#one day i’m scared out of my mind and trying to stop them from relapsing

[et3rnal-dr3am3r]

the constant up and down cycle of this whole thing is exhausting

[justalittlesolarpunk]

Hi there! I'm writing this in hopes that you'll have some advice. Lately I've been struggling a lot with concern for climate change. Mainly because I fear that I won't have a future, that when I'm older I'll live in a planet where you can't even go out because of the heat and everything is completely destroyed. And it's been affecting my day-to-day life. And no matter how much I try to avoid bad news they'll show up to me and I relapse into the anxiety and lose all the progress I made.

The bad news and the things that are happening (for example this thing going around of flowers growing in cold places, the one that probably worries me the most) make me feel like maybe the good things won't be enough and I won't have a future, no matter how much I hope. All I want is to be certain I'll have a life and things will get better

Do you have any advice to stop feeling this way? Thank you in advance!

Hi there. So firstly, thanks for reaching out. Anxiety can make us want to isolate ourselves and so you’ve taken a brave first step in seeking connection. I felt like you feel for a long time, and still do sometimes. It can feel like the change is so huge, so rapid, so irreversible, and human responses so weak, so slow, so apathetic. But I’m here to tell you that however reasonable being frightened is, it doesn’t have to be the end of the journey. Grief and fear are a good start for your environmental affect, because it means you’re keyed in and you care. But stopping there will only paralyse you.

I know the good things feel small, which is why it’s important to bombard yourself with them so you get a sense of just how much momentum we are building in the movement right now. I regularly check out Positive News and the Good News Network, and follow Sam Bentley and lots of ‘weekly earth win’ type accounts. When you see how much plastic people are clearing out of the ocean, how much solar and wind prices have come down, how Paris is now full of cyclists and London’s deaths from air pollution are reducing, how Europe is slowly rewilding and land is being returned to indigenous people, you realise that quietly, determinedly, good is happening in the background. And you aren’t always not seeing it just because it’s smaller or less important - bear in mind that the media sells on engagement, so attention-grabbing disasters will always hit front page news. It’s hard to quantify people who are alive who wouldn’t otherwise be, oil in the ground because people stopped a pipeline. Justice is often less hypervisible and sudden than injustice.

For me personally, taking action and spending time with others who are doing the same is the single biggest thing that cured a lot of my anxiety. Depending on your age, income, profession and health, I would recommend doing whatever is accessible to you of eating as much plant-based food as possible, reducing your use of aeroplanes and cars to as close to zero as is reasonable, making sure your stove, heating and hot water is being powered by electricity, switching to a renewable tariff, attending regular activist meetings and the protests and public debates these will lead you into, buying fewer clothes, single-use plastic items and other non-essentials, lobbying for change at your workplace, your university or your school, and bringing the subject up as often as you can with friends and family, so discussing climate change becomes more of a cultural norm. (I always find with these conversations though that scaring people is deeply counterintuitive and encourages them to get angry with you and bury their heads deeper in the sand. Why not start a conversation about how much healthier you feel when you eat lentils, or how transnational rail is making a comeback, or how exciting it is what they can do with solar and battery storage these days, or the amazing flood prevention benefits of reintroducing beavers?) I saw a tweet once that said ‘I bet 80% of your climate anxiety will disappear if you work full time on climate.’ Now I don’t work in that sphere yet, but I’m currently retraining, and I have to say a lot of my anxiety has quietened knowing that I am doing all I can and will continue to do so for the rest of my working life. And don’t feel like your skills or educational/professional background hold you back either: solving this crisis isn’t just for scientists and can’t be left to only one sector of society. I was an English Lit grad - now I’m hoping to work in campaigning, comms or social policy to make positive change for the better around climate. If it’s possible for you, I’d recommend starting to consider entering the green sector full time. Just watch out for corporate greenwash!

I know that changing your individual lifestyle isn’t going to save the planet, but it might just save you. Once you feel you have done everything you can in your personal life, it might embolden you to show up in activist spaces, to connect with other people who care, and to remember that as terrifying and agonising as the changes we are causing and witnessing are, there is always still hope, and it is easy to create and nurture that hope if you only keep hold of the right narratives and connect with the right people.

I’ve answered some similar asks on this sort of topic, so I’d recommend scrolling back through my blog and reading them, and also following as many solarpunks as you can across all of social media. Solarpunk Presents podcast does a good job of drawing your attention to the good stuff already happening now. Stay safe, take care of yourself and remember you have so much to offer. We were all born at the most pivotal time in human history. That is a burden, but it’s also a gift. We can have the most impactful and meaningful lives to date, and I think we will. But the fight has to start now, and that means we have to be ready for it. You can’t strive for a better tomorrow if you can’t imagine it, so take some time to look after you and really douse yourself in hope and optimism - it’s out there waiting to be found, if you only look in the right places.

[popcrone818]

How Could You Know-Part Three

Part Three   Series Masterlist     Main Masterlist 

Warning; Mentions of death and overdose 

Callie P.O.V

  Camille and I made our way back home after grabbing tacos.

“So, was that Luke I saw back at the bar?” she asked me as she handed me my taco and a drink.

“Yes, it was Luke. He's a Marine now, with Frankie. He looks better now too.”

“Yeah, he looks good.” We both lent back in our chairs on the balcony as I watched the waves crash to shore. I silently chewed on my taco as I thought over tonight’s events. I hadn’t ever planned on seeing Luke again. But here I was thinking about him like we hadn’t both gotten sober. Like our pasts had never gotten as bad as they were. “You should reach out to him, if he's sober, try to reconnect. You guys had a great friendship once, see if that’s still there.” Camille had her eyes closed as she spoke. I hummed in agreeance and looked back out at the waves. “I get it, you don’t want to talk about him.”

“Don’t want to talk about him? Everything went to shit when I knew him. And then to top it all off I had to go and fucking fall in love with him.” she looked at me sideways before she turned fully towards me. “The whole time I was with Johno all I wanted was to be with Luke. Doing drugs together was euphoric, I felt a high around him I had never felt before. Tonight, when I was having the panic attack, he brought me out of it. But I could see the fear in his eyes. He remembered when he found me passed out in Johno’s bathroom. Johno nowhere to be found, he stayed with me that night, then he just disappeared. I haven’t spoken to him or seen him for two years Cami, I can’t do it again. I'm scared I'm going to relapse. I can’t go back there.” My hands started to shake, she reached over to take them in her own shaking ones.

“You will get through this. We will get through this, together. We are all we have in this world now. I'm not going to let you go back there, I won’t let you go near Johno again and I won’t push you to go anywhere near Luke if you don’t want to.” I nodded at her as she squeezed my hands gently. “Do you want to watch movies?”

“No, I think I'm going to get some sleep, I'm exhausted after my panic attack. Raincheck?” She nodded, and I got up from my seat and took my rubbish with me.

I made it into bed with thoughts swimming through my mind, even though I was exhausted my mind wouldn’t shut off. I had been out for less than 24 hours and already my life felt like it was going off the deep end. The most terrifying thought I had was what was Johno going to do once he found out I was out now? I couldn’t go back down the path that led me to rehab, I was clean and sober now. And it terrified me that all of that could change in an instant if I let my guard down.

The next morning I woke up to Camille knocking on my bedroom door before she popped her head in.

“You have a visitor.” She sang quietly. “Its Frankie.”

I groaned but got out of bed, I didn’t bother changing and walked out to see Frankie in the living room.

“My parents are throwing me a going away party. Do you think you could make it?” I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my body against his.

“Of course I’ll be there, how could I say no to my best friend?” he pulled me in tighter.

“You get to finally meet Riley, oh this is going to be so good. But I got to go I’ll see you later?” I nodded to him and walked him back out to his car. I really need to get myself a new phone.

Camille had made us breakfast and we sat in silence for a little while.

“Cami, do you think we could get me a new phone today, my old one broke while I was gone and I don’t want everyone to have to come here to talk to me.”

“Yes of course, why didn’t I think of that before. Lets get ready then well go shopping, well have a girly day before you have to head off to Frankie’s party later.” We raced each other to get ready and I beat her as I sat and waited on the sofa in the living room.

Our first stop was the Apple store, where Camille picked up the new iPhone 13 pro max for me and paid for it while I tried to fight her telling her I didn’t need one of the newest ones. I thanked her profusely as she dragged me to a nail salon. The rest of the morning was spent having some much-needed sister time.

“Oh shoot, can you drop me off at Frankie’s?” I asked Camille when I looked at the time as we stuffed our faces with loaded fries. She also looked at the time and took a quick sip of her soda before she nodded. We collected our bags and took off in search for her car.

 I knocked on Frankie’s door as Camille pulled out of his driveway waving to me.

“The government that made my mom pay taxes for ten years, before giving her the right to vote? That government?” I could hear Cassie talking and so I just made my way inside the house. The door was unlocked, and when I stepped inside I saw Cassie stepping closer to Luke and Frankie sitting at the kitchen bench, which amused at the two currently having an argument.

“so your mom was living here illegally then?” Luke had his arms crossed as his feet shoulder width apart, something new I had noticed about him, but maybe Cassie just brought out his tough guy law abiding citizen look. Frankie saw me and nodded at me while they fought. I stayed in the living room and watched on.

“don’t tell me you’re a resident of southern California that does not see how this state was built off the backs of illegal immigrants. Like my mom who crossed that border, lived here for ten years, worked their asses off for ten years, paying taxes for your government, and were treated like less than citizens. Yeah, I will proudly rip off the government. You got anything else to say Commando?” Cassie stepped back from Luke and Frankie chuckled. Luke’s eyes shot up from Cassie and looked at Frankie.

“Dude, this is a trap.” Luke’s eyes briefly flitted to me before squaring in on Cassie again. “This will not end well for you.” Luke went to turn away to walk outside.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Mmm.” Cassie hummed as Luke turned around completely. His eyes found me, and he nodded his head outside so I would follow him. I had no idea why Cassie was at Luke’s throat, and I really had no interest in joining her crusade to piss off Luke. So, I followed him outside waving to Cassie as I did. “Thanks for the help.”

“So, you wanted me out of there why? What’s Cassie talking to Frankie about?” I questioned him crossing my arms.

“She wants them to get married so she can get health insurance to pay off her medical debt. Which is fraud, I can’t let Frankie do this to himself. He’ll ruin his life.”

“Since when did you become miss goody two shoes?” I asked him leaning up against the side of the house.

“Since the day I saw you passed out on the bathroom floor from an overdose two years ago.” My eyes shot up from the ground as I looked deeply into his eyes.

“That’s where you went?” he nodded crossing his arms and looking down at his feet. “A nurse told me you were there when I first got there but when I woke up you were nowhere to be found.” He looked up at me again as tears gathered in my eyes.

“I got the help I needed, now I owe him $15,000 after I had to pay my dad off.” He looked away from me when he told me he owed Johno money. “When did you go? What caused your turn around?”

“When mom found me with a needle hanging out of my arm and me passed out in the bathtub she took me straight to a hospital, after they discharged me with only a minor overdose, she admitted me into the drug rehab centre in oceanside. She’s the reason ii got sober, and I didn’t even get the chance to thank her or say goodbye to her.” Tears fell freely down my face as I recounted the broken look on my mom’s face when I came too after she found me. “They wouldn’t even give me a day pass to go to her funeral. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her Luke.” He walked closer to me and when he was within reaching distance, he pulled my smaller frame into his rock-hard body. He cradled my head gently as I cried into his shirt.

“Shhh, it’s going to be okay. I’ll take you to see her if you’d like?”

“I don’t think she would want to see you, Luke. She blamed you for a lot of everything that happened.” I sniffled and he chuckled.

“Then I’ll just deal with the wrath of Ms. Montgomery, wouldn’t be the first time. Come on, I don’t want to see if Frankie agrees to this anyway.” I nodded and let him lead me back through the house. Frankie and Cassie going quiet as we walked through.

“We’re going to see my mom.” I spoke to Frankie and didn’t look at Cassie. He nodded and Luke placed a gentle hand on the small of my back and lead me out to Frankie’s car.

We got to the cemetery shortly after leaving Frankie’s, I frantically looked down the first row of graves before turning to Luke.

“I don’t even know where she is.” The tears hadn’t stopped as he rushed up to me and pulled me into him again.

“I know where she is. When Frankie told me, I spent all day here looking for her. I needed to apologise to her for everything I had put you through to get to the point of you going away.” He took my hand and lead me to a grave towards the back. When I saw her name on the headstone I fell to my knees. Luke followed and gathered me up into his arms again. I gently pushed him away and crawled up to her headstone. My hand traced her name etched into the stone.

“Hi mommy, I miss you so much. I wish you could see where I am now,” I took a shaky breath as I wiped the tears rolling down my cheeks. “I’ve been sober for 12 months now. Frankie’s leaving for Iraq soon, and I feel like I only just got back and got him back. I don’t know how I'm going to survive if he doesn’t come back.” Another shaky deep breath ignoring Luke’s presence now. “I found Luke again too, he's been sober for two years, you should see him now. He's a Marine, like his old man. Who knew Luke Morrow could be a Marine?” I gave a watery chuckle. “I miss you everyday, I'm sorry I couldn’t come say goodbye, they wouldn’t let me out. But I'm here to say goodbye now. I’ll never forget you and everything you’ve ever done for me growing up and everything you still do for me now.” I chanced a glance behind me and remembered Luke. “Luke’s here too, he brought me here. Said he looked for a whole day to find you when Frankie told him. I hope you forgave him, because I have. He saved me that day you know. I could have died but he didn’t let me.” I watched Luke smile at me as he knelt down beside me and took my hand gently in his. “Goodbye mom, I love you so much.” I choked out a sob and turned my head onto Luke’s shoulder, he wrapped both of his strong arms around me and let me cry into his shoulder.

A/N: Please let me know what you think, also if you want to be added to the taglist shoot me a Message/ ask/ comment and ill pop you on,

@desire333

@feitanett

[outerbankspreferences]

I don’t know why you love me - Rafe Cameron

Word Count: 3080

WARNINGS: I went into a bit of detail with his drug problem. If that makes you uncomfortable it’s all italicized so you can skip that part and you shouldn’t be confused.

REQUEST:  Could you write an imagine where Rafe's long time girlfriend says that she sees herself marrying him to Sarah and Rafe overhears. He is super damaged thanks to Ward so he doesn't believe it really and starts to distance himself. A sweet ending please?

MASTERLIST

It was a Sunday afternoon in the Outer banks. Things had calmed down a lot. You were over at the Cameron household helping Sarah make decision on her engagement party. John B had finally popped the question to Sarah with your help. You helped him make sure the ring was the right size and helped narrow down spots. You were so happy for the two of them. You and Sarah had grown close over the years of dating Rafe. She was always there to support you when things got hard with his withdrawal in the beginning. She was your shoulder to cry on when you didn’t want to break in front of him. 

“Rose wants to know who were inviting. Apparently, she wants to have it at the country club.” Sarah sighed slamming her head down on the table. John B had just walked through the door. “Oh god, what did I just walk into.” He asked wondering if he should try and dip out.

 “Your fiancé is trying to narrow down the guest list. Who do you want to invite John B?” You ask him to look through the list you already started. It only had Sarah’s family and extended family. “If you don’t want to have it there Sarah you don’t have to. It’s your engagement party not hers.” You look at her.

 “I know but I don’t know where I want to have it, and we can’t wait to long.” She told you as John B came over rubbing her back trying to be comforting. “If you want to babe, we can look at some places tomorrow. Take your mind off the planning for a bit.” John B suggested trying to be helpful. Honestly, he knew nothing about planning a party and just left it up to you guys. If it were up to him, they would be partying on the beach like old times. “That’s a great idea, did you put the pool cover back on when you were done? I don’t want dad getting pissed again. I listened to him complain about it for like a week.” Sarah asked him. “I did not cover the pool, because your brother is still in there swimming and I didn’t want to drown him this time.” You all laugh. John B and Rafe’s friendship had always been rocky but has gotten better in the last couple of years. He even asked his permission to marry Sarah which you thought was adorable when Rafe told.

 Rafe was no longer swimming he got out of the pool and was putting the cover on it. He had started to collect the things from outside. You guys hung out there all the time because your apartment didn’t have a pool and the beaches were always crowded this time of year. He was walking towards the door when he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard his name.

 “I can’t wait to plan all this stuff with Rafe.” You say more to yourself but both Sarah and John B hearing you. “Did he propose to you?” Sarah almost yells out loud. “Say it louder Sarah, I don’t think they heard you across the street.” John B scolds her. “No, he hasn’t proposed. I wish he would though. After everything we’ve been through, I’m ready for the next part of our life. I just don’t want to freak him out.” You say gushing to Sarah all about the plans you wanted to have with Rafe.

 Rafe couldn’t believe this. He thought he was the luckiest man on earth when you agreed to go out with him. He was still recovering from his addiction, but you were there for him. You knew about his drug addiction, everyone on the island knew about it. You never brought it up to him though. You knew he would tell you when he was ready to let you into that part of him.

 ~FLASHBACK~

It wasn’t until Sarah called you one day saying that Rafe was in the hospital. You’d never driven faster in your life. When you got there, he was thrashing around screaming. You asked Ward what happened, and he told it that he must have gotten a bad cut of drugs. He had been clean for a while and you couldn’t understand what would cause him to relapse, as far as you knew things were going great, you guys just started talk about getting a place together.

 “I don’t understand what would cause him to relapse?” You ask looking at Ward. He shrugged his shoulders, it looked like he could careless about his son. “I don’t know, that’s what addicts to Y/N, they relapse. You should have thought about this before you started dating him. He’s not worth it. You’ve got so much going for you, don’t let him hold you back.” You couldn’t believe what he was saying. Rafe was in danger and he didn’t even care. “He wouldn’t be damaged if it weren’t for you Ward. You broke him. All he ever wanted to do was make you proud. You pushed him to this. What kind of father pushes their son over the edge like this? He needs help because of you. I will not leave him the way you did, because where I come from you don’t give on family like that.” You tell him in front of everybody in the waiting room. You knew it wasn’t your place to say these things, but you were so upset. You tried to walk away when Ward grabbed your arm, “you don’t understand what its like Y/N, on this side of island we have a reputation to uphold.” You look him dead in the eyes. “Clearly you want the wrong reputation.”

 You sat by Rafe’s bed all night holding his hand. The nurses gave him some medications to calm him down and finally took the restraints off. He looked so peaceful sleeping, you wondered what he was dreaming of. The doctor had come in to talk to you about what happened. He explained everything that had happened and that they found traces of LSD in the coke he took. It was a new mix on the island, and if it had been a while since Rafe last used his body probably wasn’t used to it.

 Rafe finally woke up looking around, taking in his surroundings. That’s when he saw you in the chair next to him. You had a blanket covering you with a book in your lap. He couldn’t remember what happened. He only remembered the fight he got in with Ward. He just lost it. Ward was telling him that he wasn’t good enough for you. That Rafe needed to get his life together. He told him that he was holding you back, and you deserved more then a low life drug addict like him. He cursed himself for changing his emergency contact to you when he broke his arm last summer. He moved his hand, and it woke you up. You eyes flutter open adjusting to the brightness of the room. You smiled at him.

 “Hey handsome, how are you feeling?” Even after everything you just watched he was still the most handsome person ever. You were quiet waiting for his answer. “I have a headache, what happened?” He asked you. He was confused and groggy from the medications they gave him. His voice was hoarse from all the screaming. “You had a bad reaction to some drugs you took. They were laced with LSD, Sarah called me, and I got here as soon as I could. It was bad Rafe, you were scream and thrashing around, but it’s okay now. The doctors took care of you they gave you some meds to help counter act the drugs in your system.” You explained to him.

 Just then the doctor comes in. “Mr. Cameron, glad to see your back in order son, how are you feeling?” He looks through Rafe’s chart. “It’s just Rafe, Mr. Cameron is my father, and I feel tired, I have a headache too.” Rafe told the doctor you got up to leave, but he grabbed your hand. “I’m not going far love; I’m just giving you guys some privacy.” You put your hand on top of his. “I know, I just want you to stay please.” He looked at you with scared eyes. You couldn’t imagine how overwhelming this was on him. You sat back down, and the doctor continued talking. “I have looked into some rehabs on the mainland Rafe. You’re still young, you can turn this around. I have a friend who runs one for men your age. I can get you in if you want.” He looked at the both of you. Rafe looked at you as if looking for confirmation. “You need help Rafe, they can give you the help you need. I’ll help you as much as you want but I’m not a professional.” You tell him your honest opinion. You would support him with whatever he chose. “If I go to rehab when do I leave?” He asked the doctor. “I can get you on the ferry in the morning. The sooner the better. You’re normally there eight weeks but you can stay longer if you need.” The doctor looked at the two of you.

 Rafe agreed to go to rehab with your support. It was the longest eight weeks of your lives. You stayed in a hotel over on the island paid for by the Cameron’s to make sure you could be there for him. It broke you to watch him go through withdrawal. He was sick all the time, but the treatment center worked, and he got clean. You guys ended up getting an apartment together afterwards and Rafe kept up with his required therapy.

 Looking back on it, Rafe couldn’t believe you stayed with him. He didn’t know if anyone else would have. So, when he overheard you talking to Sarah about getting married to him, he couldn’t believe you. All those times Ward told him he wasn’t good enough for anyone he believed him. He figured you were just staying with until you found someone better.

 Rafe was distant the whole way home. He didn’t say much in the truck, but you just figured he was tired from being outside all day. When you guys got back to the apartment, he went straight to take a shower. You knock on the door, “Babe you want me to join, I could use a shower too, I smell like chlorine and it’s giving me headache.” When you go to turn the knob its locked. “I won’t be long Y/N, you can shower after me.” He responded through the door. You heard the shower running, it was weird he said that he loved showering with you. He always said he loved the intimacy of it.

 This behavior continued on and off for weeks leading up to the engagement party. Rafe was always making excuses that he busy, he was with Topper, he had something to do with his dad, Wheezie needed to be picked up. It got to the point that you guys only talked at night and even then, things were different. He would cuddle you, but it wasn’t the same. You thought maybe it was the engagement party, he hated getting together with extended family because his father always brought up the business.

 It was finally the night of the engagement party, it was going to be a nice dinner, and photos then back to the Cameron home for an after party. You had picked Rafe’s suit up from the dry cleaners along with your dress. You were wearing a simple form fitting dress. You didn’t want to outshine Sarah on what was supposed to be her night. You were finishing the last bit of your makeup hollering out to Rafe. “Alright babe, I’m all ready to go.” You walk out of the bathroom putting your earrings in. Rafe was sitting on the couch flipping through his phone. He looked up at you and normally he would tell you how beautiful you looked but he just stood up heading to the door.

 The drive was quiet, music playing softly in the background. Rafe didn’t look over at you once. It was making you insecure, did you wear the wrong thing? Did you go overboard? Was it the wrong suit? You guys made small conversation the rest of the way. When you got to the restaurant you sat next to Wheezie, and Rafe sat next to John B. They talked all night but Rafe didn’t say anything to you. When you tried to put your hand on his thigh, he moved it off. You didn’t understand what had gotten into him.

 The pictures didn’t go any better. They did some family ones and then just some of John B and Sarah you took that as your opportunity to pull Rafe a side and mention something. “Is everything okay Rafe?” You ask as soon as you guys are way from listening ears. He gave you a confused look. “Everything’s fine.” He replied not saying anything after. “Oh really because you’ve been distant for weeks. You’ve barely said two things to me all day, did I do something?” You ask concern lacing your voice. You looked in his eye searching for any kind of emotion. “Look can we not make this about us Y/N, its Sarah and John B’s night. We can talk about it later.” He snapped at you. He walked away not saying another thing about it.

 Once you guys got to the party you went your separate ways. You were talking to Kie and Sarah laughing about something they said. You looked around for Rafe and didn’t see him anywhere. “Where’s Rafe Y/N? I haven’t seen him all night.” Kie asked looking at you. You looked around, “your guess is as good as mine. He’s been distant the last couple of weeks, I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” You explain to the girls. They both agreed it was weird for him to be acting that way.

 The DJ started playing some slower songs. Kie went off with Pope dancing and Sarah left with John B. You scanned the room looking for Rafe. You feel someone’s hand on the small of your back and it causes you to jump. You turn around and it’s just him, “sorry didn’t mean to scare you.” He laughs a little. You lean into his touch. “That’s okay, are you enjoying yourself?” You ask him. “Yeah, it’s not that bad of a party.” It was the stupid small talk again.

 That’s when the DJ started playing your guys song. “Rafe it’s our song, let’s go dance to it.” You grab his hand pulling him out to the dance floor before he could protest. You wrapped his arms around your waist, yours going around his neck. He kept distance from you though. You had finally had it.

 “For Christ sakes Rafe, what is going on with you. You’ve been avoiding me like the plague. Did I do something? I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you. Are you not attracted to me anymore, is there someone else?” You start to ramble on. Rafe couldn’t believe you thought you were the problem. “It’s not you Y/N its me.” Rafe cut you off. “Well, that’s just great Rafe. Real cliché of you.” You said to him walking away. You walk onto the porch with him following. You prepared yourself for what you were about to hear.

 “Just tell me Rafe? Is there someone else?” You ask him looking down tears forming in your eyes. “What? No, there’s no one else.” He said to you nonchalantly. “Then what is it?” You ask, ready to break. Rafe took a deep breath. “I overheard you talking to Sarah. When you told her that you were ready for the next step. You told her you wanted to marry me, and I don’t know why. For the life of me, after everything I’ve put you through, I can’t understand why you love me. I don’t know why you want to throw your life away on a count of me.”

 He wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was looking out onto the water. Watching the moon bounce of the waves trying to calm himself. You walk up behind him placing a hand on his back. “I love you Rafe, that’s why I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” You turn his head so he’s looking at you. He had had to see you meant every word you were about to say.

 “I love that you remember my coffee order, even though I change it every week. I love that you make sure my shows are recorded when I forgot them. I love that bring me coffee when I’m working. I love the look in your eye when you just wake up in the morning. I love the sound of your voice when you tired and hung over. I love spending lazy days in bed with you. I love all these things and more. I’ve grown to love your faults, and your positives Rafe Cameron. And I’m sorry if I freaked you out with what I said to Sarah, but I’ve never loved someone like I love you. I love you so much it scares me sometimes. But then I look into your beautiful blue eyes and I’m not scared anymore, because I know when I have you, I can do anything.” You told him with tears in your eyes. He was almost crying too; he took you into a bone crushing hug. You guys stayed like that for while just swaying to the music softly playing the background.

 He finally pulled away you. Looking into his eyes you could tell he had cried a little. When he spoke, it was a whisper even though you were the only two out there. “I love you too Y/N. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t want anyone else.” He kissed you with all the passion he had in him. You kissed him back with just as much emotion. “Okay, but I want to elope because I can’t plan another party.” You tell him after pulling apart. He laughed looking at you, “Deal.”

TAG:  angelreyesgirl100

[imagining-in-the-margins]

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

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

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.”

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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 |

[chicgeekgirl89]

Late

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

A/N: Thanks as always to @bluenet13 for beta reading!

Read on AO3

T.K. was late. It wasn’t uncommon for one of them to be running late; when you worked as a civil servant the end of the day was determined by when the work was done, not what the clock on the wall said. Dating someone who understood that was rare, a gift. They understood and forgave the tardiness without malice.

He’d texted, telling Carlos to go ahead and get a drink and order an appetizer if he wanted. But Carlos waited, anxious to see his date (boyfriend? booty call? friend with benefits?). It had been a long day and he’d been looking forward to this evening since T.K. had texted and asked him about it two days ago. That was a step forward, T.K. asking him out instead of the other way around. It had to mean…something, right? Maybe? 

Oh god, his sister, Francesca, had been right when she told him he was hopelessly gone on this guy. Her actual comment had included a few more swear words and a surprising amount of sexual innuendo, even for his sister, but the message was the same: He was in love with a guy who liked him back. And he was doing a pretty terrible job of figuring the relationship out.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” T.K. slid into the seat across from him, interrupting the gymnastics of his mental anxiety.

“No worries,” Carlos said, offering up a smile. “I got you a sparkling water and ordered a cheese plate.”

“Great, that’s great,” T.K. said, fidgeting in his chair like he couldn’t get comfortable.

Carlos hadn’t known T.K. for long, but the man read like an open book. He could tell something wasn’t right. “Everything okay?” he asked as T.K. picked up the menu and flipped it over without reading it before setting it back down again.

“What? Yeah, yes, yes everything’s fine,” he said, picking the menu back up again.

Carlos studied him, feeling his leg bounce up and down under the table. “You sure? You seem on edge. Rough day at work?”

T.K. set the menu down again and schooled his face into what Carlos assumed he thought was a neutrally pleasant expression, but was really a smile that strained around the edges. “No, I’m good. Sorry. So, what are you thinking about? The filet? Or actually the salmon looks really good. With the lemon sauce?”

Carlos let T.K. chatter his way through dinner about inane subjects such as the different types of hose nozzles, his Dad’s medicinal tea collection, and how to properly hail a taxi in New York. Carlos hmmed and nodded in all the right places, all the while mentally going through a list of possible reasons for T.K.’s uneasiness. A difficult shift seemed most likely, but T.K. had denied that. Could something have happened to someone he knew in New York? Or was there…was there someone else? He knew about T.K.’s recent horrendous break up, but was it possible that whoever he’d left behind had come calling? It happened more often than not, a quick rebound and then back to the previous relationship, he’d seen it time and and time again.

His heart squeezed a little bit at the thought and he mentally shook himself. T.K. had given him no indication that things between them were off, he shouldn’t assume and possibly fabricate a problem for himself that didn’t exist. 

They finished their meal, declining desert and coffee, and headed for the parking lot. “So,” Carlos finally said, his first word in quite a while. “Did you want to come over or…?”

“Yeah,” T.K. said far too brightly in the fakest possible way. 

T.K. seemed to have run out of bizarre facts and mundane topics to talk about because he was quiet on the drive back to Carlos’, seemingly lost in whatever was going on in his head, fingers absently playing with his phone, turning it over and over in his hands.

He didn’t even move when they stopped in the driveway, eyes staring straight ahead out the windshield. “T.K.,” Carlos said softly.

He startled and cleared his throat. “Hey, sorry.” He flashed another fake smile and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Carlos’ lips, quickly trying to turn it into more.

Carlos let him for a moment, not pulling back, but not fully giving in either, still trying to get a read on what was going on tonight. The current situation suggested it had nothing to do with them, which was a relief. But something was still wrong.

“Should we take this inside?” T.K. asked a moment later, his hand sliding up Carlos’ thigh, even as the enthusiasm didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Carlos cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure you want to?”

That got T.K.’s full attention and his brow furrowed. “I—yes. Yeah I wanted to come over and be with you.” He leaned over and kissed the tip of Carlos’ nose. “Come on.”

They walked inside and for once Carlos let T.K. take the lead as they landed on the couch, lips locked together, hands in each other’s hair, running up and down each other’s bodies. But it wasn’t fast and hard or even slow and gentle it was just…as if T.K. was going through the motions. And Carlos was not okay with that.

He pulled away, sitting up, putting distance between them. “What’s wrong?” T.K. asked in confusion. “You okay?”

“Are you?”

“What?”

Carlos fixed him with a firm look. “T.K. I want to have sex with you, I do. But I’m a big fan of enthusiastic consent. And right now you’re consenting but…I’m kind of missing the enthusiasm.”

T.K. sighed and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I should have just gone home.”

Carlos felt a pang of sympathy as he watched the weight of whatever T.K. was dealing with settle fully on his shoulders. He reached over and put a hand on T.K.’s knee. “You know, you don’t have to tell me what’s going on if you don’t want to. But if you do, I’m here. Or if you don’t want to talk I can drive you home. No questions asked.”

He could see T.K.’s jaw working, like he was trying to hold back tears. He shook his head silently, misery all over his face and Carlos couldn’t take it any longer. He slid closer so their thighs touched and put his free hand on T.K.’s shoulder. “T.K. what is it?”

The other man sucked in a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. “My dad has cancer.”

Of all the things he’d considered, this had never crossed his mind. It felt like a punch in the gut. And if it felt that way to him, he could only imagine how it felt to T.K. 

“It’s lung cancer,” T.K. continued. “From the towers. And he didn’t tell me. He just moved us across the country like he could run away from it. I thought he made us come here because of me but really, it was because of him. And me. Both of us I guess, I don’t even know anymore.”

T.K. looked so wrung out and exhausted and Carlos’ heart ached, wishing for all the world that he could somehow take his pain away.

“He’s been getting chemo and dealing with this for months now, all on his own because he couldn’t tell me or didn’t want to tell me or didn’t trust me enough to tell me and I feel really REALLY shitty about it,” T.K. said. “Like the worst son in the world for not noticing and not being…okay enough for him to talk to me about it. Because you know that people with a support system have a better chance of beating cancer than people that don’t. And I haven’t been providing that for him. I’ve just been dealing with my own shit again.” 

His intake of breath was shaky, words continuing to pour out of him. “And I told him that I wasn’t scared, that I knew he was going to be all right, but I think that was a lie. Because right now I’m terrified. I’m terrified that I’m going to lose him. And I promised myself I would never lie to him again after what happened in New York but how could I say anything else? He needs me to be strong but,” T.K. finally looked up and met Carlos’ eyes, “I’m not very good at being strong. As evidenced by the addiction and relapses.” 

He shook his head again and ran an agitated hand over his face. “And I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this. I’m sorry, it’s been a long day and I kind of can’t stop thinking about it and it all just kind of…spilled out.”

Carlos squeezed his knee. “Well, they do call me “The Confessor” at the precinct. Bad guys take one look at me and give up all their secrets.”

T.K. raised his eyebrows. “They do?”

“No, T.K. it’s a joke.” He winced slightly. “Maybe not the right time for a joke. Sorry.”

T.K. snorted. “No it’s…thanks. I needed that.” He exhaled slowly. “I think I needed all of that. I don’t uh, I don’t have many people I can talk to about stuff like this. So thanks for letting me unload on you. Again.”

“You can talk to me anytime,” Carlos said. “I mean it. And if you need help with your dad, anything at all, I’m glad to do that too. I can drive to appointments, pick things up, make phone calls, or just be a shoulder to cry on.”

T.K. gave him a soft, smile, the first genuine one of the night, and cupped his cheek. “You are so sweet. You know that?”

“I think you’ve mentioned it once or twice,” Carlos told him. “I’m not just saying it; I’m serious T.K. Anything you need, anything at all.”

He couldn’t fix this, couldn’t tell T.K. that it would all be all right in the end, couldn’t give him the assurances he longed for, but he could offer his presence and support.

“I know,” T.K. said, and he seemed to genuinely believe it. “Thank you.”

Carlos leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering for just a moment before pressing their foreheads together. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

T.K. nodded against him and didn’t pull back. “Do you mind if we don’t…I just don’t think I…”

“How about we watch a movie?” Carlos suggested. “I’ll make some popcorn, we can relax. Decompress a little bit.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” T.K. asked.

Carlos smiled. “Believe it or not I like being with you even when we’re not having sex. And I am very capable of going without for a night or two.”

“But not three?” T.K. asked as Carlos got up and moved to the kitchen.

Carlos gave a fake wince. “That would be pushing it. I might have to find another hot shot firefighter from New York to hook up with.”

“You get a lot of those in Austin?”

“Oh they’re a dime a dozen around here,” Carlos said with a teasing grin as he started the microwave. “Walk down the street and you’re bound to run into at least a few. Although, I don’t think all of them have such a passion for hose nozzles.”

Now T.K. winced for real. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m anxious.”

“I noticed. It’s okay. And next time I’m at a scene and someone asks me for a hose nozzle, I will definitely be able to help. In fact, I think I’ll add that to my resumé. Hose Nozzle Expert.”

“Oh god,” T.K. rolled his eyes. “I’m a terrible date.”

Carlos returned with the popcorn. “Well I’ll guess we’ll just have to go on another one. Give you a chance to make it up to me.”

“Friday?” T.K. asked.

“I have a shift starting mid-morning.”

“Breakfast then?”

Carlos handed him the popcorn bowl. “Breakfast it is. Now,” he settled back into the couch and pulled T.K. toward him until they were cuddled together. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

[9tzuyu]

children of tragedy [pt.2]

note: hi. i totally did not mean for this to be a filler chapter but thats what it ended up being :(. i hope you guys still like it though. this is mostly natasha x reader (platonic), so maybe that’ll make up for it? lmk your thoughts!

mistakes are mine as always.

warnings: talk of alcohol abuse

pt. 1 | pt.3

🏷 @peggycarter-steverogers @blackxwidowsxwife (tagged since its nat centric)

when you left in the middle of the night while wanda slept in the other room. you didn’t bother waking her to say your goodbyes, instead wanting things to be quick and simple. telling wanda goodbye would only prolong that process. 

you did, however, leave one last sticky note on the kitchen table for her to see when she woke up. it was nothing over the top, just a reminder to make sure she ate and took care of herself.

(and of course your signature smiley face at the bottom of the paper. she loved your odd little version of a smiley face.)

you packed a bag separate from everything wanda put together and stuffed it to the brim with bare necessities. clothes were replaceable. what you had with wanda was not. besides, she probably wouldn’t mind keeping a few of your sweatshirts. they were always her favorite.

rummaging in the side pockets of your jacket you found the last twenty dollar bill you had and used it to catch the next bus across town. 

in all honesty you would’ve texted natasha to tell her you were on your way, but your phone had been dead for three days and you didn’t bother charging it after last night’s conversation. natasha wouldn’t mind though, you’ve been friends with her for over seventeen years. she was the only person who knew about your upbringing and all the abusive relationships between. she’d been there countless times to pick you up from the hospital your exes put you in, never once blaming you for what happened.

similarly to wanda, natasha never judged you for your decisions or ways of coping. she worried just as much as wanda did, but knowing you hated having to talk about things she kept silent. there were only a handful of times natasha could think of where you talked to her about what happened.

with a deep breath in, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and stepped off the bus. the walk to natasha’s house from your drop off area was only about fifteen minutes, but within that short amount of time you managed to get worked up over wanda. your thoughts were so loud that by the time you made it to natasha’s door step you had tears streaming down your face, your nose red from wiping it with the sleeve of your jacket. 

natasha was quick to answer, but she hadn’t expected you of all people to be standing right in front of her. snapping herself out of shock, she pulled you in for a hug before moving back to check you for any signs of bruising. 

there were a few, but they were fading nicely against your skin. and the cuts she found looked like they had been treated with care, which only confused the redhead. she hadn’t heard from you in over eight months, so it wasn’t surprising that she missed out on hearing about wanda. 

what a shame, you thought to yourself. she would’ve loved her.

natasha closed the door behind you and brought you over to her sofa. you laughed remembering that you were in this very same position last night; although it wasn’t like natasha could break up with you or anything of the sort. 

“stay here, i’ll be right back.”

you glanced at the clock on natasha’s wall seeing that it was three in the morning.

it was only when natasha came back when you noticed her disheveled hair and chapped lips. it was clear she was sleeping prior to you knocking on her door. she immediately noticed the guilty look on your face and quickly went to stop you from overthinking.

“none of that now, i don’t care at all that you woke me up at three in the morning. i haven’t seen you in over eight months, i’d be angry with myself if i hadn’t heard you knocking.” unsure how to reply, you nodded solemnly. 

she smiled, “are you hungry?” you licked your lips, food hadn’t crossed your mind in hours. “very.”

you followed her to the kitchen where she brought out a can of soup and set it to cook on the stove. 

“i don’t have much, i keep forgetting to go to the store.” she shrugged, leaning against the counter top.

“s’okay.” 

you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, arms folded as you stared off into space. natasha took this opportunity to really get a look at you.

she could see the outlining of a bruise on the side of your cheek, and judging by the size, you had to have taken a pretty bad hit. there were also a few bruises around your neck as if someone had tried to choke you. 

she bit her lip, wincing internally at the thought of you getting choked so violently that it left marks as dark as the nail polish natasha once used as a teenager. it hurt her even worse knowing that this person was supposed to love you. 

you caught natasha’s gaze and shifted yourself further away from her. she tried not to frown, but you saw the slight downward movement of her eyebrows before she had a chance to look unbothered. 

“the soup, tasha. it’s going to burn.” you reminded her. 

“ah!”

she stirred the liquid content with a spoon and brought it to her mouth. “just right.” you watched her pour a safe amount into a bowl before giving you a spoon she hadn’t wrapped her lips around.

“lets go sit down so you can eat, yeah?” 

you followed her like a lost little kid back into the living room. if it hadn’t been for such serious issues at hand, natasha would’ve commented on how adorable you looked clutching the bowl with two hands while you unconsciously bit the insides of your cheeks because you were scared of breaking something. 

she gave you time to finish eating. you ate slower than she remembered, but she didn’t think too much of it. the last bite was when natasha when noticed the large scar across your hand. 

(god did she hate herself for not seeing it sooner because what the hell?) 

you moved to go put the dish in the sink, but natasha stopped you, gently grabbing the scarred hand to keep you from leaving. 

“don’t worry about that right now. set it on the coffee table and i’‘ll take care of it when we’re done here.” her voice was soft enough for you to feel safe, an affect only one other person could do. 

natasha didn’t say anything else, she wanted you to feel in control, to feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

the crack of your knuckles could be heard after a few short seconds of silence. there was no reason for you to feel so nervous. it was just natasha after all. she would never hurt you.

(you were brave. you were okay. you can do this.)

“she was so good to me, nat.” the redhead scoffed, but you were quick to defend your now presumed ex. 

“she was! this time i really mean it, and i know that sounds redundant but i would put the love i have for you as a friend, as a sister, on the line.” she seemed to believe you after that. the look in your eyes told her everything she needed to know. 

“what happened?”

your lip started to quiver, “i ruined it.” natasha moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around you so that your body rest against hers. “how’s that?” 

“i can’t stop drinking, couldn’t, and she had to do the right thing for herself.” her grip tightened around your frame. she hated not knowing you were drinking again. the first few times weren’t too bad, but she had a feeling this time was more than she could help with.

“she was so good to me, tasha and i ruined it. i fucking ruined every bit of it because i’m too weak to-”

“stop. do not finish that sentence or else i’m going to give you a sisterly lecture for the next three hours about every good thing that makes you who you are.” her threat came off as a joke, but if needed, natasha would actually hold herself to her own word.

you sighed and visibly deflated, natasha allowing the tiniest smile grace her lips from behind you. 

“what was her name?” your eyes found their way to natasha’s hands and the rings that clung to the base of her fingers. “wanda.”

“how did she treat you? i mean really treat you.”

you fiddled with her rings, twisting them back and forth absentmindedly, “she used to bandage my wounds with like, five layers of gauze, i swear. i always thought she was just being over dramatic, but sometimes the bleeding would even seep through that.” 

your breathing began to slow down. “she would always come when i needed her, whether that be when i blacked out from drinking or if i was sick and needed help taking a bath.”

“she sounds like a good person.”

“she is.” 

natasha hummed, “you really scared me, you know?” you moved to try and face her, but she kept her arm wrapped securely around your torso. “i didn’t hear from you in over half a year and now you’re here. you’re my best friend and i thought you were dead.” there was a crack in her voice. god knows she didn’t want you to see her cry.

(that’s why she held you in place, but most of all because she missed having you close.)

“i’m sorry, tasha...” 

“just don’t ever do that to me again or i will kill you myself.” you rolled your eyes at her reply. “i’m not, i promise.”

you moved off her lap, turning your body so you were face to face with her. “where do i go from here, nat?” 

she thought dor a second, “can you make it through tonight without a drink? or will withdrawls be too bad?”

you paused, surely you hadn’t gotten to the point where withdrawls were as serious as you’d seen in all the medical shows and documentaries. “i think i’ll be good.”

natasha nodded in approval, “do you want help?”

it was the question of the century for you. the answer should be a simple yes, but it never failed to amaze you how much weight could be carried behind a three letter word. there was a chance for you though, something you might not ever get again. and honestly, natasha’s heart couldn’t take another relapse like this. eight months of not knowing if you were alive or not was bad enough, she couldn’t imagine not seeing her dearest friend for the rest of her life.

“yes,” you exasperated, “yes, i wan’t help.”

[buckyownsmylife]

between us - chapter iii

The one where Aaron hurts you, but he knows just how to heal you.

When Hotch comes home one day and takes out his frustrations on you, you’re sent spiraling into a depressive state that you were all too familiarized with. But as your boss and closest friend, he’s the only one who knows how to take care of you during a relapse. His efforts to fix the situation end up awakening a different side of him, a side that might just be precisely what you’ve been missing in a time like that.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. PLEASE CHECK THEM.

Hotch’s P.O.V.

It was already past 4 p.m. when I managed to arrive home and the sight that greeted me, Y/N simply falling asleep in the middle of the kitchen, terrified me to no end. I watched as she fainted in the middle of the room and it felt like the world was coming to a stop as I ran to try to catch her.

The sound of her body falling to the floor and my stuff that I had dropped in my efforts to get to her must have dragged Jack out of his room, because in a minute he was there, watching with big eyes as I slowly rose to my feet with Y/N in my arms. I struggled to open the tap with one hand while still holding her body and threw some water on her face, in an effort to wake her up. It worked, and after a few minutes of carefully shaking her body, she opened her eyes to look at me. 

The relief I felt didn’t last long, as I noticed how glassy they were. They couldn’t focus on me, but she still tried to push herself away and stand on her own two feet, while shaking her head to wake herself up. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she quickly repeated, but before I could interrupt her and argue that she was anything but okay, Jack’s soft voice resonated through the room.

“Y/N, are you sick?” He asked, and it was clear by how his bottom lip trembled that he was terrified of what he was seeing. Frowning, I turned her around to look at her face and what stared back at me shook my very core. 

There were black circles under her eyes, so dark that it looked like she had been punched. Her skin was almost transparent, and I could see her veins struggling to pump her blood. I felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dropped over me as I quickly recounted the steps her former superior had taught me about what to look for when she was in a state like that.

Moving quickly, I dragged her to the couch, where I also asked Jack to sit while I called his aunt, asking her to take him for the night. After everything was settled with Jessica, I got up to his room and packed his overnight bag, not really stopping to think about what I was doing. I was back in the living room just in time to talk to him before his aunt arrived.

“You’re gonna stay with Aunt Jessica tonight, okay, buddy?” Jack looked at me with tearful eyes that had been hiding on Y/N’s chest before I returned. 

“Is Y/N going to be okay, dad?” I sighed, knowing I hated to lie to my kid, but it was what I needed to do at that moment.

“Of course, buddy. Now kiss her goodnight, I think I hear your aunt pulling into the driveway.” He did precisely that, hugging her tight before reminding her that they’d see each other again tomorrow. She nodded, her own eyes filled with tears as she kissed his forehead before letting him go. 

I accompanied him outside, making sure that he got inside the car before going back to the living room, where Y/N was no longer in sight. I shouted for her name while making my way to the second floor of the house, my feet already taking me where I knew I’d find her. “Open the door, Y/N.” I shouted, knocking on her bathroom’s door. No one answered, but I knew she was there. “C’mon, open the door, Y/N.” Still nothing.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I moved inside the bathroom, absolutely terrified, trying to come up with a plan that would divert his anger from me once more. I wouldn’t survive being in the receiving end of another screaming match. I barely did the last time. Outside, I could still hear his fists against the wooden door.

“I swear to God, Y/N, I will tear this door down if you don’t open it right now,” he screamed. That woke me up from the paralyzing state I was in and I quickly opened it to find a hauntingly beautiful Hotchner looking down at me. His chest heaved as he stared me down, surprise written all over his features, like he didn’t believe I would actually answer his pleas. There was also fear in there, almost like he was scared of what he would see once I opened the door, but as much as I looked for it, there was no anger. He forcefully made his way inside the bathroom, closing the door as he looked around for something. Not finding anything, he focused his attention back on me and before I could realize what was going on, he was pulling up the dress I was wearing and leaving me only in my undergarments.

“Hotch?” I asked, trembling in fear of what the hell was going on. He must have realized it, because quickly he looked up at me, his eyes begging me for something I couldn’t understand. I nodded once before dropping the hands I had used in an effort to try and cover myself, relaxing as I allowed him to take in my semi-nude body. He didn’t even glance at my breasts, not throwing me a single look of desire, instead crouching in front of me as he softly ran his fingers on my thighs.

I tried to control the tremors that traveled my body as desire rose through me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched me with such care. However, his touch quickly left my thighs to focus on my stomach instead, and just as he had done before, he carefully ran his fingers through the faded scars there. My breath hitched as I realized that he was looking for fresh cuts.

I had flashbacks of nights long ago, when someone else would do the same for me. I had no doubt he had taught Aaron about how to deal with me whenever I got like this. But still, he hadn’t looked at me like that. No one had ever looked at me like that, like they were terrified of losing me.

As the man in front of me realized I didn’t have new cuts, he finally got up, towering over me with unreadable eyes that could swallow me whole. “You didn’t…” He started, but didn’t finish. I shook my head, looking up at him tentatively. 

“Not since I joined the team,” I explained. “You accepted me so easily, despite the weight that I could possibly put on you, that I decided that very first day I wouldn’t do anything that could make your job any more difficult than it already is.” My voice was barely over a whisper, but I knew that he could hear me. We were tightly pressed together in the tiny bathroom. He held my hands firmly in his as he shook his head and I watched in amazement as tears rolled down his eyes. “And then you introduced me to Jack.” I stopped for a bit, trying to gather my breath. He seemed like he was holding his, his attention never wavering as his eyes stared deep into mine. “I loved having the possibility of helping to shape his incredible mind.”

Hotch’s P.O.V.

I was all but trembling as I tried to control the sobs I wanted to let out as she continued to explain herself. “I loved how he reminded me of innocence and pure happiness and I loved being able to be a kid for the few hours I was with him. So I started coming here to stay with him whenever I felt the urge to hurt myself. Because it distracted me. And it reminded me of who I wished to be for him. The example I wanted to set. And it was not of someone who hurt herself.”

By the end of her speech I was full-on crying, like I didn’t remember doing ever since Haley died. I pulled her to me as I fell on the bathroom’s floor, using her to ground myself while I tried to calm down. Fuck. What the fuck had I done to this girl? She was nothing less than an angel, sent from heaven itself to remind me what it felt like to love someone so much that it blinded you, and still, I managed to hurt her.

I felt her fingers running through my short hair as I finally started to calm my breathing. I absentmindedly remembered she was practically naked on my lap, but still that didn’t faze me. Not if she was comfortable in my arms, because I felt comfortable with her in them.

I raised my head to look at her and found her beautiful eyes looking at me with such wonder that it took my breath away again. I didn’t stop to think as I leaned to connect her lips to mine, reveling in the tiny gasp of surprise she let out. Still, she didn’t stop me. Instead, I felt her melt against me, tiny mewls escaping her lips as my tongue slowly made its way inside her mouth.

She tasted like mint and strawberries and I was already addicted.

It took every single bit of control I had to disconnect myself from her lips, trying to gather my thoughts before calling her attention to me. “Y/N,” I whispered her name and she cautiously met my eyes, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. I leaned down once more only to free it through my own bite, before looking her in the eyes again. 

“Y/N,” I repeated, and the amount of fear I found in her stare reminded me of what I needed to do in that moment. “Baby girl…” at the pet name, she seemed to relax, even if just for a bit. She adjusted herself on my lap, hiding her face in the crook of my neck, and I hugged her to me, not knowing how to approach the subject. 

“I’m sorry,” I finally let out, caressing the skin on her back with my open palms, trying to scare away every goosebump that the cold raised in its touch. “I’m so, so sorry,” I repeated, knowing that I would never be able to actually apologize for what I had said. But I’d be a fool if I didn’t spend the rest of my life trying. “I can’t even begin to explain how wrong I was in every single thing I told you that day, but I had a crappy day, and it was the anniversary of Haley’s death and…”

She pushed away from me and shut my mouth with her tiny hands. “Stop, Aaron,” she pleaded. “I know you’re sorry. I knew what was going on. That’s why I came here in the first place. I wanted to be here for you, in any way you needed. And I may have overstepped some boundaries, I mean, God knows how much time I spend here, but next time, when you need to be alone, just ask me to leave. I promise I won’t be hurt or angry. I promise.”

Shaking my head and bringing her to rest her face on my shoulder again, I tried once more. “No, honey, you didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted you to be here. God, how I wanted you to be here. You have no idea how much happiness you bring me everytime I come home to find you here with Jack, and I’m sure he agrees with me.” I gulped, gathering strength to say what I was frankly ashamed to admit.

“I hope you won’t hate me too much for this, but the truth is that your presence had started to hurt me, because it reminded me of how much I wanted you, but couldn’t have you. Every time I see you, I’m reminded of our kiss. I’m reminded of how much I want to kiss you again.” My hand gently pulled her to look at me and I found my gaze trapped in those luscious lips that had been glued to mine just seconds before. I let my thumb play with her bottom one before continuing. “That’s not even true. I want to do so much more with you, to you. I want to kiss you all over. I want to make sure you never know a bad day in your life, which, considering what we do for a living, is laughable, even. And it just serves to cause me even more stress. Because all I want to do is protect you, Y/N.” She opened her mouth to speak, then, but I cut her off with a shake of my head. “No, just let me finish. Please. I need to say this.”

She closed her mouth, albeit she still looked like she wanted to intervene, turn my thoughts into a lighter shade, like she always did to everyone around her just by being her. I took a deep breath before continuing. “I know that I can’t. As much as I want to, I can’t be around you all the time and I can’t promise to keep the darkness away from you, not even the one inside of your own mind. But, what I’ve come to realize is…” She was crying too, by now, and I couldn’t stop myself from wiping her tears with as much delicacy as I possibly could. “... Is that I can try. And if I allow myself to just try, even if I come to fail, I will save both you and me from this pain that I am causing myself, forcing us apart from each other.” She looked down, avoiding my eyes at this, and I knew that I was right.

I sighed, pulling her to kiss her forehead before connecting hers to mine.

“I’m done, trying to resist you, Y/N Y/L/N. I am yours, body and soul and mental problems that you’re probably all too familiarised with.” That made her release a choked up laugh, which in turn made me smile. God, this woman had my heart. “I love you, Y/N,” I finally finished, itching to touch her, pull her to me, but knowing I had to give her the space to say what was on her mind now, too. 

She was looking at me with a smile that could probably melt the whole of Alaska. Giggling, she pulled me by the collar of my shirt to press her lips on mine again. “I love you too, Aaron Hotchner.”

The feeling that overcame me at hearing these words was something I very rarely had the pleasure of visiting, so I allowed myself to close my eyes, pull her to me once more and just enjoy the beauty of the moment. A few more tears were shed, this time of happiness, and I let myself peck her delicious lips a few more times before finding the strengths to push us out of the floor. 

“You should… You should probably put on some clothes,” I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck at her giggles. She quickly located her dress and pulled it over her head before turning back to me, adjusting her hair. 

“Do I look okay now?” I shook my head.

“You never look okay. You always look beautiful,” I explained, leaning down to kiss her one last time. She smiled sweetly up at me, warming my heart to her yet again. 

“It’s weird how I don’t find it weird to see this side of you,” she stated, already leaving the bathroom, with me hot in her tails.

“What do you mean?” I had a slight idea of what she was referring to, but I wanted to be sure.

“This.” She stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, turning around to stare up at me again. “This version of you. When you allow your sweetness to be seen, your caring side to be felt. At work, anyone who spends enough time with you catches glimpses of it, but I don’t think anyone has truly seen you when you don’t try to hide it anymore.” She was right. I could have laughed, taken by surprise, but the truth was that it wasn’t that unexpected. She really had a way of reading people - that’s what made her such a precious arrival to the team. 

But it was like her abilities were enhanced when it came to me.

“I like this side of you,” she continued as she finally stepped into the kitchen, almost as if she was babbling without really noticing what she was doing. “But I also like the side of you that takes control of any crime scene we step into. Since that’s the one I’m most used with, I wasn’t expecting to be automatically so accustomed to the other one.” 

I couldn’t help but to smile, happy to know she liked both sides of me. “You weren’t?” I asked, approaching her from behind as she perused my counters, pulling her by her hips to collide against me again.

“I… wasn’t,” she admitted, turning her neck to try and meet my eyes. 

It was like I couldn’t control myself anymore. In a second, I had turned her around, hoisting her up on my kitchen counter, our lips connecting once again. That kiss was different from the other ones we had shared until now. 

I was taken away by the pit of fire that had suddenly been lit inside of me, and I needed her, my oxygen, to keep it alive. My lips were eager, kissing her to the point of bruising, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she responded just in kind.

I felt her tongue beg for entrance on my lips and I surprised myself by the wantful moan that resonated from my chest. That only seemed to spur her on, and I felt her press her entire body against me, her legs coming up from behind to hold her against my body.

I welcomed the intrusion into my mouth, shivering as I realized she tasted like peppermint and home. It made its way inside of me until all I wanted was to drown in her warmth, and so I found myself pulling her even closer, like I wanted both of our bodies to become one.

I did.

But then, I felt her against me. Unconsciously or not, she had started to grind her lower body into what I had to admit to have turned into an almost completely hard length. Startled, I pulled away, carefully settling her back to the floor and keeping her away from me by my hands on her shoulders as I tried to recover my breath. 

When I finally felt like I could look at her again and not burst at the sight, I found her looking up at me with a pout in her beautifully plump, red lips. Thankfully, she didn’t look hurt, although I could definitely see disappointment in her features.

Chuckling, I leaned down to deposit a sweet but quick kiss on her lips, still maintaining her at an arm's length. “I don’t want to do it like this. Not when you’re still recovering. I don’t want the memory of our first time to be tainted by the battle you’re still going through,” I explained, softly caressing her cheekbone, making sure she understood what I was saying. Her eyes softened at my words, and she granted me a nod. “Now, let’s go get some food in you.”

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (17) || atz

San looks over your hands gently, turning them over in his. His fingers trace the scrapes your fall on the cobbles have left behind, and he shakes his head in disapproval.

Then he lets your hands rest on the table of the sickbay and picks up a clean cloth with tweezers, soaking it in rum before wiping your hands down with it, removing any small pieces and blood still remaining on them. Your palms sting, but it’s nothing compared to the anguish in your heart.

“What happened?” San murmurs softly as he works on your wound. You remember Seonghwa had mentioned that San was a better healer of the heart than he was of any physical ailment, but the thought of Seonghwa’s once cheerful, smiling face twists at your chest and lungs like a poisonous vine.

The lump in your throat refuses to go away.

“I don’t know.” You reply in all due honesty. Truly, till now you still don’t understand what had happened to the gentle, kind-hearted cook, but you can only piece together what you have guessed from the incident earlier.

Seonghwa was afraid of the gallows.

Yunho has taught you that the brightest smiles can hide the most bitter tears, but you’ve never expected that the man who’d first treated you with such kindness has suffered so much.

San continues staring at you for a while. Then he finally puts down the cloth and whispers to you in a soft, secretive tone.

“Hey, look at this.”

You frown in confusion, but San places a single finger on your torn skin. Closing his eyes, you see his brows furrow in concentration before a tingling feeling starts to blossom across your hand from where San’s fingertip touches yours, warmth chasing the slight sting in your hand away. You feel as if you’ve dunked your hand in a warm bath, the heat emanating from San’s finger too real to be a mere figment of your imagination.

Then it happens.

Fascination washes over you as you stare at your hand in wonderment. The bleeding slows gradually and finally stills, before you watch the skin and damaged tissue steadily knitting itself back together like a spider’s web. In the end, the entire wound closes, leaving the skin of your palm a soft baby pink.

Your mouth falls open.

“Master, did you just-”

“I’ll be teaching you this over the next few days. Remember, don’t ever attempt this without me. It’s potentially fatal if you don’t know how to do it. Do your best to learn it fast.” San’s smile is a little sad, a little forced. Your initial excitement fades at your master’s clear unease. “I get the feeling we might need it.”

Your fingers brush the silver hairpin tucked securely in your belt for good luck. You don’t like the sound of that.

You know what your master is implying, that there will be much conflict happening soon. But you don’t like to admit that it may be coming already. You and your master sit in momentary silence, both preparing yourselves for what may be to come.

“Sanie, Chin Hae.” The two of you turn to the person who’s come knocking on the sickbay’s door. It’s Wooyoung, purple hair rumpled, rouge smeared on his clavicle and dark circles under his eyes from yesterday, but the unusually grim expression on his handsome face shows he isn’t exactly reminiscing happily about night before. “Captain wants to see us in his cabin, now.”

His tone gives no room for argument.

“Got it.” San rises to his feet, his expression neutral. You only know that there’s unease flickering in his eyes from the way his shoulders are tensed. Since you and Mingi have returned from desperately searching the town for Seonghwa, you’ve found out from Wooyoung, who’s just arrived himself with Yeosang, that Seonghwa had dashed up the gangplank in tears, all alone and ignoring the concerned shouts of his crewmates, before locking himself up in the kitchen galley by himself.

Ever since then, Hongjoong and Yeosang, as the most level headed of the lot, have been discussing what to do about this in the captain’s cabin, instructing for no one to enter while the meeting is still underway. Seonghwa might be only one person, but he means a great deal to many of the crew on board and for the whole afternoon, there has been a gloomy air settling over the ship, the deck unnaturally quiet and subdued.

Your mind has been filled with worry for the cook the entire afternoon, but then San brought you down to the sickbay to get away from the stress of it all. The initial concern and panic has worn off a little, but you can still your anxiety lingering at the back of your mind like an itch that can’t be scratched.

“Is Seonghwa-hyung okay?” You ask feebly, gripping the silver hairpin tight as the three of you make your way to the captain’s cabin beneath the quarterdeck. Wooyoung shrugs, mouth drawn into a thin, concerned line.

“I don’t know. Yunho’s with him to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, but...” His voice trails off as you stop outside the captain’s cabin. Wooyoung raps sharply on the door and you hear the captain call ‘come in’ from inside.

San pushes the door open and the three of you crowd into the room. Captain is sitting at the desk, massaging his temples with his fingers as he indicates for Mingi to lock the door behind you three. His blonde hair is falling out of its usual mullet, mussed and uncombed, as if he hasn’t had the time to do anything else this morning. You sit on the bed, sandwiched between Wooyoung and San, while Yeosang and Mingi stand around, looking equally tense and uncomfortable.

All three of them have dark rings around their eyes and grim, troubled looks on their faces. You can’t believe it was barely a night before that you had been drinking together, celebrating your integration into the crew, but this is your present now.

“Chin Hae.” Captain Hongjoong addresses you first and you snap to attention, back straightening as you look at your captain. His face is lined and etched with worry, so painfully obvious you almost wonder if Captain can actually feel Seonghwa’s internal agony and turmoil. “Can you tell us what happened today morning after Mingi left the two of you alone?”

You nod hesitantly. It only happened this morning, so the memory is still fresh in your mind, but the image of Seonghwa’s grief stricken face, how alone the two of you were and worst of all, your inability to do anything, weighs on your mind almost crushingly.

“Mingi-hyung, Seonghwa-hyung and I were shopping in the marketplace for herbs when someone bumped into me and snatched the herbs.” You begin, recalling the event to your mind. “Mingi-hyung said to go around to the town square to cut the thief off, so we did, but then when we reached the town square Seonghwa-hyung saw the hanging and suddenly started panicking and I didn’t know what to do and-”

Wooyoung’s hand is on your shoulder before you even realise that your breathing has started to turn irregular. “Breathe, Chin Hae.” His voice is as commanding as steel, yet as soft as velvet. San nods at you empathetically, rubbing circles into your back as you try to keep your breathing steady.

“I ran over as soon as I heard the bells, but I was too late.” Mingi says grimly, shaking his head, eyes downcast as if he personally blames himself for this happening. “I could have been there. I should have been there.”

Silence.

“I should have known what to do.” You murmur under your breath, a lump forming in your throat. There’s something lingering deep in your chest, you realise. It hurts more than empathy, eats you away from the inside more painfully that jealousy.

Guilt.

“None of this was your fault.” Yeosang says quietly, his voice almost cracking, but he speaks it like it’s a fact and not merely his opinion. “Especially not yours, Mingi.”

“It’s my job!” Mingi almost snarls, a glassiness to his eyes that makes you feel like crying from shame. The two of you were there, you should have protected Seonghwa, kept him safe. “That’s why you assigned me to follow Seonghwa-hyung around whenever we’re in town to keep this from happening, and look what I just did! I left his side for some goddamn cordyceps! As if this could buy back Seonghwa-hyung’s peace of mind!”

He throws the bag of herbs to the ground.

You don’t even realise you’re shaking from barely restrained sobs until San wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a side embrace. He doesn’t speak, knowing no amount of words can change your mind about your failure at this point, but instead giving you the physical comfort you need.

“Mingi, keep your cool. You’re scaring Chin Hae.” Captain’s voice is cold and detached, leaving no room for disobedience. Wooyoung nods in agreement. The captain continues speaking. “And regarding Seonghwa’s problem, Yeosang and I have been discussing whether to do something or not.  A plan, if you will.”

Mingi echoes your thoughts. “Plan?”

The navigator nods, a little jittery but face set in determination. “We’re sailing to Nassau.”

The word means nothing to you, but you can feel Wooyoung and San stiffen. Mingi gapes at his captain, as if he didn’t hear him right the first time.

“What?”

“We’re sailing back to Nassau. We’re going to find the person that got Seonghwa’s family hanged on false charges, and if Seonghwa so wishes, I’m sending him to hell.” Hongjoong elaborates, a little more clearly but his voice as sharp as the edge of his cutlass. “That’s the closure Seonghwa needs.”

The person that got Seonghwa’s family hanged on false charges.

“What if we sail back and Seonghwa-hyung has a relapse just like last time?” Wooyoung interjects nervously, foot tapping impatiently on the floor. But San shakes his head.

“He’s gotten stronger. It’s been six years, after all.”

“How do you know?” Mingi spits back, but your master replies without a trace of doubt in his voice.

“Ever since Chin Hae joined us, he made the choice to sleep below in the main hold instead of in the sick bay in my room.” Your eyes fly open, you’ve just remembered that your bed, the one you sleep in now, used to belong to Seonghwa. You open your mouth to apologise, but you master continues speaking. “He said he didn’t want to rely on my sleeping incense anymore, and that he needs to face his fears. Chin Hae coming was just a catalyst for him to take that first step.”

Your heart clenches in your chest. This whole time, you had no idea…

“I believe that he’s growing stronger.” Yeosang states, nodding his head. “In the past, Seonghwa-hyung wouldn’t sleep without that steak stuffed toy San gave him, but when Chin Hae came, he told me to lock it in strongbox because he was going to be in the hammocks and wouldn’t need it anymore.”

Part of you is honestly struck dumb. The entire time you’d been on ship, Seonghwa-hyung had been trying to turn his life around, and you had no idea at all.

“So there’s that, Mingi and Wooyoung.” Hongjoong ends off the debate smoothly, fixing the pair with piercing stares. “Are you ready to accept the plan now?”

Wooyoung simply sighs while Mingi nods reluctantly in agreement. Then you pipe up nervously.

“Captain…”

Immediately, everyone in the room turns to look at you, and you wish you’d just kept your fat mouth closed. But since everyone’s expectant eyes are already on you, you simply continue to speak your mind.

“Can I… talk to Seonghwa-hyung?”

To your surprise, the captain doesn’t question your request, simply rising to his feet. “It’s no problem at all. I was intending on talking to him myself. Come with me.”

San gives your hand a squeeze and a worried look. Do you want me to come with you?

You shake your head, squeezing it back as you stand up and follow your captain out of the cabin. The two of you walk in silence down to the galley.

“I’m sorry this had to happen the day after you got your name.” He says softly, and you turn to look at your captain. His cheeks are slightly sunken, mouth turned downwards in a worried frown. You’ve never seen your captain so worried, so concerned.

You wonder if he’d do the same for you.

“It’s fine.” You reply quietly, shaking your head as you climb down the stairs to the galley. “Seonghwa-hyung is more important to me than any celebration.”

When the two of you reach the bottom of the stairs, you see Yunho pacing in front of the kitchen door like a caged tiger. He sees you, and your heart almost breaks when you see the lookout’s face drawn with exhaustion and worry.

“Captain. Chin Hae.” He sounds spent, both physically and emotionally, but he straightens up while blinking the weariness from his eyes. “Do you need me for something?”

“Go take a nap, Yunho, you look like you need it.” Captain pats the lookout on the back, but Yunho shakes his head desperately, as if trying to clear his mind.

“But I need to be here.” His protest is weak and worn, like he’s about to keel over any second. The captain shakes his head.

“Chin Hae and I will be here. Don’t worry.” He reassures the taller man and all at once you see Yunho’s shoulders sag from the relief.

“Oh.” Yunho tries hard not to sound too relieved, but he can’t help the yawn that spills from his mouth. “Thanks, cap’n.”

With that, he stumbles past the two of you and staggers up the stairs, out of sight.

“Seonghwa-hyung?” You move to the door, rapping hesitantly on the wood. It’s the first time you’ve ever been denied entry to the kitchens and in your mind’s eye, you see all the happy times the two of you have had together in the galley, the first time he taught you to use a knife, the incident in which you’d nearly burned the kitchen down, the time you’d mastered cooking Seonghwa’s favourite grilled steak. “It’s Chin Hae.”

It’s silent for a moment and you turn to glance at your captain in a panic.

“Hey, Chin Hae.” Finally, you hear Seonghwa’s voice from behind the door, raw from tears and soft with vulnerability. Relief washes over you and you bow your head to hide your tears. “I’m sorry for making you worry about me, Hongjoong-ah.”

“Shut up.” The captain suddenly snaps, his own voice thick. “Don’t ever apologise for worrying me. I want you to tell me all your problems, burden me with everything, share life with me and the crew. We’re a family.”

There’s a soft inhale from behind the door as you slide to sit next to it. “Did we at least get the cordyceps back, Chin Hae?”

You snort through your tears. “Yeah, but Mingi-hyung threw them on the floor earlier.”

A weak chuckle. “Well, we’ll just buy more then. I’ll have to scold that Mingi for wasting all that… They were expensive.”

“Are you okay, Seonghwa-hyung?” You sniff, wiping your tears with your sleeve. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes… I am.” His voice is right there, at the door. “Chin Hae… can I… tell you about Ha Rin?”

Ha Rin.

Captain stiffens next to you, and you glance at him in confusion.

“Of course.” You tell him, trying to stop your nose from running, sitting up a little straighter even though he can’t see you. “I’d be honoured.”

“She was my younger sister.” His voice is soft, lost, far away, reminiscent of the time Jongho and Yunho had been telling you about their pasts. “I lived with her, my parents and my younger brother Hyunjung in Nassau. We ran an eatery by the harbour. Those were some of the happiest days of my life.”

The way he says it, with such yearning, makes jealousy clench around you. You have nothing to look back so fondly on.

“One day, I was at the harbor when one of my friends called me to the town square.”

Something sinks in your chest. You know where this is going.

“The town officials accused my parents of harboring pirates and sentenced my entire family to death at the gallows. And I did nothing but watch as my family were hung before my eyes.”

You recognise the emotion spilling from him, gnawing away at him from within. It’s an immense guilt, all consuming as a tidal wave.

Captain exhales next to you heavily, but he doesn’t look surprised at all by the news. Then you remember Seonghwa-hyung has been a member of the crew for six years now, of course Seonghwa would trust his captain with his past.

“Ha Rin was only nine. Hyunjung was eleven. I was supposed to take care of them, I was supposed to protect them.” He laughs but it sounds brittle and self deprecating, the weight of his failure settling on his shoulders. “And yet… I was the only one who survived.”

You don’t know what to say. Your fingers reach under the door, seeking his warmth on instinct.

There’s a pause.

Then his fingers intertwine with yours, gripping them tight. “I thought I could atone for my failure by taking care of the members on board the ship, but it seem that I’m failing in even that too. I still hear their voices, calling for me to join them every time I close my eyes. Maybe the gods are punishing me for my sins.”

You want to cry, scream, protest that he’s wrong, that he’s the first person who treated you with kindness even when you were tied to the mast, that the crew loved and needed him, but the captain beats you to it.

“You are not failing, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong growls, pressing his forehead against the door, voice raw with emotion. “Every single person on this ship needs you, you hear me? That includes me. Who else is going to cook us food if you’re not there? The whole ship will starve to death.”

It seems like such a small, petty thing to talk about, but Seonghwa manages a small laugh at that. “San was always interested in cooking.”

“Hell no.” The captain wears a fond, sad smile on his face. “We should just leave him to healing. Honestly, I don’t know how we trust him with our injuries. We need you, Seonghwa.”

You nod in agreement although he can’t see and Hongjoong continues to speak. “We’re sailing for Nassau, and we’re going to find the man who got your family hanged. Will you… will you do this with us?”

Seonghwa is silent for a minute. Just when you start to wonder if Hongjoong had asked too much of him, he replies softly.

“You know I’d follow you anywhere… Captain.”

[emilemily]

Sometimes I get a little concerned with my sobriety. I call it sobriety, but it isn’t accurate to do so. I smoke pot, I drink kratom tea, and sometimes I smoke pot and drink kratom tea. And with my gabapentin it’s a nice mix.

But today I cleaned my apartment for 7 hours. I try to skip my adderall on the weekends, but I had a lot of shit to do so I took that, had my kratom tea, and I went to fucking town. It’s beautiful now, spotless, laundry almost done (to be finished tomorrow)

But while I was cleaning, I’d see the first aid alcohol in my cabinet and have to talk myself out of drinking it. This happened like 5 times and it was a scary thought. I don’t want to drink it and I don’t think I will, but it’s the fact that my brain goes there. When will it stop?

I’ve been so good. My thoughts have stayed positive. I have made huge progress professionally. I think my concern is rooted in the fact that if I relapsed, I would lose it all. It would all be for nothing. I elected to get great health insurance just in case I need to go back to rehab.

Do I intent to use it? I don’t want to, and that is not on the plan. But they told us in treatment that it’s always good to have a plan in place to stop the spiraling once it starts. To get right back into treatment when you use or drink again.

I always hid how bad my drinking had gotten. I was so good at being drunk under the radar that even if I was 6 shots deeps, my family couldn’t tell. My sister told me the other day that she remembers during my last hurrah a couple days before rehab, she counted 18 shots over the course of a few hours and I still seemed just buzzed.

It’s ridiculous because I was so out of control, yet able to control my appearance. I never had control aside from work, never ever drank at work. But I would sit at my desk and make promises to myself that I wouldn’t drink that night. Always did anyway. Drank every single night for god knows how long.

What I’m scared of, is just one moment of weakness. One night where everything falls to shit, I fight with someone I care about, my mind falls into the pit of despair and I can’t take it, etc

All it would take would be one irresistible temptation, and my routine would be shattered. I’d be back to making deals with myself, lying, covering it all up. Being unreliable and aloof. Terrifies me.

I could never limit myself, I could never have just one. I wanted many, and as fast as I could have them. Wanted the escape, wanted to be numb and I wanted it right then. Couldn’t stand the reality, didn’t want to accept it. Pushed away anyone who could really help me and just obliterated everything good in my life.

Looking back, it was an experience sad 3 years. Sad years full of sad shit and some sad fucking people. I never wanna go back.

Just have to stay strong and continue resisting. Although if I ever do relapse, you better believe I will be taking a couple of extra days to really just go balls to the wall. Another source of fear.

The nagging desire I get often to just lose control, relapse, get the drugs, just say fuck it to all of it. Part of me misses being that girl blacked out, snorting coke and running around the city with my friends. I felt so free and like I could fuck up everything and be fine because I could transport myself to another world that way.

I’m babbling. What I’m saying is I’m confident in my sobriety, but I also am concerned for my sobriety, but I also want to get fucked up in the worst way

It’s all fucking jumbled and contradicting and I just need to go to bed. Nothing good comes from 1 am on nights like these.

Goodnight.

[snootsnoot-fiction]

Cookie Dough

Characters: Mark Renton x reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Mention of drug relapse and overdose, and a little bit of smut. Otherwise fluffyflufffluff.

A/n: Recently been made aware it's the 25th anniversary of the Trainspotting film and suddenly felt like using it as an excuse to write a Renton fic in celebration (I mean, I really like the 5x tables too). I ended up channelling some of my fluffy needs into this

Summary: You and your boyfriend start the weekend by baking together...

It had been a fun few months. Quite the rollercoaster actually. Scary at times, but ultimately fun and providing you an experience you'll never forget.

You went to Scotland for a well deserved extended holiday. A holiday you intended to be as stress-free as possible. 

Your family was quite well off. Not tremendously, but enough for people to assume you were a little too privileged growing up. They didn't know what it was like behind closed doors. 

You were the black sheep in a strict family. That combined with virtually everyone else around you either despising or using you for money, you quickly came to realise your only true friend was loneliness. Over your teenage years especially, a bunch of bad habits were tried out, but none of them ever really helped. 

Finally having enough, you just left. You didn't leave any sort of explanation, it's not like they would care, right? Even though your family were only known within certain circles and the city you grew up in, you decided to cut off a lot of your long locks to help people to not recognise you. It was time for you to attempt to live a normal life away from the people that controlled your life prior. 

In your casual clothing and shorter hair, you had made your way to Scotland - a place your parents never seemed to like. Within the first week, you met a couple girls that ended up bringing you to a group night out with their boyfriends and mates.

~~~

There was a brief introduction. You looked at each man in turn; Spud, Sick boy, Tommy, Begbie, and Rents. They all gave you very different vibes, but you didn't have time to think over them before suddenly Begbie jumped right into telling a story a little too passionately. Not that you were paying much attention. 

The way Mark had looked at you earlier caught your attention. The both of you occasionally looked at Begbie to show you were listening, but you kept looking at each other. The more it happened, the more you wished you were sitting right next to him. Something about the man just drew you to him.

Eventually, after biting your lip during direct eye contact, you made the excuse you needed the toilet and that you'd get another round of drinks on the way back. You acted as though you were desperate to go to help make them think you'd be a short while.

Not too long after you reached the bathroom door, Renton appeared. You made sure the coast was clear enough before the both of you snuck into one of the cubicles. The second the door was locked, the man's large hands were on your face as he pressed a hungry kiss on your lips.

Next thing you knew, one of his hands was gripping your backside tightly, using it to grind into you particularly hard. The feel of his own excitement grinding roughly against you had you hot and desperate. It was you that started the action of getting rid of pants. After that, you had the best few minutes of your life.

You felt amazing and a million times lighter when you left that cubicle and went to go buy that round of drinks for everyone.

~~~

Of course, you ended up spending a lot of time with them while in the country. Growing especially close with Mark Renton. While the meeting between the two of you was dirty in every sense of the word, that sexual tension wasn't on your mind as much as you expected it to be as you got to know the guy. 

You brought each other so much joy, it wasn't long before you realised you were actually falling for him. The pair of you ended up dating. Taking your time, but not too long, you also entered an official relationship. 

The only thing you did want to take your time with was admitting how you truly felt. You couldn't quite explain it, but you wanted to wait until the right moment to say it. Both of you had been through a lot, and those were some serious words. 

The first heartbreak you felt was when Mark relapsed. It felt like you hadn't been quite enough even though you knew these things happened sometimes. 

Throughout it all, though, you stuck with him. Supported him. Renton was aware of just how lucky he was, and he had to fight the urge every day to tell you he loved you, in fear of scaring you off. He felt lucky enough to have you with him still, even after relapsing, and he tried hard to make sure you knew he appreciated that. 

It was when he overdosed that you experienced your biggest heartbreak yet. To almost have lost him hurt you in a way you never had hurt before. When his parents told you they were going to make him quit cold turkey, you agreed with it. You hated to think of the suffering he would go through, but you knew this might be the only way lest he not wake up next time. 

Deciding it was maybe time to try make a start on your own life, you moved down to London, leaving a message with Mark's parents about where you were going in hopes he'd follow suit when he managed to get clean again. 

That's exactly what he did.

Now, you and Mark each had your own comfy apartments and jobs in London. The pressure of your old lives behind you. Naturally it took a little while to get over how things had been left, but you were soon right back where you were before - bringing nothing but pure joy to one another. 

Both of you happened to have the weekend off, so you had decided to spend it at your place. Your week had been particularly stressful, so you felt awful to begin with when you got home on Friday evening. 

Your boyfriend called, quickly saying he was going to be a little longer, but not explaining why. There was already a spare change of clothes for him at your place, so you couldn't help but wonder why he didn't tell you what he was doing.

It wasn't long before there was a knock at your door. Getting up with a sigh, you answered. Only to be greeted immediately by Mark grabbing your face and giving you a quick kiss before wrapping his arms tightly around you like he hadn't seen you in over a month. Your heart and body melted into him.

"I've missed you." He mumbled against your ear.

"We saw each other a couple days ago." Your words muffled against his chest, although you missed him too. Pulling away, the man held your shoulders as he looked at you in forced disbelief.

"Are you saying I'm not allowed to miss you?" He raised a brow. "No." He added with a finger to your lips when he saw you readying to respond. You both knew he wasn't serious. Letting go, he picked up a small bag of stuff off the floor and you closed the door after letting him in.

"What's in the bag?" You questioned as you followed him to the kitchen area. Renton didn't answer straight away as he took one item out at a time. You walked up to see ingredients to what you could only assume would be cookies. "Are you going to make cookies?" You questioned further. Mark turned to face you.

"We're going to make cookies."

"We're going to bake together?" You couldn't help the excited gasp. Baking together was always something you wanted to do with him. It was Mark Renton, so you figured it would be extra fun.

"We are." He, himself, couldn't help his excited smile at seeing how excited you were at the idea. You had seemed down when you opened the door, but that had apparently evaporated. 

Before you could say anything else, he turned around and pulled the last item out of the bag - an apron. Another gasp left you. You had one apron yourself, but seeing he had bought one himself only made the following events that much more exciting. 

The man threw his jacket and shirt off, allowing you a glimpse of his chest before he threw his apron on. Then all of a sudden your own apron was thrown at you, bringing you back to reality. Pulling it over your head, you saw your boyfriend smirking at you before moving to stand behind you and tie your apron. 

With Renton having no idea what to actually do, you took charge. It was when it got the cracking of the eggs that things really started to get fun.

Watching closely to make sure no shell fell into the bowl, you were completely unprepared for what happened once the eggs were in. Suddenly his sticky yolk fingers were on your cheeks and before you could react, he placed a kiss on your lips, chuckling at the stunned look on your face.

"Earth to Y/N, hello?" He teased after a moment, bringing you back to said Earth.

"...You got egg on my face!"

"Is there a problem?" Despite trying hard to keep a straight face, there was a small smile peeking through. You dipped your fingers - clean of course - lightly into the egg before simply wiping them on his face. 

"Not at all." You said, succeeding in keeping a straight face for now as you sorted the ingredients. Mark stared with a mix of confusion and excitement before helping again. Tonight was going to be fun. 

Before long, all the ingredients had been mixed together, and the both of you found yourselves looking down at the cookie dough thinking the exact same thing.

It was you who acted first. You acted as casual as possible as you dipped a single finger in to scoop a little out.

"Wanna try some?" You used the question as a guise, carefully lifting your finger up near his lips. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shrugged and kept it open for your finger. Smiling, you wiped the cookie dough on your finger all over his nose. 

Mark looked genuinely shocked for a moment as you giggled. Almost like a deer in headlights. After a moment, you unable to stop giggling, he started laughing too. 

"I love you!" The words fell out by themselves from his mouth. Now you were the deer in headlights. Your heart pounded and there were butterflies in your stomach. Realising what he had said, your boyfriend stopped laughing and looked around to avoid your shocked look. Then he looked at the bowl of cookie dough. 

Not bothering to hide his intentions, he dipped a finger in to swipe some himself. It took you a second to come back to reality as you saw what he was doing. 

"Wait! N-" You went silent as he smeared it, not only on your nose, but on your entire face. Now it was his turn to laugh as you processed everything that just happened, but suddenly you started to laugh as well.

"I love you too!" You laughed as you smeared the cookie dough from his nose all over his face. 

Neither of you really knew how to react, so you simply dissolved into fits of laughter until you could contain it enough to actually put the dough on a tray then in the oven. You and Mark Renton were smiling blissfully the entire time. 

A new kind of weight had been lifted from your shoulders, and you were completely, absolutely, and undeniably in love.

[forgotten-daydreamer]

Haikyuu sick/hurt characters headcanons: Karasuno edition!

⚠️ sickness, injuries, phobias, allergies and correlated symptoms ahead. If these themes upset you, proceed with caution. If you use these, credit me, please. ⚠️

Sawamura Daichi:

He doesn't let anyone know when he's sick. He'll show up to practise with a fever of 39°C and say that he's fine if someone points out how warm he is ("It's just overextertion. If you're not warm, it means you haven't been exercising well!")

He doesn't actually believe that he's fine, he knows his limits, but he just doesn't want to alarm anyone.

Luckily, he always manages to hold on until he reaches the bathroom if he's feeling pukey.

When he does get sick, he's very quiet and discreet. He always tries to go back to what he was doing before, insisting that he's okay.

When he's sick or hurt, the other third-years can see through his "I'm okay!" act (remember that time he hit his head and insisted that he was fine to play?), and know how miserable he really feels, so they force him to take it easyー he's no match for Suga, who will use mild violence if that's what it takes to make Daichi give up and rest.

Sugawara Kōshi:

He's anemic, cue to his constantly cold hands (and feet). Because of this, he takes iron pillsー or he should, because he forgets more often than not.

When he forgets the pills, he gets dizzy and weak, and needs to sit down for a bit. Once, he passed out due to anemia during practise, and he doesn't want to repeat that ever again, so he's extra cautious.

It's easy to understand when he's feverish, because he gets unexpectedly sleepy and quiet. He will fall asleep in class without even realising it if his temperature's any higher than 37,5°C.

He rarely gets hurt, but when that happens nobody's sure if he's okay or not. It's not that he denies it, but he simply doesn't say anything ("why didn't you say anything sooner!?" "B-because you didn't ask..?")

Once, he twisted his ankle and walked on it for a little less than thirty minutes before actually asking the coach if he could go get himself some ice. Of course, they didn't send him to get the icepack, but he had to sit there and listen as Coach Ukai yelled at him for not speaking up sooner.

Azumane Asahi:

He gets anxiety-induced stomach aches very often, and that's why he's used to feeling dizzy and to puking. Vomit doesn't scare him anymore.

Whenever he's sick, he runs away from the others; he needs to flee, far away. He loves his teammates, but he's scared that they'll accidentally overwhelm him further, and he doesn't want them to feel guilty.

This man can't stand the sight of blood. Like, at all, not even a little. Not even in movies. When Shimizu got a shallow paper cut, the Coach actually had to physically support him when getting him seated on a bench.

He broke his left index finger when he was a first-year, and as soon as he saw the bone sticking out of the skin (it looked worse than what it really was) he fell backwards and on a very concerned Sugawara without a word.

Cue to lots of tears and puke on the way to the hospital. He was inconsolable, but when Daichi had the idea to hide the injury from his eyes, Asahi managed to calm down a bit. In every situation, it's not the injury that scares him, but the blood.

Nishinoya Yuu:

He's reckless, he won't even notice when he gets injured. Since he's so used to bruises, bumps and shallow cuts, he doesn't understand when he's actually injured.

This guy played a whole set with a sprained wrist before realising that "hey, this feels kinda weird..?" and he didn't tell anyone until the end of the game, when his wrist was visibly swollen.

High pain tolerance plays a major role when he's injured or sick. Still, the others wish he would have a more average pain tolerance, because, once, Nishinoya felt sick during math class, and still claimed he was fine. He thought he was.

When he was rushed to the hospital due to a "mild ache in his lower stomach" that had been going on for two days after the math class incident, along with a 38,7°C fever, he was told that he had appendicitis ("I thought I just ate something bad or that I needed to take a huge dump! How was I supposed to know!? I thought I was fine."). It was clear that he wasn't, in fact, fine.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke:

He will try to toughen everything out and ignore the pain until it gets unbearable. Be it an injury or some sickness, he will automatically ignore it if he doesn't think it's serious enough to be life-threatening.

That's why he almost died when he ate one of the peanut butter cookies that Yachi had baked. Turns out, allergies do existー but he wished he'd found out in a different way. Sometimes, "My throat's kinda itchy. Does my tongue look... too big? It... it feels too big." can be synonym of "Hospital, now." Bless Takeda-sensei.

The time when he collided with Daichi, Tanaka completely ignored the fact that his arm hurt, and only realised when he took his shirt off in the locker-room and heard a screech from Yamaguchi. The bruise went from his shoulder to his elbow, blue and swollen. Cue to lots of pain relief cream and ice packs.

Ennoshita Chikara:

He never broke a bone in his whole life, but he's very good at dealing with it when it happens to someone else. He's just fascinated by how the human body works, and sometimes people think he's being cold in front of someone else's pain, when he's really just being logical.

He's good at dealing with his own pain too, though he rarely gets hurt or sick.

When he gets sick, he recovers pretty rapidly, but this leads him into relapse. That's why he's not allowed back to practise for a whole week after he recovers ("I'm fine. I've been fine for three days already, my fever wasn't even that high..." "Last time you said you were fine, you almost got pneumonia. Go home.").

He gets bad allergies during spring, and takes a lot of antihistamine pills which make him sleepy. He often has to excuse himself from class to go take a nap in the infirmaryー the teachers and the nurse know, so they always allow him to.

Narita Kazuhito:

This man is the embodiment of health. His diet and lifestyle will probably allow him to live until past the age of 100.

That's why he's not used to getting sick. And when he does, he's a confused mess with no idea of what to do with himself.

When he puked on himself after practise he was so shocked that he chuckled nervously and stood still, frozen, until Kinoshita and Ennoshita dragged him to the bathroom. He almost found the whole ordeal funny.

Kinoshita Hisashi:

He really despises vegetables and fruit, and often gets mocked because of it. He often stuffs himself with sweets and fried food until he feels sick ("But... how? That cake had strawberries in it! It's supposed to be healthy!").

He gets very bad seasickness. Once, his friends decided to drag him to Miyajima: he spent the time on the ferry and first hour on the island puking his guts out.

The thing he doesn't do good with is fainting: if someone passes out in front of him, he does the same, always. When Daichi passed out in the middle of the court, Kinoshita was thankful that Narita was there to hold him up, because he was ready to leave the land of the living.

Kageyama Tobio:

Always denies everything ("my nose is not bleeding!!") and this only makes everything worse for him. If he feels shaky, he won't take a clue and sit down; instead, he'll push himself and end up falling down on whoever's closest to him ("Daichi-san, nice receive!" "Now's really not the time, Hinata...").

When he gets sick, he gets sick hard. The flu has him puking all day long, with a fever of 39.5°C that, he insists, is not that high. His family and friends are smart enough to understand that he's lying. Not even the doctors and nurses at the E.R. can convince him that he's sick.

To be fair, he does not lie when he says that he's not hurt or sick: he genuinely thinks that whatever's going on with him is normal and not that bad.

He accidentally tripped on the leg of a desk in class, and fell face first into the teachers'. The deep, bleeding cut on his forehead wasn't enough for him to understand that he needed to go to the infirmary, and he just sat back at his desk, apologising for the mess. Turns out that his "little cut" needed six stitches in the end, and that his "mild headache" was, in fact, a mild concussion. He showed up to practise the following day anyway, and the Coach had to physically prevent him from joining.

He doesn't do good with nausea, though; he doesn't mind fevers, joint-pains, blood, bruises, or the act of throwing up itself. But when he feels nauseous he actively wishes to pass out, because anything is better than dealing with feeling like that. That's why he'd rather stick his fingers down his throat to get rid of the nausea already than waiting for it to pass naturally.

This got worse when he started suffering from migraines. As soon as he feels one starting to build behind his eye, he throws himself over the toilet, waiting for the dreaded nausea to come so that he can get rid of it before it gets too bad. He stays like that for hours if that's what it takes.

Hinata Shōyō:

He pukes a lot, and for a number of reasons: nervousness, motion sickness, fear, hungerー this guy can't even take it to the bathroom.

His guts are a mess, and he either vomits or poops every time he feels any strong emotion (which is...pretty often, for him). Thank goodness his friends always have pills that help with motion sickness with them, along with antiacid pills and sparkling water, and that Kiyoko and Yachi often restock the bus and everyone's backpacks with paper bags.

The higher the fever, the more he moves. Ever since he was a kid, a fever has never stopped him, and to be fair, fevers make him feel more motivated and energetic. He takes "Hey, no. Sit down, drink up, and rest." as an insult because "I'm fine. You're benching me because you think I suck, huh!? But I was doing fine! I- I was being good, right..?"

Yes, fevers make him emotional. He'll cry for anything once they make him admit that he's sick. He mostly cries because "How could I get sick? I'm going to be useless! I should've paid more attention, I should've been better!" but Kageyama knows for sure that he saw a feverish Hinata crying over a picture of his sister, for some reason.

He doesn't mind blood when he's the one to be bleeding, but if it's someone else, he freaks out. Seeing someone else having a bloody nose or bleeding from some injury, even small and insignificant, makes his stomach flip.

Tsukishima Kei:

He's never said "I'm in pain." in his whole life. The most honest statement he managed to grit out was "It kinda hurts.", but he never said anything more than that. He won't show himself being so vulnerable, ever.

Whenever he has to go to the optometrist, he won't eat anything for at least half a day before the appointment, because he knows for sure that he's going to throw up after the doctor dilatates his pupils.

He's a quiet puker, and he always locks himself up in the bathroom, which can be dangerous in those situations. After that time when he passed out after throwing up, his mother got an extra key of the bathroom, and always lingers close to the door when she knows that her son's about to be sick.

If anyone tries to interrupt him when he throws up or when he's in acute pain, he will yell at them. It's not that he doesn't appreciate the help, but he hates how everything feels so crowded around him when he's down. The only person who's brave enough to help him when he's like that is Yamaguchi, mostly because he's used to hearing his angry words (even if Tsukishima's never insulted him personally).

Yamaguchi Tadashi:

Terribly emetophobic, he won't throw up even if he has to. He just won't do that, no way... Which is cruelly ironic, since he gets sick pretty often due to anxiety and weak immune system. Tsukishima doesn't mind helping him out (but he would never step close to anyone else when they're sick) but he can be a bit rough sometimes; this both reassures and agitates Yamaguchi. "I'll stick my fingers down your throat if you don't throw up now." doesn't sound too kind, but when Tsukishima adds "it'll make you feel better, I promise." Yamaguchi feels a bit calmer. He’s also a loud puker.

He's a type-2 diabetic, though he has it under control and hasn't had any problem related to that in a while, not since the beginning of middle school, at least. Still, sometimes he needs to reluctantly sit practise out because he's obviously too shaky and weak to strain himself that much. When that happens, they all make sure that someone sits with him to make him feel less alone... and he appreciates it immensely.

He's on anxiety meds, but they make him feel dizzy sometimes, which leads him into a spiral of panic for fear that he'll get sick. It's a huge contradiction, really, and he hates it with his whole soul.

He's one of the people in the team who can handle others' sickness and injuries better; it might shock him for a second, but he's ready to jump into action and solve the problem in order to help his friends out.

Injuries don't scare him, though the worst thing that ever happened to him was when he got punched in the face by a bully. He also broke his arm in middleschool once though he doesn't remember muchー maybe it was the shock, or maybe it was that it hurt less than he imagined. The punch freaked him out more than that.

Yachi Hitoka

She's a good caretaker, but an absolute mess when it comes to taking care of her own injuries and sickness.

She's clumsy so she's not new to bruises and cuts, but this doesn't mean that she doesn't freak out a bit whenever she sees blood on her legs or arms. On their way home from school, one day, Hinata and Yamaguchi decided to get her band-aids with little chicks and kittens on them. She finished the 30-pack in less than a month.

She got her period a bit late in life, a couple of months before turning 15, and whenever she's on her period, it hits her like a train at full-speed in the guts. Kiyoko taught her some yoga moves that help with the cramps, and the boys never bother the two of them when they see them doing yoga in the corner of the gym. In fact, they also bought her an electric heating pad for her birthday along with an indecent amount of chocolate that didn't fit in Yachi's bag (and various other presents not concerning periods).

Shimizu Kiyoko:

The scars on her legs are fully healed, yet the skin there is thinner, and so the wounds reopen whenever she accidentally hurts herself there. They sting quite a bit, and though it's unusual, she hisses out loud when it's bad. Everyone agreed to make sure that medkit is always equipped with antiseptic cream. To this day, Kiyoko insists that it isn't necessary, but they disagree.

She always knows what to do when someone else feels sick, but she's unsure about what she'd do in case of her own sickness. She hasn't been sick in too long to know.

She hasn't gotten a cold since elementary school, and that one time when she thought she'd caught something, when she sneezed at the age of 16, it was actually just a bit of dust allergy. She doesn't even need meds for it.

Takeda Ittetsu:

He hardly gets sick, but he ends up hunched over the toilet more often than not after a Friday night out with his friends. He drinks quite a bit for a teacher, but only when he knows that he can do that without compromising his career or setting the wrong example. Hangovers also leave him a messy wreck, and that's why he only drinks on Fridays: that way, he has until Sunday night to recover.

For someone who's constantly surrounded by teenagers, he doesn't get sick much. He catches a cold every now and then, but nothing more serious than that. And when he's sick, he always tries to prevent the others from catching what he's got, without actually taking care of himself to heal.

Once, he got a fever of 40,1°C and luckily for him Ukai was coming over to discuss about the volleyball club; he found Takeda sprawled face-down in front of the open door. He was boiling, so Ukai took him to the hospital where he stayed for two days. ("I didn't think it was this bad." "So you knew you had a fever and still went to work?" "Yeah, but I had a mask on so that the others could be safe." "And you didn't buy medicine in the meantime?" "Ah, no." "...what the hell!?").

Ukai Keishin:

He catches a cold every other month, no matter how many layers of clothes he wears. These colds are often accompanied by low fevers, but he's used to those so he simply chugs some orange juice and moves on.

He tried to quit smoking countless times, especially since he started coaching these kids, but he can't help smoking at least three of cigs per day. Still, sometimes his chest aches a bit, and maybe it's just paranoia, but when that happens he doesn't touch tobacco for a couple of days.

His liver would even be able to survive Takeda's nights out; his guts, in general, are strong and he swears he's never felt nauseous in his whole life.

💫 I might think of more sick karasuno hc soon, but that's it for now. Expect more characters hc soon! Again, credit me if you use these, and please feel free to share this post! 💫

[sssn-neptune-vasilias]

RWBY vs Comic

Alright, I said I was gonna do this back when the comic first started getting published but I got so frustrated reading it that I couldn’t actually keep up with it enough go through with it. I think I stopped around issue 4 because that was when I just got angry and threw my comic back into the plastic. I figure now’s as good a time as any since I’m actually rereading it now. My whole issue with the RWBY DC comics is that they’re super canon divergent but somehow still canon material. It’s so frustrating that this is the case because we’re supposed to take into account things that happen in the comic as gospel- things like Adam revealing he’d always been genocidal, Bumbleby’s bottlecap, Weiss’ zoo animal arc, etc, but a lot of these different story arcs don’t make sense in our current canon. So I’m gonna talk about them because why not.

 Issue #1:

The first issue actually isn’t that bad- mostly because it’s just an intro to the series- but there are still some huge inconsistencies between the comic and official canon.

These two panels are a fucking mess.

1) Ruby was passed out when she was delivered to Patch by Qrow. She’d just used her Silver Eyed Warrior powers for the first time, hurt Cinder, frozen the dragon, and passed out. We were literally forced to listen as Qrow carried Ruby out of the rubble and back home, because she was unconscious. But the comic has her just arriving back home all on her own. “I came back to my dad’s house.” No you didn’t, you literally woke up in your bed after what must’ve been days of being unconscious.

2) We know Blake didn’t get to Menagerie on a little wooden boat. We all watched the episode. It was a decent sized ship with multiple crew members, dozens of passengers, and literal armaments designed to destroy Grimm. Sun can’t hide in a robe for 3+ days on this boat. This boat wouldn’t have survived a Grimm attack in the first place. Idk why they decided to draw this boat instead of just drawing the Pride the way it was designed in the first place, but whatever I guess.

RNJR didn’t tell Taiyang they were leaving. Ruby and her team just left. There was a whole scene dedicated to showing the shock and horror on Tai’s face as he saw Ruby’s letter and ran out of the house hoping to catch up to his daughter before she left. Also not as important but still relevant, RNJR left during winter. There was snow on the ground. I don’t see no snow in this panel- that tree looks real green. That last issue is mostly a nitpick- who cares what season they left in tbh. But the fact that they just wrote this panel into the comic despite the fact canon shows Taiyang had no idea of Ruby’s departure- and the fact that Ruby’s departure is actually really important to a bunch of later scenes in this show is really fucking weird.

Issue #2:

I know we know next to nothing about Raven Branwen, but holy fucking shit do I wanna believe this is ridiculously out of character for her. You’re telling me that Raven actually did come visit Yang and Tai and Ruby, but the one time she ever made her presence known to any of them was to berate and terrify Ruby the one time she’d learned anything about Summer?! Like BRO. This is so fucked up! This is too fucked up! This is straight early 90′s level villainy right here. What was even the point behind this?! This scene tells us that she felt so negatively about Summer Rose that she was willing to break her silent cover just to disillusion Ruby for no other reason than to tell her she was weak. Which makes no fucking sense because when we finally meet her during season 5 Raven has nothing bad to say about Summer at all! What did Qrow say to her after they spoke? “Hey sis why the fuck are you flying around your ex’s home scaring his daughter who just lost her mother? You realize you’re talking shit about the woman who raised your child too right?” Like, this is so wildly terrible, that if we’re meant to take this into account, I don’t see how anyone who reads these comics could say anything positive about Raven ever again. This is strike one, two and three for her entire characterization.

Issue #4:

I’ve said it already but fuck this boat.

Not so much an issue with the comic as it is with RoosterTeeth’s sometimes sloppy storytelling, but we really need an exact age on Adam. Is this man a pedophile? We know Blake is about twelve here, meanwhile- besides looking maybe a little scrawnier- Adam looks the same as he did during the show. How old is this kid right here? Fifteen? Seventeen? Was he 20 during the events of volume 1? Was he 25? I really dislike this specific problem RT has created because at no point during canon were we led to believe that Adam was significantly older than Blake or our other characters, but here in the comic we’re getting huge pedo vibes. Idk if this was RoosterTeeth retroactively trying to throw Adam’s character even further into question but... Idk man, RT y’all need to hurry up and carbon date this kid because I’m really not liking this.

I’m not gonna harp on the whole “Adam as a revolutionary vs Adam as a genocidal maniac” issue again. Most of y’all already know where I stand on this and have either made up your minds that either, yes, Adam’s sudden change towards being genocidal after being forcibly conscripted by Cinder doesn’t make much sense, or, no, Adam’s behavior is entirely in line with what little we’d seen of him up to that point in the story. I’m not trying to change anyone’s opinions on this issue, I’ve got about a dozen other posts for that. My issue with these panels specifically is that this is the moment Blake discovers Adam is genocidal. This is the moment Blake realizes that Adam never wanted peace, never wanted coexistence, never wanted what the White Fang actually wanted in the first place. He wanted Faunus supremacy- a goal entirely removed from the White Fang’s goal of equality between Faunus and humans. This is the moment Blake realizes that his ideology is so far from what it is she herself wants. If this is correct, why does Blake never mention this AT ALL when she’s talking about Adam. When the conversation comes up during season 3, she specifically states that Adam’s change was gradual. Not that he’d been hiding who he really was from her but that he’d become a completely different person from the man she’d originally known. I recognize that a lot of people say that this could be explained away as evidence of Blake’s abuse- oftentimes abusers don’t even realize just how monstrous their abusers are, even after they’ve escaped from said abuse. But this is just such a monumentally larger issue than manipulation and abuse. Adam is outright saying that he wants genocide! He’s not trying to hide it, he’s not trying to lie, he’s not trying to manipulate her! He’s telling her explicitly that he wishes he could kill as many humans as possible. But during the Black Trailer she’s still asking Adam about the crew members as if they hadn’t had this conversation hours ago! During season 2 she’s drawing him in her notebook as if she misses him! During season 3 she’s explaining that he’s simply misguided! This is apologia of the umpteenth level that is absolutely inexcusable. If I’m honestly supposed to be made to believe that Blake knew Adam was genocidal from before the events of the Black trailer and season 1 but still had feelings for him... I’m sorry but I’ve lost any and all respect for her entire character. You can’t have feelings for someone who’s genocidal- who you know is genocidal- and expect sympathy. No amount of abuse would forgive someone for having feelings for Hitler.

I recognize the comics aren’t supposed to be a shot for shot recreation of the show, but what the fuck is this panel? The frame of Adam dismembering Yang was such a good, amazing, impactful frame. The black and red framing, the yellow of Yang’s hair and weapons, the red of Adam’s sword. Why would you not even try to recreate that?

Leaving nitpicks for the end, really wish they hadn’t used “sunflower” here. That’s Yang/Ren. But again, the comic is made by people who aren’t in the fndm and don’t interact with the RWBY community at large in the first place, so of course they wouldn’t know.

Issue #5:

Why does Blake seem so ooc here. Like, the fact that she’s trying to make Weiss feel guilty for “cheating” in a “win by any means necessary” free for all match is really??? Weird??? When we know Blake isn’t above using underhanded tricks herself considering what she did to Reese during the tournament and her Semblance in general??? But whatever, that’s mostly a nitpick as well.

Issue #7:

My issue with this story is that it ends with Yang like, wistfully thinking of spending more time with Blake. But this is before she even put the prosthetic on. This is before she even got to talk with Weiss after meeting up with Raven. This is so early on in her healing process that I find it extremely difficult to believe that Yang is fondly remembering any time she spent with Blake. When Ruby talks to her during 3.12, she was angry that Blake had left her! Abandoned her! And then in the conversation she has with Weiss that happens after this event in the comic she’s still frustrated with Blake for leaving. So like... did she suddenly forgive Blake just a few weeks into her recovery and then relapse back into feeling like she’d abandoned her? Wtf is this?

Issue #9:

I know she’s obviously supposed to be drunk here, and we barely got to know her during the short scenes she had, but like... she never struck me as this kind of person. To literally forget how old her daughter is? Like...???? The same woman who was so perceptive she was able to recognize that Whitley was acting out because he’d felt lonely and abandoned by his sisters? Doesn’t know how old one of her children is? This is silly.

This isn’t the same woman we met during season 7. This isn’t the same quick witted woman who immediately directed Weiss to the cameras she’d hidden around the house when it was time to spring the trap on Jacques. This isn’t the same woman who was so honest when she admitted to her own faults just a few short months after this scene supposedly took place. You could argue that the events of this comic are what led Willow to become the person we meet later on, but like... That’s an absolutely ridiculous amount of offscreen growth you’re expecting me to just assume has happened. These aren’t the same people. This is ridiculous.

Issue #12:

This seems so ooc for Sun. Why is he literally begging her to run away and not face a problem when his entire relationship with Blake up to and past this point is him teaching Blake to love herself enough to face her problems head-on in the first place? This is so weird and gross imo because it just feels like they’re warping Sun’s character to make it look like Yang is the only good influence in her life when that’s simply not the case. Every conversation Sun has with Blake from season 1 to season 6 is him telling her that she deserves happiness, love, and to forgive herself. There are multiple songs about this aspect of their relationship! Sun has helped Blake grow just as much as Yang has. Why is Sun taking this approach to manipulate Blake into staying silent about something that’s bothering her? On top of that, Sun’s never been the brightest banana of the bunch anyway, why the FUCK is he smart enough here to recognize that if Blake tells the truth and makes those people feel bad, that they’d draw more Grimm? He’s never been this intuitive before. It really feels like they made him smarter than he normally is just to make him scummier than he’s ever been so that we could feel that Blake’s relationship with Sun is less than her relationship with Yang. Awful writing and characterization from the RWBY DC team here

Issue #13:

This is so wrong and despicable and manipulative and terrible. Again, this isn’t the same woman we met in the show. 

Willow never made excuses for herself or her actions like this. Not once during the entire time she was on screen did she do anything like this. She knew she wasn’t a great mother and she took full responsibility for her actions- and inaction- I don’t know WHY she’s trying to excuse herself here. This is more Cruella De Ville than it is Willow Schnee.

I’m not gonna explain how lumping this “prized menagerie” story with “Faunus slave labor” story together is godawful but just recognize that it’s Black History Month and this plot point they decided to write in is not MLK approved.

Anyway, that’s the whole RWBY DC run. All in all it wasn’t the worst adaptation of an established series, but goddamn. I’d rank this up there with Eragon or Percy Jackson or the end of the Soul Eater anime or something. This is such a slap in the face by people who obviously only ever skimmed through the show for the explicit purpose of writing this series that I’ve read fancomics and fanfiction that handle canon better than this. It’s really frustrating too because this comic run is like, beloved by certain people in the fndm who are only in this for the ships, and people who refuse to see anything wrong with this series ever. The healthy servings of Bumbleby and crumbs of Monochrome and White Rose are apparently enough to make people go “fuck all the inconsistencies, this comic is great.” Cannot express how much these people make me wanna slam my head into a wall. 

I did this just to highlight all the issues I have with the run, but I’m sure other people have other issues with this comic than I do. Have fun in the comments I guess.

[fuzziemutt]

Do You Understand ?

Chapter 8/9 - Link to MasterList in reblog

Summary: One more apology to go...

tw: unhealthy thinking. This one is also much lighter than the previous.

Connor took a deep breath. His coin flicked back and forth, leg bouncing methodically, body thrumming with an added anxious energy he wasn’t expecting to feel. He was just going to talk to Hank, Hank would... understand. Sure the old man got upset when Connor did anything “stupid” (or died) but everything would be fine. 

He was in an automated taxi making its way to the Ambassador Bridge where, on a whim, he messaged Hank he would meet up with him in two hours. The meeting with the leaders was just yesterday and it spurred him to fix things with Hank while he still felt (brave) optimal enough to do so. Nines wasn’t with him this time; he thought of asking him to join, but Connor felt this was too personal and had to do it on his own. He really hoped he didn’t regret this.

Arguably, this really wasn’t a good time to do this. Connor warily glanced out the window for the 50th time, watching the way the snow piled ever higher with the clouds threatening to release more of the terrible substance. Usually he was able to keep his stress levels relatively low, low being closer to 50 than 20 if he was honest, ever since the snow started up again roughly a month ago. However, today’s weather with the meeting from yesterday, the looming anniversary of his second deployment, and now his self assigned meet up with Hank didn’t help how nervous he felt about this all. He should have asked to meet at Hank’s house, but he felt that was crossing an invisible boundary even if he still kept Hank’s house key on him at all times. 

But he had to do this now as he knew he would go back to hiding if he didn’t, so he just kept pushing the fridgid memories down.

Before long, the taxi rolled to a stop, perfectly parked, uncaring of the android who needed another minute of breathing and rapid coin flicks till he climbed out. Hank wasn’t there yet, but Connor pushed down the spike of panic. The roads were still being cleared from the morning snow, it was fine, Hank also was human and couldn’t predict just how long it took to get everywhere. It was going to be fine. He needed to be careful with his stress levels today.

He made his way over to the bench he hasn’t seen in a long time. With that energy still thrumming, he went about pacing, almost jogging to get rid of the excess energy. He was all alone so he didn’t worry too much about being caught and just kept an eye out for that familiar Oldsmobile. The moment he caught its grey color getting closer, he made himself go and sit down on the bench staying as still as possible. He tried to not look too tense and instead inviting, he didn’t want to set Hank off about his internal struggles. This was about them, not about his past after all.

“Was kinda surprised to see your text,” a gruff voice said after the tell tale thunk of a car door closing. It sounded like Hank was trying to lighten the mood with the awkward laugh that followed, but the lack of response made the silence return. 

Hank came into Connor’s view not too long after that, awkward shuffling before he settled on the bench next to him. A bit of space between the two. Connor wasn’t sure where to start. Who should be apologizing here? He felt like he was supposed to be for some reason despite Hank having been the one who hurt him. This was confusing. Maybe he should have asked Nines to come with…

“So.. what’s up?” Hank offered up after a couple minutes. He was clearly uncomfortable if the way he kept glancing at Connor and his hands kept messing with his jacket said anything.

“I… I’m not sure how to go about this.”

“Go about what exactly?”

“This? I want… to fix our relationship.. I miss. I miss our conversations… and Sumo,” Connor ventured very unsure where to go. He added the last bit to lighten the mood, but it was also the truth. He hasn’t seen the dog since he moved out. 

Hank nodded and sat there thinking. He would be better at going about this Connor didn’t doubt.

“I won’t lie. I’m not the best at ‘emotional stuff’ like this, but I can see you’re strugglin’ so…” 

A chin scratch then throat clearing, “I know deviancy hasn’t been the easiest on you especially from what I could tell Cyberlife was like. I don’t know what happened that made you shut us all out for so long though. Would you mind telling me what the hell happened at that meeting before we go any further?” 

Oh. Oh yeah he never told Hank what happened did he? He knew Hank talked to Markus.. He didn’t think Markus would have left it vague. He honestly thought the leader would have laid out all the details for everyone to see. Interesting. He’s just stalling for time now.

“I wasn’t lying about how we were discussing what we would be doing with the androids that react negatively towards humans. I was suggesting that we make safe zones where humans would not be able to enter when North got upset,” Connor felt his hands clench together and nose wrinkle a bit, “She went on saying how I had no place in the conversation as I never supposedly have had bad relations with humans since I was so close to you. She said how I would never be able to.. Understand… their struggles.”

He let himself close his eyes and take a breath before continuing. There was no point in getting himself worked up again here.

“For the past several months, I’ve been treated time and time again like I have no say in anything. As if I never experienced emotions or the extent of cruelty humans can have. The constant use of that word it.. I felt something snap inside of me, and I let out my anger on them. I was too upset from months of frustration to stop myself. Afterwards, in a way I saw to protect myself from that horrible feeling, I shut everyone out.” 

He couldn’t stand to look at Hank anymore, taking up staring at the river instead. The river didn’t have eyes that could hold judgement. Distantly he was a bit surprised he managed to even say all of that so steadily.

“I see. Is that why you uhh.. Moved out of the house so quickly?” 

“Partially…” he caught a hand motioning ‘go on’ in the corner of his visuals. 

“You also did it. Using the word and discounting me. I mean. I wanted to be alone to process what happened and keep myself safe as mentioned, but I.. I didn’t want to do the same thing to you as well. So I left before I made anything worse.”

Connor closed his eyes ready for some sort of reprimand. He wasn’t sure why he expected to get punished when Hank had asked what happened, but he couldn’t help the dread that was sitting in his already anxious internal cavity. 

A muffled ‘fuck’ caught his attention and he opened his eyes again. Glancing over he saw that Hank was rubbing a hand on his face, looking at the ground with some sort of expression Connor couldn’t place. His eyes suddenly glanced up, looking into Connor.

“Look, kid. I’m sorry for what I’ve said,” mentally Connor ticked another mark of hearing the word sorry, “I know I still have my own issues to work through, but I should have watched what I said better. And before you go all ‘you couldn’t have predicted’ or whatever, it’s no excuse. I’m a grown ass man who should have seen how I was hurting you.” 

A sigh and another round of face rubbing. A nervous tick maybe? 

“I’m not going to pull you under the bus either by saying you should have told me you were feeling that way. Because I think we both know that whatever Cyberlife did fucked you up real good, and you never would have said shit as long as you could. So. I fucked up and I can’t guarantee I’ll do better, but I sure as hell will try.” 

Connor let those words settle a bit. He didn’t look as openly sorry as Nines but his eyes spoke more volume. Hank has been there since the revolution. He wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine obviously, he still had bad days and relapses, but he did try. He helped Connor whenever he asked what seemed like obvious questions about emotions and human interactions. He would get Connor’s mind off the past on bad days, awkwardly but still there. 

“I accept your apology. I’m not sure if I can say I can trust you the same amount as before, but I don’t want to push you away anymore.”

Hank’s shoulders slumped in relief a bit and a one sided smile joined it. It didn’t last long as he soon looked around, hesitant about something.

“Would… Would you want to move back in?” 

“No.. not now.. I’m not sure if I ever would like to move back with you, Hank. I miss the feeling of home your house brings me but I.. I’m still scared of getting hurt again. I also enjoy the privacy my apartment brings me.” 

Hank seemed to slump a bit from what he assumed was sad disappointment, but he nodded seriously. 

“I’ll still visit when I get the chance. I wasn’t lying when I said I miss Sumo,” Connor kind of blurted a bit quickly. He didn’t want his friend thinking he was only going to tolerate him at work.

A gruff laugh, “He misses you too, son” and a hand messing up Connor’s gelled hair (which he did not mope about in any sense). 

-

The lingering dread and fear from the snow lasted with him the whole time him and Hank spoke after that. But it wasn’t as overwhelming. Hank didn’t stay much longer, getting up complaining about how he was too old for this shit and needed to get home before his joints shattered which Connor helpfully informed at what temperature that could actually happen. 

Connor did accept the offer for a ride to his apartment. He turned down the offer to see Sumo. He wanted to see the big lump of fur, but he used up a lot of energy trying to keep his stress levels stable all day and wanted to rest by himself for a bit. Hank didn’t take too much offense to it it seems at least.

[shera-dnd]

A Day at a Time - Recovery

After an unreasonably long hiatus and an even more unreasonable amount of rewrites, it is finally fucking done, the final chapter of my modern au glitradora fanfic.

As usual here’s the AO3 link if you’d rather read it there and let us move on with the show

Catra woke up to Melog licking her face, bright and early like he usually did. She groaned and grumbled, still exhausted from the past couple of days, but still gave her boy plenty of pets and kisses. He had pretty much saved her life, after all.

Yesterday still felt hazy to her, like it hadn’t really happened. That had been her lowest point since she started therapy and taking meds. It was like slipping in and out of a dream all day, with barely any energy to even acknowledge how awful she felt, let alone get up and do anything about it. It took Glimmer and Adora showing up to get her to even eat.

“I must have really scared you, huh Melog?” She commented, sitting up on her bed “I’m sorry. Mommy didn’t mean to make you worry.”

The cat splayed himself on top of Catra’s lap, begging for more pets, which Catra happily gave.

“I’m glad things got better too.” She offered him a weak smile. “Thank you for getting them. I don’t know what I would do without you”

Seemingly satisfied with the pets and now full of energy to burn, Melog tried to drag his mom out of bed so they could eat and play.

“Yeah, let’s not dwell on that...” She chuckled at herself a little, before finally getting out of bed.

Using her bathroom and looking in the mirror every morning was always a pain even when she looked her best - fuck gender dysphoria and fuck her beard for coming back all the time - but today it felt extra bad, because she looked like absolute garbage. That’s what crying in bed for several hours does to you.

She sighed, took her meds and washed her face.

Nope, still looked awful. Apparently being accepted and cared for by the people she loved wasn’t enough to cure her deep-seated self image issues. Looks like all those romance novels lied to her. Well, one step at a time.

And the next step was breakfast, so she made herself a nice meal and left some extra tuna for Melog. She had barely sat down to enjoy that meal, when she heard a knock on the door.

“Hey, Catra,” She heard Adora calling from outside. “Are you ready to work out?”

Catra put her food aside and did her best to look annoyed about this. Being interrupted this early in the morning was a pain in the ass, but it was vastly overshadowed by how excited she was that Adora really came back. They said they’d try to spend more time with her now, but she still worried that they were only saying it to make her feel better.

So today was a little harder for her to put on her grumpy act as she opened the door to greet her crush “Hey, Adora.” She grumbled “Not sure if you can tell, but it’s raining outside. How exactly do you plan on jogging like that?”

“I think we’ve had enough cardio for now.” Adora answered “It’s about time we did some weight exercises!”

“Why do I have a feeling I’m gonna hate this?” She groaned.

“Oh we are,” Adora somehow managed to shoot Catra a beaming smile as she said that. “But we’re gonna look hot as hell, so it’s gonna be all worth it!”

Catra did not understand how Adora wasn’t aware of how insanely hot she already was, but she wasn’t gonna say that outloud. Instead she decided to mess with her “Are you saying that I’m not hot as hell already?”

“I- What? No!” That seemed to be enough to short out Adora and deeply amuse Catra “I already…” She lowered her voice considerably. “I already think you’re really hot”

Catra was certainly not expecting that earnest response and it certainly had an effect on her poor heart. “H-hey I was just joking!” She awkwardly replied. “Just come on it. Let me finish my breakfast and then we can start.”

~~~

Catra didn’t know who invented planks, but she hated them with a passion. She wanted to say that she hated Adora too for putting her through that hell for what felt like an hour - it was only a minute - but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to hate her even if she tried.

After this gruelling workout routine, the only thing Catra wanted was to lay down on the yoga mat and maybe pass out for a bit. Unfortunately that request was denied by another person knocking on her door.

“I can get it if you-”

“I’m fine, thanks.'' Catra interrupted, forcing herself up. Fuck, her abs were so sore, but maybe now she would get actual abs. “Hey.” she greeted as she opened the door.

“Hey, Catra I- Oh wow.” Glimmer seemed to freeze for a second as she tried to process Catra and Adora in their workout clothes, covered in sweat.

“That bad, huh?” Catra joked, looking unbearably smug.

“Oh shut up!” Glimmer complained “I wanted to check in on you, but it looks like you’re doing just fine.”

“Oh come on, Sparkles,” Catra smirked, making way for her to enter. “At least stay for a glass of water, you look like you need it.”

“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes as she walked into the apartment, stopping to give Adora a kiss on the cheek on the way in.

Catra tried not to feel bad about that, but it was harder than she’d like to admit. They had said they wanted her to be a part of their relationship and she was happy for that, but it still felt like their affection was always more directed at each other than at her.

Glimmer seemed to notice. She gave Catra a comforting smile, before walking up to her and giving her a matching kiss. Her lips were soft and Catra couldn’t help the awkward smile that formed in her face. Her expression evolved into a full on flustered blush as she noticed that Adora was not only watching, but giving them both the brightest smile she had ever seen.

“What’re you looking at!?” Catra bit back, trying to sound annoyed.

“Nothing...” She replied, with the goofiest smile she could muster.

Catra grumbled a little more, refusing to acknowledge how happy this made her. “Sparkles, your girlfriend is being weird.”

Glimmer chuckled at that “Do you want her to stop?”

No, Catra absolutely did not want her to stop. She couldn’t even begin to describe how much she yearned for their affection. What she also couldn’t do is be honest about that feeling. It took her worst relapse in a long time for her to open up to them yesterday and she certainly didn’t wanna go through that again.

She couldn’t say no, but saying yes would mean that Adora wouldn’t be a big adorable goof around her anymore. So she settled with the only other option she had left, and glared daggers at them both.

Catra couldn’t tell what led her to that conclusion, but Adora seemed to assume that giving her and Glimmer a big sweaty hug was the perfect thing to do in response to that.

“Eww eww eww!” Glimmer complained, struggling to escape her arms. Catra was already sweaty, but still strained to escape the open display of affection.

When they finally managed to break free, Glimmer pointed at the door and ordered “Shower! Now!”

Adora chuckled “Alright alright.” She leaned in to give Glimmer a kiss on the cheek, before she turned to Catra and asked “Mind if I get back here after that?”

Catra didn’t know what to say. She still had a hard time grasping that people might want to spend time with her and that she isn’t just forcing them to endure her presence, and this situation did not help her one bit. Part of her was still afraid that this would crumble to dust in front of her if she made a single mistake.

Still, if this was gonna disappear at any moment, then the least she could do was try to enjoy it while it lasted.

She leaned forward and kissed Adora’s cheek “You better.”

Adora’s goofy smile returned to her in full force as she nearly hopped and skipped her way out of the apartment. Catra couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Wow.” Glimmer started, in a joking tone “That bad?”

“Oh shut up!” She laughed and playfully shoved Glimmer. Only when she recoiled did Catra realize just how sweaty she was.

“Oh no.” Was Sparkles’ only response as Catra shot her evilest grin. She barely had a second to run before Catra came after with her arms spread wide.

“Come on, Sparkles,” Catra laughed as she ran after her. “Don’t you want some affection?”

“No!” She yelled, “No! Eww!” Unfortunately for her, the apartment was small and Catra was far more accustomed to it than she was and soon she was brought into her sweaty embrace “Ugh, I hate you.”

“Aww love you too, Sparkles!” The whole sentence escaped Catra’s mouth before she even processed what she was saying “I mean- I uh-”

Glimmer pulled her into a kiss and softly spoke “I know. I like you too.” Catra hated how easy it was to stun her with simple things like these. “Now let me go before I kick your ass.” She added, playfully.

“Alright alright.” Catra laughed as she let go of her.

“How about you follow Adora’s lead and go take a shower too?” She suggested.

“Wouldn’t it be a bit weird for me to just leave you alone in my apartment while I’m showering?”

“But you aren’t leaving me alone,” She replied, “I have Melog.” As if on cue, he climbed onto the sofa and began staring at the both of them.

Catra rolled her eyes and turned to Melog. “You make sure she behaves while I’m gone.”

He showed no signs of understanding, but her comment still fulfilled its goal of earning a little laugh from Glimmer. That was definitely a sound she could get used to hearing every day.

~~~

By the time she walked out of the shower Adora had already returned. They were both seated on her couch, with Melog doing his best to sprawl onto the both of them for maximum pets and scritches.

“I see you two have made yourselves comfortable.” She commented as she made her way into the room.

“Yeah,” Adora agreed. “Melog made sure we felt very welcome”

“I’m sure he did.” She rolled her eyes as she leaned back against the wall.

In that moment the silence that followed didn’t feel awkward, it felt strangely comfortable. It was like her life was taking a long content sigh at all that had just transpired. Of course this strange and new found peace made Catra immediately suspicious, especially when there was so much uncertainty still in the air.

“So… what now?”

“Well I was thinking I could make you guys some lunch,” Glimmer began. “And then we can maybe binge something on Netflix.”

Catra sighed. “I mean what about us?” she asks, finally admitting her worries. “What are we? What do we do now?”

That seemed to cast the room into a far more uncomfortable silence. Catra couldn’t help but worry that this was that dreaded fuck up that would undo everything.

“I have no idea,” Adora eventually answered, with a shrug. She got up - being careful with Melog as she did - and walked up to Catra “I only just figured how where things stood between me and Glimmer.”

With that Glimmer took her side, arms hooked around her midriff.

“All I know is that I really like the both of you and I wanna be with you two.” She continued, resting one hand on Glimmer’s shoulder and offering her the other. “And we can figure everything else as we go, if you want to.”

She gently took Adora’s hand, just to be yanked forward into a lung crushing hug. A yelp escaped her along with the last of her breath.

“Adora, let her breathe!”

Glimmer’s request only seemed enough for the hug to loosen just enough for her to breathe, while still being extremely tight, and warm, and comforting. It was easy for Catra to, just this once, leave her anxieties aside and lean into this silly little display of affection.

She could do this, she could just be with them and not worry about the future. Just love them and let herself be loved. She knew this wouldn’t fix every problem in her life, but now when those got too much for her to handle, she knew she wouldn’t be doing it alone. Now she had the two of them.

Melog meowed, annoyed that none of that affection was directed at him.

Okay, she had the three of them.

[buckyownsmylife]

between us - chapter iv

The one where Aaron hurts you, but he knows just how to heal you.

When Hotch comes home one day and takes out his frustrations on you, you’re sent spiraling into a depressive state that you were all too familiarized with. But as your boss and closest friend, he’s the only one who knows how to take care of you during a relapse. His efforts to fix the situation end up awakening a different side of him, a side that might just be precisely what you’ve been missing in a time like that.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. PLEASE CHECK THEM.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

In the days that passed, I started to become more and more like myself again. I laughed more frequently, I felt more energetic, and it wasn’t long before Aaron decided I could go back to work. 

Seeing Spencer again was nice, but it was undoubtedly weird to try to pretend nothing different was going on between Hotch and I. I mean, I felt like the team had a solid idea of what was happening between us, especially from how firm he was about taking me to his house when I broke down on the jet, but nothing was confirmed yet and I didn’t want it to. It was nice to have something special blossoming and it felt like it was still so intimate and pure, I didn’t want to learn other people’s views about it.

And yet, as I felt myself climb higher and higher from the well I was buried before, I knew it was only a matter of time until I faltered and fell down a few steps. Recovery was something I was used to by now, so relapse was a fact and I was prepared for it. It just didn’t mean that I wasn’t scared or devastated when the itch to hurt myself resurfaced again. 

It happened while we were away on my first case since returning to the BAU. I was being aloof and I knew it, but I insisted that I was okay enough to go out on the field. I wanted to prove to myself and everyone else that I could do this.

Boy, was I wrong.

Despite the fact that my distracted manner ended up putting Spencer’s life in danger, everything turned out okay and the unsub was caught. However, as we got stuck in our hotel for the night, since the jet wouldn’t be able to fly us back until the morning, all I could think about was how badly I had screwed up.

And the worst part was that no one shouted or even appeared to be angry at me. They were making sure to keep their true feelings hidden behind a barrier of fake understanding, so I wouldn’t go back to how I used to be, but the absence of an outlet only made it worse.

I could feel the voices rising again. Mocking me. Reminding me of how I couldn’t do anything right. How everyone probably hated me right now. I was spiraling, and quickly. The itch to scratch myself had already appeared and it was only a matter of time until my nails were bloodied.

But then, a knock resonated through the empty bedroom.

“Are you ok?” The sight of Aaron with those impenetrable eyes was enough to start to calm the waves of self-loathing, but I was still on edge. In all truth, I could barely speak, the embarrassment I felt for my own actions today still coursing through me.

“I’m still waiting for you to start screaming at me,” I admitted in a tiny voice, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. A good part of me was hoping for it, so I was prepared for any demonstration of anger that he could throw my way. “I feel like I should be in trouble.”

“That’s never going to happen.” He stepped into the room, hugging me to him as he closed the door behind us. We stayed like that for a while, him tightly holding me to his body as we slowly swayed in the same place. At least it forced my own hands to stay far away from my body.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” It escaped before I could realise I was even thinking about it. Aaron froze in his spot before carefully pulling away from me, his hands holding my head to look deep into my eyes. I felt myself melting despite my current state. He really did have beautiful eyes.

“What do you mean?” Sighing, I pushed him away gently before sitting down on the mattress, running a hand through my face. My mind was all over the place, making it difficult to focus on finding the right words to describe what I was going through at that moment.

“I’m sorry, Aaron.” The tears started rolling then. It all became too much. My failure at work, the fact that I was letting him down, I didn’t know what to do anymore. I felt lost, and soon enough, that asphyxiating weight settled over my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe.

“Sweetheart, talk to me.” Through the gaps between my fingers, I could see that he had knelt in front of me even before he reached for my hands, holding them so I couldn’t use them to hide anymore.

“I hate myself for what I did today, Aaron. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to be in the BAU. God, what if something had happened to Spencer today? I… I have to cut myself, please let me get it out.” I tried to pull my hands from him, my need to scratch myself resurfacing even stronger again, but he held them tightly in his grip, stopping me from doing so.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

As I held onto her hands, I pulled her so she’d look at me again. “Sweetheart, please… Is there anything I could do?” It was so difficult to see the woman I loved like this, reduced to a crying mess, and not being able to help her. My heart physically ached as I held her against my chest, caressing her head in a feeble attempt to calm her down.

“Punish me, Aaron. Yell at me, say you hate me and that I don’t deserve you. Tell me you’re going to kick me out of the team.” Her broken sobs were taking away pieces of my heart little by little. 

“I can’t do that, darling. I’m sorry, it wouldn’t be the truth. You don’t deserve to be punished, sweetheart, you made an honest mistake and everyone is entitled to that. I *love you. I could never hate you for something so silly and if anything, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. And our team needs you, Y/N. We weren’t complete until you arrived.” 

Somehow, those didn’t seem like the right words to say. She literally started to tremble in my arms, a scream of agony leaving her lips. “Darling, tell me what I can do to help you, please. I want to help you.” She tried to free her arms to scratch her skin again, but I managed to hold her hands just in time. Suddenly, an idea struck me. An out-of-place reminder of a conversation held in different times, over a bottle of wine. “Alright, you want to be punished, get up.”

My voice hit the same tone it usually did when we were in the bullpen and I needed the team’s attention, so I quickly got hers. She immediately obeyed me, standing up to stare down at me as I remained seated at the edge of her bed. “I want you over my lap, right now.”

If there was any hesitation on my part about what I was doing, it went out of the window the second she threw herself over my legs. I stopped for a second, pondering over what I was about to do. I had never been one for physical punishment on Jack, since I had personal experience on how scarring that experience could be, but I could recognize this was of an entirely different nature. And despite my inexperience with this sort of sexual relationship before, the tightness in my pants warned me that at least a part of me was satisfied with it.

I ran my fingers through Y/N’s hair, appreciating her tiny shiver, a show of desire instead of pain, until I decided it was time to get on with it. Raising my hand in the air, I allowed it to fall over her backside, only strong enough so she could feel it. Y/N’s hands flew to my thigh, holding herself there so she’d be able to take it and I did it again, with more or less the same impact.

“Harder,” came her plea, and I hesitated only for a bit before obeying her request. Her voice hadn’t trembled for the first time in the evening and hearing it resemble her everyday assertiveness didn’t allow me any space to second guess our activities.

My next spank was undoubtedly harder than the last one, and I expected any sort of reaction from my girlfriend, except the broken moan she released after my hand fell over the right cheek of her ass.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t have it in me to even feel embarrassed about my instinctive reactions, especially since Aaron was giving me exactly what I needed. I didn’t know how he knew, I couldn’t think in the state I was in, but it had been too long since I had found myself in this type of relationship and I had forgotten how it provided me with exactly what I needed.

“Y-yes!” I couldn’t stop the shout that escaped my throat as he continued to slowly give me harder slaps. Although it was precisely what I had asked for, it still didn’t manage to give me the same effect I would have gotten from feeling it against my skin. That’s what made me suddenly scramble up to look him in the eye again.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He looked so concerned, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared up at me. I felt myself smiling despite the mess in my mind, just suddenly overcome with gratitude for having such an amazing creature worrying about me.

“Not at all. This is exactly what I need, I don’t know how you knew it.” I held his face between my hands, softly running my thumbs over his cheekbones. “Would you… Would you do something else for me?”

His eyes searched mine quickly before nodding. “Anything.” I had to smile at his devoted tone, so I leaned down to give him a kiss on the forehead before straightening up again and pulling my dress off my body.

His eyes devoured me whole, but he didn’t open his mouth to protest at seeing me only in my underwear again. I think he knew I respected his desire to wait until I was in better condition to have sex, so he must have had a pretty good idea of what I wanted.

With that in mind, I assumed my position over his lap again, enjoying the feeling of his pants against my practically naked body before calling out to him, “More, please.” He hesitated for a bit. I was about to get up and ask him to forget about this, the last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable, when suddenly, his hand collided with my backside.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice sounded dark, and I felt a shiver run through my body as I nodded to his words. “Not good enough, little girl.” His hands pulled on my hair and I whimpered from the surprise and the pleasurable pain. “I’m going to need to hear you say it.”

A wave of hotness flushed down my body and I could feel my panties getting wet from his words. Never, in a million years, did I expect to be in this position, over my boss’s lap, with Aaron practically talking dirty with such an erotic voice. 

“I-I need this,” I finally whimpered, before shifting over his body to adjust my weight, in the hopes of getting some friction between my legs. I hoped I had been discreet, but when I felt my boyfriend’s fingers lightly grazing over my panties on the precise spot I knew would be soaked in a few seconds, I knew I had been caught.

“I can see that.” It was almost funny to hear the smugness in Aaron’s tone, but I couldn’t laugh at that moment. Not when he was pressing the lace of my panties against the emptiness that was throbbing with need, effectively ruining the tissue as it became attached to my pussy lips. “You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I wholeheartedly admitted, trying to force myself not to thrust back into his fingers.

“Hmm…” I could practically *hear his desire, and I thought back on how he had stopped himself from going further with me because he didn’t want to take advantage of me in this state. But it couldn’t really be considered taking advantage if it would help the person in need, right?

“Do you know what would help me even better?” I managed to ask, knowing I had picked up his interest by the way he softly caressed my backside.

“What would that be, little girl?” The nickname ignited every single nerve end on my body, and I had to bite back a moan as he unexpectedly slapped my ass again.

“Y-you, daddy.” I *felt his cock jump up at my own nickname for him and that awarded me another slap, harder than the last one.

“And how do you want your daddy, sweetheart?” My attention had completely abandoned his words as I felt his fingers brush up against me again, slowly pushing the fabric of my underwear aside and caressing my wetness in direct contact for the first time. But then another slap echoed around the room and I gasped, bucking into the fingers that were only barely penetrating me. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“Inside of me, daddy.” A sharp intake of breath was all the warning I got before my panties were being forcibly pushed down to my ankles.

“What won’t daddy do for you, little girl?” He asked just before pushing a single long finger inside of me. I almost cried from how amazing it felt after not being touched for so long, but then a thumb was playing with my tiny pearl and a full-on sob escaped me.

“Please, don’t stop, please!” I begged, pulling on the arm that wasn’t otherwise occupied with me, worried that he’d think he had hurt me. However, the response I got was a soft caress on my head in an attempt to calm me down when he managed to release his arm from my grasp.

“I won’t stop, sweet girl. Relax against your daddy and let him take care of you.” The words were like a balm to the mental cuts I had performed on myself, and my body instantly fell slack against his lap. 

“There you go. *Such a good, little girl.” Each word from his last sentence was punctuated with a sharp thrust of his finger that led me to start moaning - rather loudly, I supposed - like the trembling mess that I was. Suddenly, my underwear was being taken away from me and pressed against my lips. “Open up, princess.” I eagerly obeyed, desperate to continue receiving his touches, which he immediately resumed with a particular tug on my hair.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

“There you go. Can’t have anyone interrupting us now, can we, sweetheart?” It should feel weird how her broken sobs and moans made me grin from ear to ear, but I was too intoxicated by the power I felt to analyze the situation right now. I had wished for a way to help her. Now I had it. It was clear that this was what she needed, and I was more than happy to give it to her.

“You know, I’ve never done this before…” I started, carefully massaging her head with the hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied with her pussy. “I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying this.” I pulled on Y/N’s hair again, just in time to watch as her eyes rolled back, her orgasm finally catching up to her after I quickened the motions from my fingers. 

“So beautiful,” I absentmindedly whispered as I waited for her to come back to me, not stopping any of my movements, but simply slowing them down. At last, with one final shiver, her body fell limp on my lap and I took my fingers from her with a chuckle at the displeased whine she let out at the emptiness. 

I pulled her up so she would be seated on my lap now, her face carefully enveloped by my hands as I searched her eyes after pulling out her panties from her mouth. “How are you feeling, my love?” It was impossible not to be affected by the way she simply melted against me.

“Better. I’m so much better, Aaron, thank you so much.” She hid her face on the crook of my neck and I felt warm and intoxicated at the same time. I wanted to cuddle her and protect her for the rest of her life, but I also wanted to be tightly snuggled inside of her like nothing else on the planet. The dichotomy of this woman was simply too much.

“You’re welcome, my love.” I continued caressing her hair while hugging her close to me, paying no attention to the fact that she was most likely ruining my pants. After a while, she pushed away from my chest to look me in the eyes again.

“What about you, honey?” I knew what she meant. But despite how aroused I felt, I knew it still wasn’t the right moment, so that’s why I leaned down to give her a sweet kiss, before picking her up and softly laying her on the bed. 

“I’m already okay, darling. Don’t you worry about me.” Despite knowing she understood where I was coming from, she couldn’t help but pout at me, which made me chuckle. “Soon, alright?” I lightly traced her bottom lip with my thumb as she nodded solemnly at me. “Thank you, sweetheart. Do you want me to stay here with you?”

The way her eyes lit up made me feel like the most special man in the world. “Would you do that?” It hurt me that she’d even doubt, for a second, what I would do for her, especially since it was something that I would also benefit from.

“Of course, darling. I’ll stay with you. I won’t be here when you wake up, because we don’t want the team to notice anything, but I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” She watched me with sleepy eyes as I carefully took off my clothes, putting them over the chair so they wouldn’t wrinkle, and then climbed up on the bed next to her, pulling her to me so she’d fall asleep listening to my heartbeat dance for her.

She’d be alright. I’d make sure of it.