#which i only was able to do because i went back to the doctor and insisted they run another thyroid test after they'd already ruled it out

[eggsnatcheskneecaps]

.

[marmolita]

today I got an email from a medical lab advertising for cyber week deals and I feel like this is a very American email to receive 💀

1. You can order your own lab tests, which you might do because there's no way you're going to be able to see a primary care doctor in a reasonable time these days and urgent care is expensive and the direct purchase costs are sometimes easier to deal with than your insurance

2. The implication that any random person on the street is capable of ordering the right lab tests and understanding the results

3. It's gotta go on sale after Thanksgiving??? are people buying each other lab tests as holiday gifts? cyber week discount HEALTHCARE god this is so very United States of Fucked Up

[dagasinfilo]

god i need to get this bitch diagnosed

[miley1442111]

the fifth kiss- s.reid

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

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

a/n: season one, episode 18 'Somebody's Watching'

summary: lila archer gets in the way of you and spencer.

pairing: spencer reid x fem bau! reader

warnings: general cm topics, the team don't know about you and spencer, injuries, reader gets injured, spencer shoots someone. (i think that's it, tell me if i missed anything :))

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

You sat in your hotel room, confused at the events of the day. Maybe it was the sweltering LA heat, or maybe it was the awful way Lila and Spencer were making goo-goo eyes at each other. 

You had been at the gallery with him and his sub-par flirting. At least Lila was happy. When Spencer  had to leave he was practically begging you to convince Gideon to leave him with Lila. 

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

“Sprence, we have to go,” You grabbed his shoulder and went up on tip-toes to whisper in his ear. You started walking out of the gallery with Gideon and noticed Spencer didn’t follow. 

“Spencer!” Gideon called to him. 

Spencer walked up to you. “Do you need me? Or c-can I stick around here for a while?” He smiled shyly. 

“Gideon wants you so I’d just ask him,’” you shrugged. 

“But… Can you just ask him?” Spencer pushed. 

“Spencer!” Gideon called. “Y/n!”

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

When Detective Kim asked you to look at the crime scene, and when the rest of the team was called, everyone knew that you’d be most helpful in this case. You’d been in the violent crimes division which meant you’d be able to accurately tell them if it was a gang, what kind of killer it was, and why they were doing it. On top of that you were definitely the most qualified to talk to Lila Archer when she came back with the note from her stalker/ the unsub because of your year as a liaison on a team in London. 

“Hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n, this is Agent Morgan, Agent Greenaway, Agent Jareau, Agent Hotchner, and of course, you know Agent Gideon and Doctor Reid,” you introduced the team as she came into the room. “Agent Morgan and I will ask you some questions, if that’s ok?”

She nodded her head but her eyes stayed glued to where Spencer had his arm around you. You two were best friends, in the team's eyes. In reality, you two had been dating for the past 4 weeks. You hadn’t told anyone since it was only new but you really liked him. But, you two had sex and he hasn’t asked you out again. Granted, you’ve both been busy but… doubt was starting to creep in. 

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

“Did you know Natalie Ryan?” You asked.

“We spoke when we were in public, but we were never friends,” she shrugged as she picked at her nails, clearly uninterested in what you had to say. 

“What about Wally Mellman?” Morgan added. 

“What about him?” she asked. 

“He was killed a few months ago, did you know him?” You asked. 

Lila shook her head. “I read for a part but they went a different way.”

“What way?” Elle asked as she entered the room. 

“They cast another actress… it was Natalie,” she admitted. 

“Nice way to get rid of competition,” Morgan said, eyeing her agent beside her. 

“Hey it wasn’t me! I brought her into this damn police station,” he defended.

“Alright, do you ever feel like you’re being watched?” You asked. 

“All the time,” she scoffed. “It kind of comes with the territory.”

“Yes, but an unusual amount,” you continued. “Something out of the ordinary that happens regularly-”

“Repetitive phone calls with hang-ups, gifts left anonymously,” Morgan started listing. 

Lila wasn’t listening and she definitely wasn’t cooperating. 

“Ms. Archer?” you asked. Her eyes snapped back to yours. 

“Pardon?”

“Is there something more important you could be doing right now?” You snarked.

“Why isn’t Dr. Reid in here?” She asked. 

“He’s busy,” Elle answered. “I can assure you, you are with the people you need to be with right now.”

“Yes, but why do I need to be with all of you?” She asked and your blood boiled. 

“Because we’re the people on the team that have worked on stalking cases before, Dr. Reid, hasn’t,” Morgan gritted out, anger spilling from him too. 

“Now back to the questions, does something out of the ordinary happen on a regular basis?”m You asked. 

“I receive flowers,” she admitted. “On the 7th of each month they just appear in my trailer. Never a note, just a plain glass bowl. Red anemones, my favourite.” 

“And you’ve never questioned who they’re from?” Elle asked. 

“Celebrities get anonymous gifts all the time, she has fans y’know?” 

“Does the number 7 mean anything to you? Did you meet anyone on the 7th, or in the 7th month of the year?”

“No,” she said, definitively. “I would remember.”

“Alright, who would you have told about red anemones being your favourite flower?” you asked.

“I don’t know, I guess my friends and family?” she sighed. “Can we be done now?”

“Lila, I need a list of people who would know that those flowers are your favourite, like… my boyfriend knows that my favourite flowers are blue lilies-” Lila’s eyes snapped to yours and immediately sized you up. 

“Who’s your boyfriend?” She asked. “Are you dating Spencer?”

“No, I am not dating Dr. Reid,” you lied. 

“Why are you two so close?” She questioned. 

“Am I interviewing you or are you interviewing me?” You snapped back. “Ms. Archer, two people are dead because of you, that’s the reality of the situation. Dr. Reid is working your case, just like the rest of us. So, I suggest you start cooperating before someone else gets hurt.” 

Lila’s eyes clouded and glossed over, she left the room, sniffling and on the verge of tears. You didn’t care. She was withholding information for no reason other than the fact that she liked Spencer. 

“What happened?” Spencer demanded when he walked in. “Lila’s crying.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fucking brat.”

Elle and Derek nodded their heads in agreement while Spencer pulled a face of confusion. 

“Spencer, she’s just like every other Hollywood starlet, selfish, self-centred, and really annoying,” Elle chuckled and both Derek and you laughed with her. 

“She's a person who’s going through a very hard time right now,” he stated then turned his gaze on you. “and you spoke to her in an unprofessional way.”

You scoffed. “Right…” 

“I mean it, she told me what you said.” 

“You mean… the truth? Two people are dead because of her,” you sighed. “Listen Spencer, I don’t want to fight you over your clear crush on her,” something you hadn’t wanted to admit earlier. “So go for it, sleep with her, kiss her, I don't really care.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened. He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. You’d been on 4 dates. You two weren’t ‘dating’. 

“Y/n-” Spencer tried but you got up. 

“I’m going to grab some coffee,” you announced, then left with Spencer behind you. 

“What do you mean you don’t care?” Spencer asked in a small voice as he stood behind you. 

“Spencer, we both know you have a crush on Lila, if you want to go for it, go for it,” you sighed. 

“But I… what about us?”

“We both know you got what you wanted,” you shrugged. “I just never thought you’d be like that.”

“W-what am I like?,” he stuttered.

You ignored his stupid question.“And Spencer, I don’t really take kindly to people questioning my ability to do my job, alright?” 

Spencer just nodded, and walked away.

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

You cared. You cared a lot. 

That’s why you were sitting in your hotel room alone and crying, confused about the day. 

There was a knock at the door. You opened it and found Gideon. 

“Evening?” You questioned as you let him in, brushing the tears off your cheeks. 

“You and Spencer need to talk,” he stated. 

“About what?”

“Your relationship, for one,” he sighed. “You two are both in love with each other, we can all see it, and now you’ve sent him off to go sleep with a movie star because he can’t stop stuttering around her?”

You looked away in embarrassment. “The goo-goo eyes didn’t help,” you shrugged, speaking like a dejected child. 

“What was your first date?”

“We don-t- we aren’t-”

“Yes you did. Now tell me, what was your first date?”

“We went to the cinema near his apartment, we saw this Italian film, ‘La Chimera’, then we got lunch,” you rattled off.

“What was his body language throughout?”

“Gideon-” you sighed.

“Tell me,” he said sternly.  

“He was nervous, he kept messing with his hands, he was stuttering, and when I kissed him he tensed up for a few seconds,” you rolled your eyes at Gideon’s antics. 

“Exactly, and who is the only person on this team that Spencer genuinely seeks out to touch?” He asked. 

“Me.”

“Exactly.” 

“But still, he also likes her and I don’t know if you noticed but I’m not her!”

“But you’re you, and Spencer’s in love with you.”

You sighed. “I sent him off.”

“What?” He asked, horrified. 

“I told him we were ‘casual’ and that I didn’t care if he dated someone else.”

“Why would you do that?” He hissed. 

“Because I thought it was the right thing to do!”

“You’re supposed to be intelligent!” He groaned. 

“I know!” You shouted back. 

Gideon sighed and walked closer, pulling you into a hug. “You two will be ok.”

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

You sat beside Lila as she got into makeup. “I’m not stopping my life,” she stated. 

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” you sighed. 

Spencer walked up beside you two with a coke in his hand. 

Lila turned her nose up at the coffee that she’d been drinking for the past few minutes and you almost laughed when she took his coke, expecting him to grab it right back. Your mouth dropped open when hee let her drink from it, then took a drink right after. She was called to the scene and you rolled your eyes. 

“You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” Derek teased. 

“Shut up.”

“Go get ‘em loverboy.”

When Spencer met your eyes you swore you saw regret, or some kind of remorse in them. You ignored it.

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

“We were too late,” Gideon’s voice rang over your phone. 

“Shit, she’s going to be devastated.” 

“Don’t tell her yet,” he asked.

“Course.”

You hung up and gathered Lila and Spencer and some of her things. 

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

You got picked up by Derek and Detective Kim, and you sent Spencer and Lila on their way. 

“How are the two lovebirds?” Derek asked, exasperation and irritation clear in his voice. 

“Oh, they’re all great, never a dull moment where she isn’t trying to get into his pants,” you sighed as you three walked out of the paparazzo's apartment. 

“Where are we headed next?” you asked. 

“Lila’s. We need to bring more people to her, maybe even get her to a safehouse,” Kim sighed. A motorcycle started and before you knew it, you were against the car and groaning in pain. 

“Y/n! Are you alright?” Derek shouted. 

“Yeah, it just grazed,” You nodded, looking at the flesh wound the bullet had left behind. “Get to Kim,” you told him. You reached for your gun and shot after the motorcyclist but they got away. 

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

After being bandaged up, you and Derek sped to Lila’s house to find Spencer and Lila soaked. 

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

“I fell into the pool,” Spencer admitted sheepishly. 

“Sure, I’m sure there’s a bunch of photos of it,” you nodded sarcastically. You walked away, an uncertain heartbreak settling deep in your gut as you went through the photos, ripping them out, for his sake.

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

Spencer felt awful. He had been rude to you, he’d gone against you, he’d kissed someone else. 

The entire time, all he could think about were the four times he’d kissed you. 

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

One. 

You two were outside the lunch place he loved and you’d both spent the entire meal talking about the film. It was comfortable, and probably too domestic to be a first date but Spencer didn’t mind. He loved the way you and him were comfortable around each other. 

“So I’ll see you at work on Monday?” You smiled, that perfect smile that drove Spencer crazy. 

“Yes, you will see me at work on Monday,” he smiled, breathing out slowly. You chuckled, then wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. Your lips on his genuinely re-wired his entire being. He felt butterflies and heat run through him, until he kissed back. Then he knew that this was an addiction. That he wanted to kiss you every moment of every hour of every day for the rest of his life. 

You had to guide his hands to your hips and it was a bit of a laughing/ kissing thing, but it was amazing all the same. 

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

Two. 

Spencer stood in your kitchen, grabbing his coat from the chair when you kissed him. This time he was prepared. His hands immediately went to your waist, large palms spanning over the navy colour of the sundress you were wearing. God you looked beautiful. 

Again, your lips on his was something he’d never get enough of. How perfect you felt. How beautiful you were. He was sure he was in love. 

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

Three. 

You dragged him kicking and screaming to a farmer’s market, but in the end he’d enjoyed it. He’d enjoyed it because you’d actually kissed him twice. Once when he remembered something minute about you (How could he ever forget?) and another time when you’d simply wanted to. You and that damn sundress. 

----------------------------------- 

Four. 

You were at his apartment and you were on his lap. He had been painfully hard as you continued kissing him and slowly grinding down on him. 

“Do you want to…?” you asked, a hazy lust-filled smirk on your face. 

Spencer just nodded. 

“Do you have a condom?” You asked and chuckled when he sheepishly shook his head. “It’s fine, I’m on birth-control,” you smiled and Spencer just followed your lead. 

After what felt like hours of you just sinking down on his ridiculously large cock, you finally started moving. 

“Oh fuck,” you mumbled. “You’re so big,” you groaned into his ear. Spencer whimpered as you slowly moved up and down his length. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had thought about fucking you, a lot. Sometimes you were under him, sometimes you were over him, it didn’t matter. He wanted to fuck you. 

And that he did. 

After you fucked him on the couch, he turned it around and slammed into you with such vigour his couch moved. His fingers explored your core and once he ended up tasting you, he knew he couldn’t go back. He spent half an hour between your legs, licking and fingering you, moaning with you as if he was getting pleasure from it as well, which he was. 

Once the both of you were cleaned up you fell asleep in his bed with his arms firmly around you. The next morning you both smiled at each other, not exactly shy but still hesitant to talk about what had happened. Spencer knew that was the right moment to ask you, but he couldn’t. He wanted you, all of you. He wanted you to be his girlfriend, then eventually his fiancee, and eventually his wife.  

He was head over heels in love. 

And when you kissed him sweetly, nothing like the sex-fuelled kisses from the night before, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. 

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

“W-what happened?” Spencer asked, signalling to the bandage on your arm. 

“A bullet grazed me,” you shrugged. 

“A-are you okay?” he asked. 

“Fine,” you gritted out. You didn’t look at him, in fear of catching a glimpse of those damn puppy-dog eyes. 

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

As Spencer apologised to Lila, you searched the house. 

The house was big, too big for one person to live here but you digressed. As you searched you gave yourself a moment to think over the events of the past 48 hours. 

“Who’re you?” A blonde woman asked from her seat at the vanity. 

“Who’re you?” you asked, pulling your gun. “Spencer!”

You could hear Spencer and Lila running to you. 

For the second time that night, you were on the floor bleeding. Great. The police officers out front started running into the house as Spencer reached you. She’d hit you in your chest. 

“Shit,” Spencer cursed. He pulled out his phone and called an ambulance. The officers took down Maggie and you were rushed to hospital. 

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

Hours and hours of surgery later, you were awake with Spencer’s hand in yours. 

“Hi,” he smiled softly. 

“Hi.”

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed. “I was so stupid, I shouldn’t have let you walk away like that. I’m so sorry-”

“It’s alright,” you smiled. “I’m glad things worked out between you and Lila.”

Spencer’s face dropped. “I don’t want Lila. I want you. I’m in love with you. I only want you.”

Your heart sped up, you could hear it on the monitor. Both you and Spencer laughed. 

“Good. I’m in love with you too," you smiled once your laughter had subsided.  

He leaned down and kissed you softly. 

The fifth kiss. 

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)

[wosoamazing]

Birth

Baby x3 | Baby, Baby... Baby?

Summary: The triplets are born.

Warnings: Surgery, Hospitals

“You’re okay, bebé, just focus on me,” Alexia told you, causing your roaming eyes to focus on her, and she smiled at you from where she sat, just next to your head on a stool, you smiled back slightly, clearly nervous, you didn’t like surgery, it scared you, and truth be told neither did Alexia but she had to stay strong for you, “I love you, you’re doing amazing bebé, just try and relax for me,” you nodded before closing your eyes, willing yourself to be anywhere else. 

Alexia didn’t know if you would actually be able to last the whole time needed for the procedure, especially when a tear rolled down the side of your face, followed by a few more. She quickly wiped them away before squeezing your hand, and kissing your forehead, she couldn’t help but feel this was her fault, you opted out of having general anaesthesia for many reasons, but one of which was that Alexia couldn’t be there if you had chosen it, and it was only fair that she got to witness this too. 

Alexia watched as your midwife asked the doctor something quietly, to which he nodded before she went to the anesthesiologist and asked him too, and he nodded before starting to set up something else, whilst your midwife approached Alexia.

-

“Bebé, would you like to try some nitrous oxide? See if it helps? It’s okay if not but we just thought to offer. Maybe see if it will help you relax slightly?” Alexia asked you softly and you gave a hesitant nod.

Alexia was handed the mouthpiece from the anesthesiologist, and she then turned all her focus back on you “bebé, I’m just going to separate our hands for a moment, okay?” she did so and soon your hand was placed over hers. She gently brought the mouthpiece to your mouth and you took a few breaths before pulling it back, and after a few more breaths you felt yourself relax slightly more, enough so that you felt comfortable enough to open your eyes and look at her, giving her a small smile.

——————

“Okay, everyone ready, first baby will be out soon,” you looked at Alexia and she smiled and nodded, you both weren’t going to really get a view of the babies before they had to be taken away, being born at 33 weeks there was a large unknown as to how much support they would need and what complications would arise meaning each baby having a NICU team ready for them in the OR.

After what felt like forever the surgery was finally over and you were wheeled back to a private recovery room. Where Alexia sat by your side once again, watching you as you fought back sleep.

“Bebé, if you’re tired sleep, I’ll wake you up if the doctors come in, and I promise I won’t leave you, I love you so much, and I am incredibly proud of you,” you nodded your head at her, mumbling an “I love you too,” before falling asleep.

Your midwife walks in just minutes later and Alexia goes to wake you, “No need to wake her, I’m just checking her blood pressure and other vitals,” she says and Alexia nods, “Also the babies are good, they obviously still have to do all the tests and things could change especially within the next hour or so but so far everything is looking good,” Alexia nods once again, worried she might cry if she opened her mouth.

“Is it alright if I let a visitor in?” your perinatologist asks as he walks in, and Alexia nods hesitantly, “as we spoke about in your plan I’ve already explained everything that happened to her,” he continued as Eli walked in and over to her daughter.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said before he left, your midwife following him.

“You’re a Mami now,” Eli said softly, hyper aware that you were sleeping just beside her.

“Sí, I just hope it was the right decision,” 

“What do you mean?”

“She was so scared Mami, they gave her nitrous oxide to help her calm down and it did help slightly but not that much, it’s why she is sleeping now, she was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, she’s exhausted, and I feel bad, it’s because of me, she stayed awake because of me,”

“From what I heard you were very very good to her though, and you both had many conversations about it, she’d even spoken to me about what to do and ultimately I think she wanted you there with her more than she didn’t want to be awake,” Alexia just nodded and hummed, before getting out of her chair.

“Sit,” she practically ordered her mother, before she moved to stand beside your bed, softly brushing some strands of hair out of your face, causing you to stir slightly.

“Ale,” you said groggily.

“Sorry bebé, you don’t need to be awake, are you feeling okay though?”

“Mm-hmm, lie with me?” you said, you were already positioned over to one side of the bed, and so Alexia carefully slipped into the bed beside you, before you placed your head on her shoulder, promptly falling back asleep.

“She is definitely not mad at you,” Eli laughed slightly, earning her a harsh glare from her eldest.

“They’re perfect,” you whispered as you held two of the babies against your chest, a blanket covering you and them, Alexia sat beside you, holding the other against her chest.

“You did an amazing job Bebé, thank you,” she replied, as soft tears fell down her cheeks

“I can’t believe we’re mami’s now,” you told her, and looked at her. 

“I love you bebé,” Alexia said before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

Mapi was sitting on the bus, with her headphones in as the team travelled up to Bunyol for their game against Levante when she received a message from you and Alexia with a photo. You both looked to be shirtless as you sat side by side on the small hospital bed, two small babies laid on your chest covered by a blanket, and beside you one baby laid on Alexia’s chest, also covered by a blanket. You and Alexia both looked absolutely exhausted, and at the bottom of the picture Mapi could see several wires coming out from under the blankets that were clearly connected to the babies. Yet you were still both beaming. 

Your god daughters are here. Meet Estella María Putellas, Mila María Putellas, and Livia María Putellas born 21 March 2020 at 11:00am.

As Mapi felt tears begin to fall from her eyes a collective gasp was heard from the rest of the team. Alexia had sent the exact same photo to the team group chat just minutes after the message to Mapi was sent.

[minswriting]

okayyy so…. been thinking about jesus reid with his cane lately and i was wondering if you could do a little blurb where spencer is having trouble…. finishing, maybe cuz of his leg (idk how that would work but like) and spencer’s getting all frustrated so coworker!reader offers to help him out and he’s all whiny n shit 🤭

nsfw | mdni

i can imagine this being like he rarely ever has any free time so he tries to get off when he takes a shower but standing for too long hurts his leg. so he went to work without being able to get off. i hope you guys enjoy!! this is fem!reader btw as all of my works are!

warnings: nsfw content, blowjob, female reader, whiny spencer

—————————-

when spencer came into work looking defeated, you immediately knew that something was wrong. you weren’t quite sure as to what it was. but as the genius doctor walked with his cane, you just assumed it was likely to be his leg bothering him. you had felt bad at the fact that he had been shot in the leg and was suffering through walking with a cane. and judging by the look on his face, the one of frustration and annoyance, you could tell it was most certainly his leg that was bothering him.

it was one of those rare days when there wasn’t a case and so the only work to do is paperwork or reading up on old case files. your desk was right next to spencer’s as you looked at your computer to check your emails. you glanced over at spencer, who was reading an old file. he was biting the inside of his cheek as his finger followed along the text, his hair falling to his cheeks. he looked tense and you couldn’t help but speak up.

“spence?” you asked, looking at the genius.

spencer looked up from the file to look at you. “yes?” he replied softly. his voice was usually soft spoken and you loved that about him.

“are you okay?” you asked with a concerned look in your eye. “you’ve seemed frustrated and annoyed all day,” you added.

spencer took a deep breath, stretching his arms. “i-i mean for the most part i am,” he exclaimed, “it’s just this damn leg. it’s been…a hassle really.”

“have you been elevating it?” you asked, tilting your head at your coworker.

“when i can,” he said with a small smile. your concern for him softened his frustrated demeanor. “it’s hard though, alone at home. especially because i have to do everything myself,” he said, licking his lips and running a hand through his hair. “i-uh barely have time to…take care of myself, and when i do, it hurts to stand on my leg for that long,” he whispered nervously, not knowing how you’d react to him.

“take care of yourself how?”

spencer’s cheeks reddened. “i uh you know what? it’s not appropriate, i’m sorry i mentioned anything at all. let’s just not talk about it, yeah?” he said, going back to looking at the file.

your eyes widened as you realized what spencer had meant. you quickly composed yourself, clearing your throat and going back to what you were doing. though with the redness of your own cheeks, it was obvious to tell that his words had some sort of effect on you.

the day went by without anymore conversation with you and spencer which bothered you a bit. it most certainly had felt awkward after that. though you couldn’t help but think about the idea of spencer trying to get himself off, jerking himself off. it was likely he did it most in the shower judging by how this job has early days and very late nights.

today, being the rare day that it was, everyone had gone home at 5:30 PM. when you had gone home, your thoughts were still on spencer. wet, long hair clinging to his skin as he leans on his bathroom wall, looking down at his cock, jerking himself off. you could imagine just how hard it was to stand that long on his leg, especially since you doubted he brought his cane into the shower with him.

around 8:00 PM, you decided it was time to be a good friend and help spencer with his issue.

you knocked on the door of spencer’s apartment. you stood there a bit anxiously, biting your lip as you waited for him to answer. you were wearing the clothes you had worn to work, a black pencil skirt and a red blouse. your hair was down. after a few minutes, you heard the tapping of spencer’s cane before it stopped and he opened the door. his eyes widened as he saw you, not expecting you to be at his apartment.

spencer was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a FBI sweatshirt. you licked your lips nervously, looking at spencer. “oh!” he exclaimed. “y/n, what are you-“ he cleared his throat as he realized his voice was a bit too high. “what are you doing here?”

you took a deep breath. there was no backing down now. “can i come in?” you asked, looking at spencer. he moved to the side, allowing you to come into his apartment. you stepped inside and he closed the door behind you.

he walked over to the couch, taking a seat. you looked around the apartment before you turned to look at your coworker. “so,” you began. “when you told me, you’d been…struggling,” you continued, “i thought perhaps…i could help you.”

“w-what?” he stuttered, looking at you with his beautiful big brown eyes.

you walked over to spencer, your heels clicking on the wooden floor, before you kneels in front of him, between his legs. “i-i could help you if you let me,” you said softly, looking up at him. you put your hands on spencer’s thighs.

spencer licked his lips, looking down at you with a look you’ve not seen before. you could tell that your words had an effect on him, judging by the fact that he was already semi-hard in his sweatpants. “i-is this real?” he whispered.

you nodded your head. “yes,” you whispered back.

“i-if we do this, it’ll effect our whole dynamic,” he whispered, reaching a hand to move your hair out of your face.

you looked up at him, biting your lip. “i want you, spence,” you exclaimed softly. “and you need help. i want to help you,” you said as you moved your hand higher. you began palming him through his sweatpants, causing spencer to moan softly. “can i help you?”

spencer nodded his head, bucking his hips into your hand. “yes,” he said shakily. “please.”

you let out a breath of relief as spencer had given you. you put your hand on the hem of his sweatpants, pulling them down enough to reveal his cock. spencer let out a gasp from the cool air on his cock. it was red and angry, a signal that he hadn’t had relief in a while. his cock was long but not girthy. about seven inches or so in length. you smiled slightly, looking at spencer’s reddened face as he looked down at you.

you gave his cock an experimental tug, causing him to let out a small whimper. the sound was like heaven to your ears. the genius fbi profiler had been reduced to a whimpering mess by a simple tug of his cock. and it was powerful.

you lowered your head, giving the tip an experimental lick. spencer let out a shaky moan, bringing a hand to your hair. you slowly eased your mouth onto his length, stopping about halfway before going back up. your mouth moved up and down slowly, creating a rhythm as spencer whined and moaned, bucking his hips into your mouth.

it was all very new. you’ve of course done this before with other partners. but to do this with your coworker, someone you’ve had a crush on since you began at the BAU, it’s most certainly surreal. and clearly, spencer needed the help. so really you were just being a dedicated coworker.

“oh-oh fuck,” spencer moaned as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking his cock a bit faster. “feels so good,” he whined, closing his eyes in pleasure and throwing his head back. his fingers were entangled in your hair as you sucked him off, tugging at your hair gently. “mm!” he moaned. you hadn’t expected spencer to be so vocal but you didn’t mind it at all. it sent pools of arousal to your cunt, soaking your panties.

spencer began thrusting his hips into your mouth, unable to help himself from doing so and you allowed him to. what you were doing was for him. and if he wanted to use you for his pleasure, you were more than allowing him to do so. “oh my god,” he groaned, thrusting his hips up into you. “your mouth feels so good, y/n,” he said as he opened his eyes to look down at you. your messed up hair, your glistening eyes looking up at spencer, you were absolutely gorgeous.

spencer felt his cock stiffening as the heat in his abdomen grew bigger. he let out a loud trail of, “oh fuck, oh fuck, i’m so close, oh fuck.” he was about to pull out of your mouth but instead, you kept him in your mouth, sucking him off to completion. spencer let out a whine as he began cumming into your mouth with ropes. “oh my god,” he said, shuttering as his load shot down your throat. and being the good girl that you were, you swallowed greedily.

when spencer finished, you pulled off of his cock, leaving a trail of saliva and cum. spencer was breathing heavily, looking at you with a look of lust and gratefulness. he caressed your cheek, running a thumb across your bottom lip before bringing it up to his own mouth and licking it. “thank you,” he murmured to you, grabbing your hand to pull you onto his lap. you were careful to not hurt his leg at all.

“anytime,” you murmured back.

“i think i should show you how thankful i am,” he said before kissing your lips hungrily. and that kiss began a night of immense pleasure to the both of you.

it was safe to say that the two of you were no longer just coworkers anymore.

[souliebird]

[[and then i met you || ch.1]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary: A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s.

a/n: Reader is an extremely anxious person. That’s the note.

words: 5.6k

You hope Matthew Michael Murdock is a good man. 

You tried to research him online, but you didn't find anything that could sway you one way or another.

The news articles say he's some sort of local hero - not only for being a lawyer who does a lot of pro-bono work but for saving a man from being hit by a truck when he was a kid. They all give his tragic backstory before praising him and his law partner for helping the underprivileged and going after some big shot corrupt businessman - twice. The comments are mostly from people he's helped, singing about how Nelson and Murdock saved them in their times of crisis. 

You want to trust them, but you can't.

The news also claimed Hitler was Person of the Year and deserved praise, too, and you know how that turned out. Not that you think a blind lawyer from Hell's Kitchen can be compared to a genocidal leader, but your mental point to yourself still stands. 

You know nothing about Matthew Murdock except he's blind, he's a lawyer, and his dick changed your life. 

You doubt he even remembers you - a one-night stand from years ago, before his name even started appearing in the news again, and to be fair, you didn't remember him at first, either. Not until four months later when you went in to get your anxiety medication adjusted and the doctor made you take a routine pregnancy test. Then you remembered the handsome blind lawyer who flirted with you at a friend's holiday party you had gone to. You could remember the silly conversation you had about white elephant, that he had the most charming smile, and he could do things with his tongue that made you moan just thinking about, but you could not remember his name. 

You had tried to find him, you really did, but your energy and attention was quickly needed elsewhere and the search for your daughter's father lost steam.

Until you saw him on the television while at the local diner, giving an interview with his law partner. 

That was yesterday and now you are standing outside the door of his firm, trying to work up the courage to go in. 

There's too many scenarios in your head, all of them bad- he's not going to want anything to do with you and your daughter, which you can deal with, or maybe, just maybe, he'll try to take her away from you. He's a lawyer and you work in billing for a transportation company. There's no doubt who the courts would choose and it wouldn't be you. 

The thought makes you want to turn and run but you know your daughter deserves the chance to know her father - and he deserves to know she exists. It's his choice, once he knows, if he wants to be in her life or not, not yours. 

It scares you so much it's not your choice. 

You scrub at your face, trying to work up the courage to actually open the door in front of you when it does just that. 

A kind looking woman with strawberry blonde hair is standing in the doorway and you recognize her from the firm's website - Karen Page. She's the third partner in the firm and you didn't really look into her in your hunt for information. 

She offers you a smile before speaking, "You look like you're debating coming in." You shrug, unsure what to say because that is exactly what you were doing but don't want to admit it. She looks you over without it feeling judgmental before focusing on the manila envelope in your hand. She steps back slightly and gestures for you to come into the office. "You made it this far. Whatever it is, we'll do our best to help you."

The sentiment is so kind and you know she means well, thinking you are a potential client, but it just causes your throat to get even tighter. 

It has been you and your daughter for so long, is this really the right path to take? 

You hug your file to your chest and take a hesitant step forward. Then another and another until you are in the office. It's not big or fancy and you didn't expect it to be. There's a little waiting area in front of the reception desk, with another desk shoved against a wall, and on either side of the room, doors leading to what you suspect are the private offices. 

Karen goes around to the back of the reception desk and picks up a clipboard holding some paperwork and offers it out to you.

You take it and stare down at it, unsure if you would fill it out or not. When you look back up, Karen is still smiling at you and you don't want to come off as a problem, so you take a seat in the waiting area and start filling out the requested information. As you write out your address, it finally occurs to you that you have no idea how to have the conversation you need to have.

Do you ease into it or drop it on him like a bomb? You had only ever thought about finding him and never about what you would say when you did.

You should have taken more time to plan this out. You're such an idiot - you just jumped right into running towards him like you might lose track of him if you took so much as a second to think. You know his name now, who he is, you can take time to get things sorted out properly.

Would it be weird to leave in the middle of filling out paperwork you shouldn't even be bothering with?

Probably not, but you're already here. There is no point in running. 

This is for your daughter, not you. You have to keep telling yourself that.

You don't fill out the information asking about your 'case'. It honestly makes you panic a bit if you start thinking about it all in a legal sense - you know nothing about law and the man you're meeting with graduated at the top of his class from a top law school. Your hand is shaking as you add your signature to the bottom of the page and date it. Reviewing everything takes just a moment, since there's barely anything written to begin with, and your eyes drift up to the logo at the top of the page.

Nelson, Murdock, and Page.

You trace it with your finger.

Matthew Murdock has to be a good man. This firm helps people and he wouldn't be here if he didn't want to help people. He graduated top of his class; he could work anywhere he wanted to. The papers said he is good, too - they win most of their cases. 

Unless it's all a weird front to hide something like money laundering. 

But if they were money launders wouldn't they have enough money to afford an air conditioner? 

"All done?" 

Karen is in front of you, smiling politely. You are surprised by her appearance, but you don't feel pressured. It's like she's checking in so that she can break you out of your thoughts and you appreciate that. You nod and hand her the clipboard. She takes it, giving it a once over.

"Foggy will be out in just a minute."

Your head jerks up at that.

"No, I need to see Mr. Murdock."

You can tell Karen is surprised by that and her eyes narrow just a fraction. She searches your face, then she looks towards the door on the left. 

You turn your head to follow her gaze. 

"Matt!" Karen calls out.

A few moments pass before the door opens and you feel like you're going to throw up. 

The cameras don't do him justice. 

Matthew Murdock is gorgeous. He was handsome before and somehow, he just got hotter. He's a little taller than you, still as lean as you remember, and looking crisp in a gray suit - like some model walked off the catwalk and into a sweltering office. His hair is shorter than you remember it being. You have the distinct memory of being able to grab onto it, but it's too cropped to do that now.

But the thing that catches your attention the most is that in person and in the light, you can see Matthew's hair has an auburn tint to it.

Just like Minnie's. 

The realization shakes your entire world. 

This man is the father of your child. He's real. He's no longer a concept of a person, who you knew nothing about, who just existed somewhere in the world. 

You have to look away before you start to cry. You don't know where this surge of emotion is coming from - it feels like this wave of relief. This question you have always had finally has an answer. 

You tell yourself to take a breath, you know getting overly emotional isn't going to help anything. It might actually make things worse and spiraling into a meltdown is not a good first impression.

You can see Karen in your peripheral vision, and you look up to her, trying to regain your focus.

It's Matthew who speaks first, "Yes, Karen?"

"We have a walk-in who is hoping she can speak with you." 

You introduce yourself, standing up as you do. You know he is blind, so you don't offer your hand. Instead you clutch your folder to your chest. 

He doesn't seem to remember your name. He turns towards you and gives a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Matthew Murdock, but you seem to know that. I have some time right now, please come in. Karen, can you grab us some water before you join us?"

"Yeah, sure," Karen says as she turns to do just that. 

Your throat gets tight again. 

You don't want to have this conversation with someone else there. It's already going to be hard enough. You'll definitely start crying if Karen is in the room. You cannot deal with two people's reactions. The mere thought of you having to do that is making you sweat. 

Matthew's voice breaks you out of your panic. "If that is okay?"

You rush out your response, "I would prefer to speak alone, please." You're too panicked to feel embarrassment. 

Karen doesn't seem phased by this. She is still grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and offering one out to you. You take it. 

"Not a problem, let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Kare. Please, come this way," Matthew motions for you to follow him into the office. 

This is it.

Once you go through that door, you aren't leaving that room without telling Matthew Murdock he is a father. 

You surprise yourself by not hesitating and just charging forward into the office. 

This isn't about you or your fears. 

This is for Minnie. 

You keep your gaze forward because you can't bring yourself to look at him. If you stop and look at him before you tell him why you are here, you will just start over analyzing everything once again. You silently beg to whatever gods will listen that everything will be okay, and this man won't destroy you. 

He doesn't look like he is going to break your heart. 

But you know that looks mean nothing when it comes to pain. 

He closes the door behind you with an audible click and the weight of the moment starts to come down on your shoulders.

You take the seat in front of the desk quickly, worried your nerves might catch up with you, placing the water on the ground beside you with your purse when you sit. Matthew doesn't rush, he walks to his desk with an air of quiet confidence and if you were a client, it would be comforting, but you aren't and all it does is remind you why you fell into bed with him. 

"What brings you in today, Miss..?" He trails off, prompting you to say your name again. As he reaches his desk you watch as he trails his fingers along the edge, using it as a guide, before moving his hand to brush over the back of his seat before sitting in it. 

You chew your bottom lip, wishing you had taken a second to actually plan what you would say instead of jumping in. As far as you know, there isn't a step-by-step guide on how to tell a one-night stand that he's the father of your child - not that you actually looked into that in your desperate research the night before. 

Matthew doesn't push as you gather your thoughts. He moves some paperwork away from the center of his desk, then folds his hands there, waiting. You keep your gaze on his hands, needing something to focus your eyes on while you force the truth out.

"I saw your interview last night," you say, deciding to start there, as it seems the most relatable.

Matthew's brows knit together and he tilts his head to the side and you are one again reminded of Minnie. It's a gesture she does often, tilting her little head left and right as she tries to understand something. It always reminded you of a dog and now you wonder if it's not a learned behavior, but genetic. 

His lips turn down into a frown and his head stays cocked as he asks, "Do you have information about the Lynch case?"

Heat rushes to your cheeks - of course that would be the question to ask after bringing up the interview. The whole piece was about a specific case they were working on and how it would affect Hell's Kitchen and you hadn't paid any attention to what was said - not after you realized who was on the screen. 

You shake your head, resisting the urge to look away and you curl your fingers tighter around the manila folder in your lap. "No, I'm sorry. I saw you and…recognized you."

He straightens up and his demeanor shifts to something less…friendly. It's minute but your messed-up brain screams at you about body language - his shoulders have squared up and you can see where he's clenching his back teeth. You quickly continue on, wanting to get through with your explanation before your anxiety makes you clam up.

"We met nearly five years ago," your voice is firm and factual and you're proud of yourself for that, "at a holiday party." 

The words leave your mouth and you know he knows. Every part of him seems to go still - even his breathing seems to stop. The crease between his brow smoothes out, like he's gone from squinting to wide eyes behind his dark glasses. Your heart is pounding in your ears and your throat is getting stiff, but your voice remains steady as you push the words out.

"I think you are the father of my child."

All the color seems to leave Matthew's face and he looks nearly as gray as his suit. The reaction makes your stomach turn. He looks like he is going to throw up. 

You bite into your lip, waiting for Matthew to do or say something. All you can do is mentally chant to yourself: he's a good man, he won't take her away.

You know it's probably just seconds, but it feels like hours pass before Matthew moves.

He leans slowly back in his chair, reaching up with one hand to rub at his mouth. 

"Are you sure?"

He doesn't sound upset, at least to your ears. His words are cautious - tentative - and it makes your heart go tight in your chest. You don't know if it's fear or hope or everything crashing into you at once now that he knows.

You force out a nod before you remember that the man in front of you is blind. You find your voice and words creep out.

"I'm pretty sure," you start. Your eyes drop away from his hands back down to your lap and you have to lick at your lips to wet them before continuing, "I didn't go out much after that party, I got so busy with work. I didn't…find out until the first trimester was over. By then, I couldn't remember your name. My friends who I went to the party with didn't know you either. I tried to Google you with what information I had, but 'blind lawyer' just got me a lot of disability lawyers." You take a shaky breath, "I understand if you want a paternity test."

You know Matthew is probably taking everything in, but now that you've started talking, it's like you've lifted the dam on your anxiety. You squeeze the file in your lap - just because you hadn't known how you were going to tell Matthew the truth did not mean you hadn't extensively thought about the consequences. Words start to spill out of you.

"I also understand if you don't want anything to do with us, I get it's a big shock. I'm not looking for anything from you." Matthew drops his hand to the desk and if you didn't know better, it would look like he was staring at you. "I just wanted you to know and I thought it would be good for her to know you, but if you don't want that, I get it. All I ask is you fill out some paperwork, medical history mostly so I know if there's anything I need to look out for. I printed it out for you, it's all in braille." 

You get up just enough so that you can place the manila envelope on the desk, then sit back down. Your throat is getting so tight and stiff you feel like you're struggling to breathe. 

Matthew runs his hand over his desk until he can feel the envelope. His fingers move along the edge and you stare at them, like they are going to be the one to reveal what Matthew is thinking instead of his mouth. He finds the lip but doesn't open, instead flattening his palm against it.

"...her?"

His voice is so quiet you barely hear it. You lift your head to finally look at him and your heart skips a beat.

Matthew looks so soft. The corners of his lips twitch a few times before a smile slowly spreads across his face. 

And you know.

You know without a doubt he is your daughter's father. They have the exact same smile. You can't help but to grin as well. 

This is good, isn't it? He looks Happy. 

"I have a daughter.."

"Winifred.. Winifred Love," you offer. Matthew lifts his head and tilts it towards you, brow wrinkling slightly.

"Love…?" He asks, no judgment in his voice, only curiosity. 

You close your eyes in a bit of embarrassment, as you always do during the story, "I meant to put Grace, but I was out of it. I even put a big heart next to it on the paperwork." You aren't ashamed of the story and you love your daughter's name, but it's always a 'oops I was high' moment, even if it was done with the purest intention. 

If possible, Matthew's smile gets even bigger. 

"Winifred Love," he says, his voice dropping back down to the barely there whisper. 

"She goes by Minnie. Like, um.. Like Minnie Mouse," you say. That gets an amused yet fond chuckle. You find yourself relaxing at the noise - like some of the pressure squeezing on your lungs has been lifted and you can finally breathe. 

He repeats her nickname and you feel your lips start to turn up. 

"How old..?" His voice cracks with emotion and Matthew has to clear his throat before continuing, "how old is she?"

"Three and a half," you answer quickly, "her birthday is a few months away." You bite your lip then hesitantly add, "She wants to go to the zoo. It's all she talks about."

"Yeah?" Matthew prompts. His smile is so so soft and it makes your stomach turn in this pleasant way. However, you were expecting him to act, this is not it. In your heart, you think the best you were going for was acceptance, but this seems much more than that. There is a stinging in the corner of your eyes and you have to take your own steadying breath continuing on.

"Yeah, um.. She…likes maps right now. I got her a map to the zoo and she's got the whole day planned." Which is very much true - your coffee table has been the home of a makeshift zoo diorama for a little over a week now and the itinerary has changed about twenty times. 

 Matthew ducks his head and nods a little, taking all the information in. You squeeze your fingers in your lap, needing a way to release the nerves still buzzing inside you. 

A few moments pass before Matthew clears his throat again, "What else does she like..?"

The question makes you chuckle just a little bit, only because gushing about your daughter is something you're very good at. Since you work at home, it is just the two of you ninety percent of the time, you don't get to coo over her very often.

"She loves arts and crafts - anything she can get her little hands on. Right now she loves pipe cleaners and paper, things she can bend and fold, you know? I set her next to me while working and she'll just fold paper into little shapes. Not origami or anything, just abstract things, she doesn't plan it. She always wants to help, too, whatever I'm doing. Cooking and cleaning. She is the best helper for grocery shopping." You pause, looking over Matthew's smile for a moment before continuing on, tears starting to gather in your eyes.

 "She looks just like you," you admit, fondness clear in your voice because it is so so true. Now that you are properly looking at him, Minnie looks just like Matthew, and telling him that makes him light up even more. "You've got the same smile. The same hair. Hers is a little more red, but it's definitely from you."

You watch Matthew lick at his lips and you want to know what is going on in his head. You think everything is going well, even if you are on the verge of crying. They are tears of relief - relief you weren't told to fuck off or to go get your own lawyer. You don't fully know if Matthew Murdock is a good man, but you're over the first hurdle and the prospects are looking good. 

Matthew leans back into his chair, inhaling deeply, as if centering himself, then asks, "Why now? Why find me now?"

"Like I said, I couldn't find you, I didn't know anything about you, really, except what you looked like and you were a lawyer. I did try, I really did, but…" you trail off with a shrug, "I had a newborn."

Matthew seems to accept that answer - it is the truth after all - and continues on, "But you saw the interview... Last night?"

You nod, "I was picking up some dinner and they were playing the news at the diner. I saw it and looked you up and now…now you know."

"Now I know…" Matthew repeats slowly, his smile dropping a little and you wonder if is hitting him in different waves, like it did you - the realization he is a father. You know it is an intense roller coaster and you are not going to try to guide his ride, especially after just kind of dropping it on him. 

He taps the manila folder in front of him, the crease returning to his brow, "What is this?"

Your cheeks get hot again and you turn your gaze away from him and back to your lap, "Requests for family medical history and information about how to establish paternity, if that's what you want."

"It is," Matthew rushes out. Your head jerks up and his expression looks serious, "I want that. I want to be in her life."

He sounds so sure of himself that it makes your head spin a little. You built up in your mind he either wouldn't want anything to do with you and Minnie or he was going to try to take her away - you hadn't really considered the obvious option that Matthew would just want to be involved. At least, that is what you are hoping he is implying. 

"I won't abandon my daughter," the conviction in his voice startles you, but it also makes your heart twist but in a good way because in that moment, you believe him. "And I won't abandon you. I used to question if I had the right to bring a child into my life, but this isn't a hypothetical anymore…. And I can't.." he trails off and leans back into his chair, rubbing at his mouth again. You don't press, you have no right to when you've come out of the blue and changed his entire world. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I can't step away now that I know she is out there." 

You quickly shake your head at his words, "You don't need to rush into anything, I mean it, I don't want anything from you but for you to have the chance to know her. We can go slow, she's still little, you know? She can't handle a big change. Start small?"

You're more worried about how he is feeling versus what you are. You have at least prepared yourself to have a reaction - he thought he would be having a normal work day and you've given him a lot to process in the last five minutes. 

"We can go at your pace, Matthew."

He drops his hand from his face, a smile coming back to his face, "You can call me Matt."

You repeat your preferred name, then apologize, "I'm sorry for coming out of nowhere. I didn't want to lose track of you again, but I could have scheduled an appointment."

Matt shakes his head a little, "No, I get it." His hand goes back to the envelope, like touching it is grounding him like squeezing your fingers is grounding you. "I'm glad you came…I'm glad…thank you. Thank you for telling me." 

Part of you wants to reach across the desk and squeeze his hand, to give him comfort and let him know everything will be okay, but you don't dare. He's still a stranger, despite everything. You decide pushing past the emotional to the practical might be the best approach for now. You need to get your anxiety to settle now that you know your world isn't going to end and the best thing for that, in your mind, is getting an action plan. 

"I don't know what the steps are for doing this," you start, trying to think up ideas as you talk, "but I think maybe we could…get together again and plan things out? Give you time to adjust to the idea and let you think about how you want to move forward?"

Matt nods along with your words, "That sounds like a good idea." 

You bend down to grab your phone out of your purse, "I put my contact information in the packet, but could I get yours?" 

He waits until you are ready, then gives you his personal number then the office number. You do the quick song and dance of calling his phone, so that he has your number and you wait patiently as he adds you as a contact. Hearing the voice commands to navigate a phone is new to you and once he is done putting in your information, you let your curiosity get the better of you.

"Do you prefer texting or phone calls?"

"Phone calls would be preferable," Matt says as he sets his phone on his desk, having held it up to speak clearly into it, "I have text to speech but it's not always the easiest for texting." 

You nod in understanding, "Got it." You squirm in your seat, unsure of what comes next, so you say the very first thing that comes to mind. "You can call anytime. I work from home so you don't have to worry about interrupting anything…like I'm doing with you."

He hums, then asks, "What does Minnie do during the day?" 

"She stays with me, mostly. There's a daycare down the block she goes to if I need someone to watch her. That's where she is now."

That makes Matt frown just slightly and part of you panics that he disapproves. "Is it just the two of you…?"

"Yes." 

You say it with confidence. You've worked hard to get where you are alone and despite all you've been through, you are proud of that. "My parents passed when I was in college and I don't have any siblings. We've managed to do pretty well on our own. It's not the biggest, but we have a little place in Chelsea."

The little frown stays and you don't know what it means - you hope it's over you not having a big support system and not something else. Matt looks like he is going to respond but a knock at the door cuts him off. You jump at the noise, having totally forgotten there were other people in the office. 

Matt looks slightly annoyed when he calls out, "Yes?"

The door opens and the final partner for the law firm is there. "Pardon the intrusion," he says to you with a nod before addressing Matt, "They've got that guy from last week at the 15th. He's asking for us specifically."

Matt openly scowls before running a hand over his face, "Okay. Give me a few minutes."

Foggy nods before stepping back out and closing the door.

"I'm sorry," Matt says sheepishly.

You cut him off before he can say more, standing as you do, "Please don't be, I really did just barge in on you at work. I can call you later? Or you can call me?" 

Matt gets up as well, starting to come around the desk, "I can call you." He hesitates just a second, then ducks his chin, that little smile reappearing and your heart does that funny flip again. "Maybe we can get lunch?"

You smile back, "I would like that. We can start planning." You bite your bottom lip, then add, "I can bring Minnie…?"

Matt's entire face lights up and the awkwardness of trying to end your talk evaporates. "I would like that. A lot." He motions to his desk, "I'll work on getting that back to you. I want to…I want to do this right." 

"I do, too." 

It feels like a promise. You want to believe Matt - that he wants this and won't disappear at the first minor inconvenience. You've read so many horror stories about bad parents and you don't want any of that for Minnie. 

You grab your purse and the water Karen gave you, then finally give Matt a proper look over. 

You enjoyed your night together with him. Not only had he been a phenomenal lover, but he had made you smile and laugh. You weren't nearly as anxious then as you are now, but you had been rather nervous being flirted with by a handsome lawyer and he had made you feel at ease. Bringing him home with you had been an easy choice. 

He must sense you smiling somehow, maybe you giggled or something, but his smile, which had started to fall, brightens back up.

"Can I ask you something before you go?" 

You nod to his question, catch yourself and reply, "Of course."

"Can you tell me what she looks like?"

Guilt courses through you and biting your lip turns painful, "I'm so sorry, of course. Um, I included pictures in the packet with descriptions but, of course." His face drops into something a little nervous so you launch into the description of your daughter, emphasizing how they have the same smile because you can’t get over that. You can't help yourself and start describing some of the pictures you included.

"She has this big noise canceling headband so she can sleep comfortably - she doesn't like loud noises - but because she is three, she refuses to wear it unless it's cute. So we crochet little sleeves for it. One of the pictures is her asleep on our couch, face down, because that's how she sleeps, wearing her favorite sleeve. It's Spider-Man the-"

There's a quick series of taps on the door before it opens again.

"Buddy, we gotta go."

You start to apologize, but Matt speaks over you, his voice a little firm as his expression drops, "I'll be right there, Foggy."

A silent conversation seems to go through them, as Foggy raises his eyebrows at Matt and Matt does the same right back. Foggy steps out of the office, closing the door behind him. 

"Let me walk you out?" Matt asks, motioning to the door.

"Thank you." 

You let him open the door and you follow him into the reception office. Foggy is looking at his phone while waiting by Karen's desk as she finishes packing her laptop. You cross the room in silence as Matt leads you from the office. Once you are in the hallway, he speaks to you in a soft voice.

"Can I call you tonight?"

"Yes, please." 

"Does eight work?"

"That's perfect." 

"I'll talk to you then."

You force yourself to be the one to turn away and start walking towards the stairs. As you get to them, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to try to suppress your smile.

Maybe the papers are right and Matthew Murdock is a good man. 

You really hope he's a good father too.

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐑 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x single mom!Reader

SUMMARY — James moves into a new apartment and finds a new friend in his neighbour across the hall

WARNINGS — mild descriptions of blood and injury, hospitals/hospitalization, a little angst and hurt comfort

NOTE — Guys this was supposed to be out Monday, I am so sorry, life is just not life-ing (ie. its midterm season) so enjoy this being posted as I am fighting for my life in cell bio. Also this has only been minorly edited by me so if there's any weird wording ot typos I apologize in advance

If no one had told you someone was moving into the apartment across the hall from you, you probably would have gone months without noticing anyone in there. You weren’t sure if your schedules were just not in sync or maybe he never really left his place. Regardless, it took at least two months before you met your new neighbour. 

When you did, it was a coincidence. You were leaving and he was coming back home. 

You both paused and stared at each other for a moment before rushing to introduce yourselves, only to accidentally talk over each other. 

After you both stopped, he motioned for you to go first. You gave him your name and made a stupid comment about how you hadn’t met until now. Maybe it wasn’t stupid because he laughed, or maybe he was just being nice. 

“I’m James,” he said. “And about not seeing me, well it probably doesn’t help that I leave at the crack of dawn and usually come back late.” 

“Oh, let me guess, doctor?” you asked and he nodded. “It was either that or day-shift stripper so I figured my odds were pretty good.” 

That made him laugh again and you smiled. 

“I hope you rest well before your next shift. Unfortunately, I have to head out. Duty calls.” 

“I’ll see you around,” he gave you a small three-fingered wave which you returned before jogging down the stairs. 

You didn’t think you’d have much reason to see him again, but accidents do happen. 

You knew sometimes you’d have the tendency to be a bit clumsy, but this was beyond that. Dropping your knife down next to the half cut vegetables, you looked around for something to wrap your hand in to stop the bleeding. 

You thought about your options, you could call an ambulance and pay the ridiculous fee, you could drive yourself to the ER and risk getting into an accident, or you could knock on your neighbour’s door and hope he was home. 

You sprung for option three, seeing as it was most immediate. 

Opening your door, barely even bothering to close it behind you, you knocked on James’ door, praying that he was home and would be able to help. 

It seemed as though your prayers were answered because you heard the lock click and the door open to a very confused looking James. 

“I am so sorry to bother you,” you started, “but I was making dinner and the knife slipped-,” 

“You cut yourself,” he filled in the blanks himself and you nodded, biting down on your tongue from the pain. “Come in, let me see if I can get you sorted.” 

He opened his door wider and you stepped into his apartment, an identical layout to yours, but differing in decor and furniture. 

He pulled back a chair at his small dining table for you to sit at and went to another room to grab something. 

He came back with a first aid kit and sat down in the chair next to you, opening the kit and grabbing a few things he knew he would need before pulling back the towel you had wrapped your hand in and examining the cut. 

“Wow, this is really deep,” he remarked. “You must be in a lot of pain.” 

“Yeah, trying really hard not to pay attention to it right now,” you nodded through gritted teeth. 

“Look, I don’t have a lot of stuff with me, but I think this lidocaine numbing spray should help a bit, but it will sting first,” he warned you and you nodded. 

He used the spray and you winced, but just as he said the pain slowly dissipated and soon all you could feel was a dull ache. He started by cleaning the wound and flushing it with some water and alcohol. 

“So what were you cooking?” he asked. 

“Trying to make just some chicken and potatoes, but of course my hand and the knife decide to slip at the same time,” you sighed. 

He pulled out a needle and some surgical thread next, determining what the best way to stitch you up was. 

“Do this often?” you asked. 

“Unfortunately for you, no I don’t,” he shook his head. “I work in oncology so I have to think a little harder about my stitching.” 

“As long as it’s free, take all the time you need,” you joked. 

“Oh, no one told you, my rate is 500$ a minute, I take cash or cheque,” he teased right back and you chuckled a bit. 

“How about I do you a favour when you need it and we call it even?” you asked and he nodded his head. 

“Seems equivalent. Alright, you’re gonna feel a light pinch,” he said and saw your face contort in discomfort and he quickly apologized. 

He tried to do the stitching as quickly as possible, and then covered it up with gauze and tape to make sure the stitches were protected. 

“You should probably come by again tomorrow so I can take a look and make sure everything’s okay and it isn’t infected,” he said. “I should be back around six.” 

“Sure, thanks again for this. It’s handy having a doctor next door,” you smiled. “Now I should probably go and clean all the blood off my counters and order something to eat.” 

“Hey, why don’t you just have a plate of food here before you go back?” James suggested. “I made extra.” 

“You sure? You already stitched me up and now you want me to eat your food?” 

“It’ll be nice company,” he assured you. “Unless you have someone you need to get back to.” 

“No, it’s just me right now,” you nodded. “I’ll stay, the blood can wait.” 

James served you a plate of the food he had made before grabbing his half-eaten dinner and joining you again at the dining room table. 

“So, um, you know what I do for work first hand now,” James started. “What about yourself?” 

“I like to say I’m a constant student of the world’s universal language,” you smiled to yourself, “but people don’t really know what I mean by that so usually stick to saying I’m a professor of mathematics.” 

“Wow,” James looked impressed. “You don’t really look like a math professor. All of mine were a little…crazy. I never would have guessed.” 

“Unfortunately not everyone can have Einstein’s hair,” you joked and James laughed. 

“Do you teach at Princeton then?” he asked and you nodded. “What a coincidence. I work at the teaching hospital.” 

“Oh, you must know Lisa then,” you grinned. “She’s a good friend of mine.” 

James nodded, “Such a small world.” 

“You’re telling me.” 

You continued to eat dinner and chat about various things, most pertaining to the school or your mutual connection through Lisa. By the end of the evening, when you wished him a good night and went back over to your apartment, a part of you was happy your hand would give you an excuse to see your neighbour once more. 

—

James stared blankly at his fridge wondering how he’d managed to go this long without buying any groceries. He could just eat out and put off shopping for another day, but he had time off and he probably should take advantage of it. 

Without much more thought, he grabbed his house key and his coat, deciding to go to the grocery store just down the street, it would be a nice walk in the afternoon sun. When he opened his door, he saw you standing outside with a few empty grocery bags in hand. 

“You heading down to the store?” he asked and you nodded with a smile. 

“You too?” 

“I don’t have the hardware,” he pointed to your bags. “But the fridge is empty, so yeah, I figured it was about time to do a grocery run. How’s your hand doing?” 

“A lot better than last week. Thanks for asking,” you looked down at your bandaged palm. “Excited to be able to take this off.” 

Just as James was about to say goodbye and wish you a good rest of your afternoon, your door opened and a young girl stepped out. 

“Mom, I can’t do up my zipper, it keeps getting stuck,” she grumbled. 

“Here, let me give you a hand with that,” you bent down and put the grocery bags to the side, helping her out with the finicky zipper. “Maybe we need to get you a new jacket, this one’s starting to get a bit tight, huh?” 

The girl nodded and thanked you for your help by giving you a kiss on the cheek. 

“Mom, who’s that?” she pointed to James and you chuckled a little. 

“I was just about to introduce you two,” you said. “Nadia, this is James, James this is Nadia. My daughter.” 

“Nice to meet you, Nadia,” James waved and she waved back. 

“Are you friends with my mom?” she asked. 

“I-I think so,” James nodded. 

“Yeah, we’re friends,” you agreed. 

“If he’s your friend can he come over for dinner tonight?” Nadia asked. 

You looked in between your daughter and James once a few times before saying, 

“You know, I think it’s his day off, I’m not too sure if he had plans already.” 

James shoved his hand in his pockets and asked, 

“And what if I don’t have plans?”

You bit back a small smile, “Then I would say, do you want to come get groceries and have dinner with us tonight?” 

“I’d love to.” 

“Nice,” Nadia grinned. “That means we get dessert.” 

You scoffed and looked down at your daughter, “Is that what this was all about?” 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged her shoulders innocently and you shook your head, locking the door behind you and beginning to walk down the stairs, Nadia leading the way and James at your side. 

“You never mentioned you had a daughter,” James said quietly while you walked down the sidewalk, Nadia running ahead to press the button for the crosswalk. 

“Never came up,” you shrugged. “She was with her dad both times you saw me before.” 

“She’s cute,” James said simply. “Looks a lot like her mom.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled, trying to ignore the warm feeling rising up in your cheeks. 

You watched as Nadia came running back up to you both and tapped James on the arm. 

“Do you like apple crumble and ice cream?” she asked. 

“I do,” James nodded. “I used to make it with my mom when I was around your age.” 

“My mom makes it with me too,” Nadia grinned. “Can we have that for dessert tonight?” 

“Sure, if they have the granny smith apples, if not maybe we can make a peach cobbler instead,” you suggested and Nadia agreed, taking your hand and dragging you towards the store so you could get the ingredients faster. 

You and James did your shopping in parallel and would both send Nadia on small quests to retrieve some things you needed to keep her busy. 

“You’re pretty good with kids,” you commented after he had told Nadia about her next ‘top secret mission’. 

“Comes a bit with the job,” he said, sifting through the peppers on the produce stand to find a few good ones. “It’s nice to be reminded every once in a while that not all kids are going through treatment.” 

“I don’t know how you’d be able to see that every day,” you shook your head and sighed. “I would be a wreck if Nadia was in the hospital.” 

“Well, let’s hope that never happens.” 

“James! I got the berries!” Nadia came speeding back and handed him the basket of strawberries before taking a moment to catch her breath. 

“Wow, that was fast,” he grinned. “Come on, I think it’s about time we go pay for all this stuff.” 

You weren’t sure whether it was slight of hand or if James had an in with the cashier, but he managed to pay for the groceries, insisting it was just paying for dinner, so to even it out you slipped 50$ to the cashier to pay for his things. 

“It’s not really letting me pay for dinner if you just pay for my stuff too,” he teased you as you walked home. 

“If you’re really that set on paying me back you can come help me and Nadia cook. Maybe make sure I don’t cut my hand again,” you waved your bandaged hand in the air. 

“Alright,” he conceded. “I’ll be over as soon as I drop these off.” 

When you got home, you and Nadia quickly cleared up a few of her toys from the living room and a few minutes later, as expected, James’ knock echoed through the apartment. Nadia beat you to the door and grabbed James’ hand, bringing him to the kitchen and shutting the door behind them. 

“Since you know how to make the crumble you can wash and peel the apples,” Nadia instructed. 

“Is this okay with mom?” James asked. 

“I’ve tried your cooking before, it’s okay with me,” you nodded. “Nadia, hon, do you want to help with the salad? Like I taught you?” 

She nodded her head and went to wash her hands quickly before standing up on a stool so she could reach the counter and cut the vegetables. 

“Be very careful with the knife, okay? Don’t make the same mistake mom did otherwise James is gonna start asking for our medical insurance,” you teased and Nadia gave you the classic, 

“I know, I know. I’ve done this like a million times.” 

“Well, let’s make it a million and one without accidents,” James added and you mouthed a thank you to him. 

Nadia was chopping away and bossing all of you around like she was head chef at a restaurant, all the while interrogating James about his work at the hospital and how he ended up in the apartment across the hall. 

“Where did you live before?” she asked. 

“Uh, kind of close to where your mom works,” he said. “In a house with a nice apple tree in the front yard.” 

“So why did you move to an apartment then?” 

James chuckled. “Good question. I um, I used to be married, but I’m not anymore so I decided to move somewhere different.” 

“Like mom and dad,” Nadia nodded her head in understanding. 

“Yeah, a bit like your mom and dad, I guess,” he agreed. “Do you like it in this building?” 

“Yeah,” Nadia nodded. “And mom cooks better than dad, but don’t tell him that.” 

“It’ll be our little secret,” James winked and finished mixing the apples with cinnamon, sugar, and a few other spices and ingredients. 

Dinner was ready within the next hour and dessert followed soon after, much to Nadia’s excitement. 

“Okay, moment of truth,” James sucked some air through his teeth as he served Nadia a plate with some ice cream on the side.

She dug into it and put on her best thinking face before giving a big thumbs up and a smile. 

“Phew,” James sat back down in his seat and Nadia giggled at his exaggeration. He finished serving you and himself before putting the ice cream back in your freezer so it wouldn’t melt. 

“So, did you enjoy your day off?” you asked. 

“More than I was expecting to,” he nodded. “Thank you guys for having me over.” 

“Maybe you can come again next time I’m back with mom?” Nadia suggested. “Can we have dinner with James?” 

“I mean, if he wants to I have no objection,” you agreed with her. 

“I’ll mark it in my calendar.” 

Nadia quietly celebrated and said something about having dessert every time and you gave her a warning look that only encouraged her to continue to be cheeky. 

Dessert was followed by a sugar rush, and crash and while Nadia snored on the couch you were saying goodbye to James and thanking him for spending the day. 

“She really likes you,” you looked over at your sleeping daughter on the couch. 

“Feeling’s mutual,” he smiled softly. 

“You know, if you ever want company or a friend, my door’s always open,” you told him. “Even if it’s just someone to sit in silence with you at the end of a long day.” 

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” 

“And I’m sorry about your divorce,” you said. “If I can say one thing it’s just that it gets better. Eventually.”

He nodded his head and gave you a sad smile. 

“Helps when you have a friend who understands,” he patted your arm and wished you goodnight walking across the hall and disappearing behind the door. 

—

The couch was your favourite place to grade assignments and midterms. Final exams needed something a little more substantial considering how long they’d take when you didn’t have a teaching assistant helping you. 

You didn’t know how many cups of coffee you’d gone through when you heard the knock on your door. 

“It’s James,” you heard through the other side. “A little birdy told me you were stuck grading all day.” 

“Come in,” you called back and he opened the unlocked door and slipped inside, coming to join you on the couch. 

“I brought you a pick me up but I see that may send you into cardiac arrest,” he looked over at your many mugs littering the table. 

“I have a weird thing about making coffee in the same cup,” you shook your head. “And I will take that,” you grabbed the to-go mug out of his hands, taking a sip of the piping hot drink. “God, sometimes when I’m writing these tests I forget I have to grade them too.” 

James chuckled and looked over at the papers laid out on the coffee table. 

“Why don’t you take a short break. No one expects you to get all the exams back the day after midterms,” he said. 

“Yeah, but my TA expects me to grade all the long proofs so that they can do their part and grade the short answer stuff,” you sighed. “But you’re right I should take a break before I start taking marks off for using a weird letter as a variable, or something more complicated than that, I don’t know I can barely think straight anymore.” 

James took the coffee and midterm out of your hands, putting them on the table, letting you lean back further into the couch and close your eyes for two seconds. 

“Is Nadia with her dad?” he asked. 

“Yeah, visiting her grandparents,” you nodded. “I hope they don’t fill her head with too much nonsense.” 

James looked at you a little confused so you explained further, “They hated me, don’t know why. Maybe because they expected Mike to have a stay at home wife, but after we graduated I wanted more.” 

“So you went to get your master’s and doctorate,” James filled in and you nodded. 

“They thought I was trying to make their son look stupid, but they grossly overestimated my motives,” you chuckled humourlessly. “I’m just really nerdy and like math. I wanted to learn more so I did.”

“And what did your ex think?” he asked. 

“Mike…he’s an interesting guy,” you shrugged. “I don’t think he’s a bad person, he was just a bad husband for me. He’s a decent dad, he’s there for Nadia, but he wasn’t there for me when I needed him to be.” you shared. “What about you? What went wrong there?” 

“The first time or the second?” he asked with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“No kids I’m guessing,” you said and he shook his head.

“First time, I was working two jobs to keep us afloat while she was at an unpaid internship. We both had terrible communication skills, and shouldn't have been married in the first place. The second time, I think I screwed that one up.” 

He ran a hand through his hair before letting both his hands rest in his lap. 

“Marriage is hard as hell,” you sighed. “I mean I wasn’t much of a picnic for Mike either.” 

“You don’t have to try and make me feel better,” he assured you. “Although I appreciate the sentiment.” 

“I’m serious. A marriage goes two ways and yeah sure, one person can screw up bigger than the other, but it’s not that one person is perfect and the other isn’t,” you said. 

James pursed his lips and leaned forward, his arms resting against his legs. He wished it was that simple. 

“Okay, my goal was not to bring down the mood,” James finally said. “This was supposed to be a fun work break.” 

“I hate to tell you you’re failing miserably at the fun part,” you teased. 

“Alright, then tell me why you decided to study math, of all the things you could have learnt about, why did math speak to you the most?” 

“Katherine Johnson,” you said and yawned, rubbing your eyes. “I read about her in some random book in the library and I realized that numbers are what make everything in the world work. If she could send a rocket ship to space using math, then she had a superpower and I wanted a taste of it.” 

“Did you get a taste of it?” 

“Did my master’s degree research while jointly working with NASA, so yeah, I did,” you nodded with a smile. “And unfortunately, I have to use that superpower to finish grading these. You can stay if you want, I don’t mind.” 

James looked at his watch and sighed, 

“I have a meeting scheduled with the hospital board tomorrow morning. I should probably go get some sleep. Don’t stay up too late, okay?” 

You patted his leg and assured him you’d be in bed within the next few hours whether you liked it or not. Your body probably wouldn’t let you stay up any longer. 

James gave your hand a gentle squeeze and said goodnight, showing himself out. 

—

The sound of the phone ringing echoed through the house and you called for Nadia to pick it up, busy washing dishes. When she didn’t respond, you sighed to yourself and quickly turned off the water, wiping your hands and going to pick the phone up yourself. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, it’s James.” 

“James, what’s up? Aren’t you still at work?” you asked, looking over at the clock. 

“That’s actually what I’m calling about, I don’t think I’m going to be able to make dinner this week,” he said. “Something’s come up and I’m going to be here late.” 

“Oh that’s too bad. We’ll just have to reschedule,” you assured him. 

“Can you put Nadia on the line? I wanted to apologize to her myself.” 

“Sure,” you chuckled and called Nadia again. She came out of her room, rubbing her eyes and you told her James was on the phone asking for her. She took the phone from you and said hello, talking to James for a short while. You could see she was disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to make it, but you heard him promise to make it up to her with a movie night one weekend instead.

“Bye James,” she said and nodded her head in response to something he said before hanging up. “He says bye to you too.” 

“Thanks honey,” you patted her back. “Are you feeling okay?” you asked. “You’re looking a little tired.”

“I feel tired,” she confirmed. “Can I go take a nap?”

“Sure,” you rubbed her back. “Do you want me to come and stay with you?” 

“I’m okay right now,” she yawned. 

You nodded your head and watched her make her way back to her bedroom. That evening you had a quiet dinner, deciding maybe to make soup in case Nadia was coming down with something. She didn’t have much of an appetite, only eating half of her bowl before beginning to cough, one of those deep chest coughs that made you feel a little worried. 

You quickly got her changed in her pyjamas and had her sleep in your bed for the night so you could keep a close eye on her. 

Your instincts that something was wrong ended up being right, as Nadia woke up with a continuing cough in the middle of the night and she felt hot to the touch. 

“Nadia, honey are you going to be okay here for two minutes? I’m gonna go see if I can get some help,” you said and she nodded her head while continuing to cough. 

Quickly, you ran over to James’ place and knocked on the door, an arm wrapped around your stomach while you chewed on your fingernails. 

James opened the door wearing a college t-shirt and sweatpants, immediately taking in your concerned features and asking what was wrong. 

“Nadia got sick and I think she’s getting worse,” you bit your tongue. “I’m so sorry to wake you up, but could you come check on her for me?” 

“Of course,” James nodded, placing a hand on your back as he stepped out of his apartment, closing the door behind him and walking back to yours. 

You led him over to your room where Nadia was laying down and he took a seat next to her on the bed and placed his hand on her arm, letting her know he was there. 

“James?” she coughed. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he gave her a soft smile. “I heard you weren’t feeling too good.” 

She nodded her head. 

“Is it okay if I do a quick check up to see what’s wrong?” he asked and she nodded again, letting him help her sit up. 

He first touched her forehead with the back of his hand to feel her temperature and then placed his ear to her chest to listen to her breathing. 

“Thanks, Nadia, you can lay back down now while I talk to your mom, okay? Try and stay on your side, it'll help with the cough.” 

James motioned for you to follow him just outside of the room so he could tell you what he thought was going on. 

“I think she’s caught some kind of bug that’s causing pneumonia,” he said. “Her breathing didn’t sound too great so I think it’s a safe bet to take her to the hospital, but I’d say you still have time to pack a bag with a few things and I can get Nadia ready and drive you guys.” 

“James, you don’t have to do that,” you shook your head. “I already woke you up and-,” 

“I insist,” he said. “You walk with me into that ER and I’m allowed to boss around the nurses and call the best doctor in pediatrics.” 

“Okay,” you nodded your head and took a shaky deep breath. “She’s gonna be okay, r-right?” 

“They’ll give her an antiviral or antibiotic and keep her for a few nights to make sure it doesn’t get worse and before you know it she’ll be good as new.” 

You chewed on your lip and went to go pack a bag with a few of your things and Nadia’s while James helped Nadia get out of bed and into some shoes and a warm jacket with a hat so the cold air didn’t bite at her. 

“Are you coming with us?” Nadia asked James after a string of coughs. 

“Sure am,” he nodded. “I’m gonna drive and your mom’s gonna sit in the back with you.” 

“Why do we have to go to the hospital?” she asked. 

“Well, sometimes when we get sick at night that’s the fastest way to see a doctor and get the right medicine to get better,” James explained, opening his arms up for Nadia to climb into them to he could carry her to the car just as you had come out with a packed duffle bag. 

“We can take your car,” you said. “I’ll find my way back tomorrow to get mine.” 

James nodded his head and quickly went into his place to grab his keys and lock the door behind him. 

He drove as fast as he could while still being within the speed limit, keeping an eye on his rearview mirror, seeing Nadia huddled up into your side. 

“Mom, my chest hurts,” Nadia blinked back a few tears. 

“Hold on, hon, we’re almost there,” you squeezed onto her a little tighter. 

James pulled into the ER parking lot and grabbed Nadia while you got your things, walking into the hospital together. 

“Dr. Wilson, what are you doing here?” one of the nurses asked, confused. 

“I’ve got a young girl, seven-years-old with pneumonia symptoms, we should get her on oxygen, do a test for bacterial and viral infections, and get a chest x-ray as soon as possible. And call Dr. Herberts, tell her I’m calling in my favour,” he instructed while placing Nadia down on one of the beds. “Nadia, this is my friend Alice,” he motioned to one of the nurses, “She’s gonna be with you while we figure out what’s going on.” 

“What about you?” she asked while James grabbed the oxygen mask from one of the nurses. 

“Your mom and I need to deal with a few other things before we can come be with you, but I promise Alice is going to take really good care of you. She’s really nice.” 

“Promise you’ll come?” she asked and James stuck out his pinky for her to link with her own. 

“Swear it,” he nodded. “Now can you put this on for me?” he asked, showing her the oxygen mask. “It’s going to help you breathe.” 

She nodded her head and let James slip the mask over her head before the nurses wheeled her off to get the tests done. 

James turned around and saw you finishing giving your information to one of the attendants and she was about to inform you where to go wait, but James motioned that he had it covered and she nodded. 

Your exhaustion and worry had become all muddled together and you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore, covering your mouth with your hand while James came and wrapped you in his arms. 

“She’s gonna be okay,” he assured you. “You did the right thing.” 

You nodded your head and reciprocated the hug, burying your face in his shoulder to hide your tears from the onlookers. 

After a few more moments, you pulled away and James quickly helped you wipe away your tears with the heel of his palm before wrapping his arm around you and leading you to radiology where Nadia would be getting her chest x-ray done. 

He sat with you in the waiting room chairs until they brought Nadia out and told you that you could follow them to her room in the pediatrics ward. 

By the time you got there and were settled with Nadia, James looked at the clock and noticed his shift would be starting in around an hour. 

“You didn’t have to stay,” you said, quietly, gently brushing your fingers against Nadia’s cheek. 

“Of course I did,” James smiled. “I pinky promised.” 

Nadia looked up at you and nodded, making you chuckle. 

“Nadi, can James go home so he can get ready for work?” you asked. 

“I’ll come back and see you later after you’ve rested,” he assured her, “But nobody's gonna believe I’m a doctor dressed in these PJs.” 

Nadia giggled, “You can go. Mom says you work here so you have to come back.” 

“Bingo,” James snapped and gave her a thumbs up. “I’ll see you later sweetheart.” 

He bent down and pressed a small kiss to her forehead, wishing her to get better before reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze. His signal to you that everything would be okay.

You pressed your lips together, knowing you were on the verge of tears again, but begged them not to leave your eyes. Instead, you watched misty eyed as this man who you didn’t even know only months ago cared for you and your daughter without question. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time and so you let yourself soak in it for as long as it lasted. 

—

After James had left, you called your ex and explained to him what had happened and he came to join you and Nadia at the hospital. The morning passed without much eventfulness and the doctor and nurses came to periodically check on Nadia, adjusting her medication and seeing if her symptoms were changing. 

You left her with her father so that you could grab a cup of coffee from the cafeteria, barely having gotten a wink of sleep last night. When you returned, you couldn’t see Mike in the room with her, assuming he’d just made a run to the washroom, but instead you saw James sitting on the side of her bed talking to her. 

He was dressed in his white coat, his hair a little scruffy and messy like it normally was. It looked like he was playing some sort of game with her because you could hear laughter and teasing through the glass walls and you decided to give them a minute alone together. 

“Who’s that?” you could hear Mike’s voice ask as he walked up next to you. 

“Dr. Wilson,” you said absentmindedly, smiling to yourself while Nadia laughed at James’ defeat in a thumb war. 

“Acting more like a candy-striper than a doctor,” Mike muttered. 

You continued to watch as Nadia pointed to the IV in her hand and James examined it for a moment, explaining something to her before pressing a gentle kiss to the affected area and telling her that he unfortunately had to leave, but he’d come again later and see her. Nadia pulled him in for a hug and they exchanged cute kisses on the cheek. At least it was cute to you, but to Mike who had no idea what was going on they looked a little suspicious. 

“What the hell is he doing with my daughter?” he asked you, pushing past to try and give him a piece of his mind. 

“Mike, wait!” you ran up to him, but he wouldn’t stop. “Mike, would you stop and listen to me for a minute!” 

He stopped and turned to look at you, “You have an explanation for this?” 

“Yes, I do,” you scoffed. “He’s my neighbour. He drove Nadia and I here last night. Just lay off. He’s a friend.” 

Mike didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he listened and as James came out of Nadia’s room he pushed past him to go be with his daughter. 

You rolled your eyes at his actions while James came to stand with you. 

“I take it that’s Mike,” he said and you nodded your head with a chuckle. “Nadia looks a lot better.” 

“Yeah, doctor’s said they want to keep her under observation one or two more days just to make sure everything is all okay and then they’ll send us home with some antivirals since they don’t think it was caused by a bacterial infection,” you explained. 

“And how are you?” he asked and you took a deep breath, prompting him to reach for your hand that was by your side. 

“I’m tired, I’m worried, I have to deal with Mike, I just…” you shook your head. “I’m happy you’re here.” 

He gave you a half smile and brushed his thumb across your knuckles.

“You need anything and you call my pager. I’ll be right over,” he insisted. “And if you need a moment alone you can sit on the couch in my office.” 

“Thank you,” you said. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Yeah, see you.” 

His hand slipped out of yours as he walked away. You were just about to go back into the room with Nadia before you felt someone tap on your shoulder. 

When you turned around you saw Lisa there with a small teddy bear in her hand from the gift shop.

“Hey,” you smiled and wrapped her in a hug. 

“How’s Nadia? Wilson told me you had to bring her here last night.” she asked. 

“She’s doing okay, a lot better than yesterday,” you shared with your friend. 

“Will she be fine in there with Mike for a bit if I steal you?” she asked and you nodded your head. “Let me go in and say hi and give her this then we can walk.” 

You went in with her and gave a kiss to Nadia whispering to her that you were going to go for a walk, but would be back soon. 

“Mike,” Lisa gave him a curt nod which he returned before she turned her attention to Nadia, the expression on her face changing from one of neutrality to a smile while she handed her the gift and assured her she was gonna get better so fast and be out of the hospital in no time. 

“I’m just gonna take your mom to make sure she gets something to eat so she can keep taking care of you. Does that sound good?” Lisa asked and Nadia agreed. 

“James said you’d do that.” 

“Oh, did he now,” Lisa placed her hands on her hips. “I’ll have to have a little chat with him later. You know I am his boss,” she winked and Nadia giggled. 

You stepped out of the hospital room and once you were a bit of a distance away Lisa looked over to you. 

“What was all that about right before I came?” she asked. “With Wilson?” 

“James? Oh he was just checking in on me and Nadi,” you shook your head. “It was nothing.” 

“Didn’t look like nothing,” Lisa raised her brows and you rolled your eyes. 

“We’re not in high school. It was a rough night and he was there for it. That’s all.” 

“And what did Mike think about that?” Lisa asked. 

“He wasn’t impressed,” you sighed. “But he doesn’t really know how much time we’re spending together and he doesn’t need to because he’s not in charge of me.” 

“He is half in charge of Nadia though,” Lisa said, making a fair point. “Just be open enough with him that it won’t be a headache when it comes to her.” 

You nodded your head, and didn’t argue with Lisa when she offered to buy you something for breakfast. 

“When was the last time you ate?” she asked. 

“Last night, dinner,” you sighed, Lisa took the coffee out of your hands saying you shouldn’t be drinking the caffeine on an empty stomach and you chuckled a little at her motherly attitude. 

You sat down at one of the tables and began to eat with her lightly chatting about a few things that had happened since you had last seen each other. 

“You know, if anyone gives you trouble you can just call me,” she said. 

“Is that an abuse of your power as Dean?” you asked, with a slight air of teasing in your voice.

“Not really,” she shrugged. “I’m just trying to make sure the patients here get the best care possible.” 

“Especially when that patient is your unofficial niece,” you winked and she kicked you lightly under the table. 

When you finished eating, Lisa walked you back to Nadia’s room before going to the clinic. Nadia was sleeping now and Mike was reading a magazine in the chair next to her bed. 

“Thanks for staying with her,” you said. “I hadn’t eaten since last night.” 

“No problem,” he said without looking up from the book. 

You took a deep breath and sat down on the chair on the opposite side of Nadia’s bed, twiddling your thumbs. 

“She talked a lot about Dr. Wilson,” he said, finally breaking the silence, putting the magazine off to the side. 

“Yeah, she likes him a lot,” you nodded. 

“Do you like him a lot?” he asked. 

You shook your head at his question, “Mike does it matter what I feel? We’re not married anymore. I can understand your concern for Nadia, but I can tell you with certainty that he’s shown us nothing but kindness.” 

Mike looked at you for a moment with a piercing stare before backing off and leaning back in his chair, opening the magazine once again. 

—

You rarely liked the idea of being away from Nadia, but tonight you were feeling grateful she was at her dad’s place. The furnace had broken in your apartment and the only thing warming it was a small space heater you had in your room that was doing a job it was not built to do. 

You were huddled under blankets wearing a hoodie and two pairs of pants, still feeling the cold air cut through somehow. You were just about to give up any hope of sleep when you heard a quiet knock at your door and curiously you made your way there, grabbing your housecoat as an extra layer.

When you looked through the peephole you saw James on the other side, just as bundled as you so you quickly opened the door, wondering if he was in a similar circumstance to you. 

“Hey, I-I’m sorry were you asleep?” he asked and you shook your head. “My furnace broke and it’s absolutely freezing in my place, can I sleep on your couch tonight?”

“Talk about coincidence, mine’s broken too,” you chuckled. “I do have a space heater in my room, it’s not much but it’s better.” 

“I-I wouldn’t want to-,” 

“James, we're both freezing our asses off. Come inside.” 

He didn’t argue with you and followed you over to your room. When you got there, you both stared at the bed like maybe something would change to make the situation less awkward and when it didn’t you took the lead, climbing into one side and getting under the covers. 

James looked a little nervous, but he followed your lead, getting in on the other side. 

It felt weird to talk so you both stayed silent, turning your backs to the centre of the bed and trying to focus on curling up to stay warm. 

Unfortunately for you, you could feel your body start to move the blood away from your extremities in order to keep your core warm. It came with light shivering and some chattering of your teeth that you desperately tried to stop until you felt a hand on your arm. 

“Turn around,” James said and you listened, maneuvering yourself so you were facing him, your bodies just a few inches apart. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you fully into him, letting his legs tangle with yours. 

You could feel your heart beating in your ears while he brought your hands up to his chest, holding them in his slightly warmer ones, using a bit of friction to help them regain their heat. 

“Better?” he asked and you silently nodded your head. “Good.” 

Eventually you had regained enough heat that your body felt well enough to let you fall asleep and you could feel your eyes slowly begin to close as your head rested against James’ chest. He made sure you had enough room to breathe, but kept a tight hold on you until sleep came for him too. 

—

“You slept with him?” 

“I did not sleep with him,” you emphasized, pacing your office. “I slept with him. In the same bed. Together.” 

“And you are freaking out about this, why?” Lisa asked. 

“Because you don’t sleep in the same bed as your neighbours, Lisa!” you insisted. “But we did, a-and I was cold and he held me and…I liked it,” you finished in a whisper. 

“What’s stopping you then?” she asked. “He’s cute, he’s a doctor-,” 

“He’s divorced.” 

“You’re divorced,” Lisa countered. 

“Exactly,” you nodded. “He’s divorced twice. I’m divorced with a kid. That makes things… complicated.” 

“Are you trying to stop Nadia from getting hurt, or are you trying to find an excuse to stop yourself because you’re too scared to see where this goes?” she asked you and you sighed. 

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “How can I tell that everything won’t just fall apart if I do something?” 

“You can’t,” Lisa stood up and put a hand on your arm. “Just try to trust your gut, that’s all you can do in situations like this.” 

“My gut is telling me to kiss him and run away,” you shook your head and Lisa nodded, 

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t do that.” 

“I’ll figure it out though, right. Eventually.” 

Lisa didn’t say anything, simply giving you a hug, knowing deep down you knew what the right thing to do was and like you said, eventually, you’d come to the same conclusion. 

—

Hearing the knock at your door, Nadia bounced off the couch and raced to open it, knowing what was awaiting her on the other side. 

James leaned into the doorway when Nadia swung the door open and said, 

“What night is it again?” 

“Movie night!” Nadia cheered and jumped into his arms, her eyes growing wide when she saw the assortment of treats he was holding. 

“It’s not a movie night without snacks,” he said and Nadia agreed with him. You came up towards them and snatched away two of the bags of candy. 

“She just got a hundred percent clean bill of health from her pediatrician, you really wanna go and mess that up with all this candy?” you asked. 

“Come on, I’m a doctor, I know what I’m doing,” James assured. “We’ll be reasonable, right Nadia?” 

The young girl nodded her head and swore on her allowance that she wouldn’t eat all the candy. Hesitantly, you handed the bags back and gave them a skeptical look while they walked over to the couch to get things started. 

You finished what you were doing in the kitchen and brought over a bowl of popcorn with you smiling to yourself when you saw Nadia sitting in James’ lap and telling him how to use the remote for your TV. You placed the bowl on the table and went to change into something a little more comfortable for the evening, hoping that by the time you came out they had picked something to watch. 

When you stepped out of your room, now wearing a sweater and some flannel pyjama pants, Nadia informed you they were just about to start the movie. 

“Come sit, quick mom,” she patted the spot next to her and James and you slipped in next to them, noticing how James wrapped his arm around you, bringing you in a little closer. You didn’t fight the close proximity and instead leaned into it more, resting your head against his shoulder. 

Nadia had already leaned back against his chest, her eyes fixed on the screen and her hand shoved inside one of the bags of candy James had brought. The top of her head was just resting against the side of James’ chin and when you looked up at him he was glancing down at Nadia, a small smile on his lips. He looked content. 

You could have stayed like that all night, just watching them, but you knew sooner or later you’d have to pay attention to the movie before they started asking questions. 

Around halfway through the movie, James tapped your arm and you looked up at him, seeing him point to Nadia with his eyes, who was now fast asleep on him. 

You chuckled quietly, sitting up a little straighter and saying, 

“I can move her to her bedroom. You don’t have to stay for the rest of the movie.” 

“Actually, I’m kind of invested,” James admitted. “But I will take you up on the moving her option, I’ve had to go pee since like the second musical number and she’s really squeezing my bladder.” 

You bit back a laugh and shook your head, pausing the movie and standing up so you could genty lift Nadia off of James’ lap and carry her over to her bedroom, tucking her under the covers and placing a kiss to her forehead before going back out to the living room. 

James was in the washroom still so you went and made yourself and him a mug of tea. When he came out, he joined you in the kitchen watching as you poured the hot water into the two colourful mugs with math puns on them. 

“You take anything in your tea?” you asked. 

“No, do you?” 

“A little sugar,” you nodded and he offered to grab it for you, opening the cupboard in front of you and placing a hand on your back moving you slightly out of the way so he could take out the box of sugar cubes. Your breath hitched at the sudden contact and you hoped he didn’t hear it, instead masking your desire with small talk. 

“I thought you had a sweet tooth,” you said. “It would explain all the candy.” 

“I have a bit of a sweet tooth sometimes,” he admitted. 

“I think Nadia enables you,” you grabbed your mug and passed James his. 

“Oh she definitely does,” he nodded his head, taking a sip of the steaming hot drink before walking back to the couch with you. 

You fell back into the same positions you were before, pressing play and continuing to watch the movie. After a few things progressed in the plot you spoke up asking,

“You think this movie’s going to have a happily ever after?” 

“Sure, it’s a kid’s movie,” James nodded and looked down at you. “Why?” 

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “It’s stupid.” 

James rubbed your arm, coaxing you to look back up at him again. 

“You were thinking about something, what was it?” 

“It’s just the happy endings don’t always happen,” you said. “I don’t know if I should let Nadi live in a world of fairytales or destroy all her hope of the future.” 

“Maybe life isn’t all bells and whistles when it comes to love,” James started. “But we win with other things. I mean look at you, you’ve got an amazing daughter and you’re doing something you love with your life, isn’t that its own kind of happily ever after?” 

“I guess it is,” you nodded. 

“And you know, your life isn’t over. Who’s to say love is out of the picture?” 

You were looking up at him and wondered how he could hit the nail on the head so accurately, like he could read your mind. 

Right now, love was pretty clearly in the picture and it was sitting right in front of you. 

You could feel yourself reach out your hand, gently brushing your fingertips against his cheek. 

“And what if I’m not brave enough to go after it?” you whispered, feeling your heartbeat mixed with his and his shaky exhale that came with your touch. 

“Then maybe,” his thumb and forefinger came to hold your chin up, his face inching closer to yours. “Maybe it can meet you halfway.” 

You could feel your eyes flutter shut and his lips just barely ghost against yours when you heard a sound coming from Nadia’s bedroom and the spell was broken. 

You both opened your eyes and after a moment you pulled away, just before Nadia opened the door to her room. 

“Why was I in my room?” she asked. 

You were still too stunned to speak, your mind racing at the idea that you were just about to kiss James, and he was going to kiss you back. You felt like a teenager, not knowing what to say or how to act. 

Luckily, James was a little more composed than you and explained to Nadia that she had fallen asleep and that you both didn’t want to wake her. 

“Is the movie over?” she asked and you all looked at the screen, seeing the end credits rolling. 

“Yeah, it is, sorry sweetheart,” James apologized. “Can I make it up to you and read you a story before you go back to bed?” 

“Sure,” Nadia agreed. 

“Go brush your teeth first,” you instructed. “I’ll tuck you in once James is done reading.” 

Nadia went off to the washroom and before James could say anything you stood up and grabbed a few of the dirty dishes, taking them to the kitchen to clean up. You couldn’t talk about what had just happened, not now at least, not when it was still so fresh. 

 You focused only on the dishes and cleaning the kitchen while James read Nadia her story before wishing her goodnight with a kiss on her forehead and waving goodbye to you and thanking you for the tea. 

When the door closed behind him you let out a small breath that you had been holding and went to tuck Nadia into bed. 

“Mom, are you okay?” Nadia asked, sensing your far off look. 

“I’m fine,” you assured her with a forced smile. “Rest up, I have to take you to your dad’s place tomorrow.” 

“Okay,” she yawned. “Night, mom.” 

“Goodnight, honey.” 

You kissed her on the cheek and stood up, going over to your room and sitting on the edge of the bed. You brushed your fingers against your own lips, closing your eyes you could still feel James pressed up against you, but you pushed it away. 

Clearly, you still weren’t brave enough. Not yet. 

—

The following weeks were awkward to say the least. You began spending more time in your office when Nadia was with her dad, just for another excuse to avoid James in the hallway. 

He hadn’t made too much effort to reach out, you assumed to give you your space. You knew if you told Lisa she would just say you were overthinking things, but you couldn’t get out of your head, even if you wanted to. 

You felt like you were going to stay in this crippling state of indecision forever, but you couldn’t keep it up, not when Nadia would ask questions, you needed to come up with something or someone needed to come up with something for you. 

You arrived home late from campus today, this time with the legitimate excuse of grading finals. After the long hours of marking that had pushed you to extreme tedium and boredom you just wanted to curl up on the couch with a good book or something that would stimulate your brain. 

Before you went to your room to get changed, you heard a knock at your door. Checking the time you wondered who it could be. It wasn’t often you had visitors past 9PM, that was unless it was James. 

When you checked through the peephole, you could see James standing outside your door, waiting for a moment before knocking again. 

“Come on, I know you’re in there,” he said. “Please, just let me in.” 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, unlocking the door and opening it, allowing him to step inside. 

“Is Nadia at her dad’s place?” he asked while you were shutting the door. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, still facing the wood door. “She’s at her-,” 

You didn’t have a chance to finish your sentence before James turned you around, taking your face in his hands and pressing a searing kiss to your lips. 

You stumbled back until you were pressed against the door, your eyes now closed while you pulled him closer to you. You let yourself run your fingers through your hair like you’d dreamt of doing the night you almost kissed, his hands moving from your face down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

You could feel your heart beating throughout every cell in your body, so loud it almost blocked out your thoughts. Almost. 

You paused for a moment, holding James’ face in your hands and pulling away. Your lips felt swollen from the force with which he had kissed you and you wanted nothing more than to do it again, but you had to ask. 

“Is our history going to make this complicated?” 

“It’ll be complicated if we make it complicated,” he snuck past your defenses and stole another kiss, shorter, softer. “I want this. You. I want quiet nights just the two of us; loud nights with Nadia; breakfast in the early morning; lunches in your office; dinner together like this makeshift family we’ve created. I just…I want you and everything that comes with it.” 

You smiled at his words, bringing him in close to you again for another kiss, this time long and slow like you were dragging out every moment of the future you had together. 

When James pulled away from you, your hands fell from his face, travelling down his arms until they were in his. You looked over at him, blinking a few times until began to pull you towards your bedroom, a small smile coming across your face. 

James sat down on the edge of your mattress and you stood in front of him. His hands were still in yours, looking up into your eyes. You let your hands come back up to his hair, scratching against his scalp. You smiled when his eyes closed and he hummed at the feeling of your touch. 

His hands came back to hold your waist and he brought you closer, his thumb rubbing circles around your skin. 

You bent down and pressed another soft kiss to his lips, causing his eyes to flutter open when you pulled away. 

“What do you want to do?” you asked, fixing his hair you had messed up just earlier. 

“I want to lay down here, and hold you,” he leaned back and pulled you on top of himself, sharing another kiss with you. “And I want to fall asleep knowing you’re in my arms.”

You smiled and nodded your head, whispering a quiet ‘okay’ while you adjusted yourselves to be more in the centre of the mattress. 

And just like before, James pulled you close into him, but this time you didn’t let yourself feel taken aback or nervous, you leaned into his touch, savoured when you felt his lips pressed against your hairline, sighed when you felt his hands slip under your shirt to trace mindless shapes on your back. 

No equation or formula would be able to describe what you were feeling and it made you realize that maybe math wasn’t the world’s universal language after all.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

[copperbadge]

How did you find the doctor(s) who assessed you for ADHD? Im looking into the process of getting diagnosed because (although ive suspected I might have adhd for years now) I've been struggling a lot more lately and i want to try medication to see if it helps at all. Im trying to search for psychiatrists through my health insurance portal but the the results im getting are all for child/adolescent psychiatry specialists, and I dont think that'll be much help for an adult adhd assessment? Did you have an established therapist to refer you for your assessment or were you able to find a psychiatrist independently?

I actually just kind of had to freeform it, but that does mean I have some tips to share!

I will say, I have never once used a health insurance portal to find someone to treat me for anything. Often their search engine is fucked up and the information is sometimes out of date. I almost always either ask someone who I know has had similar issues if they have a recommendation, ask my treating physician if I have one, or just google until I find someone reputable-looking; any qualified medical center or professional will list what insurance they take anyway, and you can always ask when you make the appointment.

So here's the process for how to do that!

When I was first considering it, I asked a friend who'd had an evaluation that came back not-ADHD, which I liked because it meant we knew it wasn't like, a weird Adderall pill mill or something. I really wanted to have a professional and thorough evaluation because I knew myself and knew I was capable of gaming a questionnaire. The place she had her evaluation was unfortunately having some staffing issues; part of the reason it took me so long is that I played phone tag with them for ages -- I'd call, and regardless of what time of day I called, their scheduler would be "out", so I'd leave a message and never get a call back. Ultimately I said "I really need to talk to a human, because your scheduler has not returned any of my numerous calls" and they said they could transfer me to another office outside of Chicago (in the burbs). That was not going to be accessible to me, so I told them thanks but I'll go somewhere else. Then COVID hit and I was not going to go anywhere near a medical center unless I had to for about two years.

So, when I was making my second serious run at getting evaluated, I did what might be expected of me by longtime readers of this blog: I made a spreadsheet.

I want to caveat this up top with REALLY IMPORTANT CONTEXT: I did not do all of this in a single day. The process from starting research to making an evaluation appointment took about a month, and probably would have taken longer if I wasn't getting somewhat desperate. Do not push yourself to do this as a single act. Research alone is a multi-day process; some days I looked at the open tabs and only entered one tab's worth of information. It took me quite a bit of time to write the form email I sent inquiring about an assessment. It took me time to call the clinic back when they asked me to call to book the appointment. This is a series of steps, not a single leap.

So!

I was looking for a clinic rather than an individual, in part because I'd heard a couple of horror stories about people who went to a psychiatrist and just got argued with for an hour instead of actually getting evaluated. So I googled, and here are some key terms for you, chicago adult adhd assessment. Chicago obviously for the region, but "adult adhd" (putting it in quotes will help) is the important term that will help you filter out a lot of child psych stuff. A lot of what I looked at did included family or child assessment/therapy but were clear that they also evaluated adults.

Then I went through every legit-looking search result and noted down, in my spreadsheet, the name of the clinic/company, the contact phone and email, the URL, the physical location (I needed to be able to get to it fairly easily) and whether they took my insurance. Even if they didn't take my insurance (all but one did) I still put them into the spreadsheet so that if I found them again I could check the sheet and know I didn't need to investigate further. I also tended to bump more legitimate and friendly-looking places to the top of the sheet. And if I were going to do it again I would also look for one specific thing, which is an assessment guide of some kind.

The assessment guide may be something they only give you after you speak with them, so it's not a no-go if they don't have one on their website, but it basically tells you what generally will go on during the assessment, how long it will take, and what you should bring. A full assessment like I had is estimated to take 4-6 hours and they recommended I wear layers so I wouldn't be overly cold/warm in their office, and to bring a snack. That's the kind of information you want, duration of the assessment and what they recommend for you, to ensure that you're working with people who are thorough and care about your comfort.

So, I have this spreadsheet now of places to reach out to, which I know take my insurance and do adult assessment. In the spreadsheet I also had columns for what date I contacted them and whether they'd responded. I started reaching out via email, one per day, with the form email I'd written.

The form email basically said "I'm 42 with no previous diagnosis but I have a family history of autism and dyslexia. I've been told I should get assessed for ADHD, so I'm looking for a clinic that will do the assessment and takes (my insurance). I prefer to be contacted by email but if need be, my phone number is (phone number). Please let me know if you have any open appointments and what information you will need from me to book an evaluation with you." (You can always ask for more information about the actual evaluation process once they respond.)

If I didn't get a response within 24 hours, I moved on to the next, but I only greyed out the text in that line of the spreadsheet; I didn't disqualify/remove the nonresponsive ones because again, I wanted to make sure I kept that information in case they eventually did respond. I did this with about ten clinics, because I figured I must be able to find at least one in ten who could do the eval, and I could go back and research more if necessary.

I think the third or fourth one I reached out to was the first to respond, and I ended up going with them; I had a very positive experience in the assessment itself but it was a real pain in the ass getting the documentation from them -- they took about a month to go through the evaluation data (this is not abnormal but is rather longer than usual according to my psychiatrist) and they gave me an in-person-by-zoom report once it was ready. That said, it took another four months and the threat of reporting them to the state to get them to send me the text of the eval (in part because the evaluator left the clinic unexpectedly with my formal report not yet written). But that's something that's truly impossible to know until you're working with them, and highly unusual, so don't let concerns about that deter you. If you end up in that situation come hit me up and I'll tell you how I dealt with that.

My eval recommended an executive function coach, but if I haven't been able to func it by now I never will, so I thanked them for the recommendation and went looking for a psychiatrist unaffiliated with the clinic to prescribe me meds. There, the key words you're going to be looking for are again "adult adhd" but also "adult disability" and if you want medication that's less likely to be a huge fucking hassle, "medication management". My psychiatrist and I meet every two months to reup my prescription, but he doesn't require me to take a regular drug test or meet him in person in order to get a new scrip, as some people have encountered. We meet in person once or twice a year (I can't remember, it's due to a legal requirement in Illinois) but otherwise it's over zoom.

So yeah -- it's a process, but there are ways to streamline and manage it, and a few tripwires in place to make sure you don't end up screwed by the system. Definitely feel free to ask if you have questions, either here or if you want a more indepth conversation you can email me at copperbadge@gmail.com. GOOD LUCK!

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Platonic Yandere Mutants

“Can I help you with anything sir?”

Giving your typical customer server voice, you finished shelving the sauces and turned to the anthropod-mutant. The world has seen a resurgence of mutated humans that are just the same as any other human other than their more animalistic traits. A big part of the service-related industry was being able to handle the large, intimidating, and sometimes violent clientele.

“I’m so distraught…” The anthropodian looked just as he said with inky-black goo pouring from his black eyes. His quivering pupils were an amber-yellow, looking deep into your soul with lashes painted by his tears like mascara. 

He was arguably quite handsome if you could get past the staggering height of 244 centimeters, the three spider-like legs, and a lean torso connected to a larger abdomen. From a glance, it seemed that he was a spider-mutant but the folded wings on his large backside and the lack of mandibles or multiple eyes said otherwise. You didn’t know if it’d be polite to ask;  in the meantime, he continues. 

“Ever since the Spring the love of my life and I have been trying to fertilize our eggs Even our roommates attempted to help us make our children but to no avail. We went to the doctors and you know how few of them actually know how to treat mutants but that’s beside the point. They told us that we technically should be able to but for whatever reason we just can’t. We suspect that it might be because of the vaccine they recently brought mainstream. It’s just been so hard going through life without our own little bundle of joy.”

“Sir….this is a Matiscoes.”

He started crying again, putting his hands over his face, and you shot a nervous glance around, trying to spot another employee or nosy customer willing to intervene. No other customers were there and your coworkers that were weren’t interested in helping you whatsoever–only willing to offer a minor shrug.

“Is there anything you want here…to quell your grief.”

His crying seemed to cease or at least let up enough to fold his hands in front of him. He was smiling now and tilting his head. You copied the motion as you awaited his answer. 

“That’s why I came here today,” he started. “We’ve been watching you for a while now and we’ve decided you're going to be our new addition to the family!”

You blanched. 

“Uhm what–”

Faster than you could react strong grey hands grasped your shoulders, hugging you tight into his chest before holding you up high. In a way that only an anthropodian could do his backside’s wings opened up. Another layer, which looks like an exoskeleton, pulls back to reveal a gooey compartment. Barely able to let out a yelp as he unceremoniously dropped you into the compartment. 

The feeling of the compartment’s innards was soft and fleshy complimented by what had to be gallons of viscous slime that coated its sides and bottom. You saw your coworkers first–all of them either preparing to scream or reaching out as if to pull you out. Opening your mouth to call for them you found yourself choking on the chunky liquid, as you reached out. It was then you felt a hand on your head pushing down as the exoskeletal layer closed over you. 

It was a mostly transparent screen with tinges of gray that matched the skin tone of the mutant who had grabbed you. Next were the wings which folded over sealing you within the blackness of the compartment and forcing you to curl into yourself. You tried to hold your breath but when your lungs couldn’t take it, you resigned yourself to suffocate within the goop and complete darkness. Come to find you somehow could…breath just fine? You wanted to dwell on it, to question what this was but you found yourself unable to register much in the darkness of the cavern. Or even registering yourself as you felt your eyes close and your body relax.

All you knew was that the muffled yells were nothing but white noise to fall asleep to.

__________________________________________________________

“You look happy today? Was it lunch?” 

Granger, the harpy, was preening his navy blue and magenta feathers when the anthropodian mutant happily strolled in. Picking up on the faint scent of metal, he deduced that his roommates had treated themselves again. 

He didn’t mind it really. 

After all, he had his own specific tastes.

But as much as they were his roommates, they were the closest thing he had to friends. And seeing a smile on your recently mopey friend's face was a good enough sign. The reason he felt like asking was the blacker tint of a blush on his gray cheeks as he lightly scurried by. 

“I did have a good lunch today but I got something better!”

“What is it?”

The anthropodian let out a coy giggle, winking as he made his way out of the mansion to the den he’d recently been crying in. While Granger didn’t pride himself on being emotionally intelligent he wasn’t as stupid as others expected. 

Something definitely happened.

And maybe the landlord might want to know about it. 

Sending the text swiftly, he tucked his phone away at the silent entrance of his other roommate. She held a mass of webs in her human-like arms along with a larger web sack strung over her shoulder and strapped against her back. The drider didn’t even bother to let one of her eight eyes even glance at him as she skillfully strode along the ceiling.

The harpy tilted his head up almost leaning completely on the chair to watch her make her way to the kitchen. 

“So I hear you two went out to lunch.”

“We did.”

“Are those the only leftovers? And I took you for the saving type.”

“...” 

She didn’t say anything for a while instead opening the fridge to store what she had wrapped. For a moment, Granger thought she was ignoring him but then she spoke up. 

“I sent the real leftovers up to the den in the minecart. This food I retrieved is for…Harley.”

Granger made a face.

“Does Harley have a sudden interest in normie food?”

“You could say that…point being don’t eat any of this.”

“Ugh you know I won’t.”

“I mean it, Granger, if you eat this you will know the wrath of Harley.”

“Yeah yeah whatever.”

She blinked all eight of her eyes indignantly before scurrying away. 

Everyone was acting so weird. Granger felt excluded from whatever was going it’d stop when Quintin got home.

__________________________________________________________

“Sire here are the final reports of this week’s averages.”

“Thank you. Make sure the office party ends well I’ll be taking my leave.”

“Of course sire. Have a nice evening.”

Walking out of the meeting room turned party venue, he drew the eyes of everyone there. Curious staring and admirable gazes alike followed him all the way to his office, giving him a temporary reprieve from the constant attention. The albino looked like any other of his employees, other than his strikingly white hair, pale face, red eyes, and the matching snake tail sprouting from his lower back. 

He too despite his upper appearance, was a mutant. Though more accepted for his resemblance to basic humans, Quintin still received a mix of reactions for his noticeable difference. Balancing the disgusted reactions for who the mutant he was along with the odd fascination for his mutant extremity made his success a winding road. Filled with pain, abuse, and constant questions of his own existence. 

But he was here and now he was a mogul among mutants and humans alike. 

He kept an open mind as he learned of new things, different curve balls, and spotty trends. His openness allowed for flexibility that let him navigate his industry. But that didn’t mean he didn’t like plans. As much as he practiced being open, routine was vital to his level-headedness. 

Specifically with things regarding home. So a text from the unruly tenant and friend made him remarkably tense. 

<Hey so Harley and Mar-Mar are acting weird…>

<I guess something went down at lunch>

Lunch?

Harley and Margot must have gone on one of their little excursions again.

Quintin had a sneaking suspicion as to what it may be but he had to be sure. Considering Harley was dealing with their infertility without too many distractions he could see why he’d go do something extreme. Tapping the password he retyped so often, the familiar security camera configuration popped up.

His eyebrow twitched, his claws scraped the underside of his desk, and his tail angrily whipped around. Finding nothing but the small movements of a cat on one of the cameras the subject for those cameras was nowhere to be found.

Through gritted teeth and a hiss on the tip of his tongue, Quintin cursed, “Harley!”

He hurried home without his typical unaffected air about him but no one bothered him let alone said goodbye. They knew better than to do so. Signalling his chauffeur to quickly head home he tried to calm the anger rising from within. 

The drive felt longer than usual because his mind was in near disarray. He kept it together, calmly undoing his tie and hanging his suit jacket up as he walked up the steep path to the mansion. He planned to quickly change out of his work clothes, with his partner being so privy to the faint scents of his coworkers. 

“Quintin! There you are! What’s up?”

Dodging a feathered hug, he shot him a scornful look shutting down the playful greeting of Granger. Passing him with burning vigor, he made his way through the mansion finding his practically untouched suite. He changed into the relaxing and more comfortable poet shirt and leather pants before sprinting up the mount.

He sent a passing glance at the displaced mine carts. They had been moved recently, which matches up with Granger’s inclusion of Margot. She happened to be the one who suggested moving furniture and delivering food to Harley’s den when he first began to nest. Only confirming his suspicions he ran at speeds invisible to the human eye. Despite looking so similar to them he was wired completely different 

With no need to catch his breath, he strode past the various webbing around the mouth of the cave. For someone who claimed to be celibate Margot was heavily invested and involved throughout their fertility journey. Going so far as to insulate and effectively monitor the cave with Harley in it. Of course, it remained to be seen if this was helpful or not. 

He walked farther, attempting not to trigger the connection of webs that alerted neither Harley nor Margot. Eventually, the webbing stopped and the cave split into tunnels. He already knew where the latest nest was based on scent alone. After navigating the various paths to the entry of an even smaller cave was where he found Harley. 

It was a smaller cavern with a slow but moving body of water with a generator powering the off-hand appliances, and heating panels pointed downwards. A little ways from them in a widely dug hole was the nest, a collection of blankets and pillows that he excitedly went shopping for not too long ago. And so was Harley happily tidying up and poking at the pillows infusing them with his blood and plasma.

“Harley!”

His smiling gray face turned to look at him with a black blush he could tell had been there for a while. 

“Quintin! I’m so glad you’re here we’re almost ready.”

“Harley.”

“W-what, aren’t you happy?”

“I told you to wait. To wait until we were both ready.”

The anthropod made a face. 

“But I was ready. My body said it was time so I just–”

He continued to quietly justify himself as Quintin let his mind drift. This was a common conversation throughout their journey. While his snake heritage was always known to him and the behaviors connected with it the same could never be said about Harley. All they knew was that he was connected to the anthropod type in some way. Other than that it was a guessing game. More often than not they just had to rely on whatever feeling Harley was focused on hoping it’d be akin to a birthing instinct. 

It was exhausting. 

But Quintin loves Harley.

So he’d put up with that, during their latest attempt–surrogacy–he met someone who kindled the paternal instincts in him like none before. It was during an interview for an assistant intern that he happened to be watching that he’d found them. 

A human. 

An awkward one.

That was just trying to make their way in the world.

Never before had he wanted to stow anyone away except for Harley. So young. So weak+ So unachieved. Maybe it was the way you spoke, what answers were firm and not, the way your eyes checked yourself in the mirror provided. Whatever it was it solidified it for him, if this next attempt didn’t work out then he wouldn’t mind adoption. Granted you weren’t a child or a teen but barely an adult he wanted nothing more than to coddle and spoil. 

So after stringing them along a few other interviews, he rejected their application. Keeping the template-based resume and taking the vital information to do an extensive background check. It was a great distraction setting up the cameras in your home and guiding your job search to a crooked grocery store. So of course the sorrow of another avenue closing was painful but it just gave him an excuse to have a routine—-to be calm. To sync his routine with yours; watching your daily life allowing him to scold you through the screen. 

It wouldn’t be long before Harley caught wind of his turned attention, eventually scoping out his secret pastime. Quintin was worried originally, while he had the financial power Harley was just an unstoppable unit if pushed hard enough. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d made meals out of coworkers he deemed too close. But much to Quintin’s surprise, it became the newest vice for Harley’s sadness.

“When can we? I want them home soon!” 

“We need to wait…give it time then we’ll slowly reel them in.”

It was the wise way to bring their baby in. Slowly gain their trust, earn their friendship, and eventually become the parents that could be without explicitly saying it. It was a long game but it’d be worth it as they got the payout all without immense force or bringing stress.

“-it’s just that they’re getting older and we’re going to miss out! I wasn’t trying to-”

“I understand.”

“Huh?”

“I get why. It’s fine. We’ll make this work.”

“Oh well, I’m glad you see it my way!”

How shameless.

Harley bent down to give him a light peck before happily turning away. Continuing to arrange and rearrange the nesting area. Surely there wasn’t much else that could be done, other than maybe customizing it with a few things from their baby’s shoddy shack they called home. But not too much. He could only hope your favorite things weren’t infected with whatever vermin surely lived in the rundown place he had (his staff) those cameras planted in. On that topic, he made a mental note to pick up the little creature he saw running nervously around there. Surely bringing it back home would help their baby acclimate. Speaking of them…

“Where are they by the way?”

With a small smile and a flutter of Harley’s wings, he already knew. Quintin couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose.

“How did I know…anyway Harls are you going to release them soon?”

“But they’re so cozy and quiet in here!”

“Harls.”

“I was going to but what better way to get close to each other?!”

“Harls. Most humans already are frightened by our appearance, let alone the inner workings of us mutants…they aren’t going to respond to your…” He sent a worried look to the anthropodian’s behind. “Affection all that well.”

“I know that! All babies are fussy, especially when they haven’t been with us for too long.”

Quintin decided to dismiss the jump in logic. Harley sighed before picking a place among the pillows to settle down in. With a pout on his lips, his wings flapped up and the final layer of his protective pouch pulled back. 

There you were, sleeping in the fetal position and submerged in the yellow fluids of Harley’s design. Soothed by the sounds of your light breathing Quintin took a minute to admire you before scooping you up in his arms. Not bothered by the residue soaking through his shirt, he settled you down on one of the many propped-up pillows. Making sure to support your head as he held you tight. He lightly rocked you noting you were still wearing your work uniform. He held back a sigh and sent a look to his partner who had finished closing his pouch and had turned to sit against his side. 

“What? We figured we’d get lunch along the way.”

“Did they see?”

“Nope! And if you want we have leftovers!”

“ I smelt so and…maybe if the manager is among them.”

“Hmm you’ll have to ask Margot, she’s already wrapped them up.”

“U-u-uhm what is going on?!”

______________________________________________________________

When you woke up, you first remember how hard it was to open your eyes. Not only because the desire to sleep wasn’t constantly plaguing your brain but because something had glued your lashes together. It took over five attempts to blink your eyes open. 

One. 

Two.

Your lips had the same problem, you’d have to try to open them too. 

Three.

Four.

What was this taste in your mouth?! 

Five. 

It was remarkably blurry. Like round spots of color barely moving blurry. But your eyes would adjust like all your other senses, including your ears which seemed to have been clogged but were slowly becoming clear.

“--see?”

“---eftovers!”

Both those voices sounded so familiar one more so than the other. Coupled with the oddly chilly hand weight of a hand supporting your back, which seemed to lightly bob you up and down. The voices of the ones above you became clearer, talking about something you couldn’t grasp.

“Uhm, what’s going on?!”

It came out before you could register your mouth moved at all. It only made you regret it when they both turned to you with such wide eyes; almost like a feline’s glare when it came to hunting. 

The gray man gave a fanged smile, “Hi baby, good morning! Did you have a nice rest?”

You felt the urge to scream only able to hone in on the glowing yellow pupils and the sharpened teeth coming closer to you. The paler face, a much more human-like face tutted the threatening being. Pulling you to sit on their lap, letting you eye the incredibly dark cavern that you were in before covering your eyes with a pale hand. 

Eyes covered, you could only guess it was a muscular arm wrapping around your waist. Hushing in your ear and a hand attempting to soothe you by rubbing the side of your upper arm. It helped…a little.

“(Y/n), relax for me. Breathe in and out. Breathe in and out.”

You followed the man’s instructions to fight the urge to let out a shuddered breath. You could feel your tears dampen the hand over your eyes. He repeated the same instructions to you, waiting for your breath to even out before trying to speak to you.

“(Y/n) some things are going to be different now.”

“What do you mean by that? How do you know my name? Where am—”

Shushing you again the voice calmly continued,” I am Quintin and the anthropod you met before is Harley. We’ll be your guardians from now on.”

“What?! Guardians?! But I’m an adult I don’t need any–guardians!”

The voice seemed to pause, almost offended by your denial. The arm around you—that felt like it didn’t have joints–tightened around you in a vice grip.

“We are your guardians from now on (Y/n)...now would you like to see or would you like a blindfold?”

Now it was your turn to be silent. Debating with yourself on what would bring the most comfort in the stress full time.

On one hand, if they were going to torture you or force you to undergo some horrific experiments or something the blindfold would be better.

On the other hand, having your sight lets you see where you can escape and see what you’re up against. 

Well, the answer is obvious, right?

“I want the blindfold off.”

“Okay, but if you misbehave it’s going right back.”

You ignored the warning as your dim surroundings were revealed. Blinking away the blurred specks in your eyes it revealed the familiar face from the store. Your expression must’ve shown your realization because the mutant spoke.

“Hi, sweet pea! We did officially meet in the store but I’ll have you know I’ve been wanting you home with us for a long time!”

You grimace, “You were stalking me?” 

His expression became downcast before he shook his head. 

“Stalking is for hunting, sweetie. We’ll have to go over everything you know about hunting if that’s what you’ve been taught. Stupid humans if that’s what they're teaching we’ll have to reteach you everything!”

“I’m human!”

He swoons before pinching your cheeks and cuddling his face against yours. “I know but you’re our human! And that makes you better than all of them.”

You felt disgusted. While there were tensions with the mutants it was mostly through those rioting and promoting discrimination. Those same rioters tended to look down on the other race, saying things just like that. It disturbed you. 

“Humans aren’t stupid!”

“(Y/n).” Quintin warned. You didn’t listen.

“Have you ever considered that our strengths aren’t in our physical strengths alone? “

“(Y/n), please.”

“Now, angel watch your tone! You won’t speak to your father and I like that.”

“I’m going to say something if you’re looking down on people.”

“I look down on them because that’s nature, darling. Just because it’s the way the world works doesn’t mean you need to misbehave.”

“Harley.”

“I’m not misbehaving! I’m stating my opinion!”

“(Y/n).”

“Maybe you’re opinion isn’t wanted.”

“Then maybe you should’ve gotten some underdeveloped child!”

“Grrr. That’s it, I’m putting you in time out.”

Repeating the same actions as he did at the store, you tried your best to struggle this time. Scratching and squirming did nothing to stop your route to the opened exoskeleton compartment. Harley only stopped at Quintin’s hand on his chest.

“But honey they—”

“Are adjusting we have to give them time to learn their surroundings. To get to know us.”

“But Quin!”

“Harley.”

With a sigh, he set you down again. Angrily crossing his arms Harley watched you scramble away, sending a look towards Quintin who closed the distance between you. Finally seeing his face as he came to kneel in front of you. His skin was pale, a smooth off-white that could barely be distinguished from his hair. His eyes were like crimson pearls with slitted pupils gazing deeply into your own. 

“(Y/n), I know a lot of things are changing for you,” he kept stepping closer to you; minding how your back had reached the wall of the crater. He continued to step close to you, holding his hands up when you flinched. “And there’s a lot to learn so I’ll make it easier for you.

You felt something slither between your back and the wall pulling you closer to Quintin as he reached into his pocket. Now it hit you that the albino had a tail sprouting from his behind, that easily held you tight as a blindfold was tied over your face. Naturally, you reached your hands up to analyze it only for those oddly warm and chilled hands to wrap something soft around your wrists.

“Wait did you–”

“I did.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, stopping when you felt the slicing of the air near your ear. Barely sensing the breath, you gathered that Quentin was hugging you and prepared to whisper.

“Don’t upset him. Otherwise, he’ll keep you in that pouch forever.”

“But what if–”

“He’s emotional, you won’t be able to reason with him.” He paused, internally enjoying the defeated look on your face. Taking advantage of your hesitance he set your head to rest on his shoulder. “I’ll always come back for you. When I do I can reason with him so hang tight for me, okay?”

He felt your lips wobble and the small drips against his shoulder. He tightened his hug, relishing the clinging of your cuffed hands against his shirt. 

He tried again,” Can you do that, (Y/n)? Let him baby you, just for a little bit?”

“O-okay.”

“I’m already so proud.”

He pulls away, delightfully having to unlatch your fingers from him. He fights the smile that threatens to spread as he begins walking back to Harley. The anthropodian mutant glared at him with an angry dark blush on his face. His wings occasionally and angrily fluttered as Quintin came closer. Holding his gray cheeks in place, the snake prodded his tongue against Harley’s lips. Pushing past the barrier Quintin enjoyed the warmth of Harley’s mouth diving deeper until he was met with a reciprocated stroke. Before they got carried away, they pulled away each licking off the translucent purple saliva that hung on their lips. 

“Be forgiving Harley, they’re really scared.”

Harley clung to his love’s shirt, peering over his shoulder at the helpless human who curiously turned their head.

“But what if I’m scared too, Quintin? What if they get away from us, like the last ones?” 

“They won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”

Amber eyes looked nervously into Quintin’s eyes before letting a smile stretch across his face. Harley took his time placing another kiss on the albino’s lips, stepping around him as he made his way to the human. 

“Then hurry back, I think we’ll both be looking forward to our first meal–as a family!”

Quintin smiled casually jumping out of the crater; smiling widely as watched Harley scoop you up with care. This time lightly running his nose along your head as he spoke, probably apologizing. 

The snake mutant made his way back to the mansion, not only planning to begin moving your things but also grabbing the food Margot brought especially for his baby. He had to calm himself when he found his tail unconsciously striking the trees around him. Chastizing himself, he didn’t want to knock all the trees down, he’s sure you’d love climbing them. 

“Oh right. We’ll have to talk with others, I bet they're dying to meet you.”

[xxbottlecapx]

I saw someone talk about this idea (can’t find them now) so- 

Steve is walking down the street and he hears the jingling of a dog collar so he turns around to ask to pet their dog but it’s just Eddie. 

Steve might have a meltdown. He seriously might. This was the worst day he’s had in a long fucking time. 

The day started with a fucking seizure, of all things, when Steve hasn’t had one in months, so he decided to go to the emergency room to get checked up just in case. 

The doctors said he was fine, the scans and blood tests came back just as normal, but he ended up missing lunch so he didn’t get to have down time with his best friend Robin, and she was the biggest reason he could manage his anxiety and PTSD.

His mom called him when he was at the hospital, even though she disowned him ten years ago when he was forced out of the closet as bisexual. He thought she wanted to talk but apparently her husband (Steve’s father, unfortunately) was dying and wanted Steve to help with the hospital bills considering apparently their business went under, which Steve hadn’t known about because he hasn’t seen them in ten years. It led to a fight over the phone which triggered another seizure, so he’s had two in one day. Because of his history with seizures, the hospital decided to let him go, which he wasn’t entirely sure would be a good idea, but what else were they supposed to do? It’s not like Steve knew. Besides, he’s pretty sure they were understaffed and maybe they just didn’t have a place for him. They just gave him some painkillers, gave him a form so he wouldn’t have to go to work for a week, and let him go after giving him an IV. Steve would have argued about the work thing, but the doctor was able to convince him that having a bad seizure in front of a bunch of toddlers might be a bad idea, even if they’ve dealt with his smaller ones before. 

He decided he would go for a run because that always relaxes him before remembering that he shouldn’t go running after having two seizures, so he decided to go for a walk instead. Of course, this only makes things worse for himself. First, he forgets to take his dog Farrah with him on the walk, and then he realizes that he’s wearing a thick knitted yellow sweater in 86 degree heat, also he lost his glasses somehow? 

He must have still had some postictal confusion left because he very quickly got lost and then he couldn’t find wherever the fuck he put his phone, so he couldn’t call Robin to pick him up, and it’s not like his anxiety would let him walk up to some random person and ask. 

It was getting dark, so he wasn’t going to approach a woman, which was something Robin had to teach, and Steve was kind of scared of men, which might be stupid because he was a man, and also taller than most men, but anxiety is a bitch so it’s not like he could argue with it. 

His heart beating outside his chest, Steve realized he very well could have a third seizure, or a panic attack if he didn’t calm the fuck down, so he went to hide behind a alley which just so happened to be behind a bar. 

That was fine. 

The music was dampened by the concrete wall and sometimes silence made Steve’s existential dread even worse. He missed his dog. Farrah was a white teacup chihuahua and Pomeranian mix that Steve had adopted from a shelter he had been volunteering at. She kept getting bullied for her size even when they put her in with the other babies, and the shelter asked someone to foster her. It was a foster fail but Steve didn’t regret it. 

Steve tried to think of her as he sat down, working on the deep breathing his therapist had told him about. Of course, Steve sat on the floor and got beer and gunk on his jeans, but he was so tired that he was past caring. 

A migraine was coming on, all of his bones hurt, and he had white spots dancing in his vision. His hands were shaking. It’s very possible he had a small seizure when he was getting here and he didn’t remember it, that happened sometimes. He really hoped Robin had done okay at school without him. They taught a kindergarten class together. He really should have called to get her an aid but it had slipped his mind and she was going to be pissed. 

He would just stay on the floor until he felt better. Then he’d call and apologize. 

He did remember to feed Farrah and she had some pads on his living room so she would be okay. When he got home he would give her a lot of treats. Maybe he would make Robin cupcakes. 

Steve’s nerves picked up when he heard someone open a door behind him. Luckily for him, he had a switchblade in his pocket (he got it from Max, and who knows where she got it from) so he could use that in case of an emergency if anyone tried to accost him. Then again, this was a bar, maybe they’d just think he was drunk and leave him alone. 

The jingling of a dog tag gets Steve’s attention, and suddenly he thinks he might actually cry if he doesn’t get to pet this dog right now. 

The person’s heavy footsteps get closer, the dog chain making cute clinking sounds, and Steve readily looks up to ask, even though his face is already red with embarrassment, because what if the person says no?

But then he sees the man’s thick-heeled boots, and then his leather jacket with all the metal spikes on the shoulders, and Steve thinks no, he doesn’t have to ask to pet the guys dog, and then he chokes when he realizes there isn’t any fucking dog. The man is wearing a collar. 

Steve tries to quickly shove his head between his legs, curl into a ball so the man might not notice him, but whatever sound he makes is enough to draw the guy's attention. Fuck. 

“Hey, what were you going to say? I saw you try to ask something.” The guys crouches down in front of Steve. Steve assumes the guy is going to beat him up for looking at him weird or something, but the man’s voice, while deep, is actually very calm. He has a few more chains hanging from his black jeans, which were absolutely shredded, and the clinking noise still reminds Steve of Farrah but now he’s embarrassed about it. Is he wearing fishnets under his jeans? Oh my god, Robin is going to kill Steve in the morning if this guy doesn’t kill him first. 

Steve thinks about answering but his words get clogged in his throat. Sure, he didn’t ask to pet the guy, but he thought about it, and his face burns and Steve wishes he could jump into the dumpster a few feet away. 

He must look weird, because the guy, already crouching down to him, gets closer until their knees are touching. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, very gently putting a heavily ringed hand on Steve’s arm. 

“I’m so sorry,” Steve sobbed, finally lifting his head to meet the guy's face. The dude’s hair is long, held up in a ponytail, which shows off the fact that he has an undercut with a pattern shaved on it. This man is absolutely terrifying, oh my God, how is Steve going to get out of this situation without dying? 

The guy's eyes widen at the words, but he keeps his movements slow as he places his hands against both of Steve’s trembling arms. Not constricting him, just pressing, just adding a bit of pressure. 

“You’re okay, I’m not angry.” The guy says soothingly, “You haven’t done anything. Why- why are you crying?” The guy’s voice goes high pitched, cracking a little. If Steve wasn’t so terrified, maybe he’d find it comforting. 

Steve doesn’t know what comes over him. He tells himself he’ll come up with something stupid, but his body hurts and lying takes a mental energy that Steve doesn’t have right now. His head pounds and the sound of his blood rushes past his ears. 

“Uh, I heard your collar and I thought you were a dog.” He whispered, putting his head between his knees again. “I was gonna ask to pet you. I’m so sorry.” He sounds absolutely mortified, which is good because he is. Why was he saying this? Steve was about to die and then Farrah would go back to the shelter and Robin would find another teacher and forget about him and no one would be able to teach Dustin to drive because he’s too annoying to keep a normal driving instructor- 

“You can pet me, if you want.” The guys interrupt Steve’s spiral. He moves so he’s sitting next to Steve, both their backs to the wall, his chains clinking all the while until their thighs are touching. Steve could briefly feel the dull spikes on the guys jacket pressing Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve’s brain completely blanks out. 

“…Uh-“ his hands are close to his chest, in fists, but mostly he’s just confused. Why is this guy being so nice to him? Steve thought he was a dog. He was never going to live this down. 

“I like petting.” The guy says, a small smirk on his face that brings charming wrinkles to his cheeks. Steve blushes. 

“Ca….” He can’t tell if the guy is serious, but the dude quickly pulls his hair out of his ponytail, shaking his head- like a dog. 

Maybe it’s just the seizure talking, but Steve tries to call his bluff. 

“Can I pet you?” Steve whispers, confusion and uncertainty lacing his shaking voice. 

“Yeah.” The dude replies calmly, tilting his head. 

Well, Steve realizes, now he kind of has to, doesn’t he? Shit. The guys hair looks really fucking soft. Steve’s allowed to touch it? 

Without knowing what else to do, Steve stiffly pats the guys on the head, which makes the guy laugh. Still, he doesn’t attempt to make Steve stop. In fact, he gets closer, until Steve’s arm is wrapped around his shoulder, playing with the hair on the crown of his head. Steve doesn’t really know what to do at first, but the dude smells really minty, but also like weed, and Steve doesn’t hate it as much as he thinks he should. He brushes his fingers through the guy's brown hair until there are no knots, letting his heart settle until the spots in his vision go away.

“So, what are you doing out here?” The guy asks quietly, letting Steve mess with his hair, his eyes are closed almost like he’s enjoying it. 

“I got lost.” Steve starts. The guy hums, so Steve continues. “I, uh, I had a few seizures this morning, and I got confused and got lost and I can’t find my phone or my glasses-“ Steve only realizes he’s rambling when the guy gives him a very concerned look. 

“Do I need to get you to a hospital?” He asks, clearly trying not to frighten Steve. 

“Oh? No, no, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Steve said, almost absently as he braided a small strand of the guy's hair. He tried to focus on that instead of the raging headache he has crawling up his spine. “I went to the emergency room already, this is normal, it happens a lot, it’s just been a bad day. I’m sorry.” 

He can feel the guy nod, his body relaxing slightly. His hand casually moves to touch Steve’s collar with the tips on his fingers, his short nails painted black. 

“Your glasses are on your shirt.” 

Steve looks down where his glasses were hanging off the collar of his sweater. He blanches. 

“Shit, thank you. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, hurriedly putting them on. His face goes hot, and he wants to sink into the floor. He might cry again, he was so embarrassed. 

“Can you call someone?” The guy asks, not bringing up the panic on Steve’s face, which Steve is mighty grateful for because bringing it up will make him cry, he thinks. 

Steve shakes his head, “I lost my phone. Sorry.” He chokes out. 

“Can I call someone?” The guy specifies. 

That’s a really good idea. Sure, it’s getting dark, but Robin always has time for him. She’s probably out of work and blowing up his phone trying to contact him. She might even have broken into Steve’s apartment by now. 

Steve closes his eyes, trying to push past the fog in his brain. The only thing it does is add pressure to the backs of his eyes. 

“I… I can’t remember any numbers right now, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He puts his hand over his mouth to stop himself from speaking. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The guy delicately pressed his palm to Steve’s shoulder, which draws attention to the fact that Steve’s breathing has sped up again. 

Steve gulps, blinking hard to stop himself from tearing up. He feels so fucking stupid. 

“Uh, with chronic seizures, there’s this thing, called a- uh, postictal state,” he tries to explain, voice way more breathy than he would like. He’s gripping maybe a bit too firmly to the frayed ends of the guy’s hair but he makes no move to stop him. “Which I like to say just means my brain hasn’t, hasn’t caught up to my body, like it’s, um, still processing.“

The guy nods, taking Steve’s rambling with grace. “Do you like champurrado?” He asks, Steve opens his mouth, closing it, opening it again. The guy nods, hurrying to explain himself. 

“We could go to my apartment and I could make you some. You look like you could eat. I made albondigas yesterday. When you can remember, we’ll call someone.” 

Steve really shouldn’t. This guy has already been too nice to him. Steve didn’t want to impose. Also, the guy was very kind, yeah, but Robin would kill him if he got hurt following this dude somewhere. But then Steve takes stock of the aches in his body. If he didn’t go with the guy, what would he do? Sit here all night? It was going to get cold and Steve’s anxiety wouldn’t let him sleep outside in the dark in an alleyway behind a bar playing very loud, aggressive metal music. 

Steve sighs, defeated. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry.” He felt like he was doing something wrong. 

The guys smile brightly, almost blindingly so. He stands, chains jingling, and holds out a hand for Steve to take it. 

“You gotta stop saying sorry, man, you just had what, two seizures? It’s fi- holy shit.” 

The man’s hands were soft, which Steve wasn’t expecting, save for a few well placed calluses on his fingers. Steve tried not to think about it as he stood and wiped some gunk off his jeans, staring at the messy floor before figuring out something was wrong. He looked up, and the dude was staring up at Steve with his eyes wide, mouth agape. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Steve whispers, folding in on himself a little. What the fuck did he do now? 

The music rages on, but now it’s overwhelming. He feels static in his head. 

The guy’s heavily tattooed arms were held limply at his sides, “You- you’re really fucking tall.” He says unabashedly. 

Steve gulps, trying to shrink a little to make himself smaller, like that may alleviate the problem. Unfortunately, thought he did this often, It did mean he had terrible posture so his neck began to hurt. 

“Oh, I’m really sorry.” Steve wouldn’t look at him. 

“Why are you apologizing? It’s hot.” The guy says, Steve’s head shoots up to look at him as they stare at each other until the dude realizes what he just said. “Wait, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” The guy puts his hands up, a nervous huff coming out past his lips as he was the one to start panicking now. 

Steve can’t help but let out a small laugh, covering his mouth with his hands. He’s never had someone say he’s hot in such a way, he couldn’t help but be a bit flattered.  Steve nods so the dude knows he isn’t upset by the random comment. Steve’s face was already red, and now he couldn’t even tell why. 

The guy’s eyes brighten, if that were possible. 

“Okay, let’s go. I’m Eddie.” He says, motioning for Steve to follow him. It takes a second for Steve to get the memo, with how slow his brain is working, so Eddie cautiously takes Steve’s arm in the way Steve watches men do in old movies. 

“I’m Steve. Thank you.” Steve, honest to God, giggled. Maybe he should be worrying about his dad and the fight he had with his mother, but he tries not to think about it. They’re not his problem, and he has better things to do. 

He does have to look down to see Eddie’s face when they’re not sitting, but that’s normal for Steve. He’s a few heads taller than most people he knows, and he works with kids so he’s obviously taller than them. He kind of just forgets, most of the time. No one else has mentioned it. His height was why he was so popular in high school before the seizures and anxiety messed it all up, though Steve is grateful he isn’t a bitch anymore. He’s only about a head and a half taller than Eddie, though. 

Eddie laughs, and it’s a cracky, beautiful sound. “You’re welcome, big boy.” 

Steve squints at Eddie as he leads him down the street. “Big boy?” He asks. As they get farther from the bar, there are less and less people out on the streets. No one jostles Steve, though, probably on account of the guy next to him, covered head to toe in spikes with black eye makeup. 

“Really? Do you not see how large you are?” Eddie continued, looking up at Steve like he was insane as he led him to the left, then the right. “It’s honestly kind of scary.”

“Me?” Steve wasn’t scary, this guy had it wrong. Sure, he was big, but nothing about him was frightening. Steve couldn’t remember the last person he met who actually looked afraid of him. None of his students ever were. 

“Yeah, you!” 

“I’m not scared.” Steve protested, though he was also smiling. “If anything, you’re scary.” 

Eddie throws his head back dramatically, covering his face with his curly hair. The bandana in his back pockets whips around.

“Why thank you.” Eddie grins, “Just so you know, flattery works on me.” He continued until they got to what appeared to be Eddie’s apartment building. Steve held on to his arm tighter. Eddie's dramatics calm him a little. 

“I have a dog, so you can pet a real one.” Eddie teases, unlocking the door with his free arm. “Her name is Ozzy, she’s a Doberman Great Dane mix, so I hope big dogs don’t scare you. I promise she’s not violent.” There’s something in his voice that tells Steve there’s something else. 

Steve smiles softly, “She sounds perfect.”

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of The Giggle - Part Six Excerpt from Benjamin Cook's DWM #597 Interview with Catherine Tate (with guest appearance by David Tennant)

"Do you know, we went to an escape room with Neil? He loves them. It was his birthday while we were here…” [ Neil Patrick Harris ] celebrated his 49th while filming Doctor Who in Bristol last month. By day, he donned the Toymaker’s tux and shimmied gleefully on the streets. By night, he took David and Catherine out to dinner, then on to Worlds Collide, Bristol’s best – and only – Doctor Who-themed escape room. Players are given 60 minutes to work out how to close a tear in the fabric of spacetime, before the Cybermen break through (the Toymaker has fought the Cybermen!!). “He’d booked it out,” says Catherine. “He’d shut down the whole place [for the night] and they let us in.” “Proper Hollywood,” says David. “Innit, though! That’s old money, that is,” she laughs. “And Jodie [Whittaker’s Doctor] turns up,” says David. “She was on a PA. As if –” “– as if she’s calling you. And there was a scarf. And a sonic screwdriver.” “And a Cyberman.” “A Cyberman head, yeah.” Aren’t Catherine and David… you know, overqualified for a Doctor Who escape room? “I was quite hopeful,” he says. “I thought, these are puzzles I’m going to be able to solve. But then–” “There were chess pieces,” says Catherine, in much the same tone of voice in which Donna once informed the Doctor that Santa’s a robot. “I mean, oh my God! Sorry, but how the hell –?” Neil was brilliant at it, though. “He was annoyingly good.” The Toymaker and his games are quite notorious. “Yes, because then he went, ‘Let’s do another one! We’re gonna do the World War Two room.’ That’s when I came to life.” “It’s true,” says David. “I loved that one. It was great. We were spies and we’d infiltrated a Nazi bunker.” “It involved a bit more role play, didn’t it? Very Toymaker. And zome outrageous ack-sents!” “But after the Doctor Who one,” says Catherine, “it was clear that Neil and David were better at it. There was a clear division between the coulds and the could-nots. So Neil and David went into one room, and me, [executive producer] Phil Collinson, and Charlie [De Melo], who plays… is it Charles Banerjee? [glimpsed in last year’s Christmas Day trailer, rushing through the rain towards Mr Emporium’s toyshop] – went in another room. I’d said to Phil and Charlie, ‘Let’s cut the deadwood and go into a room on our own.’ You do it against each other, and see who gets out first. “So me, Charlie and Phil had a right old laugh,” recalls Catherine, cracking up, “while David and Neil went off and… got out much quicker. Midway through ours, they’d already finished and were watching us scrabble around trying to get out of our German bunker.” She chuckles at the memory. “Then suddenly through the PA comes: ‘DONNAAA!!!’” David says nothing, but he looks very pleased with himself.

Also, from Charlie De Melo's Instagram:

I'm struggling to think of a stranger evening than one, last June, doing a @bbcdoctorwho themed escape room, with The Doctor, Donna and the Toymaker. David and Neil, it turns out, are *very* good at escape rooms. The rest of us, less so. They rushed around the room, picking up clues and turning switches and all manner of other things, whilst the rest of us looked on, utterly bemused (& a little tooty in my case). So on they powered. Leaving us scratching our heads in a room full of disembodied Cybermen ones. Before confusion could give way to frustration, the tannoy crackled. It was David. They'd somehow managed to finish the entire thing whilst we all had stood still where we'd been left. Although he'd lost his lilting, melodic, Scottish brogue. He was now The Doctor. And in the Doctor's voice he began barking orders at us, talking us through the puzzles and guiding us out of whatever wibbly wobbly mess we were in and back to the safety of Bristol. "Donna! Quick! You have to get them out of there, the Cybermen are coming!"

For other posts in this set, please see the #whoBtsGiggle tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

[i-wanna-write]

If One’s Different, One’s Bound to be Lonely - Wolverine Fic - Part 1

Fic Synopsis: We know Wolverine and Sabertooth but the reader is known as Jackal. Just like the other two, their mutation is animalistic, lending them healing factors, enhanced physical abilities, and animal senses. This fic details their relationship with the Anchor!Wolverine and how they ended up meeting the Worst!Logan

Chapter Warnings: violence, cussing, lewd comments/thoughts, reader is described as female

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: I’ve had this idea since I saw Deadpool and Wolverine so I figured I’d give it a go! I wanted to write Worst!Logan and SacredTimeline!Reader but wanted some backstory. Well, the backstory turned into backstories which then turned into this mini fic. Not sure how many parts there will be but no more than 10. This will start from when the reader was born, through snippets of the X-Men movies before FINALLY making its way to D&P. There's obviously going to be changes in scenes due to the reader and it's a fic so I can change what I want! I also love how Wolverine and Sabertooth are brothers in Origins so went with that. The timeline is also a little sketchy because D&W is set in 2024 and Logan 2029 but they discuss how Logan died already… so just bear with me on that… Let me know what you think!

\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///

You were born in 1895 to two loving parents. They were older than the average parents, having struggled to conceive but finally being blessed with you. You were their pride and joy, providing you with all the clothes, toys, furniture, games, and literature you wanted.

You were a secluded child. You preferred being alone and were grateful for being an only child. You hated sharing your things and talking to others.

You were also a sick and frail child. You always caught a cold or broke a bone, or got a scratch. Your parents dragged you to numerous doctors, trying to find a reason for your ailments. It wasn’t until you hit puberty that the truth was revealed.

You were a mutant.

Your genetics carried an X gene and had different DNA then your parents.

A week laid up in bed with a constant fever, sweats, and chills, it was finally revealed when your fingernails elongated into claws, the rest of your baby teeth spilling out and adults ones replacing them. Only they were all razor sharp and could easily shred anything.

Your parents were hysterical at first. They prayed and waited for their miracle child but were terrified at first to learn that she was a mutant.

That she was different.

Your sense of sight was keener than the average human, you heard like a bat, your smell like a bloodhound. You no longer got sick. If you received an injury it healed in a matter of seconds.

Your parent’s initial fear turned into protectiveness and soon you were shut in - no longer allowed all the things you wanted. Your parents kept you at home, not letting you mingle with others your age in fear of something happening to you… Or you doing something to someone else.

As you grew older, you finally escaped your parents and never looked back. You moved around, being adaptable and able to change at any given moment and go with the flow of the environment. You were cunning and evaded anyone or thing you wanted to without thinking twice. And just like in childhood, you grew to be more territorial. You valued all your personal items and were always willing to defend what you called yours.

Through much research over your first years on your own - you were able to determine that all these traits were similar to that of an animal.

A Jackal.

Known for the same personality traits of your own, this dog breed also sported sharp teeth in all regions of their mouth and just as sharp claws to take down their prey. Soon, that's what you became known as.

You moved through the years alone, never staying in one place for more than a year due to the world's hate towards mutants. You often found secluded cabins and would purchase what you needed at a store, then hunted on your own for protein - using your abilities to your advantage.

If someone caused a problem for you, a man making a sexist comment. Someone shit talking other mutants. You didn’t hesitate to take them out. Your instincts would take over in that moment and your claws would disembowel them or your teeth rip out their throat.

Sometime during the 1950s, you were staying in a Montana cabin you found, the nearest town miles away. Occasionally, you would frequent a bar there, wanting a moment to feel the whiskey slide down. It was in that bar that you met two other mutants for the first time.

You were seated alone at a table in the tavern, dressed in slacks, a button shirt, and jacket, A cap was on your head, hiding your long hair to make it appear short. Making you appear like a man.

You were nursing a whisky on the rocks, allowing the liquid to burn your throat and sooth your day. The bar wasn’t too busy, filled with men after a day of work. Two were seated at the bar, another alone at a table than solely the bartender handing out drinks.

You smelt them before they entered. One smelt like copper, the other smoke. As they entered and made their way to the bar, you examined their appearance. Both dressed in jeans and dark jackets, the copper one appeared shorter but with broader shoulders. His hair was buzzed to his head with stubble lining his jaw. He moved with confidence, acting as he owned the establishment and everyone should part for him to make way.

The smoky one was taller, shoulders not as wide but perhaps weighing more due to his height. His hair was longer, curling behind his ears towards his neck with tufts on either side. His jaw was also lined in stubble, but rather than walking like he owned the place, he walked with ease, as if he knew people were staring but could care less about it.

Your eyes followed them as they ordered, noting how the other patrons seemed to watch them too, as if all of you were aware that they could be dangerous. You returned your attention back to your drink when you got a whiff of something you haven’t before. Despite their initial scents, they both smelt off - different than all the other humans you’ve been around your life. They smelt… almost wild.

You were taken from your thoughts when the seat across from you suddenly became occupied. You looked up and saw the two men seated across from you, both with a drink in hand. The shorter one spread his body on the chair, his left arm around the taller ones.

“What’s a woman like you doing in here?” The shorter one asked, nodding his head towards you.

“Women?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

So far, no one has been able to distinguish your true gender. How could these new patrons know?

“Can smell the difference Bub.” The taller one said as if it was obvious.

While his companion was spread out, the larger man surprisingly took up a smaller space. His forearms rested on the table, fingers clasped in front.

“Smell?” You repeated, feigning ignorance.

“Come on Frail. We can smell you’re a woman and smell you’re a mutant like us, quit playing stupid.” The shorter one growled, a look of anger on his face. “Never met a woman mutant like us though.” He added a malicious smirk on his lips. He turned to look at the other one, as if wanting him to comment as well but to no avail.

You’ve never met another mutant before. Period.

“Well, pleased to have checked that box off your list.” You smile, quickly finishing your drink before slamming it on the table, rising to flee. “Have a good night gentlemen.”

One of them smelling like blood and acting as he did, you knew they were trouble - and you’ve avoided trouble for so long the past years you weren’t about to start getting into it. You went to leave but the taller man grabbed your arm suddenly, claw like knives slowly breaking the skin of his knuckles and leaving them, puncturing your skin.

“We weren’t finished talking.” He said, finally showing some emotion as a smile graced his face.

You quickly yanked your arm back, watching as your skin healed itself, blood now stained on the sleeve of your jacket.

“Have a seat frail,” The shorter one added, smirk still on his face. “We want to get to know you.”

You sat back down. You wish you didn’t finish your whiskey as you tired to make your escape, no longer having something to fiddle in your hands.

You look up at the men and see them both staring back at you, as if taking you in. You know what they see. A woman with H/C hair hidden underneath a hat with just enough to be seen on your forehead. Eyebrows to match that have strands out of place and eyelashes that prissy girls would kill for circling your E/C eyes.

You do the same, truly taking in the men if they’re going to be talking with you. Assessing you. Determining if you’re a threat or not.

You observe the shorter one first, seeing him as the larger threat of the two. His eyebrows are bushy despite his short hair and has wrinkles on his forehead. He continued to wear a malicious smile and has subtle dimples on either side but they make him appear menacing rather than childlike. His eyes are green and hold a dark tint, as if he’s thinking about fucking you or killing you. Maybe both.

You move to look at the taller one and notice that his expression is almost unreadable, except his mouth is curled up slightly in a snarl. His eyes are a deep brown, holding only mistrust and curiosity, as if solely reading everything about you. His bottom his lip is full, the top one smaller but shaped perfectly despite the snarl.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” The shorter one repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Drinking. What else do you do in a tavern?” You bite back, shooting him a dark look.

He looks around as if debating his answer before saying, “Some drink.” He shrugs. “Others bring a girl in and fuck her in the bathroom.”

You grimace at the thought of doing that act with him. You’d pick the taller one if it was between life and death if you had to choose. At least the taller one looks like he’d make it quick.

“I’m sure you have to drag them back there as no women would glance your way.”

You know you shouldn’t egg him on but you can’t help it. You have just as sharp of a bite to back up your bark and you’re not afraid to use it. Even if it’s against two other feral mutants.

“Hmph.” The man says.

You watch as he reaches his right hand out, going for a handshake. His hand resembles a paw, his nails replaced with claws and sharp as knives. Your eyes travel to his face and now notice how his canines are sharper than an average humans. Perhaps attributed to his mutation.

“Victor Creed. This runt is my brother James Howlett.” He finally introduced.

Two can play at this game.

You elongate your own nails, showing off your claws. You then smile, teeth sharpening to show off points on all of them, not just your canines. You reach over and clasp his hand in your own.

“Y/N L/N.” You tell them, causing him to smile wider.

You let go of his his hand and look at the other one. “I’m not shaking your hand since you already sliced me, asshole.”

He merely shrugs. “Not offended Bub.”

This time you notice how deep and gruff his voice it. It sends goosebumps throughout you and you hope neither can notice it.

“What do you two want?” You ask, switching your gaze between them.

“Like I said, never met a female frail before. And based on your reaction, guessing you've never met another mutant ever.” Victor says.

It’s your turn to shrug. “I like being alone and keeping to myself.” Simple and to the point.

“Why’s that? Afraid you’re gonna kill someone with those claws? Too weak to fight off the instinct to sink your teeth into their neck?” Victor leans forward, looking intently at you for your answer.

He’s right. Of course he is, having hit the nail on the coffin. You’re a loner by mutation and learned that being around others only causes harm by your hand. It’s better to be alone and comfortable, rather then surrounded by prey.

“So what if I am? Can still take your ass down.” You say nonchalantly, trying not to appear bothered by how easily he read you.

He laughs, it sounding hoarse and dry. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Somehow I think you’d enjoy that. Don’t wanna end up in the bathroom with you.” You retort back.

You notice then how the taller one barely talks. He seems to have an air of indifference around him. Like he’s just here because Victor is and has no interest in the conversion. Or you.

“Tell me, how old are you? Gotta be young if you’ve never met another mutant before.”

You watch as he takes a sip of his whiskey, again upset at yourself for downing yours. You think about stealing James due to his lack of participation but think better of it, not wanting him to slice you again.

“I was born in 1895.” You reveal, holding your gaze with Victors.

“Awe Jimmy.” He coos, bumping his elbow into his brothers arm. “She’s just a kitten compared to us.”

You growl at that, not liking the mocking tone. This man was starting to get on your nerves. His gaze keeps drifting down to your chest, as if he has x-ray vision to see your breasts. The other isn’t giving anything and you wish he would, seeming to be the more sane one of the two. If you take out the part where he cut you.

“What? You guys my long lost grandfathers or something trying to bring me home?” You question, arching an eyebrow.

They looked to be your age but based on what Victor has said and you’ve seen, their mutations really are similar to yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if they were older than you. You want to know more about them - you have to. The first people like you since you’ve discovered you're a mutant. Maybe you won't feel so lonely anymore due to your difference form others

“1831 and 1835.” James finally speaks, lowering his whiskey from his mouth.

“Doesn’t answer if you are my grandfathers.” You point out.

“Not your grandfather frail. Quite trying to be cute.” Victor cuts in. “Now, based on your claws and teeth, you’re definitely like us, not just by scent. So what? You got some wolf? Some crocodile? You hiding scales underneath those clothes?”

You laugh, your voice light in the air before you remember where you are and what you’re pretending to be.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You snap back, baring all your canines at him.

“She’s a Jackal Vic.” James says. “Hates being around others. Easily blends into her environment. Able to will her nails to claws and all teeth shape as canines. Makes sense”.

“One point to brains.” You point to James, winking at him. “Zero points to brawn.” You point to Victor.

Said man goes to speak but you don’t let him, continuing. “You’ve got your own set of claws and canines. You’ve been trying to manipulate me and the situation this entire time, proving your cunningness. And you seem to try to include James here, I’m assuming your younger brother, into the conversion because you value family. Making you similar to a Sabertooth.” Something you thought you might’ve been before discovering your similarities with a Jackal.

Victor raises his eyebrows in surprise, not thinking you’d be able to guess their own mutation like James had yours.

“Meanwhile,” you turn to James, “You seem to hate being around other people as much as me. Your quiet but observe everything around you, making sure you have an escape. You were able to debunk what my mutation was, suggesting you’re smart. If I didn’t see your claws earlier, I would’ve guessed you to be a Jackel like me.” You finish.

You watch as James leans forward, both arms resting on the table as his face gets closer to you. You stare into the deep brown and feel yourself getting lost for just a moment before being pulled back.

“So what does that make me?” He questions, curious of your conclusion.

“A wolverine.” You state.

With that reveal, you make your escape. You quickly exit the table, knowing this time to not walk by it as you exit the tavern. You push open the door with one hand and start to pick up your pace. There are people lingering outside and you don’t want to draw attention.

You reach the edge of the forest, taking the cap from your head and letting your H/C locks free. You run a hand through them, trying to catch your thoughts and slow your heart rate at the run-in you just had.

You two sets of footsteps rush up behind you and take a breath, smelling Victor and James. A hand reaches out and lands on your shoulder but you immediately grab it, turning to your right to face your attacker.

A crack is heard throughout the first floor as you break Victor’s arm and don’t hesitate. Your teeth elongate to canines, your face moving to his neck and grabbing it. You bite down, blood immediately rushing into your mouth as you grab a chunk out of him.

You let go and push him away, watching as he staggers back and James stands at his side, hands in his pocket. You spit the flesh out of your mouth and grin at both men.

“If you guys have heard anything about the Jackal, you’ll know to leave me the fuck alone.”

You leave it at that, turning on your heel and walking off into the forest, leaving an angered Victor and impressed James behind you.

\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///

Stay tuned for Part 2!

[lady-ashfade]

Hi! How about Yandere! Frankenstein's monster? Maybe Reader was the doctor's younger sibling?

—£ Yandere!Male!Frankenstein x gn!teen!reader( platonic pairing)

—£ thank you for being my first question for the new thing I’m trying out! Forgive me because I haven’t listened to the story in ages, but lets go on a New Journey together?

—£ warning: yandere behavior, stalking, making up my own story, over all just wholesome

You weren’t supposed to be at his house. This was no place for a child but you had been forced to stay with him.

Your older brother never liked you much and found you annoying. So much younger, so small minded.

So when you moved in his house you could only go a few places, your room, the kitchen and the living room.

So you payed mind to your own things other then him which was great because he didn’t pay any attention to you anyway.

You hated the basement and you’ve never go in there. Your brother would disappear in there for hours and you couldn’t hear anything. It freaked you out. He was odd.

Which is why you should have stayed away from the banging on the door. It was loud and heavy like a large beast was clawing at the door. And deep groaning of what you think was a man scared you.

But it sounded scared and pleading and your heart couldn’t handle it. But with your luck it would be a bear or a wolf, something angered probably by your brother.

Though, you didn’t expect to find a man about five times your size- If you could call him a man. His skin was green with stitches in his skin and bolts around his neck.

He was no man.

He saw you look at him with fear as you stepped back, “Holy-” one wrong move and your death could be near.

He mumbled words but you couldn’t understand anything. He was trying to speak but clearly couldn’t.

He made no fast movements towards you. His eyes wide and you notice that look in his eyes. Fear.

He was scared of you? Why would be be scared of a young teen?

“Uhh…Are you okay?” He didn’t seem to understand you either.

So you showed him he had nothing to fear but the two of you were still worry about each other. But you came around.

He likes it when you smiled at him. You didn’t shout at him, you didn’t hurt him. You were nice.

I think he would think about you often after that. When the doctor came home you told him you found the man in the basement.

“You have been keeping him in the basements this whole time? What is wrong with you?”

Now your brother didn’t want to hurt you. But you forced your way into things that weren’t yours to know. But he agreed to let you see him a few times, though it was only a experiment.

And each time he would acted like a child when he saw you. Happy to see you, and like listening to you speak.

Which is why you read to him each time you saw him. He loved it. Brought him small things so he could be entertained when you were away.

Then he was able to go out into the world. Only with you. He walked behind you while you went to school, something your brother told him to do but he didn’t mind. Even if you didn’t know he was there.

He’d protect you any chance you got. Finding the boys who picked on you and gave them nightmares if he didn’t end up killing them. Or somehow hurting the girls as well, like cutting their hair or making them trip around the neighborhood.

“You know, one day I’m going to take you and move to Hollywood.” You said while looking into the magazine in your hand, “Don’t you think I’d be perfect on stage?” He mumble in agreement.

He’d get rid of your brother one day, chock him to death. And kill anyone he needed to make your dreams come true.

“My sibling.” But his words only came out in muffled and groans. You sometimes didn’t know what he was saying but you didn’t mind.

[weirdworldofwinnie]

A Safe Way Out

Jonathan Breech x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only)

Summary: You're a very shy patient at the psychiatric hospital and the newest inpatient part of the therapy group has to be the cutest man you've ever seen, and he takes an interest in you, but he's not quite as innocent as he looks.

Word Count: ~3,384

Warnings: Smut (unprotected sex), loss of virginity/innocent reader, cum squirting, oral (fem receiving), mental illness, past trauma, talk of depression and suicide, some angst, language

Disclaimer: This just fantasy/fiction, I do not own anything from the 2001 Irish film On the Edge starring Cillian Murphy.

Breech, Jonathan.

He was surely the prettiest person you'd ever witnessed admitted to this institution that he could make both men and even women jealous, even though his pajamas were ill-fittingly too short and he had a cocky attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the staff and other patients, but he wasn't a total asshole... at least you hoped.

At the couple of group therapy sessions he attended he was rebellious, giving the always tired (but very patient) Dr. Figure grief through ample sarcasm that made you stifle smirks, but as usual you never spoke much, being selectively mute unless you were forced to answer a question from Dr. Figure. They didn't give any drugs to dope up; the doctor didn't think you nor the small group you were part of needed them, but sometimes you wished they would so you didn't have to participate in these stupid sessions that went in half-spun circles and could just conk out in your room or outside.

You had been submitted here by your estranged parents after a series of concerning events that you had tried to mentally block out, including attempting to take your own life because of bullying and abuse; you were not able to ever acclimate fully to society because of it, which led you to being stuck in this place, mentally spinning wheels while growing more and more wary of the outside world everyday. Jonathan was the opposite; he had a spark of defiance and a fire you didn't have enough oxygen for to nourish for yourself. He clearly didn't think he really belonged here and in a way, you sort of admired him even if he was a bit strange and potentially dangerous... He was certainly an exciting refresher in such a dull, day-to-day drudgery.

One day after walking out of yet another mildly frustrating therapy session, he stepped in front of you in the hall as you were making your way back to your room alone, a curious light in his stunningly blue excuses for eyeballs.

"Hey, you mind if I join ya in your room?" he asked suddenly and you froze, uncertain of how to react. You only ever minimally interacted one-on-one with people you trusted... Fellow patient Nick kept saying Jonathan wasn't to be trusted, but Nick was also kind of a paranoid weirdo that always was listening to his headphones, so what did he know?

Jonathan seemed to sense your hesitation and he grinned, trying to put you at ease or maybe he was just messing with you. Either way, you had to hide your intrigue in case he was pulling your leg.

"Don't look spooked out, I'm just so fucking bored at this place and you're pretty cute, but you never really talk... I just wanna get to know ya better," he explained sincerely, but you still felt wary.

"Can I see your room at least?" he asked innocently and you finally gave him a shy nod, causing him to smile in broad relief that reminded you of the last rays of sunlight splashing upon the cliffs.

He walked along beside you, swinging his arms back and forth a bit as if he was winding himself up, all the way to your room and past an orderly who gave him a suspicious glance, but you gave the man a thumbs up to let him know it was fine. Security here was surprisingly not as strict as one would imagine for a psychiatric hospital and the younger patients tended to sneak out once a week to the city with minimal repercussions. They always came back anyway.

You reached your designated room and opened the door slowly, and Jonathan strolled in after you, sighing loudly.

"Oh, would'ja look at that - they gave you the fanciest room they've got," he commented sarcastically as you sat down on the small bed, tucking your knees up to your chest and he stood, surveying you and scene for a second and then joining to sit, copying your posture. He fiddled with his slippers for a minute and then turned to you curiously.

"So lemme get this right: You only talk when or if you have ta?"

"Yeah," you mumbled and he nodded sagely.

"That's an interesting way to deal with people. Don't blame ya, lot of wanks out there not worth being spoken to. What's your name - I mean, I know it from the meeting, but can you say it?" he asked, however unlike any doctor, it wasn't clinical or judgmental. He truly seemed interested and so you whispered your first name aloud to the floor.

"It's a nice name. How old are you?" You could hear the smile in his deep voice.

"T-Twenty two," you responded with a slight stutter, too fluttery to be able to meet his gaze.

"Fuck, that's older than me... I'm nineteen, but you know already know that. You ever been anywhere outside of Dublin?"

You looked away, not answering. If you ever had, you'd been too small to remember.

"How long you've been here?" he asked curiously and you splayed your hand, palm up towards him.

"Five weeks or five years?"

"Years," you whispered and he was silent for a few minutes, picking at the hem of his baby blue pajama pants.

"So much for the road to recovery, eh?" he scoffed and you just shrugged.

He put his legs down, feet flat on the floor and crossing his arms tight to his chest, wearing that oversized silly orange patterned sweater of his. He sniffed and bit his lip, glancing up at the bare ceiling as if he would find the answers to existence there.

"Something happened to you, I know. Shit, something happened to us all here. It's okay if you don't wanna or can't talk 'bout it. But I can't figure out if you have the same thoughts me and the others have? You know, what the doc locks us up for... suicidal? Like there's no fucking point to this blip of existence? And they think we're nuts, but we just seein' the truth."

You slowly pulled up your sleeve, exposing the faint scars etched into your left wrist, remnants of cutting attempts to escape life before you had been dumped off in this place indefinitely. You had never tried it since and were now an adult and could seek the means to leave if you truly wanted to, but there was nothing out there in the world for you.

"See this pinky finger?" Jonathan asked suddenly, poking up his baby finger and you nodded, interested.

"I was just trying to get rid of what was left of me old Da and the damn car didn't do the job right. Could've broken neck but all I broke was me baby finger. Least you've got the scars there to prove survivin'." He sighed heavily, almost disappointed, and you spoke the first sentence you had in days, your voice hushed from disuse.

"Why do ya wanna die?"

He blinked, giving you a meaningful glance and his full lips stretched into a tight ironic smile.

"I don't want to die; I don't want to be alive. I'm just a fucking living ghost, we all are... Doesn't that realization scare the wits outta ya?"

He looked away at the wall, blinking as the drippy tears escaped and his mouth quivered in quiet anguish, his dewy face scrunching up. You reached over and touched his cheek, catching a tear rolling down his smooth pallid skin and wiping it off tenderly. He sniffled, embarrassed, and gently took your wrist and whispered emphatically.

"I like you, Y/N. You don't freak out or talk down to me or bitch about your own problems. You're unique, but I'm thinking ya too cute to be truly crazy."

"Cute?" you repeated and he grinned at hearing your high breathy voice.

"Don't be so afraid to talk, you got a pretty voice. Bet nobody be calling ya cute in a long time, right?"

You shrugged sheepishly and he tilted your chin up with his fingers, tracing the outline of your face fondly and you blushed, not used to being touched by anyone like that. It was... comforting, a feeling you had been very numb to for some time. His pinkish lips parted and he tilted his head slightly, mouth gaping in anticipation for a kiss but you froze, unsure and not wanting to take the lead.

"I want a kiss," he murmured and the way he said it made you draw closer, trusting the process. He closed his eyes and blindly groped your lips, sucking, and then his tongue dove in with a surprising force, swirling around your mouth and he gripped the sides of your head in a vice, cutting off any resistance... Not that you were repulsed in any way once the initial shock wore off.

He broke away after several seconds, gasping and licking his lips hungrily.

"Mm, didja like that?"

Your cheeks became pink and he glanced over your head at the windowpanes being pattered with a steady rain and it was growing dimmer outside, evening approaching with a cloaking storm, and it reflected in the dull colors of the room that was becoming muted of natural light.

"Can I show you something?" he asked huskily, shifting on the bed restlessly.

You ducked your chin in affirmative, heart fluttering in uncertainty as he reached to yank his sweater and pajama shirt over his head, leaving him with a bare chest. You stared, fascinated in his anatomy; it had been so long since you'd seen anyone without some clothing on. He grinned, pointing awkwardly to your own chest.

"So, uh, now this... this'll be the part where you remove your garment," he instructed and cautiously, you unbuttoned your pj's and you never wore a bra, so soon he was facing your naked breasts with your nipples hardening from the airy exposure.

"Really cute," he breathed, gently putting a finger to your right nipple and pressing lightly, stroking around the center and then drawing a line to the other breast, doing the same to that one and you shivered, feeling a strange pull in your stomach that was borderline butterflies. He leaned back, bouncing up slightly on the bed and kicking his slippers off to the floor.

"But hold on, there's more to see," he said with a verging mischievous excitement. You'd never seen him look so genuinely joyful and as he tugged down his pj bottoms, you blinked, faced with a protruding bugle in his white underwear.

After a beat, he removed his boxers, springing forth a stiff appendage that you'd never in the flesh on a man, well, in its erect state at least.

"Want to touch it? It doesn't bite," Jonathan joked with a lazy grin and you cautiously extended a hand and put your fingers on the glistening tip. It was definitely moist and firmly solid, and he shuddered through a breath of arousal.

"Wet," you observed and he laughed, scooting closer so his penis was resting in your hands.

"I like it when you touch me there, don't stop," he begged and you felt him up, amused at his reaction.

He twitched in your palms as you ran careful fingers up his fleshy length and to his balls, lightly petting the coarse dark hair nesting around them, and he shivered pleasurably, resisting the urge to already ejaculate.

"Feelin' good?" you asked fondly, seeing his mouth agape and eyes nearly rolling back.

"Too fuckin' good, need to stop before I cum too quick. Wanna enjoy this... Lemme have at that pussy of yours now instead of using me dick, m'kay?"

You could tell it wasn't a question, but you weren't sure what he meant entirely. You eased off his genitalia, cock dripping slightly, and sat back, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Here," Jonathan murmured and his hands went to your waist, teasing down the waistband of your pj's and pushing the pants down your legs, letting you wiggle out and kick them to the floor, along with your slippers. He stared for a full ten seconds at your womanhood, biting his lip and swirling his tongue around his mouth, before he bent down and spread your legs apart. You tried to ask him what was going to happen, but he dove in already, tongue flicking at your delicate folds with attempted precision. You gasped audibly at the new sensation and he clamped hands down on your thighs, clinging on as he maneuvered his thick tongue faster and you grabbed at a fistful of his hair, shaking from the unfamiliarity and equal anticipation as your body seemed to take control of natural instincts and budding arousal grew stronger.

He just wanted to warm you up though, and he withdrew his tongue soon, lips glistening with a tiny smear of discharge. Your bare chest rose and fell in rhythm as he surveyed the fresh terrain, just aching for more. You very well might be a complete virgin and that prospect tantalized him yet also privately frightened him of messing up. Of course he'd been with girls before, but they weren't this sheltered and sweet. He may corrupt you and alter the course of this extremely new friendship, which in his mind was always meant to become more of a relationship; the moment he saw you he knew he needed to get in your pants.

"Eh, give it a go," Jonathan told himself forcibly and his finger jerked onto your entrance, worming in needily and making you squeak in surprise. He shushed you, zipping his lips with his free hand, giving you a clear message that it wasn't wise to make unusual noises. Even though it wasn't like there was cameras in the rooms, one couldn't be too careful. If Dr. Figure found out his newest unstable patient, the same one that pledged not to kill himself before New Year's Eve, was somewhat taking advantage of a virgin he just met in her own room, the doc would be most displeased.

Nevertheless, whimpers escaped from your throat as he pressed further to your clit and moved another finger to join the first, uncomfortably stretching into your walls. Despite the stinging pain, you felt an decent amount of wetness pooling from your vagina, almost like peeing, and clenched reflexively, hitting his knuckles.

"Oh, I'm thinking it's ready," he whispered impatiently, wriggling his digits away with a squelch and wiping your light drizzle of cum on his cock.

Before you could react, he adjusted position and slid on top of you, pressing his body down onto your bare one and rubbing his full cock in-between your thighs.

You gasped when he began to shove in rather roughly, squirming into your tight unbroken hole and you looked up at his face, watching his hair askew slightly and you noticed a scar above his eyebrow you hadn't noticed before. You wrapped your arms around his neck, afraid to get pinned underneath him, and tried to buck and roll with the motion, but it was getting painful.

"Hurts," you whimpered into his ear as he thrusted further.

"Not gonna hurt in a minute, baby," he whispered, too in heat to stop and consider much else and he clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle any more alarming noises.

"C-Can't go-go all the way in," he panted, his skin slapping yours and rocking the whole small bed.

Sure enough, the pain became more bearable though the more he worked you and pleasure eventually overturned it altogether, the bursting bloom of an orgasm that was very likely the best feeling that had ever happened to you. You sank your mouth on his shoulder to stifle a cry, careful to not bite too deeply, and then mewled into his neck, panting heavily along with him and digging your fingers into his brown scrubby sideburns and floppy hair.

"Mm, fuc-fucking good, ya likin' it, eh?" Jonathan choked out in a whisper and you couldn't respond, too taken by this incredible euphoria and the way his cock flexed inside close at your cervix. You weren't sure how long he could stay in without it becoming too uncomfortable, but he lifted up slightly, grunting softly at his own arousal and effort.

He pulled out just in time, finishing outside by squirting hot ropes of milky cum all over your vagina, stomach, and legs. The bedsheets took a few splatters as well and he heaved in relief as you laid there, utterly stunned at his sexual performance. You had squirted a little bit too and it had intermixed with his juices that you couldn't tell which was from whom. It was so intimate and gross and a big part of you absolutely loved it, having never been in such a situation before... It was exciting and playful.

He swiped two fingers through the fluids and spread it on your thighs further, encouraging you to feel it as well and you giggled at him taking your own fingers and guiding them up to his face, dotting his chin with cum.

Jonathan then sat back on his haunches and admired you, catching his breath and listening to the steady patter of rain. You rolled over onto your side and your eyes widened at a couple spots of blood on the sheets and he looked down in causal observance.

"Ah, that'd be normal, don't worry," he assured with a chuckle.

"Though, uh, maybe we'd better try to hide it case they come collect the sheets tomorrow," he realized on second thought.

"I say I been bleeding, on my cycle," you offered as an explanation.

"Yeah, that'd be good cover," he agreed and climbed off, picking up his clothing and shimmying back into the pajamas and sweater.

"Look, I'll get us some towels or somethin' from the bathroom," he said, walking quietly to the door and opening it with a peering glance out, but the coast was clear. Most patients should be in their rooms by now anyhow.

You relaxed in a post-orgasmic trance while he was gone, listening to the dripping weather outside and wondering how you'd be able to be normal around him tomorrow.

The door squeaked open softly a couple minutes later and Jonathan came back inside with a bundle of torn sheets of toilet paper clutched in his hand.

"Couldn't get towels, so I took some shit paper that'll have ta do instead," he announced with dry amusement and he used it to wipe you clean of the wet mess and you thanked him quietly, grateful to be dry again for it had become rather cold and tingly on your skin. You automatically flinched a fraction when he wiped at your folds, as you were raw and sore, but he was fairly gentle. When he finished, Jonathan moved in very close as if for a kiss, but only whispered near to your ear, tickling your earlobe with his warm breath.

"Don't tell anyone about what we did... just a little secret, m'kay? Though I guess you wouldn't be blabbin' to anyone else anyway," he chuckled darkly, but it wasn't mean.

"Maybe we can see each other again?" he proposed as he balled up the soiled toilet paper and retreated back towards the door.

"Okay, Jonathan," you whispered in reply and he flushed at the sound of his name on your lips.

"I think you'll be my new therapy, better than anything that wanker of a Freud psychiatrist can offer." He paused, shuffling his feet and then glanced up daringly, determination in his blue orbs.

"We'll find a way out soon, a safe way out, me and you and Rachel and Toby... and I'll show you how to have a good time at the pub, eh? Like the sound of that?"

You only smiled as he turned to exit, but then abruptly paused and bit his lip as he looked back at you with a yearning, like what the two of you had just done still wasn't enough.

"Abair do phaidreacha agus codhladh sámh," he spoke in Gaelic and you translated back softly with a meaningful smile.

"Say your prayers and sleep well."

With a dip of his head and smug, yet almost childlike smile, Jonathan ducked out the door and was gone for the night.

[honeygrahambitch]

"No witnesses then?" Will asked as he entered Jack's office with Hannibal closely behind him.

Jack looked defeated. The whiskey bottle on his desk was the proof. He was probably waiting to call it a day and drown his frustration into a glass of whiskey.

"There is a witness. We brought him in but by the time we will interrogate him, our serial killer will have committed three other crimes."

"May I ask why we are not interrogating him now?" Hannibal asked.

"We need a translator. He doesn't speak English. Took the Bureau a few hours only to find one and he can make it here in a few days."

"What does he speak then? There's a high chance Hannibal speaks it." Will commented.

"I don't speak every language on earth, darling."

"I don't speak Lithuanian."

"Lithuanian?" Jack inquired.

"Aren't you Lithuanian, doctor?" Will asked.

"I am but I haven't spoken it in years. I doubt I can be of any help."

"So be it, then."

"Doctor." Jack started. Will and Hannibal recognized Jack's persuasive voice and Will immediately regretted opening his mouth. There was no way out now. "It would be of great help if we got the physical features of our killer. I am only asking you to try. It's the only way I will be able to sleep at night."

Hannibal looked at Will, then at Jack.

-

Jack and Will watched Hannibal from behind the glass of the interrogation room.

Hannibal spoke fluently with only few hesitations. There was something else that Will couldn't point towards. He felt bad about making Hannibal help with the case. When he had said he couldn't speak Lithuanian, Will knew he wasn't being modest about his skills. He had said that just because he hadn't wanted to speak Lithuanian.

Will detected some sort of awkwardness from Hannibal in the first few minutes but he masked it well. The discussion went smoothly.

Jack was nodding pleased.

"And he was saying he can't do it." Jack commented, paying so much attention to what was happening in front of them that one could think he was understanding every word. "We might catch this one by tonight, Will."

"Hopefully."

And they did. A bit later than what Jack had expected but Hannibal's report had been of great use.

-

"You caught him." Will said as the doctor was pouring him a glass of wine.

"You and Jack did."

"We wouldn't have without your help. It made a difference."

Hannibal said nothing, which was unusual and which reminded Will of his earlier eerie feeling.

"I'm sorry about making you do it. I figured you weren't comfortable."

"You didn't make me do anything. You know how persuasive Jack can get."

"How was it?" He wasn't sure wether Hannibal would want to talk about it.

"Quite an experience, I'd say. Words I have not pronounced in years. I might have made a lot of mistakes. Good thing you and Jack couldn't tell."

"It was more than a skill issue. Words have their way of taking you to certain places. And his accent was extremely authentic."

Will smiled softly. "I am sure your Lithuanian skills are better than mine."

Hannibal brought his glass of wine to his lips and smelled it thoughtfully.

"It took you down the halls of your memory palace."

"And it opened some locked doors."

"Did you manage to close them back already?"

"Not yet. I might linger in there for a while."

Will grabbed his fork and played with the sushi roll that was resting on his plate.

"It's something he said before leaving the interrogation room. He asked me why I can speak Lithuanian. I told him that I am, in fact, Lithuanian. He was very surprised by that. He said I didn't sound Lithuanian at all." Hannibal explained and took a sip from his glass.

"You don't have to keep to yourself." He said, sensing the amount of thoughts running through Hannibal's mind. "What else bothers you?"

"How did that make you feel?" Will asked genuinely curious and was relieved to see Hannibal cracking a smile. He knew Will hated that question.

"For a second it made me question what I am. The place you are born in doesn't define that. Nor does your family, be it dead or alive."

"Then nature and nurture have no power on the individual?"

"I wouldn't choose either. I would have said that they both have a role in defining who we are."

"Implying that you no longer believe that?"

"I kept reflecting on this subject while I was cooking. I didn't come to a satisfying answer. Then you knocked."

"And?"

"And here I was going to say something inappropriate. I can't now that you made this confession."

"And I found all the answers I needed. I see myself in you. And that is more than what Lithuania will ever mean to me. And more than what nature and nurture can explain."

"What was it?"

"Today I learnt that listening to you speaking Lithuanian does certain things to me."

Hannibal put down his fork and knife, his lips slightly parted. He didn't try to hide his surprise.

"Well." He said thoughtfully. "I had made up my mind I would never use it again after today. But this changes everything."