"Words, Y/N," he whispers.

"I want you to fuck me in front of the mirror, Rafe," you respond, voice hoarse and breathy as your nerves start to get the better of you. Everything fades away as Rafe's lips crash into yours, taking your breath away; claiming your mouth against his.

Heat rolls over your skin. Your body starts to tingle, hands moving from his neck, wrapping around his broad shoulders tightly, drawing him closer. His lips are sweet, just like you expected. A soft moan escapes your lips, landing in his. You feel him smile against your kiss, making you do the same.

"You sure this is okay?" He mumbles between kisses as he walks with you into your bedroom.

"Perfect." Rafe's tongue slips through your lips, greeting yours, rolling softly with your rhythm.

Fuck...

He draws back from you, looking at the two of you in the mirror. "First thing I thought about when you asked me to put this up, Y/N. Been thinkin' about it ever since."

"Yeah?" You smile as you look back into his blue jean eyes. "Why do you think I bought it?" His smile shifts to a smirk at the sound of your admittance.

Rafe sets you down, making quick work of your clothing, peeling it off between kisses. You bite your lip as your fingers dance over the indentations of his muscles, working down to his waistband, his slutty gray sweats, hiding absolutely nothing.

You work the material over his thighs and down to his ankles. He kicks them off, just a pair of white cotton Calvin's on his tight frame. You take your time, revealing his thick cock inch by inch. His dick springs free, standing straight; a bead of cum gathered on his swollen tip.

His rough fingers ghost over your soft skin. Rafe takes hold of your breasts, pressing them together. His touch lightens; feather-soft circle over your nipples.

"Rafe," you whine as you throw your head back.

His mouth quickly greets your skin, sucking harshly, skimming and flicking your hardened nipple with his tongue.

His hands roam down your body as his lips return to yours. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. It's happening. Rafe's hand disappears between your thighs, making you moan. He runs his finger along your silk. "So fucking wet for me, y/n," he hums, turning you to face the mirror.

You feel your whole body start to pulse, every nerve firing hot. Rafe's fingers meet your bud, circling softly. You'd always look at his hands, wondering what they could do. "Feels so good," you whine, causing him to chuckle sinfully. Rafe pulls another moan out of your parted lips, his dark gaze matching yours over your shoulder.

He adds a second finger, curling it inside of you, thrusting in and out. Rafe moves his thumb to your clit, adding a little more pressure. "I've always wanted you," He growls, lips grazing your ear.

"Yeah," you mewl.

"Do you think about me a lot, y/n?" He breathes.

"Yes," you press out the word through a moan.

"And you wanted to know what my hands could do. Didn't you? I've seen the way you look at me," he taunts. "Are they doin' it for you, Y/N?" He works you a little harder.

"Yes! Yes." You cry. Your thighs start to tremble. Rafe's lips lock on your neck, licking you, marking you as his own. "I'm gonna cum."

"I know, baby; I know," he whispers against your skin. "Can you be a good girl and cum when I tell you?"

"Rafe, I... S-Shit."

Your eyes flick open, resting on him as you fight back your pleasure, Rafe working against you, trying his very best to push you over the edge.

"Cum."

"Fuck!" You lose yourself, fluttering around his fingers. He continues to please you, toiling harder and quicker than before. Your lips crash into his, cries of pleasure against his mouth. The two of you are breathing heavily; Rafe sucks off your bottom lip slowly.

"I can't wait to have you, y/n," he groans huskily. "Fuck. That was beautiful." Rafe wraps his strong arms around your waist, holding you tightly. "How was that, baby?" He drawls.

"Fantastic... Holy shit."

His hands fall down your skin, landing on your hips, turning you before pulling you close. Rafe circles your ass, squeezing you, giving you a little spank. Your urges are too strong. You just can't resist.

You throw yourself in his arms, lips locking with his. He moans into your kiss, tongue rolling with yours. Your hands grasp the front of his thighs, nails sinking in slightly.

You drag your fingers down his tight body. A smile spreads on Rafe's lips as you wrap your hands around his thick dick.

"Shit, y/n," he chuckles raspily as you fall to your knees.

"Can I suck your cock, Rafey?"

"Mmm... Mhmm," he groans, a lusty chuckle leaving his lips. "Hell fucking yes, Y/N." You feel your confidence building by the moment.

You swirl your tongue on his velvety head, collecting his precum on your tongue. Rafe takes a sharp breath, followed by a loose, drawn-out moan.

"I've always wanted you in my mouth, Rafe," you pant. You trace the head of his shaft, lips close, breathing warmly against him. "Do you want my mouth?" You whisper onto his tip; his lashes flutter.

"Ugh, Shit. Yes, y/n," he groans. "I need your mouth on my cock." His voice is coarse and delicious, driving you wild. You flatten your tongue, licking him from base to tip. Rafe's fingers rake through your hair, his hands gripping the back of your head.

His hips thrust into your mouth slowly, pushing you to see how far he can go. He draws out; your tongue swirls to the tip. "Fuck me, Y/N," Rafe hums. The grip on your hair tightens.

Each thrust is deeper than the next, a soft swirl to his tip. Your eyes start to water. Rafe readjusts his stance, his eyebrows furrowing. Bringing your hands up to his balls, you play with them as well. Rafe bites his lips, grunting with each thrust as he starts to buck his hips into your mouth.

You're choking on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks. You bring your fingers down to your warmth, pleasing yourself as well.

"Y/n," Rafe grunts, taking notice; his breathing increases. "You're going to make me cum, baby," he sears. He adjusts his stance, thighs quaking. "Mmm... Y/n. I can't wait to have you. I'm going to fuckin' ruin you, Y/N," he growls, eyes pinched shut.

Hollowing your cheeks, you increase your suction, causing his lips to part. You feel his dick twitch on your tongue. Rafe thrusts into you roughly, his climax spilling deep into your throat.

He throws his head back again, holding yours against him as you scratch your nails along his ass. "Y/n, f-fuck," he pants, breathing rapidly. "Ugh... Holy shit."

You come off him slowly, eyes set on him.

"Best blowjob of my life.."

"Stop," you giggle.

"Fuck, y/n. I mean it." He helps you to your feet, quickly pulling you in tightly. He presses a kiss against your forehead, breathing rapidly, still coming down from his climax. "Can't wait to taste you, Y/N?"

"M'so wet..." You hum, fanning the flame. His eyes darken, trailing your curves before tossing you down on the bed. You feel your pussy throb, craving Rafe's lips; his fingers; his cock. He wraps his arms around your thighs, drawing you toward his face.

You throw your arms above your head, arching your back as his tongue glides through your silk. "Shit," you mewl as you feel the warmth of his mouth, and the whisper of his breath against your sex.

Rafe buries himself between your thighs, nose brushing your clit; tongue dipping into your entrance. Your heart starts to race again. You prop yourself up on your elbow, meeting his stare. Drawing your hands up your body, you take hold of your breasts. Rafe moans against your pussy, watching as you play with yourself.

He whispers your name softly against your clit; you toss your head back. Feeling the roughness of his hand against your stomach, working higher. Rafe palms your breast, rolling your nipple softly between his fingers.

You feel your pleasure building. Your body moves, grinding your hips to get a little more friction. Rafe's hand lowers; your anticipation builds. He licks a line up your slit.

His fingers toy with your entrance. "Rafe, please," you wail; your thighs widening, pressure building in between.

"Ugh... Fuck!" You cry; Rafe sinks two fingers deep, his soft lips sucking roughly. Your thighs start to quiver as he thrusts his digits in and out. "Can you cum on my fingers?" He breathes. "Can you soak my hand for me?"

"Yes... Yes."

"Mmm... My cock's gonna feel so good sliding in and out of this pretty pussy, Y/N."

"Yes!" You punch out the word, back arching off the bed.

You feel your release, just like he asked, making a mess of his hand as you grip the sheets. You can hear the sound of it. His fingers working sloppily, in and out.

"Baby..." You stutter, relaxing around his fingers, craving more.

Rafe grips your hips in his strong hands, tugging you even closer to the edge. You tilt your head up, watching as he takes a grip on his cock; hard and throbbing. Your eyes shift as he guides himself closer.

He seizes himself by the base, tapping his dick against your clit. Your thighs tremble with each touch, spurs of pleasure, your sensitivity at an all-time high.

"So fucking wet," he praises. Rafe's hands shift, taking a harsh hold on the back of your thighs, pressing them to your chest. "Mmm... Hold these f'me," he groans. You relax your head to the side as Rafe runs his tips through your silk; his eyes meet yours in the mirror, a smile spreading on his lips.

His mouth parts, mirroring yours as his cock starts to stretch you out. You let out a soft whimper; your eyebrows knit as he gives you all of him. Every inch pushes you to your limit; your eyes roll back as he draws out, quickly thrusting back in.

Your hands grab his forearms, holding on tightly, drawing him closer, pulling him deeper. "Look at me, Y/N," he moans, his eyes shifting from the mirror, driving into yours. He leans into you, folding you in half, pinning your thighs against the bed as he kisses you deeply. Your tongues intertwine; moaning and blissful cries are exchanged between your lips.

You separate slightly, breathing rapidly, lips hovering close. His skin slaps against yours, your forehead, nestled against his. "You're so fuckin' beautiful," he pants.

"God, this feels so good."

"So good, baby," he echoes. Rafe picks up speed, feeling your walls drawn in around him. His strong hands grip your hips, using them as leverage to drive deeper.

You throw your head back, eyes shut tight as you feel yourself about to fall apart. Your mouth draws open; a string of curses and praise flow freely. Rafe's lips lock onto your nipple, sucking hard.

"Rafe. Fuck!" Your pleasure releases; your body pulses around his shaft. Your hands reach for him, pulling slightly, tugging him toward your lips. Rafe picks you up swiftly, taking a seat on the bed, his cock still deep inside.

"Are you okay?" He pants with a smile.

"So good... So fucking good."

You start rolling and grinding your hips on top of him. Rafe starts to bounce on the mattress. His breathing increases; you can tell he's close. Grabbing his shoulders, you press him down on the bed.

Rafe's hands squeeze your ass tightly, guiding you, setting a rapid tempo. "Fuck... Ugh," he whimpers. "I'm gonna cum." He takes you by surprise, drawing out quickly, rolling you to your back.

He plunges back in, reaching for air as he grunts and moans incoherent words. "I'm cumming... Shit," he groans as he climaxes; Rafe continues to drive his release deeper. He presses his lips and body against yours, rocking slowly to a stop.

"Holy shit...." he pants, holding you close. Rafe nuzzles himself into your neck, breathing rapidly as he kisses you softly. You sigh blissfully, relaxing into the bed, giving him better access to your skin. His lips work over your neck, moving up to your jaw.

"So..." he whispers.

"So," you giggle, your heart racing rapidly against his.

"I like you, Y/N, if that's not clear. And that... Fuck. That was so damn good," he groans blissfully.

"I like you too," you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently.

"And, just so we're crystal clear, you pictured yourself fuckin' me and not..." He points to his hair, narrowing his eyes on yours.

"Rafe? No, President Snow. Of course, I pictured myself fucking you and not Rafe Cameron."

"Brat." He spanks your ass, making you yelp.

"Fuck, Rafe!" You whine as you look back, watching the print shift from white to red.

"Ah, shit. You don't like it rough, Y/N?" He taunts through a snickering laugh. You lower your lips to him, brushing gently.

"You owe me now, Rafey... Round two. I like it rough."

A/N Thanks for reading. Kel♡

#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey #rafe cameron one shot

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happyhauntt · 8 days

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bury these bones — spencer reid.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: spencer's day isn't anything more than average, but a surprise phone call and impromptu hospital visit have him rethinking his expectations.

─── pairing: spencer reid x autistic!medical examiner!reader.

─── warnings: fluff, a little angst, reader is autistic & a mom, no use of y/n. swearing. mild description of injuries (not serious), references to the 'lauren' arc of season 6, hospitals, this is mostly just flirting with a bit of background angst. i did do some research but honestly all facts & figures in this are probably Not Accurate and should absolutely never be repeated.

─── word count: 1.9k.

IT ISN’T OFTEN THAT SPENCER is the first one into the office. More often than not, Hotch is already at his desk by the time dawn breaks, and Morgan can usually be found finishing up in the gym. Nobody ever expects Rossi to arrive on time — he usually strolls in a little after 9:30 with his blazer slung over his arm and a half-finished espresso in his hand — and Emily maintains some semblance of a work-life balance by appearing no sooner than work is supposed to start, if she can help it.

The point, Spencer supposes, is that his routine usually falls comfortably in the middle and yet, today, as he emerges from the elevator and heads towards his desk, the bullpen is almost eerily quiet.

Bizarre, he thinks, setting his bag down by his chair. The BAU is so often abuzz with activity, the low hum of worker bees all in a hive slipping into background noise, that to see it so empty is… jarring, to say the least.

Spencer heads for the kitchen after a moment, ears ringing in the silence, and makes a pot of coffee before meandering back to his desk. A glance at the clock tells him that it’s still early, and as a mouthful of too-sweet coffee sits on his tongue, he reaches into his bag and draws out today’s paper, flipping through to the crossword.

Silence is golden, after all. If he’s lucky, he’ll beat his personal best.

He’s halfway through, about to move on to 6, down, when the phone rings. The shrill sound of it pierces the air, and Spencer can’t help flinching a little as it startles him. Eyes dart all over the bullpen, trying to locate the source of the noise, before they land on Emily's desk. The offending phone trills on and on. One of the lights blinks red. External call.

He discards the newspaper on his desk, tucking a spare pen inside so the page isn’t lost, and strides across the office to Emily’s desk to answer the phone. It won’t be the first time he’s taken a message for one of his coworkers, and he suspects Emily would rather this than letting the call ring out.

“Agent Prentiss’ phone.” His voice feels too loud in the sudden silence of the office, now that the ringing has ceased. “Dr. Reid speaking. Can I help you?”

“Dr. Reid?” The voice crackling down the line lilts with confusion, and his chest floods with warmth at the familiarity of it.

He can almost picture you, in his mind’s eye. The exact expression on your face as you hear him speak instead of Emily, the little scrunch of your nose, your head tilting to the side. It’s the same look you have when you find something strange inside a cadaver.

The same bewildered wrinkle appears between your brows when you’re on the plane after a case and Spencer’s trying to teach you how to play chess, and you start to laugh and tell him you’re hopeless, but his persistence is endearing, so you let him explain the rules all over again.

(You’ve only been part of the team for a few months, only accompanied them on cases a handful of times, but the sound of your voice is as familiar to him as the moon on a winter’s night. He can’t quite put his finger on when or how he became so attuned to you, drawn in the same way the moon pulls the tide, but he’s certainly not complaining.)

“I keep telling you to call me Spencer.” An amused smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

You scoff. “That’s not professional.”

“Our technical analyst tucks fluffy pens into her hair, and on our last case together I walked in on you dancing to Abba in the middle of an autopsy. I think professionalism is a thing of the past.”

“Bite me, Dr. Reid,” you say, but your words are flooded with affection. “Where’s Prentiss? Why are you answering her phone?”

Spencer shrugs. “She’s not in yet. Anything I can help with?”

Silence. If not for the sound of your breathing, Spencer might think the call dropped.

Another moment passes before you swallow thickly, a quiet gulp that sends an odd zing skittering through Spencer’s nervous system.

“I need a favour and I don’t want to worry Jackie.”

From what he’s heard about your sister-in-law, Spencer thinks that’s fair. “Sure, what is it?”

“Can you pick me up from the hospital?”

Recent surveys conducted by NORC at the University of Chicago suggest that almost half of the American population dislike hospitals, so Spencer knows he’s not alone in his discomfort, but none of his facts and figures are helpful the moment he steps into the Emergency Room at St. Sebastian’s.

The clinical scent of disinfectant sends a thousand tiny spiders crawling up his spine. He tries not to gag but he swears he can taste it at the back of his throat. Spencer forces himself to pause near the door and shuts his eyes, just for a moment, to focus on the solid ground beneath his feet rather than the lurching of his stomach.

In his line of work, he’s no stranger to hospitals. To meandering through long, dim corridors in search of something to occupy his thoughts, of all the beige and stark white walls so bright it hurts his eyes, of lumpy hospital beds and IVs itching beneath his skin and that smell.

He was here, not that long ago. He’d wept when they told him Emily had died in surgery, and she’s fine now, but he can still taste iron on his tongue and sometimes it’s still hard to believe she’s alive until she walks through the door unharmed.

When he opens his eyes again, the ER is still the same, but the unpleasant churning in his stomach has started to subside. At the desk, he reels off your name, stuttering as he goes, before the nurse directs him over to Bay 3.

I was in a car accident. That’s what you’d said on the phone, and his whole body had gone suddenly cold even though you’d seemed oddly cheery, and he’d had to remind himself to breathe. You were calling, not a nurse or a doctor, so it surely couldn’t be that bad.

But he doesn’t believe it, not really. Not until he sets eyes on you himself. Not until he can see the truth right in front of him.

You’re sitting cross-legged on one of the narrow ER beds. The curtain is pushed out of the way, and he can see your shoes have been tucked neatly beside the bed and your socks have little mushrooms on them. You’re not in a hospital gown but jeans, and a laugh bubbles up in his throat because your shirt says ‘meaner than I look’, which is patently untrue in his experience — but he also files this away in the rolodex of reasons you should call him Spencer, because you were going to show up to work dressed like this, and he never wants to hear the word professional out of your mouth again.

He also wants to take a picture, kind of, because there’s something so endearing about the image. He’s often grateful to have an eidetic memory, but never more than in this moment. He wants to remember this forever.

Spencer clears his throat as he approaches. The smile you send him as you look up and notice him is bright and wide and it makes him feel all warm and happy, like a cat curled up in a patch of sunlight.

“What happened?” His gaze is wary as it trails over you from head to toe, quickly cataloguing all your injuries. You hadn’t explained much over the phone, and he hadn’t thought to ask in his haste to reach the hospital, but now his eyes snag on the bruise blossoming over your cheek and it’s all he can think about.

You don’t look too bad, all things considered.

The bruise looks worse than it feels. The collar of your shirt is speckled with blood, but the cut above your temple is shallow and sealed with two steri-strips.

All-in-all, it could’ve been worse.

“My tire blew while I was driving into work this morning,” you tell him as you tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “The car spun out. All of this—” You gesture vaguely at your face, “was caused by the airbag. But I’m fine.”

It’s not that Spencer thinks you’re lying. It’s not.

But you can’t quite look him in the eye, and you’re wearing the same guilty expression you have when you pilfer the last of the coffee, so he’s not about to take your word for it.

A quick glance at your chart offers all the answers.

“You have a concussion!”

“A mild concussion! Mild! I don’t even have a headache!”

It’s a good thing you called him— or, well, Emily, rather than your sister-in-law. According to you, Jackie has been known to freak out over a paper cut. This might have given her a coronary.

Spencer frowns. “You needed a CT scan.”

“Precautionary measure.” A nonchalant wave of your hand follows your words. “I’m a doctor too, remember? I’m fine. Really.”

“They say doctors make the worst patients.”

You grin at him. “I already had a meltdown in the bathroom earlier. Scared a nurse. I think he wanted to sedate me but then he saw my lanyard and he took me to a quiet room to decompress. I’m good, I promise.”

The lanyard in question is covered in little sunflowers and tucked inside one of your shoes for safekeeping. Displayed on one side of the little plastic window is your Quantico identification; on the other, a little slip of paper Spencer suspects you made yourself, judging by the pink floral background and slanting script that I’m autistic and trying my fucking best.

The sight of it is familiar to him now, the same way your smile is seared onto his brain for eternity, but he recalls seeing it for the first time and chuckling. You’d offered to get one for him, too, gleefully declaring that you’re just like a sunflower, Dr. Reid, and there’d been so many butterflies in his stomach that he could have taken flight, then and there.

Now he merely hums, and shoves his hands deep into his pockets. Stepping back, he watches as you slip your shoes back on and shoulder your bag, having signed a release form not long before he arrived.

“Hey, Spencer?” Your voice is small, and the way you’re looking at him, all wide-eyed and wonderful, brings those butterflies back tenfold. He hopes the flush of his cheeks isn’t too obvious.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming to get me. I’m really okay, I promise. I’ve had worse.”

His heart pinches.

He doesn’t like that you’ve had worse.

“Well,” he says, after a moment too long of staring at you, “mild or not, I’m not leaving you alone for the rest of the day. We’re going to follow the concussion protocol. 65% of people reported developing hearing and memory problems as a result of missed symptoms of head-related trauma last year.”

You’re watching him. The corner of your eyes are a little wrinkled. A fond smile toys on your lips. “I expected nothing less, Dr. Reid.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #* chapter update.

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the-boy-meets-evil · 9 months

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some habits are hard to break | feat. jungkook

(where you know that jungkook is the last person you should keep running back to, but neither of you can seem to let the other go.)

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader genre: angst, smut, est. relationship rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~12.5k warnings: the relationship isn't healthy (but they're very human), miscommunications, misplaced hope, bad habits, unhealthy coping mechanisms, cheating (reader on unnamed boyfriend), mentions of past trauma (reader), mentions of therapy, mentions of mental health struggles (reader), explicit smut: unprotected sex (don't do this), fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving), handjob, semi public sex (behind a closed door at a club), teasing, hair pulling, light choking, i think that's it but let me know if i missed anything

a/n: she is finally here! i did not expect this fic to take me this long, but here we are. thank you to one of my favorite humans @ugh-yoongi for reading this over and assuring me they weren't terrible, just human. this story feels personal to me so that was reassuring.

a/n 2: lauren has asked for a pt 2, so i’ll be writing that after i get through both my collabs due in august 💕 banner/divider credit: my bby @classicscreations who always comes through tagging: @pjmparadise @axialitae

Every single thought is the same. You know better than to send the text sitting on your phone. You know precisely why it’s wrong. You know that nothing is ever going to change.

Here’s the thing. You’re in a healthy, stable relationship with someone who’s good to you and for you. He’s honest and caring, funny and sweet. Despite all of your baggage, he never makes you feel less than, never makes you feel broken. This is the first time in your life that you’ve been able to lay all your shit on the table and have someone accept it unconditionally. And he always does what he says he’s going to. You’re never up waiting at 2 in the morning, wondering where he is because he hasn’t called or texted.

So, yeah, things with him are good, great even.

But…

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? As soon as there’s a but, it’s like you can’t see all of the good. It’s all just a placeholder before what may be the worst three-letter word in the English language. You wonder if it means there’s just something fundamentally wrong with you. Who looks for the “buts” of every situation? Why can’t you just appreciate all the truly wonderful things in your relationship?

Because you’ve had the one thing you’re missing. You know it exists and it’s hard to forget.

Your boyfriend is great, perfect, even, in almost every way that matters. It’s just, you’re not exactly…satisfied. And you know that you could guide him to be better for you in that way. He just seems a bit sensitive about it at times and you don’t want to make him feel less than since he never does that to you.

This is exactly why you’re staring at your phone. Paralyzed because you both want to send the text and know you really can’t. Your body remembers his, remembers the way the slightest touch sent your heart racing. You try to also remember every word he’s ever uttered to you, too, because he’s always been very clear about who he is.

It’s fucked up that you’re even considering it, beyond wrong that you typed those 5 words out in an empty conversation thread. (Even though you usually keep every conversation, you deleted this one after you got serious about your boyfriend. You say it’s to keep the temptation away, but really, how well is that working now?)

You: what are you up to?

Just like that, your need to fill your desires wins out against every other rational thought you have. Part of you hopes that he doesn’t respond. It’s been months since you last spoke and you know he’s got a short attention span. Maybe he’ll spare you having to make a final decision.

Jungkook: out getting some drinks with friends

He doesn’t. His answer comes in far quicker than you expect it to and you get that same feeling in your stomach. Like anticipation mixed with desire. You’re so fucked.

Jungkook: what are you up to?

Tomorrow you’ll look back and realize this is a chance to bow out, to realize that this is a mistake. That you hadn’t sealed your fate when you sent the first message. You could still just bow out and walk away, leave the message unanswered.

You don’t.

You: nothing, just at home alone Jungkook: what about the boyfriend? You: away for work

You know that you should feel bad now. A normal person might realize that this was destructive behavior, that you’re purposely sabotaging your own long-term happiness for instant gratification. At least, that’s what your therapist tells you.

Jungkook: I can be home in 15 minutes, I’m just around the corner

The message is really your last chance, whether you consciously think about it or not. There was no preamble with Jungkook. He assumes you’re texting him so you can come over. And he’s right, isn’t he? You weren’t exactly texting to catch up with someone you weren’t ever friends with anyway. No, you’re both adults and you know what this is. Just like you’ve always known.

You: give me 30 and I’ll be over

Was there really any other outcome? From the moment you opened Jungkook’s contact to start a text, this was the inevitable end. You can pretend that you have control and you were on the fence. But, you know the truth, and so does Jungkook. He knows it from the moment your name appears on his lock screen. This only ends one way, the same way it’s ended countless times before.

Thirty minutes later, after cleaning up and getting dressed, you stand on Jungkook’s doorstep. There’s a moment where you genuinely question if this is smart. Smart is the wrong word, you think. Of course, this is fucking stupid. You could ask 100 people and every single one of them would probably tell you to turn around. So no, this isn’t smart. The real question is if you’re going to do it anyway.

Jungkook opens the door before you even knock and the question dies. There he is, in baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt, like the true fuckboy you know he is, and your body remembers. It remembers every kiss, every touch, every tremble. It starts to react without your permission. By the smirk he’s wearing, you can tell Jungkook remembers too.

“Right on time,” he says, leaning against the door frame like he needs the support.

“Are we gonna have a whole conversation out here?” It’s a challenge and a mistake all rolled into one.

He doesn’t answer, just moves aside so that you can step past him. There’s a moment, as you’re stepping past him and glancing around his apartment, of nerves. Of wondering what the fuck is going on. But his apartment hasn’t changed, not that you expected it to, and neither has he.

“Want anything to drink?” he asks, moving around you to the kitchen. He looks back over his shoulder at you, a confident smirk on his lips. “We could do a couple shots.”

“Trying to get me drunk?” you wonder. Still, you follow him into the kitchen.

“No, definitely not.” His answer is swift and his eyes roam over you, appraising. “You just seem a little on edge.”

“Wonder why that is,” you huff out.

Jungkook leans back against the counter, eyes still trained on you. “If you don’t want to be here…”

“I didn’t say that either,” you respond.

There’s this weird tension settling between the two of you and you’re not really sure what to do about it. Not really sure how to get out of your head for even a second. That’s when you feel Jungkook’s hands on your hips, pulling you back against his body where he still leans against the counter.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured,” he says and dips his head to kiss along your jawline.

“I don’t,” you respond.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers against your skin as he continues to kiss down your neck.

The only thing that comes out for a second is a hum when Jungkook lightly sucks at the base of your neck where it meets your collarbone. “No.”

“Are you sure?” He’s pulled back now and looking you directly in the eye.

You take a breath and then another when your heart starts to speed up. The only thoughts are of his lips on yours, his fingers grazing along your body. Slowly your fingers trail up his arms and he doesn’t move at all. Just watches you and waits for you to make your decision. Leaves it all up to you.

So you do the only thing you can, the only thing you were going to do once you sent that text. You let your fingers find purchase in his hair and you press your lips hard against his. He’s turning the two of you around in an instant so it’s you pressed into the counter. The kiss is hard and desperate, like you’ve both been starved and this is the only way to solve that. His hands feel like they’re everywhere and it’s still not enough, not completely what you need. Nobody has ever set your body on fire just from kissing the way Jungkook does. It’s bliss the way your brain goes almost silent except for thoughts of him. And you know he’s just as turned on, can feel it in the way he’s pressing against you.

Jungkook kisses down your neck again and you don’t even bother to hold back the moan. When you feel him lightly sucking into your skin before pulling away, part of you wishes he’d do it harder. Wishes he’d leave a mark. Wishes for something to show what you’re doing here tonight without you having to say it. He doesn’t, though, and you know he wouldn’t even if you asked.

Instead he pulls away, smirks at your whimper from the lack of contact, and reaches for the hem of your shirt. He’s still asking permission, so you give it. Your shirt and bra disappear in record time and his mouth is back on. Softly kissing down the space between your breasts and across the underside of one. It’s too much, the way he knows exactly what you need, the way his lip ring teases you as he moves across your skin, the way he stops to just look at you when he knows he’s driving you crazy.

Well, you think, two can play at that game. Before he even realizes what you’re doing, you’re spitting into your hand and reaching inside his sweats and boxers (since he’s annoyingly still clothed). You’re slowly dragging your hand along his length, moving painfully slowly. He groans when you slide your thumb over his tip and pulls back.

“Fuck,” he says and slowly pulls your hand out.

“What?” you ask, actually confused.

“Come on, I can’t fuck you against this counter but if we don’t get out of here, I’m gonna try,” he says and pulls you along into the bedroom.

Jungkook kisses you hard and lightly pushes you back onto the bed. You prop yourself up to watch him quickly undress. You love watching the way his muscles contract with each movement, love the lean lines of his body, absolutely love everything about him. If he sees you watching him, which you’re sure he does, he doesn’t say anything. Instead he leans over you, kisses you hard again as he pulls your pants and underwear off nearly in one motion.

“Eager,” you taunt.

“You won’t be saying that when you can’t walk tomorrow,” he says.

Before you can answer, Jungkook is flipping you over so that you’re on your hands and knees, pressing down on your back so your ass is in the air. You’re a little surprised, because usually he takes his time with you. Not that you’re complaining. He moves on the bed and then you hear a bottle opening seconds before you feel the cold liquid at your entrance. He may be a lot of things, but he always makes sure you’re taken care of.

Despite his words, he still slides into you slowly and lets you adjust to him. His hands grip your hips tightly as he rolls his hips into you almost carefully, like he’s not sure if you’re adjusted. It’s bordering on painful that he’s so still.

“Fuck Jungkook, move,” you whine.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“Just fuck me, please fuck me,” you beg and you hear the low chuckle.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he says and snaps into you hard.

“Fuckkkkkk,” you draw out.

Removing one hand from your hip, he presses you back down into the mattress. You arch your back further so he has a better angle and let the pillow muffle your moans. It mixes with his own groans and the slap of his skin against yours every time he buries himself fully inside you. There’s something frantic about it and you’re sure this is what you’ve been missing. Sure this is what you need. He removes his hand from your hip again and roughly slaps your ass.

“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you yell.

He slaps your other ass cheek and it makes you scream out again. Yes, this is what you need. Someone to be a little rougher with you. Someone who doesn’t treat you like you’re going to break or worry if you can take it because he knows. He knows exactly what you can take and exactly what you like. Him pulling on your hair is only further proof of that.

And then he’s pulling you to him, so that your back is against his chest. The new angle has him hitting deeper inside you, reaching that spot that nearly has you seeing stars. Jungkook moves his hand out of your hair around your neck, gripping lightly.

“Do you like that, baby?” he whispers roughly in your ear.

“Yes,” you moan out.

“Because I fuck you the best,” he continues.

“Jungkook, fuck, just fucking choke me, please,” you beg, unbothered by how much you’re begging him.

That doesn’t need any answer from him beyond his fingers tightening around your throat. It’s the perfect pressure too, just like every other time he’s choked you while fucking. It makes you feel a little lightheaded but also like everything feels that much more amplified. Every hard thrust into your cunt pushes you closer to the edge. Every breath sounds louder. Everything is just more.

He also knows your body to know when you’re close. You almost whine when he removes his hand from your throat because you felt like you were about to come. And then he rubs a thumb over your clit, continues to make sure you come first, like always.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you shout.

“Come on baby, I wanna feel you come,” he says into your ear.

It’s the only permission you need as you let go. Somewhere, in the haze of your high, you can tell that he’s coming too, that his release comes just after yours. It’s all you can do not to slump against his body, though. His arms are strong around you as he pulls out so that both of you can lay down on the bed.

A few minutes later, after he’s cleaned you both off and you’re lying together in bed, you wonder how you’re going to extract yourself. You’ve never really felt awkward around him, so you’re not really sure why you do now.

“I should be going,” you say and start to sit up.

Jungkook is quick to pull you back down. He meets your look of confusion with nothing but desire. You think, not for the first time, it’s the kind of look that you drown in. The kind of look that ruins you.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” he asks.

“Home?” you offer.

“Why?” he fires back.

“I don’t know, Jungkook, we already fucked,” you say. Part of you is a little exasperated at having to spell it out.

“Do you really think I’m going to let you leave here when I haven’t even tasted you?” he asks.

Fuck.

(He follows through with exactly what he says. It’s slow and measured, like he wants to pull apart every thread you have one by one. Like he wants to ruin you for anyone that isn’t him. Like he doesn’t know he already has.

The lip ring is new since the last time you fucked him and you’re not sure if you’ll even be able to tell when he’s between your legs. Until you’re praising him so loudly you’re sure his neighbors must hear. Or maybe it’s just because he’s so good at getting you off. Even if tonight, he takes his time, brings you to the edge over and over before finally letting you slip over.

It’s the early hours of the morning by the time you’re both worn out. You offer to call a ride, only to have him insist you stay. It’s much too late to be going anywhere when he’d be worried if you were safe or not. So you stay and it’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in awhile.)

The wait is excruciating. Your boyfriend comes home tonight and it’s terrible timing, you know, but you also know that you have to tell him what happened. It isn’t fair to him to just go on without knowing. He’s one of the kindest people in the world, doesn’t deserve this. He’s not broken like you, something you’ve pointed out since the beginning. Maybe those intrusive thoughts were right and you just aren’t built for healthy relationships.

Although you haven’t told many of your friends what happened, you had to confide in a few. Each of them tells you that you shouldn’t tell him what happened. They say that it’s just one of those things where confessing might make you feel better, but it’ll only make him feel shitty. It’s hard to know how he’ll feel. Shitty is probably fair. But, you think they’re wrong about how you’ll feel. Getting this off your chest will just replace one weight with another. Wanting to come clean isn’t about clearing your own conscience. It’s about honesty and him having the ability to make an informed decision.

It actually goes far better than you thought, somehow. He’s hurt, how could he not be? Despite that, he’s calm in the conversation. Instead of breaking it off there and then, which is what you expect, he suggests taking a step back. It’ll allow the relationship to be less defined and maybe less serious. You can’t really believe it when he says that he’s there to work things out with you and give you the space to figure out what you need. It breaks your heart a little bit more, somehow, to see him so patient with you. You don’t deserve it.

Instead of seeing this as a failure, he wants you to see it for what he sees it as. This is just a slip, a step back. There’s been so much trauma in your life that it’s natural for you to have moments where you slip. He’s hurt, yes, he’ll admit that, but he’s not angry with you. At the end of the day, he genuinely cares for you and he’s willing to do whatever it is the both of you need in order to move forward. You both agree that therapy as a couple might be important. However, he insists that it can wait while you sort through how you’re feeling.

Overall, you think you feel okay about it. Things will look different with him for the time being, but you can actually see past this moment in time. That’s new for you. You’re feeling hopeful for the future and you even let yourself imagine a future with him in it. Maybe this isn’t the end of the world after all. Maybe this is just something you actually needed to close a chapter.

Weeks go by. Therapy is back to being once a week, sometimes twice when the sessions fit into your work schedule, and you do trust this therapist. Really, you do. She listens to everything you say and interjects in meaningful ways. It’s clear that she’s actually listening to you and giving you genuine feedback, rather than some previous therapists that only asked how something made you feel. Sitting in that office has forced you to face a lot of deep-seated issues, everything from your childhood to past relationships to the deepest recesses of your mind. Sometimes you don’t really want to relive those moments, but she’s always done a good job of explaining why you need to do the work.

But…

And there it is, again, that stupid three-letter word that brings everything to a screeching halt.

Despite all your therapist’s work, there’s a part of you that doesn’t see the future anymore. Therapy is wonderful and you’re actually really thankful you found this therapist. You’re sleeping better, you feel lighter, and the world doesn’t feel like it’s going to crush you every day. Maybe she’s a little too good at her job, though, because you’re wondering how to move forward. Your boyfriend is perfect…for someone. And you’re not sure anymore if that someone is you.

It’s been weeks and he’s still just content to take the backseat while you do whatever work you need to do. It’s stupid, you know it’s stupid, but you want him to fight for you. You want to see that he is actually upset over what happened with Jungkook. It’s not healthy, you know that and your therapist reminds you it’s not healthy. You’re doing everything you can to make your brain catch up that it’s not healthy. You can’t shake it, though. All the doubts and insecurities creep back in when he still doesn’t seem bothered.

So you do the only thing you can think of, the thing your therapist disagrees with. Well, disagrees with the reasoning, not with the idea itself. You break off the relationship. He tries to approach it in such a way that leaves the door open for you both to come back to it down the road. You don’t want loose ends, so you lie. It hurts to see his face crumble when you say you just don’t love him and he should find someone that does. It’s cruel. You hate yourself for doing it. But you think it’s easier this way. This is too comfortable and you don’t want to string him along.

Then, you make the second decision your therapist disagrees with and text Jungkook. After seeing she can’t make you see her perspective on the break-up, she suggests spending some time alone to learn more about yourself. That’s terrifying. If she could hear your thoughts, surely she would not suggest leaving you alone with them. They’re intrusive and self-sabotaging and just loud, so loud.

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook is happy to hear from you, happier still to know that you’re unattached again. Not that he minds being discreet, he’s happy to confine things to the four walls of his apartment. It’s just that he also likes to get you dressed up and go out. He’s always liked having someone pretty on his arm, even if he’s just at some local sports bar.

That’s not where you end up tonight, though. Your head is especially loud and you want some quiet. Need to get lost in something other than the potential mess you’re making of your life. When Jungkook suggests a club a friend of his owns, you say yes before he even finishes asking. The place is familiar to you and it’s perfect, in all its noise, low lighting, and crowded spaces. There’s no better way (at least as far as you know) of quieting your brain than going somewhere even louder.

It’s easy to get lost, several drinks in, as you press your back into Jungkook on the dance floor. The tight dress that seemed like such a good idea rides up your thighs now, with a little help from the light sheen of sweat covering your body and a little more help from Jungkook’s hands that grip you tightly.

Everything is familiar. You’ve been here before, to this exact club with Jungkook, more than once. And it’s the kind of easy you’re looking for now. As his hand inches further up your thigh, you press further back into him, looking to erase any space between the two of you. Tonight is just to forget and Jungkook is excellent at that.

Maybe if you were a little less drunk, you would stop his hand. You are in public, after all. As it is, you really don’t care. He likes to tease, gets off knowing someone may see, and you’re not in the mood to put a stop to it. Tonight, he seems even more daring than usual. He lets his thumb graze the thin layer of fabric at your core, likely feeling how much you want him. You shudder as his warm breath tickles your ear.

“There’s a storage closet in the back that might be unlocked,” he says, voice low with desire.

And that’s new because you’re certain that of all the times you’ve fucked Jungkook, none of them have been at the club. It’s been close, getting a little carried away under the table in one of the VIP booths, running his hand up your shirt on the dance floor, but you’ve never fucked him here. You’re also a little too tipsy to register that at the moment when all you want is him.

It’s too loud for you to answer him so you just squeeze his hand and nod. That’s all the permission he needs, anyway. Before you can give it a second thought, he’s pulling you off the dance floor and down a hallway. He looks around like he’s not completely sure where he’s going and then sees a door.

The door opens and you’re both in without another thought. Jungkook crowds your space, pressing you against the closed door and stealing your gasp with his lips on yours. Your hands find purchase in his slightly shaggy hair and one of his hands digs into your hip, holding you firmly in place. Like there’s anywhere else you would rather be in that moment.

From the moment his lips make contact with yours, you remember why you ignored your therapist and walked away from your relationship. It’s just a kiss, granted a pretty heated one, but still. It’s just a kiss and your whole body is alive in a way it hasn’t been since the last time you were with him. As he trails kisses across your jaw and down your neck, you can feel the heat he leaves behind with each touch.

Jungkook also never makes you feel self-conscious about the way your body responds to him. Not that your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend now, ever said anything about your moans, but he was also really quiet in bed. And you stopped reacting as much, because it wasn’t the best part of your relationship. Not that you want to be dwelling on that now. Not as Jungkook is working his way down your body, clearly just as turned on as you, eliciting soft moans as he goes.

When he drops to his knees in front of you, you think you may really be done for. He lifts one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder, your dress hiking up around your hips in the process. You lean back against the door for support as his tongue makes contact through the thin fabric. It’s another tease, a Jungkook specialty, and you find you don’t much care. Thankfully, he quickly moves the fabric to the side. The movements of his tongue, fast and slow and fast again, are perfect. Your brain goes blank, just the kind of blank you need. No thoughts except for his tongue on you and the bliss of it. Even the thud of the bass out in the club dulls to background noise. Every one of your senses is present in this moment in a way you haven’t been lately.

His movements quicken and you knot your hands in his hair both to find purchase and to let him know that you’re close. Not that it’s hard to tell by the increase in your moans. He knows what he’s doing and he knows that he’s got you on the edge. You want to tell him that you want to feel him inside you and can’t make yourself speak the words. A second later it doesn’t matter. He slides one finger in, then quickly adds another and your brain goes fuzzy.

He pushes you over the edge too fast, you want to savor more of this moment, more of him. You register that somewhere in your bliss coming down from the orgasm. You need more of him, more contact, more of whatever it is that makes your brain go quiet. You’re catching your breath and refocusing when you notice his pants down around his ankles. Did he get that hard just from getting you off? He’s already pulling a condom on and you’re almost relieved.

“You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” His confidence drips off of him when he’s like this and you wish you were the kind of girl who had something witty to say back. You wish, at least now, that he didn’t affect you like this.

Instead, all you do is shake your head at him. You don’t trust yourself to speak and he doesn’t seem to mind. In one movement, he puts his hands on the back of your thighs and picks you up, still keeping you pressed against the door. The next second, he’s slowly sliding into you, letting you adjust. It’s the only break he gives you before setting a fast pace. Your legs tighten around him and your nails dig into his back. You’re sure they would leave a mark if he didn’t have a shirt on. Part of you hopes maybe they still will.

One of the best parts about Jungkook is that he doesn’t ever need to ask what you want, he just seems to know. He knows what you like and when you want something faster like this or when to take his time. It’s like he’s mapped your body with the way he’s able to hit just the right spots in just the right way.

Your head rolls back against the door, eyes closed and brain numb. Even then, he manages to bring you back to him, kissing up your neck until you meet his lips. The kiss is messy, capturing each of your moans as they escape. Jungkook’s grip on your thighs is as strong as the pace he’s setting and it isn’t long before you’re falling over the edge again.

A pleasant daze settles over you as you do your best to look presentable so that you can leave the club. (You don’t succeed and you definitely look just fucked, but the club is in full swing and the only people who might be able to tell are the poor workers that have to stay sober).

“Do you want to come back to my apartment?” Jungkook asks the question, one hand gripping yours while the other pulls up Uber on his phone to order a ride home.

And it’s kind of funny, how he asks like he doesn’t know the answer. In the time you’ve known him, Jungkook has been a lot of things, but he’s always been confident above all else. So it catches you off guard that he asks.

“As long as it’s okay with you,” you say and he smiles that easy smile.

“Of course,” he says.

You can’t really place the feeling that settles over you at such a small exchange, everything is crowded with the lingering effects of alcohol and sex. But something feels different and you think you like it. Almost like a part of you is waking up.

The next few weeks pass in somewhat of a blur. You’re happier than you can remember feeling in a while, much more fulfilled in all aspects of your life. Despite some reservations that your therapist has, you agree to start seeing her every other week unless something changes. You’re hoping to drop it back down to once a month but understand her hesitance to make such a big change so quickly. It would be a shame to ruin all that forward progress, after all.

Most of your free time is spent with Jungkook, a fact that your best friends are quick to point out with some version of the same cautionary advice. They want you to be careful, want you to remember your history with him, don’t want you to get ahead of yourself. It seems like they just don’t understand. Yeah, you and Jungkook have been here before, multiple times, but this is different and they just haven’t seen that.

Every other time led up to this. It took a relationship falling apart for you to realize that none of the other times with Jungkook were failures, they were just your “right person, wrong time” moments. Now the timing is right for both of you.

You knock on the door to his apartment, surprise take out in one hand, realizing belatedly that maybe you should have given him a warning of some sort. What if he was busy or had already eaten?

“Oh hey, what a nice surprise,” Jungkook answers with a smile as he steps aside to let you in.

Suddenly, you feel kind of silly for the momentary worry that showing up like this would be too much. Jungkook seems like he meets you at each point, so this shouldn’t be any different. It also helps that you’ve known each other for years and you know the way to his heart (through his stomach with only his favorite foods).

The whole thing feels surprisingly normal in a way you weren’t expecting. Jungkook makes small talk as he gets plates from the kitchen and sets them down for you to eat. He offers you a drink from the fridge, gets one for himself, and it’s just…easy. The whole thing with him is easy and you’re so thankful that you took this chance. As it turns out, he’s exactly what you need. Maybe he’s even the reason your last relationship ended the way it did. Not that you would ever say that. For all his outward strength and his image, Jungkook can be surprisingly sensitive. The last thing you’d want would be him feeling responsible for causing other people pain.

You’re not really sure why you do it, but you mention that your friends have a lot of warnings about the relationship. In what should be typical Jungkook fashion, he brushes it, reassures you that you know what’s happening and that’s all that matters. It doesn’t matter what your friends think because you’re both happy and living in the moment. You smile at that. This is definitely the best kind of happy.

Once you’ve gotten plates of food, you settle down together and Jungkook pulls up Netflix. He’s got a whole list of movies and shows that you can pick from, all things he wants to see or thinks you’d like, he tells you. And that’s sweet, isn’t it? That he sees something on Netflix and saves it in case you want to watch it together. It makes your heart constrict a little bit. It doesn’t feel like something you do with someone who’s only casual. Surely his thinking about you, when you aren’t around, is a positive sign.

You sigh happily and let him decide what it is he wants to watch. Not that the two of you ever really finish anything. It’s the thought that counts though. And Jungkook seems to be thinking of you. For a second you wonder if this is just the list he’s created for anyone he has over, you haven’t talked about seeing other people. Until you realize that most of them are thrillers. It’s your favorite genre but probably not good for generally inviting girls over. You really need to stop second-guessing everything with him.

Another few weeks go by as easily as breathing and that small part of you that’s waiting for the other shoe to drop gets even quieter. You’re not even thinking that this feels different anymore because it is different. Instead of late-night (or really any odd hour of the day) texts, you’re making actual plans on when you’re going to see each other. It doesn’t feel like a fuck buddy, it feels like someone you’re moving along with in a different way. There’s a lightness to every space of your life now, a lightness that looks a lot like Jungkook.

Of all the things Jungkook is good at, and there’s a lot, because he’s hyper-competitive and doesn’t like losing, cooking is decidedly not one. That suits you just fine, though. Cooking is an absolute favorite of yours and cooking for someone you care about makes it all that much better. It had taken a little more convincing for Jungkook agree to you coming over and cook for him, he didn’t want to be a bother, but you were glad to be here now.

“I know this isn’t really what we do, but I have a family wedding to go to, for my cousin, and I was wondering if you’d come with me? It’s kind of last minute, I know. I just wasn’t expecting to have to go alone,” you say and Jungkook puts down his fork. You’re nervous again and you’re not quite sure why.

“Sure, why not?” Jungkook says easily.

“Really?” The question is out before you can stop it.

“I like spending time with you,” Jungkook says, “we have fun.”

“We do, yeah,” you agree. “It’s just…it’s like 2 hours away, so I got a room. And you’d obviously need a suit.”

“This may come as a surprise, but I have been to a wedding or two before, so I have plenty of suits. And what kind of idiot would I be to turn down an overnight date with you?” Jungkook is smiling as he says this and it puts you at ease.

“It’s in 2 weeks, which is really soon,” you say. Jungkook pulls out his phone.

“Friday or Saturday wedding?” He’s looking through his calendar to see what he’s got going on.

“Saturday,” you say and he puts his phone down.

“That’s fine, I’ve got something going on Friday, but Saturday and Sunday are all yours,” Jungkook says.

Easy. Everything is just easy. You weren’t even really thinking of asking him to come to the wedding when you decided to cook for him. It just seemed like the right timing to ask and your cousin had just texted you that afternoon asking if she should change the seating chart. Although she said it wasn’t a big deal, you know she’s secretly going to be relieved to not change anything.

Not planning things also really is your motto these days. You weren’t planning to stay over at Jungkook’s when you offered to cook. Yet you wake up in his bed the next morning all the same, like it was a foregone conclusion the second you stepped over the threshold.

You figure now that Jungkook is coming with you to a family wedding as your date, that your friends will get off of your back about him. And most of them do. It’s been over two months of seeing him, which makes it feel more stable. Mostly, they’re happy if you’re happy and know you’re enough of an adult to handle your own life. Most days, at least. It’s just one of your closest friends that’s holding out. Not that he doesn’t like Jungkook, because he does, he’s just also been friends with you since you were kids and he’s seen how this has gone.

“It’s different, Jimin,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Have you had The Talk?” He doesn’t put quotes around it, but you can hear them in his tone anyway.

“No, we haven’t had The Talk,” you say, matching his tone. “We’re both adults, like actual adults, I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“This time around with him started with you cheating on your ex,” Jimin says in a not-so-subtle reminder. If it were anyone else, you would leave.

“Thanks, I remember,” you bite back.

“I love you, you know that. I just want to make absolutely sure you’re not going to get hurt with this. I need to know he’s in this as much as you are,” Jimin says.

“Can you ever really know that?” The question seems valid enough.

“No, everything in relationships is a calculated risk. But it’s on you to make sure you have all the numbers before doing the calculations,” Jimin says.

“Meaning?” You think you know what he means, but it’s best to be sure.

“Meaning,” Jimin says with faux exasperation, “that the talk will let you know where he stands and allow you to be on the same page. He could lie, but then that’s on him if you get hurt. If you get hurt now, when you haven’t had the talk, that’s on you.”

“Little harsh, Jiminie,” you say, using the nickname to try and soften him.

It doesn’t work and he just shrugs. “We’ve done this song and dance a few times, maybe too many times. I just don’t want to see this end badly.”

“Then have a little faith, he is coming to a family wedding,” you say.

“And some of the way the conversation went makes me a little uneasy,” Jimin admits.

“Just have some faith. This time is different, I can feel it,” you say.

There’s a lot more than Jimin wants to say, a lot more he wants you to hear. But he’s also known you for years and seen you through every one of the Jungkook phases. People change all the time, he knows that. As people grow, the things they want or need evolve. Until you have an actual chat with him, though, Jimin is not ready to say this time will be different. It’s silly because he also knows that you’re going to do what you want, you always have. Not in a bad way, you’re just very stubborn when it comes to listening to advice. All he can do is hope for the best and be there if you need a shoulder. He tries not to think when you need a shoulder. As much as he likes being right, he likes you a whole lot more and he wants this to work.

The wedding goes well, great even. Jungkook is a hot topic of conversation, with a number of your family members gushing over how attractive he is and how good you look together. It gives you a small amount of pride to hear it too, even if it shouldn’t. It’s also good to have someone to retreat to when your family gets overwhelming. The added benefit of them not knowing him is that you both can slip out of conversations much easier. He’s never met anyone in your family and they don’t have as many questions for him. You also did an excellent job of establishing that you and him are very early on in the relationship, so questions about getting more serious are off the table.

Staying in a hotel with Jungkook is also a much better experience than you thought. You’ve stayed at each other’s places countless times over the years, but you’ve never gone away somewhere together. Even though it’s only a few hours from home, everything feels different. Everything feels more intimate. And there’s something to be said for hotel sex too. Everything is new and more exciting.

You reach out to Jimin the day after you get back to let him know how things went. And you’re a little surprised by his response. Instead of being excited for you that it’s going so well, he asks again if you’ve talked to Jungkook about where you are and where you’re going. It’s kind of a buzzkill and you’re quick to tell him so. But Jimin is stubborn too.

Jimin: I love you, you’re my best friend in the entire world, but I’m scared you’re going to end up hurt Jimin: I’ll be here to celebrate once you talk to him and I’ll say sorry when it’s all cleared up, but until then, I can’t fully support it

That hurts. It’s like he doesn’t realize that in not wanting Jungkook to hurt you, he’s hurting you instead. You shake that thought off as quickly as it comes, though. It’s not his intention to hurt you and somewhere deep down, you know he’s making sense. Jimin has been your go-to person for everything in your life since a matter of months into the friendship. The two of you were able to click in a way you haven’t really experienced with anyone else. So yeah, maybe, on some level, you get where he’s coming from and maybe you’ll understand later. Not right now, though. Right now you’re just hurt and a little angry at your best friend for not supporting you the way you want him to.

(Jimin, to his credit, does think he’s supporting you. It may not be in the way you want him to and you may not see it, but it’s the way he needs to support you. There’s a moment where he thinks that he’s the friend you deserve, just not the one you need right now. So he’ll let you be mad at him as long as you need to. Or maybe he’s been watching Dark Knight too much lately.)

This is where you know you’re not always the best at being an adult. Whether Jimin is right or not becomes irrelevant because you’re more concerned with not letting him win. It’s like he tells you something and you have to do the opposite, just because. Which, really, that’s probably something you need to address in therapy. It’s probably not a healthy approach, but it’s where you’re at for now.

Things feel…a little different. Not good different, either. At first, you were positive that it was just the lingering effects of Jimin being Jimin. Even when he’s not speaking to you, since this is not the first time he’s done this, he’s very loud. But days go by and the pit in your stomach only gets deeper. You can’t separate your own thoughts and anxieties to see if anything with Jungkook is actually different.

When you stop to think about it, though, everything with Jungkook should be different. It’s been around three months now. Three months of you spending a truly absurd amount of time together. Three months of movie nights in, dinners out, random trips to the park. Three months of ending up in each other’s bed every time you went over. Three months of you not seeing anyone else. Was he seeing other people, though? Surely not. Would there really even be time?

But…

That nasty word coming up to haunt you again. But, could you really make any assumptions where another person was involved? After all, your ex had no reason to think anything was wrong with you, no reason to think the relationship was coming to a screeching halt. Yet, it did. It did because you stopped talking to him. Well, you didn’t stop talking to him, you said a lot of words. You just didn’t say any of the ones that actually mattered.

It’s impossible to keep the last conversation with Jimin off your mind. You will never tell him he was right, but you’re also constantly wondering if it’s time for that talk. Lately it’s been taking Jungkook longer to do everything. Longer to text you back, longer in between seeing each other, longer to come out of his phone if he checks it while you’re hanging out (something he never used to do).

And, okay, from the outside, you know how any of those things look. It’s just, you’re still really happy and you’re not really looking to give that up. You think that maybe what’s best, for now, is just to take a slight step back, not be the one to reach out to him and make plans. Either he’ll make plans with you or you will have the final push to have a conversation you should have had weeks ago. (Really, you should’ve had this conversation before you blew up your life, but who’s counting?)

Jungkook: hey, things have been kinda crazy with work, but can i see you tonight?

Which answers that, doesn’t it? You ignore your smarter thoughts, most of which are driven by Jimin’s words playing on repeat, and answer quicker than you should. Even though you offer to stop on your way to pick food up, Jungkook says he’s already picking something up and to just meet him at the apartment.

It’s all different now. Before, when things were only happy, you’d be excited that he knew you well enough to pick up takeaway for the both of you. Now, you wonder if he really has been busy with work. There’s something about the text that implies something’s shifted. You hate it and you want to just go back to before. Maybe tonight will be the perfect chance for that.

It’s not.

The silences are awkward and what’s worse is that you can’t tell if Jungkook feels awkward about it as well, or if it’s just you. Actually, what’s worse is you don’t know which you’d prefer. Then there’s this weird space between you while you’re watching a movie. It’s like you’re not really close enough to cuddle and you’re not really far enough away for it to be a normal, friend-sized space between you. It’s just this awkward limbo and you’re trying really hard not to overthink the space being a metaphor for where the two of you are in this weird relationship.

Jungkook is on his phone a lot throughout the movie too, which only worsens the way you feel. He says he’s still got a lot going on at work, that they’re in very real danger of missing deadlines and he’s so sorry. The rational part of you really wants to let it be that. The louder part of you, the one you know is irrational, can’t leave it alone. At least internally. You know you can’t say anything out loud and have it come across right. Your internal monologue is another story, though.

But, that’s the thing, isn’t it? You made a lot of assumptions about where you were with Jungkook, about what the two of you were doing, about it being a relationship. The reality is you’ve been fucking regularly for months now and haven’t bothered to define things. It was perfect at the beginning, when Jungkook insisted that the two of you knew what was happening and what other people thought didn’t matter. It made you feel like it was you against everyone else. Which should’ve been a clue. A relationship should never put you against the people outside of it. A healthy relationship should be able to integrate into your regular life.

You don’t stay over at his place that night. Jungkook offers and even makes it seem like he wants you to. You might even believe him if he didn’t mention getting up early for work and checking his phone. That annoying voice in the back of your head is shouting danger, danger, danger. The ugly thoughts wonder if he actually wants you to stay at all or if he just doesn’t want to be the bad guy for sending you home.

He gives you a kiss in the doorway and you’re on your way out. The last little bit of positivity in the back of your mind is hoping he’ll change his mind, that he’ll come rushing out and say he’s been stupid. Of course he wants you to stay and of course it’s worth it being tired at work tomorrow because he’s missed you, things have been off, and he wants to make sure he fixes them.

But, he doesn’t do any of those things. The doubts firmly take hold of your brain.

The next day, you’re still thinking over what you want to do when you get an unexpected text from him. He’s got a function after work, the kind of thing where you have to go to a bar and pretend you want to be socializing with coworkers off the clock, but it’s okay because the boss usually buys a few rounds. It’s the kind of thing someone might ask their partner to come to, so they’re not so bored.

Jungkook’s message is clear. He wants to see you. After he’s done with the work function, which he warns might not be until later. So he understands if it’s too late for you to come over since it is still during the week and you have to work tomorrow. He seems genuinely excited when you say you’ll definitely still come over and your heart constricts for a second.

You need to set your phone aside, just for a second, just long enough to let your heart settle back down, because you’ve made up your mind. It’s time (past time, honestly) that you have a real conversation with Jungkook. This last exchange proves it. You’re back to being the girl he calls up after a night out at the bar, the booty call for sex. Admittedly, it is the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s not the point. For a bit, you were the girl that he made plans with. And, yeah, he’s asking you before he goes to the bar if you’ll be there after. But, the fact is, it’s still same day and it’s not really anything more than a hook-up text.

The text from Jungkook letting you know he’s heading home comes and you take a couple shots to give yourself the confidence to go through with The Talk. You weren’t planning on driving anyway. No matter how this goes, you’re not planning to head home afterwards so having your car seems more inconvenient than anything.

Apparently, Jungkook only beats you there by a few minutes, which might’ve bothered you in any other situation. The way he says it sounds accusatory in your mind. All you can see now is talking before you lose the little bit of liquid courage you have.

“Do you want to watch a movie or do you just want to…” Jungkook asks, trailing off suggestively.

That pit in the bottom of your stomach worsens. The unfinished question hangs between you like a glaring sign saying he just wants to fuck you. It all just feels really cheap and like another waste of your time. Just another in a long line of mistakes. Only one way to find out, though, and so you take a deep breath and dive in.

“Actually, I kind of wanted to talk to you,” you say and that brings him up short.

“About what?” Jungkook asks.

He seems defensive. It’s all wrong. Something in you had been holding out hope that this would go exactly the way you wanted it to. That hope gets harder to hold onto.

“Just…this, us,” you say, hating how you sound so unsure.

“Us?” Jungkook asks and somehow that makes you angrier. Is he being fucking stupid on purpose?

“Yeah, Jungkook, us,” you say with more bite than you intended. “We’ve been doing this dance for, what, like 3 or 4 months? What are we doing, exactly?”

Jungkook’s confused. He gets this look on his face sometimes, like he’s trying to work out a really complex calculus problem and just can’t make things make sense. It makes him look younger, more innocent. It makes you want to protect him. But you can’t afford to think that way, and he doesn’t need to be protected.

“We’re just, I don’t know, we’re hanging out. We’ve been having fun, you know, everything is just easy, which is nice,” Jungkook says.

“Just hanging out and having fun? What, are we back in college?” Your voice raises an octave because, despite all your planning, you really aren’t ready for this.

“I’m not really sure what’s happening here,” Jungkook admits.

“I’m just confused,” you admit in return. “Like we’re always together, we go out on dates. You came with me to a family wedding for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, because I like hanging out with you and the wedding seemed important to you,” Jungkook says.

“It was important but still, what is this?”

Jungkook really still looks helpless and you’re constantly reminding yourself not to take care of him. It’s not what either of you needs. “Why does it have to be something defined? Why does there have to be this big deal?”

“Because we’re grown now, because I can’t keep blowing up my life for…” you start, but cut yourself off, quickly closing your mouth again.

“No, blowing your life up for what? For me?” Jungkook asks and you look away, unable to see him looking at you like that. “I never asked you to blow up your life for me.”

“You didn’t exactly turn me away that night either. You knew I was in a relationship,” you say and he scoffs.

“Yeah, I did know. But last time I checked, it’s not my responsibility to make sure you don’t cheat on your partner. I wasn’t the one in a relationship,” Jungkook says.

“No, because you’re never in a relationship, you’re always just having fun,” you say, voice dripping with disdain.

“And what’s so wrong with that? I’ve never been anything but honest about exactly who I am and what I want,” Jungkook says.

“People change all the time! Excuse me for thinking you’d grow the fuck up and realize actually being with someone isn’t that bad,” you say and Jungkook rolls his eyes again.

“What do you think I’ve been doing? I know being with someone isn’t bad. We’ve been having a great time for months until whatever the fuck this is,” Jungkook says.

“And how many other girls have you been having a good time with at the same time?” The question is out before you can even figure out if you want to ask it.

Opposite you, Jungkook rolls his lips together, like he’s trying to give himself a minute before answering. He can have a short temper at times.

“I’m not really sure why the answer to that question matters,” Jungkook says and you shake your head.

“I should’ve known,” you say.

“None though, for the record. Like I told you, I’ve been busy at work. So, I’m either there, working out, playing video games, or with you,” he says and you come up short.

“What?”

“Don’t take that the wrong way,” Jungkook says quickly. “I haven’t fucked anyone else in months, and I haven’t wanted to either. I’ve been having a great time with you. But, that also doesn’t mean this is something more than it is.”

“Meaning?” The balloon of hope pops just as quickly as it formed and you’re feeling even worse than before.

“Meaning,” Jungkook starts. “I don’t want…this. I don’t want to be fighting with you about some bullshit definition of what we are or where we’re headed. I like you, I do. But my answers to those still haven’t changed from the first time we hooked up 7 years ago. I don’t want that super committed relationship with expectations and check-ins and eventually marriage. I don’t want a house and kids and a white picket fence so the dog doesn’t get out.”

“You make it sound like a death sentence,” you say, completely deflated.

“I don’t mean to, it’s just not for me. It’s not what I’ve ever wanted and I’ve never kept that a secret,” Jungkook says. “I mean, I don’t know, maybe it is like a death sentence for me.”

“It feels like a slap in the face,” you admit and Jungkook bristles at that.

“Why? Because I don’t want the same things as you?”

You struggle to find the right words because that’s not what you meant. “Because you must have known it’s what I wanted and yet we still kept going.”

“I guess I figured you heard me when I said, over and over again, that it wasn’t what I wanted,” Jungkook says. “I figured you heard me and you could make your decisions on what you wanted.”

“It just seemed like…” you start and frown. “We’re always together, it felt like more.”

“So you just assumed that it was something more without even asking me about it?” Jungkook asks and gets a glare in response.

“Okay, that’s a little extreme,” you say.

“Is it? I can see it. You’re mad at me, which I get, kind of,” Jungkook admits. “But also, I don’t get it? Because none of this had to happen. If you’d talked to me instead of building it all up in your head…”

“Wow, that was kind of a dick move,” you retort and he shakes his head.

“Or is it a dick move to create a whole relationship in your head and then make me the bad guy for not being on the same page?”

That brings you up short again. Does he have a point? Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?

“I do actually care about you,” Jungkook says. “I know that may be hard to believe, but I do. It’s also really fucked up to create a whole world in your head and then turn me into the bad guy for not being on the same page. I always said we were having fun, that it didn’t matter what friends thought, that we’re just going a day at a time.”

“Because you knew, Jungkook, you had to,” you say. He furrows his eyebrows at you. “You’ve always said things like that and for what? What reason do you have to constantly remind me what this is if you don’t think there’s confusion?”

“Once again, it is not my job to force a conversation you may want to have. Weren’t you just saying we’re not still in college? That goes both ways,” Jungkook says.

Round and round and round in circles you and Jungkook go. You’re mad at him for something that he may not even be able to control, something that you’ve always known about him. And you’re mad that he’s known you probably weren’t on the same page for a while. He’s mad that you’ve had so many of these conversations in your head or with friends without cluing him in. He’s mad that he feels like the bad guy.

The whole fight feels pointless, honestly. You both are mad at the other and maybe you both have a reason to be annoyed. Maybe he has a point and maybe you need to take a step back to examine some of the decisions that you’ve made too. Maybe he’s not the only one bringing this house of cards crashing to the floor.

And maybe that’s not something you want to deal with tonight.

The rational part of your brain knows you should leave and call an Uber straight to Jimin’s apartment. That same part knows that even if he has someone over, he’ll drop everything to make sure you’re okay. He won’t even start the I told you so until tomorrow. Because Jimin can be a giant pain in the ass when he wants to, but he’s got the biggest heart in the world. Going to Jimin’s is absolutely the right decision.

That’s why you call an Uber and head to the bar.

After a few drinks, the empty seat next to you is taken by a stranger with fluffy hair and an easy smile. Despite your protests, he takes over your tab so that you can keep drinking. It’s a bad idea, you know it’s a bad idea, and you don’t really care. You don’t really have any room for good ideas right now.

For his part, he actually seems like a decent guy, if you were sober and present enough to notice. He tells you his name, his job, about his friends. You think he even mentions movies he likes. Nothing about it feels like the normal situation at a bar. Then again, it’s a Wednesday night, not exactly prime time to be out picking someone up.

The next morning, you wake up in a too bright room in an unfamiliar bed and immediately start piecing things together. The conversation with Jungkook and your subsequent decision to get completely shit-faced come rushing back. A sense of shame washes over you. This is the part where some attractive guy, usually one you somehow know, walks into the bedroom, maybe wearing just a towel, and you realize what you did.

Except this isn’t a movie, thankfully, and somehow you’re actually clothed in the bed. You’re in an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts, but you also still have your bra and underwear on. Likely a sign that nothing happened beyond you getting embarrassingly drunk last night. Actually, looking around the room, it looks more like a guest bedroom than the master. Did you actually manage to find a decent guy when you were hellbent on making bad decisions?

You aren’t really in the mood to figure any of it out. Your clothes are folded up beside the bed and, when you get up, you hear the shower running. It’s the perfect time to leave without having to have an awkward conversation. And since you were at your quota for those, you grab your phone from beside the table and slip out, thankfully unseen.

First up, your text thread with Jimin. Which is a mistake, of course you had texted him and of course it was barely coherent. But bless Jimin, honestly, because you see he had taken care of calling you out of work. Actually, bless him for having all your passwords and being able to sign into your email to send the message. You know part of him calling you out is also so that he can carry out his Jimin-approved therapy, but you’ll take it. You’ll even take him telling you he was right.

In a slightly uncharacteristic move, Jimin is waiting outside your door when the Uber drops you off. He’s already been shopping for the essentials and he’s got his arms open for you to collapse into him before even crossing the threshold into the apartment. There’s nothing on his face except for care and concern, which really isn’t surprising. His beating you to your own apartment may be surprising, but him being the best friend you’ve ever had isn’t.

Everything kind of pours out of you at once when you and Jimin sit down on your couch, the tears, the self-loathing, the anger, the confusion, the pain. So much pain. Pain over your ex, pain over Jungkook, pain over past shit that you really thought you were over. It’s like the past months with Jungkook were just a bandaid, putting off the day you would eventually feel everything. There’s no putting it off anymore though. Now you’re in it and you’re so thankful for a friend like Jimin to hold your hand.

He’s surprisingly quiet throughout the whole thing. He listens to your thoughts, comforts you during the gaps in speaking, makes sure you have snacks and something to drink, keeps music playing quietly in the background because he knows you hate the silence. He asks questions that are gentle, nothing too heavy or accusatory. The only time he gets firm is when you cry about not deserving a friend like him.

“Yeah, you can be an asshole sometimes, but don’t ever let me catch you talking that way about yourself,” Jimin says, unmoving. “You’re human and we all make mistakes. We learn and we move forward. I won’t let you be mean to yourself, though. That’s what you don’t deserve.”

Once you feel like you’ve said everything that you could possibly say, Jimin informs you that you’re taking tomorrow off as well and that he’ll be staying over. Just like when you were in college. The order for the night was trashy TV and junk food and no wine for you because you’re still hungover and no talking about feelings at all. You can pick all that up again tomorrow, but tonight is about giving your brain a break.

It takes much longer than you expect to really come to terms with what happened between you and Jungkook. You haven’t seen him since you walked out the door. In fact, you hadn’t even texted him until reaching out yesterday to see if he was willing to meet up. It wasn’t to work through things, though, as much as it was for you to heal. And hopefully for him to heal as well.

The past few months have been some of the scariest and most rewarding of your life. You’ve never really been alone, separate from a partner. You’ve gone from one relationship to the next for as long as you could remember and ignored anyone suggesting to take time nearly as long. The fight with Jungkook had been a wake-up call, an unwelcome one at the time, but one that you can now see the value in. It forced you to really look at yourself, at your choices, at everything that led you to that moment, to learn what you actually wanted.

And you don’t really know what you want, but you think it’s somewhere between your ex and Jungkook. Yes, you want something stable and comfortable, someone that you know and that you can rely on. At the same time, you want someone that will challenge you, excite you, keep you on your toes. It was unfair of you to put all that onto Jungkook. Whatever mistakes he may have also made, you want to own yours. Part of you knew that he was never going to be what you needed him to be and rushed forward head first anyway.

Everything led you to this point now, where you wait for Jungkook to show up. He had replied quicker than you expected and seemed happy to meet, despite you being clear on needing to talk to him. Maybe there were things he needed to say too.

The tinkling of the bell over the door catches your attention and you watch Jungkook walk through the doors, somehow exactly the same. It’s only been a few months, you remind yourself, not like he could change entirely.

The next part feels awkward, how do you greet him? You stand, considering what to do, when he saves you the trouble and goes in to give you a quick hug. Nothing too serious and also nothing too formal.

“Thanks for meeting me,” you say and he smiles.

“Of course,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about everything that happened too, honestly, so it felt like a good time.”

And just like that, it’s easy to talk. Really talk. Jungkook lets you go first and you lay out everything you’ve learned over the past couple months. He lets you make your apologies and makes his own. You’re able to take ownership of the mistakes you make, because you really understand them after months working through your shit, and feel like he’s forgiven you for how you handled things. You know that you can never fully expect to get closure in life, but this feels close. It feels like you can actually close the door on a chapter to move forward.

Apparently he’s been doing a lot of work on himself too. He admits to knowing that you were in deeper than he was and letting it go on anyway, something he’s not proud of and something he hopes you’ll forgive. He’s not there yet but he’s working on better communication, letting partners know what he can give and what he can’t. He’s trying to figure out what it is he actually wants and what he doesn’t. Even though you don’t need him to say it, he also wants you to know that, as cliche as it sounds, it wasn’t you. Not entirely at least. He got so caught up in how good the physical side of things was that he didn’t consider how you were both hurting each other.

Neither one of you is really sure how to leave things. Part of you, and you can see part of him too, wants to ask if there’s a way to move forward as friends. He’s been part of your life on and off for the past 7 years, since meeting when you were only 18 years old. You take the plunge, though, and say that he’s always going to have a place in your heart. You’re just not sure he can have a place in your life, at least not now. There’s a moment of relief on his face. Like he’s happy you were the one to make the call because he isn’t sure he could. He really does have a lot of work to do, he says.

“Do you know him?” Jungkook asks as the conversation is naturally winding down.

You turn your head to follow his eyes on a man wearing dress pants and a nice shirt. He seems caught up in whatever he’s reading on his laptop, slightly shaggy hair slipping into his eyes. You’re about to say no when he looks up and meets your eyes. There’s something…familiar about him. Like you know him from somewhere that you’ve forgotten. Almost like the memory is hazy and you can’t fully grasp it. He smiles, a really nice smile, and then looks back down at his laptop.

“I don’t think so,” you finally answer.

“He keeps looking over here,” Jungkook comments. You look for any sign of anything negative on his face, but it isn’t there.

“Yeah, I don’t know, if I do know him, I can’t figure out from where,” you admit.

“Maybe you should say hi,” he says and you just smile.

“With you here?” you ask.

Jungkook smiles with a shake of his head. He’s standing up the next second. “I actually have to go to an appointment with my therapist.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say and stand as well to give him another hug. Slightly less awkward this time.

“I’m proud of you too, proud of us, really,” he says.

“Take care, Jungkook,” you say.

“You too,” he answers with a smile.

Just like that, he’s heading out the door. He looks back once to smile at you and you wave. You’re wondering if that’s the last time you’ll see him. Maybe it is and maybe that’s exactly how it should be. Things feel better now, easier. There’s no lingering doubts and even though you know you still have a ways to go, you think that you can really do it this time.

But before you can retreat further into your own head, a voice breaks through your thoughts.

“This seat still taken?”

You look up to find the man that Jungkook asked about moments earlier and that’s when it clicks. Yes, you do know him and you finally remember from where. The world certainly works in mysterious ways.

i hope you liked it, it was definitely a ride writing it <3

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #kvanity #bangtantheatrenet #jungkook angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #bts fic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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prettyprettypaci2 · 5 months

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Therapy - Part 6

💕 Part 1 💕 Part 2 💕 Part 3 💕 Part 4 💕 Part 5 💕

"I think you enjoyed that a little too much!"

Your heart is racing and you're panting frantically like a puppy. Beads of drool form at the corners of your mouth and you bite your lower lip as your body is overwhelmed with ecstasy. You need more. You'll beg Miss Heather for more. She has to keep going. You've been so good...

"Please..." You whine. "Just one more time..."

"Are you sure you can handle it?" Miss Heather chuckles, leveling her chin and smiling mischievously.

"I'll do anything..." You plead.

Miss Heather considers you with serious eyes, though she doesn't break her smile. You can tell you've won. Your therapist may know how to twist every dial in your mind, but you've learned how to twist a few of hers.

"Okay," she says slowly, opening her bag and reaching inside. "But you can't tell your step-mom. Get me a waffle cone."

You grab the money Miss Heather hands you and race back over to the ice cream truck parked about fifty feet from your picnic table. Your eyes dart across the landscape of colors and textures in the refrigerated trolley, ensnaring you in a dream state. Your pupils are as big as saucers, soaking in the strawberry reds, the minty greens, the enticing purple swirls. You hadn't had ice cream -- or really any appetizing food -- since your step-mom and step-sisters forced you into diapers. You're lucky when you get to eat graham crackers and applesauce.

You settle on a large double-scoop of fudge brownie supreme. Dutifully palming Miss Heather's waffle cone of decadent lemon torte, you thank the uneasy man at the counter and are practically skipping back to your table at the park, both treats in hand. You're used to people looking at you a little funny when you're out and about. They see an adult wearing long sausage curls topped with a pink hairbow the size of a milk bottle. They watch you romp around in furry boots and thick wool socks pulled up to your knees. And of course, they notice your denim dress isn't quite long enough to cover the crinkly companion on your bum.

As you pass a table of young women your age, you overhear them sniggering. A caustic voice says "Oh, look at the ice creams; brown and yellow, just like the diapers!" Your jubilant skipping fumbles into an awkward waddle, and you almost fall over. In your moment of distraction, the tower of brown fudge ice cream tips towards you and smushes into the front of your denim dress. You gasp at the cold, gooey sensation on your chest, and let the cone slip from your hands. It lands in the grass between your furry boots.

"Whoops! Baby had a blowout," a different woman teases, and the table erupts in laughter. You look down at the thick brown smudge on your dress and feel your face get hot. The joy that was bubbling up inside you seems to drain out of your body, literally, as your sagging diaper expands beneath your hips. You've started to pee.

"Oh my GOD!"

"Is this HAPPENING right now?"

"Do we, like, call the cops or something?"

You feel frozen in time and space. The voices are different, but when you close your eyes, the taunting words become those of your step-sisters, Lauren and Olivia. It's all their fault. If they hadn't tormented you...if they hadn't faked your accidents...you wouldn't be having a real one right here in the middle of the park. You wouldn't be wearing this ridiculous hairbow or this dress or...this stupid diaper.

Your gush of pee slows to a tepid trickle, and you reflexively push your thighs together to feel the new girth of your mushy padding. At least you won't leak. You flash back to when Lauren and Olivia had forced you to keep wetting your diaper until it swelled beyond capacity, and you piddled on the carpet like a scared puppy.

MY diapers are soft.

You remember your step-mom locking the bathroom door at night, since that was the only way to keep you from trying to take your diaper off.

MY diapers are convenient.

You remember being grabbed by the pigtails and having your face shoved in your diaper pail, gagging from the acrid odor of your own making.

MY diapers smell so sweet.

You don't remember how you got back to the picnic table where Miss Heather was waiting for you. You must have handed her the yellow waffle cone you had managed to hang onto, because you see it in her hands. It feels like the last minute of your memory simply erased itself. You look forlornly at the grass.

"I've got some stain remover in my desk," Miss Heather says sympathetically. "Always good for emergencies. We'll have you good as new when we get back to the office."

You look up at Miss Heather with glistening, tearful eyes. "I think I need to be punished."

Miss Heather mouths a silent 'oh' and smiles sadly. "It was just an accident. There's no need to worry."

You smother your face with your hand, sweeping aside a bouncy sausage curl. "No, I mean...I wanted to take my diaper off. I still want to take my diaper off. That's against the rules. You should spank me."

Miss Heather reaches over and takes your hand off your face. She folds her fingers over your palm and grips it tightly.

"You're such a brave, brave person," she says. Her voice is comforting and genuine. "I've never known anyone like you. You try so hard to learn and grow. You appreciate the majesty of simple things. You're going to make someone very happy someday."

"Do I make you happy?" The question comes out of your mouth, but it's as if it were someone else's thought. It was so bold and unplanned, you hardly believe you said it. Miss Heather is caught off-guard and you feel her grip on your hand loosen a bit. You don't let go.

"You...I mean...I think I should drive you back soon. We don't want Mr. Kazoo to worry, do we? Why don't you have my ice cream in the car?" You've never heard Miss Heather sound anxious before.

You shift around a bit, feeling your diaper squish against the hard seat of the picnic table. The spring air is already making it cold and clammy against your skin. "I think I need a diaper change before my spanking," you reply matter-of-factly.

Butterflies flood your tummy as Miss Heather's grip on your hand reasserts itself. Whatever vulnerability was there disappears as you remind her why you need her. Why she needs you to need her. You feel safe. She's in charge again.

Miss Heather reaches into her bag and pulls out your giant pink pacifier. Your mouth falls open the moment it appears in her hand. You lick your lips before she slides the rubber nipple between them, pushing it deeply inside you. Your tongue laps at the familiar fullness, and you suckle calmly. Miss Heather hands you the ice cream cone and guides you to your feet, lightly smacking the back of your drooping diaper. You squirm, and feel the butterflies soar.

"Get in the car. Back seat. Now."

🦋🦋🦋

💕 Part 7 and Epilogue 💕

#ab dl diaper #ab dl lifestyle #ab dl mommy #diaper pee #diaper sissy #diaper training #diaper dependent #unpotty training #ab/dl community #diaper bulge #diaper gal #diapered247

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 5 months

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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 27

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo X OFC

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Warnings: Discussions about intimate partner violence, suicidal ideation, mental health struggles, drug abuse, and alcohol abuse.

Chapter Quote: "I got to snuggle some baby goats."

It took everything in me to hold back the sob that threatened to escape the instant I heard Dieter’s voice. I momentarily placed my hand over my mouth to hold it in and compose myself. I let out a shaky breath as I tried to find my voice.

“Dieter?”

I could hear his stuttered breathing on the other end of the line. He sounded like he was battling with his emotions too.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah… it’s me.”

I sighed loudly into the phone as the tears started to slide down my face. I felt like my brain had completely shut down on me, unsure of what to say but also feeling the urge to say everything all at once. It was so overwhelming but also awkward since we had not talked in so long. There were still so many things up in the air between us.

“How’ve you been?” He asked, sounding unsure of himself. I felt like he didn’t know what to say either.

I sniffed loudly as I wiped at my face, “Umm, I’ve been ok. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling good. Normal, I think…then again…I’m not sure I really know what normal is,” we both laughed nervously.

“I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. I can confidently say that at least,” he added.

I smiled. It was nice to know that he was feeling better. It helped dampen some of the worry I had been feeling.

“How are things going, otherwise?”

“Well, I got to snuggle some baby goats during group therapy this morning. I kinda want one now.” He sounded unabashed about this revelation.

“Of course you do,” I said in response, shaking my head and chuckling at the thought.

“I gotta new roommate two weeks ago…Gordon is his name. He’s an interesting guy…he uhhh…” he stifled a laugh before continuing. “He said he came here because the wall outlets were talking to him. Like, full conversations. They finally stopped after he got his meds sorted out. Made me feel a little better about my issues.”

I was a little dumbfounded, “Ummm, I’m not sure if I should laugh about that or not…” Dieter snickered, “He jokes about it now, so I think it’s ok.”

It felt good to hear him laughing again. I had missed that sound more than I realized. I really missed his voice in general. He sounded different. Better, lighter almost. It was a sound I wanted to commit to memory.

“Umm…so Gabby said you didn’t take that job offer?” His nervousness had returned with that question.

“No, I turned it down.” I started rubbing at my shoulder with my free hand as I moved to sit down at the kitchen table.

“Why? It sounded like an amazing opportunity”

I sighed, now rubbing at the crease between my brows, “It was, but it’s not where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do. I would’ve had to give up too much and I don’t feel like I’m in the right headspace to do that.”

“I hope it wasn’t because of me…”

“No. I mean, I guess I can’t say no. You’re part of it…but my life is here. I can’t leave Lauren or even Gabby and Alex at this point. We’ve all gotten so close. And like I said, I’m not in the right headspace for that. I would’ve been spending a lotta time alone and I don’t wanna do that right now. It just wasn’t where I felt like I should be. I didn’t feel any kind of excitement over it at all, so I turned it down”

I suddenly felt vulnerable revealing that to him, questioning if I should have. I didn’t want him to worry about me when he needed to be focusing on himself.

“Are you sure you’re doing ok?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, I promise. I’m just…I-” I huffed, shaking my head. I wasn’t sure if it was ok to finish that thought. I didn’t want to make any assumptions about how he was feeling or make an ass of myself.

I heard him chuckle quietly over my flustered response, “I miss you too.”

I was instantly calmed by his words, my anxiety about where we stood easing some. I let out a shy laugh at his declaration, tears still running down my face as I sniffled out, “You do?”

“Of course, I do, so fucking much… I - I’m sorry I haven't called you. I wanted to make sure I had a clear head when I did, and then I didn’t really know what to say after everything that happened.”

I heard him inhale sharply before he spoke up again, there was a tapping noise, like he was drumming his fingers against something.

“Listen, I’ve only got a few minutes left before they cut me off for today, but the reason I called…”

He paused, clearing his throat nervously, “Umm, so I wanted to see if you would be willing to come here and do a session with my psychiatrist and me…”

“Of course, when?”

“Whenever you can. Just uhh, call my case worker and she’ll get it scheduled.”

I could hear him shuffle around before he started cursing under his breath.

“Well, I was gonna give you the number but now I can’t find it...Gabby should have it.”

I couldn’t help but to snigger at him. He was still a little bit of a hot mess, which I loved about him.

He followed up with an exasperated “sorry” about not being able to find the number before he let out a quiet laugh at himself. It felt like part of it was his nervousness too.

“I’ll text her to get it as soon as we hang up and I’ll call immediately.”

I could hear him sigh in relief before a beeping noise broke into our conversation with an automated message giving a one minute warning.

“I’ll be there tomorrow if they’ll let me…or at least as soon as they’ll let me,” I said in a rush. Suddenly feeling the pressure of our limited time. I still felt like I had so many things to say to him.

“I would like that. I…I really can’t wait to see you…”

His words trailed off, shaking slightly as he was hit with another wave of emotions.

“I can’t wait to see you either,” I replied with a quivering voice.

After a moment of silence, there was a clicking sound as the line disconnected. I held the phone against my forehead, trying to get my breathing back to normal. Once I was able to focus my thoughts, I sent a quick text to Gabby to let her know that Dieter had called and that I needed the number for his case worker. I half expected her to call me, but thankfully she didn’t. She replied back quickly with the number and that she was happy he finally reached out. She followed that message up with another asking me if I was ok and if I needed to talk about it. I appreciated her offer, but I was good for now and let her know as much. Once I finished texting with Gabby, I dialed the number for the case worker, suddenly feeling nervousness forming in the pit of my stomach.

“Sanctuary Hills, this is Sharon,” the polite, yet comforting voice answered.

“Hi Sharon, this is Natalia Cohen…” She cut in before I could continue.

“Oh, Talia, hi. I’ve been expecting your call. Dieter told me he was going to be calling you.”

I let out a nervous laugh, slightly taken aback by the familiarity in which she said my name. It made me wonder how much he had talked about me.

“I assume you’re calling about an appointment for a family session?”

I didn’t know why, but it stirred something in me when she called it a family session. Technically, I wasn’t his family, but they were treating me as if I were. I could feel the tears prickling at my eyes again as I exhaled out a breathy “yes” in response.

“That’s wonderful news, I know he’ll be overjoyed to see you.” I could hear the smile in her voice

“I can’t wait to see him either,” I replied, still trying to keep the emotions out of my words.

“Alright, let me have a look at the schedule. Dr. Rosenberg did ask that you be prepared to be available for at least a week for additional sessions, if possible.”

“Additional sessions?” I was confused. I couldn’t recall if the same thing had been asked of Gabby, which caused my anxiety to flare.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal for that to happen. It’s mostly educational sessions for family members if they’re willing to participate.”

“Oh, ok. That doesn’t sound so bad.” I laughed nervously.

“When would you like to come in?” she asked with a calming tone.

“As soon as you can get me in is preferable.” I started tapping on the table as I waited for options, listening to the clicking of a keyboard on her end.

“How about 10 AM the day after tomorrow?”

“I’ll take it,” I said a little too eagerly. The anticipation of seeing Dieter again was starting to get to me.

“I have it scheduled. In case you do end up staying for additional sessions, we have apartments on site for patient families. So, you won’t have to worry about lodging. We don’t want you stressing about that while you’re here.”

“Oh, that’s…nice. Thanks for letting me know.”

“When you arrive for your session, come in the north entrance with the blue awning and they'll get you checked in. It’s a different entrance than where you would have come in before.”

I thanked her and our conversation ended soon after that. Afterwards, I sat staring out the kitchen window, feeling the anxiousness settle into my gut. Not knowing what to expect was always the worst for me. It was like that call had started a countdown, to what, I wasn’t sure. I could only hope the end result would be something positive.

The morning of our session, I had a ridiculously early flight so that I could be there in time. I decided to keep things simple with minimal makeup, a messy bun, sunglasses, sneakers, skinny jeans, and one of Dieter’s button up dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up. I had raided his closet while I was at his house cleaning up. It was something small, but being wrapped in his scent or wearing something that belonged to him brought me some comfort during my time without him. His clothing quickly became a staple in my casual attire.

I was so anxious about seeing Dieter again that the flight didn’t faze me like it normally would have. Though it was an hour and a half, it seemed much quicker as the minutes continued to count down and the distance between us shortened. I could feel myself getting more worked up the closer I got. By the time I acquired the rental car and was on the road to the facility, my chest was heavy. Breathing was getting harder with each mile that passed.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I sat gripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands and taking deep breaths. I wasn’t even sure why I was so nervous, it’s not like I knew what Dieter was planning to talk to me about. However, deep down I had a fear, though most likely irrational, that he was going to realize he didn’t really want to be with me after this. I wasn’t sure if I could handle that a second time if it were to happen. Without permission, the tears started to streak down my cheeks, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

After a few more deep breaths, I slammed my fist down on the stop of the steering wheel out of frustration, “Fucking hell, get it together Talia.”

My head dropped back onto the headrest as I squeezed my eyes shut, still taking deep controlled breaths. After several minutes passed, I let out a slow exhale before opening my eyes. Feeling more relaxed, I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look like a complete mess before exiting the vehicle to go inside.

I was starting to have an out of body feeling as I went through the check in process. I couldn’t really remember walking to the building or anything the lady behind the desk had just said to me as I sat down in the lobby to wait. After a few minutes, one of the receptionists called my name and led me through a secure door down a long hallway. We passed several offices that had glass inserts in the doors with shades. Most of the shades were pulled closed, however, I noticed one was open. As I approached, I glanced inside and was met with a familiar figure sitting in a high backed desk chair in the middle of the room with his head leaned back and eyes closed as he spun back and forth, his legs bouncing ever so often. He was sitting on the opposite side of a desk from a woman who was possibly in her fifties, with graying hair and a kind face. Though, she did have a slightly overwhelmed look about her as her eyes met mine through the glass.

I stopped briefly, watching him wave his hands animatedly as he talked incessantly, never raising his head or opening his eyes. I felt a small smirk sneak across my face. He was nervous too. I could tell. My eyes flicked back to the woman, who was watching me watch him with a soft smile on her face.

My attention was pulled away by the receptionist, who was now at my side waiting for me to continue following her.

“He’s been driving us all crazy this morning. I think poor Sharon is getting the worst of it. He’s beyond excited that you’re here today.”

I chuckled at the thought before continuing down the hallway. I was led into a spacious office. It was modern and white with floor to ceiling windows on one side with nothing in sight but nature. All the furnishings were earth tones of brown and deep reds and oranges. I noticed there were a lot of plants filling the space, which added a homey feeling, in a strange sort of way. It also struck me how there were different seating areas on either side of the room. One had a small couch and cushy chair positioned in front of it, while the other had four cushy chairs sitting closely together in a circle. Each of the seats were adorned with soft looking pillows in various shades matching the space. There was a traditional desk setup in the center of the room with two chairs placed in front of it. Each area felt carefully designed to meet specific needs.

Moments after entering the room, I was greeted by Dr. Rosenberg who first shook my hand, then pulled me in for a loose hug.

“Talia, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you the last couple of months.”

It took me by surprise, though I felt like it shouldn’t have. There was a certain familiarity and kindness that everyone seemed to have toward me. Everyone had been very warm and welcoming thus far. It was comforting to know this was the type of environment that Dieter had been in.

I gave her a tight lipped smile as she led me over to sit in one of the four chairs in a circle. To my surprise, the chair spun slightly as I sat in it. Dr. Rosenberg turned hers to face me directly, so I did the same with mine. I had managed to stay composed thus far, but my nervousness was starting to show as I reached up and rubbed at my shoulder. The psychiatrist was silent for a moment as she watched my movements. I stopped, sat up straight and placed both hands on top of my crossed legs to keep from fidgeting.

I’m not sure why, but I felt the need to appear like I had my shit together. I took a minute to study her as she gave me a soft smile while she continued to get settled, grabbing a notepad, file folder, pen, and glasses from the small table next to her seat. She was probably in her early fifties, maybe late forties. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she was dressed in business casual attire. I could tell she wanted to appear professional, but not uninviting. She was also definitely looking at my body language very closely, which was making me feel antsy. My therapist used to do that, and I hated it. I mentally smacked myself over my thoughts. I was already putting up walls and we hadn’t even started talking yet.

“Well, it’s been an exciting morning around here. Dieter is definitely happy you’re here. He was asked to leave his group session this morning because he couldn't focus. He’s been bugging poor Sharon ever since.” She laughed and smiled affectionately at her words.

She was trying to get me to relax. I knew that I looked too tense. I let out a breathy laugh as I sat back further in the seat, trying to appear less uptight, but I didn't think it was working. She gave me a sympathetic look suddenly, “You’re nervous to see him.”

It wasn’t a question. Looking down at my hands, I chuckled to myself briefly before clearing my throat to speak, “Yeah, I guess I am. I just…don’t know what to expect.”

“That’s a perfectly normal feeling. It’s not unusual for family members to worry if their loved one is going to be different after treatment. Is that some of what you’re feeling?”

Her question took me by surprise, “Ummm, maybe. Sort of...maybe not so much about him being different…more about him feeling differently.”

She nodded, “I understand. I can’t say that he won’t be different. His personality may present differently, more calm, less emotional or moody. He will feel differently in that he won’t be cycling from one extreme to the other, emotionally. As far as how he feels ABOUT things, that isn’t going to change just because he’s stabilized. Does that make sense?”

I gave a tight nod, “Yeah, it does.” It didn’t do anything to ease my anxiety though because I still didn’t know how he really felt about us. She eyed me for a second before continuing.

“So, I’ll fill you in on my plan for today. First, you and I are going to chat about Dieter’s diagnosis. Once we’re done, I’m going to bring him in for the session. After that, you and I will have a follow-up meeting to discuss the path forward. Does that sound ok to you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I started to chew on my bottom lip while she flipped through the file in her hand.

“Great. Just so you’re aware, Dieter signed release forms for you to have access to his medical and treatment information. Nothing is off the table, so if you have questions, ask. He made it clear to me that he wants you to know everything and wants you involved as much as you want to be.”

I paused briefly, shocked by that information. I exhaled the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “Ok...I wasn’t expecting that.”

She smiled before continuing, “Alright, let’s get to it then?” She raised her brows at me, asking permission to proceed. I motioned with my hand to continue.

“So, he’s been formally diagnosed with mixed episode Bipolar I Disorder (BD). In simple terms, bipolar disorder is when someone experiences extreme behavioral or mood changes. The extreme highs are called manic episodes, and lows are episodes of depression. Most people with BD go through highs and lows over an extended period of time. Someone with mixed episodes, like Dieter has, tend to experience both highs and lows simultaneously or in a rapid sequence with no recovery time.”

She paused, giving me a minute to digest her words. I couldn’t say I was surprised by the diagnosis, it actually made a lot of his behavior make sense. When I didn’t speak up, she continued.

“I think what happened with Dieter…he was put on a lot of medication. Antidepressants in particular can be very tricky for someone with BD. It can cause an increased risk of mood destabilization when the antidepressants are not taken with a mood stabilizer. He was on pretty much everything but a mood stabilizer. You add that in with not sleeping, not eating, drinking, anxiety, and episode triggers…it’s a recipe for disaster. Sometimes being improperly medicated like that can trigger suicidal ideation and even psychosis. Honestly, he was fighting a losing battle.”

I leaned forward in my seat, placing my elbows on my knees while I rubbed at my face. I felt anger bubbling in my chest.

“Why didn’t his therapists or doctors catch what was happening?”

“One reason…lack of experience. BD is also incredibly hard to diagnose because it shares symptoms with so many other more common disorders like anxiety, depression, PTSD, and ADHD, which is what he was being treated for. That’s not to say he doesn’t have those things as well, but if he does, we need to take a different treatment approach.”

I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. “Wow, that actually kind of blows my mind.”

“I know… and I’m surprised that no one thought to look into it, given his family history. It can be hereditary, and BD does have a high suicide rate. Given what happened with his mother, it should’ve been considered. Also, the fact that he experienced trauma in dealing with that incident...trauma often causes the onset of symptoms.”

I sighed heavily as the tears started to pool in my eyes, “This actually…kind of pisses me off that he had to go through all of this needlessly. He fucking hated taking that stuff because of the way it made him feel.”

“That brings me to my next topic...It's been hard to get a baseline with him. I feel like a lot of the things he was experiencing were side effects from all the medications he was on. I can’t really rely on his history before he started the medication because he was using recreational and prescription drugs and drinking heavily to self medicate, which could have been making things worse for him during that time as well.” She paused briefly to gauge my reaction, “I assume you knew about his past substance abuse issues?”

“Yeah, he’s mentioned it…What does all that mean?”

“Well, it’s hard to know exactly what his actual symptoms are right now. So, to start, I’m doing the bare minimum. I’ve started him out on a low dose mood stabilizer called divalproex sodium. It’s actually…an anticonvulsant that’s normally used to treat seizures rather than a typical mood stabilizer like lithium.”

I drew my brows down together in confusion, “Why a seizure medication?”

“That medication increases the amount of a chemical called gamma-aminobutyric acid in the brain. It works to block certain transmissions across the nerves in the brain and creates sort of an overall calming effect. That particular medication often works best for patients that have mixed or rapid cycling episodes. Lithium typically doesn’t get the job done in those instances. He seems to be doing well on it so far. We’ll give it a few more months to make sure everything else is out of his system and reevaluate.”

“So, he went from taking half the pharmacy…to one thing?”

“He did. He seems pretty set on limiting the medications as much as possible. He’s been spending a lot of his time doing cognitive behavioral therapy, interpersonal and social rhythm therapy, and psychoeducation to help him manage his symptoms and learn about triggers and that sort of thing. He’s been very invested in it, and it seems to be helping.”

I sighed, starting to feel overwhelmed, “I don’t know what all of that is. I mean, I know cognitive behavioral therapy but…” I shook my head in confusion.

“No worries, if you decide to continue with the family education sessions you’ll learn about that stuff. I know it’s a lot to take in...”

“Yeah, it is, but I’m happy that he’s hopefully on the right track now.” I took a couple of deep breaths to try and relax some as I continued to process things.

“One last thing before I bring Dieter in...I know you two were no longer together before his hospitalization and you haven’t really had a chance to work things out. His preference is to stay with you when he leaves treatment. I do want to be able to manage his expectations if that isn’t going to be the case. I don’t want you to feel like you have to allow that if you aren’t ready to take all this on. I want you to know that you can say no.”

I was taken aback at her directness, but also appreciated it. I actually felt like I was warming up to her some and feeling more comfortable with opening up to her. I didn’t hesitate with my response, if anything, I said it with conviction, looking directly into her eyes as I spoke.

“There’s no question in my mind about him coming home with me so long as he wants to. I’ve known from the start that he was struggling with his mental health, and I promised to support him through it. A new diagnosis doesn’t change anything for me. I’m all in for this.”

Dr. Rosenberg gave me a warm smile, clearly satisfied with my response. “Now I see why he says you can be a force to be reckoned with.”

My eyebrows shot up at her words as she again took me by surprise, “Dieter said that?” I chuckled at the thought as I leaned back in my seat, surprised that was the wording he chose.

“He’s said a lot of things about you, all positive, of course.” She laughed quietly to herself as she set her glasses on the table. As she stood, she announced she was going to go get him for our joint sessions.

After Dr. Rosenberg disappeared out the door, I could feel my anxiety returning. My chest was starting to tighten again as my heart beat a mile a minute. Instinctively, my right hand moved to rub at my shoulder. Was he going to be upset about how easily I gave up on us? I didn’t know how he couldn’t be. It didn’t sound like he was planning to end things for good even though that thought kept crossing my mind. It was clearly my pessimism and self-doubt seeping in. The thought of being completely open and vulnerable in this setting was making things worse too. I wasn’t a fan of having an audience, but I needed to get over that and not build up my walls right now. I propped my arm on the rest of the chair and started to rub at my forehead as my leg began to bounce. I couldn’t make myself stop the fidgeting no matter how hard I tried.

After several minutes passed, Dr. Rosenberg returned with Dieter following behind her. His head was down, clenching and unclenching his hands as he walked. As he approached me, he finally looked my way through his lashes. He gave me a small smile that widened as his eyes dropped down to my shirt, obviously noticing I was wearing one of his. I gave him a shy smile in return. He sat down in the chair directly in front of me as Dr. Rosenberg returned to her earlier spot.

It was clear he was nervous by the way he couldn’t keep his hands still and how the heel of his croc kept bouncing off the tiled floor. He would only occasionally glance in my direction as we waited for Dr. Rosenberg to get settled again. I took the opportunity to study his appearance. He looked so much better compared to the last time I had seen him. His light gray t-shirt was no longer loose looking around his fit torso. His pale skin had been replaced with a golden tan. His hair was longer and as wild as ever, framing his scruffy and patchy beard. His chocolate brown eyes looked clearer than I had ever seen them and were filled with nervousness and anticipation.

Once Dr. Rosenberg was ready to start, she filled Dieter in on what she had discussed with me about his diagnosis. She then encouraged him to take the lead going forward and discuss the things he wanted to speak with me about. He rubbed his hands together nervously, briefly chewing on his bottom lip before he met my gaze to speak.

“So, you’re…ok with that diagnosis?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what he meant and gave him a confused look. “Like, it doesn’t freak you out or anything? I know it’s a lot to deal with.”

“Dieter, the diagnosis doesn’t change anything. You’re still you. Why would it bother me?”

“I dunno, I’m just afraid that at some point you’re gonna realize how big of a mess I am and run away from it all,” he said sheepishly.

I chuckled, leaning forward in the seat with a teasing smile, “I realized how big of a mess you were a long time ago.” He scratched at his chin as a smirk formed on his lips.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen the worst of it and I’m still here. My feelings for you haven’t changed. You don’t have to worry about that from me.”

His eyes turned glassy at my words as he pinched his brows together, looking downward at his hands in his lap.

“I don’t deserve you, not after the way I treated you…the things I said. I was such an asshole to you.”

I bit at my bottom lip, shaking my head before speaking, “None of that matters to me. I know you weren’t completely yourself when you said those things.”

“No, I wasn’t but I still knew what I was doing and saying. I apparently tend to self-sabotage things. Some of the things I said, using your past against you, I knew it would hurt you. I wanted the words to hurt so you would let me go. I knew you wouldn’t otherwise.”

“Why though? I don’t understand why you felt the need to end things to begin with. Why was I a burden to you?”

His eyes widened at my question, brows shooting upward as he shook his head from side to side, “No, no you weren’t the burden…I was. I’m sorry I made you think that. I know the night I called, I wasn’t making a lot of sense. I…I hadn’t slept in days, and I was such a fucking mess.”

He licked his bottom lip and chewed at it for a second before continuing, “I could see how you were having to completely change everything about your life to accommodate me and my work just for us to be together. I knew it was eventually gonna be a problem and cause you stress because it was affecting your job. I didn’t wanna ruin your life that way. You shouldn’t have to cater your life to mine, it’s not fair. I love you too much to do that to you.”

“Dieter, it wasn’t always gonna be like that. It just happened to be shitty circumstances caused by the remote location. If we hadn't been in the middle of nowhere, I could’ve worked without issue. We just weren’t prepared for the challenges that came up. This is a learning experience for both of us. We’ll know better for next time so I can plan accordingly…and it wasn’t like you weren’t making changes to meet me halfway.”

He couldn’t argue with that. He sighed as he leaned back in his seat, nodding in agreement.

“I know that now, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly…obviously. It all made sense at the time.” He rolled his eyes, frustrated with his behavior. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“It was more than that though, I knew I was spiraling out of control. I could fucking feel it happening and didn’t know how to make it stop. I didn’t wanna tell you what was going on because I didn’t want you to worry. I knew you would drop everything and fly back to Canada to be with me.”

“You’re damn right I would’ve… and I should’ve done that anyway.” I could feel my emotions catching up to me, my eyes filling with tears as I looked down away from him.

“I fucking knew it…in my gut that something was wrong, and I did nothing. If I had just done it…came up there anyway, this probably would’ve gone differently. I could’ve helped you through it, but no…I was a fucking coward. I gave up because I was selfish and wanted to protect myself. I didn’t even try because I was too afraid that I would end up in a dark place again if you didn’t want me to be there with you.”

The tears were streaking down my cheeks by this point. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I had so much anger for myself that it was making me feel sick. Dieter stood from his seat, closing the few feet between us, then got down on his knees on the floor in front of me. He moved to grab my hands in my lap, but hesitated. I reached up and grabbed his in response.

“I’m sorry I put you in the position to even have to think that. It should’ve never happened. I should’ve been communicating everything with you instead of pushing you away. This whole fucking mess is my fault…I wanted to reach out so many times after that… to try and fix it, but you seemed like you were doing ok so I didn’t want to upset you again.”

The tears were streaming down his face now as he took a minute to try and compose himself.

“I thought I could move on and just deal with things the way I used to…by numbing the pain. That’s when I started drinking heavily again. Then I saw you at the restaurant, and you looked so fucking amazing…and I was such a dick. I was so angry with myself for that. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had everything and fucked it up. My behavior after that night was reckless. There are days I can’t even remember because I was drinking so much. I just wanted to not think about it anymore.”

He pulled his hands away, looking down at the floor before wiping at his face. When he raised his head again, the pain in his eyes nearly made my heart stop. I reached out to cup his cheek, but he leaned away, seeming to need space.

“The night that video of you was posted online…several people sent it to me. I didn’t watch it at first because I didn’t think it would mean anything…but when I finally did…”

He put his hand over his mouth, letting out a quiet sob, before continuing.

“I could see how bad you were hurting…how bad I hurt you. What I did to you…I hated myself for it because you didn’t deserve that. It also reminded me of what I was missing out on because of how beautiful you sounded and looked…and that fucking song.”

He paused for a minute, shaking his head. He sniffled and wiped at his face again before continuing.

“I stayed up all night, watching it on a loop on the tv. I almost called you then, but stopped myself. I drank until I had nothing left instead. Then, when I ran into you the next morning, I could see how fucking broken you were. The way you looked at me…it fucking crushed me. I bought more alcohol and went back to the house. I don’t really remember much after that.”

He shook his head for a moment, pausing to take a few deep breaths, wiping at his face again.

“I don’t even remember calling you…and…even after everything I did, you still came to me. You could’ve easily told me to fuck off and I would’ve deserved it, but you didn’t. I know I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t. You saved my life…I feel like you’ve been doing that ever since New York. When I say you’re my light in the darkness, I fucking mean it.”

I started sobbing into my hands. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my hands around his neck as he moved to hug me. We sat there in an embrace for some time before I started mumbling into his shoulder.

“I was so afraid you were gonna hate me for giving up on you so easily. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. Just know that it had nothing to do with you…I clearly still need to work on my own shit.”

He hugged me a little tighter as he buried his fingers in the back of my hair, “That thought never crossed my mind. Don’t even worry about it anymore.”

He finally pulled back, wiping the tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs as he did so. We gave each other tight smiles as we locked eyes. He turned away, toward Dr. Rosenberg, who I had completely forgotten was in the room, and asked for some tissues. She picked up the box from her small table and handed it to him as he stood. He handed me several and took some for himself before handing the box back to her. She motioned for him to have a seat. As she turned to set the box back on the table, I noticed she was looking a little glassy eyed too.

We all sat in silence as her eyes shifted between us. Dieter and I glanced at each other, confusion on our faces as we looked back toward her. She chuckled before she spoke.

“I’m not even sure why I’m here. This is literally the first family session ever where I didn’t have to intervene or lead a conversation. You two don’t seem to have any problems communicating, so I’m not sure how you ended up where you were.”

We both smiled widely at her, surprised and appreciative of her honesty. Dieter spoke up with a chuckle.

“I think between my fucked up brain and the distance…it didn’t do us any favors. We’re always at our best when we’re physically together, I think. Everything goes to hell when we aren’t. Clearly that is something I need to work on.”

Dr. Rosenberg nodded in agreement, “Well, I hate to separate you two again, but we are running short on time, and I want to have a chat with Talia about the plans going forward. Dieter, I’m pretty sure you have another group session coming up so you better head that way. You think you can focus enough for this one?”

She raised an eyebrow in his direction as he laughed and nodded. He stood, quickly shuffling over to lean down and give me a hug before exiting the room.

Dr. Rosenberg wasted no time getting back to business, “Talia, part of his treatment is making sure he has the support he needs when he gets home. That’s why we offer support to caretakers as well, because technically, you will be his caretaker as the only other person in the household with him.”

I knitted my brows together, confused about where this conversation was going.

“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know you have a traumatic history because Dieter has mentioned a few things. I don’t know the details, and I get the sense he doesn’t know it all either. I feel like whatever happened with your ex-husband is still affecting you. Is the dark place you mentioned something that you would be willing to talk to me about? Anything you tell me about yourself is confidential, just so you know.”

I sighed heavily as I ran both hands over my face, “So you picked up on that, huh?” I laughed nervously under her gaze.

“You’re right, I haven’t told him everything. I keep telling myself I’ve moved past it, but after the last few months, I’ve realized that I just locked it away and pretended it didn’t exist. I tend to do that with a lot of things.” She gave me an encouraging smile, clearly picking up on my hesitation as I paused to gather my thoughts.

“So, the last few years of my marriage, I started drinking heavily after finding no way out of the hell I was living in. The constant mental and psychological abuse was wearing me down, especially after I realized what was happening. When I tried to talk to Justin about a divorce, he would just tell me there was no way out because he wasn’t ready to give me up.” I paused briefly… focusing on something outside through the window. “I uhh, came home early from work one day and found him with another woman that he worked with. He of course said it was my fault, because I wasn’t giving him what he needed in the marriage. I knew what he was doing…and I was determined not to let it go because I felt I had a legitimate reason to end things at that point. I TOLD him I was leaving. I was done asking. When I started packing a bag, he hit me. The first time ever. I mean, he had shoved me around some, but never hit me across the face like that. He told me there was no leaving… that he would just find me and bring me home. Said no one would believe me or help because all of OUR friends knew how I was.”

“Talia, what did saying that out loud just now make you feel?”

My eyes drifted over to meet hers, “I don’t really feel anything.”

She arched a brow, “That’s because you're dissociating. I want you to focus on me as you speak and feel what you’re saying.”

Fuck. She wasn’t going to let me cheat my way through this like my therapist did. I pinched my brows together as my eyes teared up again. I had to face this. I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling slowly. When I opened them and met her gaze, she nodded for me to continue.

“He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t really have anyone to turn to. He made sure of that. He left after our argument, said he was going out with the guys. I doubt that’s where he went though. As soon as he left, I started drinking. I remember…feeling lost and pretty fucking hopeless after that. I couldn’t believe he hit me, and I was scared it would happen again. I never saw myself as someone who lets their husband abuse them…I felt disgusted over it. I must have drank a lot…because I can’t remember the rest of that night. I - I woke up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. I guess when he came home, he found me passed out in my own vomit.”

I started tapping on the arm of the chair as the tightness in my chest returned. The tears trickled out again.

“When Justin finally came to see me, I told him that I was done. If he didn’t let me go, I was gonna find a way out…one way or another and I would make sure everyone knew it was his fault. Given that I had just put myself in the hospital, he took me at my word and agreed on a divorce. I guess he was afraid of what I would do.”

“What did you mean by that?”

I gave a half smile, “I honestly don’t know. I wonder that myself…what I was capable of. If I could’ve done anything.”

“What happened after you both agreed to the divorce?”

“Well, when I was still in the hospital, I reached out to one of my best friends that I grew up with, Lauren. We had kept in touch, even though I actively worked to put up a wall between us so she wouldn’t know what was really going on in my life because I was so embarrassed over it. She didn’t hesitate…she was at the hospital within the hour, and I told her everything. I stayed with her for a few weeks until I got my life sorted out. I don’t think I would have been able to do it without her. Of course, Justin continued to torment me by dragging out the divorce for over a year. It got pretty nasty.”

“What effects do you feel like that experience had on you?” She asked quietly.

“Experience.” I chuckled. “I didn’t realize twelve years of hell could be considered an experience.”

She gave me a sympathetic look before I continued, “I mean, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was. I was who he wanted me to be. After I left him, he was still in my head with everything I did. What I was wearing, how I fixed my hair and makeup, things I said. I couldn’t do some of the simplest things without hearing his voice telling me I was doing something wrong and having a fucking panic attack over it. I couldn’t make decisions…and yes, I would still drink to numb my feelings and calm myself down. Only this time, I knew exactly how much I could drink without taking it too far.”

“Are those things still an issue for you now?”

I shook my head, “No, I mean, I did all the cognitive behavioral therapy and the sessions. I eventually got to a point where the negative thoughts stopped. I think Dieter had a lot to do with that…he kind of helped me see myself in a different light…but I do still have anxiety sometimes and I think I’ve reverted back to ignoring my feelings… compartmentalizing everything and pretending it’s not there. Throwing myself into work and staying busy to keep my mind occupied. I’ve been doing that instead of drinking the feelings away.”

Dr. Rosenberg leaned forward, placing her elbow on her knee with a pensive look on her face.

“Talia…would you be willing to stay for the next three weeks to work through some of this with me? It would be outpatient treatment…a couple hours a day. You can stay in one of our apartments.”

I sucked in a quick breath. I certainly wasn’t expecting this, but at the same time, I almost felt relieved. My gut told me I needed it and I knew I couldn’t go on the way I had been because I was eventually going to self-destruct if I didn’t take better care of myself. I knew I couldn’t fully be there for Dieter if I was still battling with myself. I sat staring at my hands as I thought through the offer. I could still work remotely, so that wouldn’t be an issue. I raised my head to meet her eyes, “Will Dieter know what I’m doing?”

“Only if you want him to.”

“I don’t want to saddle him with my shit right now…I don’t wanna mess him up.”

“Honestly, I think he’s stable at this point. I think he could handle whatever you wanted to share with him. If you wanted, we could even do some more joint sessions, or he can just be there for support if you want him to be. It’s all up to you really.”

“What would you do?” I asked, letting out a stuttered breath with my question. She took a minute to consider her response, biting on the inside of her cheek as she did so.

“I don’t think it would be bad if you shared everything with him. The more open you are with one another, the better. Communication is going to be a huge factor in keeping your relationship healthy and happy. At least if he knows what’s going on he can support you, just like you support him. Also, if he needs help processing through things, we can help him with that while he’s here…but again, it’s your decision.”

“Yeah, I mean he knows most of it anyway…Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll stay and I want him involved.”

She gave me a bright smile, “I’m actually really happy to hear that. I think this will allow you to build a solid foundation going forward. I’m excited for your future together. I can tell that you both care deeply for each other and I really want your time here to be successful.”

I gave her thanks for the opportunity she was giving me. I’ve known for a while that I had things that I needed to work on but didn't really know where to start. The fact that Dieter seemed so at ease with her and was doing so well gave me some comfort and the courage to jump in head first.

The next three weeks were a whirlwind of educational sessions to help me learn about bipolar disorder; the triggers, coping strategies, and lifestyle changes to minimize stress. I even had an opportunity to learn more about Dieter’s medication and possible interactions and side effects so I would be able to spot them. He had asked that I be involved with his Interpersonal and Social Rhythm therapy, which was designed to help him build a daily routine of healthy habits to manage his moods. Given his job, sometimes a routine was almost impossible for him to keep, but we learned strategies to deal with that when confronted with it. It was all very helpful for the both of us.

I had my sessions too of course. He sometimes set in on them if we were doing something particularly hard that day. His presence helped keep me grounded and got me through a lot. He was taking time to learn about ways to help me cope better and we worked together on effective communication skills.

Dr. Rosenberg recommended that I start keeping a journal to help me work through my emotions. I was iffy about it at first, but Dieter was also doing it and he loved it. He was very encouraging about it. It was something that I had come to enjoy doing after a few days. We had even taken to having a shared journal between us to better communicate our feelings, which Dr. Rosenberg loved the idea of and encouraged.

Even though Dieter and I weren’t able to spend a whole lot of time together during those three weeks, I could always feel his presence and support. It’s what kept me going through it all. I don’t think I would have had the strength to do it without him. By the time my last day of treatment came around, he was given the all clear for discharge. It was both nerve wracking and exciting to know that we would be going home…together.

A/N: How excited are we that these two are finally back together? How badly did this chapter hit the feels? Did you cry? If you did, hopefully this will be the last time...unless you are a happy crier. There may be happy tears later. 😉 How are we feeling about Dieter's diagnosis? Does it change how you view some of his past behavior? What about that revelation from Talia? I mean, are we really surprised though; the girl has had a complicated relationship with alcohol throughout the whole story. How do you think things are going to go when they get back home? Do you think they will pick up where they left off or have some growing pains? We will find out in the next chapter. 😁 I am 100% failing at life and did not get the Deconstructing Dieter Bravo post done. I need to do a little fact checking and didn't have the brain power for it. However, once I get that ready, it will be posted HERE. The topic for Deconstructing Dieter Bravo Part 3 will be his diagnosis. I will tag all the usuals in the posts once it is ready. Hopefully you will find it to be educational. 💜 👉 I do want to share some details on upcoming projects that will be released for the holidays. I am participating in the @pedrostories Secret Santa event. I have received my gift prompt, and you may be excited to know that you will be getting a Dieter Bravo one shot from me by Christmas. I already have some ideas swirling around for it and it's not related to any current fics. It should be fun. Be sure to follow the #pedrostoriesgift23 hashtag to check out all the awesome work that will be included for the event. 👉 I will also be participating in the Pickled Peña event for the new year. I am going to try my hand at writing a little Javi P. for you. Follow @pickled-pena for updates and the hashtag #pickledpeña to see all madness (and I'm sure debauchery) that comes from this fun challenge. I also invite you all to join us! There is still time! It's going to be a blast! If you would like to be tagged on either of these one shots, let me know in the comments. 💜 As usual, I have included the chapter mood board below in case you missed it.😘

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maxsimagination · 3 months

Text

𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗜𝗜 - 𝗹.𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗽

warnings: fluff, christmas fic, talk of homophobia

a/n: i do not condone homophobia in any way, shape or form, this is just an imagine and is not reality

• part 1 • part 2

-----

three months after my coming out to lauren and i'd gathered up the courage to tell the whole team. they'd been more supportive then i ever could've imagined, lauren telling me a simple 'told you so.'

it was december now which meant winter break and returning to families and home countries for the holidays. all the girls were excitedly talking about their plans to see relatives, while i was sat in the corner, quiet.

my family had inadvertently gotten the confirmation they wanted, or not, when i posted a '23 photo dump on instagram. there was a multitude of photos from throughout the year, but one in particular showed me and lauren out at breakfast with some of the team.

we were sat next to each other and had somehow gotten our hands on a rainbow flag. alanna was sitting across from us and thought it was cute to take a photo.

my ma and my sister had messaged me almost immediately after the photos were posted. i expected the harsh words from my ma but my sister had tears welling in my eyes.

not to say the message from my ma didn't hurt, but it was the onslaught from my sister that sent me over the edge. that was roughly three weeks ago and i hadn't spoken to anyone in my family since.

"y/n are you good?" lauren sidled over to where i was sat on the beanbags we had in the city common room. she joined me and sat on the one next to me.

"mhm, i'm okay."

"you going back to australia for christmas?"

i knew someone would ask me about at one point or another, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

"no, i don't have any plans. just staying in the uk, i guess."

lauren knew something must have been up, because of how normally bubbly and sweet i was. but this me was different, depressed even.

"so your not going to see your family?"

"no i haven't spoke to them in almost a month."

"oh, shit. why?"

"they shunned me after they found out i was a lesbian."

that statement shocked lauren, she'd never thought that they'd ever go that far to reject me.

"did you want to come with me? spend christmas with my family instead?"

i was flattered by the offer and everything in me wanted to agree, wanted to go and have a nice christmas with her and her family. but i didn't want to be a bother.

"it's okay, i don't want to impose. thankyou for the offer though."

"nonsense, you've already met my family and they love you. i'm pretty sure my mother likes you more than me."

there wasn't much i could say to that, let alone to refuse the offer. so i gave in and agreed to come with her to see her family for christmas. we had one last training session of the year before we were off the hook until next year.

when the time to fly down to north walsham came, i was a bundle of nerves. lauren took my hand and gave me a soothing smile, assuring me i was not a burden and it would be a pleasure to have me over. i blushed at her comforting words, butterflies erupting in my stomach.

the flight wasn't too long, only a couple of hours.

once we arrived, lauren's sister amy was there to greet us. we hugged and she led us towards her car to drive us back to their house.

"lauren sit in the back, i'm talking to y/n."

amy left lauren to hop into the back seat with a cheeky grin, lauren feigning hurt but hopping in anyway. i chuckled at the sisters' antics and climbed in the front.

we finally got to their house after a laughter-filled drive there. both kevin and julie were outside, waiting to greet us when we pulled in.

"it's so great to see you again, y/n! come in so we can catch up."

kevin was less chatty but happy to have me nonetheless, giving me a hug and pat on the back. we all traipsed inside, me and lauren putting our bags in lauren's room.

we spent some time just settling in and catching up, before lauren pointed out that there was a christmas market on in the town and we should go. i thought that was a great idea, agreeing to go down with lauren. julie and kevin said they'd stay back to cook dinner for everyone and amy also declined as she had something else to do.

it was just me and lauren that were going but i was happy with that. the two of us walked down since it wasn't that far from the house. there was fairy lights strung up all along the streets and the stalls selling various things scattered down the roads. it was so pretty i took a picture to upload to my story.

as we walked down the markets i was looking around in awe, we didn't have much like this on the town where i was from. occasionally mine and lauren's hands brushed up against each other, our pinkies intertwining.

i felt the butterflies in my stomach again and looked over to lauren to see her glancing down at our hands.

since coming out to her she'd been more openly affectionate. it was like some part of her had to be touching me, whether it was a hug or just resting her arm around my waist, she was never that far away.

i wasn't complaining, i couldn't deny that i felt something there for the blonde englishwoman but i was just to nervy to say anything.

however i was considering just asking her, telling her how i felt. the setting of the markets made it feel so romantic, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. so i waited a little, until we were stood under a piece of mistletoe while buying sugar cookies.

"loz, look up."

i spoke to her softly. she looked above us and spotted the piece of greenery. looking back at me, she grinned.

"do you want to? we don't have to."

"no i want to."

and with that she leaned forward to connect our lips in a slow kiss.

it was way better than anything i've ever felt before. her lips were soft and sweet, moving against mine. we pulled apart slightly breathless and rosy-cheeked.

"does this mean you can be my girlfriend?"

"yes lauren, i can be your girlfriend."

i laughed slightly at her way of asking but agreed nonetheless, it was a long time coming.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #lauren hemp #lauren hemp x reader #lauren hemp imagine

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dorkszn · 2 months

Text

— letting you do their hair

— thomas j, alexander h, and phillip h x gn reader, john laurens x masc reader

+ black coded reader for thomas and john! modern-ish au!

PHILLIP H !

✩ he loves letting you do this hair. sometimes you don’t even have to ask, he’ll ask you.

✩ he only trust you and his parents to wash it and take care of it

✩ you style it a lot for him and eliza loves it

✩ tender headed as fuck

✩ if someone flirts with him in public, especially if they bring up his hair, he’ll just go on and on about you

✩ “oh my hair? yeah it’s nice, ain’t it? my (s/o) did it. Aren’t they so skilled?”

✩ you teach him how to braid his hair and style it the way you do so he can do them himself if there’s a time you’re not around

☆ watching your favorite shows 🤝 washing and drying his hair

THOMAS J !

☆ he is so protective of his hair. like he’s the only one allowed to touch it

☆ so obviously it took you a lot of begging and convincing but he eventually gave in

☆ he’ll make snarky comments and act like a baby when you first wash his hair or attempt to style it but a little pop with the comb gets him to shut up

☆ he almost fell asleep the first time you braided his hair, but he likes to pretend it never happened

☆ so embarrassed to ask you to wash his hair and you can’t help but tease him for it

☆ after a while, he had you braiding his hair once a week for an extra curl

☆ you guys have matching bonnets

☆ he will literally call James mid hair session and just start talking about the government with him

☆ he was very skeptical about your products but eventually they become the only thing he uses

ALEXANDER H !

☆ he was genuinely surprised when you asked him to do his hair

☆ he hadn’t had anyone to do it or take care of it for years, especially since his mother passed

☆ “you’d do that for me?” he’d question, genuine shock on his face

☆ and it takes all of both of you to not start crying when you do take care of his hair

☆ the first time you washed it for him was the most relaxed you’d ever seen him

☆ it was the most loved he’d felt for a while

☆ then there were times were you just played in his hair

☆ whether we was working or just watching tv, you were putting silly little styles in his hair. and it he loves it. he thinks it’s adorable.

☆ some mornings, he ask you to put his hair up for him or slick it back for him just so he can have the best start to his day

☆ his hair was very first thing he asked you to do when he came back from war

☆ scalp massages >>>

☆ they’re one of the only things that convince him to leave his office, just for a little bit

JOHN L !

☆ after he meets you, he refuses to do his hair unless you’re away on a trip

☆ he whines and pleads, making an excuses on “how you do so much better” and “how loved it makes him feel” while giving you kisses

☆ but if you’re truly tired, of course he’ll give you a break

☆ you came home once and found him wearing your bonnet/durag

☆ you also do most of his haircuts

☆ he doesn’t mind his hair growing out but he knows it’s getting too long when you start beating him while play fighting

☆ to him if you’re winning, his hair is messing with his vision and it’s a “handicap”

☆ definitely gets popped with the comb everytime you do his hair

“john, could you turn your head just a little bit?” you question, your frustration already growing. he couldn’t help but tease you constantly, it was in his nature. he slightly turns his head with a small smirk on his face, knowing he was pissing you off.

“john, don’t play with me right no—“ you cut off your words when john grabs you by the waist and pulls you in and onto his lap. his hand gripping the outside of your thigh to support you as you straddle his legs.

“this angle good enough for you?” he asks, giving you his typically stupid grin. you can’t help but softly smile as you look at him, your previous anger from before leaving.

“t’s fine, i guess.” you shrug before going back to attempting to cut his hair.

“see? why let anyone else do my hair when i can have you do it for free and get a lap dance at the same time?” he says nonchalantly, continuing to scroll on his phone. his free hand caress your thigh and slithering back to ass.

“john, i swear you’re going to wake up bald one day.”

#dorkszn #dorkfilmz #hamilton musical #phillip hamilton x reader #hamilton drabble #hamilton fanfic #hamilton x reader #alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson fic #alexander hamilton x reader #john laurens x reader #john laurens #hamilton fluff #hamilton angst #hamilton an american musical

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storiesofsvu · 3 months

Text

Solace in Solitude Ch 12

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, alcohol, canon typical conversation, smut. This ch feels a little it jumpy, partially because it is, partially because of how it needed to be. Each of the breaks represent a time jump, just little pieces of our girls lives while they figure out how to go about it. Two to three chapters left until this series is finally done with!

“Fuck…” Emily muttered with a small huff, flipping the cover to her iPad closed before she gently tossed it onto the coffee table.

“You good?” You asked, glancing between the television and her.

“Yeah, just lost another round of scrabble.”

“Cheeto breath’s the blonde, right?” You asked, redirecting your attention towards her as you picked up your glass of wine.

“JJ.. yeah..” Emily’s eyes drifted out the window for a moment, reminiscing about her memories with Jayje over the years.

“I take it you two were good friends?”

“Yeah.” She cast you a small smile.

“You know… you are allowed to talk about them.”

“I know.” Emily sighed softly, picking up her own drink, “it just almost feels surreal now. Like that part of my life was some kind of fever dream, the years between Doyle were reality but the way things worked out it almost seems like the fake memories were it, not the time with him.”

“Did you go straight from that undercover gig to your team?” You asked your brow furrowing.

“Basically.” She laughed, the grin staying on her face, “a few months to recuperate, make sure all the loose ends were tied.”

“How does that work on a resume? I mean, you can’t exactly put an entire fake identity on there.”

Emily laughed again, taking a bigger swig of her drink while she mulled over the entire topic, “the bureau and international teams have their way of covering things up. It wasn’t really me who did all that, it was Lauren, so Emily Prentiss came off a desk job, well recommended to the BAU.”

“And they believed that?” You raised a brow in her direction. It didn’t take a federal agent to notice the way Emily behaved, the little things she picked up on that made her seem like someone with extensive experience.

“Everyone had their walls up, they weren’t ready for a replacement on the team yet, it wasn’t exactly welcoming. Not to mention Hotch seemed to have it in for me, thinking my mother had swindled the job for me.”

“Hmm.” You replied over the rim of your wine glass, “it didn’t stay like that though?”

“No.” She smiled softly, “they became family. I spent more time with them than anyone else in my life, we all did, even outside of work. If I wanted to have a girls night I knew JJ and Penelope would always say yes, Derek was never going to decline a visit to the gym or shooting range, Rossi was always dying to teach someone his latest recipe…..” She trailed off, her eyes slowly misting with tears as she thought about how likely it was that all of that continued despite her absence, how they were all coping with her death, with their grief while she tried to figure out her own on the opposite side of the world with only one person by her side. “We were all a better family to each other than our own ever could have been.”

“They sound amazing.” Your hand reached out, squeezing at her elbow and she cast you a grin.

“They are.”

“So aside from being a total bad ass federal agent chasing down serial killers, what is it exactly that your unit does?”

“Behavioural Analysis, it’s more psychology based, figuring out trends, triggers, history, patterns, geographical locations,” she waved her hand with each statement, “putting it all together to figure out who our unsub is.”

“That’s honestly really neat. I kinda wish hospitals had people on staff to help with that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah.” She laughed, “me too.”

***

Thick flakes of snow were drifting down through the air, coating the city in a fluffy white blanket, which meant going nowhere. Emily crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a huff as she looked out the balcony window. The temperature had been decreasing daily and she was getting pent up, cabin fever increasing and had been hoping to get out of the house this weekend.

“You okay?” You asked from your spot in the kitchen, packing up leftovers to toss in the fridge before pouring out a couple fresh glasses of wine.

“I’m bored.” She practically whined, turning around to face you, “if I have to watch another episode of The Bachelor I will blow my brains out.”

“Okay…” you laughed, picking up the wine to move back into the living room, handing her her glass. “You have anything else in mind? New show, game?”

She chewed on her lip, eyes darting around the room while she tried to find something to entertain her and you knew you were in trouble when they shot back up to you with that dangerous glimmer in them. “How about poker?”

“We’ve played every night this week, you think that’s gonna cure this?” You asked, grabbing the deck of cards from behind you before you settled on the couch.

“How about we up the stakes?”

“What? Play for real money?” You asked with a laugh, nearly gulping at the look she gave you in return.

“Or… we could make it strip poker?” She offered with a wild grin and you couldn’t help but roll you eyes.

“Fine.” You started to deal the cards out, “but you better take it easy on me, we all know you’re the poker champ.”

Emily in fact, did not take it easy on you.

It didn’t help that the cold bothered her more, her body aching at the temperatures meant she was bundled up, thick socks, leggings, tank top, thin pullover, hoodie. You preferred cool temperatures, meaning you were already down to just a pair of lace panties while she still had pants and a bra on.

“This is not fair.” You grumbled, letting out a little shiver as you crossed your arms over your chest and she laughed, draining the last of her drink. “You were wearing so many more clothes than me.”

“Sounds like someone’s a poor loser.” She chuckled, the cards in her hand finding home on the coffee table as she shifted toward you on the couch, “but I’m pretty sure I can make it up to you…”

You let out a small laugh as she caged you into the couch, your back hitting the arm in the same moment her lips hit your neck and you were suddenly out of complaints. Her hands toyed with your chest, groping and pinching at you, her lips smirking up into a grin as your hips rutted up against hers. It only took a few moments before her hand was sneaking into your panties, gently rubbing at your clit.

“Fuck…” You muttered, your head dropping back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut as her mouth wrapped around your nipple.

Your moans became louder when her fingers slipped into your pussy, twisting and curling just where you needed them. Emily’s breath hot on your neck, her teeth scraping against your skin as you fluttered around her, whimpers leaving your lips as she toyed with you, getting louder and louder until you hit your peak and losing a poker game was the furthest thing from your mind.

***

Emily let the apartment door swing shut behind her, flicking the lock before dropping the bag of groceries on the counter. After hanging up her coat and kicking off her boots her eyes finally swept through the living room, her head tilting when her gaze landed on you. You were perched in your usual corner of the couch, fuzzy blanket over your lap, mug of coffee in your hand but instead of staring at the television, your gaze as focussed on the corner of the room. She watched you for a couple of minutes, wondering if you were just zoned out, off on some tangent of medical language in your brain but you didn’t even blink to notice that she’d even come home.

“Okay you’re freaking me out. This is like when your cat is staring at the wall and the only explanation is a ghost.”

“Should we get a tree?” Your head titled to the side but your gaze remained in the corner.

“Uh… what?” She asked, laughing awkwardly and you finally looked over to her.

“For Christmas.” You explained, eyes sweeping through the living room, “every where’s all decorated, lights, garland, trees, I could do without the Christmas music at the hospital constantly but it’s a little drab in here, don’t ya think?”

“And you want a tree?”

“Not a real one,” your nose scrunched, “too much work, and it doesn’t have to be a big one, a mini one, just some lights to make it a little festive in here.”

Emily crossed through the living room, dropping down onto the other side of the couch as she looked through the apartment, “you’re right. We should decorate, even just a little, make it feel more homey in here.”

“Yeah?” You looked up at her and she couldn’t help but smile at the excitement in your eyes.

“Yeah.” She squeezed at your leg through the blanket, “we watch enough tv as is, we could be marathoning Christmas movies. I picked up hot chocolate,” she nodded toward the grocery bag.

“Now that, sounds like a festive night.”

“After decorating though.” She grinned and you raised a brow, “there’s so many little celebrations going on out there.” She gestured toward the window, “I walked past two separate Christmas markets today, we should go check them out, pick up some stuff for the apartment, maybe some treats.”

“You wanna go now?”

“Well I was gonna make baked ziti for dinner, but that could wait cause I have a feeling you really love Christmas.”

“Yeah…” you nearly winced with a small smile on your face and Emily laughed.

“Well c’mon.”

Five hours later the two of you were curled up under the same blanket on the couch while The Holiday played on the television. Empty pasta plates sat on the coffee table and mugs of steaming hot chocolate spiked with Baileys were cupped in your hands. Multi coloured lights from the tree and the tops of the wall cast a warm glow throughout the apartment, the smell of gingerbread wafting from a candle burning on the kitchen island.

“You were right.” Emily mumbled “this is much better. I guess I forgot how just how nice actually embracing the holidays can feel.”

“Oh really?” You glanced up at her with a small grin and she raised a brow in your direction.

“What?”

“I’m just saying, I saw an ad for a really cool looking ice sculpture festival next weekend.”

She laughed, nudging your shoulder with hers as she shook her head at you, “alright, fine. It’s not like I have much else to do anyways.”

“Exactly.” You settled back into the couch with a satisfied sigh, “though we need to get some presents for under the tree.”

***

“If you don’t hurry up, you’re gonna miss the countdown!” Emily shouted over her shoulder, puling her sweater tighter over her shoulders, her eyes sweeping through the stars sparkling in the night sky. A dreamy look on her face, no doubt partially thanks to the bubbly the two of you had been drinking since dinner.

“I know, I know!” You scoffed back, hurrying back onto the balcony and handing her a flute, “but you absolutely cannot start a new year without champagne, and this is legit champagne.”

“Classy.” She replied with a laugh when she took the glass from you.

The streets below you were filled with laughter, cheers and the general sound of celebration as midnight ticked closer and closer. You shivered and Emily tugged you closer to her, her arm linking into yours as smiles broke out on both of your cheeks while you joined in on the countdown echoing from the street below. The clock hit twelve and choruses of ‘Happy New Year’ and cheers bounced through the air as the two of you clinked your glasses together and took a swig of your drinks fireworks exploding in the sky above you.

“What?” You asked when Emily swiped your glass, putting it along with hers down on the small table.

“C’mere.” She tugged you to her, “you can’t not have a new year’s kiss.”

Her arm wound around your waist, lips meeting yours tenderly, moving with grace against each other as your arms wrapped around her shoulders. Her tongue slipped into your mouth and you let out a happy sigh into the kiss.

“You know, you’re really good at this.” She murmured, lips curving into a grin and you chuckled.

“I’m good at a lot of other things too.” The smirk on your lips pulled a laugh from Emily.

“I like this.” She replied, stepping backwards and you let out a squeal when she pulled you down onto the couch behind her, your legs settling around her hips as she adjusted you on her lap, her lips meeting yours once again.

The kiss was full of little laughs, happy breaths, satisfied sighs as you held each other tighter to combat the chilliness of the now January night air. You could only hope that if this was how you were starting the year off that it would end up being a better one overall than the last.

***

Emily was in the kitchen scrounging up what she could for dinner out of leftovers when you finally emerged from your bedroom. You glanced up to her with a happy smile,

“I take it the meeting went well?” She asked.

“Yeah. The hospital wants to fly me out for a couple of consults on Tuesday.”

“That’s amazing!”

“You’re good then..” your brow scrunched, “like… if I take off for a few days? It feels weird to leave you… unsupervised, for lack of a better word.”

Emily barked out a laugh, “I’ll be fine, I’m sure I can handle a few days on my own. You go save some lives.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged, “you’ve cleared me, the shrink has my med load decreased, I was cleared at the beginning of the month by PT to up my workouts. Hate to break it to ya, but you’ve been downgraded from babysitter to roommate at this point.”

“Okay, okay.” You laughed, sliding onto a stool at the island.

“I’m guessing this is the same research you’ve been working on?”

“Yeah, finally found the right place with the right fit and resources.”

“So you’re moving then?”

“God no, I don’t even know if there’s an actual job available. They might just want my research, might offer me a grant to keep working here, fly me in when needed. I could probably do ninety percent of it over Skype, it’s all about collaboration at this stage.”

“Well whatever happens I hope it’s good.”

“Me too.”

While Emily did actually enjoy her solo time in the apartment, she found it feeling just a little strange. Knowing that you weren’t coming home those nights, that noise out in the hallway were just the neighbours making their way to their own apartments. That she wasn’t waiting for you before starting dinner, she could eat whenever she wanted and that there was no one to start the coffee for her in the morning. Your absence was felt, even if you were still keeping in touch over text the three days you were gone.

It was barely noon and there was already a sense of urgency shooting through the apartment as you practically jumped out of your bedroom into the living room.

“Em!?”

It wasn’t even a second later that she came barrelling out of her room, duffle over her shoulder, still open so she could grab her phone charger and tablet from the kitchen island to shove into it.

“I, uh.. I think I need to go.”

“What?” You asked and she stalled suddenly,

“The guardian I had for Declan, he just called me. Declan tried to call him, there’s something going on, I need to get back stateside.” She took a deep breath, feeling the jitters in her chest starting as her pulse started to race, “oh god…” She suddenly dropped to a squat, her elbows on her knees so she could bury her face in her hands, “I really didn’t think this was gonna happen so quick.”

“Em…” you stepped toward her, a hand resting on her shoulder, squeezing softly and she was able to take another deep breath, calming her racing heart enough to bring herself up to standing and you could see the misting in her eyes.

“I… I know you’re not my therapist or anything, but you have honestly been the closest person since we got here, and I… I don’t know if I’m ready to go back.”

“If Declan needs you…”

“What if this is some kind of trap? What if Ian got to Tom, and this is just a fucking set up?” She ran a hand over her face, turning back to you, “sorry, I’m freaking out. You were gonna say something when I first came out.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “you don’t have to worry about Ian. Your team has him.”

“What?” Her eyes widened and you gestured to your phone in your hand.

“Hotch called; they want you back to help break him.” Reaching out you squeezed at her wrist, “you’re ready. They need you, the real you... you get to be yourself again.”

Emily couldn't help the warmth flowing through her at the thought of that, at getting to return to her real life after all this time. “And you what, keep playing pretend here?”

“No.” You laughed, “actually right before Hotch called, St Thomas’ called…there was a job and they just offered it to me. I move to London at the end of the month.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing.” A smile burst out on her face and she pulled you into a tight hug until you were nudging her away.

“You need to go.” You practically laughed, “there’s a jet waiting for you, a car will pick you up on the other end.”

“Fuck, right.” She quickly zipped up her bag, double checking that she had everything she needed.

“Text me if you’re missing anything crucial and I’ll ship it out.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” She paused, looking up at you with genuine gratitude written across her face, “and I mean that, both literally and figuratively. Thank you, for everything.” Stepping toward you she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, placing a kiss on your cheek before she stepped away.

“Yeah well, you can pay it back to me by not ruining all my hard work in your first day back in the field, okay?”

“Absolutely.”

“Stay safe.” You warned her and she cast a smile back to you while she opened the door.

“I will. And don’t be a stranger.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

_________________

@momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @lesbodietcoke @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak xnovak

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #solace in solitude #emily prentiss series

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davidtennantgenderenvy · 5 months

Text

sooo Wild Blue Yonder huh

Breaking news the doctor having gay thoughts I repeat the doctor having gay thoughts

I can’t even tell if the special effects were good or bad they were just CURSED in the best way

david Tennant continuing to do absolutely insane things with his limbs (the part where he crawls on all fours sped up was some exorcist level stuff)

oooh this episode had a bit of a rocky start but once it picked up SUCH great who, mysterious and mindboggling and dark and insanely suspenseful I was on the edge of my seat, harkened back to the feeling of some of my favorite episodes like Satan pit and silence in the library

such GREAT character study too the “humans can believe two completely contradictory things at the exact same time” bit was so good

David and Catherine kill it as creepy uncanny valley versions of themselves

Ugh PROPER tragic time lord content in this episode the sheer anguish radiating from David’s eyes

DAVID TENNANT LOSING IT SCENE

i literally thought I was about to watch Donna Noble my childhood hero get killed off before my very eyes I actually think I would have sobbed I have never been so relieved in my life

the way I screamed “TALK TO HER” during their final scene in the Tardis. Need them to have a proper heart to heart sometime in the last episode or I will be salty

“Are you okay” “I will be” “when” “a million years” Lauren found dead in a ditch

I apologize to everyone on my floor who almost definitely heard me scream when Wilf showed up

I have never been so nervous for an episode in my life as I am for the giggle

PS: if Russell makes David’s regeneration sad AGAIN I will hunt him down and kill him

#doctor who #dw 60th #wild blue yonder #David tennant #catherine tate #doctor who spoilers #the fourteenth doctor #donna noble #wilfred mott

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panlight · 4 months

Note

you mentioned the saga has too many side characters for a love story. In your opinion - who could be removed, without having their disappearance effecting the overall story? Personally i feel like Esme and Emmett could be taken out and there wouldn't be so much that'd change. But i never really thought about others. I guess the movies did well with removing Lauren and Ben.

My dilemma is that I LOVE all the side characters. By and large I find them more interesting than the mains. BUT because Twilight is, after all, a romance . . . there's just not a lot of 'room' for the side characters. Which is probably why I find them interesting! Because we get just enough information about them that I want to know more, but also leaves plenty of room for headcanons and personal interpretations.

But since romances are always about the central couple, there's just really no need for so MANY characters in this series. The movies were smart to combine some of the human high school characters to get the numbers down there, but since most of the other characters don't have any arcs or storylines of their own, they could have been cut or combined too. Does the wolfpack 'need' Paul AND Jared? Do Brady and Collin do anything? Do we really 'need' three Volturi leaders and all those guards? Do we 'need' all those visiting vampires in covens of 3-4, or could we have had more solo vamps or just pairs?

And yes, with the Cullens, it's absolutely Esme and Emmett. And I love them! They're some of my favorites! But in terms of the plot you just don't need them. You need Carlisle as the creator of Edward and for all the times the plot calls for a doctor. You need Alice as the facilitator of the romance and the quirky friend you often see in romances. Plus, her power plays a large role in the plot. Jasper has the New Moon attack and the history with newborns which becomes relevant in Eclipse. And Rosalie becomes important in Breaking Dawn, and she had a fun slightly antagonistic vibe. But you could cut out Emmett and Esme and the plot would not meaningfully change. In fact, in some way, it might improve.

For example I never really got why Edward was so hopeless about ever finding love when he has examples in his own family/coven of it taking a long, long time to find a partner. It took Jasper almost 100 years. It took Carlisle about 250. Rosalie and Emmett were outliers! Edward being all "forever alone" after 90 years as a vampire always felt a little off, like, there's still time. He's roughly at the age Jasper was when he met Alice. But if Carlisle and Rosalie were also still single, that makes Edward's hopelessness make a bit more sense. Like "if Carlisle the Amazing has not found a partner in 350 years what hope do I have?" or whatever.

Or you could try to combine characters. A Jasper/Emmett hybrid miiiiiight work. Emmett's backstory never matters, but you would have to sacrifice some elements of each of their personalities. I don't think making Rosalie Carlisle's wife/Edward's mother would work at all though. Feels wrong just to put it into words. Would combining Alice and Esme, making her Carlisle's wife/Edward's mother, and then having Rosalie with the Jasper/Emmett hybrid be better? Ugh, no, still doesn't work.

I think they all gotta be single, with Alice/Jasper the only couple. And then, yeah, the Edward/Bella thing would feel more miraculous. It was always funny to me it was like "oh no! the love between a human and vampire is forbidden and/or never works out well!" when literally in Edward's own family there were two couples who met when one was still human. I mean admittedly Emmett was minutes from death but still, technically, Rosalie and Carlisle both ended up with humans they 'saved.' Then there's Benjamin going back for Tia; Aro choosing human Sulpicia, like, it's not that usual. But you erase the R/Em and C/Es couples and then, sure, Ed/B seems more rare and impossible.

Ultimately, though, rather than cut characters I'd rather expand to the story to be more of an ensemble fantasy adventure WITH a romance rather than a romance that dips in and out of fantasy adventure. You can have a central character, and even a central romance, and still develop side characters and let them have their own arcs. Jasper could have actually had an arc about overcoming his thirst instead of just sulking about how Bella is so good at it. Carlisle could have had something about actually convincing some vampires to become vegetarian. Alice discovering her human origins could have had more of a meaningful effect on her characterization rather than just being something she infodumps on Bella as a fun bit of trivia. Esme and Emmett could have had plot-relevant reasons to exist rather than Rosalie and Carlisle just needing partners. And Ed/B's romance could still have been the centerpiece.

#asks

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ouiouibaguettt · 1 year

Text

Bluey and Red

Leah Williamson x Lola Hernandez (oc!)

@carinaswife hope that you like

warnings: no one

words: 1k

Masterlist here, leave request if you want

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Lola’s POV:

"I'm sorry" I managed to get out between sobs into Sam and Guro's arms. "I shouldn't have missed, I should have passed to one of you" I repeated.

We had lost to FC Barcelona at the Camp Nou in the second leg of the Champions Leagues semi-finals. We only needed one goal to equalize. A goal to still believe but I wasted the opportunity. I had the chance to shoot or pass but I missed.

"We don't blame you, you know that, even great players miss shots like yours, the only thing now is to work on them more and not give up, you're an exceptional player Lola, whether it's us or your nationale team, we're very lucky to have you" Guro said to me as he helped me to my feet and accompanied me towards the tunnel.

"Hernandez!" coming from an unknown voice behind. "Yes?", "Congratulations even if you didn't win you can be proud of the team, you can be proud of yourself really you were an incredible opponent" says the only Alexia Putellas. "Thank you, congratulations to you for the victory, and I hope you'll be back on the pitch soon" I said feeling sympathy for her, it had been 10 months since she had set foot on a pitch and I have the same at home.

"Do you want to swap shirts?" she asked. "Yeah sure" I said excitedly even though I was still bitter about the loss but who wouldn't dream of swapping shirts with Alexia Putellas. "Don't worry about your shot, I miss shots like that too, but if you believe in yourself and your body, you'll put them all in" she said, handing me her shirt. "Thank you, that means a lot coming from you" I said, handing her mine in return. "No problem" she smiled at me.

I made my way back to the dressing room with Alexia's shirt in my hands and immediately went to sit in my seat waiting for Emma's speech. When she had finished, I pulled out my phone to see a photo that Leah's mother had sent me.

Mamanda 🤍 The picture was Leah in my Chelsea shirt watching the game on our sofa. Amanda also said to me 'She's waiting for you at home for comfort. You'll come back better. x Amanda'

That message alone makes me feel good, and seeing Leah in a Chelsea shirt is amazing but seeing her in mine is even better, it almost makes me feel better. Speaking of her, she just sent me a message.

My red ❤️ 'I know you're disappointed in the game, and in yourself, but don't be, you led the team all the way, you were amazing in that semi-final, bluey. Know that I love you and I'm waiting for you at home, go home safe. x your red.'

The fact that even thousands of miles away she manages to give me back my confidence means a lot to me coming from her.

My red ❤️ 'I've just landed I can't wait to get you home. x your bluey.'

Putting my phone away in my pocket as I saw my suitcase arrive, I headed to pick it up and leave to join Lauren and her brother on their way home.

The drive from the airport to the house was long and quiet. Once I arrived I thanked the James brothers/sisters for the ride, and walked towards the front door which was open with Leah resting against the door frame, she was waving goodbye to Lauren when I reached her and I let go of my suitcase and hugged her.

"I missed you so much red, and I love you too" I said as I replied to her message from the night before. "I missed you too bluey. Come on let's go home before we catch a cold" she says guiding me to the bedroom so I can put my suitcase down and we can go sit on the couch and cuddle.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?" she said, resting her head on my chest and looking into my eyes. "I know red" I tell her. "So stop pulling your head up, you were the best player in the game, you missed your shot? So what? It's not a shot that's going to destroy your career" she says. "But I destroyed our hope of going to the final..." I said, breaking the eye contact. "No, it wasn't YOU who broke it, it was the whole team, do you hear me? So right now our plan is to rest, enjoy our time together and you're going to go and win your last few games even against Arsenal right?" she commanded me. "Yes I hear you captain" I said with a little smile.

Leah comforted me as best she could that night, so I had to return the favor. That's why I found myself in the Arsenal Stadium, wearing Leah's shirt, cheering for the Guners.

At the final whistle I managed to get down to comfort Leah, I knew that games like this were close to her heart, and I couldn't help but feel bad for her as she was injured just before the semi-final games.

"I'm sorry red, you should be proud of yourself and the girls, really, you were a great team all the way" I said. "Thank you bluey, I love you." she said with tears forming in her eyes. "I love you too, come on don't cry you'll come back much stronger, Chelsea have a lot to worry about next year" I tried to make her smile, which worked. "I'll wait for you at the car okay?" I said. "Okay, I'll be right there" she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek before joining her team in the locker room.

Once we got back from the stadium, we curled up in bed, exhausted from the crazy game we had seen. "Good night bluey" she said to me. "Good night red" I said, closing my eyes.

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I'm devastated that Arsenal lost tonight, they had a crazy season in the champions league despite the injuries, they deserved to go to the final, but congratulations to wolfsburg 😕

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamon #arsenalwfc #arsenalwfc x reader #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso x oc #woso #women champions league #champions league #chelsea fcw

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dayslynthesix · 9 months

Text

Charles Leclerc x Button!Reader

(this one is just a little content just because i love summer break and i think i failed a little bit to show just how much lis and charlie are in love in the social!au)

Sicily, Italy.

The warming heat of the sun was everywhere. The towels were warming, the floor of the Azzura (the boat) was warming, and the breeze of the Mediterranean sea was also warming. The summer break started less the 48 hours ago and Lis and Charlie were already on board.

Lis has bought that boat last summer, it was the most terrifying thing she could ever do, at least, thats what her dad has told her, but every weekend she was driving around at 320kmh, so driving a boat was supposed to be easy. But Lis wasn't driving the boat, Charles was. Not at that moment, because tuesday middle morning he was laying down side by side with his girlfriend while she was reading one of her books - Normal People, by Sally Rooney was the chosen one for the trip.

They were together for almost two years, they keep it private and low, only his closest friends and her closest friends (Gia, Catherine and Lauren*) knew about it, and they were fine with that. Until, one day, a rumor was spread around the paddock, and everyone started to pay attention on them.

"Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc is allegedly dating RedBull driver and Jenson Button's daughter, Elise Button."

But for him, Elise Button was just Lis, or Fleur de Lis, his girl, his partner, his other half, the only person who fully understand him.

Last summer they spent hidden in some Italy village, Moscazzano was the one, Lis' mom had a summer house there, and once she was a kid she was always there with her family. That summer Charles felt so much love by her family that his heart was overwhelmed with it. He never had the chance or the opportunity to meet Jenson properly, but those 3 weeks he spent there he learned from where most part of Lis personality came from; she was charming, had that amazing sense of humor, smile pretty easily once she feels comfortable, she likes to swim, to lay on the sun, to play volleybal with her friends, to watch Grey's Anatomy and House with her mom and to go take a walk with her dad every sunset.

This summer they spent most of it swimming in the blue sea, while Lis was making them friendship bracelets for the concert they were supposed to go, or writing some poem Charles would never be allowed to read or just laying side by side, holding hands and talking about everything and anything all at once.

Charles and Lis relationship was easy, they could talk or stay at silence, they could talk for hours or just check how each other was, they could just exist into each other space, Lis was as much part to Charles life as he was to her. They knew each other so deep that no one knew how they didn't ended up together sooner.

"Every time i read that Connell wasn't religious but he thought that God made Marianne for him something clicks inside of me." Lis started to say as she closed the now finished book, Charles just hummed to let her know that he was awake, and listening to her "Because I'm not very religious too, but God, life, the universe put you in my life and I think that was genuinely made for me. I love how our life is simple, and how easy it is to be with you, even though we're weren't supposed to be together."

"I think the fact that we drive for rival teams makes things even better, what do you say? We're enemies to lovers?"

"More like rivals to lovers, but just between us, I would let you win just to see you happy." Lis had that, she was just pure empathy, it didn't look like because she was a woman into a mans sport, but she cared, and she would do anything to make Charles happy, including letting him win in Monza, including let him drive her around, including telling him how much she loves him.

"That's not very RedBull of you, honey." he joked

"It's because deep down I'm sort of a Mercedes driver because of my dad." she was laughing freely.

And summer just freeze. In that moment summer felt eternal. Just Elise and Charles, laying on the sun, listening to each other, talking nonsense around the Mediterranean, joking about how Charles wasn't familiar with the sunscreen technology. They just disappeared on those 4 weeks. They went for morning swims, early breakfast, stopping in those small Italian villages, eating pasta and holding each other. They weren't thinking about the championship, fast cars, Ferrari or RedBull. It was just them.

Charles and Elise, enjoying the sweet company of each other.

And going to Taylor Swift concerts.

elisebutton

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, cbishop11*, scuderiaferrari and 765.154 others

elisebutton there are pieces of us booth under of every city light, thank you italy, you were amazing with us, grazie 🇮🇹

charles_leclerc you are my favorite place

jensonbutton look how adorable you are, already missing you ❤

laurencaspari i picture you (my best friend) with other girls (charles leclerc) and throw up on the street (actually i went drinking)

priyacaspari looking forward to see you guys racing in monza in 2 weeks 🤗

scuderiaferrari hey @redbullracing are you seeing this?

redbullracing hey, charles, could you please bring back our driver? thank you

maxverstappen1 hey, charles, could you please give back my emotional support friend? thanks

elisebutton

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, mickschumacher, redbullracing, maxverstappen1 and 976.642 others

elisebutton capture it, remember it. thank you so much @taylorswift, i had the time of my life last night, traded soooo many friendship bracelets and it felt amazing to be surrounded by these amazing people - to the girls who were next to us, thank you for making my night insanely beautiful, we're happy and not lonely. and thank you to my lover, my karma, the one that there's some invisible string tying you to me @charles_leclerc for singing all the songs with me, I'll save you a seat at every table

jesonbutton i just know that daniel and mick were with you, i just know

danielricciardo heidi is suffering from post taylor's concert sadness i think we should do it again, same time in a couple of months back in mexico?

schecoperez if you're going to mexico im coming too

charles_leclerc im karma and im your boyfriend

charlisewdc ELISE OMG IT WAS ME AND MY FRIENDS YOU WERE SO NICE WE LOVE YOU

ccaspari make the friendship bracelets take a moment and taste it you got no reason to be afraid I LOVE YOU LIS MISSED YOU SO MUCH THESE MONTHS

georgerussell63 carmen and i are officially tswift fans from now one, thank you for the invitation

maxverstappen1 wait, am i the only one who wasn't there?

landonorris LMAO i think you don't like solo racing after all

elisebutton i invited you, i invited everyone

authors note: after this small serie ends i fully intend to do another social media au with another driver, probably daniel ricciardo x volleyball!player

#Spotify #charles leclerc #formula one imagine #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x reader #jenson button #formula one social media au #f1 social media au #f1 #the eras tour #ferrari

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ravcns · 9 months

Text

Cool With You

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you are hardcore crushing on your coworker not knowing he feels the same and everyone else sees it but you two

tw: usual criminal minds stuff, violence, choking, near death experiences

You were waiting to get coffee; the kitchenette was quite crowded since everyone needed it. Your attention was on him though as he added two packs of sugar to his coffee. Then you saw something out of the ordinary he was making another cup of coffee, adding a generous amount of creamer to it. He was walking your way you hoped your staring went unnoticed. “Coffee the way you like it; enough creamer until the drink turns almost white.” Spencer said with a smile, handing it to you. Upon taking a sip you realized it tastes similar to when you would make it. You thanked him, hoping that drinking the coffee would hide the blush growing on your face. The team watched on as the two of you avoided eye contact.

It seemed the only people oblivious to your secret crushes were you two. For a team of profilers they put it together quite fast; the lingering stares when the other wasn’t looking, small gestures, things you both remembered about eachother that even the team didn’t, and of course the most obvious sign was the way you both clammed up when somebody asked you about one another. But of course it was chalked down to, “We are just really good friends.” Neither of you wanted to admit it for some reason and it was painful to watch, even for Hotch. When Spencer came over to play with Jack the ever so observant kid could see it too. “You like Y/n.” Jack said, putting a puzzle piece down. This caught Spencer off guard. He quickly replied, “I do not she is my colleague and good friend; I respect her.” Though he did stumble over a few words, causing Hotch to laugh from the kitchen; Spencer wanted to crawl in a hole. “How’s the puzzle going?” Hotch asked, coming out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee for himself and water for Spencer. “Daddy, Uncle Reid has a crush on Y/n!” The energetic child stated. Aaron even cracked a smile at this, “Oh really?” He said. “Hotch I don’t.” Spencer responded. “I don’t know. What do you think buddy?” He picked up his son and asked. “You do too!” Jack stuck his tongue out and laughed. Hotch wondered how you both were so unaware.

“Watch your step.” Reid warned, guiding you up the hill. “Thanks Spence.” You said. The current case at hand was catching a serial killer and the team had him cornered. Problem being was that his cabin is at the top of a steep hill; no vehicles could get up or down and the path was hard to walk. When the team finally had arrived they quickly busted down the front and back doors. You and JJ took the basement, “Clear and we found the victim, she’s alive.” JJ informed the team. You left her with the young girl and walked up the steps catching the guy making a break for the back door. “I got eyes on Carter he is making a run for it, pursing him now.” You said, sprinting after him. “Alex Carter, FBI; You’re under arrest for the murders of Lauren Palmer, Emilia Cruz, Morgan Lee, and the kidnapping of Brianna King. You have the right to remain silent anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” You had him that’s the thing the dude was handcuffed now. “We just found three unidentified bodies in the attic.” Morgan said into the comms. “Three?” You repeated back. “Yeah, Hotch and Reid are coming out to you now.” He responded.

That’s when the unsub started to struggle. He began moving erratically, irritating you. “We can add refusal to cooperate to the list of you keep struggling.” You stated. He just looked at you with this sick and unsettling expression, suddenly you could hear the sound of handcuffs breaking. Then he pushed back against your body and kicked you in the shin, causing you to lose your hold on his arms. Immediately Carter was on top of you, squeezing his hands on your neck. All that could come out strangled gasps for air. “Step away from the agent, Carter.” Hotch said when him and Reid arrived. Spencer just watched in horror as you struggled to breathe and tears streamed down your face. “Think about your sister Alex, would she have wanted this?” Hotch asked, trying and hoping to find some reason. It didn’t seem to get through and a shot rang out in the air, alerting the remaining team members in the cabin. Reid immediately rushed to you, pulling you out from under the unsubs slack body. His gun was long forgotten. Hotch was thankful it was only a shot in the arm that shocked the guy who realized what had happened. Once again he was handcuffed this time by Hotch who said, “No funny business; you’re also under arrest assault on a federal agent.”

Spencer stuck with you from helping your trembling figure down the hill to sitting with you in the back of the ambulance ride. Even in the emergency room he refused to leave your side. “Spence I’m fine.” You told him for the billionth time while grabbing your stuff and exiting with him following behind you. The team immediately greeting you in the waiting room voicing their concerns and asking how you were doing. “They said the bruising should fade in a few weeks.” You informed them. Hotch inquired since it was protocol after all that you take time off but it was declined. “Aaron if I get put on paperwork I’ll lose it, please.” His mouth formed into a straight line before he answered, “Alright then, take it easy.”

It a few weeks later during one of your movie nights with Reid that he couldn’t take it anymore. “How are you doing?” He asked with a genuine look on his face as the random horror movie you selected played. “I’m good, why?” You responded. “Y/n, I know all your tells.” He stated. “What?” You just stared at him. “Playing with the left front strand of your hair when you are in thought, you bite your lip when you’re upset or annoyed, and when lying you twist the bracelet on your wrist atleast two times as if it irritates you like you’re doing right now.” Spencer said, causing you to stop yourself mid second turn. He continued, “I’m a profiler but first I’m your friend. Did you not think I wouldn’t notice somethings wrong?” At the word friend it felt like your heart was being squeezed and you had to stop yourself from biting your lip. He really was right about your tells and you didn’t know why but this upset you. “And you’re upset now that I said something.” Reid stated the obvious. “I’m not.” You responded. “Then why are you getting defensive?” He questioned, causing you to sigh in defeat. “I think I’m going to head home now.” You said. Spencer looked at your figure sadly as you grabbed your stuff.

He was tired of dancing around his feelings; you not being aware of the fact that other people care and just continuously putting yourself in dangerous positions. He desperately wanted you to know that you didn’t need to do those things. “I don’t want to watch you just walk away.” He said in this small voice, causing you to pause. Spencer took this as an invitation to continue, “There are so many people who care about you and just want to be here for you, I care. I can’t let you leave and ice me out because your too stubborn to let someone in.” You started moving again to leave and this time he stopped you. “I want to be the person you lean on when you’re in pain, help your realize that you don’t need to go through these things alone, or the fact you don’t need to prove yourself to the team or me.” Reid stated, looking you in the eye. “Y/n I think-”, He stopped himself then looked like he was in thought. “No I know that I am in love with you, Y/n L/n, and I have been since that day in Los Angeles.” Spencer spoke with clarity in his voice.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female!reader #bau #criminal minds angst #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 6 months

Text

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 26

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 11/13/2023

Chapter Quote: "I don't want to do this."

I lost track of how much time passed as I watched Dieter sleep. My mind was racing through so many thoughts that it overwhelmed me, making it impossible to process anything at all. It was hard to pull myself away from him, but I felt like I needed a few minutes to myself to just…feel. I was relieved when the nurse walked in to check on him, feeling like that was my out. I let her know that we would be in the waiting room if he asked for us. When she turned her attention back to her checklist, I excused myself from the room.

As I walked down the hallway, I took a moment to observe my surroundings. Seeing patients through open doors in various states of critical care was making me feel anxious. The sounds of beeping machines dredging up old memories that I thought I had packed away for good. The pungent smells of antiseptic and fragrances of chemical based cleaners caused my stomach to churn. I hated hospitals and I hated that Dieter was having to go through this experience. I truly hoped that it would at least have a positive outcome so that he could finally get the proper help he needed.

I ducked into a single-user bathroom to have a minute to myself, knowing it would be my only opportunity. After locking the door behind me, I walked over to the sink and gave myself a once over in the mirror. I looked like hell. My air-dried curly hair was now a frizzy mess from my fingers incessantly pulling at it. My eyes were circled in darkness from the lack of sleep, red and swollen from crying. The t-shirt I had quickly thrown on before leaving the house was wrinkled and had a stain on it. No wonder the ER doctor didn’t take my word for it when I said I was fine. I wouldn’t have believed me either.

I tried to smooth my hair down but didn’t get anywhere with it. Luckily, I had a hair tie on my wrist so I could pull it back into a messy bun. I took a minute to splash some warm water over my face. My skin felt sensitive and raw from the salty tears that had fallen, no matter how much I willed them not to. I switched over to cold water for a little shock to my system to try and wake up some. After splashing a few handfuls of the cold water, I stood watching it pool in my cupped hands, allowing it to spill over the sides. I could feel myself disassociating, until the flashes of memories started to break through.

Images of Dieter lying on the floor, his eyes opening briefly as I tried to wake him before they rolled back and closed again. The way he looked lifeless in my lap on the drive to the hospital, with a weakened pulse. The sight of him being pulled from my embrace and loaded onto a gurney surrounded by nurses and doctors as they worked to stabilize him. It was too much, and it was all crashing down on me at once. I had almost lost him because I was too fucking selfish to take the risk and reach out to him when I knew in my gut that something was wrong. I completely ignored it all and focused on being angry at him, just to make myself feel better about the whole situation. Now, I only felt anger toward myself.

I snapped back to the present, letting the water spill from my hands before reaching to turn off the faucet. I placed my wet hands on the back of my neck for a moment, allowing the coldness to soothe the heat radiating through my body. I closed my eyes and took a few measured breaths. Then, I reached for paper towels to dry my hands and face before throwing them in the trash. I placed both palms on the sink, leaning against it with my head down. I closed my eyes again, still taking deep breaths to try and center myself.

When I raised my head and opened my eyes, meeting my reflection in the mirror, I hated the person that I saw. My biggest fear had been losing myself again. I had allowed it to happen without even realizing how the darkness was slowly consuming what little was left of me. The harder I worked to keep it away from me the easier it was for the darkness to stealthily pull me into its numbing embrace. The sad part is, I welcomed it with open arms under the guise that I was doing what I needed to do to move forward and be happy.

For the first time since Dieter ended things, I realized I was slowly turning back into the person I was before him. The person I was when I was with Justin. The scared girl who pretended everything was fine and hid her feelings away out of fear that someone would see how bad things were. I had been conditioned to behave this way to protect Justin and all his wrong doings. I had been conditioned to hide my feelings away so that I wouldn’t realize how unhappy I really was. I could feel the walls starting to crumble down again and I found myself craving a drink but knew I couldn’t go down that road. I knew I needed to get back on track and handle things the correct way, for the sake of myself. I wasn’t going to be able to be there for Dieter unless I finally got my shit together. For real this time. I needed to find better ways to cope and actually process my feelings, rather than lock them away. If I didn’t do this, I knew I would be lost to the darkness forever.

I was drawn away from my thoughts by a knock on the door. I took one last deep breath and moved to leave the bathroom. As I continued my trudge down the hallway, I somehow managed to focus my mind back on the current situation that needed attention, trying to think through the next steps. I wasn’t even sure what those needed to be since I had never dealt with anything like this. This was definitely going to be a team effort.

When I entered the waiting room, I was met with more activity than I expected. Everyone was working to check out various inpatient treatment centers for Dieter. Alex was reaching out to his contacts for feedback while Lauren and Gabby did research on their phones. I immediately joined in. We were determined to find something away from LA that wasn’t one of the upscale places celebrities usually went to that catered to them. He needed to be somewhere that would not treat him any differently than other patients and really focus on helping him get better.

We finally settled on a facility in Tucson, Arizona called Sanctuary Hills that appeared to be promising. It was away from paparazzi central, making it less likely that anything would leak about Dieter being there. It also came highly recommended by Dr. Wilson and several other individuals that Alex spoke with. It would be a long drive, but more than worth it if the place was as good as everyone made it out to be. Once the decision was made, Gabby called to get more information and to get the admission process started.

We did not want to give Dieter the opportunity to change his mind, so Gabby and I planned to drive him directly to the facility once he was discharged from the hospital. Sanctuary Hills was kind enough to send us a list of things that Dieter could and could not bring with him, so I offered to go pack a bag for him on my way home to nap and freshen up. Gabby planned to do the same while Lauren and Alex stayed behind to spend some time with Dieter once he woke up.

When the Uber driver pulled into the driveway of Dieter’s house, I could feel my chest tighten as anxiety set in. Being there after what had happened the previous evening felt odd, almost sort of eerie. It seemed like there was bad energy emitting from the once happy place that I had considered my second home.

As I used Gabby’s key to unlock the front door, I suddenly felt a wave of emotion sweep over me. I could already feel a lump forming in my throat. When I stepped inside and really took in the space for the first time, I realized how much of a mess it was. I had noticed it the night before but didn’t register the severity because I had been focused on helping him. Dieter’s comforter and a pillow, my pillow, were haphazardly laying on the couch. There were old takeout containers randomly sitting around the living room and kitchen, some still containing food that looked like it had hardly been touched. I assumed that was the cause of the questionable smell permeating throughout the house. The TV was laying on its back on the floor with a busted screen. There were empty and broken liquor bottles of all shapes and sizes laying everywhere. Most of the broken bottles were concentrated on the floor under the painting I had left for him, like they had been thrown at the wall. The painting appeared to be untouched, which was oddly comforting to see.

It was difficult to see the physical evidence of how bad he had been hurting. There was no way that I could look at the sight before me and not feel anything. I simply could not pack this away somewhere in my mind and not deal with it. It was too much, but I needed the raw emotional confrontation. This is what finally caused my walls to crumble down, forcing me to feel everything at once. The sadness, betrayal, hurt, pain, anger…all of it. I couldn’t hold back the flood of tears any longer. My vision blurred momentarily before the tears started to fall incessantly. I didn’t even bother to wipe them away as I made my way toward Dieter’s bedroom to start packing a bag for him.

If I thought the living room and kitchen were bad, his bedroom was even worse. The bed was completely torn apart, and the frame broken. The nightstands were turned on their sides and the lamps that once set atop them laid in pieces on the floor. The mirror on the dresser was shattered and the drawers and clothes were thrown across the room. There was a hole in the drywall where the headboard used to be and another beside the bathroom door. It felt like I was having an out of body experience, the scene around me looking like it had been pulled straight from a movie.

I stood there for a time; both of my hands placed over my mouth in shock as I looked around the room. I had a hard time reconciling the thoughts of Dieter causing such destruction. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t a violent person. This was the culmination of his pain finally breaking him. My legs suddenly felt weak at that realization. I sank to the floor, continuing to take it all in as the tears fell freely down my cheeks. It was hard to see a space that held so many wonderful memories of us reduced to a pile of rubble. Maybe it had been even harder for him to be reminded of those memories while it was still intact, a caricature of how things used to be.

I don’t know how much time passed before I finally pulled myself up off the floor. I needed to take a breather. I walked back to the living room, where I noticed Dieter's phone still laying on the floor from where he had dropped it. My car keys were on the floor nearby, where I had apparently dropped them in the midst of my rush to get to him. I leaned down to pick up the keys and phone. I figured Gabby may need some of the contact information from his phone to deal with his work stuff, so I didn’t want to forget it. I walked over and plopped down on the couch before setting the two items down on the coffee table next to one another.

The lock screen of the phone lit up, catching my attention. I picked it up for a closer look, realizing the wallpaper was the infamous picture of us that he had posted on Instagram. Except this was the unedited original. It was in color, uncropped, and not blurred with filters. I had never seen this version of it. It almost broke me to see how happy and content we both looked. Even though Dieter’s head was turned slightly, I could still see the rare spark of happiness in his eyes. The crease that he often had between his brows was smooth. It was hard to remember that for a short time we had been blissfully happy. It seemed so long ago now. I realized that I would give anything to go back to that. We both needed the good times, to experience those rare moments of joy, when things didn’t feel like an uphill battle.

I grabbed the comforter that was halfway hanging onto the floor and wrapped it around me as I laid down onto the couch, phone still clutched in my hand. The scent of Dieter’s cologne surrounded me in a comforting embrace as I continued to examine the picture. A low battery alert appeared on screen. I chuckled to myself, thinking how my battery felt low too. I eventually set his phone back down on the table and drifted off to sleep.

I was jolted awake by my cell phone ringing in my back pocket. When I sat up, I realized it was now dark outside. I had been asleep for longer than I had planned to be. It took me a few seconds to work out where I was as I wiped the sleep from my eyes. I quickly stood and fished the phone out of my pocket to see that it was Gabby calling me. She wanted to check in and see how I was doing and if I needed help with any of Dieter’s things. I didn’t, of course. That was something I wanted to deal with on my own, but I appreciated her offer, nevertheless. It felt good to know that I was not alone in all of this, that this time around there were other people close to Dieter and me who understood what was going on.

Gabby went on to share that Alex had called to say the hospital would be releasing Dieter the following morning. She was planning for us to make the seven-and-a-half-hour drive immediately after picking him up. Then she and I would take a flight back to Los Angeles. It was going to be a long day, but it was worth it if it meant he was going to get the help he needed. We made plans for her to pick me up in a rental car and be ready to go first thing in the morning.

Once Gabby and I hung up, I realized I had a text from Aubrey. I had only just realized that I never called into work that today, so I was surprised I had not heard from her sooner.

Aubrey: Lauren called me last night to let me know what was going on. I hope everything is ok. Please take all the time you need, for the both of you. Keep me updated and let me know if you need anything.

I sighed heavily. I seriously did not deserve her or Lauren. They gave me more grace than I deserved sometimes. I fired off a quick update to Aubrey to let her know that both Dieter and I were doing ok and that I would need a couple of days off. She responded immediately to let me know that would be fine.

Since that was off the “to do” list, I decided to pack Dieter’s bag. I pulled up the list that Gabby had sent to me. He was basically limited to three days’ worth of comfortable clothes and nothing else until they considered him to be fully stable. He couldn’t even have his glasses or contacts, something he was definitely not going to be happy about.

I sent a quick text to Gabby reminding her that Dieter would need a phone list since he couldn’t have his phone. I figured she might have a better idea of who needed to be listed on that and that she would probably have most of their numbers. Then, I made my way to his closet, ignoring the mess in the bedroom as best I could. I found that his closet was completely untouched and still somewhat organized. I noticed that half of it was now empty, which reminded me of the conversation we had about making space to keep some of my things there. He had clearly held up to his word on that and never bothered to change it back. I could feel the lump forming in my throat with that thought. I shook my head, dismissing the memory so I could focus on the task at hand.

I quickly grabbed a pair of his gray workout shorts and two pairs of striped pajama pants (that did not have drawstrings) and three plain t-shirts from the shelves. I found his bright green robe and removed the waist belt before adding it to my stack. I had to dig around to find slip on closed toe shoes that didn’t have any metal or laces on them. At the bottom of his shoe pile, I found a pair of black croc clogs that I had never seen him wear, but it’s what he was getting because it was the only pair I could find that met the requirements. After grabbing some of his boxers and socks, I started looking around for a bag. I eventually came across an extra-large tote bag that could barely hold everything. He wasn’t allowed to bring his own toiletries, so I didn’t have to worry about any of that. I quickly ran through the list again making sure I didn’t miss anything. I made a mental note to double check on the phone list with Gabby and get his medications back from the hospital. Other than that, he couldn’t have anything else.

Before I left Dieter’s house, I collected all the food containers and took out the trash. That was something that needed immediate attention due to the smell alone. The rest would have to wait until I had more time. I wanted to make sure to get everything cleaned up before he came home, whenever that would be. The mess was the last thing he needed to deal with, and he most definitely did not need any reminders of what happened to him.

I collected the tote bag, my phone and Dieter’s, and my car keys before walking out to my car and heading back to my house. After I got home, I gathered a few things I would need for our quick trip, set my alarm, then immediately went to bed. Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for sleep to take me. I was physically and mentally exhausted and I could feel every bit of it.

The morning alarm came quickly. I felt like I had only just dozed off as I sat up in bed, stretching. My head was throbbing, and I could feel that my eyes were still swollen and stinging from all the crying I had done the past two days. I hoped a hot shower would help alleviate the tightness I could feel from the inflammation and ease my aching body. I drug myself up out of bed and took a very long shower. I mostly stood under the hot spray, unmoving, as I stared at the floor. I felt like I needed to mentally prepare myself for whatever the day would bring. I didn’t know what to expect, which left me anticipating all possible outcomes, including the worst-case scenarios. My only hope was that Dieter stayed calm throughout the trip and didn’t change his mind about accepting help before we got him there.

I spent longer than I should have in the shower, causing me to rush around to get ready. Not that I had planned to put a lot of effort into it anyway because it was definitely a messy bun and sunglasses kind of day. I was glad that I had gotten things ready the night before or else I know that I would have ended up forgetting something. Before I knew it, Gabby was pulling into my driveway. When I got into the car, she handed Dieter’s phone list over to me so she would not forget about it. I added it to his bag before I handed over his cell phone to her.

I could tell she was just as anxious as I was from her tight grip on the steering wheel and tense posture. We hardly said a word to each other during the drive to the hospital. Both of us were clearly deep in thought. The way I felt was almost indescribable. I was anxious and my chest felt tight, but in a different way than before. My head was buzzing as the thoughts raced uncontrollably. I felt hopeful, sad, and angry all at the same time. I was having a hard time wrapping my head around how it had actually come to this. It almost didn’t seem real. I was starting to feel disconnected, like I was watching everything from the outside. I knew that probably wasn’t a good thing, but also felt like it might be the only way I could get through today. I would just have to deal with the consequences of it later.

When we arrived at the hospital, we found that Alex was already pushing the discharge process along as best he could. He had spent the night with Dieter so he wouldn’t have to be alone. Alex had to be exhausted since he had been at the hospital the entire time. He had the least amount of sleep out of all of us in the past forty-eight hours, so I knew he was ready to crash. Lauren arrived soon after Gabby and me so that she could take Alex home. She had stopped to get us all coffee and breakfast too, which was very much appreciated by all.

Dr. Wilson briefly met with Gabby and I to give us Dieter’s bag full of medication and to go over paperwork. He gave us copies of everything that Sanctuary Hills would need but indicated they had sent electronic copies as well. He let us know that they gave Dieter a sedative thirty-minutes prior because he was still being uncooperative with staff and exhibiting high levels of anxiety. He noted that it should last about eight hours but included another dose with Dieter’s medication in case it was needed. That was not the news that Gabby and I wanted to hear, but we were appreciative that Dieter was given something to calm him down during the trip. We were hopeful that being with us would help him relax some too.

When we were finally able to make our way to Dieter’s room, we found him sitting on the bed picking at the food Lauren had brought for him. It didn’t look like he had eaten much of it. He seemed a little dazed as he sat in silence staring around the room at nothing. Lauren and Alex gave Gabby and I an apprehensive look as our eyes darted between them and Dieter. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting but I don’t think this was it. I assumed his behavior was like this because the sedative was kicking in, making him feel out of it while dulling the anxiety.

I walked over to stand next to the bed, reaching out to push Dieter’s hair back out of his eyes, which caused him to focus his attention on me for the first time. He knitted his brows together as he stared at me in silence for a moment. Then he reached up to lightly tug on my shirt, pulling me to sit down beside him. I wrapped my right arm around him as I moved to sit closer to him, then reached up to rub the curls at the nap of his neck. He immediately melted into my side and laid his head on my shoulder, his arms tightening around me. I took a stuttered breath as I fought back the tears that were threatening to fall. He was so fucking pitiful, and it was breaking my heart to see him like that.

After several minutes passed and when I eventually felt like I had my emotions under control, I asked Dieter if he wanted to change clothes and get ready to leave. He nodded slowly against my shoulder. Gabby handed him a set of clothes and the crocs I had gotten from his house as he got up to go toward the bathroom. While we waited for him, a nurse came in with the last bit of paperwork for Gabby to sign off on. By the time he came back out, we were ready to go. Gabby went out ahead of us to get the rental SUV and pull it up to the door. The rest of us made our way downstairs, accompanied by two patient care assistants. They kept a close eye on Dieter the whole way, which made me question what he had been doing to the staff that was so “uncooperative”. I felt like they were expecting him to run off or something.

Once Gabby pulled up, we gave Alex and Dieter some space to say their goodbyes. Alex had placed one of his hands around the back of Dieter’s neck, pulling their foreheads close together as he talked quietly to his older brother. Something about the sight caused Gabby, Lauren, and I to immediately tear up. The intense emotional look that passed between the two of them said so much. Dieter tightly nodded along to whatever his brother was saying before they pulled each other into a warm embrace. After a quick hug from Lauren, Dieter crawled into the back seat of the SUV. He stared at me wide-eyed and unblinking with his sad puppy dog eyes, seeming to be asking a question without words. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile before climbing in to sit next to him as he scooted to the other side.

Dieter sat wringing his hands and staring down at the floor as we waited for Gabby to finish filling Alex in on our plans for the day. I reached over to grab his left hand and he visibly relaxed some. He glanced over at me with a tight smile before turning to stare out the window. He still looked paler than normal. Seeing him in his own clothes made it more apparent that he had lost some weight, which added to his frail appearance. I knew the current sight of him would haunt my dreams for weeks to come.

Soon after we got on the road, I noticed Dieter was having a hard time keeping his eyes open as he leaned his head against the window.

I gave his hand a small squeeze as I eyed him, “You ok?”

“Those fucking drugs they gave me are making it hard to stay awake,” he said flatly without looking my way.

I started rubbing small circles on his hand with my thumb, “Do you wanna lay down?”

His eyes locked with mine in an intense stare, like he was surprised at my words. I moved to grab a small blanket and pillow from behind the seat that Gabby had brought for him. I handed him the blanket and placed the pillow in my lap as he watched me intently. I don’t know why, but I suddenly felt like I was dealing with a scared feral animal from the look he was giving me. I didn’t want to spook him, but I also wanted to make sure I was there for him in the ways he needed. I reached toward him and motioned with my hand for him to lay down. He moved to get comfortable the best he could in the small space, folding his body to fit and putting his head in my lap. He sighed deeply, eyes closing as he tried to make himself comfortable. Once he was situated, I started running my fingers through his hair and lightly scratching at his scalp. It wasn’t long before his breathing changed to deep steady breaths as he fell asleep.

The drive was long and quiet. I could occasionally feel Gabby’s eyes on me in the rearview mirror as I watched Dieter sleep. My thoughts were still quickly cycling through every second of our time together, trying to figure out when things started to get so bad. I had a feeling Gabby could see everything I was feeling written on my face during that drive. She never questioned it though. There were times that I glanced her way and she seemed to be just as deep in thought as I was.

About four hours into the trip, Gabby asked if we should stop for food. Since Dieter was still sleeping, we decided to push through the drive without stopping. I got the feeling that she wanted to get this whole process over with as soon as possible, leaving little room for interruptions or complications. I couldn’t blame her since I was feeling the same way, along with the nagging feeling that the worst part was still to come.

It turns out, I was right. By the time we reached Sanctuary Hills, the sedative was wearing off. Dieter had woken up about twenty minutes before we got to the facility, and I could tell his anxiety was ramping up. It started with his fingers twitching, and the restless moving of his legs, until he eventually sat up in his seat. His eyes began to drift across everything he could see in the car. Eventually the outside caught his attention as he started to fidget more and wring his hands together again. He refused to take the other pill that Dr. Wilson had sent with us because he was tired of sleeping and how the drug was making him feel.

As we pulled into the parking lot, Dieter’s eyes fixated on the building while he roughly scratched at his chin. I grabbed his hand to make him stop in hopes it would calm him down some. Gabby and I exchanged worried glances in the rearview mirror as she unbuckled her seatbelt. Gabby and I got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. Gabby pulled Dieter’s door open. He sat staring at me, wide-eyed. He looked terrified. I gave him a tight smile as I reached out my hand for his. He finally relented and took it as he got out. He shuffled slowly behind me as we walked toward the entrance. Gabby grabbed his bag out of the back and quickly caught up to us.

Once we entered the facility, Dieter stood closely at my side with a tight grip on my left hand as he chewed on the thumbnail of his free hand. His head was down, but his eyes were scanning over everything in sight. I tried my best to sooth him and keep him calm while Gabby worked to complete the check in process, occasionally asking him questions for the paperwork she was filling out. He answered quietly, in a barely audible voice, never removing his thumb from his mouth to speak.

One of the ladies helping with the check in process started to go through Dieter’s bag to check for “contraband” and ensure all of the items were in compliance with the regulations. As she was checking everything, she asked him if he had any jewelry or a cell phone that he needed to turn over to us before Gabby and I left. I felt Dieter tense beside me as his energy changed, from anxious to almost hostile. When I turned to look at him, I could see the panic and anger flashing in his eyes. The inevitable meltdown was finally happening.

“My phone? You mean I don’t get to keep my fucking phone? No. I didn’t agree to that.”

He started shaking his head frantically from side to side as he backed away from me. I calmly walked over to him and placed both of my hands on his face, softly stroking his patchy beard, in an attempt to calm him as he continued to ramble on.

“How am I supposed to call you without my phone? What if I need you? This place is like a fucking prison. I don’t want to do this.”

“Dieter, listen to me.”

He finally paused his movements as he stared directly into my eyes. What I saw there made me feel like someone was carving my heart out of my chest with a rusted spoon. I have no idea how I managed to hold it together, but I did.

“You can’t have your phone, but you can use theirs. You have a set phone time to call us. They want you to focus on getting better, so you can’t keep it with you.”

“A set phone time? I only have your number memorized. Not the others.”

I was momentarily taken off guard by his admission, feeling more emotional than I already had been if that were possible. He obviously wasn’t thinking rationally right now. This wouldn’t be an issue for most people, but Dieter was used to always having his phone to stay connected with those he cared about. It was understandable the absence of that connection would upset him.

“Gabby made you a list of phone numbers so you can call us. It’s in your bag.”

This answer didn’t seem to dampen his anxiety in the slightest, “But I can only call during certain times? What if you don’t answer and I can’t call back?”

“I’ll answer. I promise… and if you need anything between calls, your case worker can call for you if it isn’t something that can wait.”

I could see the tears brimming in his eyes as he continued to stare at me, a pleading expression on his face - either about the phone, his stay, or something else entirely. I was not sure. I tried to keep my face neutral for his sake, but I knew I was failing. My brows drew down together without my permission as my vision blurred slightly from my own tears. He lowered his head and turned away from me, his shoulders shaking slightly from his shallow breathing. He started to clench and unclench his hands at his sides as he moved further away. I quickly wiped at my eyes and glanced over at Gabby and the ladies behind the front desk. They were all staring at the two of us with worry and concern in their eyes. I took a deep breath before walking over to Dieter, pulling him away from the onlookers and enveloping him into a tight hug. I could feel his fingers knotting in the back of my shirt as he spoke through his tears into my neck. “I’m so fucking terrified to do this and I don’t want you to leave me.” I could feel his grip tighten further as he quietly added, “We didn’t get any time to fix things.”

I gently ran my fingers through the back of his hair, “Don’t worry about that, I’ll be right here when you’re done. We can talk about it later. I want you to focus on yourself right now. When you’re better, you’re coming home to me, ok? I’m not going anywhere.”

He slowly pulled back to meet my eyes. He seemed determined now as he searched my face.

“I don’t want to spend another night away from you after this.”

I gave him a genuine smile before leaning my forehead against his and closing my eyes to savor the feeling of him, trying to memorize every little bit of him that I could. I felt a tentative hand cupping my cheek as I opened my eyes to look up at him again. I leaned into his gentle touch, for the first time in months. I had missed it so much more than I realized. I couldn’t help myself. I reached up and entwined my fingers with his hand on my cheek before pulling them to rest between us. I used my other hand to pull him toward me and gently placed a kiss on his lips.

The way his face lit up as a few more tears slid down his cheeks made my heart clench. He didn’t hesitate to reach up with both hands and pull me in for a second and third kiss before briefly resting his forehead against mine, the physical intimacy that we had to do without for months seeming to ground him a little. He took a deep steady breath as he backed away. “Alright, let’s get this shit over with.”

Dieter’s mood shift was surprising and also a relief. He seemed to be having a moment of clarity, which I took full advantage of as I pulled him over toward Gabby so that he could help her finish with his paperwork. Things went much faster after that than I expected. Before we knew it, we were saying our goodbyes. He didn’t let go of my hand until he absolutely had to. He still looked sad, but seemed in better spirits than he was when he arrived. I was thankful for that since it made it more bearable for everyone involved.

Gabby and I had to hurry to catch our flight. We had just enough time to turn in the rental and grab a small snack as we rushed through the airport. We didn’t talk much on our way home. The topic of her brother seemed to be off limits for the both of us, as an unspoken agreement. We were both so drained from the events of the last few days that we needed a break from it. I could tell she was appreciative of having me there though. It was obvious in the small smiles and gentle hand squeeze she would randomly give me during our journey.

By the time I finally made it back to my house, I was running on empty. It was late and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed, but I somehow mustered up the energy to take a quick shower to wash the day of travel away. After that, it didn’t take long before I was out.

In the days that followed, I spent my time cleaning up the disaster that was Dieter’s house. I ended up having his bedroom furniture hauled off since several pieces were broken. It wasn’t worth the effort to try and fix them. Once that project was done, I didn’t have much else to do besides work and I did that from home. I did make an effort to spend time with Gabby and Lauren when I felt up to it. I felt it was important to work on my relationship with them since I had been so absent recently, and I didn’t want to risk isolating myself again as I was trying to cope with things.

After a week had passed, nothing could take my mind off the fact that Dieter hadn’t called me. I was worried that he was starting to realize how badly I had handled this whole situation on my end. He was the one that ended things, but I had made zero effort to fight for us. I had let him go like it was nothing. I would expect him to be hurt by that. Gabby assured me that he hadn’t called because he was having a hard time coming off of his medication and wasn’t feeling up to much phone time. What little he had called to speak with her was to get things sorted out for work and those conversations only lasted a few minutes. She said it was obvious by the way he sounded that he wasn’t feeling well. The case worker told Gabby that he was having some withdrawal symptoms after the first few days of decreasing his medication dosages and he was having a hard time with it. I knew that was most likely the case, but that still didn’t keep the doubts from creeping in, imagining worst case scenarios.

It was nearly two weeks after we had dropped Dieter off at Sanctuary Hills when I got a surprise visit from Alex. He awkwardly greeted me as he walked through the doorway carrying a very large parcel wrapped in brown paper. I eyed it quizzically as he maneuvered it into the living room.

“What is this?”

“Dieter asked me to bring this to you that night I stayed with him at the hospital. I’m sorry, I’m just now getting around to it. He sent a not so polite reminder through Gabby about it yesterday.”

“I take it you haven’t talked to him either then?”

Alex sighed as he shook his head, “No, not yet. Gab said he’s still kind of a mess right now because of the medication changes. She mostly talks to his case worker, I think.”

I nodded in understanding. Knowing that he hadn’t reached out to Alex either did offer some reassurances that it wasn’t just me. It hurt me beyond words to know that he was having such a hard time with the medication changes. I hoped, for his sake, that it did not last much longer.

Alex moved to hand me the large parcel he was holding. I took it as I gave him a questioning look. I noticed his eyes lit up slightly before he gave me a smirk.

“It’s the painting from the art fundraiser.”

I knitted my brows together as I took it from him, ripping the front of the paper to reveal the painting that had turned me into an emotional mess that night. Once I had it completely unwrapped, I set it against the wall and stepped back to look at it. I realized there was something very familiar about the two figures.

More after the image

I turned to Alex, who still had the same smirk on his face, “I don’t understand. How did he know about the painting?”

His smirk slowly turned into a wide smile, “He painted it. He wanted to surprise you with it that night, but obviously that didn’t work out…”

I put my hand to my mouth, gasping audibly. Now I understood the reason I felt drawn to it that night. The two figures were us. I could feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, threatening to make their escape.

“I don’t understand, when did he have time to do this? We were together constantly before he left for Canada.”

Alex moved to stand next to me, “He started it right after he got back from New York. He took a break when he went to film that movie in Mallorca but picked it up again when he got back…before he found you again.”

I chuckled in disbelief, “Well this certainly adds a whole other layer of feelings that I wasn’t expecting.”

“I know he did a lot of it at night, when he couldn’t sleep. He told me he couldn’t get you out of his head. I’m pretty sure he fell in love with you that first night you spilled your drink all over him. He wouldn’t stop talking about you, so I encouraged him to look you up. I don’t think I’ve ever in my life seen him so nervous to do something,” Alex let out a small laugh at the memory.

I didn’t even try to hold the tears back after that. How could I? It said so much about Dieter’s feelings. Alex glanced over at me, realizing my emotional state. He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in for a gentle side hug.

“This is the first painting he’s done in years…just so you know. You definitely woke up something inside of him. We could all see it. I really hope you two can make it work once he gets out of that place. I think you’re good for each other.”

I was taken aback by Alex’s candor regarding his brother. His words were so unexpected given how quiet and shy he always was around me. I appreciated the fact that he felt comfortable enough to open up to me some.

“I’m not sure how much I’m supposed to tell you, but fuck it, you should know. The nickname he gave you, and that phrase… la estrella del norte, la luz en la oscuridad…that’s something our mother used to say to our father. So, to me and Gabby, it’s a big deal that he used that. We’ve never heard him say it to anyone before.”

I couldn’t help the way my face scrunched up at his words. I was one hundred percent about to ugly cry. I put my hand over my eyes to hide it as Alex pulled me in for a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said into the top of my hair.

“No, I’m not upset. This is a happy cry. It’s just…touching, I guess. I didn’t know that. This is a lot of information to take in and process. Thank you for telling me. I really needed this right now.”

Alex backed away and gave both of my shoulders a gentle squeeze and offered a small smile.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer. Let Lauren know when you're free and feeling up to it and we can grab some dinner, yeah?”

I nodded and gave him a small smile as I walked him to the door.

After Alex left, I sat down on the floor in front of the painting, taking in every paint stroke. To the casual observer, it was probably just a nice painting of a couple in an embrace under the night sky. I, however, understood the subtle symbolism of the fog and darkness that surrounded the man, but not the woman and the bright star placed just above the woman in the background. The fact that something so simple could say so much was amazing to me. It had me feeling every emotion all at once.

I could not believe the origin of the nickname he had given me, or that he had started working on the painting well before he found me again. I always felt like there was more to the name, but I was not expecting that. He obviously had strong feelings toward me from the start. Looking back, I could no longer justify my reasoning for not being with him from the beginning. I hated that we had missed out on all of that time together.

I had a lot of thoughts swirling through my head that evening. I spent more time than I probably should have staring at that painting, but it was forcing me to process things that I had been avoiding. By the time I finally pulled myself up from the floor, I was mentally and physically exhausted. I went to bed after that and suffered through a night of restless sleep.

Sixty days after Dieter entered Sanctuary Hills, Gabby received a call from him, after mostly only communicating with his case worker over the past two months. He asked her to attend an in-person family counseling session there at the facility. She immediately agreed and got it scheduled. The day it happened; I was an anxious mess while I awaited news about the visit. He still hadn’t called me, or anyone else for that matter. We didn’t really understand why, but his case worker assured us that he was making progress and doing well. He was trying hard to focus on getting better and working through things a little at a time. He was very focused on his healing journey and doing everything that was asked of him. It was hard for me to understand it, being so far away and consumed by worries, but I was proud of him just the same. I was excited to know he was finally requesting to see his family and was hopeful that was a positive sign.

As it got later into the evening, I was beginning to get concerned since I hadn’t heard from Gabby yet. She had promised to call when she left Sanctuary Hills. I sent her a few texts but did not get a response. I was about to try giving her a call when I heard a knock at the door. I was surprised to see that it was Gabby. The look on her face made my stomach drop. The fact that she hadn’t called and was now showing up with this look on her face couldn’t be a good sign. There was no greeting. She jumped right to the point, “Talia, I’m sorry to just show up, but can we talk? I don’t know who else to talk about this with and I need to talk about it.”

“Yeah, come in.”

We both walked over and sat on the couch. My hands were already fidgeting as the nerves and anticipation quickly built up. Every scenario running through my mind was scary and I wasn’t sure I could handle whatever it was she was about to say. Gabby immediately burst out into sobs. I pulled her into a hug as I tried to suppress my own panic.

“Gabby, I need for you to tell me what’s going on before I have a fucking stroke over here,” I said into her hair. She sighed heavily before pulling away to look at me.

“Dieter told me what happened that night, with mom. I wasn’t prepared for it. I can’t believe he kept that to himself all these years and it fucking kills me that I didn’t do more to support him in dealing with it. I didn’t know he was the one who found her. I always thought it was one of the workers.”

Her sobs continued as I digested her words. I felt instant relief that it wasn’t something worse, something I didn’t know of yet, but at the same time my heart broke for her. I know it had to be hard for her to hear. Hell, it was hard for me to hear.

“I’m sorry, no one else knows about it. I didn’t know who else I could talk to about it. He told me that you knew… I just needed a minute to fall apart and process it before I go home.”

“Hey, take all the time you need. I know it’s a lot to digest,” I said as I rubbed gentle circles on her back.

“I just wished he would have opened up sooner and shared that burden with me. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten so bad if he had. I should have tried harder to make him talk to me about it.”

“Gabby, I don’t think it would have mattered what you said to him. He wasn’t gonna talk until he was ready.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I just feel terrible that I didn’t know. I don’t think anyone did. I bet dad didn’t even know.”

After a few minutes of silence, she seemed to pull herself together. She reached over to grab my free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as she smiled up at me.

“He looks so good though…healthy and alert. I really think the treatment is helping. He’s expressing his feelings so well…I - I’m honestly not sure I’ve ever heard him talk that much about how he feels.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as happy tears slid down my cheeks.

“He said he’s gonna call you soon. He’s nervous to talk to you for some reason and embarrassed about this whole thing. I told him he didn’t need to be, but you know how he is. He misses you though, I could tell. I lost track of how many times he asked about you.”

I reached up with both hands to wipe the tears from my face. It was comforting to know that he was thinking about me. I knew it was selfish of me to think that way because he should be focusing on himself, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel better about things.

Gabby didn’t share much more of what they had talked about. Some of it was things he wanted to talk to me about himself, so I didn’t want to push for more details. Once she finally felt composed, she left for home. She had had a long day of travel and was exhausted.

She and I had gotten so close in the last two months. We had been spending a lot of our free time together, along with Lauren and Alex. It truly felt like I was part of a family with them. I loved that she was now comfortable enough with me to share her feelings openly. It was something we had all been doing since Dieter had been away. Even Alex had opened up more. Even though what had happened to Dieter was devastating, there was a silver lining in it. It had brought us all closer together. We were stronger for it and ready to welcome him home to all the support he could possibly need.

The next morning, I had just finished making a quick breakfast when my cell phone started ringing. When I glanced over at the illuminated screen, I saw it was a Tucson, Arizona number. I had waited two months to see this number appear on the screen. My breath immediately caught in my throat as my eyes teared up. I briefly hesitated to answer as the nerves took hold. After a deep breath I hit the answer button and raised the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Talia?”

A/N: Y'all still with me? How are you feeling after that one? Progress? Maybe? As I have said before, digital art is not one of my strengths, but hopefully what I attempted to do gives you an idea of what I see in my head for Dieter's painting. Again, this one looks better in my head too. LOL! Wasn't that a sweet moment between Talia and Alex though? Also, that moment between Dieter and Alex hit me in the feels too. Then of course, the whole of the Dieter and Talia interactions in this chapter. Poor Gabby... now she knows everything. So many feels in this one! Aaaahhh!😭 Next chapter our dear Dieter and Talia will be reunited in a controlled setting to work through their issues together. It will probably be another rough one. We will get Dieter's official diagnosis and with that you will get a Deconstructing Dieter Bravo post. We will get some details on Talia's past which will also include a Today's Musings post for supplemental reading. So, you will get all sorts of goodies with the next chapter. 😉 In case you missed it, I have included the mood board for this chapter below. Last but not least, a huge thank you to my wonderful beta, @for-a-longlongtime. Seriously, it wouldn't be as good without her feedback. As always, please share your thoughts and theories. You know I'm a sucker for them. 💜

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