#i called my doctor's office on tuesday and told them HEY I THINK I HAVE A UTI

[shinysteph]

Cannot sleep because kidneys hurt so bad!!!

[nancypullen]

Typical Tuesday

Life moves at a snail’s pace here but so do I.  I used to be such a bouncy, bright gal until my ankles and feet decided to turn on me.  Now everything hurts and cracks, and scoffs at me when I say, “Hey we should dance!” Boy, I miss dancing.  I still shimmy around the kitchen when I cook, but sustained dancing for an hour or so seems like a big ask. Poor, poor me.

I’m only thinking about that because I just tried making an appointment with an orthopedic doctor for a weird thing that’s causing pain in my left ankle, formerly known as my “good ankle”.  I was on hold for about ten minutes, went through the new patient song and dance with a very friendly young woman, gave all of my pertinent info, and then she said, “Okay, just as soon as your former doctor sends your medical records someone will call you to schedule an appointment.”  Well, crap.  I replied, “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you will not request those records.”  She confirmed that, said I’d have to get them to fax the records, and hopefully everyone would do their part and I can see a doctor before my foot falls off.  Immediately after ending that call I placed a call to my doctor in Tennessee and said I needed my records to be faxed up here.  That not-so-nice lady said that would require an official form from the doctor’s office in Maryland, and blah blah blah.  I explained that they told me I had to make the request and maybe I get the form from them, or perhaps it could be emailed to me, or could I possibly find it on their (TN) website. I was battering her with all of the ways I might be able to get my hands on the form and get this done today, when she finally sighed and said, “Look just email me giving your permission to release the records and put your name and date of birth in the email.”   Now, was that so hard? I thanked her profusely and sent the email fifteen seconds after we hung up.  Who thinks that this will all go smoothly and I’ll get a call this week?  I’d say those odds are slim. I hope I’m wrong, but I’ll bet I have to request the records at least once more and won’t see a doctor before September. Ugh. But that’s not why I’m here.  I’m here because I don’t post enough and I’m trying to make myself show up.  It would help if I had something to actually write about but you’ll just have to bear with me. If I show up every day maybe my muse will show up too. Cross your fingers, light a candle, rub some beads.

Today started the way our days it always start. The mister gets up early and goes out for a long walk.  He likes to show off his healthy feet. He listens to audiobooks and watches the town wake up.  While he’s doing that I play word games on my phone (Wordle, Spelling Bee, Letter Boxed, Connections, etc). Then I have long conversations with the cats, eventually get up and make the bed, and ease into my day.  We’re very different people. For example, he’s been watching Wimbledon and he caught me tuned into the Hallmark channel’s Christmas in July.

Don’t judge me. The world is on fire, I needed a dose of predictable sweetness with a happy ending. Speaking of sweetness, on Sunday we drove over to spend an afternoon with the Edgewater gang.  Everyone is getting ready to scatter on different trips, so we wanted to hug them before that happened.  Little Miss was as entertaining and fun as always.  We were treated to a mermaid water show in her pool, I played Barbies with her for a little while, and then she belly laughed while driving her cats bonkers with a laser pointer.  It was a full afternoon.  A big storm blew in and dumped tons of rain that same afternoon.  We made our exit when there was a break in the radar and raced the rain home.  As we started across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge I saw these big freighters lined up to head into port, and those ominous clouds hovering above them.  Yikes.

That was snapped from a moving car so the quality isn’t great, but...anyone else notice there’s a chunk of the bridge missing?  I didn’t notice it when I took the picture, I was too busy looking at those ships.  Doesn’t look big enough to alter the integrity of the structure, but what the heck happened there?  Someone had a bad day.

On a happier note, I’ve got one sunflower fully opened and several nearly there. Aren’t they cheerful? I just love ‘em.

Other things that give me pleasure are clean windows (how’s that for a segue?). My sister turned me on to this fabulous spray cleaner. 

It’s amazing. Even better, it smells wonderful and it’s just $2.50!  I picked up my can at Walmart, I’m sure it’s sold elsewhere.  Anyway, it’s cheap, it leaves windows sparkling and streak-free, and the fragrance smells just like the lobby of the fancy-schmancy Grosvenor House Hotel in London.  No lie.  When we stayed there like the Clampetts a few years back it was one of the best parts of the stay - walking into that lobby and being enveloped in the fragrance.  I didn’t know if it was all of the fresh flowers, some special spray they used, or if that’s what loads of money smells like.  Whatever it was, you can have it in your home for $2.50.  I’m a fan. I’m not a fan of my hair. I mean, that’s not exactly news. It’s been an on-going battle since kindergarten.  I’ve let it grow again, it’s long again, and I look stuck in the 70′s. My hair behaves a little better when it’s long, the weight is like a Thunder Shirt. But I don’t think the length is a friend to my face, I know the style isn’t. To be fair, I go through this every year during July and August.  The height of summer heat and humidity always makes me want to shave my head. I was zipping along just fine in June, it wasn’t even hot.  Right around the 4th of July the sticky heat arrived and my hair lost its dang mind.  I’m walking around looking like this.

So I’m spending lots of time on Pinterest looking at short haircuts.  I’m going to do it it’s just a matter of choosing a style (which won’t work), a place (good luck with that), and screwing up my courage.  We all know this will be a disaster.  It always is.  I don’t think I’ve even once walked into a salon and walked out feeling better.  It’s a generational curse.  But it’s been quite a while since I tempted fate, and I’m feeing so ugly lately anyway, might as well. Best case scenario, I end up with a cute, fresh style that I like. 

 Worst case scenario, I look like Mrs. Claus. 

It’s a safe bet that I have more Mrs. Claus tendencies than I do Helen Mirren tendencies. Darn.  If nothing else maybe it’s just time for a change.  Will I miss the ease of a ponytail or a big hair clip? Yep.  Will I miss this same, old, tired hairstyle? Nope.  Well, maybe.  There’s always comfort in what we know vs the unknown.    Finding a place is daunting.  I called the Ulta salon in Easton thinking that if the haircut sucked then at least I’d be inside Ulta and I could treat myself to a new lipstick or something.  They only have two stylists and a haircut and blowdry is $70.  I will start up the weedeater and let it cut my hair before I pay $70.  I don’t want to go to the salon that I visited in Denton, the owner cut my hair and she was delightful, but the haircut was not.  There are plenty of others in the area, mostly pricey, so I may just have to throw a dart and pick a place.  Or I could spend the rest of my life in a ponytail. Back to Pinterest...

Raise your hand if you’re tired of hearing me talk about my hair.

Told you I didn’t have anything to write about, pretty sure the glass cleaner was the high point of this post.  I think I’ll head upstairs and soak in a bubble bath and lose myself in a book - a book where the main character has perfect hair. I hope that your week has been a delight so far.  I hope that you have had at least one good laugh and at least two moments of pure pleasure.  If not, hey, it’s only Tuesday!  There’s plenty of time. Sending out loads of love tonight. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

[letarasstuff]

Doesn't she love me anymore?

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it as much as I do!

Summary: Spencer's daughter starts to question why her mother left the small family early on

Warnings: Mentions/undertones of bullying, an absent parent and descreptions of the concequences for the child, So. Much. Angsty. Feelings.

Wordcount: 2.5k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________

“Daddy?” Spencer turns around from the frying pan to look at his daughter. Against common belief, he is quite the cook. But this only started when he became a father, after he realized a child won’t be able to live off of a diet consisting of coffee and anxiety, just like he did at the time. “Yes, Sweetheart?”

She looks down to the piece of paper on the kitchen counter in front of her. “Why did Mommy leave us?”

The spatula falls to the ground. It’s a question the father did not expect on a Tuesday morning before school. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? She saw me the first time and didn’t want me anymore. It’s my fault Mommy left us, left you, just like Linda said.” Tears begin to stream down her face.

“No no no”, her father is quick to turn off the heat and walks around the island to hug his daughter. “None of this is your fault. I don’t know what this Linda said, but it is not true. Your mother had her own reasons to stay out of our lives, but it has nothing to do with you.”

This doesn’t calm her down. “What are her reasons? Why did she leave us? Why did leave me?” Frantically she tries to keep her sobs down in order to speak. Spencer never has seen her this upset.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you are in the right state to talk about it now? Why don’t we calm down and get something for breakfast on our way to school and talk about it after I pick you up this afternoon?” He suggests, hoping the thought of a cup of hot chocolate from their favorite bakery would help her.

(Y/N) looks up at him with bloodshot and glassy eyes. Snot runs down from her nose. Spencer is quick to get her a tissue and make her blow into it, cringing internally about all those germs. “Do you promise to tell me more after school?” Big eyes look up at him and the father hurts. It hurts him, because there are so many things in her future that will break her and all that because of her mother. He can’t shield her from all of it, as much as he wants to he isn’t able. Because there always will be people, people like this Linda, who will make the girl conscious of her absent mother.

“I promise”, he tells her and holds his little finger out for her. (Y/N) smiles while linking hers with his, knowing her father will keep this promise just like any other of his. “Good, and now pack up we got a bakery to visit!” Quickly the girl grabs the piece of paper in front of her only to shove it into her backpack.

A little later she sits at her desk and looks at her teacher expectantly, just like her fellow classmates. “Ok children, today we won’t work further on our addition and subtraction worksheets-” The teacher’s sentence is cut short by the eruption of cheerful shouts. Just (Y/N) looks at the multiplication sheet in front of her.

The teacher is quick to quiet the class again. “Instead we will continue our work on the mother’s card you started doing yesterday. Linda was so kind to tell me that you don’t have the chance to finish them at home, because your moms are there. That is why you do it here and your worksheets at home.”

With a frown on her face (Y/N) pulls out the blank piece of paper that made her feel bad ever since her teacher handed it out to her yesterday. While everybody around her chatters happily with other classmates, she just stares at the paper. It is a reminder of something she doesn’t have, something she lacks and will never get: A real mother. A hug from her mother. Not even the motherly reassurance one gets after a nightmare. Nothing.

“Hey orphan. Ya realizing your mom doesn’t love you and that’s why she left you?” Linda, someone (Y/N) later learns to call a Mean Girl, struts up to the younger one’s desk. A sigh leaves her lips before answering. “You do know for an orphan I need to have neither a mommy nor a daddy. And I do for a fact have a dad, a loving one actually.”

A more light than hard slap on the back of her head makes the girl’s body jolt. “I don’t care, but I know that your mom hates you enough just after looking at you to know she doesn’t want anything to do with you.” After that Linda goes back to her table, leaving (Y/N) feeling more miserable than before.

Some starring on the paper later her teacher passes her table. “Is there something you want to talk about, Sweetheart? You seem very sad.” That is an obvious fact. Finally the girl is able to lift her gaze. “Miss Ramirez, I don’t know what to do.” This is probably the first time ever she said this sentence in school.

“Mother’s day is in a few days, Sweetie, and this is why we all make these cards. It’s a thank you to your mom and a way to show her how much you love her. You love your mom, don’t you?” The shake of her head shocks the teacher. Immediately an alarming signal rings through her head, because this is a red flag. “Why? Did she do something?”

“Miss Ramirez, I don’t have a mommy. She- she left Daddy and me.” Tears fill (Y/N)’s eyes. Her teacher is quick to hug and sush her. “Oh Sweetie, this is not a bad thing. I’m sure your mom loves you very much, even if she is not there with you. Do you wanna go out for a bit to calm down?” Meanwhile she connects the obvious signs of a single dad in her mind. Missed parent teacher conferences, unnecessary hovering over the child and the tendency to be categorized as a helicopter parent. Yes, Dr. Reid ticks all of those boxes.

It’s the second time of the day that an adult asked (Y/N) to calm down, and frankly it doesn’t really help with the situation at hand. “Can I do my homework outside? It’s too loud in here”, she asks between sniffles. Both of them know that the class’ volume is not the real reason for the request. “Of course, Sweetheart. If you need something, just come in and ask me. Alright?” (Y/N) nods and gets her multiplication sheet and a pencil before leaving the classroom.

At the end of the school day, Spencer is there to pick up his daughter. For days like these, where are no cases, Hotch gave him a free pass on (Y/N)’s very first day at school to leave the office earlier to be able to pick her up himself. As a father and someone who works the same high demanding job as him, he knows that little things like these are often the most important. And even if there were a case today, Spencer would have stayed back. He promised his daughter the truth and this is what he is going to tell her.

“Hey Dr. Reid. Do you have a moment?” Her teacher greets him at the classroom door. Concerned about his child’s wellbeing he nods and follows her back out of the room. “I gave the children the assignment of creating a card for their mothers, because mother’s day is rolling around. Today (Y/N) told me her mother left you, is that right?” This is the moment Spencer connects the dots. This is the kick off that made her question her mother’s motives about leaving all of the sudden.

The young doctor clears his throat. “Uhm yes, that is right. Actually, I’m going to talk to her about it right after school on her demand.” Miss Ramirez nods with an understanding nod. “Thank you for your honesty, Dr. Reid. I also want to warn you, in two days we will hold a celebration in honor of mother’s day with the kids’ mothers. You are invited as a father, because this is a special situation. But I also give (Y/N) a free pass for this event. It can be very traumatic for her.”

The dad thanks her, but his thoughts are somewhere else. He is mad. He is mad for his daughter, because she will always be the one with a “special situation”. The odd one, because yeah, it isn’t uncommon for fathers to leave (which isn’t anything less sad and traumatic), but an absent mother hits differently.

But Spencer is also hurt. Hurt, because for her young age, there is already the word “traumatic” thrown around. No, it isn’t enough that her dad works a job with the risk of him not coming home from a case again, or being the target of an enemy. No, she also has to go through the experience of missing a parent, never knowing how her life would be if it wasn’t for someone like her mother.

Even with Spencer trying to fill that role, there will be a time where (Y/N) will ask herself all of the “what ifs”. He can’t stop it from happening, and that is his biggest pain right there. Because he can’t shield her from her own thoughts. At the age of six she already is a bright, brilliant and talented mind. Now in a few years or maybe just months, she will start to think about her mother being the root of her pain, bad experiences and hurt. Her thoughts will lead to a downward spiral of how a person can do something like her mother, who acted like that with the knowledge of which consequences will follow. And Spencer can’t stop this from happening.

“Daddy!” A small thud comes from (Y/N) colliding with his leg. Just by the way she squeezes it he knows that she hasn’t had a good day at school. “Hey Baby. Do you want to go to the office for a bit? I think your Auntie Penelope told me something about a new science set she got for you. Or do you want to go straight home?” Spencer asks after lifting her into his arms. Immediately she hides her face into the crook of his neck. “Home”, she murmurs. Home it is then.

“Aaaaaand here comes the little missy’s hot chocolate!” The father says in a funny voice while carefully putting the cup into his daughter’s hands. She sits covered in a blanket on the sofa, looking expectantly at her father.

Spencer sighs at the lack of reaction. “Are you sure you want to hear it?” (Y/N) nods adamantly. “Ok, but I got to go a bit back for this story

“It was about eight years ago, I worked on a case with your Aunties and Uncles back then. I was the one who had to get the last round of coffee for the night at a small 24/7 diner. As I walked in I thought I died, because I was sure an angel stood right in front of me. Well not-” “Is that Mommy?!” (Y/N) cuts him off excitedly. Spencer smiles slightly. “You need to listen to the story!” The girl shifts in her seat. “Right, sorry.”

As I was saying: well in front, because she sat at the bar waiting for her order. I nervously ordered the coffees and had to begin three times, because I kept messing up, mesmerized by her sole atmosphere. As the waiter went to put the coffee pot on, the woman turned towards me and introduced herself. After that she asked me what I was doing late at night in a small town like that and we somehow forgot everything around us by just talking. After that we stayed in touch. Six months later we became a couple, she moved to DC in order for me to still be able to do my job here.

“Two years later your Mom got pregnant with you, and it was quite a surprise to us. But we felt ready at that time and so she moved in with me and we had you. The first few months were great, we couldn’t be happier. BUt then you continuously became ill. At first just a cold, then the pocks and so on. I think it was the third night in a row where you held us up all night. I took a year off from work to care for you with your Mom. I carried you through our apartment the whole night, giving you a bottle, singing, reading, doing anything.

“Then I saw her standing in the doorway. Even though there was baby vomit on her sweatpants and I had never seen her eye bags being this dark, she was the most beautiful woman to me. I approached her with a smile, but her frown only deepened. I thought it was because she worried about you and your health. Instead she told me she can’t do it. She can’t be a mother, that she wasn’t cut for this job.” Her exact words still resonate in Spencer’s ears to this day. He knows exactly what she said, word for word, and they never stopped to sting any less.

“So Mommy left us because I was too much trouble?” (Y/N)’s voice sounds even sadder than before. “No, it never was because of you. She knew exactly what it meant to have a child. Your mother knew what kind of work it takes and what the future brought. You have absolutely nothing to do with it. Some people are just not made to be parents and it’s better when they realize it themselves and leave the situation.”

(Y/N) nods, her mind running wild. All of that makes plenty of sense but at the same time not. “Sweetheart, that doesn’t change the fact that I love you and I will never leave you. You are my everything and I’m so happy to be a dad to such a wonderful little girl like you. I want you to remember that your Mom may not be here with us, but she still loves you. And I’m here for you, for anything you need, want or don’t want. Do you understand me?”

She nods again and curls up into her father’s lap. “Can we watch something?” She asks after a bit of silence, where both of them indulged their own thoughts. Quickly the TV turned on and some kids movie plays. The rest of the day the small family spends all the time cuddled on the couch, because at the moment they need to feel the other there with them.

The next two days Spencer calls (Y/N) in sick at school and himself at work, because together they fly to Vegas. Just because her own mother wasn’t ready for the job, doesn’t mean they can’t appreciate the work her grandmother did as a mother. That and you never know how much time you have left with the people who are dear to you.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter four

Chapter Four

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers, library smut, oral (female receiving) lots and lots of fluff

word count: 3.9k

from the beginning <3

Everyone at work was very understanding. Almost all of them saw it coming, he was taking more sick days than normal and he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore when the 30 days was required to take rolled around. They were profilers after all.

He arrives on Thursday morning to pack his desk. The team is finally home and all together to wish him well on his future journey, giving him hugs and kisses as they each visited his desk.

They had already replaced him, Will LaMontagne was giving the FBI a shot, finally. Spending more time with JJ, the kids were old enough now to accept both of them working. And Kate Callahan was back, now that her baby wasn’t a baby anymore either.

Even Penelope and Derek showed up, bringing a cake that said ‘happy retirement’ written across the frosting. They were happy for him, they shared the same excitement he had. There was a thrill in his eyes again as they asked him about his plans.

“Tell us about this Y/N you met,” Emily cut into the laughter to get to the serious topics.

“I’ve been going to the park a lot recently and I found this little reading nook by a pond. She was there with her daughter and they invited me over to their picnic,” he realized how fake it all sounded as he continued to speak. “Her daughter is wonderful and super smart, I took them to the Smithsonian on Sunday and I’m completely smitten.”

Everyone swooned, happy to see him finally finding someone that makes him gush like this. It had been a very, very long time since Spencer has told any of them about a person, let alone someone he was in love with.

“She is wonderful,” Penelope added, “she makes the best tea and she lives in a literal Disney movie.”

Spencer laughed, “yeah she does. They probably read more books than I have, they make so many references all the time and they even dress up for what they’re reading, it’s amazing.”

They were amazed by how giddy he was, unable to stop smiling at him, “here we dressed up for the museum, I was milo from Atlantis and she was the old man in Tarzan,” he pulled his phone from his pocket to show them the photo.

It was his background now, Y/N sent it to him when he finally went back to his place Monday night, knowing he’d miss them. Not wanting him to be alone.

He was beyond proud to show them the photo, beaming from ear to ear as they all complimented his attire.

“She looks like you,” Kate added, “must be the genius gene,” she added, making awkward eye contact with JJ as they both clocked it.

“She’s exactly like me, that’s why Y/N likes having me around, it’s good for Amoreena to feel normal with the way our brains work,” he spoke about her like she was his own. Forever grateful to have her in his life.

“So when are you proposing?” Matt teased him. Knowing the feeling of love like this all too well with his perfect wife and a handful of children.

“I’m not trying to jinx anything,” Spencer admitted. “I actually have a job interview at the Library she works at later, so I’ll be around here a lot more.”

“He’ll be moved in by the end of the month,” Tara smiled, proud of him and the courage it takes to follow your heart.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” he presses his lips together softly, nodding as he avoids eye contact with them. “But you can call me whenever you need my brain, I guess.”

Hugs were exchanged as Spencer had to leave, Derek even offered to drive him back to his apartment to help with 4 boxes of books from his desk, and to have a bit of a talk like they always do.

“It’s surprisingly easy to be a dad, all you have to do is be there and love them,” Derek shared a tidbit of advice

“She told me she doesn’t mind me being like Amoreena’s dad, but I don’t think I can yet. I want her to decide when she wants me in that role.”

Spencer explains his feelings the easiest to Derek. Like he was already in his mind and knew the thoughts before he said them, Derek was never mad or disappointed in him. He loved him fully, and Spencer loved him right back.

“Like when you chose Gideon?”

Spencer can only nod, it’s still too sad to think about him being gone. “You know what it’s like, you love your father but there are other people in your life who fit the role better.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “You’re going to be great, regardless of the name she uses when she thinks of you.”

“Thank you,” Spencer smiled as they pulled up to his apartment, “you should bring Hank to meet the animals this weekend sometime.”

“He’d love that,” Derek smiled back at him, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’m really proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it if you didn’t first,” he admits. “You’re a strong man who decided to put his happiness first, I can be too.”

“You sure as hell can,” Derek wrapped him up in one last hug before sending him off to live that best life he was talking about.

The only person who didn’t know yet was his mother. He wasn’t sure how to tell her, he knew she’d be proud of him regardless but that anxiety of disappointing her never went away even now that he was 40.

“Spencer!”

“Hey mom,” he smiled when she picked up. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic, Marge and I are going on a walk later to see some ducks that were born, I really love it here Spencer,” he could hear it in her voice. She was much more joyful when she was surrounded by friends.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“you sound happy, what’s going on?”

She was his mother, after all, she could know exactly how he’s feeling from just hearing him breathe or being in the same room as him. It was like a superpower, she always knew what was going on.

“I met someone,” he can’t help but smile. “And I quit the FBI to have a family.”

“You’re kidding?” He couldn’t read her tone, not sure if she was surprised or disappointed.

“Her name is Y/N, she has a 7-year-old daughter named Amoreena who is exactly like how I was as a child, you’d really like them,” he explains and he can hear his mother's smile from his end of the phone.

“I would love to meet them, you can bring them to visiting hours next Tuesday?” Diana offered, genuinely happy for him in a way that made his heart burst.

“I’ll see if they’re free and I’ll let you know.”

“I love you, Spencer,” she reminded him. “It’s nice to hear you’re happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“I love you too, thank you, mom, for everything.”

She hangs up before they can get too emotional, leaving Spencer inside his sad little apartment all by himself. Taking the opportunity to pack his overnight bag for Y/N and pick out some books from his collection to show Amoreena.

There’s an envelope sticking out of one of his books that manages to catch his attention, taking it out to see his name written on it in Gideon’s handwriting. He almost forgot he had this, how important the words were.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me. I’m sorry the explanation couldn’t be better, Spencer. I’m sorry it doesn’t make more sense, but I’ve already told you. I just don’t understand any of it anymore.

I guess I’m just looking for it again, for the belief I had in college, the belief I had when I first met Sara and it all seemed so right.

The belief in happy endings. When you find that, never let it go, Spencer.

Don’t let this job do to you what it did to me, get out and get a life when you can. I have faith in you, till I see you again, take care, son.

Gideon

He walked over to the window then, seeing a beautiful red and brown bird perched on his fire escape. He couldn’t help but smile, “I found my Sara, thank you,” he whispers to the bird who turns its head to the side before flying off.

Gideon always did have the best timing and the best advice.

—

“Y/N, your one o’clock is here to see you,” the receptionist at the Library said over the phone, hanging up and returning her attention to Spencer, “she’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Doctor Reid,” he hears her voice as she rounds the corner, appearing behind a stack of books in the most beautiful blue dress he’s ever seen. “Lovely to see you again.”

“You too,” he smiles.

“Right this way,” she can’t help but smile as she escorts him to her office.

“I don’t normally consider people who don’t send in a resume, but I have a feeling you’re going to be good at this,” she teased him as he sat at her desk.

“Allison is going on maternity leave in a few weeks, so you won’t start until she has the baby. If you’re serious about wanting this position, it’s only Monday through Thursday, 9 to 2:30.”

“You’re not going to ask me anything?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but the literary historian and I get to spend a lot of time together, I’d rather hire someone I know I already like,” she smiled again. “And it would be nice to see you every day without a 7-year-old taking all your attention away from me.”

“You just want to live out the fantasy of kissing someone in the encyclopedia section, don’t you?” He teased her right back, making her blush. “I knew it.”

“Sue me!” She laughed, and he finally understood what tinker bell meant when she said farries are born from the purest laughter.

He was in love with her right then and there, he was sure of it.

It had been under a week and yet as he stared at her, hearing her wonderful laughter and seeing her beautiful smile, knowing she wanted to spend time with him, that she genuinely liked him and none of this was one-sided, it made him fall harder than he thought he could.

“Come on then,” he stands abruptly, taking her hand and pulling her out the door.

She tries to giggle quietly as she follows him all the way back to the quietest section of the library. Most of the books on the shelves didn’t even have bar codes because they haven’t been checked out since the 60’s, no one needs them but they can’t seem to part with them.

She backs up against the shelf and pulls him into her space, he drops her hands and holds her face instead, looking at her beautiful eyes as they sparkled in the fluorescent lighting.

“I was expecting this to be hungrier than this when I imagined it all for all these years,” she whispers, biting her lip to force her smile back.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful,” is all he can say, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs lightly a few times before finally placing his lips against hers, ever so gently.

Her hands stretched around his back, pulling him in closer till their bodies are pressed together and then she’s kissing him deeper. Breathing in through her nose like she’s trying to keep him there forever, her fingernails dig into his shirt and he knows she wants more.

He slid his thigh between hers, opening his mouth to give her all the access she wanted and letting her take control of the speed. She wasn’t kidding when she said she expected it to be hungrier. She was kissing him like it was the first time she has had contact with another human being in years, and it just might have been. She said she was single for a while before Amoreena, probably the whole time since as well.

“Spencer,” she took a moment to gasp for air, breathing against his lips as he did the same. “Can we?”

He kisses along her jaw then, moving towards her ear to whisper, “do what? Use your words.”

“Anything, just touch me please, god it’s been 12 years,” she begged as quietly as possible, tugging at his hair as he nibbled on her earlobe.

He kissed down her neck making his way towards her chest. Holding her by the hips now, she arched her back into the shelf as he kissed all the way to where her dress started to cover her breasts but he didn’t stop. Kissing over her clothes as he dropped down to his knees in front of her.

He undid his tie, slipping it off his neck and handing it to her, “in case you need to scream into something.”

She held it in her hand for a second, registering what he just said and moaning softly in response as she held it closer to her lips, he took that as a yes and slipped under her dress.

She was wearing just a pair of regular cut pink underwear, not expecting this in the slightest when she got ready this morning. He kissed her over top of the fabric, spreading her legs so that he could kiss the insides of her thighs as she tried to desperately grind into his face. grazing his teeth against her skin as she shivers, thighs shaking in anticipation.

He kisses right where her clit should be under the fabric, knowing he’s correct when she whimpers around the tie he handed her. It's muffled and adorable as he kisses her again and again, knowing she wants more and teasing her gently.

He pulls her panties to the side, mesmerized by how perfect she is for only a second before returning to the task at hand. Being the first person to pleasure her in years, wanting her to have the best time possible.

With one hand he holds her panties back, using his other to slowly swipe a single finger through her folds to see just how wet she was. Smirking against her thigh as he’s able to slip right in.

“Please,” he hears her whisper, lifting the dress up so she could look at what he’s doing.

“Such a good girl for me,” he pressed the words against her skin.

He spreads her legs even further, resting one of them on his shoulder as he dives in, sucking her clit into his mouth abruptly as he pumps his single finger in and out. She jerks her hips at the sudden contact, stuffing the tie in her mouth and biting down as she whimpers.

He knows what he’s doing, where all the pleasure spots are and what feels the best on most women. Searching around and trying different tongue movements, memorizing the sounds she makes and attempting to hear them again and again, knowing it means she’s enjoying herself.

That’s all he wanted, to please her. Not even realizing how hard he was as he continues to eat her out furiously in the back corner of the DC Public Library. He forgets they’re even in public entirely as he moans against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.

She’s quaking then, holding onto the top of his head with one hand as the other grips a shelf. She’s panting into the material of the tie, the hot breath making its way through the fabric and stopping the whorish moans he knew she’d make. It had been too long since someone treated her right.

He added a second finger then, wanting to push her over the edge as he curled them, finding her g spot and caressing it with every thrust of his fingers. She clenched around him then, a high-pitched noise left her mouth as she finished around him.

He couldn’t help but smirk, re-moving his fingers and cleaning them off in his mouth. Releasing them with a pop before dragging his tongue along her one last time. Gathering up everything she released and placing her panties back over her nicely.

He kissed over her underwear one last time before fixing her dress and standing up, “did I manage to fulfill the dream?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, looking like she was coming down from a real high, not just an orgasm. She pulled him in close and held onto him for dear life as she continued to catch her breath, and then her hand started to wander.

“Nope,” Spencer whispered, moving her hand away from his aching cock. “As much as I want to, I’d rather fuck you at home.”

“Home huh?” She teased him, kissing his cheek softly as she pulled back.

"I love you," he whispers against her ear, without a fear in the world that she didn't feel the same way.

"I love you too, Spencer."

They couldn’t stop smiling at each other, it felt surreal to be this happy. He kissed her a few more times, staying hidden in the back corner until the blood in his body let this dick and went back to where it was supposed to be.

She just held him in her arms, leaning back against the shelves as they kissed softly, running her hands through his hair gently, over and over. She whispered a few thank you’s to him, letting him know it was everything she waited for.

It was truly perfect.

—

Amoreena was so happy to see him back at the farm when she got off the bus, she missed him during the few days he wasn’t there.

She asked him to help with her homework, her teacher assigning them an “all about me” project to showcase their growth at the end of the year ceremony. It was almost June, she only had a few weeks left before she was off for the summer and free to show him around the whole kingdom.

Y/N brought out a box of craft supplies and a collection of photos. Showing Spencer every single moment of her and Amoreena’s life.

From her first sonogram to the first bump photo, she had and every maternity shot on the farm you could think of, to the day she was born, her first bath, first steps, chocolate cake shoved on her nose at her first birthday, everything. He felt like he watched her grow up in the blink of an eye, staring at all the photos while Y/N and Amoreena made a plan for her project.

She did look a lot like him, in some instances, she even looked like his mom. There was a look Diana would get when she was intrigued with something, or when she was trying to figure something out. She’d bite her tongue and tilt her head, and it was exactly what Amoreena did.

He never thought he’d see a child-like himself this early, he always expected someone to contact him at 18 and surprise him like Rossi. He really never, ever thought he'd have a child in his life who he was blessed with watching grow up. He never believed someone would have a kid so much like him and allow him to see the world through their eyes. He was amazed by how lucky he got, to be brought into an already happy family that wanted him, they didn’t just need him.

There was no need for a father in Amoreena’s life, she was happily living her life with her grandparents and her mother, explaining to him that she had a bunch of aunts and uncles, plus 15 cousins and they all lived close too. Her life was full of people to love her, and yet she wanted Spencer to love her too.

“Can I put the photo of us at the museum on here too?” She asked Y/N, looking at Spencer to see if he was okay with it too. “I already told my friends that you’re my dad.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t want to cry in front of her so instead he just stopped all movement inside of his body and held it in. Looking at Y/N who was also a little emotional as Amoreena went back to looking through the photos.

Amoreena didn’t even notice how their expressions changed, she didn’t understand the weight of the words as she said them. She was oblivious to the hole in Spencer’s heart that she was filling with glitter glue, making him feel like he was whole again.

“Yeah,” he finally managed to speak. “I’d love to be on your project.”

“I know you said we don’t need dads but I kinda want one,” Amoreena’s soft expression made his heart melt even more. He was putty in her hands, willing to be whatever she wanted from him as long as he could.

“When did you say that?” Y/N asked softly, confused as to where she was when they had a conversation.

“The other morning at breakfast, um, my father left when I was little. It was just me and my wonderful mother until I was 21, then I found someone to call Dad. His name was Jason Gideon, he was my mentor and he made he feel like I was smart and loved,” he smiled, letting her know he genuinely meant it. “There’s a big difference between being a father and being someone's dad.”

“What’s that?” Amoreena’s innocent mind running wild as she tried to figure out his meaning.

“Anyone can be a father when two adults make a baby,” he said softly, making eye contact with Y/N as she blushed. Knowing where he was going with this. “But dads are special, they’re the people who are supposed to make you feel safe and loved. A person who you can turn to for advice and know he’ll love you no matter what you have to say. Dad’s are supposed to love you forever, regardless of what happens in life. Just like your mom does already.”

Amoreena leaned into his chest, pressing her head against him softly. He wrapped his arms around her gently, giving her the tiniest hug he’s ever given. “I pick you then, you’re the best guy I know and I think that means you’d be a good dad.”

Y/N silently cried, getting up from the table and walking into the kitchen so Amoreena wouldn’t see her sob. Spencer tried to widen his eyes so the tears he was generating would slip back into his tear ducts. Not wanting to cry as she held him.

“I’d love to be your dad,” he whispered, kissing her head softly as she held him tighter. “But first I’ve gotta check on your mom,” he whispered into her hair. Watching her pull away and look for where she was.

“Okay,” Amoreena shrugged, returning to her project as he wandered into the kitchen.

She was leaning against the counter when he walked in, her dress pulled up over her face as she cried into the material. Wiping her face as Spencer walked in and looking at him with the happiest smile.

She was laughing into her tears then, shaking her head as she sobbed, “why am I crying?”

He laughed then too, pulling her into a hug and spinning her around gently as she kept laughing. Her face buried into his neck as she smiled, he set her down gently so he could pull her into a kiss.

Her cheeks were all wet as he held her face, peppering kisses to her lips as they both tried to stop smiling.

“I’m going to miss hearing her call you Spencer,” Y/N whispered.

“Me too,” he giggled again. “But dad does have a good ring to it.”

tag list:

@shemarmooresfedora

@spencers-dria

@spookyspence

@reidsfish

@manuosorioh

[mutants-and-soldiers]

The Proposition (Ch. 1)

summary || You've been thinking about Steve's proposal a lot. Part of you wants to decline but a bigger part of you wants what he's offering.

pairing || alpha!Steve x omega!Reader (Past alpha!Bucky x omega!Reader)

word count || 3,706

warnings || A/B/O, eventual smut, therapy talks, kink negotiation, lots of dialogue — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || I can't get this story out of my head, really! First chapter is all about setting up the smut so I apologize but I believe in talking things out. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first part of the series! I'm going to try and be better about answering comments from here on out! Keep the comments coming, I love hearing from you guys so much!

You can also read it on Ao3. Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my work, even if you credit me. I always welcome comments and reblogs!

Sequel to Helping Hands: One Two Three Four Five

Divider courtesy of the talented @firefly-graphics

After so many years of going to see Dr. Beta, you were used to the routine when you stepped through the doors. It was late in their work day so you were the only person in the office other than Valarie, the receptionist, who gave you a kind smile. “Good afternoon,” she said, typing something onto her computer. “Dr. Beta’s just about ready.”

“Thanks, Valarie,” you say, setting your bag down to take off your suit.

It had been weird the first time Dr. Beta had demanded you not wear the suit during your sessions. You protested but in the end, she won out. There were a lot of reasons for choosing a female-only office but this was the biggest one. They accommodate you so much just to make you feel welcome and safe in your own skin. It was one of the few places that you could take the suit off and feel comfortable.

The suit was just being zipped up into your bag when the door to the doctor’s office opened. Dr. Beta was a matronly middle aged woman with plenty of laugh lines and crow's feet from years of laughter and joy. She was a kind beta who had done wonders for your mental health and self esteem. Without her, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with the job proposal.

She called your name with a gentle smile, “You ready?”

“Yep,” you smiled, walking over to step into the room. The blinds were closed tight but there were several lamps around the space that allowed a soft light to keep it illuminated. The wooden diffuser was pumping out the soothing smell of lemon and sandalwood. Dr. Beta had always said the lemon helped cut the potency of your powers but you weren’t sure if that was true or if it was something she said to make you feel better.

The two of you settled into your usual spots before the doctor asks, “Anything new since we last saw each other?”

It had been a month since your last session. The milestone of going monthly instead of bi-monthly had been huge for you. There was a time that you saw her weekly, which was when you were at your lowest. You were glad to be where you were.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh, leaning casually back on the leather couch. The cold material felt nice on the bare skin that peeked out from your denim shorts and athletic tank top. “I’ve been meeting regularly with three guys to run with them every Tuesday and Thursday. We also go out for drinks and the game on Sunday.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!” she gushed, genuinely excited for you. She even sat her clipboard and pen down to lean forward with her elbows on her knees. It was something she only did when you made some kind of...positive choice in your life. The way it made your chest swell with self pride was silly and kind of childish but the woman had always been extra motherly to you. “Clients?”

“One of them was,” you nod, trying to keep the flush of excitement from making you seem too eager. “They’re really nice guys and they invited me to start sparring with them next week after our runs.”

A gentle look crossed the doctor’s face that had you melting. It was a look that she gave when she was proud and the way your name came out of her mouth spoke volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she said aloud even though you knew it by her body language. “It’s been a long time since you took time for yourself in your personal life. Are they on your level of martial arts?”

“Better!” you said, excited to have a good challenge.

“Better than you?” she laughed, sounding incredulous. “I’d have to see that to believe it!” You join her for the laugh. “Anything else?”

Your mind flutters to a certain blond and his proposition but decide to keep that to yourself for now. It wasn’t good for you to hide secrets from Dr. Beta and you usually didn’t, however, she would definitely encourage you to take him up on the offer. You didn’t think you were ready to come up with reasons (lies) for why you couldn’t do that yet.

“Not really.”

She nods, grabbing her clipboard to flip the paper. “Dr. Noland said you were going to get your heat early this time around. She said you mentioned you might know why?”

Damn it. You forgot how much the two doctors communicated between each other about your health. It was the program you were in and, while amazingly helpful, could be very annoying at times. Case in point, now you need to make a choice on whether to point blank lie to Dr. Beta or just tell the truth. Lying by omission was much more your style.

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation. “The last client I helped had...intense pheromones. I think it may have kicked me into my heat cycle early.”

The doctor’s hazel eyes widened in shock, “Even with the suppressant you took?”

Nodding, you look away for a second. “The client was a super soldier,” you admit, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Understanding blossomed on her face when she made a guess as to who you were talking about. “Well, that might do it, for sure,” she nodded, making a note. “Still, I’m going to have Dr. Noland change your suppressant just in case it’s not working.”

She stood up, going over to the cabinet behind her desk. She took out a large bottle, tossing it to you, that had heat vitamins in them. Another bottle was thrown your way full of pills specifically for healthy slick production. The last thing she came over with were a few vouchers for omega-centric energy drinks and heat-snacks.

“I know you hate this question but I am legally required to ask,” she chuckles. “Do you have someone you trust to help you through your heat?”

You hesitate. “No.”

Her head snaps up, hazel eyes pinning you to the spot. “You hesitated. You never hesitate,” she points out with far too much excitement. She sets the clipboard down, doing the lean again. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag and now you couldn’t lie because she would never believe you now. “I was...propositioned,” you admit, feeling stupidly relieved that you had been honest with her. She had conditioned you so fucking well to feel better when you told the truth as opposed to lying. It had been a ‘bad coping mechanism’ you created during your childhood to gain some control of your otherwise uncontrollable life.

“By one of your new friends?” she asked, already getting the gist of the conversation. “Was it your client?”

“No, not my client but his...best friend,” you whisper, feeling a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation.

Dr. Beta is quiet for a moment, contemplating how to ask the question. “What’s the big deal then? Why not take him up on the offer?”

You cringe. “There are…a lot of reasons but I’m sure you’re going to make them seem like they’re not problems but things I’ve blown up in my mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You know your feelings and worries are valid! I just help you see things in a more logical light. I think you should really talk this through with him but...would you like to practice with me?”

You bite your lower lip but give a heavy sigh when you realize there’s still nearly forty minutes left of your time with her. “Fine. It can’t hurt.”

You sat in the booth twitching with your napkin. You and the owner were good friends from back in your academy days so he allowed you to pay a certain amount for the whole rooftop terrace. It meant you could enjoy a meal with someone without having to wear your suit. You also got the same female server every time who knew your situation and didn’t care.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you heard a familiar voice say to your left.

Not really sure why, you stood up when he approached. He was wearing a thin blue zip-up jacket over a blue and white plaid button up shirt that was unbuttoned enough for you to see the white t-shirt he had under it. His jeans were dark and fit far too well around his massive thighs. A plain blue ball cap sat on his head and some fake glasses to help hide his identity. The smile he gave you was enough to make your preheat brain purr.

It took you by surprise when his big arms wrapped you up in a hug that smothered you in his masculine scent. Your hands touched his back, hugging him hesitantly. The squeeze lasted a little longer than you expected, just enough for your head to be perfectly swimming in his pheromones.

You pulled away when he did, allowing him to sit at the far side of the table, facing towards the rest of the area. He had insisted that you come without your suit so it was the least you could do to keep the waitress from noticing his erection.

“It’s okay, I ordered some water for us,” you smile, genuinely happy to see him. It wasn’t often that you saw any of the three men individually. They usually hung out in a pack and you were happy to know that you fit into the group pretty well. “Get whatever you want, Steve. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a look. “I would prefer it if you let me pay.”

Your heart gave a hard thump in your chest. There was something about the way he said it that was just short of a command. You look into his blue eyes, trying to gauge his intent before setting down the menu. “Is this some old-fashioned pride I see leaking through?” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin.

“No, I just figure it was only right that I buy you lunch before helping you with your heat,” he said so casually it made your face heat.

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?!” you laugh loudly.

There is a knowing glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Alone?” he questioned easily, looking up just as Julia came to the table.

“Welcome back,” she greets you, setting two empty glasses and a pitcher of water down on the table. “My name’s Julia.”

“Nice to meet you Julia,” Steve responded with a neutral smile. It caught you a little off guard because it...definitely wasn’t the smile he gave you. Was it just part of his disguise?

You both ordered a beer and your entrees. It wasn’t until Julia walked away that you focused back on the alpha across from you. He was already looking at you with an intense expression. You feel like he’s basically prying into your soul.

“I...spoke with my therapist yesterday and…” you start, finding it very hard to talk about this kind of thing. It was so easy to soothe your clients but so hard to give yourself a break. “She...convinced me to talk with you about my...worries.”

His expression softens a bit. “I’m willing to work with you,” he soothes, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid. “Tell me everything.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of hurting you,” you blurt out. “You can take me even on your worst day. I’m...embarrassed to count myself among the small population of omegas that go...feral during their heat. I...fight my partner. Dr. Beta says it's because of the trauma I experienced. Trauma doesn't just disappear during heat...it gets worse. I’m just not the usual kind of docile omega that society seems to exemplify.”

He looks up to alert you that Julia was returning with your drinks. He didn’t speak until she was back inside the building. “Truthfully, I’m actually more intrigued than put off by the notion,” he finally said after taking a sip of his beer. “Do you fight the whole time or just in the beginning?”

It wasn’t a line of questioning that you expected so you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few seconds before finding your words. “I don’t...know,” you admit sheepishly, sipping your hard cider. “I’ve only been with one alpha during my heat and he had to go to the hospital a few hours into it.”

Something dark and tempting flashed through the blond’s eyes. “How do you feel about restraints?”

Your core throbbed at the simple question. It probably showed on your face because his smile started to widen in understanding. “Yes, that’s fine,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about the implications.

“Would you prefer to do this at your house or in my suite?” he asked as if you had already agreed to the whole thing.

Your mind screamed at you to say decline. It was dangerous and there were so many things that could go wrong. Your omega brain though had already bought into the whole thing. You wanted this big, powerful alpha to hold you down and take you in the most forceful of ways. You wanted him to restrain you to your nest and have his way with you until the heat fog cleared.

“Wait, wait,” you say, trying to finish your thoughts before deciding anything. “I’m serious when I say I’m insatiable. I don’t have any refractory period between one wave and the next.”

Julia opens the door, alerting you both that she was coming out with food. You both wait until everything is set and she walks away before continuing. The food smells delicious so you grab the burger and bite into it. You always craved red meat before your heat so when the flavors burst across your taste buds, you hum in appreciation.

Steve took a few bites of his own meal before responding. “The super soldier serum makes it so I don’t have any refractory period,” he shrugs casually with a smile. “I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me so...I’m interested to see if you can. Any other worries?”

Heat blossoms across your cheek and in your chest. “I don’t want our friendship to be jeopardized,” you finally admit after finishing half of your burger. You grab some of the fries and eat them while thinking.

“Did helping Bucky keep you from being friends with him?”

“No, of course not,” you sigh, running out of excuses. Dr. Beta had been right, talking with him had definitely made you a little more comfortable with the idea. “Fine, okay, I accept your offer.”

“My place or yours?” he asks with a genuine smile.

You mull over the question for a bit before shrugging. “I have all of my nesting supplies at my house so we can do it at mine,” you chuckle, feeling a little nervous but excited too.

He nods. “Do I need to bring any supplies? Snacks or drinks?”

The two of you continue talking about the logistics of your heat while you finish the food. It makes you feel a lot better knowing you wouldn’t have to go through with it alone. You had already taken the initiative to send a message to all of your clients to let them know you would be out for your heat. You even went ahead and took an extra week just for yourself.

After you pay and you have your layers back on, the two of you stand outside the doors to the restaurant. You don’t want to leave him, truthfully. He smelt so good and you were so close to your heat that it was hard to separate from him. “Thanks for talking with me,” you smile despite the bonnet covering everything but your eyes. “I’ll give you a text when I’m ready.”

“Of course, thanks for lunch,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead through the layers. “Here, take this for your nest.”

He shucked his jacket and offered it. Your hand reaches out to take it slowly. “Thanks but this might just push me into it faster,” you laugh brightly, holding the large jacket close to your chest. You could smell the scent of him even through all of your layers. It made your head foggy.

“That’s the idea,” he smirked, turning towards the tower with a wave. “Just let me know when you want me to come over.”

You watch him walk away, eyes lingering on the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt and down until you stared at his toned ass in those jeans. It was obvious how close you were to your heat when sweat started to form along your temples and slick started to dampen your panties.

Once you got back home, you arranged your snacks and vitamins on the counter so they were easy for Steve to find. He might need to feed you for the first few waves because you weren’t sure if you’d be coherent or not. Then you went into your extra bedroom that you used for your heats and started getting it ready.

You pulled out all of your slick-resistant pillows, cushions and blankets from the closet to make a nest on your king sized bed. It was a nice four post bed that had your mind in dark places. All you could think about was being restrained with cuffs around one of those posts while Steve fucked into you.

It didn’t take long before you needed a pad for all of the fucking slick that was making everything so annoying. The nest took a lot longer that you would like to admit because it just didn’t seem...right. You’d never had this kind of issue before but your omega brain wanted Steve to be comfortable and happy too.

Looking back at the closet, you debated on whether or not you wanted to pull out the box of toys. You weren’t sure if Steve would want them or need them or…

“Fuck it,” you mutter, grabbing your phone to send the alpha a quick text. Toys or no toys?

You were adding his jacket to your nest when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Instead of the one or two word answer that you expected, it was...something else.

Definitely toys. I’ll enjoy teasing you until you’re begging for my knot.

Fuckin’ hell! Was this the same blond with the surprisingly boyish face that you had met during lunch today? The same guy that Sam teased about being an old virgin?

You didn’t think the pad was going to hold up to all of the slick that gush from you at the text. How does one respond to a text like that? You grabbed out the delicate pink box out of the closet, wincing at the color because it was the only color that the shop had to store your toys. Omegas were feminine right?! They liked pink, right?!

Laughing at yourself, you set the box on the little table in the room. You opened the lid and set it to the side so you could look at your assortment of toys. It was a collection you started when your first heat hit you at sixteen. You had been a late bloomer because of your constant martial arts training, which stilted your omega hormones.

It had all the necessities and even some extras. You had your typical knot dildo, a vibrator, a clit vibe, a few different types of condoms for when you weren’t in your heat, a bottle of lube that encouraged slick production, a bottle of regular lube, and a few different sized anal plugs. The last few were just because you enjoyed the feeling of being full when having sex.

Quickly you took a picture of the box and sent it to Steve as a reply. It was the best you could come up with. You had never really been good at those kinds of things. Well, you’d never had someone try and sext you.

Happy that everything was prepared, you cuddled under your fuzzy blanket in your nest. Comfort flooded through you as you nuzzled into the man’s jacket, deeply taking in his scent. It was nice and musky and made you feel warm and safe.

The phone buzzed. You’re okay with anal during your heat?

Your pheromone idled brain made you giggle, “Consent is important,” before you could text him back. Yes, I like being stuffed full.

It didn’t even register how inappropriate the text sounded before you hit send. You were obviously a lot further along than you had previously thought. The subtle throb of your core was starting to get worse but you weren’t too far gone to see his last text.

Good to know. Get some rest. Need me to come out and check on you before dark?

You groaned as a cramp hit your pelvis, slick becoming an issue. It simultaneously hurt and felt good. You were so distracted that you couldn’t answer the text message. Everything was suddenly too hot so you threw off your clothing, slipping your hand down to brush against your clit. It was already so sensitive it hurt but you needed relief.

It wasn’t enough and you knew that it would be futile to try and get yourself off with just your fingers but your brain wasn’t working. You groaned helplessly as the lackluster orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t enough, so frustratingly not enough. Sweat dripped down your cheek from your hairline making you kick off the blanket so you could turn over.

You didn’t care how it looked with your ass up because the scent of Steve on the jacket helped clear your head a little. It made your core throb but it also helped you become coherent. Enough so that you grabbed the phone and typed in a one word response that only said:

Now.

Credits for the pictures in Moodboard:

Unsplash photographers:

1. Kelly Sikkema

2. Vulkan Olmez

3. Toa Heftiba

Like, comment and reblogs are always welcome! Thanks for reading!

[stevenbasic]

By Tuesday afternoon, I was beside myself. Seeing patients again, but distraught. The office was a hot mess - so many new girls, crowding the hallways and desks, mostly being trained by people who also didn’t know what they were doing. My schedule was a hot mess - they’d overbooked me, with all the patients I was supposed to see the day before but had been rescheduled. And my mind was a hot mess - surrounded by not only all these new women (I’d kept my head down, sneaking into my office between patients when I could, and hadn’t really introduced myself to anyone yet) but also by the din of construction and random dudes walking down the hallways from time to time...

For some reason the presence of guys - mostly strapping young men in hard hats and t-shirts - upset me more than the bustle of bimbos giggling and pointing at me as I snuck from patient to patient. Maybe I was imagining it, but they seemed to look at me funny, askance, with a condemnatory eye. In particular I’d seen that one with the shaved head and tattoos, the tall one who’d disappeared with Melissa from the parking lot this morning. He was the one hanging around the most, glaring at me snidely. It was jealousy, I knew, that was tightening my chest whenever I saw him - an unreasonable reaction, not an emotion I should be feeling; Melissa was not mine to covet. But when, right around lunchtime, I saw the door to Melissa’s office open and him get pulled inside? Well, my blood began to roil. She’d made no effort to see me all day, and now this??

What were they doing in there?? Would she be having him take more pictures of her for Instagram? Would she be changing into new outfits for her followers, bikinis and lingerie? Would he be bending her over her desk and-

I knew I was being crazy, jealous, stupid. I had no reason to suspect any of this. But still I couldn’t stand it. So, finally, I broke. Right around 3pm.

“Can you tell Melissa I need to see her in my office?” I told Aubrey. She was standing behind the front desk with Brittni and Bobbi and three new people, training. It was pretty crowded back there.

“Of course, Doctor,” said the slight, pretty girl with the dark, pixie haircut. Aubrey had always been one of my best, most loyal employees. Quiet, serious when she needed to be. Less flighty for sure than most of the women that worked for me now. Take, for example, Brittni and Bobbi and now I guess these three new ones that I recognized from their jiggly applications; they were all looking at me and quietly giggling. Aubrey - since our front desk manager had left - was trying to get everyone trained. Piles of paperwork were everywhere.

“Okay I’ll head there right away,” I said, turning on my heel and knocking over a mound of charts from the counter.

“Don’t worry Doctor I’ll get that…” Aubrey offered, as I quickly moved away. Snickers followed in my wake.

Finding the hallway that led to my office mostly quiet, I turned a corner and -

“Oh, therrrre you are!” Melissa beamed, stopping me in my tracks. I felt my eyes go wide and my heart leap into my throat. I hadn’t really seen her since Friday and I was struck again by just how tall she was. Heels, yes, but my head came just up to her upper chest, if that. She made me feel smaller, in spades, than even the biggest of the construction workers.

She took a step towards me.

“Hey, uh….m-m-my office?” I stammered, trying to direct her but unable to keep my eyes from a quick trip up and down her unbelievable figure. The red heels, the sleek, bell-cuffed black pants, the tight, high-necked top. The hair, the eyes, and those knockers.

“Why don’t we talk here?” she returned, stepping in again closer to me.

I took a backpedal in retreat, turned my back to the wall. My eyes went wide again as she planted her right hand on the wall behind me, just above my head, between me and where I’d been heading. The door to my office was just steps away to my left, but now it might have been a mile. “o-okay, sure…” I yielded.

“So happy you finally want to say hi,” she said, with her left hand now coming up at my other side, placing itself just aside my head on the right. Now I was trapped, penned in, faced with a wall of woman. “I’ve missed youuuu…”

I swallowed dryly, suddenly assaulted with a barrage of feelings and a heady cloud of her captivating perfume. “Oh? Uh, y-yeah, haha, sorry,” I started, beginning to explain my absence, “I’ve been out of it. It’s, uh...all the construction, the noise. Kept me up last night, I’m exhausted…”

“Oh you poor thing…” she cooed, her smile turning crooked, weight shifting on her feet. Her right leg had bent, knee pushing in aggressively towards my groin. “I’m sorrrry…”

I couldn’t help but feel like I’d been captured, and she was possesively trifling with me - here, out in the open, in the hallway where anyone could see. But, from my position, I also couldn’t help but notice how her bra was just visible through her too-tight top, and that her breasts looked enormous today.

“uhhhhh….” I tried, struggling to remember what I’d wanted to talk to her about in the first place. Oh yeah.  “...and now they’re all milling around here. I saw, uh...one guy go into your office, earlier?”

“AJ? Oh...yeah, Angie’s ex,” Melissa explained, eyes narrowing, “She’s one of the new girls, a friend of mine, just broke up with him. He’s pretty upset. I invited him in for lunch...”

“Oh, uh, lunch?”

“Yes,” Melissa answered, a funny tone in her voice, “He bought a salad for me.”

Of course she’d like someone like him. He’s tall, strong, pretty good looking. He’s closer to her age...

Melissa looked down at me, regarded me, watched me thinking. “What’s wrong?” she finally asked.

“I...I don’t like him,” I too quickly answered, glancing down at the safety of my feet, speaking before thinking, “He...he looks at me funny.”

“Ohhhhhh….is that it?” She sounded amused.

I couldn’t tell her that, no, that wasn’t it, really. The sideways glances from these dudes I could handle. What I was struggling with, what I couldn’t tell her, was that he made me so fucking jealous. No way I could admit that, not to her. It would be weak, sniveling, petty and unprofessional. Plus I was married, still, and needed to hide my feelings for my new Office Manager deep deep deep. I could not let Melissa know how jealous I was.

But, when I looked up into her face, and she leaned down in to bring her face closer to mine, I could tell she saw right through me...

“Do they scare you? The big scary construction workers?” she giggled, teasing me, “Do they make you feel...unsafe? They are all so much bigger than you...” Overhead, one of the fluorescent lights flickered.

“Melissa, c’mon,” I pleaded, sounding much more pathetic than I wanted. I could tell she knew how I really felt, that it was my unreasonable jealousy that was making me upset. That fact? She loved it. But that I was denying it? For that, she wanted to torture me a bit.

“Awww did you hear that ladies?” Melissa called out, to the tall forms that had just started to appear in the hallway behind her, the voices I had begun to hear, “Dr. J here doesn’t like having all the big, noisy men in the building…”

Suddenly, two other girls appeared aside Melissa, one on each side. My eyes shot from one, redhead and statuesque in a blue top, to the other, chocolate-skinned and bosomy, dressed in green. Both were tall, taller than me, I couldn’t help but realize.

“I agree, I don’t like it either,” said the girl to Melissa’s left.

“Me neither,” said the other, “We should get rid of them…”

“Then it’d be just us…” the dark skinned girl replied.

“Dr. J,” Melissa said, in introduction, “this is Bianca…”

“Hi,” said the girl in blue, inching closer.

“...and this is Shanette.”

“Hi,” said the one in green, stepping in as well.

If I had been faced by a wall of woman before, it had now been fortified. Everywhere I looked, it was boob.

One of the overhead lights flickered again.

“We don’t like tall men, do we girls?” Melissa asked.

“Big guys? Yuckie,” followed Shanette.

“Yeah, gross,” said Bianca, her voice a natural purr, “We like our men short…”

“Helpless…”  cued Shanette, biting her plump lower lip as she looked down at me.

“...weak…” smiled Bianca.

“...needy,” Shanette finished.

By now, the three girls had me all but plastered to the wall. Melissa did nothing but smile down at me, apparently enjoying every moment of my well-deserved distress as these new girls soaked me in. Finally, though, she spoke. “See? No reason to be jealous, Doctor J-“

“I wasn’t jeal-“

“...it’s like I’ve been telling you,” she continued, speaking right over me, “It’s the thing. Girls want their men vulni these days, and you…”

“You are- rrrrrrrrrrr….” Bianca...growled?

“...you’re perfect,” Shanette giggled.

“And, no reason to be scared, sweetie,” Melissa assured me, though the current situation - I felt like I was about to be squashed into a girl sandwich - gave me more than enough to be frightened about, “You don’t have to worry about the big, mean men.”

“We’ll keep you safe,” Bianca promised, her eyes gleaming with portent, “don’t you give it another thought.”

“We’re all here to take care of you,” Shanette cooed, her expression growing softer by the moment, “it’s all we want…”

Unsure of what to say, I looked from one girl, to the other, and then back to Melissa. She merely smiled, closed her eyes to take a deep breath, and then opened them again as she spoke. “You see, sweetie? You see what kind of girls I hired for you?” she said, and leaned in to whisper down into my ear, “I did such a good job…”

Her melony breasts squashed into my neck, her voice in my ear.

“...won’t you just accept that?”

===========================

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[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inspired partially by the twitter trend of The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It and just in time for Valentine’s Day! 

Gender Neutral Reader Insert. 

Enjoy my masterlist!

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__________________________

While sitting in the car, you watch out the window. Folks buzz around you--some folks looking content, strolling about their day. Others are flitting around, a bit of crease in their forehead. And you feel for them. You know those days where there’s just not enough hours in the day to get it all done. Or it’s when one thing sets off a spiral of all terrible things. Or when you just don’t wake up on the right side of the bed. You know that crease all too well because currently you were having a bad sleeping week. 

You were getting tired when you were supposed to but the second you put your head on the pillow your brain was hot wired--keeping you up with all the things you needed to do, hadn’t done, all the appointments you had kept pushing off. It was finding the littlest things to find that anxiety and keep you staring up at the ceiling. Calum noticed the tossing and turning and tried his best to lull you to sleep this week, fixing you tea in the evening, getting you off your phone or laptop a couple hours before bed. He even started reading to you, but your ears picked up on the white noise of everything in the house. Your brain picked up the embarrassing memory that you hadn’t even considered in decades and now holding it in front of your mind’s eye for hours on end during the week. 

Like right now, you should’ve been at home sleeping. Your work was giving you a long weekend and you really could’ve used the time to catch some extra Z’s, but you were, admittedly, a little scared to stay home. Sure maybe you did fall asleep cuddled up next to Duke. But you worried that you’d stay up, worry yourself sick some more so when Calum told you he had some errands to run you immediately tagged along. The time running around would hopefully tire you out enough that when you got home you could actually fall asleep. 

So after Calum’s personal training session in the morning, which you sort of tagged along for, but mostly went through your own routine and getting a solid breakfast, you two were now buzzing around from store to store. Calum had gotten most of the grocery the other day, but he forgot a couple things so your first objective was to grab those and bring them back up. He then had to go to the post office to mail out his mother’s birthday cards and a few other things. 

While in the line at the post office, your head tucked into his back, Calum got a phone call from a guitar shop on the other side of time about a new model that had just come in. Calum had been eying it for ages, but he didn’t want to be reckless with his money especially after getting some work on his teeth and to the house. So he asked the guitar shop to keep an eye out for when more stock arrived in case it sold out before Calum felt comfortable spending a large sum of money like that again. 

The store agreed to set one off to the side for him and could keep it on hold until the end of the day. Which was perfect--still gave the two of you time to get lunch. You didn’t need to get anything, didn’t need to do anything. But even after lunch, Calum made one more pit stop. Here now at the gas station, you sit peering through the windshield and can see a mother with her two sons walking from the doors. They boys hold brightly colored icees in their hand, each clutching a bag field with goodies. 

You aren’t entirely sure whey Calum needed to stop here for anything. It’s not like he needed stamps, since he got those at the post office. He hadn’t pulled in to get gas. Lunch had been filling, though you tried not to stuff yourself too much just because you knew that on a long car ride, the last thing you wanted to do was be uncomfortably full. 

The door opens again, Calum strutting through with his glasses covering his eyes and resting comfortably atop the chubby cheeks. Barely hanging from the crook of his fingers is a brown plastic bag. The doors click open and he climbs into the driver seat. The guitar shop wasn’t that far, but today seemed to be a busy day on the road. Took you all too long just to get to the grocery store this morning. 

“Snacks?”

“Was craving something sweet after lunch.” 

You peer into the bag as he hands it over to you. Some gummy bears, gum, a bar or two of chocolate you can’t quite tell. You set it onto the floor at your feet. “Let me know when you want something.” But he’s already tearing into a Twix bar when you glance at him. “Or not,” you laugh. 

“The other stuff is for you--if you want to indulge. Can’t forget ya,” he pushes the glasses down for just a moment to wink at you and then looks into the rearview mirror. 

“Do you think you’re going to get this one?” you asks as the SUV rolls out from the parking lot and onto the asphalt of the highway. 

“Hmm, maybe. Gotta see how it feels first.”

You nod at his question, resting your head into the cushion of the seat. And it goes quiet for a while. The radio plays softly in the background, and every so often the packaging crinkles as Calum downs more of the chocolate and caramel treat. 

“Valentine’s Day is coming up soon,” Calum states, while paused in a bit of traffic. “Got any ideas on what you want to do for it?”

You think for a moment. Valentine’s Day has never been your thing--being perpetually single does that to a person. “Restaurants are going to be a nightmare.”

“Yeah, they will be.” Another crinkle comes from the right side of the car and then his arm reaches behind your seat, finding the small bag of trash you stash there--though you have to be careful when Duke sits in the backseat. Generally though, he doesn’t mess with too much. “My mom sent me a recipe of hers. It’s really good.”

“I’d be down for cooking.”

“Nothing else? Don’t wanna go sky diving? Give me another heart attack?”

You laugh thinking about the first birthday you spent with Calum together as a couple. “You didn’t die.”

“But I did almost shit myself.”

“You can play on stage to thousands of people, but no, jumping from a plane is a no-go.”

“Yes, because I am a sane human.”

You huff out a small tuft of laughter and turn to look at him. One hand on the wheel with the stainless steel linked chain dangling from his wrist. His other arm is resting against the door, gently tapping out a beat with his long slender fingers. “Do you want to do anything?”

“Valentine’s Day,” he scoffs. “How long have we been dating? When have I ever been dying to do anything on some random day in February.” His statement doesn’t fall venomously from his mouth. He even looks over to you with a smile. “I don’t need one day out of 365 to declare my love for someone.”

And it’s true. While Calum wasn’t super accepting of love from new people, while it took you months to show Calum that you were trustworthy and not someone to keep at an arm’s length, once he cracked open, he oozed adoration and love for people. And you knew it was a defense mechanism. You knew that when someone did care as hard as Calum did it wouldn’t always be an easy thing to win over. 

Calum, when he finally let someone one, loved hard. It could be a random Tuesday in July or a Sunday in February, and he would make sure his love was known. He never needed a special occasion to send flowers, to cook dinner, to offer to drive you to doctors appointments because he knew that sometimes you got too nervous or flustered by them to drive but did manage to push through if absolutely necessary. He’d easily pick up some gloves and an extra sponge if he saw you wiping down the walls in the kitchen or wiping through the counter. He kept fridge cleaning days marked on the calendar. And when you added reminders to wash bed sheets to the shared one, he also include rest breaks for you too. 

Calum had never needed someone to force him to show appreciation. 

“I mean, there is the option to literally do nothing on Valentine’s Day. Like treat it as any other day.”

“That’s still something,” he countered, turning on his signal and switching out from the middle lane. His exit was approaching in another mile and a half. 

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh. “We can’t cease to exist that day. Bare minimum we need to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide.”

Calum laughs softly, showing some of his teeth too. “Fair, fair. There’s another Netflix documentary coming out, true crime one. I forget what it’s fully about, but I think it’s about a serial killer if you’d be down to start it then?”

“When would I ever turn down the opportunity to be a detective with you?”

“You haven’t yet,” he states with laughter in his voice. 

“And I never will.” The ramp takes the two of you down and down and soon you’re winding through streets and not too far you can see the shopping center coming into view. He pulls into the lot of the shop and the two of you step out in unison. 

The bell above the door chimes as he opens it for you and you smile often in your thanks. “Hey, Calum!” one of the guys at the register calls out. The store is fairly empty. But you’re not shocked on a Tuesday afternoon. 

“Hey, Derek. How’s it going?” Calum heads directly over to the counter and you look up to the left wall, at the records on display.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the second guy states to you, “or if you want to see anything.” He’s younger than Derek, both look to be equally tattooed from the pieces that peek out from the short sleeve work shirts, but his face is significantly brighter. 

“Thanks,” you return and go back to the displays. You can hear Calum and Derek chatting but slowly tune it out, make it background noise to the music playing through the speakers. 

You turn to walk towards the back where more instruments sit and you can see Calum leaning into the glass display of the counter. The palms of his hand pressed into the metal edge. The sunglasses sit on top of his head and you notice the younger guy glancing over at you again.

He nods again and then goes back to his computer. Nothing else is said. And you look over the stringed instruments, ukuleles, some violins and then you spin around again, done with that lap and go to head up to Calum. “See anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “You’re the musically talented one. I just nod and smile when you talk about it.”

Derek returns, a case in hand. He comes out from the hinged doors that separate the sales floor from the registers and back of the store. You scoot a little closer to the display as the case is transferred over. Calum takes it easily heading to the corner you just abandoned to sit and check out the instrument. It’s a beautiful deep green, almost reminds you of the thick Washington forest. The body is slender. 

“That’s a pretty cool color,” you note, watching Calum work his fingers over the frets. 

He grins up at you. “Think so?” You give another nod. He doesn’t inspect it long before you can see the desire to give in crosses his face. 

Derek’s standing close by and you turn to him and keep your voice as close to a whisper as you can while still being heard. “What’s a bass like that cost?”

He rattles off the price, one eyebrow slightly raised over the other. You know Calum will riot--he’ll pitch a fucking fit. But you reach into your wallet and slide out your card. You had been saving--for a year. You wanted to do something big for Calum. You just didn’t know what it was yet specifically though you had some ideas, a bass was top of the list.  But you didn’t want to try and go out and buy a bass without consulting him, without getting an understanding of what he liked. You thought about maybe a really good leather jacket and some more boots. He loved the ones he had, wore them as much as he could. 

And when you mentioned possibly getting him more, he told you the ones he had were still in good shape. Calum wasn’t the type to just buy clothes to buy them. He indulged here and there, but always made a point to wear something he had down before replacing it. You’d tease the subject a couple more times after that, but he never took the bait and you weren’t going to force him into a thing he didn’t want or need. 

But it’s clear to you that this is something he wants. But he’ll tussle with himself and never give in on it. It’s pricer than you thought it would be. But you too were being smart, having finally paid off the last of your car, you start moving those payments to savings and it helped a great deal. You were fine. You get insurance and the whole deal as Derek advises. By the time you slide the receipt back across the counter, Calum comes back to the registers. “I appreciate you holding it for me, man. But I don’t think I can right now.”

Derek looks at you and you look down into the glass. “It’s--it’s yours, dude.”

“What?” Calum breathes behind you. 

“They-uh, they paid for it,” Derek says, nodding at you.

You can feel the heat in your body now and spin around to face Calum in a rush. “Consider it a not Valentine’s Day gift.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Ever since I finished paying off my car, I saved the payments to do something nice for you. Didn’t know what it was going to be for sure. But I know you, Calum. You’d want something and tell yourself no. I mean you can treat yourself sometimes.”

“You-you didn’t?” His eyes are rapidly blinking, head shaking like he doesn’t want to believe you. Like he can’t believe you as his mouth mumbles out, “No,” repeatedly. 

“It’s yours,” you nod. “It’s really yours.”

If it weren’t for the weight of the bass, you’re sure Calum would’ve tipped over, maybe even rushed to Derek to hand the case back over, but instead he’s weighed down, chained to this spot in the blue speckled carpet of the store, still repeating, “No,” softly. 

“‘I hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have to find space in your office for it now. Because I refuse to return it.” You step forward, find the handle and slip your hands around it taking it from Calum. A small grunt leaves you and then you start to the door, throwing a thanks to Derek. 

The lights to the SUV blink and you can hear the locks clicking open as you push open the door to the store. “Wait--what are you doing?” Calum asks. 

“Open the trunk please,” you ask. 

“Let me do it,” he demands, stepping in close to take the case with the bass now. “What the fuck did you do? Baby, this is expensive.”

“It’s not a Valentine’s Day gift,” you answer again. “Because I love you. On a random Tuesday.”

He gets the instrument safely into the trunk and then closes it, watching dumbly as you climb into the passenger side. He walks to the driver seat and climbs in, taking you gently by the chin. “That was absolutely reckless and unnecessary-- ”

“I am just absolutely reckless and unnecessary then,” you counter, “because I’m not returning it.”

“--but thank you. Thank you so much,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Then it’s silent, as the two of your gaze at each other, watching what could almost be tears well in his eyes, but they don’t fall. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a person like you, but whatever it was, I’m glad I did it.”

“I’m glad you did it too.” The two of you return home, Duke rushing to the front door as the two of you step through it. Calum safely places the bass in his music room/office and returns shortly after to help you decide on what to order for dinner. 

As the two of you settle onto the couch, Calum takes your hand and presses a kiss to teach knuckle. “I’m gonna teach you how to play.”

“You know we’ve done this before.”

“And you were good at it.”

“I was alright at it.”

“It’ll be your bass,” he whispers. 

“I bought it for you,” you return tossing your head back to look at him. 

He kisses your lips. “Yeah, but it’ll be the one that I teach you to play for real one and it’ll be yours--just as much as it is mine.”

“A true sap,” you laugh, but nod and return your focus back to the TV. 

In the week that follows, Calum makes sure to take an hour in the evenings to set you down and pick up on the lessons. They fizzled out as work for the both of you picked up. But now things are a bit more calm. He sits next to you, assessing what you remember from last time and correcting finger placements as needed, but they go smoothly. 

When Valentine’s Day does come, Calum pulls you back into bed for just five more minutes of sleep. And five minutes turns into half an hour. But finally you two pull yourself out from the sheets, figure out what to do in the midmorning that results in food being consumed and then you slowly gravitate towards different sections of the house. 

There’s still a bit of laundry to be done and Calum takes Duke out for just a little bit. The two of you migrate back together by mid afternoon. He finds you making a quick lunch and presses a kiss to your cheek. You turn to face him, squeezing at his. “I bought some face masks,” he offers. “Care to join me in doing the bare minimum of converting oxygen into carbon dioxide after your lunch?”

“Don’t see how I could pass up such a wonderful offer? You want anything?” He shakes head, mentioning grubbing on some of the leftovers earlier while you took a nap. 

With your lunch done and the plates cleaned, you find Calum in the bedroom and let him know you’re ready for the face masks. He shuffles to the bathroom. “I hope I got the right one for you,” he mutters. “I got them forever ago it feels, so who the hell knows what I got.” His laughter is soft as he rummages through the bins under the skin. 

“I’ll be in the office,” you tell him and he nods, still pulling bins out. You settle into the couch and spy the green bass still on the stand from yesterday. You pull it into your lap and sling your arm over it. The amp next to you is off, you know but you still pluck away at it as if it were on. 

Calum shuffles in a few minutes later. “Um, babe. It’s off.”

You don’t reply but do look up. He holds up three different packages. “Here’s to hoping one of these is worthwhile.” You place your bass back to the stand and take one that sounds like one you’re okay with using. Calum hands you a towel so you can wipe your fingers off after you get it placed onto your face. He helps get it right and then you help him with his and the two of you slip onto the couch, legs entangled and leaning into opposite ends of the couch.

You laugh at Calum’s story as you scroll mindless through app after app. In the boredom you snap a picture of Calum with the face masks on and don’t think too much of it, saving it to the album with all the silly and cute photos of him are--there are tons. 

“I mean the sun is a star. Though the ones we see have been dead for a long time.”

Calum taps your leg with his foot. “It was a simple question--to be the sun or the stars. I didn’t ask for this philosophical crisis.”

“Why would it not weigh in your decision! If you’re a star like the ones we see at night, you’re technically already dead. You wanna be dead?” You huff, sitting up. 

“I mean, no, but c’mon.”

“It’s a valid thing to consider, that’s all I’m saying!”

He laughs. “Okay, sun or the moon?”

“You first,” you return and just then your alarm on your phone goes off. The two of you shuffle back to the bathroom and take off the masks. 

“Moon, maybe,” he counters. 

You nod. “Fitting. When should we get started on that recipe of your moms? Is it super involved?”

“Nah, it’s pretty easy. Normal time should be good. I’m going to read outside if you want to join.”

“Maybe in a bit.”

Calum nods, grabbing his book as he passes through the bedroom and the patter of Duke’s claws follow behind him. You go back to the music room, turn on the amp and then actually play a little something. It’s nothing fancy--just the arrangement you put together with Calum as a practice exercise once. You play it for a bit, adding a little flair. When you phone rings, you pause to answer it. You wouldn’t normally, but the number looks semi recognizable so you answer it. 

It’s just a scam call and you hang up but then notice some other notifications. Before you realize it, you’re deep into Twitter. You’ve run across the trend of people posting pictures of themselves and their significant others with the caption, The Face Vs The Face Sitting On It. It made you laugh just a little bit at first. And then you kept going down the rabbit hole. Some are silly, most are good pictures. 

While it’s not exactly secret that you and Calum are dating, you two don’t post too much. Calum isn’t incline to post on social media in the first place and while you use it a bit more than him, you try not to post too much about him out of respect. However, as you look tap on quote retweet and bring up your photos you think maybe one silly post wouldn’t hurt. So you grab the one of him recently with the face masks and then one of yourself--it’s silly too, a little blurry too in the darkness that it was taken in. 

You hit post and watch the likes come in. Then keep scrolling. Eventually you have to put the bass away and peel yourself from the couch to find Calum and see if he’s hungry enough for dinner. Just as you round the corner to the office, you spy him stepping through the glass sliding backdoor. “Hungry?” you ask. 

He nods, “Yeah.”

The two of you, with Duke trotting ahead, make your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. “You’re funny,” he states, washing his hands first. 

“Thank you. I’ll be here until you kick me out.”

He laughs. “No, the pictures you posted. On Twitter.”

You’re shocked that he noticed it that fast. Normally it took him a bit longer to see silly stuff like that. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah. What I hope you don’t mind is my reply.”

At first you’re nervous. Calum could’ve gone one of two ways--super silly and broke out even worse photos of you possibly not sober or he went super on trend with it and pulled out a photo of you done up for a date night. Not that you preferred one over the other, but sometimes you liked to keep your relationship light on social media. It was easier that way. There wasn’t any real pressure that way. Though the fans seemed to have enjoyed it when you posted more posed and serious content. 

You liked to keep it a bit more real. You and Calum didn’t do the whole nine yards a lot--you two were normal people who hated getting out of bed some days and went as well into the afternoon before showering at times and walked Duke and went to doctor’s appointments like everyone does. So you always opted for a bit of a joke, a silly Tweet or photo whenever you could. 

“What did you post?” you ask. 

He shrugs, taking up the knife to dice the onion. “I’m not telling you.”

You glance at the printed out recipe and get a pan on the aisle over medium heat before pulling out your phone. As you load the app, you listen to the snap of the knife fitting the wooden cutting board. You type Calum’s name and tap onto his profile. 

While there’s is silly--I do want to take a moment to show off my favorite person in the world. So here we go, The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It. Below is attached a picture of him--you snapped while you two were out for lunch one day. The black t-shirt tight around his biceps as he slyly grins into the camera. The lights in the background are just barely in focus of the resturant and Calum’s glancing out of the window next to him. You remember that you were recording him, or at least you thought you were, and told him that he was handsome. Not the first time, but everytime he did, he blushed and turn away. And you captured it here too. 

The photo of you is actually one with him in it. The guys got together and did a big family dinner and the two of you posed at Crystal’s request in the slightly matching outfits. You hadn’t intended to match--though black was a staple in both your wardrobes. You were a bit different thanks to the pop of color in your shoes, but in the lighting of the street lamp, you had to admit that you did look hot. The first couple of  buttons on your shirt you were undone and with your hands tucked into the pockets, you looked like you owned shit. 

“While I hoped that you’d go with something more silly, I will take this,” you finally say. 

“That picture is literally my background for a reason,” he returns. 

You kiss his cheek and then trace over the stubble with your teeth to his ear. “Can I make a reservation for tonight?”

“The table is reserved for you literally at all times,” he returns in a breathe. 

“Good,” you laugh and then glance back to the recipe. 

[nekasu]

SnapCube’s Until Dawn Real-Time Fandub Sentence Starters (Part 1)

"I didn't bring my phone. It was in my other pants!" "This is a really long high five." "...I won't tell anyone about this." "Ya see, that's a joke thinger." "Can you see me? Don't answer that." "Who talks to screens? Maybe you can." "We're here in a strange time at a strange place." "Hopefully you enjoyed whatever the hell THIS video was." "When those girls died? That was funny." "My phone still has battery? Holy shit, I gotta keep that warm." "I'm trying to get like 100% on Animal Crossing." "Check it out, I have this gun. It's really really cool." "Are you McCree from Overwatch, hit video game?" "Make sure you don't shoot any guys with that." "Never mind, I do have the key. I just found it in my pocket." "We're all just really good beans at the end of the day." "Why did you hit me? That hurt so much!" "Sorry, I've been in jail a while." "My arm really hurts. Do you have any first aid?" "I just got off the big train in the sky." "This is my Smash invitation and frankly, I deserve it." "It was gonna be a surprise for your birthday, motherfucker!" "Jesus, everyone is so rude. What is this, Rude Mountain?" "This mountain fucking sucks." "I'm here to be rude to people." "I think this is sus. He's definitely the impostor." "As a gamer, I know all about Among Us." "Is this...Tamriel?" "Well, that's a cliff." "No, you got arms!" "I don't speak corn." "Grab my stinky hand!" "I will live on in the vibes!" "No, that's too fast! Oh, god!" "2x4? You're not even a 1x1." "You look so stupid right now." "Hehe, I'm under the bed now!" "It was for a prank video. Come on!" "It's fine, honestly. She has a blanket." "Women never listen to me when I talk..." "Everything's a big deal when you make it." "Oh my god she has pants! What the fuck?!" "No one told me I was wearing pants today!" "It's pretty cold because it's DEAD of winter!" "Hey, tree! Look at me, I'm looming right now!" "Not a blanket, but maybe I can keep you warm." "This fuckin' candle doesn't keep me warm at all.” "At least you're not calling it 'arm pants' this time." "Oh, wow! SHE'S looming! Oh, she can teach me!" "I don't want to play any of your Among Us games." "I have this weird feeling someone's looming around here." "Answer a question for me: how are you feeling today? YEAH!" "Well now, wise guy. Let's see who among us really is the funniest." "Helloooo there! I am Doctor Rabbit. The world's only rabbit rabbit." "Whoa, that guy was straight up looming! I wish I could loom like that.” "Was that that Anus Unnus guy?" "Hey, babe, you wanna go and record a blog with me?" "So are my pranks as good as Markiplier?" "Wait, when did they get the hugging perk?!" "See, that's what I think of your problems, is that they're just some sort of joke." "Got in real trouble with the locals, I did. They don't let me back there." "Maybe you're just trying to be woke or something." "Your insurance isn't covering these sessions, by the way." "We can send, like, aura to each other. You know like, uh, vibes." "I don't guess, I know. I never guess, I know everything. I do the math." "Two plus two equals you're my friend. Just kidding, it's four." "I just hurt all of my bones." "High five? No, you're too far away. My bad." "Did you solve my wolverine puzzle?" "Did you know doors hurt?" "Everyone has a raccoon!" "Why don't you keep it to yourself, tough guy?" "Save the fight until I have the camera ready, okay?" "That's not a view, that's a snow." "I think you're in the corridor of the monkey." "If you throw that me, I'm gonna fuckin' flip my goddamn lid." "You want some snow, bitch?!" "Lady? Girl? ...I should really learn her name." "Water's looking a little green, that's just the way I like it." "Did the ghosts take my friends again?" "I'm actually half ghost." "Is that a lightsaber? Like from Star Trek?" "I'm gonna level with you, I hate being in the same room as you." "BOOOOOOOOOOOK!" "You like the new office? I fuckin' don't." "You didn't read through the contract, did you kiddo?" "I can get fucked? Finally!" "Even the ghost agrees." "I should have fucking known. This ghost is such a libro." "That's great and all, but I'm gonna look like a jackass!" "This is what happens when you pull mean pranks. God punishes an elk." "THAT was a HEALING spell?! Oh god!" "Door key? You're pretty dorky!" "I can imagine a lot of dipshits, in fact." "Get un-naked! Get un-naked! Get un-naked! Get un-naked!" "I'm casting a hex on you now. Have fun getting hexed, idiot." "See? The Kinect causes psychic powers." "I can't believe Blue's freakin' clue is on here." "Ugh...I freaking hate doors." "Blue save me..." "Telling them the vibes made you do it won't hold up in a court of law." "Oh, would you look at the time. It's time for me to rip you a new one again!" "I cannot wait, but I suppose I'll have to." "The hex worked great. Now let's see if I can go shoot what remains of her." "I love running through the forest like a fucking weirdo." "You look like an idiot on the ground there." "If I have anything to say about it, you won't make it back." "I wanna see you, whatever you are, you funny-looking fellow." "Why do I have so much trouble with doors?" "Hey, funny voice! Fuck off, please!" "It's a saw trap, you dumb piece of shit!"

"Seems mysterious, but I won't shoot him this time. Gotta weaken him with the hex." "You're gonna get fucked if you can't say goodbye to a ghost. Trust me on that one." "Hey, uh, do you wanna stop having trouble with doors, now'd be a phantasmical time!" "Unless you want to work with me here, well...we're gonna be stuck here until dawn." "Not like you've ever done anything on purpose in your entire life, you fucking hack." "What, not even a goddamn laugh? Oh, it's gonna be a rough fuckin' couple weeks." "I can't believe I made it up to Rude Mountain only to be discovered by rude people." "I've got all my gamerscore on my phone, so I'm hoping that nobody really touched it.” "That's pretty cringe of you, buddy. I'm gonna put you in my Cringe Tuesday compilation." "If I wanted to talk about beans, I'd hang around with the fuckin' Among Us crew down there." "You know what? I have two arms, so I guess I CAN carry both of them at the same time." "I just got my lips unstuck. Aw, geez. I've been trying to talk to you guys this whole time."  "I left some beans in my backpack. They might be a few years old, but they don't really expire." "I should've known that coming to Rude Mountain would have made you worse as a person." "I've just been playing a lot of Among Us recently and I've just been trying to really get good at lying. "Oh, so NOW you're a funny guy, huh? You think you got your own jokes?! Ya think this is stand up?!" "I have blankets in the back, but I'm gonna go to the front just to see if I can spice things up a little." "I'm here to help you, and whaddya do? You spit in my goddamn face! ...Metaphorically, of course.” "What do you take me for, some kind of clown?! Some kind of Boo Boo the Fool that ain't done this rodeo before?!" "Here at therapy we're here to answer the one big burning question everyone's got: what the FUCK is wrong with you?" "I noticed you don't have much of a sense of humor. That might explain all the shit you've gotten into recently, wouldn't it?" "Well with my ten step plan I'll be happy to go plumb the depths of your sad, scared little mind and see what makes you...tick, as it were."

[buckys-black-dress]

a fine line, part four

a/n: heyyy! sorry this part took so long :( i was feeling really shitty this past week, so here it finally is! i hope u guys like it :)

wc: 3.7k words

-

This week was going... strangely well. 

And of course, it was because of James. 

On Monday when you walked into your first ever shared lecture, everything was already set up. There was even a coffee and breakfast waiting for you, which James graciously handed to you with a bright smile upon your entrance. 

“Good morning, Y/N. Did you sleep well last night?” He asks with an innocent smile, but you knew he wasn’t all that clueless. 

“Good morning James. I did, in fact, sleep very well last night. I hope you did too, because we have a long day ahead of us.” You give a tight smirk with your words, looking at the coffee and bakery bag in his hands. “What’s that?” 

“Oh! For you. This is day one, remember?” He says, handing you them and retreating to his desk. “Also, I spoke to Fury about the class sizes. Although he wasn’t much help and basically told me I was on my own, I did send an email to my students about the way they should behave while you’re here. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or anything.” 

“O-oh. Thanks. I really appreciate that.” You mumble, looking down.

“Yeah, of course. Is there anything else you might need to do this?” He asks in a sincere tone. You felt so weird. 

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. Thank you, though.” You smile.

“Well, let’s get started then.” James turns around to open the door, waiting for students to file in until class officially started.

You were extremely nervous, to say the least, but it was comforting knowing that he was trying to make you feel more at home in this space.

Tuesday was more of the same. He, again, brought you breakfast, and had his class in line. But the thing that was different today was the sweet note attached with the lunch he brought.

Y/N, I hope you know how serious I am about all of this. Part of that means paying attention to what you like and don’t like. I know you hate milk in your coffee, large crowds, and when people think English class is a joke. I also know you hate hot coffee, but love tea. And you love grilled cheese, which is what I got you from that café across campus. Enjoy :) -BB

You smiled down at the greasy paper bag, smelling heavenly as ever. Your stomach rumbled after a long lecture with James, and just as you were to plop down into your office chair, a knock sounded from the doorframe, and a large body appearing.

“Hey. Like the lunch?” James asks, his hands in his pockets while walking in slowly.

“Y-Yeah, how’d you know?” You ask, smiling down at the sandwich.

“I mean, I see you there a lot with Nat and Wanda, so I thought I’d treat ya to one. I pay attention to you more than you think.” He says, and your brows pull together as you try not to laugh. “I- that made me sound like a creep.” He looks down in embarrassment.

“It’s alright, James,” you smile, “I really appreciate it. Thank you.” You look down at the warm sandwich again. “Would you like the other half?” You extend it out to him, and he watches with wide eyes.

“Oh, n-no, I wouldn’t wanna impose like that, it was for you-” 

“James, I insist. Please, sit.” You motion to your chair across your desk. 

He sits with you and conversation flows easily between you two, and it was a huge change from where you two stood a month ago. If someone told you a month ago that James Barnes was trying to woo you, to make you accept his apology, then you would’ve laughed in their face. 

But sitting here now, with him, you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. 

That is, until you hear the clicking of heels from the hall, and a certain redhead peeking her head in your office.

“Oh! Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t realize you already had lunch plans,” Natasha says with a smirk, moving to leave your office. You watched with wide eyes, and you knew she was going to have a word with you about this later.

“Great.” You say, hitting your head against your desk, while James is chuckling from his spot.

“Y’know, she’s definitely somethin’ else.” He laughs, looking at you carefully. “It’s not a bad thing, right?” He asks.

“What’s not a bad thing?” You ask, confused.

“That Natasha saw us in here... together...?” He sounds like he’s asking a question, but he’s not sure.

“No... We’re... friends, right? Friends eat lunch together...” You tell him, although you also sound unsure of yourself.

“Yeah... friends.” Bucky feels his chest tighten in a way he’s only felt a few times in his life before.

You both carry on eating, but you don’t see the way he’s looking at you. It almost looks like... longing.

Wednesday was slowly escalating Bucky’s promise to you. After a long day of teaching, there was a bottle of wine waiting on your desk when you returned to collect your things for the evening. Another note was attached to it.

Dear Y/N, 

Here’s a little something to help you get through tomorrow and Friday. Hope you enjoy. :)

- BB

You look at the bottle, and it’s an aged Sauvignon from France. It was a nice bottle, and you know he took his time picking it out. It made your insides tingle knowing he thought of you and what would impress you. 

You picked up the bottle, looking at it for another minute before sliding it into your bag and gathering your papers and laptop.

You wanted to knock on his door to say thank you, but it was already shut, so you assumed he was either already gone or speaking privately with someone. 

You decided you would just text him to thank him, and with that you decided to leave your office for the night. 

Little did you know, James was having a conversation with one of the students he had come to love and whom he had become very close with over the course of their time together. 

“Dr. B, you weren’t being so subtle in class today, y’know?” The boy’s scratchy voice said.

“What’re ya talkin’ about, Parker?” His voice was tired from lecturing all day, but he couldn’t deny the way his heart rate picked up at the boy’s words.

“Well, with Dr. Y/L/N... I don’t know, you look at her like how I look at MJ...” He tells his professor.

“Well I sure hope so, ‘cause I like her... a lot...” Bucky shoves his head into his hands and takes a deep breath, while the student still stares at him.

“Well why don’t you tell her?!” Peter exclaims, hands flailing around with wide eyes. “You guys would be awesome together! Oh man, I can’t wait to tell MJ, she’s gonna love this- You know Dr. Y/L/N is like, her favorite teacher ever?-” Peter starts rambling, but is cut off by Bucky’s gruff voice.

“L-Listen, kid, it’s not that easy. I messed up with her before, and I’m trying to make it up to her. I did some things that... that I’m not proud of before, and now it’s time for me to win her over, but I’m runnin’ short on ideas, here.” He explains to the youngling.

“Oh- Well, what’re you thinking?” Peter asks, ideas already running through his head. 

And once Bucky explains what happened and what he’d been doing this whole week, Peter jumped in his seat.

“Maybe MJ can help! She sees her like, every day anyways, so maybe we can like, ask her to do something. Something subtle, but something Dr. Y/L/N will know is from you. We all know she doesn’t like all that flashy crap.”

And so the two got to planning the rest of the week, and came up with ways to have MJ help as well, just to add that little somethin’ for you.

Thursday went by in a flash, but there was something by lunchtime that you couldn’t shake from your thoughts. 

James hadn’t done anything today, and you were scared.

Scared that he gave up, that he doesn’t care anymore.

Scared that you’re not worth it anymore. 

By 3 PM, you couldn’t help but feel small and like a fool. You were sitting at your desk between classes, trying to work on some grading to take your mind off the events of the day.

Or lack thereof.

Until there was a knock at your door, a knock you’ve known for almost two years now. 

“MJ, come in! How are you today, hun?” You ask in the cheeriest voice you can muster right now. 

One of your most treasured students walks in and sets her bag down on the chair in front of your desk.

“Hi Dr. Y/L/N. I have a message for you.” She tells you very vaguely. You raise an eyebrow at the girl, but allow her to continue with a brief nod.

“Uhm, alright?” You tell her.

“Y/N,” you raise your brows at the use of your first name, “I know I haven’t always been the kindest you. I know that I’ve made you doubt me and my honesty. And I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I’d like to change that. I’ve spent the better part of this week trying to figure out how I was going to make you understand just how sorry I am for the way I treated you. I made you feel like you weren’t enough, that you were the problem, but in the end, I had to sit and think.

This was all my fault. I made us this way, but now it’s up to me to fix it. I hope you know, you are one in a million, and I want you to see that. I want you to see yourself the way I see you. So, I have a simple favor to ask of you. Tomorrow night, be ready at seven o’clock sharp in your prettiest dress. Love, James.” 

And before your brain could even process the fact that James was asking you out on a date and calling you beautiful, the door opened once again, and a student you’ve often seen milling in and out of James’ office.

He was holding a bouquet of assorted flowers of beautiful greenery and colors that you’ve never even imagined of. 

“Hi Dr. Y/L/N. These are for you.” He hands them to you, and remember his name to be Peter Parker, MJ’s boyfriend. 

“Oh- Oh my God, thank you, Peter. And you too, MJ. You’re both absolute gems.” You say with a severe blush dusting your face. 

“Of course, Doctor. That’s all we’ve got for our part, have a good rest of your day.” MJ smiles as she grabs Peter’s hand and leave your office.

You wave them off and give them a sweet smile. 

You stare down at the floral arrangement in your hands, and couldn’t contain the wide smile that you had spread across your face.

You had only seen James through class today, and it had gone extremely well. You gave a full lecture, and your lesson plans had been going over really well with the class. Although James hadn’t done anything today, it had lifted your mood to see you were doing well with this lesson. 

But now, you were over the moon, and nothing could ruin your day.

You slowly bounded into James’ office, finding him facing away from the door, murmuring something to himself as he flicked his eyes from his computer to the papers in front of him. 

“Hey, stranger.” You say with another grin that made James’ stomach flutter at the sight. You were leaning against his door frame, bag slung across your shoulder and the flowers in hand.

“H-Hey. How are you?” He asks, standing up from his chair.

“I’m doing great. Better than I was earlier today. I uh... I thought you’d...given up on me,” you try to laugh it off, trying to make it look much less dramatic than you initial thoughts.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He walks up to you, tipping your chin up where your eyes meet his icy baby blues. “You... You are so important. Especially to me, and don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise. I know I did it in the past, and there’s nothing I wish I could take back more than that.” He looks at you with such conviction, such purpose, that all you can do is nod numbly and stare back.

“I, uhm, Lucy’s waiting for me at home, I have to go. But I’ll see you tomorrow.” You say softly, still holding his gaze.

“Okay, see you tomorrow. Have a good night, doll.” He says, softly smiling and backing away, but still facing you.

“Bye.” You smile, walking away.

“Bye.” James returns, a silly smile on his face.

“Bye.” You say again, laughing.

“Bye!” You hear him yell, but you were already out of his office. 

You hear his laughter mixing with yours, and you couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off your face for the rest of the night. Not when you got home and fed Lucy, not when you put the flowers in a vase, and certainly not as you fell asleep.

Friday was possibly the slowest day ever. You were in class all morning, and you were still giddy from yesterday. The lesson had gone exceptionally well, especially after the breakfast James brought you. 

You ate lunch with Nat and Wanda, having not sat down to have an in-depth conversation with them in quite a while.

“Soooo... what’s up with you and Bucky?” Natasha gives you one of her devious smirks, and she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Well, he’s been doing this... thing this week where he’s making it up to me for... everything, I guess?” You say. “And we’re going on a date tonight.” You don’t meet their eyes, but theirs widen as they share a look.

“And you didn’t think to tell us, you bitch?!” Wanda hits your arm, laughing out a scoff.

“I-I mean, it was a whole deal. He like- you know MJ and Peter? They came in and did this thing in my office, MJ read a whole note from him, and then Peter came in with a bouquet of these beautiful flowers. And then I went to his office to thank him, and we had this... interaction like... like it was magic.”

The way you spoke in awe had Natasha and Wanda confused, but also in awe. They were happy for you, after all you’d been through, it was comforting seeing you like this. You deserved to be happy.

“That’s really great, Y/N,” Natasha gently placed her hand over yours. Her smile was sincere, just like Wanda’s. You were genuinely happy in this moment. Not only with the prospect of your date tonight, but because of the people you were surrounded with. You were grateful for these two, because you didn’t know where you’d be without them. 

“So, are you two gonna help me get ready for my date tonight?” You ask expectantly, to which both redheads say,

“Duh!” And all three of you burst into a fit of giggles.

-

So now, here you were. It was an hour before James was set to pick you up, and you were dat at your vanity while Wanda curled the ends of your hair. Nat had picked out a gorgeous black dress for you, with strappy heels and a short cardigan for some cover-up. You had a robe on while you were waiting for Wanda to finish, so you could do your makeup. That’s all that was left, and the anticipation for 7 o’clock was killing you.

“Y/N, I can practically hear you thinking so hard,” Wanda laughs, patting your shoulder.

“Sorry, I just- I’m nervous. I haven’t been on a date since... since forever. I don’t wanna mess this up, especially with him.” You explain to them.

“Y/N, think of like this... he’s making it up to you. You don’t have anything to worry about. He’s the one doing the impressing.” Natasha tells you, and you understand a little bit.

“Yeah, he’s the one owing it to you. You have nothing to worry about, dear.” Wanda reassures.

“Y-You’re right, guys. Okay, let me do my makeup, and then I’m ready.” You smile, because even though you were nervous you were also excited. This was a surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see what James had planned.

As 7 o’clock rolled around, Nat and Wanda eventually left. You were waiting by the door downstairs, waiting to see a car pull around, but instead what you saw made your eyes widen.

You peeked your head out the door, seeing James.

On a motorcycle.

“Absolutely not, James!” You yell, not even for a second thinking it was funny.

He doesn’t say anything, just moving off the bike and walking up to you. 

“Y/N... you look... beautiful.” He takes your hand in his, completely ignoring how you were not amused by the bike.

“J-James, I’m serious. No.” 

“Y/N, I promise, you’ll be just fine. You’re in good hands.” He leads you to the bike, pulling out a helmet for you. 

“Do you not own a car?” You whine, really not wanting to get on this death trap.

“You know I do, but I like to keep the element of surprise, doll.” He smirks that smirk, and you know you’re not getting out of this. 

“Ugh, fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.” You say, waiting for him to get on first.

As you climb on, you wait for him to adjust himself, and you hesitate when the time comes to wrap your arms around his torso; your hands were just awkwardly hovering around him.

“Don’t be shy, doll.” You hear him say, suddenly just planting your arms into place quickly.

As James starts to drive, you feel yourself moving closer and closer to his body, eventually hugging up against him.

Bucky feels your body against his, and he can feel your heart beating wildly in your chest and every breath you take. He can feel it when he does something just a little bit risky on the bike, and how your breath catches in your throat.

And maybe he was doing them on purpose to feel your arms tighten around him even further. 

By the time you reach where he’s taking you, you’re sure you look like a mess. Helmet head, mascara smudged under your eyes. But Bucky can’t help but feel that this is the most beautiful you’ve ever looked.

You were perched on a lookout point of the city, and there was a large setup waiting for the two of you. A large blanket splayed across the grass, small lanterns scattered across the expanse of land along with a few baskets of food.

“Wow...” You couldn’t help but stare in awe at the scene. Bucky had really taken the time to arrange all of this... for you.

“Do ya like it? I know it’s not the ideal traditional first date, but I didn’t wanna take you to some fancy restaurant, and-”

“Bucky, it’s absolutely perfect.” You cut off his rambling and take ahold of his hand, leading him to the blanket and you both sit down.

“So, how did you even come up with this?” You ask, watching him pull out the food and a bottle of wine.

“Well, I’ll admit... it wasn’t all me. I had a lot of help from Steve and Sam, because at first I had no clue what to do. I didn’t know how to really make it special, so we sat down and planned this whole thing.” He explains.

“Well, make sure to pass on a thank you to them from me.” You giggle, taking a sip of the wine he poured you.

“You got it, doll.” He laughs, and you two continue to talk and drink until you felt a chill run through you from a cool breeze building up due to the cold air.

And of course, Bucky notices. You watch him pull out another blanket, opening it to cover himself, but he holds up the other end and looks to you.

“C’mon, it’s getting colder, isn’t it?” Bucky asks with a gentle smile.

You nod, scooting closer to him to get under the blanket. And maybe it was the warmth from the wine you had, or the blanket or being so close to Bucky, but you felt very warm and comfortable in that moment.

“The lights are so... pretty from up here. Everything looks so small from up here.” You tell him.

“Hmm... it is really beautiful.” You hear his gruff voice from his chest, and you look up at him from your spot with your head on his shoulder.

He was looking right at you, and you momentarily see his eyes flicker from yours to your lips. It felt like gravity was pulling you two closer together, and eventually your eyes both slip closed and all you can feel is the warmth of his lips on yours. 

And you never usually kiss on the first date, but this was different.

Bucky was different.

When you pull away from him, you struggle to open your eyes again, for the fear that this was all a dream and you’ll wake up if you do.

“Angel, open your eyes. Look at me.” Bucky says, and you do as he says.

You looked like a real life angel to him. Swollen lips, hair flowing in all directions from his hands being run through it and the wind from the motorcycle. Under the blanket, your hands placed on his shoulders, basically in his lap. 

And this is when Bucky knew.

This was heaven. There was absolutely nowhere else he ever wanted to be than with you.

Your eyes searched his, and all you could find was adoration, infatuation, and... love.

And this is when you knew.

You were in love with Bucky Barnes.

[morning-might-arrive]

Apparently the monster high fandom is rising from the grave again, so in celebration I wrote this instead of sleeping. I will be finishing it soon. Feedback is much appreciated! A series of misunderstandings involving a limousine and Spectra’s blog lead Jackson to the realization that he has way more friends than he thought.

Monday

It was 12:06 in the afternoon when Jackson Jekyll ascended the steps of Monster High. If he was quick enough, he could at least be on time for 5th period. He took his seat in Mr. Rotter’s AP contemporary literature class just as the bell rang and pulled out his class copy of 1984. The stoic teacher gave him a nod of recognition. A few minutes into the lecture, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“You were not in creepateria this morning.” Abbey stated in her usual matter-of-fact tone.

“Yeah,” Winona added, “Ghoulia wanted to show you the new Fastpoint comic she got. She seemed really bummed you weren’t there. I can’t wait for you to read it though. It retcons the whole DeathCap Comics universe back to the way it was before the reboot. There was even-”

“Where were you, anyway?” Howleen hastily changed the subject.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. We were at the doctor’s office. Something kinda came up unexpectedly.” Jackson replied, turning to face them. This caught the attention of Rochelle. She looked up from her book.

“Doctor? Is everything alright?” Concern dripped from her voice and Jackson instantly felt guilty. 

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. We’re in a little bit of pain, but…” Jackson’s eyes both glanced upward towards his helix piercing as he spoke.”It won’t be a problem for much longer.” The four ghouls glanced at each other suspiciously and then back towards Jackson. Abbey opened her mouth to challenge his last statement.

“Ladies! Mr. Jekyll! Do not make me have to separate you!” Mr. Rotter’s stern voice boomed from the front of the room. Jackson muttered a meek apology and turned back to his book, his ghoulfriends quickly following suit. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

40 uneventful minutes went by and then finally the bell rang, signaling the end of the period. “Don’t forget to read the next chapter!” Mr. Rotter yelled to his students, but most of them were too far away to hear. Jackson dashed to his locker and quickly called his human friend Chad.

“Hey! I just got back from the doctor’s office. Yeah, she told me to just take some Advil and just let it run its course.” unbeknownst to him, resident blogger Spectra Vonderguist was perusing the hallways looking for her next story.

“Completely done for, they said. Apparently there’s nothing they can do.” 

Spectra perked up at those words. She quickly pulled out her iCoffin and hid a few lockers down from Jackson’s. 

“It’s true. We don’t have much time left.” 

Spectra gasped and quickly snapped a photo of the scene in front of her. Did he say he was running out of time as in...death? Having always been a ghost, Spectra didn’t know a lot about death other than that it was something that happened to humans and to some breeds of monster. Even so, Jackson seemed a little early in his life to be experiencing it. In moments like these she really regretted snooping around in other people’s business, but she definitely had her blog post.

Tuesday

At 8:35 that morning, every phone in Monster High sounded at once as The Ghostly Gossip was updated. Conversations were halted and hallway traffic came to a standstill as several students stopped to check their phones. 

Normie’s days are numbered?

Yesterday, sources caught a phone conversation of one Jackson Jekyll in which he confessed to being told by a doctor that he didn’t have much time left on earth. This story is still developing, and more details will be reported as they come in.

Deuce Gorgon’s eyes scanned the short article again. “Dude.” Was all he could come up with after a couple of minutes. “What?” Asked Clawd Wolf as he approached his best friend. Deuce handed over his phone.

“Dude!” Clawd exclaimed. “If this is someone’s idea of a joke, it isn’t very funny.”

“I know.” Deuce replied in a stern tone that contrasted with his usual jovial one. “Maybe the ghouls know something about this.”

Clawd nodded and quickly scanned the hallway. Frankie, Cleo, Clawdeen, and Draculara were all crowded around Frankie’s locker. They were looking over Cleo’s shoulder at something on her phone and talking to one another in a hushed whisper. The boys headed toward the group.

“Hey, did you ghouls see that weird blog post?’ Deuce asked the group.

“Uh, yeah,” Cleo responded. “Why would Spectra post such a far-fetched tale? And expect anyone to believe it?”

“But why would she post something like this if it wasn’t true?” Clawdeen asked. “You know how seriously that ghoul takes her blog.”

“C’mon guys,” Frankie cut in. “Spectra’s gotten a story twisted around before, remember?”

“But-” Draculara started.

“But nothing.” All eyes turned towards a fast-approaching Heath Burns, flanked by Abbey and Ghoulia. “Look, if my cousins were dying, I would know about it. That ghost writer has lost her spark.”

“Am not so sure.” Abbey responded, giving Heath the side eye. “He was acting very strange yesterday. Said he did go to see doctor.”

Draculara burst suddenly into tears, clinging to Clawd and Clawdeen. “But that means we’re gonna lose Jackson and Holt-” the rest of her sentence was cut off by sobbing.

“There there, sweetie,” Clawdeen whispered, handing her best friend a tissue. “That does it. We have to put this whole thing to rest right now.

“Yes,” Abbey agreed. “We go ask Jackson.”

“Well we can’t just tell him we know,” Cleo insisted. “What are you even going to say? ‘Oh, by the way, Spectra eavesdropped on your private conversation yesterday and now there’s a story posted on the internet about you for the whole school to read, so can you tell us if it’s true?’ He’ll be mortified.”

Frankie stared at her. “That’s actually a pretty good point. Okay, we’ll meet in the library during lunch to find what we can about human death, so we at least know what we’re looking for. Sound like a plan?” The group collectively nodded. “Good. I’ll see you there.”

At 11:30 that morning, the group re-convened in the dusty confines of the Monster High library. Ghoulia moaned as she typed away at the computer in front of her. 

“Ghoulia says that when a human dies, they’re put into a box that is measured especially for them. The box is then put into a long black car to a place where it can be buried in the ground. It’s customary for the person’s box to be decorated with flowers, and then their family and friends are invited to a gathering to watch them be buried.” Frankie translated.

“Like some sort of going away party?” Clawdeen asked. “I’m glad i’m not a human. That’s pretty morbid.”

“But that proves it!” Heath exclaimed. “I’m Jackson’s family so if he were dying, I would definitely be invited to the going away party and so would my parents. This whole story is bogus.”

The other students weren't so sure yet, but they all let the subject drop for now.

At 2:56, the music stopped. Jackson blinked, suddenly aware of his surroundings. The sun beamed down and burned his eyes, and he quickly had to side step to avoid being trampled by the massive herd of students walking behind him. He’d apparently stopped in his tracks in the middle of the front walkway of the school. He looked down and discovered the cause of this to be his dead iCoffin. He plugged his phone into his portable charger and it blinked back to life. Underneath the time display was a message from Holt.

“You got any idea why D-low hugged me holding back tears this mornin? Did I miss somethin?” Jackson opened his phone to respond

“Um, no? I don’t think so. Did she say what was wrong?” He left it for Holt to find later and put his phone back in his bag. Not a moment passed before it began buzzing with a call from his dad.

“So anyway, I was all like ‘dude’ and she was all like-” Draculara recounted the events of the day and was suddenly cut off by her best friend Clawdeen, who pushed her back behind the doors to the school, pointing in Jackson’s direction. 

“You’re going to pick us up right?” Jackson asked into the phone.

“Okay. Yeah, we spoke to the florist yesterday. We picked out this really cool arrangement of Forget-Me-Nots. Pretty appropriate for the occasion, right?”

The two ghouls in hiding glanced at each other. “Do you remember what Frankie said? About humans getting flowers when they’re-”

“SHH!” the two turned their attention back to the human in question.

“Yeah, I know. Moms will be devastated. They said they won’t be back until 11 or 12 that night, and we’ll definitely be gone by then. But we’ll be sure to take a lot of pictures before we go!” He continued to the person on the other end. “Okay, see you in a few minutes.”

The girls gasped as Jackson put his phone away. Clawdeen pulled out her phone and pulled up the group chat. They had to tell everyone what they had just heard. 

[electrictoes]

When It Hits

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Week

Day 5:  “Are you okay? Relationship: Amanda Rollins  / Sonny Carisi​

Read on AO3

It had started out like any other Tuesday did these days. 

6am wake up; Amanda’s hair in his face; rolling over to silence his alarm just as Frannie started barking from the living room. Amanda’s lips on his shoulder as she got out of bed; she showered first, got dressed and took Frannie out for her morning walk before the girls were up - the morning routine is a little easier with a second pair of hands. The girls were eating breakfast when she got back and he had a coffee waiting for her. She gave him a kiss that was part thank you, part good morning, and Jesse giggled from behind her cereal bowl.

“And what’s so funny, little Miss Rollins?” he asked, making Jesse giggle harder.

“You kissed Mommy,” Billie said, as though it was the first time. He kissed Amanda again, just for their audience, then pressed exaggerated kisses to the top of each girl’s head before going back to the bedroom to get dressed for the day, the sound of their laughter following him down the hall.

Amanda took Jesse to school while Sonny dropped Billie at daycare; she had clung to his leg when he said goodbye - a phase she’d been going through - the daycare staff were used to this kind of thing, but he still felt guilty as he backed out of the room with her calling to him. He promised he’d see her that night, and he didn’t know then that he wouldn’t.

He sat through a morning meeting with Hadid and a handful of other ADAs, took the new case files she handed him and bit his tongue at the size of his pile compared to some of the others. Hadid caught his look, “It’s nothing you can’t handle, Counsellor.”

Ben Crosby leaned over, holding a file out to him, “This is Detective Rollins’ case,” he said, clearly hoping for an excuse to palm it off now that he’d given up trying to ask Amanda out.

“And I gave it to you, Mr Crosby,” Hadid said, “It’s open and shut.”

Sonny was glad not to be given even more work - it might have been Amanda’s case but he had more than enough on his plate. He’d taken the stairs down to his office, dropped the case files onto his desk and set to work - he had a lot of reading to do before he even got started on trial prep.

He spent the rest of the morning tied to his desk working through the case load, making calls, chasing witness testimonies, and only stopped when his cell phone rang, Amanda Rollins on the caller ID.

“Hey,” he said, dropping his pen to the desk to focus on the conversation, “What’s up?”

“This new case,” she sighed into the phone, “I need to rain check lunch.”

Now that he and Amanda lived together it was less disappointing to miss out on having lunch together than it used to be, but he’d still always rather eat with her than alone, “Okay,” he said, “You gonna eat?”

“I’ll get something later.”

“You won’t,” he argued, “Five years in that squad room together. I’ll bring somethin’ over.”

“You don’t have to,” she said, but he could hear the smile on her face through the phone. He could also hear Kat in the background; he couldn't make out her words but he doubted it was anything complimentary.

“I will,” he said, “I’m goin’ to the deli. And text me Kat’s order - Fin’s too if he wants anythin’.”

“See you soon,” she said. He returned the sentiment, believing it at the time.

Sonny walked from his office out to a deli a block away from the courthouse, one he and Amanda had started going to years ago, back when they were still partners in the professional sense. It was a familiar walk, cutting through side streets, and he didn’t need to pay attention to the route; he was answering emails from his phone, hoping to extend his lunch break little when the car hit him.

It happened so quickly he didn’t know what was happening until he’d already hit the ground, pain searing through him as he landed face down on the sidewalk.

He heard the car backing away and saw it drive off down the street as though nothing had happened - he heard approaching footsteps, someone saying, “Are you okay?”, and he tried to push himself upwards but his arms felt weak, the rest of his body heavy, and he dropped back down. His phone had fallen from his hand when the impact had happened, and he could see it lying a few feet away, out of reach. He heard a second voice say they’d dial 911 and he gave up trying to move; his head had hit the ground with a dull thud and his thoughts were beginning to swim, his vision darkening.

He blinked back into consciousness with an EMT kneeling over him, asking his name, but his thoughts were all out of order, he was trying to piece together what had happened. “I didn’t get the plate,” he said, then groaned at the pain forming on his lower right side.

“Don’t worry about that now,” the EMT said, trying to get him to look at her, “You’re okay. What’s your name?”

“Sonny,” he bit out through gritted teeth, “I need to call-”

“We’ll call your next of kin when we get you to the hospital. We’re gonna move you now Sonny, and it’s going to hurt.”

He wanted to protest - he knew there were other things to think about - the car, the driver - he was on the sidewalk, the driver didn’t stop. It couldn’t have been an accident. He needed to remember. Had he seen the driver? He wasn’t even sure what kind of car it had been. The ache in his ribs worsened every time he opened his mouth, and he was in no position to raise any viable objections as the EMTs gently rolled him over and carried him into the back of the ambulance; his leg searing with pain with every movement. He raised his head enough to look down and almost passed out again at the sight of bone poking through his skin.

“You’re okay,” the EMT said again as he dropped his head back down. In the back of the ambulance, his stomach churning, his thoughts whirring, and his head throbbing he couldn’t focus - the lights overhead blurred in and out and he closed his eyes against the harsh fluorescence. “I’m just going to give you some pain relief, Sonny, okay?” the EMT said; he wasn’t sure if he responded, but after a moment he felt a needle in his arm, and he let himself drift away again.

The next time he awoke he was in a sterile, white hospital room, monitors beeping beside him and, much to his surprise, Hadid standing at his bedside looking out of place and like she’d rather be just about anywhere else. He glanced just beyond her out of the window; the sky was darkening - he didn’t know how long he’d been out but it must have been several hours. Sienna would have picked Billie and Jesse up by now; he was supposed to be home with them. He shifted, pushing himself upright and biting back a jolt of pain in his side. His leg was heavy as he tried to move it and he looked down to see it was weighed down with a cast from just below his knee all the way to his toes.

“Are you okay?” Hadid asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

“What are you doin’ here?” he asked, then corrected himself, “I mean-”

Hadid held up a hand, shaking her head, “They got your ID badge from your jacket, called the office.”

Sonny frowned; that didn’t answer his question, and Hadid must have realised that because she continued, “I spoke to Captain Benson and she’s going to let Detective Rollins know as soon as she gets back to the city. I’m sure she’s already on her way.”

“You didn’t have to stay,” Sonny said, caught extremely off guard by his boss hovering next to his hospital bed.

“It didn’t seem fair to let you wake up alone. And your HR file doesn’t have any family contacts in it.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “No sense in worryin’ them if somethin’ happens.”

“Like this?” Hadid said, “It was a hit and run; the police are going to want to speak to you.”

He nodded, “I know. It- I don’t think it was an accident.”

“It does seem like you were targeted,” Hadid said, crossing her arms across her chest - Sonny thought he saw something like guilt in her eyes; it was a strange experience, this humanising of Vanessa Hadid. She was his boss; if a case she'd given him was the reason he’d ended up here she probably felt responsible.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, “Could be anythin’. An old case, something from organised crime even. And I’m okay.”

“I’ll tell the doctors you're awake,” Hadid said, “I’ll let you rest. I’m not expecting to see you in work for a while,” she told him; she gave a brief nod and then left the room.

Minutes later he was distracted from his thoughts by the appearance of the doctor - she explained his injuries to him - compound fracture to his right tibia, four broken ribs, and a concussion from smacking into the concrete head first. “You’re a lucky man,” she said with a smile.

“Oh, I feel it,” Sonny said jokingly - and then he meant it, because he heard Amanda’s voice out in the hall asking for him - fraught with worry and impatience, and he realised - not for the first time - just how lucky he was. The doctor turned her head towards the door.

“Someone special?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Can I-”

“I’ll let her in.”

Even with her face lined with worry, her hair thrown up haphazardly and the weight of a long day on her shoulders, Amanda was still a sight for his sore eyes - he held a hand out towards her as she came into the room and she was by his side in an instant, gripping tightly to his hand, her other reaching up to his face, thumb tracing the bruising across his cheek.

“Dominick,” she whispered it like she was grateful she got to, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he assured her, “I’m not lookin’ my best but-”

She shook her head, laughing even as tears formed in her eyes and she pressed her lips to his, “What happened? I was worried when you didn’t show up for lunch, and then we had to go out to New Jersey and-”

“Hey,” he placed his left hand on top of hers on his cheek, “It’s okay. I’m gonna be just fine.”

Amanda nodded, pulling away and sitting in the empty chair beside his bed, furiously swiping at the tears under her eyes - a futile endeavour as more began to fall, “So, what happened?”

It was two days before they let him out of the hospital - two days of lying in that bed feeling sorry for himself; bored out of his mind because Hadid wouldn’t even send him work he could do remotely. He spoke with detectives assigned to his case - two old school cops, inches from retirement with little to no interest in what he had to say until they realised this was probably connected to an SVU case they could bounce right back. No threats had been made, no one else had been hurt. Amanda, Fin and Kat had trawled through his pending case log, trying to see who might want to knock him out of action, but nothing stood out. They’d have to play a longer game on this one - and he’d have to keep his eyes off of his new phone - his old one all but destroyed flying several feet down the sidewalk and landing with a crash that put a deep crack right through the photo of Amanda and Billie he had set as his lock screen - as he moved around the city.

He wasn’t worried about being targeted again - firstly because he was probably going to be stuck indoors for the next couple of weeks - or at least not venturing out alone - and secondly because he knew it was only a matter of time before SVU found out who was responsible.

Amanda picked him up from the hospital on Thursday afternoon, and walked patiently alongside him as he tried to master his new crutches; she only made one invalid joke, and it was a good one so he let it slide.

When they got back to her apartment building he was more grateful than he’d ever been that her building had an elevator. And grateful that almost all of his belongings had migrated over here, too, because his building’s elevator had been about to be installed since before he’d moved in two years ago.

A chorus of delight greeted him when he followed Amanda into the apartment - a Jesse-made banner hanging behind the couch, balloons bouncing around the room - their friends making themselves at home amongst his and Amanda’s things, and in the middle of it all two very excited little girls who came running towards him, only to be stopped in their tracks by their godmother before they knocked him completely off balance. He gave Liv a thankful smile before he looked down at the two of them.

Billie stepped towards him, curling her arms around his uninjured leg and gripping tightly to the fabric of his pants. “Stay now,” she said firmly, and he reached down to stroke her hair, leaning awkwardly on one crutch - Amanda was by his side, balancing him out like she always did - a little more literally this time.

Jesse stood beside Liv, her eyes wide as she looked at the cast on his leg, her voice catching as she whispered, “Are you okay?

He would’ve crouched down to her height if he could have, but he settled for giving her a warm smile, “I am now,” he said, “Did you make me that banner?”

She nodded shyly, still not approaching him, and Amanda reached out an arm to her, “How about we help Uncle Sonny over to the couch and you can sit with him?” she suggested, and Jesse nodded, still biting her lip.

With a little help extracting Billie from his leg - Kat risking the wrath of a two-year-old who’d missed her godfather to lift her into the air - he managed to make it over to the couch, propping the crutches up against the side as he sunk back into the cushions, relieved to be home at last.

Things wouldn’t be back to normal for a while - he’d be stuck in the cast for six weeks, trying to negotiate with Hadid over when he could get back into the courtroom - the case would be investigated, they’d find out who hit him, and why - he’d prosecute them, or someone else would. Then they could get on with life - and maybe the doctor was right about just how lucky he was - even with his leg propped up on Amanda’s coffee table while Billie screamed in his ear and Jesse curled sadly into his side - it was worth it to see Amanda watching on with so much fondness he would’ve kissed the smile right off her face if he could get across the room.

[ssscentral]

Mine

Summary: Is it a dream? A nightmare? Just a figment of my imagination. Or is it something more?

WIP - Masterlist - Members

Pairing : Namjoon x Reader || Established Relationship

Genre : Horror, Demon!AU

Warnings : Character death, brief gore at the end, it be scary

WC : 2.6k

Member : Kas || @voiceswithoutlips​ 

A/N : This is the fourth and last installation in the “Hell of a Ride” series. All four parts have the same prompt, but the authors have interpreted it in their own way. This is a horror fic, like it’s scary, there’s no fluff or smut. Thank you @taegularities​ and @heejinnien​ for being awesome betas and for all your feedback <3 And a special thanks to @eternalseokjin​ for helping out <3 I hope you guys enjoy it!!

Sunday

I wished Namjoon and I could go on a long vacation somewhere. I barely saw him since he had started working at night. He seemed so distracted these days - his company had just landed a big project, so he had to work overtime. Yesterday I came home from work and he was just leaving for his office. He gave me a quick peck on the lips, and then he was gone. That’s all the action I’ve gotten since the Halloween fiasco, to say that we went wild would be an understatement. 

We had attended a friend’s Halloween party. I had dressed as a slutty demon and Namjoon had gone as a priest. My red dress had been so short, it barely covered anything. Halfway through the party Namjoon had finally snapped and dragged me back to our apartment. Needless to say, the sex was incredible. He had quite gotten into his role and incoherently grunted in Latin as things got heated. I had no idea what he was mumbling, but I was too far gone to care. 

That was a month ago. Unfortunately, after that I’d barely seen my boyfriend in the house, or anywhere else for that matter. 

Monday

I could barely sleep last night. I went to bed after a lonely dinner. I’ll admit to being a little tipsy after all that wine but in my defense, I missed my boyfriend. As soon as the lights turned off, I heard this scratching noise coming from the walls. I tried to ignore it, I really did, but the thought of rats running around in my apartment brought goosebumps on my skin. Our building was really old and the landlord never really did any TLC, one of the reasons we got this apartment cheap. What if there were raccoons in there? I shivered at the thought. 

After about two hours of that unholy noise, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I got up, turned on the lights and armed myself with a broom. I lightly tapped the broom on the wall, maybe the noise would scare them into leaving. After a few more taps the scratching stopped, thank Lord for that. I didn’t want to go sleep in the living room or call our shady landlord. 

I glanced at the clock when I went back to bed. It was almost six in the morning. How the hell did that happen? I remember waking up at midnight. Did I fall asleep? Somehow I’d lost a few hours. I bet it was the exhaustion and stress taking over my wine addled brain. 

Tuesday

We had this really romantic dinner planned at our favorite restaurant. Namjoon said he’d pick me up from work and I was so excited for it, but  he called at the last minute to cancel. His boss had called him in early to work on some presentation. It is safe to say I was extremely upset, and rightly so. I’d barely seen my boyfriend for a month, even texting him was getting annoying. I’d ask him something and by the time he replied I’d already be fast asleep. One dinner, was that too much to ask for?

I couldn’t help but feel disgruntled at how things turned out. Even though I knew Namjoon missed me just as much as I missed him, I couldn’t help but feel unwanted. It was illogical and petty, and the moment the thought crossed my mind I felt guilty. He worked so hard and here I was bitching about him. 

Dinner was a sad affair, I was too upset to cook anything, so I ordered some chicken and drowned my sorrows in beer. I was about to fall asleep when I heard a light knocking on the door. I thought maybe Namjoon was back early, my sleep addled brain didn’t wonder why he’d knock when he knew the door code. I opened the door with excitement, only to be disappointed at the empty space in front of me. There was no one at the door. Either someone played a prank on me at this unholy hour or I missed my boyfriend so much that I imagined the knock, either way, it was disheartening.

I went back to bed in hopes of a quiet night. I hadn’t slept properly for two days. To say that I was exhausted would be an understatement. Sleep deprivation coupled with being a kindergarten teacher who had to run around all day after toddlers was taking its toll on my body. 

Another knock came, but this time it sounded much closer. I squinted my eyes at the darkness - was I imagining things again? Heavy curtains covered the bedroom window. I could barely see anything in the room. Was I so lonely that I was hearing phantom noises now? 

I turned on the lamp after a third knock. It came from the left wall. Rats don’t know how to knock, do they? I got up from the bed with a shiver. The bedroom was cold, I could see my breath in front of me. I gingerly touched the wall, it was just a wall, what did I expect? This time I could feel the vibrations when the knock came again, much louder. I ran back to bed, dread settling in my bones. What if there was some homeless person behind it? It was an irrational thought, I knew that, but I couldn’t help the fear. 

I tried to call Namjoon but it only went to voicemail. And what would I even tell him? That there was someone inside our bedroom wall? The whole situation seemed ridiculous but at the same time the knocking only got louder. I huddled in my blanket waiting for it to stop. The knocking had turned to pounding, the sound reverberating through my skull. Surely our neighbors must’ve heard it? 

Wednesday

I called the landlord and insisted that he should check for rats, but he said there were no rats. I asked the neighbors about the sounds; nobody had heard anything, not a single scratch or a squeak. I was losing my mind. Namjoon looked so concerned when he came home this morning. I looked like a crazy woman, red eyes, disheveled hair, don't even get me started on the eyebags. He insisted that I go see a doctor, maybe a therapist. The stress was getting to me. I was so desperate for sleep, but all I could do was get ready for work. 

The day was a blur - the only thing I properly remember was almost screaming at a five year old for showing me his drawing of a rainbow. I was going crazy. I stared at the empty bed, dreading to fall asleep. I prayed to every deity in existence for sleep. I was sure that the noise from last night had been stress induced and after a good night’s sleep everything would be okay. 

Someone was speaking. Was Namjoon back? I glanced at the clock, it was midnight. I reluctantly shuffled out of the blankets and turned on the light. The room was empty, just another dream then. But as soon as I turned off the light, I heard it again, clear as day, a quiet laugh. It echoed around the room as if it had a life of its own. 

I fought the rising panic in my chest. I was standing in the dark with my hand on the light switch. I desperately wanted to turn on the lights but I was frozen in place, heart pounding. There was someone in the room, someone besides me, someone who wasn’t my boyfriend. 

I felt a cold breath on the back of my neck. Someone was standing right behind me, so close I could feel the cold radiating from their body. A chill ran down my spine. My brain stopped working, all I could think of was how much I didn’t want to die. Was he going to stab me? Strangle me? Maybe he’d torture me just for the fun of it. 

“MINE!” a guttural voice said, laced with such malice that the adrenaline finally kicked in. My fingers acted on their own, turning the lights on. My body whirled around before I could stop it to see the face of this stranger. But there was no one there. The room was empty. 

Thursday

I woke up with a massive headache. I was somehow in my bed, sunlight streaming through the windows. Fear spiked through me as soon as I heard someone walk towards the bedroom door. I was about to scream when Namjoon peaked through the door and said, “Hey baby, want some scrambled eggs?” 

I don’t know what took over me but as soon as I heard his voice I started sobbing. He quickly scooped me up in his arms and tried to soothe me. He was so confused as to why his girlfriend was crying first thing in the morning. Between sobs I told him what had happened, what was still happening - I couldn’t help it. I wanted someone to know, no, I needed someone to know. It felt like I was losing my mind. How could the room be empty?

Namjoon insisted that I take a day off today, but I couldn’t. I needed to get out of that apartment, I couldn’t stay there. I wanted to feel the sun on my skin, I wanted to hear the children’s laughter. My boyfriend was sure that it was just a nightmare. Was it though? I was sure I was wide awake. I had heard his voice, clear as day, mine, that’s what he had said. Mine. 

Namjoon tried to take some time off but his boss wouldn’t let him. He had to go on a business trip. I had assured him that I would call him immediately if anything happened. Maybe it was just a nightmare, maybe there was nothing in the dark. The sleep deprivation, loneliness, and the stress had finally gotten a hold of me. That’s what it was, my brain trying to make sense of my emotions. Nothing else. 

I reluctantly got off the elevator. It was almost midnight, I had stayed out with my friends as long as I could. I was dreading going back to my empty apartment. As soon as I entered,  I swept the living room with my eyes. Everything was in its place. Namjoon was a bit of a neat freak, I didn’t know what I was expecting. I exhaled shakily; I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath. 

I debated whether I should turn off the bedroom lights or not. On one hand, I was an adult and I could just sleep with lights on. On the other, I was an adult and not a six year old who was scared of some imaginary monster.  I had too much pride, so I hesitantly turned off the lights and hopped under the blankets. 

I couldn’t fall asleep, I was too tense. The sound of the refrigerator, the comforting ticking of the clock, every familiar sound had suddenly turned eerie. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt exposed, like someone was watching me, raising the hair on the back of my neck. I debated whether I should open my eyes or just keep them closed. 

I chickened out and opened my eyes, frantically looking around. There was nothing. The bedroom was slightly illuminated and I had purposefully kept the curtains open, just to let some light in. I sighed and burrowed more under the soft fabric, hugging a pillow. Nightmare, that’s all it was, just a nightmare. 

I slowly relaxed, tracing patterns with my eyes on the dull, yellow wallpaper. I’d always hated that wallpaper, it was the color of piss. The pattern on it was irritating, just a bunch of lines that seemed to lead nowhere. The more I looked at it, the more I was vexed. I had half a mind to get up and violently peel it off the wall when I saw it. 

A pair of eyes were looking at me from the heating vent. The vent was located on top of the wall, its cover was open. Even though it was pitch black in that small space, I could clearly see those hostile orbs. Vertical pupils stared at me with such hatred that I couldn’t help but whimper. Every instinct in my body recoiled from terror. I could feel the blood pumping in my veins, my heart painfully pounding in my chest, I’d never felt so alive and so helpless. 

I wanted to run away from those eyes, the staring boring through my skull. I wanted to scream - surely someone would hear me? I wanted to call Namjoon, I wanted to feel safe. But I couldn’t. I had a sinking feeling that if I made any movement, it’d come out and jump on me. So I just laid there, barely breathing, perfectly still, like a dead body. 

It laughed. A horrible grating laugh that rang through the room. It touched my skin and I felt an intense pain, like a thousand tiny cuts. It was such a repulsive sound that I had to force myself from flinching. My tiniest movement could set it off. I didn’t know how I knew that, I didn’t know if it was even logical but at that moment, all I could think of was those eyes, dripping with venom. 

Mine. It growled. It kept saying that over and over again, sometimes it was soft, like a baby’s whisper, sometimes it was louder than thunder. The sound was in the room but at the same time it was in my head, like an airpod had fallen through my ear and landed in my skull. It was everywhere. 

Friday

I woke up groggy. My body felt like someone had put it through a blender, my head throbbing in pain. I could barely open my eyes, everything hurt. I didn’t remember much about last night, the only thing I could recall was being extremely afraid. I reached for my phone and somehow, through trial and error, dialed my boss to call in sick. I was so exhausted and as soon as I mumbled my apologies, I lost consciousness. 

My eyes opened to a dark room. I sighed when I felt a body press against my back. Namjoon was back, everything was going to be okay. I rolled around and buried my face in his neck. I’d never felt so safe. I inhaled deeply, he smelled so good, like orange blossoms. When did he change his cologne?

He put his hands around me, clutching me to his chest. I had missed him so much, I gripped his shirt. When did he start wearing a shirt to bed? His arms caged me to him tightly. 

“Joonie, too much,” I whined when he squeezed so hard I couldn’t breathe. 

“MINE,” he growled. 

Saturday

The smell hit him before he could see inside the room, metallic, like the smell in a butcher shop. Detective Jung almost lost his breakfast when he saw the crime scene. The ugly yellow wallpaper was covered in blood. It had seeped through the blankets and the mattress. Every color was distorted by red. There was a pile of undistinguishable body parts on the bed. The soft carpet made squelching sounds as the forensic team moved around the room.

Detective Jung left the apartment in a hurry, a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. He would question the suspects first - to him, everyone who wasn’t the victim was a suspect. It was better than going back inside and putting together the puzzle that once used to be a human being. 

Kim Namjoon was sobbing in a corner, the victim’s boyfriend. He was the one who had called the police after coming home from a business trip. He was in shock, he could barely comprehend anything that was happening around him. Detective Jung tried to talk to him with no success, he’d just have to wait.

“What happened?” a melodic voice asked.

“Who are you?” 

“Park Jimin, I moved here a month ago.”

[a-smol-chub]

He can’t be THAT good...

(Hinakamuegi stuffing)

Na.egi Ma.koto frowns as he lets out a sigh. His pudgy stomach surges forward, pushing the zipper of his pants down. He had tried everything, sucking in, laying down, he simply couldn’t get his work pants to button. “...Kamu.kura..?” He calls out hesitantly.

Izu.ru Kamu.kura steps into the doorway almost immediately. His face remains calm and composed, even though Na.egi is flushed red, and looking down in shame. “Uh… can- can you get me some new work clothes…? Mine aren’t fitting anymore…”

Kamu.kura nods and steps into the room, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of black work pants. “These should fit better,” he states before leaving. Na.egi swallows thickly and peels off the offending pants before pulling the other pair on. They were a little small, but at least they would button. He quickly slips a white work shirt on before grabbing his suit jacket on his way out of the apartment. “Love you!” he shouts before heading out. As soon as the door closes, Kamu.kura ties his hair up and slips an apron on. It was time to start cooking dinner.

Na.egi sighs and plops down in his office chair. He knew he had been gaining weight recently, but Kamu.kura either didn’t notice, or just hadn’t pointed it out yet. He absentmindedly runs a hand over his stomach as he hears a knock at the door. He blushes slightly. “Come in!”

A young intern walks in, holding a stack of files. “Um… Kiri.giri-san asked me to bring these to you, Na.egi-san.” 

“Oh, thanks Hin.ata-kun!” Na.egi beams up at the intern. Coincidentally, Na.egi had met his current boyfriend through this coworker, Ha.jime Hin.ata. Hinata had introduced them at a party celebrating Kamu.kura’s big promotion a few months ago. 

“Oh… she also wanted me to give you this,” Hin.ata adds, holding out a single sheet of paper. Na.egi frowns, taking it. “It’s a form for a new uniform. She said yours isn’t fitting that well anymore…”

Na.egi flushes and looks down. “It- it’s not my fault…” he mutters weakly. “It’s Kamu.kura, he’s way too good at cooking.” Hin.ata lets out a snort and rolls his eyes.

“Look, that bastard is way too good at most things, but it’s hard to believe he’d actually put that much effort into cooking for anyone. He hates cooking.”

Na.egi pouts and crosses his arms. “Then why don’t you come over some day? So you can see just how much he cooks lately.”

“He must have changed a lot for you to be telling the truth. Oh, I guess I’m mildly interested. When are you guys free?” he asks.

Na.egi pulls out a small pocket calendar from a desk drawer and flips through the pages. “Hmm… looks like we’re both good this Tuesday and Wednesday. Which works better for you?”

“Ah, I have a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday. Let’s do Wednesday,” he says. Na.egi nods excitedly and puts the pocket book back. He couldn’t wait for Hin.ata to find out just how wrong he was.

The rest of the work day is dull, Na.egi flipping through hours of mindless paperwork, signing things, and passing them up to management. He stands up from his desk and blushes as his stomach brushes past the edge of his desk. There had been free donuts and cupcakes in the employee lounge, and he had had way more than he originally thought. He swears internally and hopes that Kamu.kura didn’t have another large dinner planned for him.

----

He was wrong, of course.

After multiple large courses of mouth-watering lasagna, bowls upon bowls of creamy alfredo, and heaping plates of Italian meatballs, Na.egi lets out a quiet whimper and his arms flop to his side. “Kamu.kura… th- these dinners…. I’ve been putting on a lot of weight lately…” he whines.

Kamu.kura frowns and kneels down next to him, rubbing circles on his overfed belly. “Is it upsetting you?” he asks. As always, his face conveys no emotions, no hint of what he was thinking.

Na.egi blushes and sputters, trying to respond, but his mind feels fuzzy. Kamu.kura’s hands kneading his painfully stuffed belly made him feel weak, as he squirmed slightly. He lets out a quiet belch into his fist and looks away. “Everyone in the office just thinks… the- they think I’m doing this myself…”

“You are, are you not? I only provide food for you, but you are the one who stuffs yourself to this capacity.”

Kamu.kura’s words do not help the situation. Na.egi can’t necessarily deny that, even though he sure tries. He can’t justify it even to himself, because Kamu.kura was right and he knew it. He sighs. “Hin.ata-kun doesn’t believe that your cooking is this good… so I told him he could come over for dinner on Wednesday to prove him wrong.”

Kamu.kura pouts, pressing a finger roughly into Na.egi’s stomach. The noise Na.egi lets out makes him stutter and cover his mouth with embarrassment. “Wh- what was that for?”

“I did not give you permission to invite Hin.ata over.”

Na.egi huffs and tries to rub at his own stomach to soothe it. “He- he started talking about the weight I’d gained, and he said I needed a new uniform and I tried to explain that this only happened because of your cooking! But… he didn’t believe me…”

Kamu.kura lets out a quiet chuckle and plants a gentle kiss on Naegi’s neck. “We have been over this. This is not my doing, but yours. You need to start taking responsibility for your own gluttony,” he states monotonously. Na.egi blushes again, looking down. “I… can cancel with him if you want me to… I’m sorry, I should have asked you first.”

“He may come over, but I will need time to prepare dinner for the both of you.”

Na.egi perks up, leaning forward to kiss Kamu.kura in excitement. But his tummy weighs him down, and he flops back into the chair with a small huff. 

Kamu.kura gently wraps his arm around Na.egi’s waist and pulls him up, helping him walk down the hallway and into the bedroom. He pulls Na.egi’s work clothes off his grossly overstuffed form, tossing the basically worthless scraps on the floor. He crawls in bed next to his soft lover and pulls a blanket over them both, turning light out.

-----

The days leading up to Hin.ata’s visit were fairly uneventful. Na.egi would wake up, struggle to get dressed, go to work, snack all day, and come home to Kamu.kura’s unfairly good cooking. This continued until Tuesday evening, after work, when Hin.ata walked into Na.egi’s office at the end of his shift. “Hey Na.egi-san. You ready to head out?”

Na.egi presses the power button on his monitor and nods, standing up with a quiet ‘oof’. Damn… he had overdone it today, too. He feels his center of balance shift as he stands, and he rests a hand on his stomach. “Yeah, just let me grab my jacket.”

Hin.ata watches him, silently judging the shorter boy for eating so much at work. He had seen Na.egi sneak into the break room multiple times to bring food to eat mindlessly at his desk. He had seen Na.egi make trips to the vending machine, buying multiple sugary drinks and fattening snacks to stock pile in a drawer. He knew Na.egi was blaming his weight gain on his new partner, Kamu.kura, but seeing how Naegi acts at work, Hin.ata sincerely doubts that. 

The two brunettes make their way downstairs to the street to hail a cab together. They both climb in the back of the taxi, and Na.egi leans forward to give the address to the driver. The ride only takes around 10 minutes. Hin.ata passes a couple of dollars to his coworker, who adds his own half, and gives it to the driver. They both thank the driver and step out onto the sidewalk.

Na.egi climbs up the stairs to the apartment and unlocks the door. Hin.ata stands behind him, and is taken aback when the strong aromas of Kamu.kura’s cooking hit him square in the face. Na.egi giggles as he sees Hin.ata stumble forward, not even bothering to take his work jacket off, and sit down at the dining table. Having been subject to this before, Na.egi has enough self control to take his shoes and jacket off before sitting down and filling his plate. 

----

He had doubted every word, up until that damn door was opened.

Hin.ata had known Kamu.kura since they were both kids, and they had grown up together. Kamu.kura was apathetic, cold, and didn’t have any motivation to do anything. To hear that his old acquaintance (Hinata wasn’t sure he could call him a friend, exactly) had changed so much as to start cooking this much for Na.egi, for Na.egi to have gained this much weight…

It didn’t make any sense.

He had sincerely doubted it.

He knew he was wrong the second the door opened. 

His mouth starts drooling before he even sits down. He sits down at the dining table, grabbing a plate and piling it high with everything in reach. He vaguely registers Na.egi sitting down next to him, grabbing his own plate and filling it with whatever he can. 

Hin.ata’s mind is a complete blur. All he can process is the continual flow of food being stuffed down his throat. Tender roast that melts in his mouth, creamy potatoes that slide down his throat, freshly buttered rolls with a perfectly crispy crust. He continues shoveling everything in reach into his gullet, without regard for how quickly he’s filling up. His stomach balloons forward, pushing against the buttons on his shirt. His fork hits the bottom of his plate, and his mind clears for a moment. He lets out a quiet groan and presses a hand against his stomach, trying to comfort it. 

“K-Kamu.kura…” he whines, squirming in his seat. Na.egi continues shoving food into his mouth, not hearing Hin.ata. He was already on his third plate. Kamu.kura steps forward, a ghost of a smirk present on his face. “Is there a problem, Hin.ata?”

“It- it hurts… it’s too much…” he moans. Kamu.kura kneels down beside his chair and presses a warm hand against his flesh. Hin.ata’s face flushes and he turns away.

“Then stop,” Kamu.kura says simply. “That’s all you have to do. Don’t fill your plate again, and don’t keep going.”

Even with direct instruction not to, Hin.ata finds himself sitting forward and piling more food onto his plate. Kamu.kura watches with a smirk, continuing to rub circles on his belly. Hin.ata feels and hears his belly gurgle in protest, but he can’t stop his hands from moving. 

Na.egi slumps back, groaning, and looks over at Hin.ata and Kamu.kura with bleary eyes. “Is… he alright..?” Na.egi asks between heavy pants. Kamu.kura nods, continuing to rub Hin.ata’s bloated tummy. Hin.ata moans around a particularly large bite of pasta, and he hears a loud ping. He looks down and blushes deeply as he stomach surges forward. He had actually eaten so much that a button had popped off of his shirt.

“Do.. you see what I mean..?” Na.egi asks quietly.

Hin.ata doesn’t have the strength to give a snappy response.

[impala-dreamer]

Enough Bullshit.

(This is a personal post full of mental health issues and triggers.)

Went to the doctor this afternoon, and while we were waiting, Bill and I had a chat about posters that were on the wall. There was a check list for depression and another with info about bi-polar disorder next to the more common doctor’s office things like prostate health and diabetes. 

He’s a bit older than I am, but we both grew up in a time where mentioning depression or anxiety was not done. You didn’t even tell your doctor about it, because it came with negative reactions like “Well, just cheer up” or “Eh, you’re just sad. Be happy.” 

I live with this fear constantly, still. Not two years ago, I went to my doctor (and saw his elderly partner) and I told them that I was having suicidal thoughts and he told me, I kid you not, “Well, go do something you like. Go shopping.” I got up and walked out of the office and didn’t get the help I needed that day. 

It wasn’t until I had a nervous breakdown months later (while working at an SPNCon) that I realized I couldn’t handle it myself anymore. I saw a different doctor and he diagnosed a panic disorder and I’ve been on meds ever since. Nothing is perfect, but they help. I still struggle with this daily, and while it’s not bad most days, it’s always there, on top of my other medical issues. Some nights I can’t shop shaking, some nights I see my death on a loop. Some nights I have no troubles at all. I struggle with a severe panic disorder and suicidal ideation, and occasionally I turn to cutting to ease the other stuff. It’s just how my brain works.

If I talk about it, I still get people telling me, “Oh, everyone’s stressed right now.” “Just relax.” “Don’t be sad, you’re awesome.” OK, but... I can’t stop this. For me, this isn’t anxiety, it’s physical panic symptoms. I cannot think my tremors away. I cannot use breathing techniques to stop the my legs from moving body from twitching so painfully for hours that I’m left exhausted at the end. But, if I tell them that, I still get the “yeah, right. Just be happy.” Even from the nurse today. “Oh, stress will do that! haha! Ya know, wearing masks can be stressful!” OK, but... no. 

I’ve been having a severe panic attack since Sunday night. It’s been building to this for a while. I’ve been clenching my jaw unconsciously so hard for about a month now, and I knocked a tooth loose. I’m doing it now as I type this, but I can’t stop until I realize I’m doing it. Sunday, I started having strange dizzy spells and my eye has been twitching like crazy every ten minutes or so. I lost vision for a bit the other day, just couldn’t focus my eyes. Yet, I didn’t say anything. 

My husband and friends told me to go to the doctor on Tuesday, and I refused because, in my experience, they don’t do anything. 

I woke up last night scratching a hole into my head. I was bleeding and terrified and I couldn’t stop. I sat on the phone with one of my best friends for over an hour, incoherently crying at her, unable to calm down, unable to move, unable to breathe. I saw a shadowy figure slicing my wrists and suffocating me, and I was crying for Misha. Don’t ask, he usually calms me down, but I couldn’t make my imaginary Misha appear. I was shaking so bad that I was in pain from head to toe. Every muscle in my body was at the fullest tightness that it could be. Every. Single. Muscle. I almost called an ambulance. SHOULD have called an ambulance, but I refused to be a burden to anyone. It was 2am, everyone was asleep. So I shook and gasped and cried until I passed out at 3. Woke up shaking at 3.30. then 4. then 5. I slept from 5.30 - 7, and thought, “OK, it’ll be over. I slept.” No. It was not. I wasn’t able to move from the position I woke up in for 2 hours. Not just get out of bed, MOVE at all. I spoke to another friend online and they suggested hospital and again, I said no. I didn’t want to bother anyone, I didn’t want anyone to worry, I didn’t want to go to get help and then have nothing happen. 

Anyway, I went to the doctor, and he took one look at me shaking on the table and helped. He didn’t tell me “oh, just cheer up.” He told me that if my heartbeat was any higher, he would have put me in the hospital. He took it seriously. He gave me a higher dose of meds to “calm my brain down before we do anything else.” which will stop the dizziness and eye twitch, and then we can readjust my meds. 

Simple. 

Yet, I spent all week in pain and hiding the fact that I was barely holding on for fear of what someone would say. For fear of being a burden. For fear of being ignored or my symptoms pushed aside. 

WHAT BULLSHIT. 

I came home, took a pill, passed out, and I already feel better. I’m still shaking and twitching, but I know it’s going to be OK, because someone listened. I spent a week alone and in pain because we still don’t talk about mental illness in an open way. 

We still look at someone who’s depressed and say “Hey, go for a walk, you’ll feel better.” or... “Well, maybe if you lost 40lbs, you’d be happier.” 

NO NO NO NO. 

Stop making people feel bad for feeling bad. 

Some of us have brains that do not fire in the same way that everyone else’s do. That’s nothing to be ashamed of or hiding. 

I SHOULD NOT BE AFRAID TO SEEK MEDICAL ATTENTION WHEN NEEDED JUST BECAUSE OF ANCIENT STIGMA. NO ONE’S GOING TO SHOVE ME IN A STRAIGHT JACKET. 

But that is a legitimate fear of mine. 

It’s WRONG.

It’s DEADLY. 

But I can’t stop it. I’ve been told my entire life that I’m fat and if I lost weight I would feel better, if I practiced some self-care I would be happy. If that works for you, I’m glad. But that doesn’t work for everyone. 

I guess my long ranting point I’m trying to make is: 

TALK ABOUT IT. NORMALIZE SEEKING MEDICAL HELP FOR MENTAL ILLNESS. DON’T REVERT TO PLACATION IF SOMEONE IS IN PAIN. 

SEEK HELP.

[atths--twice]

Rumor Has It...

Going through my stories and I don’t think I’ve posted this here before. I honestly was not super aware of how to post stories here for the longest time. Anyway, even if I had, no reason not to post it again, eh? We could always use more fics to read, right? 

This story was written for the summer fanfic exchange last year. The prompt was this: “Something a la Gillovny Cutting Room party era rumors, but MSR.” Now... this was a little tricky, but I got the job done. : ) 

Hope you enjoy. : ) 

The basement in the J. Edgar Hoover building, was always subject to rumor and urban legend. Even when no one worked down there, nor had any desire to, it was still discussed. Boxes, old files, and copy machines were all that occupied the space for years, and yet stories were still told of it.

There were far too many dark corners where a person could meet for a rendezvous with another for there not to be rumors. No one ventured down there too often, so the space was perfect. The whispers that reached the ears of agents becoming a mixture of fact and fiction.

While time had changed some things, it had not changed everything. The copy machines were taken out, files cleared away, and boxes tossed as they became too weak and ripped when relocation was attempted. A small bathroom was added to the space, and a storage area was walled off to better confine, contain, and organize the  files, keeping them out of the open area and behind a locked door where they could no longer be easily rummaged through. People agreed it looked much better, but still it was not an area with heavy foot traffic or spoken of too often.

That is, until the day Fox “Spooky” Mulder took up residence down there. That was when the rumors really began. He was thought to be a crazy alien nut who liked the weird cases. Cases others would not touch. He was hardly seen wandering the halls. Instead, he immersed himself in his ideas and theories.

Fox Mulder was brilliant, and also quite handsome. Some women overlooked his “spookiness” and tried to get his attention. They flirted when they saw him and asked him about the cases he worked on, but none of them stuck around long. His answers were so long winded that those who asked often required a bread crumb trail to find their way back to reality.

No, for the majority of his time in the basement office, Mulder was considered weird and generally avoided by his colleagues who did not wish to be treated to a story about Sasquatch or aliens. The rumors about him were rampant, but for the most part, Mulder was left to his own devices.

That all changed the day he was assigned a new partner, Dana Scully. She was a fairly new agent, a medical doctor recruited to join the FBI as a forensic pathologist. Dana Scully had arrived with rumors of her own.

“Do you really think that’s her natural hair color?”

“Did you hear she dated Jack Willis? He’s so much older than her. I guess he likes them young.”

Perhaps one of the worst rumors, especially considering she did date Jack, was the name she acquired at the academy: The Ice Queen. She was rumored to turn down men and not “put out,”even after being wined and dined. She was also rumored to be a ball buster who was frigid because she did not date fellow agents. As if her dating life was a measure of who she was as a person.

Women who tried to get Mulder’s attention before Scully showed up, were envious and rude towards her, leaving her disinterested in forming relationships, even with colleagues her same age who had similar backgrounds. This only served to perpetuate the rumors circulated, but Scully did not let the rumors affect her, knowing it would make no difference if she tried to quell them or not. She was not one who required many friends, and she enjoyed her work. She kept her head down and worked, not worrying over relationships, hers or anyone else’s.

Not until early on a Tuesday morning, when a wild rumor flew resulting in them being called to Skinner’s office to answer some questions, did she give it much thought.

Sitting outside his office, waiting for Mulder to arrive, Scully clasped and unclasped her hands, breathing deeply. Closing her eyes, she put her head down, the call to come to Skinner’s office still ringing in her ear, his shout like an echo.

“Hey." She heard Mulder say quietly as he sat next to her on the couch. She opened her eyes and looked at him, watching him smooth down his tie as he smiled slightly at her. “So how angry is he?” He tilted his head toward the door and Scully shook her head.

“Agents? You can go in now,” said Arlene, Skinner’s secretary, with a slight smile. Scully sighed as she stood up and walked toward the door with Mulder following close behind her.

Entering the room, Skinner had his back to them, looking out the window. No one else was in the room, and Scully sighed again as she sat down, Mulder taking the seat beside her. He glanced at her, but she did not look at him, her eyes facing forward waiting for Skinner to turn around.

A few minutes passed before Mulder cleared his throat, and Skinner’s shoulders slumped before he turned around. He stared at both of them, his gaze holding on Scully’s as he breathed deeply.

“I take no pleasure in calling both of you in here to discuss the things that have come to my attention. I believe you know that Agent Scully, considering our phone call earlier,” Skinner said, his eyes burning into hers. She sighed and nodded slightly.

“Sir, I’m afraid I’m out of the loop. Agent Scully said you wanted to see us, but …” Mulder said in confusion, and Skinner sighed.

“Agent Mulder, I’m referring to some information that has reached my ears regarding this past weekend at the team building workshop. More to the point, after said workshop … in the ... hotel lounge area.”

Scully watched Mulder as Skinner spoke and saw his face change, his eyes unable to meet hers save for the quick flick her way. He lowered his head as he leaned forward and locked his fingers together.

“Sir, I’m still confused. As I told you earlier, I don’t remember much about that night. I … I had a couple of glasses of wine and …” she said, looking at Mulder before looking back at Skinner. “I didn’t … I know I wouldn’t get up on stage and sing. Much less play a tambourine …”

“Scully …” Mulder said in a whisper, his head shaking imperceptibly. She kept staring at him, and he finally glanced her way, nodding his head.

“What?” she asked, horrified.

“Sir, could we have-”

“Why don’t I-” Skinner said over Mulder, tilting his head towards the door as he made his exit, leaving the two of them alone.

Scully watched him leave and then turned back to Mulder, her eyebrows raised. “What the hell, Mulder?” she said quietly.

“Scully, it wasn’t just a couple of glasses of wine,” he sighed and stared at her.

“Maybe a mixed drink too, but, I wasn’t out of control. And, Jesus, if I was having fun whose business is it here? It was after the stupid workshop, on my own time,” she said, her anger rising. “I don’t need to be lectured like a child and be forced to apologize for my actions. I’m not going to sit here and listen to this,” she said, starting to stand only to be stopped by Mulder.

“I don’t believe that is why we're here today, Scully,” he quietly said as he held tight to her arm. “Half the people at the workshop were drinking and acting the fool, much worse than you.” She glared at him and angrily shrugged his hand off her arm. “I’m not implying you were acting like a fool, just stating how others were behaving,” he quickly added, smiling slightly.

“If that’s the case, then why the hell am I being singled out? Because I’m a woman? A woman who generally doesn’t “act a fool” as you say, and so I have to be made an example of for the men in the office? You know, this is the kind of bullshit that stops women from pursuing careers in these fields. This boys club mentality that exists and women never have a chance-”

“It’s because I punched Tom Colton for the things he said about you,” came Mulder’s raised voice, immediately silencing her. She stared at him in utter disbelief and he nodded his head.

“What?” she whispered. “Tom? I have no recollection of him being there. Not in any capacity.” She shook her head, and he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

“He wasn’t there in connection to the weekend, he was just … there. I saw him when I was at the bar waiting for our drinks, which were definitely not wine,” he sighed, looking down at his hands before looking at her. “Scully, you were standing on the stage and singing or attempting to, and someone did hand you a tambourine.” He stared at her, and she shook her head, to which he nodded, a small smile on his face.

“Mulder … I have no memory of that, not even a little …” she stopped as she suddenly did have a recollection of standing and shaking a tambourine, people singing and talking loudly, the room unbearably hot. “Oh my God, Mulder.” The door opened as she felt her cheeks flush, embarrassed beyond belief.

“Sir, we’ve come to an understanding and I want to apologize for what I did, and I will speak to Agent Colton and apologize to him as well as soon as we leave your office,” Mulder said, standing up as Skinner entered the room.

“Agent Colton?” Skinner asked, his face puzzled.

“Yes, Sir. Is this not about me punching Agent Colton in the face?”

“You did what, Agent Mulder?” Skinner shouted, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Uhhhh,” Mulder stammered and looked down at Scully for help, but she was still seated and had her hand partially covering her face.

“Agent Mulder, this meeting was about … things that were witnessed and heard outside of Agent Scully’s hotel room. And downstairs by the elevators beforehand,” Skinner said pointedly.

“The ... elevators? Oh ...” Mulder said and sat back down with a sigh, as Scully looked at him, confusion on her face.

Skinner sighed, sitting down behind his desk, and Scully looked between them, waiting for one of them to speak. “Mulder, why did you punch Agent Colton? Do I need to make a call?” Skinner finally asked quietly.

“I … uh, I don’t think so, if he hasn’t said anything?” Mulder said, not sounding entirely certain.

“What would make you punch him, Mulder?” Scully asked him and he looked at her, his eyes telling her she did not need to hear it. “Mulder?” He sighed and shook his head, but she continued staring at him, forcing him to speak.

“He made comments about you that were not becoming of one agent about another. I made myself known and told him to watch his words. He and his buddies seemed to think that was funny, and then he said something else … so I punched him. He deserved it, and I don’t regret it,” Mulder said to her with a glance at Skinner who sighed and shook his head.

“What did he say, Mulder?” she whispered.

“Scully,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I need to know.”

“You don’t,” he told her gently. “That guy is an asshole and that punch was a long time coming. I don’t regret it one bit, other than it took so long.” He smiled, and she stared at him, searching his face. She sighed and leaned back in her chair, her head down.

Skinner cleared his throat and she looked up. “That uh, it doesn’t cover why I called you both here as at least one of those things is not a problem.”

“Neither of them is a problem if you know Agent Colton,” Mulder murmured, and Scully shook her head.

Skinner sighed again and looked down at the desk. “There were a few agents who expressed concern over … actions they saw between the two of you.” He looked up, and Scully frowned at him, still not knowing what he meant. He looked at Mulder who nodded and shook his head, which caused Skinner to sigh once more. “Look, I know that … male/female partnerships are subject to scrutiny more so than traditional same sex partnerships, I do. Just … you two seem to attract more attention, and when I hear things from others …”  he sighed again, and Scully stood abruptly to her feet, finally realizing what they were talking about.

She looked at each of them, unable to speak, her anger and embarrassment too high. Turning around she walked out of the office, past Arlene and to the stairwell, not having any patience or desire to wait for the elevator to take her to the basement office.

Two flights down though, she stopped and sat on the steps, her head in her hands. The night was coming back to her now, tumbling through her brain, almost begging to be remembered.

The heat of the room and the feel of the tambourine in her hands, made her feel happy and giggly, definitely past tipsy but not completely drunk. A drink was handed to her, and she saw Mulder’s smile as he shook his head and stepped back into the crowd.

She drank it down quickly, the alcohol burning her throat and then her stomach, but making her feel braver and bolder. The song ended and the crowd cheered. She laughed and handed the tambourine to some woman next to her, her eyes searching for Mulder as she did.

Stumbling down the small stage, she felt a hand on her elbow and looked to see Mulder beside her, his smile huge. “You’re just full of surprises, Scully,” he said close to her ear as a new song started and everyone cheered again.  

As they came through the crowd of people, she turned to look at him, losing her footing resulting in his arms catching her before she fell. The closeness of him made her dizzy, more so than any alcohol. He smelled so good and she told him so, his eyes widening in response. She laughed and pulled on his tie, bringing him closer to her, and allowing her to smell him closer.

“Scully,” he breathed, his voice low and close to her ear.

“Mulder. God, you make me …” she said, her words drowned out as the crowd erupted again.

Her eyes flew open as she remembered what she said and the words burned like hot lava inside her, destroying everything in its path. How was she supposed to be around him now that she remembered what she said? She needed to leave and never come back, the words too embarrassing to live with, much less think of every day with his eyes watching her.

“Oh my God,” she said, her voice echoing in the empty stairwell, as she suddenly remembered it was more than simply the words she said to him. There had been … touching.

A lot of touching.

She stood up and continued hurriedly down the stairs, determined to grab her things and get out of the office before Mulder saw her. Pushing the door open she looked left and right, walking past shelves of boxes, trying not to be seen.

Unlocking their office door, she put her keys in her pocket and quickly went to grab her bag and her phone. Items secured, she reached for the doorknob as the door opened and there stood Mulder. He stared at her in surprise and then frowned when he saw her bag in her hand.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, closing the door behind him. She could not look at him, the words she said to him that night burning in her mind, teasing her tongue to tell him again.

“Mulder. God, you make me … so wet.”

“I … uh yeah … I forgot I have … um ...” she stammered and tried to step past him, but his hand on her wrist stopped her, forcing her eyes to meet his. Hazel and full of worry and concern, they were the same as that night …

The feel of his hands around her waist, his gasp of surprise at her words, his breath smelling of alcohol, made her knees weak as she stumbled into him. He tightened his grip before pulling back slightly to look at her. His eyes were open, and she felt she could see into his very soul if she looked long enough.

She wrapped his tie around her hand and tugged, bringing his mouth close to hers. Their breath intermingled as his fingers dug into her waist. Someone bumped her from behind, and she fell into his chest. His hard, muscular chest.

But that was not all that was hard.

He groaned and he pulled her closer, making her gasp. “Scully,” he breathed in her ear, and she shuddered against him. “I think … think we should head upstairs.” She nodded against his chest, and he pulled back to look at her. His eyes moved all over her face, and she smiled.

He turned her and led her out, walking behind her. Her pulse was racing. Every place he touched her felt like fire. One she never wanted to extinguish.

At the bank of elevators, he pushed the UP button and as he turned around, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket. She pulled hard until his mouth was on hers, and she kissed him. His hands went to her waist and then he was pulling her into the elevator, his mouth fuzed to hers. He pulled back, breathing hard, shaking his head.

“Mulder,” she moaned, reaching for his tie, but he stopped her, holding her hands between their bodies. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. He kept a hold on her hand and walked her down the hall.

At her door, she pulled him in for another kiss, falling against the door as he pushed into her, his tongue exploring her mouth. Her hands went to his hair, and she dug her nails into his neck, making him audibly groan.

He pulled back again, resting his forehead against hers. “Scully,” he whispered and she scraped her fingers along his neck, breathing hard. “Where is your room key?”

“Pocket, I think,” she said, her words feeling and sounding slurry even to her own ears. Mulder nodded and felt in her suit jacket pockets before he found it and opened her door.

She stumbled back, taking her shoes off as she walked inside the room, then trying to unbutton her jacket but her fingers did not cooperate. Forgetting about it, she stumbled to the bed and sat down. The room began to spin and she shook her head, before she fell back and remembered no more.

“I need to go, Mulder,” she said, barely above a whisper, and suppressing a sob. “Please … let me go.”

“You remember,” he said, a statement, not a question, and she nodded, her eyes downcast, embarrassment washing over her. “What do you remember?” Her head snapped up, and she found his eyes soft and understanding, not teasing and not judging.

“I remember …” she began, and he took the bag from her hand, setting it on the small desk, his eyes never leaving hers. “Uhhh …”

“Do you remember my hands being on your waist?” he asked as he put them there once again. “Do you remember how close you were to me? How it felt as though our very breath was mating?” She closed her eyes and leaned into him, whimpering quietly as she did. “Do you remember how my heart was racing? How my breath felt frozen in my chest because of your words, and the thoughts they created in my head?” He pulled her toward him, and she reached for his tie, realizing this was going to end way better than she thought it would when she had considered bolting out the door.

“Do … do you remember how your tie felt like silk when I touched it? How I wanted to run it over other parts of my body to see if it was as soft there, as it was in between my fingers?” she whispered, tugging his tie and making him moan her name. “Do you remember how the heat of the room made me want to strip all my clothes off, but I would have still been too hot, your touch making me ache? Do you remember that, Mulder?” She pulled back to look at him, her eyes seeking that he felt the same way she did, one hundred percent.

“I remember all of that, Scully,” he whispered. “I remember that and so much more.”

“Show me, Mulder,” she said, her fingers under his tie and seeking out the buttons on his shirt, pushing the first one she found through the buttonhole. One finger slid inside and scratched at the heated skin she found there. “Show me everything you remember.”

He stared at her for seconds that felt like forever, before he leaned in and kissed her, his lips just as soft as she remembered. His fingers gripped her waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck, his hair and skin as soft and warm as she remembered. He groaned in his throat as his tongue once again explored her mouth, as amazing and delicious as she remembered.

And once again, when she whispered in his ear the effect he had on her, his eyes widened, and he gasped, just as she remembered.

Yes, the basement office in the J. Edgar Hoover building, the one that was home to Fox Mulder and Dana Scully (although her name plate had been ordered, received, and lay in the desk drawer, the execution of it being hung up by either of them had failed) was known for being where odd things resided and strange theories were discussed. On that Tuesday morning, however, there was nothing odd about what was happening up against the wall, causing the doorknob to rattle, and moans to escalate to louder and louder decibels.

Times change, but places where memories have been made, especially the really good ones, the very walls themselves have a tendency to remember. In particular, the walls of a shared basement office, that was avoided by so many and thus created a rather private space for a tryst that had been waiting patiently for seven long years.

[rainy-day-gracie]

Old Friends 7

Hello!! 

This chapter KILLED me. Just get ready. 

More angst and fluff!!

Spencer Reid x Reader

Enjoy :)

Chapter 7: 

Just breathe. In and out. 

That’s what I told myself as I rode the elevator up to the BAU. 

It’s been almost six months since the day I realized I was going to live. Six months since someone I called my friend beat me to a pulp until my ex-boyfriend put a bullet in his brain. 

Riding up the elevator felt so much like my first day starting at the BAU. Except this time, I actually knew these people. And after my former experience, I couldn’t even bring myself to trust any of them anymore, even though I knew they would never try to hurt me. 

I had thought that before also. 

The first person that saw me was Morgan. “Hey, pretty girl is back!” 

A genuine smile fell across my lips. “I couldn’t stand watching baking shows anymore. Figured it was time to get back to work.”

“We’re so happy you’re back, YLN,” JJ said as she patted my arm with a smile. I fought back the flinch reaction I had to her touch. 

“Are you absolutely sure six months is enough time?” I heard Spencer ask from behind me. 

I didn’t even turn around when I answered. “Yes, Spencer, I’m fine.” 

He didn’t look too convinced when he stood next to me. Prentiss smiled when she saw me, and she walked over to stand next to JJ. 

“We may have a surprise for you.” Prentiss gestured for me to follow her to the briefing room.

“Please tell me it’s cake,” I whispered to JJ. She laughed and nodded. 

I realized when I walked in that it was red velvet cake. It was my favorite. 

Now it only reminded me of my blood spilling over Spencer’s hands in that basement. 

My smile never wavered. “You guys are the absolute best.”

I heard the thudding of Garcia’s high heels and I turned around to face her. “Oh my gosh, the beautiful genius woman has returned!”

She ran forward to hug me, and I immediately shrank into myself and took a few steps backwards. She retreated with an embarrassed look on her face, and I quickly tried to comfort her. “Sorry... um, I’m still struggling with touch.”

“No, no, I’m sorry. It’s just a habit.” She looked so sad in that moment that I felt bad about retreating.

“It is very wonderful to see you, Penelope.” I lightly patted her on the arm. 

Hotch and Rossi walked into the room. 

“It is very good to have you back, YLN,” Hotch shook my hand and Rossi kissed both my cheeks, making me smile. 

The day passed slowly, catching up on paperwork. I felt Spencer keep glancing at me, and I finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Spencer if you keep looking at me like I’m going to fall apart, I will slap your pretty face so hard.” 

He flushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m just telling you that you don’t need to do that. I’m fine.” I could feel the lie in my mouth, and I knew Spencer could see it on my face. 

I am not fine. Not even close. Every time I look in a mirror I see the scars riddled across my body. Whenever I sleep I hear my captor’s voice whispering in my ear. The memories seemed to laugh at me. You may have escaped Barry, but you can’t escape us. 

As five o’clock neared, I was counting the minutes until I could drop the act of the strong survivor. 

My heart sunk as I watched Garcia walk across the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a case!”

Disappointment must’ve been clear as day on my face because Spencer and Morgan pulled me aside before we went into the BAU room. 

“Hey, YLN, I’m sure Hotch would let you sit this one out if you asked.” Morgan looked at me with his concerned dark eyes, and a knot of anger rolled in my stomach. 

“Why do you guys keep acting like I’m some delicate little thing?” I hissed at them. “I’m sick of it!”

“Because you’ve been through more than almost any of us on this team and we all care about you.” Spencer crossed his arms defiantly. “It’s totally acceptable for you to not be completely okay.” 

I rolled my eyes and pushed past them into the BAU room. “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not,” I heard Spencer whisper. 

Garcia pointed to the TV after we all had gotten seated. “You are headed to Nashville, Tennessee, where three women, all unidentified, have been found murdered in different motels. All of the bodies were discovered on a Saturday morning.”

The crime scene photos made me want to vomit. The women were found in the motel room bathtubs, severely tortured and beaten, cause of death being a strong slash across the neck. The bile rose up in my throat, and I swallowed it bitterly. 

“Um, the killer likely met them on Friday night, maybe at a bar or club. That means he’s a charmer, he could get these women into a motel room with him.” I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself that I was okay. At least I added something, so the team won’t catch on to the intense churning in my stomach. 

“Something triggered him to start killing, and now that he’s started he can’t stop. Wheels up in 30, and YLN, come see me for a minute.” 

Shit. That can’t be good.

I stepped into Hotch’s office a few minutes later. “You wanted to see me?”

Hotch looked into my eyes, and I was thankful he was the only one not looking at me like I was going to shatter at any given time. “I’m not sure I want you in the field, YLN.” 

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. “Excuse me? I passed all my psych evaluations, and I’ve been cleared from two doctors to come back to work.”

“I know.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Hotch huffed a heavy breath. “I’m worried about you being in the field and painful memories coming back. I know from personal experience that can lead to recklessness and impulsive decisions.” 

I raised my eyebrows and laughed bitterly. “You think I won’t keep my cool.” 

“That’s my fear, yes.” 

While turning to walk out of the office, I turned to Hotch. “Painful memories don’t have to come back, Hotch. They’re always there. Surely you can understand that?”

Hotch grabbed his go bag and followed me out. “All too well.”

__

I ended up with Prentiss and Morgan at the Nashville FBI Field Office. After hours of speculation over motive and victimology, we headed to the hotel around 1 AM. 

Dark images filled my head more than usual as I sat in the backseat of the SUV. Morgan and Prentiss didn’t speak as we pulled up to the hotel, the rest of the team had already settled in. 

I pounded on Spencer’s door. I felt bad that it was 3 AM, but I needed to see him, to know he was alive. 

It had been a month since my kidnapping and torture, and I hadn’t slept since. 

He cracked the door open to see me, in my pajamas and messy bed head, standing outside his apartment. Spencer swung the door open wide, letting me in. “What's wrong?”

We sat on his couch, and I cried for the first time in a month. He didn’t say anything, he just held me as I broke down. “Spencer… when he tried to… hurt me, I thought of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought about all the little things and all the big things that we’ve gone through… I cherished them in that moment because… I really thought I was going to die. And I wanted to be thinking of you when… I finally did die.” 

Spencer just shook his head. “But you didn’t die, YFN. You have to remember that.” 

After five hours of sleep, the call at 6 AM alerted us that they had another body. The team met in the lobby, everyone’s faces looking grim. 

“He’s sped up his time table majorly. Normally he’s only killed on Friday nights. It’s Tuesday.” JJ said in a low voice. 

Hotch huffed a tired breath. “Alright, Reid, YLN, go to the new crime scene. Go and change then head over there as soon as you can. Check to see if anything is new or frantic. We’ll be at the station.”

“Got it.” As I went to go change, a ball formed in the pit of my stomach. How was I supposed to look at the mangled bodies of women when I could’ve just as easily been one of them?

__

When we pulled up to the motel the sun was rising over the horizon. I tried not to get distracted by Spencer’s cute messy bed head and the way he seemed to glow in the sun rise.

We walked into the room, and the scent of blood hit me like a truck. Spencer noticed my hesitation, but didn’t say anything.

The bathtub was nearly full of this woman’s blood, and her black and blue skin stood out against her pale complexion. “Major escalation,” I murmured. As I got a closer look, the more I wanted to run out. “He violated her with the knife this time.”

I turned back to face Spencer and I saw his furrowed eyebrows. He stepped forward to look at the victim’s face. “Up until now he’s chosen seemingly low risk victims, but this woman looks to be a prostitute.”

I sighed, closing my eyes. “He’s getting antsy. He can’t wait for crowded Friday nights anymore, he needed an accessible victim pool that would get in a car with him.”

I couldn’t take the metallic smell of blood in that motel room any longer. After pushing past officers and CSI, I took a deep breath of fresh cold air outside. 

“What do you think this new victimology means for future victims?” Spencer said from behind me. 

“I think… he’s hunting again tonight. And we need to be ready.”

__

The warmth of the coffee cup in my hand soothed me as I staked out in front of Lana’s Motel. It was my idea to stake out all the motels in the geographic profile, and the numbers were so high that we were all on our own in our SUVs. 

About three hours had gone by when I saw a small dark green car pull into the motel extremely quickly. I watched as a man got out and went into the main lobby to get a room. The man came back out and pulled his car into an isolated spot in the parking lot. He grabbed someone from the passenger’s seat and seemed to throw her into one of the motel rooms. 

I listened at the door for some kind of noise, and I dialed Hotch’s number as soon as I heard cries for help. “Hotch, I got him. He’s in Room 14A at Lana’s Motel.”

“Listen to me, do not engage. He is extremely unstable and paranoid. Do not enter the room.” Hotch was almost pleading with me. “Tell me you won’t go in until backup arrives.”

A terrified scream was muffled through the door, and I couldn’t help but think of my own screams echoing in that dark basement. “Hotch, she’s screaming for help. I can’t just leave her.”

“YLN-” Hotch started, and I hung up the phone and kicked the motel door in with my gun drawn. 

A young woman was on her knees, a larger figure holding a knife to her throat behind her. “Please help,” she whispered to me.

“You don’t wanna do this.” I kept my voice even and calm. “I know that you’ve been rejected your entire life, and you're angry about that. I understand. But why throw away your life for…” I jutted my chin out to the terrified woman. “Her?”

He huffed a laugh and he unknowingly slightly lowered the knife. 

I continued with my even voice. “Look at her. Do you really want me to shoot you over some blubbering mess?” The words hurt to say, especially now that I know what it’s like to be her. To be a victim. 

Police lights illuminated the dirty motel room, and he finally made a decision. 

The rest of my team burst in the room as I was cuffing the disgusting killer that I outsmarted. 

__

Hotch was pissed.

“What were you thinking? The risks that you took? This is exactly what I was worried about!” 

I leaned against my SUV, the lecture starting to get tiring after 15 minutes. Hotch was pacing frantically and Spencer was leaning against the car next to me. I’ve never seen either of them this mad before.

“Look Hotch, you can’t look me in the eye and tell me that you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing. The woman was screaming for God’s sake, what was I supposed to do?” 

He didn’t have an answer for me. “Take a walk, YLN.”

I huffed a breath and pushed past Hotch and Spencer to stand by the motel pool, away from everything. 

After a few minutes I felt Spencer stand next to me.

“That was a big risk, YFN.” 

I rolled my eyes.  “Everything we do is a risk. I couldn’t just stand by listening to her scream for help when…” my voice hitched.

Spencer looked me in the eyes. “When what?”

“When I know how it feels.” A rebellious tear rolled down my cheek, and I tried to keep my chin from quivering. 

Spencer lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “When you were taken, I was completely panicking. I just kept thinking about how fast it happened and how I feel like it was my fault. There was a moment when we found you, bleeding in that basement, where I really thought that I would lose you… and it was the worst feeling I’ve ever had. I’m not mad that you ignored Hotch, I’m mad that you don’t even think about risks anymore. You’re not okay, no matter how many times you deny it.” 

“Don’t you think I know that?!” I almost yelled at him. “I know that I’m not okay better than anyone. There’s scars to prove it, so you don’t have to keep reminding me.” Hot angry tears streamed down my cheeks, and Spencer enveloped me in a hug.

“You can’t be alone right now.”

__

Spencer and I both have a taste for the simpler ways of life. As I was sitting in his library of an apartment, he played soft tunes on his keyboard, and we didn’t speak. We sat like that for hours, him playing the piano and me just sitting on his sofa in silence. 

“Spencer, dance with me.” I tugged on Spencer’s arm, trying to get him away from the book he was pouring over. 

“Why?” He closed the book and looked up at me. “We’re in the middle of the MIT library and there’s no music.”

“Because I’m your girlfriend, and we’ve never danced before.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes with a smile. He stood up and wrapped an arm around my waist, and I rested my head on his shoulder, swaying gently. We danced like that until the librarian yelled at us to leave, and she chased us out as we laughed, giddy with love. 

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders from behind. “Dance with me.”

Spencer chuckled as he placed one hand on my arm, the other hand still expertly playing. “Like in college?” 

“Yes.”

He turned around as he stood up, smoothly placing his arm around my waist, holding me like I was the most precious piece of treasure in the world. Scars and all. 

He held our hands out and pressed his nose to mine. We swayed as gently as that night in the MIT library when we were 19. His breath smelled like the strawberry ice cream we had eaten earlier tonight, and I found it simply intoxicating.

There were no words as he pressed his lips to mine. We didn’t need them. 

We had each other memorized. 

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