#and the hell are you gonna spend the rest of our childhood calling me names IN SIGN and expect me to catch feelings for you

[makorragal-312]

I don't think Oushi realizes how lucky he is that Yuki still puts up with him.

If some random kid I didn't know signed to me calling me "a fool," I honestly don't care who his sister is. The smoke is gonna be never-ending.

[delusion-of-negation]

Alright well as a Christian I'm supposed to forgive you but it's NOT gonna be easy. You, that pervert guy and that pedo tranny Dasha are EVERYTHING wrong with the world right now. It's YOUR FAULT our society has no morals. Congradufuckinglations you've made a girl with anxiety depression and BPD cry :)

forgive me for what, exactly? what did I specifically, only me, do?

because I don't remember doing anything bad to or with you, I wasn't involved in any group chats, I didn't spend time with you nor attack you. honestly, as far as I recall, I've said more about you these last few days, and all of that has been talking about finding out who you are, what happened, and what can be done to help end this mental break you're having - a mental break you seem to think justifies bombarding people with slurs and insults.

if you're gonna start forgiving me for shit I didn't do, then I'd rather you start by forgiving me for killing the dinosaurs, demoting pluto, and creating the coronavirus with stolen lab equipment.

dasha isn't a pedo, you dumb fuck, and falsely accusing people of being attracted to kids isn't gonna cure you of the alleged trauma of being a dumb kid who thought you'd make buddies in the anti-feminist community and then it turned out they were just as fucked as any community, and you got hate and made enemies.

we've all been through that shit, but the rest of us get therapy and move on with our lives - if I'm not blowing up the inboxes of people who tortured, sexually assaulted, starved, and beat me as a toddler, a child, a teen, I think you can handle not harassing people who knew someone who knew someone who said some mean shit in your tumblr inbox. when you're afraid of someone who actually hurt you, you don't make it your life's mission to antagonise people tangentially related to them to put yourself back on the radar of the people who actually dislike you - or, in case I need to spell it out, I don't buy your claims about your reasoning one bit.

I think you're being a pathetic attention whore who knows none of the people you're messaging - ace, dasha, etc, and now me - could or would do a single thing to hurt you, you know we're not what you claim, so you feel safe slinging whatever insults your tiny brain can conjure up, so that you can scream about how sad you are and get validation and comfort and requests for forgiveness from people nice enough to care about your temper tantrum. or more backlash and argumentation to fuel your persecution complex.

and you're too pathetic to even think of anything imaginative so you resort to ace's username, dasha's trans status, false allegations, and now you're trying to use the fact that I advocate for mentally ill people as a way to get at me - it's hollow and low effort.

I've tried to be nice the last few days, tried to say it sucks that stuff happened, that I hope you get well, etc, and all you've done is get worse and worse to people in their anons, I'm tired of trying.

as a "christian" (which you barely even are, you're just a wanna-be evangelical fundie fuck repeating what the big names in that area disingenuously vomit out), you're supposed to believe that forgiveness comes from god, that mortals are not called to judge on his behalf - and it's a damn good job because you'd be throwing people in hell for passing some guy on the street who's cousin once sold a spliff to someone he didn't know was seventeen.

while we're on the topic, I was raised around dumbass fucked up catholics (if you couldn't tell from my aforementioned childhood experiences), and you've got every single red flag for "fuckface who's only religious to justify being a fuckface" disease.

buddy, I'm a zombie, I know brain-dead when I see it, and you're on a whole new level of it. so cry more. your mental health issues make me feel sorry for you no more than mine made you not want to send this anon. or, in case I need to spell it out again, I don't give a fuck, you ain't special, I've got a list more than ten times as long as that and I'm not here using it to justify calling people slurs.

sucks that you're sick, but you're not gonna get sympathy points when you act like a slimy little wretch for days on end. I get it, being ill makes you mean sometimes, I've been there. still not my job to be your daddy and tell you to go eat some pasta and chill.

and I wish society had no morals, I wish I was giving it none, I wish I was half the amoral influence that you give me credit for.

I'm sick of puritanical, pseudo-religious, over-moralising of every insignificant aspect of our lives - we don't get a moment's peace from being asked to weigh in on every allegation in the news, every company's practices, whether it's okay to listen to some guy's songs, if your thoughts can make you a terrible person, the politics of other countries, the backlash to the backlash to the backlash to the backlash to some celebrity's baby name, whether some rando is "really trans", and a youtuber's mental health issues.

at this point I would gladly trade it in to be a four year-old chimney sweep in victorian england engaged to my cousin, fuck it. at least my aunt-mother-in-law in that world wouldn't believe in chemtrails and couldn't even spell problematic. it'd be total bliss.

in summary, I don't want forgiveness for shit I didn't do, especially from you. I want you to grow up, you bitchy little cunt.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter two rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Masterlist and Series Masterlist

Moving and finding an apartment can be an incredibly long and stressful process. Unless you’re you, and life likes to throw a lot of curve balls at you for the utter hell of it.

Your dad dropped dead three weeks after you told Andy you were moving to New York. Coincidentally, right in the middle of you trying to find a place to live. He drank himself to death. Figures. You doubted you’d ever had a conversation with him that he was sober enough to remember. His untimely demise was unfortunate for him, because he died or whatever, but very fortunate for you. As his only child, you got his apartment in Queens and all his smelly hoodies.

You said your goodbyes to Andy and Dani after a night out in the streets of San Francisco. You had originally moved there after high school to start your show, The L/n Report. San Francisco was known for its crimes against the homeless population and you wanted to start with a story on that. You ended up interviewing Andy at the police station while investigating a missing person, and dated him for two years. Now, you were spending your last few hours in San Francisco with the very boy you once loved and the very girl he now did.

“Are you all packed?” Dani asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Pretty much. I gotta put my toothbrush and hairbrush in my suitcase in the morning. Other than that, I’m good to go.” You answered her. She smiled fondly at you as she linked her arm through yours.

“Hey, I’m really gonna miss you. More than that guy over there.” You whispered, nodding towards Andy, who had his head buried in his phone. Dani laughed and nodded in agreement as you continued to walk.

“I’m going to miss you too. You’re my best friend here.” She sighed sadly.

“I’m glad we’re friends. Most women in our position would hate each other.” You thought out loud.

“Uh uh. You’re thinking of women in films. It’s 2021, baby. Women support women. You and I are two talented, smart, beautiful women who would never be caught fighting over some boy. Especially not one who can’t take his eyes off his phone for two seconds.” Dani said loudly and smacked Andy’s arm. You laughed at the domestic moment but couldn’t help feeling a pain in your heart knowing he used to be that way with you.

“What, sorry?” Andy looked up. You and Dani looked at him before looking at each other and laughing.

“What’s funny?” He asked, growing annoyed.

“We’re laughing at you babe. Put your phone away. It’s Y/N’s last night here.” Dani scolded playfully. Andy sighed and reluctantly put his phone in his pocket.

“Right, sorry. And it’s not her last night here. She’s coming back. You are coming back, right?” He asked you. You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure.

“Of course I’ll be back.” You shrugged. “I just want to experience something new for a while. I’ve done a million pieces on homelessness and poverty. I want to see what fresh stories New York has to offer.”

“You’re quoting the Daily Bugle, aren’t you?” Dani teased you.

“That is verbatim what they said to me.” You admitted with a laugh. “But hey, it worked. As of tomorrow, I’m the Daily Bugle’s newest investigative reporter.”

“Who are you reporting on anyway?” Andy showed a rare interest in your work.

“Some guy named Cletus Kasady.” You answered. “He’s some hot shot serial killer down in Queens. No one knows how he’s hiding his victims bodies. Apparently none have ever been close to being found.”

“And they want you to write the story on him?” Andy raised an eyebrow, always with the condescending tone.

“Well they heard about the whole Carlton Drake situation and decided I hadn’t been through enough trauma in my career.” You replied, earning a laugh from Dani but not Andy. You and Andy had already broken up by the time Carlton Drake contracted a symbiote and tried to kill you and Venom. You stopped him before he could hurt anyone and wrote a career defining article on his lethal human experiments. You managed to leave out all information regarding symbiotes from the article, so your secret was still safe. You were a fairly well known reporter since the incident and your next job was waiting for you in New York.

In the morning, You and Venom got on a plane and made your way to New York. Being on a plane with Venom turned out to be the equivalent to traveling with a toddler. You tried to sleep, but every two seconds you had to stop Venom from getting into trouble. She kept trying to open the window, even after you explained to her that everyone on the plane would die horrible death if the window were to open.

“Stop that.” You whispered when you noticed a black tendril creeping towards the window. The lady in the seat next to you shot me a look of confusion. You gave her a fake smile and turned back to the window, doing your best to conceal the small black tendril that was coming out of your body and fidgeting with the airplane window.

“We want it open.” Venom replied telepathically.

“Do you also want us to blow out of the plane and into space?” You said through my teeth.

“We didn’t anticipate that but it’d be appreciated.” Venom answered, making you groan. The rest of the plane ride followed in similar fashion.

Seven hours later, you arrived at the apartment building. You had never been to your dads apartment, you didn’t even know he had one. You wondered what happened to your childhood home as you looked around the place. The apartment wasn’t too small but not too big either. The rent was practically nothing compared to how expensive San Francisco was, and The Daily Bugle offered to cover your expenses until the story was done. You figured after some redecorating and moving in, it would make a fine new home.

The first seven days in the apartment went by smoothly. You unpacked, with little to no help from Venom, and set up the furniture. On the eight day, you sat on the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels in the TV when you had a thought.

“Oh shit.” You said out loud.

“What?” Venom, who was curly nestled around your neck like a neck pillow, asked.

“I forgot mail exists.” You frowned. “We better go check the mailbox before it overflows.”

You and Venom grudgingly walked to the mailboxes and back again. No one was around, so she manifested herself and rested on your shoulder as I looked through the mail.

“Oops. I grabbed someone else’s mail too.” You clicked your tongue when you read a strangers name off the envelope. “I gotta find them.”

“Let’s go.” Venom said and pulled you towards the front door.

“Sorry, babe. This is a me thing, not a we thing. You know I love you but I don’t want to scare our neighbors. Not yet anyway.” You reasoned. Venom grumbled and went back inside your body.

You checked the address of the envelope and discovered that it belonged to the apartment directly across from you.

You knocked on the door and patiently waited for someone to open it as you mindlessly cracked your knuckles. Just as you were about to walk away, the door opened.

“Hi, are you May Parker?” You asked right away. You looked up from the envelope and your face instantly flushed. The person staring back at you definitely wasn’t May Parker. It was a boy around your age, maybe a little younger. He had soft brown eyes and wavy brown hair. It was gelled back loosely and you could see the outline of soft curls. To your surprise, he was just as flushed as you were. You stared at each other for a moment, no one wanting to be the first to blink.

“Yea. I’m May Parker.” The boy said finally. He shut his eyes in embarrassment and shook his head.

“I mean, no I’m not. But that’s my Aunt. May is my Aunt but I’m not May. That’s my Aunt May. I’m her nephew…obviously. Aunt May is my Aunt May. I…what?” He stumbled over his words and somehow turned even redder. His blush reached all the way down his neck, to his blue jumper that read “Midtown Tech” in yellow letters. You recognized the name of one of the most prestigious high schools in New York, already impressed with your new neighbor.

“Well hello, not May Parker. I’m also not May Parker. But I seemed to forget that when I grabbed your mail this morning. Sorry about that.” You said sheepishly as you handed his mail to him. The boy rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at it and attempted to redeem himself.

“It’s not problem. She and I always forget to check the mail so you actually helped us, um, whoever you are.” He smiled weakly. His voice was cute. He had that Queens accent that the people of San Francisco lacked, for obvious reasons.

“Oh, right.” You laughed in embarrassment. “I’m Y/N L/N. I just moved here from San Francisco. I live across the hall.”

You pointed to the door behind you as if he didn’t know what “across the hall” meant. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were never this awkward.

His eyes lit up a bit once you told him where you lived.

“Really? I thought that smelly guy lived there.” The boy said and you stifled a laugh.

“That smelly guy was my father. He died a little while ago so I live there now.” You told him, malign the boys eyes widen. They were so brown. Like little pools of honey. Or little pools of the Hudson River. You had seen a million pairs of brown eyes before, but none like his. They were quite distracting to be honest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I had. I had no idea-“ he began to frantically apologize but you cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it. We never got along. And you’re right, that man stank.” You chuckled. It was the first thing you said that felt like your old self. You hadn’t really talked to anyone since moving to New York, with the exception of Venom and the occasional phone call from Andy or Dani. You liked talking to this boy, though you still had no idea who he was.

“Oh thank God. I thought I screwed this up before it even went anywhere.” He immediately turned red when he heard his own words. You saw the regret in his eyes and decided to throw him a bone.

“Well it certainly can’t go anywhere until you tell me your name.” You flirted. Again, he relaxed. You felt a surge of confidence knowing he wanted this to go well.

“Parker. I’m Parker Peter. I mean, Peter Parker.” He fumbled over his words again, making you smile fondly.

“We like him. He’s cute.” Venom said telepathically. You looked down at my shoes and blushed, knowing you liked him too.

“And he looks delicious.” She added, ruining the moment.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter Parker.” You gave him your best smile. “I’m glad there’s someone my age around here. Everyone I’ve met so far is either an old bitty or a creepy uncle type.” You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. You didn’t know what his sense of humor was like and he might not find you the slightest but funny. Andy always told you you were bad at telling jokes, and you feared he might be right.

Lucky for you, Peter burst out laughing.

“Ah. I’ve seen you’ve met Henry.” Peter pointed a finger down the hall. “Yeah, I’d stay away from him. He asked me if he could have pictures of my feet once. He said he’d “pay me handsomely” for it too.”

“Damn. So he beat me to asking you.” You pretended to be upset, which made Peter laugh again. The sound of his laugh made your heart pick up speed. You weren’t used to feeling like this. Boys rarely impressed you, Andy was just lucky you liked a man in uniform.

“Yeah. You better stay away from him.” Peter advised.

“It might be hard.” You clicked your tongue. “Our mailboxes are pretty close. I’ll make a mental note to never check my mail while wearing flip flops, though.”

Peter smiled at your joke. He had the kind of smile that you would make the person laugh just to see it again. It was brilliant.

“Well my mailbox should be directly above yours. So don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He grinned, and you grinned back.

“My hero.” You gushed as you put your hands over your heart. The tips of his ears went pink, like he was shocked that you said that.

“I’m no hero.” He sounded almost panicked, like you touched a nerve or something.

“We’re hungry. We need to eat.” Venom interrupted abruptly, causing you to jump. Since Peter couldn’t hear her, he looked at you strangely, not knowing the cause of your sudden jolt.

“Sorry, I uh, I thought I saw a spider.” You lied.

“If there was a spider, we’d eat it. We need food. Now.” Venom demanded.

Peter looked up at his doorframe for the imaginary spider.

“Yeah, New York is full of them.” Peter said skeptically. “Not that full, though. And some spiders are nice. One might even call them friendly.”

“Right.” You laughed at his strange wording, unaware that you were both keeping a secret.

“Would…” Peter began but trailed off, seemingly mulling something over in his head. “Would you like to eat dinner with my Aunt and I? I remember when we first moved in, it took us a while to get into the swing of things and make dinner every night. If you like, you could join us. And, you know, we could get to know each other.” He offered. It all came out in one breath. You could tell he was nervous and that only drew you in more.

“I’d love to Peter.” You said, and he smiled in relief.

“Great.” He gave an awkward thumbs up. “We usually eat around six so maybe come around then? She’ll be so happy to meet you. She loves cooking and she always tries to get me to learn but I once burnt cereal and I still don’t know how.” Peter began to ramble. He cut himself off and shook his head again. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

Then, you did something stupid. You put your hand on his arm like the dumb bitch you were. You barely knew this guy. Who the hell were you to touch him? He must’ve been thinking the same thing, since he instantly froze under your touch and stared at your hand on his arm.

“Don’t apologize. I can’t cook either. Unless you count making tater tots as cooking. Then I’m Gordon Ramsey.” You assured him, feeling him relax under your touch.

“You’re just gonna mention tater tots without warning us first? Our mouth is watering. Can we eat Peter?�� Venom asked, making your eyes widen.

If it was socially acceptable to scream at your symbiote in public, you would’ve yelled “NO, WE CANNOT EAT PETER” from the top of your lungs. But since you didn’t want to scare Peter and the rest of the neighbors away, you merely smiled and made another mental note to smack the shit out of Venom later.

“I love that man. “Where is the lamb sauce?” Peter mimicked in a bad British accent. He had no right being as charming as he was.

“No no no.” You shook your head. “His best line is “I’ll get you more pumpkin and I’ll ram it right up your ass. Would you like it whole or diced?”. He’s said some pretty wild things but that one makes me cry.”

Peters laugh rang through the halls. To be the cause of that laugh was a feeling like no other. You stood there for a while, just looking at each other. His eyes grazed down your body, but not in a crude way. You berated yourself for not dressing better when going to meet the neighbors, clad in nothing but a grey hoodie and some leggings. Peter looked cute, but you had a feeling he always did. His jumper was pretty baggy and you could see a collared shirt poking out the top. He was dressed almost professionally and you found it incredibly endearing.

You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to know his secrets and his hobbies and what makes him itch. You wanted to see if he dresses this way on weekends too or what his summer clothes looked like. Your gawking was interrupted by Peters phone ringing. He broke out of his trance and answered it quickly.

“Hi, Mr. S. No I’m not busy. I mean, I’m super busy but I can totally make time for you. Yea, Happy talked to me. Okay. Okay. Where? Okay. See you in a bit.” Peter hung up and looked at you apologetically.

“That was my job. I have to run but I’ll be back in time for our dinner. I live at…you know where I live. I’ll see you then. Don’t be late.” Peter called as he ran down the hallway, towards the elevator.

“I won’t. See you later.” You called back.

You went back to your apartment and like a kid, broke out into a happy dance.

“Venom!! Did you see how cute he was?” You gushed. “And how funny he is? I have to get ready for tonight.”

Venom manifested and swirled around my arm.

“Someone has a crush.” Venom smirked. Well, as much of a smirk as she could muster with that huge mouth of hers.

“I don’t have a crush. I just think he’s cute okay?” You replied coyly. “Cute. And funny and sweet and charming and amazing. But that’s it.”

“We can feel your heart beat.” Venom reminded you. “It was going ten miles an hour. What would Andy say?”

You had been rummaging through your closet and stopped in your tracks. With Peters new inhabitance in your mind, you had forgotten all about Andy. You moved to New York to avoid his wedding and his moving on, and you might’ve succeeded.

“I don’t care what he’d say.” You decided. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But we want him to be.” Venom insisted. “We want him back, remember?”

“I don’t know what I want.” You answered honestly. “I just want to get ready for tonight.”

“Why are you getting ready now? You have 5 hours until you have to be there and it’s right across the hall.” Venom teased.

“Only 5 hours?” You sighed. “We better get moving.”

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part VII (x reader)

Summary: Reader tries to make things right, with a little push from her mama.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: none

a/n: I know, I know— please just let our babies be happy ♥️ and so it was. Also, big ups to my tumblr gf @idmakeitbehave​ for being my beta the past two chapters.

Series Masterlist

———

One week.

That’s how long it had been since their argument. Spencer had driven back to his apartment in silence, absolutely stunned by the way things had blown up.

They’d gotten back from the case in Utah on the fifth of January, and he’d driven straight to Y/N’s, ready to give her a belated New Year’s kiss. Immediately upon entering her apartment, he knew something was wrong. Her hug was stiff, her kiss brief, her eye contact minimal. He’d spent the night, but they barely touched, and she left early for work without waking him. He’d let himself out and texted her later in the day to invite her over for dinner.

Dinner hadn’t been any less awkward, and when he felt awkward, he knew it was bad. He finally couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he’d called it out. He had expected some resistance, but he hadn’t expected that. Y/N never spoke to him with any malice at all, even when he was actually doing something that irritated her. She was the queen of healthy communication. So for her to speak to him like that meant that the underlying issue was much, much worse than he’d originally thought.

He’d gone over their conversations a thousand times, looking desperately for the moment that it went wrong. After some deep consideration, he was certain that something had happened on New Year’s Eve. He just wasn’t sure what. Y/N was insistent that she wasn’t bothered by the declined call, but he still wished he could go back in time and answer it. He was pretty sure the seeds of their argument had sprouted in that moment, regardless of what she said.

Spencer knew she was a creature of habit, and that sometimes she needed space to process and experience her emotions. And if he was being honest, he needed some space after the argument, too. But usually she would have at least texted him by now.

He sighed and set down his newspaper, realizing he’d read the same page four times and hadn’t retained any of it. It was Friday, and he knew she was working. But still his fingers itched to dial her number. He picked up the phone, pressing a key to light up the screen yet again.

No new messages.

He dropped the phone back to the table with a little more force than was necessary. He decided he’d give her the rest of the weekend. If he didn’t hear from her by Sunday, he’d have to do something.

…

Y/N dropped her bag on the floor inside the door and turned to lock the deadbolt. She had managed to sneak out of the building without being stopped by Anita, and she thanked the universe for small miracles.

She didn’t want to have to explain herself. She didn’t want anyone to know what an absolute troll she’d been. Considering that Sam and Spencer had practically become attached at the hip since they’d started hanging out more, Anita was bound to ask about him.

She showered and ordered Thai food, snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie with Roald. She settled on Dumplin’— a favorite for the body positivity, the southern drawls, and the Dolly Parton drag.

And then she came to the argument outside of Harpy’s and lost what little emotional stability she had left.

“Never took you for the type that cares much what people think.”

“I can’t, Bo. And that might make me a coward, but—”

“It does. Willowdean Dixon, I think you’re beautiful. To hell with anyone who’s ever made you feel less than that.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until Roald meowed in distress. She choked out a sob and stroked over his ears, closing her eyes in defeat. “I really fucked this up, huh?”

It had only been one week, but it felt like years since Spencer walked out of her apartment. She’d stayed in bed for the entire weekend, crying on and off. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. Owen had knocked over the first domino, but she’d done nothing to stop the rest from falling.

Spencer had done everything right. He’d done everything she asked, and she’d thrown it all back in his face. He had made the comparison to Mitchell Park, and he was absolutely right. She’d done the exact same thing, only she had almost a year’s worth of ammunition, and she cut a hell of a lot deeper.

Roald nuzzled against her, but she nudged him away— she didn’t even deserve the comfort. Instead, she fumbled in the couch cushions for her phone, swiping open the screen and tapping her favorites list, thumb hovering over Spencer’s name. Then she tapped on the name right above it and blew out a breath.

The line connected and rang three times before she picked up. “Hey, sugar! Your ears must be ringin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about callin’ you.”

“Hey, mama,” Y/N breathed.

Her mother’s tone changed from chipper to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong, baby?”

She leaned forward to the coffee table to grab Spencer’s scarf— somehow left behind in her apartment— rubbing it between her fingers. “I— I really messed up.”

“Oh, Lord. You need bail money?”

Despite herself, Y/N laughed wetly. “Oh my god , mama. No, I don’t need bail money.”

“Well, if you made bail it can’t be that bad,” Rose insisted.

“I didn’t— I’m not in jail, for Christ’s sake.” Y/N ran a hand over her face. “I messed things up with Spencer.”

“Well, we can fix that,” Rose responded matter of factly. “What happened?”

“We were fighting, and I said some really, really awful things,” Y/N admitted, tears spilling over her lash line.

Rose scoffed. “Honey, I say awful things to your father all the time, and we’ve been married almost 40 years.”

Y/N heaved a long sigh. “Not like this, mama.”

Her mother hummed in consideration. “Well, what were y’all fightin’ about?”

“It’s complicated,” Y/N hedged, toying with the fringe of the scarf.

Rose clicked her tongue. “Do ya want my help or not?”

Y/N dropped her head back against the couch. “I ran into Owen on New Year’s Eve—”

“Well, I hope you told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Rose practically growled.

Y/N closed her eyes as the tears tracked hot down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I— I let him get under my skin, and then I didn’t want to tell Spencer about it because it’s embarrassing, but he knew something was wrong, and he wouldn’t stop asking about it.” She had to pause and suck in a hiccuping breath, releasing it on a sob. “So I yelled at him and said all kinds of terrible things, and then he left, and now I think maybe we broke up, and I’ve literally never been so sad in my whole life.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then she heard Rose sniffling. “Really shoulda had your brothers knock the mess out of that son of bitch when we had the chance. He's been gone five years, and he’s still hurtin’ you every chance he gets.”

Y/N swiped uselessly at the tear tracks on her cheeks, sniffling pathetically. “And now I hurt the person who’s spent the last year singlehandedly undoing all of his awful handiwork.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rose cooed. Y/N could hear the creak of the floorboards as her mother walked through her childhood home. “You said he knew somethin’ was wrong, right? I can almost guarantee that he’s still just wonderin’ what’s goin’ on. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s still a man. And men are dumb, sugar. You gotta spell it out for ‘em. Have you talked to him since?”

“No.” Fresh tears spilled over Y/N’s lashes as the thoughts that had kept her from calling him spilled out of her mouth. “What if it was too far? What if I ruined everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?”

Ross heaved out a long breath. “That’s a lot of what ifs, Y/N.”

“What if I’m right?” she whispered.

“And what if you’re not?” Rose countered. “That boy loves you. Anyone could see that, clear as day. He’d do just about anything for you.” Rose paused, and Y/N heard the springs of the bed squeak as she sat. “But you gotta let him, sweetheart. Right now you’re takin’ away his chance to do that. You’re makin’ the decision for him.”

Y/N listened as her mother’s advice crackled over the line, and for the first time in a week, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.

“If he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, you need to let him tell you that. Don’t settle for a what if. Find out for sure, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life worryin’ and wonderin’, sugar.”

…

That evening found Spencer in his usual spot on the couch, reclined against the arm with a book in hand. He’d promised himself he’d give Y/N the weekend to herself— that he’d let her come to him. That didn’t stop him from checking his phone obsessively; it never buzzed with any new calls or messages, but he still looked every seven minutes.

The sound of the buzzer jolted his body to attention. He checked his watch and drew his brows together before closing his book and scrambling to cross to the intercom, a tiny seed of hope beginning to germinate. He pressed the button to talk, calling, “Yes?” into the speaker box and then listening for the response.

“Hi.”

Her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the crackle of the speaker. He buzzed her in without hesitation, crossing to the door and opening it immediately. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning at the top of the landing and pausing.

His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked utterly exhausted, dressed in black sweatpants and a soft purple sweater, a black puffer jacket over top. She was holding his scarf, wringing it in between her hands. Her eyes were ringed red, and the bags under them were worse than his.

He watched as she crossed the landing, coming to stand quietly in front of him. He’d known something was wrong, but the way she looked now made him wonder just how long she’d been battling whatever private demons she wouldn’t let him in on.

“I, um.” She cleared her throat, and it was clear she’d been crying from the thickness of her voice. “I have a lot to say— again. But since I was such an asshole, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say anything you need to say first.”

He’d imagined this conversation countless times over the last week, and never once had he thought it would start like this. “Um. Well. You— you really hurt me.”

She could barely look at him. “I know.”

He swallowed. “Please don’t do that again.”

She shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t. I won’t ever again.”

Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “I know I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m a pretty good profiler. And I can tell when something’s wrong.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just asking you to tell me when I do something that makes you upset.”

“You— you didn’t do anything wrong. I—” He watched her squeeze her eyes shut. “God, I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m just— I’m sorry for so many things. For lying about being fine, for being up on my high horse about communicating and then not actually doing it, for being an absolute bitch.”

He wanted to argue— she wasn’t a bitch— but he could tell she was far from done.

“I— I thought therapy was supposed to teach me how to talk about things, but this still feels… impossible to say out loud,” she admitted, fingers fumbling with the fabric of the scarf. “It’s embarrassing and ridiculous. But I— I have deep-seated insecurities. That I’m not really that smart or interesting or particularly special.”

He thought back to that night in Mitchell Park and felt the guilt all over again. He’d practically said those exact words to her— it was no wonder she was feeling this way.

“And every person that I’ve ever been with has— really reinforced those ideas, so for a long time they were just… a set part of my self-image,” she explained, dragging a hand over her messy hair. “I thought— I thought that I was over it, but I— I don’t know. Maybe you never really are.”

His brain sorted through every moment of their year together, pinging off the countless examples of her self-doubt and insecurity. She was easily the most wonderful person he knew, but he could clearly see the cracks in the facade if he looked close enough. How had he missed it for so long?

“And then I met you, and you…” Y/N let out a wry laugh. “You’re easily the most interesting person I’ve ever met, but you made me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m interesting, too. Like I’m worthy of being with you, like I’m— like I’m good enough.”

He felt his heart splintering into a thousand tiny shards— good enough?

“But I can’t— I still have a hard time believing it sometimes. And I— I’ve been letting myself keep you at arms length. Letting you see parts of me, but… never giving you everything,” she admitted.

He watched her struggle to get the words out, her voice thick with the act of holding back sobs. He hadn’t realized she was carrying all of this. She was so good at supporting him and loving him through all of his trauma and issues, he hadn’t stopped to consider just how much she needed him, too.

She continued, “It’s why I took so long to say I love you… why I couldn’t talk to you last week. Because I just—” She shrugged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to realize that I’m really nothing special. That you’re getting bored, or there’s someone who’s a better fit for you, or one million other things. That I’m needy, and annoying, and too much work.”

A fresh tear tracked down her cheek, and he felt his own eyes filling. She never failed to put a stop to his own insecurities— reminding him that she liked his rambling, that he wasn’t irritating, that he was just the right amount. In his eyes, she was perfect. He would have never guessed she felt this way about herself.

She continued, “That’s what happened before, and none of those guys were even half as wonderful as you are.” She swiped a hand haphazardly over her cheeks, looking at him sheepishly. “And then I was hurtful and awful, and I realized that I was just creating a self fulfilling prophecy and I don’t— I don’t want to do that.”

Her hand shook a little as she brought it back down to twist in his scarf. “Because it’s never— I’ve never felt like this. I've never been this happy with anyone else, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up. Even if sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough.”

Her voice cracked on a stifled cry, and his chest physically ached. “And if you never want to see me again, I completely understand, and I’ll leave you alone, but I— I’m just so sorry. And I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard to be better.” She sucked in a ragged breath and let it out on an exhausted sigh. “And that’s, um— that’s it. If you want me to go, I—”

“I don’t want you to go,” he interrupted.

Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”

“Of course not.” Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. “Of course not. C’mere.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, she was tumbling into his arms with a choked off sob. He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, walking her to the couch and sitting them both down. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear into thin air.

“Y/N, I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But if you n-need space, I understand,” she sobbed.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need space. I think a week was long enough, don’t you?” he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair.

She pulled back out of the hug, head down. “But I really hurt you.”

He held her hand. “Yeah. And I really hurt you, too.”

She huffed out a breath. “That’s not how this works. I don’t get to hurt you just because you hurt me.”

“I know that.” He almost laughed at how indignant she sounded. “I’m not saying that we should hurt each other. I’m saying that sometimes it happens. And when it does, we apologize, and we forgive, and we move forward. And it’s okay if you need space. But I don’t.”

“What if you change your mind?” she whispered.

“Then I promise I’ll tell you.” Spencer tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you what I need, as long as you tell me, too. We’ve gotta use all those communication skills we learn in therapy.”

Y/N nodded, and he pulled her into another hug. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “If I hadn’t heard from you by Sunday, I was planning to bother you until you talked to me.”

He could feel the beginning of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth where it was pressed to his shoulder. “You never bother me,” she mumbled. She held him for a moment longer and then released him from the hug and sat back, fidgeting with her hands and letting out a breath.

“Sometimes I need to be told that my worst fears about myself aren’t true,” she admitted. “I know that’s so annoying, but—”

“It’s not annoying,” he interrupted, putting an immediate stop to that line of thought. “Telling you how amazing you are isn’t the chore that you think it is. I’m sorry that anyone ever convinced you that it was.”

He covered her hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs softly along her skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dealing with all of this by herself. He hated that she’d ever felt anything less than adored. More than anything, he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her through it. And he wanted to make sure that he never made that mistake again.

“A wise man told me once... that love is helping someone navigate their storms,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. She looked at him then, and he continued, “You’ve been my lighthouse for a long time, Y/N. And I— I’m trying desperately to be yours… But you have to let me.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. He let out a long breath and pulled her hands into his lap. “I understand that sometimes you need space, and that’s fine. I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”

He shook his head. “Just— please don’t try to weather the storm by yourself. You can’t do it all alone; no one can.” He smiled ruefully. “I can tell you from experience that’s pretty much a guaranteed way to capsize your boat.”

His voice cracked a little at the end, and he felt a tear slip over his lash line. “I’ll help you repair your boat, or build a new one, or you can just float on mine for a while. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty sturdy, I think.”

She brought her fingers up to brush at his damp cheeks, and he met her eyes. “What I’m not going to do is let you float out on the ocean by yourself. I love you too much.”

She was quiet for a long moment, sniffling a little and just watching him— almost like she couldn’t believe he was there. She brought her hand back to his and laced their fingers together, rubbing her thumb along his skin. “I love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Want some tea?”

She was frowning when he pulled back, her brows drawn together. “I need to tell you about Owen.”

The conversation he’d had with Anita was suddenly on replay in Spencer’s head.

… a real piece of shit… telling her lies about herself… isolating her… destroying her from the inside out...

He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head. “Talking about him takes away his power. I have to stop letting him have so much sway over my emotions.” She looked at him then. “I do things I regret and hurt people I love.”

He brought their joined hands up his lips. “Well, I’m here either way. And I’m still going to make you some tea.”

He stood and pulled her up with him, bringing her into the kitchen and refusing to let go of her hand. He filled the kettle and turned it on, found a bag of her favorite tea and ripped it open with his teeth. He dropped the bag into her favorite mug, and then made a mug up for himself.

“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you’d let go,” she said, the hint of a smile in her voice.

“Mhm,” he agreed, but he made no move to release her hand. In fact, once he’d fumbled a spoonful of honey into each of the cups, he dropped the spoon into her mug and turned to pull her into another hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and closed his eyes as she brought her arms around his waist. “I missed you,” he whispered.

She squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too. I’m so sorry.”

She buried her face in his neck, and he felt her breathe him in. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder and then settled his chin again. “Apology accepted, in case it wasn’t clear.”

They stood like that until the kettle began to whistle, and then Spencer kept her tucked underneath his arm as he turned to shut it off and pour the water into the mugs. They each grabbed a mug, making their way back to the couch and setting them on the coffee table to steep. Spencer kept their fingers intertwined and stayed quiet, letting her set the pace of the conversation.

Y/N took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I guess I should start at the beginning. I, um— I had my first boyfriend in high-school: Cal Cunningham. He was older and cooler, and so I felt— I don’t know… special when he picked me.” She rolled her eyes. “In reality, he was rude, and arrogant, and kind of a misogynist. We didn’t date for very long, but it kind of… set me up on this path of dating guys who weren’t very nice.”

Spencer ran his thumb soothingly along hers, waiting for her to continue. “When I started college, I dated this guy Adam for a few months. He was nice enough but really self-centered and a little immature. When we broke up I just wanted to be on my own for a while.”

“I was single for two years after that, just kind of… finding myself and whatever.” Her eyes tracked the path his thumb traced along her skin. “So when I started dating Owen at the end of junior year, it felt like my first real relationship. Like— we were both adults, and he dressed up for our dates, and he paid for things and bought me flowers and fit all the cliches.”

“And it was great at first,” she admitted. “We had a lot of the same friends, so we’d been hanging out for a while before we got together. He was a perfect gentleman— and smart, accomplished, and ambitious. I fell fast, and I fell hard, and we were sort of— it feels so stupid to say this, but it felt like we were an it couple.”

“A few of us made plans to move to DC after graduation— my friend Jess and her boyfriend Chris, Sam and Anita,” she explained. “And Owen and I, obviously. We moved in together in an apartment downtown. And that’s when everything changed.”

She drew her brows together. “It was little things at first. Like he’d jokingly call me stupid for forgetting something, or he’d complain about one of my friends being annoying. But it snowballed pretty quickly. He’d tell me I was stupid, and he wasn’t joking. All of my friends irritated him to the point where we couldn’t hang out anymore— even our former mutual friends. He thought that teaching kindergarten was a mindless, pointless job.”

Spencer tried to keep his heart rate steady, his facial expressions neutral, but his blood pressure was on the rise. No one deserved to be spoken to like that, least of all Y/N.

She continued, “We spent the holidays at my parents’ the second year we were dating, and he spent the entire car ride home explaining, in detail, how ridiculous and low-class he thought everything was.”

She shook her head and rubbed her free hand over her face. “I know it’s insane that I stayed with him for five years, but I— he did a really good job of convincing me that I was... that I was nothing. That he was doing me a favor by loving me. That he could have anyone, but he chose me. No one else was going to, so I should be grateful.”

He balled his free hand into a fist to avoid squeezing her to death. When Anita had said Owen was a piece of shit… he hadn’t realized just how deeply she meant it.

She picked at the fabric of her sweatpants, staring intently at the tiny pills. “When someone says all of that to you on a daily basis, and you’re not hearing otherwise from anyone else— because no one knew what was going on— when someone tells you you’re nothing… you start to believe it.”

Spencer relaxed his fist to bring his fingers up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead in a voiceless assurance that she was, in fact, everything. He felt her relax under the warm pressure of his lips, and he hoped that was enough for now.

He sat back to let her continue. “We were together for five years, and we only broke up because he cheated on me. It was a long term affair; they were sleeping together for almost a year before I found out. And… a lot of people knew. Almost all of his friends knew. But I didn’t. I was still being this ridiculous, desperate little Suzy Homemaker trying to make him happy, even though he was still treating me like shit.”

She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “When I found out, I wasn’t even hurt. I was… embarrassed, I guess. But I was so relieved. I was so fucking relieved that I had a way out.”

He watched as her shoulders settled, almost like an actual weight had been lifted off of them. “I got a therapist and dropped all of the friends that were still hanging around with him. I moved to a new neighborhood, started hanging out with Anita and Sam, and just— started fresh. And I was doing really well. I’ve had my moments of insecurity here and there, but for the most part, I’ve been able to recognize the moments when I’m falling back into old thought patterns.”

She looked at him then, and her eyes were so soft and lovely that his heart ached. “You’re a big reason for that. You’re so open with how you feel about me, and… it makes things a lot easier.” She dropped her gaze with a sigh. “But I— he was at the party on New Year's. And I didn’t know he was going to be there until I was already there , and then it felt stupid to leave. I thought I could handle it—”

“And then I didn’t answer your call.”

“No, no .” She shook her head and reached her free hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s— Spencer, none of this is your fault.” She furrowed her brow, and the crease between them was practically an abyss. “He sort of— cornered me on the patio. I hadn’t seen him in like, four years? And he was complimenting me, and asking about you, and then he tried to— well, he did kiss me actually. I shoved him off, and he didn’t like that, and he did his whole Owen thing. Told me that he’d cheated because I was uninteresting and worthless. That eventually you’d get bored of me, too. Just, um— generally awful shit.”

She took a deep breath, and the rest steamrolled off her tongue and over his heart. “And then he just— left . And he’d absolutely demolished my self-image in less than ten minutes, and I was embarrassed and angry at myself, and then you didn’t answer, but I was kind of glad you didn’t because I didn’t actually want to talk about it. And I thought I could just move on, but then I was being weird, and you knew something was wrong. And I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, but then you kept pressing me on it, and I just— I didn’t want to have to explain it all to you because I was afraid that— that maybe he was right.”

Y/N dissolved back into the couch, an unwelcome indication of the emotional exhaustion that came with reliving trauma. Spencer moved closer and mirrored the position of her body against the cushions, bringing his face close enough to bump their noses together. They breathed the same air for one noiseless minute before she finally met his eyes.

“I need you to understand that not one single thing he said to you— on New Year’s or ever— was right, in either sense of the word. None of it was factual, and none of it was acceptable.”

She gave him a weary nod, and he continued, “You are the single best person that I know. You’re kind, brilliant, and driven. You’re interesting, and wonderful, and lovely. You’re my absolute favorite person on the planet, and I will never get bored of you.”

He let his eyes trace over all the angles and curves of her face, and then raised his eyebrows. “He’s lucky that I respect you enough not to go over your head, because what I’d like to do is run a full background check and find any and every possible transgression that could be legally investigated and then use that information to ruin his life.” He tilted his head in thought. “That or— get really jacked and then beat the shit out of him.”

“God, please don’t. As much as I’d love to watch that unfold,” she cupped his face in her hand, “you’re better than that. And he’s not worth either of our energies… I already wasted enough time dwelling on it and hurt you in the process.” She dropped her hand back to her lap with a sigh. “I spent so much time in that relationship that my brain didn’t know what to do with this good, healthy one.”

He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tight and then pressing a kiss to the back of each. He wouldn’t commit assault, since she’d asked him not to. But he wasn’t going to let Owen taint any part of his life with her.

“I’m so sorry that someone you loved made you think it was hard to love you. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed his lips together and mused, “But I think maybe love has a learning curve. Especially when you’re used to being hurt. You have to unlearn all the bullshit. People will have you thinking that you have to water yourself down, or change who you are, or make yourself more palatable. I thought that, too.”

He brushed her hair back away from her face and waited for her to meet his eyes. “And then I met you. And you love all of it— all of me. All the rambling, all the quirks, and— even the dark parts, too.”

She sniffled a little, but really smiled for the first time that night. “What’s not to love about you?”

He smiled back. “I’m not sure if you realize that I fully reciprocate that feeling. What’s not to love about you? I have a hard time thinking of even one thing about you that I don’t absolutely adore.”

“Even when I act like a horrid bitch?” she mumbled, only half joking.

He leaned his head against the couch cushion. “A year ago, you stood on my doorstep and gave me forgiveness— after I’d been a complete asshole to you... I told you then that I wanted to learn how to love with you. I still do. In all the wonderful, and the weird, and the terrible. Even when we get it wrong.”

He shrugged, and then ran a soft fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “There is no one else I’d rather get it wrong with. Because when we get it right… it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to magic.”

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she brought both hands up to his face, holding him with an adoration that made his own eyes burn. “You can believe that you love me the most,” she whispered, “but just know that you’re wrong.”

He leaned forward to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to her lips with a reverence that felt technicolor and devout and more magical than any trick he’d ever mastered.

“Agree to disagree.”

———

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[alinastracker]

for the prompt thing: 62 or 69 <3

you got it bb <3

prompt: I wanted to tell you that I liked you before prom but chickened out and now we’re about to graduate college and I can’t hold it in any longer

i can’t fight this feeling any longer (and yet i’m still afraid to let it flow)

"Mal, I love you."

Alina frowns, shakes her head, and tries again.

"Mal, you've been my best friend for so long, and I love our friendship, but you see, I'm also head over heels in love with you."

She blows out a frustrated breath, her newly chopped bangs briefly floating off of her forehead. Telling her best friend of nearly six years she’s in love with him should not be the number one thing on her mind right now. It’s graduation day, for Saints sake. A day she hadn’t been sure she would ever see. But all she can think about is Mal.

She had met him on one of the worst days of her life. Alina had been transferred to a new foster home in the middle of her junior year of high school. There were few things worse in adolescent life than moving to a new school in the middle of the year — especially in high school, in a small town where everyone seemed to know each other. 

Alina had walked the halls that day clutching onto the straps of her backpack, late to nearly every class because her sense of direction was shit, and had even gone as far as to eat lunch in the bathroom like a stereotypical teen movie, the thought of walking into the cafeteria with all those eyes on her nearly ruining her appetite entirely. She had been stared at enough as it was. 

Her last class of the day was art, and she was praying for it to be the reprieve she so desperately needed. If only she could fucking find it. The warning bell rang, heightening her already raised anxiety. Alina took a corner too fast and slammed right into a wall. No, not a wall — a boy. 

“I’m so sorry!” she blurted, scrambling to her knees to help pick up the papers she made him drop. 

“All good,” the boy reassured her.

Once the two of them had the papers off the floor, Alina looked up and nearly dropped them again. She was looking into the warm brown eyes of possibly the hottest guy she had ever laid eyes on. He had a strong, defined jaw, grown out hair that wasn’t too shaggy, but still long enough to run her fingers through. And Saints, his lips. She was already imagining what those lips would feel like, subconsciously licking her own. 

One side of the boy’s mouth quirked up, just a hint of a smirk, like he was used to having this effect on people. Shit, had he noticed her staring? Say something, Alina. 

“Um, sorry,” she managed finally, handing him the pile of collected papers. 

He chuckled. “You said that already.”

She tried a laugh of her own, but it came out all wrong, choppy and nervous. “Right.” 

The boy stood to his full height, and for fucks sake, he had to be tall, too? She rose from her knees and he still towered over her. It was extremely attractive. 

“So you’re the new girl,” he said, not a question but a statement. “I’ve heard murmurings about you today.”

“Murmurings?” 

“Nothing bad. It’s just a small town. When someone new shows up, people notice.” He smiled, stuck out his hand. It took everything in her not to think about how long his fingers were. “I’m Mal.”

She took his hand, her own so tiny in comparison. “Alina.”

“Nice to meet you, Alina. Where are you headed?”

“220B? History of Traditional Art.”

Mal nodded. “Well, I can’t say that’s a room I’m super familiar with. I’m a shit artist. These hands are much better for other activities.” Her eyes must have widened, revealing just how filthy her mind was, because he quickly added, “Sports! I meant sports!”

A look passed between them, and then they were both laughing. It felt so good to laugh after the day she’d had. 

“Anyway,” Mal continued, “I can help you find your way. I might not visit the art hall often, but I know my way around.”

Alina shot him another pointed look, and Mal groaned. “My way around the school! Saints, I’m really shooting myself in the foot as far as first impressions go, aren’t I?”

She grinned, but only said, “You’ll be late for class.” The final bell was going to ring any second. 

Mal waved her off. “That’s all right. What poor representation of Stag Spirit would I be if I let the new girl walk around like a lost puppy? And besides,” he shot her a grin to match her own, “we can’t have you running around, terrorizing other kids and their poor papers now, can we?”

Alina let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “I said I was sorry!”

He turned, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Did you? Must have missed it.”

She shot daggers in his direction, but she smiled the whole way to the art room. The next day, she dared to actually step into the cafeteria for lunch. People were still staring, but after yesterday, she expected it. Part of her was hoping she would find Mal in the crowded space, but she doubted it would matter even if she did. After some social media stalking last night, Alina had discovered what she should have known from the start — Mal was popular. He would already have a flock around him, friends he had known since childhood, who were just like him — attractive, athletic, alien to a kid like Alina who preferred quiet cafes and sketchpads to football fields and pompoms. He had been nice to her yesterday, sure, but that didn’t mean—

“Alina!”

Her head popped up, scanning the sea of tables until she saw him, standing and waving her over. Sure enough, Mal was at a table filled with pretty, sociable looking people. But there was a space open next to him, and she realized with a little jump of her heart that he had saved that space for her. 

It was the start of the fastest and fiercest friendship she would ever have. Mal was popular and sporty, yes, but he was also kind, funny, smart — and most surprising, had grown up in the foster care system, too. Alina made friends with his friends, a few of her own from her art class, but none of them matched what she grew with Mal. Suddenly she was a football field kind of girl, dressing from head to toe in school colors for each match, cheering for her best friend so loud she gave the cheer squad a run for their money. Over the next year and half, they were entirely attached at the hip. 

And while it had truly started as a friendship, by the time senior prom came around, Alina had to face the fact: she was head over heels for the boy. Hell, she had noticed how attractive he was from that first fateful meeting. Mix that with how genuinely good she knew he was — how caring, how attentive, how it felt to have his head rest on her shoulder as he fell asleep during a movie; who could blame her for falling for him? 

“You have to tell him!” her friend from art class, Yelena, had insisted. 

“I know, I know.” She sighed. “I’ll do it at prom.”

They were going as a group — her, Mal, Mikhael, Dubrov, Yelena, and a few others from their meshed circle of friends, brought together by the two of them. But Mal had still matched his tie to her dress, a stunning royal blue. Mal had still bought her a corsage — a delicate thing of mostly blue irises, her favorite flower. He was not her date, yet in every way except in name, it felt like he was, and Alina basked in the feeling. 

But as song after song played, Alina found herself backing out each time she tried to approach him. Yelena was shooting pointed looks at her all night, murmuring as she passed her, “You’re running out of time.”

Then a punky pop song came on, one of her and Mal’s favorites. She called him over. “Dance with me!” she exclaimed, and laughed as he all but pulled her onto the dance floor. Neither of them were good dancers, but they were enthusiastic, at least with each other. As the song neared its end, Alina sucked in a breath.

“Mal, I have to tell you something.”

He raised a brow, waiting for her to speak. The song ended, and their principal took to the stage. “All right folks, it’s time to announce your prom king and queen!”

Everyone was cheering and turning to the stage, but Mal was still looking at her, still waiting for her answer.

Alina opened her mouth, closed it, then finally said, “Thank you for the corsage. I really love it.”

Mal gave her a quizzical look, lips tugging down — and was that disappointment in his eyes? Before she could fully read him, his face smoothed, his usual charmed smile returning. “Of course, Lina.” 

“And your prom king is,” the principal was saying, “Malyen Oretsev!”

The crowd roared. Mal’s smile turned sheepish, and he took to the stage to accept his crown. Ruby was named prom queen, to no one’s surprise. Alina watched them dance together in the middle of the room to a romantic song that would now forever be ruined for her. A little later that night, Mal came up to her, said, “You can get a ride home with Yelena, right?” He motioned behind him, flushing a little even as he grinned, to where Ruby was waiting. “I’m gonna head out.”

Alina swallowed the stupid lump in her throat and nodded. Mal pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and then he was gone. She would spend the night at Yelena’s, crying on her shoulder that she had missed her chance — if she’d ever had one to begin with. Because of course Mal would choose Ruby. Beautiful, blond Ruby, much more his equal than Alina could ever be. 

Graduation came, and it was happy. But in all of the pictures and celebrations was Ruby — no longer just captain of the cheer squad Ruby, but Mal’s girlfriend Ruby. She watched them partake in a summer romance that she was guiltily happy to see fizzle out once college came and split them apart. Luckily, her and Mal were off to Os Alta University together, home of the Firebirds. They forged a new friend group there: the twins, Tolya and Tamar, Nadia, David, Genya, Zoya, Nikolai. Mal didn’t really date freshman year, sticking to little flings that Alina told herself didn’t matter. In sophomore year, the tension between him and Zoya finally snapped, and the two of them had a brief . . . something together. 

Of course, Alina had her own dabbles in romance — Alexei being the sweetest, Aleksander nearly making her swear off men all together. Her next two flings were with women, both because she had finally fully accepted her bisexuality and because she truly had lost trust in the male species. She even made out with Nikolai a couple times, but they had both just been using each other. They’d spent one night in a club so obnoxiously all over one another that Zoya had stormed out. Her thing with Mal had been off and on at that point, and the next morning, she texted him that they were off for good. 

Two weeks later, Nikolai and Zoya were dating. Mal was single. 

And still, she hadn’t made a move. 

Alina stares in the mirror now, watching the tassel on her graduation cap sway back and forth. In an hour, she’ll be moving it from the right to the left and leave Os Alta University in the rear window. It hadn’t been easy getting here — nothing is easy for a foster care kid, especially one who wants to be an artist. But she’s done it. She’s graduating with top honors. Saints, she even has a job lined up. Everything she worried about growing up — making a future for herself, being swallowed by the system, figuring out who she is without the guidance of her birth parents — she has faced all of it head on. At every step, she’s run after what she’s wanted and grabbed it by the hands until it was hers.

Everything except Mal. 

And try as she might, she can’t imagine a future without him in it.

He’s not seeing anyone — for now. Last night he texted her, laughing about how Ruby of all people had hit him up. She’s going to be in the city this weekend, apparently, and asked if he wanted to get a drink. It felt like prom all over again.

“Alina, come on!” Genya calls. “We’re going to be late!”

“Coming!” she calls back.

Alina follows Genya and Zoya down to the car, sits numbly in the backseat as they drive to the giant building holding their graduation ceremony. 

“Look alive, Starkov,” Zoya says as they get out of the car, linking their arms. “Today is for happy things. New beginnings.”

Genya takes her other arm. “No pouting about boys unless you’re going to do something about it.”

She smiles, and for a little while, it’s not forced. There’s a rush of excitement as they walk inside and find their seats. Genya isn’t too far off from her, but Zoya’s a few rows ahead. In the rows between them, still too far to talk to but not too far to make out the back of his head, is Mal. He’s talking to the guy next to him, even though she’s pretty sure he doesn’t know him. But that’s Mal, blooming wherever he’s planted.

Alina knows she shouldn’t, but the ceremony hasn’t started yet, so she stands and calls out, “Mal!” 

Somehow, he hears her over all the ruckus around them. The smile he gives her has her heart beating double time. “I’ll find you after!” he shouts back, though of course, she already knew that. Mal always finds her.

As the ceremony starts and a handful of different people come up to make speeches, she finds herself slipping into her thoughts from earlier. In her head, she sees Mal and Ruby, meeting for that drink. They pick up right where they left off. Ruby moves to the city, moves in with Mal. Alina’s there through all of it, supporting Mal like she always has, always will. On the sidelines she stays, watching him as he gets married and has ridiculously beautiful babies. None of it is real, not yet, but the thought is so painful she has tears in her eyes. 

Well, at least she can blame the tears on emotional graduation bullshit as she watches her friends walk the stage, cheering for each of them even though they’re not supposed to. Tamar and Tolya, the latter looking pretty emotional himself. David, who walks quickly even though he’s probably the most awarded student of the whole graduating class. Nikolai, who dramatically presses a kiss to the hand of the Os Alta University President after she hands him his diploma. Zoya, who walks the stage as if she owns it. 

Then Mal’s name is called, and she cheers so loud she’s pretty sure he hears it, if the grin on his face is any indication. Genya crosses, graceful as always. When her own name is called, she’s not expecting much. She has no family here save from the one she forged for herself. But as she walks, she can hear a very distinct cheer from a very distinct voice, and butterflies swarm drunkenly in her stomach. 

In the minutes that pass between her walking the stage and the last name being called — poor Nadia —Alina knows what she’s going to do. No backing out this time.

“Congratulations, Class of 2021!”

Everyone cheers, and graduation caps go flying through the air. Alina tosses hers with everyone else, and then she takes off, pushing through her classmates as they jump and shout, running until she finds the right row, forces herself through the bodies in her way, until she’s in front of him. Until she’s found Mal. 

“Alina,” he says in surprise. “What are you—”

“Don’t get a drink with Ruby.”

Mal frowns. “What?”

“I said don’t get a drink with Ruby!” she says, louder this time.

“I heard you. I’m just confused.” He shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair. “Why shouldn’t I have a drink with Ruby, and why did you run to tell me this right now?”

Because I’ve been in love with you from the first moment I saw you. 

Because I wanted to tell you at prom, but I chickened out. 

Because I’ve watched you kiss other girls for almost six years now, and I can’t stand to just watch any longer.

Alina doesn’t say any of that. Instead, she presses onto her tip toes, takes his face between her hands, and kisses him. 

Mal stiffens, but doesn’t give her time to worry before he relaxes again, pulling her body against his, lifting her so she doesn’t have to stretch so far anymore. All around them are the happy cheers of a group of people at the end of one road stepping onto another. Families in the stands hoot and holler for their children, wipe tears and think, they made it. 

But for Alina, it’s like being in a room where nothing exists except her and Mal, her best friend, her constant, the most important person in her life. She’s kissing him, she’s finally kissing him, and he’s kissing her back as if he’s been waiting for six years to do this, too. Like maybe he’s wanted her all along.

“Alina,” he breathes when their lips part, their foreheads pressed together instead. “Thank the bloody Saints.”

She giggles, actually fucking giggles, like a lovestruck school girl. “I’ve wanted this since prom. Before, even.”

Mal smiles, shakes his head the tiniest bit. “Me too.”

They laugh, so close that they’re breathing each other in. Two idiots, that’s what they are. But there’s no room to groan about what could’ve been sooner, no room to drown in regrets. They are young, and there is only room for joy in knowing they have the rest of their lives to make up for lost time. Starting now. Their lips meet again. Mal is steady and warm against her. He feels like home. It’s everything she’s ever imagined. It’s better. 

Alina can see her future so clearly now, because she knows no matter what comes next, she’ll have Mal beside her to navigate through it.

He is all she’s ever wanted — her forever person, who won’t leave when she’s being unreasonable, who’s love is not conditional. He is all she’ll ever need.  

[pascalscenarios]

THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader  

Summary: After the ordeal with Frankie, You spend your time alone. In the mean time, Lilah plans on talking to you. 

Warning: Mild Swearing

Words: 2,909

Authors Note: Hello! I hope you all are well! This chapter has me in my feels... I’m debating how long I should make this fic... I think I’m going up to 10, but we’ll see... Enjoy  :) - K 

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 5.5 | CH 6 |

Chapter 6

You were locked up in your bedroom. You didn’t dare to come out and face Alex. They were sweet, giving you space for a couple of hours to deal with your feelings after the whole Frankie ordeal. You were curled up in your bed, your eyes puffy from balling your eyes out. You staring out the window watching the rainfall.

He told you he loved you. Frankie told you he loved you. You knew he loved you, but after all these years he still wanted to be with you? He had a whole decade to make things right with you, but he decided to swoop in last minute a week before your wedding to fuck things.

He also had no right to tell you how to feel about him. How did you feel?

You heard a knock on the door.

“Babe?” Alex says softly opening the door. They watch you lie there on the bed.

They walk over sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“Hun, you have nothing to be sorry about.” They rub your back comforting you.

You turn to face Alex, sitting up in bed, resting your back against the wall. You pulled the blanket up more, grabbing a pillow to clutch in your arms.

“I know you have a lot of questions.” your voice trembled.

Alex stays silent waiting for you to talk.

“When I went out with the girls clubbing, I got lost, I thought I called you, but I accidentally called Frankie. He came picked up, I crashed at his place, nothing happened, but I was hanging out with him today”

Alex looked relieved.

“But I haven’t been completely honest with you about Frankie…” You couldn’t look Alex in the eyes.  

“The day we went cake testing, I told you Frankie was an old friend...he is an old friend. I’ve known him since I was a kid, but at one point we used to date...he’s my ex-boyfriend.” You confessed.

You kept spilling everything.

“I’ve never talked about him with you because I didn’t think I would need to. I didn’t think I would ever see him again. I found out why he left me, he has a daughter. I’m not mad at him at that, not one bit, but it just hurts that he didn’t tell me... and then he told me he still loved me. I know I shouldn’t care, because I’m not with him- I’m with you, but part of me does care-”

You scrunch your face, your lips trembling as you try to stop yourself from shedding tears, but they still manage to fall.

“Ever since he came back- I don’t know how I’m feeling and its suffocating, I’m so confused my head is just-”

“I think I should go,” Alex says.

“W-what?” Your eyes widen

“I think we need time apart” Your chest heaved as you heard them say that. Everything was crashing down on you. You bared your feelings and now he wants to leave you? The feeling you were getting felt exactly like the night Frankie left you.

“B-but the wedding is next week-”

“I know…” They move closer to the bed, grabbing a hold of your hands.

“I think you and I need to think things over alone. We need a couple of days to wrap our head around things, figure out what we want-”

“But I want you…Please don’t go, I’m sorry- ” You cried.

“Don’t be sorry. Look, it’ll only be a couple of days...After we thought about things, well come back and talk about us. We’ll figure things out, I promise, but right now, we need to think about if this is truly what we want, what you want.”

“Alex…”

“No matter what, I love you” They kiss you on the forehead, then leave the bedroom.

…

“My uncle Santiago who told me everything Rehma! The photos of the person in the shoebox was my dad’s childhood sweetheart. They’re Uncle Santi’s cousin. They called them Smiles” Lilah was laying on her bed, staring at a photo of you, Frankie.

“That’s crazy! What happened between them?” Rehma, Lilah’s best friend, was over their phone call.

“Me…” Lilah signs placing the photo down, rolling on to her back.

“What, what do you mean you?”

“You know how I didn’t meet my dad until I was five...Well, he was with Smiles at the time.”

“Right, your mom didn’t tell him about you…”

“...Because he was with Smiles…”

“What? That’s why your mom didn’t tell him?”

“I mean I guess, my parents weren’t serious. They didn’t last long, they thought it was best to remain friends. Obviously, my mom should have told my Dad about me, but I don’t think she wanted to ruin what he and smiles had, but ultimately he was the one that ended up doing that.”

“What do you mean?

“He left smiles and went after me… for a whole decade they had no idea about me.”

“What a mess!” Rehma gasped.

“Tell me about it! but I just feel bad he left Smiles in the dust like that. This is the love of his life!”

“What about you? How are you feeling about all this?” Rehma asked.  

“I have him. He’s forever in my life now. He loves me, I do not doubt that ever. He’s always put me and my needs first, I mean obviously, he’s a dad, that's the job, but it’s time he puts himself first. I’m fifteen, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m growing older, being more independent…I’ve never seen him be with anyone since the day he brought me home. I just want him to be happy you know.”

“Wow, that's-”

“That's why I'm going to talk to Smiles!” Lilah sits up in bed.

“Are you crazy?! What are you gonna do, pull a parent trap???”

“Some things like that…'' Lilah grabs the photo of you and Frankie, pulling out the shoebox that was hidden underneath your bed.

“I mean I think it’s cute you wanna set your dad up again with his childhood sweetheart, but what if this goes wrong?”

“Act now, think later, fuck it right?!” Lilah squeezes the phone between her shoulder and cheek, as she grabs her backpack, stuffing the boxes in.

“Moon!” Frankie shouted from the hallway.

“I gotta go!”

“Text me how it goes! If you need backup, call me!”

“Okay bye!”

“Moon?” Lilah quickly slips up the bag and hangs up the phone.

Frankie walks into Lilah’s room, finding her on the floor with her bag.

“Yeah, Dad?” She smiles.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing..” She stands up, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” He asks to lean against the doorframe.

“Is it okay if I go to Rehma’s? We have homework and a project to do…” Lilah lied.

“You just go home from school…”

“I know, but she's freaking out about everything. Mrs. Pike is kicking our ass lately with everything.

“Yeah, just be home before-”

“Thanks, dad!” Lilah quickly walks up to Frankie kissing him on the cheek and bolts out the door.

“-Sunset!”

“Got it! Bye love you!” She called out. Lilah was standing outside her house. She pulls out her phone, looking in her notes for your address she took down in her notes.

“Alright, Smiles… Where do you live?”

...

You spent Valentine's day alone, curled up on the couch, a pile of junk food around you, watching your favorite romantic comedies. You were doing the same thing three days later. You were wearing pajamas, your hair disheveled, your eyes still puffy from crying. It has been a terrible week so far.

You avoid thinking about everything, just wanting to take time to do absolutely nothing and veg out.

You were eating ice cream from the carton when you heard your doorbell ring. You didn’t bother to get up and answer it. You just wanted to be left alone. The ringing became persistent. You groaned, setting the carton down on the couch and getting up to answer the door.

You open the door to find a letter on the ground with your name on it. You pick up the letter opening it.

Frontier Park @ 5:00 pm

You look up, scanning the neighborhood, there was no one around. Who could this be from? Alex? Maybe Santiago...Frankie?

You went back inside your house, checking the time. It was 3:45, almost noon. You looked at our messy living room. Maybe you should get out. You’ve been cooped up in the house for too long. You needed some fresh air and gained back a clear and unclouded mind.

…

You got changed and headed to the park. It was a nice day, with a slight cool breeze. You sat on the bench and overlooked the pond. You sat there admiring the beautiful flowers and the cute ducks that swam on the pond.

From the corner of your eye, you see someone walking towards you. It was a young girl. As she gets closer to you, you realize who she was. You stand up as she approaches you.

“H-hi…” she stutters, stopping in front of you. “I’m-”

“Lilah” you gasp. You couldn't help but smile. She looked just like Frankie. You couldn’t believe she was standing in front of you.

You extend your hand out, introducing yourself. You both sat down on the bench.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you right now…” Lilah says in a bit of shock.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you either...I’m guessing you’re the one who left the letter at my doorstep. Are you alright? Did something happen? Is Frankie okay?” You were concerned for her, Frankie even. You had no idea why you were meeting her, but if she needed anything, you were willing to help her.

Lilah smiled. You were just like Santiago in her eyes. You were concerned and caring just like him. “Yes, I am. Everythings fine, I’m fine...Dad’s... Sorta okay I guess…” she says awkwardly.

“I’m sorry ambush you like this-”

“No! It’s alright... I - Just- How did you find me? How do you even know who I am?” Had Frankie told her about you?

“Uncle Santiago…”

“Of course” you rolled your eyes, chuckling.

“I went to Uncle Santi’s house, he answered questions I had…I found your address in the junk drawer in his kitchen...I wanted to talk to you about you and my dad... Uncle Santiago to me everything…”

You stiffen. Why the hell would your cousin air out all your dirty laundry with Frankie out on his Daughter?

“My dad has an old Shoebox filled with old photos of the two of you hidden in the back of the hallway closet.” She pulled the shoebox out of her bag, handing it to you.

You take the lid off staring down at a stack of photos.

“I would catch him staring at them from time to time. I used to look through these photos without him knowing. I always wondered who you were. I knew you must have been someone important to him. My best was that you two dated, Uncle Santi, confirmed that, but I found Dad bringing it back out for the first time in a long time, about a month ago. He’s been different lately. He’s sad. He tries to hide it from me, acting like he’s fine, but I can see right through him.”

You shuffle through the photos, a sad smile on your face at the memories they brought back to you.

“I just wanted to apologize, I know what happened between you and my dad… I know I’m the cause-”

“No no no.” You shake your head, setting the photos down in the box between you, placing your hand on her back.

“Lilah, that wasn’t your fault. What happened between Frankie and I is between us. Your Dad needed to go after you, and I don’t blame him one bit for doing that, that would be selfish of me.”

“I wish he would have told you about me. I think it’s terrible that he left without saying anything. And all those years without knowing-”

“I wish he would have told me too, but what’s most important is that he has you. You’re all he needs”

“Yeah he does have me, but what he needs is you. You’re his missing piece to his puzzle. He could never love someone as much as he loves you and me.”

“Lilah…” You turn away from her, tears starting to form in your eyes at what she said.

“Look, I know you’re getting married a-and I know my dad hurt you, but I think you should be with him. You’re the love of his life...You’re the one that got aw-”

“Lilah!” You hear a man shout.

You see Frankie walking towards you both.

“Oh, shit” Lilah murmurs quickly standing, grabbing the shoe box, she had no time to hide away in her bag as well as you.

“Lilah!” He was angry. You quickly stand up

“Dad!-”

“Lilah what-” He stops talking, taken back by you standing beside his daughter.

“Smiles?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you confused. He turns his focus back on his daughter.

“Lilah, what the HELL are you doing?!”

“Dad, I-”

“You lied to me about where you were going?! You left your books at the house, I went over to Rehma’s, only for her parents to tell me you weren’t over there!”

“Dammit, I forgot to tell her the plan..” Lilah mumbled, closing her eyes.

“Lilah, what are you even doing?! And why are you here with my daughter?” He pointed at you. His eyes catch the box “Where did you get that?” he looks up at Lilah

“The hallways closet…I-I know about you and smiles…”

His chest heaves. “What is this?” He turns his attention towards you, staring at you tensely. “You are trying to get back at me for all the shit I did?! You really gotta drag my kid into this?!” he yelled.

“Frankie-” you tried to explain, but he wouldn’t let you speak

“I know I fuck up, but this is low! You don’t go meeting up with my kid and talk about our business! Why would you even-”

“I’m the one that asked them to meet me here!” Lilah spoke up.

“Lilah, how do you even know-”

“Uncle Santiago told me. He told me everything. Valentine's day when I told you I was a Rehma, I was at Uncle Santi’s house. I’ve known about the shoebox for years, Dad…”

He scoffs. “Of course he fucking did...Why are you here with smiles?”

“...I was…” Lilah looks down at the ground.

“You were what, Lilah?”

She sighed. “..I was trying to get them to take you back…”

“Oh god…” Frankie groans, rubbing his face.

“Dad, I’m-”

“Lilah! You can’t be serious right now!!!” he began to yell again.

“Dad, you're sad! I can see past the fake smiles and the facade you put up! I’ve seen the way you look at those photos! I thought I could-”

“You have absolutely NO right doing what you did!!! Lying to me, going behind my back, and getting involved in things you don’t understand and that are none of your business!!! You need to apologize to Smiles right now.”

Lilah turns to face you. “I’m sorry…” She whispers, you see the tears forming in her eyes.

“Go wait for me in the truck-”

“Dad-” she croaks.

“I said go wait in the truck. We’ll finish this conversation at home.” He says strictly.

Lilah listened to her father, quickly walking in the direction of the parking lot.

Frankie felt embarrassed and humiliated. He was angry with his daughter that she would put him in a situation like this.

“Frankie-”

“Don’t, Smiles...Just don’t.” He played his hands on his hips, his head hung low. He turns around, his back towards you. He stares off at the forest a few yards away.

“She meant well, Frankie…”

“Yeah, but nothing she does or planned on is going to change anything…” he chuckles.

“You’re still going to get married.” He turned to face you. He was crying.

It was the first time in a long while since you saw him cry. He bottled up his feelings, but he finally found his breaking point.

“I thought it was gonna be us you know. You were it for me. You were the one, but I fucked things up. I fucked things up so bad.” He cried, his eyes growing red. “I should have told you about Lilah. I should have never left you like that, the way that I did. I’ve regretted it every day. We’d probably still be together. A-and now you’re about to get hitched to someone that isn’t me in a couple of days.That should me! I should be the one waiting to see you walk down that aisle, that should be me you’re walking towards, not Alex…”

You hadn’t realized you were crying.

“I’m gonna have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

“Frankie..” you breathed. He walked up towards you, grabbing your side of your face, passionately kissing you. The kiss was desperate, he pulled you closer to him. He needed to kiss you one last time. You both pull away breathless, but he sneaks a few more short kisses before you both rest your foreheads against each other.

“I love you so much, Smiles... I’m sorry for everything.” With that, he pulls away from your grasp, walking away.

He leaves you standing alone.

Tags // @icanbeyourjedi  @im-an-adult-ish  @sara-alonso @lydiascottage @eternalkara​

[waitingat-thefrontgate]

Hell Was The Journey

Summary: Max and Spencer's almost meet...two times before they do

Word Count: 1769

Authors Note: I love Max. I love Spencer and Max's relationship. I also LOVE Taylor Swift, so when I was listening to invisible string I couldn't help but wonder how that'd be a cute Maxcer fic. So here I am! I made a separate account to post this. I hope you enjoy!

p.s this isn't probably the first fic inspired by that song, but I am pretty sure it is the first Maxer one. Please correct me if I'm wrong!

4x8

Max let out a deep sigh as she checked her watch. She had an hour before she had to head to her student teaching placement, an hour she wouldn’t have if her professor didn’t end class early.

“Come on Max, let’s act like college students and do something on campus” her classmate Leah said.

Before Max could respond, Leah had already pulled Max off to a direction.

“You know we could be lesson planning. Or even better, go somewhere to eat!” Max grumbled as she would have preferred to spend the hour decompressing her teaching credential program’s tough schedule. Although she looked forward to seeing her students and loved being able to share the passion of art with others, Max still couldn’t help but wonder if this was what she was supposed to do with her life. She followed her mom’s advice about pursuing something she loved, but an art history degree unfortunately isn’t getting her job interviews.

Ignoring her, Leah stopped at a bulletin board that listed all the current events that were going on campus. “Max! They are holding an FBI recruitment seminar in a few minutes, we should go!”

“I don’t think the FBI will be impressed with my 5’2 stature and art history degree” Max snorts and shakes her head. “Besides, we are pretty knee deep in another career path.”

“I know that, but who knows who we’ll meet. Maybe some cute guys are interested, or better yet, maybe there’s some hot FBI agents here already. Let’s go!!” Without giving Max the second to respond, Leah at pulled her off to the direction of the building the FBI seminar was held.

They arrived a few minutes before it started. The presenter was an older man, who seemed to be already chatting with another attendee, who seemed to be dressed to impress wearing a suit and tie. It wasn’t until the younger man turned around that his holstered weapon was visible.

“What have I been doing wrong if he’s in the FBI. He looks about our age” Leah whispered.

Before Max could respond, her phone starting buzzing. Leah sent Max death glares as she picked up the phone, her brother-in-law Jared doesn’t call her unless it’s important.

“Hello?”

“Michelle’s in labor! We’re on our way to the hospital now. Meet us when you can!” Jared hung up right after his last words, probably calling the rest of the family.

After a few seconds of shock and the reality that her sister was going to be a mother, and Max would be an aunt registered, Max gathered her things right as the presenters started introducing themselves.

“Hello, good afternoon my name is David Rossi and I hav-“Leah looked at Max waiting for an answer as to why she was just leaving so quick.

“Sorry I’ll call you later” Max whispered, “let me know how it goes!” She slides out the door and starts running towards her car, knowing she will be meeting her niece or nephew very soon

10x9

Max couldn’t believe the news about her friend Jessica. Although her and Jessica haven’t been close ever since she went behind Max’s back and dated Mike Davis a week after they broke up, she was still horrified and saddened by the details of her death. Max knew that Jessica wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but she was a business owner, and her responses were always out of fear and stress about making ends meet.

She had already been in contact with other mutual friends she shared with Jessica, and she began scrolling through old pictures she had.

Max thought for a very long time that Mike Davis was going to be the man she’d marry. After a tough time getting a steady teaching job and losing her mother, Max so desperately wanted something she could say was hers. This led to her moving quickly with Mike and missing (and ignoring) the clear red flags. Even after the cheating and lying, Max was willing to forgive Mike. No matter how many times they broke up, Max always hoped for the day Mike would just pick her, and only her.

Feeling guilty about practically ending her friendship over a guy like that, Max sighed as she grabbed her keys to head to work. That’s when she jumped over her phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Maxine Brenner?” a deep voice asked.

“Yes, yes this is her. May I ask who I’m speaking with?”

“My name is Aaron Hotchner, I work with the FBI and I’m calling to ask you questions about your friend, Jessica Harris. She had you listed as an emergency contact.”

Max’s heart stopped. She didn’t know. “Yes, yes of course. We haven’t been in contact as much, but I want to help however I can.”

“Would you be able to stop by our office this morning?”

Max bit her lip. She had already used all personal and sick days, and her current principal was everything but understanding. “I’m on my way to work right now, and unfortunately won’t have time until this afternoon.”

“I understand. Give me a second and I’ll connect you with another agent who can talk to you on the phone, and they’ll see if you should come down again this afternoon.” At the bureau, Aaron looks out his office window. He sees Spencer looking at the board of the case with the pictures of the victims and their location.

Aaron steps out of his office, enough for Spencer to hear him, “Hey Reid, I have a contact that knows Jessica on the phone right now, can you ask her some questions?”

Spencer doesn’t turn around. “I can’t right at this moment, I’m still putting together information about our other victim”

Aaron scans the room and noticed Anderson without a task. “Anderson! I’m gonna patch you with someone who knew one of our victims. If anything seems worthy have her come down this afternoon.”

Max twiddled her thumb until finally she hears another voice, “Hello, my name is Agent Anderson and I’ll be asking you a few questions about Jessica.”

During her entire commute, Max answered questions about Jessica truthfully. She winced when she realized she didn’t have many good things to say about her. Agent Anderson thanked her, and as of right now he doesn’t see a need for her to come down. Max thanked him and grabbed her things and walked towards her school. She knew her students would be able to make her smile.

15x4

It was Saturday morning and Max smiled as her nephew talked about school over breakfast. Her nephew was almost as tall as she was, but she still remembers how small he was when she first held him all those years.

She finally felt like she was in a good place. After many years of struggling silently Max got the strength to go to therapy and take the time and energy to truly heal. It was hard, she always found pride in her independence and her high walls. The decision to go wasn’t easy, but when she realized how much it was affecting her relationship with Sammy, she knew she had to go. For the first time, she talked about her childhood and the pressure of growing behind her sister Michelle’s shadow, losing her mother and her toxic, fast paced and short lived relationships.

For almost two years, she had been applying the advice her therapist had gave her. She took care of herself, began putting effort in her relationships with her family, especially Michelle, and instead of ignoring the topic of her mother, she talked and remembered her fondly. She even got in touch with a headhunter, considering maybe it was time to leave teaching and find something that was meant for her. The other day she even thought about asking her brother-in-law if any of his coworkers were single, but she didn’t because she still wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

“Max, can we get cinnamon rolls at the coffee shop we always go with my mom?” Sammy looked up with big puppy dogs eyes.

“Sammy, we just finished eating. You sure you have room?” Max raised her eyebrow as she paid the bill.

Sammy thought for a minute, “I actually don’t know. But the park is right there so we can always go there for a bit.”

“Mhhh,” Max thought for a minute herself. She looked out and saw that it was a beautiful day in D.C and she would appreciate more time with her nephew, “Alright, let’s swing by the park!”

When they got there, the parking was full. She did a few laps, and she was ready to give up, “Sammy, I don’t think it’s possible we’re gonna have to try again another time.” Max turned her blinker to turn on the road again to drop Sammy off at his house.

“Awe come on Max! It’ll be quick I promise!” Sammy gave his best puppy eyes and Max knew who would get their way.

She turned her car around and parked on a no parking area and turned to Sammy. “We have to be SO quick.”

Sometime past season 15

Max looked out the window of her dad’s house as she plans the summer programs for the Smithsonian. Spencer was teaching Sammy a new magic trick as the rest of her family preps dinner outside. It had been almost two years since that Saturday at the park. Something that wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t make that spur of a moment decision.

Spencer and Max had already realized the two times their paths would have crossed. It was more decisions that delayed their meeting, but they both agreed that they were supposed to meet on that Saturday. They had to go through things, change, hurt and grow to be the person they were today. The person that was right for the other.

Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.

Max put her things away. There was something that connected her with Spencer, and today, she thanked that thing a little more. She reached her bag that had a positive pregnancy test. Holding it close to her heart, she thought back of all the things that had happened, and she would do it again to be with Spencer and grow their family.

Spencer saw Max walking down to join them, he grins and thinks to himself he will never get over seeing her. He still feels like that Saturday night when he found her again after waiting in the hospital.

“Took you long enough” Spencer says as he laugh

[jjuzoir]

Overdue | T. Shoto

request: “Hi! If your requests are still open, could I request a todoroki x reader oneshot please? Basically they’re childhood friends and go to UA together. Everyone ships them and Todoroki always treats reader super sweetly, but doesn’t realize that he’s also low-key pining for her. (always using endeavor’s credit cards to get her gifts LOL) eventually Todoroki figures out his feelings and confesses. Then the class catches them kissing in the dorms, making Todoroki and reader flustered! Thanks so much!”

a/n: this took me so long omgjdjsj fck all my reqs for this batch are taking me long :’) anyway thank you for being so patient with me @sugarandsoft ;;;

word count: 2933

When it came to romance it was safe to say Shoto was simply blind to it, the romantic feelings of those around him and himself were practically foreign to the teenager.

In all of your years of knowing him you had never once seen him actually be able to recognize the difference between friendship and crushing. To him there was no “I like you romantically” or “I don’t like you romantically”, it was always “I like you as a friend” or “I don’t like you as a friend”. The whole liking someone, crushing on them, dating-courting thing was as complicated as astrophysics is to an eight year old. Which led to everyone around him to immediately be put in the friendzone the minute they got to know him.

Everyone knew that, especially Class 1-A who had to bear witness to one of their top students crush hopelessly on you without even being aware of it. They knew, other students knew, the teachers knew, your parents knew, his mother knew, the League of Villains knew— everyone knew that Todoroki Shoto of class 1-A has a big, fat crush on you except Todoroki Shoto himself. Hell, it was so obvious All for One could’ve seen he had a crush on you.

It was the “little” thing that gave it away, like using the number-two-pro-hero’s credit card to get you a new phone because yours got a small crack. When confronted about it, he’d always say the same thing.

“She’s my friend and I enjoy using the old man’s money,” he’d scowl at Midoriya— Shoto’s self proclaimed wingman and president of the [Name] x Shoto club, who had questioned his spending habits when it came to you.

“So you'd do the same thing for any friend?” Izuku would push the boy further, he was going to get him to realize he liked you even if it killed him- and by the way the year had been going and Shoto’s complete obliviousness to the situation, the latter seemed more likely.

“I guess.”

“Oh really? Then where the fuck is my new phone, lukewarm? If you’re gonna call me your ‘friend’ where is my phone?” Bakugou questioned him with a snarl.

“Yours isn’t cracked, Bakugou-”

“Is that what it takes? ‘Cause I’m gonna do it!”

“Hey Izuku- what’s going on?” Ochako looked at the trio in front of her, easily being drawn to the loud noises coming from the living area.

“Half-’n-Half over here is gonna buy us new phones if we crack ours.”

“I see…”

“Seriously?” Mina barges into the room to pick up the teasing where the blond has left off, “But I like my phone- oh! I know, instead of a phone why don’t you get me some new sneakers!”

“And if I break my house, would you get me a new one?” The brunette asks, she’d rather shoot her shot or miss trying.

“So- you’re gonna admit you’d only do it for [Name] are you gonna need help placing some orders?” Bakugo smirks at Todoroki.

“Ochako and I can check real estate for you!” Mina giggles.

But rather than answering, the bi-colored haired teen simply looked down and mumbled to himself, annoyed; “I’m not buying anyone anything.”

Safe to say he didn’t keep his word because not a day later and he had bought you a new TV after you joked about getting tired of going down the stairs to the shared living space.

He’d make exceptions for you all the time, always covering it with the excuse of “she’s been my friend for longer”, even when it didn’t make much sense. From his limited physical contact rule to the reckless spending, you had him wrapped around your pinky and he didn’t even know it. Everyone would always tease you two about it yet both of you dense as rock to the implications never really paid them much mind.

But soon Todoroki was confused, really confused, by his peers and their words; they were constantly insinuating that he liked you in a more than friends way. At first it was easier to deny such claims, you were just friends— but the more the pestering continued the more aware he was of the ways his heart seemed to flutter at the mention of your name or how he began noticing how he stared at you more often than the rest.

But he couldn’t like you, you were his first real friend— the only person in his life that was always there, if he did like you and he did act out his alleged feelings there was always the possibility you’d say no. And that scared Todoroki more than he’d like to admit. You, on the other hand, did acknowledge the butterflies he’d bring you and welcomed them with open arms. Knowing your chances with him were slim, you unknowingly turned a blind eye to his behavior, chalking it up to him seeing you as his best friend (as much as it might’ve pained you to think like that).

It didn’t take long for you to notice how he seemed more hesitant around you, how he was shying away from your touch and the way he’d avoid giving you any response longer than two sentences, soon enough he was practically avoiding you altogether, and you were worried. In all of your years being his friend, Shoto had never been so cold and distant with you. Had you upset him? It was a complete 180º from before and it left you wondering why.

“Ugh, he’s just-! I’m so annoyed, Ochako!” You groaned into your pillows, “He's never acted like this before, he’s barely talked to me in weeks! I don’t know what I did or what to do.”

“[Name], it’s okay! He has been pretty off lately,” the brunette patted your back, “You should try talking to him!”

“How am I supposed to talk to him when he barely even lets me get near?”

“Hm, maybe leave him a note!” She suggests, brown eyes looking at you sympathetically.

“A note?” You look up and meet her gaze, “Huh…”

And so you did it, you scribbled down a meeting place and signed it anonymously before huffing, stuffing it in your bag and deciding.

“Dear Todoroki, please meet me in the kitchen after practice. It’s very important, you really need to come!”

Simple, short— straight to the point with little to no wiggle room for interpretation (other than a very insistent and kind of annoying person, but that’s a price to pay for the restoration of your friendship), if he didn’t come you’d simply harass him with more notes until he gave up or had enough to open up a paper store. Hopefully the former because you doubted you’d have enough post-it notes or the money for that many.

“Hmph! That should do,” you rub your hands before throwing a thumbs up at your friend, “Thank Ochako, I owe you big time!”

That morning you told Izuku and Iida about Ochako’s plan and how you hoped they’d make sure Shoto actually came to the meeting place.

“But, don’t you think he might, I don’t know,” the freckled boy scratched at his neck, “Think you’re going-to-confess-or-something?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” You look at Midoriya confused.

“He means that Shoto might think the note might be from someone who wants to declare their feelings for him.” Tenya informs you, maybe a bit too matter of factly for your liking no one likes being talked down to.

“Don’t worry guys, I think a love confession is the farthest thing Shoto will assume this is.” You wave your hands in an attempt to convince them otherwise.

“There is no way this is going to be a confession.” Bi-colored eyes squint at the blonde that walked besides him.

“Look, all I’m saying is this definitely smells like a confession scene to me,” Denki smirks at Todoroki, “The kitchen is a weird place though, maybe they’ve baked you some sweets! Bro, you’re so lucky!”

“You might want to check your nose because there’s simply no way, Kaminari.”

“Why?” Sero smiles as he asks, “You’re pretty popular with girls, why can’t this be another confession?”

“Because,” Shoto snatches the note from the black-haired boy’s hand, “This is [Name]’s handwriting.”

“Wait a minute-! You’re telling me she’s making a move before you?” Kirishima asks in surprise, “I knew you liked her but I had no idea she liked you back, huh. I can kind of see it though.”

“What are you even saying?” The boy in question grumbles, he knew he should’ve gone with Midoiya and Iida but he knew you were going to be there and he didn’t want to risk being a fool. Now he’s got dumb, dumber and the dumbest giving him butterflies by insinuating you like him back, great.

“That she likes you, dude!”

“Totally! And you- you like her back! So all you gotta do now is go accept her confession and stop moping around being all pathetic- ow!” Kaminari rubbed his arm, cursing Kaminari’s strength.

“Don’t say that!”

“Yeah, at least not to his face.”

Todoroki simply rolled his eyes at the boys before hurrying up his pace, today was going to be long as he asks himself if he should really go.

He had a lot to think about, this information was important to him; there’s a chance you like him and the thought made him happy— very, very happy. Just the idea that you might return these feelings, which he’s still trying to come to terms with, just confirms it in his mind that he, Todoroki Shoto, does like you; in a more than friends way. He’s not going to let the chance slip away.

By the time he’s at the meeting spot, he can’t deny that he’s excited even if  his face doesn’t really show it. He had been confessed to many times but this was different because, for the first time, he planned on saying yes.

He heard you approaching, the soft tap of slippers matching the beat of his heart. He liked you, he really did like you and you liked him back.

As you turn around the corner you’re met with a frowning Shoto and are slightly taken aback at his serious expression. You knew he tended to be quite inexpressive sometimes but after a while of not hanging around you can understand why others are off-put by his cold features and intimidating stature.

“Shoto, you’re here.” Even through your shock you still smiled at your friend, relived he’d even shown up with the way he’d been avoiding you. You make your way near the counter, before sitting on top of it, you had chosen the kitchen in case that he'd forgotten about the note but be there anyway getting himself something.

You’d have to be quick before he’d run away,  wanting to get straight to the point and ask him what had been going on. You cared about him and you missed him, you didn’t intend on wasting more time.

“I know it’s sudden but you've been avoiding me all week and I’m sick of it! I really care about you Shoto and you ignoring me like this hurts-!” You stuttered, too caught up in trying to pour out all your feelings at once— accidentally giving him the confirmation he needed that this was indeed a confession.

“It’s okay, I think I know what you mean,” he cuts in, his expression softening, “And I feel the same way too.”

“Huh-? Shoto what are you-?” You look around the room confused, if he knew how you felt then why did he continue avoiding you? Did he even really know what you were talking about?

“I was scared,” he continues paying your previous statement no mind, slowly approaching your sitting form before taking your hand, “that’s why I avoided you but knowing that you feel the same way, makes me happy I guess.”

You blink in confusion, what was he talking about? Neither of you were on the same page, you probably weren’t even in the same chapter, you furrow your eyebrows at the thought.

“Shoto, just to get this straight,” you look into his eyes causing him to blush a soft pink, what the hell was going on, “what feelings are we- uh, talking about?”

First he avoids you like the plague, now he’s blushing and talking about feelings? What did he think this was?

“Like.” He says staring at you in confusion as if you were the one not making sense.

“Like what?”

“Like.” Todoroki looks at you, soft skin creasing at the frown that was now adorning his face.

“Like what, Shoto?”

“Like as in ‘I like you’-like.” He squeezes your hand and you’re thankful you’re sitting down or else you think you’d fallen over at his words.

“Wait, you like me?” At the realization of what you had been just talking about it’s your turn to blush, the blood rushing to your cheeks giving them a soft glow, “You had been avoiding me because you liked me?”

“Well, yes, I just said that,” a pale hand comes to hold your cheek, “[Name], are you feeling alright?”

“You like me?”

He nods, a soft smile in his face as he assures you with a hug;  “I really do”.  This wasn’t the conversation you were expecting but it wasn’t unwelcomed either. In a way, it did answer your question but it left you in a bit of a dilemma because you did like Shoto and he liked you but, now, what did that make both of you?

“Do you like me?” He asked, his hand rubbing your back delicately and a sense of nostalgia washes over you as you remember all the times you’d comforted him when you both were younger. You just nod in fear of your voice giving out and accidentally ruining the moment.

“Are we- uh, dating now?” You ask into his shoulder, the soft smell of his shampoo filling your senses,

“Only if you want to.” He whispers. Neither of you were really physically affectionate with each other before this, at least not since you were little kids, but Shoto had to admit that holding you close like this was nice. Even if it had only been a week or two, you missed him and he missed you a lot and being able to hug you so freely made his heart feel like it was about to burst.

“I’d love to.” You pull away slightly from the hug to face him, your noses touching ever so slightly. You were happy, not only was your relationship with Todoroki restored but it had leveled up and you swore it was as if you were floating.

With hesitant hands he pulls you closer and you close your eyes, he smelt like soft wood and tea and you were reminded of all the times you’d go over to his house where a little Shoto would show you around his room and toys, excited to have a friend his father approved of. You were proud of the way he’d grown, how he’d soften up and learned, how he was able to let go of the anger and grow into himself, you always liked Shoto and to finally be able to be his girlfriend was all you could want right now.

“Can I?” He asked, the whisper soft and delicate in your lips; you nod.

His lips meet yours for a second, a sweet peck that left you giggling into him. You both pull away for a second before kissing once more, it was longer and almost sickeningly sick. You could taste the mint from him and you wondered if he could taste the sweets you had been eating earlier.

But, of course, in class 1-A nothing is really a secret for long and you hear clapping from behind you. Shocked, you both pull away flushed red as your friends are left stifling laughs. The kitchen door is wide open and you can see most of them pilling against the frame with wide eyes.

“Fucking finally, I thought we were gonna graduate before you two got together.” Bakugo is the first to speak.

“I’m surprised they even kissed, I thought it was going to take them another 15 years to get there!” Mina giggles to Ochako who can only nod in amusement, she gives you a thumbs up and you roll your eyes.

“How did you even know we were here? Aren’t you meant to be at practice or something?” You ask them, clutching Shoto’s shirt in an attempt to hide your face.

“Come on, you passed the note to Kaminari and Sero and expected us to not come?”

“I wonder what your kid’s quirk is gonna be like,” Midoriya mumbles into his hand, “Will they get both of Todoroki’s quirks plus [Name]’s?”

“Izuku! Don’t say things like that!” Iida begins scolding the green-head much to both your boyfriend and your amusement, “To say something so suggestive when they’ve only gotten together-!”

“Iida now you’re making it creepy!” Everyone begins grumbling, some annoyed and some laughing at the comments and the once peaceful and romantic atmosphere turns rowdy as everyone starts talking about the newly formed relationship.

“Great now I can’t use the kitchen without thinking about you two making out!” The blonde grumbled before storming out bringing with him a new round of laughs as you and Shoto blush awkwardly.

Safe to say, none of your classmates will ever let you live down how long it took you two to get together.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Greetings from Austin pt. III

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.  

WC: 3825

Warnings: a/b/o, bisexuality, biphobia, homophobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, married life/disagreements, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility/surrogacy

*flirting, m/m oral sex, Jensen’s insecurities are coming out, Jared gets arrested, both get counseling

A/N: This part consists of several time jumps over four month period.

A/N II: Hey, sorry took me a way longer to get done than planned, rewrote Oct 23 a dozen times alone and hoping makes sense, trying to flesh out characters more and has some stuff that plays into story line in later parts.

Part II

Masterlist

@winchesterandbeyondbingo​​​​​​ square filled-Jensen Ackles

*Series Inspired by this art.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

September 8th

7:30 am

Jensen was sitting in the makeup chair clenching his extra strong coffee container to help warm his hands. He’d spent a second, uncomfortable night in his trailer on location as Vancouver was having an unusual cold snap this time of year and with the covid restrictions the director decided that everyone needed to stay on site.

While he wasn’t happy about the weather, missing his own personal heater but at the same time grateful for a brief break from Jared now that they were heading towards the next phase of starting their family.

Jensen jokingly said they needed a code name since they were planning on keeping their plans a secret, even from their families, until the pups were born, playfully suggesting a cartoon from their childhoods.

Of course with Jared’s weird sense of humor, he loved it and started throwing ideas like operation: pound puppies.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Frieda said as she applied a concealer under his eyes to hide the dark smudges from not sleeping well.

“Huh?”

“You asked about my new job and haven’t heard anything I’ve said, wanna talk about it?”

“Sorry, not focusing very well today.”

“Yeah, we’re all feeling out of sorts with this being the last couple days.”

Jensen couldn’t believe he was down to his last two days of filming.

“Too bad this virus messed everything up, it would’ve been a hell of a send off if everybody could have been here.”

Alex and Misha had left right after they’d finished but Jim Beaver was back for the ending. It was only right for Bobby Singer to be there at the end, having been such a pivotal character in the brothers lives.

Frieda continues chatting about random things while finishing his makeup. A PA stuck his head in calling Jensen to the set. He stepped out of the trailer and smiled seeing his Baby sitting near the building being used as the exterior of Harvelle's Roadhouse.

***

September 12th

“Jen, I’m taking out the bags,” Jared calls out seconds before the apartment's front door shut.

Jensen was doing one last check around the place for any forgotten anything. Satisfied, he walked into the living room containing neatly marked boxes ready to be shipped back to Texas, relieved they had downsized from the big house Jared had years ago.

He stopped to gaze out the picture window when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, molding his back to the muscular chest of his mate, who rested his chin on his shoulder quietly saying, “I’m gonna miss this view.” Jensen hummed in agreement tipping his head back as Jared nuzzled his neck.

“We need to get going if we’re gonna make Seattle by seven,” Jared softly muttered as they’d stood there for a few heartbeats longer before releasing him. They walked to the door and Jensen turned once more to gaze out the window at the view of Vancouver.

***

September 21st

“This has been a great trip but man, I’ll be glad to be in our own bed tonight.” Jared remarks as they drive past a green highway sign saying Austin 312.

“Can’t wait,” Jensen drowsily says having not slept much the last couple days. They had decided to road trip it back to Texas, stopping at a few places they had wanted to visit for awhile.

Jared somehow managed to finagal, okay so his mind numbing blow job combined with those lethal long fingers that always makes Jensen agree to anything got him a couple extra days in southern Colorado.

Jensen enjoyed the beautiful scenery and hiking in the mountains but hated camping out. Well, it wasn’t technically roughing it the way Jared liked but still.. a frigging yurt in late September?

Oy vay, what he did for love.

The sound of Jared singing along to some classic country song on the radio as he drove finally put Jensen completely out.

***

October 23rd

Turning from the open fridge with a puzzled expression on his face, Jared senses the same vague something he’s felt God knows how many times in the last couple months.

Shutting the door he walked over to the island counter where his husband was seated pushing his unfinished dinner around on his plate.

“Jen, what’s going on? Are you worried about the implantation? Dr. Rodgers said the embryos were healthy and optimistic the surrogate took this first try.”

What Jensen wants to ask, the question that’s plagued him since that day in August choosing their Omega surrogate...how the hell does he phrase it without upsetting Jared?

“Did you choose her because you knew she’d be the one I’d pick?”

Jensen slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide, disbelieving he blurted it out.

Jared worked to find a response squeaking an actual squeak before he could get control over his vocals, “That’s what I’ve been sensing!” Gripping the edge of the counter with his big hands, “Are you seriously going there again? I was honest about our interactions when I realized she was the one I knocked down at the clinic and FYI, you weren’t exactly in full control either Alpha!”

Jensen clenched his teeth at being reminded his inner need to be in control at all times slipped.

“I’ve racked my brains trying to figure it out how to ask something like that without upsetting you!” Jensen yells getting up and pacing around the kitchen.

Jared huffed, “So all this time instead of talking to me, you’ve conjured up some..”

“For the last two years I’ve gotten the sense you feel somethings missing, kept telling myself it’s your unfulfilled biology. But ever since you meet that Omega you’ve been.. I can’t explain it and now I’m second guessing our marriage Ja....” his rant abruptly cut off.

Jared’s eyes were glowing red, pinning him with an eerie wolf expression, the intensity disconcerting him. “I chose you, my husband, my soulmate, my everything!“ The words should have been reassuring but Jared’s voice was pitiless, something Jensen's never heard pass from his lips before.

Jared took a deep breath and with normalcy returning said, “I love you Jensen and I thought you understood, for me, in my mind, both of us having pups with the same donor means my offspring won’t be seen as just step relations but will grow up having strong familial ties with JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin.”

Jensen started to speak when a low, reverberating growl from Jared warning him not to interrupt.

“I consciously listened to my inner wolf when it came to choosing the person who is biologically the Om of our children and I,” Jared emphasizes tapping his chest with his long index finger, ”have no regrets but apparently you do.” Taking a deep breath Jared drops a non sequitur, ”The dogs need to be fed,” and walks away.

At the sound of Jared’s SUV leaving Jensen’s legs gave out and he drops to the floor curling up in a fetal position wrapping his arms over his head. Arlo and Koda laid down, one on each side, cocooning him between them.

***

Thanksgiving

“The kids are in a tryptophan coma,” Jensen announces as he walks in through the kitchen's back door. He had followed Danneel home afterwards helping get JJ and the twins cleaned up and put to bed, “they’ll be out till Monday.”

“Good, cause I’m dead on my feet,” Jared replies yawning while loading the dishwasher. It had been their turn to host the holiday with Danneel, the kids, Clif, Jared’s siblings and their broods.

“I told you to wait and I’d help finish the cleanup when I got back.” Jensen said as Jared started the machine.

“I figured you’d wanna stay awhile and be too tired and I didn’t want to deal with it tomorrow. All that’s left is to put the trash and recycling out, could you grab it?”

“On it,” Jensen picked up the bags walking around the side of the house dropping them into their designated receptacles.

When he came back in Jared was switching off the lights downstairs. They made their way up to the bedroom taking turns in the bath getting ready for bed.

Jensen was sitting with his back against the headboard checking his messages when Jared drops heavily next to him, “I plan on sleeping for the next three days.” He mutters resting his head against Jensen’s shoulder.

“Sounds good to me babe, I’m glad we didn’t schedule anything extra this weekend, be nice to spend some time alone.” He finishes wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hmm, do you remember last year's Thanksgiving?”

Jared closed the kitchen pantries door, pushing Jensen against it seductively lowering his fox slanted eyes huskily whispering, “I’m so fucking horny I need my dick you now.”

“Dude, we’re re in my sisters...“

“..you’ll have to be quiet,” Jared dove in for a deep, dirty kiss, grinding against Jensen until he was begging to be fucked.

“You’re the one who got us busted..oh fuck Jensen..so fucking tight..fuck..not gonna last..then later I get Mac saying it sounded like your dick...”

“Okay..buuut,” Jared tilts his head slowly running his tongue up the column of Jensen’s neck, “you gotta admit,” hand slipping under his sleep shirt, “our sex life,” long fingers tip toe up the smooth, freckled chest, pads teasing his left nipple as Jared nibbles on his earlobe, ”is never boring.”

Jensen groans, dropping his arm, still clinching the phone, tipping his head to expose more of his neck to Jared’s wondrous lips, enjoying the scratch of his short beard.

“I thought you were sleeping the next three days.”

Jared answers by removing his hand and straddling his husband's thick thighs taken the phone placing it on the nightstand and starts nibbling along the other side of Jensen’s sensitive neck, working his way to his slightly raised claim mark flattening his tongue licking the ultra sensitive spot that always drives his Alpha wild.

Jensen slides his hands up Jared’s back finding a grip in his shortened hair, unhappy about how much he’s cut off for Walker, unable to tangle his thick fingers into the soft tresses like he used to.

Finding a purchase he pulls hard making Jared groan at the pleasurable sensation tips his head back till it’s the perfect angle for Jensen to run his tongue across those candy pink lips, teasing them open to grant him access, continues teasing, alternating between caressing Jared’s tongue with his and sucking on his lips.

Moaning, Jared rocks his hips seeking friction, breaks their kissing long enough to work Jensen's sleep shirt off. They end up wrestling a few moments before Jared tosses it as Jensen’s lips attack his more desperately.

Tapping Jared’s thigh, Jensen rolls them kneeling between sleep pant clad legs watching as Jared reaches up gripping the strategically placed bar in their custom made headboard with both hands, his pecs flexing in anticipation of what’s to come.

Not breaking eye contact Jensen bends forward, his lips a hair's breadth from Jared’s, slowly slides backwards hovering, caressing the acres of golden skin beneath him with only his warm breath, pausing to hook his fingers in the pants waistband and pulling them with him as he continues journeying south.

Slowly making his way back north he leaves wet, open mouth kisses along the now naked, extra long, muscular legs he loves, sucking on the insides of both thighs, nipping hard enough to leave marks before arriving at his designated stop.

He hasn’t even touched Jared’s beautiful cock yet it’s fully engorged, resting against his flat stomach vigorously leaking precome. Jensen dips his tongue into his bellybutton lapping up the liquid collecting in it, cause fuck, he’s loves how more sweet than salty Jared’s always tasted.

Hips rolling Jared rubs his cockhead against Jensen’s tongue and he kitten licks the dribbling slit before resting his head on Jared’s lower stomach and wrapping his lips around the velvety head.

Shifting his grip on the bar Jared’s makes nonsensical noises, toes curling at the mixed sensations of his mates silky beard tickling his lower regions while sucking on his cockhead, alternates swirling his tongue over the nerves underneath and teasing his slit sending spikes of pleasure radiating through him.

After all these years Jared’s still amazed at Jensen’s knowledge of his body, his ability to keep him on the edge of not enough for however long he’s in the mood to play.

“..pleease...need to cum...got to..so fucking..uhh..Alpha!”

Raising up on a forearm Jensen starts bobbing up and down his shaft, pausing briefly on each downward pass, working his throat open to take Jared further in until he’s nose deep in dark, trimmed pubic hair. Holding his mate's substantial cock in his throat swallows around him as Jared’s knot inflates, pushing his jaws apart till it’s too much.

Letting the knot slip out from between his plump lips Jensen wraps a hand firmly around it and starts vigorously bobbing drawing out a litany of obscene noises, feels Jared’s balls drawing up and backs off swallowing the warm, thick, spurting liquid.

Leisurely licking until Jared hissed, too sensitive for anymore kisses the tip one last time crawls back up the bed searching for his pillow and face plants on it.

“Dude, you’ve finally sucked out my last brain cell.”

Purring deep in his chest, Jensen gives Jared a self satisfied smirk, who mutters, “wasn’t trying to give you a bigger head.”

Rolling onto his side Jensen displays his turgid cock needing attention, “okay, he’s the bigger head,” Jared concedes reaching down running his fingers over the weeping tip, wetting them with precome spreads it over the shaft firmly fisting Jensen’s pulsing thickness, moving his hand up and down excruciatingly slowly.

“So,” his honeyed voice lowers an octave watching Jensen dissolving into a breathy mess, “how does he want me?”

Jensen opens his mouth to answer when a phone rings. Glaring over his shoulder, “not mine,” he growls. Still stroking him Jared stretches for his, “it’s the clinic..hello? Dr. Rodgers, hey, how are you sir?” He lets go sitting up against the headboard.

Why’s the doctor calling them at such an odd time, on a holiday no less?

Jared's brow wrinkles before he turns to Jensen, eyes sparkling breaks out his wondrous smile making his dimples pop.

“Jensen, she’s pregnant!”

Jared's practically bouncing on their bed like he’s on a massive sugar high discussing what comes next with the doctor. Jensen feels his erection rapidly diminishing, gets up heading into the bath and turns on the shower.

Climbing in he crosses his arms against the far wall, resting his forehead against them closing his eyes as hot water bounces across his broad shoulders.

Jensen knows he should be elated. Jared’s getting the pup (or pups) he’s desired for years and the possibility of being a father himself again. Instead, his heart seized up in conflict.

***

After that god awful argument in October he ended up at Josh’s, who confessed his mate and him were seeing a counselor because they were having marital issues too. Spending the night drinking and reflecting Jensen came home the next morning to a still angry Jared cause he didn’t know where the fuck his husband was all night.

Filling him in about his talk with Josh, Jared seemed somewhat mollified but a few nights later...

Walker star Jared Padalecki arrested near the one year anniversary of Stereotype bar altercation.

· Jared Padalecki was arrested once again in Austin, Texas, early Sunday morning on one count of public intoxication…

When he got released Jared sat Jensen down pleading with him to sit in on his next therapy session, saying they couldn’t keep going on like this, it was tearing him apart.

He wants..no..needs Jensen to completely open up, stop trying to protect him and discuss what’s going on in his head, what he’s really feeling.

Jared’s therapist started off informing both of them he wasn’t a marriage counselor but after a brief conversation with Jared knew the situation was having a detrimental impact on his mental health.

He listened to them separately, then together, about their observations and thoughts on each other’s behaviors came up with a hypothesis:

Since Jared’s last depressive episode, his random thoughts/emotions were feeding more into Jensen’s deep seated insecurities over his mate’s open, flirtatious personality and how he perceives others attraction/interactions to him.

And now Jared’s inner wolf is demonstrating an intense attraction to an Omega, something never encountered before with past preferences in Beta females, with this new dynamic Jensen didn’t know how to handle it.

Jensen opened and closed his mouth several times sputtering before saying this was complete bullshit and stormed out.

***

Lost in thought Jensen didn’t notice his husband stepping into the open shower stall until his considerable frame was blocking the water, Jared’s voice drew him out of his musings.

“I can hear you thinking clear in the other room.”

Cupped Jensen’s face between his large hands he gazed into those spring colored eyes that captured his heart the moment he looked into them years ago, “Hey, no matter what happens next, we’re good.”

***

December 16th

Jared was sitting in his chair chatting with Lindsey and Keegan while the crew was finishing setting up for the next scene when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number but excuses himself, stepping away for some privacy answering.

“Hey, everything okay?” Lindsay asked after he hung up, concerned by the visible tension rolling off the big Alpha.

“Umm..I don’t know, I need to make another call...” Jared said, waving the phone, “yeah, let us know if you need anything.” Keegan says and Jared nodded his thanks.

The phone rang three times, “Hey Clif, I need a favor.”

***

December 19th

Clif pulled the SUV into the parking lot, “Are you sure this is the right place?” Jared inquires looking around taking in the old motel located in a very questionable area of Austin.

“This is the name the guy mentioned.” Clif replied, getting out heading for the office. Couple minutes later he climbed back in, “the manager said the laundry out back.” He started the vehicle and drove to the rear of the property.

Clif got out again and knocked on the building's door. An older Hispanic woman answered engaging him in a brief conversation before stepping back inside.

Clif nodded to Jared and as he got out of the vehicle that piquant scent hit him seconds before the door reopened. The person he’d spent days searching for froze in the doorway upon seeing him.

***

December 22nd

Jensen, claiming out of the Uber, grabbed his bag thanking the driver, walked up the front stone pathway relieved to be home from L. A. after a hopefully final costume fitting for his new role as Soldier Boy, this flying back and forth every week for the last couple months had gotten old real quick and he was looking forward to enjoying the holidays at home.

Jared’s parents were coming tomorrow and staying for a few days as was Danneel and their pups. Josh said he was still planning on dropping by a few hours Christmas Day since he and Mac were scheduled to spend most of the holiday with their parents.

Jensen felt that mixture of anger and sadness he got thinking about his parents. He was raised in their church and though he never believed in it, respected their choice.

Too bad they couldn’t reciprocate.

***

Alan and Donna belonged to an ultra conservative church. The foundations of child rearing was to be found in the good book and in the Ackles household-spare the rod, spoil the child-was gospel.

When they were growing up neither parent was the physically or emotionally demonstrative type, only showing their offspring a reserved affection, especially in public.

The saving grace was their Beta nanny who gave them unconditional love, especially Jensen, who was shy as a child already knowing he was different from his siblings. She instilled the confidence in them to discover who they truly were inside and encouraged Jensen to come out before moving to California.

Shortly after graduating he told his family about his bisexuality and his boyfriend was moving to L.A. with him.

Alan and Donna tried to stop him. He was to go to their pastor and confess his transgressions, beg forgiveness for his sins against the church and its teachings, threatening to pull the agreed upon six month financial support while he auditioned for parts before going to college if it didn’t work out.

Jensen refused, packed up, took his boyfriend and left. He got his first break shortly after and quickly learned Hollywood didn’t care what his sexual orientation was as long as he kept it behind closed doors.

His management agency decided early on to promote Jensen as the good guy/boyfriend type. They also set him up on dates to events with many up and coming female artists of the time. He had no problem playing along when he wasn’t actually dating a woman.

His big break came on the CW. After co-starring in a couple series for the network he was offered the chance to be a lead in a new series created by Eric Kripke.

At the audition he met former Gilmore Girls heartthrob, Jared Padalecki, flashing his infectious smile, dimples for days and the most beautiful, incredible color shifting eyes Jensen’s ever seen, he was done for.

Jensen might not have his biological parents in his life anymore but his now in-laws, the complete opposite of the Ackles, helped fill that hole.

It’s easy to see where Jared’s personality comes from. His Om, Sherrie, is overly affectionate, excessively physical and verbal with everyone she considers family, biological or not.

The first time he accompanied Jared home on a holiday break Jensen was literally bowled over by the five foot nothing Omega and instantly became part of her brood.

***

Barley getting the front door open Jensen is hit with the piquant scent of orange blossoms and spices he couldn’t quite place.

Dropping his carry-on bag in the foyer he followed the scent further into the house. Arlo sat up near the large picture windows facing the backyard where he and Koda are napping and gets up coming over to greet him.

“Hey big guy, where’s daddy at?” Jensen asked rubbing around his ears like he liked having thought Jared would still be on set before the holiday break.

He heads towards the kitchen where the scent seems to be coming from, “Babe is that coffee shop back open, what’s it called, has those sweet rolls you're obsessed with..” he abruptly stopped and blinks not believing what was in front of him.

More accurately who was in front of him.

“Babe is in his office and dinner will be ready in twenty.”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

***

tbc

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy​ @let-me-luve-you​ @all-4-wincest

SPN: @donnaintx​ @lyarr24

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid​

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva​

[dreams-of-emerald]

The blaring sound of the alarm clock enveloped the once quiet room. It continued for a few more seconds before it was turned off.

The first one to open their eyes was the female in bed, despite not being the one who reached out for the alarm clock. She smiled as she gazed upon her husband who seemed to have gone back to dreamland.

“I’ll make breakfast, love.” She said and kissed his temples before getting up.

She slipped on her slippers, grabbed her hair tie before proceeding to their kitchen.

Like always, she would tie her long blonde hair in a messy bun as she hates to have it getting in the way of her cooking.

She washed her hand before touching any ingredients that she set up, as a doctor, and ever since she was a kid she had always been wary of germs.

“What to make?” She whispered to herself. Her blue eyes landed on a loaf of brioche bread before an idea came to mind.

While she was busy cooking. She finally heard the showers turned on which could only mean that her husband had finally gotten up.

They had been married for 5 years now.

Their story was your typical romance tale. They had been childhood sweethearts, met at summer camp became friends, and turned into lovers. They were together for 4 years before he proposed. She had to finish her studies in the medical field before they got married.

Nina, her name, or what at least the closest people call her. She filled her cup with coffee and she did the same for her husband. She set up the sandwiches that she made on separate plates and sat down.

She was staring into thin air and thinking about the past when she felt her husband kiss the top of her head.

“Seem to be in deep thoughts.” Her husband said before he took the seat in front of her. “Yeah, just thinking about when we first met.

A grin spread on the man in front of him. “The time when I fell from the tree trying to impress you?” He took a sip of his coffee.

She rolled her eyes. “You said you were trying to get a better view of the camp.”

“And you believed me?” His tone sounded amused.

“Well, I pretended to.” She smirked and gave a wink which made him chuckle in return.

“So, what do we have here?” He looked at the sandwich on his plate.

“They call that egg drop sandwich in Korea. Made my version.”

He nodded before taking a bite. “Hmmm.”

“Do you like it?”

“I always like what you make-but this is amazing.”

“Glad you approve.”

“What are those? Extras?”

“For you and Lucas. You two should stop skipping meals. You’re police, it would be embarrassing to die from hunger.”

Lucas was his partner cop, they’ve been colleagues since he started his career. Though Lucas was older than him, they seemed to hit it off.

“We won’t.”

Yes, Henrik Berg, her husband is part of the law enforcement. While he was busy protecting the city, she was busy saving lives. That’s how their team work.

She went back to her coffee. “I was thinking.”

“Hmmm?”

“Well I read a book that there are two realities, hypothetically thinking- if there is, I wonder what you’d look like? What your career is?”

Ever since he was young, Henrik always wanted to be a police officer like his grandpa. He loved hearing how his grandpa was able to help out with cases. He caught bad guys. It intensified when he saw DC heroes and Marvel. Sure, he can’t be batman but the closes to becoming a superhero is by being a cop.

“What do you think?” He asked trying to humor his wife.

“You know, I didn’t notice this until now. But if you grow your hair long.”

“I can’t, love.”

“I know, but if you did, you’ll look like Thor!”

He thought for a while. “I don’t think so, hun.”

“Then maybe you had long hair on the alternate universe.”

“Lucas is rubbing his geekiness on you.”

“We’ll you gotta hand it to the guy. He knows how to make a conversation. The problem is when he would stop.” She said then took a bite on her sandwich.

Henrik chuckled as he waited for her to swallow her food.

“Oh! but love, It would be amazing if your skills were that of spiderman.”

“A face like Thor and spiderman skills?”

She sips on her coffee. “Yeah, like a climbing instructor or something.”

Henrik shook his head. “And what would you be?”

“I’d still be hot.”

Henrik laughed nearly choking on his last bite. “Well you are, babe but your job?”

“I dunno, something that I haven’t had the courage to do like vlogging?”

“Don’t you want to start doing it?”

“And what would be my content? Surgeries?” She raises her eyebrow. “Hi everyone! Welcome to my channel! For today, I’m gonna show you how to remove a tumor.” she said in a chirpy voice.

Henrik laughed once more.

“I’m sure as hell that my video would be removed before I could even get a view.”

Henrik shook his head before raising his hands in defeat.

“So, I’ll leave the vlogging to my other self.”

“What if she’s not a vlogger.”

“Then she’d be a pop star.”

“If she isn’t?”

“I dunno, a student? Working community service? Why are you ruining my jobs?”

“You’re a surgeon, love. No one can top that.”

“Um… Taylor Swift?” She shook her head. “That’s not the point, can we leave my occupation to vlogging?”

Henrik nodded with an amused expression as he took another sip from his cup. “So how’d we meet?”


“I dunno if we’d even meet.”

“If we don’t… this discussion is over.”

“You’re no fun.” Nina pouted. “Well, we could meet like how modern humans meet.”

“Dating app?”

“Let's make it interesting. Like a dating show where one gets dump if we fail to get a couple.”

“Okay, and how would that work?”

“And we’d only be living in one villa or something to establish a connection.”

“For a minute you sounded like Lucas.”

“Love, please?”

“Alright continue.”

“And the setting should be a tropical Island. Like we’d be wearing swimwear throughout the day.

“No way! No deal! No one is eyeing on you-“

“Babe it’s just a thought and we’re already married.”

“Yes, we are. So leave our alternate selves and let them live their lives please.”

Nina laughed. “Alright alright.”

“Where do you get these weird ideas anyway?”

“You know what?” His wife looked at him. “I wish your alternate self would be the spontaneous and creative one in their ralationship.”
“That would be a totally different me.”

“That’s the point, love.” She grinned. “Anyway, now that my thoughts are out. You should go to work. I hear a car pulling over.”

“Alright. Thanks for breakfast.” Henrik got up and grabbed th food that his wife packed.

He kissed her forehead before leaving. “Enjoy your rest day, love. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, take care and comeback alive.”

“Will do.”

With that he went out and closed the door.

“Alright! Now, to do the chores.”

And this is how Nina Berg spends her rest day.

_______ M E A N W H I L E_______

In another part of the world-

A blonde haired woman with the same features and name was seen getting up early. She tried to enjoy the morning sunshine. The cool, morning air carried the sound of the gentle melodies of the birds.

Just then, a splash could be heard coming from the pool. Her eyes scanned the pool area and found two boys sitting with their feet in water. The blond one was dripping wet

She could hear him say “I can’t believe we’re really here.” As a grin spread on his lips.

“Tell me about it! I can’t wait to meet the girls.” She almost didn’t caught what the black hair lad said.

But definitely, this was the start of an amazing summer.

——END——-

So, I was watching the Good doctor and put that aside for Hawaii five 0 and I got hooked. Then I saw Fear street all 4 of ‘em so my mind went crazy with a lot of thoughts popping here and there as a result. — this short fic.

[mersuperwholocked-lowlife]

Irreplaceable

Word Count: 2,017

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, OC Character, Reader

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: some angst, some fluff, terrible writing

A/N: just ur typical late night one shot with terrible writing

Masterlist

You felt a sense of dread wash over you, checking your phone as you received a text from your sister.

You’re in Kansas, right? I’m working a case in Lebanon and I wanna meet uppp

You scratched your head nervously, deciding to ignore her text.

You and your sister never really got along, she always thought she was better than you at everything, and she was. Every moment she has she would show you up. You spent most of your life being compared to her, and even now, over 20 years later, nothing changed. She was still the better hunter, still the faster runner, still the smarter student. 

Somehow nothing you could do was good enough for anyone, compared to her. After years and years of living in her shadow, you went your own way, meeting Sam and Dean. They were, for some reason, impressed with you and your hunting skills, being the first people to think so. The three of you became close friends quickly, and you became their third. They never made you feel left out, and always counted you as family. 

You knew that was all gonna change the second your sister got here.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N),” Dean exclaimed, running into your room.

“Dear lord, Dean! That’s annoying!” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Thanks, kid. Sam fell asleep on the war room table. Let’s prank him,” Dean smiled cheekily.

“Prank? Dean! What are you, five?!” you exclaimed.

“Yes, I am. You coming? I’m gonna dump some salt in his water, mix a little vinegar in it too,” Dean started.

You laughed softly, shaking your head.

“You have fun with that,” you said.

“You’re not gonna help me?” Dean walked to you, frowning.

“No, I’m tired too. I’m gonna go to bed,” you have him a soft smile.

“Are you feeling okay?” he put his hand on your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m not sick. I’m just sleepy,” you replied, moving away from him.

“Okay then…. goodnight kid,” he kissed your forehead, walking out.

You looked back at your sister’s text, still thinking whether or not to answer. You could always tell her you’re not here.

You jumped slightly, hearing your phone ring.

“Hey,” you answered the call from your sister.

“You didn’t reply to my text!” she exclaimed.

“Sorry, I was busy,” you lied.

“Busy? Doing what? You have no life,” she replied.

Oh great, because you definitely missed her insults about your life.

“You caught me,” you said softly.

“That’s what I thought. But really, let's meet up! I miss you,” she fake pouted.

“Uhm,” you paused, you knew what your answer was, but you knew you couldn't say it.

“(Y/N)! Sam woke up! Save me!” Dean ran into your room, hiding behind you.

“Dude! I told you to stop!” Sam ran in, yelling.

“Guys, I-I’m on the phone,” you rolled your eyes.

“Guys? Who’s there? Who are you with?” your sister immediately asked you.

“No one,” you replied.

“Sam won't touch you,” Dean put his hands on your shoulders, using you as his shield.

“Dean!” you yelled.

“Who’s Dean?” your sister asked.

“No one, just give me a minute,”, you put your phone down.

“Guys!” you whined.

“Shut up! I’m on the phone with my sister!” you exclaimed.

“You have a sister?” both brothers asked, looking at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I wanna meet her,” Dean took your phone.

“Dude!” you yelled, reaching for your phone as he kept running back.

“Hi! I’m Dean! What’s your name?!” Dean yelled into your phone, running throughout the bunker.

“Oh, Gemma?! That's a pretty name!” he said.

“Dean stop this isn't funny!” you yelled, running after Dean.

“Yeah, it'd be amazing to meet you! You should come over! Yeah, I’ll text you our address! I should give (Y/N) her phone now, bye!” Dean yelled.

You jumped, tackling him as the two of you fell to the ground.

“Ow,” you both groaned.

“Dean! That is not acceptable!” you yelled at him, pulling your phone from his hand.

“I wanted to meet your sister,” he shrugged.

Sam helped you up, as you exhaled sharply, walking back to your room, slamming the door behind you.

“Dude, you made her mad. Go apologize,” Sam elbowed Dean.

“Fine,” Dean knocked at your door.

“Go away,” you sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“I’m going to sleep,” you said, ignoring the rest of what he had to say.

You laid down in your bed, letting out a shaky breath.

---

Every weakness that you had was her strength, every strength you had, she could do better. Nothing ever changed, she never changed. Why would she change now?

“(Y/N)!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around you tightly.

“Hey, Gemma,” you replied softly, hugging her back.

“Why are you dressed so bland? Flannel? Really?” she looked at you, raising her eyebrow.

You just shrugged, leading her into the bunker.

“T-This is Sam, and this is Dean,” you introduced them.

“Nice to meet you,” Dean smiled, shaking his hand.

He looked at you, mouthing an apology again. You exhaled and nodded your hand.

“So, how was your hunt?” you asked her.

“Easy,” she shrugged.

“What were you hunting?” Sam asked her.

“A nest of vampires,” your sister replied.

“A nest? That ain’t easy,” Dean scoffed.

“Well, I’ve never faced a hunt that was hard in my life. I’ve taken out vamps, wolves, changelings, shapeshifters, demons, jinns, et cetra,” your sister started bragging.

You already knew how this was gonna go.

“Uhm, you can put your stuff in-” you started, only to get cut off by her.

“You can take it. Thanks, dear,” she smiled, looking back at Sam and Dean.

You gave her an irritated look, before taking her bag and walking to the guest room.

And it begins.

----

You sat at the other end of the table, watching your sister, while Sam and Dean crowded her. She told stories about your childhood, mainly bragging about herself, and bringing up your embarrassing mistakes.

“So, thanks to her, we had to go back to the nest,” your sister finished yet another story.

It’s been a whole day of this, your sister was only here for one day, and already somehow took the only people that cared about you away. You weren’t shocked, just disappointed. It was gonna happen, inevitably. 

“Wow, that’s crazy. How long have you been hunting for anyway?” Dean turned to you, asking.

“For a long time,” you replied softly.

“Let’s go to a bar!” your sister exclaimed.

“I don’t drink,” you replied.

“Oh, now that’s dumb. I’m sure Sam or Dean do,” she looked at both Winchesters, who nodded.

“Great, let’s go,” your sister stood up.

“Wait, we shouldn’t leave (Y/N) alone. Don’t you wanna spend time with your sister?” Dean asked, looking at Gemma.

“We can hang out tomorrow. I don’t have anywhere important to go, so I can stay here for however long,” she smiled to you, walking away.

“Maybe I should stay back,” Dean suggested.

“Or I can,” Sam said.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just gonna go to bed anyway. You three have fun,” you nodded, giving them a soft smile.

They both paused, before leaving.

“Okay, see you later, kid,”

---

You groaned, pushing yourself up on your desk, examining your wound. As it turned out, your sister didn’t finish the nest, and they knew where she was, where the bunker was. 

Decapitated bodies lied in the hallway, but your biggest worry was bleeding out.

You pressed a cloth against your wound, groaning softly.

It wasn’t gonna be too bad if you fixed it now.

You tied a cloth tightly around the wound, being sure to quickly remove the corpses before stitching yourself up.

By the time you were done, you could barely stand straight. You grabbed a bottle of whiskey, using it to clean your wound as you headed to your room.

“I thought you didn’t drink!” you heard your sister’s voice yell as you jumped. You saw Sam and Dean standing beside her, giving you a concerned look.

“No, I’m not drinking,” you started.

“You are drinking! I knew it! You just didn’t want to spend time with me!” she exclaimed.

“No-” you said, only for her to cut you off.

“I came all this way! You haven’t changed one bit! Y-You’re still a selfish liar, w-who hates me!” she yelled.

“That’s not,” your eyes watered slightly.

“Yes, it is! That’s how it’s been for years! You’re just a stupid liar and your world revolves around yourself! You never cared about anyone or anything that wasn’t gonna help you! I bet you don’t even care about Sam and Dean. You’re probably just using them for your benefit!” she yelled at you.

“Okay, now wait,” Dean interrupted.

You wiped your tears, running to your room, locking the door behind you.

“(Y/N), wait,” Sam said, running to your door.

“None of that was true, (Y/N) is the most selfless, smartest, most amazing person we ever met. She might be your sister but she’s our family,” Dean glared at your sister.

She rolled her eyes, walking off.

---

“(Y/N)?” you heard Dean’s voice from the other side of the door.

You ignored it, as tears fell down your face, turning in your bed.

“Open the door, kid. Please,” he knocked.

You sniffled softly, ignoring him.

You heard a soft noise, as he picked your lock, opening your door.

“Please, just go,” you said softly.

“Not until you talk to me,” he held his hand out to you, as you took it, sitting up.

“Holy crap, you’re bleeding, (Y/N)!” Dean gasped, noticing some blood on your bed sheet.

“I was bleeding. I'm fine now,” you said.

“What the hell happened?!” he yelled.

“Turns out Gemma didn't finish the nest. But it's fine. I took care of it and I’m fine,” you said.

“What? By yourself?” Dean exclaimed.

“Yes, Dean. I’m not useless, I can handle a few vamps,” you spat.

“I never said you were useless. Talk to me, (Y/N).”  

“Dean, you won’t understand,” you sniffled, looking at him.

“Just tell me,” he said, putting his hand on your cheek, softly wiping away your tears.

“I spent my whole life with her. Living in her shadow. Nothing I ever do is enough, c-compared to her,” you stopped, as more tears fell from your face.

“Everyone always compares me to her, everyone always replaces me with her,” you shut your eyes, as your whole body shook, holding in a sob.

Dean wrapped his arms around you, his big brother instincts taking effect immediately.

“Listen here, kid. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me and Sam. You’re irreplaceable to us. You’re smart, you’re an amazing hunter, you’re selfless. I’m sorry for calling her here. I didn’t know about all this,” Dean said softly.

“It’s not a big deal. I just wish she didn't always spin things on me,” you cried softly.

“Look at me,” he put his hands on your shoulder, bending down to look you in the eye.

“You are incredible, (Y/N). You’re a good person. Your sister’s alright, but I don't like her. Not when she treats you like crap. She’s had something to say about whatever you were doing all day. She doesn't know you. No one knows you like we do. You ain't blood, but you're family and we’re more your family than she will ever be. You’re perfect just the way you are. She won’t have to stay with us again, she’ll leave tomorrow, okay?” Dean looked up at you, rubbing your arms softly.

“S-She’s staying for the whole week,” you sniffled.

“No, she’s not. She’s gonna leave tomorrow, whether she wants to or not, okay?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

You nodded your head softly, wiping the tears falling from your face.

“Good, now let’s go to bed,” Dean kisses your forehead, laying down in your bed.

“Dean,” you started.

“I ain't leaving you alone, kid,” he replied, making room for you.

You smiled softly, snuggling into his arms, slowly drifting to sleep.

[frustratedpoetwrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter Characters: James Potter, Lily Evans Potter Additional Tags: Morning After, Goodbyes, Sharing a Shower, reluctant goodbyes Series: Part 2 of The Marauders Pub Soho Summary:

The morning after a night of passion Lily has to leave a soundly sleeping James, but she doesn't want to.

Lily lay staring at the skylight, and watched the patch of sky turn from black to indigo. She just gazed without moving, hardly even blinking as it gradually grew lighter and lighter. She had not been able to find any rest for more than a few brief snatches, as tired as she was. Her whole body zinged with electricity, her brain abuzz with everything that had happened last night and had continued to happen throughout the night. She glanced over towards the body sleeping soundly beside her, the sheets pooled around his waist showing his toned back. He had acquired some new tattoos in the six years since she had last seen him. When she’d remarked on the delicately detailed Lily that was now inked on his right side sweeping across his ribs, he had quipped back that it marked the spot where she had stuck her knife in him when she’d left him to pursue her career. That remark had stung more than she wanted to admit, even though she did deserve it. 

She had told him last night she never wanted to leave his side again, and she had meant it. Especially at that moment, standing in the bar he basically built, surrounded by the memories of their childhood. Engulfed by the overwhelming scent of James himself. At that moment it had been so easy to say yes to all of his questions, say yes to coming here to his place instead of going back to her hotel as she had planned. She wished she could stay in this moment, with the old day finished and the new not yet begun. In this bed with this man forever. But all too soon she would have to leave. She needed to get on a plane in a few hours. If she didn’t, then any dream she had to live in London permanently would be gone.

She glanced around James's attic room trying to see if he even had a clock. She was amazed that he still lived like this. There was a rail for his clothes and a bed so low it was almost like the mattress was on the floor. That was it. She hoped he didn’t live like this all the time, but she suspected his life and energy was spent at the bar.

It had looked so beautiful, the large dark polished oak panels and the brass rail, the small stage with the piano sitting proudly. And all the pictures on the walls of their schooldays. It had always been his dream to run a bar, and the four Marauders had made it a successful reality, but she knew who had been driving it from day one, and she was  incredibly proud of him for that.

She reached for her clutch bag and fumbled in it for her phone. It did not light up when she tapped the screen. Her battery must have died. 

Fuck.

She glanced over at James, still sleeping soundly, and contemplated waking him, but she knew he was exhausted. She had wiped him out, she thought to herself, suppressing a giggle, it had been a wonderful night. He had not forgotten any of the things he used to do to make her whole body hum, and he had learned a few new things too she had discovered. His strength and stamina had greatly increased. Not that she had expected him to hold himself chaste for her, but she still had a pang of jealousy at the thought that other women had touched him, had been with her James. Had they asked about his tattoo? She always thought of him as hers, even though she hadn’t exactly expected to ever come back to him that day she had left. Any time before now when she had considered it she talked herself out of it because she was convinced he would be with someone else.

She rolled over onto her back again, and looked up at the skylight. 

What time was it?

She’d hoped she wouldn't have to do this but she slid off the edge of the bed and took James’s phone out of the pocket of his jeans and opened it, shaking her head at the stubborn distrust for technology that meant he still used an old flip phone. Although at the moment Lily was grateful because she didn’t have to worry about unlocking it.

She tapped in the digits for her assistant's number as she crept into his ensuite, slipping on the dressing gown that was on a hook behind the door.

The phone rang just once before she heard an unsure “Hello?”

“Hey, Jess it’s me…”

“Lily!” came the scream, causing her to jump and nearly drop the phone. “Where the fucking hell have you been? I’ve been calling you all night. Your meeting has been moved up, you need to get to the airport right now!”

“What? Oh, fuck!” Lily took a breath and closed her eyes as her assistant kept rambling over the phone, talking so fast Lily could hardly understand them. “Jess, Jess, Jessie!” She tried to speak urgently and sharply without making too much noise. “I need you to bring me my bag and my suit, the green one. Put an extra pair of underwear in my bag.”

“I’m sorry, Lily, but your overnight bag won’t be enough, I've had to pack your suitcase, you’ll be staying for a week. They’ve sent a whole itinerary, but when we left Hong Kong I didn’t think to pack any of your formal wear. I’ve arranged for the concierge to book a fitting for after your first meeting, once you’ve checked in. Where are you anyway? I need to let Terrence know where we need to come and get you.” 

Lily went to answer then realised she had no actual idea of the address. It wasn’t far from the bar, she didn’t think. But she had been interested in other things besides looking out the car window to notice what neighbourhood they were in. Lily looked up as the door to the bathroom swung open gently, revealing a conscious James leaning against the frame wearing only his battered looking jeans, his tousled hair framing his tired-looking face and his glasses perching on the end of his nose, as if they were mere moments from falling off.

She let the phone fall from her ear slightly as he continued to stare at her, a wry smile reaching only the edge of his lips. 

“Something tells me you aren’t staying for breakfast.” His tone was light but she heard the resignation behind it. As she looked over at her childhood sweetheart, an idea struck her.

“Jess? You still there? Pick me up outside the Marauders’ Pub in Soho. Yeah? And Jess? I'm gonna need another plane ticket.”

“Well, okay boss but they are sending you a priv…..” Lily did not hear the last of her assistant’s words as she closed the flip phone and tossed it back to him.

“I can't believe you still use that antique.” He caught it deftly in his left hand and dropped it into his back pocket.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you dick around with my life again,” he replied, barely even trying to mask the disappointment.

“As much as I'd love to have this argument again, I really need you to pack yourself a bag. Do you have a good suit that fits you?”

He shook his head and blinked at her as she brushed past him to his rail of clothes and started looking through them. He still had some nice attire here, a lot of it she remembered from their life before.

“Lily, wait,” he called after her but she took no notice. She had no time. Already, in her head, she was mapping out what she needed to do. A whole week with these people. The one day originally planned would have been torture, but this... If she had back up maybe she could make it work.  “Stop.” He placed a hand on hers as it rested on the next coathanger. She looked up into his gorgeous eyes as they shone with all the colours as his emotions played out across his face. He was always so expressive. “What are you doing?”

“I want you to come with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You’re your own boss, you could take the time off. It’s not like you’re the only one in charge. What about Sirius? Or Remus? Or even Pete?” She paused, “Is Pete doing okay? I thought he wanted to go in a, erm, different direction but I saw his name up there with the rest of you?”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Pete is a silent partner, he helps out when he can but his wife made him join their family business, he helps by keeping them away.” His hand dropped to his side. “Lily I can’t afford to just drop everything, everybody else has other responsibilities, I’m the only one left to run it and I won't let it fail. My staff depends on me.”

“James, this is me telling you I don’t want to leave you again. I don’t want to go on this trip without you by my side, I could use someone in my corner. I could also use a devilishly handsome, charming, charismatic–” he raised an eyebrow at her seductive tone but didn’t stop her putting her hands on his chest, tracing the antlers that spread across them. 

 “My tattoos aren’t very corporate,” he murmured, his voice sounding deep and throaty. she shrugged in reply,

“You’d be surprised what people hide under their suits these days.” She told him with a twinkle, sobering when his lips thinned. “Please James. I need you.” She hadn’t realised how true those words were until she had spoken them to the universe.

“I’m sorry Lily, but my staff need me more. They rely on me.”

“So you’ve never taken a day off? Never had to call in sick?” Before he could answer her questions an idea struck her. “What if I pay your staff for the week? How much would that be?” He stood for a moment apparently stunned then started laughing and stepped away from her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She tried not to look upset at his reaction to her suggestion. She stood watching him and waited for his mirth to subside.

“Oh, you are actually serious? You want to pay me so I will spend time with you?” He shook his head as his mirth still rippled through him. “This isn’t Pretty Woman and I’m not some, some...rentboy you picked up off the street.” 

Now he sounded angry. James’ phone started buzzing in his back pocket. She had not thought that offering to pay his staff would equate  to her hiring him as an escort service. Her brain hadn’t gone that way at all. She let him answer his call, as she rushed back to the bathroom for a much needed shower and tried to clear her head.

James may have skimped on bedroom furniture but he hadn’t skimped on his wet room. The shower was a walk-in style and big enough for four people, the naturally textured tiles on her feet were warm as she walked in, the large slabs of highly polished sand-coloured stone on the walls were so neatly fitted she couldn’t even see the joins. 

Turning on the shower filled the room with hot steam and the reassuring splats of water droplets peppering the tiles. Stepping into it, she gasped at the pressure. It was like standing in a tropical rainstorm. She just stood there unmoving, letting the water rush over her enjoying the sensation as it beat down on her head.

“That was your PA on the phone. I gave them this address so you can leave from here.” James said as he stepped into the bathroom like they did this kind of thing all the time. “Thought you might want to have some fresh clothes to wear.”

“You really won’t come?” She asked, trying one last time. She forced herself to keep her eyes forward when she realised he was joining her by the sound of his jeans hitting the tiled floor. 

Despite their recent intimacy, or perhaps because of it, being this close to his naked body turned her core white-hot. She tried very hard not to react as she felt his naked skin brush up against hers.  His arm reached past and grabbed an unlabelled metal bottle from the small alcove. Then his fingers were in her hair and her nostrils were filled with the scent of an English summer garden.

“Is it okay that I join you in here? Thought it would save some time.”

“Yes, okay, it’s absolutely fine,” she tried to keep her voice as neutral as his but even she could hear the breathiness.  

“I told your assistant I can’t, it’s not my scene at all,” he told her conversationally, as if he wasn’t standing butt naked behind her in the shower. He was trying to calm her down, trying to talk about what needed to be talked about. The fact they were taking a shower together didn’t seem to phase him at all. Determinedly, she tried to follow his lead.

“This is not me running away from you. I need you to understand that.” She hummed in pleasure as his fingers massaged deeper into her hair. “I’m sorry if I offended you, offering to pay.” 

 “I’m still not sure if I find it more funny or offensive,” he began. “I can’t say I’m not tempted to run away with you, but you know as well as I do how much of a distraction I would be. You need to be at your best. I will be fine, I’ll just have to trust you’ll come back. That you're not making me the poor jilted lover once more.” He told her. She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to worry, wanted to say all the things that she had agonised about saying as she lay awake beside him in his bed, but no words could adequately explain how she was feeling. So she turned and reached for him, pushing her fingers up across his stubble studded cheeks into his hair and kissing him soundly. Breaking the kiss he tilted her head back as his lips dragged kisses across her throat. She didn’t need to ask where his mind was right now, she could feel his arousal pressing against her stomach. All too soon her brain caught up with her and soundly put on the brakes. “Not that I don’t enjoy where this is going, but we need to stop.” She took a few quick breaths as his hands continued to soap her breasts. “I don’t have the time and I’m a little tender.”

“You were the one who started things, Evans. I was just helping you wash,” he said innocently, amusement dancing in his eyes. But he did take his hands off her body and even though she had asked him to, she mourned the loss of contact. “In all honesty, I don’t think I have it in me right now to perform at my best anyway.” 

“Let’s just put this on pause for now then shall we?” She told him, giving him a gentle kiss, hoping he understood how much he continued to mean to her. Lily dipped her head to rinse the bubbles out of her hair. It felt like silk as she combed her fingers through it.

“What is that shampoo? It’s amazing!”

“It’s a prototype. Remus’ company makes it, the only thing that’s come close to making my hair behave. He’s made it his personal mission to tame it. He gives me a new formula just about every week.” He pointed to the small bathroom cabinet above the sink. “The conditioner’s in there, it's one you have to leave in. I put towels on the hook.” She stepped aside once she was rinsed, letting him have the full force of the shower. 

“Does he always make it smell like flowers?”

“Yup.” She expected him to elaborate but when he didn’t she just let it go and stepped out of the shower. She found the small spray bottle in the cabinet simply labelled conditioner and scrunched some into her hair as she watched James wash his. The bubbles slid down his frame in ways that made her wish she could just step back in there with him.

Lily wished she could continue to stare at him but her logical brain was kicking in to tell her all that she still had to do. Moving back to the bedroom, she twisted her hair up out of the way while she looked for anywhere he would store things. There wasn’t even a cupboard in the bedroom so she padded her way through to the living space. She barely remembered it from the night before, and she was stunned at how minimally he lived.

It was a beautiful apartment, the exposed red brick looked amazing with the warm honey-coloured wooden floor. The living space was a good size for London, the kitchen looked brand new with a wooden worktop that matched the floor and clean white cupboards. She spotted the coffee machine, and hunted in the cupboards to see if he had any beans, suppressing her irritation when every one was empty. 

The more she looked around his place, the less it felt like he lived here at all. There was a giant modular brown leather sofa taking up the majority of space in the living area, a coffee table that looked like it was made out of granite, and a giant tv on the wall. 

“What is this place to you James Potter?” She mused as she looked around. She was tempted to start rummaging in drawers (if there were any) but it felt like possibly a step too far for now. 

The intercom buzzed impatiently making her jump guiltily and nearly drop her towel. As she stared at the white box on the wall and wondered how to operate it James came striding out of the bedroom holding a hand towel around his waist, hair still dripping. He lifted the receiver then buzzed to let the person come up. “It’s your assistant.” He explained before vanishing back to the bedroom.

Lily stood looking through the peephole until she saw her assistant's blonde head appear from the stairs.

She opened the door and ushered them in quickly. Taking the bag from them awkwardly with one hand.

Jessie looked around and hummed appreciatively. “This is nice, you could do a lot with this place. When are they moving in?”

“I don’t know,” Lily replied quietly. “I’m going to go change. Can you play nice with James, please? It would be great if you two get on.”

“Well I’ll behave if he will,” Jessie swept an invisible strand of hair out their face before relenting to Lily’s reproachful look. “Alright, alright. When we spoke on the phone they were pleasant so I can be too.” 

“Great, I’ll be super quick,” as she made her way back into the bedroom James stepped out wearing that same pair of jeans he seemed incredibly fond of and one of his many black Marauders Pub t-shirts. He put out a hand to stop her as she tried to slip past him.

“I’m going to get out of your hair,” he said quietly. She could tell by the tone he didn’t want to be here when she left, didn’t want to be the one left waving by the door. She understood that in an instant, saw it in his sad eyes, and the hesitant touch he placed on her arm. 

“Okay.” With a glance at her assistant she walked him back into the bedroom. “This was not how I wanted this to go,” she said, keeping her voice down once she knew they were alone.

“Saying goodbye brings back bad memories,” he told her shuffling his feet and running a hand through his hair. “I want to believe you're coming back this time.”

“Of course I’m coming back. I’ll call you, every day. But could you do something for me?” She asked, reaching to snake her arms around his neck.

“Can you get yourself a new phone so we can video chat?”

“Yes, Evans I think I can manage that,” he told her, leaning down to kiss her goodbye for the last time. 

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part VII (x OC)

Summary: Maggie tries to make things right, with a little push from her mama.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 5.8k

a/n: I know, I know— please just let our babies be happy ♥️ and so it was. Also, big ups to my tumblr gf @idmakeitbehave​ for being my beta the last two chapters.

Series Masterlist

———

One week. 

That’s how long it had been since their argument. Spencer had driven back to his apartment in silence, absolutely stunned by the way things had blown up. 

They’d gotten back from the case in Utah on the fifth of January, and he’d driven straight to Maggie’s, ready to give her a belated New Year’s kiss. Immediately upon entering her apartment, he knew something was wrong. Her hug was stiff, her kiss brief, her eye contact minimal. He’d spent the night, but they barely touched, and she left early for work without waking him. He’d let himself out and texted her later in the day to invite her over for dinner. 

Dinner hadn’t been any less awkward, and when he felt awkward, he knew it was bad. He finally couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he’d called it out. He had expected some resistance, but he hadn’t expected that. Maggie never spoke to him with any malice at all, even when he was actually doing something that irritated her. She was the queen of healthy communication. So for her to speak to him like that meant that the underlying issue was much, much worse than he’d originally thought.

He’d gone over their conversations a thousand times, looking desperately for the moment that it went wrong. After some deep consideration, he was certain that something had happened on New Year’s Eve. He just wasn’t sure what. Maggie was insistent that she wasn’t bothered by the declined call, but he still wished he could go back in time and answer it. He was pretty sure the seeds of their argument had sprouted in that moment, regardless of what she said.  

Spencer knew she was a creature of habit, and that sometimes she needed space to process and experience her emotions. And if he was being honest, he needed some space after the argument, too. But usually she would have at least texted him by now. 

He sighed and set down his newspaper, realizing he’d read the same page four times and hadn’t retained any of it. It was Friday, and he knew she was working. But still his fingers itched to dial her number. He picked up the phone, pressing a key to light up the screen yet again. 

No new messages. 

He dropped the phone back to the table with a little more force than was necessary. He decided he’d give her the rest of the weekend. If he didn’t hear from her by Sunday, he’d have to do something. 

…

Maggie dropped her bag on the floor inside the door and turned to lock the deadbolt. She had managed to sneak out of the building without being stopped by Anita, and she thanked the universe for small miracles. 

She didn’t want to have to explain herself. She didn’t want anyone to know what an absolute troll she’d been. Considering that Sam and Spencer had practically become attached at the hip since they’d started hanging out more, Anita was bound to ask about him. 

She showered and ordered Thai food, snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie with Roald. She settled on Dumplin’— a favorite for the body positivity, the southern drawls, and the Dolly Parton drag. 

And then she came to the argument outside of Harpy’s and lost what little emotional stability she had left. 

“Never took you for the type that cares much what people think.”

“I can’t, Bo. And that might make me a coward, but—”

“It does. Willowdean Dixon, I think you’re beautiful. To hell with anyone who’s ever made you feel less than that.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until Roald meowed in distress. She choked out a sob and stroked over his ears, closing her eyes in defeat. “I really fucked this up, huh?”

It had only been one week, but it felt like years since Spencer walked out of her apartment. She’d stayed in bed for the entire weekend, crying on and off. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. Owen had knocked over the first domino, but she’d done nothing to stop the rest from falling. 

Spencer had done everything right. He’d done everything she asked, and she’d thrown it all back in his face. He had made the comparison to Mitchell Park, and he was absolutely right. She’d done the exact same thing, only she had almost a year’s worth of ammunition, and she cut a hell of a lot deeper. 

Roald nuzzled against her, but she nudged him away— she didn’t even deserve the comfort. Instead, she fumbled in the couch cushions for her phone, swiping open the screen and tapping her favorites list, thumb hovering over Spencer’s name. Then she tapped on the name right above it and blew out a breath. 

The line connected and rang three times before she picked up. “Hey, sugar! Your ears must be ringin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about callin’ you.”

“Hey, mama,” Maggie breathed. 

Her mother’s tone changed from chipper to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

She leaned forward to the coffee table to grab Spencer’s scarf— somehow left behind in her apartment— rubbing it between her fingers. “I— I really messed up.” 

“Oh, Lord. You need bail money?”

Despite herself, Maggie laughed wetly. “Oh my god, mama. No, I don’t need bail money.”

“Well, if you made bail it can’t be that bad,” Rose insisted. 

“I didn’t— I’m not in jail, for Christ’s sake.” Maggie ran a hand over her face. “I messed things up with Spencer.”

“Well, we can fix that,” Rose responded matter of factly. “What happened?”

“We were fighting, and I said some really, really awful things,” Maggie admitted, tears spilling over her lash line. 

Rose scoffed. “Honey, I say awful things to your father all the time, and we’ve been married almost forty years.”

Maggie heaved a long sigh. “Not like this, mama.” 

Her mother hummed in consideration. “Well, what were y’all fightin’ about?”

“It’s complicated,” Maggie hedged, toying with the fringe of the scarf. 

Rose clicked her tongue. “Do ya want my help or not?” 

Maggie dropped her head back against the couch. “I ran into Owen on New Year’s Eve—”

“Well, I hope you told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Rose practically growled. 

Maggie closed her eyes as the tears tracked hot down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I— I let him get under my skin, and then I didn’t want to tell Spencer about it because it’s embarrassing, but he knew something was wrong, and he wouldn’t stop asking about it.” She had to pause and suck in a hiccuping breath, releasing it on a sob. “So I yelled at him and said all kinds of terrible things, and then he left, and now I think maybe we broke up, and I’ve literally never been so sad in my whole life.” 

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then she heard Rose sniffling. “Really shoulda had your brothers knock the mess out of that son of bitch when we had the chance. He's been gone five years, and he’s still hurtin’ you every chance he gets.”

Maggie swiped uselessly at the tear tracks on her cheeks, sniffling pathetically. “And now I hurt the person who’s spent the last year singlehandedly undoing all of his awful handiwork.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rose cooed. Maggie could hear the creak of the floorboards as her mother walked through her childhood home. “You said he knew somethin’ was wrong, right? I can almost guarantee that he’s still just wonderin’ what’s goin’ on. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s still a man. And men are dumb, sugar. You gotta spell it out for ‘em. Have you talked to him since?”

“No.” Fresh tears spilled over Maggie’s lashes as the thoughts that had kept her from calling him spilled out of her mouth. “What if it was too far? What if I ruined everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?”

Ross heaved out a long breath. “That’s a lot of what ifs, Maggie Mae.”

“What if I’m right?” she whispered. 

“And what if you’re not?” Rose countered. “That boy loves you. Anyone could see that, clear as day. He’d do just about anything for you.” Rose paused, and Maggie heard the springs of the bed squeak as she sat. “But you gotta let him, sweetheart. Right now you’re takin’ away his chance to do that. You’re makin’ the decision for him.” 

Maggie listened as her mother’s advice crackled over the line, and for the first time in a week, she felt a tiny sliver of hope. 

“If he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, you need to let him tell you that. Don’t settle for a what if. Find out for sure, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life worryin’ and wonderin’, sugar.” 

…

That evening found Spencer in his usual spot on the couch, reclined against the arm with a book in hand. He’d promised himself he’d give Maggie the weekend to herself— that he’d let her come to him. That didn’t stop him from checking his phone obsessively; it never buzzed with any new calls or messages, but he still looked every seven minutes. 

The sound of the buzzer jolted his body to attention. He checked his watch and drew his brows together before closing his book and scrambling to cross to the intercom, a tiny seed of hope beginning to germinate. He pressed the button to talk, calling, “Yes?” into the speaker box and then listening for the response. 

“Hi.”

Her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the crackle of the speaker. He buzzed her in without hesitation, crossing to the door and opening it immediately. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning at the top of the landing and pausing.

His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked utterly exhausted, dressed in black sweatpants and a soft purple sweater, a black puffer jacket over top. She was holding his scarf, wringing it in between her hands. Her eyes were ringed red, and the bags under them were worse than his. 

He watched as she crossed the landing, coming to stand quietly in front of him. He’d known something was wrong, but the way she looked now made him wonder just how long she’d been battling whatever private demons she wouldn’t let him in on. 

“I, um.” She cleared her throat, and it was clear she’d been crying from the thickness of her voice. “I have a lot to say— again. But since I was such an asshole, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say anything you need to say first.” 

He’d imagined this conversation countless times over the last week, and never once had he thought it would start like this. “Um. Well. You— you really hurt me.”

She could barely look at him. “I know.”

He swallowed. “Please don’t do that again.” 

She shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t. I won’t ever again.”

Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “I know I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m a pretty good profiler. And I can tell when something’s wrong.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just asking you to tell me when I do something that makes you upset.”

“You— you didn’t do anything wrong. I—” He watched her squeeze her eyes shut. “God, I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m just— I’m sorry for so many things. For lying about being fine, for being up on my high horse about communicating and then not actually doing it, for being an absolute bitch.”

He wanted to argue— she wasn’t a bitch— but he could tell she was far from done. 

“I— I thought therapy was supposed to teach me how to talk about things, but this still feels… impossible to say out loud,” she admitted, fingers fumbling with the fabric of the scarf. “It’s embarrassing and ridiculous. But I— I have deep-seated insecurities. That I’m not really that smart or interesting or particularly special.” 

He thought back to that night in Mitchell Park and felt the guilt all over again. He’d practically said those exact words to her— it was no wonder she was feeling this way. 

“And every person that I’ve ever been with has— really reinforced those ideas, so for a long time they were just… a set part of my self-image,” she explained, dragging a hand over her messy hair. “I thought— I thought that I was over it, but I— I don’t know. Maybe you never really are.”

His brain sorted through every moment of their year together, pinging off the countless examples of her self-doubt and insecurity. She was easily the most wonderful person he knew, but he could clearly see the cracks in the facade if he looked close enough. How had he missed it for so long? 

“And then I met you, and you…” Maggie let out a wry laugh. “You’re easily the most interesting person I’ve ever met, but you made me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m interesting, too. Like I’m worthy of being with you, like I’m— like I’m good enough.”

He felt his heart splintering into a thousand tiny shards— good enough? 

“But I can’t— I still have a hard time believing it sometimes. And I— I’ve been letting myself keep you at arms length. Letting you see parts of me, but… never giving you everything,” she admitted. 

He watched her struggle to get the words out, her voice thick with the act of holding back sobs. He hadn’t realized she was carrying all of this. She was so good at supporting him and loving him through all of his trauma and issues, he hadn’t stopped to consider just how much she needed him, too. 

She continued, “It’s why I took so long to say I love you… why I couldn’t talk to you last week. Because I just—” She shrugged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to realize that I’m really nothing special. That you’re getting bored, or there’s someone who’s a better fit for you, or one million other things. That I’m needy, and annoying, and too much work.”

A fresh tear tracked down her cheek, and he felt his own eyes filling. She never failed to put a stop to his own insecurities— reminding him that she liked his rambling, that he wasn’t irritating, that he was just the right amount. In his eyes, she was perfect. He would have never guessed she felt this way about herself. 

She continued, “That’s what happened before, and none of those guys were even half as wonderful as you are.” She swiped a hand haphazardly over her cheeks, looking at him sheepishly. “And then I was hurtful and awful, and I realized that I was just creating a self-fulfilling prophecy and I don’t— I don’t want to do that.” 

Her hand shook a little as she brought it back down to twist in his scarf. “Because it’s never— I’ve never felt like this. I've never been this happy with anyone else, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up. Even if sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough.”

Her voice cracked on a stifled cry, and his chest physically ached. “And if you never want to see me again, I completely understand, and I’ll leave you alone, but I— I’m just so sorry. And I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard to be better.” She sucked in a ragged breath and let it out on an exhausted sigh. “And that’s, um— that’s it. If you want me to go, I—”

“I don’t want you to go,” he interrupted.

Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”

“Of course not.” Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. “Of course not. C’mere.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, she was tumbling into his arms with a choked off sob. He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, walking her to the couch and sitting them both down. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear into thin air. 

“Maggie, I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But if you n-need space, I understand,” she sobbed. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need space. I think a week was long enough, don’t you?” he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair. 

She pulled back out of the hug, head down. “But I really hurt you.” 

He held her hand. “Yeah. And I really hurt you, too.”

She huffed out a breath. “That’s not how this works. I don’t get to hurt you just because you hurt me.”

“I know that.” He almost laughed at how indignant she sounded. “I’m not saying that we should hurt each other. I’m saying that sometimes it happens. And when it does, we apologize, and we forgive, and we move forward. And it’s okay if you need space. But I don’t.”

“What if you change your mind?” she whispered. 

“Then I promise I’ll tell you.” Spencer tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you what I need, as long as you tell me, too. We’ve gotta use all those communication skills we learn in therapy.”

Maggie nodded, and he pulled her into another hug. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “If I hadn’t heard from you by Sunday, I was planning to bother you until you talked to me.”

He could feel the beginning of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth where it was pressed to his shoulder. “You never bother me,” she mumbled. She held him for a moment longer and then released him from the hug and sat back, fidgeting with her hands and letting out a breath. 

“Sometimes I need to be told that my worst fears about myself aren’t true,” she admitted. “I know that’s so annoying, but—”

“It’s not annoying,” he interrupted, putting an immediate stop to that line of thought. “Telling you how amazing you are isn’t the chore that you think it is. I’m sorry that anyone ever convinced you that it was.” 

He covered her hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs softly along her skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dealing with all of this by herself. He hated that she’d ever felt anything less than adored. More than anything, he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her through it. And he wanted to make sure that he never made that mistake again. 

“A wise man told me once... that love is helping someone navigate their storms,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. She looked at him then, and he continued, “You’ve been my lighthouse for a long time, Maggie. And I— I’m trying desperately to be yours… But you have to let me.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. He let out a long breath and pulled her hands into his lap. “I understand that sometimes you need space, and that’s fine. I’m happy to give you whatever you need.” 

He shook his head. “Just— please don’t try to weather the storm by yourself. You can’t do it all alone; no one can.” He smiled ruefully. “I can tell you from experience that’s pretty much a guaranteed way to capsize your boat.”

His voice cracked a little at the end, and he felt a tear slip over his lash line. “I’ll help you repair your boat, or build a new one, or you can just float on mine for a while. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty sturdy, I think.”

She brought her fingers up to brush at his damp cheeks, and he met her eyes.  “What I’m not going to do is let you float out on the ocean by yourself. I love you too much.” 

She was quiet for a long moment, sniffling a little and just watching him— almost like she couldn’t believe he was there. She brought her hand back to his and laced their fingers together, rubbing her thumb along his. “I love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Want some tea?”

She was frowning when he pulled back, her brows drawn together. “I need to tell you about Owen.”

The conversation he’d had with Anita was suddenly on replay in Spencer’s head. 

… a real piece of shit… telling her lies about herself… isolating her… destroying her from the inside out...

He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to.” 

She shook her head. “Talking about him takes away his power. I have to stop letting him have so much sway over my emotions.” She looked at him then. “I do things I regret and hurt people I love.” 

He brought their joined hands up his lips. “Well, I’m here either way. And I’m still going to make you some tea.” 

He stood and pulled her up with him, bringing her into the kitchen and refusing to let go of her hand. He filled the kettle and turned it on, found a bag of her favorite tea and ripped it open with his teeth. He dropped the bag into her favorite mug, and then made a mug up for himself. 

“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you’d let go,” she said, the hint of a smile in her voice. 

“Mhm,” he agreed, but he made no move to release her hand. In fact, once he’d fumbled a spoonful of honey into each of the cups, he dropped the spoon into her mug and turned to pull her into another hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and closed his eyes as she brought her arms around his waist. “I missed you,” he whispered. 

She squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too. I’m so sorry.”

She buried her face in his neck, and he felt her breathe him in. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder and then settled his chin again. “Apology accepted, in case it wasn’t clear.”

They stood like that until the kettle began to whistle, and then Spencer kept her tucked underneath his arm as he turned to shut it off and pour the water into the mugs. They each grabbed a mug, making their way back to the couch and setting them on the coffee table to steep. Spencer kept their fingers intertwined and stayed quiet, letting her set the pace of the conversation. 

Maggie took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I guess I should start at the beginning. I, um— I had my first boyfriend in high-school: Cal Cunningham. He was older and cooler, and so I felt— I don’t know… special when he picked me.” She rolled her eyes. “In reality, he was rude, and arrogant, and kind of a misogynist. We didn’t date for very long, but it kind of… set me up on this path of dating guys who weren’t very nice.”

Spencer ran his thumb soothingly along hers, waiting for her to continue. “When I started college, I dated this guy Adam for a few months. He was nice enough but really self-centered and a little immature. When we broke up I just wanted to be on my own for a while.”

“I was single for two years after that, just kind of… finding myself and whatever.” Her eyes watched the path his thumb traced along her skin. “So when I started dating Owen at the end of junior year, it felt like my first real relationship. Like— we were both adults, and he dressed up for our dates, and he paid for things and bought me flowers and fit all the cliches.”

“And it was great at first,” she admitted. “We had a lot of the same friends, so we’d been hanging out for a while before we got together. He was a perfect gentleman, and he was smart, accomplished, and ambitious. I fell fast and I fell hard, and we were sort of— it feels so stupid to say this, but it felt like we were an it couple. 

“A few of us made plans to move to DC after graduation— my friend Jess and her boyfriend Chris, Sam and Anita,” she explained. “And Owen and I, obviously. We moved in together in an apartment downtown. And that’s when everything changed.”

She drew her brows together. “It was little things at first. Like he’d jokingly call me stupid for forgetting something, or he’d complain about one of my friends being annoying. But it snowballed pretty quickly. He’d tell me I was stupid, and he wasn’t joking. All of my friends irritated him to the point where we couldn’t hang out anymore— even our former mutual friends. He thought that teaching kindergarten was a mindless, pointless job.”

Spencer tried to keep his heart rate steady, his facial expressions neutral, but his blood pressure was on the rise. No one deserved to be spoken to like that, least of all Maggie. 

She continued, “We spent the holidays at my parents’ the second year we were dating, and he spent the entire car ride home explaining, in detail, how ridiculous and low-class he thought everything was.” 

She shook her head and rubbed her free hand over her face. “I know it’s insane to think that I stayed with him for so long, but I— he did a really good job of convincing me that I was— that I was nothing. That he was doing me a favor by loving me. That he could have anyone, but he chose me. No one else was going to, so I should be grateful.”

He balled his free hand into a fist to avoid squeezing her to death. When Anita had said Owen was a piece of shit… he hadn’t realized just how deeply she meant it.

She picked at the fabric of her sweatpants, staring intently at the tiny pills. “When someone says all of that to you on a daily basis, and you’re not hearing otherwise from anyone else— because no one knew what was going on… you start to believe it.”

Spencer relaxed his fist to bring his fingers up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead in a voiceless assurance that she was, in fact, everything. He felt her relax under the warm pressure of his lips, and he hoped that was enough for now. 

He sat back to let her continue. “We were together for five years, and we only broke up because he cheated on me. It was a long term affair; they were sleeping together for almost a year before I found out. And… a lot of people knew. Almost all of his friends knew. But I didn’t. I was still being this ridiculous, desperate little Suzy Homemaker trying to make him happy, even though he was still treating me like shit.”

She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “When I found out, I wasn’t even hurt. I was… embarrassed, I guess. But I was so relieved. I was so fucking relieved that I had a way out.”

He watched as her shoulders settled, almost like an actual weight had been lifted off of them. “I got a therapist and dropped all of the friends that were still hanging around with him. I moved to a new neighborhood, started hanging out with Anita and Sam, and just— started fresh. And I was doing really well. I had my moments of insecurity here and there, but for the most part, I was been able to recognize the moments when I was falling back into old thought patterns.”

She looked at him then, and her eyes were so soft and lovely that his heart ached. “You’re a big reason for that. You’re so open with how you feel about me, and… it makes things a lot easier.” She dropped her gaze with a sigh. “But I— he was at the party on New Year's. And I didn’t know he was going to be there until I was already there, and then it felt stupid to leave. I thought I could handle it—”

“And then I didn’t answer your call.”

“No, no.” She shook her head and reached her free hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s— Spencer, none of this is your fault.” She furrowed her brow, and the crease between them was practically an abyss. “He sort of— cornered me on the patio. I hadn’t seen him in like, four years? And he was complimenting me, and asking about you, and then he tried to— well, he did kiss me actually. I shoved him off, and he didn’t like that, and he did his whole Owen thing. Told me that he’d cheated because I was uninteresting and worthless. That eventually you’d get bored of me, too. Just, um— generally awful shit.”

She took a deep breath, and the rest steamrolled off her tongue and crushed his heart. “And then he just— left. And he’d absolutely demolished my self-image in less than ten minutes, and I was embarrassed and angry at myself, and then you didn’t answer, but I was kind of glad you didn’t because I didn’t actually want to talk about it. And I thought I could just move on, but then I was being weird, and you knew something was wrong. And I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, but you kept pressing me on it, and I just— I didn’t want to have to explain it all to you because I was afraid that— that maybe he was right.”

Maggie dissolved back into the couch, an indication of the emotional exhaustion that came with reliving personal trauma. Spencer moved closer and mirrored the position of her body against the cushions, bringing his face close enough to bump their noses together. They breathed the same air for one noiseless minute before she finally met his eyes.

“I need you to understand that not one single thing he said to you— on New Year’s or ever— was right, in either sense of the word. None of it was factual, and none of it was acceptable.” 

She nodded, and he continued, “You are the single best person that I know. You’re kind, brilliant, talented, and driven. You’re interesting, and wonderful, and lovely. You’re my absolute favorite person on the planet, and I will never get bored of you.” 

He let his eyes trace over all the angles and curves of her face, and then raised his eyebrows. “He’s lucky that I respect you enough not to go over your head, because what I’d like to do is run a full background check, find any and every possible transgression that could be legally investigated, and then use that information to ruin his life.” He tilted his head in thought. “That or— get really jacked and then beat the shit out of him.” 

“God, please don’t. As much as I’d love to watch that unfold,” she cupped his face in her hand, “you’re better than that. And he’s not worth either of our energies… I already wasted enough time dwelling on it and hurt you in the process.” She dropped her hand back to her lap with a sigh. “I spent so much time in that relationship that my brain didn’t know what to do with this good, healthy one.”

He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tight and then pressing a kiss to the back of each. He wouldn’t commit assault, since she’d asked him not to. But he wasn’t going to let Owen taint any part of his life with Maggie. 

“I’m so sorry that someone you loved made you think it was hard to love you. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed his lips together and mused, “But I think maybe love has a learning curve. Especially when you’re used to being hurt. You have to unlearn all the bullshit. People will have you thinking that you have to water yourself down, or change who you are, or make yourself more palatable. I thought that, too.” 

He brushed her hair back away from her face and waited for her to meet his eyes. “And then I met you. And you love all of it— all of me. All the rambling, all the quirks, and— even the dark parts, too.” 

She sniffled a little, but really smiled for the first time that night. “What’s not to love about you?”

He smiled back. “I’m not sure if you realize that I fully reciprocate that feeling. What’s not to love about you? I have a hard time thinking of even one thing about you that I don’t absolutely adore.”

“Even when I act like a horrid bitch?” she mumbled, only half joking.

He leaned his head against the couch cushion. “A year ago, you stood on my doorstep and gave me forgiveness— after I’d been a complete asshole to you…  I told you then that I wanted to learn how to love with you. I still do. In all the wonderful, and the weird, and the terrible. Even when we get it wrong.”

He shrugged, and then ran a soft fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “There is no one else I’d rather get it wrong with. Because when we get it right… it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to magic.”

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she brought both hands up to his face, holding him with an adoration that made his own eyes burn. “You can believe that you love me the most,” she whispered, “but just know that you’re wrong.” 

He leaned forward to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to her lips with a reverence that felt technicolor and devout and more magical than any trick he’d ever mastered. 

“Agree to disagree.”

———

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[derireo]

a threat to the community! ↦ itaru, tasuku, tsumugi, izumi

what’s wrong with liking boobs and showing interest in your friend’s brother and the other friend’s sister? izumi clearly doesn’t know.

it feels like it’s three against one, and tasuku doesn’t know how much more of this slander and nonsense he can take.

maybe he should just kill one of them.

「 3k words 」

cw: vulgarity, swearing, name-calling, crack treated seriously, a little ooc.

"Do you ever just wish you had a girlfriend with a huge pair of bazoingers." Itaru said one fine evening.

It wasn't even a question, but it had Izumi automatically nodding along to whatever nonsense the man was spouting.

"All the time." She muttered under her breath beside Tsumugi who was forced to pause in marking Taichi and Tenma's practice quiz.

...What.

"Do you ever wish you would just shut the fuck up." Tasuku hissed in annoyance, looking over his script to send a glare to Itaru who was tapping away at his phone.

Itaru rolled his eyes and repeatedly snapped his fingers in Izumi's direction, the woman looking up from the page she was helping Tsumugi mark. "You get me, right?"

The woman nodded and tapped her red pen against the coffee table, leaning to the side to rest her body weight against Tsumugi. "Hell yeah, brother."

Itaru switched his gaze to their blue haired friend and pointed at Tsumugi next, eyebrows raised.

"And you, my good friend."

The part-time tutor swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck, taking a sheepish glance Izumi's way with a little smile. "Uh. I guess?"

Itaru squinted at Tasuku after receiving the answer he was hoping for and smiled, his shoulders doing a little dance when the violet-eyed man groaned. "Tasuku just doesn't know how to appreciate women."

"Dude." Tasuku gritted, dropping his script. The man didn't want to feed into whatever bullshit Itaru wanted to start tonight, but he wasn't going to let the guy slander him like that. How dare he.

"It's true." Izumi said and reached out for the snack bowl that was on Tsumugi's side of the table. She snatched a chip and shoved it into her mouth.

"We were jogging through the park once and I asked him if he thought the girl we were about to run past was cute." Her voice was muffled by the food and it elicited a disgusted reaction from Tasuku while Tsumugi could only sigh.

The snack bowl was meant to be a reward for later.

Itaru was the only one listening. "Okay, and? What did he say?"

Izumi spared Tasuku a glance over Tsumugi's shoulder and blew a raspberry, shaking her head. "He said no."

Itaru snarled. "How could you."

"Wha— come on." Tasuku threw his head back with a deep sigh much to the amusement of his childhood friends. "It was a genuine answer."

"Dude. All girls are cute." Izumi stated as a matter of fact, gently patting Tsumugi's arm. "Right, Tsoogs?"

The man nodded, not willing to get harped on by both Itaru and Izumi who seemed to be looking for a fight tonight. "...Right."

"See?" Izumi and Itaru gave Tasuku a pointed stare. "You're the odd one out."

"Not all girls are cute." Tasuku frowned, pointing an accusing finger at Izumi. "Take a look at yourself if you need an example."

Both Izumi and Itaru gasped, scandalized.

Wow. Just wow! Tasuku really had a pair of balls to be saying that to Izumi. Such blasphemy was not to be taken lightly!

Itaru and Izumi were going to burn him at the stake.

Sitting up from his position on the couch, Itaru threw one of his cushions at Tasuku who caught the pillow with ease. Damn.

"You are so rude, you cheeky piece of shit." Izumi playfully cried as Tsumugi held her back from standing up to throw a punch at Tasuku who was sticking his tongue out.

Bleh bleh.

"Izumi's kind of cute at best." Tasuku continued, eliciting an agonized sob from Izumi who was now burying her face into Tsumugi's neck. Oh, the pain was unbearable. How could her buddy do this to her?

"How did our conversation about boobs end with someone crying..." Tsumugi sighed under his breath and pulled the girl closer to him, resuming his marking so that he wouldn't have to finish it later tonight.

Itaru crossed his arms huffily. "On a good day I'd agree with you Tasuku, but we are talking about Izumi here, you beefy fuck." The blond choked dramatically and glared at Tasuku who was rubbing his face.

"You better apologize to our Queen." He sniffled.

Tasuku cringed. "Queen?"

"Duh. Who else is most fitting to take responsibility?" Itaru rolled his eyes and made a grabby hand motion at Tsumugi. The oldest member of their group grabbed a candy from the bowl and tossed it.

"Uh, me? You fuck." The disbelief was apparent in Tasuku's eyes but Itaru ignored it.

"Oh, sure." Izumi scoffed. "Who's the one who has to deal with all the hearts you've broken?"

"Wow." Itaru chuckled through his candy. "So Tasuku is just a straight up ladykiller? As in, he literally kills people."

"For Chrissake— just shut up." Tasuku groaned, throwing the blond's cushion back at his face.

"I'm pretty sure I had to spend the night in jail once due to your drunken actions." Izumi wagged her finger and harrumphed.

"No." Tsumugi frowned and held the accusing finger that was pointed in Tasuku's direction, pushing it back down onto Izumi's lap. "Tasuku still got jailed for destruction of public property. You got jailed for assault."

Itaru piped up after tossing away the pillow that was so rudely thrown in his direction. "That happened in high school, though."

"I'm pretty sure I was acting in self-defense." Izumi frowned, crossing her arms as she remembered the unfair treatment she was given compared to the person she had punched. "Spitting on someone is considered assault. I was only protecting my pretty face."

"Ooh, Izumi using her basic Law 12 knowledge. Impressive." Itaru whistled, snapping his fingers as to applaud his friend for using her rarely flaunted intellect.

Izumi winked playfully and twirled a strand of hair around her finger, pantomiming that there was chewing gum in her mouth. "84% and never studied, baby."

Tsumugi's gaze scanned the woman's figure with a curled lip; a frown. "But if you studied, you could've gotten an A." His tone was scolding and it made Izumi pout. The woman cuddled into Tsumugi's side to appease him.

Itaru threw his candy wrapper at the tutor. "Hey, as long as she can keep us from fucking up in front of the cops, grades don't matter."

"A-fuckin'-men, broski." Both Itaru and Izumi sent each other a pair of finger guns and winked.

"You're fucked if you think Izumi's gonna keep you from getting incarcerated." Tasuku rolled his eyes. Seriously, was no one seeing the problem here?

Izumi had absolutely no compassion for their friend group. If she could, she'd probably watch Itaru and Tasuku get put in handcuffs. And if she could, she'd probably put Tsumugi in handcuffs.

This girl was off her shits.

"The Izumi slander is off the charts today." Itaru wolf-whistled. "You better shut your mouth, Tasuku, or else karma is gonna bite you in the ass."

"Yeah or else I'm gonna fuck your brother." Izumi threatened, completely derailing the conversation.

Tasuku froze. "What the hell."

"Fuyuki always looks like he's Down To F Izumi so she's probably not even kidding." Itaru pursed his lips, sending Izumi a thumbs up. Tsumugi couldn't protest, because it was probably true.

Izumi simpered. "I'm gonna be your sister-in-law."

"Oh my God." Tasuku cried.

"And hey, don't think your sister is automatically safe from me either, Chigasaki." Izumi's eyes caught Itaru's and the man pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Isn't his sister married?" Tsumugi frowned. He didn't have a problem with same-sex relationships but he was going to have to draw the line at homewrecking.

Luckily enough, Izumi had the same set of morals so the question made her freeze.

She jutted her chin at Itaru. "Is she married?" Izumi asked.

Itaru shrugged. "Dunno."

Izumi clicked her tongue. "Damn. I'll text and ask her later."

"Can't you just get with someone your own age?" Tasuku complained. He was not going to let Izumi near his brother. Absolutely not! Wasn't it a little weird going after your friend's siblings? Gee!

Izumi's lips curled into a frown after the question was asked. "And end up with someone like you guys?" Her tone was full of disdain, but she quickly kissed Tsumugi's cheek to let him know that she wasn't talking about him specifically.

Izumi gagged. "I'd rather kermit."

"That's reasonable." Itaru nodded. "I am quite the disaster of a sentient life form."

"Can you speak normally? And hey." Tasuku jabbed a finger in Izumi's direction. "It's not like I'd want to date someone like you either!"

Tsumugi fell back against the couch, rubbing his face as Izumi huffed and fell back with him, their knees hitting the edge of the coffee table.

"Can you guys please just make up and kiss already." The blue-haired man sobbed in exasperation.

Izumi shook her head and glared at nothing. "Sorry, Tsoogs. The only Takato I'm kissing is Fuyuki and it's gonna happen after we recite our vows at the wedding."

Tasuku threw his hands up in the air. "What wedding? And why does that piss me off?"

"'Cause you're jealous." Izumi poked her tongue out.

Tasuku growled. "Am not."

With a devilish grin, Izumi curled her arm around Tsumugi's shoulder and leaned over the man's lap to slap Tasuku's thigh. "Dude, if you want a nice smooch from me, all you gotta do is ask."

"Oho." Itaru's voice was monotone, but Tsumugi saw the way his eyebrow twitched. "If I ask nicely can I get a smooch too?"

Izumi turned her head and pretended to barf. "No. Maybe in your office suit, but like that?" The woman scoffed, eyes scrutinizing the grease stains on Itaru's shirt. "No fuckin' way."

"You're mean." Itaru frowned. "So you'd still kiss Tsumugi even though he dresses like that?"

The blond pointed at Tsumugi's usual attire and made a gagging noise. Not that there was really a problem with his outfit, but it was just so.... boring.

(Itaru opted to ignore the fact that Izumi was matching with him.)

Noah fence, Itaru mused to himself.

Tsumugi poked his tongue out at the gamer.

"Yeah? He's got a cute face and he always came to my sporting events back in HS." Izumi huffed, cradling the side of Tsumugi's face to squish their cheeks together, affectionately melting into his side. "Unlike you guys, Tsumugi was very supportive of me."

"Yeah." Tasuku rolled his eyes. "Supportive of your nonexistent athletic career."

"Okay, listen here 'hot stuff'—" Izumi grouched and slapped Tasuku's ankle. "I was scouted for the national team just like you."

Not even ten seconds in and Itaru was already tired from hearing them talk about athletics.

"Can we please stop talking about sports. Both of you didn't accept the offer anyway." Itaru cried dramatically and let his phone fall from his hand, slouching in his seat.

"Worst mistake of my life." Izumi sighed. "I've lost the chance to become a ladykiller."

"You say that as if girls would be attracted to you." Tasuku scoffed much to the annoyance of Izumi.

"I've had more girlfriends than you've had sex." The woman griped.

"Tasuku's a virgin, though." Itaru piped up, ignorant. No one seemed to be surprised at the fact that Izumi has had girlfriends before which was a little underwhelming.

Save for Tsumugi who was pouting.

"Exactly." Izumi picked a few candies from the bowl and threw them at the gamer while everyone ignored Tasuku's protest to the previous statements.

"How come we've never heard of you having any girlfriends?" Tsumugi frowned at Izumi and pat her knee, teasingly wiggling his shoulders as if he was a child throwing a tantrum.

The woman laughed and ruffled Tsumugi's hair. "You bastards would've complained had you known I always cancelled our plans for a girl."

"Well, did they have big boobs? If so, then it's fi—" Itaru was justifying Izumi's reason for always standing them up, only to have Tasuku remove his own indoor slipper from his foot to vault it at Itaru's chest.

"Ouch. </3" He pouted.

"Stop with the damn boobs. Izumi probably likes thick thighs." Tasuku frowned much to the amusement of Tsumugi and Izumi.

"Sounds more like a personal preference of yours." Itaru shot back while the pair sitting on the floor faced each other and sighed.

"Men." Izumi rolled her eyes so hard her head started to hurt. "Right, Tsumu?"

She scrunched her nose at the tutor who she was still holding onto and he responded with a nose scrunch of his own. "Right." He agreed confidently this time.

"Aw, I always knew you were an ally." Izumi cooed. "Kithes for you." She said and pressed her lips to his cheek before standing up from the floor, raising her arms above her head to stretch.

Itaru made grabby hands. "I want kithes."

The cutesy act made Izumi gag, and she shook her head. "No way. You've got your own army of wives to ask."

"Aw." Itaru clicked his tongue. "But they aren't as cute as you are." He supplicated.

"Ooh. Touché." The director whistled a pleased tune and waved at Itaru to come over. "You got me. Get over here."

The way Itaru had scrambled off the couch to trot over towards Izumi made the director laugh, and she willingly opened up her arms for Itaru to sink into her embrace.

"Ugh. Warm. Like soup." Itaru sighed. The comparison made Izumi make a noise of disgust.

"Okay, off you get." She groaned and forcefully pushed Itaru away. "I'm not kissing you anymore."

Brushing away the imaginary crumbs Itaru had dropped on her, Izumi turned her body in the direction of Tasuku, who was casually lounging on the sofa. She ignored Itaru's childish cry.

"As for you," she pointed a finger at the meathead. "score me a date with your brother and then maybe I'll give you the privilege to hug me."

Tasuku bristled.

"I am not letting you anywhere near Fuyuki." He squinted. "And I don't even like hugging you."

The whole trio in front of Tasuku scoffed, leaving him puzzled. "What's up with the reaction."

Tsumugi began to collect his unfinished quizzes, putting away his pens and answer sheet with a shake of his head. "Nothing. You're just a really pathetic liar."

"What."

Itaru grinned and trotted towards Tasuku, flopping onto the man's legs with a relaxed sigh.

"You're the lucky bastard who always gets spoiled by Izumi, ya big dumb of straight up ass. I'd punch you right now for being so ungrateful." The blond threatened.

"Aw, I never knew I picked favourites." Izumi frowned, squatting beside Tsumugi who was still cleaning up. "Tsumugi's my new number one."

The man mentioned smiled gratefully and blew a kiss at Izumi who grabbed the invisible thing and shoved it into her pocket.

Tasuku readjusted his legs underneath Itaru to properly distribute his weight. Ugh. He hated when they sat on his legs like this.

"Stop acting all lovey dovey. You two aren't even dating." The grouchy Winter Troupe member grumbled to which Itaru punched at his thigh.

"He's jealous! He wants in on the action." Itaru jested while Tasuku shot up to grab the blond by the front of his greasy shirt. "Oh God, I'm gonna die— IZUMI!" Itaru shrieked, in the middle of being violently shaken by Tasuku.

The director sighed at the commotion, sending a pout Tsumugi's way as the tutor shrugged his shoulders and gave her knee a comforting pat.

"I swear." She muttered under her breath. She stood back up to her full height and turned towards the pair on the sofa, eyes flaring with aggravated heat.

Izumi snatched the front of Tasuku's shirt just like what he did with Itaru and ripped him away from the blond with a wide eyed stare, startling the man out of his gentle bullying.

"You." She removed a hand from his shirt to tap his nose, smile fake as Tasuku blinked and stared at the canine tooth that was snarling at him. "Are being really bratty."

Finally being released from the clutches of the Devil himself, Itaru scrambled off the sofa to huddle against Tsumugi. He started to playfully cry just like Izumi did a little while ago and buried his face in Tsumugi's neck.

"I'm gonna beat your ass if you don't cool it by dinner tonight." She hissed, tightening her grip on Tasuku's shirt to pull him forward. Juuust until their noses were touching. "Got it, baby boy?"

She smiled just a little after uttering the nickname, but Tasuku huffed.

He lightly pressed his palms against her stomach to push her away, snarling. "I'm older than you."

"By a month. Get over yourself, pup." Izumi scoffed and raised her hand to roughly slap-half-pet Tasuku's cheek, using just enough force to push his face away from her.

"I'm going to my room to look at girls online." She sighed and raised her leg to dig her heel into Tasuku's stomach for good measure.

Just to let him know that she's still the boss in their little group. <3

"Text me when Omi finishes cooking tonight." Izumi pulled away from Tasuku before he could wrap his fingers around her ankle and trip her up, giving him the middle finger with a teasing smile as she walked backwards into the hallway.

"That's our Queen." Itaru sighed dreamily.

Man. If Izumi was the only woman left on earth he'd probably kill Tasuku and Tsumugi to keep her all to himself.

....Too much? Too much.

Tasuku was still grumbling to himself, rubbing the spot on his stomach where Izumi put her foot earlier. He winced.

...Hmph.

"I'm gonna pound her into the gr—" Tasuku made a sudden move to jump off the couch, but was stopped.

Tsumugi chuckled and held Tasuku by the back of his shirt to prevent the taller man from chasing Izumi down the hallway. "No you aren't."

"He really is a murderer." Itaru laughed in shock, bracing himself against the couch he was sitting on earlier.

"Yeah." Tasuku scoffed with a smile, turning towards Itaru. "And I'm gonna be sending you to your grave first."

The smile was....eerie. Itaru could feel the hair on his neck stand tall.

He slowly began to shuffle towards the hallway. "...I'mgonnagolookatboobswithIzumi." He said in one breath and then dashed down the direction of the director's room.

Tsumugi took a single glance at Tasuku and shook his head. "You are such a handful sometimes."

Tasuku pointed at himself and gaped.

"ME?"

[loxbbg]

Etherial

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Ethereal: extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world.

Its been 3 month since Y/N left with Voldemort. The last time I saw her was when I got my dark mark 2 weeks after she left. She looked tired from the dark circles under her eyes and the bruises from her training and overusing her magic.  When her and Voldemort appeared she was surrounded by all the adults asking her to show them what she had learned so far. After about 5 new spells she learned including the killing curse on a random bird outside she had an obvious look of annoyance on her face she flashed out of the room surprising everyone at the sudden flash. I wasn't surprised she did it. She never was much of a people person unless it was at Hogwarts where she had to be. She didn't use her becen in the 3 months I didn't blame her she was busy.  During the time I went through my own training with Bellatrix I felt worn out with every spell thrown at me. I was expected to do what my father couldn't. I held the Malfoy name and legacy on my back. How was I supposed to do this?

My mothers hands rested on my shoulder as I was hunched over in the chair. Opening my eyes my mother sat below me looking up at me removing my hands from my face.

“Draco my Draco, my beautiful boy I see the turmoil going on in your beautiful eyes.” She looked up at me with worried eyes

“Mother I don't think I can do this. I know I have to but what if I can. I'll be on my own. What if I get caught? I cannot go to Azkaban, he will kill me. This wasn't supposed to happen till after Y/N and I… we were supposed to marry.”

“And It can still happen to Draco. Y/N just has a bigger play in life sooner than we expected but so do you. How do you think Y/n would react to seeing you this way.” She would probably tell me that I'm better than this that I was “The Draco Malfoy” and could do anything with or without her. She was dreadfully silly around me different than what anyone whether it be a death eater or schoolmate she was just my Y/N not “Y/n Wayne” or “The Cursed Godchild” just Y/n.

“Draco If you need me I will be here and even if she isn't here you know Y/N would be here helping you. Trust me you'll see her soon just focus on what has to be done now.” Draco inhaled.

It's been three months. Three months since I last spoke to her. Our 6th year of Hogwarts is supposed to start. My bags were already on the train. My mother and Estrella stood on the platform waiting for me to say goodbye. It was a tradition for them to send us off but today, this year of all years we needed them to be here. I needed her to be here.

“Watch where you're going.” Someone bumped into me almost knocking me off my balance.

“Sorry love I’ve just been so dazed my summer has been crazy.”  That voice sounds so familiar. Looking down at the short black haired girl I haven't seen the entire vacation in her Slytherin robes but, how? She couldn't be done with training.

“Bloody Hell” I pull her body into mine holding her close in the hug.

“Hello darling I’ve missed you. Summer has been one hell of a ride.” She looks up at me smirking.

“Beautiful  you have no idea.” I pressed my lips onto her forehead pulling her further into me. Months felt like years after not seeing her. She moved from under my lips looking up at me, she wraps her arms around my neck pulling me closer to her.

“I've been wanting to do this for a while now.” Our lips meet melting into each other. If the train had not blown its horn we might have missed it.

“They knew by the way.” She whispered after pulling away looking at our parents.

“I finished my training and my mother had already packed my bags so I came early and saved us a seat but we should really go before they leave without us. The faster we get to Hogwarts the faster we can be alone.” She whispers the last line for only me to hear. We wave to our parents running into the train at the final bell of the train. No one knew what we really went through this summer but they will know after what’s coming this year.

(blah blah blah pov switch)

Walking into the cart we walked into the booth with our stuff Pansy and Blaise sitting opposite of where we would sit. Slipping into the booth I link my hands with Draco, I have so much to tell him, to show him. Godfather has shown me things, things near muggles couldn't  fathom.

“ How was your summer?” Parkinson asked, looking down and Dracos and I linked hands. She's always had a crush on Draco. I knew she felt threatened by me always asking me if Draco and I were together? Why did we spend so much time together? What part of us being childhood friends did she not understand? This was meant to happen, sad she had so much hope. Kinda pathetic really.

“Well it wasn't really that eventful. We took some trips together with both our families. It was a shame our fathers couldn't be there but besides for that nothing much happened.” I kept eye contact with Pansy smiling as I brushed my thumb on Draco’s. He breaks away from his conversation with Blaise looking in my direction he leans close to my ear

“You know you're making it obvious.” I smirked against his ear, glancing over at Pansy who looked annoyed and uncomfortable.

“ I know, that's the point” Pulling away I put a small peck on his lips before leaning my head onto his shoulder.

“Oh yeah and that too.”I shrug. Pansy thinks everything outside the window looks more interesting than looking at us, Blaise just looked at smirking at Draco continuing their conversation, Draco wraps his arm around my waist. I unintentionally fell asleep on his shoulder.

“What just happened? Blaise? “ My eyes quickly fluttered open hearing Draco who was looking around the cart

“Don't know,” Blaise responded. Just then, a small bag teeters, then tumbles from a luggage rack. It was Draco's wheels.

“Relax guys. The lights went out is all. Come on Draco we’ll be at Hogwarts before you know it.” She bats her non-existent eye lashes at her. Her flirting couldn't be anymore obvious its getting desperate at this point.

Draco eyes the bag, slinging it back onto the luggage rack and plops down. I run my hands through his hair looking up at the bag, It's never happened before.

“Hogwarts. What a pathetic excuse for a school. I think I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I thought I had to continue on for another two years.” I continue twisting my fingers through his hair. It truly was pathetic it could've been a great school centuries ago.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy asked.

“Let’s just say I don’t think you’ll be seeing Y/N and I, wasting our time in Charms Class next year.” Pansy Glances over at Blaise who just snorts. Looking over at me I just shrug agreeing with what Draco said.

“Are you amused Blaise? We’ll see just who’s laughing in the end.”  I chuckled to myself, if things were different maybe he would tell Blaise, I could care less about Pansy and her wondering little hands. I saw how she reached out for Darco when she thought I was asleep.

Blaise shakes his head, smiling as he looks out the window at the darkness of the tunnel. Just then the small bag in the upper rack shifts. Dracos and I look up to it. Draco reached for his wand still looking up to the bag, I have a clue to what or who might be in the rack and I think Draco does as well. I reached for his hand shaking my head ‘no’ now wasn't the time with all these people around.

“Later.” I whispered, not moving my head from his shoulder. If Potter wasn't so obvious he might have heard. The rest of the ride was met in silence as Draco refused to say anything unless it was small talk.

As the Hogwarts express pulled into the station Draco and I stayed behind. Draco pulled down our bags gripping onto the handle.

“Go guys, we'll meet up in a bit. I think I left something in the bathroom.” I shooed Pansy and Blaise away. They know Draco and I are like glue so they didn't expect him to leave me alone. Walking out the train cart Draco lets the blinds down with a spell closing the door in the process.

“Didn’t mummy ever tell you it’s bad manners to eavesdrop, Potter? Petrificus Totalus!” Draco points his wand to the luggage rack. Harry hits the floor with a thump. I moved Harry's Invisibility cloak revealing him paralized to the floor.

“She can't remember she's been dead before he could wipe the drool off his face.” I smirk looking bored at Harry’s shocked expression at my response. Unusually I would just watch ‘helplessly’ as Draco made fun of him but never participated.

Draco brought his foot down onto Harry’s face snapping his nose blood pooling from it. I move the invisibility cloak onto Harry faking a pout.

“Enjoy the ride back to London.” Draco spat.

“Goodbye Harry” I fully covered his face, Draco already at the door with the rest of our bags to the carriages. Walking up you our carriage of course there needed to be an issue

“It's not a cane, you cretin.It’s a walking stick.” Flinched passed a metal detector over the stick in question. If I could I would flash us into hogwart by now but ‘no’ that's gonna raise suspicion.

“And what exactly would you be wanting with a walking stick?” Aren't these muggle lovers supposed to be sensitive?

“It's his Fathers you insensitive bastard.” I sneered leaning on the carriage.

“Was his fathers.” Snape separated himself from the shadows. Draco, eyeing him warily, snatching the stick from Filch.

“Is my father’s. He’s not dead.” He was sent to Alatraz and all of a sudden they don't even mention him in the present no wonder Draco hates it here.  Draco carefully wraps the stick in felt, laying it back inside his trunk.

“It’s alright, Mr. Filch. I can vouch for Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Wayne.” Snape says putting the last of the things into the carriage. Instead of coming in with me Snape and Draco walked besides it while it moved. Turning around Draco caught Harry looking at him. I followed his gaze at Potter with a crooked nose.

“Nice face, Potter.” Draco called out as Potter was no longer in sight.

“My mother told me what you're doing for Draco. She also told me what you know. Are you sure you're willing to leave all of this. Betray the people you call your friends for the dark lord.” I turned my attention to snape. Is it really wise to have someone willing to betray the people he was around for so long.

“These people were never my friends, merely a cover until you godfather came back to make his claim.” I didn't want to question him too much in fear of others hearing but for now it satisfied my curiosity. Good to know someone on the inside was watching.  Glancing ast Draco who looked deep in thought I snapped my fingers at him.

“What are you thinking about, ferret?” I chuckled at the name given to him after he was changed to one a year ago. He wasn't too fond of it but I couldn't care.

“You know I hate when you call me that.” he snapped.

“Just answer.” I chuckled.

“Just thinking about father. Do you think that he will get out.” I hadn't even thought about it, both of our fathers were locked up. I hadn't had the time to really think about it. It was the first summer my father, both our fathers were not  home when we returned from Hogwarts. We hadn't been able to go on our family trip. Everything changed this summer.

“Draco, you don't trust godfather, trust me. I will do everything I can to get them out I swear.” He smiled up at me. I stepped out of the carriage wanting to walk with him. He pulled me close to him kissing the ring he gave to me during the triwizard games. Hogwarts was in our sights looking up. I let out a breath. Being here again made me realize this yeari will finally be doing something important and worthy rather than having these people suck up to me for my name.

“Are you ready.” Draco asked. Looking back Snape let out a breath looking like he's over this already.

“Born ready.”

[fandomlifechoseme]

hi! i i was wondering if you could write a damian wayne x reader where they are soulmates and he rejects her at first but dick finds out and fluff ensues

Hell yeah you can!

It was a fun day at school. All of the theatre kids put on a play while the sports kids played sports I guess, I spent the entire time chilling by myself. It was how I liked it. I spent the entire day drawing which obviously felt like heaven that was until he came around. Damian showed up in the art room I know he like to draw as well so I didn’t say anything against it. But then when I slightly got bored I decided to draw on my arm. I drew a little rose that Grew into a tree I thought it looks nice personally. When I looked up though, Damien was watching me with this disgusted look on as I obviously I thought he was just judging me because I was writing on my own. But then I looked onto his arm and they’re sat the exact same drawings. Shit. I wanted to talk to him about it but he just stood up and ran. Rude. Every day I saw him in the art room and I tried and tried and tried to talk to him. He never even let me get a single word in. One day I cornered him in the art room

“ we need to talk”

“ about what tch”

I quickly picked up my pencil and draw little smile on my wrist. It appeared on his quickly.

“That”

“Honestly I don’t want to be your soulmate either. but we need to talk about it”

He stood up from where he was sitting and gave me the most terrifying glare I have ever seen.

“ you don’t get it though, I’m never going to fall in love with a loser like you. You can’t be my soulmate because my soulmate would actually be good at something not mediocre at drawing”

He then marched out of The art room, leaving me there to just sit in sorrow. How can anyone be that rude. Let alone someone who I’m supposed to fall in love with and someone who I’m supposed to spend the rest my life with. I decided then and there that I would never conform to society is ideal soulmate. I didn’t need someone to be happy. Especially someone who makes me feel like shit. Months go by And every time I see Damien in the hallways I just give him a scoff. I just hope one day he’ll feel as bad as how I felt in that moment. no one in their right mind to get to treat someone like that and get away with it.

Art class was hard because Damian was in my class and Miss worked out they were trouble is between us. She took it upon herself to “fix” us. One day she decided that she would start a project. You had to paint someone you admired. And it was in pairs. So obviously she paired me with the asshole.

“ Who inspires that cold dead heart of yours?” Harsh. I know. But my parents had raised me to believe your soulmate is someone who makes you feel happy and get here. If it none of those boxes harsh. I know. But my parents had raised me to believe your soulmate is someone who makes you feel happy and giddy. Damian fit none of those boxes.

“my heart is very much beating, thank you and I guess Robin.”

Blah!

“Yeah I guess, I definitely prefer Nightwing though, oh! but Red Robin is awesome!” His face goes to pure disgust at the mention of Red Robin.

“Drake would never let me forget it. I’d rather do Nightwing”

At least we came to an agreement? Yano he’s not that ba-

“ oh and stop with the drawing on yourself. I don’t need that on me”

Nope. I take it back he is a 10/10 butthole. I take out my pen and start drawing red robin all over my arms.

“ fine, keep drawing. Just no Red Robin.” I can make this arrangement work out. Missed calls out to everyone, that we have five minutes and it would be best if we work a bit at home.

“My house or yours?”

“Tch, my Manor. obviously”

TIME SKIPPY!

After school ended I started heading over to where Damian was waiting. He offered me a ride begrudgingly. To which I accepted. I expected to be riding home in a simple car. But I did not expect a freaking limo. We get into the car and Damian calls to the driver.

“Pennyworth! This is my partner I was telling you about, We will be working on our project at the home today” pennyworth? That’s a weird name. Maybe it’s his last name.

“ good evening Miss/Mr L/N my name is Alfred pennyworth. You may call me Alfred” I gave Alfred a small smile and thank him for the ride.

“You can you call me Y/N!” We went through most of the ride in complete silence. The only noise was the rare chatter between Alfred and Damian. When we pulled up to Damian’s house immediately recognised it as the Wayne Manor! I forgot he was a Wayne sometimes. He just acts so different to his father. We walk up to the door and hear gunshots. Obviously this scares me a little bit so I asked Damian what it was.

“That’s just Todd. You don’t need to be afraid of him” He says in a comforting voice? When we open the door I recognised Dick Grayson immediately. He may or may not of been my childhood crush, you’ll never know.

“ Grayson. This is my partner L/N. We will be working on a project from 4 to 8 pm. I expect no disturbances throughout this period of time.”Oh so he’s like that at home as well. Dick Grayson turns to me.

“Hi! And what is your name?”

“Y/n! I didn’t know you’d be here!” Out Walks Tim Drake. A distant friend of a friend.

“ honestly, I didn’t even know I’d be here until period four. It’s nice to see you Tim”

Tim then sees my arm Which still is covered with Red Robin

“ you are a fan of Red Robin?” He had an unnatural smile on. Like it looked like pure amusement mixed with doubt and a hint of sleep deprivation.

“Ye-“ before I could finish the sentence Damian grabs my arm and starts leading me to his room I think. Or the art room.

Dick’s POV

I noticed it when Damian grabbed their arm. I noticed the red robin drawn all over his arm too. Oh man. That explains when he came home awkward and semi Upset. I know he has a crush on them maybe they doesn’t have a crush on him. He would come home every day and just talk non-stop about them. Then one day he just stopped. He said at the start of that day that he would finally talk to them. And yet nothing happened. I turned to Tim to ask him

“Did you see what was on his arm?”

“Obviously, how could I ever miss this opportunity. He has red robin written all over his arm and drawn. I’m gonna have to thank Y/n”. After smacking him lightly. I go and try to find out what happened from Alfred. Tim goes back to his lair And does whatever he does when he’s hiding. I had to convince Jason to stop shooting so that Y/N would not think we are under attack. After a lot of digging and talking to everyone including Bruce and my lovely Barbara. I found out what happened. As the great big brother I am I had to get involved. I made a few calls and within minutes I had everything I needed.

“Damian! Y/n! Come downstairs we’re gonna watch a movie!” Obviously I picked out the most romantic movie we owned. It wasn’t really romantic but was the best thing we had.

“Grayson! We are working on the project! We are not watching a movie.” Okay time for plan b. I quickly run up the stairs and slam open the door. It turns out they were doing more than making a project. They were making a painting of me. There’s nothing more romantic than painting me. Well I think I still need to help out a bit. So I leave the movie there for them and ask if Y/N wanted to stay the night.

“I can’t, sorry, my mother would never agree.”

Y/n’s pov

I didn’t want to stay over because, my mother is a murderous people who does not like the idea of staying over boys house and I guess that’s the only reason. I mean Damien‘s bad but we have great conversations. Like before Dick came in we were having a fun conversation about why we admired night wing. Dick looked sad but he left.

“ anyway. Why do you not like Robin?”

“It’s not like I don’t like Robin. I just think he’s just a bit scary you know?” He nods.

“ why do you not like red robin?” This lit a fire in his eyes.

“ where do I get started. First of all he is incompetent, he thinks he’s great but he’s very shit.”

“Reminds me of you”

“ do not compare us”

“ or what?” He just laughs and as he was about to answer. Dick kicks open the door and starts talking about how he convinced my mother to let me stay over. I mean He probably could convince anyone anything. If he came up to me one day and said that the joker was actually Batman I’d immediately believe him.

I agree to stay over. And as I turned around I heard the door slam shut again. Sounds like dick had left. Damian looks at me with a sincere look.

“I want to apologise. I panicked and in the heat of the moment I said things I didn’t mean. One. I’d be honoured if you are my soulmate. Two. I don’t think your mediocre at drawing.”

Can’t say I expected that. But I don’t think he expected though was for me to forgive him.

“ Damian. I really like you and I think we could definitely work out as soulmates. If you are willing to try?” He smiles. this is the first time I’ve ever seen them smile and we have been in class together for almost 3 years.

“ can I, can I kiss you?”

I nod and lean into the kiss. Before our lips could touch though. Loud gunshots rock through the building again.

“Dam Todd.”

“ so I take it that the Waynes aren’t a normal family?”

“Nope” Tim says falling out of the ceiling.