#I would never hate you dr (name) you took me seriously & gave me a new lease on life!!!!

[reinemichele]

For the record, re: my post about my migraine, I meant to talk about this the Last time I had a migraine, but it was one of those apocalyptic ones where I couldn't look at any screens even on the lowest brightness, & even after 5+ hours of lying down in the dark I didn't feel up to opening my laptop or sitting at my desk to type.

I don't want this to become too long, I can go into more detail later, but over time I noticed that my migraines would progressively get worse over the course of each month. 3 days before my period started, they were, like I said, apocalyptic. Nothing would help, any light or sound or smell was like stabbing pain, I'd be vomiting, etc. etc. I say 3 days because it was a clear pattern: I'd be in so much pain I'd be wondering why god hated me or why I was cursed, and then 3 days of hell later, my period would start, and the head pain was over.

So, I tried a lot of birth controls, when I was old enough to. Some of them helped (laundry list of symptoms) but made my migraines worse, some of them helped my migraines but made (laundry list of symptoms) worse. That also contributed to me thinking that my migraines were being contributed to by my hormones cycling.

So . Fast forward to 2021 . My gynecologist just agreed to giving me a hysterectomy . This gynecologist is the first one I'd ever seen who took me seriously, remembered my issues, and actively worked with me to find a solution to those issues. He knew about my migraines, he knew that I hypothesized that my hormones were influencing my migraines.

To be clear . I knew the answer to this was gonna be no . I just had to shoot my shot, you know? So I hedged my bets further and asked if he'd remove my ovaries, too. (I explained why, obviously, I didn't just say that only).

He looked horrified. He honestly looked like I had just asked him to shoot someone, or something. He told me he absolutely could not do that; as a doctor, the only way he could justify removing my ovaries was if I had ovarian cancer or something life or death like that. But even if he could justify it medically, he really would not want to do it. He talked about the importance of hormones, how I'd have to be on synthetic hormones for the rest of my life, how it would impact my bone density, how it would impact my mental health in unforeseeable ways, and it would be completely irreversible.

I wanted to push it further, but... I didn't want him to change his mind about giving me a hysterectomy, or for him to insist on me getting a psych eval before the hysterectomy. (Something I'd have to lie my way through, lmao)

Now, for the most part, my hysterectomy did actually improve my migraines. It went down to 1 migraine per month, which is already a huge improvement and something my 12 yr old self would've never believed to be physically possible. I'm seeing a neurologist now, and we've got it down to 1 every 1-3 months. But I do still sometimes have those world-ending migraines, and then a day or so later I'll burst into tears over something minor, and I'll think: ah. No more uterus, but I'm PMSing.

[betyloca]

headcanons of rorschach (walter kovacks) taking care of a teenager

• He had a sister that his mother had left in an orphanage, so he never had contact with her again.

• some workers came to her house giving them the news that she sadly died

• What surprised him was not that but that he had full custody of his daughter.

• This man has no idea how to raise a child or even a teenager.

• When he met you he took Daniel, he trusted him to accompany him.

• When they came to pick you up, you were sitting while you were waiting for them with your bag.

• He didn't want to do what Daniel did to you

Daniel: Hello, I'm Daniel.

y/n: I'm not interested

Daniel: It's okay, I'm just coming to...

Y/N: What do you want? I don't have any money.

Daniel: calm down, I just wanted to tell you that we are coming for you.

y/n: ohh okay* grabbing your bag*

*passes next to rorschach*

y/n: what do you see me?

• He saw your attitude surprised, he thought you would be like other girls your age.

• When he took you to his house he didn't have a room for you, you didn't complain, you just fell asleep on a couch.

•I don't plan on you staying long. At least I wanted to see if you had a father I could leave you with.

• what your father investigated, which turned out to be an alcoholic

• I wasn't going to leave you with a guy like him

• He is very distant around you but you can't blame him, it's like that with all women because of his mother's abuse.

• Don't blame him for not showing affection, he just doesn't know how to do it.

• He makes sure you eat well, he doesn't eat almost anything so he doesn't want you to go hungry.

• teaches you to defend yourself, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to you

• Hates the idea that he's going soft on you.

• watches you when you are on the street late at night in its rorschach form

• He doesn't like you to call him dad, he prefers you to call him Walter

• If he tells you his name is Walter, it means that he completely trusts you.

• When he can't take care of you, he leaves you with Daniel while he goes to watch the city.

• he is surprised at how quickly you discover that he is rorschach

Rorschach: How did you find out it was me?

y/n: are you seriously asking? You are the only one with a hook gun kept in the closet and not to mention your mask.

rorschach: you impress me child

• he likes you to understand that his mask is his face

• He won't admit it but he likes it when you fall asleep on his lap.

•At first it was awkward but I noticed that you didn't do it with just anyone, that means you trust him.

• he fears that some of his enemies will harm you which makes him paranoid when you leave without warning

Rorschach: Where were you?

y/n: on the street

Rorschach: Why didn't you warn?

y/n: sorry okay

Rorschach: You don't know how dangerous that is, I know very well.

y/n: I know if someone tries to do something to me I can defend myself

• would kill anyone who tries to harass you

• little smiles escape when you try to make him laugh

• stays still when you hug him out of nowhere

y/n: can I go please, I promise to be back at 8

Rorschach: It's okay if you delay, I'll go look for you.

y/n: thank you* while hugging him* ohh I'm sorry

Rorschach: okay, go now

y/n: okay

• his love language is to squeeze your arm three times

• It's strange but as I said before he doesn't know how to show affection.

• He doesn't want you to get involved when he is in trouble.

• When you were in prison you were afraid that someone would break into your house and that you would get hurt for not being with you.

• After leaving he decided to take you with him to look for Ozymandias, he didn't want to leave you alone.

• you obviously stayed on the boat

• The last thing that crossed his mind before dying for Dr. Manhattan was you.

• When he died he left you his diary and that Daniel would take care of you.

• You gave his diary to the newspapers so the truth would be known and then you kept his mask.

[buckysfaveplum]

call me psycho

summary: y/n is tired of everyone calling bucky crazy

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 1.4k

warning: swearing, mentions of bucky’s trauma

a/n: okay so the whole time i was watching TFATWS i lowkey hated the amount of times characters would call bucky crazy, or psychotic, etc. even as a joke. i didn’t like it and it felt somewhat victim blamey so here’s this fic as my outlet. idk i like the jokes like “cyborg” and shit but the ones i included in here i thought were too far

masterlist

“So, who would like to start?” Dr. Raynor asked as she slammed her notebook open on the table. The tension in the room was palpable. Sam and Bucky were seated at the table across from Raynor, with you standing behind Bucky. She’d said the session was for the two of them to work out their differences, but you were fine to join if you thought it would help Bucky open up. She didn’t know him well enough if she thought he was about to spill all his inner turmoil to Sam in an hour simply because you had a hand on his shoulder.

“All right, look, Dr. Raynor?” Sam started, breaking the silence. You turned to listen to him attentively, hoping he’d try to take the session seriously. You stood with your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, your left hand rubbing gently into the line where flesh met metal, trying to help him stay calm. “I get it, why you want me to talk to Freaky Magoo over here. But I’m 100% fine.”

Sam’s words took you back. He’d always made teasing nicknames for Bucky, he did it for everyone he knew. He’d even said a few earlier. You’d never heard him say something like that. A name playing on his psyche. It caused your stomach to turn. You knew Bucky was unsure of his mental state, always afraid he’d relapse back into him. It took you so long to help convince him just a bit that he was not broken, that he wasn’t crazy for the torture he endured. To hear Sam joking about it now, you were pissed. 

The conversation carried on, you pocketing your anger for a later day. That wasn’t the time to say something, especially when the two men were butting heads already. Tensions were high between the two, they didn’t need you to make it worse. You’d forget it, it was probably just a one-time thing, right?

-

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call. But after the blip and the chaos, I-” Sam started, grabbing a shirt from the wardrobe across the room.

“Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right?” Sharon asked, cutting him off. 

The night was somewhat of a bust. Though you’d gathered the intel you needed, it came at a cost. One that almost cost everyone their lives, and for Bucky to return to a dark place in the back of his mind. He’d been quiet since you got in Sharon’s car. The only sign he was still in there was his firm grip on your thigh in the back seat. You’d managed to work your hand around his stiff shoulders, pulling him as close as he’d allow. By the time you’d arrived at Sharon’s, you’d finally gotten him to open up. Though it was only short sentences as you helped him out of the gear and into new clothes, it was something. He was coming back to you and that was all that mattered. 

“The way you gave up that shield, deep down you must know. It’s all hypocrisy,” Sharon continued. You listened with a sharp ear as you sat beside Bucky on the couch, watching him wring his hands in his lap while one of yours carded through the back of his hair. 

“He knows, and not so deep down,” Zemo chimed in. God, you fucking hated him.

“By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon asked. You felt Bucky tense in your grasp before he spoke up.

“Don’t get me started,” he said, his head turning away to look at you. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice. You gave him a soft smile, to which he leaned further into your touch.

“Oh please!” Sharon scoffed, making her way over to you. “You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit!” You rolled your eyes at her remark. She had no right to talk about his history with Steve, the shield, or Captain America. Not with everything he’d been through

“Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America- Cap’s best friend!” she said, taking a seat beside you on the couch. 

Your head turned to her so fast, it was a shock you hadn’t gotten whiplash. Her words rang in your head, banging inside against your skull. She sat there smug with a smile as if what she’d said held no weight to her at all; it didn’t. You were fuming.

Turning to Bucky in shock, you could see he knew what you were thinking in your eyes. He saw the rage, frustration, and bewilderment. He understood your feelings, he was hurt too. He’d mastered the art of hiding his feelings so deep down, others seemed to think he didn’t have any. But not you, never you. He knew you could tell he was bothered by her words. And he knew you were going to say something.

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked, whipping your head back. Sharon cocked a smile your way, stunned by the anger on your face. Before you could reem into her, a firm squeeze on your thigh brought you out of it. Bucky’s hand gently moved, rubbing across your knee. Looking over, you watched as he swallowed hard, clearly uncomfortable. You bit your tongue.

-

Good to your word, you kept quiet as Sam bargained with Sharon. You sat and contained yourself, playing with Bucky’s hands trying to calm back down. He smiled as he watched you trace the gold detailing along his palm, something you often did when your emotions overwhelmed you. You’d almost forgotten your anger from earlier as you listened in on the conversation at hand.

“Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you’re right,” Sam said, getting up from his seat and making his way to Sharon. “What happened to you. But I’m willing to try if you are.”

The room fell silent for a moment as Sharon contemplated Sam’s offer. You leaned back into Bucky’s shoulder as you welcomed the silence. For one moment, everything was calm.

“They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met,” Sam said, gesturing back at Bucky.

That was the last straw. Bucky cringed as you ripped yourself from his arms, leaping from the couch.

“Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you all?” you said, staring stunned at Sam. The room was quiet as Sharon, Sam, and Zemo stared back at you.

“Y/N, what-” Sam said, but you cut him off.

“Why the hell are you all talking about him like that?” you asked, your anger overflowing through your words. “Why are you calling him a psychopath and acting like he’s crazy?”

You were practically shaking as you continued.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about! You can’t even imagine what he’s gone through, what he’s had to endure! And you have the fucking nerve to joke about it?” You shouted, any calm you may have had gone.

Sam was speechless, staring back at you unsure of what to say. Sharon simply stared down at her shoes, waiting for the interaction to end. Before you could say anything else, you felt the familiar cool of vibranium on your waist. Bucky’s low voice whispered in your ear ‘come on’, before leading you out of the room. You stumbled before him as he led you to the door, but not without throwing a quick ‘how dare you!’ back over your shoulder for good measure.

Once in the hallway, you prepared yourself for the lecture you could feel coming. You knew he didn’t want you to cause a scene, yet you did anyway. Maybe you were wrong? No, you needed to say something. Needed to stop the hurtful words being thrown at the man you loved like they were just cheap jokes. You’d say that to him, that you’d defend him over and over again until your voice wore out.

You prepared yourself for an argument when you suddenly felt Bucky pulling you close to his chest. His arms wrapped tight around you, grasping at your shoulders as if you were his lifeline. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, shaking as he held you. Desperate to be close to his girl.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, his voice cracking slightly. A deep sigh slipped from your chest as you held him close, finally calming down. 

“I won’t let anyone talk about you like that, sweet boy,” you said, running a hand through his hair. 

“I love you, doll.”

“I love you, too.”

---

taglist:

@britos11​ @baby-banana​

[reidgraygubler]

carolina (spencer reid/reader

Title: Carolina

Request: no, but it was written for @spencerreidbingo​

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut/angst, with a tiny bit of fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (praise kink, mild-innocence kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (male & female), penetrative sex, unprotected sex/cream pie, grinding/petting, hairpulling, breathplay, multiple orgasms, possessive kink, orgasm denial), partying, drinking, swearing, large age gap (between two consenting adults), professor/student, post prison!reid, quick mentions of drinks being drugged (but not actually happening) (if I missed anything, please let me know)

Word Count: 9,064

Summary: Spencer thinks his peer is innocent. But little does he not, she’s not as innocent as he thinks.

A/N: it’s based on carolina by harry styles, bc im a sucker for a good harry song. This was written for @spencerreidbingo​ (i’ll have a separate post with more about that). this takes up the breathplay square on my card (pictured below). This is also the first time im writing a blowjob scene, so im really sorry if it’s not good. i also didn’t have a beta for this, so im kinda blindly posting this. and, lastly, this is a lot longer than i intended. i didn’t mean for it to get this long… it’s just a bunch of words my brain wouldn’t stop saying until i wrote it... i seriously hope you all enjoy this. thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~

{***}{***}{***}

I kept my eyes low as I stepped into the lecture hall 5 minutes before anyone else. The professor was writing something on the chalkboard, so his back was facing the room. 

“Uh, hello,” I spoked, stepping closer to his desk. He jumped slightly and dropped his chalk at the sound of my voice. I would have expected him to know students would be showing up earlier, considering it was the start of a new semester. And, I honestly would have assumed he was told a new student was coming. That’s not my job. 

“Oh, sorry,” he turned around to face me. I smiled softly, watching

as he bent down to pick up the chalk. I cocked my head to the side, watching his backside as he stood back up. He pushed his hair away from his face. “You must be the new transfer,” he asked, resting the chalk on his desk, beside a pile of pens.

“Yep. That’s me…” I smiled, looking up at his face, keeping myself from further checking him out. I quickly offered my hand and gave him my name. “I know I’m early. I figured I’d get the syllabus from you now instead of after class,” I nodded as I adjusted my grip on my bag. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes lingering on my face and then down my body, and that moment felt like an eternity. I shouldn’t be mad or frustrated with him. I basically did the same thing to him moments ago.

 I cleared my throat to get his attention once again. “The, uh… The syllabus?” I asked as my smile faltered slightly. He looked at me before looking at the pile of papers on his desk before quickly moving.

“Right, right, sorry,” he muttered as he began shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk. “Um, here you are,” he looked back up at me as he handed me a small packet. I looked at it for a moment before looking back up at the teacher.

“Perfect, thank you,” I spoke, my words kind of lingering because he never actually gave me his name. 

“Right, sorry, Spencer. Spencer Reid. I won’t be a drill sergeant about the whole Mr., Dr., Professor. You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled as he placed his hands on the back of his chair. I held back my laughter and the wildly inappropriate joke that I wanted to make.

“Well, Professor Reid,” I smiled as I looked down at my watch, “I better go find a seat before your class starts. I can’t wait to be in your class,” I looked up at him before turning to find a spot. When I sat down, Spencer looked at me with a smile, before going back to writing on the chalkboard. 

I quickly and quietly pulled out my books and pens as the other people in the class filed in and took their seats. Spencer quickly finished writing on the board before turning around to greet the class. And, even as he spoke to the class, and looked around at each of the other students, his eyes always landed on me, lingering for a moment before going elsewhere.

{***}{***}{***}

Five months. Five months into being in Spencer Reid’s class, and I have been suffering. I’m not a new student anymore. But the only friendship I’ve made is with my fucking professor, and there’s a certain level of tension between us. That tension was probably thanks to him staring at me during lectures, and me teasing him while he taught. It wasn’t too bothersome, but I definitely wanted something to happen. Unfortunately for me, I don’t think anything will happen. 

So, can someone please tell me why I invited Spencer over to help me study for a test? It’s a stupid question too, that I already figured out the answer to… I even finished studying for the day, and I’m going to a stupid party. Maybe I could get him to go with… And maybe, just maybe, something could happen.

I nearly jumped when there was a knock on the door. It’s not that I forgot he was coming over. It’s that I was so wrapped up in doing my makeup and forgot what time it was. My mascara almost smudged when I jumped back. Thank God it didn’t smudge too terribly. 

I grabbed my shirt off the counter and threw it on (not bothering to zip it), before running to the front door. I smoothed out my skirt before pulling the door open. And, there stood Spencer. 

“Hope I’m not too late,” he looked down at me and smiled. Although, his smile didn’t stay for too long when he saw what I was wearing. He wasn’t disappointed though, no. He was… He clearly liked what he saw, I’ll just put it that way.

“Oh! Thanks for coming over, but I actually figured it out. I should’ve called you,” I looked up at Spencer as he stepped into my apartment. I struggled to zip the back of my blouse as I walked towards my room. I looked back over my shoulder and noted that Spencer was, indeed, still following me. “Can you zip me up,” I stopped in my tracks before giving up on zipping my blouse. It was a black crop top that paired well with the pale pink tennis skirt. 

“Where… Where exactly are you going tonight? It’s a, uh, it’s a school night,” he asked as he lifted his hands. The cool metal of the zipper pressed against my back, causing a shiver to go through my spine.

“Uh, there’s this party,” I answered, stepping away from him and towards the bathroom, “Thought I’d go,” I looked at him in the mirror. Spencer looked around the bathroom, at the messy mess I had made on my counter. Different pallets of makeup and tools were strewn about, a varying amount of hair care products tossed here and there. It honestly looked like a bathroom of a pageant queen, and not a 20-something-year-old. In my defense, I had to dress to impress someone here in this stupid university. 

“Is that, uh… Is that smart?” Spencer asked, leaning against the door jamb. I looked up at him as I put on some luxurious red lipstick. I smiled as I looked at him.

“I think it is,” I laughed as I picked up something else and turned to look at him, “You wanna come? I wasn’t invited,” I smiled wickedly as I looked at him. His face paled two shades as he looked at me. “Oh, c’mon, Professor, no one will know us there, and I can assure you, no one will even see us,” I looked up at him as I readjusted his tie. He looked down at me before swallowing roughly. 

“I don-”

“I do need a designated driver,” I spoke before cutting him off. I walked past him and towards my room. Part of me wondered what he was thinking as I so rudely rushed past him, or cut him off, or whatever I was doing. I wished I could hear his thoughts. I wondered if they consisted of “The mouth on that girl,” or, “I should punish her for the way she’s acting,” or, my personal favorite, “I should put that mouth to good use,” 

“How old are you again?” Spencer asked once I sat down on my bed. I looked up at him as I slipped my shoes on.

“22,” I smiled and stood up, “Why, is that important?” I smiled as I grabbed my coat and purse.

“Couldn’t remember,” he lied. We both knew he was lying. He even knew that too. Freaking walking computer is what he is. There's no way he conveniently forgot how old I was. “Are you going to be out late?”

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad or anything?” I laughed, leading him back to the front door of the house. “I don’t plan on being out too late. I know there’s class tomorrow,” I shrugged as I walked towards his car. 

We both stayed silent as he drove with the directions I was quietly giving him. I was pleasantly happy that we were both quiet, but what I hated was the sudden awkward sexual tension that was between us. If he didn’t have this… domineering personality over me there probably wouldn’t be this tension between us.

“Are you going to come with me?” I looked up at him as I unbuckled. He glanced over at me with slight disappointment in his eye. I felt a little bad, but I really wanted to go to this party, I wasn’t going to let my professor’s disappointment stop me. “Please,” I whispered. He sighed before unbuckling himself. I had to force myself to not verbally giggle with excitement before slipping out of the car. Spencer looked down at me as I twisted my hips to swish my skirt. I smiled as I entertained myself. I'm sure if I wasn't watching my skirt, I would have been staring at him, giving myself away. 

“Steps,” Spencer muttered as we got closer to the porch. I looked up at him before looking towards the small staircase. I looked up at Spencer with a smile. He glanced back down at me, a worried crease in his brow. I looked down at my skirt and smoothed it out. I looked at the door as we stood close to it, I contemplated knocking.

  “So, you weren’t invited to this party?” Spencer asked, looking down at me. His voice stopped me from knocking. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled back up at him. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer from me. My smile grew playful as I looked back at the door, raising my fist to knock on it. “No answer?” he asked, still waiting for my answer.

“Oh, please, Professor Reid, I can get into the hottest parties in LA without an invitation,” I smiled at him. That was a little bit of an over-exaggeration. Most college parties I could get into. But not LA parties. Someday though… 

The door swung open, and we were instantly met with loud music blaring through a speaker somewhere in the house. People’s voices and chatter carried all throughout the house, coming through the various rooms and clusters around. “Are you coming in to babysit me? Or, are you going to go back to your car to read the science of the mathematical phenomenon,” I looked up at him, offering my hand to him. I wasn’t exactly sure if that was a real book or not, but I wouldn’t put it past Spencer to read. 

“I’m not babysitting you,” he corrected as he looked down at me with a disappointed look in his eye. I smiled and rolled my eyes. 

“Are you going to come in and watch me drink and party and have fun, Professor… Or, are you going to go back to your car and read your silly little book,” I looked down at my hand, silently telling him to take my hand and come in with me. 

“I, uh, I don’t think it’s exactly in the rules for a professor to party, let alone drink, with their students,” Spencer spoke before looking down at my hand. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him.

“Fine then… Suit yourself,” I turned around and basically skipped into the house, leaving the door open for him. I made my way towards the loud kitchen and grabbed for a cup and bottle of whatever booze was nearby. I blindly grabbed for a bottle of Grey Goose and dumped it into the cup, no mixer, no chaser. 

“First off,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I looked up at him and took a long sip of vodka. “You shouldn’t be taking drinks from people at a party,” he spoke, taking the cup from me. I looked up at him, then the bottle and a new cup. I was only a little annoyed that he took my drink. 

“I… I’m young. I’m not dumb,” I grabbed a new cup and poured more vodka. I looked up at him and offered him a sip. “I know not to drink something given to me by someone I don’t know.” I scoffed before taking another long sip. I cringed a bit at how strong it was.

“Even then someone could slip something into a drink! Even if you did know them!” Spencer exclaimed, causing the surrounding people to turn and look at us. I dropped my shoulders as I looked up at him. 

“If you look around, Spencer, you’re the only person that I know. So unless you’re the one slipping something into my drink… And, as an FBI agent… I don’t think you would,” I cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You have more to say,” I added before taking a sip of my drink.

"And, secondly, you're not as innocent as I had originally thought you were," he watched as I brought the cup of straight vodka to my lips. He looked rather unamused with my talent for drinking straight vodka.

"You thought I was innocent?" I asked, nearly sputtering the liquid with my laughter. "Please! I've never been innocent in my entire life!" I shouted over the music. He raised an eyebrow at my statement, and suddenly I had the greatest idea in the world. "But maybe, just for you, I'll be a good girl," I smiled before drinking the rest of my drink in one go. Spencer looked down at me, his lips pressed into a fine as he stared down at me. Ohh, that definitely awoken something in him. I bit back my smile with my offer. Innocent… He thinks I’m innocent. Ha! I honestly don’t remember the last time I was innocent. And, honestly, just for him… I’d be an innocent, good, little girl for Spencer Reid any day, every day even. “I can be your good, innocent little girl,” I smiled at him and cocked my head.

"I don't… I don't think that'd be… appropriate," he spoke, his words very quiet. We both knew that even though it was inappropriate, we both wanted it. We both knew what we wanted to. 

I glanced at him before pouring more drink for myself. "You should learn to pace yourself," he stated and changed the subject. He nervously looked at the bottle of vodka and then around the room at all the other people drinking. Or, he was just looking for a drink that wasn’t booze. Did he actually want to keep me safe, or was I just overreading him?     

"It's a college party, Professor! I'm not going to pace myself!" I shouted just to get his attention back to me. His head shot back down to me. The level of concern on his face only made me feel a little bad, mostly because he was concerned for me. But, he should know… This is a college party.  “Do you want some?” I asked, offering my drink to him again. I held it up to him, close to his lips. His face twisted up as soon as the scent of pure vodka hit his nose.

“No, no thanks,” he held up at hand to block the cup from his face. I pouted before bringing it to my lips. “Do you usually come to parties,” he asked, his eyes darting around the room. Part of me wondered if he wanted to continue that question with “Like this?” But,  I was too busy keeping my eyes on his face, rather than looking around the room like he was. Although, I’m sure he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings. I’ve never been too worried about it, I probably should… But hey, you only live once. Going to college parties with your 38-year-old professor, and drinking straight vodka, and not really caring about your surroundings proves my point of YOLO.

“If I don’t have class or anything to study for… Yep,” I looked up at him with a sneaky smile. The joke with that was his particular class had a test coming up soon, and I should be studying for it. He knew that too because he just announced the test this morning. Although, he did come to my home, to help me with said test. “But, I wouldn't show up to his class hungover. It’d disappoint him too much. And, he’d care too much about me to even focus on the rest of the class,” I spoke, answering the questions he was thinking. It’s not like I’ve shown up to classes hungover before. Granted, I’ve never shown up to his class drunk or hungover. Mostly because I didn’t want to disappoint him, and only him. Anyone and everyone else can go blow themselves.

“How do you know that?” Spencer asked, looking back at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled and stepped closer to him.  

“How do I know what?” I cocked my head to my shoulder. I already knew what he meant by his question, but… I think teasing him and messing with him is fun. And, he knew that too.

“How do you know that you’d disappoint him?” he looked down at me, pressing his chin to his chest to get a better look at me. His hands were away from me, even though I really wanted his hands anywhere on me. I looked over at my hand and the cup I held before bringing it to my lips. I took a long sip, trying to finish the contents in one go. I tossed the cup over my shoulder and looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“Because being hungover, with the slight possibility of still being drunk, would totally disappoint him… And I would hate to disappoint him.” I whispered and shook my head. Spencer looked down at me with something in his eyes, and I loved the way he looked at me. “I told you, Professor, I’d be a good girl for you,” I cocked my head to my shoulder and smiled, “And only for you,”

“You’re drunk,” he pointed out an obvious fake statement. So, I cackled and shook my head.

“I had one drink,” I scoffed and waved off my in the air, “Most definitely not enough to get me drunk,” I flattened his tie out before gripping it tightly, “Like I said, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” I smiled before dropping my hand from his tie, “So, why would I show up to your class… Hungover…? I know you’d care… And I know it’d disappoint you. That’s the last thing I want to do to you,”  

Spencer’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly. He quickly looked between me and the room, then back at me, then around the room. I faked a yawn before looking away from him.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay, Professor?” I smoothed out his jacket before turning and leaving him alone in the kitchen. I smiled as I skipped away from him, my skirt swishing with my movement. I secretly hoped he’d follow me. But, a quick glance over my shoulder told me he was still in the kitchen.

However, when I finished my business and left the bathroom, Spencer was leaning against the wall right beside the door. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Follow me,” he muttered, grasping my wrist and pulling me down the various halls and past multiple groups of people. I giggled the harder his grasp grew on me and the faster he moved. I’m happy people were too busy with themselves to notice a 30-something-year-old man was dragging a 20-something-year-old girl down the hall, to which I can assume was one of the only open bedrooms. Fuck… I hope it's a bedroom. 

He was a man on a mission. Not letting anyone get in his way. The smile that grew on my lips was pure excitement. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure we’re both getting what we wanted… I hope.

I let out an excited yelp when he shoved me into, exactly what I thought, an empty bedroom. I’m surprised he knew that there’d be an empty room. Most of them are occupied, with couples (or more) doing exactly what I hope we’re about to do. Which was fuck each other.

Spencer slammed the door shut, and quickly locked it before pushing me against it. I looked up at him and giggled like a fucking kid in a candy store. Again, I couldn’t help it. 

Spencer was quiet, which led me to be quiet. The air in between us quickly grew hot and tense and thick. I really wanted this to move faster, but I wanted him to be the one in charge. I was willing to let this be slow and let him be in charge. So, when he grabbed both my wrists and held them above my head, I smiled so hard my cheeks began to hurt.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer’s voice was low and deep as he moved close to me. There was little to no space between us. Which left little to the imagination, for me anyway. 

I looked up at him, with the biggest doe eyes I could muster, silently telling him that I wanted the most, in the entire world, was to be on my knees, with his hand tangled in my hair, and his cock down my throat, or to be fucked so hard that I won’t be able to sit properly for several days. But, I couldn’t be that blunt. You gotta play up to that moment before you get it. I’m sure in the end though, I’ll get both things.

I swallowed roughly, trying to think of what to say, because, like I said, I can’t just be blunt yet. So, when I opened my mouth and words just came out, I was pleasantly surprised with what was said. “You’re old enough to be my father, Professor,” I smiled at him as he pinned me against the door. He pressed his hips against mine to keep me against the surface. I could feel a large bulge against my inner thigh, causing me to shiver. “Does that mean I get to call you daddy,” I whispered as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He is the one who said I could call him whatever I wanted… And he did just ask me what I wanted, and I guess I wanted to call him ‘Daddy’. There was no guessing about him.

Okay, he wasn't exactly old enough to be my father. But he was a lot older than me. Most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with men 15 years older than them… and most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with their professor… I just wanted an excuse to call him 'Daddy'. And he knew that too. So, if we gave each other an excuse for that to happen, then that was all I needed.

I dropped my head to my shoulder to allow him to attack the space on my neck. He dragged his nose across my jawbone before stilling. His lips were just over my neck. As his breathing got heavier, it tickled across my skin. 

“That does have a nice ring to it,” Spencer hummed as he dropped my hands and stepped away from me. I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. I missed having his body pressed against mine, and he knew that. 

I looked at him as I brought my hands to his belt. "I thought you said this wasn't appropriate, Daddy," I whispered as I quickly undid the belt buckle, without looking. I almost couldn’t move fast enough to unbutton and zip his pants. If he wanted me to stop, he would have stopped me by now. “Can I?” I looked up at him, a plea in my eyes.

"You've changed my mind," he muttered, watching me with such close intent, “God, please keep going,” he spoke like if I did stop now he’d probably die. I looked up at him as I slipped my hand into the waistband of his boxers. He hissed as my fingers brushed against his cock. A small smile grew on my lips. 

“Didn’t take much convincing,” I smiled as my fingers wrapped around him. A small groan fell from his lips as I looked up at him. When I pulled my hand away from him not even a moment later, he looked down at me with an alarmed expression on his face. I quickly spat on my palm before sticking my hand down his pants. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” I whispered as I slowly stroked up and down his length. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening. 

“I’ve wanted this since you stepped foot in my classroom,” his voice was low and gravely as he spoke. My breathing picked up a little bit as I looked up at him. 

Okay… Maybe he did know how long I’ve wanted this. Because I also wanted this the second I stepped into his lecture hall. I wanted his cock in my hands and his hand around my throat. It only took-what, five months for this? I’ll make it worth the wait. 

“Does that feel good,” I whispered, carefully picking up speed and adding the slightest bit of pressure in my grip. Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed roughly and nodded. I smiled before pulling my hand away from him, again. I slowly lowered to my knees and kept my eyes on his face. 

Spencer looked down at him as he gently pushed his fingers through my hair. His fingers gripping hard on my roots before pulling hard. I smiled before very slowly pulling down his slacks and boxers in one go. I was only a little bit intimidated by his size, but the excitement I felt went straight to my core. 

I took a deep breath and swallowed roughly before looking up at him. My mouth fell open, and my tongue stuck out, silently telling him that it was okay. Although I don’t really know why I was telling him that it was okay, we both knew what we wanted, and it was only going to take me doing one thing.

I made eye contact with him as I ran my tongue on the side of his cock. Our eye contact didn’t last long, mostly because he let out a moan and dropped his head back. I smiled as I licked across his tip. A sweet and salty taste was on my tongue. 

My jaw fell slack as I carefully took his length into my mouth. I closed my lips around him before slowly bobbing my head, with my tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. I wrapped a hand around what wouldn’t fit into my mouth. And wrapped my free arm around his leg for support.

The sounds of his moans and grunts filled the mostly quiet room. Music, although muffled through the walls and door, could still be heard from outside of our own world behind the door and four walls.

“You were right,” he struggled to speak through groans, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought,” Spencer's hand had a rough hold in my hair as he held me against him. His cock was penetrating my throat, and breathing was beginning to get difficult. My eyes grew wet and tears grew in the corners of my eyes. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if my makeup started smudging and I looked like an adolescent raccoon. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” he struggled to let out a coo, before moving his hips closer to my face. 

Everything about this moment, his hand in my hair, the sounds he was making, the way he smelled, being here… Was intoxicating. I’d give anything to be in this moment again. And I’d give anything to get this moment sooner.

 My knees would hate me in the morning, I just know it. I could already sense the dreaded carpet burn before he even started. But, in all honesty, it’d be worth it. Walking into class tomorrow morning, with bruises and day-old wounds on my knees, just to see his expression.

As I began to pick up pace, the sounds Spencer was making started to become more urgent, easily telling me he was close. But, before he could finish, I pulled away from him, crashing into the wall to get away from his grasp. He looked down at me with a mild frustration on his face. I smiled before wiping my chin clean of spit. 

“I guess chivalry is dead. Whatever happened to ladies first?” I asked, my voice a rasp from how raw my throat was. I looked up at him, feeling a certain level of sass grow in my smile. Spencer quickly tucked himself back into his pants before grabbing my hand. 

“Come on, on your feet,” he muttered as he pulled me back up to a standing position. I nearly toppled over into him if he didn’t hold me upright. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Bed… Now?” I whispered, my tone showing how urgent I was. It’s not that I wanted this over with, it's that I wanted everything to happen to me all at once, and I wanted it to last for a long time. 

Spencer nodded before cupping my face in his hands. He was harsh when he pressed his lips to mine, like his life depended on it, if he did kiss me now the world would end. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started guiding me towards the bed. And when the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs, he pushed me back onto it. I quickly moved so my head was resting on the pillows. Spencer was quick to take his cardigan off and be over me. 

“You’re not going to fail me, are you,” I joked as he quickly started leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck. He lifted his head and looked down at me with confusion on his face. “If I’m a bad fuck,”

“If you ask that again, or bring up class while we’re doing this… Then yes,” he muttered as he looked at me. I laughed as I pushed my fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed as I pulled him down to kiss him, again. One of his hands landed on top of my breast, carefully kneading it, causing me to moan into his mouth. 

His hand slowly drifted away from my chest. I pressed my head into the pillow and looked up at him with a smirk. He carefully dragged his fingers up from my chest to the base of my neck, causing me to let out a shaky gasp. I wanted fingers and a hand around my neck, carefully cutting off my airway just right. Suddenly, I never wanted something so badly in my life. Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at me like he knew what I was about to say. 

“Do it… I fucking dare you,” I muttered, placing both my hands around his wrist. My nose twitched as I stared at him. “I said fucking do it,” I spat, pushing his hand down more onto my neck. My words slowly got cut off as the pressure in his hand and fingers tightened around my neck. A moan struggled to escape me, but did eventually fall from my lips. He seemed pretty happy with that.

“Is that good,” his voice was a growl. I looked at him and moaned.

“Harder,” I begged, my voice growing raspier the more I spoke. He smirked before allowing his grip to tighten. His other hand was still sitting on top of my hips, and I could tell where he wanted to put it. I’d be a dirty, rotten liar if I didn’t want his hand up my skirt. In fact, I’d love it if he did more than just his hand. 

Spencer swallowed roughly before finally sneaking a hand up my skirt and resting it on my underwear. My grip around his wrist got tighter as he pushed past my underwear and past my folds. My eyes fluttered closed as another moan was strangled in my throat. 

“You’re so wet,” he purred as he slowly moved a finger around my clit. I looked up at him, as I struggled to swallow roughly. A dark smirk grew on his lips as he watched me struggle for a moment. “Does that feel good,” he asked, mildly mocking me from earlier. His movements picked up speed just a little bit, and my body reacted, well tried to react. 

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me. His pupils were so blown I could nearly see my reflection in them. “Another thing you were right about,” he whispered as he slipped a finger into my entrance, and curled it just right. My vision slowly blurred before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Another moan struggled to escape my throat as Spencer added a second finger. 

My body was on autopilot as I lifted my hand and hit his wrist a few times, telling him that I desperately needed to breathe. When I reopened my eyes, I looked up at him a moment before he removed his hand from my neck. Worry and concern flashed in his eyes as I breathed. Air burned like fire in my lungs as I took a deep breath. As I exhaled a loud moan followed behind, easily telling Spencer and I that I had reached my first orgasm of the night. I just hope there will be more... 

“You did such a good job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he looked down at me. With his free hand, he brushed the tears away from my cheeks. He carefully withdrew his hand from between my legs and held them up to his face. He looked at them for a moment before placing them in his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. I took a shaky breath and nodded. 

He very sloppily pressed his lips to mine, then on the corner of my lips, and down my jaw, and neck. With one quick movement, a loud rip filled the room, as he tore my shirt off my body. I looked up at him with shock in my eyes. To be fair, that shirt was flimsy, to begin with. I was more worried about leaving my chest so exposed as we left the party. 

“Oh, I’ll give you my sweater,” Spencer muttered before attacking my neck and then down to my collarbones, and over my breasts. I gasped as he wrapped his lips around a nipple.

“Mmm, Daddy,” I whimpered as I shifted under him. I brought my hands back up to his hair, tangling my fingers in the hairs on his neck. When he sensed that I was growing restless (even though he just started), he quickly left wet kisses down the rest of my body

“I like the way that sounds coming from your mouth,” he whispered once he was in between my legs. I looked down at him just as he looked up at me. “Good on your end for wearing such a short skirt,” he smiled before pressing his lips to my inner thigh. A shaky breath tumbled from my lips as I looked at him. “Makes for easier access,” he added before going higher up on my leg.

“You’re not going fast enough,” I whined as he just kept kissing, or licking, or rubbing my inner thighs. It was honestly getting annoying. I kind of felt bad for him. Considering I’ve already cum once, and I got him close but didn’t let him finish. 

“I’m not going fast enough?” Spencer looked up at me. I shot him a scowl as I shifted slightly on the bed. Spencer looked back down the apex of my legs before looping two fingers around the band of my underwear. As soon as I lifted my hips, he pulled my underwear off my body and chucked them to the ground beside the bed. “How’s this for fast enough,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before licking between my folds. A breath of air got caught in my lungs as my hands found their way to his hair, my fingers getting knotted up in his roots. 

“Mhm, Spencer,” I gasped, rolling my hips up at him. He hummed, sending vibrations straight to my core. My legs wrapped around him, my heels digging into his back as my own back arched. 

“Ohh, Daddy, please don’t stop,” I cried, pressing my head into the pillow beneath my head. My fingers pulled hard on his hair, pulling him closer to me. He hummed again as he pushed two fingers back into my entrance. My grip in his hair tightened, and I could feel my grip wanting to loosen. 

My breathing picked up as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. And all I could say was his name, and the suddenly loved nickname I had for him. He seemed to appreciate my reaction too, because he worked faster. Messy and wet sounds, mixed with my breathy moans and calls of his name filled the room, and my end was near. 

“Fuck,” I shouted as I finally came undone. I could sense if I didn’t pull him away, he’d keep going, and going till I couldn’t take it anymore. And, honestly, that sounds great, but I think that’s for next time. I wanted him in me now. “Spencer, Spencer,” I cried as I tried to pull his head away, but failed so hard.

“Nuh huh,” he hummed, looking up at me. I took a deep breath and pressed my head into the pillow beneath me and threw an arm over my face. “Please, Spencer,” I cried as I bucked my hips at him, “Fuck me, please, fuck me, Daddy,” I moaned. He was going faster than before and was clearly trying to work me to the end faster too. It was hard to breathe, and speak because my words would just get stuck in my throat.  

Although, when I did cum, again, for the third time tonight, Spencer did move away from my legs. He knelt between them, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. My body was shaking lightly as I tried to come down from my high.

“Please,” I whispered, lifting a hand up, trying to reach for his tie. He looked down at me with a smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. I could feel my voice becoming a little whiney. Spencer moved so he was hovering over me, his fingers gently brushing hair away from my face.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he whispered cupping my face in his hand. I looked up at his face, admiring his lips, and eyes, and nose, and the way his lips had a sheen from when he licked them clean and whatever was leftover from when he was eating me out. 

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” I begged, begged. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine for a moment. He sat up away from me to remove his sweater and shirt. My head was spinning from excitement, I didn’t even notice that he was totally undressed.

Spencer was back between my legs, looking down at me like I truly belonged right here. Or, like I was his to fuck with. Either way it was a good feeling. 

“Ready?” He asked, his voice so low that I could hardly hear it over the bass of the loud music. I rapidly nodded my head, worried my answer was the wrong one. But it wasn’t. I desperately wanted this. Needed. I needed this. 

Spencer hovered over me before putting an opened mouth kiss on my lips. I could hardly breathe as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit and entrance. I could feel a moan getting caught in the middle of my throat, my body not being about to handle anymore teasing. Until, he very slowly pushed into me.

“Oh, good girl,” he repeated. Those two words, constantly coming off his tongue. Making me feel good. The praise that I hadn’t heard in such a long time, that I longed for. Part of me wondered if he knew I wanted it. “Has someone not been taking care of you?” he asked, looking down at me. I stared at him, not trusting my own voice. My mind was too distracted with the way I felt, light and airy but at the same time full. So I shook my head.

“No, Daddy,” I whimpered and kept shaking my head. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled before moving his hips. It took him a moment to get a perfect rhythm. He lips attached to different spots on my neck, leaving hickies in his wake.

“Spencer,” I whispered as I moved my head closer to my shoulder to let him have more space.

“You feel so good,” he grunted as he moved his hips so he was deeper in me, “You feel so good, and you’re all mine,” he pressed his forehead to mine as he wrapped his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer up to him. My breathing got deep, my chest heaving with each breath I took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, closer to my face. 

“Oh, be quiet,” I whispered before putting my lips on his. He smiled before passing his tongue between my lips. A moan fell from my lips, which he seemed to enjoy… Considering it was probably just music to his ears. 

“I’ll only be quiet if you keep making those little noises,” he muttered against my lips. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled again as I knotted my fingers in the hair on the back of his head. 

“Faster,” I breathed out, keeping my eyes on him. Spencer laughed lightly as he picked up the speed. My hips bucked with his, meeting at the right points. “Please,” I whimpered as I threw my head back more into the pillow. He pulled his arm away from my back and brought his hand between our legs, where we met. 

“It’s okay, Little Girl,” Spencer whispered before pressing his lips to the side of my face. I let out a shaky breah and arched my body into his. I couldn’t believe how good I felt. I almost wasn’t sure if it was fair that my professor was better in bed than other men my age. He was more experienced, to be fair. “You can finish, it’s okay,” he kept his voice low. It almost sounded like he was giving me permission.

I nodded my head, breathing heavily through my nose. “Mmm, Spencer,” I moaned, loudy, as my walls fluttered around him and my release came. And a few moments later, Spencer thrusted deep into me with a grunt, filling me with his essence. His body collapsed on top of me whence he finished.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my fingers still tangled in his hair. My limbs were sore and shaking slightly from the rough movements. Spencer laughed lightly, agreeing with my statement. “We can’t sleep here,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the ceiling above us. I wished we could just sleep here, mostly because I was exhausted after everything we did.

“I know,” Spencer replied as he slowly moved off and away from me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re messy now,” he muttered as he basically tumbled off the bed. I quickly sat up, just to make sure he was okay. Although I was happy he was okay, I quickly regretted moving as fast as I did. 

“Your sweater,” I mumbled, reaching out towards where his sweater was lying. He looked down at it before picking it up to hand to me. He also grabbed a fistful of tissues and moved to between my legs, again. “Just give me your boxers,” I looked at him as he wiped the insides of my thighs clean. He looked back up at me, still cleaning my legs. 

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he spoke as he tossed the dirty tissues to the trash. He grabbed his slacks and boxers, tossing me his boxers. I slipped them on under my skirt, and then slipped his sweater on. 

“I’d hope so,” I whispered as I stood up. My body wobbled for a second, nearly falling over, before I caught my balance. Spencer looked back at me, looking at how fucked I looked. I mean, I probably looked about the same as him. 

“I’d given you a ride home either way,” he said as he redressed. I looked at him with confusion on my face. Either way? So even if we hadn’t had sex, he would have given me a ride. I asked him and he said yes. So I would hope he’d given me a ride, even if we didn’t fuck.

Once we were both ready to leave this stupid party, that I didn’t even enjoy (well, I did, I was just in a different world), or was even invited to, we walked out. It was as easy as pie. And, since no one really knew either of us were here, I won’t be known as the girl who fucked the professor.

The drive home was quiet. Like, even quieter than the drive here. He didn’t even have the music playing. I wondered if it was my fault, if he was regretting what we had done. If I had known he’d be so regretful, I wouldn’t have wanted to fuck him. But, I guess its too late now. 

When I looked out the window, I realized we were parked outside my apartment building. I looked down at my attire and looked back at Spencer.

“Thanks… Thanks for the ride… And thanks for the sweater. I’ll be sure to give it back to you… Eventually,” I looked up at Spencer as I pulled the door open to leave.

“See you Thursday,” he nodded at me. I looked at him before slamming the door shut. I scoffed before turning to walk up to my home. I couldn’t want to sleep.

{***}{***}{***}

Two weeks. Two weeks since Spencer and I fucked. Okay, not too bad. I don’t regret it, and I’m not afraid to say that. However, I think he might be regretting it. Considering he’d been nothing but ignoring me since the night of the par-Well, I wouldn’t say ignoring me since then. He did fuck me in his office the following Thursday. But, it’s still been two weeks since he last said anything to me. Fuck, I’ve never been so mad.

“Good morning, Professor Reid,” I looked at him as I skipped into his lecture hall. I heard his words begin to greet me back, but fail when he saw what I was wearing. “Best get to my seat. Excited for today’s lesson,” I readjusted the cardigan that hung off my shoulders before turning to go to my seat. 

I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I walked away from him. Or, was he staring at my ass. Most likely my ass. It was my ass he was staring at. I was wearing a fairly short skirt, so that’s on me. But, I’d do anything to get his attention today. And it would appear I have gotten it. 

His lesson wasn’t actually anything important. It was just revision for the test coming up soon. But, it was obvious he had other things on his mind, and I was very clearly one of them. It was honestly a little distracting if I’m going to be honest.

So, I was happy when he called the end of class 5 minutes early. Although that excitement was gone the second he called my name to the front to talk. I looked at the ground as I stood by his desk, waiting for the very last person to leave so Spencer and I could have our moment alone.

“What are you doing wearing that?” Spencer asked as soon as it was just us. I tried to ignore the fact that he was trying to take the sweater off me, and made my shoulders drop.

“What? This old thing?” I asked, pulling the cardigan that he let me wear around my body. I looked back at him and smiled. He was not smiling. “You gave it to me,” I scoffed, letting him take it off me without a fight. I watched as he folded it over the back of the chair before turning to face me. 

“I gave it to you so your,” his words began to get jumbled up as he gestured to my boobs, “So you weren’t exposed in front of any-”

“So no one would see what belonged to you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. Spencer looked down at me, a flabbergasted look on his face. I smiled and cocked my head to my shoulder.

“I… I never said that,” Spencer shook his head.

“Yeah, but you thought it,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Spencer looked down at me. I could tell that he was trying to be the one in charge, kinda like how he was the other night. But it was so, so clear that he couldn’t be in charge. That he wouldn’t be in charge now. That this was just embarrassing to him. Maybe that’s just how our dynamic would work. Out in public, I was the loud one, the one who made everyone think that I was in charge in the bedroom. And, Spencer, in public, was the quiet, shy, nervous one, who was clearly submissive in bed. But in actuality, he was telling me what to do, when and when I can’t cum.

 “Why were you wearing that?” he asked again, his voice pulling me from my very dirty thoughts. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Because you were ignoring me! I needed to get your attention somehow! And then I remembered I still had that,” I smiled at him. I wished I still had his sweater on, because it was actually quite cozy and warm. The look he gave me made me drop my shoulders, suddenly feeling ashamed about the current situation. So, I stared at him, feeling annoyed. More annoyed than I have over the last two weeks. “Do you regret it?” I finally asked, not really knowing if he’d be mad with my question. 

“Pardon me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me. I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “It’s not that I regret it-”

“So you do,” I looked back up at him and dropped my shoulders again. Before Spencer got the chance to say anything, I cut him off, “Oh please, you loved shoving your tongue, and cock, down my throat,” I scoffed before looking at him. The expression on his face flinched slightly as he looked back at me from behind the desk. “I get to… I get to be your good, little girl, your princess for, what, a week? A day? 12 hours? Whenever the fuck you want... And I’m supposed to go back to normal life the next day? And… And pretend that nothing happened!” I stared at him and shook my head. Spencer looked over at the door and back at me. “Thinking it’ll never happen again!” I shouted. I didn’t mean to shout, honest. But I was starting to get angry. He made me feel something like I belonged to someone. And now I don’t feel like that. 

“Will you stop talking for a second,” he muttered before stepping away from me and his desk. He walked over to the door and shut it. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as he walked back over to me. “I never said you had to pretend as if nothing happened. And I never said that I regret it,” he spoke in a harsh whisper. I looked at him with mild irritation on my face.

“It sure fucking felt like it,” I spat at him. 

“You’re all I think about… Christ, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that. I never said you had to forget everything… Because I’ve been having a hard time forgetting it myself.” He looked up at me. I almost refused to look at him, but his voice was so soft that I had to look at him. “I never expected you to forget,” he added. 

“Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen,” I stared at him before swallowing roughly, “You made me feel like I was wanted, that I belonged somewhere, with someone,” I spoke as I stepped closer to him. It was only a little bit closer to him, not as much as I wanted. But he stepped closer to me, making it so we were the closest we had been all day, in one large step. "You remind me of home," I added in a whisper. Spencer smiled and cocked his head to his shoulder.

“You do belong somewhere,” he whispered, resting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, and butterflies appear in my tummy. “And that somewhere is with me,” he brought at hand to my cheek, allowing his thumb to rest on my lower lip. I looked up at him before he pressed his lips to mine. 

I was honestly expecting him to say something else. I don’t know what. But I liked what he said, it made me feel really good. Like, I belonged with him, and nothing could change that.

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​

[extremelyblackandwhite]

scrubs - 5.

pairing: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

warnings: medical check up (please do not follow any of the medical advice described her)

a/n: this will have another chapter aside from this one because yes. 

< previous chapter

    - Y/N, stop being childish. - Sebastian rolled his eyes at the scientist now holding herself against reception, deciding she’d rather be seen by anyone but him. - Y/N, c’mon.

    - I don’t want to be seen by you. There are over 50 nurses on shift today and any of them can do a basic exam better than you. - she held onto that counter for dear life, knowing the moment she decided to let go, her ankle would give up on her. Nevertheless, she knew what nurses were capable off and most of the times they wouldn’t even need a doctor’s opinion so she definitely didn’t need him. 

    - Yeah but ... - he approached her, a smug smile forming on his entirely way too handsome face. - But I know your body so, so well, darling. I think I can figure out if something is wrong.

Y/N smiled sarcastically, cocking her head to the side before kicking his leg. Sebastian bite down onto his lip, back hunching slightly as a few nurses passed by. He waved at them, smiling as if his tibia throbbed due to her kick. For a small woman, she sure had a powerful kick. He straightened his back, pulling one of the wheel chairs from the back of the reception and rolling it up to where she was but she remained as stiff as one could be with a swollen ankle, with one hand against her hip while the other one firmly gripped the counter of the reception. 

   - Sit down, Y/N. Don’t make me write you up as unfit to work today.

   - I am not unfit to work today, I am unfit to look at your face for more than 5 seconds.  

   - Okay, Y/N then walk in a straight line for me, straight spine, shoulders back. - he stepped out of her way.

She considered trying to do that, surely she could deal with the pain of her own weight on her ankle for at least a few minutes. Yet again she considered the options of successfully doing so and getting away from him until another doctor or nurse passed by and the option of falling flat on her face in front of him. Her resolve quickly wore down as she remembered just  how small her tolerance of pain was and how much she did not want to embarrass herself in front of him by falling on her face.  Unlike him, she could be professional. After all she wasn’t the first staff member to sleep with a doctor and certainly wouldn’t be the last; besides, she was nothing if not a professional. She sighed, sitting down on the worn out fabric of the wheel chair. She’d give him this one, she thought to herself as he wheeled her into his office.

Despite her constantly nagging him about his results, she’d actually never gone up to his office that often. Dr. Stan was normally the one who’d made his way to her laboratory not the other way around. As a long time doctor, he had his own little office to receive his patients and as such, he decorated it how he pleased it and despite her wanting nothing but to compliment him after his past actions, she had to admit it was probably one of the calmest more inviting offices she’d seen before. Instead of the scary almost macabre posters of human anatomy and regular pathologies, he had some abstract art on his walls with one or two models on his desk and a most likely fake plant on too. 

     - Want help getting onto the stretcher? 

     - Fuck off, Stan. I can do it myself. - she couldn’t do it herself. 

She looked at the stretcher as a goal keeper looks at a football. The stretcher couldn’t be taller than the height from her feet to just slightly above her hip, yet it seems as if that height was now taller than Mount Everest. Y/N calculated her movements and put her hands on top of the stretcher, pulling herself up with her arms and dragging herself into the middle of the stretcher, legs and arms out but her torso was in so she wiggled herself into laying down completely on the stretcher before pulling herself up.

    - We could’ve done that in a second if you’d let me help you. - he rolled his eyes, stepping in front of her and the stretcher.

    - I can help myself, Doctor.

    - Oh, is Doctor now? - he replied rather sarcastically, pulling opening the glove compartment in his office. - Are you allergic to latex or any ingredient in regular plastic gloves I should know about?

    - Shouldn’t you know if I am allergic to latex? - she cocked her side to the side much to his displeasure. - No, no latex allergies. 

    - Okay ... - he put some bright blue gloves on before walking back to her. - First, I’m just going to palpate around the top of your scalp to check for any trauma or signs of injury. 

    - My ankle is hurting, not my head.

    - You hit your head, it’s standard procedure. - her shoulders slumped as he proceeded to palpate around her head. It felt ridiculous, she was fine, she did not need an examination of her head. - Looks good, no bumps, so the fall probably wasn’t harsh on your head.

    - I could have told you that. Do they not teach you to hear to your patients in med school?

    - How would you know? You didn’t go to med school. 

    - I’m starting to think you didn’t either. 

    - Okay. - he rolled his eyes once more at her snide remark. - The next thing I am going to do is have a look inside your ears to see if there’s any bleeding, just to make sure we’re covering all our bases.

    - Why are you telling me? You’re the doctor. - Sebastian ignored her, taking his otoscope out of the pocket of his coat and placing a rubber disposable tip on the end before putting it up to her ear and switching to the other one. 

   - Everything looks good in both ears, no signs of bleeding. Your tympanic membranes look clear and I didn’t see any fluids or blood behind them. No defects and if it interests you to know there’s also no excess wax build up. Can you just tell me if it was painful or sore when I looked into your ear?

   - Shouldn’t you have asked that while you were looking into my ear?

   - Y/N if you don’t start taking this seriously, I ...

   - You will what?

   - Do you seriously want me to call a nurse on you? I normally only have to do that with children and elderly patients.

    - You wouldn’t. - she squinted, hands gripping the material of the stretcher.

    -  Try me. - he crossed his arms. - I’ll ask again. Was it painful or sore when I looked into your ear?

    - Yes.

    - What?

    - No. - she held in a laugh, bitting the inside of her lip. 

    - Y/N ...

    - Glad to know you have not forgotten your patient’s name, doctor. Doing great.    

    - Okay, Y/N. I need you to be serious with me now and answer truthfully or I’ll order a CT scan for you.

    - I hate CT scans.

    - I know. - he smirked. - So, what’s it gonna be?

    - Would you seriously make the hospital cover an expensive CT scan to check for a concussion that I don’t have just to upset me?

   - Oh, no, sweetheart. If you continue to be a brat, I will order a full body CT scan and if they ask I’ll just say I’m covering all my bases. So, what’s it gonna be? You’re gonna play nice or do you prefer to get an exam done?

    - Call me sweetheart again and you’ll get a concussion. How about that? 

    - You can do whatever you want to do to me after we’re done but until then you will answer the questions I have truthfully. Deal?

    - What other option do I have? - she crossed her arms at him. Y/N knew she was being unnecessarily difficult with him but she also knew that there was a 0.1% chance she had a concussion. Nevertheless, he looked dead serious on ordering a CT scan for her and the last thing she wanted was to have a claustrophobic attack because she refused to answer a few questions. - Fine.

   - Good. So, what time did this happen?

   - I don’t know, I don’t exactly look at my watch after falling down the stairs. 

   - Y/N ...

   - Like ... 20 minutes ago. 

   - What did you feel when you fell?

   - My head was pounding, my ankle felt hottish and I felt a bit nauseous.

    - Do you feel nauseous when you feel pain or is that something new for you?

    - No, it happens when I get hurt. 

    - Any dizziness or blurred vision? Metallic taste in the mouth, almost blood like?

    - I don’t think so.  

    - Any tingling or weird sensations around your face and neck?  

    - No. 

    - Okay, so ... I’m gonna have a look in your eyes. - he took his light from the same pocket he had taken the otoscope from. - I need you to look at me and not at the light. Don’t focus on it, okay?

She nodded, deciding it would be best if she went along with it before she was stuck in his office for a whole hour. He turned the light on and she did as was required of her by staring at him. She thought she could make him feel uncomfortable but it ended up being her who felt uncomfortable as flashes from last night picked that exact moment to return to her brain. Y/N told herself to cut it off and tried to continue to stare at him but gave up after a few minutes of her now sober brain deciding to show her exactly what she had been doing last night. She turned her head to the side, closing her eyes forcefully.

   - Are you okay, Y/N? - he put a hand on her shoulder but she shook him away, turning her face back to a neutral position. - Too bright.

   - Well ... uhm, yeah it is shining directly in my eyes.

   - Okay. I don’t need to look more into them, they look fine. Nothing to worry about. I just need you to open your mouth now?

   - What? No.

   - Why not? 

   - Because ... - because my brain has decided that sounds much less innocent than it actually sounds. - Because I don’t want to.

   - Y/N, c’mon. I just need you to open your mouth and then check your ankle and you can be out of here just like you want to.

   - I don’t want you looking into my mouth. 

   - I have seen you naked and that’s what you’re worried about? Me looking into your mouth? 

   - You are not a dentist, you don’t need to be looking into my mouth.

   - Your answer was unclear so yeah, I need to. Open your mouth. 

   - Stop asking me that. Can you pose the question in a different manner?

   - God, I swear if you’re doing this on purpose. 

   - I am not. 

   - Fine. Say ah, then. 

   - That just sounds worse. - she felt her cheeks heat up. 

Sebastian rolled his eyes, pulling the chair from behind his desk. This surely was going to take longer than expected. He knew she’d be defensive but he didn’t know she would be so difficult. In all honesty, he didn’t even know why she was mad at him. The only thing he could remember was being hit by her files before she stormed off. Yet again, Y/N was almost always annoying with him so it wasn’t a new occurrence. The new occurrence was a patient asking him to reformulate the question. 

   - Y/N what are you ... oh. - it finally dawned on him. - That’s not work appropriated, Y/N.

   - I swear if you keep on talking I will throw you off your own window.

   - So dirty. - he took one of the wooden spatulas from the stand on his desk. 

   - Fuck off.

   - Come on. - she reluctantly opened her mouth and had it not been for the wooden spatula holding her tongue and jaw down, she would’ve probably closed it as fast as she had opened it. - Looks good. I just need to repeat some numbers back at me, okay? 55, 10, 40, 9, 1.

    - 55, 10, 40, 9, 1. 

    - Good. I don’t think you have any concussion. I just need to check your ankle now. Can you put your foot on my lap and please not kick me?

     - I’m tempted to. -  she rose her ankle and placed it on his lap. He proceeded to take of her shoe and sock before starting to palpate around her ankle which was visibly swollen. 

    - I’m gonna turn your foot to the left and to the right. If anything hurts, let me know, okay? - she nodded as he turned her foot carefully to the lift and to the right, but it didn’t hurt, it was just sore. - No pain?

    - No.

    - Good news, I don’t think it’s broken, just strained. Some ibuprofen for inflammation and some ice and in a few hours you can at least limp without pain. 

    - I don’t have some hours. Unlike you, I have work to get done.

    - So do I, Y/N. You think I enjoyed having you take longer than 30 minutes in what should’ve been a 15/20 minute exam? 

    - Oh, I’m sorry. - she interrupted him. - Did my injury overstep on your gossiping about sleeping with me? I’m so sorry, I’m sure the whole hospital will still be waiting for you anyway.

    - What?

    - Can you please give me a minute so I can limp out of here in anger?

    - You think I’m telling the hospital staff I slept with you?

    - Well, the whole hospital knows and I didn’t tell them so unless we had a threesome I have recollection about then there’s only two of us who knew and if I didn’t tell them, guess who did? And before you can answer it’s you, the answer is you. 

    - I didn’t tell anyone, Y/N. I have better things to do than discuss my sex life with the whole hospital. 

   - That’s just dandy. - she jumped of the stretcher, ignoring the pain which started in her ankle and climbed up her leg but she didn’t mind. Now she was upset, one thing was him telling everyone and the other one was denying he had done as such. - You know what Sebastian? I get it, you slept with the lab girl who annoys you and you wanna tell everyone about it. Fine, but at least admit it. 

   - Y/N, I didn’t tell anyone.

   - Fine, say whatever makes you feel better.  

taglist: @rebekahdawkins​

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed The Radio Star - Chapter 5 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Sorry for the lack of content in the past two days, I have been working a little more this week and certain things happened that made me a little depressed. I am feeling better and I am hoping that you all enjoy this new chapter! Please reach out if you ever have any questions or send me a message if you would like to share any theories!

Warnings: Talk of addiction, just emotional garbage, let me know if I missed anything!

Plot: Spencer Reid extends an olive branch. We explore how Y/N is dealing with the aftermath of her abduction and how she is dealing with it all.

Word Count:3.1K

You were screaming, your ears were ringing so it was all muffled, but you could feel the air leaving your lungs. But, before you could see anymore of the gruesome sight in front of you, a newer and prettier sight blocked your vision. You only recognized him from the photos you found of him, Spencer Reid.

If you were in a different situation, preferably one where you hadn’t just watched someone’s head get blown to bits, you would feel embarrassed. He opened his mouth and that's when all sound returned “Y/N,” you could hear your sobs “Look at me.” Your eyes were shifting anxiously, trying to look behind him to see Heather. Spencer moved his head with yours, his eyes fixed onto yours.

You tried to speak, but all the words were lost as you sobbed, you took in a deep breath before you managed to say "Dr. Reid,” Spencer tried to hide his surprise, he knew you had researched the team, he just didn’t expect you to call him Doctor right out of the gate.  “I want to go home.” you pulled in a desperate gulp of air, trying to calm down. Spencer was about to reassure you that you would be home soon, but the EMTs were already moving you. Your eyes caught one last look at Heather’s exploded head before your body went limp on the gurney.

Spencer watched the paramedics take you out, a surprising feeling of anxiety rising in his chest as he watched them leave before he turned around to focus on the corpse behind him.

You woke up to the sounds of steady beeping, eyes opening to confirm that you were in a hospital bed. Your foot was in a cast, carefully suspended as you looked around the room. You could see your mother right outside, talking to someone that you couldn’t quite see from your position on the hospital bed.

Your mother looked over her shoulder and saw that you were awake, gasping gently in awe. She worked her way back into the hospital room with a relieved smile on her face. “You’re awake,” she sighed happily, reaching for your hand. She was looking for something else to say, finding herself at a loss as she stared at her only child, her only daughter. Her eyes met yours and you gave her a tight smile.

“Hi, mom,” you said in a voice so quiet, knowing that your throat took some damage from all the screaming.

“Hi, honey,” she began to cry tears falling silently as she held your hand tighter.

“Excuse me,” a timid voice interrupted the moment.

Your attention was pulled towards the voice, smiling quickly at the sight of Dr. Reid standing there as he fidgeted with the strap of his bag, looking incredibly awkward as he did so. “Dr. Reid!” you exclaimed as your bed rose slowly so that you could sit up in the bed, you looked for the button, only to find that your mother was the one who was pressing the button.

Spencer returned your smile as he shuffled closer to the bed, “You can just call me Spencer.” He kindly informed you. “We usually don’t visit, but I, well, just wanted to see how you were doing.”

You swallowed nervously, not knowing how to answer him, “I’m alive,” you settled with a nervous chuckle, Spencer let out a tiny scoff and nodded in agreement. You turned your head towards your mother, “Can I get a moment with,” you began to say doctor before you stopped yourself,  “A moment with Spencer, please?” you begged your mother sweetly as you saw the hesitation in her eyes. That was natural, of course, because her daughter had just been abducted for a good four days.

But, she left nonetheless smiling at Spencer as she did so. You cleared your throat softly, you knew that as soon as you spoke about it, the abduction, you would break. You motioned for Spencer to come closer with a grin, waiting to speak till he was at the side of the hospital bed. “You saw my videos,” Spencer blinked at your statement, waiting for you to continue. “I thought I was going crazy, seriously. Then when it happened, she,” you felt your voice crack, “She was horrible. I’m so scared, so scared, that I’ll never be able to recover.”  You croaked softly, stealing a glance up at Spencer. “Will I be able to recover, Spencer?”

Spencer couldn’t help but feel like he was being thrown into the limelight with that question. He knew the correct answer was a simple yes, he could just say yes and leave it at that. His time with Tobias made him see things differently, made him want to be more inspirational, to be more open, but it was hard. “You’ll be able to recover. It’ll take time, but you can.” was all he could manage before he was digging into his bag to look for a pen of some kind. “If you ever need anything, I could,” he found a sharpie, “Could I give you my number?” He asked, holding up the sharpie with a tiny grin.

“Are you allowed to?”

“Well, I don’t think-”

“I was kidding, Spencer.” you pointed down to the cast on your foot. “Would you be the first to sign my cast?”

Spencer uncapped the pen, writing his name in bold lettering followed by his number underneath it. “It’s beautiful,” you laughed softly, turning your head to look at Spencer. Spencer felt a tiny shiver cross his spine as you graced him with a look of adoration. He nodded stiffly, heading over to the door. “Spencer,” you called.

“Yes?” He turned around, half expecting something from a romantic comedy to happen. Then again you were lying in a hospital bed, he doubted your mind was on the same track as his.

“Thank you. Please tell the rest of the team thank you for me too?” Spencer felt his smile return in a second, then he nodded, and he was gone.

***

March 16, 20XX

It was your third day out of the hospital. You were sleeping in your old room at your mother’s house, your mother didn’t want you to go back to your apartment and you had time off from your job, so you were sleeping in your old room. It was around three in the morning when it happened, you could feel something pressing onto your stomach. The memory shot through you as you sat up in a cold sweat, looking around for her. She wasn’t there, of course, thank god she wasn’t there.

You stared up at the ceiling for a while after that, waiting for sleep to crash down on you, but it never came. Every time you would close your eyes you felt, suddenly,  numb, you could feel morphine in your veins. The part that scared you the most was that when you opened your eyes you missed it. You missed feeling numb and that terrified you.

It was around five in the morning that you got up, grabbing your crutches quickly, silently realizing that sleep was never going to come to you as you walked out of the room with a frown.

Two hours later, your mother emerged from her room at the sound of the television playing. Upon seeing you she frowned, but you simply patted one of the cushions on the couch and she was smiling as she took a seat next to you. You wanted to tell her how you were feeling, tell her how you felt like you needed something more to keep the edge off, but guilt consumed you. You felt so guilty for worrying her, you felt guilty for waking her up, you felt like a burden. She didn’t need to know that her daughter was thinking like that, she didn’t need to know that her daughter was feeling overwhelmed. So you sat next to her in ignorant silence, watching the television play.

It was just after noon when it first happened, you caught the tiniest look of pink light, something outside of the kitchen window. Suddenly you were in the room, in the pink room again, fire spreading throughout your body. You squeezed your eyes tight, trying to breathe, trying to calm down. You opened your eyes, blinking away panic as the sight of your mother’s kitchen reassured you that you were safe.

You let out a slow sigh, rolling your shoulders back, attempting to calm down. She was dead and you were out, safe. You shouldn’t be scared of someone who can’t hurt you, but then again people are scared of the dark and darkness isn’t even a person. You grabbed a glass, filling it with tap water, and walked back to the living room with a fake smile.

March 20, 20XX

It took about four days to persuade your mother to let you go back home to your apartment. You didn’t necessarily want to leave her house, but you were scared that with all of your anxieties and flashbacks you would worry her further. It was better to let her think that you were healthy and that you were doing better.

You waved from the doors of your apartment, watching her get into her car as you walked into the lobby of your apartment. After a momentarily struggle with your crutches, you managed to get to your apartment door. You stood outside of the door, fear making the hairs on your arms stand up as you slowly reached for the door handle.

You pushed the door in, watching it swing wide open as you quickly hobbled in, removing your keys from the lock as you shut the door behind you. Carefully limping over to your desk, you plopped down onto your desk chair. You frowned as you watched your closed computer on your desk, feeling as if you should be speaking. You hated to be alone now, you never said it out loud, but you always felt like someone was watching you now. It would be at any time of the day, morning, noon, or night and you would get the feeling that someone’s eyes were on you. That, someone, was watching you, waiting for you to be vulnerable, waiting for you to slip up and do something wrong.

You scooted closer to the desk, looking down at the photos you had printed out, chuckling to yourself as you remember how you took the time to leave tiny notes on them, they were misplaced but all of the notes were still there. You had hoped that your notes made them feel better, you wrote them in guilt. You felt guilty for your videos, feeling as if they were useless to the case, but now you could see that they helped.

After a couple of hours of cleaning your apartment, or making an attempt to clean it, you were lying on the couch trying to ignore the feelings that were washing over you. In the coming days, you were a blizzard of emotions. You would get angry at little things, flinched if something touched you when you least expected it, but the two emotions that controlled you a majority of the time were helplessness and fear.

You would yearn for some kind of release from your mind, convincing yourself that if you could get your hands on something strong enough, the world would simply melt away and leave you in mind-numbing bliss. You wanted to feel nothing again, all you wanted to do was stare at the ceiling and let your mind be empty. Right now, for example, you were alone and everything was silent, and yet your mind was screaming. Screaming in a silly panic that someone was in your apartment, screaming that something bad was about to happen, and in the darkest of times crying that the wrong person died in that room. If you were simply numb, you could float out of your mind and feel as if you were normal for a couple of hours, maybe you would feel less helpless.

Fear would enrapture you daily with a simple memory. You would wake up in the night, chest burning, phantom pain spreading through your chest as you felt a paring knife dig into your skin again. You knew you were safe, but something as simple as a kitchen knife made your heart race. That wasn’t normal, you knew it wasn’t normal. You just didn’t know who to talk to, you couldn’t think of anyone.

So you were lying down on your couch, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to think about anything else but the abduction. There was a fleeting thought, one involving Spencer Reid. He had given you his number to call if you ever needed to, but every time you would punch the numbers into your phone you would stop yourself from pressing the call button. Convincing yourself that he simply gave you his number to be nice, not because he was trying to be your friend. You realized how painfully stupid you sounded, but you decided you were right and left it alone for now.

March 21, 20XX

You were lying in your bed, feeling soft air fan your face as you opened your eyes. You smiled seeing him next to you, you couldn’t make out his face but you were comfortable with that. You let out a giddy giggle as you felt his hands wrap around your torso. You went to say his name, but that’s when you woke up.

Your heart was racing as you rolled over to your right, letting out a secretly disappointed sigh as you saw that no one was there. Heather had left you hating most romantic things, you had a personal thing against roses now, but even she couldn’t ruin romantic dreams. You were happy those were yours to enjoy still. You rolled onto your back, pressing a hand into your chest as your heart thundered in your chest. It had been so long since your last romantic endeavor, well unless you counted Heather as a romantic endeavor, which you did not. You were happy being single, but certain things would happen that would make you suddenly feel very, very, lonely. You loved, love, but you weren’t quite ready to feel it yet. Something always seemed to hold you back when in the presence of new romance, this time that thing was trauma. You couldn’t imagine being happy with anyone, especially not now.

You relaxed into the mattress, letting out a soft hum as you closed your eyes again, reliving the dream you had just seconds ago. It would be nice to have that, but it was just a dream and that was all it would be for now.

You sat up with a gentle grunt, you didn’t want today to be like the last, today maybe you would do something differently. You didn’t want to feel like porcelain today, you wanted to feel normal again. You had spent twelve days feeling broken, so maybe today could be different. You slipped one slipper on, the cast on your right leg already working as a big, hard, slipper, as you made your way towards the kitchen.

You were about to make something for breakfast, toast a bagel if that counts as breakfast when there was a gentle knock at the door. You hobbled over as fast as you could, opening it to see a man standing there with red roses. You felt your mouth go dry as you stared at them. He frowned when he looked at you, apologizing for going to the wrong apartment. You shut the door quickly but stood there frozen. You felt your chest tighten as you let stray tears fall from your eyes. You walked back into the kitchen with tears streaming down your face as you put the bagel into the toaster.

You were sitting at your kitchen table, picking at your bagel as you thought about it all. You needed to think about it because you couldn’t let something as simple as a bouquet of roses make you feel so helpless. You couldn’t let that experience hold so much power over you.

It would be smarter to visit a therapist, but you were already struggling to make ends meet, no need to add to that problem. So, for now, you were your therapist. The healthy thing would be to think about the present instead of focusing on the past, however, the past was also just twelve days ago. It was possible that in this situation it was better to simply give it time. To let the pain run its course until one day you woke up and felt better, but that was just as good as not doing anything. You had to do something, it would drive you crazy to just simply wait around to feel better. That wasn’t who you were, you took a tiny bite of your bagel.

Spencer was on the plane, coming back from a case in Arizona. He was leaning his head against the walls of the plane, gazing out the window to watch the clouds. In the past twelve days, he felt particularly strange. By strange, he felt like something was in the works. He was an avid follower of philosophy, he had a bachelor’s degree in it after all, but he didn’t know how he felt about fate. A little over fifty percent of Americans believed in fate, but Spencer didn’t know which part of the statistics he fell under; the fifty percent that didn’t believe or the fifty percent that believed.

Nonetheless, he felt as if something was going to happen. It wasn’t a good feeling, nor was it a bad feeling, it was just simply a feeling. An anxious shiver moved down his spine as he watched the clouds move, he was hoping it would be a good thing.

The sun was setting now and you, having spent all day trying to decide what could help you, watched it from your window. The sky was turning a beautiful color of purple and pink, the colors mixing as you sat on the edge of your bed. You blew some hair out of your face, picking up your phone. You looked down at your cast as you typed in the number, fingers shaking with anxiety as you hit the green button at the bottom of the screen.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” you smiled hearing his voice, feeling unusually calm all of the sudden.

“Hi, Spencer,”

[bentforkent]

caffeine, small talk

spencer reid x female!reader, enemies to lovers

content warning: smut !!!!!!, oral sex (male receiving), explicit language, tiny suicide reference, general meanness & bickering (including slut-shaming and toxicity), also some fluff in there too :)

word count: 3,668

in which spencer reid is a royal pain in the ass and he & the reader butt heads. 

“would you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends?” - taylor swift, betty 

spencer reid is a royal pain in the ass. you don’t need to be a genius to know this as fact. as soon as you had stepped foot into quantico’s behavioral analysis unit on your first day however many years ago, the little shit had gotten under your skin. you had worn a lower cut top that day, you remember, and spencer hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of your chest. when hotch introduced you to the team, you gave a brief speech about your background and education, and each member of the team was hung on your every word, except for fucking spencer. he had been distracted by your looks. you remember feeling conscious of his eyes on your cleavage and tugging your blazer closed. from that moment, standing at the front of the bullpen, feeling exposed to him, you decided you hated spencer reid.

“glad to meet everyone,” you had addressed the team sincerely, in conclusion of your introductory spiel. on your way to your new desk, luckily placed across the room and behind spencer’s, he reached out and grabbed your elbow, standing.

“hi y/n, i’m dr. spencer reid,” he had said. the individual introduction probably would’ve warmed your heart (everyone else’s sure did, anyways) if you hadn’t already decided that spencer would be your official workplace enemy.

“dr. reid,” you nodded curtly. you pulled your arm from his grip firmly and resumed walking.

“hey,” he called after you. “i wanted to tell you—”

you paused and turned to him. “tell me what? how good my tits look in this shirt?” you whisper yelled, trying to maintain some level of professionalism. unsure how to answer you, spencer gaped like a goldfish. “you should know, as a woman, it’s really uncomfortable when you can feel weird pervs like you staring at my boobs. on my first day.” you leaned in closer. “my first fucking day!”

spencer retreated to his desk without a word. he wouldn’t meet your eyes, and that was the end of that. until the case. your very first case. spencer was pissed that you had snapped at him, and subsequently took it out on you. his tone of voice was consistently harsh and condescending as he addressed you on the case.

“no, y/n, that doesn’t fit the profile.”

“well, actually…”

“you’re not experienced enough to understand this.”

“my three phds told me i should work on this map alone.”

the feud has escalated since then. everyone on the team is aware of you and spencer’s solid disdain for each other, and they make a point to keep you two apart nowadays. morgan had once gripped both you and spencer by your shirt collars and forced you to apologize to each other, when your verbal abuse of each other had turned dangerously unprofessional.

“y/n, did you know that the earliest documentation of a ‘miniskirt’ was in a 1962 article?”

“did you know that the earliest documentation of me kicking your ass was today?”

“no, listen, the men interviewed for the article were in favor of miniskirts if they were only worn on women they didn’t know. they liked to lust after other women in the short skirts, but if their wives or daughters wore them, they were seen as poor reflections of the men. as whores.”

“what’s your point?”

“you look like a whore today.”

“fuck you, spencer. you know you beat your dick to your photographic memory of my ass in this skirt.” you mimed an orgasm.

“it’s eidetic, and i’d rather kill myself.”

“would you please?”

“fuck—” spencer started, but morgan intervened here.

——————————————

“close your mouth, boy wonder,” you greet spencer, opening your door to let him in. it’s your turn to host the team for drinks and dinner. much to your chagrin, spencer is a part of the team, and thus receives an invitation. you find solace in knowing penelope will probably distract you from any interaction with the lanky boy. besides, whenever the team hung out at your apartment, he quickly left after a few drinks and a short chat anyway. you could survive him for half of a night.

spencer flits past you and into your living room. the team greets him in an uproar of “reid!” and raised drinks. derek sticks out with his chant of “pretty boy!”

“y/n,” jj calls, “we’re dry over here.” she raises her empty glass of merlot.

“more wine, or something else, my loves?”

there’s an absence of voices shouting between rooms as the team discusses. you lean against your kitchen cabinet with eyes fixated on your liquor collection. waiting. this team sure does take their drinks seriously, you think, taking the time by yourself to make yourself an old fashioned. muddle a sugar cube in bitters. add whiskey. as you’re putting an ice cube into the glass, none other than spencer fucking reid saunters into the kitchen, a notepad in his hand.

“i have a list of drink requests,” he says simply, expression blank.

“resident alcohol connoisseur at your service. hit me,” you reply. your tone is more joking than you’ve ever used with spencer, but if he’s caught off guard he doesn’t show it. he rattles off the drink orders, each one something you probably could’ve guessed. penelope always wants something fruity, emily always wants something strong.

when his list is finished, you look up from the liquor to him. “nothing for the boy genius?”

“i’m leaving soon,” he says, and retreats back to the living room, arms full with drinks held precariously. you follow with the rest of the alcohol, handing each drink to its respective drinker. they each thank you profusely.

because your couch isn’t big enough to hold the whole team, you sit on the floor, legs criss-crossed. the team makes lighthearted conversation about not murder and kidnapping for an hour, with you getting up to refill drinks once more in that time. “i like hanging out at y/n’s place, guys. she makes the best drinks,” derek says with a grin up at you.

“i was a bartender in my past life, i think,” you deadpan. penelope agrees with you loudly, with a slurp of her colorful newest drink accompanying.

“speaking of bartenders,” jj starts, and you see spencer visibly tense. “when are you leaving for your date, spence?” she says the word date with a sing-songy tone, dragging out the ‘a,’  and you suddenly feel sick.

the team, naturally, dissolves into excited chatter. reid? a date? you’re silent, focused on your cocktail as the topic of conversation isn’t exactly your favorite. spencer’s not your favorite, you mean. this isn’t about spencer’s date. screw spencer. you don’t care if he goes on a date.

you listen as he fills the rest of the team in on the story. he and jj had gone for drinks one afternoon and he really hit it off with the bartender. lauren, her name is, and jj assures the team that she’s gorgeous. spencer laughs a little, uncomfortable, and stands to leave.

a wave of anger surges over you. how dare he skip out on his friends to go on a date? “i’ll walk you to your car, spencer!” you say cheerily, the lightheartedness in your voice in direct conflict with your internal emotion. the team isn’t stupid, however, and they’ve never heard you be nice at all to spencer, so everyone is acutely aware that something is about to go down. the room feels like the air has been sucked out of it as spencer meets your gaze.

“okay,” he says hesitantly.

you turn to the team. “be good while i’m gone, my loves. the alcohol is on the counter if you, by some crazy chance, need a refill in the next five minutes.” you blow them a kiss, penelope pretending to catch it. the rest of the team stares up at you with wide eyes. “let’s go, genius.” you open the door and escort him out.

as soon as the door latches behind you, spencer pipes up. “what the fuck are you doing, y/n?”

“walking you to your car, dipshit.” there’s a pregnant silence as you walk down the stairs of your apartment complex. “you know, it’s pretty fucked up for you to skip out on team bonding because of a date, spencer, but i understand. i know how important it is for you to lose your virginity one day.”

“fuck you, y/n. you really followed me down here to berate me?”

“yeah, i was getting a little bored just letting you sit there silently.” you lean your side against his car as he unlocks it and tosses his bag into the backseat.

he copies your stance, leaning across from you and looking at you intently. “why do you hate me?”  his tone of voice is low, and you can tell he’s mad.

“you irritate me,” you reply.

“not good enough.” his hazel eyes search your face and even though it’s dark, you can tell they look like honey from the glow of the street lamps.

“you annoy me.”

“again, not good enough. those are synonyms.”

his calm demeanor is enough to send you over the edge. “i hate that you look at me, spencer!” you exclaim, raising your voice. “you make me feel like i’m inferior, like i’m a piece of goddamn fucking meat.” you push your pointer finger into his chest. “you think i’m less intelligent than you, you think i’m less qualified than you, and frankly, you’re a pompous asshole.” he’s silent in stark contrast to your yelling in his face. “i hate your date for tonight. i hate that the whole team loves you.  i hate your fucking cardigans and your fucking converse. i hate when you wear a tie but it’s a little too long or a little too short. i hate that sometimes, you wear a hair tie on your wrist but,” you enunciated each word with a stomp of your foot, “you. never. put. your. hair. up.”

“you’re saying all this, y/n, and i get it, i really do,” he speaks coolly. “all I’m hearing, though, is that you’re in love with me.”

“you cocky fucking asshole.” riled up, you turn and attempt to walk away. spencer grabs your elbow and you’re reminded of the day you first met.

“you hate my cardigans? my ties? my shoes? y/n, for someone who hates that i look at her, you sure look at me a lot.” his voice has less of an edge now, less arrogance. you hum, face still turned away from him. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’ve been a dick to you for years. i own that, and i’m sorry. but i think you came down here because subconsciously, you didn’t want me to get in my car and go on this date tonight.” his hand is still on your elbow, but you pull it away to rub your eyes.

he has absolutely deflated you. the anger you felt in the moments just before is missing, and you take his words to heart. it’s impossible. you weren’t in love with spencer, y/n. just tell him you’re not in love with him, it’s simple. he’s your mortal enemy. you’re not in love with him.

“i think i may be love with you,” you say meekly, finally turning to him. fuck. you meet his eyes for the first time in what feels like years. maybe it had been. he’s softer than you remember.

“y/n, let me kiss you.”

“i’m nervous,” you admit in a whisper. he rubs his hand across your cheek and you lean into the touch. “spencer, literally two minutes ago i wanted you dead, and now…” you trail off. he nods in silent agreement. the two of you stand like that for a few more moments, his hands cupping your face, your eyes raking his features. “…you’re pretty,” you finish quietly. “have you always been pretty?”

he pretends to think for a moment. “yeah, actually.”

you give a watery chuckle and pull away from his embrace gently. “the team is still upstairs. if you really want to kiss me, ditch your date tonight and come back up.”  after you press a hand to his cheek lovingly, you retreat to your apartment quickly, hardly giving him time to follow you.

when you reenter the apartment, the team is silent and staring at you. it’s obvious by their faces that they’d just been talking about you. you close the door behind you and press your back against it. “hi, guys,” you say.

“nothing? no harsh words about reid?” derek peers at you closely.

as you make your way back into the living room, you point a finger at him. “don’t profile me, derek!” everyone chuckles. you don’t plan on bringing up spencer at all, but the silence that settles over the team breaks you. maybe you’re just excited to talk about it, you think, and where once you’d push that thought away, now you welcome it. you gush about what happened in the parking lot, using your hands to emphasize important points. you give the team a short version, expecting spencer to be back up at the apartment any moment. how embarrassing would it be if he walked in the door and you were talking about him? none of the team seemed particularly shocked, but emily casually mentioned how funny it is that none of them had figured out that you and spencer were grappling with feelings for each other.

“if it makes anyone feel any better, i didn’t figure it out either. the only one who did was…”

“reid,” everyone choruses in unison. you dissolve into giggles until the time hits you. it’d taken you about 20 minutes to explain the situation. so much for the short version, but surely spencer would’ve been back by now. unless…you hadn’t considered the possibility that he left. that he actually went on his date instead.

penelope takes note of your sudden shift in expression. “uh, y/n, i hate to say this, but…”

you nod. “he would’ve been back by now, yeah.” you climb up from your seated position and walk to your bedroom, looking out of your window that overlooks the parking lot. “he left,” you call back to the living room, despondent. “fucking asshole,” you whisper. you can hear derek sigh even from your distance. you take a second to compose yourself. fixing your posture, vertebra over vertebra. you allow your emotions to shut off, any sadness you felt towards spencer’s obvious rejection pushed away and replaced with a void. you pad back into the living room.

“well, that’s embarrassing,” you say with a half-laugh. jj gives you a sad look. “anyways, anyone who’s not driving home tonight is welcome to get loaded with me tonight. i just got new shot glasses.” your attempt at acting fine obviously wasn’t flying with the team, and after a moment of silence you finally let it go and sink into the chair next to the couch.

“no more alcohol tonight,” jj says.

“yeah, agreed. i hate to kick you guys out, but i feel like i might just spend the rest of the night in the bathtub. with the lights off.” everyone agrees, standing to leave. you thank them repeatedly for hanging out with you, and apologize for the unfortunate ending to the evening.

you hug penelope, jj, and emily. as you’re opening your arms to embrace derek, there’s a knock at the door. you pause, arms still outstretched. you look around in a panic, and derek pipes up, “well, are you gonna get that?” you feel like you can taste the excitement in the air as everyone pieces together who’s just knocked.

you swing open the door, and there’s spencer, a large bouquet of flowers perched in his arms. “i’m sorry I took so long, i went to get—”

you cut him off by pressing your lips to his firmly. it’s a short kiss, but it says what it needs to say. there are hoots and hollers from behind you, but there’s no one in the room except you and spencer. “you frustrate me.”

————————————————–

you press tiny kisses along spencer’s bare chest. your friends are long gone, leaving pretty swiftly after spencer had shown up. you and spencer had moved to the couch quickly, lips locked, but not before he had explained what the flowers he bought you signified.

“according to the victorian flower code, red tulips signify a declaration of love. victorians used flowers to communicate feelings because courting someone and showing feelings in public was considered taboo.”

“that’s nice, spencer. i like that. is there a flower for “i thought i hated you but it was actually just repressed sexual tension?”

you lay on his chest, limbs entangled. he’s got one hand in your hair stroking gently and the other resting on your stomach, where his thumbs make unconscious circles. “hey, i have this pendant on my necklace, too,” you whisper, tangling your fingers in the chain around his neck. he’s silent for a long time. “spence?” you look up at him. he’s looking down at you, brows furrowed and eyes wistful.

“you wore that necklace on your first day,” he murmurs. “when you were introducing yourself to the team. and i noticed.” the wheels start to turn in your head. “i tried to tell you that we had the same pendant. i was gonna show you,” he sighs. “i was excited to tell you. but you thought i was staring at your boobs.”

you frown, twisting to press a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “i called you a perv. i remember.” he nods. you pout. “i’m sorry, spence. think of how different things would’ve been if i had just listened.”

“yeah, you should probably work on that,” he jokes.

“how can i make it up to you?” you ask, knowing fully well what your plan is. you move smoothly from the couch onto your knees in front of him. “how can i make up for lost time?” he doesn’t respond. he doesn’t need to. you make quick work of his belt buckle as he looks down at you through hooded lids.

time moves slowly as you unbutton and unzip his pants, and spencer is in agony waiting. you look so pretty. he lifts his hips slightly to help you remove his pants. “i don’t think i’ve ever heard you this quiet, spence,” you murmur as you begin palming his bulge through his boxers.

he breathes out a soft moan. “yeah, well your hand is on my dick, so pardon me.” his words are spencer’s typical deadpan, but his voice is an octave higher than usual and full of breath. you tug his boxers down just enough to free his hard cock, and you’re taken aback. he’s big, longer than he is wide. his dick is painfully stiff, wet with precum, and you’ve never wanted to suck someone off more than you have in this moment.

“you’ve been holding out on me, dr. reid,” you grin, eager. you begin to pump him slowly, tantalizingly.

he lets out a high pitched moan and bucks his hips into your hand. “stop teasing.”

“teasing?” you bring your lips to his cock and kiss down his shaft. “i’ve never teased you, not once in my life.” you punctuate by licking a long strip up the base of his cock and pulling him into your mouth slowly. his left hand finds your hair, tugging it back into a ponytail, and his right strokes your cheek softly. you look up at him as you hollow your cheeks and he lets out a rumbling groan at the eye contact. you bob your head slowly, gradually picking up speed. each time his cock hits the back of your throat, spencer whimpers. as you speed up, tears spill out of your eyes. he screws his own shut.

“fuck, y/n.” his hand tightens around your hair and he thrusts his hips once, prompting you to pull off of him and wipe your mouth. you can tell he’s close, and you want this to be good for him. spencer is distraught, to say the least, at the loss of contact. he begins to plead, “wait, shit, no, plea—”

“fuck my mouth.” you cut him off. without waiting for an answer, you sit back on your heels with a bounce and open your mouth for him.

he groans. “you’re going to kill me, baby.” you whimper at the pet name and make a mental note to bring it up later. he moves closer to you, guiding his cock into your mouth. he’s close, too close to even consider going easy on you. his hips move quickly, thrusting in and out of your mouth, punctuated by your gags. he’s feral, chasing his orgasm desperately until he finally reaches his high, moaning your name loudly. you swallow all of his release, pulling off of him and sticking your tongue out for approval. wordlessly, he gets down on his knees to meet your height. before you can ask him what he’s doing, he grabs your face and pulls you into a passionate kiss. you moan against his mouth, but the kiss is over before you know it.

“i love you,” he says sincerely, and you shake your head in disbelief.

“i cannot believe i am saying this to you, spencer reid, but i love you too, baby.” you say the word “baby” with a joking tone, clearly mocking his use of it earlier.

he smiles, all teeth, and says, “i knew you would make fun of me for that! as soon as i said it.”

you shake your head with a smile. “no, i’m not making fun of you, love. i liked it. use it more.”

“‘love’?”

“would you prefer ‘hate’?”

“god, no, not again,” he says, scooping you up into his arms and peppering kisses all over your face and hair. “never again.”

[wtfevenismypage]

Observer Not Profiler PT.3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You’re similar to a profiler, but you can tell almost anything about a person just from a single glance. What they had for dinner, if they took a bath or shower, their name, favorite color, if they lie, even if they’re good in bed. You’ve been running from the government ever since you got caught hacking into their systems and since then you have been diagnosed with Extreme anxiety, anxious tics, and paranoia. But now the BAU need you’re help in Identifying killers.

Warnings: maybe a curse word or two, mentions of death, anxious/nervous ticking, tic attacks

A/N: Hey all! Here’s part 3! Remember that requests are open! So is the taglist, however I may be closing the taglist in a few weeks! thank you for reading!

You never knew you were scared of being on private jets until Dr. Spencer Reid rolled along.

“Statistically, Private jets crash more so than commercial planes do. The rate is commonly expressed as the number of accidents per 100,000 flight hours. The accident and fatal-accident rates declined again in 2015. In fact, the fatal-accident rate fell below one to 0.84, meaning there was less than one fatal crash per 100,000 flight hours.”

You think he was trying to make you feel better, but it only made you even more terrified.

“I would like to join the Bureau!”

Emily smiles happily, she knew that getting to know you would be a blast, and your people reading skills would come in major handy.

“That’s wonderful!”

Garcia yells out before wrapping her arms around you, it makes you freeze at first, but the hesitation wears off and you hug her back before shaking hands with everyone else.

When you shake Dr. Reid’s hand, you linger for a second, barely a second, before shaking hands with Hotch.

“This is going to be difficult, you’ll need training.”

You nod, shaking his calloused hand firmly.

“Of course sir, I’m willing to go through all of the training in the world for this.”

He smiles, but barely, only noticeable if you were looking (which you are) and you feel ecstatic at the small gesture. 

“Well, we have a jet to catch, so let’s hurry up. wheel’s up in thirty.”

The first few weeks of training were intense, you were physically trained by Morgan, he got you into shape and gifted you with a subtle six pack that you could see if you squinted hard enough. 

Hotch trained you to handle a gun, which you kind of sucked at. Every time you shot it, you jumped five feet in the air and had a mini panic attack, which Hotch had to help you out with.

Emily, Rossi, and JJ made you into a pretty damn good interrogator, which made you smile every time they complimented you.

You were shocked when you learned that you actually did need lessons in profiling, you needed to learn certain behaviors at crime scenes when you couldn’t see the unsub. Reid helped you in that regard. He also told you all sorts of fun facts, which you happily listened to, you loved learning new things and you would even insist upon hearing the facts sometimes.

You and Penelope had races against each other to see who could get into what faster, so far you two were tied.

Today is the day though, your first day as an official member of the team. Surprisingly, you still couldn’t say the word profiler without spiraling, and you’ve been having anxious tic attacks all night and all morning.

As you walk into the doors to the big office in the early early morning, your wrists slam together twice, making you wince and rub them, feeling the bruises from last night scream in rage.

“I’ve gotta learn to stop that...”

You realize you’re the first in the office, so you just take a quick seat to try and ground yourself, but it instead spirals into a tic attack as you take in what’s finally happening after all of these long and torturous years. 

“Y/L/N. You alright?”

You turn to the cold voice, seeing Hotch standing at the top of the stairs. You thought you were alone, you hoped you were, but if anyone was going to be at the office, you weren’t surprised it was Hotch.

“Oh, sorry sir, I’m just having first day nerves! I feel like I’m back in middle school...”

He flashes you an understanding half-smile, walking up to you and patting your shoulder.

“Don’t worry too much, everyone here is already obsessed with you, you’ll fit right in.”

You smile, trying to act like you were okay,but when your fist harshly collides with the side of your head, you sigh and clutch the now bruised spot.

“Well, the others should be here soon, your desk is right there, next to Reid’s.”

You couldn’t stop the pink heat that bum-rushed it’s way onto your cheeks, trying to avoid Hotch seeing by moving to your new desk an sitting down, subconsciously clapping your palm against the desk.

“Wowie. I’m all official and everything huh?”

You smirk before the door clicks open, people beginning to enter the once-empty office space and making your nerves go through the roof once again.

That is, until Derek and Reid walk in with Garcia chatting about something random with Emily laughing at her.

“Hey Y/L/N! How’s the day so far?”

Derek asks, sitting on your desk. You immediately swat him off with a fake pout painted across your lips.

“Hey, I just got this space, I’ll be d-damned if I let some-some sweaty man sit on it.”

They didn’t miss your nervous stuttering, but in the short time the team had known you, they knew you hated when your tics were the center of attention, so they simply gave sad smiles and moved on.

“We have a new case, Y/L/N, I’ll give you a moment to adjust, round table in ten.”

Hotch walks away, back to his office before Garcia plops down on your desk. Derek notices how you don’t shoo her off and throws a whole fit.

“So you kick me off but not Penelope?”

“Is Garcia a-a sweaty m-man? I don-don’t think so!”

You all laugh before they sit down, Reid sitting next to you and logging into his computer before setting his stuff down.

“You ready for your first case?”

Reid asks, you shrug in response, a nervous smile plastered on your face.

“I g-guess we’ll find-find out.”

Your wrists slam together again, making you hiss in pain a bit, Reid looks concerned and takes one of your wrists in his hand, gently brushing one of his long, slender fingers over your bruised nerves.

“Well a better question, are these going to heal correctly?”

He asked with a sudden seriousness that you didn’t particularly enjoy. 

“Well I don’t know Mr. Genius, why don’t you tell me?”

He looks up at your sarcastic words and smiles a bit, cheeks being brushed with a bit of red as he answers.

“Well they won’t heal properly with your tics, if anything they could get worse, the veins in your wrists will actually get really damaged and it could affect your entire nervous system, you might want to get it-”

“Spencer, as much as I love listening to your rants, and I do, I don’t love listening to the ones about my health being in danger.”

He smiles and discontinues the topic, letting you take your wrists out of his gentle grip and returning to your computer.

“Alright everyone, let’s get to the round table.”

-

-

-

-

-

Throughout the entire case, you stick close with Reid, he made you feel safer than the others somehow. He didn’t say anything about you being with him the entire time, he just accepted the helpful points you gave him. 

One night, you two were up all night trying to find a connection, laying out on top of a desk, listening to Mozart (he insisted) and trying to make a connection between the victims.

You had gotten so excited when you finally made a connection you started jumping up and down with Spencer, holding his hands happily as he joined your silly theatrics.

He seemed to be the only person that can relax your anxiety, even just standing around him helped slow your tics. You didn’t know why he relaxed you, he just did. 

On the jet back to the BAU, the two of you shared earbuds to listen to classical music, you had left your headphones back in Oregon so Spencer offered his left earbud.

Even back at the offices when you were working with Penelope, he brought you green tea, telling you it would still keep you awake but it wouldn’t make you as jittery or paranoid as coffee would.

As soon as he left, Garcia started looking at you weird, giving you googly eyes.

“What?”

“You like him don’t you!?”

Your jaw drops, eyebrows furrowing down, your cheeks get all rosy. No way! You didn’t like him like that, you just enjoyed his company.

“No I don’t! You’re finally going crazy huh?”

“You totally do! You’re getting all blushy and everything!”

“I don’t like him like that! I’ve never liked anyone like that, why would it start now huh? It wouldn’t. I don’t like him.”

She gives you a doubtful look, but drops it, letting you spin around to another computer while sipping on your freshly hot green tea.

The next day, you take the elevator up with Spencer, Derek, and JJ, JJ and Derek were talking about some show, while you listened to Spencer ramble about how unrealistic the show was.

“But Spencer, Dr. Who isn’t very realistic, but you still love it don’t you?”

“Well yeah, but I’m immediately biased to Dr. Who for my love of it, with any other movie or show, I don’t hesitate to point out faults.”

You chuckle at that, Spencer’s passion for Dr. Who was unmatched for anyone else’s love for any show. It’s insane. 

“Okay before pretty boy goes on about Dr. Who for hours, let’s escape.”

The doors open, allowing you and the other team members to walk in. Your desk was still fairly empty, not even a plant there to accompany your computer, you were still holding onto your runaway life, whether you admit it or not.

“Y/L/N, I need to talk to you. My office now.”

“What was that about?”

Panic bubbles to your chest, Hotch’s tone was too assertive, too aggresive. It was scary.

“I don’t know...”

Taglist: 

@imsuperawkward @ithinkilovetruecrimetoomuch @l0ve-0f-my-life @hopebaker @thatonezesty13 @nightlygiggless @aberrant-annie @holybatflapexpert @spencerreidisbootiful @april-14-blog @jackryan-plz @ajwantsapancake @lightswriting @emilouu @yourmisosoup @lizziebritish @101donuts @rainsong01 @pretty-boy-genius @squirrellover1967 @gublerstyles @delievia @boxofsparklingmuses @annestine 

[softtransbf]

Mister Nice Guy, part 1

Summary: You’re new to the BAU and get along well with everyone, almost. You can’t figure out why the infuriatingly handsome Dr. Spencer Reid seems to hate you so much.

Word Count: 2222

Reader: Trans man, he/him pronouns, no physical description.

Warnings: Alcohol, brief description of a case and therefore murder. Nothing graphic.

(Part two)

~~~~~~~~~~

It was your first day at the BAU, and you were so excited. It took all of your willpower not to skip from the elevator to your new boss' office. You definitely caught a sideways glance from an incredibly handsome man with very expressive eyebrows, but you didn't let it concern you; you'd worked too damn hard for too damn long to let anyone bring you down today. You got to the door and knocked sharply. 

"Agent L/N, please, come in," came a voice from inside the room. You took a deep breath and walked through the door.

You'd heard stories about Aaron Hotchner and the BAU- everyone had. Most people only heard the good parts- the heroic tales, the happy endings. But you liked to be prepared, to know the truth of what you were going after, so you'd also paid attention to the quieter whispers. The imposing boss who never smiles, the weird and maybe-pseudo-sexual relationship between the exuberant tech analyst and one of the profilers, the betting pool on whether or not the two female profilers were secretly gay for each other, true crime writer extraordinaire and profiling legend David Rossi leaving retirement to mostly be snarky, and the young agent with multiple doctorates who is smarter than seems humanly possible. You would never admit it, but you were particularly eager to meet the genius. He guest lectured once in your friend's linguistics class your last semester before graduating, and xe wouldn't shut up about him for an entire week. When you told xem that your transfer was approved, xe begged for "a full rundown on what he's like up close and personal" after your first case. But first, you needed to meet with SSA Hotchner.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. 

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." You thanked your lucky star that your voice didn't shake.

"It's a pleasure to have you. I heard nothing but the best about you from your previous supervisor. Officially, all the paperwork has gone through for your transfer, but I would like to ask a couple of questions before we get started." 

"Of course, sir. What would you like to know?" One corner of his mouth ticked up slightly for a fraction of a second, and you counted that as a major victory.

"First and foremost, why are you interested in the BAU?" You relaxed slightly; you'd prepared for this question.

"Human behavior is nothing short of fascinating. Everyone is shaped by a unique set of experiences, but at the end of the day, we all behave in documented patterns. Everything matters, because it shapes who we are, but also nothing does, because we all end up in one of a finite number of 'shapes', so to speak. No one is the same, but we all exhibit set behavioral patterns. No matter what someone's gone through, at the end of the day, they are still understandable and predictable. I find that absolutely fascinating, and the work that the BAU does with that is incredible. I want to be a part of it, and I have the skill and drive to do so. After all, the BAU essentially wrote the handbook for Crisis Negotiation."

"That is a very interesting perspective, agent." His face was neutral, but you detected approval in his tone. "I only had one other matter to bring up- I see two different first names in your paperwork, and two of your references refer to you with different pronouns. Which name do you prefer, and what are your pronouns?"

You were floored; you'd never had a supervisor so casually look past paperwork outing you. "Y/N, sir, and he/him/his."

"Wonderful. Well, Y/N, welcome to the BAU. Let's go meet the team, shall we?" You nodded and followed him out his door into the meeting room, where the rest of the team was assembled.

"Everyone, this is Special Agent Y/N L/N. He has just transferred from Crisis Negotiation."

"Oh! New guy! Hi hi hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, just call me Penelope, and I do all the tech-y, research-y stuff." She made her way across the room to you as she spoke, talking with her hands.

"Pleasure to meet you, Penelope! I love the look you're rocking, by the way. Those shoes in particular are magnificent." You knew you were being the gay sterotype that you'd spent your career trying to avoid, but shoes that good could not go uncomplimented.

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" she said to you before stage-whispering to the rest of the team, "I like him! Let's keep him." The team laughed, and you blushed. It seemed that Hotchner had wordlessly passed on the duties of making the introductions to her, because she pointed to the agent closest to her, handsome-guy-with-the-eyebrows from earlier, and continued on. 

"Okay, so, this is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, but we all call her JJ, David Rossi, and Dr Spencer Reid." They all nodded, smiled, and/or waved slightly when they were introduced, with the exception of Dr Reid, who looked almost like he was looking at a puzzle. You chalked the feeling in your gut it gave you to first-day nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, and I look forward to getting to know you all better as time goes on." You were addressing everyone, but something about the way Dr. Reid was staring at you made it difficult to look away from him for too long.

"Wonderful! Now, as much as I wish we could all chit-chat and get to know Y/N better, we do have a case. Last night, a body was found in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park."

The case was interesting, twin injustice collectors, one more mission oriented, the other interested almost entirely on experimenting with different forms of torture on the victims. The former, over the weeks between kills, had started dating one of the local detectives, neither of them knowing of the other's involvement in the case. You were there when that information came to light at the killer's arrest, and you were able to diffuse the situation, ensuring that no one was harmed.

On the flight back, Prentiss insisted on the whole team going out for drinks to welcome you to the team. Hotchner declined, because he needed to get back to Jack, and Rossi said he had "plans with Tony Bennett", but everyone else agreed, mostly enthusiastically. It took significant persuasion from JJ to get Reid to agree to go out with you all. For the whole case, he was abrupt and distant with you, despite your best efforts. You knew it was silly, but you really wanted your coworkers to like you, so you decided you were going to do your absolute best to get him to like you by the end of the night.

-

"Hey, doc, first round's on me. What'll it be?" You'd noticed during the case that he shrugged off all of your attempts to start a conversation, but you figured that even he wouldn't ignore you under these circumstances.

"Uh, white wine would be great, thanks."

"White wine? At a dive bar? Does this bar even have white wine?" You'd intended to be charming, but, seriously, white wine? Who was this guy?

He opened his mouth, clearly indignant, but he was interrupted by Morgan chuckling from behind you both.

"That's why we go to this dump, newbie. It's the only bar in the area that serves white wine, which is all Pretty Boy here drinks." He winked at you and playfully elbowed Reid in the ribs.

You threw your hands up in mock surrender and chuckled. "Okay, okay, white wine for the good doctor it is. What's your poison? I'm sure word's gotten around that the first round is on me."

"You know, I might have heard something about that, and I most definitely wouldn't say no to a dirty martini." He winked at you, and your chuckle turned into full-on laughter.

You got the bartender's attention and ordered their drinks and a Jack and Coke for yourself. "It's a damn shame you're straight, Derek. Truly a crime against queer men everywhere, although I'm not so proud I can't admit that I'm a bit glad you're not competition."

"Wait wait wait, how do you know I don't like a little meat on the side?"

"So, sidestepping the fact that not all men have penises and some women do, you are so hetero that it's almost painful. Look around; men of all shapes and sizes outnumber women 2 to 1 at least. But you've spent the whole night making eyes at those women over there." You pointed to a table on the other side of the room. "Plus, I may or may not have received a very detailed string of texts from Penelope that essentially amounted to a crash course on all of y'all. I get a feeling that she might like me a little bit."

"My bad on the meat comment- I'll definitely fix that. And speaking of Penelope being a font of information, she's been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about you. What's your big secret, new guy?"

You raised an eyebrow and sipped your drink. "All you need to know is that Hotch, who strikes me as even more protective of this team than he lets on, which is really saying something, knows, and he cares less than any brass I've ever met. And I know for a fact that if Penelope thought it was concerning, she'd have at least voiced some suspicions about me, if not told you outright. I'm not ashamed of it, it's just none of y'alls business. Anyway, the blonde from the table you were eyeing earlier is coming over to see if we've been flirting this whole time so she knows whether to flirt with you or gush about how she's always wanted a Gay Best Friend oh my god. If I'm still here, it'll be both, and I'm allergic to that particular brand of cishet nonsense. Have fun, good-lookin'." You chuckled and patted him on the shoulder as you left, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Reid roll his eyes, down his drink, and walk in the other direction. What is his deal? Whatever. I'm not about to let him wet blanket all over tonight. You took out your phone and sent out a couple of quick texts.

[To: Penelope]: Thank you for not outing me. It means the world to me. Let's get brunch sometime?

[To: Nerd <3]: you sure Reid seemed pleasant when he lectured? that has Not been my experience with him so far. you were right about him being Cute cute, though, damn. a Gay could get lost in those big brown eyes, and in different circumstances I'd climb him like a tree. shame he's Like That lmao

Looking up from your phone, you saw Emily and JJ nearby, so you went over to join them. 

"Oh em gee Y/N you're gay? I had, like, no idea! We should, like, totally get brunch and then go shopping! This is gonna be so much fun; I've always wanted a gay best friend!" You rolled your eyes and laughed at Emily's terrible Valley Girl accent. "Unfortunately, I did not spend my time in the closet learning anything about clothes. I only dress halfway decently for work because my friend dragged me to the mall and updated my wardrobe when I applied for this position. It's all xir doing."

"Well, xe has excellent taste." You mentally filed away JJ's effortless use of neopronouns.

"I'll be sure to let xem know! I'm so down for brunch, though." You checked your phone. "Looks like Garcia is too!"

"Damn, you work fast. You'll fit right in here," Emily laughed.

"Honestly, I'm a little bit blown away by how awesome and welcoming you all are. Well, mostly. Is Spencer like this with every new person, or did I somehow do something to offend him?" Emily and JJ shared a look you couldn't quite read before JJ answered.

"Spencer…" she hesitated, "He's going through something right now. I'm sure he'll figure it out soon, and things will smooth out." 

So you waited. Weeks passed, and you fit in well with the team. You ended up getting close to Derek and Penelope in particular, and you kept trying to make nice with Spencer. Weeks of cold shoulder and as few words as possible to you while being his normal, verbose self with everyone else. So, three weeks into your new job, on a night out with Derek and Penelope you made a decision.

"Look. It's been weeks, and the guy still won't say more than 5 words to me. I'm done trying to… I don't know what I was even trying to do," you slurred, you’d probably had one drink too many. "Make a friend, maybe? I don't even know. But I'm done. He wants to give taciturn bordering on rude? Then that's what he'll receive. Let's see how Pretty Boy likes a taste of his own medicine. No more Mister Nice Guy." You wouldn't remember the look they shared until much later.

And so, your silent war with Spencer truly began.

[moon-light-jukebox]

“All you have to do is ask” Chapter 8 - [Reid x Reader]

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: After their weekend together, Reader and Dr. Reid have very different ideas on what the next step is. But all of that will have to wait because there’s a serial arsonist in D.C. who has been choosing victims that appear too random. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x (Female) Reader

Rating: Mature

Category: Angst. Just all the angst. There is a moment of smut...but it’s angsty smut. 

Content Warnings: The usual criminal minds talk of m*rder and mayhem. Mentioned of drug addiction. Vaginal penetration. Unprotected sex. And there is a character that gets seriously injured, but is ultimately fine. 

Word Count:  6.6k for Chapter 8 

A/n: There is a quote by Jane Austen that says, “All my characters shall have, after a bit of trouble, all that they desire.” That’s my philosophy on writing. I know this isn’t what everyone signed up for when they started reading a sub!Spencer fic. This my hurt you heart, but I promise you the part of Chapter 9 that mends it is already written. If you want to wait to read this until Chapter 9 comes out to read this, I understand. The earliest it will be out is tomorrow, the latest is Friday. 

-- Chapter 8 – “Because I love you” --

Spencer had been reluctant for me to go home last night, but eventually relented when I pointed out that I couldn’t very well show up to work in what I was wearing when I left yesterday. He had kissed me so softly before I left that it made me ache. Everything felt so different, but everything was the same.

The next morning, I was getting ready when I heard my phone ding with a text message. I smiled when I saw Spencer’s name.

“Open your door.”

Not a second later I heard a knock on my door. My eyebrows drew together as I crossed the living room, throwing the door open to see a very chipper Dr. Spencer Reid standing on the other side.

“Hi,” he said softly, smiling at me.

“Hi?” I laughed; I really couldn’t help it. “What are you doing here, Doc?”

“I brought you this.” I noticed the cups in his hand then, both from the coffee shop I showed him yesterday. “Even though it felt wrong to order it,” he teased.

“Oh, shut up,” I said, taking my iced coffee from him before I waved him into my apartment. Iced coffee was an abomination to my Dr. Reid. “You only hate it because you haven’t tried it.”

He moved to sit on my couch, taking a sip of his own drink. “And I will continue to hate it without having tried it.”

“Brat,” I muttered, moving to stand in front of him. I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but it’s 6:45 in the morning. You were going to see me in, what, an hour anyway?” How early did he have to get up to do this?

His bottom lip stuck out in a slight pout. “Are you upset that I came by?”

My nervous, darling boy. “Never, Doc.” I turned to go back into my room to finish getting ready.

“I also thought we should talk about what we’re going to do today,” he called from the living room.

Huh? “What do you mean?” I picked out a pair of ankle boots from my closet that would match with my outfit. “Do we have a new case?”

“Probably,” he said, scaring the shit out of me. I didn’t realize he’d gotten up and come into my bedroom.

“Jesus, Spencer,” I laughed, my hand over my heart. “Warn a girl next time, alright?” I finished putting on my shoes, checking my hair and makeup in the mirror a final time before I turned to walk back into the living room. “So, we need to talk about the fact that we ‘probably’ have a case?”

“No,” he said, reaching out to grab my elbow, stilling my movements. “I wanted to talk about us. And what we’re going to tell the team.”

Oh no. “Tell the team…about what?” I hedged.

Spencer's eyebrows came together in confusion. "…About us?”

“…Why would we tell the team?” My question sounded hollow in my own ears.

My darling, darling boy looked confused for a second. “Well, its protocol. We’re on the same team. And…” he swallowed thickly. “I-I thought that…”

I felt my heart splinter into a million pieces. "Spencer," I began quietly. "I don't know if we…I'm not sure if that’s the best idea.”

“What do you mean?” He looked so crestfallen, so fucking hurt that I could barely breathe. "I thought after last weekend that..." he trailed off. He looked so young in that moment like he really was a small boy afraid that someone he cared about would leave him. "I thought you wanted to be with me."

His sadness was a punch to my gut. “Spencer,” I said gently. “It is not that. It’s not that at all.” I took a step towards him, reaching out to place my hand on his arm. “I just…you’ve never been involved in this sort of relationship before. There are a lot of high emotions that come with this-“

“What are you saying?” he interrupted, his voice hard.

“I’m saying that we need to give this time before you make any sort of decision about us other than our established BDSM relationship.” He jerked his arm away from me. Don’t do this to me, baby. "Spence, plenty of people have a relationship within a dom/sub relationship. I have! It can work. But…” I trailed off.

“But what, y/n?” His eyes were cold. They looked so wrong. My boy was supposed to have warm amber eyes. Not these flat brown eyes that made my heart feel hollow.

“I’m saying that it’s only been one weekend. And I need you to be sure. We need to be sure about each other.”

“So, you aren’t sure?” He took a step towards me, crowding my space. “You seemed pretty fucking sure last night.” Spencer looked up at the ceiling, running his hand through his hair. “How can you stand here and say you aren’t sure after what we did together last night?!”

Tears pricked in the corners of my eyes. “It was just sex, Spencer.” Liar.

He backed away from me, a look of disgust on his face. “I’ve asked you once before not to lie to me, y/n. You know that what we did last night was a whole lot more than ‘just sex’ or ‘fucking.’ You can lie to yourself about it, but don’t you dare fucking lie to me!”

“Then what was it, Spencer?” My anger matched his own, my hands were shaking so hard I had to ball them into fists at my sides.

Spencer turned then, taking several steps until he was in front of me again. His hand moved up to the left side of my face; he ran his thumb over the cupid’s bow of my mouth. “You know what it was, y/n.” His head tilted down while his thumb ran over my bottom lip. “I made love to you last night. You’re hiding, and I don’t understand why. But please. You promised you wouldn’t regret it. Do you?” His eyes searched my face frantically.  

“Not for an instant, Spencer.” My eyes were starting to brim over with emotion.

“Then don’t push me away, baby. I know you’re scared.” He moved to close the few inches that separated us, his lips brushing over mine softly, sending a tingle down my entire body.

“I’m not pushing you away,” I said against his mouth. “I just…Can we give it time?” He pulled back from me, his hand dropping from my face, leaving me cold. “Spencer, you’ve never done this before, you went through a lot of high emotions this weekend… that might have affected how you think you’re feeling.”

Spencer gave a jerk, abruptly pulling completely away from me. “I know exactly how I fucking feel.” His words were low and harsh. Without looking back at me he stormed out of my apartment.  

The tears didn’t come until I saw he had left his coffee cup behind.

--

I was only 15 minutes late for work, and I think I had fixed my face enough so that it didn't look like I had been crying. The team was already in the conference room when I arrived. I darted inside, mumbling my apologies.

“Did you sleep in,” Morgan teased from beside me.

I just shot him an obviously fake glare. “Maybe.”

That seemed to ease the tension in the room…except the tension that was coming from the man sitting in between JJ and Morgan, the man refusing to look at me.

My heart broke more every single second he ignored me. But this is what I deserve.

Garcia walked into the room then, iPads and casefiles in hand. “Welcome back, crimefighters. We’re coming in hot today but luckily we’re staying close to home!” She passed out the iPads to all of us, save my boy who got a paper file, with a huge smile on her face. “There’s a serial arsonist right here in D.C.!”

JJ laughed. “That’s a weird thing to sound happy about, Penelope.”

“And we have a problem,” Hotch said, walking into the room and shutting the door.

“Figures,” Morgan muttered. “We get a weekend off and come back to a problem.”

Garcia smiled at him before turning to Hotch. “A problem with what, Sir? I didn’t see any problems in the files. Other than murder…and destruction of property…Just general icky-ness.”

Hotch sighed, gesturing for her to put the photos on the monitor. "Over the past month, there have been three fires in Dupont Circle. So far 6 people have died. He seems to be targeting married couples with no children or pets."

“It’s not uncommon for arsonists to avoid places with pets,” Morgan mused.

“What is uncommon is how random the victims are. Garcia?” Hotch motioned for her to go on.

"Right, well D.C. Police didn't even realize the fires were connected at first. In the first two fires, they initially couldn't find the origin point where the fire started."

“What?” I asked. “How can the unsub be hiding that?”

“People can hide lots of things.” That comment came from my boy. I looked over at him, but he still refused to meet my eyes.

“That they can, Doc.”  

“That’s all the information we have Sir,” Penelope said to Hotch. “I’m not sure what the problem is.”

"The victims are too random, which is why I wanted to look them over before we officially accepted the case. I think I've found his pattern. Garcia," he said, shifting his focus to her. "Can you cross-reference the names of all the victims against BAU cases?"

As Garcia sat down and started typing Morgan turned to our unit chief. “What are you thinking here, Hotch?”

“I recognized one of the victims of the second fire. We questioned him years ago. Gideon and I were the ones that brought him in. There was a string of rapes in the Washington Highlands area.” Hotch crossed his arms over his chest. “We thought he looked good for it, but he had a solid alibi. His wife said she with him all night. The case was never solved.”

“Oh my god,” Garcia gasped out, her eyes wide. “We’ve brought all three male victims in for questioning on different cases over the years.”

“And there’s our problem. You’d either have to be a member of D.C. police or someone in the Bureau to know that they had been questioned.”

Fuck me running. “So, we have a serial arsonist that might be able to know every move we make as we make it?”

This day just keeps getting better and better.

--

After hours of speaking with the D.C. fire departments and working with local police, Derek and Prentiss made a discovery when they examined the crime scenes.

“I’m telling you Hotch," Morgan's voice rang out from the phone held in our unit chief's hand. "The scene has been tampered with. The reason they had a hard time finding the ignition point is because someone went to a hell of a lot of trouble to cover it up after the fact."

“That confirms our theory that the unsub is a member of law enforcement or the fire department,” Spencer chimed in.

Rossi came over to the table, his hands in his pockets, a worried look on his lined face. "Being a member of the fire department fits better if you're trying to hide the ignition point," he began. "But a firefighter wouldn't have access to the files on who was questioned.

Derek made a noise of agreement. “I think we might be looking at a team.”

“That would make sense,” I said, looking up from the files on the round table. “No firefighter showed up at all 3 fires. We know he’s organized, but arsonists are compulsive. He would have to be nearby to watch it all burn.”

“You think maybe an off-duty cop or firefighter was in the crowd,” Spencer said, finally, finally, finally meeting my eyes for the first time that day. His eyes were lit with excitement over figuring a puzzle out. “No one would notice a person like that being at all 3 fires. And nobody would notice if a firefighter or cop asked to come take a look once the fire was out.”  

I nodded. “Correct again, Doc.”

His gaze shuttered at that, his jaw locking, then he turned his back to me.

“We’re gonna have to re-interview all the firefighters and D.C. police,” Hotch said with a sigh. “He’s one of them.”

“I can ask Will if he’ll come in. A lot of the cops in his prescient have also worked Dupont Circle in the past. Maybe he can help us narrow it down,” JJ chimed in.

Hotch nodded. “Tomorrow. We all need to go home tonight. D.C. police are on high alert. We’re not going to catch him tonight. Get some rest.”

With that dismissal, the team disbanded from the conference room.

I tried to catch him, but my boy was gone before I even got back to my desk.

--

“Hey, Spence. It’s me again. I…I know that you probably don’t want to talk to me. You also probably don’t want me leaving you voicemails. You hate voicemails. But…I’m just worried about you and I want to know that you’re okay. Please call me back.”

"Hey, Doc. I'm just checking on you again. Please call me back."

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me. I’m sorry.”

--

The clock above my TV said that it was almost midnight, but I wasn’t aware of any time passing. My eyes were swollen from crying but the rest of my body felt numb. I had been calling and texting Spencer for hours with no reply. I couldn’t believe that he would do this to me…especially after what I told him yesterday.

It’s strange how this weekend already feels like it was years ago. The best two days of my life…gone. Maybe my ex was right...maybe I’m not worth it.

My thoughts were interrupted by a banging on my door that was so loud and so sudden I almost jumped out of my skin.

Having every intention of just ignoring whoever it was, I didn't move to get up. But then the banging got louder.

I quickly scrambled to my gun safe, putting my thumb against the sensor to unlock it. Gun in hand, I moved towards the door. The banging was constant now, and so forceful I was worried my door would fly off the hinges.

I looked through the peephole in my door, my gun gripped in my right hand. I saw him at the same time he spoke. “Y/n,” Spencer called, pounding on my door. “Let me in!”

I put my gun down and had the lock off and the door open in seconds. "Spencer, what in the ever-loving fu-“

My words were cut off because he pushed through the door, entering my apartment without even looking at me. This feels familiar. I turned to face my boy, angry but in a different way than I had seen him before. “What are you doing here, Doc?”

He gave a bitter smile at that. “We’ve been here before. Don’t call me Doc right now.” Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your messages. At first, I was ignoring you, but then I…went somewhere where I couldn’t have my phone.”

His words felt like an ice pick in my heart. “You were ignoring me?” My voice was small. “And…you went…” I couldn’t finish my thought; I just wrapped my arms around my middle.

“Yes, y/n,” he said simply. “I was ignoring your calls. I didn’t…” His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he considered me. “I was afraid of what I’d say…what I’d do.”

“Oh.”

Spencer shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I went to a meeting. Then I went across town and went to another one.”

“Spencer." My voice was a whisper, emotions threatening to overtake me. "I'm so fucking sorry.” I hurt him so much he went to multiple meetings? I did that to him?

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” His tone wasn’t dismissive just…impersonal. “Your actions are your own, how I respond to those actions is all I can control.”

“Did the…did you?”

He pulled both of his lips between his teeth. He knew what I meant. He always knows. “No, y/n, I didn’t.” His tongue tapped against his top lip. “But, I really, really fucking wanted to.”

My entire body went cold. “Spencer, I didn’t mean to-“

"Don't, y/n." His hands left his pockets; he crossed his arms over his chest. "I know. I was in the middle of my second meeting when I realized. I was thinking about the quickest way I could get in touch with my old dealer." I winced at his words. "Because…how was I supposed to live with the fact that you dismissed the most…" I saw his anger rising again as he thought about it. "It was one of the most important fucking moments of my life,y/n!” The voice that was usually so soft was laced with bitterness.

My tears started falling then. “Spencer I never meant to hurt you.” I curled my body more into myself. “I…I don’t know how to fix this.”

"That's when I realized what was happening," he continued like I hadn't spoken. "I remembered the look on your face when I told you that you were all sunshine and kindness. You balked at the idea." His eyes bore into me, laying me bare. "You're trying to protect yourself, and it's a natural instinct. But you're hurting me to do it.”

I saw the moment his anger left his body. His shoulders relaxed, his eyes went glassy and I felt the hurt wash over him. “You have to stop doing this,” he whispered, his voice strained. Each one of the tears that fell from those beautiful brown eyes was a knife in my stomach. “You have to let someone care about you.” Spencer cut the distance between us. He reached for me, his hands come up to hold my face, while his own crumpled. “You have to let me care about you.”

I couldn’t bear to see him cry; I couldn’t live with myself when I was the cause of this wonderful, beautiful man’s pain. I looked straight into his eyes, taking in all the pain I’d caused. “I want to, Doc,” I whispered. “But I don’t know how.”

His mouth crashed against mine. Spencer was desperate in a way I hadn’t felt before; he ripped my shirt from my body while I tugged his shirt free from his pants. His mouth moved down to my neck, sucking harshly while I worked his belt off. I slipped my hand inside of his underwear, palming him. He was already hot and hard, and I ached for him. I’m not sure which one of us pulled the other down to my living room floor, but I felt the cool wood on my back as Spencer settled over me.

His hand came up to brush my hair out of my face. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. The pressure of his hands changed. The desire still burned between us, but it wasn’t fueled by pain and rage. Spencer kissed me like I was the most precious thing he’d ever held. His fingers were soft when they slipped into my panties, finding me already wet for him. There was no smirk on his face when he unfastened his pants or when he pulled mine off.

He held himself against me, not quite inside of me yet. Spencer Reid, my wonderful, darling, nervous boy leaned over me, put his mouth against my neck when he entered me. My back arched and I moaned loudly at the invasion. He peppered kisses from my shoulder, around my neck, until he reached the other side. His mouth moved up my cheek, finally finding my lips while he continued to move inside me.

This felt different than last night. If last night was making love…I don’t know what this could be. I felt like Spencer was inside every part of me, consuming me. He pulled back, looking in my eyes, his thrusts never slowing. “I know you’re not ready to hear it,” he whispered. “But you need to know I feel it. I’ve felt it since the first time you smiled at me, y/n.”

He moved his hand down between our bodies, brushing against my clit. I hadn’t thought I’d be able to cum, but he quickly proved me wrong. I felt my orgasm rising up inside me but even it felt different. It wasn’t frantic or intense, it was slow and powerful…it was perfect, just like my boy was.

Spencer felt when my orgasm started to break. “When you’re ready to hear it, I’ll never stop telling you. I will tell you about how I’ll feel it forever, and how no one has ever felt it the way I do with you.”

I’m not sure if I started crying from the sudden release of the orgasm or from his words, but tears slipped down my cheeks while I held him to me tightly when he found his own pleasure.

“Stay with me,” he whispered against my mouth.

Always.

--

Both of our phones went off at 5 am the following morning.

“Hurry!” Garcia’s first text read. The second made my stomach drop. “There was another fire!”

We arrived on the scene as quickly as we could. I didn't live very far from Spencer, so it wasn't that weird for me to swing by his place and "pick him up." In reality, he just needed to change his clothes. His left hand held onto my right as we drove towards the fire that had claimed 2 more lives.

“We have to talk,” he said at last.

“I know.��� Because I did.

“After the case?”

I nodded, bringing our joined hands up so I could press a kiss to the back of his hand.

--

The next two victims were just like the others; a husband who had been questioned in a serial murder investigation by the BAU and the wife that was his alibi. After interviewing everyone again we kept coming up with one name over and over. Edward Gordon was a responding officer at the first and third fires, but several people remember seeing him at fire two. He was on duty for the fourth fire and was already on the scene when the BAU agents showed up.

He had applied to the FBI academy but was denied; that denial didn’t stop him from applying to the D.C. police department. He fit the profile; he had the connections needed to pull it off. We were on our way to his house with a warrant. I was sitting in the passenger seat while Morgan drove; Prentiss and Rossi were in the back. “I don’t like this,” Rossi muttered.

“What’s up?” Derek asked.

"I don't know," the older man said. "It just feels…gift wrapped." He turned to look at Emily. "It wasn't until the firefighter you talked to remembered him that anyone else remembered him.”

“Right,” Emily said, consulting her notes. “Jeff Sawyers. He’s 35, married, and well-liked by everyone. We ruled him out.”

Rossi shook his head. “Everyone we talked to said that Gordon was a loner, he didn’t stick out. No one noticed him. So why did Sawyers?”

“Maybe he felt something? Like when the hairs on the back of your neck stand up?” Morgan offered.

“Well,” Rossi said with a sigh, sitting back. “I don’t know about you guys, but the hairs on the back of my neck are already up.”

Mine are too.

--

Arresting Edward Gordon was too easy. He didn’t put up much of a fight, which made me more nervous.

“Guys,” Spencer called while Morgan loaded Gordon into a suburban. “This doesn’t feel right.”

Hotch nodded. “Something is off. Stay sharp, we need to clear the area.”

We broke off into teams to do another sweep of Gordon’s house. I was with Hotch in the basement, Rossi and Reid took the main floor, and JJ and Prentiss to the top.

“There’s nothing,” I said when we all met again on the front porch. “But something feels wrong.”

Emily nodded. “Maybe we should canvas surrounding houses?”

“Not a bad idea,” Rossi mused. “Maybe somebody saw something…or maybe somebody is actually someone.”

“I’ll go tell Morgan,” my boy said, turning to head for the car parked on the side of the road.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move in the upstairs window of the house directly across the street. I saw it a moment before everyone else; I was already sprinting towards Reid before the others had a chance to react.

Not him, no not him, I begged. I wasn’t even sure who I was begging. Please not him, please.

Spencer heard the others shout his name; my jaw was locked together in panic, unable to speak. I slammed into him hard, knocking him out of the way just in time.

I felt fire rip through my shoulder, I heard bullets ring out behind me. I didn't pay attention to any of it though.

Why is he crying? I thought my heart sinking into misery. Please don’t cry, my darling boy. I can’t stand it.

His hands were so warm when he cupped my face. These circumstances were different from the last time he held me like this, but my heart squeezed just the same.

“Why,” his voice was strangled. “Why would you do that?”

Blackness edged around my vision. I wanted to make some funny quip to try to make him smile, but I couldn’t draw in enough air. So, I settled for the simplest and truest thing I could say.

“Because I love you.”

-- Spencer’s POV –

In times when I felt overwhelmed, I always counted things. It was a sort of compulsion that started when I was a child. When my parents would fight, I’d count the number of specks in each tile on the kitchen floor. I’d count the number of seconds between each shout. When Tobias had me all those years ago, I counted the boards around the cabin.

I couldn’t focus on anything long enough to count now.

Derek was to my right; Emily was to my left. Hotch was across the room sitting with his head in his hands. Rossi stood near JJ, his arm around her.

It’s not right, I thought. None of this is right because she’s not here. She has to be here.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to…how am I supposed to breathe without her?

“How long?” Morgan’s voice broke through the silence. I didn’t need to ask what he meant.

“37 days, 5 hours, 17 minutes, and 45 seconds. Since the case in Nebraska.”

I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye. Emily raised her hand to place it on my shoulder. Usually, their touches made my skin hurt. I couldn't handle the constant pressure and sometimes they would rub patterns on my skin meant to bring me comfort but all it did was set my teeth on edge. Nobody had ever understood that.

But she did. She knew how to touch me without me telling her. She always checked in with me during everything. I had never felt safer in my entire life than I did in her arms.

And she’s not here.

Penelope burst into the room a moment later. “What happened?” Her big eyes were swimming in tears behind her glasses. Morgan stood and went to her, wrapping her in his arms.

Bitterness rose up in my throat. What if when she was dying was my last chance to hold her? What if all this was my fault? Would she have jumped in front of a bullet for another team member? Logically, I knew she would have. That’s just who y/n is…but I couldn’t shake this feeling that this wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t-

My thoughts went blank when another man walked into the room; he had on blue scrubs and a mask hanging around his neck. He’s the doctor. I shot to my feet, halfway across the room before the others even realized someone else had entered.

“You’re all here for Y/l/n?” he asked, his eyes darting around.

I opened my mouth to speak but no sound came out; I was frozen. My heart was currently in a paradox. She was my very own Schrödinger’s cat. She was both alive and dead and somehow neither at the same time. I now understood that experiment better than I ever had before.

I couldn’t ask the doctor because what if she was gone? What if I got 37 days, 5 hours, 19 minutes, and 3 seconds to hold her…but I had to go the rest of my life without ever seeing her light again? I had told y/n she was sunshine…but she was so much more. She was the sun itself. Without her in this world, nothing would be there to hold my universe together, leaving everything to spin out into freezing darkness.

What if she’s already gone? What if I haven’t had her the past 24 minutes? 15 minutes?

Hotch spoke for me. “Yes, how is she?”

“The bullet nicked her brachial artery; she lost a lot of blood. Luck you had medics so close by. It was touch and go for a moment, but we were able to repair the damage. She should make a full recovery.”

I felt my entire universe shift; my legs were suddenly unable to hold me. I felt someone grab my shoulders when my knees hit the hard floor. My mind flashed with every moment we had had together. Her kind smiles, the way she cocked her head to the side when she was teasing me, the look on her face when she finally trusted me enough to let me be with her the way I had always wanted.

“Kid,” Rossi’s voice said, I only then realized he was who had grabbed me. “She’s gonna be okay. Y/n is gonna be fine.”

His voice was soft, I could barely hear it over the sound of someone sobbing. It took me a minute longer to realize the sobbing was coming from me.

Yes, she was going to be fine…but for how long? How long did I get her until she had to jump in front of another bullet to save me? How long did I get to have the sun before I did something to make it disappear? I could live in a world where she didn’t love me, but I couldn’t live in a world where she didn’t exist.

“Because I love you," she had said. She jumped in front of a bullet because she loved me. But did she even love me? Or did she just tell me what I needed to hear because she thought she was dying?

I finally understood why she was so afraid of love because I had never loved anything the way I loved her.

My body went cold when I realized what I had to do. Every possible future I imagined ended with her the way she was earlier today, bleeding out because she loved me. I couldn’t be responsible for putting her light out. She’d never forgive me. And none of that mattered if I got to live in a world where she was still breathing. Where I got to love her. Even if she didn’t love me back.

Rossi’s grip tightened around me. “Let’s go see your girl, Spencer.”

My voice was hollow as the gravity of everything fell down around me. “I-I don’t think I can.”

-- Reader POV –

The first thing I became aware of was how goddamn bright it was. My eyes started to flutter open and they immediately shut in a wince. The second was the pain.

“Oh, this is some bullshit,” I muttered, trying to pry my eyes open.

I heard several chuckles at my words. “There she is! Feisty as ever!”

That was Morgan. Why is Morgan here? Where is here? It all started coming back in flashes. The house…the unsub…the fires…the gun pointing out the window. Spencer!

My eyes finally opened all the way. I heard the beeping of machines and I smelt antiseptic. Once my vision came into focus, I saw my team filling the room. JJ was crying and holding Garcia. Derek and Emily were closest to me on either side. But…I didn’t see that curly mop of hair.

“What happened? Is Spencer all right?” My words were frantic as I tried to sit up.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Morgan’s hand pressed against my shoulder, keeping me still. “Reid is fine. And you need to rest.”

He’s fine. He’s fine. I kept repeating that over and over again in my mind. “What happened?” I asked, my throat was dry and scratchy.

“It was a trap,” Hotch said from the end of my bed. “Gordon and Sawyers were working together. We had profiled Gordon to be the dominant member if we were looking at a team, but it was Sawyers who called the shots. He just used Gordon’s rage for his own advantage. Apparently, Sawyers’ sister died in a murder investigation 2 years ago. He blamed the BAU because we were called in but the man he suspected had an alibi. Sawyers was in the house across the street…”

Right. There was a gun…and it was pointed at Spencer. “Did you get him?”

Hotch nodded. “Gordon is in custody. Sawyers is dead.”

“Good,” I mumbled. “If Spencer is okay, where is he?”

There was an awkward pause for a moment before anyone spoke. “Let me go get the Doctor. I’m sure they want to know you’re awake,” JJ said before quickly leaving the room.

“I think he just needs a minute, Kiddo,” Rossi said gently.

“Oh, and don’t think for one goddamn minute you’re gonna be able to weasel out of telling us about you and Reid.” Morgan looked positively giddy. “He said since Nebraska, y/n.” Prentiss shot him a glare, to which Morgan only shrugged.

I sighed, but then quickly realized how much that fucking hurt. “I guess the cat is out of the bag.”

An older man entered the room then. “Hello, Agent y/l/n. I’m Dr. Richardson. I’d like to check you over if I could? And your friends can leave the room.”

Emily brushed her hand over the top of my head. “We’ll be back.”

--

I had a repaired artery, gotten a transfusion, and somehow fractured a rib. Oh, and a new scar near my shoulder. The bullet was through and through, and scars were just scars.

None of that bothered me as much as my boy’s absence. The rest of the team had left hours ago. Garcia promised she’d be back bright and early and that she would be making a schedule of who was going to visit me each day and at what time. I didn’t bother trying to talk her out of it.

I had brought up Spencer a few times, I had asked for my phone to call him…but everyone had always changed the subject or tried to redirect my attention. After everything that had happened, him avoiding me now almost hurt as bad as the bullet wound.

There was a hesitant knock on the door that made my heart jump. I know that knock. Sure enough, the door pushed open to reveal the only person I wanted to see. His hair was messy like he’d been running his hands through it, the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced, and he was in different clothes than he had had on Tuesday morning. But even though I was so happy to see him I just felt something…wrong.

“Hey Doc,” I said softly.

Spencer came to stand at the end of my hospital bed, his eyes flat, his hands gripping the plastic rails. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice was raspy and hollow.

“I’ve been better,” I joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

My boy just sighed. “That was really fucking stupid, y/n.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t going to let him shoot you.”

His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the bed. “So, you let him shoot you? How does that make any fucking sense, y/n?!”

My voice was small, “Because it wouldn’t be you that got hurt. Why are you being like this, Spence?”

He ran a hand over his face, licking his lips before he spoke. “I just feel bad about this because…you were right.”

“I’m right fairly often, Doc. You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

“About my feelings,” he said his eyes were on me, but they weren’t focused. “You were right when you said that they were just a chemical reaction to what happened this weekend. You said they would pass, and you were right.”

I couldn’t breathe. I felt like all the air had been taken out of the room.

Spencer went on. “I’m sorry if I led you on, y/n. I enjoyed our time together, but it’s not something I’d want to pursue long term. I’m embarrassed of how I acted, especially since it gave you the wrong impression.”

“Oh.” My entire body went cold and I felt my heart drop.

“I also think we should end our personal relationship.”

I blinked back tears, he sounded so impersonal. “We can’t even be friends?”

His hands lifted from the bed, his arms crossing over his chest. “We weren’t friends before, y/n.”

I pulled both of my lips between my teeth, taking small breaths so my body wouldn’t hurt more than it needed to. “I appreciate the honesty, Doc. I really do.” I turned my head to the side, unable to look at him any longer. “But this is a weird fucking time to do it.”

“I know,” he said, his tone not changing. “But I think your judgment has been compromised. I don’t think we can have any sort of relationship when it makes you do something so reckless because you think…” He trailed off.

“Because I think what, Reid?” I spat out.

“Because you think I care about you more than I do.”

I scoffed, not caring about the pain. “I didn’t take a bullet for you because I thought you cared about me.” I did it because of how much I cared about you. “You’re a member of the team, I would have done the same for any of them.”

“Then maybe you should reevaluate your place in this team.”

I think it would have hurt less if he just punched me in the bullet wound “Thanks a whole fucking lot, Reid. I’ll do that.”

He dropped his arms and turned to walk out of my room. “I’m glad you’re okay, y/n.”

His hand had just pulled the door open when I called out. “Reid…did I say anything? After I was shot?”

The man that used to be my darling boy turned to look at me, his face was unreadable. "Not that I heard, no." With that, he was gone. He just walked out of my room like he didn't rip me to shreds like he didn’t take my entire heart with him.

My heart jumped with hope when the door opened again, only to plummet when I saw it was just the nurse. “Are you alright, dear?” she asked, coming to fiddle with the machines that monitored my vitals. “Oh, my lord. You’re crying! Are you in a lot of pain?” she didn’t wait for an answer, she just started for the door. “I’ll get your next dose of pain meds, be right back.”

She could do that…but I don’t think this pain will ever go away.

--

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[terrm9]

Shattered

Words count: 5 200

!!! WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH; DEATH; FUNERAL; TRAUMA; ALCOHOL CONSUMING; SUICIDAL THOUGHTS; MENTIONS OF ILLNESS

seriously guys this is very very very dark and angsty, there is no glimpse of anything else.

Author’s note: okay, the angsty fic is here. PLEASE, read the warnings and consider if you want to read it. I would hate to cause some triggering feelings in anyone, so please if you are not sure, DO NOT READ. The story will not be relevant for any other of my fics, it is really just angsty one-shot that I needed to write and will not be mentioned ever again. You won’t miss anything important because my other fics will be pure fluff again - there is a fluffy fic about Ramsey family coming where they are all happy and healthy and very much alive. (for more notes, see the end of the story)

„You are overreacting, babe,“ Chiara chuckled and wrapped herself tighter into the sheets.

„You literally just called me ‚babe‘,“ Ethan rolled his eyes. „I have every reason to be overreacting.“

Chiara laughed – or she tried to laugh, the sound soon turning into painful groans.

„It’s just the flu, Ethan. Really, I am doctor and a capable one, so stop questioning my judgement on my own flu. It’s flu season after all. It sucks but I’ll be fine in no time.“

Ethan was not as sure, not at all. Her strained voice and burning forehead kept his mind on the edge.

„I promise I’ll let you take me to the hospital if I don’t feel better in the morning,“ Chiara added as she noticed the wrinkle of concern between his brows.

„Okay,“ Ethan nodded relucantly and kissed her cheek softly. „Now, let’s try to get some sleep. And wake me up if you need pills or water or anything.“

Nodding, Chiara shut her eyes and allowed herself to hope that the throbbing headache would disappear by the morning.

Switching the lights off, Ethan took Chiara’s sweaty hand into his a put another gentle kiss on her knuckles.

„I love you,“ he whispered into the dark room, not sure if Chiara heard him.

„I love you more,“ she whispered back, a small smile on her lips.

Ethan chuckled, the fact that Chiara couldn’t resist to play the little competition with him even now giving his mind the peace it so much needed to sleep.

Impossible, he thought before letting the sleep overtake him.

˜

The sharp, bright rays of a sun that has risen long time ago made Ethan stir in the bed. He didn’t even check the clock, his hand already reaching for Chiara – she was the first thing on his mind every morning and this one was no exception.

With his eyes still half closed, he put his palm on her forehead and a relief washed over him at the feeling of cold skin under it.

The fever was gone.

The relief lasted mere seconds, however. Mere seconds until the words ‚cold skin‘ echoed in Ethan’s mind again.

Her skin was cold. Not feverish, not warm and not the way it normally was.

It was cold.

Cold.

Ethan sat up in an instant, the last traces of sleep long gone. He turned his head to see Chiara clearly and the terrifying, dreadful knot formed in his stomach.

Chiara looked as if she was sleeping very deeply.

But Ethan knew better. Ethan knew that Chiara has never been a deep sleeper.

„No,“ he whispered as he kneeled next to her and pulled the sheets of her.

She was pale. Her lips had the unnatural shade of purple. She was not in a deep sleep – her chest wasn’t moving up and down with her every breath. It wasn’t moving at all.

There were no breaths.

Ethan slapped her; slapped her really hard.

Chiara didn't move. The skin on her cheek didn't get flushed by the harsh contact with Ethan's palm.

"What the fuck are you doing, Chiara?" Ethan screamed at her while laying her down on the floor, as gently as ever.

But there was a part of his brain that was starting to fathom the truth, the part that knew exactly what Chiara was doing.

And that there was no need to be gentle with her anymore.

His head was spinning. Years of medicine worth nothing with the hands shaking so hard he couldn’t perform a proper CRP.

Ethan grabbed a phone and realized it was Chiara’s the moment his own face looked back at him from her locked screen.

He wanted to throw it across the room, to break it. But then, does it really matter whose phone do you use when you need to call 911?

He dialed the number, put the phone on a speaker and got back to pumping Chiara’s chest, praying to God he stopped believing in long time ago that any force that made Chiara’s heart stop could make it beat again under his hands.

The morning became a bizzare blur of action, fear and emptiness with Ethan dictating his adress to the phone one moment and sprinting to open the door for the paramedics the second, not giving them a chance to ask questions before he was kneeling next to Chiara’s motionless – lifeless – body.

The shock on all of the paramedics‘ and Dr. Stock’s face at the sigh of Dr. Ramsey in his pajama bottoms and trembling hands and Dr. Ray on the ground was evident – after all, they knew both doctors. They worked with them for years.

The young paramedic man – Ethan felt like his name was Eric, but maybe that was a pure lie his mind made up – pushed Ethan gently aside and started to perform a CRP himself, while Dr. Stock – a man Ethan’s age – asked him many questions.

When did you find her? What happened before? Was it a long time before you called us?

But Ethan couldn’t answer. Ethan didn’t know. Was it an hour or a day? What happened? He had no idea what happened. He wished he knew what happened and he also wished he would never have to find out.

Dr. Stock knelt down next to the young paramedic and with a solemn nod gestured him to stop with the CRP.

He checked Chiara’s pulse, he foricbly opened her eyes and observed them, he gave her feet a light tap.

And then he shook his head softly.

The three paramedics – two younger men and one older woman – shared a look and all of them checked their watches at once.

„8:08 AM,“ one of them spoke quietly and raised his eyebrow, a question for the doctor.

„Write that down for now,“ Dr. Stock nodded and stood up. „The autopsy should tell us more.“

The autopsy. 8.08 AM. They way they stopped with the resurrecting. Stopped with trying.

As if there was no point in trying anymore.

Ethan didn’t quite register everything going on around him. He wanted to throw up. He felt like fainting. Screaming. Knocking and throwing fists.

He hadn’t done any of those.

He kept standing on the spot, frozen and unable to move. He didn’t want their words and their actions to make sense.

"Sir - Dr. Ramsey - we are sorry."

The paramedic put a sympathetic hand on Ethan's shoulder, her eyes concerned. Perhaps it was supposed to bring some steadiness into his breaths, however the result was the opposite.

"I don't need your sorry," he shook her hand down and took two steps back.

The two other paramedics along with Dr. Stock wheeled the stretcher with Chiara’s body on it out of the bedroom, throwing one last glance at Ethan's trembling figure.

"Stop looking like that," he was screaming now. "Stop with the sorry and those looks, there's no need for them, there's no need for them."

His voice was cracking and the little part of his brain that wasn't completely coated in denial whispered 'Please tell me there's no need for them'.

"You are taking her to hospital, right? That's good, that's great," he muttered but noticing the exchange of their worried glances, his rage came back.

"Just STOP! Take her to the hospital, make her feel better! Make this okay!"

The tree men left the room, however the woman remained standing next to him.

„Why are you still here?“ Ethan asked.

„We already informed Chief Banerji, Dr. Ramsey. He asked one of us to stay with you until he arrives here.“

Ethan shrugged and turned away before replying.

„There is no need for that. You can go. Or at least leave the room, I am going to get changed.“

The paramedic didn’t look happy about his command but left the room anyway and Ethan opened his closet to choose a shirt for the day.

What a busy morning, he thought. At least Chiara is in the hospital now. I will be better at taking care for her there.

He almost laughed at the situation. They were supposed to go to the opera tonight and instead, she ended up in a hospital with the flu.

Maybe he could stop at the Derry Roasters and buy her some good coffee. But then, she probably doesn’t have the appetite and it would be just a waste of time.

No, he will go straight to the hospital. She will surely be confused when she wakes up in a hospital bed.

Ethan just finished tying the knot on his tie when the door to the bedroom opened and Naveen stepped in.

His face was grave and his eyes red, as if he was crying recently.

„Ethan,“ he said softly, not entirely sure what kind of reaction was he expecting.

„Naveen,“ Ethan nodded in a greeting. „I am sorry but I won’t even invite you for a coffee. I can’t be late for work.“

„I don’t think you should go to work today, Ethan.“

„I can’t see why not. I want to be there when Chiara wakes up.“

Every single cell in Ethan’s body, every single atom in it denied the truth. The new reality.

Ethan couldn’t admit what was happening and he wasn’t going to.

„Chiara is not going to wake up, Ethan,“ Naveen whispered, his voice broken.

„Oh, she is,“ Ethan laughed shortly, waving his hand in the air. „She has a nasty flu, but now that she is in the hospital, it’s going to be okay. They took her to Edenbrook, right?“

„They took her to Edenbrook’s morgue. Chiara is dead, Ethan.“

The air stopped moving around them.

The clock on the wall stopped ticking.

Neither of the men – the friends – moved for a long moment.

The truth has finally found its way into Ethan’s brain. His cells were not able to deny it any longer.

Dr. Banerji was ready to catch Ethan if he falls. If he faints.

But there was no need to catch him.

Ethan cleared his throat and nodded once again.

„Yes, right. Right. I need to call her mother and let her know. The funeral will probably take place in San Francisco, so we need to take care of the transport of her body.“

Naveen recognized what was happening. He has seen the scenario many times in his career as a doctor. The husbands that lost their wives, the sisters that lost their brothers – the first reaction was not always a breakdown.

Sometimes, the defensive mechanism was a forced rationality.

„I will inform Mrs. Ray. In the name of the hospital.“

„I should do it,“ Ethan replied stubbornly.

He wanted to fight with Naveen. He wanted to tell Diana Ray that her daughter died on his watch.

He wanted to take care of a funeral.

He needed to.

„Let me handle it,“ Naveen insisted.

After a long moment, Ethan agreed.

As he muttered silent ‚alright‘, little did he know that those would be the last word he would say in days.

Naveen left the room and Ethan’s glance fell on the bed.

Their bed. Her bed. The bed she died in.

The bed she died in.

She died.

She died and there was no way to reverse the fact.

It hit him like a wave, a wave one would never believe could be formed in such calm waters.

Dead. Gone.

Ethan fell on his knees and the room was filled with a desperate scream.

His scream, he realized.

It was as if the world as he has known it stopped existing in the moment Ethan’s knees met the floor.

His hands formed into tight fists and he punched the wood once, twice, he kept punching until his knuckled were all bruised and bloody.

He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Naveen heart broke at the sight in front of him as he opened the bedroom door.

The man he considered son curled up on the floor, screaming and crying and clearly not registering the room around him.

The back of Ethan’s throat was burning from all the screaming and his temples were throbbing from all the crying.

There was a gentle hand on his shoulder and Ethan believed it to be Naveen’s, but how could he be sure?

How could he ever be sure of anything anymore?

How could he be anymore?

The time stopped existing for Ethan after his first breakdown. Whether it was a day or a night, he didn’t know and he didn’t care.

The days became one and they were all coated in a thick fog, precluding Ethan to remember them.

It is as if there was a window in his mind that swallowed the memories of the first days after Chiara’s death, leaving only occasional snippets to torture his mind.

Ethan remembers the moment Chiara’s mother Diana, her sister Alicia and her aunt Livia stepped into his apartment. He remembers not being able to say a word to them and he remembers their gazes – broken and vain.

He remembers how Diana’s gaze is something more even – so, so distant.

She is sedated, Alicia explained to Naveen, who hasn’t left Ethan’s apartment. She kept fainting and her doctor presribed her the strongest pills.

Alicia cries the whole time and Chiara’s aunt Livia bites her lower lip so hard it never stops bleeding.

He remembers how he wanted to say that he was sorry, wanted to explain, but no sound left his mouth.

Ethan doesn’t sleep and doesn’t eat.

He hasn’t even cried since his breakdown. He just stands by the window, hand deep in his pockets and stares out of it – never saying a word to anyone.

Lost in the fog.

He remember the moment Chiara’s autopsy results come with the meningitis as the cause of her death.

The quickest, deadliest form, Naveen tries to explain. There was nothing that could have been done.

Ethan knows that that is a lie.

The hate he feels towards himself grows impossibly bigger at Naveen’s words – of course there was something that could have been done.

He is the best diagnostician in the country and he let his fianceé die while sleeping next to her.

He failed. Himself. Chiara. Chiara’s mother. Everyone and everything.

Chiara mentioned a stiff neck – that was it. That was a clear sign of the illness so how could he overlook it?

Why did he let her persuade him that it was just a fucking flu?

He still doesn’t cry. He grits his teeth and his hands formed in fists – always in fists – cause his nails to break the skin on the palms.

He should get ready for a funeral. They all should leave to San Francisco.

But nobody moves. Nobody is strong enough to make a first move.

That’s when Bryce Lahela walks into Ethan’s apartment, his eyes haunted and sobs leaving his body as he hugs Diana and Alicia.

Ethan remembers what happens next very well.

Most clearly of everything, it seems.

Chiara left this with me some weeks ago, Lahela speaks quietly while pulling an envelope out of his pocket. In case something happens to her.

It’s a letter. A letter Ethan doesn’t want to read but know he needs to.

           My dearest,

now is the right time to use the Hollywood cliché and I am going to do it.

If you are reading this letter it means I am dead.

And I am sorry. I am so very, very sorry because I know I have hurt you all terribly. And that’s something I never wanted to do.

Mom and Alicia – I failed. I remember how we promised each other that nothing would ever happen to us after dad and Liam died and now I broke my promise. Again, I am sorry. You still have each other – please remember that. And you still have me. Just as you still have dad and Liam. We are with you wherever you go, I promise. You know how much I believe in an afterlife – and with that, I cannot only be sorry for dying, because it also means I finally get to be reunited with them and that makes me happy. Let it make you happy too. Alicia, I am the proudest older sister and I beg you to continue with your life, to find your happiness and to follow your wild heart, just as you always have.

I would also like to ask for a favor – I know that I always wanted to be buried next to my brother. I know you want me to be buried in San Francisco. But Boston is my home now. And Boston is where Ethan is. Me and Ethan, we are forever. In any form. And if I am dead, I want to be resting forever next to him – find me a place in Boston, please. Ask him where he wants me to be buried and bury me there.

I love you both. I love you more than life.

Bryce – thank you. I wish you never had to deliver this letter, but I am eternaly thankful that I have had you to do it. Thank you for being part of my life. You were the brother I lost and you were my constant. No matter how stormy my life got, I knew that somwhere out there, there is my sun, my light Bryce, my safe port I could always run to when things became too much. You deserve all the happiness this world has to provide, Bryce Lahela and never settle for anything less than that. Please, let eveyrone else know how much I loved them – and how sorry I am. Sienna, Jackie, Aurora, Elijah and Rafael – my bestest of friends.

Forgive me for screwing this, Bryce. I know we had plans and I know you were looking forward to the wedding – me too. I love you, surfer boy. Always stay so irresistably amazing.

Oh and I think you really should ask Kyra for that date.

Ethan – my dearest Ethan. My greatest love. My forever. We have both believed in a different future for us, but we were destined for this. I am sorry I left without saying a proper goodbye. I am sorry I left you, period. You know how much I love you, Ethan. And I know how much you love me too – trust me, I do. Don’t torture yourself with regrets of not telling me more. I have always known. I have always felt loved with you and I have always felt happy. Until my last moment, I felt happy because I knew you loved me. I know that no matter what caused my death, you blame yourself for it and I need you to stop with that. Unless you killed me, you are not responsible for my dying.

Ethan Jonah Ramsey, you deserve a lifetime of happiness. I am sorry I ruined that for you, for I know that there is no happiness in your life now. But you still have a lifetime. Lifetime of chances, lifetime of love and friendships and miracles (stop muttering that you don’t believe in those, I know you are doing it now!!!). There are people who love you deeply and unconditionaly and those people will help you. Don’t push them away.

We deserved better. You deserved better, Ethan. We had plans, we had a wedding date, we had a vision of a beautiful future and that has been taken away from you, from us. But I have been part of your life and I am not truly gone as long as you remember me.

Please, never forget that there were five years in your life when you have been loved so deeply and so strongly it didn’t even make sense to the person that loved you sometimes. I will never stop loving you, no matter where I am and where I am not.

You are my greatest love and greatest adventure and I am proud of the man I had the honor of calling mine.

Find your happiness again, Ramsey. Find it and keep it. Love again. Laugh again. Live again.

I am somwhere there, watching you.

I loved you, I love you and I will love you always, Ethan.

 So, that’s it. If someone cares about my last wish, do you think you could arrange for Benedict Cumberbatch to crash my funeral and shout: „She was clever. Clever, yes! She’s cleverer than you lot and she’s dead!“ ? (it’s the scene from S01E01 in Sherlock, you know).

Haha this was a joke but I suppose nobody really laughs at it at the moment. I hope one day you will.

I love you all with my whole heart.

Don’t you fear for me, I am where I am supposed to be.

                                                                              -forever yours, Chiara.

 Ethan reads the letter over and over until he can’t anymore, until his hands are shaking so much he fears he would tear the paper, until his vision is blurry and he cannot read the words anymore.

And then he runs. He runs into to bathroom and throws up, even though he hasn’t eaten in days and there is nothing he could throw up.

He still does.

He coughs and acid that leaves his mouth burns his throat. He throws up and his whole body strains so much it brings tears into his eyes.

First tears after days and they are caused by the vomiting.

Once they are there, however, the first one is followed by another and that by another until Ethan Ramsey is hunched over his toilet seat, vomit and tears falling down.

He doesn’t remember anything after that.

He might’ve fainted and maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. He doesn’t know.

The last thing he remembers until the day of the funeral comes is Harper Emery and her stern gaze as she sits down next to him.

"Take the pills, Ethan. You need to sleep.“

"I need Chiara."

His voice is raspy and speaking for the first time in three days feels unnatural. It makes his thorat sore and takes another remnant of his energy away.

"I understand."

Ethan almost snickers at the absurdity of her statement. Nobody could understand. Because if anybody could comprehend his desire to just wrap his arms around Chiara for one last time, they wouldn't survive the pain that came with it. He doesn't snicker, however. Instead, he whispers.

"No you don't."

"I do," Harper replies firmly and takes a deep breath, deciding to tell Ethan about the man she has never mentioned before, not once in their relationship.

„Michael and I were together for three years. We met while I was in a med school and the flame between us burned almsot immediately. We fell in love and for the first – and the last – time in my life, I felt like I found my true love. But we weren’t meant to last. The relationship was too passionate, too stubborn, too exciting, too much. It became toxic and we had a very rough breakup. I moved on and I knew that we were better off, but there was this part of me that always knew that Michael was the only man I could see my forever with.“

„It was my fifth year at Edenbrook when there was an emergency surgery needed for a motorbike rider and I was the one to perform it. I didn’t need to look twice to recognize Michael – with his face all bloody and bruised and awful, I knew it was him. And I didn’t tell anyone because they wouldn’t let me perform the surgery and I needed to do that. I needed to save him.“

Ethan doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look at Harper – he just keeps staring out of the window. He is surprised but he doesn’t show any emotion.

„I didn’t save him. He died on that table, he died under my hands. For so long I felt like I killed him. I blamed myself, I thought that if someone else did the surgery, they would keep him alive.“

She trailes off and doesn’t give Ethan the answer he needs.

He doesn’t find out is she ever stopped blaming herself.

He doesn’t know if there is a chance that he could ever stop blaming himself.

˜

Ethan doesn’t cry at the funeral.

He is sitting on the front bench in the cathedral, next to Diana, Alicia and Livia.

He doesn’t want to sit there. He doesn’t deserve to sit them.

Can’t they see that it was his fault? That there would be no funeral if he only did his job right?

Alicia cries softly, her lips trembling. Diana, just like Ethan, doesn’t cry – no, she even smiles a little. It is the effect of her sedatives and Ethan knows that she probably won’t even remember the funeral.

Seeing Chiara’s smiling mother hurts more than seeing her crying sister.

The whole ceremony is filled with tears and love. Because everyone loved Chiara and Chiara loved everyone.

And Ethan just sits in his spot, staring at the casket, his gaze never leaving the wood it is made of.

And he doesn’t cry.

He wishes he would. He wishes the tears could get him through the day.

But he doesn’t and there is nothing to get him through the day.

People shake his hand and say their condolences and he keeps nodding and murmuring fake „thank you’s“.

He wishes he could go home, only to realize that there is not a single promise of some kind of peace with returning home.

There is no home for him anymore. There is an apartment. A place to live.

His home is gone. His home is lying in a wooden casket. His home is having ground scatterd all over her.

His home is buried six feet under him.

He is destined to be homeless forever.

˜

Days go by and Ethan doesn’t come back to work – not that anyone expects him to.

His days consist of staring out of the window and sitting next to the toilet in case he needs to vomit again.

People insist on staying with him. Alan and Naveen mostly.

But he doesn’t want their company. He doesn’t want their compassion even.

He wants to be alone and to let his guilt and regrets kill him slowly.

He wants his medical licence removed. He should be charged for killing someone out of negligence.

He doesn’t want to be Ethan Ramsey anymore.

And he always expects Chiara to come back to him. He checks his phone for a message from her. He walks into the living room and it surprises him that there is no stupid movie playing on the TV – the one only Chiara would watch.

He opens the fridge and is shocked when he sees that the Toblerone chocolate is still there – how did Chiara not eat it already?

It is one evening, weeks after the funeral, when Ethan opens a drawer in the bedroom and jolts into Chiara’s  perfume that meets the floor with surprising force and the bottle breaks into dosens of pieces.

The smell – Chiara’s smell – hits him with a force of a train and Ethan stumbles involuntarily at the feeling.

He broke her perfume bottle and it doesn’t matter anymore.

Because Chiara will never use the perfume anymore.

She is not coming back.

She is not coming back.

She is not coming back.

Ethan chokes on his sobs and leaves the room, his decision suddenly thoroughly clear.

There is no world in which he could live if the world is one where Chiara doesn’t live.

He can’t do it.

He can’t stay alive if she is dead.

Grabbing a bottle of scotch, he fills the glass and drinks the liquor in one swing.

Then the second.

Then the third.

There are the sleeping pills Harper has brought him on the counter and Ethan knows.

For the first time in weeks, he has a plan.

The plan that is supposed to be his last one also.

Chiara asked him in the letter to go on with his life. She promised him that there are better days waiting for him.

How could she? She was dead. Dead and gone and indifferent to everything she left behind.

Everyone she left behind.

Ethan Ramsey has always been a rational man. His rules and princlipes leading him through the life, the life that was predictable and safe.

That was until Chiara burst into his life without ever asking and burned his principles to the ground.

That was until Chiara left his life without ever asking.

All he wanted was to die. Ethan never believed in an afterlife and he didn’t believe that killing himself would reunite him with Chiara. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t need to be with Chiara – he just couldn’t handle being without her.

And so he drinks some more.

Suddenly, he sees it. The picture forever burned into his brain.

Diana Ray.

The eyes of a woman who lost her husband, her son and her daughter.

There is a glimpse of rationality after all. And with that part of his brain, Ethan realizes that no matter how much he hurts, Diana Ray hurts more.

He feels like he can’t breathe and he knows that that is how Chiara’s mother feels for every second every day.

He thinks of a mother that lost two of her children and with that, he thinks of his father.

Alan would lose his only child.

And Ethan sees it. Feels it. Knows it.

With his desperate desire to escape the misery surrounding his whole being, he would not only kill himself.

He would kill Alan Ramsey’s child.

The pain he feels would become the pain he caused.

It is the same exact moment the terrible, sobering realization hits him when the heavy crystal glass falls from his hand and shatters on a wooden floor. Ethan follows its trajectory almost identically and with a inhuman sob leaving his throat, his knees hit the floor - and the broken glass.

He can see blood.

The glass is quickly stained by the maroon red and with combination of an artifical light in the kitchen, the most omnious of shadows project on the wood.

There's a lot of blood and even in his state, Ethan knows that it is his own blood. He can see it, he can perceive that his skin has been cut by the sherds. But he doesn't feel it.

There is no physical pain to be felt.

It is as if the pain coming from his core - the pain that doesn't have any visible source - was at such unbearable rate that his body protected him by refusing to let him feel any more.

He could be shot right now and he wouldn't feel anything.

Ethan just wishes he could be shot right now.

He wishes he could vanish, he wishes he could erase the existence of Ethan Ramsey from the universe.

If only it was that easy.

And so with bloody hand, he reaches for his phone and dials his first emergency contact.

„Ethan?“ Alan’s concerned voice responds immediately.

„Dad,“ Ethan gets out of himself, though he is sure Alan hardly understands him thorugh the violent sobs leaving his mouth constantly. „Could you please come here?“

 *** *** ***

so... one thing. The whole meningitis thing being so deadly is not something I made up. It is the very same thing that killed my best friend 7 years ago - he fell asleep with light flu (so everyone thought) and never woke up again.

If Ethan seems out of character here, I am sorry. However I believe that  when one is grieving, there is nothing as out of character. People do really unexpected and weird things while grieving.

This was actually self-indulgent (even though I guess it’s weird to use it like this) - the stages of grief Ethan is going through (denial - weird rationality - breakdown - shutting himself off - not sleeping, eating, talking - unability to express his sorrow at the funeral - more breakdowns - the terrible, terrible moment he realizes she is really never coming back - wishing to die - finding the strength to stay alive...) are my exact stages of my own grief back then. And it was very difficult to write about those and also very healing.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being a younger Avenger and mentoring Kamala

Kamala Khan x reader

warnings: avengers game spoilers, guns

a/n: so excited about this one; i made y/n just a bit older (and gn!) so that they’re in their mid-early teens during a-day! hope thats okie doke! reader has electrokinesis. this accidentally got really detailed

prompt: anonymous: “Hey there! Would you mind writing HCs for the Avengers Game about female reader being a young Avenger (around 17) and mentoring Kamala Khan?”

you were just a kid yourself when you joined the avengers

and you were an inspiration to kids around the world

“does SHIELD think nothing of child labor laws?” -bruce

the avengers became your family

and seeing what you could do...they knew you could handle yourself

and then a-day happened

the day started off so perfect

and the kids went ballistic over seeing you

“y/h/n! look, it’s y/h/n!”

“can i get a picture?”

“hi, guys! of course you can!”

but there was one kid who stuck out among the rest

kamala khan

“you’re the one who wrote about the sewers, right? i freaking loved it! may i just say your art is amazing?”

“r-really?”

“oh, yeah! and the part where you had thor spin mjölnir to push water towards the sewer lizards so i could shock them? genius!”

she could not wait to tell abu about what you had just said

you obviously took a selfie with her and handed her a little pin with your own “icon” on it

but your world got turned upside down that day

the battle was one you’d never forget

and the fighting with your own teammates afterwards would haunt you for years to come

“what do you know, y/n?! you’re just a kid!” -tony

“oh yeah? im one of the only functioning members of this team!”

“everybody calm down. y/n makes a good point, but—” -nat

“thank you”

“...but there’s some stuff you should leave up to us. you really shouldn’t have to take on so much responsibility” -nat

“she’s right, y/n. this was our fault” -bruce

“are you kidding me?! i’m just as guilty as the rest of you, i’m an equal member of this team! for years we’ve dealt with this together, taken the blame together! what’s changed?”

“y/n...you saw what we did out there. that changed everything...” -bruce

you technically were an inhuman, just not terrigen-based

didnt matter to AIM, they took dr. pym for god’s sake

so you had to run, you were on your own for a while

a long while

you laid low for five years, most boring five years of your life

at least you still had your life, though. it just wasn’t what it used to be

but you got a message one day

“‘tiny dancer,’ huh? my moneys on either nat or tony. nah, tony would have chosen ‘rocket man.’”

you couldn’t be sure, maybe it was just a random shield agent...maybe hank pym? god, this was crazy

the message brought you to, uh, cap’s memorial statue

and there was a young girl arguing with a couple of boys...an inhuman!

you hopped in and saved her, she seemed scared

“hey, kid, you alright?”

“y/h/n? is it really you?”

she seemed vaguely familiar

“are you tiny dancer?”

“no, i thought you might be? they sent you here, too?”

there wasn’t much time to chat, AIM was onto you

you two unfortunately got split up for a minute, but you were practically raised by the notorious clint barton and natasha romanoff, and various other spies

yes, you planted a tracker on her

and met her at the bus stop!

“you found me?”

“that i did, kamala. see, i do remember you”

“that is so cool! i mean—not almost getting killed, or the guy with the big head...”

“what guy? you need to tell me everything”

the whole busride was a bit overwhelming. kamala explained the resistance clues, her powers, her undying admiration for the avengers, you name it

but it made you feel good to know that there were people out there that didn’t hate you

“so what was it like? being the teenage avenger?”

“uh, it was...it was really cool. i felt like i was one-of-a-kind. but sometimes people didn’t take me seriously, it was kind of aggravating”

“yeah, no one takes me seriously either...”

“you know, depending on how this all goes, i might be able to give you a few pointers”

“really?! that’d be great!”

once you got to utah...you saw the chimera

it brought back some bad memories, kamala could tell

“you okay?”

“me? yeah, im good. just thinking...okay, well, do you have a plan on how to get yourself across all of this?”

“actually, i do!”

it was kind of creepy in there, but when you laid your eyes on caps shield, you kind of broke

“do you hear something, what it that?”

“...hulk. kamala, you need to get out of here, i’ll catch up to you, i swear”

she didn’t leave in time, so she got to see the greener side of bruce. you chased him back and tried to get bruce back

meanwhile, kamala found AIM troops...oops

bruce cooled off and man was he doing rough

“y/n, is that really you?”

“yeah, its me. surprise. how long have you been the big guy?”

“too long...a few years”

“jesus, im sorry. i’ll be right back, though. some kid brought me here, i gotta go get her. you kinda scared her off”

she was passed out when you got to her

but bruce is a doctor, he’d figure it out

“i could give her a little shock to wake her up, you know?”

“oh, i know. just let her rest for a minute. she needs it”

“right...well im gonna take a look around, maybe go see what i left behind. i could power the place up, but we’re missing some parts to actually get this thing running. best i can do is lights and doors”

you turned the little things on and turns out did leave a decent amount of stuff in here

your first pair of pistols that nat gave you, the gigantic stein that thor gifted you for your 13th birthday, gadgets tony needed an “extra boost” for *bzzt*, a note from cap that just said “good luck, y/n, you’re going to do great!” you cant even remember what it was he was referring to. you just missed him

kamala walked in while you were shuffling around and cleaning the place up

“hey, dr. banner wanted me to come get you. is this your room?”

“that it is, and it’s a huge mess. this is literally all my belongings ever”

bruce had his plan and you just went along, helping kamala out as you go

“baby steps, kam, don’t want you to pass out. but don’t worry, happens to the best of us” -you

“really? you pass out too?” -kamala

“oh yeah, for sure. tell her bruce, remember that time we had thor overcharge me to literally make me an EMP? and tony was busy listening to music so he wouldn’t get out of the blast radius and his armor shut down? so he was out of commission and i had just collapsed from it all? good times”

“y/n, we thought you died” -bruce

this hc is so long omg — anyways you guys ended up finding tony and it was sort of entertaining but he kinda punched bruce and then hugged you

“you got so big”

“shut up, tony”

you kinda harbored some bad feelings since none of the avengers did anything to help you once they started rounding up inhumans (but you still missed them)

getting attacked again

“okay, kamala, remember what i said about baby steps. dont overdo it. i trust you with this!”

“thank you, y/n! uh—oh my god!”

aaaanyways you went to the ant hill to see hank and pick up some supplies, boy was it great to see some familiar faces, then back the the chimera you went to fix it all up

“can you hold that right there for me, kamala? thanks. i think that just about does it. now i have a surprise for you...your own room!”

you helped kamala get it nice and tidy while talking about each other’s lives, she really did remind you of yourself when you became an avenger. excited, scared, underestimated, all of that. and she begged you to share some mission stories, so you obviously did

“you know, if you stick around for a while, you’re gonna have some cool stories, too. maybe even a kickass costume.”

“oh! a costume, ive got that sorta covered. check it out. a burkini, muslim women wear it for swimming and stuff. my mom got it for me”

“love it. soon we’ll find you a fitting name and update the suit, but seriously, this was the perfect way to go. you look great”

“you think so? i don’t know if i feel that cool. maybe i should try something else?”

“if that’s how you feel, you don’t have to stick to it. you can experiment all you want! but i really think you did awesome on this. come on, pose with me! and hey, i like your pins.”

at this point, you’d do anything for kamala, she reminded you so much of yourself. you would have killed for a mentor your age back in the day.

natasha was in fact tiny dancer...called it

“oh, god, y/n. you’re all grown up...im sorry we left you alone. but if it makes you feel better, i always kept an eye on you”

“well, i kind of took on a protégé...she’s like your grand-protégé. kam, c’mere”

after thor finally came back, everyone started fighting again and ditched, it felt so familiar. but you couldn’t leave kamala behind, you swore to yourself that you couldn’t do that.

she was so good for this team

MODOK was defeated (by kamala herself) but there was so much left to do, tons of threats to extinguish, training to accomplish

“y/n, tony won’t turn his dad rock off! he overrode the speakers in my room”

“oh, it’s on. get chastity’s fabric dye and bleach pens. we’re gonna start some trouble”

she gave you a high five one time and nearly broke your arm

sending each other tiny hand memes

“hey, ms. m, how’re your parents? doing okay without their favorite super-daughter?”

“my abu doesn’t stop texting me actually, says my family is super proud of me. it’s a nice change of pace”

you take her on covert missions for field training, it was Educational(tm)

*elevator music playing* “so...what do you want for dinner? i was thinking we could ask thor to barbecue”

sleepovers in her room that just turn into her showing you her superhero merch, listening to music, prank lists, sneaking off to the HARM room for hand-to-hand combat training and power experiments, thinking up new costume designs

“tip: you always need backup suits, you never know what you’re gonna run into out there. one time tony pushed me into a tower of paint cans and they spilled all over me. steve yelled at him for two hours afterwards. worst mission ever, except steve said ‘motherfucker’ and i have never recovered from the emotions of that day”

“wow, i wish i could have been there for that”

“don’t worry, kami, you’ll see some crazy ‘team bonding’ along the way”

she geeks out about captain marvel sometimes

“hey, i’ve got a book carol gave to me about ‘teens taking responsibility.’ you wanna read it?”

“is it any good?”

“i don’t know, i only read the first two pages”

you ended up having a true heart-to-heart with her after one mission when she made a mistake that nearly cost you guys the mission. you told her that not every mission is going to go perfect, each avenger had slipped up in the field, and she had just started, shes not going to be perfect

“i am literally always here if you need anything. i know what it feels like to be a teenager among legends, but trust me, you’ve made it this far and you’ve proven how much of a badass you are. i know you can take anything that gets thrown at you”

kamala said she makes vegan nachos and yeah she makes vegan nachos

you guys have to hide from the rest of the team when she makes them bc they eat ALL OF THEM

gaff (the SHEILD vendor) has you test his gear, you recommend gear to kamala

you were so excited to guide kamala on her journey of heroism

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm //

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch1: The Dog Of Thunder

Summary: Frank and Fliss attend their first scan and break the news of their pregnancy to their friends, whilst dealing with a troublesome Dog and a very, very concerned 8-almost-9 year old.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

This ain’t some routine that I use every Friday, this ain’t a one line, one night kiss and tell…

February 2019

“For the last time Mary, no you can’t come!” Frank exasperatedly groaned as Mary once more asked him the question she’d been pecking his head with since dinner the previous day.

“Why not?”

“Because first off you have school and second off this is a medical appointment for Fliss.” He shook his head. “Not a day out!”

“But you’re going…” “Yeah because it’s my baby!” He looked at her, shaking his head “Why am I even explaining this to you? You’re going to school, end of discussion.”

Mary scowled at him and folder her arms. “That is so unfair.”

“Yeah well, so is life. Get used to it.”

“I only want to see the baby.” Mary said quietly, giving a little sigh. Frank paused, his coffee mug held a few inches from his mouth as he considered her for a second before he smiled softly.

“Me too Stack, I can’t wait.” He took a sip of his drink. “Look, I know you’re excited, we all are but you still can’t come.”

“Can’t come where?” Fliss asked, yawning as she walked into the kitchen, reaching into the cupboard for the waffles.

“The scan.” Frank took the packet off her and slid the plate of already toasted ones over to her. She grinned at him and took a huge bite of one.

“Sorry kiddo, but we’ll make sure we bring you a photo back.” she looked at Mary, before she turned and opened the fridge, pulling out the apple juice. Frank watched as she poured a large glass before she drained it in one. “What?” she frowned, “I’m thirsty”

“You hate apple juice.” Mary’s eyebrows raised a little.

Fliss glanced at Mary, then to the bottle on the side, then the empty glass in her hand “Huh…guess the baby doesn’t.” she mused.

“You feeling ok?” Frank asked, reaching out to curl an arm round her waist and no sooner had his fingers brushed her skin Thor let out a low, rumbling growl. Frank groaned and stared at the dog. “Seriously, pal? Still?”

“I don’t know what’s got into him.” Fliss shook her head, studying the dog as his lip curled back, exposing his sharp, bright white teeth. “I know he’s been protective over me in the past, but not with you.”

“It’s your hormones.” Mary supplied, as both Frank and Fliss turned their heads to her. “I googled it when he growled at Frank last night to see why he’s been doing it for so long and in the first three months you get all these hormones flooding your system and that’s why you get sick and tired because you’re not used to them. Some people say that dogs and pets can also sense it and it can affect them too until they understand it’s normal.” Frank blinked as besides him Fliss gave a chuckle “Mary, you’re a little brainbox.”

“It’s all on the internet.” Mary shrugged. “I was curious. According to one vet site that I looked on it can make female animals think they are pregnant too and the males feel like they have to protect their person.” “Well he needs to quit.” Frank looked at Thor. “Or he’ll be sleeping outside, predicted heavy rainfall or not.” Fliss narrowed her eyes at Frank and he shrugged. “What? Isn’t he supposed to be the God of Thunder, or should that be the Dog of Thunder…”

Mary let out a snort as Fliss glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Nope, he wouldn’t.” Mary grinned “When Fred was new he used to tell me he was gonna kick him out all the time.” “He shredded the sofa.” Frank looked at her.

“He was a baby.” Mary said, swallowing the last of her toast.

“Whatever. You done?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, go get your stuff I’ll walk you down to the bus stop.”

“I can go on my own…” Mary retorted.

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” Frank looked at her.  “Make sure you get your jacket, it’s a little cold out.”

With a groan Mary pushed off her chair, carried her empty plate to the sink where she placed it inside and shuffled off. Fliss moved to put it in the dishwasher and when she straightened up, Frank looped his arms round her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder.

“Is it wrong that I’m already hoping Bean is a boy?” Frank sighed, his hand gently splaying over Fliss’ stomach, the pair of them ignoring the thunder-like growl coming from the very aptly named dog who was sat eyeing Frank beadily.

Fliss laughed, her hand falling on top of his. “Not quite sure you’ll cope with three girls, huh?”

“I’ll have lost all my hair by the time I’m 40.”

“You know, that’s only like two years away.” Fliss grinned, turning in his arms.

“Err, two years and a month, actually.” He narrowed his eyes at her playfully.

“Details.” She grinned as he placed a soft kiss to her lips, Thor’s growl growing even louder.

“Right, seriously?” He broke away to look at the dog who stared at him, Fliss’ laughter growing louder. The dog’s lip once more curled up in a snarl before he looked at Fliss when she spoke to him sternly.

“Thor, no.”

He stopped immediately, his tail wagging.

“I can’t cope with this for another six months every time I wanna touch you.” Frank wined and Fliss pondered something for a second.

“The Vet is coming to the yard today to do the routine visits. I’ll take him up there his afternoon, see if he has any advice.” She shrugged.

Frank nodded. “Ok.”

At that point Mary came back, her jacket on and her bag over her shoulder. “Ready.”

“Have a good day.” Fliss called as the two of them, headed to the door, Frank picking up his dark blue jacket as he went, Thor ambling behind.

“Oh, so now you’re my friend.” Frank mumbled, and the dog simply wagged his tail in response as Frank looked back at Fliss “It’s like he has a split personality!”

Fliss grinned as Frank shook his head once more and spoke to Thor as they headed out into the chilly morning sun.

“Fickle bastard.”

********* “Good morning!”  Frank and Fliss both looked up as a woman in her mid to late forties swept into the consultation room, smiling at them both. “Miss Gallagher?”

“Yeah.” Fliss nodded.

“Hi I’m Dr Kent.” she smiled, “And you’re Dad I assume?” She turned to Frank.

“Sure am.” Frank smiled at her.

“Nice to meet you Mr…”

“Adler, please, call me Frank.” He smiled, shaking the woman’s hand.

“Ok so, I gather this is your first scan?”

Fliss nodded.

“And your notes say you estimate between 11 to 13 weeks is that correct?”

“Yeah.” Fliss nodded.

“Right, just a few questions and we’ll get on with it. How have you been? Is there anything worrying you?”

“Not really, I mean my morning sickness seems to come in waves.” Fliss shrugged “Some days I’m okay, some days I’m a little off colour for a few hours and then others it’s like full twenty-four hour sickness”

“Are you managing to keep hydrated?”

“Mostly” she nodded.

“Any trouble sleeping?” “No.” Fliss shook her head as Frank snorted.

“It’s keeping her awake that’s the issue.”

Fliss glared at him as the Doctor laughed. “Yes, tiredness is common in the first few months especially but you should feel most of this ease off between 16 to 20 weeks…at which point I hate to say it but you trade it for a whole other set of stuff.” “Great.” Fliss grumbled.

Doctor Kent smiled sympathetically and then clapped her hands together. “Right, you ready to see Baby…oh, is it Gallagher or Adler, or-”

“Adler.” both Frank and Fliss said at the same time. The both looked at one another, neither of them had discussed that at all, and they both gave a gentle as the Doctor nodded, switching on the machine.

“Ok, just lift your top up…yup, just like that and…this is gonna feel cold ok?” she asked, squeezing the gel onto Fliss’ stomach. Grabbing the wand she pressed it onto her belly, moving it around until she stopped and smiled, as the sound of their baby’s heartbeat suddenly hit their ears.

“Here we go.” The Doctor smiled, turning the screen to face them allowing both Frank, and Fliss to see their baby for the first time.

“Oh Frankie, look.” Fliss whispered, her head turned towards the screen as Frank took her hand in his, his gaze completely focussed on the shape. You could clearly make out it was a tiny human. A head, two arms, two legs. Frank felt his eyes mist over instantly as he saw his baby on the screen in front of him, somehow making all this seem so much more real. He could see it! He could hear it!

He looked at Fliss as she turned to face him, a dazed smile spreading across his face as he raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the place just underneath where their fingers were joined.

“Everything is perfect.” The Doctor spoke “I can’t see any abnormalities at all. Your baby is absolutely fine and healthy.”

Fliss let out the breath she had been holding and Frank squeezed her hand. They were through the most dangerous part and their baby was fine, it was all going to be perfectly fine.

And he couldn’t be more happy or relived.

“I estimate from this that you’re nearer thirteen weeks than eleven but it’s never exact.”  The Doctor continued. “So I would predict a due date of…” she tapped at the keyboard and smiled at them both “21st August.”

She wiped Fliss’ stomach clean, allowing her to move her top back down before she stood up.

“You have any questions for me?” “Oh, erm…when am I likely to start showing?” Fliss asked. “I mean I’ve been putting on a bit of weight I know that as my jeans are a little tight but I can’t see much of a difference other than the fact it looks like-“

“There is nothing to be concerned about.” The doctor shook her head, smiling. “Everyone is different. Your lifestyle, muscle mass, weight are all contributing factors. Try not to worry about it too much, your baby is growing correctly and you’ll notice soon enough.”

Fliss pouted and Frank had to laugh. He knew what she was grumbling about. She’d complained the other day that her pants wouldn’t fasten and she was stood in front of the mirror moaning that it didn’t even look like a bump merely like she’d eaten a few too many pizzas. When Frank had pointed out she had been eating like a pig in all fairness, mainly chomping through McDonald’s fries, ready-made toasting waffles and apples like they were going out of fashion, she’d thrown a pillow at his head whilst he had run from the room laughing.

“I’ll just get sort you a copy of the photo and some information about the Lamaze classes and everything else and then you can be on your way. Congratulations.” The doctor smiled, as she headed for the door.

“Thirteen weeks.” Frank looked at Fliss as she up “That confirms it’s definitely a made in Boston Bean”

Fliss laughed as he stood up, kissing her cheek as he went, the pair of them stopping as her stomach let out a huge growl. Frank looked at her, his eyebrow raised before his hand fell to her stomach.

“Is Bean hungry?” “So is Mumma.” she grinned.

“Well that goes without saying.” he teased.

“Hey I’m cooking another person here, pal, it’s hungry work….oh, can we go to the Waffle house? I could murder a chocolate and strawberries special. And apple juice.” “We can go wherever you want.” he smiled. “I’m yours for the entire day.”

“Even H&M?”

Frank hesitated before he groaned “Fine.” He looked at her before he grinned cheekily “You do need some new jeans after all…” “Bastard!” she snorted, slapping his arm and he gave a laugh.

***** Frank parked the truck up and climbed out to shove a couple of bucks in the meter. When he came back he looked at Fliss who was leaning on the door, arms folded.

“You do this in purpose?”

“What?” He frowned.

She nodded to the store he had managed to park outside, and he turned to see he’d inadvertently picked a spot outside a little independent baby boutique called Bloomers.

“Fuck, no!” he laughed and Fliss gave him a grin as he took her hand. They both turned to head towards the Waffle place but Fliss hesitated as she looked through the window of the shop. Frank waited for her, a soft smile on his face. He’d been itching to buy the baby something but Fliss had point blank refused to allow him or anyone else to do so until they had the confirmation from the scan to tell her everything was okay. She’d confided in Frank that she didn’t want to edge her bets, she felt that everything was just going too perfect for them and she was waiting for something to come along and fuck it up.

Frank had tried to reason with her, tell her that she was worrying about nothing but she’d gotten herself so worked up that in the end it had been easier to appease her, but now…well, she held that confirmation that it was all ok in a little black and white photo in her purse. Their baby was fine, healthy and strong and…fuck, they were gonna be the proud parents to a tiny baby person in another six months or so.

“You wanna go in?” he asked. She turned to him with a grin and nodded.

Frank held the door open for her and they walked into the little boutique, the pair of them stopping still as they looked around. There was so much baby stuff, Frank started to feel a little overwhelmed and suddenly thrown back 9 years or so to when he had been in a similar shop with Diane when she’d been preparing to have Mary.

It struck him then how the two situations couldn’t have been more different. For starters they had the support of family behind them right from the off. Bill and Verity had been over the moon when they had found out Fliss was expecting, even if it had come as a bit of a surprise. More so because they hadn't been planning on revealing their news quite the way it came out.  They'd agreed that they would announce their engagement first and get Christmas out of the way, for no particular reason really other than Fliss' brother would be over for New Years and they could tell the family together once they had broken the news to Mary first.

But, well, best laid plans and all that…

“Oh Lissy…” Verity gushed, tears in her eyes as she looked at Fliss’ ring “I’m so happy for you…”

“Thanks Mum!” Fliss smiled, her own tears spilling own her cheeks as Bill shook Frank’s hand furiously, before pulling him in for a manly hug.

“Thank you.” Bill muttered into his ear, so that no one could hear him. “Thank you for wanting to look after her.”

“Always.” Frank nodded as the man stepped back, smiling at him.

“Well, we need to crack that champagne open that we bought.” Verity pulled back.

“We have one in the fridge already.” Frank smiled. “We’ll save yours for later on with dinner.”

The champagne had been shared, Fliss having a small glass which she secretly topped up with a little lemonade so as not to spark too much suspicion, Mary also having a flute of fizzy apple juice before they settled down, exchanged gifts and then sat at the table for dinner. And all was going so well until Bill’s sharp eyes noticed Fliss wasn’t drinking wine.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache.” Fliss said, when he quizzed her about it, but even as she spoke she felt her cheeks flush.

“Right, you’re not pregnant then?” Bill snorted at his own joke.

“Oh Bill, stop it!” Verity nudged him, shaking her head.

Frank felt his neck beginning to warm as he glanced at Fliss, the pair of them trying to brush it off by smiling, but Bill’s eyes widened as he observed the pair of them and his mouth fell open “Jesus Christ you are.”

“What are you talking about?” Verity snorted “Of course she’s…” she trailed off as Fliss locked eyes with her and gave a sigh.

“We didn’t’ want to tell you yet, not until Steve was here and we’d spoken to Mary.”

“You’re having a baby?” Mary looked at Fliss, her eyes wide “Frank’s baby?”

“Well who else’s would it be?” Frank looked at Mary. She narrowed her eyes at him and he shook his head “We wanted to tell you first Stack, but we we’re gonna wait until after Christmas and we’d had a few days ourselves to get used to the idea...” “Few days?” Verity whispered and Fliss glanced at her mum whose hand had flown to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears “When did you find out?”

“Yesterday morning.” Fliss said softly. “I didn’t tell Frank until the evening.”

“I’m sorry Titch…” Bill spluttered, his eyes also misting over said, “I didn’t for one second think you actually would be…”

With that he pushed his chair back and strode round to the other side of the table, Fliss rising to her feet to greet him in one of his famous bear hugs as he kissed her cheek before she turned to her mum who embraced her gently, sniffling as she did so.

When Verity released Fliss, she turned to Frank who was currently having his own back slapped once again by Bill before he turned just in time to see Mary was stood on her chair, but before he could tell her to sit down she’d launched herself at him.

“Oh my God this is so cool!” she said as Frank chuckled, catching her and then adjusting his arms so she was safely held “A baby?”

“Yeah…”

She turned to Fliss who moved towards the two of them, Frank shifting slightly as Mary leaned back in his arms to place hers round Fliss’ neck before he smiled at his girl as she turned back to her parents.

“We know it might be a bit sudden.” She began, her hands wringing together like they always did when she was a bit nervous. “And no it wasn’t planned- my bad, and yes, maybe we should have been married first but we’re happy and excited and…”

“Basically I gave her a diamond, she gave me a positive pregnancy test in return.” Frank kissed her cheek, cutting her ramblings off because he could tell she was spiralling. And there was no need to. Not one person in the room had reacted badly to their news.

“Fair swap I suppose.” Bill shrugged, his eyes shining. “No, it’s great news…it really…”

He trailed off shrugging, unable to find anything else to say. There was a moment’s silence before Mary let out a chuckle as she leaned back in Frank’s arms to look at him, her hands squishing his cheeks.

This is the best Christmas EVER!”

Frank had been overwhelmed with how much love and joy had filled the room for something that was barely the size of a bean at that point. He’d called his mother later on in the evening as Fliss had said it was only fair and to his surprised she’d sounded quite emotional when he told her, a stark contrast to how she’d received the news of Diane’s pregnancy. But then, as Frank had said to Fliss later on as they lay in bed, the Evelyn he was getting to know now was certainly different in his eyes to the woman she had been back then. Fliss had made a good point that it probably wasn’t completely down to Evelyn changing per-say, but also how he was viewing her as well.

But, then, how could things not be different after everything they had been through?

He glanced over as Fliss tugged on his hand and began to lead him over to the various displays of clothing. He tossed a glance at one of the strollers that was in the middle of the store on a slightly raised plinth, doing a double take when he saw the price tag.

“How much?” he spluttered and Fliss turned to look at him, then the offending item and gave a soft laugh

“Yeah, they’re not cheap…but we don’t need to worry about that yet, or cribs and stuff. To be fair we should probably be more concerned with where we’re gonna live.”

“Yeah I know.” Frank took a deep breath.

“Hey.” Fliss looked at him. “Frank it’s not a problem…” “Yeah you said.” His tone was a little brusque and she frowned.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just don’t like the idea of them not having their own room. I did that with Mary and I want this to be right.” “Frank, it’s not a big deal.” Fliss smiled “Mary turned out ok and Bean will be in our room for a while anyway, we have plenty of time.” “I know but I’d still rather be able to move beforehand if we can.” he shrugged.

“Why?” She pressed.

“Because I want them to have a Nursery.” he pressed, flushing slightly “I’d like to decorate one for them…stuff I should have done for Mary.”

“And you can.” Fliss reached up to cup his cheek “Frank, it isn’t the be all and end all though. No one’s gonna think any less of you if there isn’t one ready and waiting. Certainly not my parents.” “Who says that’s what…” he trailed off when she shot him a knowing look and he sighed “Busted?” “Well and truly.”

“I know you’re right.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, “But it can’t hurt to give the landlord a call and explain can it? You never know, he might be happy to let us out of our lease early. It was me that pushed for a long term one after all.”

Fliss shrugged “Nope, you’re right it can’t hurt…” she stopped as something caught her eye and she started laughing “Oh my god, Frankie look…”

She picked up a baby grow that was a pale, lemon yellow colour with a white sailboat on the front. “A mini sailor.”

Frank snorted. “If you get that we need one with a horse on the front to balance it out, seeing as we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet.” “Hey, girls can sail and boys can ride.” Fliss narrowed her eyes “Stop being sexist.”

At that he let out a loud laugh, a really loud laugh, which caused the assistant to look over at them both.

“I’m getting it.” Fliss nodded, definitively, picking it up.

“I’ll buy it.” Frank smiled gently, reaching for it.

“Why?”

“Fliss, don’t start! Let me buy my baby’s first stuff, please.” She cocked her head to one side, and he thought she was going to argue again but then that gorgeous smile spread across her face and she handed it to him.

“You’re such a softie.” She leaned up to give him a gentle kiss. They browsed for a bit longer, before her stomach let out another growl and Frank decided enough was enough. He gently began to lead her over to the till when she pulled on his hand again and grinned as she picked up a pair of tiny white Converse trainers

“They match Mary’s.”

“Yeah, and at almost thirty bucks they can stay matching on the shelf.” He grumbled.

“Bean needs them.”

“No, Bean doesn’t need them.” He rolled his eyes.

“Does.” Fliss bat her eyelashes at him as her hand fell to her stomach, gently rubbing over her T-shirt.

“Is this how it’s gonna be? Basically every time I say no to something you’re gonna play this card?” he looked at her, his eyebrow raising.

“Pretty much.” she nodded.

“Fucks sake.”  He shook his head before he let out an annoyed chuckle, “Fine, get the damned sneakers.”

*****

After a bite to eat they headed home to get Thor and took him up to the yard. Before the Vet started his routine examinations of the horses, Fliss asked if there was anything they could do to make Thor more comfortable. After seeing first-hand what they were trying to describe when Frank had dropped an arm round her shoulder, the Vet had suggested they could give the dog a mild sedative. But when Frank had realised that this would make him dopey, he had refused almost as vehemently as Fliss had. He knew it wasn’t Thor’s fault he was feeling the way he was, plus if Frank was honest, he liked the way he knew the dog would protect Fliss. Okay so she didn’t need it at home but it was comforting to know when he wasn’t there that she was safe.

“Other than that it’s a case of riding it out.”  Scott, the vet shrugged. “Our dog was a little off for about 4 months when my wife was expecting our first. For our second and third, well, he couldn’t care less.”

Frank looked at Fliss. “So he only needs a kennel for a few weeks then.” “My dog is NOT living in a kennel.” Fliss shot over her shoulder as she followed the vet over to the first stable which was Cap’s, Thor trotting behind her as always. “Oh, can you grab me a water from the office?” “Sure.” Frank nodded as Fliss carried on after the vet who entered the stall and Cap immediately looked at him suspiciously.

“He remembers from last year.” Scott chuckled and Fliss let out a snort.

“Probably. I wish he’d take a leaf out of Heidi’s books. She’s such a good girl for stuff like this.” Fliss slipped the halter over Cap’s head, gently stroking his nose as the vet felt all down his legs and listened to his heart. By the time Frank reappeared the Vet was checking Cap’s eyes then his ears and Fliss had a hold of the rope connected to his halter, wrapped once around his nose to keep control of him.

“Stop…being…an…ass…” She said as he jerked his head up again, attempting to get out of the vet’s reach. “Come on Cap…” She stroked his nose softly and he lowered his head, giving her a filthy look as he did so. The Vet then managed to check his teeth which were fine and moved back to his bag to retrieve his kit for the annual vaccination shot.

“Erm…” Scott looked at Fliss. “I’m not sure it’s wise you being here if he’s gonna go mad like he did last year.” His eyes flicked down to her stomach. Fliss hesitated and Frank could see she was about to tell the Vet where to get off when he cut in.

“Honey, he’s right.”

She turned to face him, glaring at him and he met her stare with one of his own, completely unperturbed and unwilling to back down. When she realised this she rolled her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll get Joanne.” She grumbled, opening the stable door and stalking past him.

Frank let out a noise that was halfway between a sigh and a groan. Scott chuckled a little and looked at him. “She’ll get used to it. Not being able to do certain things, I mean.” Frank snorted “I’m not so sure. She’s so damned headstrong…that’s why she likes him so much.” he nodded to the black and white horse in question “Kindred spirits.” A couple of minutes later Fliss came back, Joanne following and the blonde girl headed into the stall, taking hold of the rope.

“We may as well go.” Fliss turned to Frank. He frowned.

“You don’t want to stay?” “What’s the point, I’m not needed.” Her tone was clipped and Frank exchanged a look with Joanne who rolled her eyes

“Fliss, no one said that. You just you need to be a little bit more careful…” Joanne tried to appease her but Fliss was having none of it. “I can be careful at home.” She snapped and then turned to Frank “Can we go?”

“Sure.” Frank shrugged.

“Call me if there’s anything I need to know, otherwise I’ll see you tomorrow.” Fliss said without looking at Joanne as she left.

Frank shot Joanne an apologetic look as he followed Fliss out of the barn and towards the truck.

“Was that really necessary?” he asked.

“Was what necessary?” she yanked the door to the truck open to let Thor hop into the back.

“You know full well what.” he looked at her as she slammed the door shut and move to the passenger one. “There was no need to speak to Joanne like that, she didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, no one did anything wrong.”

“Other than telling me I can’t do my job.” Came the retort as Fliss sank into the passenger seat, once more slamming the door shut.

“No one is saying you can’t do your job, just that for a little while you need to be careful.” He shook his head as he climbed in after her. “. You can’t ride and you can’t put yourself in a position where you might get hurt.”

Fliss folded her arms across her chest, staring out of the front window sullenly. “So basically I can’t do my job, like I just said…” “You own and manage the stables.” Frank felt his temper starting to flare a little as he drove the truck down the drive to the road.

“I’m well aware of that thank you!” “So own and manage then, Fliss!” he said loudly. Behind them on the back seat Thor began to growl at his raised voice.

“I do!” she blazed back, “What kind of stupid comment is that?”

“No, you do everything.” he snapped back, shaking his head, ignoring the dog. “You promoted Joanne so that you could take a step back and for a while you did, but then it all started creeping back up again and you took more of that control back. You took the classes you gave her back, you still insist on being there most mornings to open and close up! The whole point of you giving her more responsibility was so that you could concentrate on teaching and the management side.” Fliss looked at him, before she turned away, staring out of the window as Thor’s growls died down. She knew Frank was right, she had started taking bits of tasks back off Joanne. Not on purpose, not really, but because she felt like she should be doing more. She didn’t like feeling out of control, not after spending so long being forced to be for no particular reason other than her ex was an abusive ass hole.

“Honey I get it.” Frank sighed, as he saw her reach up to wipe her eyes. “It’s your business, but that doesn’t mean you have to be on the front lines all the time. Look at Alan, I see him max once a month, the rest of the time he leaves it to me and the other team leaders to run. That’s the whole point!” “I know.” Fliss said quietly. “I’m a control freak, I get it…guess I spent so much time not being in control of my life and my career I just…”

Frank took a deep breath his hand reaching out for hers. Once more ignoring the dog on the back seat he tangled his fingers into hers and raised his hand to her mouth, pressing his lips softly to her wrist.

“Being driven isn’t a bad thing, sweetheart.” he said softly “In fact it’s one of the things that attracted me to you in the first place. But, certainly for the next few months you need to just step back, let others do the work for you. You can still boss them about from the side lines.” “I don’t boss-“ she started and he looked at her eyebrow raised and she let out a chuckle. “Okay, maybe I do a little.” “And you’re entitled to.” He smiled. “Look, I don’t want to tell you what to do and I have no intentions of making you stop work or anything like that but, well, it’s not just you now, you got Bean to think about and I worry ok?” “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I didn’t mean to snap.”

Apologies accepted and World War Three avoided, Frank smiled at her and she smiled back as he let go of her hand so he could turn the truck up the lane onto the freeway.

“So…” he said, changing the subject “How do you want to tell the Circle of Truth our news.” She grinned and turned to look at him “I had an idea…” Turns out her idea was simple. Giggling to themselves once they go home they arranged the scan photo, the baby-grow and the trainers on the dining table, snapped a photo and fired it out to the group text accompanied simply by the words “Coming August 2019…”

Immediately both their phones started to ring, Greg was on to Frank, and Bonnie onto Fliss. Whilst Greg was slightly more reserved, Bonnie was almost screaming in excitement demanding to know all the details.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” she scoffed and Fliss smiled. “We didn’t tell anyone other than family.” she said “With everything that has happened I was so scared something might go wrong. You’re not cross are you?”

“Cross, no of course not! This is amazing!” Bonnie gushed “So, what happened first, you gotta tell me…the proposal or finding that out?”

Fliss beamed “No, Frank proposed before he knew. Which makes me even happier because he wanted me to marry him because of me, not out of any duty or feeling it was the right thing to do.”

“Of course he wanted to marry you.” Bonnie scoffed “That goes without saying. Oh I’m so excited, I can’t wait.”

Bonnie’s reaction paled into insignificance to Roberta’s. When they collected Mary from the school bus they told her that she could go and tell Roberta the news she’d been dying to tell her since Christmas, so she skipped ahead, banging on the woman’s door. When Mary blurted out Fliss was pregnant and Frank passed her the scan photo she paused for a moment before her head raised to look at them both and she burst into tears and it took them a good half an hour to calm her down. Once she’d assured them she was fine and couldn’t wait for unofficial Nanny duties, the three of them headed home where they decided that Pizza was on the menu for the evening. Along with waffles for Fliss, of course.

After stuffing their faces they sat on the sofa, the scan photo placed on the coffee table, Frank catching Mary looking at it every so often. When it hit 8 pm and he told her it was time for bed, she grumbled as usual until Frank shot her a look and she sighed dramatically, shuffling to the edge of the seat she had been occupying between them both.

She glanced at the scan photo before she turned to Fliss and looked at her.

“I really am happy you’re having a baby.” She smiled “It’s been so hard not telling everyone at school, especially Rosie.”

Fliss smiled at her and Frank reached out, rubbing Mary’s back. “Well you can tell who you want now Stack.” “You know you’re gonna have to stop calling me that.” She turned to look at him “Because when Bean is born, it’s gonna be the shortest one out of us all.” “You’ll always be short stack to me.” Frank smirked. “Or I could change it to squirt, or pain-in-the-ass…” “You’re so lame.” Mary rolled her eyes.

Frank gave a sarcastic laugh. “ha ha ha.”

“Can Rosie come for dinner on Friday?” She suddenly looked at Fliss, and Fliss immediately glanced at Frank. They’d heard a lot about the girl from Mary, and Bonnie had said they were thick as thieves at school which pleased Frank, the fact that she was actually forging proper friendships but she’d never asked them if she could have a friend over.

“Of course.” Fliss nodded. “You can ask her tomorrow and then I can speak to her mom if you want? Maybe she can sleep over?” “Hmmm.” Mary thought about it “I’m not sure about that, but dinner would be good.”

Frank looked at Fliss again “What aren’t you sure about?”

She shrugged “I dunno, I kinda like my own time in the evening.” “What are you, ninety?” Frank looked at her and she glared at him.

“Shut up.”

“She can come for dinner.” Fliss cut across what was threatening to spark into a childish tit-for-tat insult trading game “Ask her tomorrow and then I’ll speak to her mom okay?”

“How will you speak to her mom?” “I’ll call her.” “Do you have her number?” “No but you can get it for me.” Fliss looked at Mary “Or I’ll come pick you up and catch her at School…” “Stop worrying about stuff…” Frank said exasperatedly “We’ll sort it ok? Now come on, bed!”

Mary stood up and she looked once more at the scan photo “Is it wrong that I already love the baby, like loads?”

“No, it’s not wrong.” Fliss smiled at her.

“I mean know it’s like just my cousin and not my brother or sister or anything but…” Mary trailed off shrugging. “Hey.” Fliss looked at her, frowning slightly as she reached out to tuck Mary’s now quite long hair behind her ear, “It’s not just your cousin. Bean’s gonna be living with you, looking up to you, annoying the hell out of you, following you…and they’re gonne love you, learn from you…you’ll be just the same as a big sister.”

Marry nodded and turned to hug Fliss, then to Frank who pulled her onto his lap, kissing her forehead.

“I know you’re only my Uncle but I really wish you were my dad.” Mary said, her voice quiet. Frank looked at Fliss, swallowing as his girl wore a look on her face that he had no words to describe other than one of utter heartbreak and love as her eyes sprang with tears and he felt his own water.

“Only your Uncle?” he said, his voice cracking as he attempted to make a joke “Charming…” “You know what I mean.” Mary shrugged.

Frank sighed. It was the first time Mary had ever said anything like that to him. She’d made a comment in the past about wishing Fliss was her mom which hadn’t been repeated since. If truth be told, he felt uneasy labelling himself as her father. Granted, a lot of people automatically assumed he was, and if they weren’t people he knew, or would meet again, he didn’t bother correcting them because it wasn’t needed. Fliss had told him time and time again, no matter how much he hated it, he was Mary’s father by-proxy, even if she didn’t call him that, and he got that yes, but he still wanted Mary to know about Diane, even if he had brought her up. For that reason, he would never be referred to as her father, nor would she ever call him Dad, but he’d love her like he was every single day of his life.

“Look…” He sighed, pulling back to look down at her. “I promised I’d always look after you…well, until I get too old and you put me in a nursing home.” at that she laughed a little “Isn’t that what a dad does?”

Mary nodded “Yeah…”

“So what’s really eating you, Stack?” He asked softly, he could see that she wasn’t completely placated.

“When the baby comes…you’re not gonna love me any less are you?” She asked, looking at him.

“Fuck, no!” Frank blurted out, at the same time Fliss exclaimed

“Of course not!”

Frank shook his head “Mary, I couldn’t love you any more if I tried, regardless of whether you were actually my kid or not. And Fliss feels the same.” “Of course I do.” Fliss looked at her

“So please don’t worry about that or think that for a single second, okay?”

“Okay.” She sniffed, before she grinned at Frank “You said the F word.”

“Yeah, well you drove me to it.” he shrugged “And here’s another swear for you. If I ever hear stupid shit like that come outta your mouth again…there’s gonna be real trouble. You have nothing to worry about. I promise you from the bottom of my heart. Lissy too.”

Fliss nodded “I already tell the people I work with when they ask who the girl is on the website that she’s my Mary”

“You do?”

“Course.” she nodded, “Because you are.”

Mary took a deep breath before she nodded “Okay. Can I watch TV in my room for a while?”

Frank sighed “Twenty minutes, max…”

Mary nodded and then looked at him again. “Can I take the photo of Bean for my wall?”

“We were gonna stick it on the fridge, so we can all share it.” Frank looked at her “But tell you what, you take it tonight and then we’ll make a copy for you to keep.”

“Can I take my copy to school?”

“You can stick it on your head for all I care.” Frank shrugged.

“Well that’s just dumb.” She scoffed, hopping down off his knee. Fliss and Frank watched her leave before Frank looked at Fliss, letting out a deep breath.

“Do you think she feels left out, already?” “No.” Fliss said, shaking her head “She’s just a little concerned things are going to change for her, and I understand why Frank. Stuff is gonna change around here, there’s no denying that and it’s going to be strange for her. Especially as she’s had so many changes to put up with over the last eighteen months. You know, she had you to herself for so long and then I turned up, and then I moved in and suddenly there’s a wedding and a baby on the way. It’s happened fast and-“ “Too fast?” Frank looked at Fliss, his face betraying his worry and Fliss shook her head.

“No, not at all. I love you, and I have no doubt I want to spend the rest of my life with you and yes, this baby wasn’t planned but, I’m happy. All I’m saying is that it’s been a huge thing for us, and we’re adults. For an almost nine year old then it’s bound to be overwhelming.” “I just don’t want her to worry about her ever having to leave us again.” he sighed. “Or that I’m gonna replace her with my actual kid…”

“She doesn’t.” Fliss assured him. “Not really. Look, try not to think about it too much okay? Let’s enjoy this you know? It’s scary, really scary, but it’s also exciting!” “Yeah, yeah it is…” Frank smiled and shifted slightly, his hand reaching out to Fliss’ stomach as he placed a tender kiss to her lips.

And right on cue the thunder once more rumbled from Thor’s throat.

**** Chapter 2

[aperrywilliams]

The Right Moment (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist 

———————

Summary: Love confessions doesn't count in Spencer’s strengths. Don't you think?

Word Count: 5010.

Warnings: Curses… is so soft anyway. Fluff.

A/N: I’m so happy. This is my first fic with a beta, so y’all will not suffer with my all writing mistakes of before ones. All the love to the great @imagining-in-the-margins​

——————–

The first time I saw (Y/N), I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing for a few seconds. I could have counted the exact time, but I was so focused on looking at her that I only realized it when I was almost choking on my own breathlessness.

We were all in the conference room waiting for Prentiss to review a new case. She had already notified us a new member would be joining the team, which was a relief considering the amount of cases was getting quite heavy. Even just one more member could be of great help. When the two of them entered the room and Emily began to speak, I lifted my head from the file in front of me.

"Guys, this is the SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She is joining our team since today. (Y/N), meet the SSA Luke Alvez, SSA Tara Lewis, SSA Jennifer Jareau, SSA David Rossi and Dr. Spencer Reid".

Everyone gave their welcome words except me, of course, given my edginess. I just nodded my head in greeting without saying a word. She waved back and quickly sat down to begin reviewing the case.

I couldn't say exactly what was the first thing about (Y/N) that I fell in love with. Perhaps it was her appearance as a determined woman, confident, intelligent, friendly, and very nice. She looked like those kinds of people who are able to fill a room with their mere presence. It wasn't long before my hypotheses about her were confirmed. Indeed, the entire team loved her immediately. She was the first person to say hello to Penelope in the mornings. She teased Luke as she passed by his desk, and bonded quickly and closely with JJ, Tara, and Emily. Rossi loved her too, especially at dinners at his house, where (Y/N) was always the first to compliment the chef.

And me? Well, it wasn't long until we became best friends. She was one of the few people who didn't bother or interrupt my ramblings. There were many times we had to make geographical profiles and visit crime scenes together; clearly not very romantic things. But the time we spent together was growing both inside and outside work. In our rare free time, we would go for a walk or watch a series sitting on the couch at her place or mine.

Those were the moments where I felt I fell more and more in love with her. For a long time, I tried to push those thoughts away by telling myself that it was something platonic, that it was the attraction of someone with a very different personality than mine. I tried to convince myself that eventually, the infatuation would pass and our friendship would persist. But seeing how the months passed and the feeling didn’t subside, I began to sink into despair within myself. I tried not to feed myself any hope.

(Y/N) was leading her life very well and I fit perfectly as the best friend – just that. Someone to trust and a shoulder to cry on. I tried to convince myself having her around was more than enough for me, even if there was no romantic interest from her.

"Do you know what it’s called? The Friendzone." Emily said to me one day after I had to confess my feelings towards (Y/N) to someone. A somewhat forced confession, since the whole team knew it already without me saying a word. It sure was printed on all my face.

"Whatever your name it, I’ll never get out of there". I replied with a shrug.

"But why don't you tell her? You should be honest with her about this, Spencer. You’re friends. You trust each other, right?" Emily inquired, trying to awaken some courage in me to express my feelings to the woman herself.

"Tell her? No, of course not. Our relationship would become weird. I don't want that.” I replied with a shake my head.

"How do you know if isn’t mutual? You two spend a lot of time together, and I've seen how you seeing each other. Maybe she also likes you." Emily was a very good FBI agent, but not the best cupid. There was no point in what she was saying to me. Friends can also spend a lot of time together. That doesn't mean anything.

"Of course it is not reciprocal! Two days ago, she told me she had a date with Tim Robertson from Organized Crime and she was 'excited.'” I emphasized the word ‘excited’ by making the quotes marks with my fingers.

"Uh-oh" she replied with that 'oh poor boy' look. “Spencer, eventually you’ll have to do something. Love is not going to disappear spontaneously.”

I only took a deep breath and drop the subject, but I kept thinking about Prentiss’ words. Was I meant to be the eternal friend? Statistics were not on my side: Studies show that if a man over 30 invites his female friend to dinner on a weekend, only 40% of women will likely consider it a date. But if the invitation is made by a non-friend male, the odds increase to 85%. If a woman is the one inviting her male friend, she is more likely he considered it as romantic date, because men are more frequently to consider everything as a date. Conclusion: I have no chance.

I felt more defeated when (Y/N) told me one day that she was now regularly dating Robertson. The boldest thing I asked her was if she liked him. She confessed to me it was ‘very likely.’

As the weeks passed, the cases came and were resolved. (Y/N) didn't spend as much time with me outside of work anymore. She had a formal relationship with the... guy... from Organized Crime. At this point not even the 'friendzone' comforted me, because I also felt I was losing my friend. What did that lead me to? Frustration. Anger. Introversion. Everything very Spencer Reid style.

One day flying back from a case, (Y/N) sat at the front of me and looked at me with concern, as I plunged into a book.

"Spencer, is something wrong?" she asked, leaning down and resting her hands on the table between us.

"Uhm? No. I'm fine." I replied, barely looking at her.

"Spencer, I know you..."

Oh, how I hate people think I’m an open book and everyone feel free to say they know me!... Even if they are right! For God’s sake!

"Are you upset with me?... You have barely spoken to me these days and we haven't sat down to talk for a long time..." She said, taking the book I had in my hands and laying it on the table. Thus, I was forced to look at her.

"No. I'm fine. Totally fine. And if we haven't talked for a long time, it's because you're apparently very busy…” My last comment wasn't very nice, but I couldn't help it.

"Oh, I see." I took my book again and opened it to resume my reading. "You’re jealous of my relationship with Robertson." She stated seriously.

What? Did she know it too? Had the pilot been told, too?

"No. Of course not. Where do you get that from? You can do whatever you please with your life…” I said with the greatest calm that my boiling blood running in my body allowed me.

“You're jealous because I don't spend time with you outside of work anymore. Spencer, honey, you’ll always be a priority for me. It's just I have less time now, you know? We're just starting something,  Tim and I. But I promise not to be one of those women glued to my partner all the time and neglecting my friends". (Y/N) ended her statement by gently stroking my hand over the book I was still holding. I felt relief and defeat at the same time. Clearly, it didn't feel better.

But (Y/N) was genuine to her word. Indeed, she looked for a way to adjust her time with him so we could return to some movie nights on the couch and occasional walks in the park. It felt good to at least fit into her life again. Of course, this had a flip side: knowing how her relationship with Tim Robertson worked, or not. The guy showed clear narcissistic features and although (Y/N) seemed to be aware of that - as the good profiler she was - her infatuation clouded her judgment. I couldn't blame her, either. I just tried to be gentle in my criticisms, but I saw how easily she dismissed them by always excusing him.

One night I was lying on the couch reading. It was close to 2 am when I heard two knocks on the door and a loud sob. I quickly got up to open the door and saw (Y/N) standing in front of me, crying. When she saw me, she threw herself into my arms and cried harder.

"I knew you would be awake..." She murmured with her head buried in my chest. I helped her into the apartment and sat her on the couch.

"Hey, what happened?". I asked in a soft voice so as not to disturb her more than she already was.

"I broke up with Tim..."

And here I was, with my shoulder ready to contain her tears. (Y/N) clung to my neck sobbing and cursing at the same time. It wasn’t the first time I had to witness a love breakup from (Y/N). As I said before, I was her best friend, and that forced me to know things that I often didn't want to hear, but it was only fair. She also was there for me many times. I had also cried on her shoulder and cursed - a bit - at situations that overwhelmed me.

I tried to comfort her by hugging and stroking her back. The sobs subsided over time, and eventually she fell asleep. I tucked some pillows under her head and covered with a blanket. I sat for a moment to watch her while she slept. I would have done anything not to see her this sad. She didn't deserve to be hurt by an idiot like Robertson. She deserved someone who truly loved her, unconditionally. Someone she could trust, who could be always there for her, who made her laugh and comforted her when she was sad.

She needed someone... like me?

I know, it sounds not so humble. But I would be all that for her and more if necessary. Maybe Prentiss was right. Maybe I should be honest and tell her about my feelings. At least I could know if I'd ever have a chance. Well, I would have to try. Here the results.

First Attempt

The next morning I woke up smelling a pleasant scent from the kitchen: freshly brewed coffee. I got up, rubbing my eyes before I saw (Y/N) making breakfast.

"Good Morning. Breakfast is ready!” She gave me a warm smile.

"Hey... you didn't have to bother with breakfast." I replied in a raspy voice due to the disuse as I slept. "How do you feel?" I hastened to ask.

"Like I broke up with my boyfriend. But it's okay. It'll okay.” (Y/N) said, giving a deep sigh. I approached the counter where she was while she passed me two plates ready with pancakes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, placing the plates on the table and sitting in one of the chairs. She got two mugs with coffee and sat across from me.

"The usual; men who end up being assholes. The initial spark’s gone. The end.” She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. "You know my taste in men follows an evident pattern, right?" (Y/N) stated with a sad smile.

"Maybe you need to double check your parameters and change it..." I said, testing the waters before I dove in. I didn't know what kind of reaction to expect, but she burst out laughing.

"I've thought about it – don't think I don’t. But bad habits are persistent.” She answered me as she cut her pancakes before popping a piece in her mouth.

"You could try at least..." Bringing out a confidence I thought I didn't have, I dared to take her hand over the table. She looked at me curiously.

"Do you think so? I honestly think I’m meant to be a total failure in love, always.” She told me with a grimace.

“I think you need a guy who understands you. A guy that’s there for you when you need him. Someone you can trust…” I didn’t know whether to persist with the description so as not to sound... too self-referential?

“But that's what I have you for, Spence. You are all that to me. That's why you are my best friend.” She said, squeezing my hand and smiling at me. I held my breath for a second and tried to continue.

"Perhaps... I could be more than that, more than a just..." I couldn't finish my idea because our phones started ringing. We had a case. End of conversation.

Fate: 1, Reid: 0.

Second Attempt

After a hard case that had us seconds from emotional overflow, Penelope had the wonderful idea we should go to a bar to 'drown' our frustrations. Hanging out with the team is always a good thing, although the idea of a bar never seemed entirely appealing to me.

Of course, I usually ended up being the designated driver since my alcohol consumption was minimal or nil. That night was no exception. Sitting with Rossi and Luke, I heard them talk about their love experiences as I watched the dance floor where Emily, Penelope, Tara and (Y/N), with high levels of alcohol in their blood, danced as if the world were to end in that moment. Rossi and Luke’s voices sounded distant to me. I could only focus on how (Y/N) moved on the dance floor and how I wished I could touch her... and kiss her... and...

"Reid? Reid!" Luke's voice brought me out of my fantasy. Not even in my own mind could I have in peace! Not even a single damn fantasy with (Y/N).

"Uhm?" I replied by inertia.

"I was asking you if you agreed with what Rossi said..." He asked. I wasn't even listening.

"Eh. Yeah. Sure. He has more experience… in everything.” I guess that answer was enough for the moment. "I'm going to get something else to drink". I said, getting up and walking to the bar. On my way I looked again to (Y/N), who kept dancing sensually with the others.

My emotional and sexual frustration by now was killing me. I gestured to the bartender for another soda. Focused on my own misery I didn't realize when (Y/N) gave me a gentle knock in the ribs with an elbow.

“Hey Reid! Don't tell me you're going to drink alcohol…”. (Y/N) joked.

"No, just a soda. You know I'm the designated driver today…” I replied as I nervously tapped the surface of the bar with my fingers. (Y/N) in her obviously drunken state suddenly hung her arms around my neck.

“Sorry Reid, always… always… you end up being our watchman. You can't even have some funnnnn…” She sighed, resting her head on my chest.

"It's okay. Seeing you all drunk to the bone can also be some fun.”. I replied, daring to take her waist to prevent her from slipping to the floor. She sighed again.

"I think... I don't feel okay... oh my… I'm feeling drowned… Spencer, I feel sick… I’m very dizzy … I feel like… ”

"Come, let's go out for some air. That’ll make you feel better."

We left through one of the back doors of the bar. Once outside, the fresh air made (Y/N) feel somewhat more restored. "Better?" I asked her.

"Yeah… I guess. But despite how drunk I’m… because I know… I’m soooo drunk… It isn’t pleasant to see that couple fucking on that wall...".I looked in the direction of her finger pointing a wall and the couple there didn't even bother acknowledging our presence. I must say some envy awoke in me. I took (Y/N)'s hand and led her further away from the alley before I pointed to the sidewalk and we sat down.

"Now we don't have to look at them." I told her. (Y/N) nodded. Breathing more coolly, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and smiled.

"Thanks Spencer. I don't know why you have such patience with me…” Oh boy. The emotional moment of (Y/N). Despite that, my love didn’t give up even a single millimeter.

"You don’t have to thank me. That's why we’re… friends, right?” I replied, barely outlining a smile.

"Yes. But… I don't know… you are always beyond that… I feel like I don't deserve you Spencer…” Her sobs began to mix with hiccups.

“For you (Y/N), I’ll do everything I can. Always”. I said it in a sincere tone. I never expected after having said that, that she would throw herself towards me and start kissing me. After the initial stun, my head began to wonder if that was okay.

Her drunken state told me that it was wrong, but it felt so good to have her lips on mine - ignoring the smell of alcohol, of course. It only lasted a few seconds. She pulled away quickly, as if a wave of sobriety hit her abruptly.

"Sorry! ... Spencer, I’m sorry!... I didn't want..." She started to stutter and cry at the same time.

"Hey, no... don't apologize. It’s okay…” I tried to calm her down.

"I don’t know what happened... I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable..." She kept stammering, hiccupping and waving her hands in the air.

"It’s okay (Y/N), I don’t feel uncomfortable... Matter of fact, it’s the opposite." I was going to tell her; I couldn't take it anymore.

"No?..." Her confused face in another context would have made me laugh, but in that moment I was too busy being nervousing about confessing my love to a drunk woman.

"Well…". I took her hands and started stroking them gently. "For a long time I wanted to tell you... and I know we are friends, but I would like..." I had to clear my throat again. "What I mean (Y/N), is I love..."

Unable to finish the sentence, (Y/N) suddenly leaned into my lap, letting out an explosive puke on me. A second followed... and then a third.

The next day all she remembered was the dance floor, and the fact she emptied her stomach on me.

Third Attempt

I hate cases where unsubs try to escape. That always means a chase, and dramatically increases the probability of someone getting hurt. It was in Alabama, and the unsub had hidden himself in a barn. (Y/N) and I stepped in with our flashlights and weapons in search of him. J.J. and Luke were in the backup group.

What we didn’t expect was the bastard climbing onto an attic with his gun pointed at us. When I lit up his face with my flashlight and pointed at him with my gun, I only managed to shout "Stop! FBI!” before I heard a shot in my direction.

I felt a burning and intense pain near my face before falling to the floor. With another shot, (Y/N) struck him in the chest and the unsub fell to the floor.

Oh God, my body hurt a lot. I felt the blood run down my shoulder. The bastard had shot me in the neck! I was going to die in a filthy barn and without having ever declared my love to (Y/N). She quickly knelt down and tried to locate the source of the blood, pressing her hand to my wound.

"We need medics here!" She yelled frantically. I felt dizzy, and (Y/N)’s voice was further and further away.

Was I really going to die there? At least if that was going to happen, I had to tell her. "(Y/N) ..." I said to get her attention.

“No, no… no… don't speak Spencer, keep your eyes open, but don't speak. The paramedics are coming. Come on, squeeze my hand!"

"I have to tell...".I tried to speak but between the dizziness and the pain, I had trouble articulating words.

"Spencer, please. Listen to me. You're going to be fine… everything will be okay.” She tried to reassure me.

"I... love you..." I managed to say, trying to look her in the eye. She looked at me tenderly.

I said it! I said it! I could die in peace now, couldn’t I?

"Spencer, honey..." She said while stroking my hair. I closed my eyes and the paramedics came to check me. One of them asked (Y/N) what happened and how I was doing. She summed up the incident and finished off by saying between sobs, “Please do something. He is dying. He even started to rave."

Fuck!

Then I fell passed out and I don't remember anything else.

The Summary

I could keep on listing the times when I tried to tell her. None of them seemed to be the right moment. And when it did seem to be, something happened. Destiny definitely didn’t want my confession to come to light. So okay, I thought, maybe I should just keep it to myself forever.

One morning, I stepped in the conference room with my usual coffee in hand. There were Luke, Emily, Penelope, Tara, JJ and (Y/N). The conversation was about the latest BAU girls' night. I sat down, taking one of the files settled on the table and starting to leaf through it.

"No! In defense of (Y/N), I must say she was as calm as we were at the table when the guy approached to her.” Tara said.

"Ah, so there was no flirting?" Luke asked.

"Hey! Who do you think I am, Luke? We were there for girls' night, not to catch lovers." (Y/N) replied laughing.

"Of course, they didn't stop looking at each other all night..." Stated JJ with a giggle.

"No JJ! I don't know who you were looking at, but it wasn't me." (Y/N) defended herself. The conversation was inherently awkward for me at that point. I silently didn’t take my eyes off the file in my hands.

"Well, even if she did it, (Y/N) is a free woman and could have run away with whoever she wanted, right?" Luke had a point and that made my blood boil. I'm sure Prentiss noticed.

"Okay, but nothing happened in the end. The guy left and we kept drinking. And here we are, safe and sound.” Prentiss summarized, trying to end the conversation. My hands were sweating, and I looked sideways at (Y/N) who was giggling nervously. Prentiss was probably lying just because I was there.

“Oh yeah, but just before leaving he slipped you a piece of paper with his phone number. I'm sure you saved it in your contacts and called him later!” Penelope said directly to (Y/N), who didn't say anything back. Okay. I was fed up. This conversation had to end at that very moment. I closed the file and dropped it on the table with all the force of my frustration. I got up from the chair, clenching my fists and saying "Enough!" with my jaw clenched. Everyone in the room froze and stared at me in astonishment. Prentiss was the first to react.

"Okay, Luke, Tara, JJ Penelope... to my office. Now." Emily quickly left the room and the rest following her almost instantly. (Y/N) looked confused as the group left, then fixed her eyes on me.

"Spencer?... what's going on ?"

In silence, I closed the door of the room and leaned my back on it, crossing my arms over my chest looking at (Y/N). "You okay?"

"Not. I'm not okay. This is driving me insane.” I said, uncrossing my arms and scratching the back of my neck.

"Tell me, what's going on? Maybe I can help..." (Y/N) tried to get up from the chair to approach me.

"Just don't say anything, okay? I just need you to listen to me, and I need no one and nothing to interrupt me this time.” Just as a precaution I locked the door. (Y/N) opened her eyes with concern.

"Spencer, you're scaring me..." I just stared at her as she remembered I told her not to speak. "I’m sorry..."

“I'm going to start at the end, to make sure you hear it well. Okay?” I cleared my throat and continued speaking. “I love you (Y/N), I've loved you since practically the first day that you walked through this same door with Emily. And no, this goes beyond our friendship. Of course, I love being your friend. But that is no longer enough for me. Every time I see a man in your life, I feel something burning inside me. It hurts me deeply to see you suffer for some idiot who doesn't deserve you. I can’t take it anymore. I tried to tell you so many times, I think I’ve lost count. But if you never even considered the possibility, then I can't do anything else.

You don't even remember that you kissed me outside a bar! When I told you that I loved you while almost dying in a dirty barn, you thought I was delusional! Every time... every single time I thought I gave you signs, you either didn't see them or you didn't care. I don't know what hurts me the most, your blindness or your indifference. You’re a profiler like me! How is it possible that you never…? Damn it (Y/N)! The thing is, I can't live with this stuck inside me anymore. And I'm sorry if telling you all this ends up ruining our friendship, but not being honest with you seems so much worse now. And... and... since I told you this, I think you can go on with your day... Goodbye".

I pulled the lock and opened the door to leave the room. After my confession/outburst, I didn't even dare make eye contact with (Y/N). I was about to cross the threshold when one of (Y/N) 's hands slammed it shut again. I turned around and (Y/N)'s arms wrapped around my neck before she lifted on her feet and collapsed her lips against mine. My first reaction was to raise my hands and smash my back against the door. Stupid reaction, I don't even know why I did it.

That didn't stop (Y/N), who gripped my hair to keep our mouths together. Realizing what was happening, I took her by the waist and brought her as close as possible to me, emptying all my accumulated frustration into that kiss. I don't know how long we were like this.

Okay, yeah, I really do know. It was 2 minutes and 45 seconds. After that time, we both pulled away because we could hardly breathe.

"Wow... (Y/N)... what ...?" I tried to articulate some coherent phrase, but nothing else came out.

"Now you are going to listen to me." She said as she began to play with my tie between her fingers. “First of all: neither blindness nor indifference. Denial only. Spencer... I'm clear on all the times you tried to tell me. Really, even before I broke up with Robertson. Since the time we talked on the jet and I asked you if you were mad at me. I just wanted to deny it all this time. It’s stupid, I know, but I didn't want to hurt you. I was scared I would hurt you if I crossed that border of our friendship. And yes, I also remember the night at the bar. And when you got shot in the barn. I must insist, it was all to deny myself the possibility.

And here comes the second: I did it because I... I love you too. I have for a long time. Why didn't I do anything about it...? Well, it’s kind absurd now I think about it. I did nothing because I was afraid of ruining it. All my relationships end in disaster and I didn’t want that to happen to you. And if that meant locking myself out of the possibility of going further, I was willing to do that so I wouldn’t lose you…”

This time it was I who connected my lips with hers. It felt so good, so soft, and so warm. Not even my best dreams could compare to it. When we pulled back to catch our breath, we looked at each other and started talking at the same time.

"I’m so sorry Spencer... I never wanted you to feel like this..."

"I was waiting for the right moment..."

"If I knew how to compensate you for this..."

"(Y/N), if I had known..."

“What the hell Spencer, why we are so bad at our job…”

"We are the worst ... we should resign..." We both started laughing.

"Come here, Reid." She said, taking one of my hands and pulling me into a hug. "Could you forgive me for making you suffer all this time?"

She didn't need to ask me that. I would do anything for her.

"I let you puke on me... 3 times in one night. I think that exceeds all tolerance limits on my part, don't you think?"

She started to laugh, stifling the noise on my chest. It felt so good to have her this close, to be able to touch her.

"I love you (Y/N), so much." I said, stroking her cheeks and looking at her almost without blinking.

"I love you too Spencer. My friend, my partner… and now, my lover.” She replied, winking at me.

"Hey, that last one you still owe me... with interest due to all the time that’s already passed."

"Don’t worry, honey, you just have to hold on for a few more hours, and I assure you that we will catch up quickly".

———————

[theinvisibledreamergirl]

Has everything changed? (Part two)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Klaw Craig)

Word count: ~2.5k

Category: Angst but in the end... you’ll see it 😉

A.N: This is the second and the last part for this fic. Thank you so much for taking your time reading these bullshits of mine❤️ and then for everyone waiting OH AU 1 the next fic is called “Friendship questioned”. Hope you enjoy this!

MASTERLIST

PART ONE

————————————————

She wanted now to escape from this building as if that kind of air was blocking her lungs. A cup of lemon tea would somehow release the tension in her shoulders.

At Derry Roasters everyone were talking about the same topic with new faces appeared in front of her. Interns chatting excitedly about their first day and cursing their attendees for the anxious hours they spent until now.

She let a smirk to herself remembering the first day when she was an intern. A rebel one and didn’t even have to spare a glance to the man whom she hated the most. She was so clueless about him that only knew his name but not his face.

You can say she was the only intern who got the attention of Dr. Ramsey after a decade and no one could replace her.

The interns eyed her incredulously as if they were seeing a miracle whispering to each other.

“It’s her!”

“Shush dude she doesn’t like gossiping.”

“She’s so fucking gorgeous!”

“Damn lucky whoever is with her!”

“It’s Dr. Ramsey.”

“Really?”

“They’re such a power couple!”

“Hm. I wonder if they’ll invite us to their weeding.”

“Matt shut up or she’s going to hear us and I don’t want to have any bones broken!”

“Fine fine.”

She took a seat at the corner of the bar facing the window in her left.

This was their place.

The place where they felt themselves and out of the real world.

He would be opposite her smiling and telling his stories as a troublemaker teenager or how his father would always get angry after another defeat in the chess game.

Or how he would touch and kiss her hand bringing closer to him.

Or how she would scold him to not do anything publicly and he still didn’t give a damn what the others would say.

She really wanted to relive these moments so much but her logical side told her he was wrong and he had to apologise.

Whereas the feeling side... told her to go and kiss him and tell him that it was just a temporary weakness and that she loves him.

While she was sipping her tea relishing a sigh a soft voice distracted her.

“So British of you.”

She chuckled while placing the tea to the plate. “You’re not British if you don’t drink a cup of tea.”

“I highly agree with that. And you’re not American if you don’t drink an espresso.”

Both women shared a laugh when Harper Emery took a seat opposite her.

“Soo... how’s the first day going?”

“Really Harper? Just say what you want. I know this look of yours.” She knew what she came for and didn’t want to skip it like nothing had happened. Even though she sounded harsh Harper only let a gentle smile.

“Fine I just wanted to ease this conversation a bit but it looks like I have a long talk with you little miss.”

“If he has sent you here don’t even try.” She said nonchalantly bringing back the tea to her lips.

“Correction: he didn’t and I don’t think he would.”

He wouldn’t? Of course what did you expect.

“I came here because I wanted to talk with you Klaw. As friends.”

“What makes you think you can change?”

Mini Ethan. Stay strong Harper.

“Well let’s just say that I have this instinct of mine that what I want to achieve- it will be achieved. I know it’s sounds cliche but I’ve never failed in this path.”

“Keep going then.”

“Look Klaw... I think the real problem is not you or him. It’s you both against the problem.” She eyed her curiously.

“The problem is Leland and it’s dragging you both into a black hole till you fall and no one’s going to help you. What you need to understand is that Bloom is trying to provoke us and to see who’s going to be on his side. What Ethan agreed wasn’t because he is on Bloom’s side. He agreed because-“

“That was the only way he said.” Klaw replied in frustration while reminiscing his court voice on her mind.

“Tone, please?” Harper arched an eyebrow.

Gosh they’re both the same.

“Sorry.” She murmured while her gaze was falling on her nails ripping the cuticles.

“As I was saying he only agreed because he knew that even he would do the contrary, Bloom wouldn’t listen to him anyway without asking us because this is his character and is unpredictable. Ethan is taking this calmly but do not forget- he will always be on your side. Yes he’s really mad with you because of your lack of control against your emotions and of not showing professionalism. But he is wrong too for treating you as someone foreign and not considering as your colleague and not rethinking that not always you will agree in everything.”

Harper was thinking if this could work for both of them because she wanted to help as much as she could and also couldn’t see them separated from each other.

“Or if I make it simple- just fucking go and get him already!”

“I don’t think that would be simple. He said if I don’t get my shit back then there’s no way I could step in the team.”

“And you think with such a weak and useless threat of him you’re not going to talk about this? Bullshit. This is the perfect moment to say the apology because if not- you’re going to be very late and you’ll lose him.”

“But this is not actually what hurt him.” Harper frowned in confusion while Klaw’s eyes started to well up.

“I offended him Harper. I said that... that he doesn’t care about me even though I know he cares! He does...a lot but... I’ve really messed this thing up and I’m worried about facing him.” She gulped while putting her palms behind her neck. “I can’t do this. How am I supposed to look him in the eye Harper? I know he is right now really tired of this behaviour of mine and has tried his best to push me and to seal this bad sided woman you’re talking to! Ethan has been a careful, supportive and kind to me in many ways that I can’t explain. Whereas I...” she let a scoff. “I’ve been nothing but only bragging about everything and not be the best girlfriend he wants.”

Harper Emery was lucky to know someone as Klaudia Craig because not only she had been a great shoulder to lean on for everyone but also has been a great person to her.

She would always be in a debt for making Aurora speak and standing up for herself in her intern year and to show what a mistake she did by underrating her niece for her achievements.

And here she was now- confessing her feelings such beautifully for a man whom she loves most and if she was in her place... No.

It was clearly that this woman was the only spark who could give light in Ethan’s darkness and the contrary.

They were both meant for each other.

“Then all of these things you said to me-“ She leaned her palm giving hers a gentle squeeze. “- you should say to him. Whatever happens. I think he will listen to you.”

“You think so?”

“Hey. I’m a neurosurgeon and this the dumbest question ever raised by you Dr. Craig.”

Klaw let a weary chuckle. “Okay. Let’s see if the grumpy man wants to talk with the grumpy woman.”

“That’s my girl.”

—————————

Her steps lead her to the Diagnositics Office and far from the corner she could see there was no one inside. So the only place he could be was...

Hospital’s gym.

She could hear some hard breathing and panting while kickboxing in a big arena. He was wearing his loosely T-shirt and his sport’s boxers that fit perfectly his shape of the body.

Every movement he did and his focused gaze to the training made her head tilt in a wander that how was possible this man could be such sexy.

And how she was so lucky that he was hers.

Or that’s what she thought.

“Ethan!” She called behind him but it seemed he didn’t hear her as he was having his headphones on clearly listening to his rap music. She tried again. “Ethan Jonah Ramsey!”

No answer again. “Is he fucking kidding me or what? I’ll show him.”

She entered the ring arena rapidly and when she was just about to call him again unexpectedly was twirled in his arms, her back facing chest. She gasped and felt her breath hitched. What now?

“Well look who made it here.”

“I...”

“What the hell do you want Rookie?” He growled on her left ear.

Her lips trembled despite her efforts to not cry in front of him. “I’m sorry.”

He sensed her change of tone and turned her back to face him.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I know that I’m really such a bad bitch when it comes to these situations but I want you to know that I love you and I don’t want us to have these debates ever again because I know that always screw the things up... I ALWAYS RUIN IT!” Her last words flinched him when she punched his shoulder in anger and couldn’t see her in this broken state.

“No. I ruined it.” He admitted. “I know I shouldn’t even think about what you considered Harper at first because I know you weren’t jealous about her and still I thought it-” he let a weary chuckle “-and you never fail to be right about that. And I know I shouldn’t treat you as someone who wasn’t part of the team and I’m sorry if I made you doubt about yourself.”

He pulled her closer giving her the kiss she deserved but she backed off saying. “No more fights?”

He gave her the brightest smile. “No more.” She smiled too and felt his soul completely in peace. “Now Miss Craig-” he held his right hand to her. “-would you like to be my companion for tonight’s gala?”

She giggled and cleared her throat. “How can I refuse it Mister Ramsey?”

———————————————-

After two hours at Ethan’s apartment.

“I seriously can’t believe we’re going to that fucking party.” She was strapping her high heels frustratingly then got up while Ethan was doing his buttons of his sleeves looking at the mirror.

“Relax Rookie. Just put a fake smile and chat about medicine as doctors usually do.”

She scoffed while reaching to do his tie. “How can you be such calm? I expected you to be furious just like me.”

“Well unlike you ma’am I have a master’s degree that I’ve held for eleven years for being talkative, social and well respected diagnostician.” He let a smirk when she quirked her left eyebrow.

“I totally agree with the last one but I highly doubt about the first two y’know.”

He pressed her body closely to him, his eyes looking intensely into her dark brown. “And may I know why you’re doubting Dr. Craig?”

Instead of making it as a casual chat she turned it to something else. “About everything.” He got the message when she lowered her gaze playing mindlessly with the buttons of his lapel jacket. “I mean- what’s going to happen later Ethan? Some things have changed and we already are aware of it but...” She pressed her lips.

“But?”

“For how long? What if Bloom will try his tactics again to track another doctor and if there’s going to be someone else- who knows? I’m scared Ethan. What if this is the end of all of us? What if we lose our jobs for nonsense reasons?”

“I know. I’m worried about it too and I have absolutely no idea where this is going to take us. But one thing’s for sure.”

She let his hands cup her cheeks meeting with his face.

“No one...not even Bloom can tell us to back off from what is right. We will continue our mission, Naveen’s mission and we will always do it for the sake of the Oath. Don’t lose the confidence you have and all your thoughts even when they’re wrong. I’ve told you since the first day of your residency last year. It is not wrong to ask questions ‘cause if you didn’t well I would be very concerned. I know you say that you trust yourself but I don’t agree with it. So please... don’t overthink it. Let’s just enjoy this night while we can hm?”

His voice was so assuring and there was nothing else she wanted to hear.

The one she fell so hard capturing her in an inevitable trap.

His presence made her entirely safe whenever he gave a smile just like now with his eyes reflecting on hers like a magnet.

She wanted to stay there forever.

In his arms.

In his heart.

He seemed to notice it and kissed her forehead while she was closing her eyes.

“You always calm me down. How the hell you do this Rams’?”

“You’re not the only one with skills here lil girl.” She scrunched her nose when he tipped with his index finger. “Now I think we should leave before we are too late.”

“Actually...” She bit the corner of her lip. “Can we please not go? I don’t want to see that big rat blooming all the way up.” She pleaded while shrugging her right shoulder crossing her arms on her back.

“Klaw you can’t be serious.” When he saw her expression he scoffed before pointing his finger. “You’re too late to anything else because we’re dressed now for that occasion. Many doctors will be there and then is goin-.”

She grabbed instantly the back of his neck silencing him with a kiss. “Will you repeat that again doctor?”

“Not now Klaw-”

She kissed him again pinning him to the wall then whispering in a sultry voice.

“Wrong answer doctor. I’ll propose this- we’ll get the best scotch from Reggie and then buy some Calzones while we are enjoying the starry night that only the Boston’s sky can give us. Completely alone. Just the two of us. So...what do you say? I think it’s an opportunity of a lifetime.” She winked.

He sighed while looking up in the ceiling as if searching for help in his defeat. She loved making him at this state.

At her command.

“How the hell do you convince me Craig?”

“Well you’re not the only one with skills here old man.” She squeezed his cheeks while he was frowning. “Aww you’re so cute and you look like a fish doing ‘o’!”

He spoke or better tried to mumble the words. “I’m mnot olf man and I’m mnot ffsh!”

“Yeah yeah that’s why you can’t use the Instagram correctly.” She giggled when couldn’t contain her laughter anymore then took his hand leading them to the door. “Now shall we go because I’m really starving and we won’t make it home earlier.”

“True. We won’t make it home until the morning.”

He gave her a known devilish grin while he was unlocking the door that made her eyes go wide, her heartbeats accelerate and gulped hardly.

He winked.

Damn it.

This was going to be a very long night ahead of them.

—————————————————

TAGS WILL APPEAR IN A REBLOG!

[twisted-leader-of-something]

Week 1 - Classic Horror - The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Author’s Note: Happy October everyone! Here is my promised start of TWST Halloween 2021! Starting off with a classic story, the story of Jekyll and Hyde, one of my favorite psychological horror/thriller books! It may not be super well-known, but it’s well known in the old literature community as most likely one of the first psychological stories about the human condition! So, as celebration of the story I love so much, I will be putting a spin on the classic tale with my OC Quentin! I hope I did the story of Jekyll and Hyde some justice!

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of death and rape, and an ending that. . . Is kind of ambiguous. 

Crow’s Dusk is a quiet town. 

It’s always been that way, ever since I moved into this small town with my spouses. 

I’ve always loved this small town. Despite the fact it’s mostly divided into eight parts and everyone mostly keeps to their part of town, it’s often so calm and quiet in this town, you can take a stroll at night, meet someone new without being afraid of being killed, and meet them again the next day at one of the many schools in this town and become friends. It’s so much different than my home where being murdered was a very real threat.  

For the most part, this town doesn’t stand out compared to others that make national news for things like plagues or mass murders despite this small town holding some of the most advanced schools in the country. Sure, we have bar fights that our police gave up on cracking down on, a church whose not really all that serious about it’s work, and celebrities that stop by the town so often or live here that I can call most of them by name. Hell, a world-famous actor came by my house the other day to ask for more sugar and flour and I called him by his first name and offered a drink at the bar next time I saw him.

It’s quite strange, thinking about this town in the grand scheme of things, really.

We’re all so different, and yet, we live in the same area.

It almost makes me-

“Quentin, darling?” Eadwine called from the balcony in a white shawl covering her nightgown.

“Yes, Eadwine, my love?” I called back, walking back to her.

“You’re still dressed, dear. Come inside, it’s almost midnight.” Eadwine pouted in that cute way she always did when she was worried, as she came and took my shawl that I wore. “Have you slept at all?”

“Forgive me. I just was clearing my head after an meeting.” I must’ve said, guilty, as she pouted more.  

“Geez. I swear, they keep you so late.” Eadwine said, opening the door to our home and putting my shawl on the rack. “I might have to go to a meeting myself to see what all those late night meeting are about.”

“Well, you know the council, paranoid as always.” I sighed, as I followed Eadwine to the kitchen. “At least I have no paperwork this time.” 

“With all these incidents happening, I almost don’t blame them for their worries, my loves.” Another familiar voice chimed in, and sooner after, I felt a warm kiss on the forehead. “I’m glad you got home safe, Quentin my dear. I was getting worried.”

“Indeed.” I smiled as best as I could at him. “I am home. And can eat some wonderful food instead of food from the bar.”

“Then, let’s go eat.” Eadwine smiled. “The fireplace is still going. You can tell me all about the meeting while we cuddle!”

“Yes, yes. No time to waste.” I joked, as I was guided to out living room by the loves of my life.

There was knock at the door. Strange, the paper came in a few hours ago, it wasn’t the milkman or mailman, way too late for them. 

Who was it at this early in the morning? 

“Ah, yes, coming!” I called, and opened the door to see. . . Epel Felmier. “Epel? What’s the matter?”

“Is Quentin up?” Epel asked very seriously, panting and out of breath. 

“Yes, she went to visit the asylum to check on the patients, as she normally does in the morning.” I said, “Why?”

Epel seemed relieved, tried to get inside the house. “I need to use your phone, right now.”

“Epel, please tell me what’s happening!” I said, preventing him from getting inside. “You can’t just say that and expect me to not ask any questions!”

“I can’t.” Epel said, trying to push past me. “Vil said this isn’t something I say to just anyone. It needs to be to council members only.”

“Well you know, so I’d say that’s off the table.” I said, sternly while holding my ground. “You clearly know! Just tell me!”

Epel seemed so surprised he stopped trying to push past me, blinked a few times. 

“Fine.” He said, stopping trying to push past me. “But we have to be inside and you have to swear to me not to say a word about this.”

I nodded. “Alright.” And I move aside, letting Epel in. 

So, after I sat him down and started to make tea right in front of him, I simply asked. “So, what’s the matter?”

“Old man Crowley’s been murdered.” 

“What?” I said, almost dropping the cup I was preparing for Epel. “I’m sorry, are you serious?”

“Yeah.” The lavender haired boy said. “He was found by Yuu while walking Grim.”

“I-I see.” I simply said, giving him his cup that he took and took a drink of.

Crowley’s been killed? 

Why?

Who would do such a thing? This town- It’s so quiet and peaceful. Nobody really hates anyone else. Sure, we fight with each other, but we make up soon after. It’s impossible to not in such a small town.

Who would be so mad that they would kill Old Man Crowley?

“Mrs. Eadwine?” Epel asked.  

“Sorry. I’m just so shocked. It’s just. . . It seems so strange in a town like this.” I said, as I stood up, fixed my dress. “Yes, you can use the phone. This way.”

“Thank you.” Epel said, as he followed me to the kitchen, but upon seeing a steak I’d made last night. He stood there, watching the steak. I stopped upon noticing, “Do you want it? It will take a few moments for me to get Quentin.”

To which Epel’s face light up, showing a genuine smile I haven’t seen from him yet. “’Eally Ed-wine? ‘Ank you!” He smiled, as he took the meat for himself, and after a few seconds, he seemed embarrassed. “A-Ah. Sorry about that. Got a little to excited there. Where are the cutlery?”

I laughed because of his cuteness, and pointed to the drawer he was standing in front of “Right below you.”

Which earned another smile and a ‘thank you’ from Epel as I picked up the phone, and put in the number to the asulyum. 

“Yes, this is Dusk Asylum. How can I help you?” A voice on the other side said. I didn’t know this person, nor did I quite care. 

“I’m Quentin Nighty-Sallow’s wife, Eadwine Nighty-Sallow. I need to speak with her right now.”

“Huh? I mean, yes, I can do that as Quentin is free right now, but what is the matter?” The other person on the other side asked. “It’s not often you call.”

“Something has come up in our family. And I need to tell Quentin about it.” I said, which seemed to make the other person on the other side of the line stay quiet for a few minutes but simply make a ‘hmph.’ noise. 

“Alright. Please wait a few minutes. I’ll be right back.” The person said, and sure enough, soon after the person came back. “Here she is.”

“Eadwine?” Quentin concerned voice made me soften for a moment. Her voice full of concern. . . It’s so. . . motherly it makes me want to be in her warm, loving embrace so badly. “What’s the matter?”

“Epel needs to speak with you. It’s urgent.” I said, making sure to be serious. 

Quentin was silent for a few minutes. “Is he with you?”

“Yes. I’ll hand it over to him.” I said, and made a gesture to Epel to make him come over. He did, and then he took the phone as I stood to the side, making sure to give the two space to speak, but close enough if Epel needed me he could see me. 

The conversation was actually quite short. Epel’s side of the conversation went something like this, “Good afternoon Mrs. Quentin. . . Yes, it is wonderful to hear from you, it’s been so long, but unfortunately I didn’t come to talk, I’m actually here for Vil. . . Yes. . . No. Old Man Crowley’s been killed. . . And we don’t know who did it but Yuu’s panicking really badly. . . .Yes. . . Yes. . . When can you get off work? . . . Ah? . . . Yes, he did. . . And, yes, I was planning on it, to help out. . . Really?!” Epel’s eyes lit up. “Thanks a lot Mrs. Quentin! I owe you one! I’ll go be with the others, then! Thanks so much!” 

And then he hung up with a smile. 

“Everything alright now?” I asked which earned a nod from Epel. 

“Yes, she said she’d take care of everything and I should go back home for today to rest from that startling revelation and she’ll pull some strings to let me get off school for today so I can be with Yuu and the others. She’s the best!” Epel smiled happily again, to which I nodded. 

“That’s why I married her. Go on.” I smiled. “Go enjoy your day off.”

Epel then nodded, and almost took off out of the house before he stopped. “Ah. Would you mind if we stop by since you, well, know and we have no place else we can be in?”  

I laughed and then nodded again. “No, I do not mind at all. But normally Amiel, Azazel and Quentin all come home around twelve to have lunch with me so I don’t feel alone in this big house all day. I hope you don’t mind if we all have lunch together.” 

Epel shook his head. “No, it’s quite alright. What’s on for lunch?” 

“Amiel asked for breakfast foods since his work has been hard lately. So I was thinking of egg sandwiches since our chickens have been making too many eggs lately.” I smiled, which earned a nod for Epel. 

“I see. Deuce will love it then.” Epel smiled, as he turned back towards the door. “I’ll be back then.” 

I waved to him as I walk towards him, and as soon as Epel left, I waved goodbye. 

“Oh dear. How am I going to make food for eleven people?” I then asked myself, as I closed the door. 

I'd never been to an emergency meeting before.

In a small town like this, meeting happened once a month, if at all that month.

So, to say I was nervous was. . . A bit understating things. Though luckily, I wasn't the only one who was a little nervous about this meeting.

"What? The mayor's dead?" Kalim Al-Asim, the head of the Scarabia district said, as if he wasn't informed.

"Yes. He's been killed." Vil Schoenheit said. "Someone stomped him to death."

"What?!" Riddle Rosehearts said. "How?! How do you stomp a person to death?!"

"You'd be surprised how easy it is for some." Azul Ashengrotto sneered, looking at Leona.

"Shut it Octopus." Leona Kingscholar growled at the mafia man. "Our guys said it wasn't them. They are at the bar when this shit went down."

"Moving on," Vil said. "Yuu and Grim need a home now. And, they said that they saw who it was."

The whole room went silent.

"They saw the person who killed Crowley?" Riddle clarified, which Vil nodded.

"Then who was it?" Ortho Shroud, who was standing in for Idia Shroud spoke up.

"According to Yuu, the person. . . Had really black hair. And didn't even look human." Vil said. "They couldn't even tell if was a boy or a girl."

"Eehhhhh." The group seemed to say.

"That narrows nothing down." Leona said. "We have lots of people with black hair and a black cloak."

"We'll be here all night debating who it is if we keep this up." I spoke up. "I'll take in Yuu and Grim. No matter the case, those two need a new home. My house is pretty big. I'll take them in."

"I figured you'd say that." Vil sighed. "Quentin, we can't tiptoe around this. We need that information."

"I know." I sighed. "But Yuu won't talk if they don't feel safe, plus, there’s no point debating this. We’ll just end up putting someone’s head in a noose without evidence."

Vil sighed again. "Fine. You're the master at this, so I'll trust you on this."

Mrs. Quentin’s Mansion was bigger than I thought it would be. 

Yes, it was rumored that she was pretty rich, but I didn’t think her house was. . . At least three stories high! From how she normally acts, she doesn’t seem to be quite as rich as her house says she is. She even has a fountain and personal gate in front of her house!  

“God, Quentin has a huge house.” Ace Trappola said. “She definitely can house at least you and Grim, if not a good amount of the city comfortably.” 

“I know she’s a world-famous psychologist and a diplomat for a royal family, but, it’s strange seeing her house when Quentin is so different than the other council members who are so stuck up with their money.” Deuce Spade said. 

“Yeah.” Epel Felmier sighed. “But I like her home. It has a homey-feel to it.”

“True.” Ace smirked. “It’s so much better than Section Mayor Rosehearts house. His house is so clean and proper it makes me sick sometimes.”

“Pffft.” Jack Howl laughed. “You should see Section Mayor Kingscholar's place. It puts all the others houses to shame.”

“Master Draconia’s house is the best!” Sebek Zigvolt piped up. 

“Yes, yes. We all know you like Section Mayor Draconia.” Ace sneered, causing Sebek to give a look of shock. 

“What’d you say?!” 

“Oh, there she is.” Das Alvah spoke up, and sure enough, there was a female figure coming towards them. 

A woman with long brown hair, wearing a green and brown dress, surprisingly not so formally dressed. The woman then opened up the gate, letting the young townspeople in. 

“Good afternoon!” The woman smiled. “Welcome to my home! I’m happy you all made it safely!” 

“Thanks for inviting us!” Deuce said, politely seeming rather embarrassed. 

“And thanks for you food~!” Ace smirked, as he walked towards the big house, with a few of my bags in hand. 

“Come now, no need to be polite since we all know each other already, Eadwine just finished lunch. Let’s all eat before it gets cold.” Quentin smiled, and gestured the group to come in. And, the group did and Quentin closed the gate behind the group, and lead the group inside the home. 

“Hey, Mrs. Quentin?” Deuce asked, as the group came inside the home. 

“Yes, what is it Deuce?” Quentin smiled at Deuce and then others.

“Where should we set Yuu and Grim’s stuff?” Deuce said, gestured to the things the others where holding for me. 

“Oh, anywhere is fine, really.” The council member smiled. “Eadwine said she’ll pick it up later.”

“Eh?! Is that really okay?!” Jack said, nervously. “This is your house after all.” 

Quentin laughed. “We’re here to have lunch and hang out together, not to worry about luggage.” 

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Because we can-”

Quentin sighed. “No, no. It’s alright, really. I know my house is pretty far from town and a lot has happened lately, so it must’ve been hard to get here. There’s no need to worry about things like luggage. We’ll take care of it later. For now, let’s eat and relax for a bit.”

“Yeah~!” Ace smiled, as he set down my stuff. “Quentin’s my kind of Council Member!”

“Alright, if you say so.” Deuce said, setting down my stuff with Epel, Jack, Sebek and Das following suit soon after, following Epel to the kitchen. 

"Hey! Amiel! You can't eat all of it!" A masculine voice said. "We have guests coming over!"

"Yeah, so?" Another voice said, as we entered unto the kitchen to see. . . Two men, one with blonde hair, one with dark brown hair. It seems the brown haired man was eating a bunch of food, while two blonde people where trying to stop him. "The chickens will make more!"

"Darlings, please!" A woman with blonde hair said, "The guests are here!"

As soon as the brown haired heard the guests where there, he stopped eating and looked up and upon seeing us, he blinks a few times, and then seems to turn into a prefect gentleman. “Ah! Welcome to our home!” Amiel said. “You must be tired! Come now, let’s all eat!”

The blonde male let out a tired sigh, while the blonde female let out a laugh. Though, it was hard to tell if it was awkward or mischievous in nature. 

“Ah~ Thanks for having us~!” Ace said, as he immediately started to eat some of the food. 

“Ah! Ace! Be polite!” Deuce said.

“Pffft! Not like you don’t want to do the same!” The red-haired boy said while gathering his food, which made the other boy nervous. 

“W-Well, you’re not wrong, but the host is here! Show some respect to them!” Deuce said, as he also started to gather food as well. The others started to follow suit, gathering the food and going into a sunroom, from all the windows in the room. 

And, for the most part, the day was spent in that room. I mean, we did explore Quentin’s house, but the sunroom was the place all of us decided to hang out with in for the day. Surprisingly, Ace, Deuce and the others stayed the night. Despite my insisting they go home, they stayed for dinner and we had a party until late into the night. 

Which, surprisingly, didn’t really affect our school day the next day. 

It became more and more often after the murder of Dire Crowley. 

More murders in the streets at night, but now more was happening during the nights. 

People where being raped by this ‘Figure in Black’ as the town dubbed them, houses where being robbed in the night as people slept with their valuables being destroyed, people being almost kidnapped by the figure, people being beaten in the streets by this figure, all sorts of bad things happening in the small town. At this point, everyone in this town had seen the figure and distrust was blooming like flowers in spring. Sections of the town where divided, gangs where formed in hopes of stopping this person, wearing black was practically forbidden, and rumors where spread of people possibly being suspects. Nooses where tied on trees, hoping the Figure in Black would happen to be nearby and be caught inside one of them. Innocents where being beaten in the streets in hopes of someone being caught. 

It was getting terrible. 

Years and years of trust and familiarity all out the window because of a figure we haven’t even seen. 

The Figure in Black haunts our streets, and the only thing we know about them for sure is they have black hair, yellow eyes, and look almost inhuman with a walking pattern. . . that seems both snooty and inhuman. Other sources contradict each other, like when Vil’s home was robbed he says the figure was wearing a full outfit under their iconic black coat that went to the floor. While local gangs who’d encountered the Figure in Black says the person wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and when the Figure would fight they’d see skin. Dirty skin, but skin nonetheless. There was just so much in the air about this Figure in Black. 

And, honestly, it’s so hard. I can’t do my job like this. 

Recently, there had been something left by the Figure in Black at one of the Professor’s houses. Professor Ashton Vargas specifically.

The word, “Narcissist” was written outside of the poor Professor’s house. In blood, according to some. 

And, it was a speculate. People from all over town came to see it in person, no matter the section of town you came from, people came to see. Council members, townspeople, all walks of life came to see it.

“Oh Gods! The Figure in Black actually wrote that in blood?! Whose blood is it?!”

“Maybe the person they murdered yesterday. Did you hear? They murder the head priest!”

“Argh! I’m gonna nab that guy myself! And in my territory too! He’s got some balls to pull that shit!” 

“I bet it was him! His handwriting is close to the writing!”

“Seriously?!”

“Urgh. I’m not cleaning this up. It’s so gross.”

“The gangs and police are useless. They aren’t even doing anything, look at them. They’re just standing there, dumbfounded. Absolute nimrods.”

“Yeah, useless bastards. What do we even let them around for?”

I’d come by just to speak with the council members there to inform them that Quentin. . . still refused to come out of her room. 

Quentin says she’s been sick the past few days, and from the crying and throwing up coming from her room, I’d be inclined to believe her. But, I myself haven’t really been with her in days, since she doesn’t want anyone to visit her while she’s like this. Yes, I’ve fed her, and helped her sleep and things like that, but other than that. . . She’s mostly kept to the bed. 

I hate when she’s like this. . .Because I can’t cuddle with her! She gives the best cuddles after she’s back from work! And her boobs are so warm and soft-

“Eadwine?” Riddle Rosehearts said, as the other council members turned around to look at what Riddle was talking about. “Tell me you have good news for me.”

I tilted my head. “I suppose that depends on what you mean by good news.”

“As in, your wife is suddenly better and can help us.” Vil Schoenheit said, putting a hand on his hip. 

“No. But she does feel awful for this happening. She’s tried to come out of her room multiple times, but she always ends up going back to bed or passing out.” 

“W-Well, that’s much better than yesterday.” Kalim Al-Asim offered, though he himself seemed pretty unsure of what to actually say to keep the mood up. 

“Not by much.” Azul Ashengrotto said. “What in Twisted Wonderland did she get sick with?”  

“But, there is a silver lining in this.” I stated. “She said she was up really late at night because she couldn’t sleep, and she made up some macrons.”

“Huh? Why was she baking at night? Doesn’t she know that she could get into trouble if she stays up?” Leona asked. 

I shrugged. “I asked, but she said she wasn’t thinking straight and she probably used up her luck for a year with not getting hurt by the Figure in Black.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Riddle said, as he took a macron and others followed suit. “That woman must’ve gotten pretty lucky.”

“Despite being sick, Mrs. Quentin Nighty-Sallow makes good food.” Ortho smiled, which Kalim seemed to agree with as he made a happy noise. 

“Indeed. I must get her recipe for this. it’s pretty good.” Azul said. 

“Meh. Trey does better.” Riddle simply said. “But it’s pretty close, I’ll give her that.” 

As the Council Members took the macrons, I looked at the writing on the wall. 

Wait. . . That handwriting. It look familiar. 

“Ah. I see you’re no better than the other housewives.” Azul teased.

“I suppose.” I said. “But, isn’t the Figure in Black right though?”

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Well, Vargas is a narcissist, according to Quentin. It’s well know throughout the town he is pretty full of himself, and Quentin says that it is also called being a Narcissist. While I don’t like the blood on the wall, why would they do such a thing if the town already knows Vargas loves himself?”

The other seemed quiet for a moment, but after a few moments of silence, Azul spoke up. "You're right. This narrows things down."

"It does?" I asked.

"Yes. Since Narcissist is such a lesser known word, even I didn't know what the word meant, only people like Quentin would know it, hence they could use it." Riddle said simply. "We just need to narrow down to Quentin and those close with her, and keep an eye on them, and we'll catch the culprit."

“Well, that’s one way to see it.” I sighed. “But, are we really going to track down every person who knows the word Narcissist?”

“If that’s what it takes, yes.” Riddle said. 

I sighed. It was a foolish idea. But, well, I didn’t have one that was better.

I don’t have much time now. I wish I had more time but. . . She’s done something that has sped up the process of finding out it’s me. 

But. . . I haven’t been able to stop her yet! 

What am I supposed to do?! It’s only a matter of time before they find out it’s me! My days are numbered!

I. . . I haven’t avenged them! They. . .They! They can’t rest in peace with a woman like her wandering the streets! She can’t be allowed to wander the streets! She’ll destroy everything in this world without mercy!

That monster-she has to erased from this world.

For all those who’ve suffered! 

No one know must ever know the truth.

I have to stop her! 

I don’t know how, but I will!

I don’t know if I can stop her anymore, but I have to try! 

I. . .I did this! I’m the only one who can stop this!

I may not know the difference between what is right and what is wrong anymore, or even have a say in it, but. . . she cannot be allowed to walk the streets.

Winifred must be stopped, no matter the cost!  

Mrs. Quentin. . . Hasn’t come out of her room in days. 

She hasn’t come out for anything. Food, water, not even to use the bathroom. 

Mrs. Eadwine, Mr. Amiel and Mr. Azazel keep trying to get her to open the door and help her, but she’s boarded up the door and she’s begged us to let her out.  

I’ve. . . I’ve never heard her sound so desperate. Every time we try to talk to her. . . She sounds like she’s crying. She screams for us to please leave her alone, and that she doesn’t want us hurt. . . But what does she mean by that?

She’s been screaming other nonsense as well. 

Talking about a woman named Winifred. . . Saying everything it’s all her fault and she’s so sorry for everything. . . How she should just die already. . . It’s scary. 

I. . . I hate to see the woman who took me in act like this. Mrs. Quentin. . . She’s worked so hard as a council member. . . She’s helped out so many people in Crow’s Dusk, and yet, I can do nothing as she rots away in that room.

 Mrs. Eadwine also is starting to break. She. . . Can’t listen to Mrs. Quentin cry. She’s become less of a housewife and has wandered town, crying in hopes Quentin will leave one day. Mr. Amiel and Mr. Azazel aren’t much better. 

What are we supposed to do? The Nighty-Sallow house is falling apart, and I-

What am I supposed to do?

It’s hard to go home anymore. 

Quentin. . . I love her but. . . She’s tearing herself apart. 

I don’t get it! 

Why?! 

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS, QUENTIN? 

DO YOU WANT ME TO SUFFER? BECUASE CAN’T YOU SEE?! I’M SUFFERING! IT HURTS! I CAN’T BEAR MUCH OF THIS ANYMORE! IT’S TOO MUCH! I HATE IT! I HATE IT!

DOES IT HURT THAT MUCH?! WHY WON’T YOU LET US HELP, THEN?! WHY ARE YOU WAILING IN PAIN ALL DAY AND NIGHT! IT PAINS ME TO HEAR YOU! WHY?! WHY?! WHY ARE YOU ACTING THIS WAY?!

WHY WON’T YOU LET US HELP?!?!

Ah. 

I’d wandered off from town again. I’d gone to Professor Vargas’ house again. I don’t know why, but i keep coming here.

“Urgh. Now’s not the time for this.” I said, wiping away my tears and then I saw it. 

The message written on the wall of Vargas’ house. 

He still hasn’t washed it, has he? Gods, what a-Wait.

I got closer. That letter i. That’s looks like. . . how Quentin does her i’s. The way the dot is-Wait.

No. No. No. 

It can’t be! 

There’s no way! 

She won’t do such a thing! She’s too kind, yes, she’d get mad at others, but she won’t hurt others! 

This doesn’t make sense!

I raced to our home, straight to where Quentin had locked herself up. “QUENTIN DESMONA! OPEN THIS DOOR! RIGHT THIS INSTANT!”

Silence. 

“QUENTIN! DON’T YOU DARE GIVE ME THE SILENT TREATMENT! I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE! OPEN THIS GODFORAKREN DOOR, NOW! OR SO HELP ME GOD I’LL SMASH THIS DOOR DOWN!”

Still silence. 

“FINE THEN! THIS DOOR IS COMING DOWN! YOU BETTER NOT BE NEAR IT WHEN I BREAK IT!”

One hit. It moved.

Two hits. The door made a strange noise.

Three hits. The door broke, I could see on the other side Quentin has stacked chairs and tables by the door. 

Four hits. The door broke even more.

Five hits. The door was gone, and all that was left was the chairs and tables.

After some pushing they where at one side too. Until I could finally-

And on the floor, there laid Quentin.

Covered in blood.

“Quen. . .tin?”