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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

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Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 21:

You were nervous, practically fainting under the pressure as you pulled open the hospital’s front door. The trip to Jaku was fairly easy, only a brief 45 minutes, and in that time you hadn’t managed to calm yourself at all.

You stomach was rolling with nerves- twisting and turning and making you feel so very sick. You tried to reason with yourself, tried to convince yourself to lower your expectations. There was nothing for you to be worried about, here! You hadn’t lied! Or hid anything, or pretended like you were a good person when you maybe weren’t.

Bakugou did that. He did that and he was the reason your eyes were still puffy and why your head still ached. He had things to apologize for- not you.

So why did it feel like all you wanted to do was throw your arms around him and forget everything and just be happy?

The longer you sat with it, the more you thought you understood. Even if he was bad, even if he did bad things, he was still your soulmate. He was still the other half of you and you were selfish- so, so selfish and you couldn’t make yourself give that up. Couldn’t ever possibly make a strong enough argument for abandoning him. You knew that, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It was why you were even at the hospital after all.

You shook your head, trying to focus on the matter at hand.

“Hi,” You greeted, hoping your smile seemed genuine to the receptionist. “Bakugou Katsuki, please, room 427.”

She just looked at you funny, tapping at the device in her ear. “Yeah, I got another girl down here asking for Dynamite? Where’s security?”

You heart began seizing, lungs stuttering with panic as she continued to stare you down. After a long fifteen seconds she spoke again.

“Well, isn’t it your lucky day. Apparently, he wants to see you. What a surprise.” She announced un-enthusiastically, handing you a slip of paper. “Take the stairs to the left, all the way up to level 4, and then follow the instructions on the paper.”

You just nodded in a daze, holding the paper in your shaking fingers and moving towards the stairs. Suddenly, you were even more nervous than before. You pushed open the stair doors, and realized this moment felt bigger than you. Bigger than anything in your entire life. Every singular event and decision had brought you here and the only thing you could do was stare dumbly at the stairs in front of you.

No. You knocked a closed fist gently against your forehead. I’m fine. I’m been waiting forever for this shit. It’s just stupid Bakugou.

You took one step, pulling your shaky legs along with two hands on the guardrail. Another step, only pull. Another step another pull. You were conquering the stairs, and this moment, gaining momentum before you knew it. With feet moving unbidden and sure and careful and climbing, you rise, steps taking you higher and higher until you hit the 4th floor. It’s a maze of hallways from there, a strange puzzle of paintings that all look the same and tiles that are two shades too dark and doctors and people rushing past and shoving, but your feet are steady, one after the other, fast, fast, faster, and you don’t falter. You don’t falter and you walk down another hallway, look at your paper, take a left, walk a little further, look at your paper, take a right, walk further and faster and further and farther, past room 423, past room 424, past room 425, past room 426, turn another corner, rush past a man wheezing in a wheelchair, skid to a stop- room 427.

You heart hammers in your chest- beating against your ribcage and threatening to burst through your too-thin skin. Your breath shudders, fingers shaking as you push the door- push it open, and wider, and widest, and open.

His face is the very first thing you see. It’s all you can see. All the machines and the hospital bed, all the bandages and the IV’s stuck into his skin- they all fade away. There’s just him and his blonde hair and the way his shoulder’s slope and the defined musculature of his arms. He is real and breathing and solid, and so, so, beautiful. Bakugou’s every breath seems to arrest you, keep you in place and strung tight like a live-wire, electricity running trails of fire through every vein- and his eyes.

His eyes that are darker, deeper, duller- less like raging volcanoes, and more like delicate rubies. They’re red. Red like nothing you’ve ever seen before, and startling and surprising, but it’s not an angry red. Not a violent red. You decide then that Bakugou is a soft, dignified red- he’s hot wax cooling over a sealed envelope, like a slowly healing cut just beginning to fade.

Something in you slots into place. You feel it in your mind, in your bones, in your chest. You’re not itchy anymore, you’re not searching. There is no puzzle left to solve and your finally have all the pieces to your soul; no longer aching anymore for something you knew you should’ve always had. Your skin is finally yours- no longer loose and ill-fitting and stretched thin saving room for someone you hadn’t met yet. You felt right- finally. Settled for the first time in your entire life, like somehow, you’d always knew you’d end up standing exactly where you were.

You think Bakguou must feel it too. He nods something almost imperceptible, but his face softens. He looks so sure- so confident as he looks at you. Like he always expected you to be exactly who you were. Like some part of him too always somehow knew this was going to happen.

You’re tearing up before you can help it, rushing into the room and to his bedside.

“What are ya fuckin’ cryin’ for, idiot?” Bakugou huffs, but his voice comes out strained; buried under thick, barely-restrained emotion. “Nothin’ new left to cry about now, stop it.”

“I can’t,” You’re wiping at tears with your sleeve. “After all this time- my whole life- It’s just- you’re- you’re you. ”

“Course I fuckin’ am.” He says. Bakugou then clears his throat, voice becoming much softer. “Always was to you.”

“I-I know. But it’s just- you’re real.”

He can’t say it back, you can see it in his pinched face and blushing cheeks, but Bakugou nods. You know he feels the same.

“It’s- I- I just didn’t think I’d ever be here,” You start, sinking easily into the chair next to his bed. “And after everything I jus-”

“I’m sorry!” His voice interrupts the relative quiet, cutting through like a knife. He nearly screamed his words, and when you look over at him Bakugou won’t meet your eyes. He’s studying the hospital blankets beneath his fingers, folding and clenching them between fingers gone white from the pressure. “I- I mean that. More than fuckin’ anything.”

“I know.” You say.

The room goes quiet again, and any of the calming completeness you had felt earlier seemed to be fading. Suddenly it’s not just the feeling of finding your soulmate running through you, but the feeling of finding Bakugou. Bakugou who is sitting in front of you, injured and weaker than Dynamite and he doesn’t look like someone who could hurt anything or anyone but then you remember that video- that scream, those eyes.

“Just- fuckin’ say it already. I can see your face, idiot.” Bakugou’s voice is authoritative but not pushy. Inquisitive but not demanding. “It’s- I know your holding back, so just fuckin’ quit it already, alright?.”

“It’s- I just need to know. You said, on the phone, that it wasn’t you, in the video.” You close your eyes. If you look at him any longer you think you’ll lose your nerve. “If it wasn’t you, who was it?”

“I-” You watch as his face falls, eyebrows pulling together. Then he’s turning red, wringing his fingers together and casting his eyes toward your shoes instead of your face. “Can ya- can I- I just have to think. Give me a second. I have to make sure I get the fuckin’ words right.”

You nod. Bakugou seems to leave you for a moment, eyes un-focusing and fingers twitching minutely. He suddenly looks up, meeting your eyes.

“It’s- I shouldn’ta said that shit. It was- I did that. Me.” He admits, words tight and strained like they’re hard for him to speak. He’s got a hand pressed to his mouth, head turned sharply to face the window. He refuses to meet your eyes once more. “But- I’m not- I’m tryin’ not to fuckin’ be like that anymore! I’m workin’ on it or whatever. Since then! E-ever since then.”

“Okay.” You nod. “What happened to the person? In the video?”

Your question seems to upset him, and he throws his hand harshly against the bed. Bakugou breathes- eyebrows pinched together tightly until his shoulders aren’t held together so tensely anymore.

“I told you. I didn’t- everybody always talks about that fuckin’ stupid-ass video but it was only the camera!” He grits his teeth suddenly, sharply inhaling and exhaling until his jaw relaxes once more. His eyes still remain screwed shut. “I meant that. What I said on the phone. The fuckin’ person was fine! Wasn’t fuckin’ hurt. J-just scared.”

You want to believe him. More than anything you want to believe him, but those eyes you saw were hard to forget. They almost seemed like they belonged to someone else- like they couldn’t possibly have belonged to the same guy who’d called you sunshine and helped you with your anxiety and cleared his schedule every night at exactly 7:00 PM. The Bakugou you had come to know was so far removed from the man in the video- the scary, feral, thoughtless man who seemed to attack someone without just cause.

You closed your eyes for a moment, bringing your hands together in your lap. He said he was trying- he made it very clear that was true with his careful breathing and the way he asked for time to think about his words first. The Bakugou sitting in front of you was not the same man in the video. His eyes weren’t violent erupting volcanoes anymore- they were slowly crystallizing gemstones. Precious, valuable things still slowly changing into something new.

“Okay.” You nod. “I believe you.”

Bakugou cracks open his eyes slowly, looking intensely at you. Something anxious in his eyes melts away, relief filling his features and settling in the barely-there curve of his smile. His shoulders relax and he takes a deep breath and a crackle, a pop and-

“Did you? Was that-” You point at his palms. “Was that your quirk?”

“No! Fuck no, why would you even fuckin’ say that- obviously not, because my quirk is fuckin’ cool not some shitty, embarrassing, tiny-”

“Bakugou.” You interrupt sternly, staring him down. “Honesty, remember?”

He groans, and flushes. His hand crackles again, something small and dancing just across his palm and Bakugou races to cover it. He then wipes his hands on his hospital gown harshly, turning his entire body toward the window to cover the way he’s still blushing. It doesn’t work though. You see him all the same.

“Yes.” He admits, and he just sounds so defeated, it makes you crack a smile. “But don’t fuckin’ say anything, okay? It’s all your fuckin’ fault, damn woman! Started the first time you called me and I can’t get it to fuckin’ stop no matter what I do it’s-”

“Can I see your hand?”

“H-huh?”

“Your hand,” You reach toward him gently. “I wanna see. Give it.”

Bakugou doesn’t look at you, just raises his arm and jabs it out toward you. The movement is stunted and awkward, like he can’t control his limbs right, and when you look at him his entire neck has started going red too. He waves his extended hand impatiently, urging you to get on with it.

Slowly, so very slowly, you poke a single finger into the smooth skin of his wrist. Just a feather-light touch. A near-weightless pressure against soft skin.

Pop.

You poke him again.

Pop.

Suddenly embarrassed, you pull both your hands to cover your eyes and blushing cheeks, and begin giggling uncontrollably.

Pop. Pop. Crackle.

Bakugou moves so brashly that it startles you, and he’s pulling his hand back to him, and curling it into his chest. He’s using his other hand to press into the crackling one, finally smothering the sound of a last few pops sounding off. When you finally peek between your fingers, he’s somehow redder than before.

He’s adorable and you’re laughing and you can’t stop laughing because he’s shy and embarrassed and so defenseless against you. Every part of you is warm from the top of your head to the burning tips of your toes, your smile spreading so wide that it over takes your entire face.

“It’s-it’s not fuckin’ funny!” Bakugou shouts. “Stop goddamn laughing, you shitty fuckin’ woman! It’s a good quirk! It’s not fuckin’ funny!”

“It is.” You agree, gasping to catch your breath. “It’s a very good quirk Bakug-.”

“K-Katsuki!” He shouts suddenly, interrupting you entirely. He seems surprised at his own outburst, blushing again and smacking his hand against his forehead. He groans. Loudly. “It’s- I- Katsuki. That’s my name.”

“O-oh. Okay.” You say shakily, heart beginning to race once more. “K-Katsuki, huh?”

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Bakugou screams. Just howls something deep and defeated and animalistic from the bottom of his chest. It fills the room, seemingly taking up all the space, and you could’ve sworn the windows were rattling. You start laughing.

“Fuck! Oh my god! You fucking did this to me, shitty woman! You- you’re- stop fucking laughing!” Bakugou is screaming, arms gesturing wildly. “This isn’t fucking funny! Something is seriously fucking wrong with me! A-and and you don’t even fucking care! You just think it’s funny! I’m fuckin’ broken, fuckin’ suffering, and you’re laughing!”

“It’s- I’m not!” You shakily defend, barely able to complete the words.

“See now you’re just fuckin’ lyin to me! Goddamn fuckin’ liar for a soulmate!” He’s yelling, hot air and fire and irritation seeping from his lips. “You know, it’s just my fuckin’ luck too, you know! To end up with such a fuckin’ idiot for a soulmate! Who just fuckin’ keeps laughin’ and lookin’ cute an-”

Bakugou screeches. He throws his hands down on the bed, palm up, full-on miniature explosions beginning to spout from his fingertips.

“What the fuck did you do to me? What the fuck- I-I didn’t say that! You didn’t hear anything! Would you quit fuckin’ laughing at me?”

You just hold your palm up, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. Bakugou stares at it, burning holes so intensely and brazenly, so utterly focused and enraged that it sends you into further hysterics. It takes you a good five minutes to sober up.

“It’s- I’m not. I’m not laughing at you.” You lean forward in your seat, just a little bit closer to the guardrail of the hospital bed. “You just- you make me happy ‘sall.”

Bakugou gags. Audibly. The sound rips from his chest and up his throat and contorts his face.

“Don’t just fuckin’ say that!”

“What the hell?” You ask incredulously, hands flying wildly. “You literally told me you like me over the phone! Literally yesterday! But now you’ve got a whole ass problem with me saying that you make me happy? What the fuck, angry man?!”

“It’s- I didn’t- fuck!” He shouts, voice raising to cover yours. “Stop makin’ me remember all this embarrassing shit! You’re doing this on fuckin’ purpose! I know you are, shitty woman!”

“I wouldn’t make you remember it so much it you just fuckin’ owned up to it in the first place, you coward!” You screeched. “If you already said it, and I said I like you, then what’s the big fuckin’ deal, huh?”

Bakugou suddenly goes quiet, his hands fidgeting with the sheets. He chuckles. “You said you like me. Again. Fuckin’ dork.”

“Oh my god! You’re fucking infuriating! No-no don’t just sit there and fucking grin at me! That’s- stop!”

And truly, you meant it. You wanted him to stop looking at you like that, stop crinkling up his eyes, and most of all stop smiling because you didn’t think your heart could handle it. Everything about him made your blood boil, and every nerve stand straight on end- but it was good too. So warm and comforting and just funny.

He was Bakugou and Dynamite and your Soulmate. All in one, awkward, crackling, loud fucking package.

-//--

ee hav sum fluff ,, as a ~reward~

#bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x self insert #bakugou fic #bakugou series #bakugou soulmate au #bakugou soulmate textfic #bnha fic #mha fic #bnha soulmate au #soulmate au #bakugou imagine

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mads-weasley · 2 years

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Crazy

Robert Leckie x Nurse!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Hey y'all! This is apart of the HBO War Secret Santa 21'! This is especially for@multifandomlover01! Merry Christmas! I hope you like it! As always, the only character I own is (y/n). The rest belong to HBO!

Summary: While in the hospital on Banika, Leckie meets and befriends (y/n), a nurse who's in charge of his care. Taking an interest in the soldier, she discovers there is more than meets the eye when it comes to the charming machine gunner.

Warnings: mentions of vomit, blood, enuresis, tooth rotting fluff?

(y/n) - your name

(y/l/n) - your last name

(y/h/c) - your hair color

Robert Leckie was miserable. No, miserable was an understatement. The constant island hopping and generally terrible conditions were greatly affecting him, as they did everyone else. What didn't affect everyone else, however, was the terrible enuresis he had been suffering from since Cape Gloucester. He would go to sleep dry, or as dry as one could be in the jungle, and wake up wet. This constant cycle was enough to get him sent off the line to a hospital in Banika to help this condition he had been suffering from.

After checking into the hospital and getting stripped for any "dangerous" items he could hurt himself with, he took his place on an empty cot. Looking around at the soldiers in the hospital with him, he soon realized this was a psych hospital for people he thought were crazy. It made sense why they took his belt and razor blades now. His mind kept repeatedly asking himself, 'Why am I here?' He knew he wasn't crazy, so why did everyone else think he was?

That night was relatively hard for the machine gunner. His thoughts were stuck on his current situation and his friends on the front lines. Deep down, he was relieved he was off that horrid island, away from death lurking around every corner. When he did happen to doze off, his dreams drifted to the jungles of Guadalcanal.

He shot awake, glistening with sweat, and felt the all too familiar damp feeling of the sheets beneath him. Swallowing his pride, he told a nearby hospital attendant what had happened, and they said someone would be there shortly. When he heard footfalls behind him, he didn't bother turning around before snapping at the figure, expecting it to be Ruttinger.

"Where were you, huh? You wer-"

A feminine voice cut him off. "You're not my only patient, ya' know?"

"Sorry, ma'am. I thought you were someone else." He said turning around and quickly standing up as his face reddened.

When he laid eyes on the mysterious figure, he felt his heart drop to his stomach. Never had he seen a woman as beautiful as the one standing before him. Not even Vera Keller rivaled her smooth skin and bright smile. Her nurse's uniform was so pristine and her (y/h/c) was styled in soft curls falling from beneath her cap. He's disrupted from his staring by a small laugh.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer....." She prompted for his name, raising an eyebrow.

"Leckie. Robert Leckie. B-But you can call me Bob.""

"Okay, Robert. Here is your new clothes. I'll put on the new sheets while you go change."

The reality of the situation feels like a slap to the face as his already rosy blush deepens to blood red shade. He couldn't believe the first interaction he'd had with a beautiful women in years was when he'd literally wet the bed. He vowed to never tell Chuckler or Hoosier about this, knowing they'd torment him eternally for it.

"I'm sorry ma'am."

She just held up a hand as she started stripping the sheets off the bed. "You're fine. You couldn't help it. Anyways, it's my job. This is nothing compared to some of the other things that have happened to me."

"What....other things?"

"Well, I've been puked on, bled on, and my personal favorite, had crap wiped on me."

Groaning at her last statement, he turned and started walking towards the bathroom to change. "And that's my queue to leave."

The laugh that escaped her lips brought a smile on the young man's face. He couldn't resist the urge to glance back at her small figure.

"Thank you...." This time it was his turn to learn her name.

"(Y/n) (y/l/n). Of course, and goodnight, Bob."

"Goodnight, (y/n)."

With a nod, he entered the bathroom, heart racing. After changing, he expected her to still be there, but she was nowhere in sight. As he settled in bed, his thoughts were filled with the beautiful nurse, rather than the horrors that he had witnessed during the war. He drifted to sleep this way, dreaming of his nurse.

As the days went by, (y/n) had been by several times to check up on the Philadelphian. Each time, they had normal conversations as if they weren't in a hospital on a small island in the Pacific, in the middle of a world war. These talks consisted of talking about where they were from and different things they liked. She loved to read, and they had numerous discussions about which authors were the best.

When he divulged that he was a writer, and many other unique details about himself, she felt something stir inside her. She had developed a crush on the sarcastic and charming soldier. Every time they spoke, both wished it could last forever, but sadly, she did have other patients to attend to.

Little did she know, he was feeling the exact same way. Vera Keller had completely vanished from his thoughts and (y/n) took her place in the forefront of his mind. Surprisingly, they had a lot in common, and her spunky attitude drew him in closer with every word that left her mouth. He couldn't help but smile every time she walked in the room or when she would start talking animatedly about something she was passionate about. There was no denying that his kind nurse could make his heart skip a beat and butterflies flutter around his stomach.

One day, when she went to check on him, he was laying on his pillow, just staring blankly at the ceiling. This was completely out of the ordinary. Normally, Bob would shoot up and make a snarky comment the second the young woman would walk in the room. But that day, he showed no interest in anything. Concerned, she slowly walked to his cot and sat down on the edge of it. She opened her mouth to question him but she was abruptly cut off.

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

She was so taken aback by the question, it took her a few seconds to fully process what had been said.

"Of course I don't think you're crazy." She said in a soft voice.

Finally sitting up and looking over at her, he lets out a huff of air. "Why am I here, then? Why aren't I with the other normal soldiers? I-I mean, there has to be something wrong with me, right?"

"Robert Leckie," she started, gently cupping his cheeks, "You are not crazy. You're just as sane as I am."

Closing his eyes, he leaned into her soothing touch, placing one of his hands over her much smaller one. "How do you know that?"

"I just do."

Both of them started slowly inching towards the other and he softly moved his other hand to push a stray hair behind her ear before placing it on the curve of her jaw. They both knew what would happen next, and neither one cared to stop it. Merely inches away, she could feel his warm breath on her face. She closed her eyes, willing her heart to take control, but a split second before their lips meet, the all too familiar call for a nurse echoes through the hospital.

At the call, both freeze. Robert opens his eyes to see a frustrated look on (y/n)'s normally calm face. As much as he wants this moment to continue, he knows it's her job.

"Go," he whispers.

With a short huff, she takes off running towards the source of the call. As soon as she's out of sight, he flops back down on his pillow, letting out a groan as an unfamiliar voice speaks from beside him.

"So close, buddy. So close."

Leckie turns on his side and sees the owner of the voice on the cot next to him. Chuckling, he realized this guy had a front row show of the whole ordeal.

"Yep. So close." He finally responded.

The next few days, he didn't see (y/n) at all, and he was starting to worry about her. It was during this time that the head doctor gave him the go-ahead to go back to the 1st Marines. He was excited to go back and see his friends, but was also disappointed that he didn't get to share anymore moments with the lovely nurse (y/l/n).

When the time for him to leave had come, he was about to get in the jeep when he heard it. It was faint, but it was there. Someone was calling his name. There was only one person who it could be, and the mere thought of her brought a smile to his face. Turning around with his bag in hand, he saw her running towards him.

Right before she reached him, he dropped the bags and wrapped his arms around her when her body collided with his. Pulling away from their hug, she tugged him town towards her by his uniform. Their lips collided and he quickly placed his hands on her cheeks as they shared a kiss that said a million unsaid words and thoughts. Whistles and hoots broke out around them, but they were too caught up in the moment to care. When the kiss broke, both were out of breath. The driver honked and called out to them.

"Sorry, man, but you've got a plane to catch."

With a sigh, he pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. "You better write me, Nurse (y/l/n)."

"And you better not go crazy without me, PFC Leckie."

"I thought you knew?" He questioned with a cheeky smile.

"Knew what?"

"You're the one who makes me crazy."

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 18 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader finds more productive ways to spend her time, including babysitting Henry and volunteering at the local inpatient hospitals.

A/N: That’s my gif so please give credit if you use it 🤗 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader   Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral (female receiving), addiction, relapse, discussions of death/murder, unsub talk, hospitals, inpatient ward Word Count: 13K

MASTERLIST

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The next morning felt strangely similar to the morning of the day we’d gone to the bank. . Waking up in Spencer’s bed and smelling the unmistakable, comforting scent of old book pages and stale coffee. I’d told him when I first came to his place that it reminded me of a library, but it was more like that quiet local hole-in-the-wall bookshop.

It almost felt like that morning, but there was one glaring difference: Spencer wasn’t in the bed.

When I sat up to try and locate him, I was reminded that there are consequences to my actions. My stomach hurt like shit, and I swore I blacked out for a second from the pain. It would pass, though. Considering I had gotten through the night without waking, it clearly wasn’t that bad.

I thankfully managed to get out of bed myself and take the pain medication I kept in my purse. And armed with the knowledge that the pain would subside within the next half hour, I hobbled toward the distant sounds of… vomiting.

Not even bothering to stop yet, I made my way to the kitchen to grab the poor guy a glass of water. It was the least I could do for his comfort considering that I was about to make his headache much, much worse.

Peeking my head through the open door, I frowned at the sight of my boyfriend half asleep on the toilet.

“Hey old man. I brought you some water.”

Finally looking up, not having noticed me until I spoke, Spencer groaned as he backed up to lean against the wall instead of the dirty porcelain. “God, when did I get this old?”

“Hmm. I’m guessing sometime in the past 30 years.” I hummed, joining him on the cold tile floor. The two of us just rested there, his hand reaching out to take mine with a solemn smile.

“You’re cute.” He mumbled.

“I know, thanks.” I joked back, knowing that I really looked like a whole mess, with my hair desperately needing to be brushed. He never seemed to mind, though. I was glad for the lighthearted domesticity of the moment, because I knew I was about to shatter it like a brick through glass.

Softening my features as much as possible with the anxiety coursing through my veins, I squeezed his hand before finally whispering, “You know your age isn’t the only reason you’re sick though, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He snapped back with about as much hostility as I was expecting. He ran a frustrated hand over his face, his breathing picking up almost immediately as he tried to calm himself down.

“I know you’re just trying to do what you’re supposed to, but please…” The waver in his voice broke my heart and turned my stomach to knots. With more force, he held his hand in the air and continued to stare straight ahead. “Just... don’t. I’ll call my sponsor.”

I tried to keep my voice quiet and nonthreatening as I pushed, but I knew that it wasn’t going to make much of a difference either way.

“We have to talk about it, too, Spencer.”

“No, we really don’t.”

“You’re going to get your chip taken away,” my voice broke in half as the word fell from my mouth, “I know that that’s important to you. We can’t ignore it.”

Speaking faster, our urgent pleas overlapped to create a small cacophony booming through the acoustics of the bathroom. “(Y/n), seriously, stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A silence fell between us, and I let it sit there for a minute. I wouldn’t get anywhere with him if he was defensive, and that’s exactly what he was at the moment. But I wasn’t trying to chastise him; I’m not his mother, I’m just his worried girlfriend. I loved him and I knew something was wrong, and I just wanted to help.

I didn’t know how. The men I loved never made it far enough for me to be able to help.

“You didn’t even tell me you were coming home. We need to talk about that, at least.” I offered the narrowed scope, hoping that he would take it without any more of a fight.

He didn’t. Instead, he took back his hand and turned it to a fist in his lap. That time it was my breathing that became unsteady, and I tried to touch him, but he recoiled when I came too close.

“You didn’t seem to mind me being drunk last night.”

Although I knew it was coming, the words hurt just the same. I resisted the urge to mirror his actions. I wasn’t angry. I wouldn’t be angry, because that’s what he wanted. If I reacted that way, he could write off my responses.

“I’m not going to agitate you or shame you when the damage is already done, Spencer.” I said as confidently as I could, “I knew you needed affection and you weren’t going to ask for it yourself.”

He finally looked at me again, and in doing so, realized he was making a mistake. The anger melted from his face within seconds, being replaced with overt sadness and guilt. “I could have hurt you.” He whispered through the tears that started to fall.

“But you didn’t.” I said with a gentle smile, reaching over to wipe the saltwater from his cheek. “That’s not a very good excuse anymore.”

“It’s always a good explanation.” He clarified, chewing on his bottom lip. His hands released from their tense state.

My fingers couldn’t move fast enough to clear his tears, but he brought his own hands up to rub the tired eyes. I used the freedom to run my hands through his hair, pulling him closer to me.

Resting his head against my shoulder, he let out a deep, shaky breath. I continued slow, soft strokes along his arm, listening to the rhythm of his breath slowly recalibrate. Once I was satisfied with the pattern, I tried again.

“What happened on the case, Spencer?”

The tension returned, but subsided quicker than it had before. He took a deep breath and spoke through the exhale, trying to rid himself of the thought as he said it.

“We had to kill someone.”

My movements paused for a second before I reminded myself to continue, but my confusion remained. “I understand trauma is complicated but… You guys have to do that pretty often.”

Spencer wasn’t the kind of person who liked to share his thoughts. I knew as much; even his coworkers hadn’t seen the parts of him that I’d seen. There was no way for me to know if I knew them all, but I figured that I didn’t. I was almost certain there was a side of Spencer Reid that even I didn’t know. The only reason I didn’t try to figure it out was because I knew he liked it better that way. He designed his heart that way for a reason, and I wasn’t going to try and pry it out of him.

But he was scaring me. He almost never talked about his job, which didn’t bother me when it was obvious that he didn’t bring it home with him. Him getting drunk and defensive, though, were very different circumstances than the usual.

Understanding that there was no other way out of this, he continued to talk, hushed and slow. “I was alone with the guy, and I had the opportunity to kill him, but I didn’t. I didn’t kill him, even though I really wanted to.”

‘I really wanted to.’ The words stuck out in my head, no matter how quickly he tried to bury them.

“But after Hotch showed up, he had to do it. We didn’t have a choice anymore.” His arms crossed over his chest, but he pressed himself harder against me in a strange, contradictory stance.

I couldn’t respond to the most important part of his confession just yet; I knew the story wasn’t over. Like I’d told him, trauma and grief are complicated; however, there was something else he needed to admit before I could address the part of his admission he seemed most affected by.. “Spencer, that’s okay. That’s not your fault.” I reassured, trying to coax his arms away from his chest. I’m no profiler, but I felt like if he stopped trying to build walls, things might be easier. I could at least try to break down the ones that were tangible.

“I’m not worried about it being my fault. I’m worried about how… angry I am.” He said in defeat, dropping his arms back to his lap. He still didn’t want to touch me, it seemed. Like the same hands that had wielded a gun against a man were too tainted to share.

“I’m angry because… I wanted to kill him, I wanted him to suffer for hurting innocent people and —“ He covered his mouth, and I think the motion surprised himself.

I couldn’t help but feel partially responsible, no matter how illogical I knew that was. It felt like yet another morning was being taken away from us by what had happened before. I didn’t want to think about it; I didn’t want it to torture Spencer the way it did me. It was wishful thinking, and the stupid kind, at that.

Spencer would always blame himself and care too much. While he was always trying to work on the former, I hoped that the world would let him keep the latter. His compassion was one of the many reasons I fell in love with him. The thought of losing the man who felt the need to confess to me that he’d lied about checking me out in a crowded club invoked a sadness I never wanted to experience.

Although, the prospect of that loss paled in comparison to the acute sorrow I was feeling right then, holding Spencer while he failed to hold back tears, choking on his words. “I didn’t do it, and then he almost hurt someone else.” He said, his voice growing more frantic as he broke from my hold, grabbing his hair and pulling it like it would do something to stop the thoughts.

“And I’m angry that I wasn’t the one who got to do it. I wasn’t the person who got to kill him.” He spat, rocking forward as I tried to wrap my arms around him again. He didn’t let me, putting an arm out to hold me away from him. Still, he looked at me when he forced himself to say the conclusion that I’d reached the second he told me he had wanted to kill someone.

“I’m angry that I didn’t kill someone, (y/n).”

There were so many things I wanted to say to him that my mind literally couldn’t pick any of them. All I could do was stare at the man I loved, stopping me from doing the only thing I wanted to do. I just wanted to hold him; to remind him that I would love him no matter what. Just like we always did, I wanted my body to express the things that my mouth wouldn’t articulate.

But apparently, I was capable of doing that without even touching him. Because the longer we sat in silence, the more his enraged grimace warped to a frown. “Please, don’t look at me like that.” He begged, unable to take his eyes off of mine. I wondered if he could hear my thoughts, because before I even spoke, he pulled his arm back. “Don’t look at me like I deserve sympathy for that.”

Ignoring the pesky numbness forming in my lower half at the awkward position on the unforgiving tile floor, I thanked the lord that I was finally getting some relief from the narcotics, which allowed me to climb on Spencer’s lap. He’d finally ceased his valiant efforts to keep me away from him, accepting me with his hands on my hips.

When I tried to kiss him, however, he turned his face away with a sharp inhale. Careful not to use too much force, I use a tender hand on his cheek to lead him back to me. His eyes bounced between my lips and eyes, almost like he was asking me to try again.

“I’m not going to pretend you’re a monster to make you feel better, Spencer.” I whispered, attempting to infuse the words with everything I felt.

Whether it worked or not, I could never be sure, but Spencer’s small smile sneaking over his cheek was enough for me. “I’m pretty sure it’d make me feel worse.” He croaked, laughing as he bit his tongue to stop any other jokes from slipping out. Like he was betraying the pain by letting it go.

“Well I’m not going to do that, either.” I returned with a laugh. Then, satisfied that he would accept my affections, I closed the gap between us. The kiss was so soft I could almost question whether our lips touched. But his hands slid over my lower back, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me against him.

Eventually, it became obvious just how tired the both of us were. With a quiet thanks, he rested his face on my shoulder, enjoying the calm after the storm of his feelings that he’d finally released.

“Can you come back to bed?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, holding tighter for a second before he started to help ease me off his lap. “Let’s go, little girl.”

The return to my nickname made me happier than I’d like to admit. At this point, the use of my real name was like a litmus test for his anxiety. And although I could feel Spencer slowly opening back up to me, he still felt so far away when we crawled under the covers.

Turning on my side to face him, I saw something in his eyes that alerted me to just how deeply rooted this problem was. It wasn’t just the event we’d discussed; it was the knowledge that there would be many more like it in the future.

I wondered what Spencer saw when he looked at me. Did he see me like I was in that moment, or was I always going to look like I had before, choking on blood and a confession I wish I could have made more beautiful? Did he see me at all? Or did he just see all the mistakes he’d made? Would all our moments together be marred by the overwhelming tragedy of a single one? More than anything, I just hoped that he didn’t see the faces of the people who had caused us to be in that horrible tableau. I needed Spencer to see beautiful things when he looked at me, because I needed to see them in his eyes. If something so ugly was the biggest thing between us, our relationship would fray with time, each of us unable to truly see the other.

“You’re the best man I’ve ever known.” I said into the silent early morning air of his apartment.

As expected, Spencer’s precarious smile broke almost immediately, replaced with violent sobs and an attempt to hide his face from me by burying it in my chest. I let him, wrapping my arms around his head in the hope that I could act like a shield for the world that never let him rest.

“I’ll love you forever,” I let my voice break, but I didn’t let that stop me. “And nothing will ever change that.”

—————————————————

One of the things people never warn you about when you’re dating a bona fide genius is that there is no such thing as a surprise. It was like every time I came up with an idea, Spencer could see it on my face within seconds. I was never really sure how he did it, although he usually had the decency to wait until a normal person would have figured it out to say something. For example, when we were about three streets away from his best friend’s house.

“Why are we going to JJ’s house?” He finally asked, turning to me with a confused but excited expression that almost hid the residual negative feelings that insisted on sticking around a week later.

I glanced over at him, laughing at the way his fingers bounced on his lap. He never was subtle with his emotions. “I may or may not have offered us up as babysitters so she and Will could have a much needed date night.”

From the way his shoulders dropped, I could tell it wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. Still, it didn’t seem like he was disappointed— he was simply trying to read my motivations that were seemingly counter-intuitive.

“Really? Isn’t that gonna be a lot for you?” The concern was evident in his voice, which I found both endearing and a little annoying. It wasn’t this fault, really. I was just so freaking tired of not being able to do basically anything I wanted to. Especially when the thing I wanted to do was watch my boyfriend and his godson.

“Henry may be well behaved, but he’s still a toddler.” Spencer continued, eliciting a deep sigh from me.

“That’s why you’re here.” I half-joked, pulling into the driveway that was starting to feel familiar. If someone had told me a few months ago that I would become friends with the woman I was angrily binge watching clips of on YouTube, I would have asked them if they had me confused for another girl. But, much to Spencer’s delight, JJ and I never really had that awkward phase. From the second that I met her, I knew that we just wanted the same thing: above all, for the people we loved to be happy. And it seemed we both had a soft spot for the man currently in my passenger seat.

“Oh, running after the kid is my job?” He laughed, already unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling his bag onto his lap in his excitement.

“Yep.” I stuck out my tongue at him, which only made him lean over in an attempt to steal a kiss. I allowed it, if only to bring him within arm’s reach. When he started to pull away, clearly ready to hop out of the car and run to his favorite toddler, I grabbed a fistful of his cardigan in an attempt to keep him closer for a second longer.

“But seriously, Spencer, I…”

He settled into his seat, immediately recognizing the faint tremor in my words. His hand came to rest over mine, and I sighed at the warmth that filled my whole body in seconds.

“I want you to remember that you’re a good person.” I whispered, trying to let him feel how deeply I meant the words, “I know how much you love Henry. I think spending time taking care of someone that’s… not me… will be good for you. And me.”

Those big brown eyes glassed over, glancing down and then away from me as he remembered looking at my stomach didn’t ever do much for his self-hatred. Which, in turn, just made me feel worse. I wondered if there would ever be a day where he could look at me and not feel that way. I desperately hoped that there would be.

Spencer rubbed his eyes to stop any other emotions from spilling out. “Does JJ know we’re using her kid as therapy?” He joked between sniffles.

“She’s a smart lady.” I shrugged, smoothing out the now wrinkled cardigan beneath my fingers. “Besides, Henry said he missed you and it’s hard to say no to him.”

And just like that, Spencer’s bouncing returned, his hand reaching behind him to open the door before he could even open his mouth to speak. “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t keep him waiting, then.”

There was no stopping him at that point, and I trailed along behind him, watching as Henry tumbled out of the front door and straight into my boyfriend’s waiting arms on the porch.

The rest of the night went a lot like that, too. Once the novelty of having me there wore off, and Henry realized that my boo-boo made it hard for me to play the way little boys liked to, Spencer returned to his rightful place as Henry’s favorite babysitter.

I didn’t mind; I was perfectly content watching the two of them. Between the cheesy magic tricks that required a little bit of childlike innocence to be entertained by and Spencer’s attempts to follow along with Henry’s excited rants about cartoons my boyfriend had never even heard of, I somehow fell even more in love with the man.

And even though I had planned this for him, it was restorative for me, too. There was this weird, paradoxical guilt you feel when you’re dating someone like him. Although I know that he wanted to spend every waking second of his free time with me, it made me feel like he was missing out on something else. Something better than me.

It was so easy to forget that we could do those things together. In a way, I could thank my injury for that. When we were limited so much on what we could do together, we had to find creative ways to spend time together that were still stimulating for the both of us.

That being said, in that moment I wished for nothing more than rest. Even just watching the two boys together was exhausting, so when Henry’s first yawn sounded, I jumped at the opportunity. Because, see, Spencer was good at the playing, but I was much better at the cuddling.

It wasn’t like he could argue, either, because while Henry curled up next to me on one side, Spencer was on the other, his arm reaching around to rest on the young boy’s back. Despite picking out the movie, Henry fell asleep against my chest within minutes.

And in the quiet calmness of JJ’s house, I found myself almost falling asleep, too. My head rested against Spencer’s shoulder, moving ever so slightly with each deep breath as my eyes struggled to stay open. That was when Spencer kissed the top of my head so delicately that I almost didn’t feel it.

“I love you, little girl.”

My heart skipped a beat at the sound, and the wave of goosebumps and satisfaction covered me like a blanket. If we’d stayed for even a few minutes longer, I would have fallen asleep right there. However, JJ and Will arrived home just in the nick of time. They tried to convince us to stay, but Spencer seemed uncharacteristically excited to leave, so I didn’t question it even though I wanted to. I took the trip home to catch up on my phone and try to wake myself up enough to spend another hour or so awake with him before I passed out.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.”

I perked up in my seat, not entirely sure if he’d actually said the words, or if I’d just imagined them a little too vividly. But when he glanced over at me, I knew that he was just doing that slightly unsettling thing where he read my thoughts.

“Why? You got plans?” I said through a yawn, trying to stretch within the confines of the car.

“As a matter of fact, I do have plans.”

At first, I thought nothing of the smug way he said it— up until I felt his hand slowly slide up my thigh, the pressure of his fingers increasing when he couldn’t go any further.

“This feels familiar.” I chuckled, my mind transporting me back to our first not-a-date. The sensations caused a desire to burn through me so quickly I became lightheaded, my lungs hungry and desperate as Spencer continued to tease me by avoiding the one place he knew I wanted him to touch.

But, of course, just as I reached down to move his hand, he pulled it away altogether.

“Lucky for you, we’re almost home.”

I audibly groaned, knocking my head back against the seat now that Spencer had succeeded in waking me up. “Sometimes, Spencer…” I mumbled, “I remember why I have to be such a fucking brat.”

“It’s my fault, is it?”

There was a distinct darkness and deviancy in his words, despite the joking cadence they were uttered in. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in some time; a voice that was imprinted so vividly in my memory that even just the thought of it would make me putty in his hands. And I knew that I was reminiscing a lot, trying to relive times that had long since passed, but every time I saw a part of the old Spencer — the Spencer who rambled in museums and demanded I cover up my Lolita costume — the more I felt like my life was finally returning to normal.

“Of course it’s your fault. Have you seen me?” I gestured to myself, swamped in a sweatshirt and shorts like a weather-confused idiot. If the clashing clothing wasn’t enough, my make up had smeared from constantly rubbing my eyes. “I’m an angel.” I concluded, intending it to be sarcastic but knowing that he really saw me that way.

And sure enough, Spencer looked me over for just one second before pulling into the parking lot to his apartment complex. “You’re spoiled.” He decided.

“Doesn’t feel that way right now.” I whined, chewing on my bottom lip as I continued to wait for his attention.

But he just parked my car, leaning over to grab his bag from between my legs. Before it got too far, though, I clamped my legs around the leather. “Stop ignoring me!” I said through a pout, only getting more heated as he chuckled in response, tugging on the satchel until it slid from between my legs.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Spencer’s eyes locked with mine, his other hand grabbing my chin and forcing my bottom lip out from between my teeth. He held my mouth open against my resistance, but as soon as I gave into his hold, he relaxed his grip, leaning forward and pressing a much-too-soft kiss against my lips.

Without even fully breaking away, he turned my head to the side to whisper in my ear, “Get inside and I’ll make it up to you.”

Life was returning to normal. Together we excitedly stumbled through the Langham apartment complex until we got to his door, and he fumbled to unlock it without letting me go.

Everything about the chaos felt comfortable and predictable. I didn’t even notice the dull throbbing in my stomach because Spencer’s hands felt like home. The insistent noise of all my messy insecurities was quieted by his lips trailing down my jaw and neck as we finally crossed the threshold.

“Watching you with Henry, I just...” Spencer began to mumble against my neck, our bodies gravitating toward his room with a complete lack of grace, considering how well I should know the layout by now. We made it to the door, but not his bed, as he pressed me against the wall right on the other side.

His lips were slightly swollen from how feverishly he’d kissed me, his breathing ragged and his hair wild from where my hands had raked through it a few too many times. But his eyes were what really caught my attention, staring into me so deeply that it caused a shiver to roll down my spine. Spencer sensed my hesitance, because he brought a gentle hand to my face before he spoke, quietly but surely.

“I want to marry you one day. You know that, right?”

I thought about before; how those words would have filled me with both a naive joy and overwhelming anxiety. But as I stood there, staring back at him, I felt a genuine smile spreading across my lips.

“We speak in a lot of ‘one days,’ Dr. Reid.”

I couldn’t tell the effect the words had on him, although I had a few guesses. I’d avoided the part of the sentence he’d meant for me to hear the loudest. We both knew I’d heard it. At the same time, I hadn’t denied the idea or given any reason to suggest I wasn’t happy about the statement.

“I’m serious.” He insisted, not ready to drop the subject just yet.

Unfortunately for him, though, I had other plans. As much as the talk of marriage gave me butterflies, there were more immediate needs I wanted him to fulfill. So, without saying anything, I subtly suggested that he put off the conversation and switch to other activities with a firm hand against the bulge that had already formed in his pants.

“God, I want to fuck you.” He immediately groaned, his head lolling forward and resting against mine. I figured that it would be harder to convince him to fuck me now that he wasn’t drunk, but he seemed even more willing now that we’d already made the leap of faith once. Nothing bad had happened to me then, and the dramatic improvement of my mood was helpful for both of us.

So I began to slide down the wall, my hands raking down his chest as I giggled, “Let me help you.”

Spencer’s hands moved so quickly and with such strength that it surprised the both of us. Luckily, he’d grabbed my hips instead of my stomach, halting me before I could drop to my knees.

“No.” He firmly corrected, lifting me back to my normal height before turning the two of us around so that my back was to the bed. “It’s my turn.”

Much gentler now, he helped lower me onto the bed, but he didn’t follow me yet.

“Take off your clothes.” He instructed me as he removed his own.

I listened, watching him intently to try and determine his plans before he actually got to me. But he kept his expressions to a minimum, only giving away his enthusiasm in watching me sheepishly remove my clothing. My shirt was still on when he climbed onto the bed and over my body.

“I want to see you.” There was something pitiful about the way he uttered the words, and my hands hesitated, holding tightly to the hem of my shirt as I avoided his eyes.

“You have an eidetic memory, Spencer. You know what it looks like.”

“I’ll never stop wanting to see you. You’re so beautiful, (y/n).” He used my name, and my body reacted just as quickly as he realized his mistake. Grabbing my arms before I could close them over me, he brought my wrists against the bed beside my head. “You can leave it on for now.”

What he said provided me all the context I needed to know what he was planning, and I locked my legs around him, hoping that I could stall him for a few moments.

“Please, Spencer. Please fuck me.” I begged, arching my back and baring my neck to him, knowing that he could see my erratic pulse in my neck.

“I can’t. Not yet.” His voice was strained, one hand raised so that his fingers could brush over my neck. “It won’t be much longer.”

Frustrated by his undying desire to take care of me, I used my hand that he’d released to grab a handful of his hair. “I want to feel you inside of me again.” I moaned through the words, my heels digging into his back and bringing his hips down to meet mine. I watched as his eyelids fluttered shut, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I want to see the look on your face when you fill me up.” I continued, bucking up in search of the delicious friction I’d been deprived of for months now. “I know what you’re thinking when you do it.”

“F-fuck.” He struggled to lower his hand to hold my hips down, but I could tell he was scared he would hurt me in the process. It was a dangerous game, to ever put me in this position when neither of us had pants on. Spencer’s confidence wavered as he choked on his words, “This isn’t going to work.”

“You can’t think about that if I’m not touching you.”

“Yes, I can.” He responded with no hesitation, his eyebrows raising in a challenge.

“But isn’t it so much more fun when it’s actually possible?” I cooed.

“It’s always possible, it’s just so unlikel— Fuck!” Spencer cut off by his own gasp when I finally succeeded in pulling him against my heat.

The noise that I gave was something between a sigh and a moan, and I swore I saw Spencer’s pupils dilate in response. There were just some things he couldn’t hide, no matter how hard he tried. But my satisfaction was short lived, and Spencer sat up on his knees to place a manageable distance between us.

“We’re not doing this.” He growled through clenched teeth, his nails raking over my thighs before he removed them entirely. “Stop being a greedy fucking brat and spread your legs.”

I waited a second, hoping that Spencer would get impatient and force my legs open himself. But he flashed me a look, warning me that if I didn’t behave, he could very easily just send me to bed without any satisfaction. And as much as I wanted to call his bluff, the idea of going to bed without getting to touch him was so upsetting.

So, I slowly dropped my legs open, running my hands over the skin still burning from where his hands had touched me. And even slower, Spencer lowered himself until his face rested against my thigh, the scruff of his cheek causing a shiver to run up my body.

“Don’t tell me that a few months of me pampering you has undone all of my hard work.” He murmured so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

But the fact that I did was evidenced by my laugh. “That would imply you’ve actually accomplished something to undo, but I’m just as bratty as the day you met me, Dr. Reid.”

He smiled, his eyes focusing on my face as I continued to giggle, now urged on by the way his breath tickled my inner thigh. “Is that right?” He said in that familiar cocky voice. “Because I happen to recall that the first time that I did this, you tried to stop me.”

The blood rushed to my cheeks as my mind replayed the memory of his smirk from when he had held my legs open for him.

‘You’re not broken, little girl. Promise.’ Just the thought of the words was enough to cloud my mind, but I was dedicated to besting him in this exchange. If he was going to be arrogant, then I would give him the best challenge I could.

“Would you rather I fought you?” I asked, beginning to pull my legs shut before he grabbed them and pulled them over his shoulders.

“No. The instructions for tonight should be very easy to follow; even for you.”

I was trying to pay attention, but it was getting harder the closer he came to actually fucking doing something. It was so obvious that he was getting off on the way my eyes were barely able to stay open, my chest moving with each half-sob that came when he would lay a kiss against my hips.

“What are they?” I slurred, grabbing handfuls of the sheets to prevent myself from forcing him against me.

It was clearly the exact question he was waiting for, a devilish smirk stretching over his cheeks as he dragged his lips down to where I wanted them, moving them against my skin to say, “Stay still, and don’t be quiet.”

While I appreciated the instruction, I feared that it was in vain. Because when Spencer finally flattened his tongue against me, I couldn’t have stopped myself from immediately crying out if I tried.

My hands retained their death grip on the sheets, partially making up for the fact that my body immediately disobeyed his command to stay still. But I couldn’t help it; the long strokes of his tongue up and down my sex felt like pure bliss. And honestly, it wasn’t even just the physical sensations. It was just the knowledge that we were back where we should be; shamelessly indulging in our need for each other without inhibitions. Spencer was clearly enjoying himself, his hands struggling to gently hold me down while he devoured me like a man starved.

I couldn’t look at him, my head bent so far back I could see the headboard. His name fell from my mouth like a mantra, my hips rolling against each motion of his tongue.

“I missed you.” I cried, my legs once again locking around him, my heels on his back as I wished I could pull him closer. “I missed this so badly, Spencer.”

He couldn’t really answer, although I think the moan that he gave was meant to be a response. The vibrations almost sent me over the edge, but right before they could, he pulled back ever so slightly.

I glanced down to figure out why, and was met with his eyes watching me intently, analyzing every response I was giving him; memorizing the way my body shook with need after just a few weeks in his absence.

“Please, don’t stop.” I begged, not caring how pathetic the words sounded when they broke in my throat.

“Oh, I’m not.” He mumbled against me, raising his lips to close around the bundle of nerves at my crest.

At first, I just sighed, appreciating the soft flicks and swirls of his tongue that would eventually build up another release. But it was when I closed my eyes that he revealed his plan.

Without any warning, I felt his finger slip between my folds, thrusting into me with one fluid motion as my wanton moans filled the room. He didn’t let them distract him, his mouth intent on the rhythm it had set, and his hand insistently working to match it.

There was nothing comprehensible in the noises I made, and neither of us seemed to mind. Spencer was only urged on, quickly adding a second finger in his ruthless pace that finally forced me to release the wrinkled sheets in my hands. Instead, they wound through his hair, pulling me against him as I chased my release.

“Please.” I whined, hoping that he would know what I was asking for. Because I didn’t even know what I was asking for— just that he could give it to me.

And sure enough, he did, his fingers beginning to curl inside of me with each motion. I used all of the energy I could muster had to keep my hips relatively still, although they were still trembling with the tension spreading through my muscles that tightened around him.

I wanted to call out his name, to give him the praise and recognition he deserved, but my tongue was tied in the haze of pleasure that overtook me. I could barely breathe, my mind transported to some alternate universe where there was only Spencer and myself. There was no point in identifying where we diverged, because he felt so much like a part of me in that moment, I could never separate from him again.

My walls fluttered around his fingers that still pumped into me with the same vigor. His tongue continued to circle my clit while he gently sucked, clearly lost in his own form of pleasure from the activity.

I wished I could touch him more. I wanted to drag him up to my lips, turn him onto his back and ride him until my legs gave out. But I couldn’t; my body tired and no longer used to the energy we once made a habit of spending on each other on any given day. It had used that energy to dull the pain so I could enjoy the relatively tame experience we had just shared.

As I came down from my orgasm, I was filled with guilt over the fact that I hadn’t so much as touched him once in this entire encounter, and now my hands weren’t even able to keep my grip on his hair as he lifted his head.

Spencer seemed none the wiser about the shame brewing in my head, and he wiped his mouth to reveal a lovesick smile beneath his hand.

“Good girl.” He rasped, crawling up to my side rather than on top of me. With a tender hand, he brushed aside the strands of my hair that stuck to the sweat on my face. “I knew you could behave.”

He sounded so proud of me, which only served to intensify the guilt now pouring from my heart and tainting the rest of what should have been a beautiful memory. I clung to the little bit of light I saw in those toffee eyes.

“How dare you imply I’m ever capable of such a thing.” I chuckled, reaching out to hold him somehow.

He took my hand in his, raising it to his lips for a brief kiss before resting them both against his heart.

“Can I help you?” I sounded drunk from my exhaustion, but hopefully determined enough to convince him I was willing. He didn’t buy it.

“No, go to sleep.”

He leaned forward like he was going to kiss me, but then brought his fingers down over my eyes, brushing over my lids in an attempt to get me to close them. To his credit, it worked, but only for a second before they snapped back open.

“That’s not fair!” I murmured, pulling the sheet over me while I tried to sneak closer to him. I noticed the way he scrutinized my free hand’s movements, ready to stop it from doing too much.

‘It’s gonna be like that, huh?’ I didn’t let it stop me from trying. I didn’t even get to his bellybutton before he snatched my wrist.

“I said no.”

“You know... I could help you without touching you.” I offered instead, pressing my hand against his chest since he wouldn’t let it move any lower. “It’s not the first time we’ve touched ourselves for each other.”

Spencer snorted at the reference, bringing my hands up to his neck, where they happily ran through his now tangled hair.

“That didn’t end well for me last time.”

“I bet you still finished without me.” I teased, my tongue slipping out from my mouth. “Did my pictures come in handy?”

“Like you said— I have an eidetic memory. I don’t need pictures.”

The most noticeable part of his response wasn’t the way his cheeks turned pink, but rather that he didn’t deny that he’d used the pictures. Knowing they were long gone now, considering Penelope’s tendency to snoop too much for her own good, I wondered if that memory was filed away somewhere special in his mind.

“You especially don’t need them when I’m right here.” I purred, tugging him closer by his hair until the gap between us was gone, our lips pressed feverishly against the other.

It was always like that. Like the second we touched, the proverbial dam between us turned to dust. Within a matter of seconds, we’d be so wrapped up in each other that we didn’t care about the wreckage left in our wake.

Spencer didn’t let it get that far, though. He hadn’t in some time.

“You have had enough excitement for one day. I don’t need anything.” He clarified, clearing his throat and acting like I couldn’t feel his erection pressed against my thigh. Still, his next statement was so genuine I couldn’t have argued with it if I tried. “I just wanted to take care of you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

But on the topic of wanting, I knew I felt it more. “I want things to be normal again.” I answered quickly, an urgency blooming in my throat that died when I tried to finish the thought. “I feel so... useless.”

His hand has grabbed my chin before I even noticed its absence on my hip. He held my face towards him, a dark and pained timbre in his voice.

“Don’t ever think that.”

It was a plea. I wanted to give him the relief and assurance he sought, but my gut told me to be honest with him, even if it hurt us.

“It’s just that before, we... did so much more and I’m scared that I won’t...”

Why was it so hard? He was looking at me like he would do anything to stop me from feeling even the slightest discomfort, but I felt like I was suffocating. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I didn’t want him to worry. I wanted to make him as happy as he made me, but...

“I’m scared that I won’t ever be able to do it again.”

He couldn’t tell me that I was wrong. If he tried to make it only about my physical condition, he risked the chance of me telling him I don’t want to do it ever again. Did I feel that way? It was hard to tell; it was too early to tell. But the crushing despair that I felt at the thought of losing that part of our relationship suggested I did not feel that way.

“Hey. Look at me.” Spencer’s voice tore me away from the intrusive thoughts about our inevitable fallout, his hand still holding me in place in front of him, and his eyes still promising me the world.

“Just because we’ve done something before doesn’t mean we ever have to do it again.”

The words felt like the first breath after struggling for air underwater and finally breaking the surface just in the nick of time. Why were they such a relief? I couldn’t figure it out, but was too afraid to ask, fearing how Spencer might take it. Although, the tears pooling at my lashes gave him more than enough to read.

“Tell me you understand.” His request was as gentle as always. After a moment of trying, and failing, to collect myself, I nodded.

He sighed, cautiously moving his palm to cup my cheek. It was his voice that broke then. “I know this is hard, but I need you to use your big girl words for this. I need to make sure you hear me.”

“I understand.” My throat ached as I forced the words out. I could tell he wasn’t convinced but knew any argument would be meaningless while we were both so tired.

“Thank you.” He said, anyway. And like the prettiest sounding broken record, he let his fingertips trail over any exposed area he could find as he spoke the same words I’d heard before, even more insistent. “Even if you never touched me again, just knowing that you’re alive and happy... That alone makes the happiest man in the world.”

Spencer’s lips pressed against my forehead, resting there for a little too long. From the uneven shake of his breath, I knew he was hiding something, but didn’t want to ask what. I suspected they were tears.

I had disappointed him again. I had hurt him, yet again. I hadn’t meant to.

“It’s all that I need. To know that you’re happy.” There was an implicit message hiding in those words.

He was saying he wanted me to be happy, consciously neglecting to voice the resigned addition, ‘even if it’s not with me.’

“I know.” I whispered, half asleep as he continued drawing patterns on my skin. I meant to tell him that he was the only man who’d ever made me feel truly happy, safe, and loved— the only one I trusted with my heart. But all that came out was a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He said back, leaving me to wonder if he’d heard what I meant.

—————————————————

After everything I’d been through, I’d sworn that I would never want to be in a hospital ever again. But, unfortunately for me, it seemed my stubbornness extended even to my own limits, which explained why I was currently walking through the doors of the residential inpatient ward. It was a good idea in theory, to volunteer in the last place I wanted to be so that I could grow used to being there again.

It didn’t have to be a scary place.

Especially since the people around me weren’t the typical hospital patients. In fact, the people there weren’t even the usual patients of the hospital. Apparently, the ward was hosting a group of traveling patients that had been deemed fit for a vacation to the nation’s capital.

My assignment was simple enough - simply meet with a person and discuss the book they were currently reading. There was no requirement that we had to have read the book before, considering that would leave most people without a partner at all.

I was expecting to meet someone to discuss some niche romance novel or whatever had recently come out in theaters, but as I scanned the list of books, one stuck out to me more than the others.

The Book of Margery Kempe (1501).

It wasn’t the book itself that piqued my interest— I’d never read it. I had, however, listened to Spencer explain the entire premise to me on several occasions. Unsurprisingly, no one else volunteered for the book from the fifteenth century that referred to the main character as “this creature.” No one until me, that is.

There was no questioning who my partner was when I entered the room, spotting her quickly on the outskirts of the room with the book in her hand, but her eyes fixed on the raindrops slowly dripping down the window.

“Hi, are you Diana?”

She jumped a little at the sound of my voice, and I tried not to be consumed by guilt for surprising her despite my best efforts not to.

“Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n). I’m sorry if I scared you. I was assigned to be your book buddy today.” I explained, gesturing to the book on her lap with a smile that wasn’t big enough to be fake. From what the nurses had told me about her, I figured it was best to just be as genuine as possible… which made my answer to her next question a little more difficult.

“You’ve read this book?”

“Actually, I haven’t. No one had.” I laughed, pulling another chair over to her before taking a seat. “But I have heard someone go through basically the entire story in their own words, so...” I never finished the thought, cut off by a slight scoff from the woman.

“I figured. You’re very young.”

“Hey! Young people can read the classics.” I defended, crossing the lower half of my legs and tucking my hands between my knees. It probably gave away some of my nerves, but I figured it was alright considering she wasn’t a profiler and Spencer wasn’t here.

“But you don’t.” She wryly noted.

“Guilty. My boyfriend does, though.” I acquiesced, albeit a bit distracted as my mind decided to focus on those memories rather than the current reality.

“At least you’ve got that exposure. It’s important to learn these things.”

For a second, it felt like I was being lectured by my boyfriend, making it hard not to laugh, which I was pretty sure she didn’t appreciate.

“Can you tell me about it? I want to know if my boyfriend was just making stuff up.” I shrugged, laughing while I found myself avoiding her eyes. She noticed that behavior; most people would.

But to my surprise, she started to explain the book, anyway. Less surprising was the realization that Spencer hadn’t made up any of it. It was clear as day from their similar words that they had definitely read the same book. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought they’d discussed it together, too.

She was more talented than he was at explaining, though. Maybe it was a little bit my fault, considering I always got distracted by his voice. But with her, it really did feel like someone sharing a part of themselves. I could tell how deeply she cared for literature, and it made me more excited to hear about the chaste holy woman that found herself tempted by jealousy and sex.

When her story was winding to an end, I was almost sad that it was over. “You must have been a professor.” I mumbled, having already forgotten the information I was given by the nurses.

She was quick to correct me, her mouth curling into a frown as she said, “I still am. I’m just not on the campus anymore.”

“Of course. Gotta stay sharp, right?” I half-heartedly joked, sitting up from my slouched position. A brief stint of silence stretched between us and glancing at the clock I realized that it would still be a little while until Spencer could come get me. So, I turned back to the woman in front of me, noticing the way she stared out the window as she chewed on her nails.

“Is that why you wanted to visit D.C.?” I wondered aloud, and her response didn’t help assuage that curiosity at all.

“I... have another reason.”

“That sounds very mysterious, Diana.” I giggled, leaning forward and whispering, “Are you secretly a rebel?”

She scoffed, but I detected amusement behind the apparent derision. “Nothing like that.”

As sneaky and vague as she was being, and the fact that I had been warned of her paranoia, I still found myself wanting to ask her what could possibly make her as happy as her current thought.

“So what is it?” I said, leaning back in an effort to seem less insistent, explaining my intentions in a rant reminiscent of my boyfriend. “I don’t mean to pry, I just... you got really happy and I’d love to share in that excitement.”

“That’s just selfish.”

She really was so much like him.

“That’s how you know I won’t judge you.” I pointed out, raising one hand in the air and placing the other on my heart.

“I’m not worried about that.” She just waved her hand at me, ignoring my dramatic gesticulations and sighing as she glanced down at the book once more. After another moment of contemplation, her eyes flicked up to me so quickly I almost missed them, analyzing my features one more time before she carefully said, “I’m here to visit my son.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Although her expression was anxious, she still seemed at least a little relieved to have shared her plans with someone.

“He is.” She returned, lightly brushing the back of the book, almost like she was trying to remember something etched on the beveled hardcover. “He’s a good boy. Very bright. He has wonderful adventures. He goes all over the country. He used to tell me everything but... he’s gotten too busy for his mother these past few years.”

As I took in the words, I felt the pain in her voice. My heart wrenched in my chest, imagining how awful it must be to not have a chance to talk to your family. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to ignore you.” At least, I hoped not. She had so many stories to tell, even in just this short window, I couldn’t imagine anyone would want to avoid her. Then again… I knew it could be hard.

“I know he’s busy. That’s why I wanted to come here. It makes it easier for him.” She was confident in her explanation, and I nodded back with similar gusto.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

“No. I’m going to have them call him today.”

We were both happy then, and I clapped my hands together in front of me to suppress the urge to touch her as I excitedly replied, “I hope you get to see him.”

“Me too,” she agreed, simultaneously hopeful and defeated, before turning back to the window with the same wistfulness as before. “If not, the museums will be nice, too.”

“Hey, if you need a docent, I could always call my boyfriend. He would be so excited to talk to a fellow scholar who could actually follow along.” I excitedly replied, rocking forward in my chair with a goofy grin at the thought. She reminded me enough of him that I figured the two would get along. He’d at least understand what she talked about, unlike me.

“There’s no one that can compare to my son.” She warned, narrowing her eyes and pouting in a way I swore I’d seen before on another face.

“I bet. He does sound a lot like him, though. I bet they’d be friends.” The gears in my brain, rusted and slightly worn, started to turn. “They actually might be... my boyfriend lives near here.”

And that was when it hit me, the obvious conclusion I’d been avoiding for some reason. That creeping, unsettling familiarity wasn’t from coincidence; it was my brain recognizing her as an extension of the man I loved.

“...What’s your son’s name?”

She never got to answer, because no sooner had I finished saying the words thanwe both heard Spencer’s voice from the door behind us.

“Mom?”

The realization crashed into all three of us like a goddamn freight train. And even with my flair for the dramatic, I found my head spinning as I tried to will time to rewind itself.

“Spencer? How did you know I was here?” Diana said through a confused gasp, turning to me to see the equally stunned look on my face.

“I didn’t… I—“

They both turned to me, but I was too busy staring halfway between them, my jaw dropped open and my brain suddenly devoid of any helpful thought.

When it decided to finally be helpful, it was only marginally better. “Well… that makes a lot of sense.” I said with a cringeworthy laugh. When neither of them laughed, and continued to stare at me, I quickly shot up from my chair and waved a shaking hand. “You should talk to your mom. I’ll give you guys a minute.”

I didn’t get very far before Spencer’s hand caught my wrist, his wild eyes wide and insistent as he crackled, “Actually, I need a minute alone with you. If that’s okay.”

I turned to Diana for her permission but found nothing useful. She was also still caught up in the disaster that had just occurred, and turned back to her son who seemed genuinely apologetic.

“Sorry mom, I’ll… I’ll be right back.”

Spencer nearly dragged me out of the room, shutting the door and hiding out of sight of any windows. If he was ready to unleash his pent up anxiety, though, he wasn’t quick enough.

“Spencer, what the shit?!” I whisper-yelled, the sound echoing through the sterile hallway.

My boyfriend didn’t have any answers, his hands raking through his hair as he clearly tried to calm his heart and rapid breath. “I’m sorry I— I didn’t know that she was here! What is she doing here?!”

“Oh my god. Shut up. I’m freaking out. What if she thinks I’m weird?” I rambled back, grabbing my chest once I realized that I was freaking out just was badly as the idiot in front of me. Because seriously, he couldn’t tell me his mom’s name so I wouldn’t be blindsided like this?

Then again, I guess I couldn’t talk.

“What did you say to her?” He whispered back, dragging his hands over his face. He seemed eerily calm while asking, considering just how much we could have gotten into during our conversation. Although, I guess it would have been weird to share the more intimate, embarrassing details with a stranger at a hospital.

“I don’t know! We just talked about you!”

“You talked about me?!”

“Well we didn’t know we were both talking about you!” I said was quietly as possible, which was not quiet at all. Waving my arms between us, I tried to explain the jumbled mess in my head. “She was talking about her son and I was talking about my boyfriend and— Actually, that reminds me.”

“What?”

His answer came in the form of a soft thwack on the back of his head. He jumped, raising his hands to his head in both shock and embarrassment at the public chastisement, despite there being no one around to witness it.

“Call your mother, asshole!”

“Ow?! Don’t hit me!” He whined, and I could tell from the tone that the only damage done was to his ego.

“Stop ignoring your mother! You shouldn’t even be out here!” I reminded him, laying my hands against his chest and beginning to push him back towards the door. “Get back in there!”

Spencer’s hands held onto mine, and for the first time in a while I noticed that they were shaking. The lighthearted panic I’d felt seconds before vanished, replaced with a painful sadness that seemed to bleed from him into my hands.

“I’m not trying to ignore her, I just…” His eyes were struggling to focus, and the crackle in his voice warned me that there was something he was trying to avoid saying. “I can explain… This.”

I didn’t need to hear it.

“Explain what?” I meant the question to be an expression of my feelings, but it seemed to freak him out more. Like I actually expected an answer for why his mother was in a program like this. Like the reason he had kept that from me mattered. I already knew the reason he didn’t tell me— It was pretty obvious.

“Spencer, I don’t care that she’s here. That doesn’t bother me.”

From the faraway look in his eyes, I knew he didn’t really believe me. I couldn’t blame him entirely. The shame was clear on his features. But I also knew that nothing I could say in that moment would make him believe me; it would probably take a long time. That was okay. We had time.

“I’m serious. She’s your mother and you love her, so of course I’m going to like her.” I tried to reassure him anyway, and I noticed the small twitch of his pout that slowly turned into a pitiful smile.

Trying to keep that upward trend, I motioned to my absolutely ridiculous outfit and bedhead before I laughed, “I’m mostly just mortified about the fact that I just met your mother looking like this and acting like a fucking moron.”

Thankfully, Spencer laughed back. His hands gripped mine tighter, and through the tears that stayed perched on his eyes without falling, he croaked, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just… go see your mom. I’ll go hang out in the cafeteria for a minute.” I jumped up on my toes, yanking my hands back only to them around his neck.

His arms caught me like they always did, holding me so tightly against him that I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. I kissed him just as hard, trying to remind him that there was nothing in the world that could ruin the happiness I felt when he held me.

I held his face as the kiss ended, squishing his cheeks together and warping his smile in the process. I was just grateful that it was still there.

“And take your time talking to her, because I am fucking starving.” I instructed. The crisp hospital air on my skin was cold as he left, but inside my chest, butterflies erupted that kept me warm. He gave me one final goofy wave before we went our separate ways again.

As I wandered through the hospital halls, I wondered if he knew how nervous I actually was. I couldn’t tell him yet; he would misinterpret it, regardless of his profiling skills. He would see the anxiety in my interactions with her as my fear over his future mental state instead of what it really was— fear that the other woman he loved wouldn’t approve of me.

There was no sense in worrying about it yet. Diana and I had shared a great time together as far as I could tell, and I would definitely make sure that Spencer spent more time talking to her in the future. So as depressing as the hospital cafeteria could be, it wasn’t so bad that day.

—————————————————

Being alone with Diana was so much different after I’d learned that she was Spencer’s mother. Then again, we weren’t really alone - Spencer was there, he’d just passed out and somehow ended up with his head against the pillow on my lap. I was a little surprised by how comfortable he was being so touchy feely in front of his mother, but I’d also recognized the exhaustion the second he walked into the hospital. He’d been out cold for at least 10 minutes, and I was barely able to stay awake, myself.

Diana seemed wide awake, though, watching the minute rise and fall of Spencer’s shoulder as he slept. At least, I thought that was what she was watching, but it could have also been my hand stroking his arm.

“My son seems very happy.”

I looked up, shaken by the sudden sound after nearly falling asleep to the rhythm of Spencer’s breath against my knee. “I think that has more to do with you being here.” I said through a yawn.

“I’m not so sure.” That was all she said, quiet and skeptical. Her eyes were scrutinizing everything she could see, and I thanked the stars that I didn’t have to go through this without him here, at least. At least we’d had one nice memory together first.

“Are you the reason he’s been so busy?”

I was dreading the question but had already planned my response. “I hope not. His job is so stressful, and he spends so much of his free time taking care of me.” I looked down at the mop of brown hair that hadn’t been brushed.

When I ran my hand through the ends of his curls, he shifted on my lap, his hand coming up to grab my thigh as he buried his face into the pillow. I chuckled at the clingy movements, which poorly contrasted my words.

“It makes me feel awful.”

I expected her to look disappointed or disturbed by the action, but she mostly just looked… sad.

“He’s good at taking care of people.” She explained, her head jerking away to stare at the lamp beside her. “I made him do it too often.”

Her answer hurt me in more ways than one. It hurt me because I felt the guilt and shame in her voice over something that she had no control over, which was obviously something that should never happen. But it also hurt because I heard myself in it, and I had to ask myself if, just like I had found traits of my father in Spencer, he’d found his mother in me.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t be ashamed of being like her - she was brilliant and obviously cared for him deeply. It was the source of the shame that frightened me.

Was he just with me to take care of me? How soon would he grow tired of that? What would happen when I got better? Would I ever? Did I even want to, if that meant he would leave?

They were terrible, awful thoughts to have. So, I did what I was best at, and shoved them back into the corner of my mind to revisit when I was desperate and alone.

“I think he would disagree. He obviously loves you very much.” Was what I said, instead.

“I could say the same for you.” There was a slight bitterness in her words that forced a frown out of me. The words were forceful, almost like a compulsion that she wanted to fight but was too tired to win. She seemed to regret that, too.

“I know my son... and I’ve never seen him like this before.” She pointed to him on my lap, still sound asleep despite the conversation happening above him. “I don’t think he’s ever slept that well with me. And…”

Part of me wanted to tell her that it wasn’t always like this. I wanted her to know that it had nothing to do with any failing of her own, but a failing on the part of the rest of the world for hurting him when neither of us had been there. But she probably felt the same guilt I did that we couldn’t fix those broken parts. Her eyes met mine, and in the reflection, I saw both of our apprehension.

“I’ve never felt like a girl was taking my son away from me before.”

The breath wasn’t knocked from me, but it did fall out of me in a slow, shaky exhale. I didn’t know what to say back, terrified by the implication behind the words just as much as the fact she felt them.

“He’ll always be yours first.” I promised her, refusing to look away from her eyes even as she refused to meet them. I needed her to know that I would never be a threat to them. That all I wanted or cared about was that he was happy and safe, and that I knew she felt the same.

“Then he should call me more.” Diana said, wry humor bleeding back into the conversation despite how heavy it had become.

“I’ll make sure he does.” I answered, my hands resuming their gentle soothing motions. I saw her hand mimicking the actions against her blanket and found myself wondering about things I’d never ask her. I knew virtually nothing about his childhood aside from the prodigy thing, but it was clear that his father was not in the picture, and that he was very close with his mother.

I couldn’t blame her for wanting to protect him. Just as I had thought it, she’d said it herself.

“When you’re kind like my son, the world will eat you alive if no one is protecting you.”

Maybe Spencer had gotten that mind reading trait from his mother, rather than his profiler training, I thought.

“Are you going to protect him?”

I wasn’t ready for that question. Honestly, I hadn’t even considered it. In all the time we’d been together, I’d selfishly worried about how any harm to him would affect me. In my defense, it had always seemed the more likely scenario.

I was so worried about being the source of his hurt or not being able to fix it that I never thought about how I could prevent it. It almost felt… inevitable. Everyone who loved me got hurt, and he’d already made up his mind on that topic.

“I’m going to try.” The hesitance in my voice gave away my anxieties, and Diana spoke quicker and bolder.  

“You said he takes care of you, but what do you do for him?”

The walls were closing in on me, and I couldn’t fucking breathe. My hand on Spencer’s arm grabbed his shirt before I noticed. I wanted him to be awake, to hold me and tell me that it would be okay. I wanted to be far away from that conversation— that question.

“I-I…” I mumbled, trying to flatten my hand as his mother saw it, trying to act like I wasn’t a fucking child clinging to her boyfriend to save her from a question she didn’t have a satisfying answer to.

It was too late, and Diana covered her mouth as she looked away. “I see.” She said before we both went silent.

The silence didn’t help either, though. If anything, it felt worse. Like my chest had been torn open and she could see all the contents, and the longer I gave her to draw her own conclusions about what she saw, the worst they would become.

That was stupid, right? I couldn’t tell. She liked me, right? Did it matter?

“He told me he wants to get married and have kids and I’m just...” I started to ramble, my hands now hovering above Spencer as I stared down at him, still sleeping soundly like the world wasn’t crushing me above him. In a panic, I looked up to Diana with what I can only assume was a terrified, frantic look. “I’m worried. I’m scared that he won’t be as happy as he could be if he stays with me instead of... someone else. And that question scares me because I still don’t know why he cares about me so much when I can’t give him half of what he gives me.”

My chest heaved from a combination of the lack of breath and skyrocketing pulse. Diana peered at me through her peripherals, a battle visible behind her gaze.

“Most people would be scared to admit that. Especially to his mother.” She thought out loud, and I knew she was weighing my open admission to determine how likely it was that I was lying.

“I figured lying would be worse. I know honesty is important to your family.” I confessed, hoping that my openness wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass. “I don’t ever want to lie to either of you.”

I left off the ‘again.’

“You know what I think?” Diana said, tapping her chin and readjusting the blanket over her legs as she found a way to be more comfortable with the tension floating in the air.

I took it as a good sign. I hoped it was a good sign. I looked at her in anticipation.

“I think... you two will be happier than you think.” Diana’s lips curled ever so slightly as she held her own hand, rubbing the back of her hand the same way Spencer often rubbed mine. “Love is more than similar beliefs. It’s wanting to share your life with someone. Wanting to see them happy.”

Despite the content of her words, it didn’t feel like a lecture. It was… warm, and comforting. Her voice sounded familiar and loving and safe. She was the one who had taught Spencer to talk.

“I love my son more than anything else in the world. I won’t let anyone take him away unless I’m positive that he will be happy.” Diana finished; the warning grave but her voice quiet.

“I understand.” I replied just as softly, finally looking back down to Spencer. My heart felt like it would burst from the image. As much as I wanted him to see me and his mother having a heart to heart, it was best not to worry him with our battling affections, no matter how minimal the risk.

“Do you love him?”

The question hung in the air because I was still so caught up in his face that I almost forgot she couldn’t read my mind.

“Yes.” I felt the tears forming in my eyes as I breathlessly repeated, “Yes, I do. I love him.”

Diana must have heard the strain in my voice and seen the tiredness in my eyes, because the threatening tone faded. “Then take care of him.” She said, more like a plea than a demand. “Take care of him like I never could, because you know how much he deserves it.”

I nodded, excitedly and happily, my voice breaking and interrupted by a hard swallow to rid myself of the lump in my throat when I said, “I will.”

With perfect timing, Spencer’s body jerked under my hand as it found its way back to his shoulder. “What are you guys talking about?” He slurred before even opening his eyes, clearly bothered by the lost time wherein his mother and I could have spoken about any number of horrifying things.

“We were just saying it’s time for me to head out.” I lied, and Diana’s sly smirk was enough of an indication for me to feel alright about it. It was funny—I’d just told her I never wanted to lie to him, but this one seemed pretty harmless. She deserved alone time with her son, after all.

“Do you want me to drive you?” He finally sat up, rubbing his face to try and get rid of the creases that had formed from the pillow’s texture.

I laughed at the question because he was so obviously not in a position to drive. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten an Uber after leaving his place, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. At least this time wasn’t a walk of shame.

“No, I’m fine. You stay here and spend time with your mom. Awake, this time.” I warned, poking him on the nose and earning a playful giggle from the grown man at my side. “She came a long way. She deserves it.”

He quickly got me back, grabbing my face and pulling me forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. And as much as I would have preferred one on the lips, I was grateful for his sudden modesty in front of his mother. It still felt strange.

“Okay. I love you. Drive safe please. And tell me when you get home.” He instructed as I nodded along, already having memorized the speech from every time I’d ever left him.

“Of course.” I murmured through a somewhat embarrassed pout before I got up and grabbed my things.

Before I made my way to the door, I stopped, turning to see Spencer take the seat beside his mother. She took his hand, but she looked at me. I thought about hugging her but knew that Spencer’s company was far superior to mine, and that every second I distracted her was one less she got with him. So, I settled for a wave and a smile.

“Goodnight Diana. Thanks for the talk.”

“Goodnight.” She returned, with a contented smile washing over her as her son rested his head on her shoulder. The final image of the two of them happy in each other’s company was enough to satisfy me until the next time I saw him. Because, like we’d just discussed, he was happy, and that was all that mattered.

As I opened the door to leave, she spoke again. “Thank you.” She said, and I knew she was talking about more than the conversation.

“Anytime.”

—————————————————

| Part 19 |

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pindaleng · 3 years

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Merry Pitchmas @anotherbechloeshipper !!

Had so much fun writing this one, hope you enjoy it :)

Title: In From the Snow

Pairing: Bechloe

Chapters: 1/1

Wordcount: 2943

Summary: Beca didn’t anticipate making many friends her freshman year, much less become best friends with one Chloe Beale. When a snow storm ruins both their plans to travel home, they get to spend some quality time together. Beca thinks this might be her best chance to tell the other girl how she feels.

Read on AO3 or below.

Beca stared gloomily at the large flakes falling outside her dorm window.

There was no way her old Camry would be able drive more than ten miles an hour in these conditions. The forecast said “heavy snow”, but she didn’t realize it’d be this bad.

She totally would have left a few days earlier if she didn’t have a final scheduled for the absolute last day of the semester. It’s not like she was super excited about heading back home either, but she knew her dad and step mom would give her shit for it.

She sighed. Might as well text them now to rip off that band-aid.

Shortly after she sent the message, she heard a knock on her opened door.

“Hey, you’re still here!”

In the doorway stood Chloe Beale, undoubtedly the coolest person on their dorm floor. Beca (to her surprise) got along with most of the people on her floor, but something about Chloe specifically drew her in.

Admittedly, she found the other girl annoying at first, as she seemed like the high school girls that were fake nice just to talk about you behind your back. She soon learned, though, that Chloe was the real deal.

But not of course before giving her a hard time for a couple of months. Frustratingly, but thankfully, Chloe was incredibly persistent. Beca hadn’t really expected to make so many friends, intending to keep her head down and make her way through, but everyone grew on her. Especially Chloe.

“Yeah, unfortunately still here.” Beca replied. “Wanted to drive out today but doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen.”

Chloe invited herself in and hopped onto Beca’s bed. She hummed in understanding. “I just got back from the store and driving was for sure a struggle. Definitely would not recommend.”

“Great. You’re staying here too, then?”

“Yep! Which means you get to spend time with little ol’ me.” She propped her head on her hands. “Any plans for the day?”

There wasn’t really a Plan B since she didn’t expect her driving-back-home Plan A to not work out. “Not really, probably just gonna work on some mixes.”

“Can I join?”

“Yes, please make it a little less sad that I’m stuck here on Christmas Eve.”

“Sweet, I’ll be back.” Chloe slid off the bed and make her way out the room. “Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Beca just rolled her eyes and started setting up her laptop.

Chloe came back moments later with her sketchbook and colored pencils, and settled on Beca’s roommate’s bed. Both of them were friends with Stacie, so they knew she wouldn’t mind her bed being used.

They passed time peacefully like this for a couple of hours, each doing their separate thing.

Beca was so engrossed in her music that she doesn’t notice Chloe call out her name until the other girl waved at her to get her attention.

She slipped off her headphones. “What’s up?”

“I was thinking about getting some food soon. You in?”

The hunger hit her stomach now that food was mentioned. “Yeah, I could eat. Where at?” Though the dorms stayed open, dining halls were closed. There were plenty of places nearby though, and many of whom delivered. They went back and forth suggesting restaurants until Chloe looked like she had an epiphany. “We should go to that new ramen place!”

Beca’s immediate reaction was to pout, as they didn’t deliver. Chloe laughed.

“Oh come on, it’s a five minute walk, max. You big baby.” Chloe playfully poked her cheek. “Plus it’s super pretty outside.”

“And it’s super warm inside.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I’m going with or without you.”

The ultimatum was effective. Beca grumbled but put her coat on anyways. The reluctance was really just all show, as she would probably walk naked into a freezing lake for the other girl.

Snow was steadily falling outside, blanketing all the surfaces in a thick layer of white. Campus was quiet, as most of the students had already left for the holidays. It was both eerie and calming. The absence of drunk frat guys yelling, though, was definitely a plus.

“Okay I admit, it is pretty outside.” But you’re prettier. The automatic thought was so cheesy she almost threw up a bit in her mouth. Since when did she think such gross things? She could practically see Stacie smirking annoyingly at her.

Chloe grinned in victory, and Beca’s heart swooped.

Her brain definitely wasn’t lying though: Chloe was undoubtedly beautiful. The snowflakes in Chloe’s hair contrasted perfectly with the red color, making her look like some sort of magazine model. It felt kind of unfair that she could exist like that and not know what she was doing to poor Beca’s soul.

—

When the waitress asked if they needed one or two checks, Chloe replied “just one” before Beca could get a word in.

As the waitress walked away, Beca sent a questioning look to the redhead.

Chloe shrugged, “It’s easier for them to just run a single card.” Beca offered to pay her back, but she insisted it to be a holiday present. If Beca didn’t know better, she would have swore it was a date.

They were on their way back to the dorms when Beca felt something hit the back of her head.

She whipped around. “Hey!”

Chloe was already packing another snowball, clearly out for blood. She quickly launched that one too, which Beca barely managed to sidestep. She bent down to create her own snow projectile.

Chloe began to run away to get out of range, so Beca went to chase her. Unfortunately, Beca slipped on the snow and fell. Chloe was immediately at her side. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

The snow cushioned her fall pretty well, but Beca didn’t want to give that away just yet. She faked a grimace. “I think I broke my leg.”

“Oh shit.” Chloe furrowed her eyebrows in worry. “I’m so sorry I-“

Beca felt too bad that she immediately stopped her. “I’m joking, I’m actually fine.”

It took a moment to register, and then Chloe slapped her on the arm. “You scared me!”

Beca rubbed the spot where she was hit. “Ok now I actually have to go to the hospital.”

Chloe just slapped her arm again, before offering a hand to pull her up. Beca took it but didn’t get up. Chloe looked confused as Beca smirked, and then pulled the other girl down into the snow with her. She fell on her face in the fresh snow with a satisfying poof.

“Oh my god, you asshole.” Chloe laughed after pulling her face up, and shoved at the other girl, who was still laying in the snow.

“Chlo you have a beard.” Beca was practically wheezing at the sight of Chloe having snow stuck all over her face. “Still hot though.”

Chloe modeled it, striking poses and getting up to walk down an imaginary runway, while Beca yelled after her, hyping her up.

They messed around in the snow for a while longer, then took the long way back. Beca considered complaining about the cold and wet seeping in, but Chloe just looked so happy. Plus, it really was nice outside. Walking with Chloe in the peace of campus was a moment Beca wanted to keep tucked in her pocket forever.

—

After getting back, they went to take showers (separately) to warm themselves up, deciding to reconvene later in Chloe’s room. Beca sat on her bed with her hair in a towel, scrolling through her phone. She opened a message from Stacie, who was definitely one of her best friends in college so far. She flew out a couple of days ago and told Beca not to “get too freaky” while she was gone. Beca practically shoved her out the door.

Stacie [6:31 pm]: You make it home?

Beca [7:13 pm]: No, stuck here. Stupid snow.

A reply immediately came in.

Stacie [7:13 pm]: Ugh that sucks, are you by yourself then?

Beca hesitated on what exactly to say, knowing Stacie would immediately make fun of her for the truth.

Beca [7:15 pm]: Not exactly…..Chloe is also still here

Stacie [7:16 pm]: !!!!!!!!!!

Stacie [7:16 pm]: BECA

Stacie [7:16 pm]: THIS IS YOUR CHANCE

Beca [7:17 pm]: Dude she doesn’t like me

Stacie [7:18 pm]: Do NOT bother coming back to campus if you don’t shoot your shot right now

Stacie [7:19 pm]: Joking but also not

Stacie [7:19 pm]: She hangs out w you all the time. She actually listens to your music recs. Plz do something.

Stacie [7:20 pm]: Ok talk later family is calling for dinner, good luck!!!!!

Beca [7:21 pm]: ??? I’m going to ignore that you basically implied not listening to any of the music I’ve suggested

She fell back onto her bed. She wanted to make a move, and she did feel like there could be something between them. However, each time Chloe was nice to someone else, she got psyched out believing that Chloe was always just being platonically nice to her. No flirting involved.

With each passing day, though, it became harder to deny she wanted her. And how badly she did. She caught herself staring a bit too long, and hung endlessly on the small touches Chloe would always do. A brush of the finger here, and a hair tucked behind an ear there. Beca thought some days she might explode.

She texted Chloe to ask if she was ready yet.

Chloe [7:25 pm]: Sorry got distracted!! Hopping in the shower now.

With the extra time, Beca decided to finish the mix she was working on earlier that day. There was something off about it that she couldn’t quite figure out, but coming back to it now, she figured out what it was missing. She listened to it a few times to make sure she was really happy with it before mastering it.

A text came in from Chloe, letting her know she could come over whenever.

Beca quickly added the song to a USB which already contained many music files, then placed the drive into a small pink, cardboard box she got from Stacie. The box originally held a necklace, which made it the perfect size for her gift.

She stashed it in her sweater pocket then made her way to Chloe’s room in the other wing of the floor.

It was still relatively early in the night, so Chloe suggested a movie. Beca wasn’t one for movies usually, but it wasn’t like she had any better ideas.

They cuddled together on the small dorm bed in Chloe’s den of pillows, with the laptop in front of them. The movie was actually pretty good, despite all the bad decisions the main character kept making, and the fact that Beca missed half the plot due to glancing at Chloe instead, and being nervous about how close they were.

“Thoughts?” Chloe turned down the volume as the credits began to roll.

“I think she should have gone with the second guy.”

“Really? I thought he was kind of iffy.”

They proceeded have a lively discussion about the movie, with Beca continuing to argue mostly to mess with Chloe, who seemed quite adamant about the main character’s end choice of romantic partner. It ended with Chloe tickling her until Beca finally admitted her defeat.

“Okay, close your eyes.”

Beca looked at Chloe warily, still catching her breath from the tickling attack. “Um, why?”

“Just do it.”

She sighed but did as she was told.

“No peeking!”

Her index finger drew a cross above her heart, signaling her promise to not look.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

In front of her was a piece of paper carefully rolled into a tube and bound with a red bow. Beca picked it up, gingerly untying the ribbon, unraveling her gift. Her jaw dropped.

“Chloe…”

In her hands was a pencil sketch of her with headphones on, smiling and almost on the verge of laughing. Honestly, she never thought about what she looked like while she was happy. The image of herself in her mind was always some version of broody. Is this how Chloe saw her? Beca wasn’t one to usually cry, but she might have teared up a bit.

“This is…incredible.”

Chloe looked kind of nervous. The same way that Beca was protective of showing others her music, Chloe was hesitant to show much of her art. “You like it?”

“Dude I love it. Seriously.” That reassurance seemed to put Chloe at ease. “Okay, your turn to close your eyes.”

Chloe did it without hesitation, and also held out her hands. Beca shook her head a bit in amusement and placed the small box into her palm.

“Okay, open.”

She opened her eyes and lifted the lid of the box to find a black USB drive, with a piece of tape on the side simply labeled “For Chloe”.

Her smile widened as she realized what her present was. “Do I get to finally listen to your music?”

“Maybe.”

“It means a lot, Beca. Thank you.”

“Um yeah, no problem. Don’t tell me if you end up thinking it’s bad.” She joked.

“Oh please, you’re going to have to block me with how many good things I’ll say.”

“Don’t tempt me, I might delete your contact right now.”

Chloe laughed. “Oh please, like you could last a day without me. Also, I actually have another present for you.” She scotched a bit closer to Beca.

“Oh,” Beca furrowed her eyebrows. “Well, I don’t have anything el-“

She was swiftly cut off as Chloe kissed her, soft and sweet. So polite and unassuming it almost felt platonic.

But god did it give Beca butterflies.

Chloe pulled away so quickly that Beca wasn’t sure it even happened. Like maybe she just daydreamed too hard and manifested a hallucination.

She must have had a deer in the headlights look because Chloe suddenly got super shy. “Was that okay?” She whispered, face still close.

Beca finally came to her senses. “Yeah, totally. More than okay. Amazing really.” She must look like a blushing mess.

The corner of Chloe’s mouth quirked up in amusement and relief. “Yeah?”

“Still could be better, though.” Good work Beca, make a joke to regain some semblance of having her shit together.

“Oh?” She watched Chloe lick her lips, a mesmerizing motion. The shyness was all but gone, replaced by something much more confident, and destined to ruin Beca’s life. And she knew she’d welcome it with open arms.

—

Beca woke up in the morning to the light touch of fingers trailing along her jaw. She smiled, remembering where she was, and more importantly, who was besides her. She probably had the best night of sleep in her life. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, Beale?” She asked, keeping her eyes closed.

“Are you going to try and stop me?” Chloe whispered. Her raspy morning voice was really so damn attractive.

She opened one eye, smiling. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good.” Chloe leaned in for a long kiss, the hand on her face pulling Beca closer. Her breath hitched. She didn’t think she could ever get used to this. Kissing Chloe Beale. Touching her.

She pulled away all too soon, just as Beca began to want her even more. Beca was quickly learning how much of a tease Chloe was.

“i’m going to get ready, and then maybe we can go get breakfast somewhere?”

“Or…we can stay in bed all day.”

Chloe giggled, and Beca almost professed her love. “Becs, both of us gotta head home.”

“Do we though?”

Chloe just smiled as she slipped out of bed and grabbed her toothbrush and face towel. Before she was completely out the door, she gave her butt a little shake, as if she could tell Beca was staring at her clad in a large t-shirt and sleep shorts. Beca was sure Chloe was smirking as she did it.

As soon as she was out of sight, Beca grabbed her phone from the desk. A text from her dad and a couple from Stacie. She opened the messages from the latter.

Stacie [11:13 pm]: How’d it go?

Stacie [11:30 pm]: I’m assuming the silence is a good thing and ur just too busy making out with Chloe to reply ;)

Beca typed out a quick message.

Beca [9:30 am]: So…..

Stacie [9:30 am]: THIS BETTER BE GOOD NEWS

Beca [9:31 am]: How do you keep replying so quickly??

Stacie [9:31 am]: How about you stop avoiding

Beca thought of the million different things she could say, but opted for simplicity.

Beca [9:32 am]: :)

Stacie [9:33 am]: Is that good

Stacie [9:33 am]: Beca is that good

Stacie [9:34 am]: ?????

She set her phone down, feeling giddy. It might have been a bit cruel to leave Stacie hanging, but she’d get over it. She’d get the full story eventually, but right now, Beca wanted to keep as much of this thing with Chloe to herself as possible. Definitely not like a shameful secret, though.

Something about telling someone about it, however vaguely, made last night and this morning seem actually real. She had this feeling deep in her chest that this was the start of something incredible, which made her both excited and a bit scared. Ok a lot scared. Terrified even.

It sucked that they’d have be apart right as they were starting something. Winter break couldn’t be over soon enough.

#bechloe #merry pitchmas 2020 #pitchmas 2020 #pitch perfect #beca mitchell #chloe beale #stacie conrad #college AU #snowed in #fic #anotherbechloeshipper

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petri808 · 3 years

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Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

When Bakugou finally woke up in the Ena City Hospital, his head was splitting worse than a punch from Kirishima in full quirk, and ears rang with the force of all 108 New Year’s bell tolls. If he’d had no memory of the night before, Bakugou swore he’d just survived the worst hangover in history. Even his eyes hurt from the bright, piercing fluorescent lights and they weren’t even open! He turned his head to the side, noticing how much effort it took just to shift in such a small manner. It was as if his body was drained of... “Ugh, that bastard,” he groaned. ‘Fucker bit me.’ And as if to add insult to injury, a pin-prick pain in his neck revealed itself in that revelation.

His arm flopped up, hand straining with jerky strokes, reaching to touch the fresh bite wound located at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He flinched at the tender, bruising pain that sent a shock down his spine. Son-of— This just in! Pro Hero Dynamite cast in one of those cliché vampire movies that went straight to video. Definitely not the career start he’d envisioned.

“Oh, good you’re finally awake Mr. Bakugou.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat at the male voice. “And can someone turn the fucking lights off?!”

“I am Doctor Ishihira, and my apologies,” the doctor flicked off the overhead light. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he grumped.

“Mr. Bakugou, you were found yesterday morning and brought in suffering from hypovolemic shock due to severe blood loss and dehydration. We’ve treated you with 3 liters of IV fluids and blood plasma to bring your numbers back up, however you’ll still be groggy until your body replenishes the nutrients you were stripped of.”

Over a day had passed! At hearing he’d been out cold for so long, Bakugou immediately clenched his fists, swearing up and down about being released until they threatened to sedate him for longer. Longer?! He begrudgingly relented and settled down, but damn it! That meant Midoriya had another head start on him again! And now that the man knew he was on his trail, finding him would be a lot more difficult!

“What the hell is hypo-whatever shock?” Bakugou questioned.

“When you were found, you were in and out of consciousness and rambling incoherently, all signs of severe blood loss. The fatigue you’re still feeling is also due to the effects of it. Luckily the amount of loss wasn’t enough to start shutting down your organs.”

The doctor continued explaining a few more details regardless of the tantrum like a robot. Minor injuries he’d been treated for. The obvious puncture wounds in his neck, questioning Bakugou about any description he could provide of his attacker. He wasn’t about to tell this doctor or any authority figure who the true culprit was, so he feigned a temporary retrograde amnesia. Based on a raised brow, peering over his glass’s expression, the doctor didn’t look very convinced. Oh well, Bakugou really didn’t care about the man’s opinion.

“Mr. Bakugou, we also called you parents…”

“You what?!” Bakugou tried to jump off the bed, but his body absolutely refused to respond and ended up flopping like a dying fish. Ugh! He really was worse off than he’d thought.

“I’m sorry, but you are a minor, so we were obligated to do so. However, they did give us permission to treat and release you on your own recognizance once we felt you were better.”

Well, that was good news. ‘Sounds like mom actually listened to my letter.’ Or the authorities surely would have shown up by now. “Ugh! So, how much longer am I stuck here?”

“If you continue to recover well, tomorrow morning.”

Fuck! Now a three-day head start! Just great, he groaned. Midoriya could get far away with that kind of a jump start. “Fine, whatever! Now go the fuck away.”

The doctor left the room after explaining how nurses will be monitoring his progress, but to also let them know if anything started to feel worse. They needed to know if he developed any lasting effects from organ damage. Once he was alone again, Bakugou rolled gingerly onto his side as his mind processed the new information. Whatever Midoriya had been hit with must be the cause of this weird blood thirst that resembled a goddamn vampire plot line. Perhaps the significance of the blood coloring in his eyes was a sign of that thirst taking hold? That’ll be a handy tell, too bad it seemed to appear within seconds of the next step.

But if Midoriya had just fed on a victim, and history showed at times, a span of days before the next incident, what had caused his friend to attack him so fast? Was this thirst like a hunger? And what happens when you exercise or exert yourself? You use up energy. ‘Duh, Katsuki.’ Fighting and expending all that energy must have triggered the attack. ‘Wow, it burns fast.’ That meant Midoriya probably struggled to control this thirst, and that’s why he was pleading for him to leave him alone. But sorry, he couldn’t do that. ‘Fucker shouldn’t have run!’ One way or another he is getting his friend back home where he belonged. In fact, this only made his drive to find Midoriya stronger because he felt like he was partially to blame for the predicament his friend was in. The guy had to be scared, freaked out, and lonely. Bakugou’s heart clenched at the thought. He knew his friend was a social person by nature who loved being around friends and family. To be stuck out here all by himself and too frightened because of whatever this new quirk was had to be horrible… and utterly not fair. Of course, he did have a tendency to isolate himself when he feared…

Bakugou groaned. “Kami, not again with this shit!” When was Midoriya gonna learn to stop running away!

As his eyes relented to the fatigue and his mind slipped back into unconsciousness, Bakugou could only pray he’ll get a lead as soon as he got out of this hospital. This strange new quirk, if that’s really what it was, posed a serious danger not only to Midoriya, but the public. The reputation of pro hero’s had taken a major hit already because of AFO and the league, so if the public found out about a blood drinking hero attacking people… ‘I gotta get you out of here…’

After his encounter with Bakugou, Midoriya had rushed out of town as quickly as possible. Tears poured down his cheeks as he took off into the sky from having given in to the lust of this uncontrollable quirk. But he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He’d learned the hard way right at the beginning that once it took hold of his mind, the only thing he could do was give-in or succumb to an even worse ravenous state that literally hurt. The pain of holding out on the hunger made him feel like a starved predatory animal that tore at his insides until he relented. In this state, the blood of any creature that came too close became a meal. But it was never enough. Animal blood didn’t satiate him in the same way that human blood did. Plus, he worried that if he let it get completely out of control, he might just end up killing someone. So far, he’d been lucky to leave them all unconscious but alive.

It was obvious that the light AFO had hit him with contained this strange quirk. How ironic, to take down a villain, only to be turned into one. That’s how Midoriya felt. How else could he feel? A hero wouldn’t hurt other people, so by taking the blood of others for sustenance, that made him a villain. Therefore, he couldn’t be a hero anymore. It must have been AFO’s plan all along once he’d realized he was losing. The villains end goal was to ruin hero society and this was definitely one way to do it. Take out his primary rival. The man poised to carry on a torch of safety and security, and snuff out any who chose to do harm… The whole situation with Bakugou really turned this into a nightmare out of body experience. To see his friend’s eyes suddenly show fear, then fade away the more he drank… his mouth clamped to the man’s neck… it was a horrible imagine that was sure to haunt him. He could still smell the burnt cinnamon from such a close encounter. If only he had clothes to change into or even a pond to bathe in, because that lingering scent was gonna drive him mad!

Midoriya curled up and clenched his eyes shut tight in an abandoned and overgrown castle he’d found outside of Ena. It didn’t look like it’s been maintained for a very long time, so the likelihood of a human showing up seemed low. He knew he should have travelled farther away, but he was too tired, too upset and just wanted to quit. All the years of growing up quirkless, to gain OFA and become the very thing he’d dreamt of, only for those dreams to be dashed again. It was as if life just didn’t want him to be a real hero. Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery, and yet— he couldn’t do it. To die out here alone where no one knew where he was or what had become of him, that wasn’t fair to his family and friends…

They must be so worried about him right now. His poor mother didn’t deserve any of this. Would his friends look down on him now? And All Might, his idol, who’d taken him under his wing, was he disappointed? And that just left Bakugou. He’d said the truth in answering the man’s question. No, Midoriya never would have expected him to come looking. Katsuki Bakugou giving a damn about him? Yeah, right. Bakugou wasn’t doing this because he cared. There was always a selfish reason behind his madness. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Shouldn’t big bad Dynamight be thrilled that his biggest rival was gone?

Okay that was a big, fat white lie he’d been telling himself for the last two years. He knew Bakugou had moved past those pettier behaviors, but it was simply easier to believe and keep their relationship as rivals than to hope his childhood friend would ever see him as something else. And yet… ‘Kacchan was genuinely surprised by my answer. Did he really come looking for me because he cared that much?’ Yet in what way? Why was the man trying so hard? Did he… ‘miss me?’

Midoriya shook his head violently of those thoughts. No, no, he didn’t want to believe that because it would make this situation even more unbearable than it already was! He’d already given up everything he’d ever loved. His hopes and dreams, a future and losing an affection he’d craved for years would just simply be too much.

#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku canon divergent au #blood quirk #vampire quirk #bakudeku au #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #decchan #ktdk #ch 6 #bloody passion #petri808

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justforbooks · 3 years

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François Roland Truffaut was born on February 6, 1932. He was a French film director, screenwriter, producer, actor, and film critic. He is widely regarded as one of the founders of the French New Wave. In a career lasting over a quarter of a century, he remains an icon of the French film industry, having worked on over 25 films. Truffaut's film The 400 Blows is a defining film of the French New Wave movement, and has four sequels, Antoine et Colette, Stolen Kisses, Bed and Board, and Love on the Run, between 1958 and 1979.

Truffaut's 1973 film Day for Night earned him critical acclaim and several accolades, including the BAFTA Award for Best Film and the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. His other notable films include Shoot the Piano Player (1960), Jules and Jim (1961), The Soft Skin (1964), The Wild Child (1970), Two English Girls (1971), The Last Metro (1980), and The Woman Next Door (1981).

Truffaut also wrote the notable book Hitchcock/Truffaut (1966) which detailed his interviews with film director Alfred Hitchcock during the 1960s. Truffaut expressed his admiration for filmmakers such as Luis Buñuel, Ingmar Bergman, Robert Bresson, Roberto Rossellini, and Alfred Hitchcock.

On Jean Renoir, he said: "I think Renoir is the only filmmaker who's practically infallible, who has never made a mistake on film. And I think if he never made mistakes, it's because he always found solutions based on simplicity—human solutions. He's one film director who never pretended. He never tried to have a style, and if you know his work—which is very comprehensive, since he dealt with all sorts of subjects—when you get stuck, especially as a young filmmaker, you can think of how Renoir would have handled the situation, and you generally find a solution".

Truffaut and Jean-Luc Godard, his colleague from Cahiers de Cinema, worked together closely during their start as film directors although they had different working methods. Tensions came to the surface after May 68: Godard wanted a more political, specifically Marxist cinema, Truffaut was critical of creating films for primarily political purposes. In 1973, Godard accused Truffaut of making a movie that was a "lie" (Day For Night), and Truffaut replied with a 20-page letter in which he accused Godard of being a radical-chic hypocrite, a man who believed everyone to be "equal" in theory only. "The Ursula Andress of militancy—like Brando—a piece of shit on a pedestal." The two never spoke or saw each other again. But Godard tried to reconcile with Truffaut later on, and after his death wrote the introduction to a collection of his letters and a long tribute in his film Histoire(s) du cinéma.

Truffaut was married to Madeleine Morgenstern from 1957 to 1965, and they had two daughters, Laura (born 1959) and Eva (born 1961). Madeleine was the daughter of Ignace Morgenstern, managing director of one of France's largest film distribution companies, and was largely responsible for securing funding for Truffaut's first films.

Truffaut was an inveterate womanizer and had affairs with many of his leading ladies, including Marie-France Pisier (Antoine and Colette, Love on the Run), Jeanne Moreau (Jules and Jim, The Bride Wore Black), Françoise Dorléac (The Soft Skin), Julie Christie (Fahrenheit 451), Catherine Deneuve (Mississippi Mermaid, The Last Metro), and Jacqueline Bisset (Day for Night). Truffaut also fell for Isabelle Adjani during the filming of The Story of Adele H. but his advances were rebuffed.

In 1968 Truffaut was engaged to actress Claude Jade (Stolen Kisses, Bed and Board, Love on the Run); he and Fanny Ardant (The Woman Next Door, Confidentially Yours) lived together from 1981 to 1984 and had a daughter, Joséphine Truffaut (born 28 September 1983).

Truffaut was an atheist, but had great respect for the Catholic Church and requested a mass for his funeral.

In July 1983, Truffaut rented France Gall's and Michel Berger's house outside Honfleur, Normandy (composing for Philippe Labro's film Rive droite, rive gauche) when he had his first stroke and was diagnosed with a brain tumor. He was expected to attend his friend Miloš Forman's Amadeus premiere when he died on 21 October 1984, aged 52, at the American Hospital in Neuilly-sur-Seine in France.

At the time of his death, he had numerous films in preparation. He had intended to make 30 films and then retire to write books for the remainder of his life. He was five films short of that aim. He is buried in Montmartre Cemetery.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #François Truffaut #Famous Birthdays

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ladyreapermc · 4 years

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KEANU MASTER LIST

KEANU REEVES - One Shots

Netflix and Chill: Keanu picks you up for your date

Cuddle Session: On a rainy Saturday morning, you spend the morning in bed with your boyfriend.

Solace: after an anxiety attack, Keanu is there to comfort you.

Random Meetings: you meet Keanu at an after-party.

Vintage: you take care of a tired and sore Keanu

By the Poolside (smut): Keanu finds you taking some time off by the pool

Cherry Cola Milkshake (smutish): Keanu tries out your favorite dessert

Think Twice(smut): you’re making a new rom-com with Keanu and your ex-boyfriend. Jealousy ensues.

Smell of your Skin(smut): Keanu’s coming home after being away for a press tour.

Kiss me thru the phone (smut): You’re away from home for work. Phone sex happens.

Graham Norton: based off Keanu’s first appearance in Graham Norton and the ‘I never’ bit.

Together: Keanu finds out about the reader’s depression and bulimia and comfort her.

Misbehaving (smut): you meet Keanu in a party and the two of you end up having public sex.

Leave your lover (smut): You’ve been friends for 15 years. Then one rainy night changes everything

Listen: you tell Keanu about a traumatic event that happened five years ago

Reunion: Keanu is your date for your high school reunion

Like Lust (smut): AU set on mid-nineties where Point Break bombed on the box offices and Keanu quit acting to become a musician. You meet him at a gig.

Just a trim: Keanu’s beard is a little out of control so you take matters into your own hands.

Punishment (smut): Teasers get punished. That’s the rule. And you teased him all through his show.

Tropical rain (smut): your vacation with Keanu on a tropical beach isn’t going as expected.

Maple Syrup (smut): Strangely enough, Keanu might be the one Canadian you know who doesn’t like maple syrup, but you are working on changing that.

About that Bass: seeing Keanu playing the bass is one of the hottest things you’ve witnessed.

What kind of man (smut): Tom was kind and funny and sweet. He was perfect for you. But he wasn’t what you wanted.

Play to win (smut): you make a bet with Keanu. Whover loses has to get naked. The only problem? You had no clue on how to play pool.

Helping Hand (smut): You’re horny, Keanu is away, so you take matters in your own hands.

KEANU REEVES - SERIES

This isn’t a rom-com (Keanu x OFC) (smut) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17: Keanu and Lilah meet at the set of John Wick. Rom-com shenanigans ensue (completed)

A Wish Your Heart Makes 1 2 3: Cinderella AU. During a masquerade ball, you end up kissing and falling in love with Keanu. Only one small problem, he’s your boss and you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place (completed)

Catching Feelings (Keanu x OFC) (smut) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10: AU in which Keanu is down on his luck after he comes to Hollywood trying to be an actor. To earn some money, he joins this app for escorts and meets Steph, a rising star who hires him to try to forget her ex. Neither of them is expecting to fall in love and all the problems it brings. (completed)

Thank you kindly Sir (smut): AU Keanu is a mechanic that helps you out when you’re out of luck Part 1 | Part 2

Always the Quiet Ones series

Always the Quiet Ones (smut): you’re a housekeeper in a hotel who gets seduced by one of the most important guests of the hotel.

The Proposal (smut): Follow up for Always the Quiet Ones. After a month away, Mr. Reeves is back and he has a proposal for you.

Dark Paradise (smut): AU! With their ‘arrangement’ in place, reader and Keanu go apartment hunting. Part of the Always the quiet ones universe.

Without you (smut): Keanu is gone and you have to deal with his absence and fixing your brandnew apartment on your own.

KEANU REEVES - DRABBLES

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30| 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 |

JACK TRAVEN - One Shots

At the amusement park: your first date with Jack at the amusement park

Stimulus Equivalence (smut): Jack distracts you while you’re trying to explain him a concept

Line of Sight (smut): you’re a sharpshooter for the LA SWAT when you meet Traven at a hostage situation

Come and See me (smut): after a bad day at work, reader asks Jack to come over for a booty call. Things don’t go exactly as planned.

Touch Too Much (smut): Jack has you tied and blindfolded and he likes to tease

Hanging by a Moment: For a long time you had a crush on Jack and before you could do anything about it, he met Annie. Now, two years later, maybe you two have a second chance.

JACK TRAVEN - Drabbles

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

JOHNNY UTAH - One Shots

Partners: There’s a stakeout and you’re stuck with Johnny Utah for a partner. You hate him. Kinda.

Surf Lessons: Johnny wants to teach you how to surf. You know it’s a bad idea.

Hatef—k (smut): Johnny is your partner and you hate him until a pencil skirt changes everything.

Closing Time (smut): You work at a clothing store, you get a last minute customer at closing time and sexy times happen.

JOHNNY UTAH - Drabbles

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 |

JOHN CONSTANTINE - One shots

Tremors: Summary: you comfort Constantine in his time of need

Movie Nights: Constantine takes you to the movies

Hell ain’t a bad place to be (smutish): Constantine meets Satan. They are not what he was expecting

Removing Temptation: you try to help John quit smoking. He’s not all that happy with that.

Toxic (smut): you’re about to get married when you get a visit from Constantine

JOHN CONSTANTINE - Drabbles

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |

JOHN WICK - One Shots

Meet Cute (John x OFC): Lilah finally gets to meet the tall, dark and handsome man she had been lowkey crushing on for the last four months when his dog gets loose and comes to play with her

Safe and Sound: John comes home from a mission and needs a back rub.

Too Sober, Enough Sass: you meet a tall, dark and handsome stranger who saves your life

Blood in the Cut (smut): follow up to too sober, enough sass. You find John Wick in your apartment, hurt and in need of a place to stay

Empty Chair (smut): John is tied to a chair. You have all the control

Dark of the matinee (smut): John takes you to the movies, but he can only focus on you.

Salute: you catch John signing and dancing (sort of) to your favorite song

Sick day: John gets sick and you take care of him

Kisses in the dark: John returns home late at night after a job and tries not to wake you.

Ballerina: Jardani helps a ballerina in the Ruska Roma.

Blurry Lines (smut): Wick is after a guy who sometimes work for you and that puts you under his radar so you run. Not fast enough though.

My Boy Builds Coffins (smut): Follow up to this drabble. You and John get some unwanted visitors during sex.

Friday Night: t’s been a long week, but fortunately John is there to make it better

JOHN WICK - Series

Sympathy for the Devil (smut) 1 2 3 4: Your best friend is getting married and you’re very excited until you find out that your ex is coming to the wedding. After a night of too much drinking and without a date for the big day, you summon a demon to make a deal (completed).

BROOKLYN BABY SERIES

Brooklyn Baby (smut): AU. John knew he was going to regret letting his daughter Daisy throw her 21st birthday party in his house. He just didn’t know how much.

A little loss of innocence (smut): AU. After your encounter with Mr. Wick during Daisy’s birthday, you can’t stop thinking about him and decide to pay him a visit.

Insatiable Craving (smut): AU. Visiting Daisy’s dorm, John runs into Y/N instead and they can’t keep their hands off each other.

Make it Hurt (Smut): AU Bee visits John and finds a very different man than she has grown used to. A very good kind of different in her opinion.

Play with Fire (Smut): AU. When Daisy shows up unannounced, John has to find a way to play it cool while Bee is being a tease

JOHN WICK - Drabbles

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

Other characters - One shots

Your racing heart (Julian x Reader): after fainting, you’re taken to the hospital and Julian is your doctor.

In your Arms (Julian x Reader): Julian comforts the reader after they lose a patient

I’ll Wait (Julian x Reader): Follow up to Your racing heart. You ran into Julian again at a coffee shop when he’s awkwardly talking to his ex. You pretend to be his girlfriend to give a hand.

Domestic (Julian x Reader): based on this anon request - Can i request a Dr. Julian Mercer x reader domestic fluff????

Boy for Rent (Scott x Reader): Scott asks you to stay after a night of work

Trade mistakes (Dr. Beck x Reader) (smut): You’re a call girl and Dr. Beck is your client. You shouldn’t be getting this close to him, but it’s impossible not to.

Treat me like your boyfriend (Matt x Reader): when Matt asked you to tutor him, you weren’t aware of the mess you were about to step in.

Sweep Escape (Kai x Reader) (smut): you meet Kai in the slave ship. He’s a fighter, you’re a healer. Both against your will. Being together is a solace against the horrors of the world.

Closer (Donaka Mark; August x Reader) (smut): you and August go undercover to dig information on a Donaka Mark, but get caught and end up in a very unsual situation.

Other characters - Drabbles

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7| 8 |

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves master list #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine

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miggyfan · 3 years

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21 with miggy☺️

…on a scar.

…on a place of insecurity.

“Scar tissue”

Juliet was going to kill him…

She wasn’t even kidding…

She really wanted to strangle him, or even better to feed him to the dogs.

After running for hours to escape some drug dealers in the jungle, Juliet and Magnum were now trying to get back to their car, in the middle of a storm, drenched under the rain and wading through so much mud, that she had almost lost a shoe, stucked into the sludge.

With one look, Magnum had understood that he’d better not laugh at her.

The murderous glare she gave him when his lips started to curl upward in a grin, prevented him from teasing her, and trying to deflect the situation in his usual attempt at humor.

Juliet knew they needed to change themselves before going into the jungle, but according to her so smart partner it was unnecessary, it was just a quick check into an abandonned mansion, so why bother to go back to Robin’s nest to get a better outfit ?

So he bit back a laugh, and crouched into the mud to help his Cinderella look for her shoe.

He didn’t even laugh when she slipped and fell on her ass in a loud splash, because she had stubbornly refused his help to steady her, to put her shoe back on.

‘God…’ he wanted to laugh so hard...

Magnum thought he really did deserved an oscar for his performance on self control, when he saw the scowl on her offended face covered in mud.

He was glad they were in the middle of a storm.

The cold rain was doing a wonderful job at hidding his tears and covering the sounds of his laughter, as she was awkwardly trying to walk in the mud in high heels, nearly slipping every five minutes.

Of course, when they went back to the Ferrari, the convertible car had been practically swamped by the rain, so their day was getting better and better by the minute.

Now, they were both snuggled in a makeshift bed in another abandonned cabin in the jungle, trying to keep each other warm, despite Juliet’s growing animosity.

She was shivering against him, even if they had gotten rid of their wet clothes, she had a hard time conserving heat.

She had insisted on being the bigger spoon, he probably could understand why, being almost naked under the same blanket to share some heat was one thing, but being nestled between his arms was definitely another.

He didn’t want to invade her personal space, if she was angry with him. He was just worried about her getting cold, while she was warming him in her embrace.

« Are you sure you are okay ? You would be warmer in my arms, you know… » He asked in a low tone, concerned by the way she was shivering behind him.

« Magnum… » She replied, in a warning tone.

« Don’t worry, I’m a gentleman… I would never take advantage of the situation. »

Juliet tensed behind him, she tightened her arms around him and snuggled closer. « I know… » Her voice was softer than expected, she was tired, and she seemed less angry with him.

« Are you sure you’re alright ? You seemed awfully quiet suddenly ?... Higgy ? »

Juliet didn’t want to tell him that being caught in a storm reminded her of the last time they got stucked in la Mariana with Ethan.

She didn’t want to talk about their break-up, or why she had refused to leave Robin’s nest to live with him.

She didn’t want to talk about their last fight, when he had accused her of being in love with her partner, and the fact that she couldn’t denied it, breaking Ethan’s heart with her silence.

Instead, she went for the jugular, and followed the scar tissues in Magnum’s back with the tip of her finger, silencing him, and making him tensed suddenly in her arms.

« You have a lot of scars on your back… »

Her voice was so low, he could barely hear it, but her hands were soft around him, her warm palm slowly grazing the bare skin of his chest.

It wasn’t a question.

It was just a statement, like she was aknowledging his dark past for the first time.

Juliet sighed, letting her head rest against his back, who was awfully quiet now ?...

They never really discussed it together, Rick had told her a few bits about it, without going into details.

They barely broached the subject, always talking about somebody else, never failing to avoid the elephant in the room.

« Yeah… I know, I was supposed to get some skin grafts to cover them, but I was so tired of staying in hospital, so… »

« I’m glad you didn’t… »

Magnum tensed once again, he hissed when her hand slid against the one on his stomach, her fingers slowly grazing his abs, making his muscles shift under her touch.

« Higgy ? »

« I like them… They remind me that you are stronger than you look. That you are a survivor… Just like me… We were both hurt, but we are still fighting…»

The storm was still raging outside.

But the rumble of the sky, the howling of the wind were nothing compared to all the feelings suddenly flooding him, threatening to swallow him whole.

« Juliet… Are you okay ? Did something happened ? »

« You never asked ?... About Ethan ? »

Magnum sighed, he was glad for the darkness in the cabin, he didn’t trust the expression in his eyes.

« I wasn’t sure you were ready to talk about it… You told me to shut up ! » And he laughed a little, trying once again to ease the tension in the room.

« And you usually never listened… Why only this time ? »

« I don’t know… I didn’t want to pressure you into anything… I know how hard it can be, how bad it can hurt… »

Juliet tightened her arms around him, and his heart skipped a beat when he felt the warm touch of her lips against the torn skin in his back.

This time he turned around, and hugged her tight against his chest, the feeling of her snuggling herself closer to his body made him shiver, but not because of the cold.

He pulled the blanket higher on their bodies, not sure from who he was hiding them, and he took a deep breath to keep from moaning softly, as he felt her warm and soft body pressed against his.

Her fingers grazed the scar on his chest, the one Annah had given him, and his breath hitched when her nails gently scraped against it.

« Does it still hurt ? » She asked.

« No… »

Juliet pressed her face in the warm shelter between his broad shoulders and whispered : « This one still hurt… » She mumbled in the crook of his neck, as she grabbed his hand to press it against the scar on her stomach, where the bullet had almost killed her.

« I think it’s still hurt because I wasn’t honnest with you, because I didn’t want to hear what you wanted to say… »

And Magnum remembered this day when he took her out of hospital, and he wanted to confess his feelings for her.

But the look in her eyes was begging him to not do it, to not push their relationship on a road unexplored.

They fell silent for a while, they both welcomed the obscurity, hidding their flushed bodies into the darkness.

She was scared back then…

She wasn’t anymore…

All the scars on his body showing her, that even if they could get hurt, they could survived together…

« Tell me… » She asked in a low tone, « tell me now… »

And the soft touch of her lips upon the scar on his upper lip urged the words out of him :

« I love you… »

#prompt game #ask #writing #fanfiction #miggy fic #miggy prompt #magnum pi #magnum x higgins

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makinglifebetter · 3 years

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Hi. Hello. And welcome.

This blog will be about changes I need to make in my life. Below the cut *points to the 'keep reading' below* I'll explain in more detail.

If you don't want to read about the changes I'll be making, you can check out my TikTok and see them in action.

When I opened my TikTok account over a year ago, it was just so I could follow my favorite creators. But over the past several months, it has become clear that I need to make some major changes in my life. I need to be held accountable to make, and stick with, those changes. And what better way, than by putting it all out there for complete strangers to see?

I don't expect anyone to like or follow, this is one hundred percent for me. So, please, do not feel obligated to like or follow.

On to the reason for these changes.

I always say that I've always been overweight, but that's just not true. I have pictures of myself where I am a normal weight. I didn't actually start putting on the pounds until two things happened: 1) I hit puberty (or rather it hit me) and 2) I was diagnosed as having scoliosis.

I was told that my curvature was just a couple of degrees shy of needing surgery but was low enough on my spine to not need the brace that went up my neck (I remember looking at the x-ray and wondering how I wasn't a hunchback).

I was required to wear the brace twenty-three hours a day. That included gym class and bathing (according to my mother). It was incredibly uncomfortable and I hated the way it was obvious I was wearing it.

I became an introvert because of it.

My weight has fluctuated over the years, as most overweight people's weight has. When I graduated from high school, I was at my lowest. Several years ago I found out I was at my highest.

February 14, 2020, started as any other day. But when I got up to get ready for work, the room spun a bit. I suffer from vertigo so thought nothing of it. Until I was standing at the sink, brushing my teeth. The attack was so bad, I was clutching the counter to keep from falling down.

I texted my boss (luckily she also suffers from vertigo). She told me to rest and feel better.

As the day went on, I started to cough and I knew that meant I was getting my yearly cold. Now, I rarely get sick the same time every year. I usually get sick between September and December with November being the month I get sick the most often. I had my yearly cold in February of 2015 and it turned into pneumonia (the week I moved into this apartment). One memorable year, I had it the week of my birthday. In July.

I cannot remember if I told my mother and daughter I was calling off sick. But the next day, my mother called me. As soon as I answered she told me to call the doctor and she would take me.

While there, they became concerned about my blood pressure. They were afraid I would either have a heart attack or stroke out. So, they sent us to the emergency room.

While at the clinic, they did a rapid strep and a rapid flu test. Both came back negative.

At the hospital, they did the tests again. The nurse that did the swab, shoved it so roughly down my throat, I threw up all over myself.

Those tests also came back negative.

My mother says they told her I had the flu but none of my paperwork says that. Sepsis is all over my paperwork, but other than the negative flu test, it's not mentioned. I think I might have had COVID but since I got on broad-spectrum antibiotics early, it wasn't able to truly infect me.

They admitted me and began treating me for high blood pressure and type 2 diabetes. And something about my good cholesterol being too low?

I felt fine until early evening on Sunday. I'm not sure what time I fell asleep, but it was early. I think I woke briefly Monday morning and moved from the bed to the chair. But then I slept all of Monday. Or rather, I couldn't open my eyes and interact with the doctors and nurses. Until late afternoon. I woke up, my mother convinced me to order something to eat (I ordered toast and ate half of one slice), and then I was asleep again a little after seven (I know based on what was on the TV at the time).

Tuesday I was fine. It was like nothing had happened the day before. In fact, they discharged me that evening.

While in the hospital, I lost thirty pounds. Then lost another nine pounds over the next few months. But then I put some back on. I am currently (as of 7/15/21) four pounds heavier than when I left the hospital in February of 2020 which, considering how I eat, is something of a mystery to me.

My A1C is still over seven and my readings, while consistently under 150, are not where me or my doctor want them.

I told her that I want to lose twenty pounds and not have to take insulin before a meal by the time I see her again in October. The only way I can make that happen is by changing how I eat (something I already started). I know I need to exercise as well, but I don't really have room for that.

So, starting tomorrow, I will be posting TikToks of my glucose readings and what I'm eating. And of my attempts at getting my house cleaner.

And the other reason for the change is I have been in this horrible place six years too long (I moved in in February of 2015) and I am more than ready to move.

But I have a bug problem. I know I have contributed to it, I'm not the best housekeeper, but a lot of it is from when a neighbor moved out two or three years ago.

Before I move, I want to be as bug free as I can be so that I don't risk taking any of them with me.

I have tried in the past to have someone hold me accountable but it didn't really work. They never asked for pictures and if I said I didn't feel well, they didn't tell me to do at least the dishes or pick up trash. I'm not putting all the blame on them, I am the one who didn't want to clean and knew they wouldn't tell me I needed to despite not wanting to.

So, I will post at least three vids a day, with the exception of when I go out to eat or to do my laundry at my mother's. I will still take a screenshot of my glucose reading, but I won't be showing what I ate. I don't really want to have to explain it to my parents.

If you want, you are more than free to poke me if I don't post a vid by a time certain. I do not expect anyone to take me up on this, but just thought I'd put it out there.

If you've stuck around this long, thank you for reading.

Thank you for stopping by. Don't be a stranger!

#life changes #personal goals #me #unfucking my life

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alpaca-writes · 3 years

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Mystics, Chapter 22

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Read Chapters 1-21 and more HERE

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump

CW: very sad... like quite sad. Not the saddist I have planned for him, but obviously Lyrem centric because it is sad. Also Memory whump :) and Cancer mention :(

If you enjoy my work and are reading my stories then please do me a teeny tiny favor and reblog my work! Xx. - Alpaca.

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

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: ROOM 111

Lyrem opened his eyes, exhausted from the effort to stay awake. The nurse released his hand from the man’s shoulder as he remembered what he would be waking up to and Lyrem jolted upright in the navy cloth seat. The waiting room was painted white from top to bottom with just a bit of colour on the walls in the failed attempt for the area to feel welcoming.

“Sir,” the nurse addressed him. “Your wife is out of surgery now.”

Lyrem sniffed and stood up, the weight of a clear stone sat in his pocket. On it was etched a symbol of an oddly shaped wheel with three prongs. It was the only thing holding him together-especially now as his legs were fighting him the whole way down the hall. Truthfully, he didn’t want to see her. He was afraid to see her.

He imagined tubes. Too many tubes. Sticking out of Maria at every direction- smeared with rusty patches of blood- in pain and breathing with difficulty. He’d have to deliver her water, probably; Ask for a nurse to give her more pillows and more pain relief, too. He should have brought flowers- what kind of idiot forgets to bring flowers to his wife’s hospital bed?!

“Can I speak with the surgeon?” Lyrem stuck out a hand, brushing the forearm of the nurse who would lead him to Maria. “Can I know…”

He couldn’t finish the question- how much longer she has?

The nurse paused to nod him a sympathetic smile.

“The surgeon will be available to speak with you both soon.”

Lyrem choked back a small breath. Maria was awake? He didn’t think she would be awake. The nurse left him outside the door with the silver numbers 111 beside it. His reflection, nailed to the door jam, played his fear back to him. It reminded him that he couldn’t be afraid. He wouldn’t let her know he was.

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes before crossing over the threshold- perhaps it was out of habit. Part of him even wished the Labyrinth might take him instead of Room 111.

“Oh, who’s this handsome fella?”

Lyrem’s mouth curled at the edges. Before speaking, he reached into his jacket, and pulled out a small yellow book.

“His name’s Aurelius.”

Maria chuckled lightly. The book was set down on the attached table to the bedframe. She didn’t reach for it. Lyrem found his eyes drifting away from hers each time he felt the contact lingered for too long. Her eyes like storm clouds, were once bright and lively. Today, and for many days previous, they had sunken in her growing sickness.

“Did they tell you anything, yet?” Lyrem asked with his eyes to the geometric carpeted floor. It was badly stained and needed desperate replacing.

Maria shook her head and closed her eyes. There were tubes just helping the oxygen flow and not much else other than an IV and blood oxygen monitor clipped to her finger. He could hear the laborious breathing though. That was something she didn’t have before she had come in. Before she had said much at all, Lyrem sensed that she was tired.

“You should keep it,” she said softly, nodding to the book. “I’ve read it a thousand times over. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’ve finally achieved enlightenment?”

“Stop being a goose,” she commanded. “You’d learn a lot from it. Just take it already.”

Lyrem’s eyes clouded over. Swallowing, he sat down beside her on a simple black chair, and shook his head.

“No, I don’t need it.”

Maria sighed. Her eyes disappointed in his condescending and stubborn refusals, though she was not at all surprised by it.

“Lyrem… we both know what he is going to say”-

“No, we don’t. We haven’t heard anything from the surgeon yet”-

“The chance that I recover even with chemo is extremely low”-

“There are always alternative treatments if it becomes too hard for you”-

“I know I don’t have much longer”-

“For fuck sake’s, Maria! Are you really so desperate to get rid of me?!”

A hush fell through the room. There wasn’t a sound, save the steps of nurses and doctors directing themselves through the halls and the odd traveling visitor. Lyrem’s head fell, his face red with shame…

“You think that I want to get rid of you?”

“No, I didn’t mean that.”

“You think I’d rather die than be by your side, Lyrem?”

“No, I”-

“I would never,” her voice shook with an anger hardly seen. Her eyes burned with tears of betrayal and what Lyrem would have only seen as regret if he was ever brave enough to meet her gaze. “Ever tell you that. I would never choose to discard you like that”-

“Maria, I”-

“I stood by your side. I was always there for you and I waited for you for ages”-

“I know, my love. I’m s”-

“I loved you, Lyrem.”

“I’m so sorry, Maria.”

Loved.

He waited, holding his breath, but Maria was finished speaking. In fact, she didn’t even notice how she had placed that single letter at the end of the word that meant so much. He had noticed it immediately. He rubbed the palm of his hand down his face and stood up.

“Where is that goddamn surgeon?!”

Lyrem stepped out of the room, only to find himself face to face with a doctor- or who he assumed to be one. She was tall, dark skinned and donned a long white coat. Her hands clasped in front of her, as if she had expected him to appear there.

“Lyrem Nomadus?”

Startled by the sudden contact, he straightened against the door jam and nodded in confirmation. His striped button up shirt billowed out slightly and was left partially untucked; the last evidence that a man of his position had given up. Stepping out of the way, he allowed the woman into the room.

Maria had already drifted into an exhausted sleep in the time that he had left for the door and returned to his chair. She deserved the rest. Reaching out, he held Maria’s hand. Her skin was rough and dry from the cold, unfeeling hospital where she had been staying for some time. There was a small bottle of lotion near the headboard. He took some in his hands and began to massage hers tenderly as she slept; almost placing him into a calming, meditative trance. It smelled of lilacs.

“Stage four,” the woman said simply.

“Yes, we know,” Lyrem said robotically. “You’re not the doctor we spoke with before she went under. Where is he?”

“He was on his way, but became distracted with more …important patients.”

With a fire in his eyes, Lyrem snapped.

“My wife is the most important patient in this fucking building!”

“You’re quite a mouthy one, aren’t you?”

He huffed, and returned to attending Maria, concerned that his voice had woken her, he became still. The woman in the white coat closed the door gently and with a keen eye she studied Lyrem as he cradled his wife’s hand and placed a gentle kiss at the tips of her fingers.

“May I ask you a personal question, Lyrem?”

“What do you want to know?” He said tiredly.

“What is your definition of true love?”

He looked up, furrowing his brows.

“Excuse me?”

“What is it? True love, to you?”

Lyrem shifted in his seat, and thought for a couple moments. The inkling that this person was more than a doctor, or a surgeon for that matter, was quite clear.

“It’s something that is meant to be. It’s destiny, and it’s perfect.”

The woman hummed. “That is very cute. I hope you don’t mind me saying.”

“And may I ask the same question of you?” Lyrem posed indignantly. He lowered Maria’s hand to her side again. His eyes became more steeled. Serious.

The woman grinned and approached and danced her fingers along the bedspread. Her eyes continued to linger on him as she explained herself.

“True love…” she began. “To me… Exists and does not exist…

At the same time.

Everyone loves in a thousand different ways every single day.

And yet we do not count a thought, a touch, a kiss, as acts of true love?

What is any type of love, if not true?

If love is not true… Is it truly love?”

“Forget I asked,” Lyrem grumbled a sigh.

She giggled, like someone was tickling a feather against the back of her neck.

“What is so funny to you?”

“Oh, well,” she started. “I can feel your friend…the fiend. He’s trying to visit us now.” She lowered her voice to a playful whisper. “He can’t. I won’t let him interrupt.”

Lyrem nodded and stood up from his chair. Pulling out a pale yellow, cloudy stone from his pocket, he held it up. She regarded it with a nod.

“You’ve made yourself a moonstone. That is quite the feat.” she acknowledged. “All to summon little old me?”

Lyrem’s grip tightened on the stone. So, she was Hekate. She finally showed up. Only took her four bloody weeks. Maria had done a lot of suffering in that time.

“Yes.” He confirmed. Suspicious, more than hopeful, Lyrem placed it back into his pocket. “And I would like to make a deal with you”-

. . . . . . . .

“No!” The voice shouted through the darkness, the deeper one. “Where is it?!”

“Oh, for goodness sake’s Hades!” Persephone hollered. “Maybe it has nothing to do with Maria? Maybe his call was somewhere else. We’ll find it eventually; we just have to keep searching.”

“Hades!” Lyrem shouted. Once again, he was awoken into darkness from a deep memory. “Persephone! You both stop this charade right, bloody now!”

“Oh great, now he knows we’re here.”

Lyrem scoffed, his hands reaching his hips, he screamed right back once again. How dare they sift through his memories like old photos in a box, pulling him in and out of all the moments he wanted nothing more than to forget.

“You utter fools! I knew I would arrive here! I knew you’d both be waiting! And I absolutely despise this attempt at torture! It’s boring! It’s… It’s… aggravating. Just let me die, already!”

“I’m very sorry poor thing,” Persephone piped up, “But it’s really not meant to be torture for your little soul. We’re simply… looking for something”-

“I don’t care what you’re looking for. Get out of my min”-

. . . . . . . .

He was in a room.

The backroom.

Maria sat at the table with her small, thin, and wrinkled hands folded neatly. She only ever saw the back room once in her life and this was it. She had hardly looked around. Mystics was her pride and joy, but she wouldn’t be able to have it. Not anymore.

A bejeweled and bloody knife sat beside her hands.

“There’s enough money in your account for you to live happily. You’ll never have to worry about a thing,” Lyrem said as he sat across from her at the table.

“I never wanted to break your heart.” She spoke softly.

He should have noticed it earlier; the small changes in her voice when she spoke to him, the softness in her eyes that had grown calloused; the unfeeling nature of her hand in his. It wasn’t the sickness that had brought it on. This had been the nature of their love for a long, lonely time.

“My heart’s fine,” he said coldly.

Perspectives had changed since she had survived her battle with cancer. Maria loved him well for many years, but her life with him was over now. Lyrem saw that now too- he was just too afraid to admit it.

After Hekate’s deal, and Maria had been miraculously healed in a way that doctors would study for years to come. She had reconnected with an old friend through the ordeal when Lyrem was away, searching for ways to keep her alive. The friend was one who had divorced his wife and was now living in Cuba, retired and carefree. Phillip had a lovely beach house, with a dock, and a yacht, and one of those jacuzzi tubs that Maria could never get enough of when she found herself in a nice hotel.

“Give me your hand,” he requested, holding his own out for her to take one last time.

The hand she offered had been scarred many times over and rarely had her wound ever been re-opened on purpose. Occasionally, Maria would see something she was not supposed to or know something that could have dire consequences for Lyrem if it ever was released into the world. It was safer if her memories were simply removed.

This time, he wanted to erase himself.

Everything they had ever done, he wanted it gone. He ushered her out the back door as her escort. Their final words had been shared. A cab would pick her up outside of Mystics in a few minutes to take her to the airport with a pair of packed yellow suitcases.

“Memorias vim ex”-

“Wait,” she stopped him, and stared up at his aged features. She wondered if she would still see him as handsome as he was now when her memories of him were gone. “I still… I care about you, Lyrem. Please, take care of yourself. Promise me.”

Any softness left in his eyes immediately hardened. He told himself he didn’t care what she had left to say. She had wasted enough of her life with him already. There wasn’t a moment to lose.

“Memorias vim extermina.”

The cut on her hand healed itself thoroughly, fusing the skin together to leave not much more than a thin red welt on her palm. She turned back toward the street. The only thing on her mind now, was where to wait for her cab.

He stepped into the back room, as silently as possible, just in time for Hades to bring him back into his present situation with a well fueled rage.

“If you hedonistic cretins don’t stop what you’re doing, right now, I”-

“You poor mortal man,” the deep voice claimed. “You still bear my mark, don’t you?”

There was a dim blue glow. Finally, something for Lyrem to address properly.

“Yes,” he spoke through gritted teeth, nearly pulling his hair out at the madness that was threatening to overtake him. Instead, his hand hovered over a spot on the upper left of his chest, mindful of the brand that Hades had blessed him with many years ago. “Quite frankly, it’s been a thorn in my side for decades.”

“A simple reminder of what you owe me.” Hades corrected him, stepping out of the light. His towering figure loomed over Lyrem. Hades snapped his fingers, bringing more light into the cavernous realm. Deep bluish hues overtook them both, painting Hades’ stark white beard with a cobalt glow.

“Your essence, your memories, everything you are,” Hades spoke; his voice echoed through the deep, dark gloom, “belongs to me.”

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 17 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer is concerned about Reader’s growing impulsiveness, but Reader is the one who gets a call from JJ asking if she can come get her boyfriend. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader   Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)   Content Warning: Discussions of drugs, death/dying, suicide, overdose; Alcohol, addiction, oral (male receiving), handjob, fingering, Daddy Kink, fights, PTSD, hospital talk, drunk smut w/ blanket consent Word Count: 12.5k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

When I opened the front door, I realized that I had returned to an empty home. I wasn’t sure which was weirder; the realization that the house was empty, or the fact that I was referring to her apartment as my home. It certainly had started to feel that way.

It never stopped being a shock that I would find a home in someone so quickly and with such little self-awareness. I'd certainly never suspected that the house we’d be in would also be shared with several other people, all of whom were significantly younger than me and shared almost no similarities with me beyond our love for (y/n).

And even if it wasn’t the weirder of the two realizations, the fact that she wasn’t there was definitely the more troubling one. I tried to gather at least a little evidence before I called her; I wasn’t exactly excited about being blindsided again. Judging by the red solo cups that were scattered in the kitchen, I had an idea of how her friends had spent the night. The fact that no one was here led me to another conclusion that I desperately hoped was inaccurate.

Her phone rang four times before she picked up, which was strange in itself. When she did pick up, she sounded like I expected her to. Tired. Groggy.

“Hello?”

“Hey little girl, where are you?” I hoped she couldn’t hear the fumbling of my keys in my pocket, or any other sign of just how anxious I’d gotten in the last three minutes. “Oh. I’m sorry, Spencer, I forgot I was supposed to see you today.” She mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic if not a little confused.

“You… forgot?” I repeated, quickly making my way over to the calendar hung on a bulletin board outside the kitchen, noting the nothingness over both the current and following week.

“Yeah, I guess I got carried away with school.”

She was lying. I couldn’t be for sure about what, but it was obvious. If she was really having that much trouble with classes, she would have told me. We’d gotten past the whole insecurity over me thinking she was stupid thing a long time ago, and she knew I would always let her learn it on her own if she didn’t want my help.

“... What are you not telling me?” I tried to make the words playful, although my hand was now nervously patting the side of my hip at an alarming rate.

“Nothing! I just got distracted. I’m... a little busy today so we should just meet up again next weekend.”

“A week?” I knew she was probably getting tired of me parroting her words, but that just seemed like a ludicrous amount of time. Usually, we went barely a day or two without seeing each other when I was in the city, cherishing the time together when I wasn't called away to attend to crimes halfway across the country.

“What’s going on?” My voice was quickly falling into that register that warned her I was about to start profiling her, whether I wanted to or not. And unfortunately, she chose the worst possible reaction to that warning, further tipping me off to the fact that something wasn't quite right.

“Spencer, stop being weird.”

But I wasn’t. I knew that I could be weird; it’s kind of my thing. If you looked up weird in the dictionary, you wouldn’t find my name, but you’d definitely find a description that perfectly characterized my personality.

“You’re the one being weird. Turn on your camera.”

“I can’t. It’s dark in here.” She shot back her answer so quickly, I knew that she had already anticipated the request.

“Then move.” I ordered more than suggested. She understandably didn’t take kindly to my reaction, but I know she also knew why I was doing it. The excuses she was giving weren’t even well thought out.

“What is this? An interrogation?” She scoffed, “Do you think I’m cheating on you with barely dissolved stitches in my intestines?”

I took a deep breath, sitting down at the kitchen table still sticky with leftover sugary liquor and turned the phone onto speaker. “Turn it on.” This time, my voice broke with the order. As much as that didn’t make it sound authoritative, it did make her feel guilty.

As the screen lit up, it all made sense in the worst possible way. She was forcing a fake smile, her other hand resting against her face in a failed attempt to draw attention away from the the mottled skin of her left eye.

“I’m not cheating on you. Happy?” The words were sharp on her tongue, an anger in her features paired well with the understanding that I wasn’t wrong to be worried. I honestly think that was what bothered her the most – that she wanted it to be nothing, for me to be overreacting, but knew that it was a little more serious that she let on.

“I’m definitely not happy. What happened?” I was already at the door by the time the sentence ended... She shut off her camera just as quickly, hearing the commotion from my side. “Where are you? I’m coming right now.”

She sighed, and I could see it clearly despite the fact that she wasn’t on my screen anymore. “I don’t want you to come here. Spencer, I’m fine.”

I might have believed her. I might have honestly given her the benefit of the doubt – let her lie to me a little, and just accept that a black eye wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. Eventually, she would tell me how she got it, so I wouldn’t need to worry about it.

But it became very obvious very quickly that it was not just a black eye.

“Ms. (Y/l/n)?” A third voice announced in the background, accompanied by the distinct sound of an alarm sounding in the distance.

“... Are you in a hospital?!”

“For fucks sake. I hate dating a profiler.” She grumbled, implicitly admitting that my conclusion was right. She wouldn’t let me have another word, speedily slurring her goodbye. “I have to go, Spencer. I’ll call you later. Love you!”

—————————————————

Anyone who has spent a long time in inpatient knows that nosy nurses are both the best and worst kind of people to be assigned to your stay. They were the best because they always had the best gossip and would spend their precious little free time sharing stories about their lives that were always more entertaining than whatever poorly budgeted gameshow was on the old, staticky television.

They were the worst because one wrong move meant that you were the subject of gossip. And boy, were they good at getting it out of you.

“Trouble in paradise?” She sweetly hummed as she pushed my bed down the hall.

I wanted to tell her that there was trouble, and that it was through no fault of my own. If the other people in the hospital didn’t have the audacity to be sick at the same time that I needed a CT scan, then I wouldn’t have even still been here. I could have been back at home, where… well, I guess Spencer would have figured it out either way.

“Yeah, I guess.” I sadly admitted, playing with the string of my gown. “He’s just a worrywart.”

The woman had that glimmer in her eye, the kind that came from years of seeing the same stories over and over again. Although, I had a hard time believing she’d ever been in this exact scenario, I guess they were all kind of the same after a while, semantics aside.

“Well, that makes sense considering your current state.” It was more of a reprimand than anything else, and I audibly groaned to try and get her to stop there. She didn’t, though, having spent enough time with me to know I needed to hear it. “You were very lucky, you know. If things had been even just a little bit different…”

Couldn’t you say that about everything? If things had been even just a little bit different, I never would have met Spencer in the first place. We never would have fallen in love or fought or done any of it at all.

I didn’t like thinking about that. I didn’t like even considering a life without Spencer. No matter how much pain I’d been through, or what traumatic memories were dug up, they were worth it.

That’s what she wanted me to realize, and she had succeeded. Suddenly, as we turned into the room, I was overcome with guilt at the way I’d ended my conversation with him.

The nurse knew it, too, because as she transferred me onto the scanner, she smiled. “I’m just saying, sweetheart. If he woke up next to your hospital bed last time, I understand why he’d be scared.”

Chewing on my lips, I thought about the last time I was in a hospital. I thought about how Spencer had curled his giant lanky body onto the bed and barely slept for 2 weeks. I could see the way his eyes got more sunken by the day, but never stopped shining with relief. I could hear him chewing on ice because he didn’t want to leave to grab food until after I’d woken up, and the cold would distract him from just how hungry he was.

“He must love you an awful lot to be that worried.”

I hated when they did that; when they read my mind and said exactly what I was thinking.

“Yeah, I know.” I tried to smile. It was hard with the stabbing pain in my stomach and the aching in the entire left side of my face, but I managed. It was just one of those things where if I thought of Spencer, my body had to react. It was as natural as breathing.

Which, speaking of…

“Take a deep breath in.” The technician alerted me from the speaker.

The high pitched whines of the CT scanner weren’t as obnoxious as the MRI machine. I was silently grateful that they were still too scared to use the giant magnet. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be stuck in a confined space, listening to loud banging that sounded too much like gun shots for my comfort.

Even just the thought made me nauseous. I felt like a baby, to have such a strong reaction to something so stupid. I’d been in an MRI before. I was a in a hospital. Nothing bad was going to happen to me, and I knew that.

But even now, in a machine that made virtually no noise and barely covered half my body, I wasn’t able to hold in a breath. Each time I tried, it felt like I was choking on Spencer’s lap again. The stinging in my stomach felt so much stronger, even though I knew it was healed.

The world felt like it was closing in on me, and every second that passed felt like days. I couldn’t even trust myself to guess how long it took for them to get images that should have taken no longer than 5 minutes.

I felt like such a burden. Like I was in their way. Like I was doing it wrong. Like I was a little kid, thinking that she knew what she was doing and could do it on her own.

I wanted Spencer.

That was the only thing I could think, and although it should have been comforting, it just left me feeling empty. The thought of him wasn’t enough to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. The hands of the nurses trying to calm me down didn’t help, either. They felt wrong. They felt cold.

I just wanted Spencer. I wanted him to be there to hold my hand and distract me from my own thoughts. I wanted him to replace them with other things, like he'd promised me. I wanted to make new memories far away from here.

But I couldn’t. I was an idiot and I’d gotten myself back in the hospital, and he wasn’t here because I told him I didn’t want him to be. Why had I told him that? There was no reason that made any sense.

Once we finally did get out of the damn radiology department, I could still only barely function. The ride back to my room was much quieter, and the nurse didn’t meddle anymore. Gossip was only fun when it didn’t hurt like this.

Again, I couldn’t trust myself to guess how long I’d been in the CT scanner, but as we crossed back into my room, an overwhelming sensation of relief washed over me when I saw his satchel in the seat beside my bed. I hated the knowledge that I’d wasted 45 minutes of the technician’s time, but I was just so fucking happy that he had actually come.

Being alone in my room wasn’t a big deal anymore, because I knew it was only temporary. So as soon as I could, I sat up and waited patiently for my favorite mop of curly brown hair to peek around the corner.

He didn’t disappoint. He rarely did.

“Hey little girl.”

All the tension melted from my muscles, my head finally resting against the pillow with a dopey smile on my face. “Spencer.” I sighed, holding my hand out to him to usher him closer.

He gladly took the invitation, taking wide steps so he could be with me sooner.

“You shouldn’t be here.” I grumbled, flicking him on the arm while I locked our hands together. “But I’m glad you are.”

It was obvious from the way he let out a deep breath that he was also relieved to see that I wasn’t angry at him for coming. However, that’s also where his relief stopped. Because he’d seen me an hour prior and knew that I hadn't been crying then. But now, on top of the black eye, he saw the red rimming my sclera.

Taking my hand into both of his, he pressed a hard kiss against the back of it. Without looking up, he muttered into the skin a sad plea.

“Talk to me.”

“About what?” I asked, pulling back on my hand so he would stop with the shameless display of romance in such an awful place.

“Whatever’s going on.” He paused, but was clearly unhappy with the open ended question, and just as quickly specified, “What happened last night?

Unfortunately, I still wasn’t in the giving mood, even when it was information, and even if the person begging me for it was the boyfriend that I’d just cried for in the CT Scanner. If anything, that almost made it worse.

I hated feeling like this. Vulnerable.

“Nothing.”

Spencer was getting fed up, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself from fighting with him. I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell him that I needed him to take care of me and ask him to hold me while I cried on his shoulder about nothing at all, but I couldn’t. He would do it in a heartbeat, but I couldn’t ask him to. I couldn’t ask him for anything.

I couldn’t need anything without feeling too horribly guilty.

“Please don’t lie to me.” He was begging again, looking up at me with those impossibly warm amber eyes. He smiled when he saw the way my lips curled at the sight of him, unable to be angry for too long.

“Am I not allowed to have any stories for myself?” I joked, reaching forward to poke his face. Instead of moving away to avoid my hand, he leaned into the touch.

“You can. I just...”

“I know. You’re worried.” I responded with an exasperated sigh, rolling my head back. I could still feel him watching me, though, with a precarious smile, happy to see my spirits relatively high while also being deeply unhappy about the circumstances.

Wanting to see that full, confident smile again, I realized I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m sure that whatever he’d come up with in his head was much more sinister than what had actually happened.

“Fine. Stop looking at me like that.” I mumbled, gesturing to the childlike pout and laughing when he sucked his lips into his mouth in an attempt to follow my direction. I was glad he was still in a joking mood, because I had a feeling it would disappear as soon as I started talking.

I took a deep breath, looking up and away before I began my explanation of the stupidest night.

“I went out for drinks with my friends–”

“Drinks?!”

It hadn’t even been five seconds and he’d already cut me off. I couldn’t blame him, but it was so freaking annoying. This was exactly why I hadn't told him. Well, that and the fact he could get in serious trouble.

“I didn’t have any! Geez. Chill out.” I yelled back, chuckling a little bit at the conflicting looks of terror and relief. Because while he obviously believed that I didn’t drink any myself, it gave ugly context to the nightmarish guesses his mind had concocted.

“And everything was fine. We were on our way home. But then some asshole started messing with my friend. And she was way too drunk and started crying.” I was groaning internally the whole time, thinking about all the different ways this whole situation could have been avoided. Honestly, I don’t know why she had decided to try and square up with a cat caller when she knew damn well that she would start crying the second he raised his voice.

Which, of course, he had.

“So, I told the guy to fuck off. And he did not like it.”

There was a powerful rage boiling under the surface of Spencer’s skin, which was only betrayed by his clenched jaw and the sheets scrunched under his hand. “Did they arrest him?” He said, trying to calm the trembling in his voice. He wasn’t angry at me for being a victim, even if he was probably a little annoyed that I went out without telling him.

Not like he was even in the state, anyway.

“I didn’t press charges.”

He took a deep breath, clearly about to tell me that I was stupid for not holding him accountable. That I could’ve gotten hurt and he would’ve gotten away with it. That I could’ve died if he’d hurt me the wrong way.

I didn’t want to hear it.

“Stop. I didn’t want to go to court, and I’m fine. I didn’t even need invasive surgery again.”

Spencer was still angry but trying to settle himself down before he spoke. He could hardly even look at me, his hand leaving the bed to run through his hair and shake his keys in his pockets.

I wanted to tell him that the tension of silence was worse than if he’d just raised his voice at me, but I couldn’t even gather the energy to do that. My body and mind seemed resigned to their current state; they’d just given up.

“(Y/n)...” He started, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the use of my name. They didn’t retreat, especially not when he dragged a chair over to my bedside, sitting down and placing a gentle hand over mine again.

“Are you okay?”

It was so sincere. So pure, so unforgivably kind. My hand that had felt paralyzed seconds earlier twitched under his. “I just told you.” I shrugged, fighting the urge to pull my arm away again. I wanted him here. I wanted him to touch me.

So why did it hurt? Why did everything hurt?

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” His voice broke, and I saw the way he was holding back tears with his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. He was biting back so many things he didn’t want me to know.

But again, I was too tired to fight it. So instead, I said nothing.

“It doesn’t take a profiler to see you’re hurting.” He continued, urging me to give him anything to work with. “How can I make it better?”

He just wanted to help. Why couldn’t I let him help?

“I’m fine. Nothing even happened to me.” My throat tried to reject the words, my brain screaming at me that they were fundamentally untrue. But my heart hurt, pounding louder in my chest to tell me that the logic was wrong. Because I was a big girl, and I shouldn’t be scared by things that already happened.

I’m safe, right? I don’t need to be scared, right?

Spencer could see the panic on my face because I couldn’t even have hid it if I'd wanted to. And my brain was telling me to not to. It told me that I needed to talk to him, to let him listen.

“That’s not true. You’ve been through a lot.” He bargained, trying to locate that little voice in my head with his offerings. He wanted to pull that small part of me out and force it to talk so that we might finally be able to start to move on.

“You go through worse every day.”

‘It’s common for patients suffering from PTSD to minimize their suffering or compare it to others. It’s a completely normal response, but I want you to try to resist belittling your own feelings. They’re yours, and no one else’s. Okay, sweetheart?’

The voice was so clear in my head, my body jerked in response. I looked around the room, looking for any sign of the man who’d told me them first. But he wasn’t here; he hadn’t been here for some time.

“Do you know how many profilers I’ve seen leave in my time at the bureau?” Spencer distracted me from the thought. He probably figured my flashbacks were more sinister than what they actually were. As upsetting as they had once been, hearing my dad’s voice in my head was usually oddly soothing.

“No.” I answered blankly, trying to pay all attention to the man who was still here.

“Four. And I’ve considered it myself.” There was a soft chuckle to hide the guilt in the admission.

I didn’t know why he felt bad for it; his job was so ridiculously difficult. On top of constantly having to rearrange his life on account of the various inextinguishable evils in the world, he had to face those evils every day and try to figure out their inner workings in order to thwart them. The only time I'd ever done that, I'd killed all three of them. Not the best track record.

“The first one, she... she reminds me a lot of you.” The soft twinkling in his eyes, much like emotional music in the movies, alerted me that a backstory was coming. Based on the extent of just how nostalgic he was coming, I guessed that whatever he was about to say was deeply important to him.

However, I was fragile enough as it was, and I didn’t need to add jealousy to my current emotional repertoire. “Is this another JJ origin story? Cause I don’t think I can handle it.”

He laughed, shaking his head at the frustrated pout that formed on my face. “No,” He said quietly, taking a pregnant pause to formulate the story. “Her name was Elle.”

The story he told was woven well, although I expected no less. He told it passionately and with absolute sincerity. He told me about the woman who was one of the first people he'd bonded with on the team. The playful relationship he described was painted so vividly in my imagination.

I wanted to meet her. But by the end of the story, it was obvious that it wasn’t an option. He didn’t say anything about it, but from the far off look I could guess that he hadn’t seen her since that last day.

“She was like a sister to me, and to see her fall apart and not be able to do anything to help her... it was one of the worst feelings in the world.”

And I understood then, why he was worried about me the way he was. He was projecting his previous experience on me, but things were different with me. At least, that’s what I told myself. Realistically I should have been reminding myself that she'd had the training and resources to overcome her obstacles, whereas I was basically still a stupid kid. The prospect of facing the reality was too difficult though; I just shrugged it off.

“Well, I already killed the people who did this to me.” I chuckled.

Spencer did not appreciate my humor. There was an even stronger concern that flashed over his features, worried by my flippancy over the death of three human beings.

Fuck, I should feel worse about it than I do, shouldn’t I? But if I thought about it, then it hurt so badly. If I had to pick one, I would pick apathy every time. I would choose the emptiness before the ocean of remorse.

“I’m not worried about them.”

I had drifted away from him again, and the sentence forced me to look at him.

‘I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you.’

I’d said that before. Those were my words.

I pulled my hand back from Spencer, rubbing my forehead with both hands before wincing at the sharp pain around my eye socket. It took me a minute to focus on the sentence and dive deeper into its implications. But once I remembered why it instilled such a visceral reaction, I nearly gagged on the words.

“Wait, you think I’m going to kill myself?”

“I didn’t say that.” He quickly responded in the most defensive manner possible. If that was his attempt to calm me down, it did not work. It only pissed me off even more.

Because there was only one reason why he would think I was going to kill myself. I hadn’t given him any reason to believe that was a risk. Yeah, sure, I was being reckless and impulsive, but I was a teenager!

“Why would you think that?” I demanded an answer, and he was immediately hesitant to provide one. It was all the evidence I needed to reach my conclusion. “Don’t lie to me, Spencer Reid. You asked Hotch, didn’t you?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair now that it was obvious, I wasn’t going to want him to touch me. “Yeah, I did.”

“You told me you wouldn’t, Spencer! You promised!” I ground the words out between my teeth, hoping he understood just how much I was holding back my volume.

He looked over at the screen monitoring my heart, noting the way the spikes appeared at an exponentially faster rate. “I know.” He whispered with an evident guilt.

“What did he tell you?” I hated the way my voice shrank with my shoulders, my body insisting that I assume to the smallest position I could. Because as much as I hated that Spencer had asked when he told me he wouldn’t, I was desperate for the information.

I’d always wanted to see the files, to hear the story as they knew it. I wanted to know what happened, and this was probably the closest I’d ever come to that, unless that whole Ouija board thing is real.

“Probably the same stuff that you already know.” He knew he was disappointing me. He shouldn’t have felt as bad about that as he did, but I’d take the implicit apology for what it was.

“Tell me anyway.”

Spencer should have been delighted to have the opportunity to talk at me for such a long time, but I also understood why he wasn’t. They weren’t the best topics of conversation, your ex-best friend and your girlfriend’s dead father. But he was a trooper and a skilled conversationalist, despite people not being able to understand that.

“He told me that there were several missions your father was a part of that ended controversially. That… he reported several violations that were never followed through on.”

The words so easily unlocked memories I had tightly and resolutely locked away, it was unsettling. I could hear my parents arguing about the philosophy of blame and responsibility. My dad always arguing that he couldn’t stand aside and let innocent people get hurt. My mom reminding him that he couldn’t save everyone.

‘We also get to see a lot of good.’ Spencer had said on our first not-a-date.

‘Yeah, but which do you see more of?’ I’d asked, and he’d avoided the question. I remembered seeing the question dance across his vision before he shut it out. He'd wondered why I was so confident in my conclusions.

“And the last mission…”

He didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“I saw the report.”

My breath was knocked from my lungs by an invisible fist to my damaged gut. I swallowed, trying to regulate my heart that was at risk of setting off the damn machine next to me. “What did it say?” I whispered, clutching onto the sheets and my gown, hoping it would be enough to keep me grounded.

“Killed in action.”

“That’s fucking bullshit.” I barked, my brows furrowing regardless of just how badly it hurt to contort my face so badly. “He didn’t– H-He wasn’t–“

“I know.” Spencer responded, a note of pity in his voice that made my face twitch in annoyance.

I turned to him with the same snarl, years of repressed anger resurfacing and wreaking even more havoc on my already destroyed life. “Do you? Do you know?”

“I mean, I can’t ever know for sure but… You weren’t the only one who felt that he...” He couldn’t say the word suicide, and for once, I was grateful. “It seems like all of his team had the same concerns.”

He was trying so hard to calm me down, to placate my fears and rage. He was sympathizing the best he could, but the truth was he would never be able to understand just how fucked up it was. He hadn't been there when it was happening, so the only thing he could do was try to slap a band-aid on a well-settled scar and hope that my not being able to see it made it hurt less.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered the two words cautiously, his heartbreak clear in his eyes. He had nothing to apologize for, but there he was, doing it anyway.

“For what?”

“That you’ll never have your answer.”

I don’t know what I expected him to say, but his answer took me by surprise. Of all the explanations I’d heard after an unnecessary platitudinous apology, I’d never heard that. And even worse, I’d never heard it in such a broken way, sounding for all the world like he believed he'd failed tremendously.

“I’m sorry that... that I couldn’t find it for you.”

I couldn’t stand the sight, and my hand found his cheek like it did so often, returning home to find that it was just a bit more stubbly than I remembered it. “It’s not your job, Spencer. We’re not one of your cases.” I assured him, running my thumb over the rough skin and remembering that he’d only just gotten home from exactly that: a case.

He did so much for me every day, but in the past few months he’d had to do so much more. And as much as I tried not to, I took him for granted so often. It was never as obvious to me as it was in that moment, when a tear slid down his cheek at the tenderness of my touch. He always expected anger and pain. I didn’t want him to feel that way with me.

“But thank you for trying. I appreciate you.” I tried to throw my soul into the words as they formed on my tongue, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. “I love you very much.”

“I love you, too.” He sighed into the small embrace, leaning his weight more heavily into my hand. Still holding back, he grimaced at the words he shared. “If I’m going to be honest, I looked something else up myself. Not on any FBI database just... old school research”

I wanted to act surprised, but it was the least shocking thing I’d heard in a while. So instead I just stared at him, with the closest I could come to boredom while still being interested in what he had to say.

“Yeah? What’d you find?” Finally settling into the inevitable resignation, I moved my hand up the side of his face to tangle in his hair. It was so soft despite not having been washed for a few days. I could tell he hadn’t slept much. I wondered why he'd bothered digging into my past in the precious little free time he had.

But then he said it, reminding me of the pain of the cemetery and the events that both preceded and followed it.

“Trent Loughton.”

My fingers stopped in their exploration of his curls for a second, but eventually continued. “I see.” I hummed, trying not to push the conversation any further than he wanted to take it. As emotional as the topic was for me, it must have been harder for him. After all, he was the one who shared the nasty habit with Trent.

“I-I saw how he died... and I think I can fill in the rest myself.”

“Mrs. Loughton did give a lot of clues.” I laughed, mostly to stop myself from crying. That woman didn’t deserve any more of my tears. It was because of her that I’d spent years trying to convince myself that Trent’s death wasn’t my fault. Deep down, a part of me still believed her.

But honestly, it wasn’t my opinion that really mattered to me. It was Spencer’s. If he thought I was a failure, or that it was my fault for what happened, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to move past it. I wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to move past it.

“The drugs he overdosed on... they weren’t yours.”

Relief washed over me, but my mind told me not to get too comfortable, yet. “No, they weren’t.” My body had such a strange reaction to the words being said without an argument. I didn’t need to convince Spencer; he already knew. He not only believed me – he had come to the conclusion himself.

“So why did you say they were?”

It was such an easy answer, I knew he had to know it already. His hesitance to come to conclusions on my behalf, while appreciated, wasn’t necessary in this situation. “Pretty little girl with no record and a batshit war hero dad stood a better chance in the criminal justice system. I didn’t ask my dad to protect me, but he did.”

Spencer clearly sympathized with my father more so than me in that moment, which made my heart flutter in a remarkably inappropriate manner. I just couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that those damn psychologists were right – We really do sometimes pick men that remind us of our fathers.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Spencer said under his breath, and I wondered which one he was even talking about. It honestly could have applied to my whole life. He would have meant it each time, too. Because to him I couldn’t do anything wrong. I tried to take solace in that, but it honestly caused another voice to creep into the back of my mind.

I’d never be as good as he saw me. I’d never be worthy of his love.

Shoving those anxieties away again, I nodded in solemn recognition of the years I spent working to come to that same conclusion. “I know. It just took me a while to figure it out.”

My hand finally fell away from his face, although he grabbed my wrist to stop it from going too far. There was another hesitancy in his body language. His face turned down and his leg bouncing so gently I almost missed it.

“Is he the one you were talking about? The one you loved?”

Ah, nothing like a subtle hint of jealousy to boost a girl’s ego. I chuckled at the sound, swaying a bit in place to let him suffer a millisecond longer. “No. Not exactly.”

But then I genuinely couldn’t figure out how to say it. How could I describe what we had shared, when I'd spent so long trying to forget it? Had I loved him? Probably. No, I'd definitely loved him, just not in the way Spencer was thinking. Not like I loved Spencer.

“It was like, he always liked me, and I always thought we’d end up together because that’s how it happens in the movies, right? I was supposed to fall in love with him.” I ranted, trying to move my hands that were currently wrapped up in Spencer’s. “But I didn’t, and then he was gone and...”

We both stopped, his eyes trailing after me with questions he didn’t voice yet. He wanted me to finish before he decided whether or not they were worth it. I wanted to explain to him that they weren’t. As important as Trent was to me, he was gone.

“It’s fine. I’m sure he would be glad I found someone who makes me happy.” I was confident in that, at least. Because as I stared into those big hazel eyes, forcing themselves to stay open just to listen to me talk about my life, I was glad, too. “Even if that someone snoops too much for his own good.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

There were many reasons, most of which I didn’t want to go into. But the way he was looking at me shattered my heart into a million pieces, and I knew that if I lied to him now, it would only make it harder to put those parts back together.

He just wanted to help. I knew I should let him help.

“I didn’t want to think about it.” I admitted for the first time out loud. “I didn’t want to consider all the similarities. I didn’t want you to think I was just looking for a man to replace the ones I’ve lost.”

I couldn’t tell when I started to cry, but it was even more exhausting and painful than normal. Which is why I didn’t hesitate to accept Spencer’s offer when he stood up, wrapping his arms around me just tightly enough that it wouldn’t hurt.

“I didn’t want to lose you, too.” I whined, the comforting scent of his cologne filling my lungs and reminding me of all the beautiful moments we’d shared so far. We had so many more to go.

“You won’t lose me. I’m here to stay.” He said, reading my mind like he always did.

“I know.” I started to laugh, but this time it wasn’t held back by secrets. “You’d think a girl could lose you by getting in a bar fight an hour away and going to an unnamed hospital but nooo...”

He laughed too, although his was much more reserved. Spoilsport.

Spencer’s arms tightened around me briefly, holding me closer to him before he backed away, his hands finding home on my cheeks. I anticipated a kiss, which was usually what happened when he held me like that. But he didn’t kiss me, instead giving me a gentle instruction.

“(Y/n), look at me.”

My eyes, bruised and dry, still opened at his command.

“No jokes. No lies.” He asked, clearly enunciating each word. “Should I be worried about you?”

All I could hear was the sound of my heart and the humming of the machines. I was brought back to the CT scanner, the way it felt to be choking on air. Flashes of other men I loved were racing through my mind. I couldn’t save them, I remembered, before my eyes landed back on Spencer.

My stomach twisted at the memory of a wooden box, a check, and suddenly all I smelled was the pine of the forest.

“(Y/n)?” He asked again, although I saw he’d already received half of the answer.

“No. I’m fine.”

The most terrifying part about it was that I believed what I said, but the look on Spencer’s face told me that I was lying. And I believed that, too.

—————————————————

The thing about coming back from a gunshot wound to the stomach is that it takes a ridiculously annoying amount of time. Like, yeah, the pain is something awful, but the wait for things to return to normal was even worse.

I didn’t even know how long it’d been, my brain blocking out anything that reminded me of that day. If I ever really needed to know, Spencer could tell me. I was basically only keeping track of the days by deadlines for school and the dwindling prescriptions I had left.

My follow-up appointment was next week, and it couldn’t come soon enough. Spencer told me he would come with me, but I hadn’t really heard from him in a couple of days. He didn’t even have time to tell me about the case, although I could tell it was one of the “bad” ones – not that there were really any “good” ones.

But still, it was almost 11pm and I was about to go to sleep, but I wanted to wait a little bit longer before I called it a night. I was just hoping that I’d be able to talk to him, even if it was just to say goodnight. I missed his voice like crazy.

So when my phone lit up, I didn’t even look at the caller ID. There weren’t many people who would call me this late on a Friday – my friends were all already out for the night.

“Hello?” I sang into the receiver, already excitedly spinning around in my chair.

But the voice that responded was decidedly not Spencer.

“Hey, (y/n), right? It’s JJ.”

Her voice rang like a record scratch through my head, and I halted in my chair. “Oh, hey JJ... Why are you calling me?” Suddenly, my enthusiasm morphed into an overwhelming anxiety and darkness that threatened to crush everything in its path. “I-Is everything alright?”

But then I heard it. The sound of terrible music, loud laughter, and the general bustle of a restaurant. It was followed by an even more nervous JJ, “Uhh, yeah. Everything is fine. I was calling because Spencer might have had a few too many drinks and—“

Above the chaotic noise that I just described, I heard Spencer Reid loud and clear. Well, maybe not the clear part. His inaudible slurring sounded vaguely like a rant I’d heard before. Then again, hadn't I heard them all at this point? ?

I hadn’t put it together yet, though, and once I did, I couldn’t help but laugh. “My boyfriend is drunk? Cute.”

I was already standing, gathering my things and tossing my jacket on to head out when I asked, “Do you want me to come get him?”

“Please.” I’d never heard a more relieved woman in my life. The very thought of him driving his best friends insane with his drunken lessons was enough to combat my exhaustion. The poor thing was probably humiliating himself one sip at a time.

But for every chuckle, I was really just hiding a deeper concern. Spencer wasn’t supposed to be drinking. Spencer wasn’t allowed to drink, and he knew that. Out of the two of us, he was the one who put himself at risk more often, and I had a goddamn bullet wound.

“Sure thing. Just send me the address.”

It dawned on me somewhere along the 20 minute drive that Spencer had not only finished his case, but also come home and gone out for a drink with his team. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but the fact that he hadn’t told me about any of it...?

I tried not to think about it, knowing that talking to him about it tonight would be a waste of time, anyway. From the way he'd sounded over the phone, he wouldn’t be in any state to talk about the deep nuances of addiction and our relationship.

So I pushed it away, trying to enjoy the fact that I’d be able to see him again. Now that we’d cleared the air about my past, things felt strangely calm. I told myself it wasn’t just the eye of the storm because I wasn't sure I could handle much more excitement lately.

Showing up at one of the bars I used to frequent didn’t do much to convince me otherwise, either. The stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol hit me like a freight train as soon as I stepped out of my car. How did I do this every other night before?

As I approached the door, I didn’t even recognize the bouncer’s figure in the shade of the dim porch light. I recognized his voice, though, that’s for sure.

“Hey Jailbait, haven’t seen you around.”

Shit. Slower now, I hesitantly approached him with the most innocent and well-meaning look I could muster, knowing full well that another part of my life was going to be exposed tonight. At least this time, Spencer was the story and not the listener.

“Hey Tom...” I nervously laughed, drawing out the words while I came to a stop.

“Heard some pretty crazy shit went down to keep you off the scene. Must be bad if it keeps you away from me.”

It was weird to think that they talked about me. But I guess it was to be expected; we were all friends before Spencer Reid. And when someone in those friend groups goes missing suddenly, there’s usually reason to be worried. But in my situation, the worry wasn’t really necessary (aside from the whole being shot thing, I guess).

“Crazy is a good word for it.”

He leaned forward, beckoning for me to move in even closer with a wave of his hand. I complied, although I was a little confused as to why we were being so secretive.

“Hey, sorry, but... I can’t let you in tonight. You know I normally would, but the place is swarming with feds tonight.”

Then I remembered that I actually had to explain the reason for my absence, rather than just think about it in the abstract. “Oh no, I know.” I peered around him, trying to spot the man past the door. It wasn’t hard, considering how goddamn tall he was.

I pointed to him, causing Tom to turn with an amused grin before I explained, “I’m here for the drunk noodle man.”

The look on his face – hilarious, and a little insulting.

“What? Jailbait’s picking up a fed? Damn girl what’ve you been into?” He laughed, barely able to control himself. He laughed so hard, in fact, I’m surprised there weren’t tears in his eyes.

“Stop that.” I whined, but he didn’t listen.

“Does he know who he’s dating?”

The question hurt more than he could have anticipated. I didn’t want to confront those messy feelings, so I bundled them all into an annoyed exclamation. “Yes, he knows!” I huffed, crossing my arms and turning away from him as I stepped towards the door. “So can I go get him?”

He composed himself rather quickly after that, shaking his head and unhooking the rope that blocked off the door. “Please do. If I have to hear one more fact about Ancient Rome, I might quit.”

With the last obstacle gone, I happily skipped through the door, the excitement returning in a bubbling wave through my chest. “Thanks, Tom!” I chirped, barely giving him a glance as I raced through the door.

The only person more surprised to see me than Tom was Spencer. Although, to his credit, I did practically launch myself at his side. We both nearly toppled to the ground thanks to our lack of coordination, but we were luckily stopped by the bar he was leaning against.

“Boo!” I shouted in his ear, hearing a small, surprised gasp from my boyfriend.

“(Y/n)?” He turned towards me now, stars quickly forming in his eyes as a big, goofy smile spread across his face. It took him a minute, but eventually he recognized me in the dim light.

“Hey old man.”

Hugging me back just a little too tightly, he began to gush, “Oh my gosh. What are you doing here?” Of course, before I could answer, he came to several other conclusions. “Wait! This is a bar. You can’t be here! You aren’t twenty one!”

He thought he was whispering, but he definitely, definitely was not.

“I’m here to pick you up, not party.” I actually whispered back, turning to see JJ practically hiding at the table. I’m guessing he hasn't wanted her to call me, although I was pretty sure he wouldn’t care at this point. He seemed pretty happy I was there.

“You can’t pick me up. You’re hurt.”

I didn’t even know where to start with that, so I just chuckled. “Smart as a whip, Dr. Reid.”

I ran my hands over his shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkled dress shirt he'd either had no time to iron, or had worn to bed the night before. I didn’t like either of those options. Spencer must have noticed me analyzing the fact, because his hand came up to stop me.

Trying to quickly change the subject, I blurted out over the terrible music, “Even when I’m hurt, I can probably still pick you up. You probably weigh the same as me.”

He scoffed, looking down at his lanky body compared to mine before shaking his head. “That’s hurtful, (y/n).” He attempted a puppy dog face, which only made laughter burst from my pursed lips.

Grabbing hold of his wrists and pulling him away from the bar, I turned and waved to the few team members I could spot among the crowd before returning to my drunken idiot of a boyfriend. “Come on, love. It’s time to take you home with me.”

When the cool autumn air hit him, I felt the goosebumps ripple over his arm. He leaned a bit closer, resting too much of his body weight on me for my comfort, but I wasn’t going to tell him to stop.

“How did you find me?” He mumbled, trying to touch me more than he currently was. Pushing him away from me was supposed to serve as a gentle reminder that we were in public, but he didn’t seem to care about that at all.

“JJ called me.”

“They all like you a lot. So do I.” His fast responses were a little less impressive considering how spontaneous they seemed, but I let it slide. As long as he was saying nice things, it was fine by me.

Guiding him as gently as possible, which is to say not gently at all considering he was essentially a human giraffe, I sighed. “I’m glad to hear it, Spencer. Maybe I can actually hang out with them one of these days.”

The guilt appeared before I could stop it, but it was the least of my worries at the moment. More concerning would be getting him into his house and in bed without either of us doing something stupid. After all, he was usually the one who stopped me from being stupid. And so far tonight, he’d already done something pretty damn stupid.

As I pulled the driver side door closed, a silence filled the car. Spencer was stuck between staring at me with a lovesick smile and looking away, probably because of his pink cheeks making him look a perfect combination of embarrassed and plastered.

“So what had you drinking, Spencer?”

“A case.” He shot back with that voice he usually reserved for the bedroom. It was the voice that told me not to press, to take his answer and let it die.

Unfortunately, I couldn't really do that this time, concerning this particular topic. . “Good thing or bad thing drinking?” I asked quietly.

I think he wanted to snap at me, to tell me that it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t. The way my hands and words trembled told him that I was just as scared as he was that the answer might be the wrong one.

“I don’t know,” was what he said, instead.

“Okay.” I accepted that answer, understanding that it meant we could talk about it later, when his blood went back to normal and his mind was where it should be. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

And there we were, me sitting and staring at the indicators on the car as the engine turned, and him staring at me in the little light provided. After staring back at him for a moment, I had to ask the glaringly obvious question.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

That’s when Spencer Reid let out an honest to god giggle, his hands reaching out to massage my face that no longer showed any signs of the black eye I'd received a few weeks prior. “You’re sooo pretty.” He drawled, slumping over in his seat so he could rest his face against my shoulder.

I couldn’t help but laugh back, petting his hair for a second before returning my attention to the wheel. “Oooh, I like this.” I whispered, letting my heart skip a few beats as he nuzzled into the warmth that only I could provide him.

“I love you.” He mumbled against my shirt, letting out a deep breath before apparently trying to fill his lungs with the smell of my laundry detergent.

The sensation of his breath hot against my neck caused a familiar desire to stir in me, just barely beaten out by the even more powerful adoration I had for the puppy-like man who was already practically asleep on my shoulder.

“I love you, too, darling.”

He didn’t hear me, his soft breath indicating that he would be out for the drive. Taking my time to avoid the roads with potholes and curves, I managed to keep Spencer on me the whole way back to his apartment. Once we were there, though, I didn’t have any option but to wake him up. Unlike him, I definitely could not carry him out of the car.

It took him a surprisingly long period of time to realize that we were not, in fact, at my place. As soon as he did notice, he rubbed his eyes like it would transform the door in front of him. “Why didn’t you take me home?”

“This is your apartment, babe.” I explained, digging through his pockets to find his keys. He jumped at the contact before letting out a sound that was way too close to a moan for him to be making in the hallway.

“Yeah that’s not home.” He answered, swallowing down other noises that threatened to erupt by the time I withdrew my hand. “But home is–“ He hiccuped, patting his finger on my nose as he tried to stabilize his feet. “Home is where you are.”

“Mmm, so smooth.” I hummed, unlocking the door and shoving his drunk ass into the apartment before he could do something else that made me question whether I should just turn around and go home.

But he just looked so proud of himself, spinning around on his feet and crashing into the table beside the door. “Thank you!” He chirped, reaching forward to grab my hand and pull me closer.

When our bodies pressed together, the first thing I noticed was the fact he was clearly much more excited to be home with me than he was letting on. The thin fabric of his slacks left little to the imagination, and when my hand slid over the tent in his pants, there was nothing left to wonder.

“I brought you here... because I didn’t want to have to be quiet.” I purred, palming his erection over his clothes.

Through his broken moans, he still managed to ask the silliest question: “Why are you going to be loud?”

He was so fucking cute; so remarkably innocent in his drunken stupor, it was hard to remember that he was the same man that once finger fucked me on the metro.

“Why do you think?” I asked just as sweetly, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

Spencer still just stared, mesmerized by the way the buttons slipped from the fabric between my fingers. Once they were all open, I ran my hands over his chest before wrapping my arms around his neck.

He was the one to close the gap, coming down to deliver a feverish kiss against my lips. He tasted like honey and whiskey, and I wanted nothing more than to drown in him. His hands were on my lower back, sneaking under my shirt and spreading goosebumps all over my skin.

I moaned into his mouth with the utmost desperation, murmuring words against his lips. “Take me to bed, Spencer,” I begged.

The words awoke something in him, and suddenly, his hands were off of me and raised in the air.

“Wait— I can’t.” He concluded, drawing in heavy breaths.

“Why not?”

I wasn’t sure which part of this situation did him in, although I had my suspicions. As much as I wanted him, I would suppress those urges if he was really, truly uncomfortable. I almost felt bad for a second, but then he spoke again.

“I have a girlfriend.”

With a few slow blinks, I tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to return a serious answer. Deciding that was impossible, I deadpan replied, “I am your girlfriend, you absolute idiot.”

I took his stunned silence to be permission enough to start leading him into his room. He honestly looked like I’d just told him all the answers to the universe, and he trailed after me like my hand was a leash. Still, once I sat on the bed and pulled his body against mine, he paused again.

“My girlfriend can’t— she’s hurt. She can’t have sex with me.”

I got the impression he was trying to reason with himself more so than with me, which explained the third person. But it was deeply unsettling, because I really needed to know he was here in this moment with me.

“Stop saying 'she'. It’s me, babe.” I gently reminded, and I watched it dawn on him again, his eyes lighting up in the darkness. Sliding my hand up his arm, I pulled him forward to hopefully convince him to climb into the bed with me. “And we don’t have to have sex.”

Funny enough, Spencer was the one who had enough sense to strip off most of his clothes before he stumbled onto the mattress after me. His lack of coordination was even worse with the alcohol, and it reminded me of the virginal teenager I’m certain he once was.

It was strange to consider, that if we’d met each other under different circumstances, at a different time, our roles might have been somewhat reversed. To picture him as an innocent little thing was... kind of exciting.

But he was anything but innocent now, his face hanging over mine while he helped me disrobe, trying to focus his analytical abilities on me in his haze. Finding no pain or hesitancy, he crashed his lips over mine with an energy I hadn’t seen in some time.

And it was so invigorating, to feel his skin against mine without him having to constantly worry about whether or not he was hurting me. It’d been far too long since we shared a bed together like this, and now that it was happening, I could hardly breathe.

“God, I love her.” He whispered against my skin, before quickly correcting himself, “I love you.”

I laughed, the kind that sputters from your lips when you try to hold it back. Pushing the hair from his face, I ran my fingers over his scalp. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk, I’m stupid.” He replied with a cheeky smirk, diving back down to kiss me again. I wasn’t going to argue with the brilliant Spencer Reid, even if the point he was making was that he was, in fact, stupid.

Maybe it was stupid, the two of us tangling up in his sheets despite the fact that I hadn’t been cleared for it yet by my doctor. I knew that it was coming soon – probably at my appointment in a couple weeks, actually – so why wait? I knew that Spencer would never hurt me. Even now, his hands were gentle in their insistence, raking over my hip and stopping just short of the place where I really wanted him.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groaned, his hips rocking forward and pressing his erection against my leg.

“Touch me.” I ordered, louder and more forcefully than I intended. I was expecting an argument, but I didn’t get one. In fact, Spencer’s finger had already breached my folds before I even finished talking. Unwilling to let him be the only one to enjoy himself, I reached down to grab his cock.

“Shit.” He hissed, biting down on his lip while he rutted against my hand. “I just want to hold you down and fuck you until you cry.” The restraint was obvious in the fingers slowly sinking into me, his jaw clenched and his eyes barely able to stay open. “But I can’t.”

Through my heavy breaths, I panted out another request. “Tell me more about it.”

He immediately realized why I’d asked, and his fingers began to pump in and out of me faster and with more force, his lips trailing kisses over to my ear. While I tried to keep up the pace of my strokes, it became more complicated when his breath fanned over my ear.

“It’s been so long since I bent you over and had my way with you like I did that morning over your kitchen counter...” He moaned, and I could almost feel the sensations as he remembered them. Although his fingers would never be the same, just having him inside me in any capacity felt like pure bliss.

But he wasn’t done, continuing to speak his thoughts into my ear. “I just want to—fuck, I want to fill you up.” I went to respond, but I choked on a sob, instead. The lewd sounds between us only aided his descriptions.

“God, I love the way you feel. You’re always so wet for me.” He whispered, beginning to make small thrusts with his hips. The movement essentially allowed him to use my hand to stroke himself, and he let out another unsteady moan at the contact. “Think about what it feels like, little girl.”

“I-I am.” I could barely make the words come out; my body too sensitive to his touch after being starved of it for so long. And Spencer was ready to take full advantage of that.

“I still have so much planned for you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that little stunt you pulled when you got all riled up.” He growled, using his free hand to grab a fistful of my hair. He yanked my head further to the side, laying sloppy kisses along my jaw. “I told you I’d give you triple the marks you left on me, and I can’t wait to cover you with me.”

“Fuck. Please, Spencer.” I hoarsely begged, my hand on his shoulder tightening so that my nails dug into his skin. If his grip on my hair wasn’t so tight, I would have thrown my head back. Instead, I just squirmed underneath him, crying out, “I’m so close, Spencer, please!”

He did not disappoint, his fingers curling inside of me with each thrust, and by some grace of God, he was able to coordinate his thumb over my clit. As if that wasn’t enough, he pulled back to look me in the eyes.

“I want to feel you come on my fingers.” It was more of a demand than a desire, as evidenced by the way his hand tugged on my hair. “Come on, little girl. Make daddy proud.”

Just like that, my body responded to his call, my muscles trembling from the tension as my orgasm hit me like a fucking freight train. It was such an overwhelming experience, to remember exactly how Spencer was capable of making me feel.

And he knew it, too. “Oh, good girl,” he cooed, continuing his kisses against my neck and murmuring the words as they came to him. “That’s my pretty little slut.”

After taking my time coming back to earth, I struggled from the overstimulation still burning between my legs. Spencer hadn’t stopped his fingers, which were diligently stroking inside of me while he continued to buck his hips against my hand.

“I want you to finish inside me.” I slurred in my delirium, withdrawing my hand from his dick while he whimpered.

“I-I can’t. I can’t fuck you.” He was asserting a necessary and understandable hard limit, and it was clear I wouldn’t be able to convince him to fuck me that night.

But that wasn’t the plan, anyway.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I said between gasps, struggling against his fingers still inside me. “Come up here.” I whined, rubbing my hands on his shoulders while simultaneously trying to sit myself up.

The movement and the words made him withdraw completely. “(Y/n)...” He warned, running a hand through his hair while he sat up on his knees. “I could hurt you.”

“That’s always been a risk with us, Spencer.” My retort was both quick and persuasive, judging by the way he almost moved, but stopped himself yet again.

“Please. Please, do it. I want you to do it so fucking bad.” There was an obvious and deep desperation. I was literally begging him, to the point that I swore I almost cried. It felt stupid, but I needed him like I’d never needed anything in my life before. He’d spent months taking care of me, and I couldn’t do anything in return.

I just wanted to make him feel good, to give him something like we used to share.

Of course, I think those thoughts were also visible on my face, and they were obviously worrying him. With tender touches, Spencer’s fingers lightly trailed over the side of my face. The brief flashes of clarity alerted him of my struggle, and he let out a shaky breath at the war inside his own mind.

“I want to feel you inside me, and this is the only way.” I concluded, trying to lead him to the simplest conclusion. It was the safest, easiest way to solve both of our current problems. And although I could see how hard the decision was for him, my pleading eventually bested him.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, leaning forward to grab the headboard, staring down at me as I shimmied further up the wood.

“Fuck!” He repeated, rolling his head back with a light groan when both of my hands reached forward to grab his hips. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”

A giggle bubbled through my throat, and my body actually bounced in excitement as he slowly positioned himself in front of me. I wasn’t even sure which I was more excited for, my own orgasm or getting to finally give him one again.

As soon as my mouth closed around the head of his dick, I got my answer. Spencer’s moan filled the room, his hands holding so firmly on the headboard that the entire bed creaked. Although I figured he’d been taking care of himself in my absence, it appeared that wasn’t entirely the case. He seemed just as starved as I was.

“Holy shit.” He groaned, dropping a hand to the top of my head. I had to remind myself that he was drunk, which explained why he seemed so much more responsive than normal, with whimpers and pants flowing steadily through his mouth. He only got louder as he began to slowly push himself further into my mouth, stopping every few inches to retreat before pressing further.

“God, I need to do this more often. No back talk, no whining.” He said in a low tone under his breath, beginning to settle on a steady rhythm.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t think of anything except how fucking good it felt to be useful again, to feel him struggling to hold himself back as he started to more aggressively fuck my mouth. My eyes could barely stay open, but I needed them to. I needed to see him in the dim light of the streetlights that peered through the window.

He looked so beautiful, so perfect, and so mine. Feeling him slide back and forth against my tongue revived memories from long before and reignited my longstanding desire to do anything to please him. In all his caretaking, I was worried he might have forgotten how to control me.

But he hadn't. Thank god, he hadn’t.

“Come on, little girl. Earn your fill.” He whispered, burying himself in my throat and holding me against the headboard. I only lightly choked on the intrusion before my body complied, swallowing him further until my lips were pressed against the base of him.

Suddenly, Spencer withdrew, beginning a brutal, dizzying pace. Now, my eyes couldn’t stay open, rolling to the back of my head as I used my hands to steady myself against his thighs. The sobs trying to escape felt more like moans, and they shoved Spencer over the edge he’d been riding in his caution.

“That’s it. Take it.” He barked the instruction, looking down at me and smiling, “Don’t you dare spill any of it, do you hear me?”

My answer was stifled against him, just the way he wanted it to be. And with a few more rough thrusts, Spencer buried himself as deep as possible. I swore my heart synchronized with the pulsing against my tongue as his seed spilled down my throat.

I hollowed my cheeks, trying to drain every last drop from him as he finished. It had its desired effect, and Spencer grabbed my hair and forced himself deeper one more time with a growl. “Good girl.”

Once he had enough, he pulled out of me with a satisfied grunt, waiting just a second before clumsily falling onto the bed beside me. I laughed as he hit the pillows, obviously too tired to even reposition himself in the disastrous sheets.

“Thank you, daddy.” I spoke in the silence, gingerly cleaning the spit that had dripped down my chin.

“Fuck.” The curse was muffled in the pillow, but I understood it well enough. He seemed more concerned when I started to sink down into the sheets again, reaching a tentative hand out to him.

Finally rolling over, he grabbed my arm and guided me closer. “Come here.” He said with the tenderness I’d grown used to over the past few months. He turned towards me, apparently not ready for me to sleep on my side just yet.

He brushed my hair from my face, lifting the sheets to look at the now mostly healed wound. I hated it when he looked at it. It just reminded me that I’d never be the same girl he first met. Every time he saw it, he would remember that day. I didn’t want to think about it.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

But even with the insecurity and anger in my gut, I wasn’t lying when I answered. “No, I’m fine.” My heart was so full, my body relaxing for the first time in so long. I was just so unbelievably happy to be together again. Even if it wasn’t like last time, it was still just as wonderful.

“I’m a little better than fine, actually.” I admitted with a bright smile.

Spencer hummed something in thought, but then winced. “Do me a favor.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and wiping a heavy hand over his face.

“Anything.”

“Kick my ass in the morning.”

He was caught off guard by my response, which was a full-hearted laugh that was too loud for how close the two of were. But I couldn’t help it, it was just so Spencer to still be punishing himself despite the fact that nothing bad had happened.

Once I calmed down enough to talk, I turned to him with a devilish grin. “I don’t wanna.”

Then were both laughing, and Spencer pulled me close to him until he could rest his chin on the top of my head, curling up against my side. “Spoiled brat.” He whined, running his hand through my hair and down my arm.

When I smelled the whiskey on his breath, the guilt hit me just as hard as any of the pleasure. I'd been so excited to get to experience this with him again, I almost forgot the reason he didn’t want to do it in the first place.

He just didn’t want to hurt me. He just wanted to make me happy.

“I just wanted to be with you again... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” I whispered, pulling the covers up so that I could hide my shame beneath them.

“I wanted to be with you, too.” He reassured me, half asleep and barely able to talk but wanting to get the words out. “I know it’s important to you, but I need you to know I would be with you even if I never got to touch you again.”

“Please never stop touching me.” I quickly replied, a genuine worry in my eyes.

But when Spencer glanced over, he just laughed, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“No? Even when I get pregnant and have a big ol’ belly?” I playfully answered, bringing his hand to my stomach and pressing it against the side that still remained intact.

The familiar position caused a shift in Spencer’s body language, and suddenly he was even more insistent on being impossibly closer. “You’ll still be irresistible to me.” He said against my hair, running his fingers lightly over the unmarked skin of my lower stomach.

“We’ll see, I guess.” I mumbled, not realizing that I said it aloud until I heard his confused reply.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” The defensiveness in my voice was terrifyingly transparent, and I hoped that if his drinking made him forget anything, it would be this conversation. “Go to sleep, drunk ass.”

“I need hugs and kisses first.” He complained, rubbing his nose against me in a way that should have been irritating instead of adorable.

“Spoiled.” I grumbled, reaching a hand up to play with his hair. I turned to kiss his cheek through the smile that was plastered over my cheeks.

Already half snoring in his sleepy state, he got out one more cringe worthy joke before he succumbed to his exhaustion. “What’s good for the goose...”

“...is good for the gander.” I finished for him, before taking the advice and following him to sleep.

—————————————————

| Part 18 |

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lauraperfectinsanity · 4 years

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1) Different First Meeting: Carlos, while patrolling, gets into a car accident. He isn’t seriously injured, but he’s stuck in his car and concussed. He gets rescued by TK and the newly re-formed Station 126. Concussed Carlos flirts non-stop with the gorgeous firefighter but when he wakes up in the hospital, he thinks he hallucinated the guy to his rescue. ------> “You and I, Collide” by @bellakitse

2) TK is obviously seeing someone. Everyone at 126 can see that, but they don’t know who the mystery guy is (they tried to pry the information from TK, but he’s tight-lipped). One night, while the team is out at the bar with the paramedic team and Carlos, Paul’s attention is caught by TK’s hand on Carlos’ hip while passing him by. He does his “thing” and observes them: the subtle smiles and looks, the subtle flirting and touching, a longing look while the other walks away and a little jealousy when someone approaches the other. They aren’t obvious, but Paul puts together the pieces and ends up blurting out “YOU’RE THE MYSTERY GUY!”. ------> “Secret Smiles” by @brillliantbanshee

3) Different First Meeting: In the first weeks in Austin, the station 126 is still under renovation, and TK, used to take advantage of his station’s gym equipments, needs to find himself a gym to go to. The one he chooses, happens to be the favorite of a certain APD’s officer. ------> “One for the Pro Column” by @bellakitse

4) Michelle has been trying for years to find a boyfriend for her best friend Carlos. Everytime she tried to introduce him someone, though, it ends up a failure. When Michelle meets the new firefighting crew of the Station 126 and meets TK Strand, she’s sure she has found the perfect fit for Carlos. Carlos is very skeptical, despite Michelle’s descriptions and praises of the guy (he has experience with her terrible matchmaking skills), but he still agrees to stop by the station. ------> “The Last of the Romantics” by @bellakitse

5) A couple of Carlos’ sisters are out one night. When they spot their brother, they’re about to say hi, when they notice he’s not alone. It looks like their brother is picking up takeout food with a gorgeous guy and it looks like they aren’t just friends. The two scheme on how to bring up the topic with their brother, and they decide to do it at family dinner, in front of everyone.

6) The 126 tries to guess TK’s full name for years, but the mystery remains unsolved. The mystery is solved when Carlos proposes to him, calling him “Tyler Kennedy Strand”. ------> “The Name of the Game” by Gwenders

7) Carlos and TK have the same phone’s model. One morning, while in a hurry, TK grabs accidentally Carlos’ phone. He’s waiting for a call so, when the phone rings, he doesn’t even look at the caller ID and answers. He doesn’t expect it to be someone looking for Carlos, his mother. ------> “Crossed Connections” by Aklusmos

8) The 126 firefighting crew, the paramedics team and Carlos are out at their favorite bar for the night. Carlos needs to unwind a bit after a difficult week and he’s slightly drunk, but also really cute, clingy with his boyfriend and filterless. ------> “Cuervo Confessions” by @bellakitse

9) The 126 answers a call about an unconscious vlogger who passed out during a live video. TK brings down the door, they enter the apartment and set to help the unconscious patient, unknowingly, in front of the live camera. Despite Marjan, Paul and Mateo’s ongoing competition for social media fame, it’s TK who steals the show and goes viral, becoming, unwillingly, an internet sensation. (NOT SPECIFICALLY A TARLOS PROMPT, BUT STILL COULD BE ONE)

10) It’s Carlos’ birthday and his family is planning a surprise party for him at his own apartment, for when he gets home after his shift. They turn off the lights and wait for him to come home. But it’s actually Carlos that surprises them all when he shows up while passionately kissing, making out and undressing with a unknown guy (like in 1x02). ------> “Birthday Surprises” by Aklusmos

11) The 126 answers a call about a car accident. In one of the cars there’s a woman, not too badly hurt but stuck in the car. TK crawls in the car wreck to check on her while the others work on how to free her. The woman says something about him being charming and probably being a ladies’ man, but he tells her he plays for the other team (like with Owen’s chemo friend in 1x05). The woman is even happier and she tells him she has a very handsome and single gay son, but TK, even if endeared, tells her his boyfriend wouldn’t approve. But TK is shocked when a frantic Carlos shows up, cause the woman in the car is actually his mother (and yes, she doesn’t know her son has a boyfriend). ------> “Collisions” by Aklusmos

12) TK and Carlos have been chosen to go to their district’s high school for Career Week representing, respectively, the Fire and Police Departments, to have someone closer to the students’ age. The students expect the usual middle aged guys when the two come in. ------> “Somebody Call 9-1-1″ by Aklusmos

13) Owen comes back home a day early from a short trip. The last thing he’s expecting is to find his son with a naked man in his bed (Is that Officer Reyes??). TK insists it’s a casual thing with no labels and little feelings, but the leftovers of a romantic dinner and the way the two behave and kiss each other goodbye, tell Owen otherwise.

14) When his sister asks Carlos to quickly borrow his phone to make a call, he doesn’t think twice about lending it to her. What she finds is a photo of her brother with a hot guy as the home and lock screen. ------> “Shout it to the World” by @brillliantbanshee

15) When TK and Carlos hooked up, it was always a rush thing, never even reaching the bedroom, and always ending with TK leaving before even getting to catch his breath. TK tried not to get too attached, even though he’s actually a really cuddly person, especially after sex. With the time passing and them getting to know each other, Carlos starts to see glimpses of this side of his non-boyfriend. When they officially get together, TK has no reasons to hide his cuddly side from Carlos.

16) TK is at the mall looking for a present, when he meets a little kid who lost their mom and uncle in the mall. TK is pretty good with kids and is still in uniform, so the kid trusts him and goes with him to the information desk to call for their mom. TK certainly doesn’t expect for his brand new boyfriend Carlos to show up with his sister, the kid’s mother. ------> “Let’s Go to the Mall” by @bellakitse

17) Mateo is out with some friends one night, when he spots TK. He’s about to call out to him to say hi and maybe invite him to join them, when he notices TK isn’t alone, he’s with officer Reyes and yep, they’re kissing. He doesn’t know what to do with that information and decides to keep it to himself, until one day he accidentally blurts it out to everybody.

18) One morning, Carlos shows up at the 126. Owen thinks officer Reyes is there to give him, the Fire Captain, some documents, or he’s there to meet with Michelle, since he knows they’re good friends. Instead, Carlos surprises him by being there to bring TK the phone he left at his apartment that morning.

19) TK has to go back to NYC for an old friend’s wedding and he brings Carlos as his date, even if they’re dating for only a few months. At the reception, they meet Alex, who thought he would meet an heartbroken and lonely TK, begging to be taken back (THIS IS AN ALTERNATE VERSION OF THE PROMPT #20). ------> “A Puzzle I Love to Solve” by @brillliantbanshee

20) TK has to go back to NYC for an old friend's wedding. At the reception, among the guests there's Alex who's hoping to meet his old boyfriend TK to reconnect and maybe give their story a new chance. All his hopes are gone, when TK shows up with a husband and their kid (THIS IS AN ALTERNATE VERSION OF THE PROMPT #19).

21) TK and Carlos are casually seeing each other without putting labels on it and without the others knowing. TK spent the night at Carlos’ apartment, but he wakes up very late, he doesn’t have a car and waiting for a uber is a further waste of time. It’s Carlos’ day off and he offers him to take his car. TK then shows up at the 126 with a gorgeous blue Camaro, among everyone’s surprise.

22) TK and Carlos are casually seeing each other, without putting labels on it and without TK’s team and dad knowing. One night, TK bails on a team outing with an excuse, to see Carlos, when they accidentally end up at the same place as the 126. ------> “Wanna Dance With Somebody” by Aklusmos

23) In the middle of the night, while on shift, Marjan wakes up to grab a glass of water, and finds an unusually soft TK talking to someone over the phone. It’s obvious it’s someone important to TK and Marjan is so very curious (TK and Marjan’s friendship). ------> “Midnight Talk About Boys” by @bellakitse

24) During a call, a guy shamelessly flirts with TK while he works, and Carlos shamelessly glares at the guy while trying not to arrest him.

25) TK and Carlos are seeing each other, without labels and without TK’s team and dad knowing. One night, the two accidentally fall asleep at TK’s house, and, in the morning, Carlos is a little late sneaking out and ends up reaching for the door in the exact moment Owen comes back home from the night shift.

26) One morning, TK is still asleep at Carlos’ house, while the latter is already at work. TK wakes up hearing sounds in the house and is getting ready to face a possible intruder, when he finds a middle aged woman in the kitchen re-stocking the fridge. It sure isn’t how TK thought he’d meet his boyfriend’s mother.

27) One of Carlos’ siblings is getting married and Carlos asks TK to go to the wedding with him as his date, and to introduce him to his family.

28) Carlos is injured on the job, nothing serious, but he’s in a hospital room with his entire family fretting over him, when a frantic TK, in uniform, shows up. Time to meet the family that didn’t know you existed!

29) Carlos is bringing his brand new boyfriend to a family BBQ to introduce him to his family. During the party, though, one of Carlos’ cousin, who’s pregnant, is starting to go into labor there, in the house backyard. Luckily, there’s a very calm and professional TK, who has experience in helping pregnant women and delivering babies.

#Tarlos #Tarlos Prompts #TK Strand #Carlos Reyes #911 Lone Star #911: Lone Star #9-1-1: Lone Star #IT'S TARLOS BITCHES #TK and Carlos #Tyler Kennedy Strand

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ofmythsandmadness · 3 years

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prompts & requests.

SO...I never meant to delay this for so long, I’m so sorry for this, but I’m excited to rejuvenate this page -- I’m quite bad with tumblr, but I just hit 350 followers and I figured I’d put in a second dime for trying to make this little account work. People seem to like my little writings (which surprises me tbh, but I appreciate the love) and I’ve gotten a lot of questions about requests, so here’s the masterpost of all that for here!

PLEASE NOTE: I don’t use Tumblr too regularly, I’m trying to be more active but because of life & stuff, I’m not always active to write. Plus, just because you request something, doesn’t mean I will automatically be able to give that! It takes time, inspiration, and often the ability to form a sentence, which weirdly I struggle with. Way too often.

ALSO! please feel free to check out the kofi link in my bio (can’t link it here bc tumblr doesn’t like links and this won’t show up at all) and buy me a coffee if you feel like it! please don’t if you can’t and i’m not trying to force, guilt or forcibly nudge anyone to do it, it’s just if you can and want to support me, that’d be real sweet. :)

WHO I WRITE FOR...most people look at this acc for tua writings, which i’ve got an abundance of! I’m quite fine with any requests of any characters, except for five (unless like it’s some aged up version of him; I don’t feel comfy writing about him and I just don’t care to). I also will write for a lot of other fandoms if you ask for them: those including marvel, stranger things (those of age, i’m not writing stories about minors), harry potter and a couple others. Just ask me, I’ll let you know if I write for the fandom & we can move from there, darling. :)

HOW TO REQUEST...I prefer not too many details in a request, just so I still feel inspired to write the piece. So, if you’re asking based on a prompt below, tell me the number(s), the character you’re looking for, and any details you feel necessary to add! Remember, nothing too specific, like don’t give me the entire plot but things like genre, atmosphere, details on the reader are okay. I usually write either genderless or female reader (I try to stick with the former to be accommodating) but you can ask for a specifically gender-neutral or female/male reader too. This also applies to fics you want garnered to a specific section of the LGBTQIA+ community (for example, if you wanted a lesbian reader with Vanya Hargreeves). I try not to add any details to appearance to the story so that everyone can enjoy the fic, but again you can ask for any specific and I will try my best to accomodate for you lovelies.

REQUEST EXAMPLE - “Can you write something with prompt number 3 and 17? Preferably with a gender-neutral reader, and with Allison Hargreeves? I’d like it to be a happy fic, please, and for the reader to not have any powers. Also, they’re a cat person! Thanks!”

Obviously, I know most people know what’s up and are respectful. But just in case you wanted an example, there you go. :)

PROMPTS LIST

(these were made by me and to my knowledge, they’re not used elsewhere, only some were taken off my last requests list. also, feel free to mix + match and ask for as many as you want)

Quote Based Prompts:

1. ‘I think I’m falling for you,’ clumsy character. 2. ‘C’mon, this is definitely safe!’ 3. ‘Do you believe in ghosts?’ + ‘Why, is there something you want to tell me?’ 4. ‘Shut up about your black coffee aesthetic and try my (insert here) drink.’ 5. ‘I’m only asking for a hug because I forgot my coat and you’re like a human furnace...don’t get any ideas.’ 6. ‘Just five more minutes.’ 7. ‘And you’re sure this isn’t illegal?’ 8. ‘Wanna go get married?’ 9. ‘I love you” “don’t lie to me’ 10. ‘I hate you’ + ‘no, you don’t.’ 11. ‘let’s dance to taylor swift and forget about reality for a moment, please.’ 12. ‘why don’t you trust me?’ 13. ‘promise me, we’ll make it out of this alive.’ 14. ‘we can’t just pushing each other away and expecting things are going to change.’ 15. ‘why are you helping me?’ 16. ‘tell me a secret.’ 17. ‘you can’t friend-zone me, we’re married!’ 18. ‘is this the end?’ 19. ‘I let you win.’ 20. ‘go away’ + ‘no, not until I know you’re okay’ 21. ‘we were supposed to be forever.’ 22. ‘nothing’s fair in love and war.’ 23. ‘I want to be here for the good and the bad.’ 24. ‘So...what happened this time?’ 25. ‘I just really wanted to see you.’ 26. ‘Uh, that’s the whole point?!’ 27. ‘You cut your hair?’ + ‘I just needed a change.’ 28. ‘I can’t lose you too, dammit!’ 29. ‘Don’t lie, you’re a hopeless romantic at heart.’ 30. ‘Can we keep it?!’ 31. ‘Why can’t this happen like it does in the movies?!’ 32. ‘Can you come with me? It’s just to get gum, but I don’t want to be alone.’ 33. ‘I made muffins!’ + ‘You can bake?!’ 34. ‘I can’t sleep.’ + ‘We can share.’ 35. ‘It used to be so simple...’ 36. ‘STOP SINGING THAT SONG OR-’ + ‘-or what?’ 37. ‘I just wanted to tell you...you look really nice tonight.’ 38. ‘Ooh, show me, show me!’ 39. ‘I really wish I could paint, because you’re the perfect muse right now.’ 40. ‘Where’d you learn how to do that?’ 41. ‘Hey, it’s okay...you’re safe now.’ 42. ‘Am I in heaven?’ + ‘Aw, you think I’m your idea of heaven?’ 43. ‘I’m not crying!’ + ‘Oh, so it’s normal for your eyes to leak like that?’ 44. ‘Why wouldn’t you tell me that sooner?!’ 45. ‘What do you think of kids?’ 46. ‘Do you think I’m a good person?’ 47. ‘Don’t look down.’ + ‘You’re only telling me that now?!’ 48. ‘It’s okay...it’s going to be okay...’ 49. ‘I didn’t think it would hurt so much to do this.’ 50. ‘Nerd.’ + ‘Loser.’ 51. ‘Wait, you actually came?’ 52. ‘You didn’t notice the one bed before?!’ + ‘It didn’t say on the website!’ 53. ‘I’m in the hospital, but don’t worry--’ + ‘Don’t worry?!’ 54. ‘Yeah, I was jealous. So what?’ 55. ‘Did you know you talk when you sleep?’ 56. ‘Of course I kept it. Why wouldn’t I?’ 57. ‘I can’t get you out of my head...’ 58. ‘I made you it because I love you, duh.’ 59. ‘I trust you.’ 60. ‘How am I supposed to trust you?!’ 61. ‘You have to start getting better excuses.’ 62. ‘I think they like you!’ 63. ‘I swear if you sing baby it’s cold outside ONE MORE TIME--’ 64. ‘You’re telling me you don’t know all the words to Promiscuous? Who are you?!’ 65. ‘I only went along with it for your sake, you know I hate (insert here).’ 66. ‘Hold my hand but only so we don’t get lost. I don’t need you getting any ideas about us.’ 67. ‘Loosen up, jackass, and give in to evil a little more!’ 68. ‘You didn’t respond to any of my texts, so I assumed you were either dying or crying. I brought answers to both situations.’ 69. ‘That’s it. I’m officially convinced that you’re actually three years old.’

Situation Based Prompts: 1. Person A refuses to dress for the cold and gets sick; Person B is stuck taking care of them afterwards. 2. Person A finds a stray and wants to take it home, but Person B isn’t so interested. 3. Coffee Shop AU; Person A shows up every Saturday to work, and Person B becomes infatuated with the mysterious person. 4. Person A wants to watch a scary movie. Person B accepts, too chicken to admit they’re terrified of horror movies. 5. Person A falls asleep, and Person B plays with their hair. 6. Person A and B wake up hungover and realise that they got married last night. 7. ‘Oh...you love them’, where Person A realises that their real feelings for Person B. 8. Person A is a Christmas enthusiast, but Person B hates the holiday season. 9. (School Based Prompt); Person A doesn’t know how to talk to Person B, and decides to pretend to need help in a subject they definitely don’t need help with. 10. Person A decides to confess their feelings to Person B through a series of anonymous gifts...only they aren’t who B suspects behind it all... 11. Person A and B have a Catwoman/Batman type relationship, dancing around one another and ignoring their obvious feelings. 12. Younger!Person A and B shared their first kiss with each other -- not because of feelings, JUST to get it over with. It never meant anything, right? 13. There’s only a little bit of time left for Person A...will they make it to B, in time? 14. (Flower Shop AU) Person A comes in every day to purchase the same single flower every time, and Person B has no clue why. 15. (Villain/Hero AU) Person A goes home to find B in their bed, bleeding and fast asleep. 16. Person A has a fear of driving. Person B finally asks why. 17. (School Based AU) Person A and B get paired together to complete a project worth a lot of their grade. The only problem? They hate each other. 18. (Coffee Shop AU) Person A comes in every day with a different name and sunglasses on, ordering the same thing every time. And Person B is obsessed. 19. Person A has a hard day at work. Person B doesn’t know what they should do to help. 20. Person A finally finds out about Person B’s big secret -- only, it doesn’t come from Person B. 21. Person A is the most oblivious person in the world. Person B is slowly losing their mind over it. 22. Everyone thinks that Person A and C are meant to be together, and it’s only A and B who really, really don’t see it. 23. And they were roommates (oh my god, they were roommates...) 24. Person A’s roommate’s boyfriend is over again, and they escape to Person B’s for peace of mind. 25. Person A finds a random bag and is determined to return it to the owner -- only, all the clues she has for who the person really is, is in the contents of the bag. 26. (Party Based Prompt) Person A and B really, really didn’t want to go to the party. But maybe meeting one another makes it worth it. 27. Person A and B go laser-tagging for some stress relief. 28. There’s a Halloween party and neither A or B knows who the other is going as. But the (insert costume) standing in the corner is looking rather suspicious... 29. (Apocalypse AU) Person A and B have been struggling for months alone, and finally reach something that gives them hope. 30. Person A and B both head to the roof for some escape. They definitely didn’t expect to see someone in their special place... 31. Person A works really late shifts downtown; Person B always makes sure they’re there to give them a ride, no matter how inconvenient it is. 32. Person A forgets about changing their emergency contact, and this backfires when they end up in the hospital... 33. (Soulmate AU) In a world where people don’t age past 21 until they meet their soulmate, Person A is surprised to learn that the partner they’ve been with for four years hasn’t aged a day -- but they have. 34. (Airport AU) Everything shuts down in a last-minute snowstorm, leaving two strangers stranded. 35. (School AU) Everyone ships Teacher A and B together, and scheme to finally set them up. 36. Person A and B ride the train together every day. 37. (Doctor AU) Person A has to take Person C to the doctors. Much to both surprise, Person A falls quickly for the Doctor who comes in (Person B) -- and Person C takes it upon themselves to let B know. 38. (Neighbours AU) Person A is tired of hearing Person B being so loud so late at night -- especially when they have to get up super early. They finally decide to confront them on it. 39. (Soulmate AU) Everyone has the same cuts, bruises and scars as their soulmate, which really freaks out Person A, who becomes determined to find their soulmate to make them stop getting hurt. 40. Person A and B are hiding their relationship from everyone. They’re not very good at it. 41. Person A finally trusts Person B to meet their (insert here); the last step in their relationship. 42. Person A sends their text to the LAST person they wanted to send it to: Person B. 43. (Delivery Person AU) Person A somehow always manages to be the one to sign for the office packages...does Person B have anything to do with it? (Also, why does A keep buying so much stuff?!) 44. (Arranged Marriage) Person A is being forced into a marriage to Person C neither they or Person B wants. But B might just have a plan out... 45. (Bodyguard AU) Person A always knew that Person C was rich, but never rich enough to need a legit bodyguard. But when C’s father’s company is threatened, they call in the big dogs -- and they’re cute, too. Aka...A makes a point to catch the attention of Person B at any time possible, much to their upset. 46. (University AU) Person A needs a model. Person B needs a way to occupy their afternoon. Thus, a deal is struck. 47. Person A is a private detective hired to work the case on a mysterious murder (that strangely, Person C doesn’t want getting out). Person B is C’s lead suspect, but A can’t help but feel like they’re not the real culprit... 48. Person A drags Person B along onto a roadtrip across the country to go visit their oddball grandparents. But things go south quickly. 49. Person A gets robbed, and has no one to call when they can’t shake the nightmares but Person B. 50. Person A can manipulate time, but only by an hour. Person B doesn’t know this, but gets suspicious when they see A do something very, very weird... (you can supply more details for this one) 51. (Neighbours AU) Person A and B have the thinnest walls ever, which would suck, but they both oddly have the exact same taste in music. It’s nice; if only they got to meet. 52. (Store AU) Person A and B get locked into their work’s freezer for the night. 53. (Coffee Shop AU) Person B has never met Person A; they always miss them by only a minute. They do, however, manage to sit at the exact same table every day and pick up the piece of art they leave for the next customer. 54. Person A has loved Person B their entire life. Too bad they’ll never get to tell them. 55. (Diner AU) Person A meets Person B at three in the morning when they stumble in soaked. They’re surprised, when they show up again...and again...at the exact same time. 56. (5+1) Five times Person A told Person B they loved them, and the one time Person B finally said it back. 57. (5+1) The five times Person A surprises Person B, and the one time Person B surprises A. 58. (5+1) The five times Person A broke Person B’s heart, and the one time they didn’t. 59. (5+1) The five times Person A saved Person B...and the one time Person B couldn’t save A. 60. (5+1) The five times A and B almost meet, and the first time they finally do. 61. (5+1) The five times Person A lies to Person B, and the one time they finally tell the truth. 62. Person B is like, super allergic to dogs. But Person A doesn’t need to know that. 63. Person A has no clue how to tell Person B how they feel. So, they make a playlist. 64. Person A and B accidentally switch luggage at the airport.

Happy requesting, darlings.

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