#but I'm tempted to just start the whole thing over even though I spent like.... 10 hours on it

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Good Company | Bucky Barnes

✦ pairing — Bucky Barnes x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.8k

✦ request — For the Christmas fics thing can I ask for something with Bucky Barnes? The reader is completely tired of her grandmother telling her that she should lose weight to get a boyfriend/fiancé right in front of the whole family at every Christmas dinner. The reader is talking about it with two of her coworkers/friends until Bucky interrupts her and tells her he can go with her as her boyfriend

✦ warnings — light angst, mentions of fatphobia, mentions of food and beverages (alcohol included), fake dating, fluff, kissing.

✦ author's note — changed this one a little bit just so I could leave some stuff up for interpretation or else I would have gone overboard.

════════════════════════

You weren't feeling as festive as everybody in the building. Your work environment was good, you got along with your coworkers just fine for the most part, and the pay wasn't bad at all.

Your family, though... there was room for improvement there. A big room. Maybe an open plan apartment's worth of improvement.

It had come to the point that you weren't sure you wanted to see them for the holidays. Your grandmother always had something to say about you — your career, your friends, your weight, your relationship status.

She wanted you to be just like her and your aunts, to 'make sacrifices for a greater life' as she so eloquently put it. You were supposed to hate yourself, to change everything about you to please her.

Her excuse always boiled down to your loneliness in the romantic department. You couldn't tell her about hook-ups and fizzled-out flings so you would often nod along and take her absurd comments.

You wouldn't handle them that well this year. It was a tough one for everybody, but she would only use it as an excuse to urge you to find a partner before life got worse.

Reaching your car in the parking area, you made sure it was intact before unlocking it. You were checking the backseat when someone called your name.

You half-expected to be told you were needed for an emergency, but as you searched for whoever had called for your attention, you found Bucky.

"Oh, hi, Bucky."

He gave you a small smile, greeting you back. "Going home?"

"Yeah. I hope traffic isn't too bad."

"You free for dinner or coffee?"

"Right now?"

"Uh-huh."

"Sure. "

He led you to a small bistro, one of those hole-in-the-wall establishments he always seemed to find. Bucky gave you recommendations from time to time, and that was the extent of your dynamic outside of work.

You ordered drinks first and talked about silly things while you decided what to order for dinner. Once the order was placed and you had a few sips in you, Bucky turned more serious.

First, he cleared his throat. Seemingly not comfortable enough yet, he sighed. "I heard your conversation with Nat and Sharon..."

You hadn't even seen him at lunchtime and somehow he had managed to hear your rant about family expectations. Which meant he heard you at the edge of crying over your overly honest grandma.

You looked down at your half-empty glass. "It's... a lot, yeah."

"I'm available for the holidays." He pulled a napkin and started rolling it up into a log. "I can go with you, say I'm your boyfriend. Or fiance if you want, I know a jeweler who could lend us a ring."

"I couldn't ask that from you. It's supposed to be a jolly time."

"I'm offering."

"A tempting offer," you admitted. You didn't want to sound desperate, although he certainly knew you were. "What would be in it for you? How would I repay you?"

"Not being alone on Christmas is enough already. "

He started to fold the napkin into a tiny square, focused on making it look perfect.

"Well, I'm sure my family will be happy to keep you company. So will I."

He looked up at you, then nodded. "Tell me about them?"

So you spent dinner telling him about your parents and grandparents for the most part, small details of your siblings and nephews. You didn't want to overwhelm him too much.

You also spent days worrying it would end in catastrophe. What would your family think of you if things were to fall apart?

Bucky didn't back down when you warned him about the questions he would have to endure, or when you reminded him he would have to be affectionate to you.

He helped you wrap gifts and asked your opinion on the clothes he planned to wear. He was also curious if your family knew he was coming.

They did. You told your mom a day after your dinner with Bucky, on your daily morning phone call. She was thrilled, albeit mad that you hid your relationship status for so long.

You just hoped your grandmother would be as thrilled – maybe less offended that you kept a man hidden from her scrutiny.

He laughed when you told him she probably would try to get him for herself and grabbed your hand to tug you closer. "Can't do. I'm already taken, didn't you know?"

"Oh, really? Are they a better prospect than my grandma and her handmade blankets?"

"Hey, you never said something about handmade blankets. I might have to reconsider."

You hit him on the shoulder without even realizing you were doing it.

He didn't complain. Instead, he pulled you into him and said, "Your grandma will have to settle for having me as a grandson."

You were sure she would be glad to.

Bucky was easy to like. You weren't worried that anybody would have anything negative to say about him, not even your overprotective brother.

Looking up at him, you felt your face warm up as you realized he had been staring already. "Do you want me to drive tomorrow?"

"No, no. You just gotta guide me and look pretty."

You tried hard not to think about it, about his flirting and compliments. It came easy to him, it wasn't a big deal.

Well, it shouldn't have been.

════════════════════════

You sat on the passenger seat, letting a Christmas playlist do the heavy lifting as you did your best not to bombard Bucky with suggestions as to what to say.

He wasn't stupid, and you had found he listened to what everybody said and internalized the useful parts. He didn't need you to treat him like a distracted child.

You just needed everything to be perfect and to survive Christmas dinner without crying for once in your adult life.

As if knowing you were torn between your anxiety and the catchy song playing, Bucky reached over and rested his hand on your knee.

"I'll be the best boyfriend, doll, don't worry."

You didn't doubt it. "I've never lied to them like this."

There was a first for everything. You were just glad you weren't doing it on your own.

Bucky helped you carry the gifts while you carried the cake you got from a bakery Sharon recommended.

Your mom opened the door in all her glory, with her hair done and a glittery black sweater underneath her red apron. Her eyes lit up when she saw you and Bucky, potentially more because he was real than because she missed you, and ushered you both inside.

Most family members were there already for your grand entrance, expectant, a tad impatient to see the man they would get to judge together.

Your brother and dad tore their eyes away from the football highlights on the TV at the same time, examining Bucky from head to toe.

Bucky introduced himself as such, just Bucky, but your brother insisted on calling him James which earned him a pointed look from your mom.

"I've heard so much about you," your mom said cheerfully. An attempt to dissipate whichever tension your brother could have arisen.

Bucky laughed charmingly, sharing a complicit look with you. People around you surely saw it as a gesture between lovers. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, ma'am."

He won her over with that, much like he did with your aunts and sister. Your brother would sneak weary glances from time to time and even looked offended when your dad laughed at something Bucky said.

But you agreed with your dad. Bucky was just so easily likable, serious on the exterior yet the funniest person you had met —a charming man who happened to be easy on the eyes.

Your grandmother, though, she almost fell in love with him. She grabbed your hand, giving it a strong squeeze. "See? I told you you'd be happier once you found a man."

You tried to smile at her.

"I'm the happiest," Bucky interjected. "Your granddaughter changed my life."

Your grandmother cooed, relishing just how right she had been. You were sure she was thinking you got lucky that you didn't even have to lose weight to find him.

If she thought so, she didn't say it. In fact, there wasn't a single comment regarding your weight the entire night. The fact that Bucky had his arm around your waist must have helped.

You saw another side of your grandmother, the fun one.

All you needed to be in harmony with your family had been to show up on somebody's arm.

It helped that Bucky was open to answering questions and patient with the kids who insisted he had to play with them because he was new.

Your brother was the only cautious one. He wasn't impolite, but his questions were as piercing as his eyes and his words too cold to come from your favorite person in the world.

He had never been anything but warm, much to some of the other men's disappointment. Raised mostly by your mom, you both were taught to be welcoming, to choose kindness even when it was the toughest thing to do.

But your kind brother didn't appear when it came to Bucky. You feared he knew you so well that your ruse had been discovered.

You followed your brother to the patio where you found him checking his phone. His fiancé was on a family trip, he probably missed them.

"You could be a little nicer," you said casually.

Your brother let out a huff, putting his phone away. "He looks like the type."

"The type?"

"Like the ones I had to beat up for breaking your heart in high school."

You tried not to think about those people and their cruel jokes. Their bets, their mocking tones. You had enough with the things your grandmother still said, the never-heard-before heartlessness she would throw your way the moment you showed up on your own again.

"This isn't high school."

"I'm looking out for you."

"Why don't you just say you think he's out of my league?"

"Because that's not it." He sounded offended, ever the protector. To make matters worse, he wisely said, "You didn't have to get a boyfriend if you weren't ready."

You frowned, trying to read his face in an attempt to find what he was getting at. Bucky wasn't the first person you had introduced your family to as a partner.

"If anything," he said, standing tall and lifting his shoulders in a shrug, "you're out of his league — who dates a coworker?"

"Me."

Your brother shook his head in disapproval, as he often did when you were younger. His semblance softened immediately. "You know what I mean."

"I don't."

He twisted his mouth, then tilted his head as he pointed —to him— the obvious, "He's more into you than you're into him."

"I wish you wouldn't say it like it's a bad thing."

"It is when you're so stiff around him."

Maybe you let your nerves get the best out of you. "I don't want to give Mom and Dad the wrong impression. Or grandma... you know how they are."

"Just... be careful. And call me if you need me; for anything."

You kissed his cheek in assurance and went back inside. Only then, you realized just how cold it was outside — you were only wearing a sweater.

You sat close to Bucky, resting your head on his bicep as your mom continued telling him about her upcoming retirement.

He wrapped his arm around you, bringing you closer. His comforting warmth seeped into you, pressed to his chest. He rubbed his hand along your arm, feeling just how cold you were.

You hoped he wouldn't want to move any time soon.

If he wanted to, he concealed it well. Bucky was hesitant to part from you when dinner was served, and even more after when your niece asked you to do her hair.

Eventually, you had to leave. It wasn't ludicrously late, but the drive was an hour long and you didn't have it in you to send Bucky home on his own while you stayed there for the night — inviting him to stay was out of the question.

He promised to visit soon, joking that he would bring you with him as a plus one. Your grandmother laughed so loudly that it scared you. It made you sad. You got your family's hopes up, and for what? A peaceful dinner that would only serve as a bitter reminder?

It was over so quickly and the aftermath would haunt you until you found someone else to lie. Or to actually date.

There was a chance you ruined it for yourself. Who would your grandmother approve of after having met Bucky?

You didn't know if you would approve of anybody else after that either. It didn’t snow this year. As though even the weather thought you had been wrong for lying to your family on Christmas from all days.

Bucky nudged you. "You good?"

"Yeah," you answered quickly

"You sure?"

"It was a long day."

"You didn't have a good time?"

"I woke up at five in the morning," you clarified. Not a lie, but you were used to that kind of schedule. "I'm surprised you still have so much energy."

"Having good company helped."

You hated that he said that.

It would have been so nice to agree, to enjoy how happy your grandmother had been, and your mom's laugh, and your sweet brother's worry...

Not hearing vitriolic comments about your body and lifestyle was lovely. You would still hear it soon, but at least your Christmas hadn't been ruined by your family but by yourself.

Sadness washed over you as your apartment came into view. You didn't know exactly why, he was still your friend, you would see him at work and have a secret just for the two of you which meant you were closer friends now.

You shouldn't have been glad to have him as a friend, to have a person willing to lie to multiple people just so you would have a good Christmas.

"Thank you. For everything." You didn't know how else to say goodbye. You would see him in a couple of days at work.

Ever the polite one, he smiled and said, "It was my pleasure."

You climbed out of the car and told him to drive safely. Bucky only nodded. Waving at him in goodbye, you smiled softly. Then, you stepped into the first front step.

"Hey,” he called for you from the car.

You turned around. “Yeah?"

He rolled the window up and killed the engine. Swiftly, Bucky got out of the car and approached you. "I liked it."

"You can come next year if you want." And if he wasn't busy. Or in a relationship.

"I didn't— I mean, yes, I would like that, but I liked the whole thing.”

Your heartbeat quickened. You lifted your eyebrows, not able to ask what he meant by that.

But you didn’t need to, Bucky was willing to openly say it, "You know, the handholding. And having you all over me especially.”

You froze on the spot, watching him get even closer. You were still on the first step, meeting his gaze by mistake.

He huffed to himself and added, "I always thought you were pretty, but having you this close... God, how did I ever go about my life without this? How can I go back to that?"

"Buck..."

"Look—"

"You wanna come in? Have some hot cocoa or a glass of wine?"

He let out a relieved laugh. “Yeah. It’s fucking freezing out here.”

It was and while you thought you looked pretty in your cozy sweater and your light coat, you really should have layered up. Bucky hung his jacket in the coat closet as though he had done so hundreds of times.

“Wine or hot cocoa?” you asked once he was comfortable in the living room.

“Wine.”

You pulled a pair of glasses out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.

Bucky stopped you from reaching for the bottle. “Wait.”

You turned around to face him. “Changed your mind?”

At the same time, he asked, “Can I kiss you first?”

You pressed your lips to his as an answer. He quickly kissed you back, cupping your cheek in one hand while the other one found the space between your hip and waist.

He caressed your cheek, making you sigh into the kiss which he took as an opportunity to deepen it. You grabbed his face, accepting the pace he chose to kiss you with.

The hold on your body became stronger as Bucky tried to pull you closer for which he lost his step, making you laugh and pull away in worry that he would hit his hip against the kitchen table.

He shook his head, assuring you he was fine.

Your hands ended up on his shoulders while he grabbed you by the waist with both hands.

"Merry Christmas," he said against your lips before kissing you again.

[byte-babe]

Bullworth, After Hours

Characters - Pete Kowalski/Eleanor Kowalski

Summary - Pete's summer self-discovery.

Word Count - 901

Warnings - N/A

A/N - This is a sneak peek of a fanfic I'm working on (still reworking the first chapter). If you have any feedback or chapter suggestions (because i have no idea where this can lead to) let me know !! ^^

Summer break for Pete Kowalski had been eventful to say the least; now that he had accepted his new found self.

He came out to his parents a week into the break, telling them about all the little thoughts he’s been having since the 9th grade and how they’ve gradually gotten bigger and less easy to ignore.

Both of his parents are very loving and understanding people and have always shown support when it came to their child, so talking to them was a lot easier than Pete had anticipated.

He honestly expected his parents to call him crazy and shut the whole thing down since he had no idea where their views on the LGBT+ community stand, but they showed no signs of rejection. They didn’t really get it, which meant they’d have to do some research on the matter like Pete did before, but they agreed that they would do their best to understand and provide support.

It took a while for them learn more about the entire thing, but they eventually got it and even found a good gender-affirming consoler that he could see.

The first few minutes within the meeting were nerve-racking.

So many questions about who he was, what he wanted, and how he felt. Each question felt like it was peeling back a layer he hadn’t even realized was there. It was overwhelming, but at the same time, a strange relief.

He was told about HRT and how most male to female people who wanted to be more feminine use it to reduce the testosterone levels in their bodies and add in more estrogen, helping to align the person’s body with how they feel inside.

Pete never knew that there were ways a person could change their appearance other than surgery. It was very tempting, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to take that big of a step yet.

The doctor suggested that he should start off with something and try other forms of self-expression that makes him more comfortable such as clothing, hair changes, or even makeup. And once he felt good about it all, then they could discuss about medical options.

During the second month of summer, Pete had spent his time experimenting with the ways he could express himself more in a more feminine way. He started with a name change and pronouns.

His mother suggested ‘Eleanor’ for a new name since it was the name she picked if she ended up having a girl.

Eleanor liked that name. She couldn’t explain why, but it just resonated with her.

As fun as it all was—spending long summer days with her mom and navigating the lifestyle of a girl, trying different clothes, using subtle makeup, and even being able to start HRT during the first few days of August— Eleanor had to go back to school.

The start of the school year was getting closer and closer with the heavy, burning weight of anxiety making itself at home in the bottom of Eleanor’s stomach.

She even asked— begged her parents to let her be homeschooled, but it was never up to debate, especially since she only had one year left of high school now.

Might as well just get it over with instead of going through a whole process of getting transferred to a homeschooling program.

This meant Eleanor had to enter Bullworth as someone different. Not only that, but she knew she might have to correct people when it came to her name and labels.

Maybe it would all be that bad, considering that she didn’t have much of a reputation there and people barley knew her name or who she was anyways.

Her and her parents talked to Dr. Crabblesnitch a week prior to the start of the school year about the changes.

Even though he wouldn’t, couldn’t, and shouldn’t admit to it, Eleanor could tell he wasn’t fond of the changes. Yet he had no choice but to oblige.

He would lose money if he did. That’s all he cared about.

With these new changes, Eleanor still resided in the boy dormitory. It wasn’t up to her, Crabblesnitch made that decision.

She couldn’t really be upset with that though, thinking that she wasn’t where she wanted to be in terms of looks, it was the safer choice.

She didn’t want to risk making the girls uncomfortable and would instead have to deal with whatever insults or harassments the boys would do to her.

She dealt with it before, so what would be the difference?

At least Gary wouldn’t be there. He’d just make her life a living hell.

She had been visiting him occasionally in Happy Volts over break— before she started using estrogen, so he had no idea about anything.

She never told him anything.

Why would she visit Gary anyways? The one mentally insane person who turned the entire school into a battlefield and against Jimmy just to fuel his narcissistic personality and own twisted desire for total control?

Because Eleanor was a compassionate person.

And— sad to admit it— but he was also the first friend she made when she came to Bullworth.

Whenever she did visit, he would be on an array of medication which made him oddly calm.

Still an asshole, but calm.

He never seemed to mind the company either; if Eleanor was correct, he looked as if he actually enjoyed it.

[wilfywarfy]

Happy Anniversary~

"...hello?"

It all looks so… familiar. Like he's home, but he knows he's not. There's no banter coming from the commons. Or the sound of pots and pans clashing against each other. Not even the sound of walking on the upper levels.

It was quiet. Too quiet. This wasn't his home.

"Hello?" He calls out again. Where was everyone?

"William?"

Wilford turns around. Not because it was his name they'd called out, but because there was someone else.

A man in a white dress shirt and black pants comes up to him. He wasn't completely sober. He could tell by the way he stumbled. He himself had stumbled like that many times before.

"Hmm? Oh, it's not-"

"'ve been wondering where you were! Come on, we've been waiting for you!" The man holds out a hand for him.

Waiting… for him?

"Well, I suppose I can't keep the party waiting! Oh, by the way, it's Wilford. Not William." Wilford takes the man's hand, letting himself be led.

"Haha, yeah, whatever you say, Will! Now… where's that poker room… oh, right." It seemed the alcohol was getting to his guide as he took Wilford to the party.

What he's met with, well, it certainly is a party. There's 2 other people in the room, both looking equally, if not even more, intoxicated. Both seated at the poker table, with large glasses of wine.

Wait… wait a second…

"Abe?"

The man looks at Wilford, squinting to try and get his vision to realign. "William! Where'd you go? We'd been waiting forever!"

"Uhm, Wilford. I… I just got here. I don't know where I am." He says honestly. There was no point in lying.

"Haha! Aww man, you are hilarious! Maybe you should stop drinking, you're starting to go insane!"

Even Abe didn't believe him? He spent a whole 19 minute special making Abe believe him! That was NOT a small budget special either. "No, I'm being honest!"

"Hah, sure you are! Come on, go pick up your hand again! It's your turn!"

Abe gestures to an empty seat at the poker table. Set up with a rather nice looking pile of chips. A tempting glass of dark red wine. And a hand with his name written all over it. Maybe he could tolerate being called William… especially if it meant a bit of fun.

"Well, don't mind if I do~"

It takes time to get into the swing of things. After all, drunk humor is different from sober humor. But if there's one thing Wilford was good at, it was adapting! Before he knew it, he had the whole table bursting out in laughter with every quip he fired out. And it was much easier with every glass of wine he finished off.

"Haha, William, my friend! You truly are a comedian if there ever was one! Say, why don't you come work with me? You'd make a killing, you know!"

"Oh, Mark, I'm already there! I'm one of the biggest names in entertainment! At least… I think I am."

"Hah, alright, Mr. False Memory. Whatever you say!" The rest of the table laughs.

Mark… Mark… why'd that name sound so familiar?

"What the fuck!?"

Everyone's attention snaps to the door. A new player seems to have entered the party. And he didn't look too happy, considering how he held out his gun. It was a rather nice looking gun, if Wilford said so himself. A beautiful revolver. Why, he had one himself!

"William!" Damien said, breaking out into a fit of giggles. "There you are!"

"Yes, it's me… what is HE doing in MY seat?" William points the muzzle towards Wilford, who's unfazed.

"Well, that's William!" Damien says, as if it's the most casual thing in the world.

Both Wilford and William look at Damien, before looking back at each other.

"Well, let me explain-"

"You can explain once you're dead!" William unclicks the safety, and continues to point the gun towards Wilford

"Hey! Wait just a damn second! As someone who also has a rather dapper looking mustache, I don't want to get into a squabble with a fellow stache haver!"

Wilford holds his hands up, showing that he doesn't have anything. Though in doing such, shows that he has his revolver tucked away in his belt. 

"You do have a dapper mustache, I'll give you that." William slowly points the gun to the floor, though he's still defensive.

"Exactly! There's no need to fight, friend!"

"Wait a damn second…" Abe says, as if he'd just made a discovery. "William… isn't William?"

"I've been saying that, Abe. My name is Wilford."

"It's rather rude that you would confuse us, Abe. We look nothing alike." Both Wilford and William look at Abe, both placing a hand on their hip, as if to say 'We're nothing alike! Just look at us!'

Abe is still very confused. But he's also very drunk. "...okay."

"Anywho, that still doesn't explain why you're in MY seat, drinking MY drink, and mooching up to MY detective…friend." William clarifies.

"Well, look…" Wilford looks at the badges on the man's uniform. "Colonel! Look Colonel, I mean no harm by being here… I don't even know why I'm here if I'm being honest. But this party is so fun! I couldn't resist! By the way, Mark, lovely party throwing skills!"

"Thank you, William."

"Wilford. Anyway, I never meant to harm you. Or anyone here. I simply wished to play poker. So… if you'd like, you can have your seat back."

William stares at him. The amount of pink on Wilford was nauseating to all his senses.

He then looks at his hand, or rather, what Wilford had done with his hand. He had more chips than when he left.

"...haha!" William throws an arm around Wilford, pulling him into his side. Wilford is caught off guard, but adapts, and tosses an arm around the Colonel. "Boys, I think we have another player in our party!"

The boys laugh, and raise their glasses in celebration. 

"Say, Mark. How do you feel about setting up a new hand for our new friend here?" Damien asks the red robed man.

That smile was fake. Wilford could tell a fake smile from a mile away. Why, Mark, why-.

"Of course! BENJAMIN!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Get our new friend his own glass. And bring up a new keg, would you?"

"Yes, sir!"

Wilford doesn't remember laughing this much. The only time he wasn't laughing was when he was drinking, and even that was a task.

His own vision becomes blurry. Time starts to slow. And the slur of his voice grows thicker.

"Say, Wilford… how do you feel about games of chance, hmm?" A sultry voice asks. Who exactly it is, it's hard to tell.

"Well… I do love gambling!" He gestures to his large pile of poker chips. Which he'd gained by, admittedly, changing a few of his cards. What was the harm if they didn't know? "Why do you ask?"

"Well… I challenged William to a game of Russian Roulette. It's a false round, no danger. So… what do you say? Want to bet?"

"Hmm… nah, I'm alright. You two have fun though!" Wilford went back to counting his chips… or trying to, at least. It was so hard to count. He's pretty sure he hears an 'Alright… if you say so.' From over his shoulder.

It's not even a few moments later before he hears it.

BANG!

Wilfords eyes grow wide. And it's like all the alcohol is flushed from his body, leaving him cold sober. That wasn't the sound of a false round. No, that was a bullet. A real, authentic bullet. He knew the sound by heart. 

He drops all his chips and scrambles out of his chair, his feet guiding him to what had happened.

There's so much blood… so much blood… so much blood.

"Haha, Mark lost!" William says joyously, clapping as he laughs.

"What… what the hell?" Wilford says quietly, taking in the scene before him.

Fuck, there were bits of Marks head splattered on the floor. Small chunks of muscle, skull, and brain matter in places where they didn't belong. Blood was pouring from the hole in his head, like some kind of fucked up syrup.

"No…no… this, this isn't real…" Wilford says to himself.

"Heh, damn right it's not real. Come on, Mark, get up!" William kicks Marks body. There's no response.

The smell of rot starts to spread out. Open bodies smelled like death. He knew it from first hand experience.

"This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real…"

"Oh, come on, don't be such a sore loser, Mark! Get your ass up, spoil sport!" The Colonel kicks him again. No response. "Ugh, Damien, help!"

"What's wrong, Will?"

"Drama boy here won't get his ass up."

"...eh, probably just fell asleep."

No, he's not asleep. He's dead. Wilford has seen many dead bodies. Enough to know that Mark was dead. There was no false round… Mark was dead.

"Wilford… you alright?"

Wilford looks at Abe, concern written on the detective's face. Meanwhile, his own was covered with fear.

Pure fear.

"He's dead… he's dead…" Wilford keeps stepping back, til he comes in contact with the poker table. He grips onto it. Hard. His nails make indents in the fine wood.

"He's dead… he's dead…" Once his hands hurt enough, he uses them to cover his face. Blocking his view of everyone messing with the body of their friend.

He's dead. He's dead.

And then… it's quiet.

Wilford looks again… everyone is gone. Mark… Damien… Abe… they're all gone. Hell, the room is gone. Replaced with the loneliness of black. 

"Do you remember yet?"

"...what?"

"Do you remember what this place is, William?"

"...why did you bring me here?"

"For you to remember…"

A crack of lighting strikes too close for comfort, thunder not too far after. It makes Wilford jump in shock.

"For you to remember what you did to me."

In front of him, a body drops. As if waiting for him, right here, at the right time.

It's Marks body. The wound is still fresh. He wants to throw up.

"For you to remember what you did to them." 

"William!"

"William!"

"William!"

Voices surround him. Ones that feel so close, and yet, so far. Never front and center. They hadn't been front and center for a long time.

"For you to remember the mistakes you've made…"

"I… I didn't know…" he pleads with the voice.

"All of those horrible mistakes…"

"I didn't know it was loaded…"

"Everyone you've hurt… everyone you've betrayed… all the pain you've caused."

"Please, I'm sorry!" He begs.

"It's too late for sorry…"

Wilford looks at his hands. They're covered in red. Dripping red onto the supposed floor of this void. He tries to wipe them on his pants, but nothing comes off. Blood just keeps dripping off, never ending.

"Do you think sorry will fix everything you've done?"

He turns around to where he hears the voice, but is met with bodies. Piles, upon piles of bodies. A sick mountain range of his own creation. All mangled in ways that he's caused. Some so bad that he can't even recognize them. The smell of rot is unbearable. The sight is unbearable. He has to physically stop himself from spilling sick all over.

"Do you think sorry would bring them back?"

He turns again.

There's 2 gravestones… overcome with the consequences of time. Both adorned with blue and red flowers respectively.

Damien Whitacre. Celine Whitacre.

"Damien… Celine…" Tears form in his eyes just from the names alone. Oh, Celine…

"Do you think sorry would fix all the pain you've caused him?"

"Why can't I remember?"

"Get your ass down on the ground!"

"Am I crazy?"

"Abe…" oh, his detective… he never deserved all that trouble… he deserved rest. Peace.

"Do you think sorry would fix all the pain you've caused me?"

A cold hand rests on the back of Wilfords neck. All his memories hit him like a freight train. Everything. Everything he'd done.

"Mark… please…" tears spill down his cheeks. He can't look at him… he can't look at him again.

"No… that won't do… not after everything you've done…"

The cold hand vanishes. And he's alone again… in the loneliness of black.

"It's all your fault, William."

Wilford looks around. There's nothing. And yet, there's everything. It's too much. "Mark, please, it was an accident!"

"You hurt me, you hurt your friends, and you left her to die!"

"I didn't! I didn't leave her! I swear!"

"So many people… hurt. Because of you."

"I didn't mean to! I didn't know!"

Ear piercing screams are heard all around him. Victims of his crimes. Innocent people, dead. Coming back to haunt him for his actions.

"Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mark! I'm sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, William! And it hasn't cut it for a long time!"

"I didn't know!"

"William!"

"William!"

"Please, William!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"You'll never be forgiven, William… no matter how much you try… you'll always be a murderer!"

"It was an accident! Please, believe me!"

"It's all your fault, William!"

"It's your fault!"

"It will always be your fault!"

"Murderer!"

"Please! Please, it was an accident! You have to believe me!" Wilford sobbed. Trying to plead to the voices of his friends. He wasn't a monster… it was an accident. A bad accident. He never meant to hurt them.

"It's all your fault!"

"Your fault!"

"Your fault!"

"It's all your fault, William!"

—

Wilford's eyes shoot open. His heart races in his chest. It's hard to breathe. The air feels like sludge, suffocating him. His face is wet from tears.

"It… it was an accident… I swear." He says to himself, in the dark of his room. The tears come again.

He's alone.

[millermenapologist]

I've just came from ao3 heyy i have to tell you here since I'm too shy to say there

1- I spent the whole day dedicated to read your chapter, I'm not exagerating. Your chapters are so extraordinarily big omg. And I'm not complaining, I wish fic writers wrote chapters like that.

2-Ellie's relationship with joel is so good❤️even though you write on ellie's pov, the way you show to us every aspect of joel is like we're seeing his pov too!! And I love how she really sees ellie as his baby daughter, like she's really his youngest. And I love how patient he is too her even when she's all over the place, like when she was trying to convince him she's a bad person and has bad thoughts, and he just sits there with her and very calmly asks her to tell him what are this bad thoughts. It reminds me of a fic I loved on ao3 about the last of us called "what dads do" (sadly never had an ending🤧). Also, have I already said that is really cute this habit of his when he puts her in his lap or cradles her most of the time? Or when she does it herself like it's the most normal thing on this world? It's so cute and such an innocent way of showing affection❤️

2- i don't know how to feel about sarah and her. Part of me is still getting used to the idea of girlfriends that live in the same house because they have the same dad, but other part of me enjoys the whole dynamic. Also, I have to admit It's very tempting to ship them both when they have such a chemistry like that, i mean, goody-two-shoes predator killer and her cute little girlfriend?? Idk if you're planning to weite dina and ellie as a couple in the future, but I guess you will have a lot of work to convince us that they have more chemistry as sarah and ellie🤭 can't wait to see what happens next

3- did ellie had a psychotic attack or something like that? Joel and sarah are not the only ones who were like "wtf" when reading that, and although the scene of joel carrying her like a toddler why she was screaming "traitooorr!!!" on the stairs was a bit funny, I'm worried about her.

4- I got sad for tommy boy :( he seemed so genuinely bothered about the fact that maria considered even for a moment that he would cover up his brother for supposedly hurting a little girl. Hope he gets his happy ending, whether with Maria, or someone else... Me... Heard something? Me neither

5- can you at least tell me something about next chapter?🫠

Aw, thank you for coming here, then! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚

I swear that they don't start off this long, when i plan them in my notebook, I'm just the definition of unrepentant yapper (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

Ok, listen: canonically speaking, Joel always keeps Sarah very close (she leans on him while they watch the movie and then falls asleep on him, he lifts her up and carries her around rather than waking her up), and then he keeps touching her face to make sure she's okay; and as soon as Ellie gets comfortable with Joel, she starts touching him too, like when they're on the horse or when she almost ends him by giving him that huge ass dose of penicillin (pls don't inject penicillin like that, you're gonna die). It's not my fault if they're touchy people in the most literal sense of the word. Ellie saw that man and decided he's free real estate, and Joel was just born to be a girl dad, so any girl that enters his hope is at least half-adopted by him. I am only keeping the characters true to their original essences uwu

For this fic, no Dina/Ellie, but they're definitely gonna be friends in the epilogue. Shenanigans might ensue (they will definitely ensue. Joel's gonna end up with so much more white hair). If we're talking about "future" fics, then... idk yet? For my birthday I plan to post a one shot that's set between the farm chapter and the Santa Barbara one of TLOU2, so the Ellie/Dina relationship is gonna be talked about for sure, and the other long I have planned, Anklebiter, has 14yo Ellie grow a massive crush for Sarah (who, sadly, is ~30, so definitely not interested in pursuing a relationship with her), but some other story idea that's right for them might arise ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡

Not really. It's more what happens when you don't sleep for extended periods of time: you start losing your mind. You can start hallucinating, seeing distorted things, etc. At my first big girl job, I was in the office at 10am and wouldn't go home until 10pm, if not 11 or even later (and then I still had to get home, which required about an hour). By the end of the first week I was so overworked and exhausted that I'd wake up in the middle of the night, standing, half-hallucinating half-dreaming that I was back in the office. Sometimes I'd wander in other rooms too, and at some point I started seeing "things" in the edges of my vision and other things like that. It was terrifying. It's pretty much why sleep deprivation can be used as a torture method.

Well, in her defense, Maria sees a lot of bad people too, and has to deal with their families. Plenty of people think that keeping it within the family is the best option, so that's what she went for. Hehe, don't worry about his ending ┬┴┬┴┤ʕ•ᴥ├┬┴┬┴

Uhmm... Ellie and Danica are going to have a one-on-one conversation, Dina's gonna be freed from being grounded, aaaaand some honesty is gonna grace the Miller House. Not once, but twice! Crazy, I know!

[tessiete]

For the latest prompt list, meriggiare.

Korkie Kryze.

An Italian word, unusual to us too but known anyway because one of the greatest poems of our literature starts with it. Meriggiare pallido e assorto…

https://www.slow-words.com/to-rest-in-the-shade/

I...don't know @piccolaromana. I'm not.....unhappy with this? But it's a little weird. It's not my usual style, though I mean, at least the purple prose is me. Am I coming back to myself, or am I only more and more lost?

I don't know!

But I thank you for the prompt and I hope you don't hate this! <3

FIRE THAT'S CLOSEST KEPT

Korkie Kryze lies down to sleep when the sun of the Empire is highest.

It is not giving up. He’s only tired. So tired. It is impossible to keep going. Like sunrise over a desert, the ascent of Palpatine has been swift and deadly. The fury of his power has burned away every good and growing thing. All life. All love. All freedom. 

All of the Senate.

All of the Republic.

All of the Jedi.

Mandalore, he left for Maul. The wasted frame of a dying beast writhing in its last throes of resistance, and all the Sith had to do was wrap his hand around its throat and squeeze. There was hardly any strength left. All of it had been spent on the throne room floor in Sundari. 

His aunt’s death was a mortal wound. They just didn’t know it at the time.

But Korkie knows now. He knows how you can bleed and bleed and bleed and hardly understand you’re wounded. He knows how infection can slip beneath the skin and boil your blood without anyone noticing. He knows how something can break deep inside, and fester, and rot, and waste away until all that’s left is ash. He learned all of that after he woke up to the feel of beskar against his skin. Not his aunt’s cool fingers, but Bo-Katan’s clad in armor. Her voice low and rough, telling him the Duchess was dead.

He blinked, not understanding.

The blind mask of the Nite Owl’s visor stared down at him, half-familiar but only in the way a hologram looks like a loved one. Distant. Inverted. Warped.

She’d cocked her head, and sighed. Through the vocoder, it came out like a growl.

“Guess you’re coming with me.”

But she was wounded too. And Korkie couldn’t save her. Rage, he knows, is also a kind of injury. So is grief. And fear. 

Let it go, let it go, let it go. 

He repeats the mantra in his head, reminding himself that there are some things outside of his control, that will always be outside of his control. He can’t save everyone.

The bandages on his arm come away easily, melting beneath the warm spray of water. Dantooine is a charming planet absolutely brimming with resources, but too many lightyears away from anything of true worth. There are no deposits of rich metals, no crude oils, no gases, no precious stones, no spice. There is only grass, and grain, and fresh water.

This is where the Rebels have been stationed for almost two years, living double lives, mingling with the locals, and selling their wares in the traveling markets that pop up as the seasons pass. The small population of farmers and laborers take them for refugees. There have been enough of those in all corners of the galaxy that a few here are hardly suspicious, and they live quietly enough that even the nosiest of traders learns nothing worth tempting the Empire’s wrath for.

But in the caves by the old fortress, there are hidden ships – a whole fleet of fighters stolen and repurposed, or donated by nameless politicians. Korkie has filed off the royal seal for Alderaan so many times that he has calluses in the shape of their desecration across the pads of his fingers. 

And those ships are equally marked with the black blaze of laser burns and torpedo strikes. They are pocked with shrapnel, and held together with binders and chemtack. Korkie can hardly believe they’re spaceworthy, but they keep going back.

He keeps going back.

But this was the last time.

The water runs over his skin, and the blood, turned black with oxygen, falls away down the drain. Black dirt falls off his skin, and black smoke is washed from his hair. 

After, he looks at himself in the mirror and thinks that black and red are the only colors left. The only colors the Empire hadn’t burned away, fading like laundry in the sun. Ashes and embers. And once he’s cleansed himself of them – of the blood and the dirt – he is a ghost.

His hair, once a burnished gold, is stark white. His cheeks, bloodless and white. His eyes, as blue as crystal water, but the closer he looks the more they appear clear, and empty like an ocean glittering back the reflection of that burning flame above showing nothing of what lies beneath. 

At his mouth, there is a slash of red as though every bloody thought, every gruesome deed sits poised on the tip of his tongue waiting to be told, and at the centre of his eyes, there is a black, dark void where light is swallowed up. He looks into it as if he might see himself on the other side, but he sees nothing.

Korkie Kryze has finally bled out.

“You should rest,” she says. “You should lie down and sleep.”

“And dream?” he asks. “And only dream of death?”

After all, what else is left is there to imagine? 

As a child, death was something distant and impossible. A strange thing for a Mandalorian. Through the sheer force of his aunt’s will, a whole generation was born to a people whose great-great grandparents had not known peace. He was the first. And he was the last.

The very last, he thinks. It’s an idle thought now. When he’d first had it, he’d panicked. The possibility that every other person he’d known, every other childhood friend, or passing acquaintance, or despised bully was dead had crushed him. The weight of their loss piled on top of him until he couldn’t breathe, and he was certain he was meant to join them. But he hadn’t then. And soon, the thought grew stale and dull. Then amusing. Then tragic. 

Now, he repeats it to himself to remind himself that the end is very close.

“You can stop,” she says, and she pulls him down to bed. “We can stay here. We can keep our eyes closed, and keep our arms around each other, and let it all pass over us.”

Like a corpse in the ground, he thinks.

Mandalorians do not bury their dead. But there are tombs on Dantooine. Old Jedi ones. He thought they’d burned their own, too. Yet the barrows are there, on the outskirts of the enclave. He visits them often, and sits between the mounds. The hills are ancient and so they are worn down to gentle swells, like ripples on a pond. He sits in the tall grass and his hair blows and he sways because the wind goes right through him, like branches or like old bones.

“Sleep,” she says. “Sleep, sleep.”

Die Mando, die Mando, die Mando. Die, die, die.

“I can’t sleep,�� he says. 

“Go to sleep. It will all be clearer in the morning.”

The Rebellion is leaving Dantooine. The fight is heating up. The princess of Alderaan is loud, and she is being heard. She is young, Korkie thinks. She is younger than he was when he lost everything. She has never known peace. She is not softened by it. Weakened by it. She was born with armor, and she has not been wounded. Not yet. 

“We will lose everything,” he whispers in the dark.

“No,” she says. “We are letting it go.”

“And what will we have left?”

“What do you want to keep?”

“Myself. I am only living my life in pieces, and this one is already dead. But there is something else they’ve tried to kill. I’ve kept it hidden for so long that it is all that I have left.”

She kisses him then, so gently, on the mouth. “Then don’t let them take it. You know who you are.”

“I know who I want to be.”

Korkie Kryze lies down to sleep when the Empire burns the brightest. But Korkie Kenobi burns brighter.

[semper-legens]

24. Not Good For Maidens, by Tori Bovalino

Owned: No, library Page count: 358 My summary: Laura and May had their whole lives planned out. They were going to be witches, like their mothers and grandmothers before them. Then May was tempted away to the goblin market, and all hell began to break loose. Now, eighteen years later, Laura's daughter has lost her cousin to the market. She knows nothing of her family's heritage...but now, she has to brave the worst parts of it. My rating: 3/5 My commentary:

Witches and goblins and magic, oh my! When I read the blurb for this book, I decided it was most definitely in my wheelhouse. The Goblin Market, though not among my favourite poems, is still one I think of fondly. ('We must not look at goblin men/We must not buy their fruits/Who knows upon what soil they fed/Their hungry thirsty roots?') And this book is very consciously based upon that poem. The problem is that I'm not sure that the narrative bore out its promise. The ideas that were brought up on the blurb didn't go much further, and the characters were largely forgettable. It was a shame, really, because I feel like this is the kind of thing I would have been a lot more charitable towards and even enjoyed as a teenager - but alas, the adult version of me was not too impressed.

First of all, the narrative is actually two narratives - the focus is split between Lou's rescue of Neela in the present day, and May's ill-fated journey into the Market eighteen years ago. This more hampers than helps the narrative. May and Laura are pretty clear on what happened to May in the present part of the story, meaning that there isn't a lot of tension, more just learning the details of what happened. But Lou's story isn't all that better. Lou isn't a particularly proactive character - outside of insisting she goes to York with May, she doesn't really do a lot, just allowing herself to be pushed and pulled with the whims of both witches and market. It's only in the last section, where she goes back to help Eitra, that she really takes matters into her own hands. She's static thanks to the greater focus on Laura and May; Laura and May are static because their story is flashback, because it can only lead to the point at which we started. And certain things are made obvious by the framing - obviously the older goblin lady helping Lou is Eitra, there's nobody and nothing else she could be. The narrative doesn't even bother with a big reveal of that to the reader! Eitra just casually tells Lou her name, and so any sense of threat Lou could have from her is instantly negated.

And the worldbuilding here…sort of isn't? It's established that the people of York are fully in on the goblins and magic, but not a lot of time is spent among them exploring that. What is the Market, when it's being enticing? It's built up as a threat so much that, purely under the logic of the book, I struggle to understand why people actually go there. Even when May or Louisa are being drawn in, there's still lurid descriptions of market stalls selling human body parts. Do the genuine revellers…just look past that? If we saw the Market from their perspective, it'd add a lot to our understanding of it, but the narrative doesn't seem that interested in it. Furthermore, the whole 'Laura and May are on the verge of their witch graduation' thing doesn't come up until halfway through the book. Nor does the magic ice that can kill goblins. And what worldbuilding and exposition there is just seems to circle around a few key points, so I was sick of hearing about the Market and the fruits and the Doctrine and this and that over and over and over again.

I feel like I've been too negative on this book, though. The fact is that it did have some good ideas. The Goblin Market in itself is not a bad concept, and some of the manifestations of its creepiness did genuinely work. The bleakness of the lower levels Lou traverses came through quite well, even if the overworld was not shiny enough to contrast it. May was a fairly engaging character, with her struggles with sexuality and obvious attraction to women caught up with the Market and the traumas she underwent there. This book had a lot of promise, that's what I'm trying to get across. it's just that the actual narrative as-writ didn't quite live up to that promise.

Next…sigh. I've put this off long enough. Back to the House of Night.

[once-upon-a-pirate-ship]

totally dumb and completely ridiculous (or: words to describe falling in love)

read my newest fic on AO3 here!

or, below the cut

summary: Emma Swan doesn't do love. She doesn't do romance, she doesn't do dates--none of it. Even if there's a charming professor hanging around who's tempting her to break her own rules.

just under 2k words

rated t for language

you can read my other fics on AO3 here!

taglist friends: I'm sorry again, I'll get the list and I'll fix it, I swear.

Emma Swan didn’t do love.

She didn’t do relationships or even dates and especially not ones with flowers and pink dresses and reservations and walks after dinner in the breeze that lifted off the water. She wasn’t the sentimental type, she wasn’t the type to sit by the phone, waiting for a ring or a buzz with a message from some guy. 

Maybe this stemmed from her independent-to-a-fault personality, maybe it came from one too many dates gone bad—or maybe she just wasn’t cut out for that kind of thing.

Love.

The thought of it made her stomach spin. That was something she hated about butterflies, too—how could you tell if your gut was screaming at you to run if there were stupid bugs flying around clogging up the alarm?

She’d spent years clipping their wings so they couldn’t make her fly. She didn’t want to fly. Flying meant leaving the ground, it meant letting your feet do something other than stay firmly planted in reality and reason. Flying meant feeling. 

So, naturally, the second she met Belle’s colleague—he was a professor, for fuck’s sake—and those butterflies started planning out aerial formations, she brought out her metaphorical scissors. 

Three weeks later, she created The List. Sketched out on a back page in her notebook:

Reasons Why I’m Not Romantically Available

     1. My schedule is chaos. 

Finishing her degree online was good in theory, but that theory failed to take into account that she still had to work and make money and also somehow maybe find time to sleep in between all of that.

     2. Money.

She didn’t exactly have the disposable income to spend on fancy date outfits or meals out. Plus, grilled cheese was one of her main food groups, and that wasn’t suitable Date Food.

     3. I don’t even like the guy. 

He was too charming, absolutely not sincere, totally a player. No matter what Belle had said. 

     4. He definitely doesn’t like me, so it’s not even worth making a list over. 

He refused to even say her first name—not exactly a sign of affection, right?

She frowned at the list, the one she’d written out instead of taking notes for her upcoming quiz. Four was barely a list. 

She huffed, pushing the notebook away from her and letting the pen clatter over it, a small line of ink marring the last point from the way she’d thrown it. This was so dumb, and she knew it. It was nothing, really. There was…nothing. 

This must’ve been a sign that she’d been hanging around David and Mary Margaret too much. She was reading into things. Trying to find romance where there wasn’t any. Even though she didn’t, as a rule, do romance. 

She took a fortifying swig of her hot cocoa, dragging her notebook back and turning it to a clean sheet, determined to do the thing she was actually supposed to be doing. She was so close to finishing, and she wasn’t going to let some guy distract her from it. 

—

Her last final taunted her. Her homemade study guide was its accomplice, and every single time she tried to read, it made her brain flutter around without a care in the world and without consideration for her final grade. 

She couldn’t afford to make a mistake now. She was practically there, her fingers twitched with the thought of holding the tangible evidence of her success, a diploma in all its glory after so many years. She was so goddamn close. 

But she hadn’t been able to focus for like a whole month. And her chest ached from trying to latch a tether onto it—she was so sick of that unsettled feeling, that wandering, that dread mingling with sick curiosity—none of it made sense.

It didn’t make sense that her hands trembled against her keyboard, like she was terrified of the words she wouldn’t write. It didn’t make sense that her jaw kept itself locked into a place she’d never gone, tension snapping her into bits and pieces. 

Her frustration with herself bubbled up at inconvenient times, it mocked her for a poorly written sentence, it buried a knife in her gut when she missed a question on a practice quiz. She’d been pushing herself for years, doing her best and practicing to do better and she’d always been able to let some part of her believe that she could do this, but now, at the end, when it really mattered? 

She was three steps from the top of this goddamn mountain, and her shoes were untied. 

In this analogy, she was clumsier. 

She couldn’t track it. She couldn’t break it into bite-sized fragments of logic that she could comprehend. She’d just been feeling like this with everything, all the time, since—

Fuck.

There wasn’t a glow of a lightbulb over her head, but there was a fairly satisfying click in her brain when she finally figured it out. 

It wasn’t her fault. 

The relief she felt from that thought was powerful, but it wasn’t more powerful than the irritation at the person whose fault it was. 

She didn’t care that it wasn’t fair to blame him, she was just glad that she didn’t have to blame herself anymore. And maybe it was the easy way out of this emotional circle of hell, but she had to do what she had to do. 

She grabbed her keys. 

She must’ve looked ridiculous, plodding to her car in slippers and sweats and what was quite possibly the oldest t-shirt she owned, but once again, she didn’t care. 

She didn’t care that in the six times she’d seen him she’d cataloged enough information to know exactly what street to turn on—it should’ve pissed her off that she remembered that it was Tuesday and he had a class after six every Tuesday and then he went to his office and did the grading he refused to pass off to his TA, because my students are here for an education from me, Swan, and they don’t deserve feedback from some ponce who has yet to learn how to read a clock. 

It was ridiculous, it was all so ridiculous, and she muttered that under her breath all the way there, her fingers thudding uneasily against the wheel. 

Three dinners at her friends’ houses, two coffees with Belle that turned into two coffees with more than just Belle, and one birthday party for Ruby at their local bar—she’d ignored the hardly subtle comments from not one but three of her friends, she’d ignored the suggestive glances they’d given her, she’d ignored the nagging in her gut that wanted to tell her things about him.

She’d sat beside Belle, across from him, and she’d tried so hard not to listen to the voice telling her that he understood. Just because he met her gaze when she’d fallen silent after a particular comment from Mary Margaret about the concept of home didn’t mean that he knew what it was like to grow up without one. And at coffee that first time, just because he’d supplied Belle with the perfect conversation to distract from her unanswered question did not mean that he recognized her need to evade the subject until she was ready to deal with it. And just because he—

It was so fucking dumb. 

It was dumb that she felt her heart twist right there in her chest when she saw his name on the directory, telling her to go up the stairs and down the hall.

It was especially dumb that she hesitated at his door, because she’d come all this way, and she wasn’t a coward, and all she really knew was that she absolutely had to do well on this last final and—

Well, that wasn’t the only thing she knew.

He was wearing his glasses when he opened the door, his hair ruffled as if he’d had his hand through it one too many times while grading. His pen was still in his hand.

“Swan,” he greeted, happier to see her than he should’ve been. Or maybe he just should’ve seemed more confused. His brow furrowed when his eyes trailed down to her slippers. 

Irritation bubbled within her to hide the embarrassment. “We need to talk.”

His lips quirked into that half-smirk. “I find that when a woman says that—”

She rolled her eyes, pushing past him into his office.

“By all means, come in.”

And then she was just standing there in front of him, in that stupid t-shirt that she should’ve thrown out at least four years ago, and he was there, waiting expectantly. Because she’d come all this way to interrupt him.

“What can I do for you, love?”

Her hands itched at her sides; she tugged them into fists. “This is all your fault,” she snapped. It wasn’t exactly what she’d planned to say, but she’d said it.

Killian took half a step back, his eyebrows shooting up. “My fault?”

“Yes!” she cried. “I have things to do, Jones. Important things. Finals I need to finish—you are familiar with the concept, aren’t you?”

“Aye,” he replied, partially amused, partially concerned. 

“I have goals. A checklist. Things I’m gonna do—things I have to do. And I can’t afford to waste a whole night of studying all because I—” She snapped her mouth shut, her chest heaving slightly from the exertion of anger. 

“Because you…what?”

Her jaw went rigid. “You.”

“Me?”

She practically growled, “Yes, you.” She crossed to him, an accusing finger landing on his chest. “You. I can’t get you out of my fucking head and that’s so unacceptable. I have goals, Killian Jones. No one is going to stop me from achieving those goals, not even you.”

He blinked a few times, confusion and slight indignation dissolving into wonder as he stared at her. “You…?”

She grit her teeth, withdrawing from him to relocate closer to the door where she could think better. His proximity made the butterfly army into a butterfly armada. 

“Swan,” he murmured.

Her gaze fixed on her stupid slippers. “This is ridiculous,” she huffed. She hated this. She hated feeling things. She hated that she wanted to feel things. 

“Swan,” he repeated, closer this time, and her head snapped up, her gaze locking with his. The sea churned in his blue eyes, even behind the frames of his glasses, and she was so fucking adrift. An absolute goner. 

“You’ve been in my thoughts as well—though I have no desire to banish you from them,” he said, his voice warm and tender. “I quite enjoy your company, Swan, and when I’m not fortunate enough to have you around, thoughts and memories ease a bit of that…pain.”

“Pain?” she echoed, her eyes frantically searching his for evidence of a lie she knew she wouldn’t find.

“I miss you, Emma. I’m not entirely certain that I’m allowed the privilege of missing you, but I’m afraid I can’t help it at this point.”

She swallowed, trying to find her feet just to know she was grounded. “I…”

He took her silence as a reply, stepping back and away from her. And that was the moment she felt like her feet lost hold of the ground. 

“Wait, Killian—” She caught his arm, tugging him back or meeting him somewhere in the middle, she wasn’t quite sure which. 

“Emma?”

He glanced down to see his hand now entwined with hers, and her heart roared at the sight of the pink that tinged his cheeks. And she’d been wrong. It wasn’t quite flying. It was landing. It was coming home. 

At least, that was what it felt like when their lips met. 

[nancypullen]

Hole in One

Alrighty! I returned home from Florida yesterday, racing ahead of storms the whole way. The mister and I arrived in our driveway around 5 o'clock and I immediately dumped suitcases and started laundry. I had to get a jump on things, it's just a week until Christmas and I can't be bogged down with run of the mill chores - I have stuff to do! My visit with my mom and sister was fun, we spent most of it shopping and eating, the two sacred female activities. I had hoped to get a haircut while I was down there since the Denton stylists have done me wrong (fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice...they've fooled me twice already). But there just weren't any appointments available. I'm tempted to get a short hairstyle, even though I don't like my face with short hair. It might be easier as far as wash and dry, but I'd have to maintain it with cuts every six to eight weeks so that's actually higher maintenance. Looks like I will sail into old age with pony tails and Farrah layers. At this point I really don't care. My mother suggested I just let it grow and sport a long braid. That appeals to me - seems like a very artsy, slightly hippie vibe, and I'm a fan of that. It may also mean I've given up. You win, hair.

My sister's birthday was on our schedule for the visit. We celebrated with presents, a good dinner, and dessert. She said that she wanted a fruit platter instead of a cake, and the birthday girl's wishes are supposed to come true.

We didn't get to light those candles. She'd contracted the plague right before traveling and no one wanted her blowing all over the fruit. It wasn't covid, but she spent most of the trip coughing, dripping, and blowing. Not fun for her at all. On the other hand, if you have stock in facial tissue or Sudafed she boosted your profits. Merry Christmas. Still, a good time was had by all and then we flew away to our respective nests. And speaking of flying, on my way down to Florida I gave the gift that keeps on giving - laughter. Apparently, choosing to fly comfortably in my favorite old jeans was a mistake. They broke up with me on this trip. We parted ways.

Sadly, I was unaware that it had happened. I have no idea how long I walked around showing the world my underwear. I had a three hour layover in Atlanta where I walked around and around and up and down. Escalators, trains, jetways - you're welcome holiday travelers. Enjoy telling your friends about the lady in front of you who didn't know her pants had split. It wasn't until I arrived at my mother's house that my sister pointed out that it looked like I'd "had a blow out". Of course. It wasn't even because they were tight, they weren't, just really, really old. They'd been washed a million times, I suppose I should have checked them for thinning spots. Naturally travel day was the day the threads just couldn't hold on another minute. Oh well. If you were in the Atlanta airport on December 12th and saw an old lady's underwear, speak kindly of her. She didn't know. Today I'm doing the bare minimum. I have a very busy few days ahead and no rest in sight until the new year. I feel myself coming down with my sister's cold, or maybe it was given to me by any of the hundreds of people hacking and snorting in the airports and on planes. I have too much to do to be sick, so I'm going to pretend it's not happening. I'm ready for Christmas, but not all of the meals involved. I'll be feeding a crowd from the 22nd through, I think, the 29th. Other than Xmas dinner I'm keeping it simple. A big pot of chili one night, sheet pan suppers, maybe a pasta bake with rotini and meatballs, definitely something in the crockpot one night. I'm out of ideas. None of that sounds delicious to me, and certainly not as healthy as we'd normally eat, but I just need to get through that week of meals. No one will die from it.

So I'm making my grocery list and checking it twice, then I'm going to wash my hair, and finish up a little laundry. Mickey has a photo club meeting tonight so I'm just making quick taco bowls (seasoned ground turkey, black beans, cauliflower rice, tomato & onion, etc) for dinner. I may spend the evening watching Hallmark movies and pretending I live in one of those adorable fictional towns. I'll be the struggling bakery owner trying to charm the big city exec who represents the corporation trying to buy out my little shop. We'll fall in love somewhere between the obligatory snowball fight and accidentally bumping into each other under the mistletoe. Although I'm strapped for cash I'll wear a different designer coat and new boots in every scene. In the end he won't be able to resist me and my fabulous wardrobe and he'll surprise me by becoming a silent investor in my bakery and dropping to one knee in front of the town's giant Christmas tree (or an ice skating rink, your choice). The predictable plot lines are what I love about them. I hope your week has been better than split pants and sneezes, and that you spend your evening feeling cozy and content. That's my goal. The countdown to Santa has begun and I couldn't be happier. Let's do this! Sending out lots of love. Stay safe, stay well, go ahead and have another cookie. XOXO, Nancy

[purposefully-lost]

"Jack?"

Christine felt a nervous rush through her chest when the boy turned to look at her. She wasn't even sure if he'd noticed she was here until now; she'd spent most of the night at the edge of the room, taking photos for anyone who wanted to make use of the backdrop they'd hung up and idly watching the dance after most people had already stopped by. She'd only noticed him doing much the same in the last half hour or so. He didn't seem to be keeping to himself any less than usual, on the opposite wall in a suit that was ill-fitting enough to be sort of charming. She hadn't yet seen anyone with him, either. It wasn't until one of the chaperones had dismissed her to go enjoy the rest of the night that she found herself walking towards him.

Those stupid eyes of his were no less striking when he looked over at her, widened slightly in surprise. "Uh. Hi," he said, seeming to look her over.

She felt her face warm and fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest. Jack had never seen her dressed like this and she would've honestly had it stay that way. The dress was pretty when it was on a hanger, sure, a powdery blue that her mom said matched her eyes, but on her body she'd just found it awkward. Something about her shoulders-- like they were either too broad or too sloped for the fabric to hang correctly, even though her mom insisted it fit perfectly fine. "Hi," she replied, trying to smile. "I, um. I- I've been doing pictures," she continued, nodding back towards the booth and not sure why she'd even mentioned that at all. "I just thought, if you.. came with someone, or- or just wanted a picture, or something.."

"Oh. I saw." Jack offered a smile of his own, in the small, nervous way he tended to. She was finally admitting to herself that it was cute, though she didn't know what to do with that sort of thought. A boy's smile could be cute without her wanting anything more to do with it, anyway. "I'm fine, though."

"That's okay." Honestly, it was a little relieving. She was tired of taking couples' photos. "Did you.. come with anyone?" She continued, though she was almost sure he hadn't. It wasn't like he'd mentioned anyone when they'd last spoken in class. Then again, maybe he just hadn't mentioned anyone to her. "I- I didn't really think I'd see you here, honestly. Doesn't seem like your kind of thing."

Jack shrugged. "Might as well stop in," he answered. He glanced warily out towards the floor and she followed his gaze, landing on one of his brothers. Desmond seemed adequately distracted with a date, though, and she didn't really care what he thought of anything. She'd never quite figured out if Jack did. "Not.. with anyone, though. Just me. Uh..." He turned back to her, his gaze taking a moment to find her eyes, though she wasn't quite sure if he was looking elsewhere or if it was just a part of his normal shyness. Either way, it made her face feel warm again. "Did.. you? Have someone?"

"Just me," she replied. A small, more genuine smile tugged at her lips, and they held each other's gaze for a moment before breaking into something of a nervous giggle. She watched Jack reach up to brush a lock of hair from his face, then fall right back down, leaving her tempted to fix it herself. Pulling her eyes away instead, she looked at the small crowd that was still dancing. "This whole thing is.. kind of stupid," she said.

"Yeah. A little." Jack leaned back against the wall, letting out a breath. "I'm.. not even sure why I came."

The current song was starting to fade out. They were hitting the end of the night, the track list turning to slower, sappier numbers. Chris bit the inside of her cheek and listened to the first few notes of the next song before she glanced towards Jack. If he hadn't come with anyone, he probably hadn't danced. Not that it was necessary, but it also was sort of the whole point of these things, wasn't it? She hadn't danced with anyone either and she probably wouldn't have come at all if not for club duties, but then again, if both of them were without a partner... then she needed to just spit it out before the night ended.

"Do you--"

"Would--"

They both paused. Jack's lips were parted, then pressed shut, his eyes wide and mortified. Chris wasn't fairing much better, staring at him for a moment before she remembered how to breathe. Then she laughed a little, feeling like she was burning up as she picked at the top of her dress sleeve. There was no guarantee that they'd been about to ask to the same question, but she she continued anyway. "Um. Do you want to dance?"

Jack's eyes were no less wide whe she looked at him again. But he seemed to find himself, giving her something that wasn't quite a smile when he nodded. "Sure."

"Just to say we did."

"Y- yeah." Jack didn't exactly seem keen to lead the way and neither was she, but she finally held out her hand. There was a small jolt from her chest when his own settled in hers, warm and solid. Offering another nervous smile, she pulled him towards an empty space on the floor, then turned to face him. Neither moved to pull any closer.

An awkward beat, and Chris laughed a little. "Hands on my waist, Stone."

"Oh Yeah," he agreed. And then, finally, he smiled something more like a real smile, letting out a breath of a laugh as he moved to oblige. She let her arms settle over his shoulders, and suddenly they were closer than they'd ever been.

The thing about Jack Stone was that he was very pretty. He had a sweet, handsome face, and when she could get him to smile, it made him all the prettier. Others called him Rabbit because of the scar and his teeth, but those were traits she liked about him. It was never clear to her how others didn't find them charming. Especially when he was glancing at her like he was now, wearing a nervous smile.

Shit. Christine followed as he started to sway with the music, acutely aware of the weight of his hands on either side of her. It'd take little more than a single step to close the distance left between them. She didn't like him like that, except she sort of really did, and this wasn't helping matters. It only took them a few lines of the song to fall comfortably in time with it, but the nervous beat of her heart when she met Jack's eyes didn't slow. The fingers of his left hand seemed to follow the music, drumming nervously against her. "Uh," he started, his voice even softer here than it'd been next to the wall. "That- the dress looks good. On you."

Really, really wasn't helping. Her gaze fell to his chest instead of his eyes and she wondered just how obvious the color in her face was. "Thanks. ..I like the suit."

"It's fine," he replied. A glance up told her that he didn't really agree. She gave him a smile and a small shrug.

"Not as bad as Mister Anderson's," she said in a whisper. A glance around and he was letting out a small giggle with her.

They went through the last few songs of the night like that. Sharing their small space on the dance floor and trading whispers between them. She realized after a while that it was maybe the most she'd ever heard him speak. The opposite was probably true. It got easier as the music droned on to study his face without feeling unsure of it, to talk without second-guessing herself. Without realizing it, she'd stepped a little closer to him to better hear him, her arms wrapped around his neck rather than laying over his shoulders. Idly, Jack reached up to push a piece of hair out of her eyes. She did the same for him with a quiet laugh.

The last song was fading out much sooner than she'd like. She hadn't actually expected to want the night go on any longer-- but she did want to keep talking to Jack. They still lingered in each other's hold for a moment once the music ended, Jack biting his lip as he looked down at her. Finally, she laughed and took a step away from him, breaking the dizzying sort of spell he'd had her under.

"I.. guess we danced." Jack smiled. "We can say that now."

"I guess we can." Christine returned a small giggle. If she had her license, she thought she might invite him out with her. That was a normal thing, right? A late dinner with friends after the formal? Maybe they could walk, if he agreed. It wasn't far, and--

The voice of one of the teachers called her name. And she had to stay and help clean up. Club duties. Sighing, she looked up at him, lingering for just a moment more. "Uh.. thanks," she told him, searching his gaze. "You weren't half bad."

"Yeah. Um, you too." Jack scratched at his wrist, still smiling. "Thanks."

Biting her lip, Christine nodded and started to take a step back. The photo booth wasn't going to clean up itself. Except..

She stepped forwards, letting the impulse carry her as she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Pulling away, she flashed him a wide and nervous grin. "Thanks," she repeated, then turned and retreated before she could catch his reaction. She wasn't sure she wanted to know and her heart was racing hard enough already.

Behind her, Jack stood frozen, his face cherry-red as he watched the blue dress blend into what crowd remained.

[aelfgiure]

It shouldn't have been such a surprise to me, really. We had the actual lived experience of the covid pandemic to inform us, less than 20 years ago - but goddamn, people were stupid. Willfully, arrogantly, belligerently stupid. Proud of staying ignorant, blatting away about conspiracy and libtards, right up to the moment they had their guts ripped out by former friends, former family.

When I first saw the news, I tried to stay calm. I did my research - yes, actual research with the Public Health community - then spent a day indulging myself in a hideous drunken panic attack. Then the day to recover, because goddamn, I'm not in my 20s anymore and can't just do that shit like I used to.

Anyways.

My friends were up to speed as fast as I was, and we pooled our resources in a hurry. We had our location picked out beforehand, and that was what saved us. Our location, our resources, our skill sets, all of those would've meant nothing if we hadn't jumped when we did. We're still dealing with guilt, you know. The people that laughed us off, told us we were overreacting to something that was going to get contained and eliminated quickly, they're all dead now. Worse than dead, unless we saw them in a herd and dropped them ourselves, which only added to the grief and pain.

You want to know how long it took for civilization to utterly wreck itself? Three months. THREE MOTHERFUCKING MONTHS. All over the damn globe, that's all it took. Ninety-goddamn-days for the whole thing to collapse. I'm still shaken by the whole thing, how fucking fast it all went downhill. The only plus side to the speed of the collapse? The assorted nations didn't have time to start a fucking nuclear war over this, and for small mercies like that I am honestly, truly grateful. No nuclear war, no attempt at making things worse because we all know how people functioned back then, no time to do anything but scramble to survive and salvage what they could, if they even had time for that.

It's been hard. Not going to lie, there are days when I'm lying in my bed, here in our compound, and I'm tempted to suck-start my .9mil, because it's so, so hard. Yeah, I'm safe, our compound is safe and functional, we have electricity and all the comforts of modern living. My husband is dead, I haven't heard from my daughter in three years, most of the people I knew are gone, except for this crazy ass lot of us, here in this repurposed event center. I could list off the things I miss, the people I miss, but that would take days and only add to my depression, so we'll skip that.

The stupid part of it all? I have hope. Still, even now, I have hope that we can make it through this and come out of this as better people than we were Before. Here in the Redoubt, for example, couple of my friends who couldn't stand each other, they work together now. Not the grudging, barely holding in the snarl, sort of work together, either, but they're allies and brothers in arms, respecting each other. It's not just them, either, it's been across the whole thing, the whole area that we've managed to enclose and protect. If you have a pulse, we can be friends, seems to be the current motto of the human race and yeah, that's something I dreamed about Before. Seeing it in action is beautiful. Maybe we can learn from this and grow the fuck up as a planet, right?

It's going to be a long time before we can clean this mess up enough to start rebuilding, though. One day at a time, one breath. One pulse. I have hope. That's what keeps me waking up, holstering the pistol, and going to whatever work I need to do. Stupid, goddamn, persistent hope.

When the zombie apocalypse came, you were prepared. What you weren’t prepared for was how quickly it ended.

[anchoredtetherart]

Me: *starts an art of all the Paladins back in March*

Me: *puts it on the backburner for 638 years*

Me: *now goes to work on said art but I have changed my style and references for all the characters but Pidge and Coran*

Me: WHAT THE CHEESE

[ratherbefangirling]

Blind for you ; one more time

Yandere Taehyung x Toxic Darling Reader

Warning: mentioned drugging, yandere themes, he contemplates hurting her 😢, stalker.

Previously in the same universe ✨

You hadn't expected a follow-up meeting so it had been a surprise when Taehyung had asked to meet again.

"Let's go the park garden." Honestly you had just wanted to try the swings again.

"You fit in quite well with the flowers" Taehyung's voice says as you pluck some flowers from the garden.

"I thought you were a party boy aesthetic but you are very nature core today."

Taehyung laughs amused.

"Baby I'm what all the girls want." Taehyung teases taking one of the flowers and removing some petals.

"Good for you." You say unbothered.

He places the flower in the fold of your ear.

You start humming a soft tune as the two of you walk together.

Later he would learn all about all your habits and find joy in them.

His home would be drenched with your voice and he wouldn't find it bothersome at all. How strange.

All of a sudden a biker comes and you busy with your little wildflower bouquet don't notice it.

Taehyung is tempted to see how you would react if he pushed you toward the biker.

Still instead he pulls you towards him.

The momentum and the muddy ground make you fall over him.

Even the flower tucked in your ear falls on the ground.

But the two of you are two entangled to notice.

Close up you see how one of his eye is monolid and the other double lidded.

He is handsome, a fact you never denied.

Maybe it's the warmth of his body or the weather, maybe it's just the fact he just saved you. Like a Knight in shining armor.

That you press your lips to his, grinning as you disengage. There are butterflies in your stomach.

He sits up and you are still on your knees. Your pants ruined by the muddy ground.

Hands on your waist pull you closer to him and he slots his mouth against yours.

And there is something about Taehyung's stare that you stop trying to stand up.

In the background, there are gasps and a mother scolds their child and giggling and sounds of birds and traffic.

Had you heard all that it would be music to your ears but all you did manage to hear was the blood rushing in your ears.

"Next time you kiss me. Do it properly." He says in the same monotonous manner and you can't help but smile adoring, so euphoric that your eyes close and cheeks widen impossibly.

Between the two of you, you had thought Taehyung would not be the clingy one.

But every morning you woke up clamped in his embrace. As cute as Taehyung looked with fluff ball for hair, you really didn't like being touched as you slept.

Taehyung had to train you for a whole year before you could sleep in his arms.

He had coaxed you with gifts first. Getting you all bed necessities and accessories. Your shared bedroom had turned into a heaven for anyone who could want sleep.

A canopy, plushies various types of night lights, weighted blankets with the perfect texture, soft comfortable high quality linen and pajamas.

Even though Taehyung wasn't very fond of wearing clothes for sleeping.

Still you'd be nothing more than a stiff log in his arms. That's when he started putting sleeping pills in your food. It wasn't much just enough to make you drowsy. The fact you didn't want to leave the bed in the morning was just the added benefit.

He even convinced you to leave your job claiming it was making you too tired to function.

Staying home had more benefits you realised. You spent your time doing all the things you wanted to do.

As long as other people weren't involved Taehyung wasn't too bothered. Which you kind of found funny.

-×-

You decided to visit your in-laws with homecooked food even though it did take a while for you to make something decent enough but what was YouTube for other than binging on videos which you had no practical value for.

You dressed up nicely trying to keep makeup minimal because your in laws were going to judge you.

You think they're happy with you, just wait until they replace you with someone better.

The voice inside haunted you.

One may ask why you still wanted to do anything for them. Simply because they were the parents of the man you loved. Also if needed you could use them against Taehyung.

Despite your reservations your mother in law is kind to you.

The day is going pleasantly until Taehyung calls you.

"Where are you?"

"Im at your parents house."

"What are you doing there... nevermind I'm coming to pick you up?"

"Ok baby miss you come soon." You reply

"Oh no. Don't try to sweet talk baby you're not escaping your punishment."

"Don't say such things it's making me run to you before you come."

Taehyung laughs and you feel butterflies in your stomach.

"See you soon jagi." The call ends.

"Was that Taehyung?" Your mother in law asks.

"Yes Mom. He's coming."

"It's good next time I want my son over I will just kidnap you." She jokes and you really wonder what would he do to his mother if she takes you away from him.

When Taehyung comes you feel shivers on your spine from his gaze but infront of his family he turns into a lovely favourite son.

"What a nice couple." Your mother in law says.

"Your babies would be so cute. Isn't that right Taehyung's dad."

His father nods.

"It's good to be young now let the couple go wife." He says.

"Let me take this." Taehyung says taking the containers his mom had packed for them.

You come to him who's placing the containers in the trunk.

"You really like testing my patience no?" He say draping an arm around your shoulder other on your waist.

"It's the joy of my days." You return.

"You're lucky I like playing with you, otherwise I would have snapped this enticing neck of yours."

You turn to him hugging him.

"If you were to kill me I would die happy."

"If it counts for something I think you will be beautiful even I'm death unlike others."

"Really do you think of killing other people too. It makes me sad." You say the last part cutely.

"Not really killing houseflies isn't murder."

"Good."

And Taehyung had things to say like don't treat yourself so lightly because your life was his but you were warm and his old house didn't feel like it would suck him when he was with you.

Who you are really doesn't matter to Taehyung. To him you are but an object of his affection, the manifestation of his love.

Once he had tried to love someone, love them like he was a prince of the fairytale and had recieved only betrayal in return.

True love was nothing but a joke.

But what you both had matrimony. It was a contract.

In sickness and in health. For richer and poorer. Till death do us apart.

He liked it. He didn't know how much you knew. But he liked you so much.

His angels had told him. You were the one.

And his angels never lied.

It really was destiny to find you.

You who instead of getting mad at his possessive behaviour saw his want. Instead of his jealousy saw the fear of loosing you.

And with you it was easy to be himself. You didn't chastise him when he kept marking your skin for days so much that there wasn't much of it that wasn't bruised. You never complained about missing out on any social events. Though that might be due to your anxiety.

In the distance someone watched you.

You felt shivers down your spine.

"Taehyung let's go home." You say suddenly.

Taehyung looks at you only for a moment before nodding.

The whole ride you don't let his hand go.

From the shadows a man steps into the light.

"Did you really think someone can take you from me?" He wondered. "Don't worry Y/n-ie I'm going to find you really soon and then we will be together forever."

The man whistled a soft tune before disappearing under the night.

Lmao I really thought the last one was the end 💀

Anyhow if you liked it let me know ok?

Have a nice day because BTS loves you 💜 and so do I 💟

[moonlightknightess]

I'm sorry please pretend this is an ask cuz I lost the og one 😭😭😭

But fr, I never thought this tbh abd I kinda like it 👀 as in a more MikaSasha aproach in which they are a couple and innocent Eren is just head over heels for them!

Eren never thought his first job in the photography field would be this overwhelming tbh, he just sent that curriculum to the Playboy's magazine as a joke! It wasn't supposed to work!

It's not he was complaining though, he certainly welcomed getting a job right fresh out of college to be honest, a well paid one on top of that!

Still, when he was told that his first photography session was gonna be with two of the most beautiful women he has ever laid eyes on, he knew he was kind of fucked

Mikasa and Sasha can perfectly be the best looking models Paradis has ever had, the two of them making a reputation out of Miss Universe participations and lots of big roles in hollywood's best movies, their beauty only matched by each others

The fact that they were currently working on an more adult focused movie for which this photo session was for didn't help either

That's why, when being met by the sight of two gorgeous women in the world almost naked if it wasn't for their panties, he couldn't help but getting a hard on right there

He knew he was not being professional, but he was trying his best! It's wasn'y easy for him considering how he spent most of his years at college jusy focused on his career, for fucks sake the only reason why he got a girlfriend was because she asked him first! He didn't have that much experience at all

It was way more embarrassing for him when Sasha realized why was he so tight lipped, noticing the obvious bulge in his pants and teasing him about it

Mikasa on the other hand couldn't be described in other way than an angel, he couldn't help but feel more relieved when she started defending him, castising Sasha for "not letting him do his work"

Everythig coursed normaly then, just Sasha poping some jokes here and there before they took they first brake for the day, Eren finding himself alone in the room woth the several photos of the most good looking and desired women of all Paradis and probably the world, the hard he got from earlier still raging on his pants

It didn't take him more than a couple of minutes before he was opening his pants and was letting his above average lenght out... It wouldn't harm anyone if he jerked a quick one right here, right? It's not like they would know, and it wouldn't count as cheating on her partner either, right?

The constant pump on his lenght made his toes curl into themselves, his eyes taking into the sight of Mikasa beautiful ass covered in a plain pair of cotton panties that was way too little to contain it, Sasha's hold on them making him feel actual jealousy of her

The sudden knock of the door being opened froze him still, the gasp os air he heard behind him making him realize he fucked it up for real this time

- See? I told you! He was jerking to our photos! - He really wanted to answer back, decline to accusations, but little could he do when he was caught with his dick oozing pre cum on the floor and he had the camera that he used for the entire photo session on the hand, his head lowering in shame as they came closer

- Is that right, Eren? - Mikasa asked him, voice so soothing and calm despite the fact of seeing someone jerking up to her photos right in front of her

He struggled hard to come up with a good excuse, maybe even blame them for being so sexy and tempt him! But he knew better than blaming them for his lack of control, admitting that yes, indeed, he was jerking up to them

Still, he didn't thought that their response would be hugging him from his back, setting in the floor where he was, Mikasa's lithe fingers taking a hold of his hot lenght as she whispefed to her ear - Poor thing... it must have been painful holding yourself this whole time... Right? -

He didn't know what to think there, his head a mess as Sasha made everything worse by holding his tip on her hand, her lips on his other ear as she asked him - You really wanted to jerk off right as soon as you saw us, didn't you?~ -

The combined effort of Mikasa pumping him up and down and Sasha teasing his tip was straight up unbearable, his only break coming in the form of his sweet girfriend video calling him

Mikasa answered the call way before he could even do something, her smiling face at seeing him crumpling down little by little at the sight of two women who she swears she has seen before somewhere

- You might want to call later, sweetie - Mikasa said to the girl, giving Eren a small peck on the cheek as she did so - Your boyfriend is busy right now - the sudden snap of her hand on his cock made him moan in surprise, Sasha on the other side grimacing and taking the oportunity to attack his mouth, the call just ending in the perfect frame of Sasha kissing him, meanwhile he had the mortified expression of her sweetheart from college froze in his phone

- I hope this serves as a lesson, kid - She said as she stopped devouring his mouth, threads os saliva connecting their mouths together as Mikasa took her oportunity to have some fun for her own too

The hold of both their hands on his cock was becomind scorching hot at this point, jerking him up so fast it actually hurted, his body not enduring their sweet torture and coming undone in their hold, ropes of cum landing on his chest and clothes as they gathered his ooze in ther fingers

Post nut clarity hits him like a truck the moment he realizes that her girlfriend kept calling him several times, the two women that became his doom taking his attention off the electronic device as they whispered in each of his ears how they weren't done with him yet...-

Ngl i don't even know what I tried to do here, I just know I wanted to do mean MikaSasha toying with Eren for a change lol

[ryanlockheart]

sydney and maddox were a surefire pair. the senior had known it the second he'd laid eyes on that broad-shouldered male with muscles bulging out of his tank top. he'd always gotten what he wanted, and maddox wasn't going to be the exception to that rule. he just needed to devise a plan to capture his attention; hence, the whole slutty halloween costume he'd worn to the party. it had worked well enough to get him exactly just what he needed. sydney already had gotten a load all over his face and guzzled his piss like it was nothing. he was a happy camper to say the least. "oh, i'll have to pay, huh? sounds like you're tempting me now," sydney answered back teasingly, his digits dancing across maddox's collarbone. there was a smile on his pink lips. the buzz he'd gotten off a few drinks wasn't anything compared to the high he got off maddox, and that much was apparent to anyone with eyes. "as long as you don't mind being a brat tamer every now and then," sydney hummed. his hand roamed upward, wrapping a lock of maddox's hair around his finger. he was ultimately captivated by the freshman. he could've spent hours fiddling with his hair or raking his fingers over his chiseled chest. "all of the above, please and thank you," he eagerly replied. "i love bein' spoiled... and you're gonna love it even more when i start acting like a little brat 'cause of it," sydney started. he moved into whispered against maddox's ear, tongue darting across the lobe quickly before his teeth nibbled at the soft skin. "i'll let you in on a little secret though. quickest way to get me whipped back into shape'll be to take your sweaty shoe and put it on my face... or whippin' that fat cock out, shovin' it down my throat, and takin' a piss. from brat to gooner in a matter of seconds, daddy."

"if that's what my daddy wants, then that's what he'll get," sydney promised. "face buried in 'em while you all try to focus on the big game on tv. i'll be too busy sniffin' 'em to give a damn. and just wait 'til i get my tongue on 'em. i'll prolly start losin' clothes then. not that i'd be wearin' much anyways," he started to lay out the little fantasy. "i'll prolly get so gooned out that i might have to fuck 'em. will be like your boys aren't even there. i'll just be moaning and mewling and pounding away at those soft, sweaty feet. they'd love watchin', but eventually, they'd have to get the hell out... but y'know, they'll all be beggin' to come back 'round." sydney giggled to himself a little, hiding his face in maddox's neck, breathing in that manly musk. the more they dove into their filthy fantasies, the more worked up sydney got. he never thought he'd be truly used by a whole slew of guys, but maddox was going to make that little reverie come true. "i wouldn't want it any other way, daddy. i want them all at their sweatiest. i wanna have my face buried in feet, sweaty pits, and some fat asses. i wanna have to clean 'em head to toe," sydney hummed. "i'll be sneakin' in all the time. who knows? maybe one day the team'll walk in on me, nose buried in your jockstrap, fuckin' myself with a dildo. maybe i'll have my cock locked up, but i'm still so naughty. maybe i'll be in that cheerleader outfit you're gonna get me. i bet i'd get punished real good. you'll have to boss your teammates around. hell, you could have your coach join in too if you really wanted, daddy." no one, no thing could pry them apart. they were upfront about everything they'd each wanted, and somehow, it just made them want each other more. "a hundred percent... but your cock's the best of 'em all. i'd know it anywhere, daddy. i'd fuckin' bust just immediately once you slipped it in me, but i'd be too busy to say anything," sydney went on. his cock bounced up against the skirt adorning his hips, spurred on by their sordid little idea. "please, daddy. i want everyone to see it. i want 'em to see what limits you'll push me to," sydney gasped out. "i've even got a plug up in my room one of 'em can go get. you can make me hold your piss 'til you're ready again to touch me. i bet you'd fuckin' love that, having your piss all in this pink pussy.

sydney's cheeks burned red as maddox totally called him out. it was all true. he was glad maddox was on board with his unabashed lust. no one would ever please him like maddox, but that didn't mean he couldn't be a little slutty if maddox was down for it. "i am the best cockslut there ever was. all i need is permission from my daddy, and i'll be spreading my legs. i'll treat them so well they'll think they're royalty... but that's you, daddy. i'll always pull out all the stops for you, blow your mind," he replied, an eager quality to his soft-spoken voice. he knew that maddox was getting off to all of this, and that just made sydney want it more. if he humiliated himself in front of all of sigma chi, sydney knew it was worth it. he didn't care if his face ended up plastered all over social media as the resident cumdump of spellman university. it was all worth it to see that cocky smirk on maddox's face that just screamed 'i have the best little slut on the face of the planet and you know you want him but this is all you'll ever get because he's mine'... or at least that was what sydney told himself in his head. "everyone'll be beating your door down to get a round with this pussy," sydney said with a little giggle. "your teammates, your friends, nerds... hell, i bet your professors'll wanna get in on the action. you gonna turn this pussy out for a good grade on a paper? gonna let some nerd jizz in me to have him do your homework? gonna make me give one of your profs a good foot cleaning to get outta a test? i know you'll wanna," he went on. he was clearly on a roll. thinking about all that stuff had him so worked up. maddox putting him to work, letting his sexuality get put to good use to help maddox out... it was fucking hot. maddox completely owned him, and sydney wouldn't've had it any other way. "that woulda been hot, daddy... but you've got the real deal now. whenever you want 'em, i'll come runnin'. will be skippin' classes to make sure you get your fix."

maddox wasn't the type of person who gave up control very often, sydney could tell. he might've played a role for his parents, sure, but underneath it all, maddox was pulling the strings and figuring out his own life... sydney knew he was special if he could have maddox turning into a submissive little gooner in a few seconds with just his feet. that made him feel so powerful. no one could ever tell him shit again. "i'm gonna do just that for you, daddy. these socks i'm wearin' right fuckin' now. they're gonna be the ones. you're gonna be goonin' to these in a few weeks, daddy," sydney promised, a smirk on his smug little face. "i'll be runnin' to come take care off you. bet you'll have probably cum three times by then... which'll just mean i have to punish you. 's gonna be me fuckin' that tight little hole with my foot on your face, tellin' you what a little gooner footslut you are," he whispered. there was a fluttering in the pit of his stomach. he was nervous to say something like that. what if maddox didn't feel onboard with that much of a role reversal? of course, sydney would be fine with that if it wasn't something he wasn't interested in... but his nerves were growing in anticipation of maddox's response. "you're damn right, daddy. you want me to beg right here, right now? 'cause i will. maybe i want you to ride my face in front of all these boys. maybe i want you to tell me how pathetic i am for it too," sydney went on. "i'll be begging you all the time to breed it. i wanna work for it though. wanna earn the privilege of getting to fuck that virgin pussy, daddy. want you to feel ready, want you to love it."

sydney was in the middle of the sigma chi living room, back atop a coffee table. there were at least a dozen lusty freshmen staring at him like they were ready to pounce, and truth be told, sydney couldn't wait for them to. he would take every last single one of their cocks right then and there if he could've... but this way, at least, he got to linger in the moment, got to savor the musk and sweat and cum and bitter piss. it was heaven. "if you boys don't fuck my throat raw, if i have a fuckin' voice tomorrow, i'm gonna be pissed. i want you all to fuck my throat 'til i'm fuckin' cryin', 'til i have a face full of my own slobber," sydney told them all. he was exhilarated by all of the filthy. the fact the cameras were capturing it all minute by minute, that was even hotter to sydney, "you're right, daddy. they know," sydney agreed with a nod. he looked up at all the boys from his vantage point, feet covering up his sun-kissed face. "your feet... they're all so good," he choked out between licks delivered to each and every foot. "fuckin' real men. holy shit, i never should've counted y'all out. if i'd've known you all could put a pathetic little slut like me in their place, i would've never... h —" his voice was cut off by the welcomed load shot onto his face by the two freshmen boys. his tongue hung wide open, capturing most of one, but his face was still a wreck. some had even landed on some of the other boys' feet. sydney was quick to rub it off with his tastebuds. he swallowed it all down like nothing. he was practically a pro, but maddox was too enamored with his pussy to even notice — just the way he would've wanted it.

"tease me all you want, daddy. like i said, i wanna earn it. if i've gotta eat your ass out fifty times 'til my jaw locks, i fuckin' will," sydney admitted. there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced up at his lover. sure, he might've had cum all over his face, and sure he might've had a bunch of feet smearing it all over his features... but he didn't care at all. "i'll have to see that, daddy... but i know how to whip you into shape. know my cock'll do the trick, but maybe you'll be a little brat too. maybe you'll make me do this," sydney answered. he kicked his shoes off in a instant. his socked foot made its way to maddox's face, damp fabric pressed up against maddox's nose. he was in heaven, and it was all so overwhelmingly good. "l-love 'em," sydney stammered out as benji placed his foot on his face. his tongue was still paying attention to all of the boys, but he did his best to give ace and benji a really good time — considering they were going to be filling him up alongside maddox at the end of the night. he wanted to make sure they both gave it their all. his cock had spilled quite easily the biggest load of his life, but that hadn't stopped the eager freshmen at his waist. one of them took sydney's cock in his mouth, which only had him squirming more. his toes wiggled up against maddox's face in the process, not even intentionally. it was all so much he could barely process it at all. his jaw hung wide open, tongue extended. his eyes rolled into the back of his head, breathing in all of that manly musk. drool slipped from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. it would've been pathetic if sydney hadn't loved it so much. "daddy, holy fuck," he whined out as maddox slammed into his taut rim. he was convinced that maddox was crafted perfectly to please him. he already was pressing up against that sweet spot, like he had a map. he would cum again if maddox wasn't careful. "you're fuckin' huge. you're gonna turn me into a fuckin' pocket pussy," he breathed out... and he was right. his tanned abdomen was bulging out as maddox pressed deeper into him. sydney was a little pre-occupied to even notice, but he could feel maddox that deep — and nothing had ever felt better. he barely had time to process what was happening, but soon all the feet had disappeared. sydney was just relaxed back with his eyes screwed shut as his tongue hung wildly outside of his mouth... but then came the downpour of the golden liquid. his whole body was getting soaked — his chiseled chest, his face, his raven locks. piss pooled in his mouth at a rapid rate, and sydney guzzled it down like it was water. it filled up just faster than he could swallow it down, but he didn't care. sydney was enjoying himself far too much. sydney never wanted it to end. "d-daddy," sydney nearly wailed. "pl-please... need to cum again. please, let me. been such a good girl."

maddox had spent most of his life wanting what others had. he was never free to be himself around his family and friends, and he never allowed anyone to be close enough to poke holes in his very carefully curated persona. sydney was the first to turn those walls into rubble, the first to act like he genuinely cared about what he wanted or thought. maddox had never truly believed in 'soulmates,' and the whole concept of 'love at first sight' seemed outdated in an era where people pretended to be someone they weren't—but maddox believed that he finally met his match with sydney. "thank god, but if i wake up to any videos of me snoring my brains out posted online... you will have to pay," maddox chuckled. "i think you should let it get to your head, actually. i like when you're being a brat." maddox let out a short breath; feeling sydney's soft hands against his skin sending him into a near-euphoric state. no one had ever touched him with so much tenderness, or kissed his lips with so much passion—it was the kind of thing maddox never knew that he needed, until it was sitting right in front of him. "i know you are, princess. and i'm gonna make you the happiest girl in the world, whether that means that i'm taking you out on dates and buying you expensive gifts, or dicking you down in the senior suite every night. you're gonna be treated like a princess," maddox replied, giggling softly as sydney ran his hands through his hair. the sydney that sat in front of him wasn't the boy from all the rumors he heard. he thought he'd end up being the senior's glorified sex toy, but everything sydney described was sounding a lot more like a boyfriend. maddox didn't think he was ready for that, but then again—he didn't think he would be slutting it up in a room full of sigma chi frat members, either.

"maybe that's what i want, did you ever think about that? i already told you how much i love watching you be a little footslut," maddox said with a smirk. "fuck... that's so fucking hot, princess. thinking about you gooning out for my feet with a bunch of my friends around? they'd never stop looking at you, and i'd end up kicking 'em out to have fun with you instead." sydney tapped into all of maddox's deepest fantasies, and the younger boy was hooked on every last word. he never thought he would find someone that checked every last of his boxes and left him wanting more, but sydney was proving that to be entirely possible. "that's exactly what you're gonna be, sweetheart. you're gonna take so many cocks and clean so many feet you'll feel like it's your fuckin' purpose in life, and you'll love every second of it. i'm gonna make sure to call you up on a day coach has us running suicides, and you're gonna be worshiping the most rank jock feet you can even imagine," maddox promised. "daddy's gonna get you so addicted to those cocks and those sweaty feet, there will be days that you're begging me to take you to practice with me—hell, you might even sneak into the locker room on your own. maybe even after a game to surprise us with that slutty little cunt after we win." maddox already knew that the team would be just as hooked on sydney's cunt as he was, just as infatuated with the intoxicating senior as he was himself. he also knew that sydney was his, and no one would ever be able to take him away from him. it gave him confidence, and it made him feel invincible. "oh, daddy's gonna make sure that you know my cock better than anyone else's, but i'm sure you'll be too busy guzzling cum and sucking on sweaty nuts to say much at all, huh?" maddox said teasingly. "don't you worry, princess. i'm gonna be using that little pussy as my urinal every night, including tonight... while benji and ace help me wreck your pretty hole."

the idea was so tempting that maddox couldn't wait for the team—he had to do it now, using benji and ace as his little helpers. sydney had no idea what he had in store for him, but he would figure it all out soon enough. "and that's why you're the best little cockslut, isn't it? if there's a hard cock around, that's where your attention is. doesn't matter if it's mine, or benji's, or some fuckin' rando in a bar that likes how you look in your little skirt," maddox said, smirk stuck on his lips. he had never met anyone with a sex drive as in intense as sydney's, and that was one of the many things maddox loved about him. there was no desire to hide his own desires when his lover was unbelievably open about his, and there was no reason to be insecure when sydney was constantly reminding him of his loyalty. maddox could hardly wait to see the older boy sprawled out in the middle of a bunch of hot, sweaty guys who'd love nothing more than to take him home and keep him all to themselves—knowing that the boy was his, and no one else would matter to him the second he snapped his fingers. "and you know that daddy will always be down to see you take a load, princess," maddox grinned. "so we both know that you're gonna be spellman's favorite on-demand cumdump, footslut, and urinal... life's about to be pretty sweet for me, with everyone kissing my ass for a chance with my little slut." maddox smirked at the thought—all those eager guys walking up to him, offering to do his homework or inviting him to the hottest parties on campus for a taste of sydney's cunt. maddox was pretty sure even the professors would be vying for a shot, too. "and i'm the luckiest daddy, but that was obvious," maddox replied. "you really should have, 'cause if i didn't have my dignity i probably would have dropped to the floor and licked those footprints up myself... if anything could have whipped me into submission, it would have been those fuckin' feet."

"that's what i want you to do, sydney. you've got a daddy, but you've also got a fuckin' gooner who's obsessed with your sweaty feet. wear the same socks over and over again, 'til they'd knock even you out from how ripe they are... and then shove them in my face and watch me go into gooner mode," maddox said, hazel eyes full of lust and desire. "i'll keep 'em with me all the time, baby. i'll throw 'em in my bag or my locker, and i'll whip them out whenever i need you. once i get really fuckin' desperate, i'll give you a facetime call and let you see how fucking dumb you get me... just from your feet." maddox didn't know when he'd turned into such a musk-obsessed gooner, eager for a pair of sweaty feet on his face—but he was pretty sure that sydney was the culprit. he was the common factor in all of the changes that occurred over the last few weeks. maddox couldn't even recognize the fresh-faced boy that had shown up to spellman university a month ago, and he didn't want to. "that's right, baby. daddy's your little footslut, and i'll do anything when you've got those sweaty feet in my face," maddox admitted. "just wait 'til i let you down there, angel. you're gonna be begging daddy to sit on that pretty face, and then you're gonna be begging me to ride that pretty cock 'til you're breeding my virgin ass. i'm gonna turn you into a little gooner for daddy's ass, princess." he had never even thought of giving that to anyone, but sydney wasn't just anyone. sydney was everything, and maddox found himself wanting to break every barrier he'd put up into tiny little pieces—and that's just what he would do.

"he's serious, you guys—and he's more than willing to show you how serious he is, aren't you?" maddox said with a smirk. "grab his hair, fuck his throat on your cocks, and top it off with your piss down his throat. sydney loves nothing more than a hot little freshman that can boss him around and treat him like a slut—i mean, look at me." maddox could hear the eagerness in sydney's voice, and for the first time he realized that this wasn't something sydney wanted—it was what he needed. he was sitting in the center of a room full of sweaty, slightly-drunk freshman frat boys, showing off his body and begging to be defiled while all of his friends stood by with their cameras directed at him. he truly felt no shame, and maddox loved it. "you don't think they already know, baby? they've watched me fuck your throat, they've watched you get bathed in mine and benji's piss. they even watched you worship our feet and shoot your load all over my soles. i think they know how to treat a whore like you by now," he countered. "what i want is for you to show them, princess. i want to hear you tell 'em what you want, babe. tell them how hard to fuck your throat, tell them how much you love their ripe feet. and, most importantly, prove to them how sorry you are for turning their lives into a living hell for a month." the boys sat around listening to every word, and it only energized them. the two boys that originally stepped forward were close to their release, and they took their feet away from sydney to shoot their loads on his sweaty face. maddox was too wrapped up in sydney's pretty cunt to even notice.

"you're gonna wish you never told me that, princess... daddy's gonna be teasing you with his 'pretty pussy' all the time now," maddox teased. "i'm always a good boy, thank you very much... but you'll figure that out when you're pounding my tight ass, and i'm begging you for more. i have no doubt that a cock like yours would be exactly what daddy needs to turn me into a whore, right?" the boys on sydney's cock were relentless, and maddox couldn't have been more proud of the senior for resisting temptation. benji and ace filled the space of the last two boys, who sat on nearby recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, kicking their feet up and keeping his little slut busy. "thought i'd give 'em back to you, since you love them so much," benji said smugly. maddox was thrusting his slick cock between sydney's cheeks, huffing impatiently every time his tip met the boy's taught rim. once he was tired of waiting, he pushed in ever so slightly—smirking at the gasp that left his boy's lips, and the way his cunt tightened around him. a load was shot all over his chest, but the two freshman didn't let up. one took the opportunity to wrap his lips around sydney's sensitive cock and take it down his throat, the other eagerly lapping up the mess from his chest. "that's all i needed to hear, babygirl," maddox said with a smirk, snapping his hips forward. he was hardly prepared for the tight, wet heat that enveloped his hard cock, aching from the scene unfolding before him. "fuck, princess... you're so fuckin' tight, angel. you feel that? do you feel the cock that's gonna turn your little pussy into a fuckin' fleshlight?" the younger boy groaned out, beginning a steady rhythm with his thrusts. "you heard him, guys. he's been a good girl, and he wants to be rewarded with your fuckin' piss. stand up, and use him as your urinal." benji, ace and the other freshman were quick to stand up and create a circle around the senior. with their cocks in hand, that familiar stream of golden liquid began to rain down on sydney's face—all while maddox kept at his unforgiving rhythm. "there you go, baby," maddox sighed softly. "guzzle it all up while you get ruined by daddy's cock."

[birdnamedenza]

Home Remedy

@sicktember

Prompts: Home Remedy, Tepid Bath, Flu

There's actually a way darker story I have planned with the same characters, but I wanted to introduce William and Alessio in a more lighthearted way. The home remedy prompt just fit perfectly. They have a really sweet relationship and I'm tempted to write another scenario with lots of love and caretaking. Emeto only starts in the third and last part of the story.

TW: Vomiting, Sickness

For someone who had studied infectious diseases and earned his livelihood researching them, William was remarkably bad at being sick. He despised the weakness that came with it. The complete loss of control over his body. The enhanced perception of sounds and light and smells that made the already overwhelming world almost unbearable. The variety of bodily excretions, each one more unpleasant than the last. As much as pathogens fascinated him in theory, he absolutely despised the effects they had on himself.

He had been at work when disaster stroke. Intense pain had hit him over the head, quickly spreading to his shoulders and chest like the worst kind of sore muscles. A series of chills had been running down his spine, even though the AC kept the temperature in the lab at a steady 20 °C. William had tried to ignore it, but his knees were getting weaker by the minute. After about an hour, his throat had felt sore like he‘d been scrubbing it with sandpaper. At this point, it had become impossible to deny the obvious. William knew the tell-tale symptoms of influenza all too well. Of course he had gotten his annual flu shot, but the virus had decided to surprise everyone with a seasonal genetic drift. One of his colleagues had caught it from her kids and apparently had been generous enough to share it.

Now it was the third day William had spent on his couch and he still felt like absolute garbage. His fever hadn’t dropped below 38° C and spiked every evening. A dry cough kept him awake at night and during the day he was so weak that he could barely walk to the toilet. That was the main reason he stayed on the sofa, it was closer to the bathroom. William also didn’t want to disturb his husband’s sleep with his frequent bouts of hacking up his lungs, even though Alessio constantly assured him that he didn’t mind.

The worst thing, however, was the boredom. Hours melted into an eternity when there was nothing to do. Reading or watching TV weren’t options because they soon made him feel like being placed in a head crusher. With his whole body constantly hurting, there was no comfortable position. Eating was a chore, even his favorite meals had become repulsive. Alessio would sit by his side and read stories to him, but just listening was exhausting enough and, more often than not, triggered his headache.

William wanted to crawl out of his own body.

„I made some soup for you, caro“, Alessio announced with a smile. He looked adorable in his cooking apron, his dark brown curls as messy as usual. William suppressed the desperate urge to kiss him. So far Alessio hadn’t developed any symptoms, there was no need to tempt fate. „Chicken soup, like my nonna used to feed me when I was sick.“

The steaming bowl of tomato broth with tender shreds of chicken thighs, ditalini pasta and lots of chopped up vegetables would have made William’s mouth water under different circumstances. Not so much today. The aroma was too intense and his stomach constantly felt like it was filled to the brim, even though he only choked down minuscule portions.

„You are the best“, William smiled, genuinely grateful. Alessio had spend so much time in the kitchen, knowing perfectly well that William would barely consume anything of what he prepared. Somehow, his husband seemed to enjoy taking care of him. More proof that he would be an incredible dad.

„Try it.“ Alessio sat down on his chair right next to the couch, took a spoonful of soup and gently blew on it to cool it down. Then he fed it to William, careful not to spill anything on the light beige sofa.

„It’s good. It really is. I’m just not very hungry.“ Which was an understatement. The rich umami taste overpowered William‘s senses, but he knew he had to force himself to eat. His body was a feeble, shivering mess that could barely support itself. It needed some fuel and a healthy soup seemed just right for the purpose.

„Don’t worry, it will make you feel better.“ Alessio kept on spoon-feeding William, gently wiping his chin with a napkin as some drops escaped his mouth. His kindness was enough to make William try as hard as he could to empty the bowl. He almost succeeded, but then the aversion became too much and a wave of fatigue washed over him. Panting like he had run a marathon, he sank back into the pillows. Which, of course, sent his body into an instant fit of coughing.

When the torturous tickle in his throat finally subsided, William was covered in sweat. Alessio brushed back some ash blond streaks and placed a hand on his forehead.

„Will, you are burning up.“

„Always getting worse in the ev’ning“, William muttered, eyes closed. „I’ll take some paracetamol for the night.“

„I wish I could help you.“ Alessio sat in silence for a minute. When he spoke up again, his tone had shifted from concern to determination. „Your pills haven’t done much for you so far. What we need are some tried and tested home remedies.“

„…as long as they’re somewhat based in science.“

„Trust me“, Alessio reassured him. „These things have been passed down in my family for centuries.“

It was only after Alessio had already rushed out of the living room when William’s feverish brain realized that the glow in his husband’s eyes had been a little too enthusiastic.

-

„Look what I have prepared for you“, Alessio beamed with vigor. William, who leaned heavily on the taller man’s shoulder, ogled the bathtub with tired eyes.

„I already feel lightheaded. I don’t think I can handle a bath right now.“

„Oh no no no, that’s not a regular bath. That’s a tepid bath!“, his husband declared with a proud smile. „Not too hot, not too cold. It will bring your temperature down.“

„I am 98 % percent sure that it has not been medically proven to have a significant effect“, William tried to talk himself out of the situation. His body was still busy deciding if he was sweating or freezing. The thought of immersing himself in lukewarm water instantly made him shiver.

„It has really helped me as a child. Give it a chance, please.“ Alessio looked at his husband with sad puppy dog eyes. They were impossible to resist in peak physical condition, let alone when William was worn out enough to lie down and sleep on the naked bathroom floor.

„Alright. I guess it won’t hurt, either.“

Alessio helped William to step over the rim and safely lowered him into the water. An immediate shudder ran through his entire body, causing him to cough harshly. He winced as the rough hacks burned his raw throat.

„Easy there, caro, try to relax.“ After William had returned to steady breaths, Alessio grabbed a sponge and started to gently wipe his skin. It was a relieve to get rid of the sticky cold sweat, made him feel more like a human being again. Maybe it would even loosen up his sore muscles. William focused on inhaling deep enough to calm down without triggering another bout of coughing.

For about five minutes, everything went well. Then, all of a sudden, the sensation shifted in a rather drastic manner. William began to quiver, then tremble. Goosebumps formed all over his pale skin. His outside was freezing while his insides were rapidly heating up.

„I don’t feel right“, he moaned, then clenched his jaws to prevent his teeth from chattering.

„That doesn’t look right either.“ Alessio scratched his head. „Let’s get you out of this.“

His strong arms wrapped around William’s body. Alessio had to lift him up because he was shaking so hard that he failed to get back on his feet. After placing his husband on the bath rug, Alessio wrapped him in a big, fluffy towel and gently dried him off.

„I’m so sorry, cuore.“ He looked as guilty as a dog that had been caught eating the birthday cake.

„No, it… it’s fine… probably something about vasoconstruction and metabolic heat production and the central thermoragulation set point…“

„Don’t rack your brain, you’re not at work.“ Alessio helped William to stand up. He was still awfully weak and completely exhausted, but at least he managed to walk back to the living room with his husband’s assistance. Alessio parked William on their most comfortable armchair while he changed the bedding on the sofa. It was probably still clammy from his earlier outbreak of sweating. When everything was as good as new, Alessio lead William to the couch and tucked him in.

„Can you… bring me my meds for the night?“, William rasped.

„No. Something much better.“ Without warning, the unsettling smile was back. „My mom’s miracle cure.“

„Al… please.“ William grabbed his husband’s hand. „You do everything to take care of me and I know that all you want is to make me get better, but… I’d rather stick to regular medicine right now. Tried and tested, remember? So… could you please just give me my paracetamol?“

„Don’t worry“, Alessio assured and placed a kiss on his forehead, „it contains paracetamol.“

Before William could dig any deeper, Alessio was rushing towards the kitchen.

-

When Alessio returned with a mug in his hand and a grin on his face, William instantly had a bad feeling about it. The smell would have been unpleasant in his hungriest moments. With his current food aversion, the cup’s contents seemed like a liquid torture device.

„Listen, love.. I… I really don’t think I can stomach that.“

„It doesn’t taste as bad as it smells“, Alessio tried to appease him. „This is everything your body needs, and it’s not a lot. You managed to get down way more of the soup earlier.“

„I don’t think you can compare this to your soup.“ William instinctively backed off as much the couch and his mountain of pillows allowed.

„It’s medicine, it’s not supposed to taste good“, his husband insisted. „I know the bath didn’t turn out so well, but this is different. Believe me, when I was a child…“

„…it cured you from any disease known to mankind, I know.“ William let out a shallow sigh, trying not to irritate his throat. The thought of downing whatever concoction Alessio had prepared only added to the queasiness in his stomach. But then again, he was tired of being confined to the couch, marinating in his own sweat. Maybe this was the time to be a little more open minded. It was not like he had an awful lot to lose. „Fine. I give in. Hand over the panacea.“

„You’ll see, it will make you feel better in no time.“ Alessio gave him the mug. He had been right, it was only half full. Not an awful lot to swallow, even with an upset digestion. Bracing himself for the worst, William put the cup to his lips and quickly downed the smoothie-like brewage.

For a few merciful moments, William’s tastebuds were so overwhelmed by the amalgamation of pungent flavors that they simply refused to send signals to his brain. Then everything hit him all at once. All taste qualities known to mankind had been blended together and then amped up to eleven. It was intensely bitter, but also overpoweringly sweet with a strong note of garlic, a more than subtle spiciness and a tangy aftertaste. It was the grossest thing William had ever tasted in his entire life.

„Oh my…“ Before he knew it, his stomach was churning, trying to repel what could only be poison. William’s hand flew up to his mouth as he felt the thick mash crawling back up his throat. He frantically swallowed it down, but it didn’t want to go the whole way. Panicking, he muttered against his fingers. „Al, I… I need to be sick.“

„What? Oh. Oh no.“ Alessio was on his feet in a split second. „Hold it in, I’ll get you a bucket!“

He hurried to the trash bin in the corner and dumped the crumpled paper, candy wrappers and empty chips bags on the carpet. William desperately clutched his mouth while his stomach relentlessly pumped up more of its content. Vomit flooded against his palm, leaking through his fingers in small trickles that smelled and tasted even more rancid than the stuff he had forced down.

His resistance was broken. Brownish liquid sprayed out between his fingers in all directions, hitting his blanket, his shirt, the couch and even the floor. The disgusting brew looked pretty much the same as it had entered his body – not a surprise, considering the brevity of its stay. The main difference was the added flavor of gastric juice. William curled in on himself, wailing as the strain of throwing up sent his headache into overdrive. His stomach lurched and expelled a gush of semi-digested soup. While he was still blowing chunks of shredded chicken, carrots and celery, all mixed in with a reddish broth, Alessio pulled him over the bin. The last wave of gut stew splattered safely into the container, sloshing around at its bottom.

„Poor Will, I’m so sorry.“ Alessio sounded like he was on the verge of tears. „I really thought it would help you.“

„I… I know“, William coughed. As if the pain in his throad hadn’t been bad enough before, it was now treated to gastric acid and a forceful torrent of puke. He felt complete drained, his head radiating heat. With a meager retch, he collapsed to the side. Alessio barely managed to catch him while also preventing the bucket from falling over. „Sorry… I ruined the couch.“

„Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clean it up later. Do you think you got it all out?“

„m‘ not sure“, William slurred. „What… did you put in this abomination?“

„Everything that helps against the flu“, Alessio explained. He pulled back the blanket that had caught the most amount of vomit and placed the bucket on William’s lap. Carefully, he propped up his husband‘s body with one arm around the waist and the other hand at his forehead. „Garlic, ginger, onion juice, mustard, honey, lemon and two crushed up paracetamol.“

„You… you’re not supposed to take them all at once!“ William’s gag reflex was instantly triggered again. Too weak to hold himself up, he sank into Alessio’s grip and released his stomach contents into the trash bin. Two more surges of lumpy gruel filled the container before the violent purging finally tapered into bile and eventually coughing. William could barely catch a breath while he was alternately barking and retching. After what seemed like an eternity, he spat out whatever regurgitated food chunks were left in his mouth and gasped for air.

„I don’t even know what to say.“ Alessio wiped William’s face with a handkerchief from the box he had placed on the couch table, just in case a runny nose would join the flu team. „I didn’t want to make you sick. Mom swore that the stuff would kickstart your body’s detox process.“

„Detox isn’t even a thing“, William cried. „Why do you think our bodies have kidneys and a liver and… eugh.“

He gagged as a whiff of odeur de puke hit his nose. Alessio gently rubbed his back.

„I swear I’ll make up for it. No more experiments. Just plain old paracetamol.“

„Give my stomach a minute to settle“, William pleaded. „I’ve thrown up more than enough for one day.“

„I won’t argue with that“, Alessio smiled crookedly. „Something’s telling me you’ll be sleeping with me in bed today.“

Trying not to make an even bigger mess by spilling the sick from the blanket, Alessio helped William get up from the soiled couch. He placed him in a chair while he took off his shirt and cleaned up the splatters he had spewed on himself. When Alessio was done, he carefully guided a shuddering William to their marriage bed.

„Take one of my shirts.“ Alessio assisted his husband with the dressing process. „It will make you sleep better.“

„That’s a home remedy I have confidence in“, William agreed, then hesitated. „But… what if I have to vomit again?“

„Nevermind. Your recovery is more important than a clean shirt.“ Alessio took the chance to ruffle William’s hair before the blonde sank into the pillows. Any strength had been drained from his body, along with his last meal. He struggled to keep his eyes open.

„Luvya“, William mumbled.

„I love you too.“

A soft kiss on his forehead was the last thing William felt before he drifted into the comforting embrace of sleep.

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter six: "I don't know everything, despite the fact you think that I do"

My gif

Word count: 12,6K

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of drug use, drug detox, physical violence. Spencer being a jerk.

Summary: (Y/N) had enough of Spencer's attitude and plans an intervention on her own.

A/N: Hello! how are you? how's your week going? my life is a mess and I'm fighting with a lot of anxiety and stress after the month I spent with my grandparents, so I've been taking everything with calm in the latest days. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Spencer is... and then reader... ok, read it, and see you in the comments! Stay safe, kids!!!

Series Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

───※ ·❆· ※───

(Y/N)'s point of view

After New Orleans, I thought things were starting to get a little better. For a few days, Spencer was a lot like himself again. It was refreshing and exciting. He smiled. He even looked like he had slept. And he wasn't rude. Not at first. Not until that Friday.

- "Hey, pretty girl"- Morgan appeared next to my desk and tapped on the pile of files I was working on- Got any plans for tonight?

- "I was actually going to meet my boyfriend. Why? What do you have in mind?"

Yes. Paul and I had a date, 'cos I hadn't seen him in two weeks. We had spent San Valentine's apart, 'cos we were out on a case. And I barely noticed it. I didn't have my hopes high for that night, though. Maybe pizza, a movie... I didn't feel like having sex, even when it had been over a month since we had done it.

- "I'm clubbing tonight, and I know you are a party girl. So, do you wanna come with me?"

- "As tempting as it sounds, I pass"- I smiled at my friend and shook my head- "All I can do today is have a quiet evening, eat something, watch a movie and then call it a day."

- "Are you sure? 'cos Emily is on board, and you two are my party sidekicks."- I chuckled and kept shaking my head- "Ok, alright. You lose. What about you, pretty boy?"

Spencer had been awfully quiet that whole afternoon. He was buried in his paperwork and only moved from his seat to get coffee.

- "Reid? are you listening?"- Morgan waved until he got his attention. But Spencer apparently didn't want to talk- "Hello? Earth to Reid."

- "What the hell do you want?"- I brought up my eyes to my best friend, 'cos his voice was as annoyed as rude.

- "Hey, hey, slow down, kid. What's your problem?"

- "I'm trying to work, and you don't let me! That's my problem!"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and took a deep break.

- "Ok, my bad."

Spencer glued his eyes on his files again, and I kept looking at him closely for a minute. He was fidgety on his chair. He kept scratching his arms, and he had flipped from human to whatever he was when he yelled at Morgan in a blink.

Of course, shit wasn't over yet.

- "Hey, do you want a ride home?"- I asked him and stood by his desk on my way out. He was getting ready to leave too.

- "I can take the subway on my own"- he talked to me like I was insulting him- "And I don't wanna get in the way of your fake date,"- he grumbled and put on his coat

- "Sorry, what?"- I wasn't sure I had gotten that right.

- "Yeah, you have a date with your boyfriend, and I don't want to get in the way."

- "What are you talking about, Reid?"- I couldn't believe his words. He was acting like a jerk.

- "You know, I don't get it"- he was mad. Furious. And he snapped in front of me, out of the blue- "Why are you still dating that jerk if you don't even love him? does he fuck you that good?"

I could see from the corner of my eye how every head in the bullpen turned to us. I looked at my best friend in the eyes and didn't say a word. I just nodded and grabbed my purse.

- "Enjoy your weekend, Reid."

I knew I didn't have to take those words personally. Spencer wasn't himself. But I was growing tired of justifying him in front of the team and myself. It was time for the big guns.

I tried to ease my mind that night, preparing myself for what I knew I had to do the next day. But I couldn't shake Reid from my thoughts. I needed to know what he was doing if he had dinner. If he was able to sleep. Shit! I needed to know if he was getting high all alone in his apartment.

What if he overdosed? What if he just decided to go a little further and his body couldn't resist it? He was too skinny. He wasn't eating correctly. Shit! He could die.

- "Hey, babe. Are you ok?"- Paul asked me all of a sudden. He was kissing my neck and trying to get under my shirt, and I wasn't even moving. I was thinking about Reid and how to help him. And meanwhile, my boyfriend was trying to have sex with me.

- "Sorry, what?"- I know, that wasn't a good answer.

- "Are you even here?"- he sighed and let me go- "Let me guess, you are thinking about a case."

- "No, I'm just worried about Reid."

I know. That wasn't a good answer either, considering Paul's angry face as soon as he heard his name. Paul hated Reid. Ok, Paul hated every single one of my friends, but he despised Spencer. He would almost see him as his sworn enemy, and they had seen each other in person twice in over a year.

- "Now you think about that nerd when we are making out?!"

- "What?! No! that's not what I meant!"- I tried to explain, but it was clear that wasn't going to work- "He is going through a tough time after the abduction and..."

- "Yeah, yeah"- he cut me off and stood up- "Everything about Spencer is more important than me! I don't wanna hear that shitty and sad kidnap story again!"

- "I'm just trying to say I am worried about him!"- I stood up and followed him around the apartment.

- "You are always worried about him!"

- "He is my friend. He is in pain!"

- "And what about me?! Do you even care about me?!"

- "Sure! of course, I do!"

I knew that was it all of a sudden. I didn't even want to argue with Paul, and neither explain to him how much I needed to help Reid. So I didn't say a word. I only stood in front of him. He brought up his eyes to me and sighed. It took him a few seconds to gather the courage to say what he wanted to say. But when he did, it wasn't good.

- "You are in love with him, aren't you?"

His question made my blood boil. I hated he made such a presumption only because I was worried about Spencer. I loved him, sure, but because he was my best friend. I was with him all day, every day. I saw him more than my own family. More than Lu, Mikey, or Frank. And I knew Reid was in pain and in real danger. Of course, Spencer was my priority.

- "No, Paul. I am not in love with him."- I looked right into his eyes and tried to make my point clear- "He is going through a shitty situation, and I wanna help him. That's all."

- "And do you love me?"

He had never asked me that before. We haven't talked about "love" in the whole year and a half we had been together. And, to be honest, I didn't want to lie. I didn't want to hurt him either, but it was the end of the line, and we both knew it.

- "Paul..."

- "That's a no,"- he said and folded his arms across his chest- "If you don't love me, why are you with me?"

- "Do you love me?"

- "Of course, I do!"- I raised an eyebrow and stared at him for a second - "Don't profile me!"

- "I'm not profiling you. I'm just sure you don't! And that's ok. Paul, we... This is not a relationship. It's two lonely persons holding onto something that didn't work."

We just stared at each other and didn't say a word for what seemed to be for ages.

- "Despite what you might think, I know you, (Y/N)"- he took a step closer to me and kissed my forehead- "And I know you love him."

- "Paul, I really don't. He is my friend, and I'm worried about him"- he simply nodded and sighed.

- "Sure thing. Take care"- started walking to the door and never looked back.

I stood alone in the middle of my apartment. That was it. The easiest breakup because neither of us was in love. And yet, I felt empty and sad. Tears started falling down my cheeks, and I didn't notice them until I was sobbing.

I wasn't sad I had lost Paul. I didn't understand where that emptiness and misery were coming from. Maybe it was grief for a relationship that was never meant to work. Perhaps I was sad because I had failed to maintain a relationship. After all, work had turned into my life. I was just like my father and my brother.

A part of me felt I was slowly turning into what I had fought not to be. And letting Paul might mean I was no longer the old (Y/N). And the new (Y/N) scared me: I was a Fed, I worked over 50 hours a week, and I had killed people. Bad people, but I had pulled the trigger. I knew I had the job of my dreams, and I knew I loved working at the BAU. But with every day that passed, I was walking further and further away from the version of me I loved.

And I was scared of what the new (Y/N) was going to be like. Was she going to be like her dad and lose her family due to her work? or like her brother? who couldn't have a normal life 'cos being a detective was more significant.

I knew we all made our own personal decisions, but a part of me felt it. We were all cut from the same cloth, and I was meant to grow old, alone, and the BAU was going to be my whole life until the day I retired, and the loneliness consumed me.

- "I need a drink."

Spencer's point of view

I took a cab home. I didn't want to take the subway because it would take longer to get there, and I couldn't wait that long. I needed one more fix.

I had been telling myself the same for a whole week now: Just one more. One last time.

But it never was the last time. Every night I failed, and that Friday, I was so eager to forget, I wasn't thinking straight. I snapped at Morgan and (Y/N), just 'cos I was going insane, craving Dilaudid.

After New Orleans, I decided to stop using it. And for two days, I did it. But, of course, I couldn't handle the need. That needle was going to be my end, and I was struggling every day to quit. It was impossible to stop on my own when I needed to quieten the pain somehow.

You don't know how much pain you are into until you numb yourself, and the weight of all your troubles and regrets is lifted from your chest. I knew it was eating me alive, but I had to be strong and quit. So, every day I tried. And every day, I failed. Just like that night, when I laid in bed and slowly unwrapped my belt from my arm, losing all connection with reality.

I had yelled at my friends, and they were probably angry at me. But shit! It was worth it. Nothing was even relevant as long as I could feel the relief Dilaudid gave me.

But it never lasted. And the following day, I regretted it all. I woke up dressed on my bed, a needle next to me and an empty bottle of Dilaudid by its side. Just like a junkie. Tears filled my arms as soon as I realized what had happened. What I had done: I had failed yet again.

My whole body was shaking. I needed to eat something. My last proper meal had been Thursday when (Y/N) and I stopped for dinner on our way back home. And I guess if it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't have eaten at all.

I took a long shower, trying to wash away the guilt. It's obvious to say it didn't work. But I consoled myself thinking last night had been the last time. That day I was going to be strong enough, and I was going to quit. I had decided. Nothing could stop me that time.

My breakfast was miserable: I made coffee and took a look in my fridge. Nothing. All I ate that morning was a bowl of cereal (without milk) and two cups of coffee and sugar. Sugar and coffee, actually, like everybody teased me.

I tried to read for a while, at a normal peace, because my head was still fuzzy. So I sat in my living room and grabbed a book from my coffee table: "The Illustrated Man."

After a few hours and four books later, my mind kept coming to the same place. I was out of Dilaudid. And it was a good thing, 'cos now I just wasn't going to get any more. That was it. I had officially quit. Yes. And I felt good. It was a new day, and I was ready to be clean and sober. So I made myself another cup of coffee to celebrate and took a look at my bookshelf. I picked another three books and sat on my armchair, ready to keep on reading. I didn't need drugs to be happy.

Around three in the afternoon, I couldn't stop moving on the couch as I read the sixth book of the day. I drank yet another cup of coffee, even when I knew what I really needed was to get some real food. But I didn't care to starve at that moment. There was only one thought in my mind: Getting high.

Maybe I wasn't ready to quit. I should try leaving it periodically. Actually, perhaps having a bottle around the house could help me ease my mind. Knowing it was there made me feel better. As good as using it.

I was going insane. I kept debating whether I should stay home or find my dealer and just get a little dose. Just enough for one more time. Maybe two. I kept walking around my apartment, creating excuses in my head to get high.

And that was when I heard a knock on my door. I stopped on my tracks, confused. I wasn't waiting for anyone, and I wouldn't really have many unannounced visits. So I walked silently towards the door and looked through the peephole.

- "Shit"- my voice was a whisper I prayed (Y/N) hadn't heard.

What was she doing there? Maybe she had come to talk about my attitude at the BAU. I had said some awful things, but that wasn't really a good moment. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want her to see me like this. I didn't want anyone to see me. So I didn't open the door.

But she knocked again. I didn't move and almost didn't breathe as I stood still by the door, waiting for her to leave. But she wasn't leaving. Instead, she kept knocking over and over again, driving me insane until I snapped.

- "What the fuck do you want?!"- I opened the door and yelled at her face. She widened her eyes, surprised, and didn't move.

- "You just came to stand there and look at me?- I shouted, and she flinched. She had to leave. I wanted her out of my house. But rather than leaving, she walked in and stood in the middle of the apartment.

- "What is wrong with you?"- she was making an effort to stay calm, but I could tell she was scared. She kept biting the inner part of her cheeks and crossed her arms on her chest. Was she scared of me?

- "Spencer, why are you acting like this?"

- "What the fuck is your problem, (Y/N)? Why are you in my house uninvited?!"

- "I called you like three times. I wanted to invite you to my house for dinner, but you didn't answer, so I got worried."

- "As you can see, I'm fine! And no, I don't wanna go to your house for dinner!"

Her eyes were wide opened, staring right into mine, and I swear it physically hurt to see her. She shouldn't be there. I needed her out. I didn't want her to see me like that, and I needed to get out and get some more Dilaudid. Now more than ever.

- "I'm making lasagna"- (Y/N) whispered- "Mikey, Frank, and Lu are coming."

- "I don't care, I don't wanna go to your house, I don't wanna go anywhere! I'm fine here."

- "But, honey bunny..."

- "Stop calling me that!! I hate it!! It's a stupid nickname! I'm not your fucking honey bunny!!"

The silence in my apartment was so deep, I could hear my own heart racing inside my chest. (Y/N)'s eyes filled with tears that soon started falling down her cheeks. She dropped her shoulders, and her arms hung at her sides, slacks.

- "Please"- she begged- "Tell me what's wrong. I want to help you, Spencer."

- "There's nothing wrong! don't you get sometimes I don't want to be stuck at you?! I already have to see your face all day at work. I deserve a break during the few weekends we have off!"

- "I know you don't mean that"- her voice broke, and her chin trembled, but she still made her best not to cry.

- "You don't know that. You don't know shit, (Y/N)."

I stayed quiet and looked away from her. I couldn't stare at those sad eyes for another second.

- "Please, leave"- I managed to control my voice for a second, in a poor attempt not to hurt her anymore. But she shook her head and sniffed.

- "No, Spencer, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with you. I am worried."

- "There's nothing fucking wrong with me, (Y/N)! Don't you get it?! I just don't wanna be with you!"

- "Please"- she begged, sobbing in front of me. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bear to see her anymore.

So I ruined everything and hurt her. I pushed her. She nearly fell back but managed to stabilize. She was shocked by my actions, but I didn't even have time to think about what I was doing. All I could think of that minute was that I needed her out of my house to buy drugs and get high.

- "Spencer, what the hell are you doing?"

- "I asked you nicely, but you didn't leave. So now I won't be nice anymore. Get out!!"

I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of my sight. She cried, pleading I would tell her what was wrong with me. But I didn't listen. Instead, I dragged her out of my apartment and slammed the door. I could hear her crying in the hall for a moment, and it enraged me. I thought if she was crying, she herself had caused it. She had appeared at my house at the wrong moment, unannounced.

It wasn't my fault. I just wanted her to leave. I did what I had to do.

And I didn't regret it.

Not until Sunday afternoon, when an announced knock on my door forced me to drag my stoned body from the couch. It was a delivery boy who gave me a package and left. It had nothing written on it. Not even my name. When I opened the box, I found a computer and a note.

- "Play me."

I knew I was still stoned, but not enough to be imagining those kinds of things. I took the laptop to the couch with me. There was a video ready to be played in it. So I pushed play.

- "What the fuck do you want?!"- my heart dropped. It was me, but I could barely recognize my own face- "You just came to stand there and look at me?"

It was a recording of me yelling at (Y/N). She had taped everything, and I couldn't believe my own eyes. I was a monster.

- "I'm making lasagna"- my chin quivered at that scene. Her voice was a whisper, and I was out of myself- "Mikey, Frank, and Lu are coming."

- "I don't care, I don't wanna go to your house, I don't wanna go anywhere! I'm fine here."

- "But honey bunny..."

- "Stop calling me that!! I hate it!! It's a stupid nickname! I'm not your fucking honey bunny!!"

I paused the video, 'cos I couldn't take it anymore. That wasn't me. I couldn't believe I had said all those things to her. It hurt (Y/N), so I could get drugs.

I covered my face with my hands and cried. I was done. Not only did I not know how to recover from my drug addiction, but I also didn't know how I could ever look at my best friend again in the eyes after what I had done.

I remembered she had cried, and I knew I had been mean. But when I saw the extreme hate in each one of my words, I knew I had reached rock bottom. I needed help.

After a few minutes, I pushed play again. I knew I needed to see the whole thing actually to understand what had happened.

- "Please, leave!!"

- "No! Spencer, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with you. I am worried."

- "There's nothing fucking wrong with me, (Y/N)! Don't you get it! I just don't wanna be with you!!"

- "Please... Spencer, no! What the hell are you doing?"

- "I asked you nicely, but you didn't leave. So now I won't be nice anymore. Get out!!"

I hit her. I pushed her. She was there to invite me for dinner, and I hurt her. Who was I? What kind of beast does such a thing to his best friend?

Who would do such a thing to the woman he loves.

I curled on the couch, crying. How could I let that happen? When did I turn into a downward version of myself? Ethan was right. I had been dumb enough to think I could control it when in reality, drugs were controlling me. I was losing who I was. I could lose my job. I was losing my friends.

I knew things had been hard for me growing up, but I had finally reached a point in my life where I was happy. I liked my life. I loved my job. For once, I had real friends, and I was making good, catching bad guys. I had actually fulfilled my dream to work at the BAU. So why was I wasting it all?

- "Spencer"- I heard (Y/N)'s voice at the end of the video and saw her face on the screen- "I am here if you need to talk. I'm not mad. I just wanna hug you. Please, call me. Let me help you."

But I couldn't do it. I couldn't talk to her after what had happened. I dragged her by the arm out of my apartment. I made her cry. I didn't deserve anything. I couldn't deal with reality and the consequences of the monster I had become into.

Sunday, March 4th. That was the day it all changed for good.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer didn't call. I wasn't surprised, though. I knew he would be affected by the video and probably felt like he didn't deserve my help. So I did what I knew Frank would say I shouldn't do. I put on my shoes and got ready to go to his apartment and pick him up. I was not going to leave him alone when I could see he was struggling to survive.

But when I opened my door, Spencer was sitting in the hall outside my apartment, hugging his legs, shaking. His eyes were puffy, and his lips were shattered. He looked at me, afraid I would be mad. But how could I? I just wanted to help him.

I kneeled in front of him and touched his hands. They were stone cold. His lips trembled as I looked into his eyes, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he finally threw his arms around me, crying.

- "It's ok, honey"- I whispered and felt his whole body shaking as he held me tight- "I've got you."

- "I'm sorry"- I mumbled, sobbing against my shoulder.

- "Shh, it's ok, it's ok"- I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek.

- "Please"- I had to bite my lips not to cry with him, but I knew I had to be strong for him- "Help me."

- "Always."

I poured two cups of tea on my kitchen island as I looked at Spencer eating a bowl of soup. He was swallowing it like he hadn't eaten in days, which was probably true. We had barely spoken in the last hour. He kept asking for forgiveness as I helped him walk into my apartment and sat with him on the couch. He held onto me like a castaway holds to whatever shipwrecks he finds to survive.

When I finally convinced him to eat something, he followed me to the kitchen and looked at me in silence as I cooked. I didn't know what to tell him, so I just did my best to stay calm. I knew what was happening next, and it wasn't going to be pretty. But I was ready to go through it with him.

- "Thank you"- he whispered and sighed as soon as he was finished.

- "Do you want some more?"- but he shook his head. I smiled at him and handed him his cup of herbal tea.

- "Cookies?"- he didn't answer. He just looked at me with those big puppy eyes and broke my heart.

- "I'm sorry"- he spoke so softly I almost didn't hear him.

- "Don't be."

- "I was a monster"- he stared at me, and I knew he was thinking I was never going to forgive him, when the truth was, I wasn't mad at him at all. I was just worried sick.

- "Are you ready to get better?"- I was afraid to ask, 'cos I was afraid he could change his mind. Still, I trusted the video had shaken him deeply enough to erase from his head any thought of relapsing.

- "Yes."

His answer was clear. Even when it was a whisper, there was no hesitation or no fear. Pure determination. It made me smile to hear him like that. And he smiled at me for a second, filling my heart with hope.

- "Ok, then this is what we are doing"- I walked to my desk and took a folder I had prepared for that day. I gave it to him, and he frowned, confused.

- "What is this?"

- "Our home detox plan. You and I are locked in this apartment for the next fifteen days."

Spencer looked at me, baffled. I just smiled and walked to the fridge to show him how prepared I was.

- "I got all the food we need, and the meds you might need, and a nurse that will come to visit daily to put an eye on you."

- "What? How? What about work?"

- "I'll talk to Hotch."

- "What are you gonna tell him?"

- "The truth"

I wasn't going to lie to my boss, not when he also knew what was happening with Reid.

- "Honey, he knows there's something wrong with you, and I'm sure he will understand our absence for two weeks. You and I have enough vacation days saved to cover that time. And you need it."

Spencer looked at me in silence. I couldn't read his face because his eyes hypnotized me. Even under those circumstances, his eyes were beautiful and sweet. Filled with hope.

- "Ok"- he nodded, and I hugged him right away.

- "I'm so proud of you, honey"- I whispered and caressed his hair for a second.- "Come on. We are doing one more thing before we start."

- "What?"

- "Cleaning your apartment."

I took Reid back to his place and got rid of the Dilaudid he had gotten that weekend: All of it. And the needles. I helped him clean because I didn't want him to find a messy apartment when he would get back there. Then, we packed a bag of clean clothes to take to my place. He looked weak but determined to change, which made me feel so relieved. My heart was joyful.

- "Do you have everything?"- I whispered and held his hand as he stood in the middle of the living room and took a look around- "Do you want to take some books?"- he didn't answer- "Spencer? are you ok?"

- "I don't want to be a burden"- he whispered, and I took a deep breath right away, trying to find the right words to convince him he wasn't and that there was no way on earth he could ever be a burden in my life.

- "You are not, I swear"- he looked down and played with his fingers in my hand- "I mean it."

- "It's not going to be nice"

- "I know"

- "And..."

- "And I want to be there, with you, all along. Ok?"- he looked at me, and my heart skipped a beat.

- "(Y/N), withdrawal symptoms from opiates include anxiety, sweating, vomiting, and"- he cleared his throat, embarrassed- "And diarrhea."

- "I know... but we are going to go through this together, one day at the time."

Spencer kept his fingers in my hand, tracing paths on my skin. I looked at him and bit the inside of my cheeks. I didn't want him to doubt himself, 'cos I knew he could do it.

- "One day at the time sounds good"- he murmured and looked at me with a tiny smile. I nodded and kissed his cheek. I don't know why I did it. I just know how much I liked it. The sensation of his skin, and his two days beard, I don't know what it did to me. But I even shivered.

- "Let's go"- I whispered and held his hand tight. He nodded and grabbed his bag. It was about to get real.

The first night with Spencer was wild. He hadn't used it in over a day, and the withdrawal symptoms started around midnight. We were on the couch watching a movie. I was already half asleep when I felt Spencer constantly moving. He started biting his nails and scratching his face every two minutes.

- "Are you ok?"- I whispered and looked at him. He was pale.

- "I'm not gonna be able to do this."

- "Honey..."

- "No, I mean it."

- "You can, and you will."

- "How do you know? I was weak enough to start using."

- "You were forced to start using, and you are strong enough to stop"- I sat straight and held his hands. He was freezing- "What do you say we put you to bed? I'll make you a cup of tea, and we'll see how you feel in the morning."

He didn't move. I kept his hand in mine, and he held it tight. Real tight. I don't know what he was thinking about, but after a few seconds, he sighed and looked at me.

- "Bed and tea sounds nice,"- I nodded and stood up, but he didn't move- "(Y/N)?"

- "Yes?"

- "Where are you going to sleep?"

- "On the couch"- he sighed, and his face was filled with guilt.

- "I can't let you do that. This is your house."

- "Don't worry about that now. Come on. You need to rest"- I caressed his hand with my thumb, and he finally stood up. But halfway to the bedroom, he stopped.

- "I feel so guilty to put you through all this."

- "I want to do this"

- "But..."

- "No, but"- I turned to him and cupped his face with my hands- "I love you, and I'm not gonna leave you alone. No matter what."

My words resonated inside my head for a few seconds as I stared at him. My stomach was fluttering, and my heart was racing inside my chest.

That wasn't good. But I didn't have to overthink my feelings because my best friend needed me.

Reid walked to the bathroom and put on his pajamas while I made him a cup of warm tea. I knew what was coming: nausea, shivering, throwing up, stomach ache, and more. But I was ready. Two weeks and Spencer was going to be ok.

I had talked about my plan with Hotch earlier that day, and he agreed to give us two weeks off and cover us. Spencer was going to be in Vegas, 'cos his mother had had an episode, and I would be in New York, helping my brother on a case. Seemed convincing. Having the two of us out of town would stop any of our friends to stop by unannounced.

- "(Y/N), thank you for doing this for Reid"- Hotch said before hanging up. I felt lucky to have him as my unit chief. He surely cared for all of us. I don't think anyone else would have done the same.

Retchings from my bathroom were the first thing I heard as soon as I stepped into my room.

- "Honey, do you need help?"- but Reid didn't answer. So I ran back to the kitchen and got him a Gatorade from the fridge, set it on the nightstand. Then I ran to my closet and grabbed a clean towel.

I opened the bathroom door and found Reid kneeled by the toilet. He had already flushed but didn't stand up.

- "Here"- I dampened the towel and put it on his forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed- "Better?"

Spencer just nodded and stayed still for a moment. I took off his glasses and pulled his hair back carefully. He started retching a second later, and I rubbed his stomach, cooing him. When he was done, I flushed and helped him stand up. That wasn't it, and I knew it. He knew it too.

- "Did you know brushing your teeth right after throwing up damages your teeth?"- he whispered, making me smile. It felt good to know deep down, even under those shitty circumstances, he was still the same good old Reid.

- "So, mouthwash?"- I moved the bottle closer for him, and he just nodded- "I'll be outside."

Reid drank a little Gatorade and made a sad effort to read after getting into bed but fell asleep in less than five minutes. I took the glasses off (again) and took the book from his hands. My heart felt warm just to see him there, resting.

But that lasted less than half an hour. I stayed by Spencer's side to make sure he was ok. I was reading when he started retching again. I grabbed the bucket I had already set underneath the bed and rushed to help him. His stomach was already empty. He was basically just vomiting bile.

When he finally fell asleep again, he started shaking. I touched his hand, and he was freezing, so I took an extra blanket from the closet, placed it on top of him, and set the room's thermostats to make it a little warmer for him.

I stayed by his side, reading until he woke up again. This time, he was sweating. I took a clean pajama top from his bag and helped him change. Then, I took the dirty pajamas and the clothes he had worn that day and put them in the washer.

I sat next to Reid on the bed and looked at him. He was awake, rolling over and over, not able to stay still.

- "Come here"- I whispered and tapped on my lap- "Put your head here."

I thought he was going to argue, but no. Instead, he did as told with no hesitation as I ran my fingers through his hair slowly, scratching his scalp carefully. I felt how he inhaled deeply and relaxed, at least for a little while.

But it didn't last. And the rest of the night was a long loop of puke, shivers, and sweat. Spencer finally fell asleep for good around six in the morning, and I dragged my exhausted self to the couch. Night one was done. Nine more to go.

Spencer's point of view

My whole body ached. I opened my eyes, disoriented. All I knew was that I felt I had been beaten up, but I didn't recognize the room. I did recognize the smell on my pillow, though. It was (Y/N)'s. That's how I remembered what was going on.

Adding to how bad I felt, physically, I felt worst knowing everything that had happened the night before and in advance for everything I knew would happen that week. But even knowing that, and even when I was embarrassed to be a burden, I was glad to be there. I was happy to feel taken cared of and loved. It was a change I never imagined I could experience. The one who always took care of his mother now had someone who took care of him. It was under a miserable context, but I felt loved anyway.

Even when I was loved only as a friend.

I stood up slowly. I was fatigued, probably 'cos I had spent half of the night puking. I drank what was left of the Gatorade on the nightstand and walked to the living room. (Y/N) was asleep on the couch. My heart ached to think how uncomfortable she probably was while I slept on her queen-sized bed. No one had ever cared so much about me before. So I walked to the kitchen and made her breakfast. A classical Reid breakfast. Coffee, cereal, and milk. That was it. That was all I could cook.

- "Hey, what are you doing?"- (Y/N) appeared suddenly and smiled at me so sweetly, I nearly dropped the coffee pot.

- "I'm trying to make you breakfast"- I confessed and blushed- "And as you can see, I'm not much of a cooker."

- "You made coffee, you covered the most important part"- she held the cup I had filled for her and smiled- "What if you get comfy on the couch while I make you something to eat?"

- "I can't let you do everything, (Y/N)"- the way she looked at me, my heart skipped a beat.

- "I'll tell you what: If I ever get sick or hurt, or anything happens to me, you are going to be the one taking care of me. Ok?"- I nodded and stayed quiet- "Now, go to the couch. It's a lazy Monday."

- "What does that mean?"

- "We stay in our pajamas, watch movies, nap, and do nothing."

How could anyone say no to that?

I wasn't hungry at all, but (Y/N) really applied herself with everything she cooked: she made chocolate chips, hotcakes, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a smoothie, and also forced me to eat a bowl of fruit. She said I needed all the vitamins I could get, 'cos I had to get strong.

She sat next to me, ate the bowl of cereal I had prepared for her, and drank the coffee I had made. It was relaxing just staying there, covered with a blanket, watching Dr. Who. I felt my body losing up little by little. Until detox hit again. The light was bothering me, burning my eyes, and my body felt weak. Nauseous started kicking in, and before I knew it, I was throwing up on (Y/N)'s carpet.

She held a bucket in front of me and pressed a damped towel on the back of my neck.

- "Better?"- (Y/N) whispered and smiled at me. Her fingers tucked some of my hair behind my ears gently- "Do you want to lay down for a while? You are shaking."

I just nodded.

- "Ok, come on, let's go"- she held my arm and helped me stand up. She was right. I was shaking, but not just because I was cold. It was the withdrawal.

I was so embarrassed and mortified. With each symptom, I was a little more certain (Y/N) would never look at me the way I did. She would never fall for me after what she was witnessing. No one in their right mind would.

- "There you are"- she whispered, fixing the pillow behind my head as I laid on her bed again.

- "Can you please close the curtains?"- I whispered, covering my face with both hands. The light was too painful to deal with.

- "Sure, honey. Headache?"- all I could do was nod- "I'll get you ibuprofen, that will help with your body aches and the migraine."

I stayed still, eyes closed, hands covering my face, thinking how I had gotten to the point of having to detox my body from drugs. It was, without a doubt, the lowest moment of my whole life.

- "Ok, honey, try to get some rest, ok?"- (Y/N) whispered after I took the ibuprofen and drank half the bottle of water she had brought.

-  "Can you..."- I studied because I was afraid to tell her I didn't want her to leave me alone. I was afraid to be on my own. I didn't trust myself or my mind.

- "What is it? Do you want another blanket?"

- "Can you stay with me?"- I finally asked and held her hand. She just nodded, smiling, and sat next to me on her bed, making sure I was comfy and cozy, fixing the pillow again and the blanket. I looked at her as she laid by my side on top of the covers and held her book.

- "I'm here, Spencer. And I'll be where when you wake up, ok?"

- "Can you read to me?"- I closed my eyes 'cos the light was killing me.

- "And your headache?"

- "Your voice is soothing, and it would help to concentrate on something else but the pain."

- "Ok... then prepare yourself for some horror, 'cos I'm reading, yet again, "Something wicked this way comes."

- "It's one of my favorites"- I whispered and sighed.

- "Why am I not surprised?"

I tried to fight the waves of nausea, the pain in every muscle and headache, and only focused on the sound of her voice as she read. It took me back to when I was a kid, and my mom would read me every night. (Y/N) kept caressing my hair and reading to me. It was the closest I had ever been to heaven, even when physically, I felt like dying.

When I woke up, (Y/N) was asleep by my side. I tried to move, but my body was limp. It was too painful for me to get up on my own, and all I could think of was one simple thing: Dilaudid. I was craving it. I would never feel so bad if I had a fix. Just a little one. To make the pain go away.

I was making excuses to justify my need for drugs. I wanted to feel better, 'cos right there, on (Y/N)'s bed, I felt dead already, and my whole body was rotting. I just wanted to get a little high. It wasn't going to hurt anyone. Right?

Wrong. The bruise on (Y/N)'s arm was the reality check I needed. I hurt her. I hit her. I pushed her away from me. That's how low I had gotten. I would not let that happen again, and more important than anything else: I was never going to hurt (Y/N), ever again. And that I swore to myself that day on her bed.

There was no use in denying the fact I was in love with my best friend. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me. And I knew I was going to love her forever, even when she would only be my friend. I didn't even know when I had fallen so hard in love with her. I tried to remember the moment my feelings had changed from friendship to love, but I couldn't find it. I just knew I loved her, and nothing was ever gonna change that.

The kind of love that makes you think you'd die for that person. I would die for her, just to make sure she is safe.

I felt so pathetic thinking those things. Not because I didn't want to feel that way, but because I knew (Y/N) would never look at me like that. But still, I'd give her everything she could ever ask me for.

I just laid by her side and looked at her as she slept. My eyes were finally able to slide on every detail of her face. Her freckles, her nose, the color of her lips that even without makeup looked like a cherry. And the bruise on her arm. I was never going to forget about it and neither forgive myself.

- "Hey"- she whispered, fluttering her eyes- "How are you feeling?"

- "Good"- I lied. I didn't want to tell her I felt like dying. She stayed still, looking at me for a few seconds.

- "Are you hungry?"- I shook my head, even that hurt- "How's the headache?"- my eyes were killing me.

- "Better"- she nodded and sighed.

- "I know you are full of shit, Spencer Walter Reid. You don't need to lie"- I just closed my eyes and refused to open them again for a few minutes.

- "I just don't want you to worry, (Y/N). That's all."

- "Do you want to sleep some more? I'm gonna go..."- but as soon as she moved, I stopped her.

- "No"- I looked at her and held her hand immediately. Every muscle in my body hurt with that movement, but I didn't regret it- "Please, don't leave."

- "Ok, I won't go. I promise"- she held my hand and caressed it slowly and smiled so sweetly, I think I even smiled back.

We laid in silence for a while. I closed my eyes again, trying to breathe normally. (Y/N) was lying next to me. That would get my heart racing in a second.

- "The nurse is coming around five. She will put an eye on you every day if you need any medical attention, ok?"- I hummed as a response and kept focused on her fingers playing with my hand- "Maybe we can ask her to help you take a bath."

I wide opened my eyes at those words and noticed how my best friend was blushing.

- "What?"- she chuckled at my reaction- "I can take a bath on my own!"

- "Really? You should consider it then"- she stuck out her tongue to me and giggled- "Though your two days beard is cute"- she ran her fingers along my jaw and sent shivers all over my body. The proximity felt so new, yet incredibly natural, almost familiar.

- "Thanks?"- I answered with a question 'cos I had no idea what else to do. I just stayed still and looked into her eyes. She didn't say another word either. Her eyes were following her fingers, playing with my jawbone slowly.

I wanted to move a little closer to her and hug her, maybe. But I couldn't. Not only because I physically couldn't move without crying, but because her phone rang and made her jump on the bed.

- "Hey! Paco, how are you?"- I heard her pick up the phone in the living room and walk back to me, holding another bottle of Gatorade.

- "No, I'm on a case. In New York. I don't know how long, I wish I could predict how long it's gonna take to catch a fucking serial killer, but I can't."

I looked at her as she walked around the room, talking with Frank. Of course, it was him. She always called him Paco. I slowly sat down on the bed and sighed. I was paranoid about the shower. Maybe I stank. I hadn't bathed since... Saturday. Obviously, I smelled terrible. I had been sweating all night long.

I made my best effort and walked to the bathroom. Everything hurt. When I finally managed to take off my pajamas and ran the shower, I was weary. But the warm water made me feel a lot better.

I took a long shower. Not just because I wanted to stay forever under the warm water, but because I couldn't really move that fast. I washed my hair and considered shaving. But I didn't have a razor on hand, and if (Y/N) liked my tiny beard, I decided to keep it.

- "Hey! everything ok?"- (Y/N) asked from the other side of the door.

- "Yes, I'm ok"- she walked in, and I froze.

- "Ok, I'll leave a clean towel next to the shower, ok? It's warm"

- "Thank you."

I stayed still under the water until she exited the bathroom and nearly held my breath at the thought of her being there with me. It was too much, and to be honest, I was too weak to overthink it. But I knew it was going to be a thought that would hunt me back home.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I sat on the couch and drank my tea after leaving the towel for Spencer in the bathroom. My heart was racing, and that shouldn't be happening. Why was I so affected by my best friend? I knew I was worried, and all my attention was focused on him, but that didn't explain why my stomach fluttered when I looked at him.

- "Put your shit together!!"- I yelled/whispered to myself and shook my head.

Frank had called to know about Spencer, but I had to lie and act like I was at work. I couldn't just tell him what was going on in front of Reid. So I texted him the short version of the fact, and he asked me to keep him posted. He also told me he was going to keep Mikey and Lu away from my apartment those days.

Spencer took a shower and sat with me on the couch. I had cleaned the vomit from the carpet and kept a bucket near in case he felt sick. We read in silence for a while, and I kept checking on him every few minutes. He was nervous and looked anxious. I wasn't going to ask him what was wrong, 'cos it was obvious he was craving Dilaudid, and to be honest, I was scared he might start yelling and getting violent. So, I stood up and prepared him a smoothie. I knew he hated healthy eating, especially salads, but he was doomed. He had to put some vitamins in his body.

He looked at me disgusted as I gave him the glass but drank it quietly and gave it back in a minute. I was impressed.

He threw it up in less than ten minutes, though. So far, not so good.

He also vomited lunch. I knew his whole body ached, so I put on a Star Trek DVD to keep his mind busy in anything else. When the nurse came, she did a brief check-up and told me to continue with the same diet and ibuprofen in case of severe pain. We had to put an eye on dehydration. She also suggested we'd engage in some physical activity as soon as he felt better. Walks to the park were her recommendation.

I couldn't imagine Spencer walking out of the house under those conditions, but I had high hopes by the end of that week, he was going to feel much better.

The second night was worse than the first because his body aches hit him harder. He rolled in bed in pain, shivering. I stayed with him until late, trying to soothe him. I read and caressed his sweated hair. At a certain point, I just sat there with his head on my legs, and he started crying. His tears soaking my legs and his sobs breaking my heart.

I didn't know what to say. I don't know if there was anything to be said at that moment. So I just leaned in and kissed Spencer's temple. I rocked him like a baby and did my best to calm him down. He just kept crying on and on, tearing my soul apart. I couldn't handle watching him like that. I didn't know what to do to help him feel better too. All I could do was be with him throughout the process and hold him tight to make sure I kept all his pieces together. I didn't want him to fall apart.

When I opened my eyes the following day, Spencer was asleep in front of me. He was pale, and the rings under his eyes were darker than ever. But at least, he was finally sleeping.

I stared at him for a few minutes, planning the day. But soon, I realized I couldn't concentrate. I just looked at him. I knew my friend was handsome, even when he always argued when I let him know. But at that moment, he made my heart beat faster. His hair was messy and with some curls. His brown beard kept growing. I had never seen Spencer with facial hair, and I loved it. I wanted to tell him to keep it, but then I thought it might be inappropriate. Not that telling him was wrong, but what he was making me feel.

I refused to think I had a crush on my friend. Because I didn't. I was just worried sick for him, and my head was confused. It wasn't the time to think about that. I had to be a good friend and help Reid. His wellbeing was all that mattered to me.

So I got out of bed and ran to the kitchen to make sure everything was ready. I cooked breakfast and lunch, cleaned, and took a quick shower. I was walking out of the bathroom in my clean clothes when Spencer woke up. He rolled in bed and looked at me, confused.

- "Hey, how are you feeling, honey?"- I whispered and sat next to him on the bed. He yawned and nodded.

- "Better."

- "Great, I hope you are hungry, 'cos breakfast is ready"- he scratched his head and yawned again. And I swear, I had to mentally slap myself because I thought he looked adorable and couldn't stop staring.

- "Do you want to take a shower?"- I asked him and stood up. I had to do anything to keep me from being stupid- "I can also run you a bath. I got some salts that could make you feel better. They might help with your body ache."

- "Thank you"- he whispered and sat down. He just looked at me in silence as I kept myself busy opening curtains, folding blankets, and cleaning the bathroom, to get it ready for him

- "Did you sleep?"- he asked me suddenly- "You look tired."

- "Nah, I'm ok. I think I went too heavy on the coffee earlier."

- "How long have you been up?"- I looked at my wristwatch and sighed.

- "A couple of hours."

It was ten. I got up at eight. Spencer had finally fallen asleep at five. It didn't take a genius to see I hadn't slept properly.

- "Why don't you nap?"- he asked and tapped on the bed- "You look like you could use some more sleep"- that was tempting, I won't deny it. But no. I couldn't.

- "Tell you what, why don't you eat something and then we can watch a movie together?"- Spencer nodded and moved slowly. That's when I remembered he felt like shit.

- "Come here"- I stood by his side and held his hands- "Can you stand up?"

- "Yes"- he whispered and tried to move on his own. His legs were shaking, and so were his hands. He did his best to stand up, and after a few tries on his own, he succeeded. But after giving two steps alone, he stumbled and nearly fell.

- "I've got you!"- I said, wrapping my arms around him and keeping him steady. His whole face was red, in anger maybe, or embarrassment. I didn't want to push him to talk or do anything. I just made sure he wouldn't fall.

- "Wanna stay in bed?"- I suggested

- "No"- he murmured and took a step ahead

- "Ok, let's go to the living room then."

Spencer didn't reply. I was sure he was ashamed and upset. I just walked with him to the living room, trying to think of anything else: anything but the butterflies in my stomach.

It was getting harder to ignore the mental fuzziness I felt each time I looked at him. But I refused to think about it. It wasn't the right time.

But it got worse that evening.

We spent the whole day on my sofa, napping, reading, and watching Star Trek. I was getting dinner ready when Spencer's phone rang. We both stayed still. He looked at me with widened eyes, almost scared. I smiled and walked to my room to get the phone. It was JJ.

I'm not proud to say it, but an overwhelming sensation of insecurity and concern filled my body. Why was JJ calling Spencer? Were they closer than I thought? I don't know why I kept thinking all those things.

- "It's JJ"- I announced and gave him his phone. He hesitated for a moment and finally picked up. I walked back to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. What was wrong with me?

- "Mom is fine, thank you for calling"- I heard him say and closed my eyes. I had to focus on the food. I had to focus on helping him get better.

Why was I so upset JJ had called him? It was nice to know more people cared about him. Not as much as I did, of course.

- "Sure, I tell her. I'll see you in a couple of days"

I walked back to the living room carrying a tray with soup and salads. Spencer sat down properly and looked at me with a small smile.

- "I know you hate veggies, but you are doomed"- I whispered, reading his mind- "These are packed with all the vitamins and minerals your body needs."

- "Thank you"- he murmured and kept his eyes on me until I sat next to him and grabbed my bowl.

- "How was JJ?"- I had to ask. He cleared his throat and played with the lettuce on his dish for a moment before saying.

- "She was ok. She wanted to know if everything was ok with my mom."

- "Oh"- I didn't know what else to say. I tried no to think about it anymore, 'cos it was useless.

- "I kind of felt bad everybody swallowed our story"- Spencer confessed and sighed.

- "That's because I make up the best lies, honey,"- I smiled at him, but he just stared- "Everything ok?"

- "I'm not hungry"

- "Come on, at least have the soup, please?"

- "I don't want to barf all over your carpet, again"- he whispered and kept playing with the lettuce.

- "What if I tell you I made brownies? and you can have a brownie if you eat the soup?"- Spencer bit his lips and shook his head.

- "Why are you treating me like a kid?"

- "I am not! I'm blackmailing you with sugar as I would do under any other circumstance."-

And I wasn't lying. I would definitely try to force him to eat or do something with the promise of a brownie.

- "So? What do you say? Eat that soup, and we'll have brownies... with vanilla ice cream."

Reid stared into my eyes, and I held my breath. He was so pale, so thin. And yet, so beautiful.

- "If I vomit..."

- "If you vomit, you vomit. No hard feelings"- I smiled and tapped on his leg- "Besides, you need to get some vitamins in your body. You are too thin."

He didn't reply. He started eating slowly and kept watching Star Trek in silence.

Spencer successfully ate his bowl of soup and ate a little bit of the salad. I knew he hates veggies, so I didn't push him. As a reward, I prepared a big tray with brownies with ice cream, chocolate sauce, and hot chocolate with marshmallows and put it on the coffee table in front of us. We were about to start eating when we heard a knock on the door.

- "That's the nurse"- I said and stood up quickly. But I was wrong. It was Paul.

- "Babe... hey"- he smiled at me as soon as I opened the door and tried to walk in. But I didn't let him.

- "What are you doing here?"- I stood at the door and raised an eyebrow. I knew we didn't have a bad breakup, but after what he had said that night, I was afraid he might freak out to see Spencer in his pajamas watching tv on my couch.

- "I couldn't stop thinking about what happened the other night, and..."- he made a pause and looked inside- "What are you doing?"

- "I'm having dinner"

- "Alone?"- I didn't answer- "Can I come in?"

- "No"

- "Are you with someone? are you on a date?"- Paul pushed the door and stormed into my apartment. Reid turned around and looked at him, embarrassed.

- "What the fuck do you think you are doing? get out of my house!"- I grabbed my ex-boyfriend's sleeve and stopped him.

- "Hey, Paul"- Spencer waved from the couch, looking scared. His shoulders were tightened, and his eyes wide opened.

- "What is this nerd doing here?"- Paul turned to me, ignoring my friend.

- "What are you doing here? That's the question!"

- "I wanted to apologize for what happened the other day."

- "Well, sorry to crack the news, but if this is an apology, it sucks!"- I swear, I could feel my pulse speeding- "And there is nothing to talk or forgive, we broke up, and it was ok!"

- "Yeah, and now the nerd is here to make you feel better!"

- "You have no idea what you are talking about! And would appreciate it if you stop calling him that!!"- I freaked out and clenched my fist. I was going to lose it with him.

- "Good luck with the Ice Princess here!!"- Paul yelled at Reid- "If you are lucky, she is gonna hug you once!!"

- "Get out!"- I stood by the open door and slammed it as soon as he had left. My hands were shaking, my lips were quivering, and my eyes were tearing up.

- "Are you... are you ok?"- Spencer stood up and walked to me. He stumbled a little but managed to hold me. I didn't reply. I just broke into tears.

Why was I crying if I was glad I had broken up with Paul? Why was I so upset to see him at my house? Why was I shaking in anger?

Maybe I was just human, and I was tired of all the shit. Perhaps I was just sleepy or stressed with everything going on with Reid. Or the fact he kept thinking I had feelings for my best friend was too much for me.

Even the fact he called me "Ice Princess" hurt me. Yes, I wasn't a very physical person with him. But that was just because I wasn't in love with him.

For a few minutes, I just cried, soaking Spencer's pajamas as he held me tight, just like I had done for him the night before.

- "I'm sorry"- I whispered and sighed. I let him go and fixed my hair- "I shouldn't let Paul affect me so much, but I wasn't expecting to see him."

- "What happened?"- Spencer held my hand and took me to the couch with him. He handed me a dish with brownie and melted ice cream, and a spoon.

- "We broke up a few days ago."- my best friend looked at me in silence as his shaky thumb wiped off the tears on my cheeks.

- "I was actually planning dinner with the guys to give them the news, 'cos I knew they would like to celebrate... but that doesn't matter. You were right; I didn't love him. I don't know why I was still dating him."

- "I'm sorry"- he whispered and carefully wrapped me on a blanket.

- "Don't be. I really wanted to break up with him. I was just scared to lose who I used to be..."

- "You are never going to lose who you are, (Y/N)"- Spencer whispered and cut me a smile- "Frankie, Lu, and Mikey would never let that happen"- I sighed and nodded- "I won't let that happen either."

- "Thank you, honey"- I grabbed the spoon and took a big piece of brownie- "You know what bothers me? I don't know why I'm crying so much! I'm not sad! I'm angry!"

- "Actually, when you get mad, your body produces a flood of hormones that stimulate strong reactions in your body, like racing your heart and getting sweaty palms. In response to the elevated stress level, crying stimulates the release of oxytocin and prolactin. These two chemicals can bring your heart rate down and otherwise calm you after a stressful event."

- "Well, my fucking body makes me look weak and stupid!"

- "You could never look weak..."- Spencer hesitated for a second. It felt like he wanted to add something to those words but finally just stayed quiet.

- "Thank you, honey bunny. You are the best friend I could ever ask for."

- "Don't say that. You are the best friend I could have ever asked for."

We just stared for a few seconds. His eyes on mine, my hands still shaking, though I didn't know why.

It was a moment I knew I could never forget, 'cos it was the moment I first considered kissing Spencer.

It was a thought that only lasted for a second, but it was there. And like a seed planted on my brain, once I knew it was there, it could only grow and hunt me, like a ghost.

Spencer's point of view

My heart ached to see (Y/N) crying because of an asshole who never deserved her. And it also jumped of joy knowing she was no longer dating that jerk. I knew I could never make a move on her, but just to know she wasn't stuck with him made me happy.

But the fact she had gone through all that alone and didn't even talk about it for four days because she was too busy taking care of me made me feel awful. I didn't deserve any of that.

- "How are you feeling?"- she whispered and smiled at me after finishing her brownie- "Want me to heat your cocoa?"

- "I'm ok, thank you"

I stared at her in silence and decided to make the boldest move I have ever made with her, and opened my arm for her so that she could cuddle. She didn't hesitate and moved closer. I wrapped an arm around her, and her head rested on my chest. And trying not to make it look like a big deal, I also held her hand and caressed her skin, tracing random patterns on it.

- "I'm sorry for being such a bad friend"- I said and kissed the top of her head. I didn't plan it. I just did it. And it felt so good.

- "Don't say that."

- "I've been an asshole since Tobias."

- "You haven't... I mean, you have, but you had your reasons"- she made a pause and sighed. I knew something was bothering her, and I was hoping it wasn't our position because I loved how her warm body felt against mine.

- "Honey?"- she whispered, and I hummed as a response- "Would you call me a cold person?"

- "Never..."

- "I know I'm not a physical person, but..."

- "Me neither, and look at us"- I pointed out the obvious, and she softly giggled. He raised her head from my chest and turned to look at me. I swear all I could think of that minute was kissing her.

- "I am more loving with you than I ever was with Paul"- she confessed and sighed. Her eyes were sad. Clearly, what he had said to her had affected her more than she wanted to admit.

- "He didn't deserve it anyway"- she added and moved back to lay her head on my chest- "You do."

And after that, we just stayed like that, hugged on the couch, until the nurse knocked on the door.

- "You look much better"- I smiled at the nurse and nodded- "Still nauseous?"

- "Yes, but not as much as yesterday"- I whispered and looked at her, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around my arm, right next to all the marks I left with the needles. I wanted to hide them from everyone, and I thanked (Y/N) wasn't in the room. Of all people, she was the one I didn't want to see those marks the most.

- "They are going to fade soon"- the nurse whispered. I wasn't too subtle with my reaction, I guess. I just nodded and looked away.

- "Your girlfriend is taking excellent care of you. You are a fortunate guy"- I'm sure I blushed and turned to her immediately.

- "She... she is... she is not my girlfriend"- I felt I needed to explain it, I don't know why.

- "Really?"- and the nurse seemed to be in shock- "She surely loves you."

- "She is my best friend"- I whispered and felt how my heart was nearly bursting inside my chest.

- "You are lucky to have her"- she added, and I agreed.

I knew I was lucky. Even when (Y/N) wasn't my girlfriend, I knew I had to be with her. Always.

After thirteen days of home detox, I was back to being my old self again. I felt happy, healthy, and strong. I don't think I had ever felt that good before.

I loved spending those days with (Y/N), and I was pretty bummed I had to go back to my apartment the next day. The fact I had lived with her for two weeks was incredible. I knew it all happened under dark and miserable circumstances, but it had been life-changing.

Now I knew everything I wanted to know about her to help me make her day better and all her little quirks. Her favorite brands of tea, her favorite snacks. How she liked to take the last cup of tea of the day in bed, reading. Her favorite bands. How she always cooked singing. She always slept on her left side. And how after all those days, we would be so comfortable together, we would cuddle naturally, even without asking.

I don't want to overreact, but it was pretty heavenly to me, like the sensation I felt with the romantic poems mom used to read to me when I was little. Just don't tell anyone I said that.

- "Ok, dinner is ready"- (Y/N) announced and took the lasagna from the oven. I held a bowl of salad and walked with her to the dining room.

- "What do you wanna drink?"

- "A glass of wine, you?"

- "Red or white?"- I asked her and walked back to the kitchen. I didn't even wait for her answer. I took the white and two glasses. She smiled and sat down.

- "This looks amazing, (Y/N)"- and I wasn't lying.

- "Wait until you see dessert, we have three colors of Jell-O"- the fact she knew I loved jello wasn't what got me. It was how happy she looked to spoil me with my favorite dessert.

- "Thank you for cooking all my favorite meals."

- "You are welcome, honey bunny"- I smiled at her and poured a glass of wine for her and one for me.

- "Can I ask you something?"- I whispered, and she nodded- "Why do you call me honey bunny?"- she looked from her dish and giggled.

- "It took you forever to ask."

- "Well... I didn't want you to think I didn't like it..."

- "You don't?"- I wide opened my eyes and shook my head frenetically.

- "No! I love it! I just... don't know... where does it come from? You said I gave you the "honey bunny" vibes, but... what does that mean?"- (Y/N) chewed her lasagna and looked at me.

- "Well, I always loved that nickname. I thought it was adorable and never used it on anyone because no one ever gave me that vibe. I had never met my honey bunny before."

"My Honey Bunny." That woman was killing me, and she had no idea.

- "And I took it from Pulp Fiction"- she finally confessed and waited for my reaction- "Have you seen it?"

- "No"- I admitted and shrugged.

- "Then we are watching it after dinner tonight"- (Y/N) decided, and I nodded- "You still don't give me a nickname, by the way."

She had no idea, but I had a list of nicknames for her. I had written all the cute names I wanted to call on a notebook I kept in my satchel. But I didn't dare. I could call her cute names in my head all the time, but never out loud.

- "You don't have to do it if you don't want to, by the way"- she added and kept eating.

- "I have never done it before"- I accepted, feeling embarrassed- "Sorry."

- "Why are you sorry?"

- "I don't want you to think I don't want to call you by a loving nickname. I just..."

- "Come on, how would you call me? Do I give you any nickname vibe?"- I chuckled, and she smiled childishly.

- "I really like the story behind "nugget." I think it's brilliant"- she shook her head, and her cheeks blushed- "But for you... I think I have three options."

- "So you've given it some thoughts!"- I nodded and took a sip of wine- "Let me hear them."

- "Well... after that case in Oregon when you got lost in the woods, I thought I could call you "chipmunk"- I confessed and watched her face light up.

- "I love that!"

- "Really?"- I chuckled and looked at her holding my breath- "Well... then I remembered how we became friends and your obsession with cupcakes, so I thought I could call you that."

- "I love that too!!"

- "And..."- since I was honest, I took it a little further- "After last Halloween, and all the carving we did, and our movie marathon, I thought "pumpkin" was pretty sweet too."

(Y/N) sighed and smiled at me, her cheeks blushing and her eyes shining.

- "They are all awesome, so you should use them all, and I can look for more nicknames for you"- I simply stared at her and felt how my heart melted.

- "Ok"- I whispered, and she raised an eyebrow playfully.

- "Ok, what?"

- "Ok... pumpkin"- I whispered and held my breath at the sound of those words leaving my lips.

She really didn't have a clue about what she did to me.

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic @archer561

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy

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Next update: May 19th, 2021