#open heart fics

[petrichoravery]

So professional. | s.r.

masterlist | navigation

summery: when the team finally has a break through in a case that seemed endless and you and Spencer are assigned to search an abandoned laboratory together, old feeling come to the surface.

word count: 7,3k (it got away from me, sorryyy)

what to expect: ex!spencer reid x fem!bau!reader, kinda like lovers to "enemies" to ??, a lot!! of banter, morgan calls r 'doll', 'princess' and 'sugar', criminal minds typical violence; torture, shooting, gunshot wound, parental/domestic abuse (abusive father/husband), hyporeflexia (the absence of reflexes), medical inaccuracies? I’m sure, English is not my first language.

a/n: aaaa this is so far out of my comfort zone!! I hope you’ll enjoy this while I’ll go into hiding🙈🙈

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This case was endless until it wasn't. Until everything happened so quickly, all at once.

All of the victims had been burned to the point that the ME couldn't figure out the cause of death, until Eleven year old Amilie Porter was found on the side of the road by a passerby.

She had been cold and traumatised and wouldn't speak to anyone, so they brought her to the hospital, who alerted the police that then called you. The BAU.

Now, Spencer and JJ were crouching next to her hospital bed to seem less intimidating. Everything was going great, she wasn't speaking, but engaged in the conversation by nodding or shaking her head to their questions.

Until Amilie accidentally grabbed the mug of hot tea JJ handed her by the burning hot part, but instead of flinching she just held it there, as if it wasn't burning her fingers.

"Woah, hey hey hey!" Spencer took the cup from her before any more damage could be done. "Careful, that's still hot."

But his squeaked comment only made Amilie retreated into herself.

"Sorry, I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Did—" he frowned, he wasn't been sure how to ask her what he wanted to ask, given that she was eleven and still in shock.

"Did you not feel how hot that was?" He asked gently.

Amilie only nodded.

"Yes, you didn't feel how hot it was?"

She shook her head.

"So…you felt it, but didn't pull back?" He was trying his best not to come across as too impatient, keeping his voice low and soft.

He went on as she agreed to the question, "Let me ask you this, Amilie. Did—did the bad man do this?"

When Amilie nodded her head in answer to his question, Spencer glanced up at JJ, nodding as well. He could tell Amilie was exhausted and needed rest, his questions were probably not helping much.

He didn't blame her for being unresponsive, what happened to her must have been enough to traumatise a person with a fully developed brain. He could only calculate what damage it had done and will do to her life.

JJ's voice brought him back into the glaringly white hospital room. "Thank you, Amilie, you helped us very much. We're going to call the nice nurse back in, okay?"

She took Amilie's turning away from them as a yes and they made their way to the reception desk. After they were sure that the nurse was on her way, they walked back to the car.

"What did you see?" She asked him as they walked out of the hospital, onto the parking lot. Sirens were coming from every direction, so they had to speak a little louder.

"Wait—can you drive? I'll call the team." Spencer said, already pulling out his phone and dialling the first contact.

Which, unfortunately, was you.

"Reid? What did she say?" Your voice was usually distant, as if you were scared that letting any emotion into you voice would break the dam.

He pressed a hand over his ear to hear you better.

You see, when you and Spencer got together, you had to promise Hotch that you would stay professional when you would break up. A great prophecy for the rest of your relationship, right? Having to talk about your hypothetical breakup on the first official day of your relationship.

Both of you really tried to stay professional, but working with an ex was hard enough, working with an ex you haven't really talked it out with was harder.

"I think he might be torturing the victims until they loose their reflexes." He clamped the phone between his ear and shoulder as he unlocked the car door, holding it open for JJ, handing her the keys and getting into the passenger seat after she was securely in the car.

"Hyporeflexia? Do you—wait let me put you on speaker." There was shuffling on the other side of the phone. "You have Hotch and I. Do you know how he does it?"

"No. I have theories, but nothing concrete. There are a few ways to accomplish the absence of reflexes, drugs like K779 or Leuprorelin, for example. But I doubt he is using a drug, it would have shown up on the toxicology report and the chances of these drugs causing Hyporeflexia are too slim."

"What's your guess?" Hotch piped up.

"Well I think he might be damaging their nervous system. You see, motor neutrons send messages between the spinal cord and brain. Collectively they send messages to the rest of your body to control muscle movements. It's possible that the UnSub is damaging the sensory nerves, spinal cord or motor nerves to cause hyporeflexia." He rambled off the facts and you could practically see the wild gesturing of his hands.

"How is the girl?" You asked.

"She's quiet, but in good hands," he reassured you. "She'll be okay in no time."

"Are you on your way back?" Hotch asked, crossing his arms.

"Yes. We're driving to you now."

"Drive safely." You said, purely for performance purposes.

"I'm not driving." He replied dryly.

"That's why it was meant for JJ."

"She always drives safely." You tried not to roll your eyes as Spencer just hung up.

Being professional when the person you used to plan your future with was now your worst enemy was hard. And while you might spite him a lot, you were sad about it more than you were angry.

But anger always came easier to you than admitting to yourself and him that the break up really hurt you, that you want nothing more than to be friends if you couldn't have him as a partner. You wanted to hold him in your arms again, to fall asleep to his heartbeat every night.

You couldn't tell anyone that, of course, your pride would be in shambles.

So you took a deep breath and turned back to Hotch.

── ⋆｡𖦹°‧

When Spencer and JJ got back to Quantico the team reassembled for the briefing. Everyone shared their thoughts and theories and Spencer explained what had happened at the hospital.

"Um…I know that there is a poison called curare, it's won from various plants and causes paralysis by binding to the acetylcholine receptor of the junction where two nerve cells dock together and therefore prevents nerve impulses from activating skeletal muscles. Could it be something like that?" You asked into the room.

Spencer was quiet for a moment and you're unsure whether he was impressed by your knowledge or just thinking really hard about the possibilities. "Well, we obviously can't tell because the bodies are burnt. But it's unlikely that he is using curare, given that Amilie wasn't paralysed, but developed Hyporeflexia."

Never mind, he was just thinking of a polite way to say, you're so far from the point, stupid.

"Right. So what do you think?" You almost added oh almighty! but were able to stop yourself. Because you're professional.

"As I already said," he gave you a look, "he is probably damaging the nervous system."

"Right, sorry. I meant, how is he doing that?" You had been able to sound so unfazed until this moment.

"I don't know," he frowned at you, as if his answer was obvious (you would like to state that it was not), "or I would have shared it already."

The team was nice enough not to comment on your little dispute, but it's clear that it was getting on their nerves. Especially Hotch, who was looking more stoic than usual, Morgan was finding it more amusing than anything.

"I'll get Garcia to search for similar occurrences in the area." You said quickly, already hurrying out of the room and away from the pending lecture.

Spencer watched you scurry off with a sinking feeling in his gut.

He didn't know why he bitt like a wounded dog every time the two of you spoke. He would like to think that it was because he just genuinely didn't like you anymore, but he knew that wasn't true. Hating you would be easier than this.

On the other side of the office, you ripped open door of Penelope Garcia's office and slammed it closed behind you, leaning back against it with a heavy sigh.

Penelope startled upright, turning her swivel chair to look at you with wide eyes. "Well, hello. Are you alright?"

"No," you whined dramatically. "All of this is so incredibly fucking fucked."

"Oh, love," she patted the place next to her. "He, who shall not be named again?"

You nodded, slumping into the chair. "He's just so—I just feel so…ugh. All we do is spite each other. When will this get easier?"

She looks at you with so much pity, you can't stand it. "I'm not going to tell you that it will pass with time, because, well…" She gave you a look that said nothing less than because you're quite dramatic, over the rim of her glasses.

While you huffed in response, you couldn't quite find a good argument that spoke against her unspoken statement, so your mouth stayed closed. But you didn't refrain from sending her a glare.

"What?" She asked innocently, if anything about Penelope Garcia can ever be called innocent.

You gave her a look. "Constructive criticism? Didn't we just talk about that?"

"I didn't even say anything! It's not my fault that you interpreted something into my very lovely face."

You decided that this was totally fruitless, your fault for thinking that you had a friend in her. "Can you look into past histories of people with hyporeflexia? Anything you can find. People who have been diagnosed with it in the past…let's say fifteen years, suspicious reports of it, someone being especially interested in it, maybe a lot of it happening in one area. You know the drill."

"Yep, totally, ma chère. One sec." She turned her chair towards the computer screen and began working her magic.

After what feels like three seconds—thank God for Penelope's speed on the keyboard and swift fingers—she piped up, "Hyporeflexia is quite a rare official diagnosis, so I cross referenced it with torture or unnatural causes and I found," a few more mouse clicks. "…a Theodore Wilson, who has been in and out of the hospital for severe burns and bruises a lot when he was young."

Frowning, you lean over Penelope's shoulder to look at the screen. "And that's relevant because…?"

"That, my gorgeous girl," she booped your nose with her fluffy pen and you scrunched your nose. "Is because they look suspiciously similar to our victims and…" She paused for dramatic effect. "Theodore's father was a biochemist best known for his research on Hyporeflexia."

You frown deepened. "Is his father still alive?"

A few clicks later, Penelope replied, "Nope." She popped the p. "He died last month, but Theo's mother still lives in Virginia."

"If we consider Theodore a suspect, his father's passing could have been the stressor. Thank you, Pen. Could you—"

"The address is sent to your phone." She smiled up at you as you got up and walked towards the door. "But don't think our talk about you-know-who is over!" She sing-songs just before you could leave.

You rolled your eyes. The nicknames were getting excessive.

"I can't hear you!" You called back just before closing the door behind you.

You froze when you turned and saw the team gathered in the bullpen area. "Um," you glanced at Spencer for just a millisecond to see how much he has heard, but his face seemed impassive. Looking back at your unit chief, you continued, "Penelope found a lead."

Hotch nodded for you to continue and you made your way closer to the group. Recognition flickered across Spencer's face at the name Don Wilson, but he said nothing as you continued to explain what Penelope found.

"Penelope send the address of his mother to me already." You said as you finished.

"Do you think he might be the first victim or the UnSub?" Hotch asked.

"Possibly both. That's what I'd like to find out by talking to the mother." You replied, taking the last steps towards the team.

Hotch nodded. "Morgan, you accompany her."

Great, just what you needed. Relentless teasing from Derek Morgan, fun!

The devil grinned. "Let's do this, doll."

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You ignored Morgan the whole drive.

No, seriously, you didn't say a word to him besides giving him the directions. Of course that only stroked the fire.

When you finally did arrive at the house of Theodore's mother, you felt like you had just taught a class of first graders.

Morgan was in the middle of something like, "—come on, we're all waiting to hear what happened between you and pretty boy—" when you got out of the car and slammed the door shut. You couldn't stand to listen to even one more second of it.

But of course he just continued after exiting the car, too. "That bad, huh?"

If you didn't know any better, you might have thought there was some pity in that comment. "It's fine. And also really none of your business."

"You and Reid are kind of making it everyones business, princess."

Rolling your eyes at his statement, you sped up your steps along the gravel path. The faster you got to the door, the faster Morgan had to get into work mode and could finally stop behaving like an assho—

The door opened unexpectedly.

"Oh," an elderly woman—she must have been in her late sixties—startled back at the sight of the both of you. She had shoulder length red-brown hair that was frizzy and clearly not washed for at least two weeks. Her hands were fiddling with a button of her worn down brown cardigan.

Undoubtedly the woman you saw on the picture on Penelope's computer.

You quickly pulled out your badge, animating Morgan to do so as well. "Mrs. Wilson? We're with the FBI. My apologies if we startled you."

"The FBI?" She frowned, clutching her cardigan tightly around herself like an armour. "Why would the FBI come to my house?"

"Ma'am, we have reason to believe that your son might be involved in the case we are investigating right now." You said carefully, not knowing how much she could handle before having a heart attack.

"What? No, that—that's ridiculous! He—he…" she seemed to have forgotten what she was saying, now studying the ground for dirt.

Morgan and you glanced at each other. This was going to be difficult.

"Ma'am?" Morgan tried again. "Could we come in?"

She frowned up at him. "Yes, yes, of course. How rude of me." She made a sound that could have been a laugh as much as it could have been a sob.

"Make yourselves at home, dears. Oh, my apologies it's a little messy." She hurried across the room, gathering scraps of fabric and dirty dishes.

"Uh," you weren't sure how to say this politely, but you were in a rush and sour mood.

Luckily, Morgan saved you from having to come up with something polite. "Mrs. Wilson, we'd like to ask you some questions about your son, Theodore, if that is alright with you?"

"Oh, Theo," he fingertips touched her lips and her eyes welled up a little. It was a nostalgia only a mother could feel. "We—we don't talk a lot anymore, now that he is at university."

You frowned. There had been no evidence of Theodore being at university. "What is he studying?"

The woman seemed frozen in her thoughts. "Physics. No, that's not right…Chemistry, yes. He is studying chemistry at Princeton. He told me that."

You gave Morgan a signal to fact check that with Penelope and he left the room, leaving you to talk to Mrs. Wilson alone.

"Did he always like chemistry?"

"Yes, yes. When he was young, he always used to…no, I think that was biology." She laughed almost hysterically. "Can't keep up with that boy. So many talents."

Bingo. Biochemistry. His father's influence, no doubt. And it fit the theory of Theodore taking on his father's murderous tendencies. Just a little more and you had him.

"Was there any particular niche he was particularly interested in?"

"Yes, but…but I don't remember. You see, Don, my husband—Theo's father, he would know. He—he was the one who always went to the laboratory with Theo."

Laboratory? You froze at the mention of a possible secondary location. Double bingo, a place to hide the victims and possibly burn them. A place where his father could have taught him his ways, pass the torture down like some families might pass down jewellery.

"This lab," you asked cautiously, not wanting to come across too pushy or desperate (which you very much were). "You don't happen to know where it is?"

"Oh, it's abandoned now, run down, I'm certain. They stopped going there after Don got sick…" she couldn't finish the sentence, her eyes fogging up with grief.

You doubted that he just stopped going, but she didn't need to know that. "Is it possible that you find out where it is located?"

She nodded, mumbling something about a postcard before disappearing into another room.

Morgan came back from the hallway.

"There is no record of him at Princeton. No pay checks, nothing." He whispered to you.

That was to be expected. You just nodded.

All of this left you with a horrible, nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach. This woman had lost everything—her husband, her son, her sanity—but the hope she clung to was that her son was in university, building a life of his own, making a name for himself.

Now you were working on destroying that hope. It might ruin her entirely. Irrevocably.

She came back a second later, a postcard in her hands. "That's the address, I think." She held it out to you.

But as you went to grab it, fingers closing around it, she didn't let go, keeping a tight grip on it. Like a lifeline. Like a part of her knew, that if she let you have it, there was no going back to the normal she once knew.

"Mrs. Wilson…?" You tested carefully.

She startled. "Oh! I'm sorry." She let the paper go. "Here you go. I hope it helps with your…"

Her face creased up, thinking hard of a reason why two FBI agents could be in her house, asking for her perfect son who was studying chemistry in Princeton.

Morgan, ever the escape artist, waved politely, "You have been very helpful, Ma'am. We best be going then, have a nice day."

"Yes, yes, of course. You must be busy kids." But just as you stepped through the door, feet just hitting the gravel, she called after you. "Agents?"

Both of you turned. "Yes?" You asked politely.

"My son, when you visit him at Princeton, could—could you tell him I was sorry?"

"Of course, Ma'am." You let your voice trail off, hoping she would clarify what she was apologising for.

Mrs. Wilson leaned against the door with one hand, as if stabilising herself. "We had a fight, you see. The night before he left for Princeton. I never got to apologise to him."

You were tempted to ask what the fight was about, but you held back. It might be important for the case, but not enough to dig up the rotten bones. "Of course. We will tell him, Mrs."

"Thank you—thank you. Tell him I love him, too, would you be so kind?"

You nodded. "Of course."

Morgan and you walked away, then. Leaving the woman behind.

You didn't recall reaching the car, didn't recall Morgan unlocking it and even holding open the door for you to climb in. Too deep in the past, too caught up in the future.

The conversation with the mother affected you more than you'd like to admit. A fight could ruin so many relationships, it could make you go crazy, make you say things that caused you to drift further and further apart. Until you didn't know each other at all anymore, but you still clung to the past yous that you once were.

You only came to yourself when you felt the seat under you, when the engine started to hum.

"We had a fight." You mumbled as Morgan reversed out of the parking space.

"What?" He looked over at you shortly, confused. He couldn't recall having fought with you.

"Spencer and I. We fought. That's why we broke up."

Morgan felt a little like laughing. "You broke up because of a fight? Must have been one hell of a fight, then. The both of you were always so inseparable."

When you didn't laugh or react, Morgan glanced over at you again. You looked sad, in thought. With a big pout-slash-frown on your face, fingers fiddling with the sleeves if your button up.

"Hello? Earth to earthling?" He waved a hand in front of your face.

"Sorry." You glanced up at him. "I don't know why I brought it up, I don't like talking about it."

Bless him, Morgan's face softened a little. He wasn't heartless enough to keep teasing you when you clearly had a hard time. Well, okay, he had his moments.

"You don't have to talk about it."

"No, it's okay. We—We fought a lot, leading up to the break up. Silly things like the dishes, different opinions on different things.…The real issue was this job, though." You swallowed around the urge to bolt.

"The job?"

You nodded. "We brought it home with us, made it the centre piece of our relationship."

Morgan winced. It was the mistake every agent was afraid to make when entering a relationship.

"Yeah," you breathed out. "I know. But you know us, we work, that's just who we are."

"Workaholics." Morgan coughed to lighten the mood.

In any other situation you would have dug your elbow into his side, scowled at him. But not in this one.

"It got too much in the end. The fear, the paranoia. We just…snapped. We talked it out, funnily enough that conversation was quite calm. Though we were naive enough to think we could stay friends." You sniffed.

It surprised him, to find out you were struggling so much in the past months leading up to your break up. "You always seemed so happy at work. Everyone agreed when I said you two were meant for each other."

"Yeah, well, things that are meant for each other aren't always the right thing."

"Do you really believe that? Or are you scared that it won't work out if you tried again and you opened yourself up for nothing?" He lifted one hand from the wheel to put air quotes around the word nothing.

You glared at his side profile. "Okay, Mr. Therapist."

"What?" He looked at you again, before focusing back on the road. "I'm just saying. Reid is so far gone for you, opening up to him would never be for nothing. If you want it to work you have to work for it."

"Since when are you an expert on relationships, Derek 'has a new girl every week' Morgan." You rolled your eyes. But you couldn't deny that his words stirred something inside you.

"Okay, you're just being mean now, sugar. I'm incredibly wise." He pretended to push glasses up his nose.

That got a laugh out of you. A real, stomach ache inducing laugh. Maybe you were hysterical now, too.

Morgan smiled at that. He was glad to hear that sound again, after months filled with frown lines and sharp tones.

After you calmed down, you got back into work mode, calling the team and telling them what you had discovered. You told Penelope to check the address and she confirmed that it was an abandoned laboratory.

Now everything happened quickly. Hotch ordered you to drive to the lab and wait for the team, to be on alert for anyone entering or leaving the building, but not to—under any circumstances—enter or separate from each other.

── ⋆｡𖦹°‧

Not even twenty minutes later, you and Morgan arrived at the laboratory and prepared by putting on your vests and checking your guns.

The other black SUVs lined up in front of the main entrance shortly after.

You caught Spencer's eyes as he got out of the car. He scanned you from head to toe for injuries. When he found none, the concern on his face melted away quickly enough for you to consider you had imagined it.

"No one has entered or left the front door in the time we were here." You said when the team reassembled.

Hotch nodded. "Morgan, you and Prentiss go in from behind and search the lower level. JJ, Rossi and I search the second floor."

"But that means—" Spencer started to protest but Hotch has already pointed at you.

"You and Reid, go to the upper level."

Because you were so focused on the case (totally not because you want to show Hotch you could be more professional than Spencer), you just nodded.

"Good. Let us not waste time we don't have." Hotch frowns and everyone goes their separate ways.

Spencer glanced at you and you glanced at him. This was the first time you had been alone together since the break up and you were both unsure what to do with each other.

"Is your vest secure?" Spencer asked after a short awkward pause. He took a step closer and you try your best not to flinch back. Professional, you remind yourself like a mantra.

"Yes." You retort steadily enough, but he was already reaching out to tug on the straps.

You frowned at the display of worry, but decided on letting him have his moment. Purely to save energy, of course.

"Fine, let's go up." He said as he was satisfied with your vest. Together you made your way up the stairwell onto the upper level.

As you sneaked through the eerily quiet lab, the only sound heard was the clacking of your heeled boots on the resin floor.

Spencer glared at you. "Couldn't have worn a worse shoe for this, could you?" He whispered.

"I could've hardly worn my crocks." You snapped back. "Focus."

Both of your guns were trained around the corners as you carefully assed the situation. So far there was nothing that seemed too out of the ordinary for an abandoned laboratory. Broken glass, dusty workstations, pipes…Nothing to accompany you and Spencer but silence.

Until a shot rang out. And you wince.

The bullet just barely grazed your upper arm but it was enough to make a crimson blotch bloom on your white button up.

Spencer pulled you behind a corner before you could get hurt even worse and presses his hand over your wound.

He wrapped a hand around your wrist to hold your arm still and assessed your arm. "Does it hurt badly?"

"It's fine. Focus on the UnSub." You scowled, pushing against his shoulders with your free hand. Spencer didn't budge. "Reid, I'm so serious—"

"No, I'm serious," he said your name sternly. "Answer my ques—"

Another shot rang out before he could finish repeating himself, but it thankfully didn't hit anyone.

You gave him a look that says see? I fucking told you so. and pushed him away to glance around the corner to fire some shots at the guy.

"The suspect is in the upper level." You said into the microphone. "He's wearing a black bomber. Brown hair. I can't tell much. He's armed and shooting." You listed off.

"Copy that." Answered JJ's voice back to you.

"Get," Spencer grumbled, "behind the wall."

"You almost sound worried." You grinned and taunted him by doing the direct opposite of his command, leaning further around the corner.

"That's because I am. It doesn't look great on my report if I just let you die." He bitt out, pulling you back by your wrist that he still hasn't let go of.

Unfortunately, he ended up slamming your back against the wall in the process.

You made a noise that could only be described as a grunt. "Oh, and manhandling does?"

Both of you were now pressed against the wall, with Spencer's arms caging you in so you couldn't make a run for it and do something even more reckless.

"I'll just put it down as keeping you from sabotaging the mission." He was panting, and for a moment the thought of just how attractive he was crossed your mind. Until you shook it off.

Just as you opened your mouth to taunt him some more, you ear piece crackles and Hotch's voice was heard saying yours and Spencer's names, "—what is your position?"

"We're still—fuck!" Another shot rang out before you could finish the sentence, hitting a pipe on the opposing wall and causing you to flinch. Steam hissed from the hole. Spencer shushed you and you were tempted to snap at him, but you lowered your voice instead. Staying quiet was in your best interest, to make the shooter believe you were hit and the danger passed.

"Still on the third floor. He's got us cornered." You continued quietly.

And because Spencer just couldn't leave it at that, he added into the mic, "She's hurt, we will need an ambulance when we're out of here."

Glaring, you retorted, "I'm fine, a bullet just grazed my arm."

"It's still important to get it checked out!" Spencer replied in a harsh whisper. He was really pushing your buttons now.

"We're on our way up. Try to get him into the stairwell." Is the only response you get from Hotch.

You breathe out. "Okay, let's try to get to the stairwell."

Spencer nods, gesturing for you to take the lead and finally stepped back to free you from the cage of his arms. (And the suffocating urge to kiss him.)

With your gun stretched out in front of of you, you carefully take step after step along the eerily quiet hallway.

"You go right," Spencer murmured, "I'll take the left."

"What? No—" But it was an impossible task, stopping Spencer Reid once he was set on doing something. He had already disappeared into another hallway.

"Does he learn nothing from his mistakes?" You mumbled to yourself, but do as he demanded nonetheless.

You placed one foot in front of the other with caution, rounding the corners not before listening into the silence.

Suddenly there was a noise. You didn't know if it was Spencer, your imagination or the UnSub, but all of your body was braced for battle.

Taking a deep breath, you rounded the corner. The hallway ended with a wall adorned with two doors. One lead to the stairwell, spiralling down into the second floor.

The other door was open. It looked like a lab to you, but you didn't have a good enough angle to see what was inside. The walls specked with dust and grime, mold forming in the crevices.

You caught movement in the room and walked slowly towards it. You had a half formed though to signal to Spencer through the mic, but before you could execute it, you had already entered the room.

A man stood with his back to you at one of the work stations. You took another step towards him, but your boot crushed a shard of glass under its heel. You froze.

Theodore spun around in panic, picking his gun up from the counter. "You—You should be—I shot you."

You breathed in deep to steady your voice. Theo's choice of words struck a match of hope in you. Maybe he didn't know that Spencer and the rest of the team were in the building, too. Maybe he just saw you.

"The bullet graced my arm." You confirmed, taking a step closer to him.

"Get back. Get back!" He screamed, forcing you to walk deeper into the room with his gun, so his back was to the door. "If you shoot, I'll go down pressing the trigger and you will go down, too."

His hand was shaking around the gun, he looked like he might drop it every moment. The room was dark, just a little sliver of light coming through the small window.

You watched it flicker and tried to come up with something to say, but your brain blanked on the profile.

Being a profiler had taught you a lot, but in this moment all you could focus on was that Spencer was somewhere in this building and you had no idea if he was safe.

"Theo, I know what your father did to you, how he would train you to take every hit without flinching, the burning." You said carefully.

"Don't—don't talk about my father like you know anything! Because you don't—you don't know anything!Lower you gun!" He spit out.

Just as you were trying to find a way to tell him that there was no way you would lower your gun, you saw Spencer through the doorframe behind Theo, gun pointed at him, too. You tried not to look at him as you continued.

"I won't shoot if you don't give me a reason to, Theo. I—I talked to your mother." You tried in a last desperate attempt to deescalate the situation.

That seemed to get his attention, he lowered his gun a little, before taking a step closer to you pointing it at you again. "Leave my mother out of this." He growled.

You continued anyway. "She told me that she was sorry, about your fight before you left. She is so, so proud of you, Theo. Told me to tell you that she loves you. Nothing could make her stay mad at you forever, she just wants you in her life again." You tried not to look at Spencer as you spoke the words to Theo that were really meant for him.

Tears formed in Theo's eyes. A sight that you had seen just forty minutes earlier, in his mother's. "Stop! It doesn't matter if she's proud. I lied to her! I lied."

"Of course it matters, if you put the weapon down and come back with us to the station, you could see her again. You could be her son again."

His laugh is hollow as he said, "Do you think I'm stupid? You're trying to get me to surrender. What do you called it? A talk down? Making false promises just to get me locked up. You never end up keeping them." His grip on the trigger tightened.

Another thing you learned as a profiler was not to get attached to victims or UnSubs. And while most of the team had failed at that, you had always considered yourself lucky—or heartless, for that matter.

But as you watched the pain on Theo's face, you understood. Maybe not everything he did, but you understood the cause. Understood that all of his life was set up for him to end here, in this lab, two guns pointed at him.

Behind him, Spencer nodded towards the stairs and you tried to signal to him that you didn't understand without exposing his location. He just gestured towards them again, frowning at you to just do as he said.

He took a few steps deeper into the room to clear the doorway, somehow managing not to get caught by Theo. It was a gamble he gladly took if it meant you were safe. "Theo, you don't have to do this."

Spencer's voice startled Theo and for a second you were terrified that he was going to shoot. But instead, he just turned around quickly, panicked pointing the gun at Spencer.

Your moment to run. Just to get help and come back to him. You sprinted out of the room, past Theo and Spencer. Theo shouted "No!" but it was too late, you were already half down the stairs.

You silently begged Spencer to hold on for a little longer. But just as you practically jumped of the last step in a hurry, you heard a gunshot.

Freezing on the bottom of the steps for the fraction of a second, you tried not to panic, but just as you turned to sprint back up the stairs, an arm wrapped around your middle, the other covering your mouth.

"Shh," came Rossi's voice from behind you. You struggled as he dragged you out of the building.

Fresh air hit your face as you were forced to exit, but all you could think about was the fact that Spencer's dead body might be lying on the third level of an abandoned laboratory.

You tried to pull back from him but he wouldn't let you. "No—Spencer. Spence is still—Spencer!" You struggled against his grip.

"You can't go back in there—" Rossi said your name. "The kid is smart, you know that. He—"

Before he could finish, there was another gunshot, this one closer. You almost sank to your knees as everyone around you prepared to take down the UnSub.

And were rebuild when Spencer emerged from the building a few seconds later, hands raised, "Don't shoot, he is injured, but breathing." He gestured behind him somewhere.

Rossi finally let you go when Spencer was far enough away from danger.

Not wasting a minute, you ran towards Spencer, almost crashing into him in the process.

Emily, JJ and an EMT passed you in a blur as they went into the laboratory to secure Theo. You barely registered them.

"What happened?" You didn't know whether to push him or to kiss him. You opted for the first, pushing against his shoulders. "Why would you tell me to leave? I—We had it handled. Together. I—I—You fucking scared me."

Spencer just pulled you to him by your good arm and wrapped you in a tight embrace. He didn't say anything for a while, just letting you process your feelings.

The fear of loosing Spencer for good, the pain of the break up, the conflicting feelings of having to work with your ex (that you're still very much in love with). You clung to him as your emotions overtake you. And, fuck, your arm hurt!

"Shh, it's okay. I'm okay. Here—" he pulled back with some difficulty, given that you had quite a firm grip on him, and took your hand in his, placing it on the side of his neck. "Can you feel that? I'm okay."

You nodded. "You're okay." You breathed out, looking from your hand on his pulse point, to his eyes. "Why would you do that?" Tears pricked at your eyes.

"I didn't think rationally. All I could think about was that there was a gun pointed at you and all my brain would come up with was stupid ideas to make him point it at me. Please forgive me."

He looked at you with his big, sad, brown puppy eyes, while his thumb brushed softly against the skin under your eye to catch your tears before they could fall.

You would have said something flirty like, you might have to make it up to me some more, if you weren't so terribly mad at him. "Maybe. I can't promise anything."

He smiled softly despite your answer. Maybe even because of it. It was a silly thought, you not forgiving him. "I can work with maybe."

An EMT whisked you away shortly after, but Spencer's hand stayed in yours until they slipped apart and his arm fell to his side.

He wasn't sure if he could just follow, he stayed away and watched you get checked out by the EMTs.

All of it—the story of you and him—reminded him of Cassandra witnessing the fall of Troy. It was stupid to compare two people who were so insignificant to history to two of histories most known tragedies, but it fit like he still did into the palm of your hand.

He had known that he would never be able to get over you. No one had believed him, telling him that time heals all wounds and that he couldn’t see the bigger picture yet, because he was still in it.

But he had known, and it still rang true. You were it for him and he would never find anyone that made him feel more like himself. It was foolish to think he could survive the break up, foolish to think he would get over it.

Hell, he had taken being on the receiving end of your spite over being your friend because it meant you'd look at him and feel something.

Taking all of his courage together, Spencer decided to approach you after the EMT finished patching you up.

"Hey," he said gently. This was the first time you talked without snarling at each other outside of work since the break up and it felt like finally breathing fresh air again after living purely off of carbon dioxide. "Doing good? How is your arm?"

You looked up at him from the steps on the back of the ambulance. You looked rough, exhausted. The sleeves of your shirt were rolled up to allow the EMT to bandage your wound.

It felt different now, talking to you. The moment of adrenaline had passed and he had no idea how to talk to you. The times of snarling seemed to be over, but the ones of kissing and I love you's were long gone, too.

"I'm okay. All patched up. I don't think I will ever take my reflexes for granted ever again." You tried to smile, but it didn't reach your eyes. "How are you?"

He wanted to deflect, to twist it back to you, but he humoured you. "Exhausted, but I'm good. I'm just glad you're safe."

What he actually wanted to say was: I love you, I'm glad you're speaking to me again. Let's never split up again. Please. And: I miss you, I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like everyone is running laps around me for the first time in my life.

Of course, he said none of it, this wasn't the time to dig that hole. Instead he just looked at you.

The blue of the sirens flickered on your face and even though you looked exhausted, he could't help but think you were the most beautiful thing Mother Earth has sculpted. The Grand Canyon was nothing in comparison to the frown lines on your face, the stars nothing compared to your freckles and birthmarks.

You looked back at him then, but thankfully didn't question the look on his face that without a doubt read, I love you.

Instead, you rested your head on his shoulder in a silent, I love you, too.

There was so much to talk about, so much to tell him, but when he insisted on taking you home, because he wouldn't let you drive home alone after the events of today, all you cared about was that he was there again. Fully. Without snapping, without pretend hate. Just the old you and the old him again.

You fell into your bed that night, the glaring blue light of your digital clock telling you that it was 3am. Earlier than a lot of other late nights at the BAU.

Spencer didn't hesitate to take off your work clothes, didn't ask where your pyjamas were, didn't stop to think what this all meant for you now. He didn't need to, all of this was an Obvious.

You didn't tell him to lay down next to you, to climb under the covers and flip the light off, to let you rest your head on his chest. He just did all of it. Because it was a routine, the known in all the unknown that was your relationship now. A Constant.

In the morning, you would talk about it. While he was changing your bandage with careful fingers. But right now, the sound of Spencer's heart beating your name lulled you to sleep.

In the end, fear and worry had been the best matchmakers.

──────────── ⋆｡𖦹°‧

thank you so much for reading! please remember reblogging, commenting and liking if you enjoyed the fic. feedback is appreciated!! 𝜗𝜚

second a/n: I'm debating whether or not I should write a second part, but I'm not sure if there is any interest in that, so feel free to let me know:)

[formosusiniquis]

“This is a song off of an album, anyway,” Jeff trails off, trying to let Eddie start the riff for the next song. But he's not about to let this go unchecked.

“Jeffrey,” he drags out the name into as many syllables as he can manage, giving the end a singsong-y trill. “Jeffrey, did you forget which album the next song is off of?”

Gareth isn't mic'd but Freak is, so he can hear that at least one of them picks up his teasing with an ooooh.

“We don't need to tell them what every album is, they paid good money to see us. Hell, some of them probably saw us when we were debuting it.”

“But you announced the last one,” Freak says.

“An excellent point, Freakazoid.” Eddie agrees, “And he certainly set this one up like he was going to share again, didn't he?”

“He did,” Freak's nod is a little more exaggerated than it needs to be, playing it up for the nosebleed seats in the crowd.

“We've got a set list to get to, these people don't wanna be here all night.” Jeff tries.

“This is a Corroded Coffin crowd, my man, they don't bow to the whims of things like a bedtime.”

“Thank you to everyone who took advantage of the AARP presale,” Gareth adds, the bit has gone on long enough that he's had stage crew bring him a mic.

“Gareth had his knee replaced three months ago and he's here. These old fogies can put up with the show going an extra twenty minutes, while we dig down on this right?”

The crowd cheers, Eddie only waves them on a bit to amp them up. He sends his shit eating-est grin Jeff’s way as they shout.

“See, it's fine. Now, did ye of the memory vitamin supplements forget what album the song was from?” He turns to the audience more directly, “The people want to know!”

“Fine, yes, you've written so many songs about fucking Steve, they've all started to blur together. Does that make you happy?”

“Thrilled,” and he is. It's the best thing he's heard all day, and he gets to be on stage again for three generations of fans. “This next one is off of Hunt the Freaks, and it's actually about him fucking me.”

[microwavablefork]

Hi! 👋 I'm ovulating too and Nikto with a baby makes me squeal. Isn't nature a wonderful thing? 😌

He heard that skin to skin contact is important for bonding, so he takes naps with the little bean on his bare chest. The little one cooing and suckling softly in its sleep and his heart almost bursts in his chest. Large hand gently draped over the tiny back and the little breaths tickle his scarred skin.

He's a heavy smoker, but the moment the baby is there he becomes crazy aware. Not lighting a cigarette when the child is in sight, no smoking in the house anymore and he starts to try and smell less of cold tobacco.

Most times not one to push a pram, but he likes to have the baby in one of those carriers, his jacket zipped up over it so it stays warm and the little head peeking out looking up at papa.

When the baby can't sleep, he'll take it on endless walks through the night until the cold fresh air and the steady movement of his steps lull it to sleep. He'll make sure it's safe when they're out this late of course, but maby he has a gun with him just in case. One can't be too careful with a precious cargo like this.

And when he can't sleep (which happens often) he just sits in the nursery in the armchair where you feed usually and just watches the baby. Before he used to wander around the house or the streets aimlessly until dawn would break, but now he's content with sitting there and watching his kid breathe steadily. And he's already there when it wakes up and cries for milk or because it had a little bad dream. Papa to the rescue.

Have you seen when people draw eyebrows onto their babies? You do that one time to surprise him and give your little one a grumpy set of brows 🤨 and it results in one of those very rare fits of laughter from Nikto. He rasps and wails and holds his belly and then takes a million pictures.

That's what I could think of. Stay strong, the baby fever will subside until next month when it will inevitably come back. 😌

Oh my goodness me I need him desperately.

[mossmx]

While Merlin is trending I want to thank the whole Merlin fandom

people who have been with us since 2008 and people who have just started watching, people who have left us too soon but will be forever in our hearts and people who switched fandoms but are still amazing

whereter you create, lurk, cheer or just cry in the corner (most of us have been there lol) every part of the Merlin fandom is always part of our family

even if we have no reason to trend we will always have a reason to celebrate :D

[courfee]

“Regulus would be proud of us,” James whispered quietly to no one in particular, still gripping onto the painting like a life raft. 

— Tender Curiosities, Baby!  @otrtbs

[sarcasticassian]

first meeting bucktommy au

when Maddie and Chimney moved they actually ended up quite close to Tommy and it's Jee's first year trick or treating and Maddie had to cover a shift last minute and Chim caught a bug and can't trust himself to leave the 5m radius around his bathroom so obviously Uncle Buck jumps in to take Jee instead and promises to take so many videos the two of them will feel like they were right there with them

so they're going door to door and they get to Tommy's house and Jee seems to recognise the place (Chim and Tommy have had a few hang outs since realising they were now so close to each other and reconnected a bit) because she speeds up to get to the door and when this really handsome man opens it she bypasses the candy bowl in his hand to throw her small arms around his legs

Buck rushes up and apologises whilst Jee is just giggling as she gazes up at Tommy (he gave her a full sized candy bar the first time they met and she's liked him ever since) and quick introductions are made and before he knows it Buck has been stood in Tommy's doorway for 15 minutes just talking to him and somehow conning his way into a tour of Harbour

when they get back Chim is still curled over the toilet but he perks up slightly when Buck brings up Tommy ("that Tommy is so cool, I've been meaning to pass his number along to Eddie" "Eddie?! why Eddie?" "I just thought they had a lot in common" and Buck doesn't get why his stomach sinks) and he mentions that Tommy talked about a basketball thing and that he'd invite Eddie along so Buck finagles an invite too and we know the story from here (rip to Eddie's ankle)

[harbingersglory]

Mayhaps something with (transfem) Kujou Sara fucking a bratty reader who (intentionally) pisses her off to the point where she goes all out with her full inhuman strength, ultimately knocking them up completely by accident because she was so caught up in the moment she forgot to pull out?

I bet nobody expected her to be first out of her siblings to become a parent, least of all herself, but she ain’t complaining!

{☆} characters kujou sara {☆} notes drabble, implied fem reader, sub reader, transfem kujou sara {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink

Kujou Sara was not one to allow herself to lose her ironclad control– she was a general, above all else, a servant of the Almighty Shogun.

Yet try as she might, you..you had a way of getting under her skin in a way that had her patience and will tested. Maybe it was the bratty, teasing demeanor that had her jaw clenched so hard it creaked, or maybe it was the provocative words you'd whisper in her ear while she was trying to focus.

It was irrelevant in the face of her dragging you back to her quarters, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed into a thin line– she tried to be gentle, but her grip was firm on her arm as she pulled you into the delicately managed room, her composure cracking like shattering glass. She wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face when she slammed her hands against the door, the wall nearly splintering beneath barely restrained strength, her expression..less than amused.

"Just what are you trying to accomplish?" She ground out, her teeth aching from how hard she was clenching her jaw– and, though she refused to outwardly admit it, your little..distraction was working far better then she wanted to admit to even herself. "I told you not to..to do such things while I'm working. Do you ever listen?"

She nearly growled– like some common beast, she thinks, and she is glad for her tempered control that she did not embarrass herself in such a way. She still had her dignity. But Archons, you were testing that control even still– the way your tongue poked out like a child, mocking and teasing, as if you wanted her to snap.

She almost considered it, but..you were human, she had to remind herself. Archons knows she's never forgive herself if she actually hurt you.

"What? Can the General not handle a little playful banter?" Sara opened her mouth to snarl back a reply, but she closed it but a sharp click just as quickly, a grimace gracing her features instead. "Is that all it takes to rile you up?"

She wants to deny it, keep her sense of control, but damn it– the way your hands glide across her skin, your nails just barely ghosting across the flexing muscles of her back..she feels her control slipping faster then she can maintain it, her lip quivering.

"You.." She croaks out in reply, trying to subdue the uneasy urge that lingers in the back of her mind with every glance down at you, every touch of your hands, every word that drips from your lips like honey. The silence is broken by a low growl, her hands tugging you off your feet and practically shoving you onto the bed.

"What? Are you going to shut me up? Or are you going to admit you enjoy it?"

Fine, she thinks, fine! If this is what you want so badly, she's going to shut you up the only way she knows she can.

She wastes little time between shoving you onto the bed and climbing on it herself, one of her hands reaching up to tangle in your hair as she shoves your face into the mattress, her other hand fumbling with your clothes– just enough to expose your dripping cunt to her, nostrils flaring at the sharp tang of your arousal, her teeth bared in a snarl.

She can't help the raspy groan that tumbles from her lips at the sight– you looked perfect like that. Quiet, your face forcibly held down, your thighs soaked in your own arousal. She absentmindedly wonders if you'd been so wet the entire time– if you'd just been waiting, no, practically begging for her to just..she can't even finish the thought, her hands trembling and her control slipping even further.

Her free hand fumbles with the hem of her own shorts, freeing her straining, twitching cock, pre cum beading at the tip. Her fist tightens in your hair as she leans over you, pressing her chest against your back and aligning her aching cock to your entrance. She almost snaps out of the fog clouding her rationality, but it returns in full force when she snaps her hips forward, sinking into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

"Fuck," Sara curses beneath her breath, groaning at the tight heat enveloping her– Archons, she'd never get used to it. It only drove her further over the edge, rolling her hips to force more of her cock into you. "Not..not going to talk back?" She growled, huffing and releasing her hold on your hair to instead slip her fingers past your lips. The muffled, garbled response was..far more enjoyable than she expected, the hazy eyed look as she sunk fully into you.

It made her feel lightheaded, to be honest. She was getting a bit too carried away, but the way your walls squeezed against her..her teeth ached for an entirely different reason, tongue swiping over the sharp points before she leaned down to sink them into your shoulder, pulling out and slamming back in with a muffled groan. Her pace was frantic after that, dragging moans and whimpers from your throat like a chorus of broken notes.

She hated how easily you got under her skin, but damn it, she couldn't deny how good it felt to put you in your place. You couldn't even get away if you tried– you were human, and while it made you fragile it also made you weak. Easier to handle.

Even if your tongue was far sharper than your appearance would make one believe.

Archons, she was so close, though. She pulled her fingers from your mouth, nearly crumbling at the moan that tumbled openly from your lips immediately after– she may have chastised you for your attitude, but she still thoroughly enjoyed hearing you. Just knowing you were unable to form anything more complex then senseless babbling was a special kind of high.

She wants to speak, but even her own words fail her beyond a low groan, the absence filled with the slick sound of her wild thrusts, caring little about the stinging ache in her thighs as she pounds you into the mattress without a shred of hesitation or rationality beyond fucking you into silence.

A small part of her, the rational part, tried to remind her to pull out– but your cunt felt so fucking good she just kept going despite the sirens blaring in her head. Even as your limbs tensed and your voice grew hoarse from screaming, she kept you beneath her, nipping at your throat to leave her mark against your skin. She was so close, just..just a little more. Just a little longer. Archons, she doesn't ever want to leave– doesn't ever want to pull out.

Her hands grasp your hips tightly as she nears her own climax, slamming back into you with a broken moan– she barely registered the fact she had cum inside you beyond the thrill of it dribbling down your thighs, not even her cock enough to keep you plugged up as she tried to gain some semblance of control through the haze.

..Fuck. She was going to regret this. She was, every so slowly, coming back to her senses– the first thing she felt was embarrassment, then panic, and then resignation.

At the very least she hadn't accidentally fucked you into unconsciousness on accident.

She was much gentler as she sat up, her cock still half hard as she pulled out, inhaling sharply at the way her cum dripped down onto the sheets. She hated how arousing it was. No– no. She needed to get a hold of herself.

But then again..you didn't seem to be complaining, at least not yet. She hesitantly lifted her eyes to see your expression, her throat suddenly feeling dry at the smug satisfaction on your face.

[lotstradamus]

have you only read for armand/old man daniel or are you holding out on us lottie...

I'VE BEEN HOLDING OUT ON YOU BABY

Armand/Daniel:

MY OLD MAN DANIEL REC LIST FOR REFERENCE

his thoughts were red thoughts by spqr (devil's minion era)

wake up missing me by dustyloves (devil's minion era)

ad hominem by alaczije (devil's minion era)

century of the self by alaczije (devil's minion era)

couldn't trust myself to proceed with caution by exastris_scientia (set in 2003)

Paperback Writer by 74243 (ARMAND/OLD MAN DANIEL YURI!!!)

Louis/Armand:

Please make it start again (there's trouble every day). by williamshooketh (also Armand/Daniel)

bloodletting (series) by williamshooketh (also Louis/Lestat)

Louis/Lestat (this is all post-s2 because it has me in an emotional chokehold):

Mon by Lydia_Eve

to your beacon in the gloom by flashindie

love me at the ungodly hour by flashindie

[beeeeandpuppycat]

I just want your heart

A zombie Leon barely able to speak or think but one thing he knows is he loves you

Zom!Leon x femreaders.

Part 2

perfect duo.

Standing Infront of him quietly. A light cold breeze in the air that slightly pushed your bangs Infront your face. His bluish sick skin having a slight pink hue at his cheeks. If he wasn't dead his heart would be bursting free right now .

"You look rather pretty you know..?"

You mumbled in reply. A gentle smile at your lips. Watching his brows furrow in an embarrassed manner . The pale skin at his cheeks flushing a soft pink. Seeming he wasn't gonna answer you quickly attempted change the subject

..

"let's go- come on."

He nodded in response, quickly speeding up his steps - walking up the half broken steps up to the second floor of the hotel. A free room taking your attention when the purple light from the moon barely covered the door - tugging him along with you much to his annoyance. A grumpy grumble coming out of him as he limped over following you . The door shutting behind him with a loud slam. One bed - a rather big bed. But does Leon even sleep ? Your head turning to him quietly, head tilted to the side softly

"you want the bed?"

..

He quickly shaked his head , nudging you with his shoulder over to the bed. Not in the best state, but so far, the best place you've slept during the whole apocalypse . His body slipped down on the floor quietly. Leaning up against the bed. Cheek against the mattress , leaning his head down and to the side quietly looking up at you with pretty blue eyes. Eyelashes fluttering quietly as you stayed busy looking out the window of the room, the dim city lights and the vines and moss mostly covering the whole city. Somehow ? It looked prettier than before

..

"I can feel you staring leon.."

.

You said barely above a whisper. Walking over quietly sitting down on the bed with your head tilted down to him. His rough hand moved up pushing a strand of hair behind your ear gently. His eyelashes fluttering in a loving manner

..

"howd you become a .. you know..?"

Well. He was one of the few people you thought would survive this. And well you weren't wrong. Somewhere in him is still alive. Right in his chest right where you belong - sitting up beside you his gloves finger moved up gently writing on your thigh with it. A slight hint of blood being left behind

"m-i-s-s-i-o-n"

..

"like a police mission?"

You quickly replied in confusion. Before he shook his head again - you didn't know yet about his job. Well.. you hadn't seen eachother for a while even before the apocalypse.feels almost weird being so close to him again

.

"g-o-v-e-r-m-'

"government ?!".. you guessed out ,cutting him off before he quickly nodded. Always knew you were smart ! You thought to yourself not letting that word quite sink into your brain.

.

"wait- WHAT-"

You shouted in surprise, your body leaning forward towards him. He quickly flinched back at your loudness and the way you got do much closer, feeling your breath up against his face before nodding. Well .. he did tell you once about something "police blah blah blah blah".. actually, maybe he's not the only one that ignores people ..

"Thats - cool..."

You mumbled awkwardly not exactly knowing how to answer. - Well I mean does he count as a police man anymore? Should you treat him with more respect ?His shoulder nudges yours softly, Looking down at you quietly .- pointing at you his head tilted down in curiosity

The last time he saw you ,you were living with a few of your friends no??

"Oh -..uhm.. I was out shopping when it all happened.. i don't really know where all my friends are currently. We weren't together and they couldn't answer their phone"

You mumbled softly. Your head titled and to the side . Now slightly avoiding his gaze. He could tell you were holding on to little proof that they were still alive, most peolle were hanging on to pure hope now.

His hand suddenly moved up. Bloody fingers moving down hugging the side of your face softly. Thumb lovingly brushing againts the skin.

"Wha.."

You whispered in confusion. You never saw him so gentle in these past few years. But it felt nice .- your breath softly hitching tilting your head up before your body sprinted forward . Arms wrapped round before his head and shoulder with your face shoved in the crook of his neck. As tough as you seem. Staying alone in an apocalypse full of zombie and cannibals isn't exactly gonna make a cheery person.. your hed moved back looking at him quietly before leaning forward. leaving a lil peck againts his lips.

"A thank you gift.. for saving me earlier"

he stayed silent for a few seconds. not exactly knowing how to answer,his face was pratically a tamato at this point .before a slight smile formed at his lips. not really the easiest to make out with his ripped out jaw . but you think he enjoyed it ? a quick nod coming from him as he pushed himself back down against the foor. you should get some clean. you need all your energy for tomorrow, you thought to yourself. leaning upagainsts theheadboardd . your head tilted down gently as you rested your eyes shut. quickly drifting into sleep.

.

.

.

.

you woke up. a slightly bluish yellow light shining on your face through the window, making your eyes sting ever so slightly . leon already seemed awake. standing over you quietly with an arm crossed over his chest. his had moved down writing with his finger on to the bare skin of your nape noticing you awake .

"s-l-e-e-p. W-e-l-l?"

you nodded softly sitting up and pushing yourself off the bed . arms behind your back stretching out . you would ask him .. but you dont really wanna think of the fact he was staring at you the whole night.

"we need to go. find some group.. or supplies ".

maybe a police station. but you're pretty sure the world is far too gone. is the government even alive anymore? You're not even sure if anyone is alive anymore except you. And a half?Tho.. you're not sure of another group. You were enjoying being with him alone- but yeah. It would be better

he grabbed your hand softly. tugging you along with him while you guys wondered out the room. leon grabbing his gun out his pocket making you jump ever slightly as you walked down the halls. Jeez.. did he always have that ?

.

'SHI-' you shouted out rather

aggressively when a rather rotton smell came behind you as if leon didnt already stink... torn hand gripping your shoulder and some freaky grumble making your back shiver. fuck- zombie.. in the moment not really knowing what to do. gripping a small pocket knife you rushed to stab it in the eye. eyes widened and pulling yourself back as it attempted to limp forward. leon finishing the job as he gripped your shoulder. gently pulling you behind him. a step forward while he one-shot the zombie. blood splatting the floor that almost looked like it was moving. That's a first.. you've killed them before, but you never bothered to look at the after math.

grabbing leons hand you pulled his glove off. as if you were gonna touch it with your bare hands. - gently poking it while the slimy almost hard like liquid wrapping round your finger. Quickly standing up while shaking it off.- icky..- could see the discomfort on your face.

..

"What- the fuck Is that.."

You somewhat shouted. Rolling your eyes softly moving to stand beside him quickly. At the sight of more coming towards you- Leon mostly wanted to go to the police station. Atleast get you a gun even if you wouldn't use it. - stood there in a fight stance before. To be honest. Fuck no- you immediately toon a step back - which he noticed. Quickly pushing you beside him when he realises you might have been frightened. Arm forward and one step back one step forward. Gun headshot- ting most of them one coming just slightly too close to Leon. You stood behind head poking out slightly before quickly stabbing it in the eye from behind - almost stabbing his shoulder in the process. An angry lil grumble coming from him in the process he turned around. - head tilted down looking at you quietly..

"were suchhh.. a good teamm...!"

You mumbled quietly. Hands behind your back and eyes slightly dating to the side .. - he half looked like he was gonna punch you half looked like he found you funny. - gently nodding while his shoulders dropped. Soon quickly grabbing you back again. Same arm with the gun going behind your back hugging it quietly . - his limping body dragging you along to the nearest police station. The doors swinging open . You walking behind Leon while he shot ahead of him. Making sure you weren't in any open positions to get hurt . Wondering round in every room. Looking for any herbs guns ammo even got a granola bar cause that's such a good find?. Even if he doesn't need any herbs he'd like it for you. - grabbing you closer when he walked round the desk in the office. Grabbing a gun from the counter and handing it to you.

..

"thanks - but I don't know how to use it.."

You mumbled. Your head tilted to the side . He huffed in response. Well he already guessed you were gonna say that- softly grabbing your palm . Writing into your palm leaving a slight stain of blood behind.

"I c-a-n t-e-a-c-h"

Looking up at him- you quickly nodded happily. Tho Leon doesn't really seem like the best teacher. It could be fun, no? His hand grabbing yours softly quickly making your guys way out. His head tilted down quietly looking up at him- blush flushing at your cheeks in an almost embarrassed manner. Feels weird. Considering you guys didn't talk as much before and now suddenly it's like nothing ever happened. There was a church nearby.. tho it's kinda creepy, hes pretty sure had some food. Anything that's not just a granola bar would be better. Walking out the police station - golden hour shining down at you guys. Watching the way his eyes turned slightly purple at the yellow light. A bit of sweat dripping down the side of his face quietly walking with you down the alleyways.

[le-panda-chocovore]

I told you guys I was going to write it

"No, you don't."

Toji's voice echoed on the walls and in Shiu's ears like an ineluctable truth. He stood still, arm crossed on his chest, staring at the middleman with an unimpressed look on his face.

"What ?"

"I said you don't," he repeated but it still didn't make sense to the Korean man. "You don't love me."

Shiu blinked and stayed silent. What was he even supposed to say to that ? What kind of rejection was that ? He expected many things from Toji, he honestly didn't think the man would accept his feelings easily, but this was more violent and weird than any scenario he had played in his head before confessing. He was so ready to handle Toji being on the defensive, claiming that he's not interested in men (despite them fucking every now and then, often after a job), that now he didn't know how to react to the man saying that he -Shiu- didn't actually love him. As if he was wrong about his own feelings.

It could be worse, Shiu thought. Toji could have laughed at him or called him a slur. That wouldn't be too surprising. Actually, that would be more realistic than Toji's actual reaction.

"What makes you say that ?" And, because the other man didn't answer the question, Toji felt the need to elaborate. "What makes you think that you have feelings for me ?"

"Huh," Shiu hesitated, because this was a weird thing to ask someone who just confessed.

It was embarrassing enough to fall in love with Toji Fushiguro -the infamous Sorcerer Killer- and it had been hard to gather the courage to tell him, and now he was supposed to justify his feelings ? Was this a prank or what ? Did he anger a god or something ? How did he even end up in this painfully ridiculous situation ?

"Well," he started and immediately looked away. Toji's insensitive stare was uncomfortable. "Hum, I guess I... I feel happy when you're around ? I mean, sure you're annoying, you're a sick bastard, but you still manage to make me feel better just by standing near me. I can't stop myself from looking at you whenever we're in the same room, I want to touch you and kiss you and talk to you. So... Yeah, things, like that, you know ?"

Toji hummed lightly. He hadn't moved an inch, eyes entirely focused on the man who apparently was insane enough to fall in love with him. Or to believe so.

Shiu was uncomfortable. He wanted to go home. He knew he'd regret confessing, he regretted having feelings even before talking about them. He had no idea what was on Toji's mind or what he wanted him to say, so he kept going, hoping that the man would finally stop staring holes through his soul like that.

"And, uh, when you smile... Fuck that's embarrassing- Hum, alright. When you smile or laugh it does something to my heart, I can't really explain it, but it feels good."

"That's it ?" Toji asked with a raised eyebrow. He didn't look convinced at all. "That's not love Shiu, you just find me good-looking, you don't have actual feelings."

Shiu frowned. He was getting frustrated and annoyed by that shithead's attitude. He didn't go through all stages of grief when he realized he was in love for that bastard to tell him he doesn't know what Love is. That was bullshit. He had spent a while wondering about his feelings, trying to hide them or deny them before finally accepting them. He wasn't an inexperienced teenager who didn't know the difference between finding someone handsome and being actually in love.

"You want more proofs ? Alright, let's go through this. I already started so I might as well tell you everything."

Shiu sighed and silently prayed to not blush while declaring all the cheesy thoughts he had about that motherfucker.

"I learned your favorite dish, and your favorite drink, and your favorite TV show too. I even learned how to cook it so you can eat it when you're staying at my place. I hesitated to buy something for your birthday, but you don't like celebrating it so I didn't do it. I also bought XXL clothes so you have something to wear when you come here unannounced and decide to stay a few nights. I actually want you to stay every night, and every day. I want to take you on a date, hold your hand when we're outside, share some food in a shitty restaurant because why not, go watch a movie and fall asleep against your shoulder cause the movie would be boring. I want to kiss you even when we're not fucking. I can't get enough of your lips, I want to taste them every hour of each day and to call you with a stupid petname because you're adorable and I fucking love you. And this is stupid, I don't even know why I'm talking so much, but you're doing this to me and I'm not going to pretend these fucking feelings don't exist."

He took a deep breath after blurting out all of this and tried not to think about how much he wanted to bury himself in the ground. He couldn't look at Toji, but he could feel that the killer was still staring at him.

"That doesn't mean anything," Toji retorted dubiously. "I feel that too and I'm not in love with you."

Shiu blinked.

"What ?" He turned his eyes toward the man. "What the fuck do you mean, you feel the same ???"

Toji sighed as if it was a stupid question. Shiu wanted to punch him because he was clearly not the one being stupid right now.

"Well, what you just said," he waved vaguely at Shiu. "That's what I feel when I'm with you. The heart thing with your cute smile and wanting to touch you 'cause you're warm. And your place is nice, there's good food and hot water, I wanna stay too. But since I don't have feelings, it means you mixed up love with something else."

Shiu stared with his eyes wide open. He opened his mouth, closed it, breathed deeply, and opened it again. Toji chuckled quietly, he thought he looked like a very confused fish.

Shiu was indeed confused. Confused about how the hell did that grown ass man not realize that he was madly in love too. He just said he felt the exact same thing, and he dared to claim he didn't love him back ? That better be a prank.

"...You find me cute ?"

Toji shrugged.

"Yeah, sometimes." He said that as if it was normal. Shiu wanted to kiss him. And punch him too, but perhaps after making love passionately with that huge dumbass.

"And you'd like to stay at my place ?"

"You cook well, and your bed is comfortable. Better than mine."

"What about holding hands and kissing ?" Shiu tried, confused but hopeful.

"Yeah yeah, I told you, it's all the same ! Well, maybe not the clothes things cause I don't have money to spend on it, but sometimes I take your stuff home cause it has your smell and I like that."

"..."

He didn't even have the words to explain to him how not normal what Toji just said was. He stared. The bastard stared back.

The problem was pretty clear to Toji, and it wasn't really a problem since he managed to solve it in two minutes. There was nothing to worry about. They didn't need to stop their little coworker with benefits arrangement and Toji was quite happy with that. He also found it kinda funny that Shiu really believed he caught feelings. The middleman liked to pretend he was the mature and smart one but sometimes he was really dumb.

Toji understood how Shiu felt toward him, like he said it was exactly the same on his side. If it was like Shiu said, that'd mean that Toji had feelings too, which was completely ridiculous. Toji wasn't a romantic man, but as far as he knew, love was more like . . .

Since they felt the same thing then-

And Toji knew he wasn't-

Which meant-

...Oh.

Well, fuck.

Maybe Shiu did love him after all.

[fuumiku]

Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization

The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.

If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:

Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.

Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like: "She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay???? "Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.

It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.

Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue. But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.

[jerzwriter]

All Wrapped Up

This little bit of crazy started with just one picture I came across below, and I knew just what to do with it! I hope you enjoy this little bit of silliness for my beloved "MOC World."

Book: Open Heart Pairings: Bryce x Olivia; Ethan x Merida; Tobias x Casey Rating: Mature Category: Text Fic Summary: Olivia is eager to share her excitement for the holidays, but that excitement takes a turn...

A/N: Merida belongs to @lilyoffandoms, and Olivia belongs to @storyofmychoices. Participating in @choicesdecember2024 Propmts: Naughty, Nice, Wrapping Paper and @choicesholidays I'm going to go with new traditions! :)

Just moments later...

... and we know how that night ends! lol

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[cariantha]

Sweet December

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 (post-attack) Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Category: Fluff, Christmas Word count: 1K Summary: Ethan eavesdrops on a conversation between Sawyer and her best friend. A/N: This fic was inspired by this Instagram reel and a little “Caption This” fun with a friend. It was meant to be an angsty fic, but then I listened to Sweet December by Brett Eldridge and Kelly Clarkson and changed directions. Merry Christmas!🎄

Events/Prompts: Participating in Winter Holidays 2024 hosted by @choicesholidays | Cuddling by the fireplace

With plans to spend their day off together, Ethan insisted that Sawyer come to his after her late-night shift at the hospital. The apartment was dark except for the glow of his bedside lamps, drawing attention away from the living room and the surprise he had set up for his girl. 

The tactic worked. An exhausted Sawyer entered the quiet apartment well after midnight and headed straight for the bedroom like a moth to the flame. After a quick kiss and a much-needed shower, she draped herself over Ethan’s body like a blanket and passed out within minutes. 

It was mid-morning when Sawyer padded into the kitchen, still a little groggy, with her phone pressed to her ear. Finding no evidence of Ethan's morning coffee, she assumed he was still at the gym, which was his usual weekend routine. 

“That sounds like so much fun. I’ve always wanted to visit New York during Christmas time…” Sawyer told the person on the other end of the line. “Maybe next year.”

When she put the phone on speaker so she could start the coffee, her best friend’s voice filled the room. 

“What about you? Are you going home to Arizona for Christmas?” Christian asked. 

“No. I love my family and know they are concerned, but they have been so overbearing that I’ve started dodging their calls,” she confessed. 

“Oof.” 

“I know,” Sawyer grimaced guiltily, “and I know they mean well, but I just need time to process things on my own. I can’t take any more time off, anyway. I just got back to work and need to catch up on my clinic hours. Besides, I’m looking forward to experiencing a Christmas like in the movies. You know, someplace cold enough that it snows, and you can cozy up by the fire and drink hot chocolate."

“Will you spend Christmas with Ethan, then?”   

From the living room, Ethan watched as Sawyer shrugged her shoulders. He’d been listening to their conversation while he lounged in front of the fireplace, waiting for her to turn around and notice him. 

"I don't want to assume, but I hope so," Sawyer answered softly, then sighed deeply. "God, Christian, I know it sounds so corny, but when I start feeling all upside down, he turns me right around."

"Awww..."

Ethan continued to watch and listen as she tinkered with the coffee machine. 

"We’re both working on Christmas, but a wintery night cuddling by the fire like we had at Dagger Mountain would be amazing. As for anything else, I think Ethan’s more the ‘spirit of Christmas’ type than the ‘holiday spirit’ type. Last year, when I came over to help with Naveen's case, I brought him one of those potted tabletop trees from the hospital gift shop because he didn't have a tree or a wreath or anything. It made me sad for him."  

Ethan raised his brows in surprise, then looked to the corner of the room where, the night before, he set a five-foot balsam fir into a tree stand. Boxes of ornaments and garland that the doorman helped carry into the apartment sat on the floor nearby.  

Christian chuckled. “You sound like Cindy Lou Who talking about the Grinch. Girl, he's been a bachelor for a long time. Guys don't care about that shit. Sam wouldn't bother either if it weren't for the boys."

"Yeah, I guess you’re right." 

A loud pop from the living room made Sawyer jump. She quickly spun around to find Ethan reclined in front of the fireplace. Christian’s voice faded into the background as Sawyer's senses awakened with the warmth of the roaring fire. The smell of fresh pine needles. The twinkling of white lights in the corner. The soft crooning of Bing Crosby’s “Silver Bells.” The taste of creamy chocolate and peppermint from the cup that Ethan walked over and offered her. 

“Sawyer? Hellooo… did I lose you?” 

Reaching for her phone, she apologized to her friend. “Sorry about that, um, Ethan just surprised me… Can I call you back later?” 

“Of course! I should go anyway. I think Sam and the boys are ready to leave for the ice rink.”

“Have fun and send me pics. Love you.”

“Love you, too, babe.”

Sawyer ended the call and set her phone aside. “Hi,” she greeted, standing on her tiptoes. 

“Morning,” Ethan answered, bending down to meet her halfway for a tender kiss. 

Gesturing to the living room, “What’s all this?”

“Since you're not going home for Christmas, I thought we could celebrate together. Here.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he confirmed with a peck to her lips.

“I’d love that...” she blushed with embarrassment, “as you probably heard.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked at the glowing tree. “You bought a real tree?”

“Given your family’s Christmas tree business, I knew anything else would be considered sacrilege.”

She smiled up at him. “You remembered that?” 

“When it comes to you, I remember everything.”

Pressing herself tighter against him, Sawyer rested her cheek on his chest. “It’s so cozy in here. And look! It’s snowing outside.” Sawyer moved to sit on the sofa, tugging the sleeve of Ethan’s robe to get him to follow. “Come cuddle with me.”

Ethan sat, draping an arm over her shoulder, tucking her into his side. But just as they got comfortable, Ethan moved to stand up. 

“Where are you going?”

“I forgot,” he started, “I bought one of those big fluffy blankets you said I needed for cuddling on the couch. It’s in the hall closet.”

Sawyer smiled so big. “You are so sweet sometimes.”

“Sweet?! Uh-oh, my reputation for being a Grinch is in jeopardy.”

Reminded again that he heard every word of her conversation, she scowled at him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to eavesdrop? You could have cleared your throat or something.”

Ethan winked, letting her know there was nothing to worry about. “Let me grab the blanket.”

“No,” she demanded, catching his hand before he walked away. Lying back, she pulled him down and on top of her. “A blanket’s good, but you’re even better.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction 

@jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst 

@liaromancewriter @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75

@socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz @snoopdogcone

@rafasgirl23415

[bidisasterevankinard]

if you want prompts, could you do “hate me”?

Hi, love 😘 i promised angst, so please don't hate me: (look at the tags before reading please)

"H-hate me"

Tommy frowns. It wasn't the answer he expected when he screamed his questions at Evan.

"What?"

Evan swallows, licks his lips, then looks at him with his dark blue eyes.

"You-you asked what you should do for me to leave you alone. That's m-my answer. Hate me. Hate me so bad you want me dead. Hate me so bad you wish you never met me. Hate so bad that I have no choice but to leave."

Tommy silent with an open mouth. No sound comes. He turns away from the man, tries to look for the way to run. But they are still stuck between all these debris. No one will save them at least for more than ten minutes.

"I-I guees that is your answer. T-thanks. I'll leave... you alone as soon... as I... c-c-can."

Tommy doesn't like how Evan mutters it. It feels ... The thud of falling body breaks the silence.

What he sees makes his heart stop. Just like Evan's. Because he doesn't feel the pulse.

"No-no, baby, c'mon, no."

He doesn't have the answer.

Prompts for short stories (bucktommy, platonic buddie and saltommy. Other pairs possible too. We can talk)

[choicesficwriterscreations]

December Creator of the Month: Coffeeheartaddict2

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month: @coffeeheartaddict2

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTMs can be found here.

Tumblr Blog Name: Coffeeheartaddict2

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Tash

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog

Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

2020, pandemic. I saw the ad somewhere, so I downloaded it. The first book was The Royal Romance.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

2021, so three nearly 4 years. Fell into it when I created my Tumblr as an outlet to post my work. Writing was literally a way of getting some thoughts out, and it grew from there.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

I am as much of a coffee snob as our favourite pixelated doctor. When I created my blog, I only wrote for Open Heart and put the word addict in. I have the 2there as I had some issues with my original blog, and I had to create a second, so I added the 2 so people knew it was me.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

So this was my first work. I thought about how the Leland storyline could have played out and went with it. It was initially a one-shot.

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write. I can draw but not what one would classify as well enough.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing in 2020 and just kept going. I did a few one-shots, and then I felt a little empty at the end of book 2. Well, I decided to rewrite it, and that set the beginning of what I dubbed Tashland.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Well, Open Heart, obviously. I enjoyed The Royal Romance and Crimes of Passion.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

I cannot remember the first one I posted with CFWC, nor can I remember exactly when, but I think it was part one of When Egos Collide.

I do like it. I spent a few chapters setting up Leland and his over all plan, putting in the seeds of Tobias coming across to Edenbrook and where Ethan was at. Do I want to go back and tidy up a few bits? Most definitely, but overall, I would not change too much.

Link to part one.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

I will cheat and do a series (or 2).

The first series is When Egos Collide, aka what ended up being a rewrite of book 3. I had started it before book three dropped, so I was going to use some plot points if it worked in my narrative. Well, what bones of a decent story were given fit in well. The whole premise was doing bad for good vs. doing good for bad and what or who would win out and the fallout. I was proud of it, and it is what brought me into the fandom more.

Link to series.

The second was Everybody Hurts Sometimes. Not only a good song by REM. A fellow fandom member received an ask about what she would think happened if Ethan did not talk to Louise and she died. I then brewed a plot in my head and this person was fine with me commandeering the ask, and that series was born.

The series can be found here.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I eventually rewrote my 14-20 of book two rewrite. I was fairly happy with the basic plot, but as time went on, I felt that it lacked depth, especially since I had written so much in and around the timeline that was not in the original series. I am always happy if anyone reads or comments at the end of the day.

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Angst with a happy end with a side of smut, lol. Angst sometimes seems more real and relatable, and I enjoy writing it. I like to give happy endings, especially as some of my angst can be pretty intense, and we all need a little smut in our lives.

12- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

My MC likes to cope with bad things by throwing herself into work, which I do, or I distract myself.

13- What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

I know some of you will disagree with me, but fluff. I find it the hardest to write.

14- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

I feel like I have been neglecting writing in general at the moment. The joys of young children.

15- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Yes, I would. I would probably start them with my book 2 ch14-20 rewrite, as that sets up my world. Then, I would let them decide on what to do next. I do have book 1 works, but I think they will work better if read after my book 2 ch 14-20 rewrite.

16- Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

I have a diverse reading taste (says she, who is currently reading Harry Potter with my daughter). I would not say that what I have read outside the fandom influences me (unless I did an Outlander AU). I would not say influence, but certainly most encouraging have been @jerzwriter, @cariantha, @jamespotterthefirst and @liaromancewriter, among others.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Everybody Hurts Sometimes and When Egos Collide would make good series.

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

No, I do not.

19- What other hobbies do you have?

Baking. I like baking cakes and biscuits. I tried my hand at fudge, and it worked despite putting the chocolate in too early. I do not have a lot of free time.

[liaromancewriter]

I Thee Wed…

Premise: Ethan and Cassie are ready to say, ‘I do,’ but they forget one important step.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,560

A/N: So, I first did Ethan and Cassie's wedding in June 2021. In all that time, I've never written their wedding vows. Maxenna's vows were easier to write. Well, I finally cracked this nut! Yay, me 🎉

Submission for @choicesaugustchallenge prompt "summer wedding"

Cassie Valentine updated the patient chart and mentally crossed off another item from her seemingly endless to-do list. In just nine days, she would stand in the garden of her family home and marry her soulmate.

She couldn’t contain a small, excited scream, a dreamy smile spreading across her face as she imagined Ethan’s awestruck expression when she glided toward him at the floral-decked altar. But, she thought with a smirk, she couldn’t wait to knock him over on their wedding night with what she had on beneath the layers of tulle.

All in good time, Cassie reasoned, turning her attention back to work.

“Marlene?” she called to one of the regular nurses on her floor, handing over the tablet with the patient record. “Keep an eye on potassium levels for Mr. Dubois in 504. Page me if there’s any change in his condition.”

“Will do, Dr. Valentine,” Marlene nodded, scanning the chart quickly to confirm the orders.

She flashed Cassie a friendly smile. “Are you excited about the wedding? You and Dr. Ramsey make such a beautiful couple.”

“I’m counting the minutes,” Cassie grinned. “I have a final fitting for the dress next week, but otherwise, we’re all set.”

“Summer weddings are the best,” another nurse piped in. “Flowers are my favorite part.”

“I love hearing the couple’s vows,” Marlene said. “Are you and Dr. Ramsey writing your own?”

Cassie nodded in response, keeping her expression smooth even as alarm bells blared inside her head. Crap, crap, crap!

Between work, packing up her things at the apartment for the move to Ethan’s and coordinating with Sienna and her mom on the wedding, she had forgotten entirely about the vows.

She and Ethan had negotiated a hybrid ceremony, honoring her Episcopalian beliefs and his agnostic ones. He had agreed to have a priest officiate and receive a spiritual blessing in exchange for non-religious but personal vows, no Communion, hymns or readings.

Writing their own vows had sounded so simple before. A few words of promise, a declaration of their love, exchange rings and you-may-kiss-the-bride. End scene.

But now she realized it was anything but easy. Worse, she had no idea what she would say on the most important day of her life!

The pen dug into the paper, leaving dark, jagged lines on the legal pad as Ethan scratched out yet another sentence. His handwriting, usually neat and precise despite the doctor-like scrawl, had turned into a chaotic mess of crossed-out words and half-formed thoughts. Frustration simmered in his chest, his mind spinning as he tried to wrestle his emotions into something coherent.

He sighed, leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his temple. Sitting through a room full of demanding board members was a walk in the park compared to this. How was he supposed to find the words powerful enough to capture the depth of what he felt for Cassie?

Each attempt felt clumsy and inadequate, the words slipping away from him no matter how hard he tried. Irritated with himself, he muttered a curse under his breath, tearing the paper from the pad and crumpling it into a tight ball. It joined the other pieces of crumpled paper balls scattered around him.

Why had he insisted on their own vows? Should’ve just taken a template and been done with it.

He had been working on them all week and was no closer to the finish line. He had tried writing at home, in his office with the door closed and on a bench in the serenity garden at Edenbrook. Eventually, he retreated to Derry’s Coffee Shop in the hope that a place special to them both would inspire him.

The wedding was a week away, and he did not relish the idea of standing at the altar with nothing more to say than “I do” while Cassie no doubt recited something meaningful about him being her soulmate.

“Tough case?”

Startled, Ethan looked up to find Cassie standing above him.

He had been so absorbed in his frustrated scribbling that he hadn’t even noticed her enter the coffee shop, place her order and walk over to him.

“You could say that,” he hedged, hoping she wouldn’t press for more.

“Maybe I can help,” she suggested, sliding into the seat across from him.

Before he could stop her, she reached for the pad, and he blurted out, “No!” even as she read the words out loud.

“Cassie, my love for you is like an unspecified virus that I couldn’t shake….”

Ethan saw the look of shock on Cassie’s face. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened slightly. For a moment, they just stared at each other in stunned silence.

“Wait, are these your wedding vows? And did you just compare me to a virus?”

Ethan quickly tried to recover, realizing how the words sounded when said aloud. “I—I didn’t mean it like that. What I’m trying to say is that my love for you is something I never expected, something that took hold of me and changed everything.”

Cassie blinked, and then, to his relief, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Babe, I appreciate the on-brand medical analogy, especially since I diagnosed Naveen’s bacteriophage, but maybe we can find a less…clinical way to describe it? This is our wedding, after all, not a keynote at the AMA annual symposium.”

“A keynote at the AMA would be easier than these damn vows,” Ethan muttered, running an exasperated hand through his hair.

He picked up his coffee and looked at her over the rim. “I suppose you’ve already written a masterpiece?”

To his surprise, Cassie blushed and looked away. “Not exactly. If you must know, I kind of forgot about them.”

She waved one hand dismissively. “Anyway, this isn’t about me. If you’re struggling, just focus on us, our relationship—what makes me the one for you? How you see our life together. Things like that.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “That’s some solid advice.” He reached for his phone, unlocking the screen. “In fact, it’s almost identical to the advice I got from another Valentine just a couple of hours ago. Ah, here it is.” He turned the screen to show her the text from Max.

Cassie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That cheat!” She snatched the phone from Ethan’s hand, scrolling up to check the time stamp. It was from earlier in the day before she’d texted her brother. “He totally copy-pasted his response to me!”

Ethan chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Looks like great minds think alike…or at least steal from each other. When did you speak to him?”

Cassie gave him a sheepish look. “Maybe half an hour ago. ”

“Isn’t it the middle of the night where he is?”

She rolled her eyes and made a face. “I know. Max wasn’t thrilled, which is probably why I ended up with recycled advice.”

She straightened in her chair, a hint of frustration in her voice. “I can’t seem to find the right words for our vows. At least you managed to compare me to a virus—I’ve got a completely blank page.”

Ethan chuckled softly, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand gently. “How about we work on them together? We always did our best work figuring out diagnostic differentials as a team. Why should wedding vows be any different?”

Cassie’s smile widened. “Just promise you won’t tell my mother this is how we wrote our vows, or I’ll have to call you a big, fat liar!”

“Deal.”

Nine days later…

Ethan faced Cassie, a deep contentment settling over him, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. As he held her hands in his, the words that once eluded him now flowed as naturally as breathing.

“Cassie, when I first met you, I had no idea we’d end up here, but from that moment on, you’ve captivated me in ways I never imagined. You’ve challenged me, frustrated me and inspired me to be a better person. And I've fallen in love with you again and again, even though I didn’t believe love or family were in the cards for me. You opened my heart to more. I promise to support and encourage you, embrace the unexpected with you, and always work on being the best version of myself for you. I vow to hold your hand and cherish your heart, loving you always and forever.”

Cassie flashed a mischievous grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she held Ethan’s gaze, recalling the day they wrote these vows. Her voice was light and playful as she began, making it clear she was savoring every moment.

“Ethan, from the moment you walked into my life—full of arrogance, calling me an amateur—everything changed in ways I never could have predicted. I told you then I was your biggest fan, but that barely scratched the surface of my feelings for you. I can’t imagine a single day without you, and I hope I never do. I promise to stand by your side, to love you fiercely—even when you’re driving me a little crazy—and to choose you every day, no matter what. You are my partner, my soulmate and my greatest adventure. I vow to cherish your heart with all that I am, always and forever.”

And then they lived happily ever after…

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