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agathasangel · 3 years

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you just don’t know it yet but baby, i’ve already got your heart (diane sherman x fem!reader NSFW)

both an anon and @magnifique-monstre requested yandere prompt 6 and 17 (i think?) so I’m gonna combine them because they would go together well

prompt 6: “Pretend you never saw that. I can’t stand it when you look so scared.”

prompt 17: “I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world.”

warnings: everything, basically. it’s pretty fucked up actually. TW for drugging, stalking, dubcon, emetophobia warning (just one mention), kidnapping, etc. also teacher!diane

summary: Diane Sherman was your Professor, and then your girlfriend, and then your caretaker. As the days start to become hazy and mixed up with one another, you wonder if Diane is trustworthy.

Every day was basically the same. Wake up, take your meds, have breakfast with Diane. Then you would either accompany Diane to school or she would take you to the doctor’s or sometimes, if you felt up to it, she would take you on some sort of outing. She never liked to leave you alone and protectively followed you nearly everywhere you went. She took you home, and you would rest by her as she worked on her grading. At night Diane would make dinner for the two of you, the two of you would relax together, she would make sure you took the medication you needed at night and then you fell asleep in her arms.

It was nice. But you noticed that you started to forget things. You sometimes forgot how you even knew Diane, you even forgot your whole life before you met her at times. You were supposed to be on medical leave for a semester, which turned into a whole year, and- how long has it been now? You had no idea. You thought it was still summer, but the days started to blur together. The next year may have started, you had no way of knowing. Diane taught year round, so you went to school with her either way.

You remembered how everything started, though. You were a freshman, and you had moved across the country for college. You felt alone, and scared. You took a Chemistry class because you had to take some sort of science course, and it was the only one available when you signed up. You dreaded going, until you saw Professor Sherman. You struggled a bit in the class, so you went to her office hours. It was also a good excuse to talk to her, you thought.

She was a lot nicer than some of your other professors, and she helped you through the problems you struggled with.

“You know, students don’t usually like to come to my office hours, so feel free to show up whenever you need me. Alright, hon?”

“Of course. Thanks, Professor.”

How did it turn into this?

Oh, right. You and Diane started to get closer, and you started to come down with lots of rashes, general pains, and you started getting sick to your stomach more and more.

One day, you emailed Diane to tell her you couldn’t make it to her lab because you had thrown up that morning, to which she responded by asking what dorm you were in and if you needed anything.

It might be nice if you could bring me some saltines or something to settle my stomach? I have nothing in my dorm and can’t really stand up yet. Don’t worry about it though. I don’t want to get you sick, and are you even allowed in the dorms?

- (y/n)

I’ll be fine, and it really isn’t a big deal. We’re both adults, and I just want to help you.

- thinking of you, Prof. Diane Sherman

Next thing you remember, Diane showed up to your dorm a few minutes after your lab would have ended and brought not just crackers, but ginger ale, soup, water, blankets, and several different medicines. You talked for a while too, but couldn’t for the life of you remember what about. But you did remember that she stayed with you as long as you needed her, and promised to come back if you needed it.

You didn’t get better. You managed to get through your finals and pass your first semester classes, but you ended up having to spend much of Winter break in the hospital. Your parents came to visit, as did Diane. Diane actually came back every day, making sure you were okay.

You remembered that because of the silver necklace Diane gave you that Christmas that you still wore every single day. You felt bad when you got it because you didn’t think to get her a gift, but she told you not to worry about that, this was just a little thing that made her think of you. Besides, you were in the hospital!

“You know (y/n), I don’t have anyone else to visit over the holidays. I’m glad I get to be with you. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

You started feeling a bit better and were able to come back for your second semester classes. You didn’t have Diane as a professor anymore, but you started to become friends. You would get coffee, or dinner. One night she asked you to come home with her, and be her girlfriend, to which you immediately agreed.

You slowly spent fewer nights at your dorm and more nights with Diane, and then you got sick again. After that, she convinced you to move in with her full-time, and you’ve been living in her house and sleeping in her bed ever since.

Right now, you were sitting in Diane’s and your bed, as she made dinner. You struggled to remember what happened next. This was when everything started to blend together. Your illnesses worsened even more shortly after you moved in with Diane. You remember being confined to the very same bed as Diane helped you do your finals from home, as she explained the situation to your parents and easily charmed them, convincing them you were in great hands.

“(Y/n), time for dinner!”, Diane called. She then walked to the bedroom to check if you needed any help.

“I’m fine, actually. I’ve been feeling a little better.”

“Good. Such a brave, good girl. Now eat up, alright baby?” cooed the older woman as she led you to the table and sat you down.

“Well, physically I’ve been feeling better, but-”

“What? What’s wrong? Have I not been paying enough attention to you? Are you feeling sad? anxious? My poor baby-”

“No, none of that. I’ve just been- forgetting things. Like, big chunks. My memories are so foggy. It’s hard for me to think at all sometimes.”

“Oh, honey, that’s just a side effect of your medication. It’s okay, it won’t last forever. And I’ll help you fill in any gaps you need until then. But you don’t need to worry. Not when you’re with me. Okay angel?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Oh, we’re in that kind of mood, are we?”

“Is that okay?”

“Very, very, okay, little one.”

Mommy was what you called Diane most often during sex. It turned her on immensely, and it excited you as well.

Diane grabbed you and brought you to the bed, tearing off your clothes.

“Are you still feeling good?”

“Yes Mommy.”

“Such a good girl for me. Such a good girl for Mommy.”

You spread your legs for her and she started touching you. But then-

“Mommy stop please. I can’t do this, Diane-”

“Alright. I’m sorry, I’ll go get your meds.

Diane went to the bathroom to get your meds and sleep aids.

“D-Diane?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Why can’t I remember things? I can’t even remember some things about my family.”

“A side effect of some of your medication sweetie. I told you that.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I will tell you this, my love. People have hurt you, in your past. I remember when we met you were having such a difficult time. You wanted friends, you had so much trouble making friends. The other students were so mean to you. Your parents they- they acted like having to come see you when you were in the hospital was some kind of inconvenience. It was awful. You were so lonely.”

“I know I was lonely.”

“Yes, sweetheart. You needed someone. You needed me. I have to be the one to take care of you. I am the only person that can love the way you deserve to be loved. I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world. And I need you too. I need to love and protect you.”

“Yes, Diane. I need to sleep now.”

“Alright. Come here, darling,” said Diane. She held you until you fell asleep.

Next thing you knew, you were tied to the pole in the basement with several ropes. Diane was tying more and more ropes around you, around different parts of your body. The world felt heavy, blurry, fluid.

“Please stop, Diane. Why are you doing this?”

“It’s for your own good, darling. Trust me. You need this.”

The ropes began to cover your entire body. Your face, eyes, neck. Especially your neck. There was a sharp sting on your neck.

Your eyes flew open, and you awoke in a cold sweat, and screamed.

It was just a dream, I’m safe, thank God. Diane would never-

But then you noticed Diane. She was holding a small syringe, that seemed empty. And your neck stung. She was startled by your scream, clearly not expecting you to have woken up.

“Pretend you never saw that. I can’t stand it when you look so scared.”

“What did you do to me? What was in there, Diane?”

“You need it, sweetheart. I know you don’t like needles.”

“No. Why didn’t you tell me? What’s going on?”

“You need this. You need me. Your-”

You searched for the syringe and found it. There was a thick, black residue on it, and you sniffed it. It gave you a head rush.

“You’ve been drugging me. This is why I’ve forgotten things, isn’t it?”

“Come on, angel. You know I wouldn’t”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, just go back to sleep.”

You did feel tired. So tired. And you couldn’t even remember what you and Diane were even fighting about. So you went to sleep in her arms.

The next morning, Diane made you breakfast.

“How did you sleep, (y/n)?”

“I don’t know. I think I had a nightmare but I can’t remember-”

“Oh no! At least you can’t remember it, right?”

“I- I guess so.”

Diane felt relief that you didn’t remember what happened last night. Her plan was working. You would be hers, her precious girl, forever. All that work to find you, to make you trust her, making you sick, making you need her. She knew everything about you. You were her perfect girl, and she was yours. And you always would be.

#diane sherman #diane sherman x reader #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson #my fics #sarah paulson fics #im actually pretty proud of this one

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onlysarah235678 · 3 years

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A Little Bit Part 16

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: Happy Friday!!! It’s been a long week. Here’s the next chapter. Enjoy! This might be one of my favorite gifs by illuminated-blue.

Warnings: angst, mentions of assault and discussions about domestic violence

5 am arrives as quickly as you thought it would, and despite your insistence that you’d be able to go back to sleep, you find yourself still tossing and turning after Billie’s gone. She had actually woken up a little earlier than she needed to, and had snuck out of bed to get ready. She hadn’t wanted to disturb you, but once it was 6 and she really did need to leave, she wakes you up to say goodbye.

Billie kisses your forehead and your nose before you start to stir. You’d been deep in sleep, but the tickle you feel makes you realize that someone was trying to get your attention and you smile as you finally wake up. You yawn before opening your eyes to see Billie standing over you with a smile.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. I just wanted to let you know that I was leaving.”

You take a minute to look at Billie and your smile widens as you notice that she’s not nearly as dressed up as you thought she’d be. She looks good, as always, but your sleep-addled brain wasn’t working at full capacity yet. Not even half honestly.

“Good morning. You look cute. Is that what you’re wearing for the interview?”

Billie rolls her eyes at you before shaking her head. She mentions that she’ll change and all that once she gets to the studio and you just nod before you have to stifle another yawn. You go to sit up but Billie stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“You should go back to sleep, Y/N. It’s still early.”

You sigh before nodding in agreement. You hadn’t really planned on getting up. You were just trying to get closer to Billie. You pout slightly as you shoot her a questioning look.

“Can I have another kiss before you go?”

Billie sighs as if it’s such a chore to do this for you before she leans in with a smile. She kisses your lips this time before pulling away and running a hand through your hair with a teasing look.

“I love your bedhead. Y/N.”

You groan in embarrassment as you hide under the covers and you attempt to fix your hair. It works about as well as you thought it would and you end up making it worse as you peek out at Billie from beneath the sheets. She just chuckles before checking her watch. She really needs to leave now.

“Billie.”

You whine pitifully as Billie just turns to leave the room. She smirks at you before waving as she disappears out the door.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

You nod to yourself as you push your hair out of your face. You know it doesn’t matter now, but it’s actually bothering you. You speak up right before Billie leaves and she shoots you a grateful look before she’s gone.

“Okay, good luck, Billie.”

Instead of going back to sleep, you only manage to lie in bed underneath the covers for an hour. Milo was up and he was being good, but you were actually getting restless. You were nervous about how today would go for Billie despite your conversation last night. You sigh as you think about how nice it was to spend the night with Billie again. You may just be getting better, but you’d slept more soundly by the blonde’s side. You hope that this will continue because when you finally roll out of bed a little after 7, you’re feel better than you have in a while.

You yawn as you lead Milo out into the hallway before you realize how poorly dressed you are. It probably isn’t very cold, but you don’t know how long Milo will take and you don’t want to be caught wearing something too revealing. You retreat back into the bedroom, ignoring Milo’s whines, as you look around for something to wear. Billie’s closet is still open and you look inside to see if there’s something you could borrow. Just for your walk.

Milo’s whining starts getting louder and you hurry to grab something as you wave him off.

“Milo, I know. Just give me…”

The first thing you see is Billie’s sweatshirt, and you hesitate for only a second before grabbing it. You pull it over your head before pushing Milo off as he jumps on you. You can detect a hint of Billie’s perfume and shampoo mixed in the fabric, and you’re thrilled that it’s finally more soothing than off-putting. You walk out into the hallway and remind yourself to check on the kittens soon before heading downstairs. You are already thinking about what you’ll eat for breakfast as you grab Milo’s leash and lead him to the backyard. It’s not fenced in and you don’t want Milo out for too long, but as you walk outside and realize how cold it actually is you curse yourself.

You shiver slightly as you stand by Milo who’s peeing on a tree. You look around quickly and see nothing interesting before following Milo back inside. He’s excitedly panting as he sits and waits for you to take off his leash. As soon as it’s off he’s racing to the food bowl that is set up just outside the kitchen. You grab his food and put in just a little more than usual before leaving Milo to his breakfast. You head to the fridge and open it and stare inside for a second before just settling on eating leftovers again. You’re too lazy to make anything else and you just grab a bowl to heat them up.

You stand around and watch Milo drink for a few seconds before you realize you don’t have your phone. You decide to run upstairs and get it while your food is cooking, just in case you need it.

You go upstairs considerably slower than a run, but that’s fine as you make it upstairs without your head protesting at all. You yawn again because you really should have stayed in bed longer before you arrive to the bedroom and see your phone on the side table. You grab it and decide to lie down again before turning it on.

You wait until the home screen pops up and you are about to just check your email when you’re bombarded with over a dozen text messages and several missed call notifications. You didn’t realize how out of touch you’d been for the past few days, and you suddenly feel bad when you read through the texts from your concerned friend who had started following you in the news.

You squint slightly after writing a response and you realize why you aren’t supposed to be looking at screens. Your head starts hurting after just a few minutes so you decide that anything beyond a quick check in can wait.

Nearly five minutes later you are done and heading back downstairs for breakfast when your phone beeps. You stop in the middle of the stairs to check it and you see that it’s Billie.

Don’t forget to take your meds. I left them in the bathroom so Milo wouldn’t get them.

You sigh as you groan at your forgetfulness before starting back upstairs. You find them quickly and take them before returning to the kitchen. You reheat your food before moving to the living room. You respond to Billie with a thank you before you start eating. It’s not until you’re halfway done and find yourself looking at the television that you realize you don’t know what channel Billie is going to be on.

You quickly text her back asking this before lying back on the couch with a sigh. You have nearly two hours to kill before Billie’s interview and you’re not sure what you’re going to do with your time.

Billie was sitting in her dressing room just waiting to be called out. She was smoking her first cigarette in what felt like days as she scrolls through her phone absentmindedly. She’d considered texting you again, but she thought better of it. She knew that you weren’t supposed to be on your phone, so she was just killing time in the only way she knew how to at the moment.

She took another drag as she read yet another article about your hospital visit. She didn’t get nearly as far into this one as the others because they were all the same at this point. No one knew anything, and they all used the same damn picture. Luckily, no one had followed them home to get another one, but Billie was getting sick of seeing you on a stretcher in front of your clinic.

She had already decided that she wasn’t going to disclose much about that night. She wanted to protect you from the media as much as she could, but sometimes it felt like she was fighting a losing battle. As Billie scrolls past yet another article about you, she finds her mind drifting to your ex.

Billie had seen a glimpse of the effect she’d had on you last night. When you talked about her, your entire demeanor changed. You grew more reserved, more anxious and Billie hated to see you retreat back into your shell. You’d been growing more confident and relaxed with her, and she loved that you asked her for things that you wanted.

Like last night. She was thrilled that you’d asked to come stay with her. She was glad that you had been feeling better last night and this morning, but she knew that you couldn’t rush things. You had the rest of the week off from work, and Billie intended to make sure that you did as little as possible until then.

Billie puts out her cigarette when there’s a knock on the door. She sighs as she turns to see that one of the crew members is standing in the hall looking far too stressed for so early in the morning.

“Ms. Howard. We’re ready for you.”

You’re practically running down the stairs when it’s close to 9 o’clock. You had gotten distracted by the kittens and you had spent way too much time with them. They were all looking so good. You were tempted to let them roam around with Bit, but you had an interview to watch, and a big dog who had proven to like kittens. You let Bit out though because Billie said that you could, and you and Bit head downstairs to the living room. Bit runs off somewhere and Milo perks up slightly before just turning to you as you jump onto the couch. You find the remote before turning on the television with a sigh.

You are about to change the channel to Billie’s interview, but you don’t get a chance before you hear Milo bark. You cringe at the sound before turning to see him with his paws up on the window looking into the backyard. You frown before standing up to get him down before he breaks something. Milo continues barking and you grab him by the harness before glancing outside. You frown as you look around, not noticing anything at first, but then you see something in the yard that doesn’t belong there.

You open the back door, leaving Milo inside for a second as you go investigate. You can’t tell what it is immediately, but as you get closer to it you realize it’s a box. Your first thought is food because your mind is always on food, but then you realize it’s a box of cigarettes. You stare at them for a moment before shaking your head with a sigh. You bend down to pick them up before remembering that you’re late.

You hurry back inside, locking the door behind you before leading Milo to the couch. You sit down quickly and change the channel before cursing when you realize the interview has already started.

“-this season?”

You just sit back and listen to Billie talk about her show for the next few minutes. You don’t realize it immediately, but you have the dopiest smile on your face as you watch Billie talk animatedly about her work. You’re so excited for her, and you’re looking forward to watching her show with her. Sure, you’re behind a couple of seasons, but that doesn’t matter. You were determined to not fall asleep on her, for once.

Billie talks a little bit about how shooting had gone, and she mentions names of people that you don’t know. You make a note to ask about them at some point before your phone vibrates next to you. You’re tempted to ignore it though because you can barely turn away from Billie. She looks stunning in the blue dress she’s wearing, and it’s definitely a step up from the sweats she’d had on this morning. Not that you didn’t appreciate those too.

You eventually look to your phone because the interviewer is asking Billie about past seasons and how this one differs and you really can’t focus on that. Your head is hurting a little and you open your phone to see an angry text from your friend. Whoops.

Apparently, you weren’t allowed to drop off the face of the Earth after getting a concussion.

You text her for a couple of minutes before a question the interviewer, Wendy asks catches your attention.

“Now I have to ask since I’ve been hearing about it for a while now. You’re seeing someone, is that right?”

You look to the screen as Billie smiles genuinely before nodding in answer. You focus on how her hair bounces with the movement before you realize what she’s saying.

“Yes, we’ve been seeing each other for about a month. Since I took my cats to her.”

You listen as Billie tells the story you’ve lived, about how the two of you met. You thought back to that day with a smile before returning your attention to the television. You squeeze your eyes shut for a minute before trying to look to the screen again. Your head is hurting so you decide to lie down before it gets any worse. You close your eyes and just listen to what Billie says next in response to what you’ve been dreading most.

“I heard about Y/N’s accident at work. I hope everything is okay.”

Billie’s smile fades slightly as she thinks about the incident that put you in the hospital. She sighs as she nods before mentioning your fall.

“She’s doing better, but she’s still taking it easy. At least she’s supposed to.”

Billie smiles as she says this and you roll your eyes at what she’s insinuating. You are doing exactly what you’re supposed to. Sure, you might be peeking a little from where you’re lying on your back, but only a little. Only when Billie talks.

“Does that mean she’s not watching now?”

Billie just shrugs at this and you watch as she glances out to the audience. You really wish that you could have been there. You sigh as you listen to Billie say that you probably are before you reach out for Milo.

“Come here boy.”

Milo had just been sitting by alternating between watching you and the television. He hurries up to you and puts his head in your face so he was practically licking you. You groan before pushing him back and scratching him behind the ears with a sigh.

“You’re such a good boy.”

You watch as Milo turns away from you and sniffs the cigarettes that you forgot you just left on the couch next to you in your hurry. You move them away before sitting up with a groan. You grab a pillow and bury your face in it until you hear your name again.

“Y/N is doing her best to ignore it, but sometimes—the more persistent ones get to her.”

“Like those who sneak into backyards?”

You watch as Billie frowns at the thought of the reporter that you’d run into two too many times. You scowl as Billie just shakes her head before responding.

“Exactly.”

Wendy was smiling as she shot Billie a look that you didn’t particularly like. You just wait for Billie to respond to the question you know she’s been agonizing over for a while.

“From what I’ve been told he definitely interrupted something.”

Billie merely smirks at the thought before shaking her head. She, Michelle, and Jeff had all discussed how she’d answer this and they had decided that she should be the one to bring it up first. Tell the truth, but don’t give too many details.

“Actually Y/N’s dog, Milo is to blame for that. He’s very protective of her and misread what was happening.”

You nearly sigh as Billie says this because you’re so glad that you aren’t having to answer these questions. You had been put on the spot and well, the first time it had happened to you, you’d barely been coherent. You knew that Billie could do a better job of explaining everything, and you were grateful that you both had talked about what she was going to say.

You had told Billie that you didn’t care what she said. You’d been fresh out of the hospital and a little too tired to be sincere, but after you’d slept a little more the two of you had a serious conversation. You were only a little worried about people knowing too much about you. You figured that some things were public record and could be figured out easily enough, so you didn’t care much about that. The only thing you really had been concerned about was the topic that Billie was discussing now.

She was doing exactly what’s she’d promised and you couldn’t be more appreciative.

“I guess you haven’t earned his approval yet?”

Billie just smiles as you roll your eyes at the thought. Milo loves Billie and is honestly wagging his tail just from watching her on TV. He comes up to jump next to you on the couch and you sigh before deciding that it’s fine, if he sits on your lap. You pat your lap and your 70lbs dog eagerly scrambles on top of you before turning back to the television.

You already feel his weight and you know this won’t last long, but you like watching as Milo stares at the television.

“Not quite.”

You sigh at the lie before your phone vibrates again. You shoot it a look but it’s just out of reach so you leave it be for now. The interview is finishing up and you breathe out a sigh of relief before frowning in confusion. What time was it? That seemed to fly by. It was just before 9:30, but it felt like it had only been a few minutes since you sat down. You push Milo off of you with a groan before standing up to stretch. You grab your phone to send Billie a text before you look to your friend’s message. You wander into the kitchen and refill Milo’s water bowl. As he takes a drink you look out the window at the backyard. You look at the garden for a minute trying to figure out what is different.

Billie had showed you pictures of her garden, and you’d seen it when you walked Milo, but you could tell that something was off. You leave Milo inside as you go out and investigate, and you hurry over to the garden to take a better look.

The flowers on the right look about the same as when you’d seen them last. There were a lot of vegetables next to these that made you hungry, but then you saw the lettuce on the left and frowned.

“What the...?”

You kneel down to get a closer look, and your frown deepens as you confirm that the lettuce was squished. The head was crushed and torn by what looked like a big footprint. Who would be walking back here other than Billie? You blame your concussion on the fact that you don’t realize it immediately, but once you remember what you’d found earlier you manage to connect the dots.

The cigarettes.

You never really got a good look at Billie’s cigarettes. She always kept them in a case so you couldn’t tell what kind they were. That didn’t matter much because you doubt that Billie would leave them in the yard, on purpose or otherwise. As you wander back inside and meet Milo at the door you remember how he’d barked too. He doesn’t usually bark unless he has a reason. Aka if he wants your attention or if he’s trying to tell you something.

This thought makes you stiffen before you head toward the front door. You make sure to lock the back door behind you though because suddenly you’re on edge. You stop at the front door, deciding not to open it, and you go to the next room over to look out the window. You don’t see anyone or any cars on the street, so you relax a little, but you still don’t let your guard down.

Had someone been watching you?

Billie is on her way home from the studio when you text her again. She hadn’t stuck around long after the interview because she wanted to get home to check on you. She of course had to stay for a while to talk to the host, but she didn’t linger for long. Although the interview had gone pretty well in her opinion, that didn’t mean that Wendy wouldn’t try to ask more invasive questions behind the scenes. Billie had answered all that she wanted to about you and she really just wanted to get home.

Billie responded to your first text about ‘killing it’ before she started the drive home. It was almost half an hour without traffic, so Billie was lucky to be home in only 40 minutes. Once she’s home, she closes the car door behind her and hurries inside. She is as quiet as possible as she opens the door in case you are sleeping, but she realizes that it doesn’t matter. You hear her anyway and are quick to greet her.

“Billie, you’re back already?”

The medium turns around from shutting the door just in time to catch you as you run into her. You wrap your arms around her tightly as you pull her in for a hug and Billie is a little caught off guard by your enthusiasm. It seems that you’re feeling better. She hugs you back before nodding and pulling away to pay attention to Milo too. He’s pawing at her and whining as you and Billie embrace. After a quick scratch behind the ears, Milo is placated and just sits and watches the two of you to see if you do anything interesting.

“Traffic wasn’t bad. Are you feeling alright?”

Billie smiles as she asks this because she can definitely tell that you are, and she loves to see it. She loves the smile she receives in response as you just nod enthusiastically and talk about how you’d been since she left. You two make your way to the kitchen for a drink as you ramble excitedly.

“Yes! Much better thanks. I had to lie down and just listen for the last half of the interview, but I loved it. You did so well! I know I don’t know much about all of that, but I think you did great. Also, you definitely looked TV ready. You looked--.”

You trail off as you take a second to look at the medium who really does look amazing. You love this dress on her. You look to Billie’s hair again before you stifle the urge to smile wider and reach out and touch. You completely forgot what you were saying and you watch Billie pour herself a drink before smiling at you. She asks if you want one, but you just shake your head in response.

“You know enough dear, thank you. Your opinion means more than anyone else’s.”

You roll your eyes at Billie’s words before you change your mind and grab Billie’s drink before she can. Billie shoots you a look and you shoot it back before you just smile and hand it to her. You’re not in the mood to be too bratty right now.

“Did you get my text?”

Billie hesitates as she thinks about this before nodding. She had been driving and forgot about it, and she says this with an apologetic look that you just wave off. You leave the kitchen and wander over to the living room where you left the box of cigarettes. You grab them before holding them up for Billie to see. You return to the kitchen and glance outside as you explain what had happened while Billie was gone.

“It’s okay. I was just asking about these? I found them outside, and it also looks like someone stepped on your lettuce. Sorry.”

Billie frowns as she looks to the box of cigarettes that definitely doesn’t belong to her. She holds out her hand and you give them to her, watching as she inspects the box. It was fairly new and must have been left there recently. Today probably given how often you two went out there with Milo.

“How did you say you found them?”

Mason scowled as he returned to his office empty-handed yet again. Ever since he had been lucky enough to get the shots of you and Billie last week, he had been working hard to prove his worth. He had been following you and Billie constantly, but he hadn’t been able to get more than a few shots of either of you.

He had been at the clinic when you passed out, and he’d followed you to the hospital. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to get anything there since security wouldn’t let him in, and he wouldn’t have been able to get into the emergency room anyway.

He hadn’t seen Billie again until she started walking your dog. Mason wouldn’t admit it, but he wasn’t brave enough to confront Billie when she was with Milo. He didn’t want to get attacked again and he just watched as the medium walked him through the neighborhood. It wasn’t until a couple of days later that you joined her.

As cute as this domestic crap was, he couldn’t really use any of it. No one would really care about it, and he would be laughed at by his peers and criticized by his boss. No, he needed something else, but he just wasn’t sure how to get it.

He was still looking into your accident, but he couldn’t figure out much. You hadn’t said anything, and Billie hadn’t said anything helpful during her interview today. After failing to get anything useful from you, he’d hidden and waited until Billie got back from her interview. He literally had nothing but you and Billie walking your dog, the dog that had caught him in the backyard just seconds after he got there.

He just hoped that his contact at your apartment panned out, or else he would have nothing.

Billie had two more interviews this week, specifically on Friday. You hadn’t remembered about them immediately despite her telling you, and you felt guilty about it. She tried to reassure you that it wasn’t a big deal though. You were recovering, but you were still pouting as Billie looked at some of the materials Michelle had sent over.

“Do you need to work for the rest of the day?”

You’re lying on the couch looking through your phone when Billie looks over to you. She’d been a little more lenient because you were feeling better, but Billie was still wary of you spending too much time reading. Still, she knew you were probably working so she left it alone for now.

“I shouldn’t no. Maybe another hour or so. Why? Did you have something else in mind?”

You laugh at Billie’s tone before rolling your eyes at her suggestion. You knew she was partially kidding, but your mind wandered to what else you two could do other than what you’d originally planned on. You put your phone down because you’ve done all you’re going to at the moment. You had emailed your boss yesterday and confirmed that you could work on Monday. Since then, you’d been scanning through the few emails you’d gotten since Sunday.

For once, you were glad that news traveled fast because it meant fewer emails for you to go through. You looked at the time and did a little math before deciding to go for it. The worst Billie could say was no.

“Well, if you have time, I was thinking that maybe we can go to my place later to grab some of my things? Not that I don’t love wearing your clothes.”

Billie actually laughs at this before she really thinks about your question. She had invited you here for an unspecified amount of time, but if you really were going to stay until you had to work you raised a good point. Billie was running out of clothes to give you. She sighs before realizing that she was getting a little ahead of herself. She should check and see what your intentions were before making plans with you.

“Did you want to stay here for the rest of the week? I know Dr. Skinner said at least that long.”

Billie wanted to say more. She wanted to tell you that you were welcome to stay here, but she didn’t want to pressure you. Despite her earlier comment she wanted you to be comfortable and recover as fast as possible. She didn’t want to mess that up in any way.

You nod before groaning as you sit up and run a hand through your hair. You definitely wouldn’t mind staying with Billie, but you don’t want to overstay your welcome. You loved being around the medium, but if she was going to be working for the next couple of days, you didn’t want to be in the way.

“I won’t annoy you with my presence? Or Milo’s for that matter?”

Billie simply smiles before shaking her head. She would want nothing more than for you to stay here with her. She had planned on spending this week with you, and selfishly she was glad that it was here so she didn’t have to worry about the kittens. She knew you probably weren’t as comfortable here, but she was hoping that over the next couple of days she could change that.

“Of course not, Y/N. I would love if you two stayed here.”

You smile gratefully before nodding to yourself. You were blushing slightly but you shake it off as you open your mouth to ask again, but Billie beats you to it.

“How about I finish this up and then we go? Does that work?”

You agree to this and you let Billie get back to what she was doing as you start to make a list. You don’t want to forget anything, but as you get started you realize that you’ve forgotten something major.

“My car!”

Billie turns to see you staring wide-eyed at your phone before you look up at her. She doesn’t get a chance to ask what you’re talking about before you shake your head.

“I forgot about my car! Is it still at work? Wait, of course it is.”

You scold yourself for being so dumb before you sigh and try to figure out how you’ll get it back. You don’t realize how far down the rabbit hole you’ve gone trying to figure this out until Billie speaks up and clues you in on something that she and Erin had briefly discussed when they were arranging for Milo to be dropped off.

“Y/N. I talked to Erin and she said that she could bring it over, or it could stay there until you work again.”

You nod in thought because although you’re not supposed to be driving for at least a week, you don’t like the idea of your car just sitting in the clinic parking lot. Either way, there’s not much that can be done about it now, so you just let it go for the time being. You are just glad that you will be able to go to your apartment soon.

While Billie finishes up working, you check on the cats and take Milo into the backyard for some time outside. He is eager to sniff around and even tries to eat some of the vegetables before you redirect his attention. The two of you just sit on the deck, Milo on his back so he can get belly scratches as you take time to just relax and be outside. You want to go on a walk, but you’re too lazy and don’t want to risk a headache before you go to your place. You plan on bringing Milo because you don’t want him left alone at Billie’s house with the cats.

You have another reason for wanting to bring Milo with you though. You didn’t think you’d run into trouble, but you haven’t been there since leaving for work Sunday. You were only a little freaked out about the idea of going back and running into Doug again. You hadn’t really considered it much because you didn’t want to for all the reasons you’d given Billie, but now?

If you weren’t going to report him to the police, you at least were going to do a better job of ignoring him. Or being more alert when he was around.

Milo yawns before rolling onto his stomach and shaking fur and dirt everywhere. You groan in annoyance as you close your eyes and wipe the dirt off your face. You look at the time and decide that you should eat more before you go. You’re also just a little anxious about going back and eating a little might help you with your nerves. You lead Milo back inside, making sure his feet weren’t muddy before heading for the kitchen. You stop a couple steps in though when you don’t hear Billie on the phone, and you head her way to see what she’s up to.

“Hey. How’s it going?”

Billie looks up just in time to meet you for a quick kiss before sighing in response. You move to lean against the chair across from her as Billie takes one last look at her computer.

“I’m almost done. Are you ready to go?”

You’re surprised by this and your eyes widen as you hurry to speak. You shake your head before standing up straight again.

“Oh yeah, but I wasn’t rushing you. Just being nosy.”

Billie only smiles before shaking her head and mentioning that she was done anyway. She had tomorrow to work on this and she wasn’t as worried now that she had an interview under her belt. The first one was always the worst. At least that’s how it was supposed to go.

“You’re not, Y/N. You can ask anything. You know that.”

You blush slightly but nod in understanding as Billie shuts her computer and stands up with a sigh. You smile as she looks to her clothes, probably deciding on whether or not she should change before she looks back to you. Her smile changes to one that’s softer as she comes to stand by you. She reaches out for the hoodie that you had forgotten you’d put on this morning.

“This looks good on you, sweetheart. I thought you didn’t like wearing my clothes?”

Billie’s teasing has the desired effect and she watches as you laugh to cover your slight blush. You are getting used to Billie teasing you, but despite this, you know Billie likes to see you blush. You shake your head finally before following Billie as she heads to the kitchen to grab her things.

“I never said that. I just—you know, miss my jeans.”

You honestly just said the first piece of clothing that would come to mind. You don’t really miss much in particular, but if you had to pick something you would have said your sweatpants. You’d wear them all day everyday if you could.

Your thoughts are cut off as Billie just chuckles as she grabs her keys and her phone before turning toward the front door.

“I miss your jeans too, dear.”

You stop short of waving Milo over to you when Billie says this. You rack your brain for a time where Billie has actually seen you wear any. You frown and go to say this, but Billie cuts you off with another laugh. She opens the door for you, waiting as you get Milo ready to go.

“Wait…you haven’t even...?”

“You’re right. I haven’t, but maybe we can change that?”

You hurry through the front door so Billie doesn’t see you blushing, and she just follows you smirking the entire way to the car.

When the three of you arrive to your apartment building you have to resist the urge to run inside. There are a lot of people here, like usual, but you suddenly feel overwhelmed. You keep Milo close to you despite his excited attempts to run ahead of you, and you grab Billie’s hand without thinking. You go to pull it away because you didn’t ask, but Billie just holds yours tighter before following you into the building.

You head over to the elevator, not making eye contact with anyone as you press the button a little too hard. Billie frowns at this but she doesn’t say anything until you’re in the elevator with Milo practically running circles around you, he’s so excited. You’re too agitated to tell him to calm down and you just sigh as Billie squeezes your hand tighter.

“Are you alright, Y/N? You’re tense.”

You bite your lip as you think about whether or not you want to tell Billie what’s going on in your head. You just sigh before nodding and watching as you reach the second floor.

“A little bit. I just didn’t think coming here would be so…nerve-wracking. It’s stupid.”

Billie’s about to tell you that it’s not stupid at all, but the door opens on the third floor and you and Milo step aside to let whoever it is on. It’s a kid, maybe 10 years old who’s wearing his swimsuit. He looks vaguely familiar to you and you just smile as Milo’s tail starts smacking against the wall. You don’t notice immediately because you’re staring at the number 3 displayed on the wall waiting until you can get out, but Billie notices the amazed, baffled look on the boy’s face. The brunette is staring at Billie and she just smiles before reaching out to pet Milo.

The elevator finally dings as it arrives to your floor and you sigh in relief as the door opens. You hold Milo back as he tries to run out, and he whines as you shoot him a look.

“Milo stop it. Wait.”

You wait for the little boy to go first and then Billie before you walk out. You miss the small wave that Billie gives the boy who’s still staring at her in awe as you make your way down the hall. You grab your keys from your pocket and sigh when the lock clicks. The door swings open and you let Milo go and run to where ever he wants before looking around for Billie. She’s trailing behind and you realize that you’d been a little inattentive so you shoot her a smile.

“Sorry, Billie. Come on in.”

Billie did and you were quick to shut the door behind her and lock it. You are about to run to your room and start getting things together when you see Billie wander toward the kitchen. It reminds you that you’re still too tense to be your usual self and you sigh as you follow Billie into the kitchen.

“If you can find anything that you want, it’s yours. I haven’t gone shopping since…last week?”

Billie just smiles as she shakes her head at you. She had been heading over to Milo’s food and treats because she figured you needed them. She was going to try and collect it for you to take back to her house. You smile as Billie says this and you try to figure out what would be best. You stored it in a bin too big to lug around so you hurry to find a container that will carry enough to last the week.

“Do you have any bags, or...?”

Billie trails off as you shake your head and pull out a Tupperware container. You know that Milo will not hesitate to eat through the bag to get to his food and you don’t want him to poop out plastic again.

“Uh, here put it in this. It’s safer from him this way.”

Billie just nods before she opens Milo’s food and starts scooping it into the container.

“I’ll handle this. Go get your jeans.”

You laugh at this before getting on your tiptoes to kiss Billie in thanks. You pull away with a smile before turning and leaving the kitchen.

“Thanks, Billie.”

You pass Milo who is rolling around on the carpet in the living room on your way upstairs. You pull your phone out to look at your list before you go to your closet to grab your bag. You hurry because you need to get back to Billie’s house sooner rather than later. You’d left the cats alone which should be fine at this point, but they still needed to be checked on periodically. For this reason, you start stripping as you reach into your closet for a change of clothes. Despite it being warm out you pull on a pair of jeans, before wandering around aimlessly looking for the next item on your list. You haven’t decided what shirt you wanted yet and you’re still walking around half dressed when Billie finishes up in the kitchen.

She’s packed Milo’s food and some treats, but there wasn’t anything else that he really needed. So she wanders around a little before deciding to head upstairs and see if you needed help. She hadn’t expected you to be mostly done already, or to only be half-dressed when she showed up.

Billie knocks on the door frame since the door was open and you jump before turning around as you zip up your bag. You have everything you need but a damn shirt. You smile slightly as you wave Billie into the room. You turn back toward your dresser to grab a t-shirt. You’re going to be in the Billie’s house for the rest of the day. It’s not like it really matters what you wear.

“Come on in. I’m almost done.”

Billie smiles as she walks into the room and looks around for a moment. She’s never been in it before, but it was almost exactly what she expected. It was very clean and the bed had some of Milo’s fur on it.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

You smile and nod as you pull your shirt over your head and run to grab your phone off the bed. You check the list one last time before making sure that you have your charger and your computer too. You probably won’t use it much, but you want it just in case. You don’t want to have to use Billie’s when she’s so busy.

“Yeah, sorry. I just needed to decide what to wear.”

Billie frowns slightly at your apology before shaking her head. She isn’t sure why you feel the need to apologize so much when you’ve done nothing wrong. She walks towards you and reaches out to straighten your hair with a smile.

“You don’t need to apologize, Y/N, but I like your decision.”

You smile a little before nodding to yourself. You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything, but it was just a habit. It left your mouth sometimes before you even realized it. You let Billie play with your hair for a few seconds before you respond with a sigh.

“You’re right. Are you ready to go?”

You and Billie are back in the elevator with Milo a few minutes later. You’ve got your bag and Milo while Billie’s holding the bag with Milo’s food. You make it to the lobby without any trouble, but as you’re passing the front desk you remember that you haven’t checked your mail in a while. You sigh as you look to Billie who has noticed that you stopped and you shoot her a questioning look.

“I forgot to check my mail. Can meet you at the car?”

Billie just nods before she reaches out for Milo to take him with her. Instead, you give her your bag and hope that she doesn’t question it. She just adjusts what she’s holding to take your bag and you smile gratefully before turning toward the mailboxes. You’ll make this as quick as possible.

“I’ll be right there. Thank you.”

Billie just nods and heads outside as you hurry to check your mail. You grab your keys from your pocket checking to make sure Milo is sitting out of the way before opening it and checking to see what you have. You keep the couple of bills that you see, but put everything else back in the box for now. You’ll worry about it later.

You’re leaving the room and heading back toward the front doors when you spot someone that looks like Doug at the end of the hall. You don’t even bother to confirm that it’s him before you practically run outside. You feel your head swim, but you ignore it as you take a second to slow down once you’re outside to let Milo pee. You sigh before walking to where Billie’s parked and already waiting with the car running. You put Milo in the back seat, looking for his buckle before you remember it’s in your car. You’re frazzled and you’re afraid it shows when you get into the front seat next to Billie with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry about that, I’m ready now.”

Billie just shakes her head before shooting you a look that you don’t notice. You’re looking out the front of the car, specifically at your apartment building.

“What did I say about apologizing, Y/N?”

You sigh before cringing at your mistake as you try to calm down. You need to relax. It’s not like he’s going to attack you in broad daylight. You weren’t even sure it was him.

“So—Right. Thank you for helping me, Billie.”

Billie spends most of the drive home wondering what had happened. She had realized pretty quickly that you were anxious about going back to your apartment. She wasn’t exactly sure why until you wanted to keep Milo with you to check the mail. It seemed odd and as she was sitting in the car thinking about it, it hit her. She hadn’t even realized that you were worried about running into Doug again. How could she forget that this was the first time being at your apartment since it happened? She mentally kicks herself as she follows you into the house. She watches as you let Milo run free and stumble slightly as you try to take off your shoes.

“Are you alright?”

You hold back a sigh as you lean against the wall to keep yourself steady as you take off your other shoe. You turn to Billie with a frown. You had been feeling worse since you started worrying and now your head was practically pounding.

“My headache just got worse. It’s not a big deal, I just need to lie down.”

Billie frowns as she watches you head over to the couch absentmindedly dropping your bag on the way. She looks to the clock, realizing it’s too early for your next dose of medication. She still goes to get you water though before coming to sit beside you.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

You smile at Billie before shaking your head at her. There really isn’t anything else that she could do, but you do need to sleep. You lean forward and rest your head against her shoulder and she pulls you into a hug before you close your eyes with another sigh.

“Can I just sit here with you for a second?”

Billie smiles before pulling you closer with a nod. She almost starts to run her hand through your hair, but she figures that will make your headache worse. Instead, she merely sighs and shifts slightly so you’re both leaning against the couch. Billie listens to your breathing even out as you relax against her as the minutes pass. You’re almost completely on top of Billie by the time you fall asleep only ten minutes later.

You wake up around dinner time. You’re sure of this because it’s the sound of Milo scarfing down his food that rouses you from your sleep. You groan and sit up as you look around to see Milo’s tail sticking out from behind the counter. You take a second to sit and get acclimated to being up before you risk standing. You stop short; however, when you see the glass of water and the bottles on the table in front of you. You sigh before opening them and taking your pills before heading to the kitchen.

You find Billie standing at the counter watching Milo as he demolishes his food. You only look for a moment to see how much is left before giving up. You’re sure that Billie fed him the right amount, and if not, you don’t really care. You spoil your dog all the time.

“Did he wake you?”

You shake your head despite the fact that Milo had woken you up, but you ignore this fact since you have a better excuse. You smile as you meet Billie for a hug before stifling a yawn.

“No, I was just hungry. Have you eaten yet?”

Billie shakes her head as she places a kiss on your brow before checking the clock. You’d been asleep for about two hours and Billie was going to wake you up after walking Milo. She says this and you smile appreciatively before saying that you’ll go with her. Billie doesn’t say anything in response to this, instead she changes the subject.

“Are you feeling any better?”

You nod as you mention that you are and that you’d taken your meds. You look to Milo who is now finished eating and standing at your side watching you and Billie intently.

“I am thanks. I think I just got a stress headache from worrying so much.”

You pull away from Billie slightly as you say this, but you don’t move too far before you’re speaking again. You spare Milo a glance and scratch his head with a smile.

“I guess I was a little nervous about running into Doug again. I didn’t think-.”

You pause as you try to figure out what you were going to say. You didn’t think that you wouldn’t consider what happened when you went to your apartment? That you wouldn’t be worried about seeing Doug and potentially getting hurt again? It seemed silly to say, but you had told yourself when you’d decided not to go to the police, that you’d handle it. That it would all be fine.

You suppose you haven’t really learned much since your dad died.

“Didn’t think what, Y/N?”

You didn’t realize how long you’d spaced out until Billie asks this. You turn back to her before shaking your head with an apology on the tip of your tongue. You stop short as something you haven’t heard in months comes to mind, and you hate yourself for cringing at the mere thought of her voice.

Don’t you dare apologize.

Billie feels you stiffen and move away from her, and she watches as your expression turns dark. She isn’t sure where your mind just went, but she doesn’t get a chance to ask before you’re speaking in a tone that betrays your calm demeanor.

“I didn’t really consider it, but it was fine. We didn’t see him.”

Billie didn’t get a chance to respond to this before you turn to Milo and tell him to go grab his leash. She expects you to just run off with him, but you stop after a couple of steps before sighing in defeat. You turn back to Billie before shooting her a guilty look. You don’t apologize but you do promise to talk about this later. You just need to calm down a little.

“I’ll tell you Billie, I just need a minute.”

Part 17

#american horror story #ahs #ahs fic #ahs imagine #ahs murder house #my fic #billie dean howard x reader #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard #a little bit

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dreadpoetssociety · 4 years

Text

Hi, Mom!

TW: Abuse

Request: could you write spencer x sister and it’s when he brings his mom back home with him and it’s just pretty much about that. also how diana hits reid once maybe she hits the sister too or instead?? love your work!!

Note: PLEASE read this. I do not know much about schizophrenia and such, and I am in no way saying that anyone with the conditions that this character has in the show is always like this or anything. I just based it off the show (where this has happened before with Diana Reid) and this request, and tried my best not to stigmatize her condition. Also, I’m sorry I’m taking so long on these requests, I’m kinda having a hard time right now, but I’m trying my best!! I hope you enjoy!!!

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Sister!Reader

It wasn’t very often that you would go with Spencer to visit your mother. As awful as you knew that was, you just couldn’t handle it. Watching her sit there, not know where she is sometimes, who she is sometimes, so many other things, just tore you apart. Having to see her be afraid of things that weren’t really there that you could never truly comprehend enough to help her, combined with her recent diagnosis of early onset Dementia. But mostly, you afraid of experiencing what it would be like for your own mother to forget her own daughter, or at least recognize the difference between her and a hallucination. Granted, you did understand that seeing her less and less would probably make that situation more likely to happen, but you just could never bring yourself to do it. Visiting her just reminded you constantly that you were very literally watching someone fade away, but not seeing her made you scared that you might miss some chances with your mother that you could have experienced with her irregardless of her condition. There were always times here and there where she wasn’t having an episode, and for a short while she was either able to control or differentiate or however it was that it worked and you were able to make some nice memories, but there were also times where this wasn’t the case. It wasn’t at all that she scared you in any way, because so many people see paranoid schizophrenia and automatically think the worst, it was just that it hurt to see her struggle and know you could only do so much to help. But of course, her condition didn’t just effect her in a way that she just saw things like so many people just seem to believe, it effected her behavior, her way of organizing her thoughts, and so much more. It was deeper than just that.

After a very long, and very heart breaking conversation with your brother, you agreed that it would benefit the both of you to maybe have your mother come visit for a few days anyway. She could get some new scenery for a few days and you could both spend the time with her and help her if need be. So when Spencer finally walked through the door with your mother holding his arm, you actually felt relieved. There she was, smiling at you.

“Oh, Y/N, how good it is to see you.” Diana greeted. You physically felt a weight lifted off your chest. All this worry all this time and everything was okay, relatively.

“Hi, Mom!” you said excitedly, hugging her. She smiled and put an arm around your back. You both had let go after a few seconds and Reid showed your mother to the couch.

“Y/N, could you just grab the bag I left at the door for me, please?” Spencer asked. You walked over to the door and picked up a hunter green bag, and peeking inside of it you noticed all the meds and necessary things your mother would need. Your smile faded for a moment, but you placed the bag on the table next to the door. You walked back towards the couches that faced each other and sat on the one opposite of your mother.

“What have you been up to, Mom?” you asked, trying to strike up conversation.

“Oh you know.” she replied, “I want to hear about you! How’s my baby been?” you and Spencer looked at each other for a moment, remembering your little run in with an unsub a few months ago that left you with night terrors and panic attacks and so on, but you very quickly decided that wasn’t something she really needed to know about yet.

“Good.” you replied, “Boring, I guess. Going to work, just got out of school. Typical teenage things.” you chuckled, fakely, of course.

“That’s great, honey. Where are you working?” Diana asked.

“I work at the restaurant nearby, and at the grocery store.”

“You have two jobs?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to save up for a car, and college, I guess.” you said.

“And overworking yourself while you’re at it.” Spencer chimed in.

“Not really, I enjoy working.”

“Well, just make sure to not stress yourself out too much.” your mother smiled.

You talked for a while longer, catching up, and a few hours later your mother was sound asleep. You and Spencer were in the kitchen area making dinner for the three of you together.

“Not so bad, right?” he asked you with a smile.

“Yeah. I was just anxious, I guess.”

“I understand,” he replied, “I hope you feel better about it now. Mom talks about wanting to see you all the time, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I should apologize to her. It’s just sad to know she’s suffering sometimes.” you sighed, “But that’s what we’re here for right? She took care of us for so long despite her issues, so it’s only cool of us to return the favor.”

“Right.” Spence grinned and patted your head, “Dinner is almost ready, why don’t you get her up and ask if she wants to eat with us.”

“Alright.”

You took off your cooking apron and folded it, then placed it into one of the drawers beneath the countertop. You turned the faucet on real quick, with warm water, and washed any food off your hands. You dried them off and headed towards the couch where Diana was sleeping. You put a hand on her shoulder and very gently move her shoulder.

“Hey, Mom, wake up. Are you hungry?” her eyes opened, and suddenly widened.

“Who are you?” she yelled, which quickly grabbed Spencer’s attention, and he realized then that having you do that was a mistake, and he should’ve handled your mother instead.

“Mom, it’s your daughter, Y/N.” you said, anxiously hoping she’d remember.

“You’re not my daughter.” she cried out.

“Y/N-“ Spencer began, but was quickly cut off by an unexpected sound. You felt your cheek start to sting. You froze for a second before slowly standing up straight and backing up, with tears having started to well up in your eyes. You put your hand on the area where your own mother had just hit you. You knew full heartedly that it wasn’t her fault, and you didn’t blame her at all, and she just didn’t recognize you and thought she was in danger, but still. This was the exact thing you were worried about. Your mother was still upset, and Spencer went to her first, understandably. You just stood there in shock.

“Mom, Mom, it’s Spencer, you’re okay.” you heard in the background, and heard the sigh of relief from Diana as she saw him.

“Thank God, that girl was trying to say she was my daughter. I think she was trying to hurt me.” and from there, you blocked everything out, and just headed towards your room. You decided you weren’t hungry, and just laid in your bed, facing the wall. And you just laid there. You weren’t sure for how long.

Spencer eventually knocked at your door, to which you just ignored, but he came in anyway.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked.

“She hit me, Spence. She didn’t even know who I was.” you whispered. He sighed to himself and sat at the end of your bed.

“Y/N, I know it’s hard. She’s done it to me, too.”

“She has?” you turned your body around to face him, “Why didn’t you say anything.”

“I try not to think much about it. Y/N, these things can happen sometimes. But you have to know that Mom doesn’t mean it. She can’t help it.” he explained, “This isn’t all the time, though. You know that. We’ve talked about stigmas revolving around this before.”

“I know it’s not her fault. I know it doesn’t happen all the time or with everyone, but it still sucks. It’s not even the fact that she hit me, just that she didn’t recognize me.” you cried. He hugged you tightly for a moment.

“I know.” was all he said to you. You knew that this didn’t happen for everyone, and that it did for select few, and on occasion your mother just had bad days, but you loved her. She was your mother. After sitting with Spencer for a while, you composed yourself, and felt better about what had happened. You walked back out of your room to see Diana at the dinner table, smiling.

“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat with us?” she asked. You nodded and sat down next to her, and her smile faded, “Why’s your cheek all red, did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened.” you smiled. You figured it was best for now not to tell her about it, “Let’s eat.”

Diana was mostly alright for the rest of her visit, and you had an amazing time with her. You decided from then on that you would visit her more regularly, and that even hough what you had initially been afraid of happened, that you wouldn’t just think the worst like so many other people do. You knew in your heart that she loved you and Spencer, and you knew that it wasn’t an all-time thing, and hell, maybe it would never even happen again. You hugged her as she left.

“I’ll see you soon, Mom.” you smiled.

“I hope so, my baby.” she put a hand on your face, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x sister reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #diana reid

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destiniesfic · 3 years

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132 Hours, Chapter 9

“Don’t kill Cardan.”

The Bomb cocks her head to the side. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I… don’t.”

Read chapter 9 on AO3, or read below:

The Bomb returns sometime later with a liter bottle of spring water and Tylenol. “Prescription strength,” she tells me, dispensing two pills into my open palm. “Good stuff.”

“Whose prescription?” I croak, sitting up. It feels like every ounce of liquid in me is squeezing itself out as sweat or something else. Masturbating only helps so much—the only thing that abates the worst heat symptoms is mating with an alpha. And since that’s not happening, it’ll just have to run its course.

Oblivious to my true suffering, she winks at me.

I throw the Tylenol back and wash them down with a swallow of cool water, then keep drinking. My mouth has grown so dry. But I wrench the bottle away from my mouth and say “Leave it” when the Bomb moves to take the pills back.

She gives me a look. “I’ll be back to give you more later, but I’m not leaving this with you. For all I know, you’d shut down your liver to make us take you to the hospital.”

I blink at her, wretchedly aware of the heat of my skin where my eyelids press together. I hadn’t even thought of that.

“Crap,” she says, fumbling in the plastic bag. “I should have taken your temperature first. Hold on, maybe we can still get it before the meds kick in.” She clicks her tongue. “Chemistry I like fine, drugs, sure—but nursing isn’t my area.”

“What is your area?” I ask. I don’t really feel like talking to anyone, but my curiosity is strong enough that I push through it. Anything to learn more about the people who’ve taken us.

The Bomb holds up her prize, a thermometer still in its plastic packaging, and grins at me. “I like blowing stuff up. I dabble in hacking. Basically, if there’s a wall, I want to bring it down.”

I shift in my blankets. It’s an endearing answer, but I worry that any positive feelings toward our kidnappers is budding Stockholm Syndrome. “This must be a boring job for you.”

“It was supposed to be, yeah.” She wrestles the thermometer out of the plastic and hands it to me. “You have a way of keeping things interesting. And Cardan’s a riot. I hope we don’t have to kill him.”

The beep of the thermometer turning on immediately after that statement makes me jump. “You said you wouldn’t,” I protest. “You said you’d take care of us.”

“I know. Our employer’s anxious about how much you’ve both seen and heard. But we can’t kill you, so there isn’t much of a point to getting rid of him. And between you and me, the Roach is very fond of him.”

“So—”

“Stick that thing in your mouth,” she says. “We don’t have all day.”

I glare but stick the cold tip of the thermometer under my tongue and wait for it to start beeping again.

The Bomb leans over, reading the lit-up display—red, already a bad sign. “One hundred point nine,” she announces. “No wonder you’re miserable.”

“No real danger though,” I sigh, pulling it out of my mouth and giving it a little shake. Would they really take me to the hospital if my condition deteriorated? Maybe I should consider trying to dehydrate myself. That’s the real danger of going through heat without a partner. I could do it, I think. “Forget” to drink, drive the fever higher. But our current circumstances are already precarious, and there are a million ways this might end badly for me. The headache is pulsing stronger over my left eye already, and the last thing I need is a full-blown migraine. I take a sip of water and silently will the Tylenol to kick in faster.

“We’ll keep an eye on you,” she affirms.

I wipe my hand on the back of my mouth, already feeling a little more like a person instead of a sweaty blob of hormones. “Don’t kill Cardan.”

The Bomb cocks her head to the side. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I… don’t.” I cap the bottle, looking down at my hands. My cheeks are hot again, which at least means some blood in my body has decided to circulate instead of pooling in my groin. “But I don’t think he deserves to die. He didn’t do anything.”

“Hmm,” says the Bomb, mulling it over.

I jerk my head up, but she’s smiling at me. Teasing. I flush again. “I’m just saying. I don’t see you guys as killers, anyway.”

Her voice has a dangerous edge to it when she asks, “You don’t?”

I shake my head to clear it. I may be sick, but I can’t allow myself to forget where I am and who I am with. The Ghost shot me already, and it’s easier than I’d like to imagine the Roach’s twisted features contorting further as he plunges a knife into someone’s back. “Maybe just you?” I offer.

“Well, you’re not far off. Murder is a messy business. I prefer to set the charges and wait at a safe distance. But we all do what we have to.” She shifts, and I must look worried, because she adds, “He’s probably going to be fine.”

“Probably,” I echo, and then sigh. “His family’s even more messed up than mine.”

“Well, your dad is Madoc.”

“My parents are dead,” I say.

“Oh,” says the Bomb. But no apology, no condolences. I kind of appreciate that. I learned a long time ago that no amount of apologies would bring my mom and dad back.

“And my sister—never mind.” I shake my head. I really must be addled if I’m spilling my guts to a stranger. Is this Stockholm Syndrome? Is this how it starts? “At least she’s not trying to kill me.”

“It’s another level of family drama,” she agrees. “The Kardashians have nothing on the Greenbriars.”

I try to work out why I feel comfortable around the Bomb. I think her frankness reminds me a bit of Vivi. She never bought into the pretensions of our new life—she wanted out as soon as she was in. And she talks about it like she really is outside of it. The Bomb is like that. She says what she means. She isn’t bowled over by anything.

“How can you do it?” I ask. “How can you do this kind of work for them? Is it really just the money?”

The Bomb blinks at me, her eyes large and luminous in the dark. Her brows draw together, and she looks past me. I seem to have struck a nerve, and for a moment I think she isn’t going to answer my question. Then, at last, she says, “It isn’t just that. The Roach and I—we owe them a lot. I think if… we might not be alive now, if not for what they did.”

“That’s worth kidnapping for? Maybe killing for?”

She looks back down at me. “I know you’ve had shit happen, Jude. I’m not interested in a competition there. But I think Madoc’s kept you from a lot of bad stuff, given you options. Some of us aren’t so lucky.”

“I know that,” I protest. How many Designation Equality Club meetings had Taryn and I attended in our time? Vivi was president for a little while, I think to spite Madoc. “I know it’s not all mansions and parties. And you know, bad stuff can happen in parties and mansions too.”

“Sure. We are the bad stuff.” She flashes me a grin, then says, “Just think about what could have happened if Madoc hadn’t been there to catch you guys. Where you might have ended up. What you might have done to get out of it.”

My stomach twists. I have, of course, thought about that, but it’s an alternate universe that I can’t look directly at, like a solar eclipse. It’s easier to think about two branching possibilities: parents alive, or parents dead with Madoc intervention. Thinking about Madoc never showing, about Taryn and Vivi and I getting put in foster care, maybe separated… it’s so dim and distant.

“I’m not interested in a competition either,” I tell her. “I mean, I am judging you a little for kidnapping us. I will judge you harder if you kill Cardan.”

“No one’s going to kill Cardan,” the Bomb says, patting my shoulder. “You should lie back down. I’m surprised you’ve been upright this long.”

I scowl, but my head is already beginning to feel swimmy, so I settle back into my blankets. “I’m really stubborn.”

“I got that.” The Bomb gathers up her things, but leaves the water bottle within reach. I am grateful.

Just before she can put her hand on the doorknob, I call softly, “If you kill Cardan, I’ll kill you.”

She looks back over her shoulder at me, looking oddly fond. Maybe a gang of kidnappers and thieves respects threats. “Yeah,” she says. “I got that one, too.”

---

Cardan somehow manages to con his way into spending a lot of time outside of the cell. I am not sure how long, because I am curled up toward the wall and barely notice the light from the window wax and wane. But as the day passes his scent starts to go stale and sour, and I pick my head up every time someone opens the door.

It’s always the Bomb, returning to give me more Tylenol or hand me fresh fruit—not fast food, therefore a luxury. It occurs to me then that they kept buying us stuff from a drive-thru or grocery store because they didn’t think they would have us for long and didn’t bother stocking up. But someone must have thought to buy one a bag of mandarins this time, because I am given a couple to nibble on after each dose.

“Boosts the immune system,” the Bomb says when she drops off the first one. She seems in a good mood, probably because the medication has managed to wrestle my fever down to a balmy ninety-nine. Achy and hollow, I just give her a nod. My hands shake when I peel it, but I can peel it, and I’m grateful for that. I have been so humiliated already, and I can probably take more, but I don’t want to.

I slip into a weird daze for the second half of the day. Even though the fever is gone and my cramps are easier to bear, I find myself cursing Cardan’s name. I am pretty sure his presence made my heat worse—just the presence of an alpha, a desirable one, has convinced my body that there’s a chance I might mate, so it’s punishing me worse for abstaining. The longer he’s gone, the more clearheaded I feel, to the extent that my head can clear. And I am angry, at him for intensifying my misery, and at myself, for being like this in the first place.

By the time he returns, any trace of sunlight is gone. He walks slowly, shuffling behind the Bomb. Even as she talks to me and I nod along, sticking the thermometer in my mouth, my eyes track his progress as he settles in his corner.

His hair is damp, his scent shot through with the floral soap from the bathroom. He showered before coming in. I am unreasonably jealous of him. My hair is plastered to the back of my neck with sweat, and my thighs are basically stuck together with dried—anyway, I haven’t left the room all day, not even to pee. I feel like a damp towel someone wrung out and left to dry over the side of a sink.

After I’ve taken the Tylenol, the Bomb hands me a paper napkin with two more pills folded in it. “In case you wake up in the middle of the night,” she explains.

“It’s night?” I ask.

“We sleep in shifts. If there’s an emergency, have Cardan pound on the door.”

“Why me?” Cardan asks. He’s assumed his usual posture, with his leg propped up and his arm balanced casually on his knee. I wonder if the Bomb notices the rigidity in his shoulders, the tension in the line of his mouth. I do.

“I don’t think Jude’s going anywhere anytime soon.”

I sniff derisively, which is a bad move, because I get a fresh whiff of Cardan and am forced to bury my face in my pillow to smother a whimper.

“Point taken,” Cardan says. “Night. Thanks…” I imagine the rest of his sentence curling up and dying at the novelty of him thanking anybody for anything, but he manages to continue. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

The Bomb dusts off her knees as she stands up. “No problem. If she dies, we’re extraordinarily screwed.”

“I know. Still.”

She nods, then leaves. This time, I hear her lock the door behind her. Cardan and I are once again stuck together, alone.

I turn over and curl toward the wall again so I don’t stare. It’s not like heat gives you night vision, but for a couple of seconds he seemed to be a crisp outline in the near darkness of our cell. I don’t want to be tempted. I don’t.

“How, uh.” Cardan clears his throat and tries again, awkwardly. “How was your day?”

“Sucked,” I mutter.

“Yeah.”

“Yours?”

“Sucked less, probably.” He pauses. “But still sucked. I, um, I wanted to check on you.”

“It’s okay.” I shift my head. There’s a twinge in my abdomen, but at least it’s not another full cramp. “Did you learn any neat card tricks?”

“Yeah, actually. The Roach says I’m a fast learner.”

“High praise from a career criminal.”

Cardan chuckles, and my heart jumps. I made him laugh. I don’t know why that affects me the way it does. It must be the heat, another weird side effect. “I should’ve brought the deck in. To show you.”

“If we get through this, you can show me another time.”

“Oh yeah?” I can tell he cracks a smile just by the way his voice picks up. “You’re still gonna want to hang out when we’re out of here?”

I press my lips together to keep from echoing a smile. “I don’t know,” I say to the wall. “Maybe I’ll be too busy with my cool new friends from college to make time for you. And maybe you’ll be too busy hanging out with the Roach. Although that’s honestly an upgrade from your normal crowd.”

“Ouch.”

“He’s not a douchebag alpha,” I point out.

“I don’t know what he is.” I can picture Cardan shaking his head. “I sat next to him for most of the day and I still don’t have a clue. He sounds like an alpha, but he doesn’t really look like one. He doesn’t smell like anything. He and the Bomb seem to have some kind of communication going, but I don’t know if that means they’re mated, or… just close, I guess.”

“I think the Bomb’s an omega,” I say. “Like me. We kind of had a moment earlier.” I screw up my face in thought. “It bothers me that I still can’t get a clear read on her scent, though. Especially now. That’s weird. What do they have to hide?”

“Maybe they’re all betas,” Cardan suggests. “They don’t give off the same pheromones we do.”

I snort. “That’s not possible.”

“Betas exist.”

“Yeah. They’re one in a thousand. The odds that there would be three in one place...”

“Impossibly low, yeah. You’re right.” He sighs. “Well, we’ve seen their faces, but maybe they don’t want to leave scent markers around so they can be tracked that way. That seems like a smart crime thing… to do.”

My lips twitch again. “A ‘smart crime thing?’”

“Oh, like you could do better.”

I snicker, but then the cell falls quiet. We have officially exhausted every subject that will keep us from facing our circumstances, and we know it.

“So,” Cardan says, “now what?”

I don’t know. I cannot imagine spending the night in this cell with him, like this. But I am supposed to be the one with the plans.” “Um, I guess we try to sleep.”

“Right, right. Will it hurt your foot if I take the pillow under it? I’d ask to borrow a blanket, but…”

“No, I get it,” I rush. The blankets are in no condition to be lent, but I’ve left him without any bedding and anywhere to sleep. “Definitely take the pillow.”

There is silence, in which I can imagine him nodding, then the rustle of his clothes as he crawls over to take the pillow propped up under my leg. His hand skims my foot, and it’s like an electric current zings up my body. I hold my breath, waiting for something else to happen, but I just hear him move back to his corner.

“Do you want, um, my sweatshirt?” I offer.

He scoffs, “I don’t think it’ll fit, Duarte.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re such an asshole. To keep your arms warm, because you don’t have a blanket.”

There’s a longer pause than the situation calls for, and then he says, “Yeah, toss it over.”

I make myself sit up so I can unzip it, then ball it up and fling it toward him as hard as I can. I am not feeling very strong, but the room is short, so it lands at his feet anyway. He picks it up and buries his face in it.

“Oh, you pervert,” I scold, even as my stomach does a flip. I am surprised to find I’m not mad. I’m not even annoyed. What had I thought was going to happen when I threw it over to him? It’s saturated with my pheromones.

And my scent. Which he’s supposed to hate.

“I just,” he says, taking another sniff. There’s a fuzzy edge to his voice. “I thought it would help. Since we can’t—I don’t know, I just thought it would help.”

I force myself to lie back down and turn around and not watch, even though I am unbearably curious. My face is hot, and heat gathers between my thighs again. It’s just the pheromones. It’s just the circumstances. If my mind were less addled, maybe I could make more sense of all this, but I cannot.

A minute or so later I hear him shift again. “Yeah, it’s a good blanket,” he says. “Thank you, Jude.”

“Sure.”

Then all is silent again, and I think he has fallen asleep. It seems impossible that he could. I am so weary, but my arousal is skewering me like a hot spike, and I keep listening for him on the other side of the room. There’s no way I can seek relief with him here, and no way I can sleep like this.

“Cardan,” I say, breathily. “Are you awake?”

He whispers back, “Yeah.”

I shift. It’s like parts of my body flare to life at just the sound of his voice. “What do you think would happen if you came over here?”

“You don’t—want that, right?”

I don’t know what I want. I think I am closer to wanting him—to wanting at all—and then the memory of Valerian using his knee to try and wedge my thighs apart comes back. I pull the blankets tighter around me. “This sucks so much.”

“Yeah.”

“Less for you, right?”

“You think so?”

“I don’t know. Aren’t you flooded with adrenaline or whatever it is that theoretically enables you to keep thrusting for days on end?”

Cardan chuckles. “Wow. You must really be far gone if you’re willing to put me and ‘thrusting’ in the same sentence.”

My cheeks warm. “I meant ‘you’ as in ‘alphas.’ Don’t be dumb. And aren’t you used to this?”

“From—oh. The O?”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, that’s different. They alter it somehow, on a chemical level. All of the euphoria and adrenaline, none of the, uh… the aches or the erections lasting longer than four hours. You know, stuff you want to avoid if you’re not in rut for real.”

“Right, makes sense.” I hesitate. “So, you are? I couldn’t tell.”

“What?” He sounds incredulous. “Yeah, yes, I am. Of course I am. There’s like no space between us and no ventilation. It would be impossible for me not to be.”

“Alright, alright.” I squeeze my pillow a little tighter. “You just seem so…”

“So…?”

“Clear,” I finish. “And calm. Calmer than this morning, at least.”

Cardan is quiet for a second before he asks, “Remember this morning, you asked if I was afraid of you?”

My heart thumps. “Yeah?”

“I’m not. I’m afraid of me. I’m afraid of… of...” He grasps for words. “I’m afraid of all the stuff I want to do. Because I’m coming to a realization that’s very painful and you can’t laugh, but I am, and it’s, it’s important—I don’t want to be like Valerian. Or like my brothers. Or even like Locke. I want to be different. I don’t know if there is a different, but I want to be it.”

I am so bewildered that I don’t reply. For as long as I have known Cardan, he’s never been anything other than a bully, a terror, delighting in other people’s suffering, reigning from the top of the food chain. He always seemed to enjoy being an alpha, relish it. I can’t make heads or tails of what he’s telling me now.

Is he saying he doesn’t want to hurt me? He’s never cared before.

But I think about him tucking the blankets around me, gingerly propping my foot up on the pillow this morning, and I wonder.

“It wouldn’t be like Valerian,” I whisper, but he must have fallen asleep, because he says nothing.

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jurdan fanfic #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #tfota #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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insufferablelust · 4 years

Text

THE ARTIST AND HIS MUSE (v)

Hi lovely people! it’s me again with the fifth installment of TAAHM, hopefully y’all enjoy this, as always thank you for your support, and excuse the grammatical errors. As i said before, this story is dark themed, so it can get triggering to some people, please read the warning, and read at your own risk.

WARNINGS : BEWARE DARK FIC. SMUT, Angst to the max, Mental Illness (PTSD, with severe anxiety and depression), Some Fluff, hints/mention of Suicide (doesn’t happen), Psychological abuse (in flashbacks), over sensitivity (both sexual and non sexual), hints of Masochism, Anxiety attack, Soft raw tender moments, aaand thats it.

———————

A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.To him a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. —Pearl S. Buck.

———🍃———

Little did they know, that night is going to be the beginning of a roller coaster ride.

———//———

It was already late when she opened her eyes the next day, her soft sigh occupied the quiet room as she scanned for the one person she craved the most, biting her lips at the cold left side of the bed sheet. However, he’s kind enough to leave the only thing she could reminisce about last night in a form of a long letter note he left on her night table, written with purple ink,

“Good Morning Y/N,

I hope you’re feeling well, although knowing how anxious you can get, i know your mind would wander off and we don’t want that. If you can remember what i said, then good but if you can’t, i said that i left because it’s more convenient for the both of us, not because i don’t want to be with you. Believe me, watching you sleep right now really put an image inside my memory that i’ll never forget, you’re so beautiful.

I hope you don’t mind, but i put on Debussy on your vinyl right now. I want you to know that we’ll still talk about it, preferably today, maybe we can go have dinner unless we have a case. There are things i never got the chance to say, and i think its time i finally tell you, later.

As for your past, we’ll also talk about that too. But i want you to not worry— yes i’m disappointed still, but i know why you did what you did. We’ll figure out a way.

Lastly, please take care.

Spencer R.”

By the time she had finished reading, her internal being is overflowing with emotions, dangerous ones that she won’t be able to control and she knows this. Her eyes teared up at the sight of ‘Classical Lover Etiquettes’ cued up on her record player. Her legs were incredibly sore, as much as her thighs and arms. There was just so much that’s happening, so much to feel, and she needed to escape.

Her feet dragged her to the balcony, inhaling the scent of life, breathe in heavily as she hoped— cross her fingers hoping to die that the amount of oxygen would be able to drown her from all the confusion, even more so the horrors that started to flows back in. Spencer opened a large deep wound that she had buried a long time ago, and then he showed her the way to paradise. He confuses her as much as she probably confuses him.

She wanted to apologize for being complicated, wanted to get on her knees again and show him how much she needs a savior right now; someone to love, and cherish to get her mind off of the horrible things in the past. She wants him to know that he can help her, by guiding her like he did the night before, by owning her like he said the night before, by loving her like he promised. She needs to be devoted to him, she would do anything for him.

She knows how damaged she is on the inside, she put up a persona every day so people could believe that she’s alive. But the only time she ever felt alive was with Spencer. The only time she ever wished she’s not complicated is when she’s with Spencer, His name consumed her like the opiates she used to take. He owned her soul already and she’s not letting that go. Even if the world stands in her way. She deserves this, this pure thing for once.

So she cried, hard. Hard enough for her neighbors to hear, to check up on her, but she wasn’t listening, she stayed crouched down in her balcony, her vision was blurry and she can’t think of anything— only Spencer.

“Spencer..” was the only thing she remembered saying before she witnessed darkness and drowsiness penetrate her eyes as well as her other senses— sending her to sleep.

———————————

Y/N didn’t even flinched when her father’s screams once again filled her ears, telling her how she doesn’t belong, she isn’t supposed to be here, isn’t supposed to exists. She could smell the strong scent of alcohol from his mouth, clouding her senses, but she refused to give in and cry, in fact she doesn’t feel a thing. Moreover, she’s just bored, her father never got violent with her, never laid a hand on her, neither does her step mother— well not when he’s around anyways.

By the age of 9, Y/N already knew what kind of man her father was, the kind that doesn’t want to admit reality, he’s a violent genius who works in the dark, with barriers covering all sides of his life. He never hurt Y/N physically, like he always claimed. But 12 years of psychological torture will fuck you up, she thought. She lived in isolation, and darkness where the only things she knew.. were alcohol, math, abuse, impending death, and screams.

She doesn’t have anyone related that’s nice to her, enough to shield her from all the abuse. The only person that could bring her peace is Mr. Bones, one of her father’s men. He always looked out for her, he gave her hope ever since she was old enough to know that being told you were never meant to be alive was not okay.

“I apologize, papa. It won’t happen again, I swear it.”

Her eyes stayed on the ground as she feels the warmth of his palm so close to her cheek, she yelled in her mind— her mind telling her to scream at the old bastard to “Hit me!”

“Hit me!”

“Make it hurt!”

“HIT ME!”

——

Y/N felt a jolt, her eyes searching for signs of where she might be but she can’t seem to open her eyes, the smell— is clean like iodine, the next thing she felt was the rough yet strangely comfortable sheets that grazes against her skin, And then she heard the talk, someone’s talking.. She recognized the voice well, so well like its imprinted deep in her soul, She tried to open her eyes.. yet she keeps on missing.

“S-she— i found her pale.. she was so pale and cold.. “ Spencer! her mind screamed, that’s Spencer.

“Spencer!” She tried to yell, but still nothing,

“Spencer please!” Nothing.

“What did her neighbor said?” Hotch!

“Hotch please i’m awake!”

“She was screaming, and they found her clutching her shirt tightly, she was crying and she.. she said my name over and over again, before blacking out.. thats why they called me first after calling 911” Is that true? she has been taking her meds, hasn’t she?

“Did anyone said that she was about to jump or anything like that?”

“No! No! Spencer i’m not suicidal!”

“N-no i don’t know.. Hotch i was with her last night, i should’ve—“

“Please don’t cry! please i’m sorry i love you i won’t do it again!”

“Hey no, she looked like she was having a panic attack. Has she ever mentioned anything about being depressed? or experiencing anxiety attacks maybe?”

“no... no... don’t tell him Spencer, you promised.”

“Stop the silence, Spencer you promised you won’t tell anyone.”

“N-no.. not that i know off.. she wanted company so i stayed with her, we watched movie.”

“Spencer...” She tried again, believing that it won’t work, he won’t hear her, maybe she’s not even here anymore— just floating away from her body. But when she saw his head turned towards her, she sighed contently, letting go of all the burden for a second just to hear him mutter her name in silence and peace.

“Y/N... you’re awake wait let me—“ before he could exit the door, Hotch pulled him back a little, telling him that “It’s okay, let me get the doctor.” Leaving Spencer and her alone.

Her heart rate accelerated as he sat down on the chair next to her, eyes filled with worry and fear— Y/N couldn’t take it, couldn’t bare to see how broken he looks, because she was selfish and complicated, because she was damaged.

“I-i wasn’t... trying to.. jump” Her voice came out laced with fragility, all raw and quiet. She’s trying to tell Spencer that she’s alright, as long as he’s here she’ll be alright. “Don’t.. please don’t blame yourself, it was an anxiety attack, a bad one.”

“Have you been taking your meds?” There it is, the question she has been hoping she wouldn’t have to answer. She looked down at his trembling hands, reaching to grab it but unable to do so because she realized now that she was restrained to the bed.

“Why am i being restrained?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No Spencer i haven’t! now why am i restrained? i’m not a danger to anyone.” Y/N half yelled with a cracked voice, closing her eyes tightly at the tears that’s threatening to spill out of her eyes.

“Miss Bones, i see that you’re awake now.” Her eyes never leaving the sight of her cuffed wrist, ‘did they honestly thought you were planning on killing yourself?’

“I’m not suicidal, i’m an FBI agent for god’s sake.” The tone of her newfound voice surprised everyone including Spencer.

“Then why were you unconscious on the balcony of your apartment?”

“Because i haven’t been taking my pills! look, i haven’t for years now and i was fine. It was just rush of emotions, and i got overwhelmed okay? doesn’t mean i was going to jump. Believe me thats the last thing i would’ve wanted.” The last bit was a whisper, indicating the raw pain behind it. It was the truth, moments before you passed out you were thinking of Spencer, of how he’s your savior.

“Okay, Agent. We believe you, now why don’t you get some rest, and we’ll have you prescribed for something stronger, meanwhile i’m going to take the cuffs off” The doctor replied gently, except you know he’s not a doctor well he is but he’s a psychiatrist. Great, now everyone think she’s crazy.

——————

After the incident, you rarely talked to anyone on your team not because they don’t want to but because you won’t let them. You’ve caused enough pain, so the last thing you want to see is the pity on their eyes and face, it was nice seeing how they care though— sometimes in the mornings you can hear Garcia and JJ dropping new baskets full of goodies and treats for you to try. Sliding a note underneath your door before leaving.

Hotch insisted you to take a month break, which you would’ve tried to argued but you knew you didn’t stand a single chance. You could’ve lose your job, he could’ve fired you for lying about your psychological problems and endangering yourself but he didn’t, though he wanted you to take the break, and do another psych eval, so you agreed.

The bad thing about not going to work, except the obvious fact that you miss your work family and you missed out on catching men women alike your father and his killer— is not seeing Spencer often enough. It made you anxious just thinking how he’s doing constantly, Prentiss has said in a text that ‘he seems okay, just a little off’ in which you ended the conversation quickly, not wanting to let invasive questions spring up to life.

You’ve tried to contact him multiple times, yet he never answered the calls, there was one time where he had responded your text; it was the one after you told him that you haven’t eaten and taken your meds because thats what you do now, pretending like he actually listens you, that day you heard a knock, before finding out that there was a box of pizza; the tuna, with creamy mushroom kind, your favorite. Spencer is the only one who knew about it, so it was him. You cried that night knowing that he was close... yet you didn’t see him.

After that, nothing. Nothing at all, until it was your 17th day isolated in your apartment trying to get better. A therapist from FBI was supposed to come today, checking up on you, Hotch’s order. So when you heard a knock, you opened the door without looking.

“Y/N...”

“Hi you must be the— Spencer?” You eyes went wide as you recognized the person standing at your door, you swear your knees buckled finally seeing him again after so long. His hair seemed longer, his eyes has bags under them, he doesn’t look fine.

“Spencer, you look—“

“Can i come in?” His voice startled you, it was deep, deeper than you remembered it last.

“Yes, yes please come in..” You watched him enter your house, eyes scanning through every bit of everything, probably profiling your condition. So you let out a chuckle as you close the door, “I’m fine Spencer, unless you didn’t notice, i’m doing therapy 3 times a week plus routine visits from every therapist in town it seemed like. So i’m good” the tone of your voice reflects sarcasm and you know it, but how can you help it when he wont even look at you.

“Thats good..” He mumbled, sitting down on the couch where you two talked the last time about your past, you remembered that night’s event so clearly you could’ve sworn you have an eidetic memory. “You haven’t been sleeping have you?”

“no.” you sat down next to him, deciding that you shouldn’t touch him even if you wanted to.

“Why?”

“Because i worry about you.”

“Spencer, i told you i’m—“

“No! no you can’t say that you’re fine, again. do you know what you did me? after the night we had, you basically suffered an anxiety so bad you collapsed on your balcony, while whispering my name. You don’t get to say that you’re fine, i deserve more Y/N.”

You didn’t flinched even once when you heard his voice raised, if anything you just close your eyes and not let the volume of his voice get inside your head, “Everyone who yells is the same like your father, wake the fuck up” is what your mind been telling you but you refused to listen to it, Spencer is good, he’s a good man. So you controlled your breathing for a second before opening your eyes to see Spencer’s face begging for answers.

“You’re right, you deserve answers and you’ll get your answers but can you please listen to me and don’t interrupt? Spencer, i need the space if you want me to tell you, the space to make you understand.” Your palm move on top of his to see his reaction, you expected him to swat your hands away or at least flinched but strangely he let out a pleasant sigh, like he was relieved, like every weight has been lifted off of him.

“Okay, i’m sorry for—“

You cut him off before he could say what he’s sorry for, you don’t need it— his reactions are normal, too normal that it makes you fall in love with him over and over again. “Shh, don’t. You don’t have to explain, you don’t have to respond, just.. wait here, i’ll tell you everything okay..?”

With a nod you get from him, you stand up to make two chamomile teas, bringing it to where Spencer is sitting on the couch, then after you put on Gymnopédie on your record player, you sit down next to him. To your surprise, he leaned and laid his head on top of your thighs, curling up on the couch— which sent a smile to your face, you haven’t smiled for so long and of course Spencer Reid is the one who put your first smile since.. you don’t even remember when.

————

“It’s one of my favorite, I love the serenity of it.” You whispered, as your fingers ran through his soft hair. Relaxing your back against the couch and enjoying the tune of one of your favorite classical of all time. Spencer smiled at that, you swore the smile could lit your insides like nothing else.

“I’m a beethoven guy, but i guess Satie is alright..” He laughs, his laugh sounded like heaven, his smile and laugh makes you dizzy. This is the Spencer that makes your heart pound ten times faster, and the one that makes you lost for words each time, the one that you’ll love... too fast Y/N, too fast.

“Of course you are, it’s not hard to see..”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Spencer looked up at you, he looked so pure like this, like he was made to justify every wrong things that has been done, like he’s an angel that protects the earth from filth. He’s pure and tender, it takes all of your willpower to not lean down and kiss him.

“Oh yes, explanation.” You laughed awkwardly, eyes refusing to meet his. “Look at me, please” You shake your head at his demand, your eyes still trailing to where the record player is going.

“Look at me, Y/N.” You did, you looked. Under any other circumstances, the authoritative tone would instantly leave you dripping wet ready to submit to him. But this time, you only whimpered and nods.

“Good girl, now tell me” He cupped your cheeks, the gentle gesture sent you to oblivion.

“I don’t know where to start..”

“I heard the beginning is a great start.” His lips tugged into a wide smile, you heart warmed at the sight before you sigh, your fingers still curling and uncurling itself on his hair.

“I opened up to you that night, it’s something strange for me, i told you something that i swore i would never tell anyone, but i told you because.. because you were right, you are right Spencer. And i guess after that we took it to a whole new different level, i want to be able to do all the things with you and cross all boundaries but it’s something new to me, so that morning when i... woke up alone, it was scary, i felt so small and sad in such a big space. I was overwhelmed, by the thought of letting another person in, i don’t wanna take it slow but then again the transition won’t be easy for me.” Spencer opened his mouth as he was about to say something, but you simply leaned in shakily and press a quick peck on his lips as a sign that you’re not done yet, to your surprise he pulled you down one more time and let the kiss linger this time before letting you pull back, whispering a small “go on.”

“I lived in isolation most of my life, the only taste of real life emotions i ever got was the moment right after my graduation. The man who saved me, he teached me social skills, and the basics of.. of having this gift of rawness emotions. But i’ve been so closed off, i realized its just not possible for me to fall in love or feel such a strong emotion towards another, the only strong emotion i’ve ever known before this was.. hatred towards my father and his killer.

I had PTSD when i was 13, consistent with severe anxiety and depression, at one point Mr.Bones insisted that i...i started talking to myself, admitted me to a psychiatrist where i got my.. antipsychotics for um the voices. But i came out well, and he promised me that if i was able to make it, he would change my identity, stripped me out of my old misery, give me a new one, my father was a very very important man where he worked, so does his men including Mr.Bones. Thats why before i was 21, there’s no record of Y/N Bones existed because.. i didn’t, i never existed.”

Y/N ended it with a smile, looking down at Spencer whose eyes brimming with tears. She shook her head, her trembling fingers wiping the traces of tears. “Hey no no, please don’t cry, please it’s hurt to see you cry..” She whimpered.

“Spencer please say something..” Her eyes pleaded with her, as he sat up, before inching closer to her and before she even processed the warmth of his body, his lips pressed themselves against hers in a gentle loving way. His thumb stroking her soft supple cheek, as his lips took its time to explore every inch of hers, imprinting how it feels so he can remember it all the time. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck as he guided her to his lap, pulling back a little.

They stared at each other for such a long time, before Spencer move his hand downward— tugging on her shirt. “Do you want to?” His voice rise your goosebumps to wake, all the adrenaline rushing through your core as you nod eagerly. “Please”

——————

“Tchaikovsky.”

“what?”

“This is tchaikovsky.” Spencer looked up at her, seeing how needy but beautiful she is, her skin glistening under the dim lights, her lashes are wet, her eyes glassy, and her lips bitten raw. He smiled admiring her before continuing his exploration down her labia, stroking it gently— almost like he’s teasing her.

“yes Spencer this is, Oh god!” you stopped mid-sentence as you felt the warmth of his tongue exploring from her slit up to her clit, flicking the sensitive button gently— Holy mother! doesn’t he know how sensitive she is?

“I’m pretty sure Tchaikovsky isn’t god, Princess.” the doctor giggles as his fingers tracing her tummy gently, caressing every mark every curve every indent every scar so so gently to show her how much he appreciates her, appreciate her beauty— all of it.

“Shut up!” She whined and shuddered as she feels him burying his face against her sensitive pussy, tongue swiping side to side at her slit as his nose bumps against her clit sending intense pleasure throughout her body making her jolt and convulse as she tug on his hair.

“Are you sure that’s wise, princess? i’m the one in charge of your orgasm here” Her legs quivered, his tongue push inside her and explore every inch of her inside— moaning at the taste and catching every drop.

“Sorry! so sorry Spencer, just don’t stop!” Oh how sweet is that, her voice cracked at the end, meaning he’s doing a good job. And the boy wonder does seek for praises sometimes.

“Never planning on it, love.” He mumbled against her pussy before inserting two fingers in, and moving them in a brutal pace whilst her tongue and lips sucking on her clit.

“Oh! Spencer, you’re so good at this” Her eyes shut tightly, as her fingers gripping his hair— she’s practically grinding against his face which he moaned at the sight and taste of her, oh so heavenly.

“C’mon Princess, come for me then i will give you what you’ve been waiting for” oh the way she clenched around her fingers so tightly, made him groaned and shut his eyes tight as he works her over the orgasm

“Spencer! oh! thank you!” Every inch of her skin was burning and her brain was mush. So much pleasure, that she could die happily now. Her body shivers still, when he comes up to leave tiny kisses on her face. “Good girl.” Spencer then align himself at her entrance, sliding the tip up and down her pussy.

“Ready, princess?”

“Yes.. yes please?” With a smile on his face, Spencer bent Y/N’s knees before pushing the tip of his cock inside of her slowly, indulging in the velvety warm walls that welcomed his cock. The feeling is like home. Her mouth agape, as her eyes roll at the back of her head, and her fingers intertwined with his.

He stilled inside her for awhile as he let out grunts of how “so warm and tight, pet” she is. He then leaned down to press a gentle loving kiss on her lips before thrusting his cock in and out of her slowly, keeping the pace light as they both relinquish all the frustrations out, and indulging in each other’s warmth. It’s perfect.

“so— full, Spencer..” Her desperate whimpers was the one that egged him to move faster, thrusting his hips so every-time he thrusted in, the sounds were slapping of skins and their moans. But when one particular deep thrust, her cunt involuntary clenched around his cock and she screamed “Thats it! thats it fuck!”

Spencer grinned, before letting go of her hand to grip her waist, pulling her closer to him then continue to fuck her with a torturous brutal pace, hitting the spot over and over again. “I’m not going to last if you keep- fucking clenching that tight cunt Y/N” He warned, eyes glinting with a dangerous look like how he was that night. Feral.

Strings of plea left her mouth as she arched her back, he was so deep— filling her to the brim and making her feel good.

“Please cum inside me!”

“I will baby, i will. But first you gotta cum alright? can you do that? i know you can, c’mon” His breathing labored as he move even faster, her headboard banged against the wall, and her body bounced. With one final deep thrust, they reached their peak, and shuddered at the feeling. Spencer pulls out before grabbing a wet cloth from the beside table and carefully wiped her sensitive areas, causing goosebumps that were dying down to rise again.

“Swan lake” Was the first thing she muttered as her legs still quivering, Spencer looked up at her confusedly as he set throw the cloth to the dirty hamper and laid down beside her once more, cuddling her to his side.

“What?” he asked, his fingers running through her hair.

“Tchaikovsky’s, Swan lake was playing.” They both laughed at her answer, shaking their heads. It wasn’t until Y/N’s eyes flickered to his hazy ones, that they muttered it together,

“I love you—“

———————

TBC!

As always, TAGLIST is open, blurb requests are also open any genre of course, send them in along with suggestions and/or constructive criticisms! thank you. Just message me or send me an ask :) thank you for supporting. I’M SO SORRY FOR THE REUPLOAD, the TAGS DOESNT WORK TUMBLR IS MEAN TO ME AGAIN❤️

( @blancastans @spencerwaltergubler @slutforthegubes @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @babybloomer @liaabsurd @midnightsubmissives @addie5264 @maybankslut @secretpickleprofessordean )

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #dom!spencer #taahm #spencer reid blurbs #criminal minds smut

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lalistilltrying · 3 years

Text

So, I have fibromyalgia.

And I'm tired, yes. But I'm also tired of people with fibromyalgia. Because it sucks, yes. But it seems to me that they have been convinced that it doesn't get better. That is going to be like this the rest of their life.

I'm working on a real thin line here. No, it's not your fault, and no, I know that most of the time you're so flare up that you can't do anything. I understand. I'm like that too.

BUT, it DOES GET BETTER IF YOU PUT THE EFFORT. I swear, don't let anyone convince you otherwise. Don't let yourself convince you otherwise.

My story is like everyone else's : issues with competitive behavior from age 7, psychologist for a year. Tape A personality. Stomach problems anxiety related age 13. Bit of a breakdown age 15. But not Generalize Anxiety Disorder, not yet. Pain at 16, but still a happy go lucky girl. Tried college, first failed exam. First metal breakdown. Go back to my parents house. Diagnosed (correctly) age 18. Medicated correctly age 19. Psychologist and psychiatrist. Anxiety, depression, chronic fatigue. And this is what I learnt, age 21:

*It IS better to get medicated by a psychiatrist than a rheumatologist. There was not an ounce of inflammation in my body in my case.

*Codeine, Tylenol, Weed. Not really helpful, do more damage than good for me.

*What's helpful immediately? HOT. A hot bag, a hot bath. Maybe it doesn't get the pain away but (and I'm going to give quite a bad advice here) the "pain" of the hotness is brand new and kind of makes you forget the other ones.

*Mental Health Support. I'm lucky that nothing triggered my fibro. My family and people that I surround myself with were selected very carefully to be understanding and empathetic, I did this without realizing from a young age, because I was (am) demanding. Now it's a conscious effort.

-What happened was: Tape A personality. Difficulty to accept failure. Anxiety. Fibro. Depression. In that order. SO, I had to figuring it out backwards. Treat the immediate pain first. Depression next. Then look at yourself and realize when the flare ups really happen, then anxiety. I'm there now. I'm figuring that last one out. I still feel an incredibly amount of pain and exhaustion, and have fits of extreme anxiety like twice a week. But you have to be resilience and fight the core of all of it.

*Doctors don't know that much. Your gut feeling in this specific case can be more helpful, but do not go overboard. Don't go Worst Case Scenario. Find a good doctor for God's sake. There's always one. And work WITH him, don't let him do everything for you, and don't try to dictaminate everything yourself. Both of those are dangerous.

*Understanding yourself doesn't mean you're cured. There IS an unbalance in your brain chemistry, and that's why the meds are important. But it's a teamwork of meds + therapy + daily behavior. One falls off, and everything crumbles.

*GOOD NIGHT SLEEP. Blackout curtains, white noise, chilly atmosphere, big duvet and a bag of hot water. The goal is to go to bed early, the MEANS are to wake up early. That way, you won't feel guilty and anxious if you don't go to sleep early that day, because you WILL make it up and wake up at the exact same time as always. It's difficult if not impossible for some to do it yourself, so ask ANYBODY to help you. Maybe from months on end. But eventually your body will get used to it.

*HAPPINESS. And you are rolling your eyes right now. But listen. I know how depression for months feel like. I know how hard it is to crawl out of bed to take a piss, let alone stand for 15 minute to have a whole shower. But listen to me. YOU. ARE. ALIVE. You are NOT going to DIE FROM THIS. Nothing is happening to your physical body that can't be fixed. It's your brain. It is harder? Yes, so much more. But take my word please. If you are stubborn, if you fight everytime you can, you will eventually win.

*What you mean fight? Well, this is a long one. Bare with me: Fight does not means control. Does not means going against your body. It's understanding. It's balance, push a little bit but not too much. It's being happy for a little tiny bit. In so much pain, and darkness and sorrow. You HAVE to find this little bubbles of happiness. And it's fucking hard, because what can you do? You can't play an instrument, you can't go out with friends, you can't play videogames, or cook. You don't enjoy reading enymore, you don't enjoy movies anymore. So what? Well, let me give you this stupid premise:

AND THIS. TOO. SHALL PASS AWAY.

Pain will be a little bit tolerable, and the next day absolutely devastating. But it will pass, both those occasions. Find the good feeling of feeling better. Rejoice in it. Embrace it. And then let it go. Because it will be temporarily. Then recibe the pain, embrace it, and bare with it. Listen to what it has to say. And when you're body is ready, and you are ready, it will go too.

This is not a simple process. It could take minutes, days, moths, years. But it will eventually change. Even if it comebacks, make sure that you have change a little bit in the process, so you are not the same person anymore. Suddenly you will notice that this things will pass more quickly. That letting it go will be easier.

Let go of expectations, but not hope. Let go of drinking alcohol, let go of eating everything you want. Let go of that dream job, that meeting with your friends, your independence, your mental health. Let it go somewhere. And maybe, sometime, when you are ready, they'll come back to you. But only if you expect them standing up, strong and with open arms.

*So stop THINKING ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME, acknowledge that is there, but also think of something else. If you are smart enough, you will eventually find your bubble. Sing. Pet a puppy. Swim. Have a good laugh with someone. There are still bubbles to find. This is a part of you, a big one, but it not all there is.

*Play it an octave lower. Don't let it escalate. It hurts, yes. But at least it was better than last time. Don't lie to yourself, you won't belive it. But try to make an effort and not think the worst of it all the time, it will make you angry. And Sad. Write about it, talk about it, but tone it down. Explode every once in a while, absolutely. But let the blow fade away.

-I got it bad. I got it early. I got every symptom. I got into every diet. Every therapy. Withdraw. Headache. Feeling like I wanted to chop my legs off. But I'm alright. Because I learnt to almost, almost, enjoy the pain. The bad times. I learn to respect them. I learnt not to be so hard on myself. I found my bubbles of pure joy and happiness amidst all of this.

I don't know if it is because is my willing to live that got me here, but I don't care. I am here. I matter. And let me tell you something. One day, I realized It went away. All of it. Very low pain, very low tiredness. I was almost a normal human being for MONTHS. And then it passed. I got it all again.

But I am not the same person. I'm not a scared 16 years old. I learnt to enjoy things while being anxious. I swear is possible. I am happy, I am a happy go lucky girl again, just with more nuance underneath. Please, the only thing that this god damn desease can't take from you, it's hope. That's the only thing that you can cling to. Carry it with you. And be happy, because you are alive.

#fibromyalgia #chronic pain #fibro fog #fibrosucks #Fibro #fibroawareness #anxeity #physical fatigue

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rkived · 4 years

Text

drabble #4: a look back into pediatricsurgeon!jungkook’s and generalsurgeon!reader’s friendship throughout med school.

or, what those infamous ‘‘med school vibes’’ are all about.

(hospitalplaylist!au)

↩ previous | 📍drabbles masterlist | next ↪️

JUNGKOOK’S FIRST YEAR OF MED SCHOOL.

‘‘Okay, let’s begin.’’

Taehyung’s face is puffed up, barely awake. Just five minutes ago he was dreaming about being the mayor of Springfield, the fictional town in The Simpsons, and now he’s quizzing his roommate, Jungkook, before his big Pharmacology exam.

‘‘What’s bioavailability?’’

Jungkook hums ‘‘The amount of medication in your blood that’s available to produce an effect.’’ he answers and Taehyung nods, yawning, moving on to the next question.

‘‘What is azithromycin used for?’’

‘‘Viral In─?’’

Taehyung shakes his head no.

‘‘Oh! Bacterial infections!’’ Jungkook corrects himself and receives a nod of approval from his roommate ‘‘Kinda forgot for a second.’’

Taehyung ignores his excuse and continues quizzing him for a few more minutes, the tiredness still evident in his face, but his anxious friend had him slightly worried.

‘‘Dude, you’re flunking this shit.’’ Taehyung mutters, counting down how many right answers his roommate had gotten ‘‘You only got six out of fifteen questions right.’’

Jungkook mumbles a curse and places his head over his hands. He couldn’t afford to fail this class, Pharmacology was a pain in the ass and he did not want to take it again.

Taehyung hums as he stares at his nervous friend, his leg bouncing up and down with nervousness. The older friend understood his position, though he didn’t experience much trouble when he took this class two years ago, he had definitely felt pre-exam jitters before.

‘‘Did you not study or?’’ Taehyung asks him in a gentle tone, not wanting to put him under the spot even more.

Jungkook sighs and runs his hand through his short hair ‘‘A little, I uh─I was supposed to take a book out from the library to do more research, but a girl from my class wanted it so I gave it to her because━’’

Taehyung’s eyes open wide like saucers and he doesn’t let his younger friend finish his explanation.

‘‘You gave up a book for a girl? Because she wanted it?’’

So long for not wanting to put him under the spot.

Jungkook already felt bad, but the amused tone on Taehyung’s voice made him feel worse.

He knew it was a dumb decision. He handed the book over to her a week ago, when he grabbed it and was ready to take it out to study until she popped out of nowhere and asked him if she could have it, pleading eyes and with hands placed together as if she was begging.

And Jungkook was a first year student, he was still slower than his seniors. He was kinda lucky having Taehyung, a third-year student, as his roommate. The more knowledgeable guy had shared with him most of the tips and tricks he needed to know to survive in Med School.

Though Taehyung was now regretting forgetting to tell him that when it came down to being ‘‘nice’’ to other students, he had to think smartly and be a little selfish. Especially when a big exam was coming up and you weren’t particularly the best student in the class.

‘‘You’re a dumbass and you’re failing this exam fair and square.’’

Jungkook frowns, not appreciating his roommate’s words ‘‘Thanks, I’ll try my best not to.’’

With this, he takes his backpack and snatches the papers from Taehyung’s hands.

---

Which of the following is a short-term side effect of amphetamine?

Constipation

Hair Loss

Suicidal Thoughts

Depression

‘‘Isn’t it all of them?’’ Jungkooks whispers to himself as he reads the options over and over again, getting himself more confused rather than obtaining a clear answer.

This was a starter question! A basic one, if you may. He knows he’s supposed to be able to answer this without hesitation, but he’s looking at the question as if it was a foreign topic.

He sighs and decides he’ll come back to it later, maybe the answer will come to him later.

When choosing to supplement, what type of vitamin D do most healthcare professionals prescribe and why?

Cholecalciferol because it cannot cause adverse effects

Vitamin D because there is only one type of supplement available.

Cholecalciferol because it is the naturally occurring form in the body.

None of the answers are correct.

‘‘Fuck, I know this.’’ Jungkook mumbles, hand coming to scratch the side of his head.

It’s A.

No, it’s B.

But what if it’s C?

It can’t be D, that’s a trick answer and─

‘‘Psst,’’ he hears from behind him, but he’s too deep in thought wondering which option is the right one. ‘‘Pssst,’’ Jungkook’s eyes raise from his paper and into the sea of students taking the exam around him.

Jungkook stares at his Pharmacology professor, sitting on his chair as he tries to stay awake to keep an eye on his 40+ students. The class started at 7 AM and even he hated waking up early.

‘‘Pssssst,’’ he hears again, this time a little more intense and he’s trying his hardest not to turn his head and see where the noise is coming from, fearing he might get mistaken for cheating.

He decided to ignore the sound and after that, whoever was making the noise, decided to stop as well.

An hour and a half later, Jungkook was out of the horrible exam and ready to cry it out for a little in his room. He was hoping Taehyung had left for his exams by then.

If Jungkook could grade his exam he’d give himself a C, nice try kid.

‘‘Gosh, are you deaf or something?’’ he hears from a voice behind him, turning around to find the girl from the library. The one he had given the Pharma book to, sacrificing himself to please her. ‘‘I was trying to get your attention!’’ she complains and Jungkook’s just staring at her.

‘‘What?’’ he speaks up, but it comes out as a mere whisper because he’s confused as hell.

He’s still thinking about the exam and now he has this girl looking at him like he’s a weirdo.

‘‘I was trying to help you, I saw some of your answers and they were wrong.’’ She explains and his eyebrows raise slightly ‘‘Hair loss is a short-term side effect of amphetamine? Really? That’s basic Pharmaco.’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘And don’t even get me started on your answer for the vitamin D supplement, that was a piece of cake!’’ The girl continues to complain about his wrong answers and Jungkook is left speechless. ‘‘I was gonna give you my answers, which I know are right because I studied, but you never turned around.’’

Jungkook’s brows furrow.

The reason why he was able to recognize her in the library last week was because she was an avid participant during lectures. Always had something to say, a question to ask, ready to share a random fact that not even the professor knew about.

Jungkook’s not surprised she didn’t recognize him back then, not even now. He’s the total opposite of her. Never speaks in class, all the questions he wishes he could ask are kept inside his head and he doesn’t know anything about Pharmacology because everything is a big question mark to him.

‘‘You studied because of me.’’ he states and her eyes go wide like saucers.

‘‘Whu─?’’ It seems that the realization doesn’t hit her after her eyes narrow at him and a lightbulb lights up over her head ‘‘Oh! You’re the guy from the library! You gave me the book!’’

‘‘Yeah,’’ Jungkook replies bitterly ‘‘so if my answers are wrong, it’s because of you little Ms. Know-It-All.’’

He’s had enough of this and he still wants to cry, the added tension of this random girl mocking his failure has become another reason as to why he needs to get to his dorm room immediately.

But she won’t let up so easily.

‘‘Wait!’’ she says, grabbing Jungkook’s arm as a way to stop him, but the taller guy yanks her hand away and continues to walk as she trails behind him ‘‘I swear I didn’t know then you were my classmate! I even asked you if you needed the book, you said no.’’

That was true, but Jungkook’s a first year student who obviously thinks being nice will get him A’s on his exams. He doesn’t need books. Being nice will get him that degree.

Jungkook shrugs it off, but she’s relentless and holds onto his backpack straps instead.

‘‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so bitchy,’’ she apologizes as Jungkook continues to drag her through the building’s hall, hoping she’ll let go of his straps soon. ‘‘I just got frustrated because I really wanted to help you and—Ow!’’

Jungkook suddenly stopping makes her collide with his back abruptly, he gasps and quickly turns around to find her massaging her forehead that’s now sporting a red mark from the impact.

‘‘It’s okay, I deserve it! Karma, right?’’ she chuckles and he sighs.

‘‘If I forgive you will you leave me alone?’’

She frowns with a pout ‘‘No,’’ she states and he groans ‘‘because if you get a low grade, I’ll feel extremely guilty.’’

‘‘Then you’ll just have to live with it, I guess.’’ he shrugs.

Jungkook promises he’s usually not like this.

She ignores him instead ‘‘If you get a low grade, you can take the exam again! Professor Lee is really nice and understanding—”

“I know nothing about this class.” Jungkook interjects firmly, hoping that it serves as an answer for her.

She hums “I can help you study!” she offers and he looks at her with surprise “Not to brag, but I’m really good at Pharmaco.” she smiles, but it comes off as less than humble to him.

Jungkook would rather flunk this class than have her tutor him. Actually, he rather have Taehyung flick him on the head every time he gives a wrong answer until he gets them right.

She can tell he’s about to say no and so she pleads “Please! Please let me help! It’s the least I can do.”

Her begging is very reminiscent of the one she did in the library last week. Jungkook had to give it to her, she could throw quite a convincing act.

And free tutoring is a hard offer to come by. One thing that reigned over med students was this superiority complex, the “I’m a better student than you” idea that would blind people into thinking they shouldn’t help their peers.

So, yes, maybe she was annoying and a little bitchy, but just like Jungkook, she’s just being nice.

He sighs with defeat “Alright, I’ll take your help.”

She gasps with surprise and claps her hands with excitement, making the taller guy laugh through his nose.

“I’ll give you my number! You can call or text me if you need any help.” she quickly adds and it’s not like he can object because she’s already writing her number down on a pink post-it note.

“Y/N?” he reads the name once she hands the piece of paper over, she smiles and nods.

“At your service! I’m good with Pharmaco, Biochem, and Pathology!” she informs and he nods slightly “Don’t ask me about microbiology, though, it’s my weak spot.” she shyly admits

His eyes light up at the mention of his favorite course “I love that class!” he comments and you tilt your head to the side, how could he possibly? “If you need help, you can ask me!”

You both smile at each other, realizing this small deed turned out to be perfect for you both.

—

JUNGKOOK’S THIRD YEAR OF MED SCHOOL.

“Could you like—stop that?” You mumble, pushing Jungkook off of your shoulder as the sleepy guy shuffles in the tiny space of your bed “Jungkook, seriously! We have a test tomorrow, you wanna flunk it?”

He yawns “You’ll help me if I do.”

“That was a one time thing only,” you narrow your eyes at him “this time it’s not gonna be on me!”

You try to make some sense into your friend, but he’s not bugging at all. Though you try to understand, you’ve been cramming neurology concepts for the past four hours with no breaks in between.

Sometimes you forget Jungkook’s study method is very different from yours.

“Shhh,” Jungkook hushes you with his eyes closed and a frown in his brows “‘’M trynna sleep.”

Jungkook falls asleep to the sound of your mumbling complaints about how he’d fail the test and how you’d have to help him like you always do. He smiles to himself because your bed is really comfy and the air freshener that you spray every other hour smells like fresh laundry.

You stare at him, peacefully snoring into your pillow, mouth slightly open as he breathes in and out. You should be angry, he was the one who proposed studying together after all.

But all you do is cover him with your favorite fuzzy blanket and pat his shoulder before you go back to the lessons in your book.

The silence is comfortable. It helps you study better and it gives him peace as he dreams of whatever. It’s always like this for you two.

—

JUNGKOOK’S FIFTH YEAR OF MED SCHOOL.

The packed boxes and bags placed on Taehyung’s bed throw Jungkook off because it finally hits him that, after five years of rooming with the older friend, he’d have to find a new roommate.

He enters a frenzied state of questions in his head.

Is my new roommate going to be messy?

Is my new roommate going to listen to music so loud I won’t be able to sleep?

Will my new roommate hate video games and won’t let me play my FPSGs?

Jungkook hadn’t realized how well of a dynamic he and Taehyung shared until today. Always thought that they kept rooming because they were friends and not because they actually were able to coexist with each other.

And now that Taehyung’s graduating, Jungkook is left to wonder what will happen next.

He was in that state of mind all day long.

When he watched his soon-to-be ex roommate pack his belongings in boxes that were divided by categories. As he sat in the crowd of attendees for that semester’s graduates, Taehyung in between the handful of fresh new M.Ds. And now, as his fellow group of friends were singing their drunk asses off into the microphone of the karaoke room they had rented for the night.

Jungkook doesn’t know what song Taehyung and Namjoon are singing, but it’s definitely one that came out when he was just a baby.

“You know you look really funny when you space out, right?”

He blinks and you’re sitting next to him, giving him a raised brow as you wait for him to answer.

Jungkook’s been told this multiple times, mostly by you. His doe eyes go wide, mouth shut into a line as he just stares into space and even he would like to know what it is that goes through his head during those moments, he always seems to forget when he comes back to reality.

“I’m so glad those two decided to become doctors instead of singers.” you joke, looking over at the two friends who were trying, but failing, at reaching a high note.

He doesn’t laugh, though.

“Are you okay?” you carefully ask, noticing his unusual behavior. Jungkook was…a special kid, for the most part. But you weren’t used to looking at him this quiet and so out of place. “Should I worry?”

Jungkook shakes his head no and sighs, realizing his mood is changing yours as well and this is supposed to be a happy occasion, because Taehyung just graduated and he should be excited for his friend.

“Ahhh, I see,” you say with a nod, realization hitting you “you’re sad ‘cause Taehyungie is leaving, right?”.

“No.” Jungkook mumbles, hoping that it was convincing enough for you to buy, but he knows that you rarely ever let up.

You smile, finding it endearing how he’s embarrassed to admit that it does hurt. You’ve been there before when Namjoon graduated two years ago and you were a sobbing mess because it felt as if your older brother was leaving and never coming back.

It sucked that Jungkook and you were the youngest ones in the friend group. You didn’t get to interact much with the older friends due to how ahead they were of you both, but they served as good mentors as you and he made your way along Med School.

“If it makes you feel better, you still have me.” you say with a smile and a squeeze to his shoulder, Jungkook stares back at you with an expression you can’t quite pinpoint “Only two more years.”

Saying it out loud feels unreal. He actually has stuck it out for that long. And as he stares at you giggling about your drunken singing friends, Jungkook realizes he hasn’t been alone during this journey.

You have to pretend his unwavering eyes are not making you feel under pressure.

—

JUNGKOOK’S SEVENTH AND FINAL YEAR IN MED SCHOOL.

“If you don’t tell her now, you probably never will!”

Jungkook gulps as he fixes his robe in front of the mirror. Taehyung is behind him, glaring at him with so much force that the soon-to-be graduate feels like he has to hide.

“Why would I tell her?” Jungkook mumbles “It’s just a silly crush, that’s it.”

And it’s true, just a silly crush! One that he had been hiding for the last couple of years until a few weeks ago, when his friends took him out drinking, between drunken words he had confessed to his older friends the feelings he had been harbouring for you.

“We know.” they all said in unison

And ever since then, they —especially Taehyung— had been pushing him into coming clean to you. With graduation happening today, it felt like it was Jungkook’s last chance to tell you before it was too late.

He knows where you’re going to specialize after this and he knows he won’t see you for a couple of years and vice versa.

Jungkook will be able to go on about his life and get over whatever he’s feeling for you and that gives the opportunity for you to continue ahead with the idea that he’s your best friend and that he’s never felt anything for you.

“Because maybe she feels the same way!” Taehyung argues and by the look on his face, it’s clear that he’s frustrated with his youngest friend “Like, y’know how Y/N is super smart, right?” He asks and Jungkook nods “Well, every time she’s around you she goes dumb! That’s the love effect.”

Jungkook chuckles at his friend’s comment. The idea of you liking him back is actually sweet, makes his heart beat a little faster. But it’s just that, a mere thought.

Because in reality, you’re always smart and never dumb enough to like him back.

He has a front row seat as you receive your diploma, the biggest smile on your face as you pose for the cameras and thank your adviser. Spotting Jungkook in the crowd as he claps excitedly for you, you send a wink his way, making his heart flutter in the process.

And he feels like he should tell you. What’s the worst that could happen?

Losing his dignity? He lost it years ago.

Rejection? He can handle it, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Congrats, grad!” you say with excitement, after finding each other in the crowd of families and graduates “We did it!”

“Yeah,” Jungkook chuckles, his heart is full of endearment as he watches you bounce with excitement in your heels “we made it, barely.”

His heart is yelling at him to just do it now. He won’t have time later, what with your family wanting to take you out to celebrate and maybe his group of friends suggesting the usual post-grad Karaoke night. This is probably the last time Jungkook will be able to have you alone.

In the corner of his eye he’s able to spot Taehyung, he’s far away but it’s clear that he’s dramatically mouthing TELL HER NOW! Seokjin, Namjoon and Yoongi are behind him, tugging at his suit’s sleeves so they’re able to drag him out of sight.

“Hey, so…” Jungkook doesn’t mean for his voice to come out so shaky and you look at him with glowing eyes, excitement still bubbling in you “Uhm—“

Say it, you idiot. Just say it.

“Where are you going out to eat?”

Fuck.

You chuckle as you tell him they’ll probably take you to some BBQ place and suggest if he would like to come. Jungkook quickly denies the offer and a few seconds later, you’re telling him that you should go and find your family.

Not before giving him a big hug and a kiss to his cheek, a friendly one “Don’t get too drunk tonight!”

Oh, yeah...

The worst thing that could happen if he tells you how he feels is that he’ll ruin your friendship. No biggie, right?

And you’ve been there for far too long, have put up with him through all his shenanigans, been too nice to him and he won’t fuck all of that up just because of a silly crush.

Jungkook’s left to watch as you hurriedly spot your family, jumping with excitement into your father’s arms. The next second Taehyung is pulling at his ear, scolding him because he knows the graduate didn’t confess.

He’s calling his older friends for help, but they let Taehyung have this, just this once.

a/n: hello!! i decided to write this bc for the past drabbles the ‘‘med school vibes’’ have been mentioned n here’s a backstory to jk n reader’s friendship back then. i think this is a lil too long to be considered a drabble but wtvr. i did research those pharmaco questions n verified with my med student friends to fact check them lol hope all is well <3

#jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook drabble #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook au #jeon jungkook scenario #jeon jungkook smut #i thought abt so many other moments between those two but it would've been so long sorry heehee

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addictedtoredemption · 3 years

Text

Poop Sock

It’s November 14th , 2019. I had just woken up, and it was time for the usual morning pee. As I pull down my pants and go to sit down I brace myself for the cold steel metal that soon will be touching my bare skin. The initial shock of the brisk coolness fades, and my eyes gaze over to the side of the toilet, and I see a gray frayed sock that has been tied in a knot. I think to myself, “this must have been left here by someone before me. Yuck, that’s fucking gross.” I contemplate whether I should throw it away. I hope to myself that I won’t be here long enough for it to matter. Hopefully I will leave today, and this sock won’t matter. Why bother throwing it away? “No, I better just get it out my sight, plus I don’t want them to think I have something extra or that I am not picking up after myself.” I grab the sock between my pointer finger and thumb and the oh so familiar “this is fucking gross” scrunched up face is on full display. That’s weird, it’s heavy, what the hell is in here? I don’t want to know. I toss it in the trash, and hear it thud against the brown plastic bin. I sit down on the blue mat on the floor.

I haven’t cried much yet. I’m still in shock. How did I get here? Why do I do this to myself? Why can’t I just play by the fucking rules? I hear the slamming of the thick steel door, and I hear the corrections officer yell, “Food! Top tier.” Ladies begin rushing down the stairs. It’s wave of orange jumpsuits that form a long line down one side of the commons area of Mod 13. Mod 13 is the women’s minimum-security housing for inmates. Definition of inmate: any of a group occupying a single place of residence especially: a person confined (as in a prison or hospital.) Inmate- Jenna West, 34, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, nurse, and now inmate. In jail, you are none of those other things, you are inmate. “Inmates line up for food, inmate meds are here, inmate line up for court, inmate you can use the phone, inmates you can shower, inmates it’s time for lights out.” You see, the corrections officers don’t know my story, they don’t really care. They are here to earn their paycheck and go home. They see me simply as another criminal, piece of shit, and deservedly here to serve out time for the deviant ways I have betrayed society. I stare at the women in line waiting for the slop that is to be served on scratched up, sometimes clean brown trays. They hold their brown cups in their hand hoping that by the time they get up to the front the juice won’t be gone. I use the term juice lightly, as it is a cup of water with a splash of flavoring. As they wait for their food they laugh, chat, braid each other’s hair, and seem oblivious to their current situation. It enrages me that they can be having a good time. Do they not realize this isn’t summer camp? We are in jail! “Bottom tier, let’s go.” I grab my cup and walk across the bright white floor to take my place in line. I am careful not to push my way in and try to remain unseen. That is until “Inmate! Are you forgetting something?” I don’t even look up; it doesn’t occur to me that she would be talking to me. “Hello?!, Inmate orange needs to be on.” I look down and I still have my brown t-shirt on. I feel like it’s the first day of school when you inevitably miss the memo on what’s what, and now you are the center of attention. “Sorry, I’ll go get it.” I quickly walk over to myself cell and grab my orange shirt and walk back to the line. I get my tray of food. It’s brown mystery meat. I’m told it is hamburger. A piece of white bread, a plastic spoon with ½ teaspoon of ketchup, a potato side, carrots, and cookie. I eat the cookie. The hamburger is completely inedible. The potatoes have no flavor. The carrots are cold. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway. I begin to think about my family. How worried my mom is. How mad my husband is. How clueless my kids are as to where Mommy is. I just want to be home. I want to be watching my two-year-old little girl playing with her toys, watching Pink Fong, and running to me for the occasional snuggle or kiss. I want to look outside and see my son, 10, walking down the hill from school. I want to greet him at the door and ask how his day is. I want to have some funny banter with my husband over texts. I want to give him a kiss when he comes home from work. I want to sit down on the couch with him and watch our shows. I want to sleep in bed next to him. Oh, a bed-I would give anything for a bed. I had dreams almost every night I was in jail about finding pillows in secret passageways. I just wanted a fucking pillow. All we are given is a 1-inch-thick blue mat with one end a little thicker for what one might call a pillow. It’s a stark contrast from my king size bed, with a 2in memory foam thick mattress toppers, Casper pillow, and down comforter. I don’t get a sweet tap on my shoulder at 2 am from my sweet Stella, asking if she can sleep with me. Instead, I lay awake most hours of the night counting the white bricks that make up my small cell, all 252 of them. I am anxious, I am sad, and I am defeated. During phone time, I call my mom just to have a small amount of comfort. She hears the pain and sorrow in my

voice. I know it’s selfish of me to call her, I know that calling her, and letting her hear me cry is painful, but I can’t help it. I need that comfort, I need to hear her voice, and I need a moment away from my reality. I call my husband, Casey, next. I ask if he has spoke to my lawyer, if he found out when I might get out, and I ask what he told Jaxson. His tone with me is firm, and his answers are concise. I don’t find much comfort in talking to him, as I know that he is angry with me. I’ve let him down. I’ve made him the sole caretake for our children for no one knows how long. I’ve placed my job in jeopardy. I’ve embarrassed him. There are few family members, and friends that know of my situation at this point, and he now has to tell them his wife, mother of his children is in jail so he might need some help with the kids. He tells me he told Jax, that Mom had to go on a work trip, and she is somewhere where there is no service. Jax asked, “Why would she just leave? Why wouldn’t she say goodbye? When will she be back.” These feelings my son had to feel because of my poor choices is just another ripple of many ripples in this giant ocean of the clusterfuck I have made of my life. The burden my husband had to bear is one of many he has had to endure because he married an addict. The pain and disappointment my mother and father felt is only worsened by images of their youngest daughter in jail away from her family, and there is nothing they can do to help.

I do find some comfort in that I don’t have a cellmate. I get the bottom bunk so I don’t have to try to hoist myself up on the top one. That comfort is quickly taken away on day two of my jail stint. Midday on November 14th a pretty brunette girl storms through the cell door into my cell. She says, “Hey, I am your roommate, can I have the bottom bunk? I just had a baby, and I can’t climb up there.” She could have given me any reason as to why she wanted the bottom bunk, and I would have conceded. She seemed like this wasn’t her first rodeo, and I wasn’t about to start any bad blood with someone I’d be in an 8X10 room with for the foreseeable future. Rachelle, had just been moved from the medical infirmary back to general population, “gen pop.” She had her baby only three days early. She gave birth under police custody, she spent 24 hours with her baby before she was shipped back to jail. I felt sad for her, and I felt angry for her. How can the system be so heartless that they rip a newborn baby from their mother just hours after birth? She clearly isn’t a murderer or armed robber; she is in minimum security. What could she have done that was so terrible? I’d later find out that she was caught shoplifting from a Thrift world Store. She was nearly 7 months pregnant at the time, and when they searched her, they found meth in her bra strap. They didn’t give her a bond because they wanted to ensure the baby had a fighting chance. She was to serve out the rest of her pregnancy in jail, and after the baby was born they would then decide her fate. This girl gave zero shits about anything. She quickly rummaged through her clothes- two orange pairs of shirts and pants, two underwear, two sports bras, and two pair of socks. The standard wardrobe for Douglas County inmates. She threw of her orange shirt, and through her brown shirt I could see two wet sports where her nipples would be. She was leaking, engorged, and in pain. She threw off her bra and exposed her bare breast, then asked me what I think she should do? You see on top of the emotional pain of not being with her newborn, she had to endure the pain of not being able to breastfeed therefore having engorged breasts that leaked constantly causing chapped nipples that chaffed against her sport bra. She tried to put socks and toilet paper between her skin and her clothing to ease the discomfort, but it was to no avail. I looked down quickly, and just said you need to just try to keep them dry. I told her that if she had some Chapstick that it might help with the chaffing. She swapped bras and grabbed a clean shirt and continued to unpack her bags and make herself at home. She raised hell about how dirty the cell was, and ranted, “this is fucking disgusting, how do people live like this?” She ran out of the cell to grab cleaning supplies. Cleaning supplies? I had no idea we could just go get cleaning supplies to make things a little more livable. I assured her had I known, I would have cleaned, and I told her I was hoping I was leaving later that day, so I didn’t see the point. But I picked up some supplies and assisted her with the cleaning of our humble abode. Once everything was in order she said, “Do you have any extra socks?” I replied, “No, only what they gave me, why?” “Because we need to make a poop sock.” What the hell is a poop sock I thought. Is it what she used to wipe her ass? Does she poop in it in and throw it away, or reuse it? My mind mulled over what in the actual fuck is a poop sock. Turns out a poop sock is what I had thrown away earlier. You see I had no idea that that poop sock was a gift. A glorious gift that one inmate bestowed on future inmates in order to lessen our suffering. She explained that a poop sock is when you take a bar of soap, and crumble it into many pieces, let it dry out, and then stuff it into a sock and tie a knot on the top to hold it all in. Then when you take a number two you beat the sock against the wall and shake it all around you. A dust of soapy freshness then fills the air. A poop sock is a jail made bathroom air

freshener, and it was genius. I walked over to the trash and fumbled through the dirty paper towels we had just used to clean and pulled out our poop sock. Relief and delight washed over Rachelle’s face. Turns out she was an avid poop sock user, as I would soon be choking on soap flake dust every time she went to the bathroom. She would bang that thing against the wall and violently shake all around her while she used the bathroom. I couldn’t help but giggle because she looked like a priest throwing holy water on someone the way she shook that gray ratty sock all over the place. Day two, and I was learning the jailhouse lingo, and already impressed with what these ladies could come up with. I later told my mom, well at least this experience builds character.

I ended up only spending 7 days in jail. Some people respond to that, “Oh my god, 7 days? How did you get through that? I would die.” While others, like people I was on drug court with, would reply, “Ah, 7 days, man, that’s nothing. I lost 7 years while I was in prison.” It’s all about perspective.

#opiate addiction #recovering addict #jail #incarceron #addictive #funny stuff #nursing #mental illness #sobriety #recovery

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aricazorel · 3 years

Text

“The Shirt”

Kaidan Alenko x Kori Reese ME3- post citadel siege

Fluff prompt list 3-here

#15 “Is this okay?” “It’s perfect”

Kori in the shirt Kaidan gifted her from “Broken Road” by @crqstalite for her giveaway

Kaidan Alenko glanced down at the neatly folded shirt in his hands. It had been shoved in his duffle bag for a couple of weeks now. He’d washed it and refolded it when he’d found it as he put away his clothes in the drawer Kori had let him have. They shared quarters now; Kori insisting that he not camp out in the observation lounge living out of his duffle.

Sharing quarters with the Normandy’s first officer wasn’t a normal occurrence. In fact the Sentinel was pretty sure it was against regs, but Reese hadn’t cared when she made the offer. It was typical Reese attitude when she thought the rules were stupid. And honestly with the state of the galaxy, there was truly little chance of any one giving a damn about it. That being said, his thoughts circled back to the light blue shirt in his hand.

He had meant it as a replacement of sorts for the shirt he had given her on Earth. The one with “1st Special Operations Biotics Company” on it. And his last name which she later admitted was her favorite part of the shirt. She had left it on Earth along with many other things when they had been forced to evacuate. He was working on replacing hers as well as his but in the meantime he’d found something to make do. Well, sort of. He’d gotten an idea while in the hospital.

An idea that spurred him on to have the tee shirt made special for Kori soon after he’d accepted Shepard’s offer to return to the SR-2. He hadn’t given it to her yet mainly due to the initial strain their reunion had been under and then his worry that he had done something wrong again while trying to continue as they had been before Mars.

Now the Major stood in the middle of their quarters—Kori insisted he call them that—staring at the shirt, waiting for her to return from a briefing with Traynor. Would she like it? Had he gone too far? Would she even wear it?

His worried thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the door and familiar footfalls across the deck plates. He turned to see Kori tossing a data pad onto the nearby desk as she blew a stray strand of hair out of her grey eyes. She glanced at him, giving him a half grin.

“You waiting for me, Kaid?”

“I’ll always wait for you,” he replied automatically as the door slid shut, returning the room to the soft white light from before.

Reese frowned as she began taking off her uniform. It was the end of another long day and she most likely didn’t want anything but a relaxing evening. “Did I forget something? It’s not date night, is it?”

The Major shook his head with a chuckle remembering how forgetful she was about their one a week attempts at dates. “No. But I was waiting for you.”

Discarding her uniform shirt, she began working on her boots. “Am I in trouble? I haven’t done anything stupid or impulsive recently. And you can’t still be mad at me for jumping on the back of a Reaper enhanced Atlas to disarm it. There wasn’t much choice in that…”

“Oh, I’m not mad but just know I’m not going to forget about that or about you jumping out of the back of the Normandy to do an atmospheric jump without taking the meds you were supposed to take to prevent becoming sick. Or that you threw up on my boots because of that.”

“Fine. Next time you can upchuck on my boots and I won’t say anything,” she replied as she tossed her boots at him.

He caught them with his biotics and tossed them harmlessly to the side. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Kori.”

The Lt. Commander shrugged as she stood back up. “The offer still stands.”

Kaidan rolled his eyes as she motioned to the tee shirt in his hand. “What’s that?”

He glanced down at it, moving to hold it in front of him. “What? This?”

“No, Alenko. The second head you just grew,” Reese said sarcastically as she flipped her braid over her shoulder. “Yes, that.”

The L2 grinned up at her sheepishly. “Well, it’s a tee shirt.”

“Really? I couldn’t see that,” she quipped as she wormed her way out of her uniform pants, looking for the pair of yoga pants she frequently wore around their quarters.

“Well, maybe you couldn’t,” he pointed out, feeling cheeky. “It is folded up…”

Reese let out an exasperated sigh as he tossed her the pants she was looking for from the chair she had thrown them on that morning. She nodded her thanks as she pulled them on. “Kaidan, is there a reason you are being cryptic about this tee shirt?”

“Cryptic? You’re the one who’s made a big deal about it,” Alenko pointed out as he walked over to her. “All I did was stand here with it.”

“Kaidan.”

“I was going to give it to you,” Alenko explained as he fidgeted with the garment, his playful impulses replaced by nervousness. “I—I’ve had it since shortly after coming back aboard. I just didn’t know when to give it to you.”

“It’s a tee shirt, Kaid. What could be so hard about giving me a tee shirt?”

“It’s not the shirt itself but what I had put on the shirt.”

She eyed him suspiciously as he handed her the shirt. “Please tell me Joker or Vega didn’t put you up to this—”

“N—No,” the Major exclaimed as he held his hands up as if in surrender. “They had nothing to do with this. I thought of this while I was in the hospital. I wanted to replace the one you had to leave behind on Earth.”

“If that all it is, then why are you nervous?”

“Because it’s not the exact same…”

Frowning, Reese unfolded the shirt. She arched an eyebrow as she read the words on the front. Kaidan waited anxiously for her reaction. He couldn’t be sure if what he was seeing was sincere since she was notorious for teasing him.

Her expression remained neutral as her eyes looked intently at the shirt. She was making him wait on purpose. She had to be.

“Kori, I—”

“I won’t wear it.”

“What? Why?” He asked in confusion. She had a sense of humor, surely what the shirt said didn’t offend her. She had to get the joke.

Her grey eyes met his whiskey brown ones as she turned the shirt around to reveal the front: ‘I [heart] makos.’ The heart was literally a red heart. “I won’t wear it outside our quarters.”

Kaidan felt a grin spread across his face. “So you will wear it?”

She nodded, a small thoughtful smile tugging at her lips. “It’s soft. I might sleep in it.”

“That’s an idea,” he said as he pulled her undershirt over her head. “I think I like that idea.”

Reese gazed up at him as he threw her shirt in a pile with her pants. “Kaidan, have you told anyone about the Mako?”

“Well,” he began as he took the new shirt from her. She’d made him anxious for no reason. Two couple play that game. “I’ve told people I really like Makos, and I just don’t care for the Hammerheads at all.”

“That’s all you’ve told anyone?” she asked skeptically as he pulled the new shirt over her head.

He smirked at the Lt. Commander as her head popped out of the shirt. “I have never once told anyone the real reason I prefer a Mako over any other vehicle. I simply say it’s more reliable than Hammerheads and an improvement over the Grizzly.”

“Kaidan.”

“Alright,” he conceded as he helped to pull her long dark hair out of the collar of the shirt. “I may have mentioned that the back seat is very comfortable…and spacious.”

“Alenko!”

He cupped her face with his hands as he kissed her tenderly. “I have never told anyone why I thought it was comfortable or how spacious it is for non-military purposes.”

She made a face but took him at his word. “Fine. I believe you. But don’t ever tell anyone we shagged like rabbits for the first time in the same Mako Shepard used to drive like a manic on away missions.”

“I promise,” he assured her as he pulled her down to the bed. With Kori snuggled against his chest, he added, “Too bad there aren’t any Mako’s on the SR-2.”

Reese thumped his chest as she said, “Kaidan, really?”

“Fine,” he said as he rested with his arms folded under his head. “You know though…There are two shuttles…”

“Hell, no, Alenko!” she exclaimed as she raised up to leer over him.

He stared back, amused by her glare. Grazing her cheek with the knuckles of one hand, he admitted, “I guess I’ll have to settle for the memory of the Mako and my cabin and that hotel room and the roof of the—”

Reese kissed him in an attempt to stop his rambling. “Thank you for the shirt, techboy.”

He pulled back just a little bit as he gently tugged on the shirt. Despite her thanks, uncertainty still remained in his whiskey-colored eyes. “Is this okay?

Kori smiled. “It’s perfect, Kaid. I like the Mako too and everything that came after because of it.”

Kaidan smiled as he kissed her back. The shirt had been a good choice. Returning to the Normandy had been a good choice. The Mako had been a good choice. Being with Kori again was the perfect choice.

#fluff prompts #crqstalite draws #mass effect #Kaidan Alenko #Kori Reese #Kaidan x fem oc #broken road

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onceinsomniac · 4 years

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hello, I would ask for a red velvet reaction to their gf coming home beaten by an "fan" who doesn't approve their relationship, a little angst with a fluff ending please

Author’s note: Hi, I really liked this request so thank you so much for requesting it. I hope you enjoy it :)

Red Velvet Reaction to their girlfriend being beaten up by a sasaeng fan

Irene

Irene was in the kitchen cooking dinner when she heard the door to the apartment opening. “I’m in the kitchen” she called out, knowing it was you. She stopped what she was doing, confused, when you didn’t answer her after a few seconds. “Jagi?” she called out again.

Silence met her question and she quickly turned off the stove before walking into the living room. The sight of you sitting on the couch, looking at her with a huge bruise already blooming over your cheek and a broken lip completely broke her heart.

She quickly snapped into her mother mode, taking your hand and leading you into the bathroom, where she then proceeded to sit you down on the covered toilet before taking out the med kit you guys kept in there. “Hold still” she told you as she carefully grabbed you by your chin in order to be able to have a better look at your battered face.

She fixed you up as well as she could, only breaking the silence to try to convince you to let her take you to the hospital but you adamantly refused. Afterwards, she led you back to the living room, sitting next to you on the couch. “What happened?” she asked, her voice soft and gentle. You hesitated briefly but eventually told her the truth, knowing that honesty was extremely important to Irene. “Some fans recognized me as I was walking home and thought it was their place to let me know how unworthy I am of you”, you told her bitterly.

Irene gasped when she heard what had happened. She couldn’t believe someone who called themselves her fans had dared lay a hand on the most important person in her life. She couldn’t help but feel responsible that this had happened to you. “Jagi, look at me”, she told you. Once you were meeting her eyes, she cupped your cheek, careful not to hurt you any further. “Whoever thinks you’re unworthy of me clearly doesn’t know you at all. You are the single most important person in my life and I’m so sorry that some idiots are too blind to see that. I promise I will do whatever it takes to make sure this never happens again.”

You knew from the tone in her voice that Irene was angry and for a brief second, you almost felt bad for the ones who had hit you. “I know”, you assured her. “I love you.” “I love you too. So much.” She told you, wrapping you in a hug, careful not to jostle your injuries.

Afterwards, she talked with her managers and her company and, with the help of your descriptions, they managed to find the ones who had beaten you up. You honestly didn’t care what happened to them and just wanted to forget about the whole incident but they had gotten on the bad side of Irene, and nothing could protect them from her fury. She made her company take legal action against them to make sure they never again touched you.

Seulgi

You knew Seulgi had the tendency to blame herself for things that were out of her control so you initially tried to hide what that “fan” had done to you, not wanting to cause her any pain or guilt. Unfortunately for you, Seulgi quickly realized you were avoiding her when you didn’t answer any of her video calls during the day while she was at practice. Especially since you had a fixed schedule for video calls when she was practicing and you never missed one before.

She spent the rest of the day anxious and wondering if she had done something wrong. After their choreographer finally called an end to the practice, she asked their manager to drop her off in front of your apartment after dropping the other girls off at the dorm. She quickly made her way inside, using the key you had given her a long time ago.

“Y/N?” She called, wondering where you were. It was already late at night and she knew for a fact that you were usually always home at that time so her worry started increasing as she got no reply. She walked towards your bedroom, thinking that maybe you were asleep and hadn’t heard her. She opened your bedroom door and felt relief rushing through her at the sight of a body lying under the covers.

“Jagi, you worried me”, she exclaimed, making her way to you. Her worry however, returned when, instead of answering, you covered your head with the sheets. “Y/N, what’s going on?” she asked, sitting down next to you on the bed. She started thinking that you were sick or something. It explained why you were hiding away, since you’d always hated people seeing you when you were sick. She let out a small chuckle, used to this. “Jagi, how many times do I have to tell you that you have to tell me when you’re sick?” she asked you, taking ahold of the sheets and ripping them of off you.

The sight of your broken body shocked her beyond belief. Both your eyes were black and your nose was clearly broken. The way you were curling into a ball made it clear that your face wasn’t the only part of you that was hurt. “What happened?” she exclaimed, feeling tears stinging her eyes at the moan of pain that came out of your mouth.

She immediately took out her phone and started dialing 911 when your hand shot out to stop her. “Please don’t” you said, the pain audible in your voice. Seulgi hesitated for a moment before pocketing her phone again. “Okay but I’m going to need you to let me take care of you then”, she bargained. You nodded your agreement. “Good, now I’m going to move you to the bathroom so I can take a better look at your injuries, okay?” she said. She waited for your nod of consent before putting an arm under your neck and the other under your legs and gently hoisting you into her arms.

She carried you into the bathroom where she then sat you on the counter, her heart aching each time you winced. “I’m going to need to take of your clothes to see the injuries”, she warned you, waiting for your agreement before slowly easing you out of your hoodie, leaving you in only a bra. She gasped at the sight of your black and blue skin, the result of the vicious beating you’d been subjected to. “I’m sorry”, you said, hating yourself for being the cause of the sadness on Seulgi’s face.

Seulgi looked at you in disbelief. “Why are you sorry? Unless you somehow beat yourself, you have nothing to apologize for”, she admonished. You didn’t answer and Seulgi then proceeded to take out the cream she often used on the bruises she got from their harder choreographies and begin to apply it to your skin, being careful not to hurt you.

Afterwards, she took a pair of your pajamas and changed you into them, hoisting you back into her arms afterwards and carrying you back to bed. Once she made sure you were comfortable, sitting against your headrest, she sat in front of you, taking your hands into her own. “Who did this?” she asked, getting right to the point.

“Some stranger on the street”, you answered, still trying to protect her. “Y/N” she warned. You winced at the tone of her voice, knowing she knew you too well and that lying to her was just a waste of time. “A sasaeng of yours”, you admitted, hating the way guilt immediately filled her features. “Hey, this isn’t your fault, okay?” you told her.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to be comforting you”, she told you, shooting you a small smile as you wiped away the stray tear that had been making its way down her cheek. You let out a small chuckle, which you immediately regretted at a fresh wave of pain hit you making you gasp. “Hey, don’t move, okay. I’m going to stay over and you’re not moving a finger anytime soon.” Your girlfriend told you. You simply nodded your consent, knowing you couldn’t choose anyone better to take care of you.

The next day, Seulgi called Irene for advice on what to do, not wanting to let the sasaeng escape without consequences. Irene went to talk to the company for her while she stayed with you. She also wrote a very long letter which she posted on her Instagram, scolding all the people who didn’t agree or support her relationship with you. She was so angry at what had happened and would do whatever it took to make sure it never happened again.

Wendy

You and Wendy were having a date in the park, celebrating the fact that she had just gotten back from tour. You were sitting on a park bench, watching the ducks swimming in the water, when you got a sudden craving for ice cream. “Be right back”, you told her jumping up from your seat and running towards the ice cream truck that was always located at the end of the park. Wendy chuckled, knowing perfectly well where you were going, used to your antics. “Bring me back my usual”, she shouted at your retreating form.

A few minutes later, you stood in line, waiting for your turn, you were already drooling at the thought of a cookies and cream cone, especially considering the hot weather. After a few minutes, it was finally your turn to order. “Hey Mr. Kim. I’ll have the usual please” you ordered. You and Wendy visited the park so often that you had become acquainted with the old man who owned the ice cream truck a long time ago. “Hey Y/N. Here you go”, he told you, handing you a cookies and cream cone and a strawberry glaze one. You thanked him and paid him before starting to make your way back towards the park bench. You could see her in the distance, still watching the river and you smiled at the thought of her. You were just wondering how you got so lucky with her when a foot suddenly came out of nowhere, making you fall headfirst into the cement. Your ice cream flew everywhere and your nose cracked painfully against the concrete.

Your hands immediately went towards your nose, clutching it in pain. “That’s what happens for thinking you’re good enough for Wendy”, a voice taunted you. You looked up to see a woman about your age standing over you, a proud smile on her face. You were saved from having to respond by a sudden scream. “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” your girlfriend’s voice suddenly rang out.

Wendy had seen what had happened from the distance and was running over, a furious expression on her face. “oh my god, Wendy… hi” the fan mumbled, clearly starstruck at the sight of her idol standing right in front of her. Wendy, however, was not having it. “Why the hell did you do that”, she shouted, getting right in her personal space. “She deserves it.” The fan said, clearly not understanding why the other woman was so angry at her.

“Get away from us. I swear I will make sure you get thrown in jail if you ever come near either of us ever again”, she said, turning back to you and helping you stand up, ignoring the fan’s pleas for forgiveness. She wrapped an arm around your waist as you walked off. “Let’s get you to a hospital Jagi”, she told you, clearly still fuming.

“Hey, wait, stop” you told her once you were far from the sasaeng, stoppinh in your tracks and forcing her to stop as well. “Take a deep breath”, you told her. Wendy looked annoyed but did as you asked. “There, better?” you asked her. “Jagi, you’re the one who’s hurt here, not me”, she deadpanned. You let out a small chuckle, wincing at the pain the action caused you. “Well yeah, but you’re the one who looks the most affected” you reasoned.

“Wow, I knew you were a cheerful person but this is just getting ridiculous. That woman hurt you. You have the right to be mad right now”, she told you. She loved your never-ending positivity so much but it sometimes bothered you the way you tended to let people get away with hurting you. “I don’t know. You look mad enough for the both of us”, you joked.

Wendy only stared at you, her gaze hardening. You got serious, knowing your joking around was not making things any better. “I know, believe me, I know. And I am angry, honestly. The only thing I wanted was an ice cream and now I have to go to the hospital instead. But I feel like being angry is just letting her win. And that’s not worth it.” You explained.

Wendy was still furious but she could understand your reasoning, even if she disagreed. Moments like this only reminded her why she had fallen in love with you in the first place. “Come on. I’ll buy you an ice cream after a doctor checks out your nose.” She promised, wrapping her arm back around your waist and trying to fight back a small smile at the excitement that immediately lit your face at her words.

Joy

“Baby, I’m home”, Joy called out as she opened the door to the apartment. “In the kitchen”, you called out. Joy followed your voice, entering the kitchen to the sight of you cooking dinner. “Mmh, smells delicious”, she said as she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. Only to immediately let go when she felt you wince in pain. “What was that?” she asked you cautiously.

“What was what?” you asked, playing dumb and continuing to stand over the stove, refusing to look at her. “Y/N” She said. You gulped at the warning in her tone but continued what you were doing, acting like you hadn’t heard her. It was only a few seconds later that you felt hands grasping your waist and turning you around forcibly.

Joy wasn’t sure what she was expecting but the sight of a black eye and a bruise blooming over your cheek was definitely not it. A hand immediately went up to cup your cheek, only to fall away seconds later when you let out a gasp of pain. She remembered your earlier wince and her hands fell to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up and gasping at the sight of the ugly bruise on your stomach.

“Baby, what happened?” she asked, voice soft but you could hear the anger underneath. “It’s stupid. Some guy who apparently doesn’t like us being together recognized me on the street”, you explained, trying to brush the whole subject away. You didn't do well with being vulnerable in front of people, not even your girlfriend. You hated being vulnerable.

Joy, however, wasn’t about to let the subject go. “Where was it? What did he look like? We’re going back there right now to see if he’s still there”, she said, already dragging you half-way to the door by the wrist. “Wait, Joy stop”, you said, struggling to stop her in her tracks. “I just want to forget about everything”, you explained. Joy immediately turned around to face you. “What, and let him get away with hurting you? No way in hell”, she scoffed.

Joy loved you wholeheartedly but it sometimes angered her your tendency to let people step on you. She knew you hated confrontations so she took it upon herself to become your protector. To stand up for you when you refused to stand up for yourself. And she wasn’t about to let someone get away with hurting the love of her life. She was about to tell you just that when she noticed the tears you were holding back.

She immediately softened, pulling you into an embrace. “It’s okay” she whispered. “It’s okay. We don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to.” Joy knew that she couldn’t let this go but what she could do was leave it for tomorrow. Right now, her main priority was taking care of you.

But make no mistake, she would make sure that the bastard who had done that to you ended up in jail.

Yeri

Yeri found out what had happened after she got a phone call from the hospital. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach when she heard that you were in the hospital, after being found beaten up by some strangers in an alley.

She immediately started crying, much to her member’s worry. Once she told them what had happened, they dropped everything and had their manager drive them to the hospital, desperately running up to the man sitting in the desk in the lobby and asking for the room you where in. Once she had the number, Yeri ran through the hospital, ignoring her member’s calls telling her to slow down. She needed to see you.

She ran to your room but stopped in her tracks once she laid eyes on you. You heard her come in and turned to smile at her, motioning for her to come closer. But Yeri couldn’t take her eyes off your bruised face and from looking at your body, knowing the dressing gown probably hid even more injuries from sight.

“Jagi, come here”, you said, breaking her out of her stupor. She slowly made her way to you, quickly falling into your arms once she was within arm’s reach. You ignored the pain that came from the contact, instead enjoying the warm embrace of the woman you loved. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry”, Yeri kept mumbling into your head.

She knew you had been attacked by a sasaeng and she blamed herself, knowing that if it wasn’t for her, this would have never happened to you. You quickly shushed her, reassuring her that she had nothing to do with this. You saw the other girls of Red Velvet watching you both from the door. They saw you comforting Yeri and decided to go back to the waiting room to give you guys privacy.

After Yeri had finally calmed down, she took a step backwards so she could face you. “Y/N, I promise you that I will never let this happen again”, she said, seriously.

And she didn’t. She didn’t leave your side until you were discharged from the hospital and then she made her company put out a very serious note from her, warning any fan from ever doing something like that again. Her protectiveness also went up for a while after, barely letting you leave her sight. Not that you were complaining.

#request #red velvet reactions #Red Velvet #reactions

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