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octoberclidan · 10 months

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Let It Out

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Note: this wasn't requested, this is just purely self indulgent. It's basically just my thoughts right now but in a world where Dean's there. I'm feeling kind of sad and just needed some Dean comfort, so this all came out in the space of an hour or so. There are most likely mistakes, but it did its job and I feel better now so I don't really care 🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

Story

[Y/N] sat at one of the tables in the bunker's library, she had a selection of the library's books on vampires laid out in front of her. Sam and Dean were out on a vampire hunt, but she'd decided to stay back this time. The Winchesters were the best hunters she'd ever heard of, and they'd taken her in not too long ago. She had been a hunter nearly all her life too, and she was good, just maybe not as good or as well known as the brothers. For the most part, [Y/N] was happy with her life. She was good at what she did, she saved lives, made the world a better place one monster at a time. Other hunters always complimented her when they worked together, she was knowledgeable, people looked to her for advice and valued her opinion on hunts. She lived with her two best friends, who she held very close to her heart. She loved staying up late researching with Sam, and she loved having Scooby Doo marathons with Dean. She lived in a warded, almost impenetrable bunker filled with all sorts of secrets, the answers to any supernatural question within her reach. Objectively, she had it pretty good.

However, she'd been struggling a little bit recently. Nothing that would make the boys notice, she wasn't really one to talk about her feelings, much like Dean in that regard. Just... little things. She wasn't anyone's first choice. Dean would always choose Sam, Sam would always choose Dean. Everyone she knew had their own person; someone who they'd choose over anyone else, someone they loved the most, someone they cared for the most, someone they couldn't live without. No one she knew had her in that position. [Y/N] didn't really have anyone in that position either. As she sat at the table, books at the ready in case one of the boys needed something, she wondered about who she would choose if she had to. Not even in a life or death situation, but say if they both called her at the same time. Would she really choose one over the other every time? Would she always answer Dean first, or always answer Sam first? Would it make a difference? She wasn't even sure if she really cared anymore.

Apart from that, she also felt a bit not needed recently too. She knew Sam wouldn't need to call her to ask her about vampire lore, he'd killed hundreds of them at this stage. Dean, having nearly become a vampire himself at one stage, obviously didn't need lore help on a vamp hunt either. He knew how to chop heads off. They didn't need her out there either, the two of them were more than enough to take down what sounded like a small nest themselves. She actually felt a little bit stupid, sitting there with the books out, phone sitting on the table after she'd double checked it wasn't on mute. They weren't going to need her for this. She hadn't received a notification at all since the previous night when Dean had sent her a quick 'made it to the motel, be back in a few days' text. She'd sent the boys a text earlier that day to tell them to let her know if they needed anything. They'd both read it. They hadn't responded. Of course they didn't need anything, not from her, they were the Winchesters.

She sat there staring at the old pages from the book she had open right in front of her, not taking anything in, just letting these thoughts go round and round in her head. It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to justify feeling sad. She had everything she needed, nothing bad had happened. No one had said anything mean to her. She had no right feeling sorry for herself about not being Dean Winchester's number one priority. Still, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to different scenarios. What if she decided to just up and leave? Live on the road like she used to, go on solo hunts or meet up with a different hunter in every city. Would the boys ask her to come back? Or would they just wish her well, an 'it was nice having you, call us any time' sort of deal? She wasn't family, she wasn't like Cas, or Bobby. She wasn't even like Jody or Donna, she hadn't known them that long. She'd only ended up living in the bunker because she didn't have a place of her own, and Sam had suggested she take a room there after they'd gone on a few hunts together. The domesticity of her relationship with the boys was only out of convenience. The movie nights, late night celebrations at the bar, research days, game nights, long drives... they'd all go on whether or not she was there.

It was 2am when she realised her eyes were slightly stinging, dry from her blank staring, slightly aching from her effort to not give in to the sadness and start crying. Her back felt a bit stiff from sitting in the hard chair for hours too. She grabbed the book right in front of her and migrated to the couch in the back of the library, moving almost in autopilot, the self pitying thoughts still occupying most of her mind. She lay down on her back for a few minutes, trying to stretch out and relieve some of the tension she'd built up over the course of the day. With a sigh, she rolled over to her side and propped her head up with her elbow, leaning on the armrest. She had the book open in front of her on the couch, and she lazily flicked through the pages, still not really taking anything in. The tiredness had taken over and her eyes had been long closed by the time her phone buzzed from the table.

***

"No answer?" Dean asked from the drivers side, and Sam shook his head. "Try calling her, we're gonna be passing the diner in about five minutes".

"Right, yeah I'll call her now". Sam lifted his phone up to his ear and waited, but it rang out, a familiar voice telling him to leave a message. "Nope, nothing".

"That's not like her, what time is it? 1? 2?" Dean began tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he stopped at a traffic light.

"Just after 1pm, yeah. Maybe she's out and didn't bring her phone?"

"She never goes anywhere without her phone Sammy".

"Well maybe she's in the shower or something? Let's just stop in the diner anyway and pick up lunch, she always orders the same thing, we'll just get that". Sam watched as Dean's focus was glued to the traffic light, clearly ready to go as soon as it turned green. "Or if you're anxious about getting back, we can skip the diner". Sam tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice as he suggested this. He'd been looking forward to some food all day, having left their motel very early that morning. Dean had texted [Y/N] to tell her they'd finished up the hunt and were on their way home several hours ago, but she hadn't read it yet. Their plan was to stop in their favourite local diner on the way back and get some hot food for lunch, and Sam had texted [Y/N] to ask if she wanted anything, but she hadn't responded to him either, hadn't even read his text.

"I think we should just get back, you can go back out for food if you want". Dean floored it the second the light turned green, pushing Sam back into his seat. He looked at the determination in his brother's face and knew there was no point arguing. Dean hadn't said anything, but Sam knew how he felt about [Y/N]. She might not have noticed it, but Sam always caught Dean's lingering glances, the longing in his eyes as he listened to [Y/N]'s stories, the blush on his cheeks when she complimented him on something. Sam didn't know if they'd ever spoken to each other about something more than friendship, but secretly he shipped them. He knew [Y/N] would be good for Dean, she brought out a lighter side of him. He was more comfortable in his own skin around her, he was more enthusiastic about taking a break from hunting when she was there to spend time with, he was more likely to open up to her when something was on his mind. Sam was actually planning on asking [Y/N] about Dean, he wanted to see if he could get something started with them and he knew he'd probably have a better chance if he started with [Y/N].

"Yeah okay, sure". Sam pressed his hand onto his stomach to muffle the grumbling coming from it, and stared out the window as he watched the bunker come into view. As soon as Dean parked the car, he was out and taking two steps at a time down the bunker's staircase, immediately searching for [Y/N]. He went straight to her room, but the door was open and she wasn't in there. He checked the kitchen but she wasn't there either, and she wasn't in the Dean Cave. He called her name out as he wandered around the bunker, but there was no response. Working up into a bit of a panic, finally, he walked through to the library, noting the spread of books on the table. A soft snore brought his attention to the couch, where she was curled up, sleeping on top of an open book. His shoulders dropped in relief to see that she was okay.

He quietly walked over and crouched down in front of her, carefully slipping the book out from under her head. He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, trying to see if she had a temperature. It wasn't like [Y/N] to be sleeping on the couch in the middle of the day, especially when she hadn't answered her phone from the morning either. His hand on her head stirred her, and her eyes fluttered open, slowly focusing on his face. "Hey Sweetheart". He gave her a smile and moved his hand from her forehead down to push her hair out of her face. "You feeling okay?" He kept his voice low, not wanting to disturb her any more than he had to. If it was Sam laying there, he would've thrown something at him or poked him. He had a soft spot for [Y/N] though, he couldn't help it, he felt a need to be gentle with her. She slowly shook her head and looked away from him. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?" He asked but she shook her head again. "What time did you go to sleep at?" She shrugged.

"You didn't need me". She mumbled, glancing at the books on the table, and Dean watched as a tear trickled down her cheek, instantly causing his heart to ache.

"Sweetheart, there was only one vampire, I didn't even need Sam there. We were in and out in twenty minutes, that's why we're back so early".

"Only one?" She sniffed, still not making eye contact with him.

"Yeah, only one. Not the brightest either". He chuckled lightly.

"Oh, okay". She whispered.

"I need you, you know that". He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "Is that why you didn't want to come on the case? You don't feel needed?". She bit her lip, trying to hide the fact that it was quivering, and nodded her head. "Okay. Come on, sit up for me". Dean gripped her shoulders and pulled her up into a sitting position before sitting down next to her. "I'm not Sam, so you know I'm not great at this sort of thing, but uh, do you wanna talk about it? About how you're feeling I mean". He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she shook her head. "That's okay, that's cool". He wasn't quite sure what to do other than just sit there with her, so that's what he did. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Dean noticed that she was starting to lean into him, her head resting on his shoulder, and her breathing quite shaky. He knew she was crying, and he couldn't take it.

"Okay, come here". He took his arm back from around her shoulders and pushed himself off the couch, kneeling back down in front of her. Before she had a chance to ask what he was doing, he gently grabbed her waist and pulled her forward on the couch, her legs making room for him between them as he enveloped her in a hug. She instantly wrapped her arms around his neck, and he placed one of his hands on the back of her head, pushing it into his neck while he kept his other hand tight around her waist. "Let it out, I'm here".

She wasn't waiting for his permission, but as soon as he gave the command she lost all control and began to sob, her body shaking as she grabbed fistfulls of the back of his flannel, clinging to him. He just held her and ran his hands up and down her back. "You're okay, you're okay". He whispered into her ear as he brought a hand up to stroke her hair. "You mean the world to me, you make everything better, let me make you feel better too". He kissed her temple and pulled back slightly to look at her face once her shaking calmed down a bit and she'd caught her breath. "You tired?" He whispered and she nodded. "Okay, let's go". She didn't have time to react before he'd hooked his arms under her thighs and stood up with her, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck. He kept his hands under her thighs as he began to walk, carrying her out of the library. She leaned her chin on his shoulder, her cheek pressed against the warmth of his neck, feeling the slight tickle of his stubble as he walked. She watched the library disappear behind them as he made his way towards the bedrooms, a small bubble of excitement taking over from the sadness as she watched him skip her room and push open the door to his.

[Y/N] had been in Dean's room before, but she'd never been in his bed. For all of his boasting about having the best bed in the bunker, he'd never shared it with anyone and had never let anyone try it. He reached down with her still in his arms to pull the covers back before laying her down, the softness of the memory foam instantly making her understand why he talked about his bed so much. She turned onto her side and she breathed in, calmed by the scent of his shampoo in the pillow. She looked up to him as he turned away to kick off his boots, and she watched in silence as he shrugged off his flannel and pushed his jeans down, leaving him in his boxers. It must have been an easy twenty minutes with the vampire, she couldn't see any new marks on him as she admired his back.

Dean turned back to the bed and sat down on the edge facing her. "Is this okay?" He asked as he looked to the space in the bed beside her. They'd only ever shared a bed once before, on a hunt when the motel only had one room left with two beds and no couch. Sam had taken one bed and had left Dean and [Y/N] to share the other. They'd both been a bit self conscious about it and had kept a distance between them, or as much a distance as the motel bed allowed. It was a bit awkward in the morning when they'd woken up face to face. Sharing a bed now was a choice, it was intimate, it was more than a hug or a shoulder to cry on. When she nodded, Dean lay down beside her and pulled the covers over both of them before pulling her over into his chest. "Wrap your arms around me". He murmured into the top of her head after gently kissing her hairline. She did as he said, and he shifted them so she was completely on top of him, her legs either side of his waist. He began to lightly massage the back of her neck with one hand while stroking her back with the other.

She'd stopped crying, and she gave herself permission to relax on Dean. She'd never felt so cared for before, so surrounded by affection. Dean's chest was warm, and even more comfortable than the memory foam mattress beneath them. She felt needed in this moment, like he wasn't doing this just for her. She felt like he was holding on to her like he needed it too, and he did. She felt safe, secure, and more than anything, wanted. They both knew that in this moment, their friendship had changed. It was no longer just friendship. They knew they'd have to talk about it in the morning, but for now, the two of them just enjoyed each other, holding onto one another until they drifted off to sleep.

The end

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softstarlite · 5 months

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The Casualty of Love

CHAPTER 4

Summary: He's back home. You have almost forgotten how warm his eyes were and how big your crush for him was.

Warnings: Age gap (Javi is 40 and reader is 27), dry humping, kissing, mentions of mental health, mild insecurity from reader, cockblocking. (let me know if I left out any warnings)

Rating: +18 (a little explicit)

Word Count: 2k

Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Masterlist

A/N: Here's chapter 4 guys!! Hope you enjoy it. None of my work is beta read, so there might be some mistakes or things like that. Remember that english isn't my first language; feel free to help me improve but always been kind.

Javier makes his way through the backyard to where his dad is; before talking, he takes a deep breath “Pops, i'm heading out” the fingers on the hand by his side fidgeting.

“Already Javier? You haven't lasted even two hours this time…” Chucho sighs while putting the plate of barbacued chicken down.

“Yeah, pops, you know I hate these things…” he says, not meeting Chucho´s eyes.

“You didn't seem to be having the worst of times in there” Chucho points to the house with his head.

At Chucho´s comment, anxiety takes control over Javier´s body; maybe his dad did see something, what if he was too lost in your beautiful eyes and lips to notice?

“You both always knew how to comfort each other” Chucho continues after the lack of speaking from Javier “She always knew that you needed to get away from crowds at these things, so when you eventually disappeared, she just would lie to your mama and Maria, saying that you were at the bathroom or something else that would make them not come looking for you”

“Well, it seems we´ve spent way too long apart” Chucho observes that Javi´s feet have started to fidget and he worries “You think someone could drive you later? I wouldn't want to stop your fun” Javier´s eyes finally meet Chucho´s, making his dad even worry more for him when he sees anxiety in them.

“Javier, is everything okay? I don't mind going home already if you´re not fine… it's not like they don't make one of these every week or two weeks” Chucho says, ready to get up from his chair and leave.

“No, no, pops i'm fine, just a little overwhelmed, that's it” he calms his dad, reaching a hand out to stop him from getting up.

“You sure?” Javi nods to reassure him “well then okay, i'll ask someone to give me a ride back later” he looks at Javi as serious as he can now “call Doña Lucia´s home phone if you need anything, the number is on the phone book that's in the kitchen, okay mijo?”

“Yes pops, i will if i need to” he pats Chucho´s shoulder once and then turns towards the fence door to go back towards the truck.

When Javi left the inside of the house at first fear took hold of your body, fear of rejection, fear of him avoiding you in regret of what could've happened if his dad had not come in. Soon that fear becomes anger, at him for just stomping out of the situation without acknowledgment, anger of you or the situation, or both for that matter.

As you said, you´re not a teeneager anymore, you´re not letting him do this, specially him; any other man would be a disappointment but they would just disappear from your life eventually, but him, even if you wanted to get him out of your life, which you think you would never want, it would never work, Chucho was your family and you would never abandon him and your mom was his family as well.

You hop off the kitchen counter, put the beer in your hand down, not caring even the slightest about it now, and go through the house towards the front door. You step out onto the front porch, your eyes survey the front of the house, searching for the truck you´ve known for many years now, through the sea of cars from the people who have come to the get together. As soon as you see it, you walk to it and see that no one is inside of it yet.

You know him, you know he's going to try to run from the situation, so he's going to come to the truck eventually. You lean into the driver's door, crossing your arms over your chest; right now you don't even care about the killing heat from the sun shooting straight at you from above or that your shoes are forgotten somewhere in the backyard.

Your mind goes through a million things you want to tell him when he comes but as soon as your ears pick up on the sound of the fence door by the side of the house, you are not sure what you want to tell him, insecurity hurts your chest. What if he was actually going to shove you back before Chucho came in instead of leaning in?

You can hear him curse when he sees you there leaning into his truck.

“Vampirita…” he says when he stops about two big strides from you, his tone pleading.

“No, don't vampirita me” you uncross your arms, letting them fall at your sides “you´re not running away from this, i'm not letting you”

He takes one stride towards you, but still he's not as close as you want him, as you need him “this,” he points at the air between you “can't happen”

A twinge of pain crosses your chest and one of your hands shoots to it like it could physically take it away “why not?” you know your eyes are already glossy, the fear of rejection you had before is now becoming a real thing. You feel like a little kid right now, and you're hating yourself for it.

“Because you…you are you and i'm me, cariño” he makes the attempt to touch you but he stops himself halfway.

You scoff “what an amazing argument Javier” you take a little step towards him, still leaving some distance between you two “I don't know if you´ve notice, but we are both consent adults”

“Trust me, cariño, i ́ve definitely noticed it'' his eyes can't help to run your body “that is the problem”

“Then…” you break the space between you both, your fingers caressing his upper arm “kiss me, please”

Please, you just said please, to him… Javier closes his eyes hard, feeling the cord of control inside of him tense more and more every second you stand there in front of him, your fingers touching him even over his white short sleeved button up.

“Javi…” he opens his eyes after hearing you “please…”

And just like that the cord of self control snaps; one of his hands goes straight to tangle into your hair, the other takes home in your lower back. His lips collide with yours; the sweetest honey he's ever had.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, it starts slow and sweet, but after a moment it becomes hungry. You open your mouth, an invitation to him, and he can't help but groan as his tongue meets yours.

He feels one of your hands fist the front of his button up by his stomach, the other palm flat in his chest, where his buttons are open.

Javier can't think of a moment that felt more in peace and right in his life, even if guilt was eating him from inside. He has kissed many people during his life but right now he felt like this was his first kiss ever.

You felt fire inside of you. You had thought about what kissing him would be like a million times since you were a teenager but no imagination would ever come close to how the real thing feels like. You feel his entire body pressed against yours, his warm hand on your lower back drawing you more into him, if it was possible; his desire for you reassured by the feeling of his bulge against you.

When his lips travel from your own lips to your jaw and then your neck, you can't help but let a soft moan out. As soon as it leaves your mouth you feel him slightly biting your pulse point. You pull at the curls on the nape of the back of his neck and your hips can't help to seek some friction to relieve the ache at your core; his thigh now in between your own two.

Just after the first roll of your hips, you both can hear your mother calling from you just from the other side of the front door of the house.

“Mija, are you in here?” she asks while pushing open the front door. You and Javier pull away from each other faster than you´ve ever moved before.

“Oh there you both are ¿Tu padre me dijo que se iba mijo? (your dad told me that you´re leaving son?)” she asks Javier when she´s in front of you; Javi hasn't turned around towards her yet, too afraid since the front of his jeans are tented still. Your mom looks between you two with a confused face.

“Si, ma. (yes, mom) I was just accompanying him to the truck in case there was any car blocking the way, you know, to alert the owner if it was the case” you hope your lie is believable enough. She looks at you now.

“Está ruborizada, mija. Debería alejarse del sol un rato (You're flustered daughter. You should stay away from the sun for a bit)” she tells you with a worried look on her face, always the protective mother.

“I will ma” you answer thanking all the gods above that she doesn't question the situation.

She looks at Javier, who is still not facing her, and looks at you again. She mouths to you, pointing with her head at Javier, “is he okay?”. You take the opportunity and shake your head no, better for her to worry a little about him and think that you´re both here because he's not okay and you´re comforting him, that she thinks that you may be doing what you were actually doing just moments ago.

She nods and then says “well, i'll see you another day mijo, cuídese (take care)” she then returns to the party through the fence door.

You know he's fighting against his own mind again, so you talk before he gets the opportunity to convince himself of anything.

“Hey, we haven't done anything wrong. So, stop that thought” you say quickly, grabbing his face between your hands, making him look at you straight into your eyes.

“Yeah? Are you sure about that, vampirita? Because I feel like an asshole that took advantage of the daughter of the woman that raised him alongside his own mom” he confesses to you with an angry look on his face, but you know his anger is not towards you but to himself.

“Advantage? Again, I'm a consenting adult and that was a consented kiss for sure. If anyone would ever be forced into a kiss it would be you not me” you let his face go when you start saying the last part.

His hands are the ones now framing your face “Cariño, i wanted that kiss the same as you if not more” he makes you look at him into his eyes, so you can read him just like always “Dios (God) I'm going to hell” he tells more to himself than to you “I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we saw each other on that parking lot” you can see only truth and longing in his eyes.

You put your hands over his on your cheeks “Well then that makes two of us” you let out a little chuckle “we could try this… keep it between us until we know it´ll work…” you look at him with hope in your eyes.

Javier can't help but let out a big sigh “every bone in me tells me to not let happen any of this, but i don't think i´ve ever been able to tell you no, vampirita” you can't help your face from forming the biggest smile you´ve ever had, you launch into him and wrap your arms around him, then you kiss him again.

Next chapter

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warrior-cats-rewritten · 3 months

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Hey. Semi-Serious post here. I'm gonna be quite frank, this is about the death of a real animal. My animal.

The one I made the dedication of WCR!Into The Wild for. Because the wounds are still so raw that I can barely get through typing this very sentence without feeling choked up. So... If this post isn't for you, enjoy the first cat picture, the rest will be under the cut.

Meet Cleo.

She was my best friend. I moved into her home when I was a child, and her being there got me through the ensuing abusive situation I'd found myself in. I quickly became her favorite person. She was always there for me, and I was always there for her. I read Warriors books to her.

I met someone online that I fell in love with, and planned to have them move here. I worried about Cleo, who was now getting on in her years, but still healthy and strong.

I was granted full, effective ownership of her, since she was never really registered with a breeder. An oopsie, runt of the litter kitten of a genuine bred Maine Coon, unknown father.

Plan fell through, immigrating to Canada is difficult and the economy was about to fall apart. So I made the choice to move to the UK.

I was then informed that I could not take Cleo with me, they said she was too old, and that the plane ride would be too much for her. She was roughly 14/15 years old and, again, healthy. This next part is hard to write.

I spent every day after that, for a year, spending as much time as she wanted with me. She got every cuddle and snuggle she wanted.

I still remember that last time I ever saw her, the night I left the country. I held her like a baby, because she liked that. I remember what the back of her neck smelled like (warm chocolate). I rubbed her belly, and whispered to her that I loved her, and promised to come back again and see her. Then I placed her on her favorite spot on the back of the chair, and left.

I got regular updates from my mom about her, but something was clear. When I was on the phone, I was not to call out to her, because when I did, it made her search the whole house, meowing and calling out for me, looking for me. The dogs never did that, just Cleo.

4 months away from home, she started peeing in... Odd places. Visible places. Like... Middle of the living room and on bathroom rug.

Mind you, she used to do that in front of her litter box as a protest when it wasn't clean enough for her liking. But... Not like that.

Other than that, normal behavior.

Then, about 6 months in, she started being weird with food. Still demanded it, of course, but... Wouldn't eat it. Mind you, there were times when she really was just happy to have the wet food there... And then go off and eat her kibble as if she hadn't just acted like she would die without her wet food. Typical, right?

After a week straight, and not much kibble eaten, it... Was concerning. I offered my mom to cover the cost of any medical bills she would need, but was told to not be 'ridiculous', that she was too old. That she didn't need a vet, that nothing would help.

7 months in. July 7th, 2023. Ordinary day, kinda fun, sunny out, a relaxing day where I wasn't looking at my phone much. My partner gets a text from my mom asking if I am around. I get a call from my mom.

She hadn't eaten in days. She wasn't in her box anymore. She was barely drinking. All her chub was gone, leaving my poor girl at only 5 pounds. A fraction of her weight.

My mom was not calling me to say goodbye. Goodbye had already been said. And I wasn't there.

I asked if my mom could bury her, so at the very least I could have something to visit when I got home.

To get Cleo's body back, it would have cost 200 dollars. She would be cremated, and her ashes not given back either. Gone.

The older woman next to me later said she had never, in all her years, heard a person wail and scream the way I had. I barely remember it, or anything after that. The grief is so bad that I feel chest pains, and my throat will close, I could cry myself hoarse still, just from thinking about her.

On one hand I don't want to feel this way anymore. On the other I feel horrific guilt about that, about wanting to "move on". I hate that term, it needs something new. Moving on isn't forgetting about them, it just means it doesn't hurt as badly anymore, but... What does THAT mean?

Below is the very last picture I have of her.

I'm sorry, Cleo. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I broke my promise. And I'm sorry I wasn't there to say goodbye.

I'll never forget you. I'll never love you any less.

It'll be hard to visit home without you in it.

If you read this post, thanks for listening. I'm really struggling with grief processing, even though it's been almost a year. 208 days as of today. She isn't the first I've lost, she won't be the last, but WCR is partially dedicated to her.

I hope you like the pictures of her, knowing how vain she was I'm sure she would enjoy me showing them off.

Bye guys.

#pet loss #pet death #cleo #tw grief #dealing with grief #not doing it well

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gloomzi · 19 hours

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Okay one of idk how many(I've been asleep all day but now let me send these requests in!)

A more soft/fluff one can be where a afab reader comes out as bigender to emma one day. So it's three months into their dating relationship and the reader takes Emma to a bookstore which the two often did. The bookstore is a small family owned one and they'll go since there's a space in the back set up to just sit down and read like little bean bags and all that, so the two go with each other to just have a little escape. When reading emma notices the reader had drifted off because they had been staring at a page for 3 minutes, which makes emma check up on them. The reader ends up saying something like, "you deserve to know this, but it's one of the scariest things I have to do because I can't lose you" because the reader fear of losing emma is big enough to blind them from the fact emma wouldn't care. So when the reader tells emma, emma just smiles telling them "hey, I don't care for how you look or what you say you are. I like you for you. It's the you in the inside with the big heart, not to you I see on the outside"

(This may be based off me recently finding out I'm bigender and my love for emma🧍‍♂️)

im so sorry this has taken so long 2024 has thrown me for a LOOP...regardless, here's tha fic :3

WORD COUNT 1859

WARNINGS light angst, hurt/comfort, some fluff

When you and Emma had finally started dating just a few months prior, you had never expected an issue to arise so quickly.

Well, issue might be a bit of a stretch, since it was mostly an internal debate on whether or not to tell her, but if and when you did tell her, it could become a real issue and that was what had you stuck.

For awhile now you had been struggling with your gender identity, going back and forth with yourself about what felt right, what labels made most sense for you, playing around with gender expression and so forth. It had taken years and years of unlearning gender stereotypes just to feel comfortable with your own self expression, but now that you had finally found something that felt right, you didn’t know how to come out.

Maybe if you weren’t in a relationship it would be a bit easier—the risk of losing friends over your gender felt a lot smaller when you already knew multiple of them were queer. Hell, even Jordan was genderfluid, but something about coming out to your girlfriend, Emma, just felt so…daunting.

Because what if she didn’t understand it? Or if she stopped being attracted to you because of your gender?

Deep down you knew that was unlikely, she had always been open about her fluid sexuality, but you still felt unsure. Maybe things had changed or maybe she wasn’t as open to other genders as it seemed based on her past partners…they had all been cis after all.

Shaking off your worries, you threw your messenger bag over your shoulder before jerking open the door to your dorm. You had made plans with Emma to go out to your local bookstore, a common date for the two of you, and you weren’t going to bail over what ifs.

In fact, you were starting to think it might be the perfect opportunity to come out…

The bookstore had plenty of corners where you could just sit and read or chat quietly, the atmosphere feeling warm and cozy, almost soothing in a way. It always calmed your nerves to go there after classes ended and kick back with a book, so maybe it would work for this situation too.

Checking your phone, you saw that it was time to start walking over so you let out a heavy sigh and set to it. You and Emma planned to meet around four and if you waited any longer, she’d end up wandering around without you and worrying herself half to death.

Jogging up to the door of the bookstore, you could see Emma just inside past the glass windows, a crisp new book in her hand as she read over the summary. Pushing open the door, the bell above it chimed causing your girlfriend to whip her head up, face splitting into a grin when she saw you had finally arrived.

“(Y/N)!” Emma whisper yelled in excitement, rushing over to greet you with a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “how was your day babe?”

You smiled lightly, grabbing both her hands in yours and swinging them lightly, “It was okay, Em. You?”

“‘Bout the same…just a lot of professors droning on about PR and optics, you know how it is.” She sighed, squeezing your hands before dropping one, using the other to drag you back to a corner of the store, “I brought some homework to work on, but if you want to go find a book before we sit down, go right ahead!”

You nodded, letting go of her hand as she sat down and started pulling items out of her bag, “yeah, let me go find…something. Maybe I’ll be adventurous and try a different genre for once-”

Emma giggled, shaking her head, “Yeah, fat chance.”

You giggled as well, nodding, “yeah, you’re probably right—I’ll be back in a second though, you get started.”

You smiled lightly, stalking off to go take a look at different books in your favorite section of the shop, thumbing over the spines before picking out a few to test read. Though usually you’d take more time to consider which books you grabbed, you were still too caught up in your own head over coming out to Emma.

It almost felt as if it had to be now, as if waiting any longer would be a betrayal of some sorts, like you owed it to her. A part of you, somewhere way in the back of your brain, knew she wouldn’t be mad—she’d never even raised her voice at you—but you were just…inexplicably nervous.

Sighing lightly, you tucked the books under your arm before slowly walking back to the corner where Emma sat, already engrossed in her homework. Placing down the books beside your girlfriend, you slowly sank into the beanbag next to her, watching as she finished typing up a sentence before turning her attention back to you.

“What’d you pick out?” She spoke softly, voice barely above a whisper so as not to disturb the other students in the area who seemed to have the same idea as them. They weren’t too close, but Emma didn’t want to accidentally distract them.

“Some of the usual, you know me.” You chuckled awkwardly, waving the books so she could see that they were the same sort of thing you tended to pick up, at least based on the covers. Emma nodded, cocking her head to the side at your tense laugh, before deciding to brush it off for now.

“Well, why don’t you get to reading? You seem like you need some time to destress…and I’ll just get back to…this.” She groaned, gesturing at her laptop.

You nodded, before leaning back into the plush of the beanbag. Pulling open the first book, you started reading—or at least you attempted to, though your brain couldn’t seem to get past the first sentence, leaving you to reread and reread as you tried to push aside your worries.

It didn’t take long for Emma to notice between your distant gaze, the way you had started chewing on your lip and your previous nervousness. At first she had chalked it up to anxiety about school, or really anything else—you could be prone to overthinking—but usually a good book and some time with her had you right as rain within minutes.

Now she watched as you could barely even read, your eyes trailing over the top of the page, pausing for an unusually long stretch of time, only to retrace the same sentence. She was getting anxious herself, to say the least.

“Hey, babe, you okay? You’ve been reading over the same sentence for like…20 minutes.”

You sighed lightly, closing the book and pushing it aside to wring your hands, “It hasn’t been 20 minutes yet, Em, stop being dramatic…”

Emma pursed her lips, sliding her laptop off her legs to grab your hands and hold them between hers, “not the point, (Y/N). Seriously, what’s up? You’re worrying me.”

“Nothing, it’s just…it’s no big deal, really.” You muttered, shaking your head, staring down at your clasped hands. Could you really risk telling her and losing this? Losing the closeness, the touch, the comfort she provided? The love she seemed to have in abundance?

“Well that’s just not true!” She whisper yelled, smiling at you softly, tucking some hair behind your ear, “If you’re so worried about it that even a book and some me time won’t relax you then it must really be serious, so let me have it. Give me the dirty deets, or whatever.”

You gave a humorless laugh, sucking your bottom lip back between your teeth as you considered just ripping off the bandaid. Tossing the thought around was starting to give you a headache at this point, weighing the pros and cons of just living with it and letting it eat you alive already becoming exhausting. On one hand, she could leave you, on the other hand, if you said nothing it would just continue to bother you more and more until you almost resented her for not knowing despite your silence.

Fuck it, let’s just get this over with. You thought, heaving a sigh before looking up to meet her eyes.

“I don’t know if this is going to change anything and if it does then I’m sorry, but I think if I don’t say anything it’ll just make everything worse and I love you too much to let things fall apart just because I was too scared to say anything now.”

Emma nodded, her brows creased together as she leaned closer to you, allowing you to lower your voice even further so nobody else would overhear your conversation.

“Plus I think you deserve to know…I don’t want to keep lying to you because you mean everything to me, I just don’t want to lose you—I don’t know what I’d do without you, Em, I really don’t so please just hear me out, okay?” Your voice wavered, eyes burning as you blinked away tears.

Emma nodded again, cupping your cheek and giving your face a soft squeeze, her thumb tracing over the skin under your eye like it had done a million times before. Despite your words, how you were making it sound like you were about to reveal the worst secret ever, she was trying to comfort you through it.

God how did I ever end up with someone as loving as you?

“So basically, over the past few months I had the…realization that I’m not- I’m not cisgender. And it’s really been a long time coming, but I didn’t have the right words for it, something just always felt off, but after really biting the bullet and doing my own research, I’ve found that I’m bigender and uh…I use they/them pronouns. I know you’re not like, transphobic or anything, but I’m not sure how you feel about having a partner that isn’t-”

“Sorry, honey, I don’t mean to cut you off, but c’mon-” Emma interrupted, rolling her eyes, as her hand dropped from your face. Just as your heart started to sink to your stomach she pulled you into a hug, your arms crushed against her chest at the suddenness of it all.

“I don’t care what your gender is, you should know that already…gender has nothing to do with my attraction to you, I love you because of your stupid fucking personality and your stupid fucking big heart, you know that right? You have to know that!” She chuckled, pressing her forehead against your neck, feeling your pulse hammer between her eyebrows.

You hummed noncommittally, pulling your arms out from between you two to wrap around her instead, nuzzling into her neck as well, “I suppose I do now…” You murmured.

You could feel relief wash over you like a cool wave, your heart finally calming down as you found peace in her arms again. It was like nothing had even happened, the conversation in the back of your head now that you had her acceptance. That’s really all you needed for all your worries to fade into nothingness.

#icky.fics #icky.txt #emma meyer imagine #emma meyer x reader #gen v x reader #gen v fanfiction #gen v imagine #x reader #imagine

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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years

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hey! I'm relatively new here :3 just wanted to say that I just got back into the kotlc fandom and I'm obsessed with the wings au- it's one of the first not-xreader fanfics I've genuinely enjoyed and gotten so invested in. I love the qpr-ish relationships between the characters and the way you wrote them all! the wing designs are just- *chef's kiss* and the story line behind it too- I could go on all day about it. You've honestly inspired me to try writing my own aus! I was wondering if I could post fanart of the designs? I'd be sure to credit+tag you ofc

You're such an amazing writer!

Oh my gosh this ask is so sweet I legitimately read it and straight up stopped what I was doing for a solid 20 seconds to smile at my phone. I'm sitting here like !!!!! and covering my face

Also welcome to/back to the fandom! It's fairly small overall and relatively stagnant at the moment (the two year gap between books has really changed things), but there's a solid handful of us who are here and refuse to let go :)

I'm absolutely thrilled that you love the dynamics between the characters because I think that was one of the things I was the most...not nervous, but unsure about? Not that I didn't want to do it, because I very much did, but it's generally a different dynamic than a lot of the other fics in the fandom. All the ship fics are wonderful, I was just very aware that I was intentionally flat out ignoring all romance in a fandom that loves it. I wanted to go for a "they're all a family and it's like they've always been a family and they trust each other and are there for each other without hesitation or awkwardness" kinda thing. I have one note from my original layout that just says "(domestic)" when talking about all of them.

The wing designs!! I love them all so much and it was so fun to try and figure out what to do for each of them. I was trying to do wings that were a little more obvious for the characters and wouldn't require anyone to really search up anything to figure out why they had them, more follow a mental association. Like with Linh's dragonfly wings, dragonfly you think water and Linh is a water person! The added detail of her wings specifically relating to dragons was a bonus play on words there, but do you get what i mean about the association? That's what I was going for.

The story line! It has developed so much since I first wrote it there are things happening that I never planned for and things that I meant to do that got completely ignored, but I love where the au has ended up and where it's going. It is still heading towards its original ending, but it's gotten there a different way and with different dynamics and important characters. Like Phoenix (the girl) originally was just a throwaway character from the first chapter that got the kotlcrew out of a sticky situation and made them face some things as they did so, but then someone asked about her and I went...wait a minute you're right why is she there? And now she's got a lot of relevance to like. Literally everything happening.

It's so cool that it's inspired you--if you ever do write/draw/make your own aus I'd love to see them! And if you ever have any questions on how I've made mine I love to talk about everything always, so you'll probably get a lot more information than you could ever want

As for fanart, of course!! I love seeing fanart of the au it always such a delight. Please do tag me, that way I can see it!! It's so cool to see how people interpret the words I've put down because I almost never have a concrete image in my head. I'm just going for vibes and then those vibes become different things to different people and it's so fun to see.

Thank you so so much for all the compliments this ask seriously made my day, I absolutely love hearing peoples' thoughts on the wings au. I was actually just writing for it before I answered this, so have a little teaser quote!!

“Here, this is a good example,” came Biana’s voice behind her, and she whirled back around, watching those flecks of light condense and merge and assemble themselves into the shape of her friend, her sister.

#kotlc #kotlc wings au #shattered upside down #quil's queries #quil's queridos #nonsie #since we were talking about character dynamics I figured I'd include that quote :)#there are many other things that happen in the chapter I'm trying not to outright spoil #but let me just say...lore #wings au lore is happening #i've said it before and I'll say it again but seriously i love this ask so much #thank you for sending it and being so sweet #I hope you continue to enjoy the wings au!!#because things are all starting to come together but there is story yet to be told!!#long post

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subrinaislam · 1 year

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Q&A on Overcoming Agoraphobia

I've learned through my experiences that the world is scary. Can I improve?

With no doubt, you can improve. Since the world and people are not always dangerous, many people who have had unpleasant or traumatic Agoraphobia experiences become locked in this mindset. Numerous individuals and circumstances are either neutral or advantageous. Your ability to selectively attend to information that demonstrates the goodness in the world and the benefits of taking risks can be developed with the help of therapy that teaches people like you how to recognize healthy people and situations. Science demonstrates that those who take chances benefit both in terms of recovery and overall quality of life. They discover that they can bounce back, find new connections, and construct more advantageous circumstances. To stop feeling afraid, please think about seeking treatment.

How do agoraphobia and PTSD compare to one another? What distinguishes it from OCD?

People with PTSD and OCD can stay away from situations that make them anxious. They avoid, however, not protecting themselves from experiencing the trauma again or from coming into contact with the triggers for compulsions, but rather to avoid the physical symptoms of panic. The fear associated with agoraphobia is having a panic attack. In OCD, the dread is of the fixation coming true, but in PTSD, the anxiety is of being traumatized. Only agoraphobics concentrate on avoiding the physical sensations of fear because they mistake them for being harmful; people with all anxiety disorders including PTSD can have panic episodes and avoid places they fear.

Can phobias develop from panic attacks?

People who experience panic episodes may develop phobic avoidance of any circumstances they think can trigger a panic attack, and are consequently considered to be phobic. People who suffer from specific phobias can experience panic attacks, but they are afraid of encountering or seeing things that are related to one particular trigger, such as insects, tornadoes, flying, seeing holes, etc.

What methods can we employ to get past the bodily signs of panic? Do the same methods help with mental issues as well?

The greatest technique to begin overcoming your fear of having a panic attack is through interoceptive exposure, which involves purposefully producing the physical symptoms of panic. A wonderful strategy to increase exposure and regain your freedom is to use real-world exposure to the scenarios in that panic attacks are difficult to deal with, such as driving on a busy highway, traveling somewhere without a phone, or being in a place you cannot simply leave. Learning that panic episodes are benign, self-limited, and a false alarm is the most crucial thing you can do for your mental health. You may learn why all of the physical signs of anxiety are harmless by reading Reid Wilson's book Don't Panic.

Why does sobbing when I'm experiencing a panic attack help me feel better?

Adults weep when they experience a powerful emotion, whether it be joy, rage, or anxiety. We are aware that crying helps us relieve some of our stress by acting like the pressure release valve on an Instate. I wouldn't worry about the fact that you're crying; instead, I would presume that it indicates that you have a lot of anxiety. It's totally common for many of my patients to cry when they discuss or experience their anxiety.

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deardiaryxo1 · 6 months

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Today was quite eventful, and overall, it turned out to be a successful day. Let me start from the beginning. I woke up feeling a bit groggy because I stayed up late thinking about various things. One of my late-night activities included googling some weird things, which I found quite amusing. 🤦‍♀️😅

Unfortunately, my late-night adventure caused me to oversleep, and consequently, I arrived at school late. Being short on time, I had to multitask and do my makeup in a hurry. I knew I wouldn't have time to fix myself up after classes, and I definitely didn't want to risk missing my Prince Charming. 🫠

Speaking of my Prince Charming, during my 10 am routine, I noticed him sitting at a table with his girlfriend, but they weren't engaged in a romantic conversation. To my surprise, they were checking their school books together. I never knew he had such a studious side 😂 He has always had the appearance of a wild child with a hint of hopeless romantic, but seeing him involved in academics was unexpected. 😅

As I walked past them, I overheard him saying, "I will show you; it will be easier once you see me doing it." It seems like he was helping her with her studies. Could he be any more perfect? 😫

FAST-FORWARD ⏭️, after my classes ended, I had to hurry to the restroom. I ran so fast that I started sweating and my makeup smudged on my clothes. Luckily, my dress was made of a material that allowed me to wipe it off easily.

I changed into a new outfit in just two minutes and fixed my hair quickly. My eyeliner had smudged because it was windy outside, so I had trouble reapplying it. I decided to use black eyeshadow instead, and it worked well. I felt confident that I looked good again. 💁🏻‍♀️

When I left the restroom, I saw him standing by a window, busy with his phone. I didn't know whether to walk slowly and let him see me, or do something to get his attention, it would look stupid though 🥲. I ended up pretending to talk on the phone, walking past him about a meter away. I said things like, "Yes, we can do that tomorrow, I'm free."

I PRAYED THAT MY PHONE WOULD NOT START RINGING.🤣

Surprisingly, as I got closer, he looked up at me while putting his phone away. It seemed like he might say something, like “alright?” but instead just nodded and smiled awkwardly. I wasn't sure if he thought I looked foolish or if he was impressed with how I looked. 🥹

I felt my phone vibrate, but it wasn't a call, thankfully. I kept up the phone conversation act for a little longer, just in case. 🤣

Once I stepped out of the school door and was out of his sight, I finally ended my fake phone conversation and checked my phone. To my surprise, it was him! 😳😱😱😱😱😱😱 He had sent me a message while I was walking past him.

Instead of opening the message right away, I decided to wait until I got home in about 15 minutes. It seemed like a better idea to have a calm and uninterrupted moment to read and respond to his message. 🫠

The message was sweet and short “Hey you, how was your weekend break? Any plans for today?😊”

The last bit got me nervous as I knew where this is all going…. So without thinking twice I sent him “Hi there , i am good thanks :) wanted to ask why do you want to meet up so much? You have gf.”

I SENT IT WITHOUT READING.

I felt a wave of regret wash over me, and tears welled up in my eyes. I messed up so badly. The day had started off well, and my plan had worked perfectly until I sent that message. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. All I wanted was for him not to reply, so I could pretend it never happened. 😭😭😭

But if he did reply, I thought maybe I could salvage the situation by pretending I was drunk messaging him. 🤨The problem was, it was only 3 PM in the afternoon, and it would be hard to pass off being drunk at that time. I felt trapped and didn't know how to fix this mess I had created…. 😫

#diary #dear diary #personal diary #my diary #tumblr diary #relationship

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caught-the-lovebug · 1 year

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Hi, I've askednquestions before but I have an interesting one. I struggle with understanding emotions at times but the guy I messaged about before I view only as a friend, in fact he's more like a brother to me now. Any way, my class recently went on our senior trip with a couple other schools. I mwt this guy and we started talking and we became fast friends, we have a scary amount of things in common. We read the same books, listen to the same music, everything. One difference is while I've been hurt in rleationships, he hasn't been in one because he doesn't want the drama. After we've talked for a couple weeks, we had our fitst phone call last week and we chatted for three hours. I opened up to him and he came to my youth group outing friday where we went mini golfing. He kept is attention almost solely on me, never left my side and got a lil protective of me. There was one spot I wanted to jump down but he wouldn't let me cause I have a bad knee and stuff like that. Well all y friends are convinced he likes me because of all these lil things he does, even the friend who has been right so far bout ze guys but I dunno, could it be possible?

The main question, could it be possible? Yes. It absolutely could be.

People often fall for people they share things in common with, the same kind of things that can lead to people being close friends, can lead people to developing romantic feelings. Becoming protective or worrying about someone's safety is also a possible sign of someone liking you that way.

When my crush with Lion started, I often would say "Should you really be doing that?" Or "Dude, no, your medical thing..." He didn't always listen and sometimes it was clear I was worrying over nothing. My feelings towards him made me hyperaware of what he was doing and the things I knew about him.

But! Your guy also might not have those feelings. In school, I had a very close friend who liked all the same things I did, writing, fantasy, music, etc. I cared about her A Lot. I wasn't crushing on her though (I don't believe so anyway). And now, I am this way about most of my friends. I'm a protective person and I store facts in my head about those I care about and want to ensure they're safe and happy.

His attention might be solely on you and by your side because he didn't know anyone else there. Or because he feels a platonic connection with you.

Both crushing and not crushing are possible and without knowing him better or asking him, I can't say which is more likely.

But, I would wager he cares about you and that you have the beginnings of something good here. Three hour chats and shared interests are a great start to any friendship, whether there's a crush situation or not.

#crush #fox gives advice #dragonsadventures

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jettman1970 · 1 year

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Well, it's a new year. I'm excited about my future without Samantha. I loved her dearly and I still do. I initiated No Contact again. Let me tell you what she did to me.

We broke up the last week of June. We were in our couples therapy session. She said it in front of the therapist and was very adamant and made it very clear to both me and the therapist that she no longer had any interest whatsoever in being in a romantic relationship with me. She said we could be friends but that was it.

It was a week or so after that that I came across that YouTube video that finally gave me the answers I had been looking for. From there I watched more videos, read books and online forums. Talked to other people and learned as much as I could.

We remained friends for a month or so after that when she finally cut me off and went no contact and blocked me basically because I had stopped giving her narcissist supply. She had also found and befriended a therapist prior to blocking me. She wasn't an official patient because she wasn't paying him. It was more of a mentorship as I was later told. The way she talked about him I knew she blocked me because I figured this guy was her New Supply. I was no longer needed, especially since I wasn't giving her any supply.

I was miserable during no contact, but I finally knew she is a narcissist and what was going on and I was determined to never see or talk to her again.

September 15. Very late in the afternoon, I'm getting ready to get off work soon. I suddenly hear her text tone. My heart is in my throat. My stomach is in knots. She texted me!?. She's never broken no contact before. Because of the trauma bond she created, I was always the one to do it.

I debated myself for a few minutes whether or not I should respond. Well, I did.

Turns out, she's at the emergency room. She had to have an outpatient surgery that morning. After she got home that morning, she decided to make lunch and she started having chest pains and dizzy and short of breath. She called an ambulance and now she's in the emergency room. She can't talk on the phone because of where she's at, so we're texting only. I finally get off work and go to the hospital. I'm in the waiting room thinking she's going to be admitted and just waiting to go back to see her.

I'm on my phone playing a game while waiting and all of a sudden she's standing there saying let's go.

Turns out she's been there for hours and because she went by ambulance she didn't grab her pain meds from the surgery. The ER wouldn't give her any meds and was basically ignoring her.

She called her surgeon and told him what was going on. We went back to her new apartment got pain meds and went to another hospital that her surgeon told her to go to. He called them and they were waiting for her.

The surgery she had was on her hand. It was a pretty intense surgery and she couldn't use her hand or arm.

I hadn't spoken with her in over a month so I'm trying to piece together what is going on. I asked how she got to the hospital that morning. Turns out, her therapist friend picked her up and took her. He also picked her up afterwards and took her home. She wasn't too happy with him because he didn't cater to her as much as she thought he should have. He basically pulled up to the apartment building and let her out. And he was basically gone before she got into the apartment.

I never met or talked to him but based on things she told me about conversations they had prior to her blocking me the last time, he didn't have a very high opinion of me.

So because of his treatment, she reached out to me. The one person in her universe that she knew would help her. Would come to her aid, no matter what. And I did. I came to her aid. I felt sorry for her. And of course I still love her deeply. She tells everyone that I don't. And creates situations where I'm not able to do or be there for her when she needs it most. All in the name of making me out to be the bad guy and something she can point to and say "See, look how he's treating me. He doesn't care"

So, after surgery, she needs assistance with common tasks. Her son lived with her at the time, so he could do some of it. But, as far as hygiene goes there was no one she felt comfortable enough with having help her shower and whatnot. She asked if I would be willing to help. I of course did.

So after work every day, I would go over to her apartment and help her get a shower, wash her hair, help her get dressed, etc.

I knew from the start that I was just being used. That as soon as she was well enough, I would be gone again. But I couldn't help myself. I couldn't say no. I was compelled to help her.

Within the week of me being back in the picture, her therapist friend finds out that I'm helping her and he pretty much tells her to get bent and no longer is talking to her.

So I'm in therapy myself. My therapist is the same one that she was seeing and is the same one that we were seeing for couples counseling. So she knows both sides. I tell her what's going on. I tell her about the therapist friend. I thought their relationship was kinda inappropriate to begin with but my therapist is now questioning it. The whole patient, client and ethics thing. The whole thing looks highly inappropriate. Dude could lose his license.

Anyway, I'm not happy about helping her. I don't really want to do it. But I feel sorry for her and I know there's no one else that can or will. And I just can't say no.

So, that night, I decided to question her more about the relationship with her and the therapist. I asked her about him violating ethics and whatnot. She said she asked him about that as well. His response was that they were good because they were friends and she wasn't paying him or seeing him for regular appointments. And that their relationship was more of a mentorship because he was also helping her get back into school and get into the psychology field.

She then proceeded to rip my heart out of my chest and stomp it into mush right in front of me. In hindsight I should of left her standing there in the shower and walked out and never looked back. But this fucking trauma bond....ugh. I couldn't do it. Even after what she JUST FUCKING SAID! After she told me what he said, she then told me that he is so supportive and that she's never had good support from anyone she's ever dated. And she deserves a relationship with that kind of support and she's going to find that man.

I'm standing there in the bathroom looking at her in the shower say this to me just after I washed her hair, scrubbed her body and everything else I've done for her. In my head, I'm saying "Do you not hear yourself!?" The only person on the planet that is willing to stand here doing what I'm doing and she has the fucking nerve to say that to me.

I live almost an hour drive from her apartment. After that night on the drive home, I cry like I never have. Thinking about all the things I've done for her. All the times she's shown me how she truly is and I couldn't see it. The realization that I poured my heart into the relationship trying to make us work thinking she felt the same only to get punched in the face like that. She doesn't and never has cared about me. It's so hard trying to wrap my head around that. Even now, months later I still struggle with that realization. Narcissists are the cruelest people on the planet.

She gradually gets better from her surgery and is able to take care of herself again. I'm not needed for showers anymore. Good.

Around this time, she lets one of her very good friendships implode. I don't know why. He's a gay man that she used to work with a while back. They've been friends since I first met her. Although, I never met him, I actually liked him. I think he's a pretty decent guy. He seemed to be a really good friend to her and gave her support when her and I were having issues. I don't know what he really thinks about me. She once told me that he loves me, but he wants to punch me in the face. I have no idea if that is true or not. Narcissists smear people badly. I know she's smeared me relentlessly. That's why I couldn't ever meet anyone she knew. I couldn't even go into the chiropractors office with her once because she didn't want them to know her and I were together. Who knows what she's told them.

Anyway, this guy lives in Florida. I think distance is the only reason we haven't met. I've been with her while she's on speaker phone with him and we've even said a few things to each other. So I don't really know where I stand with him. I've reached out on Instagram,so we'll see.

So there was a miscommunication from what I can tell between the two of them. It started while her and I were no contact but she showed me the texts. Yeah, she blame shifting and thinking he's putting all the blame on her and she's pissed off. She blocks him. I try to reason with her. I say it's just a miscommunication. You should reach out and fix it. But her ego and pride got in the way.

So we're carrying on. I'm trying to maintain a certain distance because I don't want my heart broken yet again.

Somewhere in all this, a couple of Mormon missionaries approach her outside of her apartment. She engaged with them and liked what she heard and they exchanged numbers and are now communicating. She eventually goes to their church, bible studies etc and generally talks about how supportive they all are and that's what she needs. I think, well actually I know, this is New Supply!! I'm somewhat expecting her to invite me to start going with her. Except she doesn't.

I expect the discard to come any day. Except that it doesn't. We end up hanging out sometimes over the next few months, I help her around the apartment building things for her etc. We go to dinner a few times.

She stayed the night with me once. We were intimate. I stayed at her place a couple of times. Once we were intimate as well. I never brought up the subject of getting back together. She never did either. If she started bringing up heavy topics that went down that road, I wouldn't engage. I was treating her as a "friend". I didn't want to get back into it with her again because I knew exactly what would happen if I did.

So we carried on as friends and we ended up being together at Thanksgiving. On into December my boss has a party. I bring her along because I'm trying to get her a job with his wife. Everything is good. I've been getting the sense she wants to get back together. We don't talk about it. I'm not really keen on the idea but I'm not necessarily opposed. I just want to take things really slow and see what happens. I know it's likely never going to work but deep down, I still have this tiny hope that she'll come around. Her son also moved out and back to California during this time.

About the middle of December, a homeless teen is murdered in the hallway of the apartment building next to hers. She's got anxiety and now it's kicking into overdrive. She's only just moved in a few months ago but is now looking for a new place.

This next part, I think might have been preplanned or a setup due to the circumstances. So she's out one morning before work looking at apartments. This is the Thursday before Christmas. Its raining, a lot. She's back in the leasing office after having viewed an apartment. She ends up slipping with her wet shoes and falls on her side. She can barely move, but she's able to get in the car and drive to the emergency room. I'm at work. I now have a new boss that doesn't afford me the liberties that my old boss did. I can't just take off.

She texted me saying she was in the ER. I called her and we talked. She told me what happened and that they might admit her but she wanted to go home but she would need someone to take care of her for several days because she can't move her arm because she landed on her shoulder. She also feels like she has broken something in her hip area. She asked if I had plans for Christmas. I hadn't yet decided if I was going to go visit my kids yet. But I tell her "Not really" She wasn't satisfied with that and asked sternly what I meant by that. I affirm it by saying that I had no plans for Christmas. I tell her that I have to work Friday so I couldn't sit with her all day. She's not happy about it and decided to stay in the hospital.

I don't know what it is but I was mad at this point. I was mad because I'm the only one that will answer that call but in the back of my mind I just knew she was taking advantage of me. My intuition I guess. I had a feeling she was milking it.

She wants me to bring her some things at the ER since she's going to be in the hospital for a bit. So I agree and after work I head to Walmart to get what she wants. When I'm finally able to get there she's upset and says she didn't think I was coming. I give the things she asked for and visit for a bit before they kicked me out and took her to her room. I told her I would see her tomorrow after work. I visited the next night and told her I would see her Saturday. So I stopped by Saturday morning and visited. They released her that afternoon. She ended up not breaking anything. Just bruised and beat up pretty good. She's able to get out of bed and go potty and whatnot.

I'm still under the assumption that I would be sitting with her over the weekend. We get to her place and she lets me do my laundry there. While that's going I find out she's going to church tomorrow. Christmas day. She then tells me that she's going to a lunch afterwards. 🤔. Okay. So laundry finished and I was expecting her to ask if I would stay. She never did. Sent me home. Okay. No problem. She's getting around okay. I'm thinking I'll just see her tomorrow. Christmas morning, I text her a Merry Christmas. She didn't respond for over a half hour. I didn't follow up to her response for a bit after that. I asked her how she was feeling. Sore. She had just gotten done with church.

I then asked her what time her dinner was. She told me. And she then mentioned she had plans after that too and that she's a busy woman.

🤔🤔

Okay, so I asked her what time she was going to be home. "Why?" she asked. I told her I have Christmas gifts for her. She then proceeded to get mad at me. And we texted back and forth a little bit. The gist is, is that she made plans because she never knows about me. I don't communicate. I was just with her yesterday and we could have exchanged gifts then.

She texted me a little while later saying she didn't think she was going to stay long at the lunch because she was hurting. Okay. Late in the afternoon, she texted again saying she wasn't planning on staying that long but she's going home to get ready for her next plans. Which was a date with someone. I assume it's someone from the Mormon church.

So, she milked her injuries enough to get me to commit to take care of her through Christmas. Disrupting any plans I might have had or decided to do just so I could make sure she was taken care of. Never once mentioned that she had plans for Christmas Day. I was actually looking forward to spending a little time with her on Christmas day.

I could have gone to see my kids for Christmas. She knew that, but now, half way through Christmas, she tells me this. So I never got to see her Christmas day. I have no family here. I only have friends from work so I can't exactly pop into their house for Christmas. I ended up spending Christmas completely alone because of her.

Why the fuck didn't she get her date to visit her in the hospital? Take her home? Do those things for her? Why couldn't she invite me to be her plus one for the Christmas lunch? I had her for my plus one at my boss's party. I figure that she didn't have me as a plus one is because she was the plus one or the guy she had a date with Christmas night was at the lunch.

Covert Narcissists are notorious for ruining holidays and special events. I should have seen this coming. I literally can't believe she fucked me like that. Ugh, I'm so fucking mad. Never again.

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lemon-inferno · 1 year

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Remon here,

I've been meaning to vent this out for a while, because I need my own thoughts to get out of my head, so here it is:

This is regarding the former employee of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs that tried to sell Jungkook's hat. And these are just my personal thoughts on it. First, I wanna talk about a hypothetical situation where I find an item forgotten, lost or left behind by a famous person. Okay, so I find this item. First important questions are: What kind of item do I find? Do I know who it belongs to? If yes, do I have the means to return it (as in, this person lives in a different country than me)? If it was me, if it was an important item, like an ID, passport, a phone, I would definitely return it. If I can't do it directly, I would leave it with the authorities who can return it to its rightful owner. If I find a personal belonging, like a hat or a book, something that doesn't appear as important, there's a few options. If I can return it directly, I would. If I have no means or returning it, and my workplace or place where I found the item does not have a "Lost and Found" department (because there's not a lot of places that do anymore, at least where I'm from), then I would probably keep it. Now a few more options open up. First, if the person who lost the item is someone I'm a fan of, then I would most definitely quietly keep it to myself and just take my moment. If it was lost by someone I'm not a fan of, I'd either a) gift it to someone I know, that is a fan, if I know any or b) try to sell it. Now, I wouldn't sell it for a ridiculous price like 7k, but I thought about it for a while and here's what I think I would actually do. First, I'd look up the atual price of the item itself. If I can't, then I'd look at the price of a similar item. I'd most likely try to sell it for about that price and hopefully someone who is an actual fan of that person could get it.

And here goes what I think regarding the real situation, with the real hat. Before anything, if the item was not willingly given to this person, then it's a theft. Whether someone comes looking for what you've taken, it's a theft because it doesn't belong to you. (And yeah, by this logic I just admitted I'd commit a crime, but I'm trying to be honest with myself.) Had it been some ordinary person like me, fine. But the person who tried to do this not only tried to sell the hat at a ridicolous price, but he was also working for a MINISTRY. And in a country like South Korea, that comes with the responsibility of public image and always being an example for other people. It just goes without saying. You're someone high ranking enough, to have been in proximity close enough, to take the hat. And by everything I've read, the hat was lost at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Which means that YOU DID HAVE THE MEANS to return it. Actually, anyone in SK could have probably returned ito by just mailing it to the company. If nothing else, it's disrespectful of Jungkook. It's a lot more, but at the very least, it means you have no respect for the person that you met.

I've read a lot of people (I can't claim whether they're an army or not, I don't know them personally), who say that it's not a big deal and that armys are making a big deal out of it, but it kinda is. How can you work in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs if you don't even have respect for your fellow countrymen? Or if you don't treat clebrities as people? I'm lost not and I forgot where I was going with this, but that ain't it. As a civil service employee, you're supposed to SERVE THE PUBLIC. Which includes idols, actors, models, comedians, any person who has any sort of fame, because they're still a person and part of the public you're meant to serve. So yeah, people are rightfully pissed about this.

On the other hand, I'm not a civil service employee and therefore I serve only myself. If I ever find a hat, I'm not telling you.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #south korea #ministry of foreign affairs #army #remon #remon goes to jail party

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voxmortuus · 3 years

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Stalking Target

PAIRING: Stalker!Hannibal x F!Reader

UNIVERSE: Hannibal

SONG CHOICE: Animals - Marooon 5

WORDS: 1.3k

SUMMARY/PROMPT: Anon Prompt Request: Could I have a Hannibal x reader where he stalks the reader as he finds them interesting, but during the day reader avoids him at all costs bc he makes them feel small. The reader sees him one night and pretends not to know, the next day was an off day and they decide to leave the house but when they come back in the dead of night, Hannibal is there. Whatever happens next is up to you 🤗 thank you very much if you write this!!!!!!

NOTE: I left the ending very open, though non-consensual is implied, it is up to the reader to decide what happens in the end. I tried to stick as close to the request as possible. I felt the reader should be female at this moment, it stuck out to me the most, I apologize if this isn't what you were having in mind, but it's what was flowing through me at that moment. Outfit for reader is linked. I hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warning(s): Stalking | Mild Language | Implied Non-Consensual Adult Situations | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this...

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist | Taglist | PART TWO

REQUESTS: OPEN

Watching, he's always watching. Day, night, he always knows where you are. He's always one to know where to look. Knowing your schedule, it was easy for him, maybe even too easy. You avoid anything during the day- you even got a new job working from home. It was becoming too much, the walls closing in on you.

Today had to be something different; you needed to venture out, to explore, to live. You needed something fun in your life, even for one moment. You wanted to remember what it was like out there; it was this need that you had to fill. Making plans, you were going to ignore him. You were going to pretend you didn't see him. Today was that day.

Waking up, you hop in the shower, follow your morning routine like you do every day. Shower, meds, and vitamins, style your hair, put on some makeup, get dressed. You opt for a cute black romper, a black hat with your favorite black purse with fringe, and black strappy sandals. You let out a heavy breath and look yourself over, nodding- you grab your keys lock your apartment, and head out for your day.

You know he's across the way, sitting reading the paper. A sigh escapes your lips, and you head down the sidewalk to the cafe. You decide you're going to treat yourself to your favorite iced beverage and a pastry of the day, a blueberry cream-filled croissant. Taking a seat by the window, you look down at your phone, looking outside, and notice he didn't follow you. A small sigh of relief fell from your lips.

Why was he so insistent on being around you? The way he made you feel was this tiny, vulnerable thing, and that wasn't what you wanted. You didn't even know how to express that, and the police were out of the question. Your hair on your neck would stand on end, would make your dreams weird, and any noise or knock on your door sent sheer panic through your veins. But today, you weren't going to let that bother you.

After you finished your croissant and decide to head to a few stores, the book store being your first stop, looking for anything interesting. The only thing interesting was the cashier who decided he wanted to flirt with you. You ended up buying something anyway, some Anne Rice book. Heading out with a new book and his number.

After your book shop adventure, you had decided you needed some new leggings. Your favorite store was just a little way down. Stepping in, you look around and smile, shooting a wave to the cashier, and start to browse. You let your day proceed without any worry.

Hannibal had been sitting outside, watching yet not. At this point, it was more of a routine for him. Reading his paper, he had turned the page, reading the obituaries. Chuckling a tiny bit, he looked down at the end of the page and back up to spot that you had left, and he watched you walk away.

Standing up, he folded his paper, sticking it under his arm, looking both ways before crossing the street. Looking up at your building, he makes his way inside and up to your apartment floor; looking at the door, he smirks as he reaches into his pocket and picks his way in.

Closing the door softly behind him, he locks it and finds himself in your kitchen. Taking it upon himself to do your dishes in the sink, a cup, and a small plate. Placing them on the drying rack, he drys his hands off on the hand towel on the stove and puts it back.

Looking around your apartment, he walks further in, observing the odds and ends, your writing on the open notebook by your computer, the photos on the wall. As he continues to walk through your home, he finds your bedroom. Looking over the bed, neatly made, your medications and vitamins sitting on the bedside table. Picking up a few bottles, he arches his brow and places them back down.

His fingertips graze the blanket on your bed as he makes his way to your closet. He stops and watches out the window for a moment. Watching the people outside as they argued, a soft chuckle escaped his lips, shaking his head. His right hand reached out and opened your closet door. Looking at the drab colors of clothing, he closed it.

Eventually, he made his way to the bathroom. Looking over the various odds and ends, your makeup, your face wash, your towels, how neat and tidy your bathroom was. He departed from the bathroom heading back to the living room. Hannibal sat in a corner near no windows and sat there, waiting for you to come home.

Looking at your phone, you decide it was time to head home. 11:06pm was what was read. You catch a cab, and the cab brings you home. Paying your fair and climb out of your car and make your way inside.

Unlocking your door, you walk in, close the door behind you. Deciding to go do your dishes after putting everything down, and notice they were already done. Maybe I already did them. You tell yourself you shrug it off and walk into your bedroom and strip down, throwing on a pair of loose-fitting sweat pants and a loose oversized tank top.

Heading to your living room, you turn on a desk lamp and open your laptop and take a seat. Looking at the bright screen as it powers back on from sleeping, you let out a soft breath. Looking over the screen, you type in your passcode and rub your face leaning back.

You hear a clearing of a throat, and you gasp. Looking around spooked, you see this pair of eyes in the corner of the room; you rub your face again. You are hoping that you imagined things, but that wasn't the case. Hannibal was really here, really sitting in your living room waiting for you.

"What the fuck are you doing in my home?" You growl, standing up.

"Sit down, Y/N. Don't get too loud."

"No, you don't have the right to order me around. Get the fuck out!"

"Don't be hasty, Y/N, take a seat, talk to me." He pleads.

You shake your head and ball your hands into little fists of anger and clench your jaw. "I said, get out!" You yell.

"I told you not to get loud." He gently stated, standing up.

"I DON'T CARE! YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE IN MY HOME! GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!" You scream.

"And tell them what? You saw a strange man in your home? With what you take every day, they won't believe that. Especially if they find no one in your home. So think wisely, Y/N." You didn't like his tone, it was condescending, and it seemed snooty, and you wanted to smack the look right off his face.

"Fuck you, GET OUT!" You scream again.

Shaking his head, he looks at you, "I warned you. I just wanted to merely talk. You wouldn't even give me that. I just want your company." His tone was gentle, soft, and dark at the same time. It was like his eyes went black. He stepped closer to you, and you grew nervous.

Looking at him, watching as he approaches you, your nerves got the better of you. You went running towards your bedroom, but he quickly grabbed your wrist and yanked you close to him as he covered your mouth. You try to bite his hand, but he was quick to prepare for that.

You stomp on his foot, and his knee buckles a moment, but by the time you go to slam your door, he is right at your heels. His hand slammed against the door, pushing his way in, locking it behind him. He stands here, looking over you as you back yourself against the wall. He towers over you, looking deep into your eyes.

"I warned you, Y/N. You really would have wished you listened by the time I'm done with you." Hannibal tells you.

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ethereal-blossom · 3 years

Note

I would like to request a scenario where Dazai and Atsushi comfort a fem reader who is being hospitalized because of asthma. I've been having problems and would really appreciate some comfort. Thank you for reading and thank you if you write for this!

a/n: i hope you're doing much better and even though i'm late, i hope it can still bring you a little comfort or at least some fluff💞

"another job done during the afternoon. we're perfectly on schedule," kunikida said while writing in his book.

dazai rested his hands behind his head. "too bad. i purposely went slow on them."

"yOu- i don't care. the job is finished right on time and.."

the sound of dazai's phone kindly interrupted his partner from ending his sentence. dazai grinned when he saw your name on the screen. "ah, that's y/n! she must have felt how annoying you became and is now calling to save me." your significant other picked up the phone and greeted you lovely.

however, he could easily sense that something was off by the way you said dazai's name. "i need you. dazai, i- i need you. i'm at the hospital." you started to sniffle.

even though dazai's heart was painfully bonking against his chest, he mentioned to stay calm. "love, calm yourself down. tell me what happened."

"i had an asthma attack this morning and even my inhaler couldn't help me. the doctors said they want to keep me here for a few hours, just for my safety. and i know you're working but- i need you, dazai."

dazai, who became numb after he heard how unsafe you must have felt in your own body, added warmth to his voice when he said he would come immediately.

kunikida looked at his partner. "dazai? is everything okay with y/n?"

as response, dazai turned his back towards kunikida and started to walk away. dazai tried to make his voice sound unbothered. "she needs me. you have to finish without me today."

now, kunikida would have yelled at his partner if it wasn't for dazai's facial expression. he and dazai didn't always share the same ideas, but kunikida could tell dazai was not the one to mess with if the spark in his eyes had died.

and kunikida was right. dazai ran the minute he was out of his partners sight. you see, behind that numb expression hit fear, the forever fear to lose the one person who made him see the worth in living.

after dazai had stepped out of the cap, he had taken a few seconds to collect his feelings. showing any sense of worry, panic or fear wouldn't do both of you any good. he had to show his casual charm to convince you that everything was going to be all right.

so, when dazai walked into your room his face was decorated with an attractive smile on his lips.

yet dazai found himself unable to talk seeing how vulnerable you looked. words weren't needed though. the spark in your eyes when you saw him made him convinced that his presence was enough to make you feel assured.

"you gave me quite enough of a good reason to leave kunikida alone, love. although i do appreciate the sacrifice, i prefer for you to not do that again."

you smiled. "i'm glad i could be of service to you."

dazai took a sit next to your bed and grabbed your hand softly. his thumb carefully stroke your skin. "is there anything we could do to prevent a situation like this from happening again?"

"one of the doctors will discuss it with me later in the afternoon. thankfully, my symptoms have decreased. so, it's going to be okay."

your significant other started to stare intensely into your eyes, not breaking any eye contact with you. dazai brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

"in that case, don't scare me like that ever again or i might keep you next to my side forever. and trust me, kunikida is a pain in the ass to have around."

you smiled. "everything is better when you are around."

dazai closed his eyes and he allowed himself to smile for a second. when he looked up at you again, his eyes held softness in them. "you must have lacked a lot of oxygen to think that."

"or you have a lack of common sense to not realize it's true. at least, for me it's true."

dazai bent over you and put his hand on the place where your heart was hidden. "it was worse than i thought. i'm glad i came on time. i should give you mouth to mouth now it's not too late."

"i don't think that's how it works-"

dazai's lips tenderly brushed yours. "that's exactly how it works, my love."

and he kissed you.

"is it coming up yet?" dazai asked.

atsushi let out a soft groan. "i don't mean to sound ungrateful, dazai, but- isn't it your task to fill in these reports?"

"oh my- atsushi!" dazai gasped. "don't tell me you want to tell me that you try to tell me that you don't see this as an important learning process?"

"no, no! i- it's very informative. i have almost finished it." atsushi blushed and started to type ahead. your significant other was almost done when his phone started to ring.

"you might want to take that one immediately, atsushi. it's y/n," ranpo announced.

"oh? then it must be very important." and undoubtedly, ranpo was right. it was your name that appeared on atsushi's screen.

"hey y/n, is there anything you need? ranpo said that you-"

"please, can you come to the hospital? one of my asthma attacks was really bad and- i want you here with me, atsushi."

atsushi's eyes widen from shock. "of course i'm coming. immediately. it won't take me long. just, tell me that you are okay?"

after you reassured your significant other that you were okay he finally hang up.

"dazai, ranpo, i have to go. it's y/n. i have to be with here now." and with that, atsushi ran at full speed out of the armed detective energy building right to the hospital.

it took all of atsushi's strength to walk calmly into your hospital room. seeing you lying there so vulnerable- a protective feeling blossomed in his chest.

"atsushi!" you said while holding your hand out to him. "you came."

atsushi immediately grabbed your hand carefully. "of course. how are you feeling, honey?"

"much better, but still a little frightened."

atsushi squeezed your hand in an attempt to make you feel less alone. "i understand, but you are okay now. i'm here with you. what did the doctors say?"

"that they want to talk to me before they release me. probably to discuss what happened and how we can prevent it from happening again."

"good. i'm glad."

you looked at how atsushi's thumb started to caress your hand. a smile appeared on your face. finally, you felt peaceful for the first time since the asthma attack happened. "that feels nice."

atsushi blushed but kept continuing his action. "it's what you always do to comfort me. i guess- i guess i took it over from you."

"oh, really? what else did you take over from me""

your significant other hesitated for a moment. "well, you always caresses my cheeks."

"show me." and so, atsushi did. his touch felt soft and tender, like he was afraid you would break beneath him.

looking into your eyes, it triggered something in him; the desire to have you always with him. "this may never happen again, okay? i- i don't think i can handle it when this happens again."

"i promise."

"good."

"maybe we should seal it with a kiss? you know, to make it official," you innocently teased.

atsushi again started to blush, but without hesitation he kissed the tip of your nose. atsushi's felt a rush of warmth spreading through his body when he felt your hands cupping his cheeks. and when he felt your lips on his, he felt like he could finally allow himself to calm down.

"promised."

#bungo stray dogs #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #atsushi x reader #atsushi x y/n

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

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I’m On Fire [Chapter 2]

With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

Chapter Summary: Y/N and Spencer start to put a plan together.

A/N: I’ve got a head cold at the mo’ but I had to get a covid test just in case so I’m not allowed leave my room till I get the results! So enjoy a bonus chapter while I wallow on my own for like 36 hours :( On a positive note, thank you guys all so much for the response to chapter 1 I really didn’t see that coming! I’ve tagged everyone who asked, let me know if you wanna be added

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: Cursing, some NSFW language/themes

Word Count: 6.1k

Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

"Are you coming up or what?"

The question was still ringing in my ears. It caught me completely off guard. 'Up' as in up to Spencer's apartment? Where he lived? I knew he lived somewhere in theory, just like I knew deep down that he wasn't made in a test tube.

Without noticing I've undone my seatbelt and I'm hopping out of the car, following him around to the front door. I guess I am coming up.

Spencer's apartment is more cosy than I thought it was going to be. It's warm and lived in. It's not big, but I think that might be what makes it homely. Something about the way he behaves had me thinking it would be fully decked out in stainless steel or glass or something. But it wasn't pristine, it was messy.

There were books bursting from the shelves that lined the walls of the apartment, along with books laid open over nearly every surface in the place, it looked like he was in the middle of reading all of them, and honestly, I didn't doubt it. Maybe I'd misjudged him. He even had some photos of what looked like his family, and maybe friends, even some of the BAU, lining his walls or propped up on his mantle. He had little trinkets and souvenirs on his shelves too, evidence that he'd been around the country for reasons other than a case. I would never admit it to him but there was a real charm to the place.

Once we got inside he took off his bag and suit jacket, tossing them on the desk just inside of the door. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, and he seemed to pick up on my awkward energy.

"You can make yourself at home" he said, his confident streak remaining. I had no idea what to do with that. What would even make me comfortable in Spencer Reid's apartment? I took a seat on his sofa and just sat with my hands resting in my lap. Really not even sure where I should look without feeling like I was invading his privacy. Even though I wanted to. I think it was morbid curiosity, looking for clues on who this man might actually be outside of the BAU. What I really wanted to do was stand up and walk around, soaking in every bit if this place as if it would help me decipher our messy relationship.

He returned to the living room a few moments later, two mismatched mugs in his hands. He places one in front of me on the coffee table. I pick it up and take a sip. It's lemon and ginger, how did he know what kind of tea I liked? I held the mug in my hands inhaling the steam in an effort to relax. When I look up he's watching me, arms folded across his chest.

"So, how does this thing work. What's the game plan?" I honestly have no real idea. This evening really got away from me, I was still expecting to snap out of it and wake up in my bed at any moment.

"Well I can't say I've ever been in a Sandra Bullock movie before either so this is uncharted territory for me too" I say with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. Even a little. I can see him crack a small smile but hides it almost instantly, his face hardening again.

"My sister, Margot, she's getting married in like 4 months." I can feel myself tense and I shake out my shoulders, I have to remind myself that he's agreed to this already, "Fuck it, I'm just going to be honest with you. My Mom's mostly freaked out that I'm too attached to this job and that I'll just never find someone again." I shouldn't have said again, fuck. I hope he didn't pick up on that. Who am I kidding. "Even though, I'm not sure I care if I do or don't?" he doesn't say anything, like he's waiting for me to continue. I know I've shared a little too much already but I keep going.

"Margot's 2 years younger than me, I introduced her to her fiancé Philip, we met in college, he's a sweetheart. But since they've gotten engaged Mom's gotten exponentially weirder. I think she's convinced I'm fully going to die alone, as if that would be the worst thing that could ever happen? Anyway, she's been trying to auction me off to all these guys, using this wedding as an excuse. I'm not sure how much of that phone call you actually heard earlier but Mom was trying to sell me on this guy, David, and I just… snapped." I look up at Spencer and he unfolds his arms, leaning in ever so slightly coaxing the story out of me.

"David, he uh, he worked for my father for a while back in high school, filing documents and stuff, busy work mostly. He used to make out with me when he was at our house after school, but then he'd ignore me in the halls the next morning. I know it's because I was a pariah back then or something but I didn't want to think about it today and I just got worked up. I shouldn't have let on that you were my date, I was just going to ask if I could bring Garcia or something, and I'm sorry." I cover my face in my hands, "I'm insane, you can back out if you want to."

I can hear him move from his spot on the opposite side of the sofa, he takes my wrists and gently pulls my hands from my face. He looks into my eyes, "I'm in this now Y/N, what do you need me to do?" he asks, and there's a genuine earnest in his voice that I think I've only ever heard a handful of times. And it's never been directed at me.

"Okay, well we've got a few months before you ha–, wait, fuck!" I throw my head back, there's already a complication, "shit" I curse under my breath. His eyebrows knit together, sitting upright.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"I forgot about my Mom's 50th, it's next month. They've got this whole huge party planned back home in upstate New York. I've gotta go and they'll probably want to meet you, or they're gonna have a load of questions for me at least. I can try and get you out of it I'm sure"

He gets that cocky look again, he shakes his head "I don't know, I've always liked a bit of competition" he reclines back into his corner of the sofa, taking a satisfied sip from his own mug before speaking again. "You know, if I've got to learn enough to pass as your boyfriend in a month, surely that means you've got to learn enough to pass as my girlfriend within the month, no?"

Oh god. What have I done, why didn't I think this far ahead. "I mean, yeah I guess you're right." I had to remember he was doing me a favor. I had to get over myself. "Okay, if you're sure you're up for that?" I ask, and he nods, and I think he looks excited, or maybe he just finds the whole situation funny.

"If anyone's up for the competition it's you" he says, and I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a dig but I nod in agreement.

He takes another sip of his tea, collected and relaxed. I can't help but notice how at ease he is when he's in his own surroundings. I'm so used to seeing him sitting at a desk surrounded by paperwork, or combing through file after file in the make-shift office in a small-town police station, usually flustered or anxious, or antagonizing me whenever he wasn’t. This was a different Spencer. Completely in control, at ease.

"Alright, shall we get started then, we can't really afford to waste any time can we?" he was actually sort of right, so I nodded. It was only now occurring to me that I'd have to share parts of my personal life with him if I wanted this plan to work. We already knew the basics about each other, I'd read his file when I started at the BAU, I'd read everyones. And I feel like it was safe to presume he'd done the same.

His eyes bore directly into mine as he leaned forward, I think he was enjoying how uncomfortable I must've looked.

"How about I ask you some rapid-fire questions and you have to answer 'em?" he asks, and it's as good of a plan as any, and I can't think of any other suggestions, so I nod.

"Okay, shoot." I say, unsure and nervous, so I brace myself. I'm just grateful that he's making my life easier rather than harder for what feels like the first time since I met him.

I really should've known better.

He leans in, "So Y/N, first question, when did you lose your virginity?"

I almost choke on the mouthful of tea I just took, that can't be what he just asked, and he looks like he's savoring my shocked expression.

"I uh, I don't think you need to know that?" is all I can get out.

"Really? You think that's something your boyfriend wouldn't know about you?" he's right, but I didn't want to admit it outright.

"I feel like I sort of already hinted. It was that same guy David, I was 18, he was 19. We had sex on the couch while my parents went out one evening. I kept my bra on the whole time, he came, I didn't. It was all very standard stuff." I wasn't sure what compelled me to add that last part. I think I was giving in to the open honestly thing. "So what about you Doc?" I challenged.

He didn't seem embarrassed, or even shy. "I must've bloomed little later than you" he admits with a soft chuckle, "Vivian Stewart, I was 21, she was too. It was the last semester of my last PhD and I figured I must be missing out on something. And I sure was" he smirks to himself. "I came, she did too, 3 times. I did a lot of research ahead of time" he mirrored my story and I rolled my eyes. It was hard not to feel a little impressed but I tried with everything I had to stifle it so he couldn't tell. I wish it didn't make me feel something but it did. I gulp down the mouthful of tea that's been sitting in my throat.

I have to shake myself back to reality. I can't give him the satisfaction of throwing me. "My turn." I command, "When was your last relationship Dr. Reid?" I ask, "I mean like, serious one, not like hook-up" I clarify before he can ask. He thinks on it for a moment.

"I'm not sure what you classify as fully serious, but I guess it was this girl, Rebecca, we dated for a while when I first joined the BAU but it didn't work out. What about you?" he flips it back.

"So that was what, like 6-ish years ago?" I ask, he just nods.

"Mine was like 3 years ago now I think. I met this guy Nathan on my first week of college, we dated for like 4 years. He moved here for me when I got accepted by the BAU." I had to stop myself from delving into the detail. It was a long time ago now but it still hurt. "Long story short, the hours were demanding and they got in the way more than I would've liked. We ended up splitting a couple months after I got the job." I tried to play it off like it wasn't one of the more devastating things to happen in my life. But something told me he’d registered that, so he didn't push.

His energy picks up and he looks at me with a grin, but there's something a little sinister behind it. "I've got a more fun question for you." he leans in closer to me, "Y/N, when was the last time you got laid?" I just looked at him in shock.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I can go first if you really need me to?" his voice didn't waver,

"Fuck you Reid, I know when it was!" I snapped back at him. I did have to think back a little farther than I'd like to pull up the memory.

"Met this guy in a bar when I was out with Pen one night, we went back to his place and hooked up." I say as deadpan as I can make it.

"Well that's not very exciting is it?" he jokes, "Did you at least cum that time?" I know he's just trying to rile me up, but I answer anyway.

"As a matter of fact I did" I earn back a little of my confidence.

"I'm so happy for you, but you did manage to avoid my initial question" fuck "when was this exciting night of yours Y/N?" he probes, like I really, really wished he wouldn't. I could lie, but I'm sure he'd be able to tell. I cringe before I can say it.

"About 8 months ago" I mutter, just low enough for him to hear.

"Sorry, did you just say 8 months ago?" He nearly shouts in disbelief, he seems to find it funny.

"Hey fuck you Spencer!" I go on the defensive, "When was the last time you even got laid?"

"Like two and half weeks ago" he says, confident, and still laughing, "Wait wait, when was the last time you got yourself off? I know you're not waiting 8 months!" he giggles and I think I could kill him. I know I kept giving him outs but was it too late for me to just get up and leave?

"I'm not doing this with you if you're just gonna make fun of me Reid, I get enough of that at work" I get out, my voice is serious but I'm trying to hide how awkward all of this is making me feel, and I don't know that I'm doing a very good job.

I can tell that's gotten to him, he relaxes and eases up on the giggling. "Look okay wait Y/N. I'll stop, I'm not actually trying to make fun of you. I was being serious, I think stuff like this is important if we're gonna have to be comfortable around each other enough to seem like a real couple. Plus, it'll just help break the ice?" he shrugs. "But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

I soften, because I agree, even thought I hate that he's right. "Fine" I collect my thoughts, "2 nights ago I'm pretty sure." I regret it almost instantly, but breaking the ice is supposed to feel awkward.

"Same here actually," he chuckles, "what'd you do?" I'm so startled by the question I almost forget how to answer.

"I, uh, my, my vibrator? I just felt like uh, I watched some..." I still can't force out a whole sentence. It's not like I was always awkward about sex or anything, I could talk to Garcia, or honestly probably any of the other team members about it. But with Spencer it didn't feel as comfortable. He still sat calmly, smiling just a little.

"Same here, 2 nights back, but with my hands I guess. I wonder if we were doing it at the same time?" he mutters the last part gently and my head goes a bit fuzzy. My eyes drift away from his face and settle on his hands, the mug he's holding looks so tiny with his fingers wrapped around it, I wondered how they'd look wrapped around my-

"Okay I think that's enough for one night, don't you think?" I jump up off the sofa and turn, mostly so that he doesn't catch the blush thats creeping from my neck up to my cheeks. And because I don't know what I'll say, or regret saying, if this conversations continues on its current trajectory.

"Sure," he says, standing up next to me, and I want to move further away instantly, "you're probably right, and it's getting a little late now anyway" he glances at his watch. Ushering me back towards his front door and opening it up. Before I can walk out he lightly touches my shoulder to turn me back to face him, and I wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from every part of me.

"So are you free next Friday after work?" he asks, and I'm so flustered I almost forget why, I just nod. "Perfect, how about we come here again and we can dive into preparing? You could also make a start on getting these onto a hard drive?" he gestures to the antique looking hardbacks adorning the shelves.

'Sounds great!" I perk up, feigning enthusiasm, "See you then!"

"Well, see you Monday morning actually Y/N" he smirks as I walk out the door. Fuck, he was right.

I really hadn't thought this through.

——

The weekend was a bit of a blur. I decided to try and put some useful information into a document for Spencer. It felt strange to try and condense my life into as few pages as possible. I knew Reid had an eidetic memory, and nothing would necessarily overwhelm him. But I also knew that he was someone that the team relied on to fill in a lot of the gaps in the rest of the our knowledge. So I felt bad about dumping a load of information on him, especially considering it was a favor he was doing for me.

I'd complied the majority of my life into a 15 page document and printed it out. Hopefully that would address most of what my family could guerrilla attack him with. There was also something unsettling about the imbalance. I was going to give him so many of the intricate details of my life in a little file, whereas all I really knew about Spencer was what I'd taken it upon myself to learn about him throughout the past few years.

I'd read all of his work while I was in college, given how he was the gold standard of getting into the BAU at a young age, I wanted to know who this guy was. I think I'd pictured something different. And I couldn't deny there was something enticing about finally getting to know him after all of these years of working together. Maybe this could actually be fun, or interesting at least.

----

I arrived early on Monday morning. I thought I was first into the office as usual but Garcia was sitting in my desk chair waiting for me. The second she saw me walk in she tensed, she must've known we were the only people in this early.

"What happened! You've been avoiding me all weekend?" she asked, and she was right. I'd drafted enough texts to her, trying to explain what the plan was, mostly without wanting to admit that she was right. Maybe I was stubborn.

"Alright okay, I drove Reid home." I admitted, dropping my bag by my desk. She rolls her eyes at me, dramatic as always.

"Well I knew that already Y/N damn! What happened next?"

"Fine, we went into his apartment and talked for a while. Trying to sort out the details, get a handle on things I guess?" I said, unsure of how much I should actually give away about our conversation.

"What things!?" She shouts, standing up from my desk,

"I don't know Pen, like logistics and stuff, I still haven't decided how I feel about that little stunt you pulled on Friday night!" I let my frustration get the better of me, and maybe that's why I haven't talked to her. It could also be because I know she's able to read me like a book and I'm not even sure how I feel about this whole situation.

"I call bullshit." She counters, "I know you were relived as hell when I sorted that whole thing out. You would've had anxiety tummy all weekend if I hadn't called Spencer!" I just go silent, she was right. I'd gotten so caught up in the whole, 'how to have a fake boyfriend' that I'd almost forgotten about how stressed I was about Spencer hearing my call in the first place.

"Okay, shit" I sigh. "Maybe you were right Pen. We're actually meeting up again this Friday after work to make a plan for the next while, so I guess that's progress?" I shrug, trying to play it off like this whole situation doesn't make my stomach flip.

"Ohhhhh! So like a date?" She probes, her enthusiasm rising drastically.

"Oh my God Pen no! Like an appointment at best" I diffuse the situation

"Ugh that's no fun" she says, not even trying to disguise her disappointment.

As if on cue Dr. Reid walks through the double doors into the bullpen. Both Garcia and I wave, overall awkwardly, but making an attempt pretend like things were completely normal and like nothing had changed since the last time we were all in the office together.

Penelope heads to her office as the bullpen starts to fill up quickly. Less than an hour later though Garcia's back at my desk and there's a new case that needs the teams attention in Boston. I follow her into the conference room and wait for the rest of the team to join. Spencer follows a moment later with 2 cups of coffee in his hands. I can see my mug in his hand and my automatic response is that he's messing with me. But he places my mug in front of me in the circular table before taking the seat next to me, listening to Garcia's briefing. I don't know if he's ever sat next to me in this conference room, at least not by choice.

I barely had any time to finish my coffee before I have to say goodbye to Garcia and hop on the jet to Boston.

----

The case was grueling. More so than usual. It was wrapped up late on Thursday night and the team decided to fly back home first thing on Friday morning. I was exhausted. Even if there was enough time to get sleep each night it wasn't like I got any. Whenever a case got on top of me like this it made it hard to rest, or get it off my mind at all until it was wrapped up. So even though it was over, that didn't mean I wasn't exhausted.

Hotch gave the team the rest of the day off, given that we have until submit our paperwork by Monday. I wasn't sure if Spencer's invitation from the following week still stood. I didn't want to ask, partly because I was so tired, but also because I was scared. I wasn't about to show up at his house in an effort to have a heart to heart, or hand him a condensed version of my life story on a manilla envelope if he was as drained as I was.

Standing by my desk I packed up everything I'd need to get my paperwork done over the weekend, I was just about finished when Spencer snuck up behind me, perching himself on the edge of my desk. "So, you almost ready to go?" he asks, like it's the most obvious question in the world. I couldn't really hide my surprise.

"Oh yeah. That's fine, I mean, if you're still cool with that?" I ask, and I hate how flustered I sound, like he makes me nervous.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" He chuckles, standing up straight.

"Cool, gimme a sec and I'll be good to go."

I pack up the rest of my stuff quickly and we make our way out. There's something that feels a little eerie about the two of us being in an elevator together alone again. It was a different kind of awkward to how it felt a week before hand. It almost felt like a kind of tension rather than a hatred or a rivalry. Either way we rode down in silence.

Once we got to the basement Spencer walks out of the elevator and walks straight to my car without having to ask. I unlock it and he hops into the passenger seat. Like this is a natural interaction. Something we do all the time. And I don't hate it as much as I thought I would.

"So," he says, buckling up his seat belt and breaking the silence, "do you know how to get to my place from here or do you need directions again?"

"Well I've got to turn on the engine first" I tease, hoping he picks up on the reference to our last car ride, he chuckles like he does.

"Are you hungry?" he asks

"Starving."

The delivery guy get's to Spencer's apartment at almost the same time we do.

---

Once the food's been demolished the two of us finally sit on his sofa, the same sides as the week before. "So, shall we get back into this?" He asks, sitting forward slightly to pull a notebook out of his satchel on the floor. It's small and lavender, and it's got a pen clipped into the spine. He cracks it open and flips to a specific page.

"Sorry, what's that?" I ask, pointing to the book, he looks confused,

"They're my notes?" he says, like it should be obvious

"Your notes?" I ask,

"My notes on you." he smirks, again like I'm silly for even asking.

He had notes on me? He had a whole notebook on me? What was even in that thing?

"You've got notes on me?" I ask, my hands reaching out to grab it, but he retreats faster than I can catch him. "What have you got in there that's so serious?"

"Nothing." and his tone's a bit too stern and I don't really want to push it when he's being so uncharacteristically nice to me.

"I've actually got this ready for you" I pull the file out of my own bag and toss it to him. "I'm not sure exactly what you need to know but that should be the majority of it at least."

He opens it up and glances over the the pages. It takes him all of 2 minutes to get through the whole thing. It feels unsettling that he's taking in a boiled down version of my life while I'm just sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. Trying to avoid the attention I pipe up.

"Um, hey, maybe it would be a good time for you to show me where to make a start digitizing your books over here?" I stand up and make my way to the shelf. He jumps up off the sofa and walks toward me, visibly excited.

"That's actually a great idea, I thought that the theses from my degrees could be a good place to start, since I'm pretty sure they're not backed up anywhere." he guides me to a section of the book case by the window. There's a series of leather bound hardbacks, the same gold font embossed on the spines. I recognize all of them, pulling out the first one.

"This is my favorite" I say without thinking about it and he does a double take, clearly thrown.

"You've, uh, you read my work?" he asks, completely puzzled. I'm sort of proud that I've managed to make him this awkward, and I nod.

"Mmhm, back before I joined the BAU actually. Before I really knew you" I regret saying the last part, it comes out a little meaner than I really wanted it to so I back track. "Spencer, I read all of your work while I was in college, you were like the gold standard. I don't think I slept more than 2 hours a night throughout my PHD because I was just trying to get as much done as you." and his face softens at the admission. But it takes him a moment before he responds. Leaving the two of us in silence a little too long.

"I had no idea" is all he says.

"I think this one was best" I say propping up the one in my hand, "you get a bit cockier as you move on” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "but I'll start with all of these I guess" I grab the matching books and stack them in my arms. Walking over to his desk and setting up. Glancing at the clock it was only 7pm so I decided to just make a start.

Spencer didn't contest. Letting me just get settled at his desk, I pull out my laptop and begin work on transcribing the first volume. After a few minutes he silently places a cup of tea down beside me and goes to sit on the sofa. The time rolls in quickly after that, each time I look up at Spencer he's carefully combing through the file I'd given him. Re-reading it and making little markings in his lavender notebook. I'm not really sure what I put in there that was worth making a note on but clearly he was reading between the lines on some things. That little notebook was like a profile of me.

When he seemed like he'd finished writing he pulls out his phone, scrolling through it aimlessly like I'd never seen him do before. It made him look so normal. His eyebrows knit together as he's looking at something on his screen and he stands up. Making his way over to me at the desk and shows me what he was looking at.

"Who's this?" he asks, "This guy you're with?"

I recognize the photo instantly. It's from a few years earlier, Nathan and I on the beach, my head resting on his chest. He'd taken it while we were on vacation celebrating our anniversary. That was about a month before I got into the BAU, I had no idea that was going to be our last anniversary. I gulp down the emotions that it stirs. I'm mostly over the whole thing by now, but looking at old photos like that, photos of happier times, it can still sting.

"That's uh, the boyfriend I was telling you about last week. Nathan, we broke up not long after I joined the BAU?" he nods, but he's smart, and I kind of figure he already knew that.

"Ah alright" he takes out the hardback and jots another note down. Maybe he's trying to get a read on me.

"What are you doing?" I gesture to the phone,

"It's research, do you not think that if you and I were really dating that stalking your social media profiles would be on my agenda?" he's smug, and he's right. But I guess I just didn't expect it from him.

"Well that's not really fair now is it? I can't reciprocate, you've got no social media presence whatsoever!" he finds that funny, letting out a deep chuckle and tucking his phone away in his back pocket.

"Maybe so, but that imbalance is hardly my fault. Besides, you've read all my dissertations apparently..."

"Bastard" I joke, slamming my laptop shut and throwing a pen from his desk at him so that it lightly bounces off the top of his head.

"Hey, there's no need for violence Y/N!" he rubs the spot beneath his curls, "Maybe it's time you took a break actually?" he says, sitting himself back down on the sofa.

I was reluctant to admit it but he was right. My eyes were starting to go a little fuzzy after looking at the screen for so long. I stand up and stretch my arms out above my head, feeling my spine stretch out after sitting for so long, letting out a low groan. Spencer waves me over to the sofa and I join him.

"How about we go back to basics?" Spencer asks with a small grin, and I can't help but let out a long sigh.

"I thought I was taking a break, no more questions" he just laughs at me,

"Relax, you're not that interesting, it's just a simple question." he states, and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to find it funny or offensive

"Ugh, fine, shoot"

"Well, actually it's two questions" he corrects, "what's your favorite movie, and what's your favorite snack?"

I'm confused mostly by the fact that it actually is a simple question, I was expecting something a lot more contentious, but also because he looks eager to know the answer.

"I'm not really sure what my favorite movie is to be honest, one of them is Night of the Living Dead?"

He nods to himself, and jots it down in the notebook again, "Alright, I can make that work" he stands up off the sofa before turning back to me, "and snack?"

"Peanut butter cups I guess?" I respond and he grins ear to ear, which is a completely new sight, and I like it way more than I thought I would.

"Perfect, gimme 2 minutes!" he leaves the living room and wanders towards the kitchen.

Spencer returns a few minutes later with a DVD, a packet of peanut butter cups , and a thick knitted blanket gathered in his arms. He drapes the blanket over me and gently places the peanut butter cups on top of it before popping the DVD into the player and sitting down beside me. I'm not really sure how to process any of the situation. Am I about to watch a movie on Spencer Reid's sofa? Sitting next to Spencer Reid?

"I... I, uh, thought you were just asking for your notes?" I ask, pointing at the notebook resting in his lap. He picks it up and throws it onto the coffee table.

"Sometimes I find experience is the best teacher, don't you?" he asks before pressing play, “And besides, it should keep you quiet for a whole 96 minutes” of course.

I can only nod in agreement, I'm not really sure what I'll say if I try to speak. I get myself cosy under the warm blanket and we watch the movie in near silence.

Once the credits roll Spencer finally speaks up, "I actually went to see a screening of this last month downtown, there was this little old horror movie fest-" I cut him off without really realizing, I'm just strangely excited that we've genuinely got something in common.

"Holy shit, I was there!" I say, more enthusiastic than the situation calls for.

He laughs at my excitement, "Well, I guess we have more overlap than I thought, that should probably help with the whole charade." he stretches his arms up over his head and let's out a small, gentle yawn. I'd been enjoying myself more than I thought I would, or would ever tell Spencer, that I'd almost forgotten that we'd both been on a case for almost every waking moment of the past week. I really should feel a lot more drained than I do.

I was just after midnight when I suggested that I head back home. I offered to take some of the books home to work on throughout the weekend but Spencer insisted that I just work on them whenever I came over again. I sort of felt like I should thank him for the evening when I was on my way out the door, or give him a quick hug, no that felt wrong. In the end all I could really muster was a lousy, "goodnight" and a meek wave on my way out the door before I drove home. And couldn't get to sleep.

— —

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

Text

The Purest Things-A New Home

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

a/n: this is a repost considering it didn’t show up in any of the tags yesterday. have i mentioned how much i despise tumblr sometimes :) again, i want to give a special shoutout to @avengersbau for giving me a second set of eyes on this one.

word count: 2k

warnings: canon-typical violence and descriptions of injury.

The Purest Things Masterlist

gif is not mine! credit goes to @hqtchner

au! october 2007

Bookend: “It’s never too late to become who you want to be. I hope you live a life that you’re proud of, and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald

++++

"I am SSA Hotchner. Welcome to the team Agent Y/L/N," his voice reminds you of the transatlantic accents of Hollywood stars of old. The kind you used to hear in the old black and white movies you would watch as a child.

"It's an honor to be here sir," you stare directly into his brown, soulfully deep eyes.

"J.J., get us started, please," SSA Hotchner suggests.

Sitting down, you look to the screen that displays the frightful footage of bombs detonating in various locations.

"Yesterday, an 81-year-old woman was severely injured when a bomb exploded in the toilet of a women's restroom," J.J. informs.

"Interesting spot to hide a bomb," Agent Prentiss sneers.

Jennifer flips through the slides and shows another bombsight located in a subway station, "Last year a similar bomb that had been attached to a phone box detonated. No outstanding injuries were reported. However, the bombs' similar makeup alerted detectives to dig into other bombings throughout the years. They have positively identified attacks over the past twelve years as perpetrated by the same bomber."

Spencer adds, "His M.O. is similar to George Peter Metesky, better known as the Mad Bomber. He terrorized New York City over a period of 16 years. He planted bombs in theaters, subway stations, libraries, and offices. They were left in phone booths, storage lockers and restrooms."

"Do you think we are looking at a copycat?" Derek questions.

"If we are, we need to stop him soon," declared David.

"He's escalating-becoming bolder and more vicious," you say, scanning the report.

"Tell Boston we can be there by 9:30," Hotch notifies J.J...

++++

"It seems like he's a textbook paranoid schizophrenic. People suffering from this disorder may think that other people are regulating them or plotting against them. They tend to be reclusive, antisocial, and obsessed Hwith hatred for their presumed enemies," you twist a loose string from your shirt around your finger, unwind it, then repeat the process.

It's a nervous tick you developed over the years that has worn down numerous tops before achieving their intended lifespan. You glance at Agent Hotchner, seeking a sign of approval. His eyes meet yours, and he poignantly nods.

Did I say too much? No. Don’t overthink this. They can probably smell fear.

"In his letters left at the bombsights, he uses words like 'broad' and 'chick' to signify women," Dr. Reid chimes in.

"Do you think the unsub is motivated by hostility towards women? "

"It's possible," he continues, "These speech patterns age him significantly, however. Phrases such as these were mainly used in the 30's, 40's, and 50's."

Agent Hotchner begins to delegate tasks before the jet lands, "Morgan and Reid, I want you to head to the bombsights and see if you can't work out the motive. J.J. and Prentiss talk to the victim's families, determine our victimology. Y/L/N, Rossi, and I will head to the precinct and familiarize ourselves with the lay of the land and see if we can't formulate a geographical profile."

++++

At the precinct, you observe Agent Hotchner's ability to singlehandedly transition an entire police force's obligation to under his jurisdiction.

"Captain Moreno, this is SSA David Rossi and SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N," the Unit Chief introduces you.

The captain tilts his head at you, "Aren't you a little young to be in the FBI? How old are you anyway?"

You nail him with a you're-full-of-crap look.

Everyone gets to be young once; your turn is over, old man.

Choosing to take the high road, you say, "I'd like to get my hands on the bombers handwritten notes. There has to be something in those letters that can give us a clue into the who, what, when, and where of this case."

Skeptical of your request, he narrows his eyes and looks to David and Agent Hotchner.

"You hear her," Dave exclaims, "Lead the way!"

Your enigmatic smirk no doubt gives away the great pleasure Dave's gibe brings you.

++++

"Agent Hotchner," you hand him your preliminary geographical profile. With his arms crossed, he intimidatingly peers into your research.

Don't burn a hole in my paperwork; I worked hard on that.

He is impressed by your work, taking in your comprehensive outline of proof that details the unsubs point of origin. For someone so young, your attention to detail puts even his most observant profilers to shame. "How did you come to this conclusion?"

"My family is from Chicago. When I was little, I used to read through my grandfather's old newspapers that he collected throughout the 1950's. On the jet, I knew some of the phrasings that Dr. Reid was using sounded familiar, so I cross-referenced it with some of the particular articles I remember from my childhood and found his wording to be exact iterations of the Chicago Crier."

Without taking his eyes off of the paperwork, he commends you, "Impressive use of your prior knowledge. Often, the information drilled into us through education is lackluster compared to that of real-world experience."

You turn to walk back to your makeshift desk when he calls out to you, "And Y/L/N, call me Hotch."

Your shoulders relax from the tension you hadn't even realized you'd been clinging onto, "Alright. Hotch."

++++

You immediately regretted your decision. In pursuit of the unsub, you had wandered off down an abandoned subway tunnel and cornered him.

"Harold Watts, FBI. Gently place the remote detonator on the ground," You shout. Grappling to keep your gun from slipping between your clammy palms, you grip the weapon tighter.

Ordinary people's first days of work are uneventful; they're given a series of mundane tasks at most. Me? Of course, my first day involves being secluded in a subway tunnel facing down a man decked from head to toe in explosives and wires.

"D-don't come any closer. I have my finger on the trigger! I'm not afraid to die, and I will not hesitate to take you up in flames with me," he stammers.

The stampede of footsteps, no doubt from your colleagues and half of the Boston police force, resonate through the echo chamber you're standing in. Watts spooks and loses his balance. You begin shouting for the people behind you to stand down.

"The tracks are live, one wrong step, and we all blow up. I repeat, stand down!"

Turning your attention back to Watts, you attempt to soothe his irrationality. You slowly return your gun to its holster, raising your hands up in surrender. Hotch yells something unintelligible from behind you, but your focus is on the unsub and trying to prevent any more casualties.

"Harold, let's just talk this through for a couple of minutes. My men behind me will leave us alone. It's you and me now. Before this, you never wanted to hurt yourself. You wanted to be heard. All of your life you felt like you were forced into the shadows, and you began to fester there in your pain and rage."

He tenses up; you have his attention now.

"Those girls who teased you and ripped your masculinity from you needed to be taught a lesson. But you didn't just stop there; you decided to do all women a favor and demonstrate to them the kind of pain they could cause, hoping to prevent them from making the same mistakes. In fact, you helped me to see what I can do better. I never want to make someone feel the way you did."

"Y-you learned that...f-from me?" Harold quietly sobs.

You nod, "Yes! Yes, Harold. And you can still be heard, but not if you die today. I could be your greatest advocate. If we walk out of here right now, think of how famous you could be. Harold, you will never be stuck in the shadows again."

It is crucial to your survival and your teams that you are brave just long enough to analyze the situation and keep your self-control. Panic won't do anyone any good right now.

Your mouth dries as you await Harold's next move. Suddenly, he hunches over, extending the hand gripping the detonator. Pausing for a moment to be sure he isn't making any drastic moves, you promptly hurry to his side and gently pull it from his clutch.

As the police officers and your colleagues rush to your aid, Harold looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

"Make me famous," he murmurs with a grin that churns your stomach.

Hotch ushers you away from the unsub, backing you up against the wall of the tunnel, "You actively defied my orders."

Searching every inch of his face for an accurate reading of his emotions, you are unsure of how to respond.

"I'd like to think it won't happen again," his eyes studying you just as intently.

You swallow hard, aware of the lump in your throat and take a deep breath, "You have my word, Agent Hotchner."

"Good," he affirms, eventually freeing his hold on your arm.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief and relax your spinning head against the wall.

Opening your eyes, you observe your new team tieing up all loose ends. They're safe. You are safe. Despite this first day not being as mundane as others, you wouldn't have it any other way. This feeling is what you signed up for, and it's already fulfilling you in ways you couldn't fathom before stepping inside the BAU office this morning.

++++

Aboard the jet, you tuck your legs underneath you and open up a book to read.

A cup of steaming hot coffee appears on the table in front of you.

Hotch sits across from you with a similar cup and offers you a subtle smile, "Impressive work out there today. I'm sorry your first day of work couldn't be more eventful."

A joke? I didn't take him as the joking kind.

Rolling your eyes, you put on a disappointed tone, "God...if you guys drag your feet like this every day, I might have to consider a transfer."

In a more serious nature, he asks, "How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I guess. You were right, you know, no amount of studying or lectures can truly prepare you for what it's like when you're staring into the eyes of a killer. I've learned the negotiation techniques and memorized the textbook 'put the gun down' speech, but all of that flies out the window when you're in the moment."

"You will find that improvisation at times is the key to success in this job. Just know that this team is a family. You will never face this alone or be at a loss for anything. Your career is in its infancy, but I can tell you have a long and triumphant journey ahead of you. We will do whatever we can to ensure that you are at home here and can use this team as an opportunity to refine your abilities. All I ask in return is that you work with us, not against us. You have nothing to prove. They see your resourcefulness. So do I. You are one of us now."

Some gazes are the promise of protection; his is all that and more. The words "at home" resonate in your mind. You've spent your whole life searching for a home, and here it is, its doors being opened to you. After a lifetime of running from place to place, perhaps this is where you can finally settle down.

"Get some rest," Hotch whispers to you. And with that, you lean your head against the chilled window and shut your eyes.

++++

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franny-writing · 3 years

Text

Fiery Red Pt.4

Gif not mine*

taken from my Wattpad book

Masterlist

━━━━━━━ ⟡ ━━━━━━━

Just like with Jughead, Jasmine has been staying at Sweet Peas for the past few days. The always-fighting duo was unsure how to feel about the situation. Even though it seems likes Sweet Pea hated her guts, he still wouldn't feel right about her sleeping in the streets or in a home where she felt unwanted. So he sucked it up and offered up his couch to her.

As promised, Sweet Pea came up with a set of rules for her to follow while she was staying with him. When she first started staying over, she was given a piece of paper with this set of rules.

"Okay, here are the rules as promised," he said while handing a crumpled-up sheet of paper to her.

Jasmine scoffed while taking the paper from him, "No good morning Jasmine? What about a, how did you sleep? My personal favorite is, would you like some coffee?" she sarcastically asked, her not being a happy morning person. All he did was turn around, ignoring her comments, and walking into his room. Jasmine rolled her eyes and flipped him off behind his back, although it wasn't as satisfying seeing as he couldn't see her flip him off. Jasmine got off the couch and started the coffee pot while looking at the dreadful paper.

1: Do not go into my room for any reason

2: Do not touch anything that belongs to me, I will know

3: Do not touch my food in the fridge, I will invest in sticky notes to put on containers

4: If you need any feminine products, ask toni for some

5: No parties will be thrown

6: Rules could be added by both parties

7: If rules are broken, you will be thrown out

After Jasmine read all the rules, she groaned in frustration. She hated that there were rules she had to follow, she didn't play well with rules. She put it on the counter and took a gulp out of the coffee pot, an action she immediately regretted after she burned her tongue.

Fast forward a couple of nights, Jasmine was currently scrolling on her phone as she was trying to fall asleep. Soon, she heard a loud bang as if someone slammed shut a door and a loud groan coming from Sweet Pea's room. Jasmine took out her cheap headphones and sat up on the couch. She wiped her eyes with her hands, trying to wake herself up some more. "Fucking shit!" was soon heard from the occupied room. She sighed and jumped out of her makeshift bed, which was the couch, and walked over to the closed door. Her first instinct was to barge in, but knowing that Sweet Pea made Rule #1, she stuck with knocking on the door.

"Yo! You okay over there?" Jasmine loudly asked. She heard another bang, this time sounding like someone dropped something, come from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, I'm good. Go away." the man said in a voice that sounded like it hurt to talk. Jasmine raised her eyebrow at this and sighed. Even though she knew she was breaking a rule, she opened the door. As she said, she didn't play well with rules. Once the door was open without resistance, she took a quick glance inside and was shocked to see what was inside.

"Shit dude!" Jasmine yelled out in shock, "what the fuck happened?" Jasmine ran towards the other that was sitting on the edge of his bed, who was also currently glaring at Jasmine for coming inside the room, "are you okay?" she asked as she continuously glanced at his injuries. All he did was glare and wave her off with a flick of his hand, insuring her that he was fine. Jasmine only rolled her eyes and looked around the messy room, "where's your first aid kit?" Sweet Pea rolled his eyes and gestured towards the bathroom nearby. Jasmine nodded and walked over to the bathroom and started looking for the kit. She had found it on the counter, already open with little supplies, her knowing that it was most likely used often. Probably every other day, knowing the man. She grabbed it and walked back into the room where Sweet Pea was waiting. "Sit up," she demanded when she made eye contact with him. He hesitantly listened, not wanting to fight with her tonight. She scanned over his body, observing the damage that was done. Seemed like it was only a few cuts, a bruised eyes, and a cut lip based on what she could see.

Due to her sleep-deprived state, without thinking, she sat on his lap while facing him. "What the fuck? What are you doing?" he immediately asked when she sat on his lap. Jasmine ignored him and opened up the box that contained bandages, q-tips, peroxide, and ointment to help with the healing. Instead of arguing, Sweet Pea rolled his eyes and set his hands on either side of him, not wanting to overstep boundaries by resting them on her waist or thighs. She grabbed the bottle of peroxide and dipped the q-tip in it and started cleaning the blood of the cuts on his face. Once the q-tip met the wounds each time, he would hiss which resulted in Jasmine rolling her eyes. When she was done with the peroxide, she grabbed the ointment. She squeezed the tube and squeezed some onto her pointer finger. She put the ointment on each cut, saving the cut on his lip for last. Finally, she had no more cuts to put ointment on except for one, which was his lip.

She cleared her throat and put some ointment on her pointer finger. She glanced at Sweet Pea for a quick second, who was silent with no arguments and watching her with softened eyes and went back to her task. Once she softly starting putting some ointment on, she felt her heart start to quicken. She hoped to god that the other couldn't hear the change of her heart, even though he was in his own thoughts and wasn't paying attention.

Instead, he was looking at her with a new set of eyes. He noticed things he hadn't noticed before, too caught up in being a stubborn jackass. Thing like the way her eyes sparkled as if you were looking at diamonds. Or the way she would bite her bottom lip in concentration. Or that her hands were freezing cold like ice and all he wanted to do was take them and warm them up with his own set of hands. Or how when she released her bottom lip, it stayed red for a minute. Or how plump they looked and what it would feel like if he set his lips on hers. He wondered if he would feel fireworks like those romance books or chick flicks that he would hear about it.

After a couple of minutes of Jasmine cleaning up his cuts, she was done. She leaned back, still on his lap, and scanned over his face with satisfaction. While she is looking over his face, she couldn't help but notice how handsome he really was. With all their fighting, it was hard to notice anything else except for their insults thrown at each other. Though, with him still looking at her, she took the time to notice new things she hadn't seen before. Things such as how dark his hair was and how soft it looked. She wondered how it would feel like when she runs her hand through it and how he would react if she tugged at the hair on the nape of his neck. She also noticed how even though there was a cut on his lip, it would feel like against her. Would she feel those fireworks that she longed for since she started dating? Or would she be met with disappointment and rejection?

So, with both of them in a state of wonderment, they stared into each other's eyes, both of them searching for answers. Without thinking, he brought his hand upon her soft cheek while Jasmine glanced at his lips every second. He slid his hand back toward the nape of her neck with his thumb still on her cheek, rubbing her soft skin, and pulled her closer towards him. Jasmine complied and didn't resist his movement. She softly sighed, her minty breath from brushing her teeth earlier, hitting his lips. She closed her eyes as he does the same.

#this was longer than expected #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fanfic #riverdale imagines #sweet pea #sweet pea riverdale #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea fanfiction

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