#not to mention the prescription food she’s on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rainrot4me · 2 months

Text

Return The Favor

Summary: Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not so subtle love note hidden away.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Mentions of death, explicit description of a dismembered body, decomposition, death, gore, obsession, vomit, throwing up, blood (non-sexual), blood (sexual), vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, vaginal, choking, gagging, somnophilia, rough, Toby literally goes insane about you, virginity kink, first time, desperation

Words: 9.4k

A/N: This shit long asl I'm so sorry...

It’s said that when there’s a dead body nearby, your body can sense it before your brain can.

It’s almost like instinct, a survival nature programmed into your brain. It’ll start with goosebumps and chills running all over your body as if you were being watched, this uncomfortable sensation that you just can’t rationalize. Then the anxiety sets in, body aching and sweating for no apparent reason but it just knows there’s something wrong.

Finally, when you’ve finally choked it up to just being your imagination, that’s when you’ll smell it. Throat instantly closing and nostrils flaring at the putrid stench of rot and gore. It’s incomparable, no amount of food poisoning or disease compares to the sickness you feel in your stomach at the smell of a human body decomposing. Every instinct in your body pleading and begging you to get out of there, run as far away until you can’t breathe anymore.

You would know. And it seemed like the boy huddled in front of you did too.

There was no real reason for you to even be in this house in the first place, but your all-too-good heart guilted you into it. You had just come home from work, mind tired and body sleepy as you unlocked your front door, tossing your bag onto the kitchen table inside. It was well past midnight, the diner you worked at closing way later than normal, but at least you made some good tips.

Sliding into your bedroom, you changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your hair back before stepping into your kitchen. You gripped the tiny journal lying on the counter, cracking the worn pages open to where you left off, scribbling your thoughts onto the paper. It was your nightly routine, journaling things you saw or did, a coping mechanism suggested by your therapist. It wasn’t for anything intensive, just minor anxiety and self-image problems, always having negative thoughts about yourself. It helped. Glancing up, you looked through the tiny window above your sink, a clear view of your neighbor’s back porch, Mr. Higgs, an older man who made it very difficult to be friendly. He was a hateful guy, always nitpicking your choice of decorations or specific outfits he didn’t find appropriate. A real sweetheart, obviously.

But compared to his usual eight PM lights out, the living room lamp was still bright, shining directly through his open back porch door. That was odd. As long as you had known this guy, it wasn’t like him to be up this late, let alone be outside. Every instinct told you to just clean up and go to bed, his angry ass probably scooting off a raccoon or something. But you just couldn’t pass up that nagging feeling, your kindheartedness overpowering you. So, sighing, you tossed a hoodie on and slid out your back door, stepping down the porch steps into the cool grass.

You flinched as a flash of brown passed your vision, small and thin against the dark grass. Cooing, you kneeled down, holding your fingers out as Mr. Higg’s old cat, Addy, sniffed the air around you, pressing against your bare legs as she purred. The man was way too protective of his cat. Something was definitely wrong.

Standing again, Addy pranced away, meowing loudly behind you as your bare feet became wet against the midnight dew, grass sticking to your ankles as you walked, arms hugging yourself against the cold. This would probably just end with you getting told to mind your business and stomping back to bed upset, but it was the thought that counted. Gripping onto the porch rail, you stepped up his creaky wooden porch, knocking against the wooden frame of the open door.

“Mr. Higgs? Everything alright?” You called into the room, refusing to go in. There was no response, you knocked again after a couple of seconds. Still nothing. You gulped, rubbing your arms against your sides, nerves wracking you. “Okay. I’m coming in. Don’t get mad 'cause you didn’t answer me.” You called again, pressing past the door and wiping your wet feet on the welcome mat.

The house was quiet, the only light being the lamp sat on a coffee table adjacent to the old couch. All the furniture had an older look like something out of the eighties, it made you cringe. “Mr. Higgs, are you home?” You shouted down the dark hallway, all the doors shut except for one at the end which you assumed to be his room. Hugging yourself, your legs felt anxious, your mind racing with all the reasons you shouldn’t walk down there. There was no reason for it, this was all just probably some old guy who forgot to shut his door, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Taking a step down the hallway, that’s when it started. Those feelings, like your body can feel shouldn’t be there. The air suddenly grew thick, a nauseating feeling setting in against your chest, pressing down like a conscious weight. But you shook it off, telling yourself it was just you scaring yourself with all of those crime shows, but you should’ve known better.

The door was cracked, moonlight from the open shades pressing against the doorframe, your hand flat against the wood as you pushed the door open. Then came the smell. It was stout, a putrid funk that wafted against the walls, souring the room. The room was dark, pupils blown wide as they fought to see, hand sliding against the wall and searching for a light switch. Your body was tense, senses on high alert against the dark, breathing ragged against the awful stench filling your senses. Your eyes were beginning to water, wondering what in the hell could be stinking this terribly, until you felt the switch, flipping it on.

Your first instinct was to throw up, throat constricting and stomach tightening, but you just couldn’t move. You were petrified by the scene in front of you. Mr. Higgs was there, at least, what you could recognize of him. His head had been cleaved from his body, intensive amounts of blood staining his beige bedsheets. His cheeks were bloated, a gnarly purple color as his veins poked against his forehead, skin wrinkled and soaked in blood as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. They were yellow now, dark veins contrasting against the orbs as puss leaked from every hole on his expressionless face. The rest of his body was scattered, chunks of muscle shredded from his arms and hands like they had been cut off, legs more or less the same. His wide stomach was completely visible, his skin swollen and dark, bloated against the same liquids spilling from his pores. The blood was the worst part. It was just everywhere. Splattered on the sheets, the nightstand, even the walls, specks reaching the roof. You were so lost in your racing thoughts, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you gripped the door tightly, knuckles white on the frame. You could feel the cold sweat drip down your brow, utter fear chilling your body.

You wouldn’t have even noticed the tall boy standing in the corner if he hadn’t flinched, eyes wide and locked on you. He was lanky, easily taller than you and pale. No, not pale, more gray. He had curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes, his freckled cheeks flushed against the bandages across his jaw. A pair of goggles rested amongst his curls, a dark mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore dark wash jeans loose around his hips and a heavier brown hoodie that was stained with dark blood. Oh God. The boy didn’t look much older than you despite his bruise battered skin. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, he was just watching.

His hands were behind his back, shoulders scrunched against the corner of the dark walls as you pressed back off the door frame, breathing ragged. “Who the hell are you?” You grimaced, tone coming across a lot more confident than you felt. The boy flinched, not out of fear, more like a bodily reaction. He refused to answer, eyes scanning around quickly until he pressed off the wall, sliding to the shuttered window and pinching the blinds open, scanning the night without explanation. That’s when you heard loud boots stepping up the porch steps, head spinning quickly down the hallway. “Shit.” You heard him, the boy’s voice panicked and rough, his boots stepping quickly across the hardwood and into your vicinity. Panic strained you, head spinning back quickly before your vision was filled with his arms wrapping around you, palm slapping over your mouth as he pressed you to his chest.

You tried to fight back, mumbled pleas against his hand as you shouldered his arms, your back pressed firmly against him. He was dragging you into the room, your feet dragging as you struggled, clawing his arms away but he never budged, practically unaware of the scratches you were leaving on his hands. “F- Fuckin’ quit-” He growled quietly, pressing open the small closet doors and dragging you both in, quickly shutting the door as you heard the boots grow louder down the hallway. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door, leaving you just enough room to see the gorey scene as you pressed off of him, his muscled arms refusing to let you go.

“Toby?” A scratchy voice called into the room, the figure stepping through the door frame and into your line of sight. At his appearance, you froze completely, your body tense against the boy behind you. His arms gripped tighter, bandaged fingers digging into your cheek as he kept you quiet. He was horrifying.

This man was taller than the one in the closet with you, pasty skin a sharp contrast against his dark messy hair. His eyes were wide, pupils dark against his reddened scleras. He wore a white hoodie, dark jeans covered just the same with Mr. Higg’s blood. But the worst part, the part that made your heart pump in your throat, was his smile. It was etched in, flesh torn upwards into a mocked smile, teeth exposed from the side of his cheek. The area was mangled, seemingly unhealed as blood dried against the cut. He almost made Mr. Higgs seem not that bad.

“Twitch, come on,” He called again, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket as he strolled around the room, kicking Mr. Higg’s severed foot out of the way. “I’m gettin’ tired. This guy had some good beers and I’m tryna get back home and drink ‘em.” He snickered, turning back out of the room and back down the hallway, his loud boots stomping against the old floors. Who you presumed to be Toby didn’t let you go, arms just as tight around you as you gripping his hoodie’s sleeves tight. “Fine then! If you’re gonna play fuckin’ hide and seek then I’m leavin’ your ass here!” He called throughout the house, your body only untensing when you heard the back porch door slam shut, loud boots thunking down the porch and out of earshot.

You both waited a couple of seconds, heart thudding in your ears as arms slowly released you, palm unclasping from your mouth. Panicked, you slammed out of the closet, turning around quickly and facing Toby, back pressed against the nearest wall as you searched for something to defend yourself with. “D- Dumbass.” He grit, pressing out of the cramped closet and facing you, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. The stench of the room pressed harder than ever, making your head dizzy as you pressed out of the room and down the hallway, Toby quick on your heels. “Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want, I’m sure Mr. Higgs didn’t have it. Why in God’s name is he in pieces in his bedroom?” You hissed, gagging as the image replayed in your mind, turning into his kitchen and wracking the cupboards. When you found a small plastic cup, you ran water in through the sink, chugging the stout liquid down as you calmed your breathing. Toby stayed in the doorframe, crossing his arms. You probably shouldn’t have let your guard down, knowing full and well what he had just down to your neighbor, but you figured if he was going to he would have already.

“It’s none of y- your business. I don’t k- kill innocents, so you s- shoulda just stayed home, m- missy.” He growled back, stuttering through the words. You tossed the cup in the sink, the plastic clattering against the metal as you turned to face him, running your hands through your hair. “Hard to when you guys so obviously left his door open. The bastards hounded me for years, you’d think I’d be happy about his death, but not fucking like that.” You hissed, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, bare feet cold against the porcelain tiles. “I mean, Jesus. And I mean, thanks and all for the save back there, but how is killing him and saving me any different? It’s just favoring one innocent over another.” Toby shook his head, sliding past you and tugging a drawer open, shovelling through old receipts until he found the stack he was searching for. He passed it to you, paper crinkling as you skimmed through, old pharmacy receipts for prescription medicine.

“H- Had the old bastard bu- buying our meds. Paid h- him off and everything. Un- Until he started g- giving us coun- counterfeits, sellin’ u- us out. He h- had to pay u- up somehow…” He huffed, shoving his mask down off of his nose and under his chin, his thin lips chapped against the bandages hugging his cheeks. And of course, he was cute.

“So he gets shredded?” You had to breathe through that sentence, throat tight with nausea. Toby nodded, a small smirk crooking at the corner of his lips. You grimaced, pressing off of the counter and through to the living room, the old furniture seeming a lot less homey now. You were going home, filing a police report, and praying to God these fuckers didn’t come back to get you instead.

“U- Uh, might wa- wanna clean up, t- too,” Toby chuckled from behind you. You paused, confused as you looked around, stomach twisting as you looked down. Bloody footprints trekked through the kitchen behind you, a trail leading to your bare feet as you lift your knee, gagging at the sight of Mr. Higg’s blood coating your soles. Toby was laughing, the noise muffled against the ringing in your ears as you hunched over, stomach convulsing as you puked on the hardwood floors, your lunch from work coming back up. Head straining, you panted, wiping your lips. “Oh, s- shit, okay.” Toby hissed, sliding to your side and raising you up, hugging you close to his side. He drug you through the door, stomach still churning as you watched your footprints faintly appear beneath you, purposefully dragging them through the grass to get the blood off. You felt disgusting, giving no fight as Toby brought you to your porch steps, helping you up. He was so bipolar, angry and distasteful for one second, then cautious and endearing the next. It really was like you were dealing with a teenager.

Addy circled your ankles, her dense fur tickling your skin and making you jump, Toby gripping your arms tighter. “Oh, hi kitty.” You cooed, breathing deep as you kneeled down, scooping her up into your arms as Toby helped you up the rest of the steps. Without asking, he slid open your screen door, helping you both inside as Addy purred against your chest, Toby wary as he stared at her. You dropped her on the floor gently, Toby sliding the door shut as you hunched over your sink, cleaning your mouth and grabbing a rag for your feet. Toby still eyed Addy, fidgeting his nails as he followed her. “Ever seen a cat before? She was Mr. Higg’s.” You chuckled, cleaning the soles of your feet off and tossing the rag into the sink, still feeling unclean. Toby nodded, rubbing his arms nervously as he looked back at you, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. Us- Used to have one. T- They kinda sc- scare me now.” Smiling, you scooped Addy up again, petting her soft fur as you brought her close to the boy, his neck twitching nervously.

How could this guy shred a man to pieces, but petting a cat was too frightening for him? You couldn’t understand. Digressing, you gripped his wrist, steadying the twitches as you placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently as Toby flinched, breathing quickly. Addy purred, unbothered by the action as he became more comfortable, fingers playing with her fur before he pulled his hand back, breathing deep.

You were too nice for your own good, too easy at giving the benefit of the doubt. Of course, you would find the redeemable traits in a murderer, heart hurting for this boy who was more or less the same as you. Groaning, you dropped Addy, crossing your arms. “Listen. What you did, it’s… For my own conscience, I can’t let it happen again.” You grit, circling your countertop and sitting on a stool, your journal tucked in front of you as you fidgeted with the pages. “If we can agree, I’ll buy your meds. I have a friend who can write me prescriptions, no questions asked. But I need you to understand, under no circumstances, are you allowed to harm me. I’ll call the cops.” Like the cops could stop these lunatics. But, you needed some type of leverage.

Toby thought quietly, eyes narrowed as he flinched uncomfortably against Addy rubbing on his shins, purring loudly. If you could hold your end, there would be no trouble, but he had to know he could rely on you. “Th- The meds aren’t for m- me. My f- friends, they need ‘em to function, m- mentally… You g- gotta realize this is- is serious.” Even stuttering his voice was stern, arms crossed as he thought, contemplating. You nodded, brushing your hair from your face as you groaned, realizing how desperately you needed to learn to set boundaries. “I can get them. But you have to keep your end, too.” You hissed back, pinching your fingers nervously. Toby smiled, crossing his heart, literally. Rolling your eyes, you nodded, rubbing your face as you groaned. What the fuck were you even doing?

“I’ll have them by the end of the week. Come later at night, cops’ll be swarming for weeks thanks to you.” Toby nodded, sliding over to the counter and gripping your journal, tearing a page out as he wrote the list of prescriptions you would need to get. It was a hefty list, some of that shit intense. “Abou- About that,” He slid his mask up over his nose, sliding the screen door open as he stepped out, chuckling. “Do- Don’t go outside. Gonna ma- make it look like a g- gas leak.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he shut the screen, sliding his hood over his head and peeling down the porch steps. Finally taking a deep breath, you stared at Addy, wondering what in the absolute fuck you were doing. Rest in hell, Mr. Higgs.

He made it look like a gas leak alright. The house was on fire in minutes, the bright orange flames lighting your room as you heard sirens in the distance, your other neighbors gathered outside their houses as you climbed into bed, groaning your displeasure. Cops and firefighters swarmed for days afterwards, investigating the area thoroughly, but never finding any remains of Mr. Higgs, his body buried somewhere far away. They eventually grew restless, the city quickly cleaned up the charred remains of the house and a new plan for construction was set in soon. It went over smoothly, no one even suspecting a thing.

The days passed slowly, nervousness building as the end of the week grew closer, feet shuffling as you stood in line at the pharmacy. You got the doctor’s notes easily, already called in and waiting to be picked up as you were handed a small paper bag, the pharmacist eyeing you closely as you hurried out. Once in your car, you rummaged the sack, eyes wide as you read the dosage instructions on each little pill bottle. You read each bottle carefully, cringing at the names of the contents: Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, and even Aripiprazole. They were all high-end antipsychotics, the list of treatments for schizophrenia and mania, along with treatment-resistant depression. The last bottle caught your eye, a quick Google search told you it was for tourette's. So his twitching wasn’t just nervousness, huh. Shoveling the sack into your bag, you sped home, Toby well on his way as the sun set low.

The first week was easy, Toby in and out without so much as a hello, nodding his thanks as he bolted back into the woods, eyes dark and heavy. It was easy for you, moving along with your life despite the one night of the week. You felt easier, the boy quick about his stops with some chat, but never hanging around for too long, eyes always scanning the tree line nervously.

As weeks passed, he grew more comfortable, you learned that he was quick about stopping due to his friends, their curiosity about you making him nervous about losing his ‘dealer.’ You learned to leave his meds on the counter, sometimes not even present when he would sneak in at the late hours of the night, your job taking precedence over your sleep schedule. But with all of this money being spent weekly on medicine, you had to pick up more time at work, everything being paid for out of pocket not to raise suspicion. You were sleeping more, journaling and your hobbies taking less importance until they were practically nonexistent. It was hard, your serving heart refusing to let you rest, making sure Toby got his medication is the most important thing. You were strained, to say the least.

However, surprisingly, after a couple of weeks, Toby wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He had slid in like he always did, you sat at the counter eating your dinner as you scribbled through the pages of your notebook, summing up the previous days. You were exhausted, Toby making you jump slightly as he shut the screen door, rummaging through the paper sack. “G- Got any more?” He grinned shyly, sliding his mask and goggles off and tossing them onto the counter. You nodded to the fridge, an extra container of leftovers from the diner quickly opened in front of him as he shoveled it into his mouth. “It’s better heated up,” You laughed, shutting your journal as you slid off the stool, gripping the to-go container from him and popping it into the microwave. You both sat there awkwardly, Toby kneeling down to rub Addy’s back as she appeared beneath him, soft purrs echoing. He was still nervous, never petting her for too long before standing back up, the microwave beeping. The food came out steaming, sliding open a drawer and handing him a fork, Toby continued to shovel the food into his mouth. You hissed, holding his arm as the steaming food sizzled inside his mouth, it had to be burning him. “Oh. Y- Yeah, I don’t fe- feel pain. Th’s good, tho- though.” He grinned, slurping up more of the food. He acted like he hadn’t had warm food in forever, stuffing his face and barely giving himself time to chew. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he ate.

The stays became longer after that, his excuse being he was hungry, continuously raiding your fridge until you began to have food ready for him, prepping his meals along with your own. Thirty minutes turned to an hour, to two hours, and then eventually through the night. He would crash on your couch, Addy curled in his lap as the television blared some old movie. That was one of the only times you didn’t see him ticcing, the cat acting as an anchor against his restless body. He looked truly comfortable, using your blankets and pillows to his advantage, beginning to invite himself to stay the night after a while.

You sat at the counter, Toby snoring loudly as he laid face first into the couch pillow, scribbling into your journal. It was the one thing you had time for, having to get up early for work as the soft glow of the kitchen light lit the pages. Toby was practically pushing himself into your life, his lack of manners and curious mannerisms leading him to take initiative. You were grateful for his friendliness, giving great detail of his missions with his friends and explaining that whole situation. Even still, you were wary.

But against your better judgment, your relationship with the killer was becoming less transactional. He brought you things to make for dinner, talked with you through your mutual sleepiness, and even took care of Addy when you were too delusional after work. For lack of a better word, he was becoming a friend, showing up for more than just his medication, even sometimes forgetting the bag and having to chase him down. He was infesting your life, arriving earlier than he should and leaving later than you cared for. The end of the week was becoming optional, the screen of your porch door sliding open nearly every night of the week Toby didn’t have a mission. It was annoying but in a comforting way, like you both were becoming closer naturally despite your differences.

As you heard his snores, you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as you began to write, letting your pencil guide on the page numbly as you wrote your thoughts. It wasn’t directed at Toby on purpose, but the further you got down the page the further your heart sank, hand fisted in your hair as you rested your elbow on the cold marble counter. “Ah, Jesus…” You grit, scribbling the final few words as you lean back, rubbing your head. The words weren’t lies, more of a hard truth you weren’t willing to accept, chalking it up that you were just tired and desperate. The words could have been about Toby, or they could have been about anyone, you didn’t really care. Sighing, you tore the page out, folding it and shoving it into the back of the book, closing the pages quickly. Sleep sounded much easier as you flipped the kitchen light off, turning the volume of the television down as you trudged upstairs to your room, giving one last glance to the snoring boy and his matching cat.

Toby knew his mishaps with you, his moral compass long forgotten the more time he spent inside your home. He told himself it was just easier, food and shelter at his disposal whenever, but he knew better. It was so much more than just picking up medicine for Tim and Brian now, it was a solid relationship, a bond that was forming in his eyes.

It had been almost four months since the unfortunate death of your neighbor, a smile creeping every time he saw the charred flecks of wood buried in the overgrown grass. You had begun to leave the back door unlocked, reasoning that someone breaking and entering would be less of a hassle than him. That was what Toby really hooked onto the most about you, your humor about everything. Despite your hardships and the emotions you had to overcome, you held a caring heart, compassion always lacing every action. He found it admirable, your humor through your busy life. And, likewise, he did feel bad for making you work so much, tired eyes always hurting his heart whenever you were around. But, it wasn’t like he could get a job, so he helped where he could, cleaning and learning to cook for your sake. He needed this medicine, for his friend’s and his own stability, even at your expense.

You were already nestled at your spot on the counter, writing your thoughts in that damn journal. You barely even looked up as he entered, diving for the fridge as he scooped up Addy with one arm, her purs a nice vibration against his shoulder. Popping the container in the microwave, he leaned in over your shoulder, trying to catch a glance at your scribbling before you shoved him off, closing the book quickly. “Ah, ah, mind yours.” You smiled, forking your own food into your mouth. “O- Oh come on, [Y/N], just a pe- peak.” He smiled back, gathering his food as he began to eat, sliding onto his familiar spot on the couch. It was routine now: where you sat, what he watched, what you both talked about. He explained his latest mission with Masky in more detail than you enjoyed, pushing your food away as you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You both laughed throughout the night before you whisked your food into the fridge, calling your goodnights before heading upstairs.

Toby continued to watch the television, brushing Addy’s back with his bandaged fingers as he sat his empty container to the side. His curiosity nudging him, he raised up, tossing his trash before he slid to the counter, you all too confidently leaving your journal there. Slipping back onto the couch, he began to flip through the pages, listening closely for your footsteps as he read your entries, smiling as they dated all the way back to your high school years.

It seemed as though everything you thought spilt onto these lines, emotions erratic between every page as he realized just how much of a people pleaser you really were. All through your recent years, it was nothing but service, acting through the goodness of your soul until it felt sickening, fake almost. He cringed, flipping quickly through but finding nothing juicy, no deep dark secrets that he felt were interesting. Sighing, he closed the journal, standing to set it back onto the counter, until a slip of paper fell from between the pages. Smiling, Toby leaned down, arms twitching as he slid the journal back onto the counter, leaning against the marble as he flipped the paper open, reading carefully.

“Sometimes, when I think about it too hard, I get all emotional about myself. I know I put on a front, like everything I do I’m in charge of and can handle, always putting everyone around me first. But what if I wanted to be put first? I do so much for the sake of others but it never seems to be returned, never compensated for the mental strain. Well, maybe I want to. Maybe I want to be loved like I see others, rough and real. I have no clue how I even would, I can barely handle touching myself before I'm overwhelmed. But I just want someone else to take the reins, show me that I don't have to work my brain so hard and can just numb out. That's not too much to ask, right? Just someone who can love me, not some creep or one night thing, someone who cares. If I never ask for anything again, that would be it. Someone who wants me for me.”

He could have died. The brunette’s cheeks dark as he re-read the crumbled page, excitement coursing through him. In his mind, he wanted to storm upstairs and just rattle you then, showing you how good he could treat you. It was like a bomb had gone off, Toby having to pretend like him having a crush on you wasn’t achingly obvious, convincing himself he just didn’t know how to act around women. But now it was clear, his mind racing with a million wants and needs, body spasming under the excitement.

Convincing himself to leave, he slipped the note into his pocket, body buzzing with excitement as he slid out your door. He would be back, like always. But this time, he would show you what you truly needed, what only he could give you.

Like always, Toby left a note for the medication you needed to pick up, it sometimes changing week to week. Everything looked normal, the usual combination of pills reading off. But as you scanned the bottom, you groaned, shoving the paper into your pocket. Trilafon, Saphris, and… Plan B. As if your desperation for some affection couldn’t have gotten much worse, your heart twisted, a lump growing. Whether it be for some girl he was laying or a girlfriend he already had, you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get the medicine and go. Crawling into your bed sounded like a much more exciting activity than dwelling on the brunette, heart saddened in all the way you knew it shouldn’t.

To make your night even better, Toby didn’t show. It wasn’t unusual, for him sometimes not to show up for days due to extensive missions. But a part of you longed to see him, especially after today, just to help your mind with the whole morning-after pill situation. So now, instead of imagining him surrounded by his friends on a mission, you imagined him towering over a girl. Strong arms holding her, body contorting to fit against hers… You could’ve been sick, shaking your head as you ate quickly and pressed upstairs, barely petting Addy before you slinked into bed, hauling the covers over your head.

It was lonely on nights without his presence in your house. But especially tonight, thoughts racing uncontrollably to the point of tears, thick droplets streaking down your face as your chest hurt, longing for a body, any body, to hold close to yours. Maybe you really were just a transactional thing.

Toby smiled as he trekked through the familiar stretch of woods to your house, heart racing in his chest. He had it all planned out, exactly what he wanted to do, his cock already twitching in his jeans.

He hadn’t shown up tonight on purpose, hanging back at the mansion to take the best shower he could, Ben teasing him about how good he smelled as he was leaving. You had to be well in bed by now, body tired after working all day just for him. He would take care of you, showing just how grateful he was for how much you were giving up just for his friends and him. Pressing past the tree line, he smiled, pulling his hood down as all the lights in your home were out, signaling your retirement.

Pressing up the steps, he slid the screen door open quietly, careful not to alert you as he clicked it shut. Stripping his hoodie, he tossed it onto the couch, Addy purring light against the cushions. It was warm in your house, black t-shirt hugging his arms as he untucked it from his jeans, climbing up the steps, his mask and goggles quick to come off next.

He was too excited for his own good, boots stepping quietly against the old hardwood as he slinked to your door, fidgeting with the knob. A rush of your scent blew into his face, your perfume stout in your small bedroom, eyes searching around in the dark space for your bed. It wasn’t hard with your breathing, quiet snores making him smile as he leaned against your mattress, admiring your unawareness. You looked so peaceful, his bandaged fingers tracing your cheeks and brushing your hair from your face, your skin flinching under his touch. “Hi, baby…” He whispered, the pet name sounding right against his tongue as he referred to you, tugging the sheets down.

Toby always knew how nice of a body you had, you sometimes sauntering around the house with shorts and a t-shirt and making his eyes trail just a little longer than normal. But now, under his cold hands, you were even more gorgeous. You were wearing an oversized shirt, a slight tug at the fabric revealing that you only had panties on underneath, you slightly stirring as his nails brushed your skin. The brunette was excitedly jittering, kicking his boots off as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at your curled body sound asleep. You shifted, rolling onto your back as you breathed deep, stretching your arms before settling back into yourself. Toby could have died, your legs stretching out to rest around him, his cock twitching with interest against your now visible panties. A quiet sigh breathed through your lips.

That was all the invitation he needed. Running his cold hands under your shirt, he felt your warm skin and goosebumps rising as you squirmed under them. Your brows scrunched but Toby pressed further, running his fingers along your waist and up to your tits, palming the mounds gently as he smiled. It was crazy to him just how soft your skin was, not weathered or bruised from missions or nature, perfectly smooth under his axe-calloused hands. Pushing your shirt up to your chest, he gasped at your round tits, the weight so perfect in his hands as he pinched at your nipples, rubbing the nubs gently. Toby was never very sure of anything, always brushing through life at the command of others. But the one thing he was sure about? His love for boobs, especially yours.

Nudging closer between your legs, he rested your knees on his thighs, leaning down to your chest as he popped a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently. The nub was hard against his tongue, slowly circling as he massaged the opposite one in his palm, pinching your nipple gently. That’s when you began to stir, hands sliding against the bed and unconsciously searching for the cause of your sensitivity. Lazy hands pushed against his face, soft groans echoing in the boy’s ears as he popped off your nipple and moved to the next one. Your hands fingered through his hair, tugging lightly until your eyes were beginning to flutter, your mind slowly coming alive. Toby let off your tit, kissing along your chest and licking a stripe between your tits, humming as he watched your eyes slowly blink open, confusion rocking you. He kneaded your tits gently, tugging at your nipples as you realized what was happening, eyes slowly widening as you strained to sit up against him. “Toby? Wha-” Your voice was scratchy, ridden with exhaustion as the brunette kissed up your neck to your cheeks, pushing you back down as he slotted himself flush between your legs. Slowly realizing what was happening, your cheeks flushed dark, hands pressing against his chest as you squirmed, nervously babbling as your body was still half asleep. “Lay b- back, baby… You’re so ti- tired, let me take c- care of you…” Toby sighed, running his hands back down along your skin, relishing in the way your body nervously shook under him.

You physically could not believe what was happening. This had to be a dream, some sick trick your mind was playing as you felt cold fingers hook under your panties, sliding them down. Heavy eyes wide, you grabbed his arms, clenching your thighs together against his waist. “No- No, wait- I don’t even, I mean, I’ve never-” Toby was already shushing you, gripping your wrists together and kissing your palms before pushing them back down to your sides, resuming his tug down your thighs. “I’ve go- got you. Don- Don’t gotta worry about a- a thing…” He smiled, raising your legs up to slide your panties down the rest of the way, hooking them off of your raised ankles before pulling you down closer to him, pushing your shirt over your head. “Read y- your journal, you don- don't gotta act protective, ba- baby. I know this is what y- you want…” If you weren’t already panicking, you definitely were now.

You wanted to hound him for snooping through your journal, mouth opening to tell him off. But as his fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds, you lost all train of thought. He was watching you, eyes excited in the darkness of your room as he swiped his thumb closer again, your thighs flinching shut. “Anyone else e- ever touched here before?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb against your plump lips and tugging them open, getting a nice look at the wetness that was already forming between your folds. Shaking your head, Toby lit up, cock pushing hard against his jeans as he had to adjust his position, using both hands to pull your lips apart, sighing at how pretty your cunt was. Just something about knowing that Toby was claiming his stake on you, imprinting his touch for the first time before anyone else could, made something deep inside of him burn. It wasn’t like the brunette got much play himself, hooking up with a girl here and there, but being your first? That already made this so much better than any other girl could even try.

Sliding his fingers through your wetness, you gasped, hands clutching the pillow behind your head as he groaned, spreading your arousal across your lower abdomen. You whined, thighs begging to clench together as he purposefully slid your juices over your cunt, pressing his thumb down against your swollen clit and jolting your back off the mattress. You had only ever masturbated here and there, your body getting too overwhelmed after one orgasm and forcing you to stop, but would Toby stop? As he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, you doubted his restraint.

“Please be gentle…” You warned, hands planting on the mattress as you sat up, resting on your elbows as you watched Toby bring his digits back down to your cunt. He rolled his eyes playfully, tugging your folds open with his opposite hand as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance, pressing in slowly. “I’ll try…” He laughed, your fingers gripping the sheets tight as you watched his fingers sink in slow, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. His index and middle fingers screwed into your tight walls gently, twisting his wrist to draw a moan from your lips, digits spreading against your gummy walls and making your entrance ache. “Just i- imagine my dick in here…” He cooed, eyes darting between your nervous face and your pretty cunt fluttering around just his fingers, barely even handling them.

Pressing his opposite thumb against your clit, he began to rub in small circles, dragging your hips further and further off of the mattress until you were practically rolling your hips against him. His fingers probed in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, just enough to make you comfortable with the unfamiliar intrusion, but his arms ached to go faster, curl his fingers until you spasmed. “Toby…” You sighed, his hands moving in time with other as he screwed his fingers inside of you, angling them just enough so they pressed against your tight walls. His name sounded like heaven against your aroused tongue, so quiet but so desperate, secretly drawling for more. “Tell me w- what you want, ba- baby…” The pet name made your face hot, your stomach fluttering as you pressed back into the pillows, running your hands down to your thighs and squeezing the flesh. “I want… more…” You sighed through your arousal, cunt clenching desperately around Toby’s cold fingers, sucking them back inside every time he drew them out. The brunette laughed, pushing his feet under him to push his hips up against your ass, your hips raising off the bed as he fingered down into you. You could feel his cock straining behind his jeans below your raised ass, twitching needily with every tug of his fingers and moan that whined from your throat. His size was overwhelming, making your heart pound as Toby began to curl his fingers, making your eyes shut quickly.

His fingers pressed so deep in your cunt, curling against your sensitive walls and making your jaw hang, beginning to press against your walls at a steady rhythm. It was like a new fire had lit under Toby, fingers screwing in at a quicker pace and making your stomach clench, face screwing into an overwhelmed feeling. His fingers pumped in, knuckles sinking in through your wetness and gripped by your gummy walls, curling his fingertips just right as he got deep. It was so intense, so rough, just a mess of slick and your wet cunt sounding through the room with every squelch as he abused your clit, swiping left and right quickly. Your thighs twitched and ached with every curl, trying to close around his hand practically fucking you into sensitivity. Your hands wrapped around his forearm quickly, begging his wrists to stop curling abusively inside of you as you tugged your nails into his skin. Toby wouldn’t, continuing to pump his fingers as he stared at your flushed face, cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. “Just a l- little more… Co- Come on…” He groaned, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milked moans and whines out of you, his fingers glistening with your arousal every time he tugged them out. He couldn’t feel you clawing at his arms, loud groans begging him to let up as your cunt clenched, molding around his thick fingers.

You could feel your orgasm rolling through you, Toby huffing as the veins in his arms popped, his shoulder muscles straining against his shirt as he watched your face carefully, picking up as your moans became louder. “Gonna come f- for me? Yeah?” He teased, clothed cock twitching against your ass, pushing your cheeks apart as he rutted against you. He curled his fingers quicker, mumbling his arousal as he watched your cunt swell around him, clit throbbing under his thumb. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stomach tightening and forcing you to sit up, Toby was quick to let off your clit and wrap his arm around your back, holding you up as he pumped your through your cunt squelching, tightening around his digits. Your eyes rolled, teeth grit tight as he palmed your clit, slowing his pace to a slow thrust as you became undone against him. No orgasm of your own had ever compared to that, head light and chest heavy as you breathed quickly, gripping Toby’s shirt tight.

Refusing to let you go, Toby leaned in, pressing kisses against your neck and licking at your sweat, relishing in the warmth around his digits. You whined, cunt sensitive as he tugged his fingers out, his skin raw and pruned against the wetness coating his digits. Your folds were absolutely drenched, Toby spreading his fingers through your lips and pushing his sopping fingers over your warm thighs wrapped around him. “God, y- you’re so wet-” He gasped, pressing his fingertips back against your clit as he laid you back, gripping your tit. Your mind panicked, cunt flashing with sensitivity as he began to rub against your clit, swiping left and right against the rub quickly. “Toby- Stop- Toby, please-” You cried, breath catching in your throat as your stomach clenched, his fingers pressing hard as he pinched your nipples, eyes trained on your wet pussy. “You e- ever squirt before?” He smiled, transitioning fast between digging his fingers into your cunt and pulling them back out to swipe against your clit. It was nauseating, cunt crying desperately for relief as he dug nails into your tits. Gasping loudly, you gripped his arms, knees screwing tight against his sides as you cried out, hips bucking up against his hands.

Every time his fingers slipped into your entrance, they squelched loudly, fluttering around the intrusion before desperately aching as they tugged out and moved onto your clit. “Squirt li- like a whore, m- mkay? Quit fightin’.” He hissed, letting his hand off your tit and scooping under your left knee, pushing it back to open your cunt wider, spreading your legs further apart. Your head was dizzy, heart pounding as you gasped for air, panting at every push of his fingers. You were already quick to cumming, but it felt weird, not that normal clench you felt in your stomach, more of a strain against your cunt itself. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as he forced your pussy against his will, ruining you.

As he swiped his fingertips down hard against your clit, your entrance clenched, mouth opening wide as you cried out, hips bucking up as you felt your cunt squirt, thighs trembling hard. There was literally nothing to compare it to, mind hazy as you sprayed onto his black shirt, his fingers digging into your entrance and pushing more juices out of your swollen folds. Toby was smiling, moaning his approval as he rubbed your clit softly, pushing the last of your orgasm out as you strained against the mattress. “Gunna fu- fuck you dumb, baby…” He growled, tugging the soaked shirt over his head and tossing it as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and off his legs as his cock hung heavy against your drenched cunt. You couldn’t even react, head spinning as Toby gripped your hips, pushing you onto your side as he grabbed your ankle, pulling it onto his shoulder and straddling your other.

Neck craning with excitement, he teased the tip of his swollen cock between your folds, slicking himself up with your ruined juices. “This is wh- what you wanted, is- isn’t it?” He smiled wildly, pressing his cock into your ruined cunt, groaning loudly as you swallowed him in, warmth gripping tight as he gripped your leg, other hand stable on your tit. You groaned, face turned into the pillow as he began to thrust deep, giving you no mercy as he tugged at your nipple, biting at your calf as he fucked into you. You felt so full, your body so exhausted already as stretched you further, your entrance burning against the sting of this new girth. You squeezed him so tight, cock forcing itself deeper with every tug of his hips as you began to cry, tears staining your pillowcase.

“Fuckin’ tal- alk to me, baby. Gunna mak- make me cum al- already.” He sighed, teeth chewing against the meat of your calf as he pressed your cunt wider, sweat dripping from his nose as his curls clung to his forehead. He let off your tit, left hand slinking up to grip your jaw and turn your face back to look at him, your eyes heavy as they blurred with tears. Toby looked so good right now, cheeks dark against his freckles as he towered above you, cock pushing against your gummy walls and making your mouth hang. “So pretty…” He smiled, slinking his hand down to your throat and squeezing, cock pulsing as your face tightened, mouth gasping out as he clamped tighter, refusing you air. There was something so orgasmic about cutting your airway, watching your body react as he fucked your virgin cunt, holding your life in his hands. He had to breathe deep to stop himself from cumming, his violent brain spasming out.

He pushed your ankle over his head, pulling out roughly as he rolled you onto your stomach, you gasping from the wave of air hitting your lungs. Pushing himself against your ass, Toby swore, pushing his cock back into your cunt as he pushed your back down, making you arch against him. “Just a l- little more, m’kay?” He growled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and squeezing hard, pressing your face down into the pillow. With a new pace, he fucked down into you wildly, hand kneading your ass hard as digging his nails into your skin, little welts forming across the soft flesh. Your muffled cries sounded against the pillow, head light and static filled as you gasped for air, Toby’s cock ramming down against your g-spot. “Never s- seen a bitch so willing, so des- desperate for my dick you’d gi- give it up so easily.” He teased, growling as he let off your neck, neck sore as he leaned down, pushing your hair off your neck. Toby hadn’t felt like this before, wanting to mark you, fucking you so desperately he wanted to carve his shape deep inside. He couldn’t let you go without knowing exactly who you craved, corrupting you, ruining you, molding you to fit only him.

He licked against your shoulder, sucking onto the skin before he pressed his teeth, digging both hands into your hips as he sunk them in, groaning at the pop as your blood soaked his teeth. You were crying, screaming into the pillow as your entire body begged for him, craving him, mind going blank as your blood dripped from his chin as he licked at the wound. He pressed on, nibbling into the crook of your neck and sucking revolting hickies into your skin, marking you like an animal. “Wan- Want you to come on m- my cock, baby. I got- gotta fill you full, want y- you ruined for everyone b- but me.” He mumbled quickly, cock begging to spill inside of your warm cunt as you reached around, gripping his hair as he sunk his teeth in again, walls fluttering around him. You pulled his hair, dragging his mouth off of your neck and to your lips, smashing your swollen, tear-stained lips against his as he groaned, kissing you roughly.

You were cumming again, back arching onto Toby’s cock as you moaned into his mouth, walls holding him tight inside. He tried to move, to continue thrusting, but you were so tight all he could do was rutt his hips, begging for friction as his own seed spilt, his brows screwing tight as he came deep inside of you, warm cum seeping deep into your cunt. Your mind was blank, eyes rolled as you cried into his grasp, his nails digging into your hips until you were nearly bleeding. Your cunt squelched, milking his cock as he finally pulled from your lips, letting the last of your orgasms fizzle out before he pushed off of you, slowly tugging himself out as you whined. Looking back, his cock was soaked, glistening with your arousal and streaks of blood, Toby’s eyes wide. “Ah… Yo- You tore…” He hissed, wiping his soft cock with his shirt before pulling his boxers on, quickly trotting out of your room. You dropped your head back onto the pillow, cunt aching and body ruined as you sat in your sweat and each other’s cum, mind tired as you slowly blinked.

Toby was back in seconds, a water bottle, a wet rag, and a small bag all in tow as he climbed back onto the bed, flipping your lazy body onto your back. You smiled, sipping the water bottle slowly as he began to clean you up, gently running the warm rag between your folds and against your thighs until he was satisfied, gently rubbing your skin. Finally, he grabbed the bag, your confusion evident as he tugged out the prescription bag, rummaging for the plan b he made you buy and popping one of the pills out, handing it to you as he smiled. Your chest welled, previous anxiety dissipating until you began to tear up, taking the small pill before reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down next to you. Toby went easily, body cradling against yours as he kissed against the bruised spots on your neck, rubbing your bite mark gently.

As you began to doze, Toby mumbled something about your note, your mind too dizzy to hear the rest. The last thing you saw was a subtle flash behind your eyelids, sleep overtaking you as Toby held you close.

Morning came quickly, your body stirring, reaching for Toby but finding the bed empty. Confused, you sat up, eyes heavy and head still pounding but you pressed off the bed anyway, searching for the boy. Downstairs, on the countertop, laid his hoodie neatly folded, with a small piece of paper resting on top. Sauntering over, you reached for the top, sliding it over your head, it falling before your hips as you gripped the paper, reading its contents.

On a mission. Be back later tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy ;)

Flipping the paper over, you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth. A small picture was taped to the back, a polaroid-type photo of the two of you cradled together, your bare body pressed against his, bruises and sweat on full display. Smiling, you tucked it into his pocket, breathing the scent of his hoodie deep as Addy circled your ankles, begging for breakfast.

Staring out your back porch door, you made sure it was unlocked, always open for him. Killer or not, that boy was yours now, accepting his every mishap the same way he did yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted.

Rest in Hell, Mr. Higgs.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

2K notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 3 months

Text

Unfair We're Not Somewhere

Chapter Eight of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With a little bit of help from someone who could relate a little bit too closely to your situation, Y/N tries to come clean. Tries.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy symptoms/ general pregnancy things, unsub mentions, plot.

A/N: Chapter Eight! I'm so excited for where the rest of this series is going to go, though I do feel like people are going to be a bit annoyed by this one lmao. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below or in an ask! Don't be too mad...

Masterlist || Add yourself to the tag list

You sat quietly in the clinic as you waited for the pharmacist to fill your prescription - a simple pregnancy multivitamin that was supposed to help your food go down, make your hair shinier, and fix all your problems.

You wondered if the bottle could tell Spencer you were pregnant. You wondered if it could make him magically okay with that and prepare him for fatherhood, too.

Your phone buzzed, and you surfaced from the field of thoughts you'd been lost in as you checked it.

“Outside,” an unknown number had sent. You took that as your queue, stood up, and left the clinic, trying your best to avoid looking back at the small boy Spencer had been playing with.

You weren't sure if you were going to have a boy or a girl yet. You didn't mind either, though you'd always envisioned yourself with a big enough family that you assumed at least one of each was inevitable. Though even you had to admit how stereotypically nuclear that was, and how only 18% of the country was living that was lying anyway.

You shoved psychology from your head for a few minutes and let yourself breathe.

“Y/N!” JJ signalled from the driver's side of her still running SUV. She waved slightly, and you smiled politely as you quickly paced around to the side of her vehicle and got in.

“Hi,” you said, unsure if you should introduce yourself or not. She'd been in the office the day you'd been taken into custody (protection), but you still had yet to speak to her. She'd been exempt from protective duty so far due to her status as a senior field agent and the fact that she had two kids and a husband at home waiting for her.

You were sad she was the anomaly in the BAU, the only one with someone waiting on her.

“I'm Y/N,” you said, still unsure if you should hold out a hand or not. You hadn't made the best impression on most of Spencer's colleagues, and while you didn't think there was much point in trying, you still couldn't bring yourself to be intentionally blasé.

“I know, you're all we've been talking about for weeks,” the woman laughed, pulling out of the clinic car park and smiling at you.

“Oh, right. Case. Of course, I've heard you probably know more about me than I know about myself.”

“We have a profile, sure, but that's not what I meant.”

You nodded awkwardly and stared out the window for a second, the sky darkening slightly as it prepared to rain.

You drove for a few minutes before JJ spoke up again.

“I don't know if Emily told you, but it's actually my day off today,” she said, turning off into a cul-de-sac you'd never seen before.

“Oh, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I could've just got a taxi or something or just… gotten over myself. You didn't have to-”

“Yes, I did,” she looked at you for a second, cocking her head to the side in a gesture that said, ‘and you know why.’ It was a look only a friend would give, and you felt an instant connection with her.

How had Spencer found so many wonderful, big-hearted women to surround himself with, and how could you get in on it?

You supposed, by letting him get you pregnant, you'd probably found a cheat code for whatever the answer might have been.

“Anyway, it's my day off, so I promised my boys a fun day at home with mommy. We're doing finger painting and macaroni art. I hope you don't mind getting messy.”

“Wha-? Me? Oh. No, not at all,” you tried to seem nonchalant, but your heart suddenly beat faster now that you were faced with this unexpected opportunity. As a lecturer, you'd been surrounded by kids professionally for years now. 18 to 21 year old kids. The kind that already had defined morals, world views, and, secretly, alcohol tolerances. The last time you'd encountered any kind of child younger than 18 was when you yourself were under 18.

The joys of toiling away at a doctorate for the better half of your adult life. You knew how to talk to professors and scholars. You were absolutely scared shitless of interacting with a kid.

“H-How old are they?” You asked, trying to sound polite but falling somewhere between anxious and terrified with a simple stutter.

“Well, Henry is turning 8 in November, and Michael is just about 22 months. He's just about talking, which is as fun as you can expect.”

Her voice was tired, but there was genuine affection there, love for her kids and pride. You wondered if your voice would change if you'd suddenly begin speaking like that, too, about something other than a paper submitted to a journal or a job opportunity.

She pulled into a street parking space and turned off the engine as two bright haired little boys came bouncing up the path of their garden to greet her, stopping at the gate.

“Mommy! Michael got glitter on the carpet, and Daddy said we shouldn't tell you.”

“And you have no sense of loyalty when a pretty face comes around, do you?”

Hopping out of the car, you heard JJ's husband drawl as she greeted him with a kiss. She'd probably only taken half an hour to pick you up, but they were still greeting each other so warmly. For a second, you wondered what that would be like before you remembered throwing yourself into Spencer's arms the night before. Your face heated as you stood awkwardly at the side of the car, trying not to cradle your stomach as you watched the family interact.

Would your baby ever get that tall? Would it have brown eyes like Spencer, or one's more similar to your own? His hair was curly. Maybe your baby would get hair that waved like his, too.

After all, JJ's kids seemed like perfect compromises between her and her husband. Other people's kids didn't, though. You wondered a lot of things before JJ gestured you over again.

“Henry, Michael, this is Aunt Y/N. She's going to do those crafts with us today - after we've locked away the glitter and thrown away the key.”

You laughed as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pushed you forward into the chaos of two kids under ten.

You were a little startled as the smaller one - Michael - grabbed your hand. He had a pacifier in his mouth, though he was probably outgrowing it, and he stared up at you with big, wide eyes, blinking and sizing you up as he toddled along beside you.

Your heart grew three sizes, and you felt sorry for ever being afraid of interacting with the kids.

JJ whispered to her husband quickly as you entered the LaMontagne household, and he greeted you quickly.

“So you're Spencer's lady friend. It's nice to meet you. It's nice that you're real. Honestly, I was getting a little-”

A look from JJ cut him off, though he did still seem a bit confused.

“I'm sorry, am I under the wrong impression? JJ said you were pregnant with Spencer's baby, y'all aren't…”

“Oh my god-” you whispered, suddenly panicking again but whispering just in case. You weren't sure if the pair was religious, and though you certainly weren't, it probably wasn't the best time to blaspheme. You needed as much god as existed in the world.

“So, does everyone know?” You asked JJ, trying to keep your voice bright and calm, so Michael didn't take too much of an interest and grow frustrated by hushed tones. You knew enough about child development and psychology, it translated over, right?

“Everyone who's observant. Luke noticed the pregnancy vitamins in your bag, Tara was talking about your mood swings in the office the other day. I guess you told Emily earlier, and I have two kids.”

You nodded at the answer.

“And Spencer?”

“You haven't told him yet?” JJ asked, slightly surprised.

“If I told him, you'd know.”

“Well, you're right on that. He's not the most easy-going during pregnancy,” JJ laughed and steered you into the living space, where your de facto art studio had been set up for the day, along with the offending glitter bomb.

“Really? You thought you could keep that a secret?”

“Well, of anyone was going to find it, it was going to be my beautiful, smart, funny, profiler Wife,” Will said, giving her a small peck on the cheek as she rolled her eyes at him. “I'm clocking in now. Call me if you need anything.”

You waved him off, and sat down with the kids.

JJ started the craft and then planned your hasty escape as the two boys were enraptured by making the perfect macaroni necklace, dusting it in objectively too much glitter as they proudly created their art.

In the kitchen, she handed you a mug, and you sipped it quietly as she began again.

“So, you're not dating?”

“Nope.”

“And he doesn't know you're pregnant?”

“No.” You took another sip and shifted from one foot to the other.

You knew what was coming next. It was what you'd gotten next from Emily, from Penelope, from yourself when you'd thought about it for longer than ten seconds. You needed to tell him.

“Okay. What's your next move?”

You were so shocked you almost splashed the hot tea over the mug you held, close to burning yourself as you turned to face her.

“I… what?”

“Well, what's your next move? You're what, five months along? You're not going to be able to hide it for much longer. And you have to think about maternity leave, your hospital stay, and names, and who's going to drive you to the hospital. And obviously, how you're going to pay the hospital fee, and then custody and child support.”

“Oh god…”

“And you also have to sort your relationship out with Spencer. So where are you starting?”

It wasn't a question that didn't have an answer. JJ was staring at you, waiting for one as you opened and closed your mouth, head suddenly so empty you almost forgot what you were talking about.

“He doesn't like me,” you suddenly blurted and wished you hadn't, face crumpling as you physically cringed at your own words.

“Y/N, he was telling us about your toothbrush yesterday. Part of the office has a theory that he made up this case as a reason to get closer to you.”

Again, you felt the heat blossom on tour skin as you looked away, taking another sip.

“We don't do anything but argue.”

“You do at least one other thing,” JJ said, hands on her hips as she confronted you.

“No, that doesn't count. We were still arguing while we were doing…that.”

“TMI,” she groaned as you fanned yourself. “Y/N, I know for a fact that Spencer is at least half in love with you. If you're absolutely sure you don't feel the same way, you need to at least let him down easy.”

“I…. I don't know. He's infuriating sometimes, but then he's so smart and annoying. But he's pretty great at comforting me. And the, uh, the other stuff, that was good, too.”

“Don't need to-”

“Like really good. Like, I'm not surprised I ended up pregnant practically first time good-”

“Back on topic, please!” JJ whisper shouted, throwing her hands up as you zipped your mouth shut.

“You like him,” she said.

You sighed and finally gave in.

“Yeah. Yeah, I like him.”

“Great. What next?”

“Next, I tell him I'm pregnant and make him hate me for a while.”

She patted you on the back and poised you another mug of tea before leading you back over to the kids and sitting beside them at the table.

“We can plan something later. For now, macaroni art is calling.”

You weren't sure if it was the stern, practical pep-talk from JJ or the little tiny grasp of your hand from Michael. Maybe it was even Henry's goodbye of ‘see you soon, Auntie Y/N’ that had you suddenly invigorated, but you suddenly kicked yourself into gear.

The pregnancy wasn't going to put itself on pause while you worked up the courage to tell Spencer about it. You had to do it.

JJ dropped you off at home at 6 p.m., knowing that Spencer would be back at the apartment shortly.

“You're sure you don't need me to stay up there with you? The commute can get a bit long this time of night, Spencer could be anywhere between 15 and 45 minutes.”

“No, I think… I think I need some time to think about how I'm going to do this. I need some alone time.”

She nodded quietly and sent you off after calling Spencer and giving him an update on your whereabouts.

You paced the apartment wondering what the best option was.

You could go for the bookshelf again, though it was still organised into your first message. You'd not moved a book in that stack at all, and surprisingly, neither had Spencer.

Running into your room, you grabbed the pair of baby shoes you'd thrown into your bag from your apartment. Maybe if you left them on the shelf next to the books…?

You put them there and frowned, wondering if he'd be able to see them from the door when he walked in. He was so used to the surroundings of his house that he really didn't check for irregularities.

You moved them to the coffee table. Then you wondered if you should just hand them to him when he walked in.

“Spencer. I am..pregnant,” you practised, looking into the bathroom mirror as you tried to force a smile.

“Spencer. We're pregnant. No, not a chance,” you sighed.

“Spencer, I have a parasite growing in me. I've had it for five months now, and then I'll have it for another four and hopefully a long time after that as well.”

That one was mostly a joke. Mostly.

“Spencer, I… We're going to have a baby.” You looked down at your bump again and decided that was probably your best option. It wasn't a state. It wasn't a condition or a parasite. It was a baby.

You rubbed your stomach again and looked up, wiping away tears from the corner of your eye as you composed yourself again.

The doorbell rang, and your heart race picked up. It was time. Spencer was home, and you were going to tell him.

Suddenly, you were filled with excitement, with happiness. You ran to the door, stepping on the sofa to get there quicker as you ran to pull it open.

Maybe it was the pregnancy brain fog, but you forgot where you were.

Spencer Reid lived in this apartment. He didn't need to knock on the door or ring the doorbell. He'd never done it before. But you'd already swung the door open quickly, and you were so relaxed and ready for it to be him that when a hand extended and covered your mouth with a cloth, thick with a scent that had your body protesting, you could do nothing but crumple to the floor with your hands cradling yourself, protecting the life growing within you.

🔖@mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @2hiigh2cry @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig

@pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read

@ari-aurelia @flipsideoflife @mggreidsreads @@farfromthehomelands @spicyspirit @donttrustlove @chicaconfudidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @@nvrlandqueen @delicatelittleworld @nokjhg @measure-in-pain @famouslynerdy @batrensworld @batrensworld

@Cattosmush @im-this-girl @Sarcasm-and-stiles @lovemelaunic @lllucere@ Cattosmush @lariclifford @daphnesutton Ccatstars @Iniyalovesall @solemnarration @emma-e-a @haygirleyhay Mel-knee @broadwaytraaaaash @Wildflowerpassion @itshardtopickaname @Timidquindim

@yourfavoritefangirl @waywardxrhea @Aliceofonederland @joshuafatubaee @jc10622 @timeboundkate @Roslxnxx @Gensthoughts23 @marvelshittt @lavvylove @Slitherss @mythumbhurts @Xiaexact @Honestlyloving @maryyy-8

@timeboundkate @justdamnpeachy @awezomezauce @darling006 @thefalseapp @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @fabulouslynerdy @short-mess @maeganme @crazyunsexycool @redmoonsofvenus @supraveng @lilscb @jackierose902109 @thebooklocket

504 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 7 months

Text

i’m sorry i let you down ~ eminem

word count: 1492

request?: yes!

“Hii. I was wondering if you could do an Eminem imagine where the reader is his daughter who is going through addiction like he used to?”

description: she promised herself that things wouldn’t get bad, but when they do she has to come clean to her dad about her problem

pairing: eminem x daughter!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of drug addiciton and withdrawals, some use of y/n, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

She promised herself things wouldn’t get bad. She knew about her dad’s addiction. She knew how bad it was. He had warned her to be careful when her doctor’s prescribed pain medication to help with post-surgery pain she was having. In fact, (Y/N) was reluctant to take the meds at all. She didn’t want to even risk getting hooked on them the same way her dad did. But, after a day of the pain being too much to bare, she caved and took the meds.

I’ll have control of this, she told herself. It won’t get bad. Once I’m healed, I’ll stop taking them.

She kept telling herself that as she got a refill after taking all of the first bottle. She convinced herself she still needed them as she went back to her doctor to ask for another prescription. Even after she healed and was given clearance to go back to her normal life, she told herself she still needed the prescriptions.

Eventually, she recognized that she had a problem, but by that point it was far too late.

(Y/N) knew she should’ve reached out for help when she realized she had a problem. Especially to her dad, who had struggled before and had already gone through detox and rehab. But she felt too ashamed to tell anyone. She didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t heeded Marshall’s warnings and started taking the pain meds anyways. She knew how he would react, and she didn’t want to let him down. She thought she could handle it on her own. She knew she had a problem, so that meant she could fix it, right?

But the withdrawal symptoms were too strong when she tried to stop. She’d shiver yet be sweating, she couldn’t keep food down, and she’d be awake all night, among other things. She broke down too easily to make the withdrawal stop, and then had to start the process all over again. It was a never ending loop.

And it probably would’ve continued endlessly, if Marshall hadn’t found her.

She was in the middle of a bad bought of withdrawals, hunched over her toilet as the contents of her lunch emptied from her stomach. Because of this, (Y/N) didn’t hear the knock at her front door, nor did she hear the door open and shut. It wasn’t until someone was kneeling down next to her that she realized anyone else was there. And to her horror, it was Marshall.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice full of fatherly concern. His eyes studied her face, slick with sweat and pale from how sick she had been.

She couldn’t lie to him. Not when he was looking at her. He’d see right through her. So, she nodded to the garbage bin next to the sink. When he looked, he saw the empty pill bottle she had flushed hours ago to stop herself from relapsing. Marshall knew immediately and sprang into action. He gave (Y/N) a wet cloth to wipe her face and told her to meet him in the car when she was ready.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“You’ll be better off at rehab. They can help you through the withdrawal.”

When he left, (Y/N) allowed herself to cry.

~~~~~~

A few days in rehab proved to be much better than the weeks (Y/N) had been trying to get clean on her own. The withdrawal was still hard, but like her dad said, they helped her through it. Besides sleep still being an issue, everything else had mostly passed.

Her sisters came to visit after the second day of her being there, and her mom called almost every night, but she had yet to hear from Marshall.

“He’s not mad,” Hailie had assured her. “He’s just glad he found you when he did.”

(Y/N) didn’t believe her.

It was nearly a week later when one of the workers told (Y/N) she had a visitor. When she entered the visiting room, she stopped in her tracks when she saw Marshall had been waiting for her.

He stood, but hesitated a moment before moving to hug her. She gratefully accepted the gesture.

“You look at lot better,” he said as they sat down.

“I feel mostly better. I’m still not sleeping, but that’s it.”

“The insomnia is the worst part. It’ll take time, but eventually it’ll get better.”

(Y/N) nodded. She suddenly felt like she couldn’t look her father in the eye. She was glad he had finally come, but now he was here her shame had returned. Not only shame that she had fallen into addiction, but also the fact that Marshall had to find out the way he did.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, her voice small.

Marshall seemed shocked. “For what?”

A lump was forming in (Y/N)’s throat. She tried to swallow it down so she could speak. “For letting you down.”

“Honey, who said you let me down?”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Please, dad. No one had to tell me. It’s kind of obvious.”

He was still looking at her in confusion.

“You told me not to take the pain meds,” she said. “You warned me and I did it anyways. I was stupid enough to think I could have a control on them, but I didn’t. I let myself fall into addiction and I let myself suffer because I was stupid and didn’t take your warnings.”

Tears were running down her cheeks. She looked away from Marshall and tried to wipe them away, but it was no use. They were falling so quickly that as soon as she wiped one away, another took it’s place.

“(Y/N), you didn’t let me down,” Marshall said. “You’re not stupid for taking the meds. I didn’t tell you not to take them, I said to be careful taking them. Doctors prescribe those types of medication for a reason, and obviously you needed them if you started taking them in the first place. The unfortunate thing is, a lot of those pain meds can become addictive and some doctors don’t seem to care about that. It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed,” (Y/N) admitted. “You’ve always told us about your problem, and I felt like if I told you about mine that...you would be disappointed in me.”

“I would never be disappointed in you for struggling. We can’t control things like that, no matter how many times I’ve told you about my addiction or how many precautions you try to take. If anything, I was disappointed that you hadn’t told me about it, but I realize now you only did that because you were scared.”

(Y/N) nodded. She had been scared. She knew her dad wouldn’t be the only one who would be upset about finding out about her addiction, but he was the one she was most worried about getting a reaction from considering his past. At the time, she couldn’t bare to think about the look on his face if she had come clean before. Now, though, she was starting to realize that the smartest decision would’ve been to tell someone long ago.

“You waited to come visit,” she said. “I thought - ”

“It was because I was mad,” he finished. “Hailie told me.”

“But thinking more clearly, it’s probably because you were waiting for me to get a little better, right? Mom said that’s why she hasn’t come yet. She was afraid to see me in the early stages of detoxing.”

“Well, there was that. I’ll be honest, the state I found you in still haunts me a little bit. But also, I don’t exactly have fond memories about being in a place like this, so coming to visit was hard.”

(Y/N) almost face palmed. Of course, that made sense. Visiting someone in rehab had to be tough on its own, but visiting after you yourself had gone through rehab had to have a whole other layer of trauma to it she was sure.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “For everything. I should’ve told you long ago about what I was going through.”

“I don’t blame you for not telling me. I’m just glad that you’re okay, and that I found you in the stages of withdrawal and not something else.”

They both stood and hugged again. (Y/N) was reluctant to let her dad go, but she knew he couldn’t stay all day. The fact that he came at all was a relief, and she was feeling better after their conversation.

“I’ll come back in a few days,” he promised her. “And I’ll visit regularly until you’re out.”

“I’d really like that,” she said. “Thank you, dad.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, sweetheart.” He pulled her in for one last hug and kissed the top of her head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #daughter!reader #imagine #one shot #request #rpf #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

339 notes · View notes

professionalchaoticdumbass · 2 months

Note

if it’s not too much trouble, could you share a bit about how to better support closeted/ just-cracked trans women?

Okay this is going to be a fairly long response, be warned. Its also based off personal experience (or lack of positive experience) from how I'm treated irl. also its 4 am some of this may be less coherent than I want but whatever.

The basics: name & pronouns. Ask who its safe to use these in front of!!! Dont out someone to their parents or partner or boss!! Otherwise use these as much as possible. Avoid deadnames and dead-pronouns as much as possible too - I am fine with being they/themed over he/him and prefer a nameless "later, nerd" to "bye, deadname". sometimes its unavoidable but many times its not. this is 101 stuff but I see lots of people forget it.

Going out and about: GO. WITH. HER. A LOT. She fucking needs it. Go clothes shopping together and teach her how to pick out good clothes/outfits and how to at least begin to decipher the mess that is sizing. Find her a "spinny skirt" (pleated mini skirt or skater skirt, forgot the exact one but anything similar to those) if she really wants one, I dont care how cringe you find the memes this is more important than Reddit Bad jokes. IF YOU ARE ABLE TO, TAKE HER TO THE WOMENS WASHROOM WITH YOU. yknow how girls go to the bathroom in groups for safety? yeah trans women need triple that safety and nobody provides it like ever, even other trans women. change that and be that safety. also, if youre like ordering food or at the cashier, always use the correct pronouns even if misgendering happens. if she gets a "what would you like sir" from the waiter, you are going to say something like "she would like a cheeseburger with fries and a fountain drink". this will save her ass from a lot of awkward correcting.

transitioning & hrt: if she needs a space to wear femme clothes safely, invite her over or go out together. try to avoid places where people she's not out to frequently go. for hrt, if you already accessed it HELP HER AS WELL. the amount of people who are like one step removed from pulling the ladder up behind them with regards to hrt is insane. so much "fuck you got mine" attitude in this community. anyways, DESCRIBE THE PROCESS YOU WENT THROUGH, STEP BY STEP. mention specific doctors, clinics, etc. if you do diy, mention the provider, what to look for on blood work, how to take it (injection, gel, etc) and send relevant articles/pages, about each part, not just the hrt wiki home page. if you have a prescription, mention ANY AND ALL procedures you went through to get hrt. psychologist? readiness assessment? any other screening process? DESCRIBE IN DETAIL WHAT YOU WERE ASKED AND HOW YOU ANSWERED. this can literally be a life saving thing. treat that information like the death star plans and she is the rebellion. precise motherfucking details. similar thing for any surgeries like ffs, tracheal shave, various types of bottom surgery. if you and her are going through different systems (say, you got it under 18 as a youth and she's 22 and no longer qualifies for that, or she wants diy while you have a prescription) then look up third party anecdotes as well. reddit is great for this as they often have city specific trans subreddits which lets you look at local doctors/clinics/providers & shipping. if she gets hit with dysphoria, "you are valid" CAN help new girls but as a half closeted girl for the past three years, I know I'm valid already thank you very much. dysphoria is different to each person, just be there to comfort her, help distract if nothing else. Teach her to shave if she wants, offer to do her makeup if you know how (some tutorials are made by and for trans women btw! check those out if you can). if she wants to order things online, anything from a flag to a dress to diy hrt, but can't for fear of outing, OFFER TO BE THE RECEIVING ADDRESS AND PASS IT ON IN PERSON. you can also try setting up a PO box away from home. covering some costs can potentially help lower suspicion but only do this of you have the money. in general just be a safe & informative helpful person who is willing to stand by her side.

Other general tips:

- if you are transfem yourself you will know and experience many of these things. do not withhold information like others do. did you have another trans person in your own life who helped you out when you first cracked? if yes, now its your turn. if no, then dont let her lose out on that too. actually support your sisters for once.

- if you are having sex, she may want to be submissive and/or bottom more as these are often "forbidden" when youre male. if thats compatible with you then try to accommodate that, and throw in some gender affirming stuff like a "good girl". praise kink often works well here, but always ask first. teach her how to bottom if she wants. AFTERCARE holy shit aftercare. yeah that should also be at least skmewhat gender affirming. dont skip out.

- the self doubt spiral: "you are valid" are the three words that get way more use than they really should. "valid" is so vague that its near useless. if you can, find the specific root (e.g. "I feel like a pervert cuz I get euphoria boners when I wear a sexy dress") and respond with counter examples that tell her she belongs, she is a woman, e.g. "youre not a pervert, plenty of cis women feel similar and enjoy dressing sexy as well". this is mainly for self doubt not other types of dyphoria.

- she will probably be really fucking depressed and possibly even suicidal at some point. usually close to egg crack or after a shitty experience. personally, I have a lot of passive suicidal thoughts where I dont wnat to make any attempts but wouldn't mind if I vanished, if it weren't for a few things. try to be there as a rock in the stream for her to hold onto during depression. it is fucking rough and in the words of bill withers, we all need somebody to lean on. eventually we will all stand tall together.

I am sure there's more but I think I covered most of the points I wanna make.

119 notes · View notes

jahayla-parker · 2 months

Note

OMG another idea! what about freddy x wife!reader? where she is filming her morning routine (skin care, breakfast, mini workout or yoga or stuff like that, ya know?) and we see freddy in the background and he'll make small comments on stuff then just joins her half way through

Morning Routine : Freddy Carter x Wife!Reader

Descr: Freddy’s wife y/n is asked by Company UK (a British Magazine Agency) to film her morning routine for her fans and her husband ends up guest starring in it. Fluff

Warnings: mentions of exercise and medications., flirtations and relationship components, marriage, food/eating, I think that’s all!

“Hi everyone! It’s y/n y/l/n Carter! This is the first time I’ve done one of these, so hopefully you like it!” Y/n chuckled shyly. She bit her lip bashfully as she saw her husband mouth ‘you’ve got this’ from behind her camera. She pulled herself together and grinned at the camera as she began to explain what she was going to be recording today. The magazine, Company UK, had requested that she film a morning routine video for her fans.

“We’re going to start off with my skincare routine,” y/n narrated as she steadied her phone in the corner of the bathroom counter. “But, first I’m going to brush my teeth.”

“Okay now that that’s done,” y/n commented as she dried her mouth. “Time for skincare! So, I start with y/fav/product and we’re going to put a little of this,” she said and showed the camera her next product. “I just rub it in nice and gently like this and it’ll help to enhance things!” She grinned over at the camera as she set the latest product down. “And just like that, we’ve finished my daily skincare routine!”

“Even though she doesn’t need any of it to look as radiant as she always does”, Freddy commented lovingly as he walked past the doorway to their bathroom.

Y/n grinned widely and laughed giddily to herself. “Another part of my routine,” she winked and nodded her head backwards towards the door. “My hype man for life,” she beamed as she proudly lifted her left hand up to show her cherished wedding ring.

“So now that we’re back in the bedroom, I take my morning medications and supplements,” y/n informed her viewers as she walked to her dresser. “I like to take them with a full glass a water to start off my proper hydration for the day”. Y/n intentionally kept the bottles at an angle so that the names of her prescriptions wouldn’t be in view of the camera. “I won’t show what exactly I’m taking as I can’t give medical advice, after all, I’m not a doctor!” she joked with a careless shrug of her shoulders.

“Smart enough to be though,” Freddy murmured as he walked by. He gave y/n a quick kiss on her cheek as he continued on his route to their closet in order to grab some clean clothes out for himself for the day.

“They said to simply comment on my process and otherwise act as normal for the video,” y/n told the camera with a content smile. “And clearly, my sweet husband is taking that responsibility seriously”. It was true, Freddy was always loving on her like this.

“Mmm,” Freddy hummed and looked over at y/n due to hearing her mentioning him. “I can shut up,” he joked, blushing some. He grinned as his wife lovingly shook her head as she walked over to him. His grin grew as y/n relaxed in his arms and let him pull her in for a hug.

“I’m not complaining Freddy, but you know, they’re probably going to think it’s staged.”

Freddy shrugged, “let ‘em think what they will, love”. He brushed some hair from y/n’s forehead and looped it around her ear, his hand roaming admiringly over her cheek and jaw as she gazed warmly into his eyes. “I’m going to go change and then start brunch, alright?” He whispered softly. Y/n nodded making him hum softly and give her a tender squeeze before they parted.

“Uh anyways”, y/n spoke through her giggles as she moved closer to the camera. Focus. She blinked rapidly as she tried to guide her mind back to paying attention to her routine video and not on her sweet husband.

“So I don’t know if you guys could hear our conversation just now or not,” y/n transitioned, “but those of who have watched some of my husband Freddy’s more viral interviews will already know this, but he loves to cook breakfast slash brunch. Like loves it.” “I’m a very lucky woman,” she grinned. “So while he’s doing that,” she giggled, moving to grab her yfc yoga mat from the corner of their bedroom. “We’re going to do some yoga to get warmed up for a brief exercise a little later. But first, let me go change out of my pajamas cause this is a family show!” she joked showing her pajamas to the camera before pausing the recording. After changing into yoga pants and a loose comfy top, y/n resumed the video as she walked to the living room. “Alright, so let’s get going.” She began to narrate the process of setting up and starting her yoga. As y/n went through her yoga routine, she explained the poses and benefits of them for her fans. As she moved into her next pose, she noticed Freddy could be seen walking by behind her in the background. She concluded Freddy likely had no knowledge that he was in the shot as he stopped to smile at her, watching her silently for a moment. Y/n grinned and proudly continued to talk to the camera as Freddy resumed whatever he had been doing.

“Darling, you ready to eat?” Freddy called out as Y/n set her notebook down after having done some self care exploration/ personal growth work in it. She beamed excitedly as she stood up. She laughed at herself as she sprinted to grab her phone from its stand in order to keep the camera with her as she was to very eager to eat brunch with her husband.

As y/n made it to the table, Freddy pulled the chair out for her. Thanking him, she sat down beside him and kissed his cheek. He leaned over and reached around her as he moved to help prop the camera up.

“Wait, hold on,” y/n stopped Freddy. “They need to see the amazing meal you made,” she commented, momentarily taking her phone back. She turned her camera around as she showed the spread.

Freddy blushed proudly as he watched his happy wife. She was so precious.

When y/n was done showing off her husband’s cooking, she smiled at the camera, “okay!” She handed her phone back to Freddy and watched with appreciation at he set it up. However, when she checked to see what all was in the shot, she noticed Freddy wasn’t in it. She pouted lightly as she moved to adjust it. “You’re part of my routine, handsome,” she grinned, giggling as Freddy playfully retaliated to her flirting by attacking her sides with tickles before giving her a kiss.

After brunch, y/n stood up from the table, “I’m going to show them my morning workout. Wanna join, sweetheart?”

Freddy groaned dramatically but nodded his head in agreement. He pushed back from the table and began to gather the plates so he could wash them.

“Freddy,” y/n cooed. “I can get that, love” she argued, moving to stop his tidying up.

Freddy turned to look over his shoulder at y/n. “‘s alright, y/n/n,” he smiled. “Go on and get your camera and stuff set up in the gym, I’ll clean this up”.

Y/n tsked lovingly as she made her way over to Freddy. She hummed warmly and kissed his cheek as a thanks.

“Okay, so,” y/n explained after she finished stabilizing her phone in the gym. “Today is leg day,” she laughed as she began preparing each station. “I love leg day, but Freddy hates it.” Moving aside some random weights, she added, “I read somewhere that’s a common difference between men and women for some reason” with a shrug. “Truthfully, I didn’t remember it was leg day when I asked him to join, we’ll see if he’s still up for it,” she chuckled.

Freddy waltzed in with reusable water bottles for them both, a clueless smile on his lips. He winked as he made his way over to y/n. “All set up, darling?”

“Mmhm,” y/n hummed. “But, uh…” she trailed off. She pursed her lips as her husband stared back at her with his eyebrows raised in suspicion. She silently walked over to Freddy and batted her eyes at him.

“What did you do?” Freddy teasingly asked.

Y/n giggled innocently and shook her head, “nothing, but it’s leg day today”.

Freddy groans. “And cardio?”

Y/n softly nodded. “Are you still going to join me for both?” She pouted pleadingly.

Freddy smirked faintly at y/n’s overdramatic pout, looking away so as to not crack.

Y/n squinted in slight annoyance and gently turned Freddy’s head back towards her before she amplified her act.

A deep blush covered Freddy’s face as he nodded in acceptance.

“Yay! Thank you sunshine!” Y/n cheered as she kissed Freddy’s cheek. She then ran over to the treadmill. Unbeknownst to her, the camera picked up her husband grinning at her antics. “So we only have one the treadmill, so we’ll be alternating with each other,” she instructed, smiling over at her husband, “while I do an inclined sprint, Freddy will start with a circuit of mountain climbers, squatting burpees, and lunges”. “We’ll go for ten minutes then switch and repeat this cycle three times,” she explained.

As y/n and Freddy finished their last cycle of cardio, she sweetly dabbed Freddy’s sweaty forehead with a towel. “Alright honey, ready for some weighted, leg day exercises?” She inquired. When he begrudgingly agreed, she grinned and walked to her water bottle near her phone. “See, he loves me,” she said with a wink directed at the camera before smirking over at him.

Freddy chuckled as he made his way over.

“Boooo, you’re all sweaty,” y/n joked as Freddy gave her a brief hug.

“So are you, dear,” Freddy smiled, reaching up to fix some of y/n’s now-frizzy hair.

Y/n hummed quietly. She found herself leaning into Freddy’s hand for a moment as she caught her breath. “Don’t district me,” she gasped dramatically as she jokingly shook her head at him, stepping back.

“Are you sending this whole thing in?” Freddy questioned as he adjusted the metal bar so y/n could get up since she’d finished her reps.

Y/n shook her head as she took Freddy’s extended hand, letting him help her up. “No, I’m not going to make them watch us workout for an hour,” she giggled. “I’m gonna edit it first,” she informed him as she sat on the bench.

“Mmm, in that case,” Freddy murmured as he moved to pin y/n backwards against the bench.

“Freddy!” Y/n shrieked in surprise, as Freddy towered over her. Her eyes were wide as her laughter rang out around the room.

Freddy beamed and bent down to give his wife a sweet kiss. “That’s all I wanted,” he defended with an innocent expression. He stood up and helped y/n back up again.

“Mhmm,” y/n stated, side eyeing Freddy skeptically. “Behave yourself,” she teased with a light shove as she moved to grab weights for their next exercise.

“Alright, for a cool down we’re going to do some light stretching that’ll mostly focus on our legs to relax the muscles after weight training,” y/n told the camera.

“Ugh,” Freddy groaned. “Those are the worst,” he complained.

Y/n laughed. “You’re getting better!” She reassured, grinning when it caused Freddy to blush. “Now come on, you can do it.” She gave him an encouraging smile before moving to her yoga mat. “We’ll start with downward facing dog,” y/n instructed, getting into pose.

“My calves,” Freddy whined as he complied.

Y/n’s laughter made her posture shake a little. “Focus on your breathing, Freddy,” she advised, “each exhale, try to loosen those muscles”.

“Oh, this one’s not too bad,” Freddy observed as he sat in what y/n said was pigeon pose.

Y/n smiled over at her husband supportively. “See you’re doing it,” she commented sweetly.

Freddy nodded. “But I’m not doing that,” he stated dramatically as he watched y/n enhance her iteration of the pose by lifting her extended leg upward by pulling on her foot.

Y/n chuckled loudly. She glanced over at Freddy and took in the look of fearful disbelief he’d been making at her. She ended up laughing so hard she gracelessly dropped her foot back to the mat, “Freddy!”

“That wasn’t part of the instructions!” Freddy exclaimed defensively.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “You didn’t have to do that part.” “I just didn’t feel a stretch without it anymore”.

“Show off.”

“Hey!” Y/n scoffed as she leaned toward Freddy and gently pushed him over.

After some more stretching, the couple finally finished. “Alright, whew. We’re done!” Y/n said, dusting her hands off. “And that means, all that’s left in my morning routine is a shower to get cleaned up, so yeah! I hope you all had fun watching this!” She paused and looked over to Freddy who was curled up on the bench and shook her head teasingly. “Bye everyone!”

Once y/n had turned her phone’s camera off for the day, she slid the device into her yoga pants’ side pocket. “Honey?” She asked softly as she made her way overtoher husband. “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up and then you can relax on the couch some until you have to be on set, huh?” She offered, gently helping guide him off the gym bench with a loving smile.

Freddy Carter Navigation

Kaz Brekker Navigation

All My Works Masterlist Navigation

Tag List: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @missdreamofendless @alex-kazbrekkersimp @historynerd7 @opheliaofficial07 @el-de-phi @nikfigueiredo @whistle1whistle @booklover2389

#freddy carter x reader #freddy carter #Freddy Carter x you #Freddy Carter x wife #Freddy Carter x y/n #Freddy Carter preferences #Freddy Carter imagine #kaz brekker x reader #Freddy Carter one shot #six of crows #soc #soc x reader #original post

80 notes · View notes

newtkive · 8 months

Text

pixels [newt x reader - modern text au]

ch. 4 - agoraphobia and burger king on 5th street

summary: a personal experience provides a way for newt to connect to y/n.

warnings: strong language, mental health talk, depression, medication (its my literal prescription i mention oops this is like a self insert fr), mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

THE GLADE

[ 10:52 am ]

y/n: it’s official yall

drugs saved my life

tommy: huh??

minho: same

newt: wow, i’ve never seen your name on my screen before 12 pm

y/n: shut the hell up bitch

newt: ouch, touchy

minho: woah

touchy 👀

are yallll..?

y/n: you’re sick

tommy: are we going to ignore the drugs statement??

like hello are u ok ??

newt: you’re annoying minho

minho: yea <3 😊

notice how they didn’t say no

y/n: you guys just don’t understand how a girl like me needs beauty sleep..

and no we aren’t

gally: all that beauty sleep and ur still walking around with that mug.. yikes.

y/n: 😑

i hate you i haete you i dhateoyifu

minho: great she’s having a fit

y/n: no one cares about me

and you think i’m ugly

this is so sick

and you don’t even care that i’m on drugs

☹️😭😭😭😭 done.

newt: no one said that love

gally that was rude

minho: BRUHHHHH

here she goes

tommy: I CAREE????????

DO I NEED TO COMEGET YOU????

y/n: yes 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

before i do something crazy 😭😭💣

minho: THE BOMB IS WILD

tommy: stay where you are

i have your location

newt: uhhh

y/n: pause what

minho: tommy why would you admit to that

tommy: im On my way! what’s the issue

sorry autocorrect

y/n: WHY DO YOU HAVE MY LOCATION????

gally: can you guys shut the fuck up

minho: the drama queen is here 😍

gally: stop

alby: I have it on Life360, I imagine Thomas does as well. In fact I have all of your locations.

y/n: oh

i forgot about that app..

minho: i didn’t. i get a notif that newt’s phone is at 5% all the goddamn time

even tho he said he deleted it

newt: just turn it off then

i redownloaded it don't track my app intake

minho: no it makes me feel less lonely

y/n: awwwww

idk how you do that newt

newt: do what?

y/n: not charge your phone

if my phone gets below like 15% then the monsters will get me

tommy: omg me tooo 🥹

newt: i was about to say you sound like tommy.

tommy: don’t say that!

she’s on drugs i don’t want to sound like an addict 😔

newt: she isn’t on drugs thomas

tommy: she literally said she is newt :/

5 mins and i’m there y/n

y/n: are you actually fr

thomas..

we live very far away sweetie

newt: i mean

if you were in trouble you don’t think we’d come get you?

tommy: ^^

but life360 says you’re at the burger king on 5th

minho: no that’s me LOOOL

y/n: NEWTTT ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

tommy: wtf

i’m the one who’s coming to get u

why does he get the credit

minho: no tommy you’re coming to get me

tommy: oh yippee i get to see my friend 🤗

newt: ewwwwww

y/n: EWWWWW

tommy: OH STOP IT

y/n: why burger king of all places min

minho: why drugs of all things y/n

gally: she’s not doing drugs are you guys fuckin insane

y/n: yes i am

it’s 10 mg of fluoxetine 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ONCE A DAY!!!!!!

IM ADDICTED

newt: no you aren’t, 10 mg is the smallest dose

minho: told y’all she was on drugs

y/n: ???????

minho: over the year

you’re too hyper to not be on some crack shit

tommy: oh stop that’s not nice.

newt: it’s not drugs like that minho stop.

tommy: uhoh he brought out the . at the end

y/n: it’s just for anxiety cuz i can’t leave the house without going into a breakdown

minho: she got acrophobia

told y’all she was mental

newt: what the fuck are you talking about

tommy: oh i know that word

fear of spiders 🕷️

minho: wtf no

fear of outside

y/n: i’m not afraid of outside

newt: that’s agoraphobia you fucking dumbass

y/n: 😍

i did NOT mean to send that lol oops

newt: ??

oh, okay

minho: when he’s a know it all 😍

when she’s agoraphobic 😍

y/n: when he’s at burger king on 5th because he has no food in his fridge and can only afford a $1.99 whopper with the coupons from the newspaper 😍😍😍😍

minho: 😒😑

newt: LMFAOOOO

GOOD THAT

minho: british people be so annoying

saying shit like gormless minger and good that be sooo real rn

newt: i have never said gormless minger in my whole 26 years of life.

y/n: you just did bro

newt: call me bro again

y/n: bro

brosive

brother

stepbro

minho: laughed until i saw the last msg :/

newt: 😑

y/n: ok youre the perverts

minho: cant you take your prozac and turn back to normal now

y/n: so you DO know what it is..

gally: wym 'back to normal' like there was smth before this??

y/n: real i been like this for life

tommy: i got whopper and two large fries and mozzarella sticks

newt: wow

y/n: wow just call him a fatass newt.

newt: i would never, stop

y/n: 2 large fries is kinda crazy tho

tommy: i have to get enough to share with my friend

minho

gally: surprised you have friends

tommy: yeah you are not one.

gally: RUDE?

y/n: WELL LMFAO

minho: i literally already ate also gally ur not my friend either

newt: same

alby: same

gally: well why tf am i in here

y/n: well you're my friend!

gally: great.

y/n: not with that attitude..

tommy: y/n you're ok though right??

y/n: yes tommy im fine sweetie

go eat your food

tommy: okay i wish you could share these fries with me

y/n: me too :(

minho: i don't

big back would eat em all

y/n: i actually hate you

newt

[ 11:45 am ]

newt: hey

y/n: hiii :D whats up??

newt: idk why but this feels like secretly texting you across the room at a party

y/n: actually tho

picture me giving u a look from across the room

newt: you would blow our cover immediately

i just wanted to let you know if you needed any like,, advice or something with your new medicine i'm here for you. i take the same stuff on top of lexapro

y/n: oh really?

newt: yeah i do

y/n: newt :( thank you

i am a bit nervous to start it tbh

newt: i understand, i was too

but hopefully it'll change things for the better

y/n: i hope so

i didn't realize you dealt with anxiety n stuff

newt: more than you know

you aren't the only one and you aren't alone w it

y/n: you're sweet newt, thank you

newt: don't mention it :))

sorry the smiley was creepy

y/n: lmao no i like it

if you need to talk or anything too i’m always here

newt: yeah?

y/n: of course ): you’re my pookie

newt: one day you gotta let go of that word lmao

y/n: but you love it tho

newt: you tell yourself that

actually are you free rn?

y/n: yeah! i’m just about home what’s up?

newt: i’m bored so pick up the phone

y/n: NEWT LMAO

ok fine 😒

193 notes · View notes

kitchen-spoon · 4 months

Text

Steve needs glasses

1989: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Max all live in Chicago together. Steddie and Ronance are in Established relationships and live together in apartments near each other. Max just moved to the city for university and Lives on Campus.

Before they all lived together Max figures out they are dating first and see’s Steve in glasses first because she cut herself pretty bad and was home alone. She goes to Eddie’s for help. He takes her to the kitchen and is cleaning her up when Steve walks out in his underwear covered in hickies with his glasses on asking what is going on.

Eddie is a mechanic. His style has changed a lot because of his job, he needs to dress more practical now. The few things he doesn’t give up are his septum and bridge piercings and his rings. He routinely takes them off and on everyday before and after work. Mostly he wears homemade muscle tank tops he cut himself that show his ribs made from band t-shirts. He wears work boots often now too. His hair is usually tied back into a ponytail and he uses his bandana to keep his bangs away from his face. His usual uniform also involves navy Carhartt overalls.

Steve works at a diner. On Wednesday nights he closes so Eddie, Robin, Nancy and max all come in after close and eat the leftover food that was going to be tossed. Nancy doesn't come often because she usually has work the next day and can't stay up late so, Eddie and Robin deffer to Max for Stories about Steve when he first started dealing with the upside down.

Eddie’s suspicion about Steve needing glasses starts right before they get togther. At first it was because of how much Robin brought it up but he just chalked it up to their weird wonder twins friendship. when He really notices though is when they go to a college party thanks to Nancy and Steve spills his drink trying to pour it in the cup while sober.

Eddie gets his suspissions confirmed when he gets Steve to admit he has trouble seeing one night. They are in the garage together, Steve is ‘helping’ by passing Eddie tools. He asks Steve to pass him a specific sized ratchet and Steve passes him the wrong size Twice. Eddie just straight up asks if Steve has trouble seeing but, Steve gets defensive and is like ‘alright asshole I get it I’m not handy jesus.” But Eddie calms him down, apologizes and asks again letting Steve know he is serious. He mentions the party and other things (squinting at the remote when he puts on movies, always clips the corner in the hallway going into the washroom.) And Steve finally relents and admits "maybe I’ve been having problems for the last year." Eddie freaks out, "like year?! Jesus Steve you need to go to an eye doctor. Seriously." and convinces him somehow.

They go. Steve’s head injuries / concussions have weakened his right eye. He has Amblyopia or a lazy eye. His brain has a disconnect and can’t recognize sight from his right eye as well. He’ll have to get glasses and wear an eyepatch. (which he only wears around Eddie) They make another appointment so he can get tests done and they can get his prescription.

Once they leave the eye office Steve makes Eddie swear not to tell anyone about anything. They talk about how needing glasses makes Steve feel weak and less useful, how he won't be able to protect the kids as well anymore and they won't trust him to keep them safe. He also worries about how they'll make him look because he knows he is stupid so all he has left going for him is his looks which will be ruined by the glasses. Eddie sits and listens and then talks Steve through all his worries, especially the ones abut his looks. Its how they have their first kiss and subsequently start dating.

After that Eddie takes Steve to all his appointments and they have little dates after to feel better. For one appointment Steve has to have his eyes dilated so Eddie really does have to come. It's on a Monday so Eddie has to come in his workboots, coveralls, and bandana right after work. Steve gets his eyes dilated and Eddie helps guide him around. They go to the cafeteria while they wait and have milk and cookies because that is all that is left. Eddie soaks the cookie bits for Steve and feeds him. Eddie laughs and says it’s what Steve looks like when he is stoned

When Steve gets his glasses and hangs out with Robin, Nancy and Max for the first time Eddie goes in first and is like don’t say anything or he’ll never wear them again and be blind by the time he’s 40.

128 notes · View notes

wooahaes · 6 months

Text

sweet like caramel

pairing: non-idol!hoshi x gn!reader [reader has a uterus]

genre: comfort fic. fluffy.

word count: 0.8k~

warnings: READER HAS A UTERUS BUT IS NOT REFERRED TO W GENDERED TERMS. menstruation tw because this is period comfort. references to bad cramps and pain medicine not helping much, etc. food mentions (sweets + vague Chinese takeout reference). bonus mention cheol being a dependable friend for soonyoung.

daisy’s notes: i die

Soonyoung prided himself on being a good boyfriend. He was there for you when you needed emotional comfort, he had a running list on his phone of all your favorite things (just to back him up when his memory failed him), and he knew the quickest way to get a smile from you when you needed cheering up. Except that last one was... a little harder when you were, as you put it, fucking dying again. He'd stood in the pharmacy for you, waiting for the lady behind the counter to put your birth control in its bag, and he'd silently placed one of your favorite chocolate bars on the counter.

Followed by another. And a bag of sour candy. And a bag of those caramels you love. And... And he was going to get carried away, wasn't he?

"Your partner is lucky, hm?" The lady behind the counter hid a smile as she stapled the bag shut with the receipt and prescription information stuck to it as well.

He always said that he was the lucky one. If all he needed to do during your period was comfort you and take care of you, then he'd do it in a heartbeat. He loved you, after all. That was why he'd already mapped out his path home. He'd tuck the haul (yes, haul, because Soonyoung ended up with several things of your favorite candy... and maybe one for himself, too, since he was there) into his bag, and made his way to the grocery store--just to pick up a few necessities. Then it was a quick trip by the Chinese takeout place that you'd cutely requested, and then home...

To where he found you sobbing on the bathroom floor. He was quick to set things down in the kitchen before returning to you, already kneeling down next to you. "What's wrong? Did you fall? Did something happen? Are you feeling sick again? Are--"

You shook your head, leaning into him as you continued to sob. The sound was muffled by your face being buried into his chest, and all he could do was hold you, rubbing your back gently.

"Did the medicine not work?" He asked softly. You shook your head, and he just held you closer.

Okay. This was something he could fix, right? He'd pulled his phone out of his back pocket, still rubbing your back with one hand as he started searching. When medicine wasn't working, then maybe heat? The heating pad was in a drawer in the bedroom because he'd used it last after overexerting himself during a workout. You'd babied him a bit then, pressing extra kisses onto his face as you massaged the tense muscle. He paused for a moment, trying to remember if you had ginger tea in the cabinets.

He gently pushed you back. "I'll go plug in the heating pad," he promised, "and then we can cuddle in bed. Okay?"

You said nothing but curled back in on yourself, wiping at your face. Fuck, leaving you like this was the last thing he wanted to do--but he had to, didn't he? The sooner he helped you deal with the pain, the sooner you'd be a bit happier. He checked the cabinets on the way to the bedroom (no ginger tea, but that was what Seungcheol was for--all it took was a single call for him to agree to swing by a store for him and drop it off), finding the pad with ease and plugging it in. All that was left was bringing you to bed, his hand tightly around your own as he guided you there.

You'd pulled him close to you once the heating pad was in the right spot, and he didn't mind feeling the warmth from it as the two of you ended up with it sandwiched between you. All he could do was press tiny kisses against your face, one hand rubbing your back still.

"I'm sorry." Your voice was strained from sobbing, and you hid your face in his neck to muffle it even further. "I'm a mess."

"You're hurting," he said, gentle as ever. Your periods always seemed to bring out the emotional side of you, especially when they were this bad. "Just tell me what you need."

Although you said nothing, Soonyoung pulled away from you just long enough to reach for his bag--thrown haphazardly onto the end of the bed so he could snack with you here. He'd get your takeout soon enough once the pain eased off (you told him once before that it could make you nauseous and he'd never forgotten it), but... He could open the bag of caramels, pressing an unwrapped one against your lips. Your eyes flitted up to meet his, and he saw the tiny smile you had before accepting the sweet.

It was sweeter when he tasted it on your lips later, short and gentle, as you murmured your thanks and a tender "I love you."

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung x you #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you #no taglist im in too much pain rn when will my medicine kick in at least a LITTLE BIT!!!

66 notes · View notes

shortstrawberry · 9 months

Text

This line stays in my head rent free. So here's sexy doctor Bela Dimiterescu headcannons.

You have been suffering with knee pain as of late. And headaches. And a constantly clogged nose. Okay fine, your body is doing shit right now. So you find yourself at your most hated place: the hospital.

Last time you visited a hospital, you had to deal with a middle aged dude drolling away his prescription at you. Thankfully this time, you got a young and daresay beautiful doctor, Dr. Bela Dimiterescu.

Unfortunately, Dr Dimiterescu was as mean as she was beautiful. She proceeded to scold you for ten minutes for your lack of vegetables in diet. Hey, it's not your fault vegetables suck. She also proceeded to scold you for drinking only 2 glasses of water per day.

"But I drink 2 big glasses!!"

"Not enough! You need 2 LITRES to live a functional life! God, I don't even want to imagine the smell of your toilet!"

That was a low blow. You'll let it go though. Only because she is such a beautiful blondie.

Dr Bela handed you a two page long prescription, mostly filled with supplements and diet regime instructions. She also insisted that you give her biweekly visits for the next 6 months so she can "monitor" your progress.

"Monitor me, huh? You don't need to invite me to hospital for that, Doc."

You were expectedly kicked out of her cabin for that.

Nevertheless, like a devoted patient, you visited her without fail for the next three months. In the first month, you noticed that Dr Bela barely has any food herself. Being a doctor is hard, considering hospitals often run understaffed. Not to mention, Dr Bela has a habit of taking on work upon herself so that her juniors and colleagues can take a break. Who knew such a hardass can be such a softie?

So for your next visit, you make sure you bring a packed lunch for your favourite blonde doctor. This time, you were the hardass one and refused to be kicked out until she finishes the food that you cooked for her. You know you make a mean adobo, and seeing her moaning reaction at the first bite (hot), you know she agrees.

After this first time success, your audacity to keep Dr Bela Dimiterescu well-fed quadrapled. You visited the hospital again next day but this time dropped the lunch to Dr Bela's nurse. Next day you visited again with lunch and asked the nurse if your favourite doctor ate the lunch or threw it away. Your heart glowed when the nurse said Dr Bela ate the lunch with the grumpiest smile on her face.

In your next visit to Dr Bela, the blonde snappingly asked you to deliver the lunch to her personally if you're so insistent on this "useless endeavour". You wanted to digress about the useless part, seeing how Dr Bela seemed to be less pale then before. But you let it go. You tease the blonde too much and she'll make your next blood test painful.

(She never does. Dr Bela always holds your hand gently when she draws out blood)

In the third month, you find Dr Bela absent in the hospital for your appointment. You get to know that she is visiting her family back in Romania and won't be back until your next biweekly check-in. Disheartened, you turn to walk away, but the nurse has already called in a substitute for you. The replacement doctor was was polite and appreciated your efforts to stay healthy. But it hurts when the new doctor drew out blood.

Next appointment you dutifully show up again, excited to see your grumpy doctor. However, today Dr Bela was decidedly more grumpy then ever. Her jaw was tight and her fists clenched, as if someone has taken away her morning coffee.

"Did you see another doctor last week?!"

You could only blink owlishly at her, nodding in yes. What else are you supposed to say to your regular doctor who is decidedly jealous? Even when you try to explain that hey, "you were not present that time", the blonde doctor snapped even more at you.

"Doesn't matter! Damnit, you could have called me! We could have done a virtual check! You have my number, don't you? You didn't call me, not even once!"

"Wait, I'm allowed to call you?"

"Of course you are! Why else did I give you my personal number for!"

Oh. You did wonder why Dr Bela didn't give you her professional card. Now it makes sense. And now you suddenly feel like a idiot. Thankfully, Dr Bela just rolled her eyes at you, called you a idiot, and demanded to know if you're free this weekend.

Suffice to say, from now on you both have regular checkups outside the hospital.

Got any ideas you want me to write on? Just drop me a request and I'll write it!

(Also a Donna fanfic is in works. Yes, it's the Professor one!)

#resident lover #requests open #donna beneviento #bela dimitrescu #mother miranda #anons welcome #resident evil village #sexy doctor bela

143 notes · View notes

ashthewaterghoul · 18 days

Text

Body & Mind - A Phantom Ghoul One Shot

So Swiss, ever the caring partner, took Phantom’s plate of food and gently knocked on their door. No response came so Swiss tried the handle and found it unlocked. He had just intended on dropping the food by Phantom’s bedside for whenever they woke up but the sight of the little Bug broke Swiss’ heart. They were curled up so small and hidden under many blankets with their back to the door. They had an extremely large plain black hoodie on that Swiss knew had been dubbed their ‘dysphoria hoodie’. Swiss walked around the nest and saw Phantom was awake, staring at nothing while tears rolled down their face. Or, Phantom is feeling dysphoric, and Swiss helps.

Words: 1925

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Phantom/Rain, Phantom/Swiss

Tags: Gender dysphoria, hurt/comfort, fluff, they/them Phantom, he/they Rain, transmasc Phantom and Rain, HRT, chest binding, Aether pops up for a second too, and transmasc Dew mention, author is projecting, implied polyghouls.

Warnings: Period talk/period-induced dysphoria, a lil mention of slightly unsafe binding practices and a tiny bit of medical language as Phantom talks about their HRT and their issues with it.

Terms used for Phantom and Rain’s anatomy - Chest and tissue.

~~~

It was about halfway through the day when Swiss realised he hadn’t seen Phantom yet. The little Bat had been exhausted after getting back from their first tour and Swiss had taken up a few of their duties so they could rest. They both usually at least still saw each other at breakfast, if not lunch. But when Swiss saw the still-full plate by Phantom’s seat at the table, he knew something was up.

A quick question to Aurora told Swiss that they hadn’t left their room at all yet and she assumed they were just sleeping in. Not even Phantom’s neighbours, Rain and Cirrus, had heard anything from within the room. So Swiss, ever the caring partner, took Phantom’s plate of food and gently knocked on their door. No response came so Swiss tried the handle and found it unlocked. He had just intended on dropping the food by Phantom’s bedside for whenever they woke up but the sight of the little Bug broke Swiss’ heart.

They were curled up so small and hidden under many blankets with their back to the door. They had an extremely large plain black hoodie on that Swiss knew had been dubbed their ‘dysphoria hoodie’. Swiss walked around the nest and saw Phantom was awake, staring at nothing while tears rolled down their face.

“Buggy?” Swiss whispered, and Phantom’s violet eyes met his golds.

“Hi.” Phantom said quietly.

“Bad dysphoria day?” Swiss assumed by the hoodie but just wanted confirmation, which he got when Phantom nodded, “I’m sorry, baby.”

Phantom shrugged, “‘s not your fault.”

“I know, but I hate seeing you like this.” Swiss let out a deep breath, “Can I touch you? Do you want a cuddle?”

“Please.” Phantom said, and Swiss wasted no time in climbing into the nest and bringing Phantom’s head to rest against his chest while he laid on his back.

Read below the cut or on ao3

“Has anything brought this on or is it just one of those days? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Swiss said.

They groaned, “My period’s coming soon, my chest is sore so I can’t bind, and loads of people online are calling me ‘he’ and some even saying ‘she’. I know the public don’t know, but it still bothers me.” Phantom said.

“A bit of a downside to the masks and anonymity, I guess, but Frater can find a way to get everyone to know your pronouns, I’m sure.” Swiss said, taking a breath before going onto the next point, knowing Phantom needed logic for their addled brain that wouldn’t be able to find solutions for itself, “Your T hasn’t stopped your period yet?”

Phantom shook their head.

“Have you told Aether? He’s managing your prescription, right?”

“Hoped it would just go away.” Phantom sniffled.

“Okay, well, how about you tell him? When Dew started his T he had to get an extra shot to stop his period. I’m sure Aeth would do the same for you.” Swiss said.

“Maybe.” Phantom said.

“You can ask when you feel more yourself maybe, yeah?” Swiss said and Phantom nodded, “You said your chest is sore?”

“Always happens with my period.” Phantom said.

“How much have you been binding recently?” Swiss asked.

“Like, 8 or 9 hours every day?”

“When was the last time you took a day off?”

Phantom went still and blinked rapidly as they tried to remember.

“Buggy, it won’t help if you’re too sore to bind. You need binder breaks.”

“I know! I just hate how I look without it. I know I don’t have a lot going on up here,” They gestured vaguely to their chest, “but knowing it’s there makes me feel like a freak.”

“I think it’s well established that I’m the freak in this pack.” Swiss said, and smiled at the little laugh it drew from Phantom, “Have you ever tried transtape?”

“No, what’s that?” Phantom asked.

“It’s the stuff Rain uses. Kinda like KT tape but it’s for your chest. You can wear it longer than you can a binder and safely too.”

“Will it make me flat?” Phantom asked.

“Less than your binder, probably, but it will still leave you pretty flat, yeah.” Swiss said, going off what he knew from Rain’s own chest.

“Do you think Rain would mind?” Phantom asked.

“He gave you his old binder, I’m sure they wouldn’t.”

Phantom nodded and snuggled their head further into Swiss’ chest, “Can we just cuddle for a bit longer? When do you have to go back?”

Swiss angled for his phone and checked the schedule, “Really I should be going back in about half an hour, but I can delay until tomorrow.”

“What? No.” Phantom moved to their elbows to look at Swiss, “You’ll get in trouble, you can’t!”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass. You’re more important.” Swiss said, kissing the top of Phantom’s head and guiding them back down to cuddle.

“It’ll make me feel bad.” Phantom muttered.

“Well don’t. I’m a grown Ghoul, I can make my own decisions. And I decide to stay with my sexy little bat.”

“I don’t feel sexy right now.” Phantom said.

“You’re always sexy to me.”

“Sure.” Phantom said.

“What? You are. You’re the most sexy little thing I’ve ever seen.”

“What about Rory?”

“She’s pretty.”

“Dew?”

“He’s hot.”

“Rain?”

“Handsome.”

“You really think I’m sexy with my face full of snot?” Phantom laughed slightly.

“Like I said before, I’m the freak of this pack.” Swiss wore his trademark grin as he spoke.

“Don’t I know it?” Phantom said, their eye-roll practically audible.

Swiss laughed and kissed Phantom head once more before snuggling into an easy silence, each rumbling out their own purrs as they got comfy. Phantom also started making biscuits against Swiss, kneading along the plump of his tummy. It was a behaviour that never had any sexual motivation behind it for Phantom, and it certainly took some getting used to for the Ghouls when the little Bat first started doing it, but they had all come to love it because it meant Phantom felt safe and secure.

Swiss was sure he’d fallen asleep at some point as they stayed huddled in the dark room, the food long forgotten. But at some point, the silence broke.

“Thank you.” Phantom said.

“For what, Bat?” Swiss asked.

“For helping me see a bit of logic. I hate my dysphoria.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’ll always want to help you.” Swiss kissed Phantom’s forehead.

They stayed cuddled for even longer until Rain knocked saying it was time for dinner, and with consent from Phantom, Swiss called Rain in and explained the binder situation. Rain preferred transtape because he could swim with it and it didn’t press against his gills like a binder did. They had rolls of it in their room, all different colours and sizes and soon had Phantom picking out a roll of purple.

Phantom wanted Swiss to stay with them and they kept their eyes shut as they took their hoodie off, and Rain measured out strips of the tape. Swiss was whispering little reassurances the whole time of how amazing they looked, how well they were doing, how flat their chest looked as Rain fixed the strips over their tissue. Phantom felt tears pricking their eyes from the praise.

“And done.” Rain said as they laid the last piece and threw away the backing, “Do you want to look at it or just put your hoodie back on?”

Phantom thought about it for a minute, and slowly cracked each eye open. Rain was stood in front of them, blocking the mirror, and also was shirtless revealing his own blue tape. Rain’s chest was similar to Phantom’s, if a bit bigger so Phantom looked at Rain as an estimate for how they looked.

“C- can I look?” Phantom asked.

“You don’t need my permission.” Rain smiled, “I’ll move out the way on a count of three, okay? You tell me when.”

Phantom looked to Swiss who was beaming in pride for the little Quint, “So handsome.” He muttered and Phantom blushed.

They nodded to Rain and they counted, “1… 2… 3…”

Phantom’s face remained neutral as they took their chest in. They could still see a bit of the shape of their tissue but they think they could manage it. Rain always looked flat under his t-shirts and so Phantom assumed they would be the same.

“So, you can leave it on for up to three days.” Rain started explaining, “You can leave it on in the shower and everything too. When you take it off though you need to apply something to the area so the adhesive comes off and doesn’t start breaking your skin. If your skin starts getting agitated or damaged at any point, go to Aether. He’s helped me out a lot with it.”

Phantom nodded, “W- will you help? When I have to take it off?”

“Of course, Bug.” Rain came over and stood behind Phantom, chin on their shoulder and looking at them in the mirror. Between that and Swiss still standing nearby staring, Phantom felt themself blushing again and buried their face in their hands.

“So handsome indeed.” Rain said, putting a small kiss to Phantom’s neck before pulling back, “You want your hoodie back on?”

Phantom nodded and Rain helped it over their arms and head. They looked at their side profile in the mirror and smiled wide when they looked completely flat, finding they couldn’t stop running a hand over the fabric to smooth it and couldn’t tear their eyes away from their reflection.

“Come on, Narcissus.” Swiss smiled, “I’m hungry and you’re about to become my dinner if we don’t get moving.”

“Hey! What about me?” Rain mock-protested.

“You’d be dessert.” Swiss assured as he held his hand out for Phantom and Rain.

“That’s acceptable.” Rain said, placing a small kiss on Swiss’ lips before the Multi guided the three of them out to the dining room where everyone else had already started tucking in.

After they’d finished eating Swiss and Rain got up to leave but Phantom stayed behind. Aether was on pot-washing duty tonight and Phantom saw a good opportunity.

“Hey, Aeth, can I ask you a question about my hormones?”

“Yeah, of course. What’s up?” He asked putting down the plate he was washing and giving Phantom his full attention.

“Sh- should my period have stopped by now?” Phantom asked in a hushed voice.

“Hmm, how long have you been on T now? 5 months?”

“Yeah, 6 in a week and a half.”

“When’s your next period due?”

“In a few days.”

“It should have stopped by now, probably. I can’t do anything about this month, but after it’s done come to my office. I can get you started on these sort of booster shots that should stop it, if you want?” Aether said, work voice on despite it being out-of-office hours.

Phantom smiled and nodded, “Thank you, Aeth.”

“Of course, it’s my job and you’re pack. Not gonna leave you out to dry. Any other issues with your T or…?”

“Nope. All good.” Phantom smiled, giving Aether a hug before running back to Swiss’ room.

In the embraces of the Multi and Water Ghouls, Phantom couldn’t stop purring and kneading along their bodies. The two older Ghouls made Phantom feel loved and very handsome indeed. And with some headway to solving a couple more things with their dysphoria, they smiled at maybe having a life free from that dreadful weight.

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost ghouls #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #ao3 #one shot #ghost band fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost ghouls fanfic #gender dysphoria #transmasc phantom ghoul #transmasc rain ghoul #implied polyghouls #hurt/comfort #fluff

36 notes · View notes

jomiddlemarch · 5 months

Text

And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds

Walter had died a week ago and Gilbert didn’t want to go home. He sat at his desk and pretended to himself there was another prescription to write or that he’d told John Campbell to call round when he could, there might be something Gilbert could do for his bad hip, something he’d seen in a medical journal, the receipt for a liniment that truly was better than the salve old Mrs. Thelma Morrison stirred up of an evening, more efficacious and less likely to advertise his arrival with the rank scent of ramps crushed in tallow.

It was a lie.

There was no work yet to be done that would keep him, unless there was some queer version of mercy at play that would deliver a fisherman with a hook deep in his palm, calling for finesse and patience, the lamp lit against the dark.

It was quiet, the voices in the harbor hushed or still, and there was nothing more for him to do but admit the truth.

He simply didn’t want to go home.

It was not that the house would be empty, though that would be its own grief he knew. To go home to Ingleside and find no lamp lit against the dusk, no Anne on the sofa with a basket of mending and a book marked with a frayed scrap of ribbon, no Susan banging about in the kitchen, no Rilla dandling Jims on her knee, cheeks pink with a self-righteous spite as she complained about her Junior Reds, so much like her mother had been at the same age. The rooms all too big, the silence too loud.

And agony and yet, a surcease.

The house was full. Anne and her suffering, her grey eyes dark, her hair dressed very simply, beyond any attempt at vanity, drifted from the sitting room to their bedroom, aimless or beyond settling. Susan, cooking up whatever she thought might tempt one of them to take more than a few bites, catching herself about to mention Walter every third sentence, Miss Cornelia coming by with a basket of baked goods Gilbert would bring on his rounds to prevent wasting the food that no one in the house would eat. Rilla with her sisters, Nan and Di home from the college, all three reminding Gilbert of nothing more than a wilted nosegay, Nan and Rilla’s eyes reddened from weeping, Di’s lips bitten, chapped, her bright hair bundled back in an old-fashioned snood she’d have previously mocked in amused derision, the littlest Meredith girl sitting beside them, too thin, too pale. She’d been in love with Walter, that was clear now, and it was no longer charming or worth shaking his head over ruefully.

So many broken hearts. None he could fix.

Jem didn’t know yet, nor Shirley. He and Anne had agreed not to cable or write either of them. There was nothing they could do but grieve for their brother but that grief might be a distraction they could ill afford. The girls hadn’t argued as he’d expected and it was Rilla who’d spoken up, saying Let him be alive a little longer then while Nan crumpled up the letter she’d been writing to Jerry Meredith.

She would have been telling him about Walter. She wouldn’t risk him, nor the rare chance that he’d come across Shirley or Jem and mention Walter’s death. It was impossible to think Jerry would simply run into Jem in the trenches, except that stranger things had happened and Walter, his inquisitive little boy with his mother’s eyes, had been lost to them. His name on a telegram was all they’d get unless some officer in his battalion had the wherewithal to pack up his few remaining personal belongings and send them back to Ingleside on a ship that didn’t get sunk crossing the Atlantic.

Impossible.

Real.

His office was a place of relative respite. Walter had spent little time there, not interested in doctoring, not like Jem or Di, and so he couldn’t haunt it. There were charts to review and journals to leaf through, and no one came who wanted him to be anything else other than Doctor Blythe.

Not Dad. Not Gil dear.

His own parents, thank God, were dead. Marilla too and Mrs. Rachel.

The clock ticked. He’d have to leave soon enough.

The face that peered in through the door after the briefest, smartest rap, was not one he’d have ever expected.

“I was sent to fetch you, but we can go the long way back,” Mary Vance said. In the failing light of evening, her queer, pale eyes gleamed like the stones he’d liked to skip across Willowmere when he’d idled on the way home from Green Gables. There was a sturdiness to her shoulders and the set of her chin that had become reassuring to a man who now lived in a house of wraiths. She was twenty-three, just a year younger than Jem, a woman grown and not a girl, though she’d no pretense to vanity in her person or tone. Practical and imperturbable, she was one of the few people he could think of he needn’t take care of.

“Mrs. Blythe sent you?” he asked. He tried not to hope Anne had worried enough to speak of it.

“Mrs. Elliott,” Mary shrugged. She knew he would be disappointed, but she wouldn’t lie. “Said you’d soon be needing a doctor yourself if you missed your supper and she doesn’t think highly of Susan’s fish pie in any case.”

“Fish pie,” Gilbert repeated, getting up from his chair and reaching for his overcoat. He ought to be made of sterner stuff, the autumn only just beginning, but he’d been cold at the marrow since he’d learned of his son’s death.

“Mackerel. Had a good catch, down at the cove. I s’pose old Susan thought as long as it was pie, you’d like it,” Mary replied. She smiled, not coaxing but wry, suddenly reminded him of his mother. Neither was much given to effusiveness or cossetting.

“Susan’s not old and it’s not kind to say it,” Gilbert said.

“But it’s not too rude to hear it,” Mary countered. “She was born old, Miss Baker, and if you told her that, she’d be proud of it.”

He laughed then, a startled, almost choked sound he hadn’t known he was capable of, but she’d been so apt and so matter-of-fact…

“You’re quite observant, you’d make a good doctor,” he said.

“Maybe. Not for the likes of me, all that education. And I’m too blunt,” she replied.

“A nurse then,” Gilbert said.

“The War won’t last forever,” she said. “When it’s over, it won’t all be an agony. Sickbeds and wounds to be stitched. There’ll be other lives to live. Work to do. Dreams, for the ones who put stock in such things.”

“Not for everyone,” he said. His boy, gone away, his voice silenced. It hurt worse than little Joy, who’d never asked just one more question, Papa, at bedtime, before Jem had convinced him to call Gil Dad or Father, who’d never made him notice the dappled light of the woods or made him laugh calming Rilla down from her rage at being called Spider.

“No,” Mary said and Gilbert braced himself for the consolation. The balance. Walter died with honor. He’d had his poem read round the world. He’d made his peace with it.

It happened. People died young.

Ruby Gillis.

Kenneth West.

Captain Jim’s lost Margaret.

Walter Blythe.

“Mrs. Elliott will have my hide if I don’t get you back before she leaves and Marshall gets antsy left to his own devices,” Mary said. She pulled a very large, very clean white handkerchief from the pocket of her coat and handed it to him. “But we can still take the long way back. I’ll manage the driving.”

“Marigold needs a light hand,” Gilbert said.

“I’ll manage, Doctor Blythe. You needn’t worry about me,” Mary said. She gave him another sharp look. “I’ll take the hankie back before we’re at Ingleside. Mrs. Blythe and old Susan won’t be bothered. And Rilla’s war-baby said a half-dozen new words today, so they’re in decent spirits. It’s just the pie you’ve got to choke down.”

#aogg #anne of green gables #gilbert blythe #rilla of ingleside #walter blythe #grief #father and son #mary vance #not a lot of space left for Gilbert in canon #gilbert's love of pie #gilbert/anne #the blythe family #POV gilbert blythe #angst #comfort from unexpected places #aogg fanfic #anne x gilbert #2024 is the Year of Mary Vance it would seem

45 notes · View notes

whiskey-bumblebee · 2 years

Text

I'm On Fire (Chapter 2)

Pairing: DBF!Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Word Count: 2470

Warnings: older Hotch/younger reader, cheating, daddy issues, a little bit of angst

Taglist: @littlepeanut03 @rosaline-black @moonmark98 @yuly @jazzymariexoxoc @frogoko @morgthemagpie

You're staring at the kitchen sink, a full glass of water on the counter to your left. Alone again. It's been days since you've seen your dad.

You let your head rest in your hands as you prop your elbows up on the counter. Aaron had left his number in your phone when he dropped you back home after your late night drive. You were using every ounce of strength not to call him.

It had been a week or so since that night, or morning, you supposed, since you'd watched the sun rise together, when you teased him for his Spartan taste in coffee and breakfast food. You hadn't heard anything, and you were starting to think it must have meant nothing to him. You were nothing but his friend's daughter. Another thing to take care of, like the unmown grass, or filing taxes.

Despite how little you seemed to mean to him, you couldn't stop replaying your conversations in your mind. Although you'd been sleeping for much of the time, when you were awake, you'd talked about everything. He'd opened up about Haley, the way that their marriage was slowly disintegrating because of their different goals, his difficult work schedule. He'd hesitated before telling you another piece, unsure if it was even appropriate to mention it to you.

"She's started..." He sighed. "She's started trying to tamper with the birth control we use. She hasn't refilled her prescription for the pill in a while and..."

He turned away from you as much as he could, fixing his gaze on something on the left of the horizon. His voice dropped to a low whisper.

"The other night when we were... You know what I mean. She tried to pull off the condom. A week ago I was looking in my bedside table for one of my watches, and the condoms were all over the place. The drawer was sticky, so I picked up one of them," He paused again. "It had a hole in it. I thought okay, leak, I'll just throw this one out. But I looked at one of the others, just in case, and..."

"Oh my god," You said softly. "Aaron, that's not okay. If someone I was dating did something like that..."

You felt your jaw clench. How fucking awful was that? Trying to trap him with a baby? It was one thing to try and convince him, to try and save their marriage, to talk about why he was hesitant, but it was a different thing entirely to start taking matters into her own hands. It would obliterate the last of the trust between them. It was sick.

He'd talked a little about his college years, but his playful smile told you there was a lot he was holding back.

"C'mon, Seattle in the 90s? You must have gotten up to no good," You said, trying to eke out some information. "Concerts, weed, girls?"

"I focused on studying," He said, and pressed his lips together.

"You're lying again. That's one of your tells," You pointed at his lips. "You go like this."

You mimicked his expression, the physical manifestation of withholding information or some emotion.

He looked over at you and laughed. "You'd make a good profiler."

"Profiling," You said dreamily. "And you get to travel all over the place. What's it like?"

"It's hard work," He said slowly. "A lot of the time it's unpleasant. But I like to think we make a difference."

"Could you profile me?"

He looked over at you, his expression serious.

"It's not like astrology, or palm-reading" He said. "You might not like what I have to say."

"I won't hold it against you," You replied. "I'm sure none of it will really be new to me. I spend a lot of time thinking about who I am and how I got here."

"You're independent, probably more than you should be, but that says more about your father than it does about you." He paused, taking a breath, and looked over at you again, sadness in his eyes this time. "You're constantly reading the people around you, or at least me, trying to figure out what they're thinking."

You nodded. "It's not just you."

He pulled into the drive through, joining the long line of cars queuing for their morning coffee. For a moment, you thought about how the two of you must look to anyone who took a second to look through the windscreen or one of the windows. You, in a salt-starched button up shirt. Aaron, in a faded blue t-shirt and the joggers you'd been wearing a few hours before. A strange pair of lovers, or maybe just a strange pair.

"The reason you read everyone is because you use it as a pre-emptive defense mechanism. If you know how everyone is feeling, you can adjust your behaviour to avoid making anyone upset."

"Oh," You said. "So that makes me... a psychopath, or something?"

Aaron chuckled and shook his head, looking at you properly now that the car was safely stopped. "No. It makes you like a lot of other women."

"Oh," You said again, somehow feeling even more dejected. "Just ordinary."

He shook his head, reaching across the centre console to wipe some salt from your cheek. "You're far from ordinary."

"Next in line," Came the staticky voice from the speaker. "How can I help you?"

"What do you want?" He whispered.

"Something sweet," You replied. "And a bagel."

He relayed the information to the disembodied voice.

"Is that all?"

"No, could I also get a black coffee? No cream, no sugar, and do you have a bacon and egg sandwich?"

"Sure. Drive up to the next window."

"Thank you," Aaron replied, shooting you a conspiratorial smile. Why did you feel like you were getting away with something?

"Mr. Bacon and Egg," You teased.

"What?" He replied, reaching for his wallet. "Nothing wrong with the classics."

There was a knock at your door, and you jumped. Your dad?

You took a big sip of water before making your way to the door, then peered through one of the little glass windows to see who it was. With a sigh of relief, you undid the deadbolt. Aaron.

"Is your dad home?" He looked you up and down, but there was no hunger in it.

Your brow furrowed. "No."

"We need to talk," He said, letting himself in, locking the door.

Your stomach dropped through the floor. Here it comes. He's going to tell me that I've been coming onto him and it needs to stop. Head heavy with shame, you let your body fall to the couch and looked down at the rug. He's married, how did you think this was going to end?

"Haley's leaving me."

You looked at him, waiting for the next sentence. None came.

"Aaron," You breathed. "I'm so sorry."

"I went for a drive," He said. "To the beach. In Delaware."

There was a long silence, and he walked to the kitchen and back, bringing you the glass of water you'd abandoned.

You took another sip, looking down at the floor again.

"I..." He took a seat beside you.

You looked at him, searching his face.

"I can't read you," You said softly. "You need to tell me."

He looked deep into your eyes, no doubt seeing the feelings you had for him. You couldn't put words to them yet, but you had a feeling your eyes were telling a story your heart hadn't yet been able to commit to. "I didn't like the beach."

Agony tearing through you, you broke the eye contact, rubbing your face with one of your hands. What had you expected?

He took your hand in his, pulling it from your face. His grip was rough, but it was nothing compared to the confusion and pain radiating through your body.

"No," He said insistently. "I didn't like the beach because... It wasn't the beach. It was you."

You looked at him hopefully, praying to every god whose name you'd ever learned that your heart was right to start beating wildly, full of anticipation.

He whispered your name, his hand coming to the side of your face as the space between you seemed to shrink.

"Haley wouldn't mind," You whispered.

"She wouldn't," He replied, his face close enough to yours that certain syllables sent his lips brushing against yours. He rubbed his nose against yours, waiting to be seized by a sudden rush of morality. It didn't come.

You closed the gap between you, taking his chin between your thumb and forefinger, sealing your lips to his. For a moment you stayed like that, just pressing your lips together, not moving, hardly breathing.

Then it was like lightning- his lips moving against yours, his weight starting to shift on top of your body as you slipped beneath him, your hands moving to cup his back, hips dropping open to accommodate his body in this new position. The harsh noises of your breathing between frantic kisses, the wet sound as your tongue just barely left your mouth, tracing over his lips. A thud as his hand met the arm of the couch, supporting his weight. And if that all was lightning, the electric lick of light across a bright sky, the rest was apocalypse, the hounds of hell breaking loose as your bodies settled against each other, his tongue snaking across your lips, testing the seam of them, whether you'd let him in. You tugged his bottom lip between your teeth, running your tongue across the slightly swollen skin as you released his lip.

You settled into a rhythmic tempo, swaying against each other like the waves on the shore, the push and the pull like something divinely inspired, driven by the moon, something of a greater magnitude than mere magnetism. Something like gravity.

When you broke away, it was all changed. Even from this distance, hardly an inch away from him, you knew the world had tilted on its axis. You became aware of the sound of children playing outside, the ring of a bicycle's bell. You were certain that if you walked outside, you'd see them riding their bicycles straight into the sky, or the birds would be flying upside down. The warmth of the sun would radiate from the ground, and the tickle of the grass would rain down on you.

Your eyelashes seemed like monuments as you blinked slowly, attempting to clear your vision. When you opened your eyes, nothing had changed. There he was. There you were.

The sun warmed your bare skin as you curled into Aaron's chest. Something about the kiss had been draining, as beautiful as it was, and you'd led him upstairs to rest. He traced shapes on your back.

"That was intense," He said, finally.

"I'm tired," You said, suddenly feeling like you might cry.

"I shouldn't stay."

You tilted your head to look up at him, taking a moment to appreciate the way that he looked in your bed, his short dark hair contrasting with your cream-coloured pillow.

"You could," You said.

He shook his head.

"I thought you said Haley left?"

He nodded. "She did. But your dad could come back any minute."

It was your turn to shake your head. "He won't be here until Tuesday. He stays at her place from Thursday night until Tuesday morning so they can have weekends."

"Generous definition of weekend," He scoffed. "He should take better care of you."

"He makes sure there's food when he comes. And besides, I can take care of myself."

"You shouldn't have to," He said softly, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. His voice was filled with fondness, and you broke his gaze so you could rest your head against his chest again.

"You take care of me," You whispered.

"I could," He whispered. "You deserve to know what it feels like."

There were butterflies in your stomach. You lay like that for another hour, waiting to decide what to do. There was no clear path forward, you knew that much.

"I should go," He murmured. "I have some errands to run before everything closes for the night, and work in the morning."

"What are we going to do?" You said softly, sitting upright.

He sat up too, swinging his legs out of the bed.

"What if this is it?" He replied. "The simplest thing to do would be to leave it here."

"Aaron," You said, your voice breaking. "I couldn't live."

You reached for your phone.

"Can I take a photo of us? So at least I know it wasn't a dream?"

His mind flicked to Penelope, and her incredible capacity for unearthing files from anywhere. Your phone was far from secure, and he just couldn't risk a photo like that ending up somewhere it shouldn't.

He shook his head. "It's too risky. No one should find out about this."

You sighed, looking over at the wall, the last of the day's light filling the room with light, although it was limited to a square in the shape of the window.

You took him by the chin, pulling him gently into the light.

He laughed.

"What?"

"Hell of a metaphor," He said, shaking his head with a small smile.

You raised an eyebrow at him, but he shook his head. You dropped the subject and gestured at his shadow on the wall, the silhouette of his head.

"How about this?"

You leaned into the light, leaving your silhouettes facing each other.

He nodded. "That works."

Careful not to let your phone cast a shadow, you framed the shot and looked at him while he looked at you, both of you fighting back wide smiles. Your phone clicked softly, and you checked to make sure the picture was okay. You nodded and showed it to him. He smiled and kissed your forehead, wrapping an arm around you.

"This isn't going to be easy," He said.

You took one of his hands in both of yours, and looked at him seriously. "I don't need easy. I do need you."

You both sat there for a moment, letting your words hang in the air and permeate your skin.

"God," You breathed. "I can't believe you said what if this is it? I couldn't leave things here. I'd die."

"How about this?" He said, echoing your words from earlier. You followed his gaze as he looked down at his hands. He slipped off his gold wedding ring and placed it on your bedside table.

"My promise this isn't it."

You looked at him, tears forming in your eyes, and nodded.

He took your hands in his, and pressed a kiss to them before enclosing them completely in his.

#aaron hotchner/reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #criminal minds #my writing #i'm on fire #dbf!hotch

357 notes · View notes

janicho88 · 1 year

Text

I Got You - Chapter 4

Pairing- Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female!Reader

Word count- 2,225

Warnings- Language, mentions of domestic violence, injuries, and abuse, abusive boyfriend, hurt reader, protective Jake. If I missed something, please let me know.

A/N- Before we get any further into this, there will be a few differences from the movie. Ice was sick, but beat it, the aviators are there for a six-week training, not three. I'm sure there are going to be Naval inaccuracies. This one has been sitting in my WIP since last fall. First Jake story, I hope I can do him justice. The first few chapters will be a little heavy, but we will move past that. Thank you to @slightly-psycho-multifan for beta'ing!

Summary- When you have finally reached a breaking point, you call the one person you trust for help. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, but he is the person you know you’re safest with. It’s been months since he has had so much as a text from you, but Jake Seresin would do anything for the Navy princess he met years ago. The pilot knows she means more to him than he ever will to her, but he will do anything for her.

Series Masterlist

Unsurprisingly, it’s the quickest you have fallen asleep in a long time. Sometime during the short night, you moved over closer to Jake. It’s the weight across his chest that stirs him from the little sleep he has gotten. It takes a minute for everything to register back with him, and what he felt was your casted arm moving across his chest as you curled into his side. Taking a glance at his phone on the table to check how much time he has before his alarm goes off the exhausted aviator sees 6:40 glares back at him.

He yawns as he closes his eyes once more. 6:40, okay I just have to be in the briefing room at 7, I’ve still got twenty minutes, he thinks to himself.

“Shit,” he hollers while quickly sitting up. His alarm should have gone off at 6, he must have forgotten to set it with everything else going on last night. At Least he remembered to plug in his phone.

His shout has you jerking awake and cowering away from the noise. Jake immediately feels guilty when he sees the worry in your eyes. Then he notices you holding your wrist. That was the arm you had draped over him, and he must have aggravated it when he shot up so fast.

“I’m sorry darling, I shouldn’t have done that. I forgot to set my alarm, I have to get going before I’m late.”

While he rushes into the bathroom, you sit in bed trying to calm your racing heart. He comes back out in his boxers and a black sleeveless shirt. Grabbing a green flight suit off his dresser, he starts talking to you as he stumbles into it.

“I’ve got to get to base. I’m sorry, but I don't think there’s much here for food other than what we picked up yesterday. We should get some kind of a break for lunch, I’ll grab something and bring it back for you. I’ll drop your prescriptions off then. I shut your phone off last night, just in case there was any tracking app on there. I will check it over later before you turn it back on. I’ll go grab the motrin, you might want to take one to help calm the wrist back down. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt it.”

Your brain is too foggy to quickly grasp everything he is throwing out at you. When it all catches up, you just nod.

“It’s still early, after you take some medicine, why don’t you try and get a little more sleep.”

You try to respond, but your throat is pretty sore, so you just nod.

He disappears out the door, and is back a few minutes later with pills, a bottle of water and the crackers from last night.

“You shouldn’t take these on an empty stomach. Help yourself to anything in the house. Keep the door locked, and I will be back as soon as I can alright, darlin?”

“Alright. Thanks Jake,” you whisper out. The water helps coat your throat, but time will probably be the best remedy.

There are two stop lights between Jake’s house and base, and he manages to hit them both red. Pulling in the first empty park he finds, he grabs his bag and is racing inside. There is no running inside the buildings, so he is speed walking to the locker room to throw the bag on top of the lockers. No time to mess with getting the locker open right now. Then down the hall to the briefing room.

Jake pauses before he opens the door taking a deep breath, he slips into Hangman. A mask of arrogance he has perfected over the years. Very few truly see the real Jake. Standing tall he opens the door and heads inside.

“Hangman.” Maverick calls out from the front of the room. “So good of you to join us this morning.”

Jake takes a quick inventory of available seats, and finds the only empty row is his usual spot up front. He doesn’t say anything as he walks up the aisle.

“Can you tell me the time Lieutenant?” Maverick questions.

Stopping at his seat Jake glances down at his watch. “7:05 sir.”

“Your watch works, so what is your excuse for arriving late?”

“I don’t have one sir.”

He can hear the snickers of his fellow aviators. A few of them are thrilled to see him in trouble.

“You don’t have one?”

“No sir.”

“Tardiness is not rewarded, or tolerated,” a voice from behind Jake says, “you’ll sit out the morning hop, Lieutenant.”

Hangman turns around to face his superior. “Yes sir Admiral.” Of course Cyclone had to be in here already.

Maverick picks apart their dog fights from yesterday, before telling them he expects better today. The pilots are dismissed to change into their flight gear. Jake doesn’t bother putting his on since he won’t be flying yet, then they move to the ready room. The first group is in the air when Coyote comes over.

“Man, what happened this morning.”

“I didn’t set my alarm. Won’t happen again.”

“How could you forget that?”

“Had a long night.”

“Did you even get her name this time?”

Hangman rolls his eyes at his friend, “wasn’t that kinda night.”

“Well then…”

Jake notices Rooster and Phoenix listening in, so he quickly cuts Coyote off. “Javy, could we please just let it go right now?”

“Fine.” His friend gets up and moves back over to listen to the radio.

Rooster smirks just before he opens his mouth, but Hangman is ready for him too. “Bradshaw, don’t even think about opening your mouth.”

Of course the other pilot ignores him. “The too good to be true Hangman, finally starting to fall apart?”

“I swear Chicken, if you keep talking I will…”

“You will what Hangman?” Cyclone questions walking in.

Jake closes his eyes, quickly running his hand over his face, “Nothing sir.”

“Next two should be getting ready. Hangman come with me.”

Jake follows the Admiral to his office, and stands at attention in front of Cyclone’s desk while the senior officer tears into him.

He leans forward in his chair to emphasize the end of his rant. “This mission isn’t a joke Lieutenant. If that’s the way you are going to be approaching it I should just send you back to Lemoore right now. One more toe out of line and you’re gone, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Back to the ready room, you're grounded for the day.”

“Yes, sir.”

When he returns, the second group is already in the air. He walks in taking a seat in the corner, doing his best to ignore everyone around him right now. He wouldn’t be in this mess if he just remembered to set his damn alarm.

When the last group finally lands, Maverick dismisses them for their break.

“You all have 45 minutes to grab lunch and report back to the briefing room.”

While the last group of aviators heads to the locker room to get out of their gear, Jake runs in for his phone and keys. Heading out to his truck, he is stopped by Maverick.

“Where do you think you’re going, Hangman?”

“I have to take care of something, I’ll be back before the briefing.”

“You’ve already demonstrated this morning you can’t be trusted to be on time, I don't think you should be leaving base right now.”

Hangman clenches his teeth in frustration, “is that an order sir?”

Maverick thinks it over for a minute. “Yes, it is. Get back to the mess hall.”

“Yes, sir.”

He turns around and heads back toward the building, but stops shy of going inside. So now he can’t pick you up anything, or take your prescriptions in. Worse, he doesn’t have a way to get a hold of you to tell you what’s going on.

Pacing around outside, he finally thinks of who he could ask. He’s going to owe her big for this. Picking up his phone, he hopes she answers.

“The Hard Deck.”

“Penny?”

“Yes, can I help you?”

“It’s Jake Seresin.”

“You disappeared very quickly last night. I’d ask if it was the blonde, but she was still pouting in the corner when I checked.”

“Yeah, something came up. Penny, I need a huge favor.”

“You know I’m not open yet Jake, and I can’t bring you alcohol on base. No matter how crazy Mave drives you.”

“It’s not that exactly. I was planning on running home during our lunch break, but now I’m stuck on base. There’s…a…um…I…um…have…a…friend at my place. She can’t leave right now. Is there any way you could run her over something for lunch? Just knock on the door, and tell her you know me, and I asked you to drop it off.”

“You could Doordash it from someplace. I’m not a delivery service for your hookups Seresin.”

“It’s not like that. I don’t want to send some stranger she doesn’t know coming to my house and freaking her out.”

“But you want me to go? You could call and tell her what’s going on, and you were sending her food.” Penny responds.

Too late Jake realizes that while you do know Penny, she can’t know that she knows the person staying with him.. You don’t want anyone to know you are here yet.

“I know you. Please Penny, my dear. I wouldn’t bother you if this wasn’t important. I can’t call and tell her, her phone isn’t working.”

“Fine, because I have a few errands to run anyways. You owe me Lieutenant. What does she eat?”

“I know I do. How about a turkey sandwich, no onion. Maybe a side of soup if you have it. If you just let her know it’s there and leave it on the front porch she can grab it from there whenever.”

“Alright, I’ll get this over there in a little bit.”

“Thank you so much Penny.”

After making sure Penny knows where she is taking it, Jake heads back inside. He never noticed Maverick back inside watching him through the window.

Hangman picks at his lunch, not much of an appetite even though he only grabbed a protein bar for breakfast. Coyote tries to get him to talk about this morning, but he keeps avoiding the questions.

While the aviators are back in the briefing room with Maverick, Penny is about to pull into Jake’s driveway. She decides at the last minute to go past and come back around. She parks her car on the other side of the road facing Jake’s place and walks up to the front porch.

Penny tries to peer in the windows as she moves closer to the house, but can’t see anything with the curtains pulled. This all just seems a little off to her. Once she’s outside the front door, she can faintly make out sound coming from a tv. Knocking on the door and ringing the bell, she waits for Jake’s guest to answer. After a minute or two, no one comes, but Penny can no longer hear the television.

“Hello, I’m Penny. I know Jake, or Lieutenant Serisen, he asked me to drop off some food here because he got stuck on base,” she calls out to whoever is in the house.

Curled up on the corner of Jake’s couch, you are frozen in place once the knocking starts. You mute the movie, hoping whoever it is will go away thinking no one is home. Then you hear the visitor call out and identify herself.

Your heartbeat starts to slow back down when you realize the person outside isn’t a direct threat, but you still don’t want her to know you are the one inside. Penny’s friends with your mom, so there is a chance she could tell her about seeing you. Why did Jake do this? You could have just waited for him to get home. Although your rumbling stomach disagrees, especially with the thought of something Penny made you.

A few more minutes go by, and you hear your favorite bartender call out again. “Okay, well if anyone inside can hear me. I’m going to go, but the food is sitting outside the door.”

You give it a few minutes and slowly move toward the front window and pull the curtain back slightly. There isn’t a car in the driveway, so she must be gone already. Moving toward the front door, you check out the peephole to be sure before unlocking it. Sliding onto the porch you pick up the bag in your good hand before locking yourself inside once again.

Penny is still sitting in her car, watching Jake’s front door, trying to figure out what is going on with the aviator she’s grown fond of. It has been a few minutes and she just about gave up on anyone appearing, when a woman slowly steps out the door in a too big Navy sweatshirt, and leggings. It looks like there is something on her left hand, and even from the road, Penny can make out bruises on her neck and face. It isn’t until she really looks at the face before the woman slides back in the house that she realizes she is looking at Y/N Kazansky.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 5

IGY Tags

@dempy @fox-bee926 @acarboni21 @novagreen04 @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @bethbunnyy @senjoritanana @abaker74 @mygyn @lynnevanss @m-rae23 @djs8891 @supraveng @loving-and-dreaming @mayhemmanaged @kajjaka @delightfulheroshoeflap @imaginecrushes @donna-lynn

#I Got You #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #tw dv mention #tw injury #tw abuse

134 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 1 year

Text

Lavender - Ch. 7

You realize something major just as the world ends. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-6, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 6k

Warnings: TLOU Canon-typical violence, attempted suicide, mention of sex. No use of Y/N. Overall fic is 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: Y'all, this is the outbreak chapter. Apologies in advance.

Tuesday, September 2, 2003

You’d been throwing up enough the last few days that you knew the signs. When your stomach started turning on your drive to work, you groaned.

“Goddammit,” you muttered, spotting a Walgreens on the corner. They’d have a bathroom. And maybe something you could use to kick this stupid stomach bug. You parked and all but sprinted for the bathroom, knocking once on the door before yanking it open. You barely made it to the toilet, throwing up everything you’d managed to eat that morning. Not that much sounded good. It had been a struggle finding anything worth trying to eat every day since you either got food poisoning or caught the stomach flu or whatever the hell was going on.

Once you were sure it had passed, you sat back on your heels, groaning. This was getting so old. You rinsed your mouth out in the sink and ventured down the aisles of the store, grabbing a travel container of Listerine before going to the pharmacy counter.

“Can I help you?” The cheery woman in a white coat said.

“I hope so,” you smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me but I either got some crazy food poisoning or caught some stomach bug, I’ve been doing nothing but throw up for three days. I’ve tried Pepto, I’ve tried Dramamine, I’m hoping you have another idea…”

“Could you be pregnant?” She asked, her eyebrows drawing together in a slight frown.

“No,” you laughed and then paused, doing the math.

You hadn’t had your period since June. That wasn’t super odd for you, you’d never been particularly regular. Some months it just didn’t show up. But it’s not like you’d been having tons of crazy sex since you got dumped last month… You’d just had lots of crazy sex when you’d last seen Joel seven weeks ago. Like the time in the pool the morning you flew home, where he came so deep inside you it felt almost impossible. Your hand drifted to your lower stomach.

“Pregnancy tests are on aisle eight,” she pointed, giving you a sad half smile. You just nodded, leaving the Listerine on the counter and walking in a daze for the tests. You almost blindly grabbed a pack. There was a smiling woman on the package, like that positive test was the best thing had ever happened to her. You carried it back to the pharmacy counter.

“I’m sorry,” you said, still dazed. “Can I buy these here? Even though I’m not getting a prescription?”

“No problem,” she scanned the tests and the Listerine and you paid before walking to the bathroom. You weren’t sure when you’d last blinked.

You peed on the stick, washed your hands and paced, checking your watch every few seconds as if that would make time go faster. But when the time was up, you didn’t want to pick up the test and see the result. Didn’t want to know what the answer was, like you’d rather not know a damn thing and then deal with whatever comes when it comes.

You picked up the test.

Two pink lines.

“Oh God.”

You didn’t remember driving to work. You didn’t really remember walking in, either. The first thing you were aware of was stopping at Louisa’s classroom door, poking your head in as she set up for her first class of the year.

“When’s your planning period?” You asked.

“Third,” she said. “Same as last year.”

“Good,” you said. “I’m coming by.”

“Not a great day for it,” she said absently. “I’ve got so much crap to do…”

“Louisa,” you said, pleading. She looked up at you and frowned.

“Yeah, OK,” she nodded. “See you third period.”

You were on autopilot the first two periods. You doubted you’d be able to pick any of your students out of a lineup your mind was so full of other things.

Pregnant. You were pregnant. In 15 years you’d have a kid this age. Oh God, you were going to have a kid. Were you going to have a kid? Were you going to do this alone?

You didn’t even knock on Louisa’s door at the start of third period, just letting yourself in and closing it behind you.

“So what’s so urgent?” She said, sitting at a lab table and cracking open a Diet Coke. “You look like death.”

You wordlessly pulled the Walgreens bag from your purse, getting the test out and setting it on the plastic.

“Oh fuck,” Louisa stared at it for a second, her mouth hanging open.

“Yeah.”

“Oh Honey,” she leaned forward and hugged you. It took you a moment to hug her back. She sat back down. You still felt numb. “When did you find out?”

“This morning,” you said, staring straight ahead. “I kept getting sick, went to a pharmacy to see what I could get, they asked if I was pregnant and…”

“It didn’t occur to you otherwise?” She asked, brows raised. “Hon, you teach bio. You’re getting ready to go to med school.”

“I know, I’m a fucking idiot,” you groaned. “I don’t know how this happened…”

“Please tell me this is the product of some fling you had that you never told me about and not the guy who broke your heart so bad you were basically catatonic for a week,” she said.

“Cute that you think I’m capable of having a fling,” you muttered. She groaned. “I know. This is the worst case scenario, I don’t know what the hell to do…”

“Do you know if you want to keep it or not yet?” She asked gently.

“I don’t know,” your hand drifted to your lower stomach again. “You’re a single parent, what do you think I should do?”

“I can’t answer that for you, Hon,” she covered the hand that was resting on the table with hers. “First of all, I was 29 when I got pregnant and happily married - or so I thought. Yeah, my husband was screwing around on me but I was none the wiser then. You’re, what, 23?”

“I’m 24,” you stared at her hand on yours.

“You’re basically a kid yourself,” she said. You snorted. Kid. Joel’d always seen you as a kid, even after years together. “And you’d be on your own from the get go. That’s a lot to consider.”

You just nodded slowly.

“Have you told the asshole?” She asked.

“Can you not call him that?” You frowned.

“He broke my friend’s heart, I should call him a lot worse,” she said. “But fine. Because of your delicate condition…” you smiled and she smiled back. “Have you told Joel?”

“No,” you said. “And I don’t know that I should. Ever. Even if I decide to keep it.”

“You’d really keep his child a secret from him?” She frowned. “Honey…”

“He’s just…” you felt like you were about to cry. “He’s the most dedicated father on the planet. The second I told him he’d uproot his whole life. All for something he doesn’t want. He already gave up everything once for a kid he didn’t plan for, I’m not going to make him do that again. He doesn’t want me, I’m not going to force it on him. I live far enough away now, I could never see him again. It’d be easy to never see him again, he’d never have to know.”

You looked down to the hand against your stomach, covering the place where part of him was growing inside you.

Part of you loved the idea of having a piece of him with you forever. But it seemed cruel, putting that on a child. And bringing a child into the world without their father’s knowledge.

“Fuck,” you sighed.

“I’ll support you, whatever you decide to do,” she said. “Want a clinic ride? I’ve got your back. Want tips on getting a crying baby to quiet down? I’ve got those. It’ll be OK. Whatever route you choose, it’ll be OK.”

Thursday, September 25, 2003

“That’s really still all you can eat,” Jessica, Louisa’s 13-year-old daughter was leaning across her mother’s kitchen counter at you. You broke off another piece of Clif bar and popped it in your mouth.

“Unfortunately yes,” you said. “Don’t get knocked up, it’s no fun.”

She cocked her head. “Can I try one?” She asked. You made a face.

“Why.”

She shrugged.

“It looks good,” she said. You looked at her skeptically. “You make it look like it would be good. Because you’re so pretty.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“What do you want.”

“Can you get my mom to let me go to a party tomorrow?” She asked quickly. “Everyone’s going…”

“You can’t go,” Louisa cut her daughter off. “Stop trying to get your aunt to help butter me up, it won’t work.”

“Mom,” she groaned, dragging the word out. “Please! I’ll clean the house for a month!”

“Gotta put in that work beforehand,” she shook her head. “Not happening.”

“Ugh!” Jessica stomped off to her room and slammed the door. Louisa sighed.

“See what you’ve got to look forward to?” She muttered.

“Counting the days,” you broke off another piece of Clif bar.

“Know if you’re telling him or not?” She asked, sitting next to you at the breakfast bar. You sighed.

“I’m leaning towards telling him,” you said. “It doesn’t feel right to have his kid and have him not know about it.”

“It would be a rough situation,” she nodded. “I think telling him is right. He should know there’s a little human that’s half his wandering around out in the world.”

“Did I tell you my friend Cassie from college got engaged?” You asked. She shook her head. “Well, she did. To the guy she’s been dating for less than a year. I probably should have figured this wasn’t going to stick when we were still just dating after three years… Anyway. Her engagement party is in October in Austin. I was thinking I could fly down, I shouldn’t be showing much yet. Could always just wear a flowy dress or something. See if he’ll talk to me and decide then.”

“That will give you a bit more time to think,” she said.

“I’ll have time to come up with a plan,” you nodded slowly. “That’s what I really need before I have this conversation. A plan for him to not need to be involved. We can play pass the baby once they’re old enough if he wants, ship them across the country to visit Dad for the summer. Alternate Christmases. But I’ll have a plan so that he doesn’t need to do anything. No child support, no obligation to me, nothing.”

You sighed, taking a sip of water.

“You know what really sucks about all this?” You asked.

“What?” She said.

“I really fucking need a glass of wine.”

Louisa barked a laugh.

“Yeah,” she said. “You really do.”

“His birthday’s tomorrow,” you said, staring at the wall. “Think I’ll text him. See if he’d be OK seeing me in October.”

“Have you talked to him since…”

“Nope,” you ate the last of the Clif bar. “Not a word.”

“Fucker,” she muttered.

“It’s a clean break,” you shrugged. “He wanted out. I don’t blame him.”

Louisa sighed.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this but I think you’ll be happy this way,” she said eventually. “You’re going to be the fucking best mom. And for all the asshole’s…”

“Joel’s,” you interrupted her.

“For all Joel’s faults,” she corrected herself. “He will be a devoted dad. Even from afar.”

You leaned your head on her shoulder.

“I know you’re right,” you sighed.

“You’ll get there, Kid,” she said. You smiled a little. You’d never told her what Joel used to call you. It still made you happy to hear it. “You’ll get there.”

Friday, September 26, 2003

It was a nice night. The air was cool, crisp. Cool enough that you’d thrown on a sweatshirt before going to lay in the grass in your grandmother’s back yard.

You couldn’t be happier that the week was over. Pregnancy was exhausting, you were tired all the time and the steady diet of nothing but Clif bars had gotten old really fast - though it was better than the constant vomiting. The cashier at the camping store in town had looked at you like you were crazy when you’d ordered several hundred of the damn things but, at a certain point, you were tired of going to the store for the same stupid thing every week when they had the half life of plutonium. You’d just picked up your stash earlier in the week and you’d been rotating through the flavors, pretending that made it so you were eating something different.

When you’d had lunch with Louisa that day, she told you she’d caved and told Jessica she could go to the party. Jessica was giddy. But Louisa had texted you just after you got outside, asking if you could watch for a text from Jessica if she needed anything later. She wasn’t feeling well, needed to lie down.

Something was probably going around. Nan had gone to bed early herself, complaining of a headache and just generally not feeling well. You were giving it until Monday, then you would call her oncologist. See if the cancer was back. Fuck, you hoped it wasn’t back. But you’d just have to cross that bridge…

You’d managed to text Joel earlier, too. It had gone better than you’d expected. You wrote and deleted the text four times before you sent it. “Happy birthday! Hope you’re doing well, old man.” You just hoped he’d respond, give you an in to see if he’d meet you in October. He replied almost instantly.

“Thanks, Kid. Hanging in there. How’s life up north?”

You hesitated. You didn’t want to look too eager.

“Not bad. Already ready for the school year to be done. How’s Sarah?”

He replied quickly again.

“Good. Loves her classes so far. Made me eggs with shells for breakfast.”

You laughed.

“Crunchy. Cassie got engaged. I was thinking of coming down for the party in October. Would you want to get coffee?”

There was a longer pause this time, but he eventually replied.

“How about dinner?”

You smiled. You doubted you’d be able to eat much but dinner with Joel sounded like heaven.

“Dinner works! I’ll let you know when I know details. Try not to break a hip, old man.”

“Take care of yourself, Kid.”

The sky was clear and wide and you wished you knew more about the constellations. You knew the big dipper and the north star, but otherwise were at a loss. You tried to invent new ones when the soft sounds of crickets and the breeze was broken by the roar of jet engines. Two small planes streaked overhead, flying low. You frowned, sitting up and turning to watch them.

They looked… military? Like something out of “Top Gun.” Which didn’t make any sense, you’d never seen planes like that near you. They disappeared from view and you were about to lie back down when the scream of engines returned. This time, there was a huge plane, flying lower than you were used to seeing. You could see the red, white and blue paint on the side. The smaller jets flew alongside it for a moment before falling back and you saw something launch from one of the smaller planes, streaking across the sky until it collided with the bigger plane, exploding on impact and sending the bigger plane crashing to the Earth.

“Oh my God!”

You didn’t remember standing up but you were on your feet, running toward where the plane would come down. The smaller jets tore off, engines roaring, and you felt as the larger plane hit the ground, the force of the impact shaking the Earth and knocking you down. The plane landed in the field of the lavender farm, an orange fireball casting the farmhouse in a ghoulish silhouette.

You just stared for a second. It didn’t make sense. Why would fighter jets shoot down a fucking passenger plane? Would anyone have survived? Was there anything you could do? Was there another terrorist attack, were people crashing planes into buildings again, was that why?

Your hands shook as you went for your phone, just staring. You were fumbling with it, trying to open it to call 911 when the screen lit up. It was Joel. You managed to answer.

“Joel?” Your voice shook.

“Baby,” he sounded frantic. “Thank fuck, are you OK?”

How did he know? It couldn’t be on the news yet, how could he know?

“I’m OK,” you said. You were in a daze. There was so much fire… “What’s happening? I was outside, there were jets… they shot down a fucking plane, Joel, are we under attack?”

“Has anyone tried to hurt you?”

You tried to make sense of the question. Aside from almost having a plane shot down on your head?

“No,” you said. “Joel, what’s happening, why are you asking me that?”

“Somethin’s happening,” he said quickly. “I don’t know what the fuck it is but people are going crazy, one of the Adlers just tried to kill Sarah…”

“What!” You screamed it. “Is she…”

“She’s OK. But they’re not the only ones, there’s somethin’ happening,” he said. “Baby, I need you to listen to me, do exactly what I tell you, OK?”

“Joel…”

“Remember all the gear we got for our hiking trip last year?” He asked. You just nodded for a moment before you remembered that you’d need to talk.

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Good,” he said. “Go get that. All of it, pack your backpack and only take what you need to survive. Get food you can live off of for a bit. Your grandma still have that shotgun?”

“Yes,” you were still watching the plane burn.

“Good,” he said again. “Get that, too. And all the ammunition. Car have gas?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Try to make sure you can carry everything you need and have it ready to go but load your car. Try to get to Martha’s Vineyard, OK?” “Martha’s… why?”

“Sounds like it might just be the cities,” he said quickly. “Get there. Far enough from the cities but enough rich people that they’ll keep it safe. I’ll come get you, OK? I’m coming to get you.”

“Joel,” your voice broke.

“You kill anyone who comes near you, you hear me?” He said. “It’s going to come down to you livin’ or them, make sure it’s you.”

“I can’t just kill people, Joel…”

“Yes you can, Baby,” he sounded so desperate. “Yes you can. Protect yourself, keep yourself safe, that’s all that matters. I’ve got Sarah and Tommy, we’re coming to get you. I love you. I love you so much, don’t let anyone take you from me, do you understand?”

“I love you too,” you breathed.

“I’m coming to get you, Baby,” he said. “Stay safe. Please, please, Baby, stay safe.”

“Dad!” You could barely hear Sarah’s shriek before the call dropped.

“Joel?” You knew it was useless but you yelled into the phone anyway. “Joel!”

You tried to call again but just got the dissonant sound of a call failing to connect.

“Martha’s Vineyard,” you said to yourself, forcing yourself to run for your house. “Martha’s Vineyard.”

You went to the basement and found all the gear from your hiking trip, packing it as quickly as you could while keeping things somewhat organized. You still had a fair bit of room left in the large hiking pack when you lugged it up to the kitchen. You grabbed all the Clif bars plus some of the protein drinks your grandmother’s doctors had told her to drink. You grabbed water, too.

“Nan!” You yelled, tucking the shotgun below your arm as you headed upstairs. “You awake?”

You were sure she was, there’s no way she slept through the plane crash.

“We have to go, Nan,” you called as you went to your room, grabbing a few pairs of clean underwear, socks and a waterproof jacket. There was still a bit of room in your pack, so you grabbed your quilt off your bed. You could always ditch it if you absolutely needed to later, but for now you had the space and you wanted it with you. You pulled the pictures you had of you, Joel and Sarah from their frames and stashed them in a pocket on the pack. You grabbed your favorites of you and your grandmother, too, and the one you had of you and Becca. You grabbed your phone charger.

“Nan?” You took one last look around your room, hoping you’d see it again. You weren’t so sure you would. There was a scraping sound behind you and you turned. Your grandmother stood in the doorway but she didn’t look quite right. Her head was cocked, her arms dangling. Her eyes looked dead.

“Nan?” You frowned, walking over to her. “Are you feeling OK? We have to go…”

You never had the chance to offer to pack her a bag. A horrific snarl ripped from her throat and she lunged for you, fingers reaching and grasping.

“Nan!” You caught her by the shoulders, her teeth bared. “Nan, stop it’s me!”

Her nails dragged down your neck, ripping through skin. She pulled back from you just enough to launch herself at you again, knocking you prone. “Nan!”

It was like something else had taken over her body, her clawing hands and gnashing teeth straining to reach you. “Nan, please!”

You shoved her as hard as you could, sending her slamming into your dresser. She hit her head, blood splattering on the flowers you’d painted on the drawer fronts. You scrambled to your feet, grabbing the pack and slinging it on your back before picking up the gun. You tried to back out of the room, not wanting to turn your back on your grandmother. She snarled and rose onto all fours, pulling herself toward you.

Time slowed and you heard Joel’s voice in your head. “Don’t let anyone take you from me.” His child was inside you. He was coming for you. You had to live to get to him.

You raised the gun and fired, the recoil sending you stumbling back as your grandmother’s body flew away from you with the force of the blast. She lay sprawled on the ground, a horrible screaming sound all but deafening you. It took you a moment to realize that it was you making the sound, a choking sob cutting it off. You aimed the gun at the ground, cautiously approaching her, hoping that the blast had somehow killed whatever has possessed her but left her intact. Your shot had caught her in the chest, a gaping hole in her rib cage. You dropped to your knees beside her body, her eyes staring emptily up at the ceiling.

“I’m so sorry Nan,” you choked out, smoothing her hair back. “I’m so sorry, I love you, I’m so sorry…”

You almost didn’t see it through your tears, the creeping, fibrous tentacle sliding through her lips. You scrambled back, gasping for breath through rasping sobs as it reached and groped. You forced yourself to your feet and staggered from the room, feeling almost drunk.

It almost didn’t feel like you were safe to drive but you had to keep moving. You grabbed your keys, leaning on the counter in the kitchen for support, and stumbled into your driveway. Another fighter jet shrieked overhead and you instinctively ducked, but no other planes fell out of the sky. The horizon still burned, the air smelling like smoke. You put your bag in the back seat and the shotgun in the passenger seat, some extra ammo tucked in your pockets. You took a second and reloaded the gun, holding the wheel for a moment. You had no fucking clue how to get to Martha’s Vineyard and the only maps in your car were for New York State and NYC. Just as you were trying to come up with a plan, your phone rang.

“Joel?” You said quickly.

“It’s Jessica,” she was sobbing. “My mom, there’s something wrong with my mom, I don’t know…”

“Get out of the house,” you said quickly. “I’ll come get you, don’t touch her don’t try to help her, just run! I’m coming to get you, just run Jessica, do you hear me?”

“OK,” she said, breathless. “Don’t leave me…”

“Not leaving you,” you said. “Just hanging up for now. Avoid people, avoid anyone who isn’t me. I’m coming for you.”

You were almost thankful for a direction to go in. You had to get away from your house, from your grandmother’s body and the thing inside it, from what you’d done there. Jessica was a place to go, a purpose. You drove fast.

Louisa and Jessica’s place was a townhouse and the area around it was chaos. Several cars had crashed near the entrance to the neighborhood and one was burning. People were scrambling to load cars. One man was boarding up his windows with a rifle strapped to his back. As you got closer to Louisa and Jessica’s unit, there were bodies, splayed on the ground in unnatural positions. You parked haphazardly in front of their place, grabbing the shotgun and locking the doors as you left the car.

“Jessica!” You yelled, gun up and ready to fire. “It’s me, where are you?”

There was an inhuman shriek from behind you and you spun, gun up. A woman who looked vaguely familiar - you were pretty sure you’d seen her walking her dog when you sat on Louisa’s porch with a beer in your hand - was running for you, her arms outstretched. You didn’t hesitate this time, aiming for her stomach, the shot knocking you off balance and sending you stumbling back over a body on the ground behind you. You fell but the woman did too, her going immediately still. You shook, breathless, staring at her. You’d killed her. Your hand went to your lower stomach. You’d killed her. She might have been gone before you shot her but you’d killed her.

You leaned over and threw up, what little you’d eaten that day coming up.

“What’s happening?”

You looked behind you. Jessica was shaking. There were scratches and blood on her knees and it looked like Louisa had gotten her the same way your grandmother had gotten you, long scratches that looked like they were from a human hand down her arm.

“Hey,” you tried to smile reassuringly and then remembered that you’d tripped over a dead body. You scrambled back.

“My mom…” her eyes were wide, wild.

“I’m sorry, Jessica,” you said softly as you got to your feet. You brushed her hair back, holding her face in your hands. “I’m so sorry but she’s gone, whatever is inside your house isn’t your mom anymore.”

“What?” Her eyes went wider, she started hyperventilating.

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “I know. But I have a plan, OK? And part of the plan is getting out of here. You and me. We’re going to get through this.”

She just nodded, still gasping for breath. You put an arm around her, the gun in your other hand, watching for whatever might come running for you. But nothing did. You made it back to the car without an issue, putting Jessica in the passenger seat. You reloaded the gun and grabbed the compass from the side pocket of the backpack, giving both to Jessica.

“Just keep the gun handy, OK?” You said. “Don’t shoot anyone, just give it to me when I ask you for it, OK?”

“OK,” she nodded quickly.

“The compass is going to be what I need you for most,” you said, driving slowly back the way you came through the neighborhood. “I don’t have a map for where we’re headed. I can get us there but I’ll need some help navigating.”

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“An island,” you said. “Where there’s hopefully less of… whatever this is. We’re meeting Joel there.”

“Joel?” She looked at you. “The guy my mom says is a douchebag?”

You laughed a little even though there was nothing funny about this situation. But Jessica reminded you of her mom and it was what you needed.

“He’s not. Well, he’s not all the time,” you said. You passed the burning cars, pulling slowly onto the main road. “What matters is, I’m going to keep you safe. OK?”

“OK,” she nodded, swallowing hard.

You immediately went for the back country roads, hoping there would be fewer burning cars and possessed people. And there were, for about an hour. It was almost eerily quiet, you driving slow with just the running lights, wanting to avoid drawing attention to yourselves. But as you got closer to another town, you heard the faint sound of a helicopter. You pulled off the road and shut off the car.

“Stay put,” you ordered Jessica.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“I don’t know what that helicopter is doing here and I don’t want to find out,” you said. “So we’re just going to lay low.”

“But what if they could help?”

You shook your head.

“We can’t afford to trust them,” you said. “We don’t know who they are or what their job here is…”

As if on cue, there was a spray of gunfire down the middle of the road, the chopper flying overhead. You ducked down low, grabbing Jessica and tucking her head down, too. You heard bullets hit your trunk and glass break behind you. Jessica sobbed. You held her down until the helicopter left, trying to not hyperventilate. “Don’t let anyone take you from me.”

You tried to start the car again but the engine wouldn’t turn over. You realized it must have been shot. It was sheer luck that you’d been missed. You pulled your sweatshirt over your head and handed it to Jessica. She just looked at it.

“It’s chilly,” you said. “You dressed for a party tonight, not to go traipsing through the country side. We’ll find something that fits you tomorrow but for now, you’ll need this.”

She took it, holding it in her hands for a moment, staring down at it.

“Whose blood is it?” She asked. “I saw it, earlier, when you picked me up. Whose blood is it?”

You hadn’t even realized there’d been blood on it.

“Probably my grandmother’s,” you said softly. “She… She was like your mom.”

She nodded, pulling it on. While she did, you tried calling Joel one more time. It wouldn’t connect.

You got your backpack out of the car and clung to the gun.

“We’re going to get through this,” you said, as much to convince yourself as it was to convince her. “We’ve got this.”

She nodded at you. You took a deep breath.

“Let’s go.”

***

Saturday, September 27, 2003

The sun was up. It didn’t feel right that the sun was up. How could the sun be up.

“Joel.”

Tommy’s voice felt very far away. Everything felt very far way.

“Joel, we have to keep moving,” he said. “C’mon. If we stay here much longer, trouble’s gonna find us, we have to go.”

He got up. Part of him was aware that his body hurt but it was hard to actually feel it. Any pain in his body was a relief. It was better than burning, stabbing, gaping wound at the center of him. Anything, anything to take away from that was a blessing.

They’d already passed dozens of bodies. They kept off the highway, sticking to tree lines where they could, Tommy’s head on a swivel when they couldn’t.

Joel couldn’t bring himself to care enough to watch for anything. Every body they passed was a reminder. Sarah was gone. He’d held her body, she was gone, he’d never hear her or see her or touch her again. He’d been right there, right there and he couldn’t save her. She was gone.

The dead made him think of you, too. There were so many bodies. He hadn’t been able to save Sarah. There had been no one there to save you.

You were a lot of things. Brilliant. Funny. Beautiful. You weren’t a killer. You were too kind, too sweet to survive something like this. You’d have taken pity on someone who turned on you, someone who slit your throat for your pack or shot you to take your car. Or you wouldn’t be able to hurt someone who came at you in that foreign, inhuman way. You’d wait a second too long and they’d rip you to pieces. God, he hoped it had been quick for you. He hoped that they’d just killed you and hadn’t done worse to you first, just because they could. Whatever had gotten you, he hoped you hadn’t felt it. That it hadn’t been like Sarah, gasping and choking and in pain.

“Joel.”

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking. The sun was low in the sky again.

“We should stop here,” Tommy said. “Good vantage points…”

Joel didn’t say anything. He just stood there.

“You hear me?” Tommy said.

“What?” Joel asked.

“I said stay here,” he said. “Saw something down that hill, looked like a truck for a grocery store. I’m going to see if I can grab some food for us.”

“Yeah.”

“Joel.”

He looked up. Tommy looked like he was in pain.

“Just sit tight, OK?” He said. “Just sit tight.”

Joel watched him leave, standing and staring at nothing.

There was nothing left for him here. Nothing. Without Sarah, without you, it wasn’t worth it. Life before whatever was happening wasn’t worth it without Sarah, without you. Now? How could it be.

He sniffed and pulled out his gun.

He thought, for a moment, about the last time the three of you had been all together. It was the day you flew back to New York. The two of you had woken up early, decided to have coffee by the pool, go for a swim before Sarah woke up for the day. She was a teenager, she slept late. He made love to you in the water. You tasted like coffee and cherry chapstick. You smelled like lavender, even with the chlorine. You were soft and warm and felt like home.

When Sarah got up, you and Joel had already dressed for the day. Your bags were by the door. Sarah asked if you’d make French Toast and you’d agreed, as long as she helped. He watched the two of you in the kitchen, Sarah picking egg shells out from the batter because she’d never quite gotten the hang of cracking eggs. She was singing some pop song that grated on Joel whenever it came on the radio but he liked it when Sarah sang it. You bobbed your head along to it, using the spatula as a drumstick on the stove top. The coffee was hot and smooth. The world felt right.

He held onto the moment in his mind, pressing the gun against his head. He wasn’t sure he believed in an afterlife but he hoped it would be like that. Just that one morning, on loop, over and over and over again. Just him and Sarah and you, until the end of all things.

He started pulling the trigger when he heard your voice, so clear it was like you were standing next to him.

“I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.”

He flinched.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #tlou hbo #tlou fic #joel miller x original character

286 notes · View notes