#gotta know cause sometimes i have suspicions but the mere thought is exciting as hell

[dereliction-if]

❤️‍🔥 I gotta know…

Ok now listen, I am super curious about this and like 99% of Qs are anon, but I have to know…are there any authors of IFs (maybe even some I follow myself?) who send asks to me?

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 16: Hear No Evil

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: You hear something you’re not supposed to hear.

Editor: @wonderifshelikesroses

The fifth day of school without Rowena there, looking like she owned the place, was just as weird as the first.

Not that you were missing her or anything.

Well, not that much.

You were merely missing her presence. That was all.

Mosquitoes were annoying, but a summer without them wouldn't feel like summer. Not completely. Life would go on as normal. The air would be stale with humidity. Sun would burn eyes and skin, merciless, unforgiving. Sweat would glue drenched clothes to bodies. But something would still be missing. Something would still be wrong.

Mosquitoes belonged in summer.

Birds belonged in the sky.

Spiders belonged in abandoned, dusty attics.

And Rowena Macleod belonged in school.

Saturday couldn't come fast enough. Just one more day. A little over twenty four hours, and you would see her again, in the flesh, hopefully with a touch more color in her face.

It wasn't anticipation. Not at all. You weren't excited to see her. Rather, you were concerned. You wanted to see if she was okay. For health reasons.

If you repeated it enough times, maybe you would believe it. But the way things were going, you were a lost cause.

Yes, you missed her, you told yourself. And yes, you couldn't wait to see her again. So what? She was your friend. It was only natural you worried for her wellbeing.

That was right.

She was your friend. Just your friend. Nothing more. What you felt for her was friendly.

That you weren't willing to compromise on with yourself.

It was friendly because you said so. Because it couldn't — it just couldn't, not with the way things were — be anything more.

The end.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. A message lit up your screen.

Miss me?

Rowena.

As if she'd read your mind.

You blushed, hurrying to reply.

Never.

Every single day, you thought. To hell with denial. You missed her. Truly, genuinely missed her every day of this week.

Her response came within seconds.

:(

An unwilling smile broke out on your mouth. The emoji dripped with drama. You could imagine her pouting exaggeratedly and crossing her arms over her chest like an angry child.

You big baby. :P

She sent an emoji again, this time one of a hand holding up a middle finger.

You snorted, replying,

Classy.

You started it.

Fair enough.

What are you doing up so early?

From what Crowley told you, she loved to sleep in when she didn't have school to wake up for. Beauty sleep, she called it, because of course she would.

Couldn't sleep. :(

You imagined another pout, this one sad. An ache pulled at your heart, sympathy spilling over you.

You said,

Flu's a bitch.

She begged to differ.

Flu's a cunt.

Laughter exploded from your mouth. A few kids walking beside you in the hallway looked at you like you were crazy.

To be fair, you kind of were.

Sometimes I forget you're Scottish, and then you say shit like this.

Happy to remind you, dear. :)

Now she was definitely smirking. You were willing to bet on it.

Gotta go. Talk to you later.

Rude. :(

As much as you enjoyed your chat, the five-minute break wouldn't get any longer and the bell sure as hell wouldn't wait for you to empty your bladder before ringing. Pocketing your phone, you rushed into the nearest bathroom. It was empty, most students presumably having done their business before exchanging messages with their sick sort-of-friend.

You hurried to do yours, and just before you flushed the toilet, feet sounded outside, a soft, careful patter. A stall door creaked open, then closed; halfway, you presumed, for lack of a latch sliding into place.

"So public," a voice said, hushed but clear. "Naughty girl."

"It's not like anyone will see," another voice replied nonchalantly.

"Someone could."

"Let them try. I'll run the loser to the ground."

Whistling. "So bad."

"You like 'em bad."

"Don't you know it."

A giggle, then a puckering, a melody of flesh meeting flesh, that was undoubtedly a kiss. A long, passionate one you could picture vividly in your head.

You wished you couldn't.

Good god, you wished you couldn't.

Your stomach churned, disgust roiling and twirling. Your heart sped up as if in a race as cold shivers of unease pricked at the back of your neck like thousands of needles burrowed underneath your skin.

Maybe you were wrong, you thought. Maybe it wasn't them.

But, just as you were beginning to second guess your intuition, the couple spoke once again in-between what seemed to be a hot and heavy makeout session.

There was no longer room for doubt.

It was them.

Lucifer and Olivette.

The monkey and the wicked witch.

They were making out. In the bathroom. With each other.

Sneaking behind Rowena's back.

Your teeth clenched, anger flashing. How could they do this to her? How could they betray her like this?

As much as you hated that part of Rowena's life, you knew how much it meant to her. You couldn't understand it — didn't want to understand it — but she cared about them both. She cherished them. Respected them. Cheered them on even when they didn't deserve it.

She put up with Olivette's pettiness and Lucifer's assholery, and for what?

For them to do this?

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't right.

She was sick. That was, you realized, swallowing a lump in your throat, what bothered you the most about all this. Rowena was sick, stuck to her bed, pale as a corpse. She was helpless, and they took advantage. Twisted the situation to their benefit.

Had they even gone to visit her?

Had they, at the very least, sent messages wishing her a swift recovery?

You had. You'd sent dozens. You chatted with her every opportunity you had. Made sure to respond to every single message.

As friends did.

Was that why she wanted to chat so much? Because her actual friends had forgotten about her, too caught up in themselves, in each other?

Were you officially her friend now?

Was she yours?

Why did your heart flutter like that at the thought?

"You heard from her?" Olivette asked.

"Sent her some 'I missed you' crap this morning," Lucifer said.

She snorted. "Same, last night. God, she's so needy."

"Tell me about it. All she talks about is how sick she is. Like, I get it, you're sick. You'll get better in two days. Just shut up."

"She's always whining. Always."

Rowena.

They were talking about Rowena.

"Y'know, if she wasn't such a great lay, I would've ended it ages ago."

"Classy, Lucifer."

"I'm serious."

A few moments passed in silence, then Olivette said, "I get you. She's such a brat."

"She is. Now you — you're a woman."

"Oh, am I?"

"Mmhmm. Way less annoying. Quite… entertaining."

"You're not so bad yourself."

"I can be bad."

"I know you can."

They smacked their lips in another nauseating kiss. As if on cue, the bell rang, echoing in the empty room.

You flushed the toilet, swung the door open, washed your hands, and hurried back to class.

You couldn't listen anymore. Couldn't bear to hear more moans and nasty words.

Rowena deserved better. A better friend. A better boyfriend. Someone who would like her for who she was. Who wouldn't call her names and ridicule her behind her back. Who wouldn't cheat on her when she was sick.

Someone who wouldn't let her down.

Someone… like you.

*****

"Could I ask you guys a question?" you said amidst Dean's hundredth retelling of meeting a sexy waitress he'd had a one night stand with a few days ago.

She took his order, had a cute smile, was attracted to him, and they had sex after her shift ended.

There.

How many retellings did such a simple story need?

Everyone seemed glad at the interruption. Dean just shrugged as if he wasn't bothered, though it was obvious he was.

Oh, well.

His feelings were his business.

"Please, entertain us," Crowley said, side-eyeing Dean, who in turn flipped him the bird. Crowley responded with a teasing wink.

Those two honestly needed to get a room.

You cleared your throat. Willed up all your courage. "Say the person you were dating was cheating on you and your friend saw them. Would you wanna be told?"

Everyone looked at you as if you'd suddenly grown a second head.

Meg glanced back and forth from you to Castiel, brows furrowing in suspicion. Castiel, in turn, frowned at the sudden awkwardness. Clueless as usual. It would be sad if it wasn't endearing.

"I'm reading a book," you said quickly, spewing out the first thing that came to mind. Boring, simple, but convincing enough.

Heads bobbed in nods and a few ohs slipped from lips. The tension dissipated as if it had never been there, replaced by nonchalance, by sheer indifference. As if bringing your fiction into hangouts was something you did every day.

You wished.

Your group's tastes were so different you actively avoided bringing things you were into up. There were only so many blank stares and pretend nods you could take.

"Fuck, yeah, I'd wanna be told," Meg said, grabbing onto Castiel's hand. Tightly. Possessively. "You cheat on me and…" She made a cutting motion over her throat with her free hand, then settled her stare, as intense as her words, on you. "A real friend would tell me. A real friend would hold the bastard while I gutted him."

You gulped.

Holy fuck!

Meg could be intimidating when she wanted. And when she didn't. One of her many talents.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. Blinked. Looked around in confusion like a week-old puppy.

Meg gave him a sweet smile. "You wouldn't cheat on me, would you, Clarence?"

"I'd never cheat on you," he said, baffled as to how it was even a question. He turned to you. "If Meg cheated on me, I would very much appreciate you tell me." He furrowed his brows. "Though I don't know why she would. I think I satisfy her."

"I bet she's plenty satisfied," Crowley quipped dryly.

Meg flipped him off, earning her a smirk.

"As a matter of fact, I am. Clarence always—"

"Okay, Meg, we get it," Sam said. Before she could protest the interruption, he said, "If my girlfriend was cheating on me, I'd definitely wanna know. Yeah, it would suck, but it's better to know than not."

"Agreed," Dean said. "Friends are family. If they don't tell me, who will?"

Your heart warmed at his words.

Yes. Friends were family. A chosen one, filled with people you wanted there, people you'd picked to love out of millions of others.

If you didn't tell Rowena, who would?

Her other friends didn't look out for her. They didn't give a damn about her. Not a single one of them.

You did.

Despite everything she'd done, despite the life she'd chosen to lead, you cared about her. You saw the side of her that no one else did; the sweet, gentle one, the one capable of kindness. The one she hid from her own family.

She trusted you with her most vulnerable parts. Something not even your other friends did. The realization made your blood warm up in your veins. Heat burned at your cheeks.

You cared about her. So damn much that your heart felt like it was ripped apart at the thought of what Lucifer and Olivette's betrayal would do to her.

She deserved so much more than she was getting.

A better friend.

A better lover.

You.

She deserved you.

And, god, you wanted her. All for yourself, far away from her friends' clutches, from your friends' disapproving glares.

You could give her so much. You were neither rich nor popular, but you cared about her. Your feelings for her were genuine, honest. You couldn't give her power, but you could give her friendship.

You could give her love.

The friendly kind.

And maybe some even stronger than that.

What it was, you didn't know — you didn't want to know, didn't want to admit it just yet for it was too soon and things were too complicated — but it was hers. All hers.

All she had to do was want it.

"Fuck that," Crowley said, shaking you from your thoughts. "This is high school. I'm looking for hookups, not a commitment. I say, whatever happens when I'm not looking, never happened. I don't want to know. Hell, I'm probably out there doing the same bloody thing. There's plenty of fish in the sea. If you don't try out different kinds, what's the point?"

Of course he said that. Of fucking course.

Fergus MacLeod, ever the rebel.

"That's a… unique perspective," Sam said.

Crowley shrugged, nonchalant. "Just telling it as it is."

Fair.

You couldn't comprehend it, but he had a right to his preference. He was an adventurer. An explorer. Bear Grylls of the dating scene. He lived for the moment. Tried out different things, different people, enjoyed life as it went on. Lived his life the way he wanted, by his own unwritten rules. A hedonist by nature.

Rowena was different.

She was committed.

And had been betrayed.

And, as her friend, it was your duty to tell her.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @gaysnakess @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @tasyahilker @a-queen-and-her-throne

[cherrywineandmagic]

Doing Fine - Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and his pregnant wife decide to visit Diana and end up running into his father as well. 

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Long overdue for the beautiful @reid-effect. I hope you like it, love <33

Your pregnancy was a beautiful, experience. Spencer was at your every beck and call, always eager to make sure his favorite lady was comfortable and happy. He’d initially call out of work to take care of you on your worst days and It was a sweet sentiment that you appreciated. Now that you were headed towards your last months, Spencer had retired as a field agent altogether and instead worked as a long distance adviser for the BAU, just a phone call away whenever they needed his insight.

The only person who seemed to be more excited about having a baby around than Spencer was his mother. She was calling you nearly every day, sometimes twice if her memory failed her. You always assured her that you were doing well and that she would see her grandson very soon as the final months were approaching.

“How much longer?” Diana asked as she watched you caress your stomach. Spencer had stepped out momentarily to answer a call from his team, leaving you two alone.

“A little less than three months,” you replied with a soft smile as you stared lovingly at your belly. Inside was your son, growing bigger and stronger every day.

“I remember when I was pregnant with Spencer,” Diana shared. Your eyes lit up at the idea of her pregnant, unaware of just how wonderful her boy would turn out to be. “I had morning sickness for weeks before it just stopped abruptly. It might have had something to do with the lecture I gave him while he was in there. I remember, I told him “Now little man, do you really think it’s a nice thing to make your mother sick so often?” And just like that, it stopped,” she paused, her voice soft as she remembered. “He was a good boy, even before he was out in the world.”

Diana could see the look of adoration in your eyes as you thought of her son, and then looked towards your own. “I don’t doubt it.”

“He was never much of a crier. Simple lullabies were enough to quiet him down. Hopefully, yours is the same. Lord knows how a baby’s wail can keep you up,” she laughed, remembering the few instances when Spencer had appeared like any other newborn, crying endlessly into the night. You smiled brightly at the thought of Spencer as a baby.

“Mom, we gotta go,” Spencer said as he reappeared.

“Everything okay?” You asked as he helped you stand. He looked exhausted.

“Yes, everything is fine. It’s just getting a little late so we should head out. Thanks for seeing us, Mom.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I love seeing my kids,” she beamed. Diana Reid was a kind woman and had opened her heart to you the second she saw the way Spencer looked at you. You were the daughter she never had but had always imagined.

“Thank you, Diana,” you returned her smile with just as much adoration. “We’ll see you soon.”

*

“Oh, Spence! They’ve got milkshakes!” You exclaimed as you stopped just outside a small diner. “Please?”

Spencer chuckled, knowing just how hard your cravings could hit.

“Sure, we can stop for some milkshakes,”

Suddenly it dawned on you just how little you had eaten throughout the day, and just how dehydrated your body felt. As soon as the thought entered your mind it was as if your body reacted accordingly, your stomach rumbling loudly and a sharp pain running through the back of your head.

“You ok?” Spencer asked as he noticed the sharp inhale you took. You merely nodded, plastering on a smile and shoving his worries away.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you assured.

Within minutes you were both seated and your order of two strawberry shakes had been taken. It wasn’t that much later when Spencer’s phone rang again, causing him to step out in order to take the work-related call. You had busied yourself with folding a napkin as you waited for his return that you almost didn’t realize that another man had slipped into his seat across from you.

“Hello, I’m-”

“William,” you breathed as your eyes widened in recognition. This was the man who you’d only ever heard of briefly from Spencer, a man that brought him so much sadness and anger. You’d noticed the way he would close off whenever you asked about his father and had done investigating of your own, if you would go as far as to call facebook stalking that. You knew his face well and yet it was a face you’d never once wished to run into. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The older man winced at your tone. You undoubtedly knew of him and heard of the abandonment stories, all of which rarely ever painted him in a good light.

“I saw you leave after seeing Diana. I’ve...been meaning to talk to you. Spencer is my son, and this baby you’re having is going to be my grandson, and I just want to be a part of his life.”

“This is not your grandson!” you hissed, appalled at the fact he felt so entitled to a place in your son’s life. “You! You don’t get to do this! You abandoned Spencer! You can’t just waltz back in because he’s having a child!”

“He’s my blood,” he argued, eyeing around the diner. The waitress that had taken your order was keeping an eye on your table, her hands ready to call the police if need be. Spencer was nowhere in sight.

“Spencer was your blood and you had no issue forgetting he existed,” you spat as your anger boiled inside of you. “What kind of man does that to his kid? You think you deserve a place in our lives now? We’re completely fine pretending you don’t exist.”

You hissed as another sharp pain ran through your head. This time you felt a bit woozy as if your body was ready to simply give out.

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked as he approached the table, his suspicions rising as he saw a man across from you. He stopped in his tracks as he recognized the face that turned towards him. “Dad?”

“He was just leaving,” you spoke as you shot the man a glare. You sighed deeply, feeling yourself begin to rock in your seat. Spencer caught the small gesture and rushed to your side.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he asked worriedly as he rushed to your side.

“I don’t feel too well. I’ll probably feel better once I get something to drink.”

Spencer looked unconvinced at your response. He stood and threw down a twenty dollar bill, helping you up.

“No, we’re going to the nearest hospital.”

“No, Spenc-”

“We’re going.”

You nodded weakly at his tone, knowing he already had his mind set.

“I can drive you,” William quickly offered. Spencer nodded silently, his worry for you outweighing his disdain for his father.

*

“This is your fault! Look at how you stressed her out!” Spencer argued in the hospital room. You cringed at the loudness of his voice as his father did the same. Anger was never something one would get used to with Spencer.

“It’s not my fault! I just wanted to meet my daughter in law before you had the kid,” William argued. “It’s my right.”

“Your right?” Spencer scoffed. “You didn’t bother to wonder why you weren’t invited to our wedding? Why I didn’t want you in my kid’s life? We’re doing fine without you, I have been my whole life since you walked out of it. You do nothing but bring heartache.”

William remained quiet for a moment as he realized that his life choices had finally caught up with him. He’d chosen his own life and career over that of his son when it had mattered most, and now he was meant to live without him. His eyes were glued to the floor as he nodded, knowing nothing he said would be enough to change the situation.

“I understand,” his gaze lifted up to meet yours, “I’m sorry for any harm I’ve caused today.”

And like that, he was gone.

Spencer sighed deeply, his eyes closing as he attempted to collect himself. He hadn’t meant to explode the way he had but seeing his dad was always emotional. Including a pregnant wife who felt suddenly ill, it was expected that he would have a little less tolerance than normal.

“I’m sorry about that,” Spencer apologized as he took a seat beside the hospital bed. You’d been hooked up to an IV and were simply waiting on the doctor now.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assured him. “I get it.”

Spencer immediately stood when the doctor walked in with your chart.

“Well, everything looks fine. She was just a little dehydrated and her blood pressure dropped. Just make sure you get plenty of food, water, and rest from now on.”

“Thank you,” you both said in unison. The doctor left to move on to his next patient, leaving the two of you alone.

“You ready to go home?” Spencer asked.

“More than ready,” you replied with a sigh. “Although I never did get my milkshake.”

Spencer laughed at the fact your cravings never took a day off. They were almost as stubborn as you.

“We’ll get you one as soon as possible. I promise.”