#i don't even bother going to doctors anymore

[sga-owns-my-soul]

as someone who has been misdiagnosed at best and fully ignored and not believed at worst about my health issues, it's really frustrating when people tell me i don't really have something unless a doctor has diagnosed me. doctors don't believe i have any issues to begin with, why are they supposed to be trusted over me?? like i get they have degrees but idiots get degrees literally all the time. idk it's just really frustrating when i tell people i have food sensitives and they don't believe me unless i can procure an allergy test. i tell people i have chronic pain and unless a doctor told me that, it doesn't count. i'm not allowed to identify as autistic until a doctor tells me i can. like i get looking something up once isn't the same as a medical degree but idk can we maybe just. stop pretending doctors are the only ones capable of telling what's wrong with someone? can we maybe trust that sometimes people do actually know what's going on with their body and their health?

[itsjustdg]

Just learned this condo I've been living in for a year and a half has "extremely high" levels of mold.

There is a high likelihood that this is a huge culprit behind why I feel so terrible all the time. Of course, COVID had its part, as does long COVID, but THERE IS MOLD IN MY WALLS AND IT QUITE POSSIBLY IS MAKING ME SICKER.

Thank the Lord I'm already moving out this weekend.

[imissthefire]

I genuinely can't remember if things have ever been this bad. I don't know if I can recover, I don't even know if I care to. Things just... have been an ongoing nightmare for over a year and doctors aren't listening to me and they're making it seem like the health complications that's made me the most suicidal I've been in a long time if not ever isn't a big deal. I can't stand this shit.

[reiderwriter]

🧺 Any More 🧺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.

A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 

You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 

But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 

Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 

You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 

“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 

What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 

You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 

You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 

He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 

You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 

Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 

You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 

“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 

“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 

Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 

He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 

“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 

“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 

“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 

“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 

You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 

“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 

“Uncomfortable.” 

“Or at your breakfast bar?” 

“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 

He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 

In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 

Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 

Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 

As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 

Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 

The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 

The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 

When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 

“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 

“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 

“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 

“Spencer, its 2pm.” 

“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 

“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 

He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 

“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 

“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 

You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 

“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 

100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 

After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 

“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 

As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 

“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 

“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 

“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 

“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 

He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 

He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 

“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 

“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 

“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 

“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 

“Laundry?” 

“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 

He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 

“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 

“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 

He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 

“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 

“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 

“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 

Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 

You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 

It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 

The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 

You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 

“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 

You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 

“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 

“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 

“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 

“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 

“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 

You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 

The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.

“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 

“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 

“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 

“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 

“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 

You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 

“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 

“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 

He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 

When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 

“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 

“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 

“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 

“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 

You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 

“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 

“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 

“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 

Your voice cracked again. 

“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 

“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 

“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 

“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 

“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 

He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 

“And you deserve a break.” 

“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 

“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 

You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 

“You all had reasons, I-” 

“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 

For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 

So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 

But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 

His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 

“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 

When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 

“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 

A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 

“To me, you are perfect.”

His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 

“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 

“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 

His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 

“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 

His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.

His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 

“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 

“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 

“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.

“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 

“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 

Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.

The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 

“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 

He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 

You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 

You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 

You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.

[xxlelaxx]

I'm so over people making their problems someone else's problem. Listen buddy, you got issues, you take care of it. Don't make everyone else around you do it. Figure it out cause everyone else has to do that too <3

[yuorumi]

─ when annoyances turn to comprehension

dr. ratio's vexation in being friends with a fool in love.

note. gender neutral reader & inspired by @/genshinarchives. be warned that I have not yet caught up with the quest so they might be a little ooc but if it works it works. unedited.

dr. ratio's just about had it with you.

no, you weren't one of ailing students who couldn't comprehend his brilliant and meticulous lectures on things many couldn't decipher heads or tails of unless they've had his guidance. and even then, the amount of students who would reluctantly approach him after class is a number far greater than he'd like for there to be.

you were not a coworker either, getting on his last nerves just as he was about to retire for the night and soak up a long needed bath (aeon knows just how much he's depending on that just to make it through the next day) and asking him questions that make him ponder why they were even a teacher at all.

no, dr. ratio's never even met you.

however, from the stories he's heard about you from the insane gambler, he's had just about enough information to write an entire encyclopedia about every single detail in your life and over. things like your usual routine, what you like for breakfast, what snacks you pick up from the store and the adorable habits you seem to have when you're just sitting around breathing.

for once, the luminous genius finds himself cursing his ability to remember things down to the last detail and growing overly concerned over the fact his eyes might actually roll to the back of his head from doing it so many times. the number of migraines you induce on him when he doesn't even know what you look like is a figure he doesn't bother to keep count of anymore.

ratio swears that when he's in the presence of the blond there's a guarantee he's going to hear your name from his lips at least thrice. anything and everything can remind aventurine of you, apparently.

they could be talking about chalk or the most complicated mathematics to mankind and he'd still hear your name.

"... fools I tell you! I've given everything they need to solve such a simple problem and they still can't even begin to comprehend it! "

"speaking of problems, I wonder if [name]'s managed to find a way to get their computer fixed yet..." cue yet another eye roll.

by now he's sure that you and aventurine had to be dating, there's just no other explanation for his infatuation and his need to bring your presence everywhere with him. but when he found out that you two weren't, he was left momentarily stumped.

"tell me, should I go this shade of green or this purple? "

"I don't know why you're asking me such a question when you already have a lover to answer them for you."

"... we aren't dating, doctor."

"... what? "

ratio's never been more confused in his entire life than in that moment.

and when aventurine finally has the gal to introduce you to him, he finds that perhaps the information he has about you stored somewhere within in vast brain might come in handy after all.

[cupidkenji]

Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

1.

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.” 

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers. 

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying. 

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could. 

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you. 

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question. 

Damn. Tough crowd. 

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang. 

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal. 

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

2.

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac. 

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home. 

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him. 

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right. 

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of  “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him. 

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action. 

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest. 

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?” 

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop. 

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing. 

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here. 

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

3.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said. 

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently. 

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him. 

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped. 

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital. 

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it. 

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you. 

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Know what? I'm gonna try throwing my hat into the ring for Danny Phantom.

I accidentally electrocuted myself as a kid and never told anybody- nothing serious, I grabbed the three exposed prongs of a half plugged in laptop charger in the middle of the night and didn't want to get in trouble since nobody else was awake. Even if it isn't fatal, it's terrifying and your vision completely blacks out and your arm tingles for days afterwards, and for the whole day after you got shocked your fingers on the hand that grabbed the prongs will randomly twitch, open or close or jerk to the side. You have no control, it's like when the doctor hits your knee to check your reflexes.

Now, from what I can tell from the scene where Danny went ghost for the first time, he really was electrocuted. From what I can tell, his ghost and human halves seem kinda separate- not completely, but the change is there. Where is this going?

Danny never told anyone about the accident- not anybody that could help him, anyways. I propose that, since he never got medical treatment or physical/occupational therapy after the accident, his motor function deteriorates over time.

More specifically, his small motor function is effected- I will be using personal experience in this section, since my small motor skills were so bad I couldn't use zippers or tie my shoes until I was 12, but I'll try putting things in reverse.

Danny starts fumbling with tying his shoes, laughing it off as being tired. Buttons take a few minuets, and even snap buttons become a bit hard. Odd, mildly confusing, but nothing to be concerned about. Then it progresses. He can't properly use tools anymore, it's like nothing is ever precise enough, everything takes a few tries to get it right. His fingers are fumbling everything, his handwriting turns to chickenscratch that not even he can read at times, he struggles to comb his hair because it's hard to coordinate movements, his back teeth are always textured because he struggles to brush his teeth and he can't really reach the back ones properly anymore.

I don't know if this is connected to small motor or not, but he starts dragging his feet and the toes of his shoes wear out quicker because walking while lifting his feet any higher doesn't feel right. This was something I had fixed during occupational therapy, but I don't know if it was just me or not.

Eventually, it becomes sunlight-on-clean-pact-snow levels of blindingly obvious that something is incredibly wrong. Danny's hair is knotted and half-matted because he is unable to brush it properly, when he smiles there is plaque on some parts of his teeth and not others, he always wears slip-on shoes or his laced shoes are always untied, buttons always seem like they could unslip because they're only half-buttoned, zippers in his jackets getting stuck in shirts and he doesn't bother to fix it, teachers can no longer read his assignments and his friends can't read his notes. Nobody can ignore it, but nobody knows how to help when Danny gets so clearly frustrated when he has to do something with his hands and it just doesn't work. It seems like he suddenly developed a hole in his lip, since he always had to lean far over his bowl or plate to not end up on food with his shirt because his hands can't hold silverware steady.

But Phantom? None of those issues. He became a ghost after being electrocuted, of course. Why would there be damage from the initial creation of this half? It could be why he ends up enjoying fighting the ghosts, his hands actually work with him instead of against him.

Feel free to take this idea and do what you want with it, I really liked writing this!

Also if you use this for a fic, please comment the link if possible, I wanna see all the ways people use this :)

Edit: So I started a mini-series about this. Is it any good? Probably not, but writing makes me happy.

Noticed But Hoping For The Best

[rentalboos]

if you want my humble trans opinion to the Star Beast Trans discussion, here it goes:

a) Rose is a non-binary trans gal, I think when they posted the character profile she even used she/they pronouns? Not 100% on that anymore tho. But as a non-binary trans guy, I really just kinda smiled at that

b) the whole "binary - non-binary" thing is just the modern who version of "reverse the polarity of the neutron flow". It has no meaning, it was a childish moron split into 3 making shit up that sounded smart and dramatic, don't try to give it meaning, it's funnier that way

c) It's nice that it's confusing because I have never seen so many cis dw fans having an avid, sweet conversation about gender identity and trying to understand and listening to us. hell yeah. representation works.

d) finally confirming the doctor as non-binary and genderfluid was really nice if they hadn't followed it up with "a male-presenting Time Lord would never understand". Way to ruin a good thing. It's really the only thing that bothered me tho

e) Seeing all the bigots lose their mind over the "did you just assume the meep's pronouns" moment is so fun, they really don't know what to do when their one joke is being remade into our joke. And the Doctor going "oh yeah, I do that too" was maybe the funniest thing on DW in ages, absolutely stunning, 10/10, no notes

[solitary-traveler]

Hi hiii! I'm actually new here, and gosh i love your writing like since day 1 🛐🛐🛐

Would it be alright to request something like angst! Scaramouche where he's in an established relationship with y/n who decides to become immortal/ doll like so they can live for liek, an eternity with Scara? They could seek out Dottore. Their constitution would be more doll-like compared to Scara, with the visible ball joints and the creaking?? sounds when moving.

The thing would be, the reason Scaramouche fell inlove with them is because of their 'humanity'. You may end it however you wish to! ^^

The Price of Eternity

Loving Scaramouche was never easy He was immortal an you were not

Scaramouche x gn!reader

Notes: Hiiii thank you so much @whitesheeponthestreet, both for this and the compliment!! This was actually kinda fun to write! I like this prompt. In any case, here you go. Sorry it took so long 🙏 I kinda feel like my writing downgraded—

Art: shihatsu_0 on X

Warning: Just angst :) with a slight tinge of comfort?

Loving Scaramouche was never easy.

He was immortal, and you were not.

You sway with the grim reaper, and spin with the deities. Favored by the gods, you were gifted a heart that sang the most wonderful melodies—a song Scara cherished, worshipped, and loved.

Your entirety was a manifestation of those identified as "humans". Yet, it disgusts you.

Mortality means a limited lifespan. All beings die eventually, but human life is transient—a fleeting moment, a passing memory.

That frightens you.

You don't want to betray him.

Aware of the past tribulations carved into his being, you wanted to spare him more torment. He acts tough, but he's as fragile as glass—a precious, porcelain doll. He's barely holding on, and you don't want to shatter that.

You don't want to leave him alone.

Vanishing from his side—in any shape, way, or form—would be a betrayal. It's a pit you refuse to fall into.

That's what brought you here, to the presence of the Doctor.

"Are you sure about this decision? You know it would be irreversible," Dottore hums, hovering over you as you're strapped to a stained mattress. He feigns concern, his lips stretched into a wide smile.

"You can still say no if you'd like."

Despite his warning, he's already rummaging through the scattered tools on a nearby desk. His hands shake as he grabs a clipboard, reading a few lines before moving on to the next page. You simply shake your head in response.

"I know. But I want to do this. I have to."

The sinister smile never leaves Dottore's face. He taps the checklist and promptly snatches a syringe. He shakes the blue fluid inside before his gaze returns to you. Even with the mask, you know his eyes are sparkling with sadistic pleasure.

"Buckle up then, sweetheart. I'm not going to go easy on you."

You nod.

Not like it bothers you.

You love him too much to care about your humanity.

Loving you was never easy.

You were mortal, and he was not.

He wasn't indulged by any god, nor pampered by fate. He was merely created, tossed aside, and left to rot.

If only puppets could rot.

But none of that mattered anymore. His decisions and choices were his alone. No deity or destiny could interfere with the world he forged. The path he walked was stained with blood and lies, a passage he sculpted to scrub away every last trace of human emotion.

He wasn't born with a heart, so why bother with feelings?

Unfortunately, you—with your foolish and ardent self—managed to trespass the safe haven he struggled to create.

But that didn't stop him from loving you.

He was fascinated by your humanity.

How could something so delicate and insubstantial coexist with those that have higher utility?

It was all too intriguing. Compelling. Oh, how he loved it.

How he loved the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, your shifting temperatures that somehow warmed and cooled him down. But your heart... Oh, how he loved your heart.

The beating, the rhythm, everything. It was a constant reminder that you were alive. He liked that. He used to believe he solely existed for the sake of being. Yet your heart, the ever-present voice of reason, screamed, "You're alive too!"

After all these years, he finally felt like living.

Love was never easy.

You were now immortal, and so was he.

Yet, he doesn't feel as happy as he should. His chest feels empty. Hollow. As if something is missing—something more than a heart.

He holds you in his arms as you sleep peacefully. He raises his hand, slowly running his fingers over the ball sockets where your joints now connect. He recalls watching you stumble inside your shared apartment, your movements stiff as you clumsily made your way to him. He recalls your overjoyed smile as you hugged him, going on and on about how you now shared the same lifespan as him. Yet all he could think of was how smooth your skin was. Too smooth for his liking.

He thinks back to the sound of your joints creaking and grating with every move you make. It was horrible, the detestable screech irritating his ears. He looks back to that day, where he held your hand and pressed his lips against your forever cold skin. He remembers whispering, "I'd love you, no matter what you are."

But could he truly do so?

Scaramouche's thoughts spiral as he watches you, immobile and serene in his arms. He tries to convince himself that this new you, this immortal you, is what he always wanted. But the reality gnaws at him. Your once warm skin, a constant source of comfort, is now a cold, smooth surface that feels foreign against his touch. The rhythmic beating of your heart, which had been a soothing lullaby to his otherwise restless existence, is now a deafening silence that haunts him.

Every time he sees your stiff movements, hears the grating sounds of your joints, a pang of regret pierces through him. He had agreed to this transformation, thinking it was the solution to keep you by his side forever. But now, he questions whether it was the right choice. Was his love so fragile that it needed this drastic measure to endure?

He wrestles with his emotions, the conflict raging within him. He had always believed that love transcends physical form, that it is an unwavering force. But now, faced with this new reality, he feels the weight of his own hypocrisy. The physical changes have altered the very essence of what made you, you. The warmth, the breath, the heartbeat—gone.

As he looks at you, he feels a deep sense of loss. The vibrant, living being he fell in love with has been replaced by a lifeless replica. He wonders if he has been selfish, if his fear of losing you has led to this hollow existence. The guilt gnaws at him, amplifying his internal turmoil.

He was still going to love you forever.

But it will never be the same.

Loving you before had been like black coffee, strong and invigorating. This was like decaf—lacking the essence that made it real. He mourns the loss of the person you were, even as he clings to the shell that remains.

[aniesvision]

𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𐂃 𝚋𝚏𝚏! 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝚡 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚏𝚏! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 (𝒈𝒚𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒔𝒕), 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓/𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 (𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇), 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒙𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒚, 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 (𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚), 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒇! 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈), 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏/𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕!𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕, 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒉𝒊! 𝒔𝒐, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒅 (🤭) 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒅𝒅 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒔𝒐 𝒊 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕! 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓: 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒖𝒑 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒙𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒚, 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒖𝒕

𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓: 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅, 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚. 𝑨𝒍𝒔𝒐, 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝒘𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒅, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 ♡︎

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

TEXTS

"hey matt, can u pick me up at the doctor?"

"Hey, of course, you okay?"

"yeah just have been waiting for an uber to accept for like 20 minutes and im starting to get a bit anxious"

"Send me your location, I'll be there in a second"

"*location*"

END OF TEXTS

Not even 10 minutes later I see Matt's car parked by the sidewalk. I take a deep breath and get in the car without saying a word, my heart beats racing as I try not to think too much.

-Are you sure you're okay? -He asks, looking at me with concern.

-Can we just go? I don't want to be here anymore. -I sink into my seat, crossing my arms over my chest and feeling my chest getting heavy.

He just nods and starts driving back to his own house. I was supposed to go there anyway, so he didn't even bother asking. I stay silent all the way, just thinking about what the doctor said.

When we finally arrive I climb upstairs to the kitchen, filling a glass with water and taking a few sips. Matt followed slowly behind, watching me carefully and waiting until I was done to grab my wrist and drag me to his room. He closes and locks the door behind him, pointing to his bed.

-Alright, tell me what happened. -He sits on the edge of his bed, looking at me with a serious and worried look.

I can already feel tears welling up my eyes and I look away from him, trying to gather my thoughts, fidgeting my fingers with a shaky breath.

-It's not a big deal, I just... -I cross my legs, looking down at my fingers. -I'm scared of doing what my doctor advised me to.

Matt keeps looking at me, kicking his shoes off and propping his weight in one palm.

-You need to be more specific, sweetheart. -His voice is soft, but demanding at the same time.

I sigh, looking up at him with my cheeks red in embarrassment and eyes glossy with tears.

-I was at the gynecologist. -I say, and he just nods, using his free hand to motion me to keep talking.

-She talked nonstop about how important it is to know yourself, to explore and... uhm... y'know... do things? Like, to yourself or with someone else. -I say, my heart beating so fast that I could feel it hitting my chest.

-Yeah, so? -He says, not getting the point.

I bite my lips for a second, not wanting to confess my real fear, but knowing that he'd find out anyway because he knows me more than I know myself.

-So I'm a scared virgin. -I laugh through my nose, wiping a tear away from my cheek.

Matt tilts his head, still confused, of course, he knows I'm a virgin, we've talked about it before, he's my best friend, and he knows everything about me.

-Okay... so just use your hands? -He asks like he is pointing out the obvious.

-I'm scared of that too. -I whisper, too embarrassed to say it out loud, immediately turning my head away.

My entire body was shaking in anxiety, tears still rolling down my cheeks, heart beating fast and loud, it's like I could hear it whenever we were silent. It's hard to breathe, but I try to keep my cool, it shouldn't be anything serious, but I just can't help it. I'm a 20-year-old girl that's still a virgin and it's scared of sex, it's fucking stupid.

-You never...? -I hear his voice again, low and hesitant like he was asking a forbidden question.

I shake my head no and his eyes widen in shock. My eyes find his once more, trying to understand what he was thinking about.

-What are you scared of? -Matt moves to sit beside me in the bed, resting his back on the headboard.

-I don't know, it's just... scary. -I sigh, sniffing and closing my eyes, resting my head on the headboard as well. -I think I just never trusted anyone enough to do it, and I don't like myself, so why would I do this with someone I don't like?

My explanation makes him frown his eyebrows, resting his hand on my knee.

-I'm sorry to hear that, but you don't have to be scared, it can be a good thing to let someone in sometimes.

I turn my head to look at him, taking in his words.

-I don't know. I never really thought about taking the next step, I only trust my friends and it's not the same thing, whenever I meet someone I just keep seeing them as friends and it ruins the chance of me trusting them to something else.

Matt nods his head in understanding, smiling softly.

-Have you ever felt attracted to someone?

I take a deep shaky breath, looking up at the ceiling.

-I guess so. I do think a few of my friends are good-looking. -I shrug, furrowing my eyebrows.

-Am I one of them? -He asks, making me laugh nervously.

-Yeah. -I respond shyly and feel his thumb caressing my knee.

-Well, do you trust me?

Matt's question makes my heart beat even faster, my eyes meeting his one more time, his pupils were dilated and the sight makes my stomach swirl. I just nod, not able to talk due to how nervous I am, and he moves a strand of my hair behind my ear.

-Let me help you. -His voice is low and determined.

My mouth opened and closed a few times, I was confused and nervous, the anxiety still in my body making it difficult to respond. He notices my struggle and slides his hand forward, stopping on my thigh.

-I don't want you to be scared of anything. I want to show you how good it can feel.

Matt leans closer, keeping his tone soft, my body still shaking slightly and the feeling of his hand caressing my thigh makes me feel goosebumps. It was all so different, but he was talking so softly like it meant nothing, like it was so easy for him. And it probably is.

-Can I? -He asked, when I didn't respond.

Even though I was about to have a heart attack, I nodded. It's not like I don't want to ever feel or do anything sexual, I'm just scared of doing it, but on the other side Matt has been my best friend and the person I trust the most, and if he's offering to help it's because he thinks I can do it and if he thinks it's going to be alright then I trust him.

He smiles at me, pressing a quick kiss on my cheek.

-Lay down, sweetheart, I'll start slow and you can tell me to stop whenever you want if you don't feel comfortable, okay?

He gives me a look that immediately makes me trust him. I nod again and lay on my back, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes as if not seeing it would make it easier.

He shifts in the bed, moving his hand up and down my inner thigh, leaning to press a few kisses on it.

-Do you mind if I take off your shorts? -He asks, and I open my eyes.

I think about it, not knowing how to feel.

-I don't like my body... -I whisper, a bit shy.

-It's alright, we don't have to, but I like your body, I think it looks great. -He kisses my skin again, the way he is so gentle and sweet makes me blush.

-Okay. -I say, permitting him.

He unbuttons my denim shorts and slips them off my legs, throwing them on the floor. I feel the cool breeze hitting my skin and close my eyes again, involuntarily digging my nails into the sheets.

-Try to relax for me, okay? It's alright, you're beautiful and you're doing great.

He parts my legs open, pressing kisses all over my covered part, my body squirming to feel something different down there for the first time.

He keeps trying to calm me down with his soft touches and kisses, taking his time to explore the never-explored area. I was still nervous, but the way he was treating me was helping me to feel more at ease. I feel his thumb getting in contact with my covered clit, rubbing slow precise circles on it, making me gasp.

-You okay?

-Mhm.

I couldn't even talk, I mean, what the hell could I even say when my best friend was touching me like that? It looks so wrong, it should be so wrong, I shouldn't have considered it, but it was also... interesting.

-Doing so good for me, I'll do something different, alright? Tell me if you want me to stop.

Just like that, he crawls on top of me, holding himself up by his forearm and using his free hand to slide under my panties and rub my clit directly. I open my eyes to meet his, my cheeks red and lips parted as I gasp with the new sensation. My eyebrows furrow when I feel his middle finger coating my wetness and moving a bit faster.

-How does that feel? -He asks, looking down at his work.

-Good. -My voice barely leaves my throat, and he giggles softly at the sigh of my struggle to communicate.

-Can I keep going then? -He looks at me again, a tiny smirk growing on his lips.

With one more nod of agreement, he circulates my entrance, teasing it and leaning down to press open-mouth kisses to my neck. I let out a low whine, my mind almost exploding with my thoughts, my body growing hot, my heart beating fast. It was almost too much when he shoved his middle finger into me, my hands gripping his shoulders.

-Matt... -I whisper shakily, burying my face on his shoulder.

-You got it, sweetheart, you're good.

I don't know why his words calm me down, but they do, and I try to relax as he moves his finger slowly.

He lifts his head to look at me, fastening his pace and smirking down at me when he notices I'm biting my lips with my eyebrows frowning.

-You look so pretty, I promise you. -He kisses my forehead, drifting his gaze to his hand under my panties.

He suddenly stops, taking his fingers out of me. I was about to ask why, when he curved his fingers in my panties and slid them down, discarding them and positioning himself in between my legs, his lips so close to my area that I could feel his hot breath.

I prop myself on my elbows to look down at him, his hands grabbing my thighs. He preps kisses all over my legs and stomach before getting where he wants to, his tongue brushing against my folds.

I moan breathly, one hand gripping his arm closest to me. He smirks, using two fingers to separate my folds and diving into my wetness, drawing circles and figures on my clit.

My legs instinctually try to shut close, but he keeps them open, devouring me. The feeling was unlike anything I ever experienced, my body moving on its own and the sensations making me wonder why I was scared in the first place. Of course, doing things for the first time is always a scary thing, but that was... good. Good and different.

-You like that, sweetheart? -He looks up at me, not even trying to hide how much he was enjoying it. -Like being eaten out?

-Shut up, please. -I whisper, too embarrassed to deal with the dirty talk now, I still wasn't used to it.

He chuckles, going back to work and using his tongue magically. How can he even do that? He's moving his tongue so perfectly, my hips rolling against him, it's like he knew my body already, like he knew exactly what to do.

It was hard to keep my sounds to myself, the nervousness still present, not allowing me to let go and just fully commit to the activity, I didn't want my best friend to hear me, I didn't want to hear me myself, how embarrassing is that? To moan, to audibly show that you like something like this. I never heard myself moaning, I have no idea what I sound like, and I'm not sure if I want my best friend to hear it.

But, of course, it was inevitable, my surprised moan left my lips as soon as I felt him add his middle finger back, giving me two experiences at once.

-M-Matt.. -I stutter, my hand on his arm tightening its grip.

He doesn't say anything, just keeps eating me out and fingering me. I tried my best to focus on something else, but it was impossible.

Matt lifts his head to breathe, his mouth glistening with my wetness.

-Tell me if it's too much. -He says, adding another finger.

His movements are slow again, trying to make me get used to it.

-No, it's just... a bit uncomfortable. -I manage to speak.

He nods, taking it as a green light to keep going, his tongue circling my clit once more to make me wetter and his fingers slide easier.

When it finally feels better, he makes scissors movements to stretch me, being careful not to hurt me. By now I can't hide all my sounds, a few of them escaping my lips now and then. Matt trails a path of kisses up to my neck, fingering me faster and deeper now, a shaky moan leaving when he nibbles my sensitive skin.

He stops when I clench around his fingers, standing and sliding his shirt over his head. It makes me a bit angry that he stopped just when it was getting better, but when he also slips his pants down my eyes widen. The only thought in my mind was "Oh, we're doing it", my eyes dropping to the bulge on his boxers. He was obviously hard, and it was so weird to think he was hard because of me.

I keep watching him intently, his last piece of clothing on the floor. Oh, God, have mercy on me, this guy's huge. Okay, I never actually saw anyone else's... thing. But that was definitely big. So big.

He giggles a bit, hovering over me once more, my nervousness increasing.

-Can I take this off? -He asks, pointing at my shirt.

I just raise my arms, indicating that my answer's yes, and in no time we were both naked. I'm naked in front of my best friend. My best friend's naked in front of me. Naked.

His hand reaches a condom on his nightstand and he looks down at me while wrapping it up.

-Don't hesitate to ask me to stop if you don't feel comfortable or if you don't feel like you're ready. I don't want to pressure you, we can stop if you want.

I lick my lips, taking a deep breath and toying with the loose strap of his silk sheet.

-It's okay, I don't want to stop. -I finally give him a proper answer.

He nods with a smile, stroking his dick a few times before coating my wetness with the plastic material. It was weird, and I wasn't sure how to feel yet besides nervous and anxious.

-You need to relax, alright? It won't hurt if you relax. -He says, and naturally, it only makes me more nervous.

He notices it by my look and gently caresses my cheek, leaning to press a sweet kiss on my lips. Matt's lips move slowly against mine, and I wrap my hands around his neck by instinct. He lets me guide it in my pace and when he finally feels that I'm getting calmer he starts to slide in.

With only his tip in, I whine at the sudden burning feeling. He goes slowly, trying to keep it as comfortable as he could, but it wasn't the worst thing ever.

-Are you okay? Does it hurt?

His tone is full of concern and I appreciate the way he cares so much.

-Yeah, a little bit, but it's fine, keep going.

I did my best to keep breathing even though the feeling was breathtaking. The pain was there, my walls stretching to adjust to his size making me feel just like I was on fire. It burns, and it's uncomfortable, a few tears form in the corners of my eyes, but when he's finally all in I can breathe properly.

He stays quiet for a whole minute, giving me my time, and when I give him the sign he starts moving slowly. Super slow. It was probably hurting him too to go at this pace by the look on his face.

-You can move faster. -I warn him, with a small smile.

He does exactly what I said and leans to kiss me again. This time it was sloppy and didn't feel so gentle, he was letting his desire take over and I wasn't mad about it. I kiss him with equal vigor, feeling a bit more confident now that the worst has passed and a lot more comfortable after getting used to him.

-Fuck, I'm sorry, not gonna last long. -He says.

His voice was different, a groan following his words and it made me feel less anxious. It was nice to know he was feeling good.

-That's okay, I don't mind.

He kisses me again and moves one of his hands to rub my clit, increasing the feelings. I can't help but moan against his lips and he moves his fingers faster, wanting to elicit more sounds from me. I feel the same sensation I felt earlier, that he interrupted me from enjoying, and he notices it by the way I'm clenching around him.

-I want you to cum for me, sweetheart.

His words took me by surprise, not because he was being so different from the version I got to know, but because somehow it made my body react just enough to do exactly what he told me to. I moan a bit louder, burying my face on his neck and squirming under him. My legs start to shake and I feel myself tensing up before relaxing completely.

He follows right after, filling his condom with his seed and groaning in my ear.

I feel like all my energy has been drained. My head was a bit dizzy and my body was tired. He lays next to me, both of us panting heavily for a few minutes.

-Are you good? Did I hurt you? -He asks, turning sideways to face me, cupping one of my cheeks with his hand.

-I'm fine. -I giggle out of the air, turning my head to look at him.

He smiles and kisses my forehead.

-I'll clean you up.

He got a towel from his wardrobe and cleaned me up, then helped me get dressed and sit down on his chair as he changed the sheets. He puts on some clothes too and walks to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water.

-You need to pee now, it's important, go do it and I'll wait for you here.

I nod, knowing he's right, and do my thing. I look at myself in the mirror, smiling shyly at how much I look like a mess. I try to fix my hair a bit and splash some water on my face, walking slowly to the room and collapsing on the bed.

-Wanna take a nap? -He asks, hugging me from behind.

-Yes, please.

He chuckles and covers me with a blanket, kissing my shoulder and spooning me.

-Oh, and Matt, can we maybe, uh, talk about it?

I bite my lips nervously, looking down at his hand.

-Of course. -He intertwines our fingers, making my heart warm up.

-Are we going to do this again sometime or it was just that? I don't want to be weird, I'm just curious.

-Do you want to do this again?

-Maybe.

He giggles, pulling me closer to his body.

-So you can text me whenever you need help and I'll be there. Now take some rest, sweetheart.

I nod, taking a deep breath and feeling his lips pressing a gentle kiss on my cheek. I fall asleep quickly after that.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

@riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @anabanana28 @flower-sturns @sturncakez @sssoniaswiftt @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @sturnsxbitvh @nessii-sturniolo @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @slxtformatt @lovingregulusblack @starnoirr @katie-tibo @mattsfavbigtitties @sturnioloblues

[petew21-blog]

Let's run some tests

"Won't let her get away this time" I said to my new reflection

My girlfriend of two years decided to split up right before I was ready to propose to her. All that cause she was working as a veterinary nurse with this guy, Dr. Omar. She said she didn't cheat, but she said she fell in love like never before. I couldn't let her get away. She was the best woman I ever met. I had to do everything to get her back

Maybe it was luck, maybe a trickster god, but I do owe him. I woke up as Omar the next day that Alisha moved out. I was shocked, everyone would be.

He was not a bad looking guy. But in my previous body I was a bit... how do I say this. Well, maybe slighty against some minorities. So even thought it was meant for me as a blessing, I was having a hard time at first, waking up with a different skin tone. So what a guy from Nebraska like me might not have a great mind set

That changed when I discovered I could be grateful for the body I was now in. Slight hairs over the chest, veins popping out everywhere. Damn, chicks are gonna dig this. Especially Alisha. If my balding head and belly fat was the thing that made her not love me, than so be it. I am improved now.

As I proceeded in my examination, revealing a very nice surprise in the boxers. A message from my ex-girlfriend popped on the screen. "Hey, wanna meet later. I am at the beach now, but I am up for dinner or sth."

"Hey, sure. The beach sounds better tho" I sent to her. She rewarded me with a photo in her swimming suit, revealing the beautiful body I already knew

I took a photo of myself in a vest with a sthetoscope. Even if she won't like it I may keep the photo for myslef. The chicks love animals and they love doctor. Man, being an animal doctor must be like a lottery for them

Another message popped up on the screen. It was my old body. He wanted to meet up and talk about what happened. Great. Right on time

I met him at the edge of the town. He was nervously stepping around the car. He then approached me, being scared what might happen to him in my body. I stayed confident. He can't hurt me now. I don't have to do anything. I threatened him, that if he was gonna say anything to anyone, I will find. Not that anyone would believe him. I was almost ready to leave, but then he stopped me

"If you won't fix this, I will reveal everything I did in my body that will ruin your career and drive Alisha away from you"

Fuck. Maybe he does have advantage after all. Or maybe not

"Ok, stay here, I'll go get my phone and we can discuss how to revert this. Ok?" he agreed with me and stayed at his car.

What he didn't expect was that I prepared a dart gun with anesthaethic and shot the dart at him. He screamed in pain, cursed at me, while I just laughed. He stumbled and fell on the ground, still trying to get up

I got over him, enjoying how he was trying to fight the effects.

"Sorry, for that. I might have given you a higher dose. I gotta get used to being a doctor now haha. But before I do anything else to you know this. NO ONE! IS GONNA GET BETWEEN ME AND ALISHA! SHE IS MINE!!!"

The fear in his eyes remained even as his body's heart failed. Atleast he won't bother us anymore. Now, gotta fix everything before my date tonight with Alisha. I am lucky that I already know her and know what to say in advance. I am so excited!

Story submitted in inbox: Would you do a story with an man swapping bodies with the hunky doctor currently dating his ex girlfriend?

[star1ight0]

Tenya Iida x Reader "Hi".. "High."

I have unhealthy coping mechanisms and crave comfort. So here we are. Yet again. As always requests are open and be mindful and respectful when making them

TW: CBD, insomnia, prescription meds

Help is always available call 988 if you are in an immediate crisis. You are not alone and there are people who care.

Your quirk allows you to analyze any given situation finding the most likely outcome along with alternatives of how it could play out, it gets harder to control the longer it's used, longer usage makes it inaccurate. Also make you glow, like a colored aura off of you.

Tenya being both your class rep and your boyfriend was a strange combination at times. He was never one to let you off the hook just because you were his partner but every so often so long as it wasn't that big of a deal he'd left a few things slide so long as it didn't affect you school work. His kindness had its limits and the line became ever so more clear when you began sleeping through classes and skipping over training sessions. He expressed his worries which you quickly brushed off.

Walking over your lock box you grabbed your medicine and weed off your desk and putting your phone on DND and into your pocket, you made your way to the rooftop of the dorms. You could feel the overwhelmingness of the thoughts you pushed away, pull their way to the front of your mind. You could feel your body glow and your head spin.

Placing a pill in your mouth swallowing it followed by an inhale of your pen. You felt the glow lighten and your chest fell into a more steady rhythm. You stayed outside for a few hours a mix of breathing exercises and weed along with long with star gazing. Just as almost all of the worry left the glow of your quirk fading the door opened. You shot up looking behind you exhaling and couching, it was Tenya.

"What are you doing." He said walking towards you trying to take your lifeline away. "Back off " you spat pulling your arm away. You felt your mind race and breathing quicken. You placed the pen between your lips inhaling, before feeling a hand over your mouth. "Tenya please stop" you said, your voice small. You felt your quirk take hold making your head pound with thoughts. "Talk to me love, what's going on? I- i know I might not be the ideal person but I'm still your boyfriend"

He placed himself behind you on the rooftop pulling you onto him. "Please love, talk to me" you felt all the worry in his voice and it only made your mind race more. You felt your breathing become erratic and your chest felt heavy. "Breathe, in.. hold.. out" he must have spent 20 minutes guiding your breathing before you felt your eyes got heavy and the world around you darkened. "Don't let go"

When you woke up you were in your dorm Tenya next to you still asleep. The memories of the previous night came back and you felt your cheeks get warm. You snuggled your way into his arms putting your face in his chest as he slowly woke up wrapping his arms around you. "talk to me, please"

And for some reason that was your breaking point. It sent into a sobbing mess confiding in him about everything, and how the only thing that seemed to help calm your mind wasn't just your medicine anymore. He sat and listened the whole time keeping his gaze on you even as yours fell, trying to avoid his eyes. Still a sobbing shaking mess your body started to glow and your chest tightened once more. This time Tenya cupped your face in his hands kissing your forehead. After a few minutes he managed to calm you down the glow of your quirk slowly fading. "Talk to me when things get like this, please. You're never a bother to me my love" he said his voice was soft and full of care and love. He convinced you to give up what little weed you had left under the condition you went to your doctor for a different prescription.

This was short I'm lazy and overwhelmed so sorry

[monnn]

Am I the greatest bastard that you know?

staring: idol! jeonghan x non-idol!, gn! s/o

wc: 1.3k-ish

genre: ANGST. big angry feelings of reader, kinda fluff towards the end?

a/n: hi, ur fav angst lover is back! things have not been great lately and this fic might just be a vent of mine. big feelings and anger is very valid but so is taking a break. hope you realise that and take a break from life to just exist! to whoever's reading this, i love u, let things take time, take time for yourself, stay hydrated and BE ANGRY!!!

divider by @saradika-graphics !!!

song rec for this fic is The Greatest Bastard by Damien Rice!

knowing how stressful going on a hiatus can be, you successfully lure jeonghan into a staycation, away from the city. though han had to be present for rehab, you had checked with the doctor and he was okay with han being away for a weekend. doing nothing was the plan since jeonghan was actively burning out from working hard to the extent that he's injured, so he was looking forward to spend time with his loved one for a while. what neither of you knew was the fight that would gonna pop up at reaching the room. hannie had drove all the way to the hotel since you didn't have a license and all you had done after reaching there was ask what he wanted to eat since y'all had skipped the rest stops.

~ 30 mins before

"hey love, what do you feel like eating? i could order it for us" you ask a very eepy han.

"just anything, i'm okay with anything" he replies and you can sense the exhaustion in his voice. to make sure you don't get him more grumpy, you ask again to confirm if he's sure about his decision.

"jesus y/n! can you cut me some slack? just stop fucking bothering me and order whatever the fuck you want!" he yells, shaking you to the core.

here's the thing - there necessarily hasn't been any major disagreements or "fights" in your relationship, so the intensity of his feelings get to you. but he should've known better than to snap because your rage knows no bounds and hannie does know about this.

"well, fuck you with that behaviour of yours, i'm not gonna be ordering any food!"

"good! because i don't fucking need it anymore either!" he screams, walking away from the room. you had put great effort in picking a room which is right by a stream, surrounded by mountains and a temple on one of the mountains.

trying not to mind the rage and disappointment with han, you chug a glass of water before doing anything. but you weren't gonna let han off the hook because he was having a hard time. the value you hold for yourself is much more important and you've tried so hard to just have that value in your life for so long, hence you are not going to let the love of your life doubt on it. finishing another glass of water, you leave the room in search of hannie with some snacks and a drink.

you are yet find han with the passing time. he wasn't by the stream, hadn't left the premises according to the owner and definitely hadn't hiked up a mountain(cause bro was literally eepy). but the one place you hadn't scraped was the temple, so you hydrate and go on to check if he's there.

in fact, he is there. his silhouette seems regretful. melancholic even. hunched over and zoning out by overthinking. you stomp your way towards the temple, letting him know of your arrival as he fixes his posture and keeps his gaze down. leaving your shoes behind, you enter the temple and kneel infront of han to provide well-needed snacks and water. he whispers a small 'thank you' and you move aside to sit away from him. not that you wanted to, rather wanting to just talk without any physical contact. you see him chug the water and eat his snacks, making a part of you feel relieved. after finishing his nibbles, han thinks he's ready to talk cause he knows it's better to do this right now than to dwell and let it become bigger.

"y/n, i'm sorry. i am not gonna reason myself for my actions towards you but i do wanna let you know i'm really tired. probably beyond exhaustion. i love you but that was really wrong of me to behave that way when you were just trying to make me feel better." he begins.

"okay, i accept your apology. but i'm not sorry because i haven't done anything wrong. and i'm gonna have to get this off my chest cause if i don't say it now, it's just gonna grow and rot in me." you say, stretching out your hand for him to hold. hannie slips his palm in yours and there's a little squeeze from both of you before letting go.

"okay, i'm gonna listen what you have to say and i'm sure i'll have things to say after, but i'm gonna listen to you first." he says, reassuring you.

"thank you. i hope you know that i was just trying to be of help and not a bother. you snapping at me was unnecessary, which you know by now and it scared me han. for a moment, you were an angry stranger to me and it made me so angry too. why? because i don't deserve to be treated like this han, you know how hard life has been and still is for me." you pause, taking a deep breath as you feel tears welling up your eyes. but one look at hannie and you know he's making space for your anger, willing for you to continue.

shit, you really do love him.

"i understand how mentally and physically exhausting things have been for the past week or so. i understand so much han, i really do. but that does not give you any leverage to be rude or angry at me. regardless of the terrible things i deal with in my life, i'm really trying to be positive towards our relationship and this unconsciously might've broken a part of me. maybe i'm being dramatic but my feelings are big and valid. i love you but we'll need to work on this at our own pace, yeah? what do you think?" you finish, catching a breath that you didn't realise was held.

jeonghan takes a deep breath, before he begins. taking one look at you, he fidgets with his phone and tries to talk cause he has to start somewhere.

"firstly, i am really sorry love. i wanna let you know that i regret my actions and shouldn't have behaved that way towards you. it's just been really hard for me to go into a break from being so packed with schedules. i don't think i've rested at all since i started working and it's just a lot. it's a lot because i now am realising the importance of rest and that solely is beyond overwhelming. but now that i'm here, i want to make the best of it and spend as much time as i can with the people i love. again, i can't think of anything other than apologising because you don't deserve that. i have no right to be treating you that way when you've put your complete trust and love in me. i'm so sorry again love, i want to work on this. i'm not sure how but i wanna work on us, with you. i love you." he finishes, letting out a loud sob. you hold yourself back from going and holding him cause he needs this more than anything else.

instead you move next to him, taking one of his hands in yours. hannie turns to look at you and lays his head on your shoulder, not caring about drenching your shirt. you gently caress his hand as he calms down and give him some water to hydrate. disconnecting from your hand, he drinks the water and wipes his face but intertwines your arm in both of his the moment he's done. there's a moment of stillness felt, as he leans onto your shoulder, nuzzling further into your neck. you haven't felt this feeling ever and just being present makes you realise that there is always space to be wrong and learn in love. not sure if it's the same with everyone else, but you know for sure it is with jeonghan.

[fortunekookie07]

Alright, I am redeeming myself with this one! All the sappy mushy stuff coming your way!

Confessions in the Rain

Zayne had to admit to himself that he was tired. He couldn't even remember how you had gotten to this point in the first place. It was like the universe had set you to forever misinterpret him. Yet there you stood, face red in anger and eyes watery from un-shed tears.

"Why don't you just admit you hate me already, Zayne? I don't understand how you could even say that to me. I'm doing the best I can." Ahh there it was, a single tear had escaped your control and was rolling down your cheek.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. "Don't bother, I know when I'm not wanted. You've made that painfully clear. I'll look for another Doctor!" You're almost shouting by the end of your words as you spin around and run from his office.

You run right past the nurse's station, ignoring them all staring at you. They'd never seen you anything but cheerful in the years you'd been coming. One of them even stood up hand reached out, but you're already gone.

The receptionist tries to stop you as well, but you don't hear her warning that it is pouring outside. You don't care. You have stopped paying attention to your surroundings. Eyes too blurry to see clearly anymore. Whether from rain or crying you don't know.

As you're about to step into the parkinglot you miss the edge of the sidewalk and go sprawling to the ground. Scraping your palms in the process. You land with a grunt. Your palms are bleeding now, but still you don't care. You sit up on your knees crying harder.

You're still sitting there crying when splashing footsteps come in your direction, and your name is called. "Come on, get up off the ground. It's pouring out here. You could catch a cold or pneumonia." Zayne has come after you, of course he did. He had a reputation to maintain after all. "No!" You yell back at him, swatting his hands when he tries to help you stand.

"If I'm sooo much trouble, then don't bother anymore. I'm not your responsibility. Just go away!" You swat his hands again. "You silly girl," Zayne says. softly grasping your arms and forcing you to stand. He holds you to him. Not minding your squirming and attempts to push him away. His voice rumbles in your ear as he speaks again. "Why do you always misunderstand me? You've been like that since we were kids." You freeze at his words, tears still sliding down your cheeks and washed away by the rain.

"Wh-what?" Your voice is shaky from crying. "I have never cared that you cause me trouble, trouble me more. Turn my entire life upside down. I don't care, as long as it's you. Let me take care of you, I've always wanted to." He pauses for a breath. Zayne has never said so many heartfelt words to you before.

"I just wish that you would not take what I say the wrong way. I decided to become a cardiac surgeon for you. I wanted to find a cure for your heart condition. You are the drive behind my every action. Don't you know that yet?" You look up into his hazel eyes, burning with the intensity of his emotions.

"I'm always worried about you, you're job is so dangerous, but you disregard my worry and dive headlong into danger every day. I know I can't stop you or hold you back. Just don't push me away again." He's pleading now. Zayne has never, ever done that for anyone. You try to squash the feeling in your heart again. You have always suppressed your feelings, certain he would never return them.

"Why, why would you go so far for me? Is it because we're childhood friends?" Zayne closes his eyes and drops his head a long sigh coming from him.

"You're so silly, why are you so silly. Fine, I'll spell it out for you then." He takes a breath, "because I love you." He looks into your eyes with finality. There is no way you could possibly misunderstand that.

Tears well up to your eyes again. "Y-you do??" Zayne gently grabs bot side of your face. He rubs circles on your cheeks with his thumbs as he stares into your eyes. "I've always loves you, ever since we were children." He says quietly. You grab his tie and stand on your toes pulling him down to your level before you can kiss him.

Zayne is surprised, his eyes going wide before he returns the kiss. After a minute you pull back and smile. "I love you too."

You're both completely drenched by the rain and the receptionist was standing in the entrance with a scolding look and towels. When you finally start back towards the hospital she's fussing about how wet you both are and the water you're tracking across the floor.

She wastes no time throwing towels over both you and Zayne and ushering you into bathrooms to have a warm shower and put on dry clothes. Despite all this, you can't get the silly grin off your face. Your heart is elated, and you feel like you're soaring high above the storm clouds. You hope that you never come back down from this feeling.

[y13evie]

Hi so I saw that you are open to write for house md and I'd like to ask for a chase fic. Like reader is house's kid and either works at the hospital too or gets admitted there but also knows chase and is in a relationship with him. Plot can be fluffy, smutty and/ or angsty I don't really care but I'd like to know how house would react if he sees them interact etc.

Idk if you see this or like the idea but I wish you the best and I really like your fics

hiiiiii anon!! i love this idea sm and i LOVE ROBERT CHASE WITH MY WHOLE HEARTT. dad house is so sweet and cutesy. i tried my best for u

tags: robert chase x houses kid! reader, one use of y/n, house is stubborn but loves u, just fluff

this is embarrassing. never in your twenty-five years of life would you imagine yourself in the hospital that both your father and boyfriend work at. yet here you are, with a 4 cm laceration on your right hand. the triage nurse had just sent you off and notified you that a doctor will be with you shortly. from your room window you could see dr foreman patting a familiar face on the back, probably saying something along the lines of “this case is yours bud”.

as soon as chase read the report he hurriedly rushed into your room. you shot him a sheepish grin and lifted up your hand to reveal the gash.

“my god, y/n”, he sat down next to you and took your hand gently into his gloved one and inspected the wound. he looked up at you, as if asking for an explanation.

“maybe i shouldn’t garden alone. i picked up this clay pot. the way it was sitting had been bothering me for a couple days now. i’m guess i’m not as strong as i thought i was because i dropped it and as it shattered, it cut me up pretty good.”

chase sighed at your stubbornness, something that had drawn him into you since early in your relationship. he took one of his gloves off and gently stroked your hair. he rambled on about how you should really be more careful and call him if you needed anything too laboring done. you weren’t listening. you were staring into those blue eyes. you weren’t into all that cheesy romance stuff but god, those eyes are stunning. your moment was quickly put to an end when harsh tapping could be heard from outside your window. you knew that sound from anywhere.

“you decided to be the one to doctor on MY kid”

house, or dad as you call him, hastily shuffles into your room and gives you both a judgemental look. robert rolls his eyes,

“foreman gave me the case first, i'm just doin’ my job”.

house hobbles over to check your vitals even though it’s a minor issue compared to what they deal with on a daily basis. you know your dad loves you and cares but he’s not the best at verbally expressing it. you knew he would probably just sit there and observe, so you turn back around to your extremely, worried boyfriend.

“soooo” you drag out the ‘oh’ sound, to show him you’re not worried. “whatcha doin after work handsome?”. chase runs a hand through his blonde hair and lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“i was planning to go on a cute and sweet date with you, but instead i’m gonna be dr. chase for another 12 hours”.

he sounded tired but you knew he was more than happy to care for his darling. just as you two were planning out your evening, your father and robert’s pagers began harmonizing. chase gives a quick but passionate kids to your temple. house makes his gag be known, sticking a finger in his mouth for dramatic effect.

your dad lingers in the room for a moment, giving your shoulder a squeeze. it’s still gonna take time for him to adjust to the fact his child is dating his co-worker. but you’re not his little baby anymore and he knows it.

when he heads out his parting words are,

“i’ll have someone stitch you up kid, stay put”.

you lean back in the bed and continue to add pressure to your wounded hand. a few minutes pass and your sweet boyfriend stops by again. and takes a seat at the stool beside your bed. he has the tools to stitch up your hand. to distract you from the pain, chase sparks a conversation.

“your old man..” he chews the inside of his cheek. you know exactly what he’s gonna ask. “does he like me? and not as a co-worker. does he think i’m a good fit for his kid?”. your heart sank at the thought of robert thinking he’s not enough. truth is, your dad did like him. though he would never admit it, the fact robert makes you happy, makes your dad happy. he’s real bad at showing it, but you know it’s true.

“he’s a grump, chase. he likes you. he might never admit it. but the fact he hasn’t beaten you to death with that cane of his really says something.”. you can tell your reassurance helped. you loved robert, and he loved you too. before you knew it the stitches were finished. he pulled out a sling from a cabinet so you won’t irritate the stitches too much.

“hey, i’ll get your discharge papers. we’ll have you out of here soon”.

chase pressed a kiss to your lips this time, and he stayed there for a minute. hand on your jaw to keep you steady. you moved your lips in unison, running your free hand through his hair. a sharp pain stabbed your hand and caused you to pulled away and gasp. he reminded you to take some pain medication once home.

before he headed out the door, robert whips around and sternly demands,

“i don’t ever wanna see you in here again.”