#maeve pines

[deserteye]

EPILOGUE || Unfinished Business

Waking up with a headache was new, having never experienced pain outside of inhabiting a human body.  His eyes slowly started to adjust to the bright surroundings.  Pink and blue?  Those were hues he not used to—and clouds and stars- Oh no.

Although he prayed, he did not expect an answer.  He turned around, and there it was—The Axolotl, lying over a parting in its clouds.

“Axolotl!  Buddy!  How are you-” Bill started his sentence before he was suddenly grabbed by an invisible force, and dragged to float by The Axolotl as it was staring down from the clouds, watching human children playing at a park.  “Ugh..” the dream demon groaned in his mind.

“Precious, aren’t they?  So innocent and fragile.”  The Axolotl commented.

“Disgusting..” Bill had responded.  The Axolotl laughed.

“Still haven’t learned to appreciate them?”  The Axolotl asked.

“Why would I appreciate something so.. Weak?” Bill asked in response, The Axolotl hummed, before closing the clouds and floating over to the middle of the Axolotl’s space between time and space.  The Axolotl had summoned a small, vintage white metal table with floral patterns, and matching chairs, and then a small tea set, with a matching floral tea kettle, tea cups, plates, sugar cubes, cream, and even tea biscuits.

“Sit with me, Cipher.”  The Axolotl asked.

“Do I have a choice..?” Bill asked in a sarcastic tone.

“You always have a choice in my space between time and space, Cipher.  Although, I don’t think you’d like your second option.”  The Axolotl laughed, floating over the chair in a sat position, one leg propped over the other as it was hunched over.  Bill sat in the other chair, picking up the teacup and plate, sipping it from his eye.  Delectable as always, the Axolotl was good at that.

Before it hit him.  His memories.  The Pines Family.  Six Fingers, Shriner’s, Shooting Star... Pinetree.  They had been able to defeat him by trapping him in Shriner’s head.  He was too excited to get into Six Finger’s head he didn’t even realize they pulled a simple switch on him while he was distracted.  His body turned red with anger.

“So, like I said, I didn’t think you’d like your second option.”  The Axolotl laughed.  Bill looked insulted at the Axolotl.

“Why are you laughing at the fact I nearly died!  And by the hands of- humans.” Bill shouted at The Axolotl in anger, wanting to lunge at the Axolotl, but knowing better, he didn’t.

“Because of how much you talk badly about them, you call them weak and idiotic, yet two sets of twins, two nearly at the end of their age and the other two barely starting, defeated you.”  The Axolotl giggled again.  “The others found it hilarious.” Oh great.  Others know.  The dream demon blushed angrily.

“Whatever!  I wasn’t thinking clearly!”  He defended himself.

“Like how humans do?”  The Axolotl teased him further.  Bill was fuming at this point, enough to boil another pot of tea.  “I apologize Cipher, let's get to business.”  He added, and Bill’s anger melted into curiosity.

“Business?”  The dream demon asked.

“Yes Cipher, for why I resurrected you.”  The Axolotl repeated.

“I thought it was because I asked.”  Bill pondered.

“Asked?  It was more like a begging plea.  But no.  I resurrected you because of your unfinished business with a certain Sphynx?”  The Axolotl asked with a smile but it simply made Bill fume once more.

“No.  I don’t.  All of the Sphynx’s are dead.  I made sure of it.”  Bill responded, confused, and angered.

The Axolotl tilted its head to the floor, as the clouds split, and it showed a small clearing in a pine forest.  Bill was confused, and The Axolotl laughed once more, impressed by the Sphynx’s.  The Axolotl cleared the magic dome the Sphynxs made to hide themselves from Bill.  Bill’s eyes widened.

“Once (Mother’s Name) and (Father’s Name) Sphynx saw their family was being hunted, they worked to build a barrier so you couldn’t find their family.  Especially since Mrs. Sphynx was pregnant…”  The Axolotl explained.  Bill’s body ignited into blue flames, and he threw the metal table over, The Axolotl’s magic catching everything before it made a mess.

“Does the child, have the crest.” Bill more demanded than asked, facing away from the Axolotl.

“They do.”  The Axolotl confirmed.  Bill turned around, looking up at the Axolotl.

“What do you want?”  Bill asked, he knew this had to be a trade.  Something in exchange for a second chance.  That’s how The Axolotl has always worked.

“You already know the answer.”  The Axolotl answered.  Bill scoffed.

“It's never gonna happen, Axolotl.”  Bill denied the exchange, and the Axolotl sighed.

“Cipher, you know why I ask you of this.  We’ve been warned, and yet you ignore this warning because you don’t want to change how you act.  How you rule your dimension.  And how you want to rule this one, even though you know you can’t.”  The Axolotl explained.

“We’re not even sure if those stupid rules are true!  We haven’t proven that that happens because of how we behave and work.”  Bill retorted.

“Do you want to risk it Cipher?  After how many have died?  Those who changed have lived, those who haven’t, turned to ash.  Just like they predicted.  Just like they warned.”  The Axolotl explained further.

“Here is my deal, Cipher.  I will return you to Gravity Fall, Oregon.  Your birthplace.  For you to finish your unfinished business.  Preferably the way we’re supposed to.”  The Axolotl held its hand out to Bill.  Bill looked at the hand, before up to The Axolotl.

“And what if I don’t do it the “proper” way?”  Bill asked back, almost the same way a teenager would ask his parent “Or what?”, but he was seriously asking, for his safety.  Being a king of deals, he knew to get every detail.

“Please, do you think this is the first time we’ve had this conversation?”  The Axolotl asked with a smile and a laugh.  Bill felt a shiver up his none existent spine, and he sighed, before rolling his eyes.  He took Axolotl’s hand, no blue flames ignited unlike normal.

“Deal.”

“Wonderful!  I’ll send you down immediately.”  The Axolotl smiled, before clapping his hands once.  As all the tea stuff disappeared.  The Axolotl floated to the clouds, opening up a clearing.

“How are you going too-”  Bill started to ask before he was teleported in front of the opening, his face inches from the Axolotl. “Good luck!”  The Axolotl smiled, before flicking Bill like a bug down to earth. “Boop~”  The Axolotl giggled.

· · ─────── 𓁹 ─────── · · Next Chapter | To Be Continued...

[soundsoftechzakissing]

there is something so special about techza mutual pining because good Lord they're both immortal and practically infallible. but God forbid they talk about their feelings for more than a second because they "have all the time in the world". They can talk about the lingering touches and glances tomorrow. they can pretend the burning in their chests when they look at the other is just the usual attachment you get when you've been beside someone for practically your whole life. they've both become very accustomed to Not Talking About It because if the other felt the same way, surely they would've brought it up by now

[radiant-reid]

24 Hours

request: a blurb where he actually gets mad at JJ when she confesses to love him but doesn't really say anything at the moment. But then when he introduces reader to the team as his girlfriend, JJ is being kinda rude to her. She tries to tell him she doesn't like her, that she's not good for him. And spencer gets mad and protective👀 maybe he even throws a "i'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not".

a/n: my return piece !!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

Word Count: 2.2k

Spencer sees red when he walks out of the jewelry store after shooting the unsub.

JJ is the first girl he has ever asked out, someone he pined over for years after her subtle rejection at the Redskins game. He understood her reasoning. It would have been impractical for them to add relationship highs and lows to everything the BAU has been through over fourteen years, and that's if they stayed together. If they hadn't, things would have been even more complicated.

Also she just generally didn't like him that way. Or so he thought.

It didn't mean she wasn't his ideal for many years. His first love, who had so many traits he didn't have that he desperately wanted.

His confirmation he would be unlucky in love came after that with Maeve, who he once again thought could be the one for him. And then he realized that maybe the person for him had been taken away from him.

Then he met Y/n, and it all seemed worth it. All those terrible nights of crying and feeling like he would forever be alone, all the times he was the only single one on the team, knowing everyone was going home to someone they loved unconditionally and relied on for support.

She's the sun and the moon, and he fell in love so fast he couldn't stop it. Luckily, she did too.

Until JJ fucked it up.

The truth she had to tell to get them out alive dropped an atomic bomb on his newly formed life plans.

Spencer doesn't speak to her that night as they finish their recounts and reports. She leaves it out, though, he discovers, opting to write the secret about her miscarriage instead of confessing her love for her best friend and the godfather of her kids.

It messes with his head the whole way home. He can't sleep on the jet, even if he wanted to as he tried to work out what he was feeling.

All JJ does is send him pleading looks, and all he does is get angry because how dare she do this now? After she had fifteen years of them working together, all those chances to tell him how she felt.

He would have married and had a family with her, the family he always wanted. It's always stayed in the back of his head for so long, and just as he sees someone else in that role in his dreams, she drudges all of it back up.

It's such a long flight, and he taps his foot the whole way while staring out the window, not even able to read.

He goes to Y/n's. He's not sure what he's going to say, how much of it he's going to tell her, but he needs to see her to cool off the fury boiling out of him.

"Hey, handsome." She calls out when he walks in the door as cheerful as ever.

He feels a pit of guilt sink into his stomach because he can't tell her without ruining everything they delicately have put together. Maybe it's wrong to lie by omission, but his brain keeps coming back to fault. And it's JJ's fault. She's the one who's jeopardizing everything.

"Hi, gorgeous." He replies, walking into the living room to find her laying on the couch, book in her hands and her head on the armrest. He's reminded how accurate the petname he calls her by is when he's taken off guard by her breathless beauty. "How are you liking it?" He asks.

"It's good." She answers, putting the book down. "But that's because it's very you."

She gets up, meeting him behind the couch to cup his jaw, stroking over his skin and staring into his eyes for a moment before kissing him properly.

He relaxes into it, the tension in his shoulders easing and his brain slowing down for a moment. It's heavenly, as always, and it's what being loved is meant to feel like.

"How was your case?" She asks when she pulls back, still not daring to move too far away from him.

He tenses instantly at that, totally readable behavior, but he's got to perfect excuse to play it off. "It was rough." He holds out his bandaged hand that he's been avoiding showing her. "I got hurt."

"Shit." She straightens up, noticing how big it looked. "What happened?"

"Cut it on glass." He answers, not going as far as to say where he was when it occurred. "I'm fine, though. Promise."

She nods, reassured. "We've got to be up in, like, six hours, you know?" She reminds him of the time.

With the amount of coffee and adrenaline in his system, he barely registered it was already past 2 in the morning. Usually, they would have stayed in LA for the night, but being home in time for Rossi's wedding trumped a good night of sleep for everyone.

"Can I sleep here?" He wonders, awkwardly looking down at his feet.

"Duh. I'm not going to kick you out and make you come pick me up so we can go tomorrow morning." She jokes. "Picked up your suit, too. You're going to look very handsome."

Spencer grins because she seriously can't get more perfect. She still feels so unattainable, but he'd do anything to make sure he doesn't lose her.

He really should tell her, but he can't. Not right now.

Y/n snaps him out of it. "Bedtime now?"

"Please." He agrees gratefully, keeping his arms wrapped around her while they walk to her bedroom.

He keeps her close while they go through the motions of getting ready for bed. Spencer quickly sheds his suit and both of them brush their teeth.

His head is on the pillow for only a few seconds before he's asleep, and she follows soon after.

The alarm going off isn't as much of a problem when Spencer is lying in bed next to her, arm wrapped around her waist. It's one of the things she misses a lot when he's away.

"Hi, beautiful," Spencer whispers, a husky voice as always. He's glad he fell asleep quickly, not having wanted to sit up thinking about the stupid things JJ has said. He just couldn't understand why it was coming up now. Sleep provided absolutely no clarity.

She grins at him. "Hi."

"Are you ready for today?" He asks softly.

"A little nervous," Y/n admits. The BAU is his family after all. His mom is there but the BAU has been where he's spent most of his life for the last 15 years.

"They'll love you." Because I love you. Spencer assures her.

She smiles softly, feeling a little better. "Let's get up then."

Spencer agrees, not before planting a few kisses on her lips and hugging her tightly.

They get ready side by side, feeling a great sense of domesticity. She's never gotten close to someone as quickly as she has with Spencer. Somehow, it's not scary that it's happened this way.

"Wow, you're very gorgeous," Spencer tells her as she touches up the final strand of her hair, adding enough hairspray that it won't fall out. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, admiring her. "Wow."

"Thank you." Y/n spins around to look at him in his deep maroon suit. It matches her dress color which she agrees looks very nice on her. "And you're very handsome."

"Ready? The car is coming soon." He says.

She nods, fixing her bracelet. "Let's do it."

There are still some nerves as the car takes them to the venue. Spencer does a good job of assuring her it'll be okay, his hand like a magnet to her thigh. He seems slightly off like there's something out of place, but she shrugs it off. She hopes he's being cute and afraid his friends still say something embarrassing.

The venue and interior are exquisite as they make their way in. She takes a deep breath before they come across the man of the day, welcoming everyone at the entrance. She has no doubt that the value of the artwork in this room totals her apartment and everything in it.

"Spencer." Rossi, supposably, greets him in a tight hug.

"This is my girlfriend, Y/n." Spencer introduces them.

As she expects, and as she was warned about by Spencer, Rossi pulls her in for a hug, immediately calming her nerves with his warm greeting. "It's so nice to meet you. This one won't stop talking about you." Rossi jokes, nodding at an increasingly reddening Spencer.

"It's nice to meet you too." She smiles. "Thank you for inviting me."

Rossi nods. "Of course, it's a pleasure."

And then the rest of the introductions begin. Everyone's so kind, like she expected. She's seen photos and heard stories but everyone seems to have more personality than he conveyed. She's quickly fast friends with Penelope and Tara who do their absolute best to make sure Y/n's feeling comfortable.

It's how she ends up being dragged onto the dance floor after the ceremony. Once the alcohol starts flowing, there's no more anxiousness left and some extroverted spirit has been brought out.

Spencer's not one to dance, but he's one to admire. Only Y/n, though. She looks angelic, despite the old-style dance moves.

He's so wrapped up in watching her that he doesn't register JJ's heels on the ground as she approaches him. It's only when she sits next to him that his head turns around to face her.

He waits for her to speak first. Hopefully, provide some explanation.

"Spencer." She says his name softly, almost like how he used to imagine she'd say it if they were together. Much to his surprise, she doesn't go into any detail about the bomb she'd dropped less than 24 hours ago. "I'm worried about you."

He doesn't hide his scoff. "Worried about me?" He repeats.

She goes for another tactic, trying not to get him mad. "You don't think you're rushing into this?"

"Rushing into what, Jennifer?" He spits back, snapping to anger. Using her first name drives the point home, almost unnecessarily when he sounds so angered.

"You know what I mean." She continues. "You've only been talking about her for a few weeks and now she's here."

He can't fathom that she'd suggest he's rushing into a relationship. He's been careful and deliberate, but Y/n's safe, and she's proved it time and time again.

"She's been part of my life for 6 months." Spencer fact-checks her. "And you said I seemed happier since I met her."

JJ stalls, regrouping before trying another angle. "She's just not what I expected. Is she really the type you should be with?"

"What does that mean?" Spencer states, more furious than ever. There's a chance he will fully snap at her and he wouldn't be sorry.

"I feel like you should be with someone extroverted." She suggests. "You know, someone to get you out of your shell."

Spencer needs a deep breath. "You're not being a good friend right now." He tells her much more calmly. There's not one thing he doesn't love about Y/n, whether she's more on the extroverted or introverted side."I'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not." It's not even what he expected to come out of his mouth.

"Spence-" JJ tries again to reason with him.

"No, don't you dare," Spencer says firmly. "You flew back and forth from New Orleans so many times to see Will, without telling us once and we were all accepting of your relationship. If you don't like my relationship, I don't care. But it's not too soon for me to know. We can talk about what you told me later, but for now, I'm going to dance with my girlfriend." Without another word, he gets up and walks off, leaving her a little gobsmacked.

Y/n frowns at him as he approaches the dance floor. "Are you okay?" She checks.

"More than okay," Spencer tells her with a soft smile.

"Dance with me then." She says, mirroring her smile and holding out her hand.

"I'd love to." He takes her hand just as a slow song comes on for them to sway together.

JJ gets ignored by him for the rest of the night, something unnoticed by Y/n but purposeful by Spencer. But it's fun. So much fun. And he's sure he wouldn't be having as much fun had Y/n not been there. She truly makes his day.

They're in the car later that night, parked near her apartment, ice cream eaten on the trip home. "I'm in love with you," Spencer admits when her laughter falls off after he tells a joke.

It's not a word they've said before.

Her expression is of pure shock, but joy quickly creeps in. "I'm in love with you too." She tells him, grinning.

And it's an entirely better confession than the one he heard 24 hours ago.

[lovebugism]

hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]

summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3

When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old. 

The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme. 

Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.

You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.

“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”

“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”

He most definitely hadn’t.

“What the hell— I brought booze!”

“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question. 

Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.

“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.

You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”

Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.

Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.

The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.

“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”

You swat his chest with a less than kind hand. 

“Ow!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”

“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.

You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.

“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.

The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”

“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”

“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.

“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.

“Oh… Okay…”

“What’s yours?”

You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”

“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.

“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.

Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.

You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.

“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.

“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”

“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”

“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.

The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.

The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.

“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time. 

You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”

A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”

His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Right,” you nod.

Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.

“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”

“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.

Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls. 

Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s. 

“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”

“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.

You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.

“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.

You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”

The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.

“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”

“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”

Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”

Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”

You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”

“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”

“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”

He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment. 

“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.

“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”

“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”

Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”

The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”

“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.” 

Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”

“Yeah…” you echo.

“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you. 

He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.

You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile. 

“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”

The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”

He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind. 

Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”

if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

[strawbeerossi]

August - Prologue

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Chapter Description: You look back on the way that you bonded with Spencer over the course of the time you've known him. After one night spent between you both, you tell the girls that you want to ask Spencer to Rossi's wedding. Too bad JJ had other plans.

Content/Warnings: Spoilers for 14x15, unrequited love, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, JJ is a horrible friend (I’m so sorry), general heartbreak.

WC: 2.4K

Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request

🏷️ @sadroses98

Spencer’s love life was a trainwreck. Everyone knew that after the Maeve debacle, dating wasn’t something that he was concerned with. He saw the horrible things that could happen to significant others of the BAU members. Haley dying, Jack being targeted, and Savannah being shot were things he’d seen first hand and he wasn’t eager to have a loved one go through any of it. He’d never forgive himself.

JJ was always special, in his eyes. Even whenever they were both young on the field together, he always pined after her. She was beautiful, funny, and she didn’t always look so bothered to talk to him. Of course, their failed attempt at a date to the Redskins game was just an indication that he should admire from afar. Besides, he’d like to have her in his life regardless. 

He maintained a healthy friendship with JJ over all fourteen years that he worked with the BAU, the woman being by his side even whenever he didn’t deserve it. It was something he wouldn’t trade for the world. He appreciated her, loving her so much that his heart swelled every time she came near him. He buried all those feelings deep in his heart, keeping quiet on the subject. It wasn’t the healthiest way to handle unspoken feelings but it was the easiest. Work would be awkward, plus she didn’t seem romantically interested. Best not to push.

Whenever you joined the BAU, you were blissfully unaware of Spencer’s feelings toward JJ, instead meeting a version of him that was so dedicated to bottling up those feelings. He was a bit standoffish with you at first, which you didn’t take personally. You’d heard of the endless trauma he’d been through and you felt like you had to work overtime to gain his trust.The problem was, you did damn near everything and it was like it wasn’t working.

You learned how he liked his coffee and brought him a cup every morning, you asked for facts about zany topics, you even mentioned Doctor Who in an effort to reach out to him. It was like he didn’t even want to look in your direction.

You managed to chip away at him over the next few months, getting him to laugh in certain circumstances or even having him greet you in the mornings. It was something that you had to work for but it was all worth it in the end whenever he’d gotten fully comfortable with you. He learned that he enjoyed talking to you, having you around.

The both of you had grown quite close to the point where every Friday that you weren’t on a case was spent having a movie night. He’d even taught you how to sew a scarf after too much trial and error. All the time you spent together was causing you to fall deeper in love with the lovable genius with each interaction. Every silly complaint about a show not being true to science, his rambles on topics that interested him, even when you two would get into arguments. 

It was no surprise that you’d fallen so fast. You wore your heart on your sleeve, yearning for a deep connection that nobody else could take away. Spencer was your person, you could feel it. There were daydreams of having a nice home with a big backyard for your kids, Spencer teaching them magic tricks or helping them excel in their academics. 

It was a Saturday night after a successful case that the team went out drinking together to celebrate. You may have let Penelope and Emily influence you into drinking your body weight in whatever liquor was put in front of you. Spencer hardly drank, however he allowed himself to have a few drinks, his tolerance being so low that he could feel a buzz after just one. 

You were too far gone to remember the events of the night but you did know that you and Spencer left together. The night was spent with drunken sex and whatever else you two got up to within the span of seven hours. You both woke up the next morning and it was still okay. There was no sneaking out when someone was sleeping, no forcing them out. You two actually spent a good portion of the morning together. The only issue? You got more attached. It was like you associated the sex with mutual feelings, the dream of actually finding someone to settle with. 

You’d gotten so caught up with the fantasy that you just had to tell the girls at work during one of your morning gossip sessions.

“I don’t know, I just feel like this could be the start of something great. I really do like him, he means the world to me. I just wish that I could say it.” You admitted, leaning against Penelope’s desk while sipping from your coffee mug. 

“Well, I say just go for it! Our genius needs to settle down.” Penelope encouraged, her eyes widening with excitement. “You two can have babies! I don’t think we could ever have enough BAU babies.” She gushed. 

JJ was laughing softly from her spot in the room at her friend’s excitement. “I mean, the worst he could really do is say no. No harm in trying to ask, right?” The blonde let her shoulders bounce. In a way, she could feel a pang of jealousy in her chest. You and Spencer? That didn’t seem right at all.

“He won’t say no! I am convinced he loves you! I mean, you always brighten his day.” Penelope was piling on encouragement, pushing you to take the bull by the horns and just get yourself out there, to put your feelings first.”Plus, you can invite him to Rossi’s wedding!”

It was safe to say that it was working. You felt a wave of confidence rush over you, taking it with stride. JJ had a point, Spencer wouldn’t be rude about turning you down. The pain would still be there in the event he did but at least he wouldn’t be cruel, right? 

“I’m gonna go talk to him about it. It’s a paperwork day, so it’ll be quiet.” Plus, she could just delve into files that needed to be filed away if he did let her down gently. It was the perfect plan!

You were planning on talking to him later in the afternoon, just enough time to give yourself a pep talk. However, Emily and Penelope killed that idea with a snap of a finger as a case had come up. It came with the territory of your job – make plans and have them destroyed by some loser who decided to massacre multiple people for the fun of it.

***

The case had taken a turn for the worse whenever JJ and Spencer were hot on the unsub’s trail, being locked inside a bank with no way to contact the outside world. The only thing anyone had was shitty footage from the security camera inside with no audio to accompany it. All you could do was assume what was happening as you stared at the screen, Emily beside you as she was talking to Penelope about getting anything if they could.

Their body language said it all though, the way that JJ seemed tense and the way Spencer had a look of… Relief? You didn’t know what was happening in the slightest but it was like you could feel your stomach churn, your heart slowly cracking. 

You didn’t want to assume it was anything too crazy, you didn’t need to worry. You were being silly. Once there were shots inside, everyone was rushing to the back door of the building to get inside. You were frozen in place, eyes focused on the room now filled with agents and cops. 

The sound of everyone talking was muffled, your mind somewhere else as you were slowly turning to the screen before approaching the two agents when they were coming out of the building. “Are you two okay?!” She asked quickly, a shaky edge to her voice as she was bringing a hand to her face. “This job stresses me out,” 

There was lighthearted, yet awkward laughter as you were eventually heading back to the SUVs. 

There was a tension hanging in the air any time that Spencer and JJ were together, the two barely sharing glances as the rest of the team were rejoicing and ending the case and preventing losing innocent people as well as potentially losing two of their best agents.

There was something wrong but you weren’t going to say anything.

Clearly something personal happened in the moment they were forced to play along with whatever the unsub wanted from them. You were curious but you didn’t want to bring it up, maybe out of fear of hearing something that you don't wanna hear. 

You didn’t ask Spencer to be your date to Dave’s wedding, instead going on your own.

The whole environment there made you sad. You were thrilled for Dave and Krystall but it was an atmosphere oozing with love while you were alone, the man you wanted to ask being weird and not speaking to you the way he usually did. There was a lot you wondered about. 

Did you do something wrong? Was he angry at you? More questions echoed in your mind, feeling defeated on how such a good relationship has fizzled out to nothing. 

You were brought out of your thoughts whenever Penelope was passing out whatever concoction of drink she came up with. “Here you go, sour puss.” The blonde spoke while placing the mixed drink in front of you at the bar, you offering a small smile in response. 

“It’s a good day, don’t be sad in the corner all night.” Luke added soon after while you were waving it off. He didn’t know the extent of why you felt the way you did. He just knew that you had been in a funk for days, not being your usual self.

“I’m not sad. I’m just.. I’m not really in the mood.” It was honest, however you knew that you had to show up for Dave, he was family. You would’ve done the same for anyone else in the team for whatever event. 

In the midst of your denial, your gaze had fallen on Spencer and JJ, the two talking together at a table farther from the rest of you. It could’ve been some deep, poorly concealed anger that had you putting the cup down and walking over to the two who seemed to be having a great time together. You were falling apart and it was like he wasn’t even paying attention. It stung. 

“Spencer! JJ!” You announced your presence with a smile, your hands clasping together. “I didn’t get to come talk to you guys earlier. I wanted to say hi.” You began. “Also, why are you two isolated from the team?! Come on!” 

What felt like a knife to your chest was the way Spencer looked at you with a lack of interest, almost as if your presence was bothersome. “Oh, we were just talking. We are fine, we will catch up later.” The male answered, hoping the answer was good enough to be left alone again.

That was the moment you broke.

“What the hell have I done to you? You’ve been dodging my calls and texts for days and you barely talk to me anymore. What is your deal?” In an attempt to not ruin the beautiful ceremony, you were keeping a calm demeanor. Even if you could feel the cracks in the facade. 

“What? Nothing! You’re acting like a child. I’m just having a conversation.” Spencer frowned, his attention finally on you for the first time in days. “You act like we talk every minute of the day.”

“Because we normally do! Come on, Spencer. Just talk to me.” You were begging for a minute of his time, an explanation. For days you’d questioned every interaction and every word said. You thought your relationship was stronger than that.

“I am talking to you. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say.” 

JJ looked visibly uncomfortable with the whole interaction, so that’s whenever you were turning your attention to her. “And you, I’ve been trying to talk to you for days and you don’t give me the time of day. What is happening? Do you both have a problem with me?”

“Look-” 

“No! She has a point, Spencer. I’ll be honest with her.” JJ finally found her voice, although the nervousness was gone now, instead just taking the situation for what it is. “I’m sorry,” The words made your knees weak. 

You knew what was coming. 

“The other day, the key to us getting out of there and preventing any injuries, I played truth or dare. Which, I know what you’re thinking but it wasn’t a childish game in the slightest.” She said slowly while you watched her in disbelief.

“Anyway, I was told to give a secret that I’d never tell anyone else. Something I’d take to the grave and-” 

“You told Spencer that you loved him.” You finished, throat tight as you were restraining the urge to either sob or scream at the blonde. “It’s just funny that this all came out after I told you what I wanted to do. You never showed him the time of day before.” 

“I don’t think you pay enough attention. Spencer has always been my best friend and we spend time together alone quite frequently. Just because you had sex one time doesn’t mean that you both were in an unspoken relationship.” JJ responded, having the audacity to act as if she didn’t break girl code to the highest degree. 

There were a few moments of silence, every intrusive thought bouncing through your mind. Your gaze was briefly turning to David and Krystall, seeing the two happily talking with guests before you were tuning your head to the pair in front of you. 

You reached over for the glass of water that one of them ended up putting down, hand clutching the glass before you made the wise decision of throwing water in their direction, the glass emptying on the both of them before the same glass was being placed down on the table. 

Without a word, you turned on your heels so you could walk away from the two. The reception was over for you, no feeling of celebration. You leaving with tears brimming your eyes caught the attention of the small group of agents, the group now turning their heads briefly to look at Spencer and JJ.

“Oh no..” Penelope frowned, the normally bubbly blonde turning to Tara, Luke and Matt.

“Something tells me that JJ and Spencer are talking..”

[shadowqueenjude]

Who pulls the most bitches?

So I saw someone do something like this and I kind of wanted to do my own version with sjm characters. They get no bitches (besides that one girl who's a sucker for losers): Tamlin, Hunt, Ithan, Declan (only bc he's gay not for lack of game; he pulls ALL the men), Tarquin They get more than none but less bitches than you'd expect: Fenrys (bc he's with Maeve, poor boyo), Tharion (bc he's stuck with the river queen's daughter, oof), Aedion, Mor (because she has to hide her sexuality, rip) Now let's rank the remaining: Rhysand: for the supposedly most powerful fae guy to ever exist, he gets a surprisingly low amount of bitches. Perhaps it is due to his creepy evil reputation and the hatred for him within his own court: turns out a pretty face a male does NOT make. Even gold-diggers have standards! Cassian: I turned this over in my mind many times, but I realized Cassian pulls less bitches than Azriel after the line "I don't need to resort to poetry." He gets plenty of bitches because he's a bigass dude with muscles, but his shitty poetry is a turn-off to most eligible ladies. Azriel: he doesn't need to resort to poetry; he's a pretty boy with a cut body, but points have to be deducted for lack of game and pining over Mor for 500 years and being obsessed with having a mate (yuck). Dorian Havilliard: Come on, guys! He's a hot prince! Of course, he gets all the bitches. He's a little immature but he grows out of it! I mean he pulled the fucking man-eater, for God's sake. Points deducted for falling for Celaena wayyyy too fast (and getting rejected) and for his healer girl getting decapitated (rip Sorscha). Rowan: we KNOW this guy gets aaaaaaaalllll the bitches. Come on, he's Rowan-rutting-Whitethorn! Points were deducted for the whole Lyria thing AND serving Maeve for so long. Lorcan Salvaterre: He gets even more bitches than Rowan because... "Battles, riches, females- Lorcan always won, at any cost." And it's even said Rowan often allowed him to win. So yeah, he pulls a lot of bitches and participates in crazy orgies with his homie Rowan. Points deducted for being Stockholmed by Maeve (poor Lolo). Ruhn Danaan: I mean we already know the man's got game (evidence: CC2 chapter 3 plus all ruhnlidia chapters). He's also a young (by Fae standards) prince who lives in a fucking frat-boy house. And that sad-boy thing he's got going on? Girls love that. Eat it up. All the bitches wanna sit on him to take away his sorrow. Points deducted for crushing on a lesbian (oops). Tristan Flynn: Man gets even more bitches than Ruhn because he's just hornier and he's obsessed with his hair. Also, did you see the fire sprites becoming his cheerleaders? King shit. Points deducted for failing to rizz up Ariadne. Eris Vanserra: Come on, he's an Autumn Court male. Plus he's a Vanserra! It's practically in his blood! Points deducted for being rejected by Mor and Nesta tho. Chaol Westfall: Man gets a shockingly high number of bitches despite being a human character who until Dorian became king had a pretty lowly position. I mean, there was a literal PRINCE and his cousin hanging out and the girls were all drooling over Chaol. When he had a disability (which unfortunately due to prejudices that exist, often make you "undesirable" in the eyes of many) and he rizzed all those women, including Yrene, harder than Kashin. EVERY. GIRL. CHOSE. CHAOL. OVER. A. LITERAL. PRINCE. Both in Adarlan AND the southern continent. You're telling me he doesn't have the rizz??? A half a point deducted for being too hung up over Celaena (I don't blame him but still). But still, he pulls sooooo many bitches. Lucien (Vanserra? Spell-Cleaver? Cunt-Server?): Come on. Is there anyone else fitting to be number 1???? Man's got EVERYTHING Chaol has, PLUS he's the son of a High Lord and he's got that Vanserra rizz. Fuck it, he wouldn't stop at bitches. He'll pull every mfer to ever exist. If it breathes, it's into Lucien Vanserra. He is THAT guy.

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.13 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warnings: some angst, violence, mutual pining, some kissing;)

See masterlist

Her whole life, she never had anyone. Yes, she had her share of relationships, longest of them being with Azriel, she has had people whom she called friends, family even, she has had acquaintance's, those whom she trained and those whom she met.

But none had ever been loyal enough. Enough to have her back, enough to love her, enough to protect and support her. Enough to promise something to her. Azriel, no matter how long they had known one another, had never told her the three words she was desperate to hear, 'I love you'. He never cared enough about her feelings, her thoughts and words. He never soothed her nightmares.

And now, looking back on it with a clear mind, y/n could see what a blind fool she has been. He never loved her to begin with.

But, last night, Fenrys had not only opened up to her, shown her his unmasked side, but also promised so fiercely to protect her, to have her back. She didn't expect him to be so vulnerable with her. She sensed how he still held back about telling more but that was fine. Y/n was more than grateful with all that he shared with her. And now, knowing his backstory, or atleast some of it, she could only curse on those who ever hurt him. She could only wish for Maeve to come back from the dead so that y/n could brutally kill her with her own bare hands.

Y/n also realized how wrong she was when she judged him. He was not a self-centered, arrogant prick but an honorable, brave, loyal, loving and broken male who only wishes to finally find a purpose in life. Just like her.

Last night, after Fenrys made her a promise that shook her whole world, she managed to only stare at him with wide eyes and mouth which made him smile softly and detach from her, the feeling leaving her cold and for some reason, disappointed. He then turned his back on her and entered his room, shutting the door and leaving her in the middle of the hallway, frozen and absolutely in shock.

She slept like a newborn faeling for the rest of the night. No nightmares, no troubles sleeping, just pure bliss. And now, as she made her way to the training area even an hour earlier than she usually would, y/n felt very refreshed and energize-

"Lu! This is a surprise, since when have you been training?"

Lucien, half naked with his abs and muscles on display, dropped the weights that he was lifting and looked towards y/n.

The redhead pretended to be hurt as he put his hand over his heart, gasping, "Y/n, please, you're hurting my feelings. How exactly do you think that I keep this delectable physique?"

She laughed as she went towards the pitcher full of water.

"I don't know, I rarely ever saw you train in Velaris."

Lucien pointed a finger at her, "Key word, 'in Velaris'. Training with Cassian or Azriel never was the best thing, they just keep judging you, looking at you like you are lower than them."

She drank her water and put the cup down before shaking her head, "I am sorry Lu, it seems like they will never learn."

He just shrugged with a small smile, "Don't be, the only one with whom I truly ever connected there was and still is, you."

She genuinely smiled at that before heading to warm up. She heard his voice again as Lucien said while once again getting to work on his weightlifting, "So, what is going on between you and....what was his name- Fenrys. Yes."

She furrowed her brows and once again looked back at her friend, "What do you mean?"

Did he hear them last night? Impossible, they are in different parts of the palace.

"Well, I don't know, you seem to have some form of a connection. Rowan sees the tension too- in fact, everyone does."

"Nonsense Lu, there is nothing-"

"Do you love him?"

That question made her pause. Did she love Fenrys? Well, she certainly felt an attraction towards him. She felt care and adoration towards him but did she love him? No. No, she did not. She could never love anyone again. Not after what Azriel did. What happened last night was just a one time thing. He probably already forgot of what happened, probably moved on.

She sighed, "No. I do not."

"But you do care for him."

She looked up at her friend, who now was standing in front of her, his arms crossed, "Yes. I care.....as a friend."

"And when we go back, will you forget him as just a friend, a moment in your life, and move on?"

"I won't of course, I mean....he made an impact- this whole thing was unusual and made an impact and....and even if I wont ever see him again I will remember him as a....a good, great even, friend- why are you even questioning me like this is some kind of a trial?"

Lucien smirked and opened his mouth to say something when they heard a wyverns roar. They both turned around to see two figures in the distance, Manon and Petrah, exiting the palace and going towards their beasts.

From the urgency in their stride, it was clear that something was off. Y/n quickly made her way towards them as Lucien grabbed his shirt together with a sword and followed right behind her.

When they reached them the two seemed o be in some kind of a heated discussion as Manon just shook her head, ".....No, just trust me, Petrah. I am going and you either follow me or stay behind but do not tell me not to go."

Petrah just rubbed her temples while sighing, "And what if that place holds nothing? What if your guess proves to be fruitless?"

"Then-"

"What's going on? Where are you going?"

The witches turned their heads to look at her and the prince, Manon just sighed while Petrah tried to keep her expression cool but her eyes betrayed her as they slightly widened while taking in the half naked, sweaty male beside her. She was truly eye-fucking Lucien. And when y/n gave a side eye to him, she saw how Lucien's gaze was also taking in the witch from head to toe. Manon and y/n's eyes collided and they both tried to calm their growing need for laughter.

Manon was the one to quickly recover, clearing her throat, causing the two to just look away immediately, a small, tiny blush overtaking Petrah's cheeks as she tried saying in her most stable voice, "Uh...yeah um- me and Manon are going after the surviving valg."

That caused both her and Lucien's mood to sour as he quickly asked, his voice heavy with concern and frustration, "And you were planning to go alone?! Just the two of you?! Do you even know where you're going?"

Manon scoffed and Petrah's brows furrowed in anger as she crossed her arms, "You think too little of us, prince. Just wait till you see us in action. We are no weaklings."

Manon interfered, "I have a guess about where they might be so I decided to go there. I was going to go all alone, but Petrah found me midway and is now stuck to me like a leech, as you can see."

Petrah glared at her queen, "I'm your second in command, it's my job to have your back."

Before y/n could reply, Lucien said, in a determined voice, "I am coming with you." as he went towards Luna while putting his shirt on, not giving any room for arguments. Petrah looked after him and sighed in frustration before marching over to reach him.

Manon looked at y/n, one eyebrow raised, waiting to hear her decision.

She smirked at the queen, "Well, can't let my kin and my friend go on a dangerous mission without me."

Manon chuckled as she turned and began walking towards Abraxos, "You are a fighter, witchling."

Once they were all sat on their respective wyverns, Lucien sitting behind Petrah on Luna and Manon on Abraxos, the queen flew up first, followed by Petrah as y/n stretched her wings one last time before leaping into the sky.

Y/n soared through the morning sky, her wings catching the first rays of sunlight as they spread wide and strong. The world below was bathed in the soft hues of dawn, casting long shadows across the landscape. Manon and the others flew ahead, their wyverns cutting through the crisp morning air with purpose.

The morning air was alive with the sounds of nature awakening—the distant call of birds, the rustle of leaves stirred by the wind, and the occasional distant roar of a wild creature. Y/n could feel the pulse of anticipation, a quiet understanding that they were on the cusp of something significant.

Beside her, Abraxos glided effortlessly, his scales gleaming in the early light. Y/n glanced at Manon and Petrah ahead, their expressions resolute as they navigated towards the mountainous terrain that loomed in the distance. Lucien rode behind Petrah, his posture determined yet cautious, his eyes sharp with vigilance.

Manon's voice broke the tranquility, firm and commanding as she directed their course towards a narrow pass between two towering peaks. Y/n followed, her senses alert, muscles tensed in readiness. They flew closer, the mountains rising like ancient sentinels guarding the secrets hidden within their depths.

As they approached the pass, a sense of solemnity settled over them. Y/n exchanged a glance with Manon, their unspoken communication reflecting a shared resolve. 

Lucien's voice cut through the air, steady and reassuring, "Stay alert, everyone. We don't know what we might find beyond these mountains."

Petrah nodded firmly, her grip tightening on Luna's reins. The morning sunlight cast long shadows ahead, obscuring what lay beyond the threshold of the pass. Together, they flew into the pass, leaving behind the morning light and stepping into the shadowy depths of the mountains. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what fate had in store for them beyond the horizon.

As they ventured deeper into the narrow pass, the air grew cooler and the light dimmer, swallowed by the looming cliffs that surrounded them. Y/n could feel the ancient weight of the mountains pressing in, their jagged peaks reaching towards the sky like the claws of sleeping giants.

Manon led the way with a steady grace, her eyes scanning the rocky terrain for any signs of movement or disturbance. Abraxos' wings beat rhythmically against the silence, a reassuring sound amidst the eerie stillness of the mountain pass.

Without a word, Manon landed and dismounted Abraxos, her movements fluid and silent. Y/n and the others followed suit. The air hummed with tension as they crept forward, every sense alert to the danger that lurked in the shadows.

Before she could blink, Petrah had her claws and teeth out, much to Lucien's absolute shock, and Manon had her sword in her hand, positioned in front of her and ready to strike as she went ahead and slowly lead the way. Y/n mirrored Petrah's actions, letting her nails and teeth out as Lucien also swiped his sword out.

Manon motioned for them to spread out, her eyes gleaming with a fierce determination. With a swift gesture, she indicated a narrow passage leading deeper into the mountain. Y/n nodded as she followed Manon's lead. They moved silently, shadows melding with shadows as they navigated the labyrinthine tunnels.

The air grew colder, carrying the scent of damp earth and something darker—an acrid tang that spoke of ancient magic and lingering menace. Y/n could feel the weight of history in the stones beneath her feet, a silent witness to the battles fought and the secrets buried within the mountain's heart.

Ahead, the tunnel widened into a cavern—a vast, echoing space illuminated by flickering torchlight. Manon's hand tightened on Y/n's shoulder, a silent warning to stay alert. Petrah and Lucien flanked them, their presence a steady reassurance in the face of looming danger. Y/n swallowed hard, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she prepared for whatever lay ahead.

But when they ventured even further into the vast cavern, y/n's eyes widened with shock. The whole place was covered in unique drawings and writings, most probably an old language she had no idea about. Hanging from the rocky ceiling was a huge upside down, marble statue of a woman-

Manon gasped, "Mala the Firebringer,"

Y/n had no idea on who that woman was and from the slight confusion evident on Lucien's face, he didn't know either. But the two other witches gave a wide eyed look at one another before looking back at the tapestry.

The statue of Mala was a haunting sight to behold. Carved from smooth marble, her features were regal and serene, yet an aura of sorrow seemed to emanate from the stone. Black vines and roses wound around her suspended form, twisting and coiling in a macabre embrace. One black rose emerged from her mouth, its petals stark against the pale marble.

But, before they could explore even further, a voice echoed through the cavern—a low, mocking laugh that sent a chill down Y/n's spine. "So, you've come to play, little witches and prince," it taunted, the words dripping with malice.

Laughter echoed back and then, the shadow shifted, a weird creature coming into view. Weird because while the face of this being was that of a young, handsome man, the body was old, wrinkly and all in all, ancient. From the corner of her eye, y/n saw Lucien shift slightly, coming to stand in front of Petrah.

The Valg-whatever smiled an ugly smile, displaying his rotting fangs as he spoke once more, his voice going from young and charming to old and ugly in a second, "What a surprise has it been, Manon Blackbeak. How is your kingdom?"

Manon simply stared at him, not gracing him with an answer, her expression cold and calculating.

The valg chuckled "And you, Petrah Blueblood, aren't you jealous that a Blackbeak heir sits the throne of Witches?"

When Petrah didn't reply either, his gaze shifted to Lucien, "Oh, how could I forget the fire prince? The one that the book deemed fit enough to send between worlds....our worlds. We shall come for Prythian too."

Lucien's expression hardened but he was too busy glancing around, trying to detect if there was anyone else, to even reply to the ancient hag.

Finally, his chilling gaze landed on her, his smile growing even larger as he said, "Ah, y/n. Y/n y/l/n. I always had a suspicion that Elara would have a descendant of hers roaming around somewhere, unaware of her own powers. How hilarious that this whole time, you were in Prythian, a part of that Death Incarnate's court, unaware of who you truly are."

Y/n's breath hitched, "Have- have you been watching me? This whole time?"

The Valg's smile vanished as he ignored her and looked at Manon and Petrah, and said in the most horrific, ancient voice that carried an echo of millennia "Traitors! Traitors!"

Manon's iron teeth came to view as she spoke, "How many of you are here?"

The Valg started to slowly come towards them, "Oh, they do not know of any of you being here. I shall kill you myself and take the glory for myself once I bring them your dead bodies. What a feast it shall be!"

And then, he jumped, right towards her but y/n managed to quickly dodge away from his path, ripping some of his skin off with her iron claws in the process. He was too quick. Whatever these Valg's posessed, it gave them unimaginable powers. Speed is just one of them.

Petrah sprang into action, her iron claws and teeth glinting menacingly in the dim light of the cavern. She moved with a feral grace, ready to confront the Valg with all her strength. Manon and Lucien swiftly joined her, drawing their swords with a determined resolve.

The Valg hissed as it faced the group. Its twisted form was adorned with dark symbols and runes that pulsed ominously with power. The cavern seemed to tremble with its presence, shadows swirling around it like tendrils of malevolent energy.

The Valg let out a guttural growl. It lunged at Petrah with startling speed, claws extended to rend and tear. Petrah met its attack head-on, her iron claws clashing against the Valg's twisted talons.

It retaliated with a burst of dark energy, sending shards of stone and earth hurtling towards the group. Lucien deflected them with his sword, his movements precise and calculated.

Manon danced around the Valg, her sword a blur of lethal strikes. She aimed for its joints, seeking to disable its agility. The Valg countered with a blast of searing energy, forcing Manon to leap back with a curse.

When she saw an opening, y/n lunged. She aimed for the Valg's back, trying to claw its heart out like she did with the other beast in the forest. But the creature moved too quickly, appearing right in front of her, mouth wide open as it battled against her, claws clashing as it tried to bite her throat.

Sensing an opportunity, Lucien lunged forward with a decisive strike, his sword slicing through the air with deadly intent.

With a final, resounding blow, Lucien's sword pierced the Valg's heart. Dark blood spilled from the wound, mingling with the shadows that surrounded them. The creature let out a haunting cry, its form dissolving into wisps of dark smoke that dissipated into the cavern air.

Silence descended upon the cavern, broken only by the ragged breaths of the group. They stood together, chests heaving with exertion and adrenaline still coursing through their veins. Y/n tilted her head back while closing her eyes, relief flooding her as she looked at her companions.

They all seemed fine. As fine as someone who fought against a demon beast could be atleast. But it wasn't until Petrah looked up at everyone with wide eyes, suddenly falling to her knees while clutching her stomach, blue blood visibly beginning to cover her hands.

No.....no, Petrah could not die like this. She could not.

Before y/n could even process it, Lucien ran towards the witch, screaming, "Petrah!" Manon, wide eyed, shouted, "Quick! Get her on Luna! We have to leave, now!"

Lucien easily got ahold of her, gently lifting her up in a bridal style as he ran after Manon, y/n following suit, covering their backs.

"Just press on the wound Petrah! We will get you healed soon, please just hold on a little more."

Lucien'c voice was frantic, unrecognizable as they all quickly made their ways to the wyverns, Manon looked at the prince, "Do you know how to ride a wyvern?"

"I-"

"Yes or no, we are loosing time!"

"Yes! I will! I will manage just- just help me get her on Luna!"

Once Petrah, barely conscious, was secured, Lucien sat right behind her, gripping her waist gently as he took ahold of the wyvern's reigns with his other hand and immediately leapt off the ground, followed by Manon and y/n.

They flew as fast as they could, Lucien leading the way and shouting at Luna to fly faster. Y/n could only hope that they would make it in time to the palace because even though she hadn't known Petrah for very long, she had grown to warm up towards the witch. Not to mention how they were of the same kin which made y/n feel protective over her.

Once they reached the palace, y/n landed first followed by the two wyverns. She quickly ran towards Lucien to help as Manon went inside to call for a healer immediately. The distress written all over his face made y/n feel so worried for her dear friend. She knew how he felt. After all, that is exactly how she was when Fenrys got injured. Why? she had no idea.

They entered the palace, Petrah barely holding on, Lucien going livid while carrying her in his arms, Y/n by his side, her hand on Petrah's stomach, covered in blue blood. Manon came rushing back with not just some of the healers but also Aelin, Rowan, Aedion and Fenrys.

There was chaos all around her and when the healers moved to take Petrah and put her on a stretcher, Lucien growled. He growled at the healers as if they were an enemy, "She goes in my arms."

The healers nodded and quickly lead the way, followed by the others and y/n was also about to follow when someone grabbed her arm and turned her around, making her loose her balance and almost crush with a hard chest. The hands went to her shoulders, helping her to stable herself as she looked up to see.....Fenrys. And Cauldron save her, he did not look happy at all. His onyx eyes were wide with anger as his grip on her tightened.

Before she could blink, he dragged her with him, not caring about the blue blood on her hands and arms getting on his skin too. She had no idea what was going on, where he was taking her, just stumbling behind him as he gripped her by the arm and lead the way.

"Fenrys what are you doing?"

He didn't answer.

"Fen, slow down!"

He didn't.

"I swear-"

He opened some door and shoved her in, following close behind before locking them in.

When he turned to face her, his fists were clenching and unclenching beside him as the vein on his neck was also popping out due to the clear anger at whataver it is that he was presenting her with.

Fenrys came to stand right in front of her, their chests touching as he suddenly grabbed her jaw with his hand and turned her face from one side to the other, assesing her.

Her brows furrowed, "Fenrys-"

"Shut up."

Well, he was definetly mad at her. His voice was filled with a mixture of frustration and worry.

Once Fenrys was done assesing her face, he took a step back before looking all over her body, from her head to her toes, to her wings. And once he was done with that too, he looked back at her eyes, his intense eyes focusing in on hers.

Y/n felt like she wanted to shrink and become invisible under his livid gaze. Before she could question him even further, he once again came to stand in front of her, looking down on her face.

"How dare you."

Confusion was evident in her face as y/n asked, "What?"

He suddenly grabbed her waist pressing her body to his with one arm and gently bringing her head to his chest while caressing her hair with the other.

Now, he whispered, "How dare you put yourself in the way of danger again. Didn't I promise you that I would shield you from any kind of darkness? How can you go there without telling me, risking yourself."

He was concerned for her? This was why he was mad? Because she put herself in danger?

"Fen-"

"What if it was you instead of Petrah? I would have to go on a full on killing spree then, paint this entire kingdom in black blood."

She tilted her head back, raising an eyebrow, "And where is this protectiveness coming from?"

That question seemed to change something in him, making realization over what he just said take over his face, causing him to slightly loosen his grip on her.

And then, he said the sentence that completely shattered any foolish feelings or growing hope within her chest, bringing her back to reality.

"How will you go back if you're dead? Can't have you dead on my watch, friend."

She pushed back, ripping herself out of his arms as she looked at him, her face full of rising anger and annoyance, "So that's it then? you need me alive so that you won't feel responsible or guilty if I end up dead? So that you can send me back to my world? That's it?"

Fenrys scoffed, crossing his arms, "What did you expect, y/n? That just because I talked with you, that because we kissed and I ate you out, we would have some sort of a relationship? Well, let me tell this to you now, erase any of those kinds of thoughts. You and I have no happy end. It was just purely physical."

It wasn't just purely physical though and he knew it. It was far more intimate than that.

Logically, he was right. They were nothing, they would always be nothing. Their story would be a tragedy instead of a happy one. She has to go back and he has to stay here. They were both stressed and used last night as an opportunity to be vulnurable and intimate with one another. Logically, she should agree with him because after what happened with Azriel, her heart shouldn't feel this way.

But, emotionally, she was just dissapointed. Why? She had no right. He was right, her mind was already getting ahead of itself, imagining a future that would never happen.

Foolish, foolish heart.

With a deep breath, she looked back at him, sculpturing her face into a mask of indifference as she moved past Fenrys, while speaking with a cool and steady voice, "You are right. We are a tragedy waiting to happen."

Before she could hear his reply, y/n quickly left the room, closing the door behind her as she strided towards the healers hut.

Once she reached the place, y/n saw everyone except Yrene and Lucien gathered in the room, waiting for Isolde to come out from the adjacent room with news. At her confused expression, Lysandra said from her place on the couch, "Lucien refused to leave her side. When Rowan and Aedion tried to move him away, he threatened to rip them apart."

Interesting.

She nodded her head slightly in understanding and looked around the room. Everyone's expression's were solemn and mournful, Manon looked worse than them all, Dorian kept on caressing her back and pecking her head with light, gentle kisses as she leaned on him.

She went and sat beside Manon in the corner of the room. Placing her hand on the queen's shoulder. Everyone was busy with their own hushed conversations as Manon whispered, for only y/n and Dorian to hear, "It's my fault."

Both the Illyrian and the king beside the witch replied at the same time, "No!"

Dorian's grip on her tightened, "It's absolutely not your fault, witchling. How-"

Manon just moved back from him, now sitting upright between y/n and him as she stared off into the distance with a sad smile, "The Thirteen died because of me. Now, she will die because of me too. I really am a kin slayer."

Y/n had no idea about who The Thirteen were but, she knew about Petrah and Manon for sure wasn't the one to blame for her injury.

Dorian took her face in his hands and turned her face towards him, "Manon, listen. The Thirteen chose to sacrifice themselves for a better world. You didn't force them, you didn't order them to do it. They did it because they loved you and wanted you to lead the witches into a brighter future."

She just shook her head and y/n put her hand on the witches, making both her and Dorian look at y/n. "Manon, we all went there while knowing what could've happened. Petrah went there, she followed you because you are her queen. You are her leader and she is loyal to you. Her loyalty and repect lies with you. We all fought and Petrah got that injury knowing that it was a possibility when we first came there. So I will not allow you to blame yourself over her attack."

The queen's expression was still sorrowful but the corner of her lips did twitch slightly while her grip on her hand tightened and y/n took it as a form of progress.

Manon whispered again, "When we were in Morath, Erawan would tell us how he was planning on sending his valg spies into the area between those to mountains in Orynth. That's why I thought maybe they could've still been there."

Aelin's voice made the three of them turn towards her and y/n's eyes caught Fenrys entering the room, no sign of any blue blood on him. He clearly changed out of his clothes. His eyes went straight to her but y/n willed herself to look at Aelin.

"Alright, since we are all here, waiting for news on Petrah's well-being, we might as well discuss our next move," the blond queen looked at Chaol who was still in a wheelchair next to Eva, "Chaol, since you're her husband, I am guessing you have an idea on Yrene's progress."

The man just sighed as he said, "Obviously, from the state that I am in, my wife is working very hard. I try my best to persuade her for some rest but, she won't move away from the damned books. She eats and drinks but doesn't sleep. And everytime I ask her on what's happening, she just shushes me and tells me 'soon'. So, that's all from me, really."

Aelin nodded and looked at y/n and Manon as she said, "And now, thanks to these four, we know where the valg may be hidden. We just don't know how many of them are there and how deep they are settled. We need a proper sketch and layout of their place."

Rowan got up and headed towards the door, "I will go find Nox. He is good at staying hidden and working stealthily."

Aedion looked at his cousin, "And once we figure every detail about them out, what then?"

Aelin looked at everyone in the room, "Then, we destroy them, and hopefully, whatever Yrene finds, will help us to completely end the valg. And then," the queen turned to look straight at y/n, her gaze unvawering, as she said, "And then, y/n closes the gates."

Y/n furrowed her brows, her heart rate increasing, "And how do I do that?"

Aelin crossed her arms, her gaze calculating, "I guess that is the only thing left for us to solve now."

So this was really happening now, wasn't it? Just one more step and she would be home with Lucien. Somehow, that thought left a sour taste in her mouth.

The door on the other side of the room opened, Isolde coming into view, everyone's attention went to her as she smiled slightly and said, "She will be fine. The wound was deep but no concerning damage was done to the internal organs. Thankfully, you managed to bring her quickly for medical intervention which is why a complication like infection wasn't observed either. She is still unconscious but hopefully, with our healing and treatments, she will be awake in a few days."

She heard audible sighs of relief, one coming from her and the witch beside her as Manon sagged back into Dorian's embrace while still holding y/n's hand.

"Thank you, Isolde." Aelin hugged the healer as everyone started to slowly exit the room. Fenrys glanced at her once more before pushing past Lorcan and leaving. Y/n guessed it was about time she went up to her room and washed up before hopefully, getting some much needed sleep.

Isolde opened the door and went back into the room, but not before y/n saw a glimpse of Lucien's red hair, as he sat on a chair, his head low, arms on his knees, right next to the bed Petrah was in.

He was an idiot. A fool.

Fenrys closed squeezed his eyes shut as he sat on his balcony floor, leaning against the wall six hours later. For the past few hours, ever since his little heated argument with her, he tried to keep himself busy, hoping that he would forget whatever was between them. Whatever this constant pain in his heart was.

After he left the healing hut, Fenrys shifted and took a walk through the woods to clear his mind. When that didn't work, he had Lorcan fight with him in the training ring. When that didn't work either, he immersed himself in paperwork, signing and reading countless letters and news for him. Unfortunately, two hours of that didn't help either so, he tried to help Yrene with the book-- solving whatever --but she kicked him out after only a half hour of work because according to her, 'he was stressing too much about something, which made her stress too.' And lastly, he sat with Abraxos and Luna but the two wyverns seemed to be quite occupied with one another, making him feel jealous of a Gods damned wyvern, so he left them too and came to his room, still unsuccessful in his conquest of forgetting y/n, staring blankly at the last rays of sunlight before the dawn of the sunset.

The face she had made when he had talked so cruelly to her constantly replayed itself in his mind, causing him to groan out in frustration. He didn't mean it. Gods curse him, he didn't mean any of it. But his foolish, stubborn side made him blabber those words out at her, still, for some reason, annoyed at the fact that she would leave soon. And Aelin openly stating that earlier didn't make it any better.

Why? Fenrys why?

That was a good question, one to which he still had no answer. Fenrys definetly felt something for her, that much he can admit and after what happened last night, his feelings only intensified. But she wasn't his. Yes, he made a promise and yes he would keep it. Even when she will be long gone, back to her world, he would still ensure that her light never dims.

But it was normal right? Friends care and protect one another and y/n had become a very good friend to him in these last few weeks.

Friends don't kiss each other on the lips.

He ignored that silly little voice. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days, ignoring.

Fenrys sighed and opened his eyes, soaking in the view in front of him. He acted like an uncultured beast towards her today. He could never stoop as low as anyone else in her life did towards her, as Azriel did towards her. Gods, if he made her feel pained, what is his difference from that other male? If she ever told him that he was just like Azriel, Fenrys would have to kill that bastard male first and then kill himself because none of them ever deserved her kindness, her care....her heart. And that wouldn't do. He had to apologize, had to make amends, but how?

You know how, idiot. The place.

But, is she the one? Does she deserve to see that place? To recieve that gift from him? He meant to show that place only and only to his mate, if he ever found them.

Don't be foolish, Fenrys. Show her.

A sudden surge of determination and need took over his senses as Fenrys got up and headed towards his bane of existence's room.

He knocked on the door once, she didn't open.

Twice, she didn't open.

On the third time, the door opened and he was met with a very angry yet adorable looking witchling.

She clearly woke up from some kind of a nap because her hair was a mess, her cheeks were red and her clothes were crumpled. But what made her even cuter was the way she tried to seem intimidating by giving him an angry glare and crossing her arms over her chest.

"What."

That one word brought Fenrys back from his little world as he cleared his throat and told her, "Get changed, I am taking you somewhre."

She was about to protest when he raised his hand, effectively silencing her. "I'm sorry if that sounded like a question. Get changed, I am taking you somewhere."

And with that, Fenrys turned around and left down the hall with a smirk, knowing how curious she was and that in the end, it would win over her other feelings, making her follow him.

Twenty minutes later, he saw her come down, dressed in a simple long sleeved, ankle length, light gold dress that still somehow managed to make her the most attractive being he had ever laid his eyes upon.

She was furious but in the end, her curiosity got the best of her as she got ready while still cursing Fenrys' name and whatever his plans were. But, seeing him so enthralled with her, taking her in from head to toe when she came down the stairs, made y/n feel a level of confidence and power that she had never felt before.

Fenrys himself looked beyond attractive as she took him in. Hair let loose, cascading down to his chest, a simple white tunic and black pants with knee high boots. Yet he still looked so hot and delicious and otherworldly and charming and-

Enough. What's wrong with you??

Y/n reached him and cleared her throat, causing the male to refocus his attention on the reality. He put his palm behind his neck, rubbing it as he smiled a little, "You look....beautiful."

She wanted to thank him, to compliment him in return but, he still had a long explanation to make and she wasn't about to just forgive him this easily.

Fenrys turned towards the doors and said, "Follow me."

And follow him she did. They walked inside the forest, going deeper and deeper with each passing second, making y/n question her choice of wearing a dress. It seemed like hours, sunset already starting, before they reached the apparent location. Multiple rows of vines were hanging from trees, covering the view beyond. Once Fenrys made way for them, they reached an opening.

And y/n let out an audible gasp at what she saw.

Soft, iridescent mist drifted lazily through the air, catching the dappled rays of sunset that filtered down from the canopy above. The ground beneath was carpeted with lush moss that glowed with a faint, silvery luminescence, casting gentle reflections onto the surrounding foliage.

In the center of the glade, a crystalline pool of water shimmers like liquid sapphire, its surface as smooth as glass and. Ethereal blossoms of palest blue and silver grew along the water's edge, their delicate petals unfolding in silent reverence to the magical energies that imbue the glade.

Towering ancient trees with silver-barked trunks encircle the glade, their branches adorned with shimmering leaves that seem to dance with every breath of wind. Ethereal creatures, elusive and radiant, flit among the branches, their forms translucent and their voices a melody that echoes through the glade.

And because it was dusk, the glade took on an otherworldly glow. Fireflies with wings of opalescent hues emerged from hidden alcoves, their gentle bioluminescence creating a constellation of flickering lights that hover above the glade like a canopy of stars.

"I found this place absolutely ruined after the war and transformed into what it is now. No one knows of it's existence. Well, apart from you and me."

Y/n turned her head to look at Fenrys, a little behind her, also looking around as he continued, "I found this place on accident, really. I saw the lake and though everything around it was destroyed, it still shimmered, still called to me. I also felt the immense magical presence still surrounding this place."

He looked up with a serene smile, "The Little Folk also helped me. They recognized me as someone who was worthy enough of helping, and aided me in creating this place. Ever since then, it has just been a secret. A well kept one. And I have been coming here whenever I needed an escape, which seems to be happening more and more nowadays." he finished his explanation with a low chukle.

Y/n's lips trembled as she started to slowly approach him, her voice shaky as she asked, "Why? Why show this place to me then?"

Now standing side by side, right next to the water, he turned to face her, his face becoming serious once more, "Y/n, I am truly so sorry for what I have said to you. I know I may be hard to be around with but I am trying, I am trying and it's for you. Only you. I will be truthful for I do not enjoy lying. I have come to feel some things towards you. A mixture of things, actually. Care, adoration, respect, loyalty. I have come to enjoy your presence in my life, too much actually. And I know I shouldn't because you will leave at some point. You will leave and forget me-"

She shut him up with a kiss. He was startled for a moment but then kissed her back. Her hands came around to his back as he pulled her even closer. After what felt like forever, they pulled back for air, both of them panting heavily as y/n whispered, "I will never forget you, Fenrys."

The second she said that, he pushed back, his eyes going wide, clutching his chest.

He was planning on giving her the gift. The one he had created so many years ago with a silly little hope of ever gifting it to his mate. The special one. But what was happening to him now, made him realize that it wasn't a silly little hope. It was real.

Fenrys suddenly felt that unmistakable bond, that unmistakable golden thread that began woving itself within him. That immediate rush of unexplainable mix of emotions and powers hitting him, making him realize that.....

Y/n, the y/n standing in front of him, was Fenrys' mate.

Oh, fuck.

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[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM New Beginnings Fics

Hey everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who participated. I am so happy to share everyone’s hard work. If you have a oneshot or masterlist you’d like me to add, please send me a message - new additions are always welcome.

First, check out @emberfrostlovesloki 's 🌈 Masterlist of Entries ☀️: This lovely prolific writer has entered several fics, which include Hotch, Emily, and Spencer fics! Check out their page for even more!

🌼 SFW S.R./Reader Entries 🌼

Play Dates by me: [GN] Reader finds out Spencer hasn’t had many dates and offers several Play Dates.

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder by @foxy-eva: [GN] Spencer was the right person at the wrong time, no doubt about it. When Reader is finally back in town, they're ready for a fresh start. 

You're Gonna Go Far, Love by @writer-in-theory: [GN] After relapsing, Spencer takes the first flight with no plan other than to get a fresh start.

Love Like the Sea by @rynwritesreid: [GN] After Spencer lost Maeve, he swore of love, until Reader came around.

Cowboy Like Me by @foxy-eva: [Fem] Spencer decides to fulfill a childhood dream to become a cowboy.

In Sickness and In Health by @pathologicalreid: [Fem] Minutes before Reader's wedding is supposed to start, Spencer gets cold feet.

Maybe We Found Love Right Where We Are by @andiebeaword: [Fem] Spencer just got engaged to Maeve on Valentine’s Day. Finding out his best friend’s heart will be broken changes things. 

More ratings and pairings below!

🌼 Other Pairings/Gen SFW Fics 🌼

Silent Demon by @angellsell: [Derek/Fem!Reader] Reader celebrates a month milestone of sobriety, but she isn't very proud of it.

Hearts on Our Sleeves by @angellsell: [Hotch/Fem!Reader] Aaron and Reader decide to give a try at a new relationship after a long dry spell.

Good Fortune by @reasonablerodents: [Hotchreid] Spencer and Aaron are the only ones without a partner for a New Year's Kiss.

And When Dawn Came by @snarkylinda: [Gen] Spencer calls Emily the night that Cat has the baby he decided to adopt.

The Date by @codename-mom: [Gen] Jessica didn't expect what her former brother-in-law was going to ask her.

Last Recruit by @/codename-mom: [Gen] There's a new agent at the BAU eager to start her new life. Her name is Penelope Garcia.

First Steps by @/codename-mom: [Gen] Rossi found a young agent named Aaron Hotchner who could be a good new recruit for the BAU.

First Day at School by @/codename-mom: [Gen] Jack is now old enough to go at school and his father has trouble to deal with this very special day.

🌼 NSFW Entries (S.R./Fem!R) 🌼

Second Time's a Charm by @foxy-eva: Back in college Spencer Reid and Fem!Reader left many things unsaid. Years later they give it another try.

It’s Too Cliché by me: Reader and Spencer are the worst at friends with benefits. After an exchange of gifts & nasty words, the two reunite on a very eventful NYE.

For the Love of Lace by @reidmotif: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend anymore but needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her date.

Sweet Agony by @incognit0slut: After tragedy, Reader believed she was unworthy of love. Spencer proves her wrong.

Maybe Someday by @dudeitiskarev: (Mini-series) A case brought you back to Spencer, and this time, he won’t let you slip away.

Co-Creator Bonus List

🌼 SFW S.R./Fem!R Fics 🌼

The Only Hoax I Believe In by Foxy: Spencer struggles with his addiction after prison until Reader is determined to help him, no matter the cost.

The Perfect Plan by me: Reader has a question for Spencer, but things don’t go according to plan.

Impromptu by me: Reader learns some shocking news when a case lands her in the hospital.

Defining Family by me: Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.

Clean Shaven by me: Reader helps Spencer shave after prison.

Drunk Dial by me: It’s been years since Reader talked to Spencer, but after a bunch of drinks it seems like a really good idea.

Repentance by me: Spencer is confronted with his second chance at life, finding it full of regrets. Reader tries to talk him through it.

Happy Hydrangea by me: TransMan!Reader. JJ is corrected in finding out Spencer has had a boyfriend for a while now.

🌼 NSFW S.R./Fem!R Fics 🌼

Lily of the Valley (Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3) by me: Unsub!Reid. Spencer was found guilty but mentally ill after the torture and murder of several men. He finds solace in his psychiatrist at the institution.

Duet by Foxy: Letting the love of his life get away was Spencer’s biggest regret, so he decides to go after her.

Honeymoon by Foxy: Spencer and his wife are excited about their future (and their honeymoon).

To Have and To Hold by me: Reader is trying to save her marriage, but Spencer seems resigned to its failure.

Stork Song by me: Spencer and Reader try to find intimacy again following a terrible loss.

Domesticity by me: Reader gets worked up watching Spencer with kids. He notices.

Different Kind of Daddy by me: After a rough day, Reader has good news for her husband.

🌼 Other SFW Pairings 🌼

Till Death Do Us Part by Foxy: [Emily/GN!Reader] Reader didn't expect grief to linger after Emily came back from the dead.

Motherhood by Foxy: [Tara/Emily] Emily and Tara finally become mothers.

Happy Reading!

P.S. If I missed your fic or you have a new one to add, feel free to send me a message. I would love to add it!

[annwrites]

⸻ peonies & passion. ⸻

· pairing: queen maeve x fem!reader · type: one-shot · summary: maeve's usual assistant is out sick for the day & you're assigned in her place. unbeknownst to you, maeve always looks forward to the few & far between times when you replace the woman...so she can see you again. · tags: soft, sapphic romance, fluff, pining, cuddling, kissing · word count: 2,569

She knows she makes you nervous. But, in truth, while you're busy mentally beating yourself black and blue for stumbling over your words and two left feet because of her presence, it only serves to endear you to her all the more.

She likes how easily she can make you blush with only a playful wink, or by nudging you with her shoulder. She also likes the smell of your perfume, which reminds her of peonies, and that, even when you're gone, the scent of you still lingers where her skin has brushed against your own.

She likes when she catches you shyly staring at her, only to look away embarrassed when her eyes meet yours.

She likes your quiet voice and lovely laugh.

She likes.

She likes.

She likes...you.

Maggie always dreads this part of the day: the end of it. Well, only when you're once again in each other's company, that is.

Because, once it ends, unless her usual assistant calls out again come tomorrow—and she's definitely secretly hoping that she will—it will be an undetermined amount of time before she sets eyes, or gently brushing fingertips upon you again.

She wonders, often, if your sheepishness is due to her supe persona, or her.

She wonders if you like girls.

But she can't just come out and ask that, because she doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. And God-forbid you take it for sexual harassment. She's not a scumbag like the Deep. She could never hurt or take advantage of you. She never wants you to think otherwise.

Because she...adores you.

Her, one of the strongest women in the world, brought metaphorically to her knees by someone so soft and fragile. But that's exactly why she loves likes you. For all your charming qualities. Physical or otherwise.

"Would you want to stay for a bit?" Maeve asks quietly while removing her diadem.

You blink at her nervously with wide eyes and she fights back a grin at the adorable sight.

"Oh. Is there something else that you need?"

She shakes her head, throwing the jewelry piece onto the coffee table. "Just wanted some company. Unless you have somewhere else you need to be?"

You clutch your tablet to your chest and softly shake your head, and she watches as your soft curls cascade over your shoulders.

She wonders if they feel as smooth as they look before her eyes flit back to your own.

"I don't," you reply sweetly, with a kind smile.

She nods toward her bedroom. "I'm going to get changed, then maybe we can order takeout and watch something?"

You smile and nod again.

She grins. "Do you want to borrow something? Just so you're more comfortable?"

You take a step closer. "S-sure."

She nods, then turns back toward the bedroom and you begin to follow along behind her, until she stops and glances to you over her shoulder.

Your eyes flit between hers only briefly before your face turns a shade of crimson. "Right. Sorry. I'll let you change first, then..."

She would have no qualms with you following along after and watching her. Or, much more, letting her undress and dress you in her clothes—or simply undress, so she can admire the piece of artwork she's sure you're hiding beneath your sweater and dress slacks—but she refrains from offering something she's sure will lead to you never coming back here.

To you never coming back to her.

Once Maeve has finished changing into a loose sweater and joggers, she returns to you with a t-shirt and sweatpants resting atop her arms.

She lets her hands brush against yours when she gives them to you.

"You can change in my room, if you want."

You nod silently before glancing to her from under your long lashes and stepping past her with heated cheeks.

She knows it's cliché and maybe a little on-the-nose, but because the story can be construed either way, she streams Fried Green Tomatoes while the two of you eat Chinese takeout.

She glances to you from the corner of her eye, watching as you take a bite of your crab rangoon and she bites back a smile at you being so near her. While wearing her clothes. And in her apartment, at that.

You lean forward and grasp a bit of lo mein between your chopsticks and your hair falls forward—nearly into your food—so she reaches over and tucks it gently behind your ear while allowing her knuckles to graze the warm skin of your cheek.

You glance to her with a mouthful of noodles and she grins broadly at the sight.

Your heart skips a beat.

Once the movie is through, Maeve is reluctant to move, even if she needs to desperately pee.

But she refuses to, because you’ve fallen asleep against her shoulder. Your cheek rests upon the crown of it while your body is pressed firmly into her side as slow, steady breaths escape through your slightly-parted lips. 

She smiles softly to herself at the feel of your warmth before slowly leaning her head to the side to rest atop your own.

She knows it’s dangerous to let herself fantasize about a life she could never have—it only makes the yearning for you ten times worse, as if that’s even possible at this point—but she lets herself anyway. For only a moment.

So she imagines a life where this is what she has to look forward to coming home to every night: you. 

Whether it’s with you in sweats eating junk food and takeout on the couch while watching bad B-movies on TV, or the pair of you lying in bed while she caresses every inch of your body while whispering sweet nothings to you to ensure you never forget how treasured you are by her, she would be content. Because it’s you that she would be sharing every moment with.

And then you stir in your sleep and the fantasy slips away.

You slowly lift your head and blink sleepily at her for a moment.

And all she wants in the entire world is to crush her lips to yours.

But she can’t lose you.

So she merely smiles instead. 

“Evening, sleepy head.”

You sit up suddenly then and your eyes grow wide while you shrink into yourself out of embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” you say quietly.

She shakes her head while standing and gathering up empty Chinese takeout containers to toss in the trash on her way to the bathroom. “Don’t be. You’re exhausted. And I didn’t mind.”

When she returns to you after relieving herself, it’s to you gathering your things. 

“Are…are you leaving?”

You glance to Maeve while shrugging on your cross-body bag. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired. I probably should’ve been in bed an hour ago.”

You blush while shifting nervously on your feet. “I had a nice time tonight. Thanks for dinner. I appreciated it.”

She takes a small step forward, desperate for a reason to keep you a bit longer. As in…all night.

“You could just stay here. If you’d like?”

You merely blink at her, your mind going blank in an instant.

“It’s just that you’re exhausted, like I said, and… I don’t want to have to worry about you on the roads. And I don’t mind if you, y’know, sleep over. I’m no Homelander, so I can’t exactly fly you home, or I would.”

She cringes internally. If that didn’t sound like a pathetic excuse at a come-on, she doesn’t know what would. 

“I don’t want to be a burden, or impose,” you insist.

She shakes her head, padding toward you. “You could never be that to me.”

She runs a hand down your arm, taking your bag from you. “The bedroom is this way.”

“Oh. I could just…” You glance back to the couch, then back to her. “If you have some extra sheets?”

She shrugs slightly. “My bed is more than big enough for two. Besides, what kind of sleepover would it be if I banished you to the other room?”

She throws an arm around your shoulder then, tugging you in the right direction alongside her.

You said goodnight to each other over twenty minutes ago, yet Maeve’s heart is still pattering away in her chest like a goddamn machine gun at the fact that you’re lying in her bed, only a few inches away. 

You’re turned on your side away from her, but she can tell from the depth and rate of your breaths that you’re still awake as well. 

She wants to say something. 

Should she say something? 

If she does…what? 

Maybe you’re on the verge of sleep and her talking will only serve to jolt you back awake. And she doesn’t want you dragging tomorrow, simply for your own sake.

But she has you here. In her bed. She has been desperate for months to see you again and now she has you all to herself.

She won’t waste the opportunity.

“So,” she says quietly. “What did you think they were?”

You slowly open your heavy lids and your brows furrow. “Hm?”

“Idgie and Ruth,” she explains. 

You turn over to face her, and you stare at her while she stares up at the ceiling.

“What about them?”

She folds her hands atop her stomach. “Have you ever wondered if they were more than just friends? I mean, it always came off that way to me in the movie. I don’t know about the book, since I’ve never read it.”

She turns her head to look at you. “Have you?”

You shake your head. 

She remains silent, waiting for your thoughts. Rather, for you to take the hint at what she’s trying to imply.

“Some, I think. Even when I was little, I always thought Idgie was a lesbian. She seemed more butch to me, at least. Like, Ruth was the only person in the whole movie she had eyes for.”

She slides her hand infinitesimally closer to you. “What about Ruth? Do you think she loved Idgie? I mean, I know she did, but I mean in that way.”

Your eyes flit between Maeve’s. “What do you think?”

She slides her hand the least bit closer, ignoring the way it shakes from nerves and uncertainty. “I think she was all Idgie could think about. And that Idgie adored her and…and she would’ve done anything for her just to make her happy and keep her safe. But Ruth… I think, maybe, she was afraid to admit that other part of herself existed. Fully, at least.”

You pulse begins to quicken.

Is Maeve… Is she…

You take a moment, then reply. “I think that Ruth saw Idgie as being stronger than her. And thus out of her league, you might say. And Ruth just…tried to do what was expected of her. Because that’s the way she was raised: to be a perfect, demure young lady who stays quiet and within the lines. She didn’t want to hold Idgie back. Maybe because she feared she could never get to the level of fearlessness Idgie had been at since she was a child. She wanted her to be the free spirit she was always meant to be.”

Maeve finally rests her palm atop the back of your hand. “Maybe Idgie felt like she could only be that when she was with Ruth, though.”

Maeve feels like she might as well turn into a giant fucking cheesewheel at the way she’s talking to you, but you make her that: into a sappy romantic. She just feels like you’re the type who probably has an appreciation for that sort of thing. And she likes when you’re happy, especially from her causing.

“Maeve—”

“My real name is Maggie. Which I think you know already, but you can call me that instead. If you want.”

You swallow thickly, starting again. “Maggie, are you… Do you—”

She finally crosses the threshold she’s been toeing cautiously for months on-end. 

“Like you? What finally gave it away?” She asks with a soft smile before caressing your cheek.

You blanch. “Oh. I…”

You trail off, having no idea how to approach this situation.

Wait.

Is that why she wanted you in her bed? To stay the night? 

You’d thought so differently of her, but instead…she’s just like every other power-hungry celebrity, isn’t she?

Your eyes sting at the sudden realization.

“I’m not… I didn’t come here to…” You grasp for the best way to word this that won’t lose you your job.

Meanwhile, Maggie’s heart shatters.

“Oh. I thought maybe…”

She drops her hand away. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I misread things.”

You both stew in awkward silence for a moment. 

“You don’t think that I’m…”She looks at you again. “I’m not trying to sleep with you.”

You stare at her doubtfully. “You’re not?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “No, sweetheart. I’m just…”

She sighs. “Alright, here goes: I’m crazy about you. I know the times we see each other are few and far between, but in the interim you’re all I think about. And I’ve been too scared to tell you any of this out of the fear of making you feel uncomfortable or harassed, or out of the risk of never seeing you again.”

Your heart jumps into your throat and your stomach quickly fills with butterflies.

Maggie watches appreciatively as your cheeks turn pink, which she can see even in the dim lighting the moon provides only in thin slivers through her bedroom curtains.

“I’ve only ever been with boys before,” you whisper.

She scoots the least bit closer to you. “Maybe I could change that.”

A pause. “Can I kiss you?”

A smile spreads suddenly across your face without warning and her heart warms at the sight.

You nod silently.

Maggie moves even closer until her body is pressed along the length of your own.

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek, and then she presses her lips to your own.

And you taste just as sweet as you look and sound and act and smell and… Nothing has ever been as perfect as this moment.

She gently spreads your plush lips with her own before tenderly flicking her tongue against yours and she nearly moans at the sensation.

God, you’re fucking perfect. Everything she’s been waiting for. Her girl.

After a moment, she pulls away and you half-bury your face in a pillow while staring up at her. “Have you and… Well, am I…”

She knows what you’re getting at.

“It’s only you, honey.”

She slowly wraps her arms around you. 

“Only you,” she whispers while pressing a loving kiss to the crown of your head.

You snuggle against her neck, and your eyes slowly flutter closed while a hot tear slips from the corner of your eye. “I’ve waited for so long to do that. I was always scared of what it would be like if I ever tried. I don’t know why I was now.”

She cradles the back of your head in her palm. “You and me both.”

“Why me?” You ask in a whisper. “I mean, you’re you, and I’m just—”

She leans back and grips your chin firmly between her fingertips. 

“Everything I’ve been waiting for,” she replies, cutting you short.

She leans in for another kiss.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

No Distance Left to Run | Part 1 | S.R

Next Part

Chapter Summary - Truth or Dare? A harmless teenage game gone wrong when spoken by the man holding you hostage. And when you’re feeling for your best friend come to light after fifteen years, how will you and Spencer cope in the aftermath?

Pairing - Spencer Reid / BAU Fem! Readers

Category - friends to lovers | mutual pining | angst with happy ending | smut minors DNI

Warnings - spoilers for 14.15 Truth or Dare and mentions of 13.17 The Capilanos, canon compliant hostage situation, guns, brief mention of Maeve, drinking, arguing, very brief mention of past drug addiction and prison arc, hints at domestic violence, burns.

WC - 8.7k

Part 1 - Truth or Dare?

The world stood still. For what could have only equated to five seconds, the world stood still. 

Five seconds somehow felt like an entire lifetime, where all outside stimuli faded from vision, sounds disappearing before they could hit eardrums. The way his wrists and knee and the rest of his body had ached and throbbed just moments ago slipped away. 

The world stood still. All he could see was you and all he could hear were the words you’d spoken five seconds before that had caused the earth to suddenly stop turning on its axis with the weight of them. 

For five seconds, which felt like five hours, he saw the last fifteen years flash before his eyes. Every subtle glance, every tiny smile; every accidental touch. Every word ever shared between the two of you that he’d catalogued in his brain came spiralling forth, flooding his senses to the point he wasn’t sure he could breathe.

For five seconds it was simply you and him and those words you’d spoken at the worst possible time. But you’d said it. And he heard it. He just had no idea what he was supposed to do with it now. 

There was once a time when hearing those words spoken from your lips to his ears was all he had ever wanted. He’d imagined you saying them to him more times than was healthy, so often in fact there were instances in which he actually managed to convince himself you had said them. 

But you never had. Not until now. 

And now he had no idea how he was supposed to begin processing those words, especially in the situation in which you had finally spoken the one thing he’d always wanted to hear you say. 

He wanted to respond, he wanted to tell you he felt the same, he’d always felt the same. For fifteen long years he’d carried his unrequited feelings for you like a led weight upon his shoulders. They’d dragged him down a little more each day, at this point he found he was almost entirely buried under the burden of his feelings.

And then you’d gone and said that and he didn’t know how he was supposed to respond. 

The words were spinning and turning, ruminating in his brain and he forgot for those five seconds where you were and what was going on around you. He stopped trying to cut through the tape binding his wrists, stopped thinking about getting to his ankle hostler.

He stopped thinking about the crazed unsub standing just three feet away brandishing a gun at the both of you, his sick and twisted game of Truth or Dare coming to an abrupt end with the uttering of those. 

“Spence, uh...I have always loved you. I was too scared to say it before... and now things are just really too complicated to say it now. I'm sorry, but you should know.” 

It froze his blood in his veins, causing his heart to physically skip a beat. It caused it to fall completely out of a normal rhythm and erratically thump against his chest as though trying to break free and crawl across the floor to you. 

The tears in your eyes as you spoke those words told him it was true no matter how much easier it would be for him to pretend otherwise. 

Your statement caused the air to grow thicker and he felt like he was going to choke on it. The words had left your lips, wrapping around his throat and gripping him firmly with their talons. 

For five long, lingering seconds Spencer Reid was lost in his memories, looking at you across the bullpen on his twenty-fourth birthday, whispering to Gideon, “do you know she’s the only person in the world who calls me ‘Spence’?” 

He was on the jet, Gideon giving him movie tickets to see the new Harry Potter movie while Spencer tried to hide his frown of confusion from his mentor.

“You know who’s a huge Harry Potter fan?”

“Who?”

“The only person in the world who calls you ‘Spence’.”

He’d wanted to tell you that night as the two of you stood on the sidewalk outside the theatre before you’d even seen the movie that he was in love with you. He almost had told you, almost let the words just come tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

But he’d been stopped short by the sounds of heels on the concrete getting closer and then her voice cut him off before he’d even gotten out a single word.

“Sorry, sorry I’m late, I know.” Penelope Garcia tottered towards the two of you, pushing her bangs back off her face.

“It’s ok, it doesn’t start for another ten minutes.” You smiled as you embraced her. 

Spencer looked dumbly between you and Garcia, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows so high they almost hit his hairline.

“Happy birthday, boy wonder.” Garcia grinned at him.

“Uh…” He swallowed thickly. “Thanks?”

“Shall we?” You motioned towards the front door of the movie theatre and Garcia nodded, taking the lead.

You hung back a little, looking at the confusion that was still spreading across the young genius's face.

“You don’t mind, do you? Penelope loves Harry Potter almost as much as I do.” 

“Of course I don’t mind. Why would I mind?” He shook it off but was quickly pushing past you inside. 

It had been at that exact moment you’d realised that night was supposed to be a date. The look on Spencer’s face when he’d seen Penelope haunted you for years. You’d missed the signs, signs that seemed so glaringly obvious when you’d looked back on them.

But you were green then, still new at profiling and you had completely missed his overt cues. But by then it was too late to do anything about it. 

The night had been filled with a heavy tension for which Garcia had been oblivious to. And no matter how many times you tried to talk to Spencer about it afterwards, you could never quite get the words out. 

Until now. 

There had been far too many blockers in the way over the years for you to ever be able to tell him how you felt. You’d thought by this point you never would utter those words to him, after all this time it was easier to just keep them to yourself.

But then Pinkner had made you confess your biggest secret, a secret you’d never told anyone. Telling your best friend of fifteen years you’d always loved him certainly fit the bill.

You could still sense the gun pointing at you, still feel Pinkner’s wild eyes on the side of your face as you stared at your rightfully confused and hurt friend. Spencer’s lip almost immediately started to quiver the smallest amount, barely conceivable to the naked eye. His brow furrowed in a painful kind of uncertainty. 

You couldn’t tell whether he believed you or not and maybe it was for the best if he didn’t. As long as Pinkner was convinced by it, you might make it out of here alive. But if you did survive this, what would that mean for you and Spencer? Had you effectively destroyed all those years of friendship with one stupid admittance?

In that small five second window of time after your confession, you were taken back over ten years, transported to that night in Rossi’s kitchen.

You heard the footsteps approaching from behind as you leant against the granite countertop and somehow you already knew it would be him. Maybe after four years of working together, of spending so much time together, you knew his footsteps as well as your own.

You slowly turned to face him, your melancholy smile mirrored on his own lips. You saw his shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath. 

“I should have told you first.” You rolled your lip between your teeth. “Before the rest of the team, I should have told you first. I owed you that much.” 

“Y/N,” he sighed your name. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

“I owed you more than this.” You folded your arms over your chest as he got closer. 

The chatter from the team in the yard filtered in through the open window but neither of you really heard it and if you did you didn’t register it. 

“I’m happy for you.” He shrugged, stepping a little closer to you. 

“Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re my best friend.” He cautiously reached for you, his large hands wrapping around your left wrist and untucking your arm from your body. 

He held you loosely, bringing your hand into view, or more specially what was adorned on your hand. 

“Spencer?” You swallowed as tears threatened to flood your vision. 

He glanced up from the diamond on your finger to meet your gaze. 

“Yes Y/N?” He let go of your wrist and slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. 

“Tell me I’m making a mistake.” The words just fell out, crashing around Spencer like a tidal wave. 

You saw his jaw tighten, his back got a little straighter but his expression barely changed. 

“Do you think you’re making a mistake?” 

“You tell me.” You swallowed again. “Am I marrying the wrong man, Spence?” 

He felt then much like he did now. Blindsided. Frozen in fear of what your words could mean for him. Completely and utterly lost. 

Before he’d had a chance to respond to you, Emily had appeared from the yard in search of more wine and your conversation went unfinished. 

His answer would have been a simple one, yet one he never would have said out loud. Yes. Yes you were marrying the wrong man. Of course you were marrying the wrong man. 

But while you were distracted by Emily and her hunt for alcohol, he’d slipped away and the conversation never had a chance to end. 

You’d seen Emily’s interruption as divine intervention. Her showing up when she did was like a sign from the universe that you and Spencer’s time had long since passed you by. 

But realistically it was always eventually going to come to the surface. Over the years it had been buried deep, thrown to the bottom of the ocean with a cinder block tied around it. 

Slowly but surely it had risen, a few feet a year perhaps. And finally it had surfaced, all those long lost feelings emerging from the depths while a mad man held you both at gunpoint. 

Five seconds. Five simple seconds and all those years of memories begged to be seen, to be felt. But soon those quiet seconds were over and you were both brought back to reality by the hideous sound of maniacal laughter. 

“Goddamn…that’s what I’m talking about.” Pinkener chuckled wildly, revealing in the looks on both of your faces. “Those are some last words right there. But not good enough to save your life.” 

You both turned back to him as he was levelling the barrel of the gun between your eyes. 

Spencer had less than a second to make his move, to carry out his plan to perfection otherwise the last words he would ever hear from your lips were that you’d always loved him. 

He tore through the remains of his binds in a fraction of that second and in another he was able to unsheath his hidden firearm in his ankle holster, raise the weapon and shoot Pinkner dead. 

Comparatively next to the last painfully slow five seconds, this happened so fast. One minute you were staring death in the face and the next you were looking back at Spencer, duct tape hanging limply from his wrists and the smoking gun in his hands. 

As the tears finally broke free, Spencer had to keep his at bay, lock them away like he’d done so many times before. He slotted his gun away and helped you to your feet, cutting away the duct tape still binding your wrists together. 

In the moments before the BAU breached the room, you turned to him, wiping your eyes, questioning him without the use of words. Your words had done enough damage. 

He simply stared back at you, his own eyes conveying the confusion and pain your statement had caused him. 

You opened your mouth as if you might speak but anything you might have said died somewhere on your throat. 

I’m sorry. 

I shouldn’t have said that. 

Please don’t look at me that way. 

I am so, so sorry. 

He inhaled, his whole frame going rigid like he could hear the words you weren’t saying. His eyes asked you if you meant it. Your silence told him you had. 

You were torn apart by the sound of a door crashing against its hinges and suddenly Matt, Rossi and Tara descended on the room. 

You forced yourself to look away from the broken hearted, doe eyed man you’d called your best friend for almost a decade and a half. 

You snapped back into action, turning your back on Spencer while you informed the others what had happened. You could feel Spencer’s eyes on the back of your head.

He couldn’t bring himself to snap back around the way you had and he watched you attend to one of the shooting victims as though you hadn’t just blown his whole world up.

Maybe you hadn’t meant it. If you’d meant it you would still be stuck in a state of complete paralysis like he was. 

Somehow you both found yourself back outside on the street, the cool night air attempting to cleanse you both of the previous activities. As you stood by the ambulance with Rossi, arms wrapped protectively around your body, you couldn’t keep the tears from your eyes. 

Glancing back at the building you’d been held hostage in, you could feel the piece of your heart that you’d left behind in there. 

***

2005 

You seemed to float into the bullpen, your feet never touching the ground as you were some kind of angel with no wings. Spencer couldn’t help the way he stared at you, not so subtly as you entered at Gideon’s side. 

Both Gideon and Hotch had mentioned hiring a new agent to round out the team, but in Spencer’s wildest dreams he couldn’t have predicted the way that new agent would cause his heart to feel as though it had flatlined.

“Yo, pretty boy?” Morgan’s teasing tone snapped Spencer’s eyes away from where they followed you through the room.

He hadn’t registered that you and Gideon stopped in front of them, looking between him, Morgan and JJ while Spencer did very little to cover up the way he was staring at you like you were an apparition plucked straight from his dreams.

“Huh?” Spencer looked to his left where Morgan watched him curiously, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Let’s not make the new girl feel uncomfortable on her very first day.” Morgan laughed and Spencer heard JJ snicker from somewhere behind him. 

He was acutely aware Morgan was speaking more than loud enough for both Gideon and yourself to hear. 

A harsh blush suddenly leapt to his cheeks, turning him a bright shade of red. He shrunk in his chair, half wishing the item of furniture might swallow him completely. 

“I wasn’t…I wasn’t…” he mumbled, unable to form a full sentence given all the amused gazes which now lay upon him. 

“Don’t mind him,” JJ spoke up, her tone light and playful. “He doesn’t get out much.” 

Spencer somehow sunk deeper into his chair, wondering if perhaps he could just crawl under his desk and hide there instead. 

Just as he was considering it, an angelic laugh met his ears and he was frozen in place. His eyes moved back to you of their own volition and he drank in the way your lips were parted, eyes half closed as you let out that magnificent sound. 

It was the easiest, sweetest laugh he’d ever heard, a sound that he felt reaching towards him, wrapping him in its warm embrace. It reminded him of Christmas morning when his mother was lucid. It evoked memories of cosy fall evenings, sprinkled donuts, dimly lit library’s surrounded by stacks of old books. His favourite things in the whole world, that’s what your laugh conjured. 

“Everyone this is our new agent Y/N Y/L/N, please can you all make her feel welcome. Not too welcome though, ok, Reid?” Gideon shot him a somewhat nettled look, which once again sent Spencer spiralling into a pit of his own awkwardness. 

“Got it,” he finally spoke, his voice multiple octaves higher than usual. 

Morgan scoffed a laugh, clearly noticing how the young genius sounded like he was going through puberty all over again. 

Gideon nodded before taking his leave, heading up the stairs towards his office whilst leaving you with the three other agents. 

You played with your hands in discomfort, not quite knowing what to do with yourself. You’d been thrown in at the deep end, plucked straight out of the academy by Jason Gideon himself and now you’d been thrown to the lions. 

JJ pushed herself up from where she’d been leaning on an empty desk and she approached you slowly, as if you were a frightened deer who might retreat back into the woods if she startled you. 

Maybe you would. 

“It’s nice to meet you, and welcome to the team. I’m Jennifer but you can call me JJ, everyone does. I’m the Communications Liaison here.” She held out a hand for you to shake, an amicable smile on her face that reached all the way to her bright blue eyes. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” You shook her hand. 

“And these are SSA’s Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid.” She pointed over her shoulder at the two men. 

SSA Derek Morgan smiled at you, a confident kind of smile with his broad arms folded across an even bigger chest. 

“Welcome to the team, Y/L/N.” He nodded in your direction. 

“Thanks.” You replied before glancing back at Doctor Spencer Reid. 

The poor kid was sinking so low in his chair you could barely see his face over his desk. His cheeks were still flushed bright red and he raised one arm, offering you an awkward wave. 

“Hi,” he squeaked, making no attempt to sit back up. 

He was around your age despite the fact his oversized sweater vest begged to contradict that. His reputation preceded him, you’d heard all the stories of the genius being the youngest ever recruit to the BAU, even having exceptions made due to his lack of physical prowess. 

You had no idea he’d be so damn cute. 

You’d soon come to learn you had a surprising amount in common with him. And once the teasing from Morgan died down about his blatant crush on you, Spencer was able to start talking to you without his voice breaking every time he opened his mouth. 

But he had a distinct suspicion that his feelings for you wouldn’t just go away overnight. He’d known from the first time he looked at you that you were different from any other childish crush he’d had before. 

However he never would have dreamed that fifteen years later he’d still be as hung up on you as the day he met you.

***

Present Day

Rossi patted your shoulder and offered you a slightly sorrowful smile, as if apologising for what you’d been through when you both knew it wasn’t his fault. 

When he walked away, your eyes found Spencer. He was several feet away near the curb, his eyes cast down at his hand that was being wrapped in gauze by a paramedic. It felt like it was killing him to keep his eyes off of you and somehow you knew he sensed your eyes on him. 

He had his other hand in his pocket, his body leaning up against a cop car. His jaw was set from the moment your eyes landed on him like your gaze made him uncomfortable. 

You looked away from him, physically having to tear your eyes away, a split second before his own eyes flicked up in your direction. 

He’d been right the first time he’d laid eyes on you, he’d been right in thinking you were different from any other childish crush he’d had before. Because fifteen years down the line and he was still implausibly in love with you. 

But you weren’t supposed to feel the same. Not that he hadn’t pictured you confessing your feelings for him hundreds of times before but he’d never believed it to be a real possibility. 

Over the years he’d tried to move past his feelings, hoping that if he ignored them for long enough they would simply cease to exist. Or at the very least he could stop focusing on it all the time.

He’d finally gotten to a point in his life where he’d accepted the fact the two of you were never going to be together, stopped clinging so tightly to the idea of his happy ending with you. 

And now you’d gone and said those words and he didn’t know how he was supposed to begin reconciling that. 

From twenty three years old to here at thirty nine, Spencer’s whole world had revolved around you. He had no doubts you were the reason he’d never managed to settle down, maybe somewhere in his mind he’d always been secretly waiting on a life with you. 

Even with Maeve, sweet, wonderful Maeve, he knew it wasn’t the same. Even if she hadn’t met her end in the tragic way that she had he was sure it never would have worked between them because she wasn’t you. He loved Maeve, but he loved you more. 

He’d stood on the sidelines and watched as you met someone, settled down and started a life with him, not giving Spencer a second thought. If it was true that you’d always loved him, how could you have had that with someone else? 

And if it wasn’t true, how could you be so cruel? 

“You ok, Reid?” 

Spencer snapped out his daze, casting his eyes away from where they’d been watching the back of your retreating head as you walked towards one of the SUV’s with Emily and Tara.

He was still leaning up against the cop car, holding his right hand out as if the paramedic were still bandaging him. It was only now he realised the paramedic was long gone. 

He turned his hand over, inspecting the binding which was protecting the six butterfly stitches the paramedic applied to the cut on his palm. It probably hurt, somewhere in the back of his mind there was a pain receptor blinking rapidly in alert but he barely noticed it.

“Yeah,” he nodded, finally looking at Luke. “Weird day.” 

“Two guns, huh?” Luke nudged his shoulder. 

“You called it.” Spencer shrugged stiffly. 

“How long have you been wearing an ankle holster?”

“Around the time I got out of prison.”

“Right,” Luke nodded a little sadly. “Well, you saved Y/N’s life, so I’d say it was a pretty good thing you were packing a second weapon.” 

At the mention of your name Spencer’s eyes snapped back in the direction you’d been walking, expecting you to be inside the SUV already but you weren’t. You hovered by the open door of the vehicle, Tara and Emily now nowhere in sight. 

You were observing him, your previous tears still clouding your eyes and despite the distance between the two of you he could see them. 

You knew when you confessed your secret it was the worst possible thing you could have said but it was the only real thing you had to say. 

You could tell by his downturned expression, his usually vivid eyes so empty as he stared at you, that you’d hurt him beyond belief. 

What you’d said had been selfish, you knew that. Your time had come and gone. You’d had countless opportunities to tell Spencer how you felt before now, before things got this complicated. 

Perhaps it would hurt him less if you lied to him and told him you didn’t mean it. 

From inside the SUV Tara called your name and you broke eye contact with him and made yourself slide into the back seat. 

Spencer continued to stare at the spot you’d just been occupying. Just out of reach, you’d always been just out of reach. In turn he pushed himself away from the cop car and followed Luke toward the other SUV where the older man offered him the front seat. 

Spencer climbed inside, careful not to do anything with his bandaged right hand and fumbled with getting his seatbelt on while Matt put the car in drive. 

In the back of the other SUV you were preoccupied with your own hands. More specifically, the thin silver wedding band on your left hand. 

***

2010 

You brought your glass of champagne up to your lips and sipped it delicately, careful not to smudge your recently applied lipstick. Behind you, Garcia was fussing around with your hair, clipping here, brushing there, and making small little appreciative noises as she did so. 

On the couch beneath the window, Emily and JJ lounged back with their own glasses of bubbly. 

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love weddings?” Emily mused with a slightly tipsy smile on her features.

“No Em, you love the excuse to drink champagne.” Garcia tittered, pinning another section of your hair. 

“Which is served mostly at weddings. Ergo, I love weddings.” Emily grinned. 

“Can someone cut her off?” You giggled into your own glass. “I could really do without drunk bridesmaids.” 

“Good idea,” JJ agreed, snatching the glass out of Emily’s hand making the raven haired woman whine.

“Hey!” Emily made a grab for the glass but JJ held it out of reach. 

“You can drink as much as you like after the ceremony. You want to get down that aisle without tripping and making a scene.” JJ rolled her eyes, practically fighting Emily off. 

“I don’t make scenes.” Emily grumbled with a childish huff. 

“Because we don’t let you drink enough to make them.” You laughed and so did JJ and Penelope. 

There was a soft and tentative knock at the door just then and you turned over your shoulder towards the sound.

“Who is it?” Penelope spoke for you. 

“Man of honour reporting for duty.” His voice carried through the door.

“Enter at your own peril. We’re drunk and frisky.” Emily called with a loud cackle.

The door cautiously inched open and his head popped around the side of it, one eyebrow raised in concern. 

“We’ve cut her off, don’t worry.” JJ sighed, nodding her head at Emily. “I swear it's safe to come in.” 

The door opened further to allow him to enter. He limped inside, clutching his cane in one hand and leaning most of his weight on his good leg. You made eye contact with him and watched the way he swallowed a large lump in his throat. 

For a few seconds, the girls melted away and it was simply you and Spencer. His long hair had been tamed as much as he could, tucked behind his ears to keep it out of his face. He wore a black suit and crisp white button down paired with a black bowtie. He had a red rose boutonniere peeking out of his breast pocket. 

“Can we, uh…can we have the room?” Your voice cracked as you spoke but no one but you seemed to notice. 

“We should go and get dressed anyway.” Penelope agreed, nodding her head for JJ and Emily to stand. 

The other two women got to their feet and passed across the room. Before she left, Penelope gave your hand a soft squeeze in some kind of knowing way. 

Spencer hobbled aside for the three women to leave and approached you slowly. His smile was a little forlorn, not reaching his eyes which held a wealth of regret.

“You look absolutely incredible.” His voice was quiet and breathy, barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t even have my dress on yet, Spence.” You laughed a little, feeling like you could cry from the way he was looking at you if you didn’t.

Your hair and make-up was done but you only wore a pair of sweatpants and an old tank top. But Spencer was looking at you like you hung the moon, just like he always did. 

“Yet here we are,” he offered you the smallest glimpse of a smile and a soft, somewhat wistful sigh. “You’re still the most beautiful woman in the world.” 

Your eyes widened, tears desperately trying to spill out but you managed to sniff them back before they ruined your make-up. You felt your heart constrict in your chest. His words were so genuine, so sincere and for a second you forgot it wasn’t him you were marrying. 

“Spence…” you croaked, looking at him somewhat sadly.

“What? I’m not allowed to think you look beautiful on your wedding day?” He forced a laugh but it sounded nothing like it normally did. 

“Spencer I-” 

“I got you something.” He cut you off, his hand not clutching his cane diving into his inside pocket. 

Your eyebrows furrowed when he pulled out a rectangular, black velvet jewellery box. 

“What is this?” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, not taking the box from him.

“Open it and see.” He rolled his eyes, proffering it closer to you. 

You felt your hands start to tremble as you took it from his hand and hesitantly opened it. Nestled inside on a little silk cushion was a simple silver bracelet. You gently plucked it out of the box taking in the delicately small, golden snitch charm connecting the two ends of the band. 

In the middle of the bracelet were intricately etched words you recognised instantly from a conversation between Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape in The Deathly Hallows. 

“‘After all this time?’ ‘Always.'”

Your tears couldn’t be contained anymore as you looked back at him. Your heart was trying to escape your body, trying to reach for him, to hold him. You wanted to throw your arms around him and never let him go, the way you should have done so many years ago.

You didn’t need to ask him why, you already knew. When he’d found out how much loved Harry Potter he’d read all of the books in quick succession, over the years he’d accompanied you to see all the movies too. 

The Deathly Hallows had been released three years prior and he’d brought you a limited edition print of the book for your birthday. 

When you flicked through it, you’d found a post-it note on one of the pages with a little window cut out of it. Through the cut out was the same quote as was inscribed on the bracelet. 

Of course Spencer would never deface a book by highlighting it but he’d gone through great lengths for you to know this particular passage meant something to him. 

You’d asked him about it, while out for drinks with the team to celebrate your birthday, you’d asked him what it meant. 

“You know,” he simply replied. 

“Do I?” You frowned at him. 

“Fairly certain.” 

You didn’t have much time to ponder on what the sentiment behind it was as that night you’d ended up meeting Jared, your future husband. 

“I still don’t know that I understand what that means.” Your voice cracked and pitched. 

Spencer shook his head with a dry laugh, taking the bracelet from you. He leant his cane against his thigh so he could hook the band around your wrist and secure it for you. 

“If you don’t know by now, I guess it's too late.” He shrugged, his fingers lingering on your skin a moment longer than they needed to. 

“Why are you being so cryptic?” You cocked a brow at him.

“Usually when one receives a gift, the polite thing to do is say thank you.” He gripped his cane again, leaning his weight back on his non injured leg. 

Your eyes, still producing a few tears, flicked from your bracelet to him and back again in quick succession. 

“Th-thank you.” You sniffed. 

“You’re welcome. You should get dressed, it’s almost time.” 

“Spencer?” You spoke again before he even had a chance to turn around.

“Yes Y/N?” 

“You never did answer my question.”

“What question was that?” He narrowed his eyes on you. 

“The night I got engaged, I asked you if I was marrying the right man, am I?” 

A sharp breath left from between his parted lips and he wished more than anything else in the world he had the courage to tell you the truth. Secondly, he wished for any excuse to get out of answering you at all. 

He took a deep breath, and chose his words very carefully as he spoke. 

“The only answer I can give you is engraved on your bracelet.” He shrugged again.

“I don’t know what that means, Spencer!” You threw your arms up in the air in exasperation.

“The thing is,” he swallowed thickly. “You do know what it means. You know exactly what it means. I don't need to spell it out for you Y/N, because you already know. My saying it out loud isn’t going to change anything, it's only going to make me feel foolish. You need to get dressed and I need to go and start showing people to their seats. I’ll see you out there ok?” 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was turning on his heels, shakily with the use of his cane, and hobbling back towards the door. 

When he opened it, an extremely suspicious JJ, Emily and Penelope stood on the other side now donning their matching sage green bridesmaids dresses and trying but failing to cover up the fact they had been attempting to eavesdrop. 

“Subtle,” Spencer rolled his eyes as he manoeuvred between them. 

“Not as subtle as you.” Emily rolled her eyes. 

When he turned back to her she had her arms folded across her chest in mild frustration. 

JJ and Penelope were nowhere to be seen and the door to the bridal suite was now closed, indicating they had gone inside. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Don’t ruin this for her.” Emily shook her head, ignoring his question. “You’ve had five years to tell her how you feel and you blew it. She’s happy, don’t ruin this for her.” 

Spencer sucked in a breath but before he could get his words out Emily was fleeing back into the room he’d just vacated. 

He was specifically trying not to ruin this for you. If he’d wanted to ruin your wedding day he would have told you exactly what he meant by it, even though he was sure you already knew. 

After all this time? Always.

I love you. After all this time? Always.

***

Present Day

Back at Quantico Spencer focused on writing his after action report despite the fact Emily had told him it could wait. He needed something to focus on that wasn’t you and what you’d said when you’d thought you were seconds away from death. 

Usually he wrote his case reports by hand, hating to prolong any computer use but the cut on his right hand meant he couldn’t hold a pen without causing it grief. 

Typing was slower, he hadn't mastered a keyboard from lack of use, so he jabbed at keys, painfully slowly but at least it kept him distracted. 

His whole body ached from the weight of the day. It was as though your words were pressing down on him, heavy and cumbersome trying to drag him down a rabbit hole from which he may never return. 

He had to stay focused. He had to concentrate on the report even if he did plan on leaving out your grandiose confession. 

It didn’t help matters, wouldn’t aid the directors to know exactly what had transpired between those walls. No one ever needed to know of the words you’d spoken to appease Pinkner. 

Because that’s all it had been. You’d needed to say something to get his attention and it had worked. You needed something startling enough that it would buy you some time.

You didn’t mean it. You couldn’t have meant it. You’d created a distraction so the two of you could get out of there alive. 

You’d helped save his life and shatter his heart all at once. 

If he was being perfectly honest with himself it would almost be worse if you had meant it. Because if you really had loved him all along how could you have committed yourself to another man? 

It wasn’t as though Spencer wasn’t available to you back then, he was nothing but available. He didn’t date because he was holding out hope of one day telling you how he felt. Sure there was that one kiss in the pool with Lila Archer and you’d barely spoken to him for weeks after, he never did understand that. 

Were you jealous? And if you were, why didn’t you just say something? 

Apart from that one incident, Spencer never even so much as looked at another woman for several years. He was there for you whenever you needed him and in whatever capacity you needed him to be. 

After a tough case he’d welcome you into his home, he’d answer calls in the middle of the night and pick you up from bars when you had too much to drink. 

He brought you your favourite coffee nearly every morning for years. He’d gone out of his way, extremely out of his way, to find you that copy of The Deathly Hallows for your birthday. 

He’d been so sure that night as you’d unwrapped it and looked at him with tears brimming in your sparkling eyes, that was the night he would win your heart. 

“Spence, hold up a sec,” you grabbed him by the wrist as he was heading towards the bathroom. 

“What’s up? Are you having a good birthday?” 

“The best.” You nodded, clutching your book to your chest in the crowded bar. “How did you find this?” 

“I have my ways.” He shrugged. “You like it?”

“Are you kidding me? I love it.” You smiled so sweetly at him he felt like his heart might explode. 

“Then it was worth it. I’d do anything to see you smile.” 

You exhaled through your nose, rolling your lip between your teeth. You edged closer to him and he caught the scent of your perfume. You opened the book to the page you’d found the post-it note stuck to with a small frown.

“What does this mean?” You asked curiously.

“You know,” he simply replied. 

“Do I?” You frowned at him. 

“Fairly certain.” He nodded. “Can I use the bathroom now?” 

“Yeah…” he nodded but your brows furrowed a little. 

“You sure? You look like you have something on your mind?” 

“I just want to thank you.”

“You have.” He chuckled but the seriousness of your expression curbed him. “Seriously, what’s up?” 

“I just…” you shook your head, suddenly moving even closer to him before you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thank you.” 

Spencer was so gobsmacked by what had happened, even if it had just been a gentle peck it had rendered him breathless. 

He stared at you in hazy confusion, half wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing. 

You smiled somewhat bashfully at him, taking a few steps backwards. 

“You can go now.” You shrugged. 

“Go? Go where?” He frowned, feeling as though his brain had been replaced by a bowl of jelly. 

“The bathroom?” 

“Oh.” He nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be right back.” 

He walked past you in daze, almost convinced that couldn’t have happened. But if that were true, why were his lips tingling?

Spencer looked away from the computer screen and rubbed his eyes with his palms roughly, trying to dispel any old memories which were hell bent on distracting him. 

He’d spent a long time in the bathroom that night, staring at his reflection and the tiny smudge of your lipstick left behind on his lips. 

He practised to an audience of one in the mirror what he was going to say to you, how exactly he would word the fact he’d been in love with you for two years. 

But he’d taken too long and by the time he’d rejoined the team you were across the room making out with the man who would soon be introduced to him and the other BAU members as Jared Haines. 

The man you would later marry. 

Once he was done violently rubbing his eyes he pushed his chair back from his desk. Slowly he got to his feet and glanced around. It was only then he realised he was alone. 

The bullpen was a ghost town and he was the sheriff. 

He had no recollection of anyone leaving, of saying goodbye or even looking up from the computer. Yet, he was the only one here. 

It had been such a long day. 

He shut down the computer and grabbed up his satchel before slinging it over his shoulder. He needed to at least try and get some rest even though he was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Tomorrow the team had been granted the day off for Rossi and Krystall’s wedding. But at that moment Spencer wasn’t even sure if he could bring himself to attend. 

As he forced his tired and aching limbs towards the elevators he checked his phone and saw a text message waiting to be read, time stamped several hours ago. 

He felt his chest constrict as he read it over in his head. He contemplated replying but he honestly didn’t have the energy. 

He slumped into the waiting elevator, reading it over once more before he put his phone away. With everything that had happened in the last few hours, she’d been the furthest thing from his mind. 

The guilt swam through his veins as he imagined what all of this could mean for her. And her simple message on his phone played on his tired mind all night. 

📱Max Brenner: Can’t wait for tomorrow, missed you xx

***

2018

“Hey, uh…is everything ok with you?” 

The light pooling through the crack in the blinds, casting its rays on the wooden table top had garnered your unwavering attention for the last five minutes. You were twirling your wedding band around your finger in absent-mindedness. 

“Hmm?” You tore your eyes away from the table and looked up at Spencer who was standing over you.

You’d found yourself in the small town of Guymon, Oklahoma, investigating a series of home invasion burglaries and murders with an interesting signature of the victims having their mouths cut at the corners. 

To make matters stranger their surviving victim, a seven year old boy, was convinced he saw a clown kill his dad. 

It was certainly a strange one. After nearly thirteen years with the BAU you’d thought you’d seen it all. But once again you were proven wrong. 

You glanced over Spencer’s shoulder at the board with all the details of the murder victims and a preliminary geographical profile Spencer had been working on. Your eyes lingered on the childish drawing of the clown which their surviving victim had sketched for them.

Spencer followed your gaze to the picture before looking back at you with a slightly wry smile. 

“You know there’s a word, even though it’s not recognised by any dictionary or psychology manual, for the excessive fears of clowns: coulrophobia.” 

You looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“I am not scared of clowns.” You tutted. 

“Something’s bothering you, you’ve been unusually quiet. I think something has been bothering you for a while.” He slid into the seat next to you.

The two of you were alone at the station while the rest of the team were following other leads. You and Spencer hadn’t really spent any time alone for a while, probably not since before his arrest in Mexico. You didn’t speak, so he continued.

“I noticed it when you came to see me in prison. Well that’s to say, I registered it but I didn’t realise I noticed it until much later on. You’ve been tense for a while now. I thought maybe it was because of my arrest or all the changes in the team, but I think it's more than that now.” He leant on the table closer to you, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

“Are you profiling me?” You spat a little harsher than you’d meant to. 

“I don’t know that it’s strictly classed as profiling when I know you so well.” 

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do. And clearly I don’t know you at all because I still even now can’t believe you managed to go to Mexico and get arrested without me having a clue what was going on.” You shoved your chair back, causing it to scrape across the wooden floor. 

“That’s what this is about?” Spencer stood up again moments after you did. “You’re still angry at me?” 

“I was never angry at you.” You shook your head. “We’re in the middle of a case, now is not the time.” 

“Make time.” He spat. “If I recall correctly I’m the one who spent three months in prison, not you. You don’t get to be angry because you couldn’t profile me and figure out what was going on.” 

“You think this is about my profiling skills?” You scoffed. 

“Isn’t it?” He stepped closer to you, a heavy frown on his features. 

“I’m not doing this now, Spencer.” You shook your head. 

“Just answer me! Why are you so angry at me? You’ve been hostile towards me since I was released and I don’t get it. We’re best friends, you should be able to talk to me.” 

“We’re not though, are we?” You shrugged limply. “Maybe once we were but we’re just not that close anymore, Spencer.”

“And who’s fault is that?” He bit back. “I always try to make plans but you always cancel on me.” 

“I have a life, Spencer! One that doesn’t revolve around you.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Yet when we go out for drinks as a team or if JJ or Emily or literally anyone who isn’t me asks you out, you never cancel. What have I done to upset you so much?” 

“Oh my gosh, not everything is about you, Spencer!” You hissed. “Maybe if you actually attempted to meet someone instead of following me around like a goddamn puppy all the time you’d understand. I have a family, Spencer. Jeez, stop being so codependent!”

You saw the way his whole body took the brunt of your harsh words. He stumbled a little on his feet, gasping for the breath you had caused to leave his lungs. His previously anger filled eyes turned sad, and he dragged his lip between his teeth.

“Wow.” He shook his head despondently. “Don’t hold back Y/N, say what you really mean.” 

“That, uh…that came out slightly crueller than I meant it to.” You retreated, trying to give Spencer your best apologetic look. 

“You think I don’t want what you have? You think I’m deliberately single? Surprisingly there isn’t a queue of women out the door wanting to date a neurotic, socially awkward, ex drug addict who spent three months in prison for suspicion of murder!” He raised his voice, you were glad the door was closed. 

Through the window of the office you noticed a few looks being sent your way by Guymon police officers who didn’t need to be profilers to read yours and Spencer’s body language. 

“Spencer, now really isn’t the time. We’re being watched.” 

“I don’t care!” He growled. “You started this. Clearly you have some grievances to air so let’s just get all out in the open, shall we?” 

“I’m done with this conversation.” You rolled your eyes, heading past him towards the door. “I’d ask if you want a coffee but I think you’ve had enough caffeine.” 

You reached for the door handle but Spencer caught your wrist in his hand, tugging you back to face him somewhat roughly. 

“Ouch.” You grumbled, pulling your arm free of him. 

“That didn’t hurt.” He rolled his eyes. 

And then he noticed the way your whole body had deflated. The way your eyes seemed to mist over as you rubbed your wrist through your shirt. He didn’t miss the brief hint of fear that washed across your face. 

“Please don’t do that again.” You swallowed, eyes cast towards the floor, your voice trembling. 

He’d seen it before, hundreds if not thousands of times in this line of work. Anyone else, anyone who wasn’t an FBI agent might have missed it. But he didn’t. 

“Y/N?” He whispered, taking a half step towards you. “What did you do to your arm?”

“N-nothing.” You shook your head, still looking at the floor. 

When Spencer gently wrapped his hand around your wrist again, he saw you flinch. But you let him roll the sleeve of your blouse up just enough to reveal the large angry, red mark on your forearm and wrist. 

“Is that…a burn?” He swallowed, the air leaving his lungs. 

Your skin was blanched and blistering. It looked incredibly painful and it was certainly fresh, it couldn’t have been caused more than a day or so ago. 

“I…it was dumb. I spilled hot oil while I was cooking. You know how clumsy I am.” 

That statement in itself caused confusion. He had never known you to be clumsy. 

“Y/N?” He spoke so softly it finally forced you to meet his gaze. “Did Jared do this to you?” 

“What? How can you even ask me that?” You were quick to shake your head, pulling your arm free of his hold and rolling back down your sleeve.

“That wasn’t an answer.” Spencer frowned. “You’re deflecting.” 

“I didn’t think a dumb question warranted an answer.” 

“You’re doing it again. Did he hurt you?” 

“Stop it, Spencer. Just stop it, ok?” You growled at him. “Stop it.” 

“Y/N if he hurt you I can…” he trailed off when the door opened and Emily and Luke strolled in with coffees and slightly dejected smiles on their faces. 

“Well that was a waste of time.” Luke grumbled, looking between you and Spencer and sensing the thick tension. “Uh…what’s going on?”

“You need to go to the hospital.” Spencer ignored them, focusing only on you. 

“I’m fine.” You shot him a warning look, telling him to drop it. 

“You could get an infection. You need to have that looked at.”

“Have what looked at?” Emily frowned at the two of you.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” You smiled at your boss. 

“She is not fine.” Spencer hissed. “She’s got a burn on her arm, she needs to have it checked out before she develops an infection or gangrene or loses her arm.” 

“Jeez, you are over dramatic.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine, seriously.” 

“Can I see?” Emily asked you softly, her eyes full of concern for you. 

You huffed out a breath and rolled up your sleeve.

“It’s not that bad.” You shrugged. 

“Yikes,” Luke grimaced. “I’m no doctor but I think Reid might be right, you need a hospital.” 

“Goddamnit.” You groaned. “Fine.” 

“Reid, can you take her?” Emily asked him but you were shaking your head.

“No, I don’t want to go with him. Luke?” 

“Sure thing.” Luke shrugged, knowing now wasn’t the time to get into why you didn’t want your so-called best friend taking you to the hospital. 

Luke motioned you towards the door and you followed him somewhat hesitantly. As you stepped out of the office you heard Emily’s confused voice asking Spencer, “what the hell is going on with you two recently?” 

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @dirtytissuebox @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 15

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: Please scream at me!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

After an early morning phone call, your mother insists on coming to town for lunch. You couldn't bear to tell her everything over the phone and frankly, you don't know how much you should tell her. You remember in high school when you were sent home after Kelly Harris dumped mud in your lap, your mother was more irritated to have you home than empathetic. 

You watch through the peephole before you sneak out. You haven't slept but you can't be sure Colin hasn't returned. There's enough noise in the building that it's hard to discern who's coming or going. 

When you do emerge, you flit quickly to the first floor and dip out, looking over your shoulder for either Colin or his vengeful girlfriend. You get through the lobby without trouble but you're not in the clear. Surely the day holds nothing but trouble, regardless of where it comes from.

You check the time as you wait for the cab. You refer to the text your mother sent before she set out and give the driver the name of the restaurant. You've never been there before and you're certain it's well out of your price range. Another debt for the tally.

This is the last thing you ever wanted. It makes all this drama seem all the more ridiculous. You’re a grown woman and this is what you’ve come to. Back to square one.

You approach the restaurant doors and enter with a sheepish grin. You don’t know that you own anything that wouldn’t be underdressed for this bougie brunch locale. Once more, you look at your phone. Crap, she’s there first. That means you're late even if you agreed on nine.

The hostess shows you to the table where your mother waits. She has her compact out as she touches up her mauve lipstick. She doesn’t acknowledge you or the hostess as you sit. She snaps shut the mirror and sips from her stemmed glass of orange juice.

“About time,” she drawls, “oh, and nice to hear from you after all these months.”

Her eyes finally deign to land on you. You gulp. You should’ve taken the chance of talking to your father but ultimately you know it’s not up to him.

“You’ve been so busy with Geri’s wedding–”

“Don’t try to guilt me for your neglect,” she warns, “you should be happy for your sister. Her fiance is a charming man. You’ve met Colton, haven’t you?”

“Once or twice,” you grumble. Family get togethers weren’t exactly your favourite memories. “I’ve been waiting on my invite–”

“Invite? You’re a bridesmaid. Geri sent out that email months ago. Is this why you weren’t at the fitting?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t get an email.”

“You’re wrong. Certainly, you must be. You and the rest of the girls are bridesmaids. You have to be. And it might be good for you to be involved in a wedding at least once,” she tuts. You don’t miss the jibe. Yeah, not like you have much hope of walking down the aisle.

“I’ll… I’ll call Geri and clear things up,” you say, “how are the others?”

“Well, Maeve is graduating this year. Always exciting. She’s thinking of joining Audrey at her alma mater. And Livia is somewhere in Spain again.”

“Ah, yeah, she sent me some pictures,” you say.

“And you? What are you up to?” She challenges. She’s not genuinely curious.

“Well,” you take a breath, pausing as a server comes to ask what you’d like to drink. You get the same as your mother and peruse the menu.

“Well…” your mother prompts.

“Yeah, um, I…” you shake your head, you can’t even look at her, “I am on leave from work so… not much.”

“Leave? What does that mean?” She hisses.

You feel your eyes tinge. You look at her. Why is she so different to you? Your other sisters can spill all their worries and whims but you, it’s always judgment. You can never do anything right.

“Uh, I thought maybe it might be a good time to–”

“Ah, pardon,” you’re interrupted before you can sputter out the revelation of another failure. You cringe as you recognise Jonathan’s silky lilt. Why? How? Do you even dare questioning fate anymore? “I just, I had to say hello.”

You force a smile and look at him, trying not to falter in front of your mother’s all-seeing gaze. She sits up, and lets out a hum of surprise as she sees Johnathan. Her lashes give a telling flick.

“Hello?” She utters quizzically.

“This must be one of your sisters,” he says as he runs his hand up the sleek lapel of his blue jacket, “very pleased to finally meet you.”

“Sister? Oh, do not flatter me. I am her mother, Eugenia,” she introduces herself with a smug smirk, “and how do you know each other?”

“Uh, oh,” you stutter and send Jonathan a desperate look. Do you tell her you’re his disgraced former employee? Or maybe just business acquaintance. She’s going to know eventually, that’s why you’re here. “Jonathan is–”

“Jonathan Pine,” he introduces himself, “honoured to finally meet you.” He looks at you, arching a brow before turning his attention back to his mother, “you both must be so excited for your elder daughter’s upcoming nuptials?”

“British?” She intones with intrigue.

“You’ve caught me out,” he grins, “your daughter’s been rather helpful in getting me acquainted with this country. Very lovely…” he peeks at you again, “hardly as lovely as her. You’ve raised a rather endearing daughter.”

“You…” she blinks in confusion, sending you another flabbergasted peek, “you and my daughter…” she lets the suggestion hang. Jonathan does too as he gives you an option; come clean or take the bait.

“I was waiting to introduce you at the wedding,” you blurt out, “I… it’s new.” You say, each word jarring as the lies piece themselves together on your tongue, “and I thought,” you look at Jonathan pointedly, “he was out of town.”

“Business trip was canceled, rescheduled to a business breakfast,” he slithers, “I’m meeting Gerry soon,” he checks his watch, “but I will be sure to tell the hostess to put your bill with mine.”

“Oh–” you squeak.

“Oh my,” your mother trills, “you are too kind. That is…” she gapes at you openly, “you… you’re with my daughter. Her?”

He chuckles lightly, “why wouldn’t I be with such a beautiful woman?”

“I didn’t mean– I don’t– I’m very surprised,” she exclaims shrilly, “she never mentioned, but then again, she’s always been so private. So shy. And you seem like such a lovely man.”

“I like to think so, but please, she is not the lucky one,” he preens and steps towards you. He places his hand on your shoulder and bends, grazing his lips across your cheek, “go with it,” he whispers. 

You turn your head just as his lips aim for yours. He kisses you and the air leaves the room. Your chest ties tight and your entire body tingles. Oh, wow. You’re too swept up in the sensation of his unexpected kiss that you can’t remember why you were so off-kilter a moment ago.

“Now let me not interrupt further. A mother-daughter reunion,” he puts his hand to his chest, “how sweet.”

He backs away and dips his chin. He turns on his heel and crosses the restaurant as you stare after him. The server approaches and sets your drink in front of you. You drink it in the silence of your mother’s disbelief.

“Well, you’ve done finely,” she says in a stunted cadence, “I… he’s so handsome. And tall. And blond!”

“Mom,” you plead as you nearly choke on the orange juice.

“Well. Even you must realise he’s very… dashing as they’d say in his home country,” she flutters her lashes dreamily, “oh, yes, you must bring him to the wedding. He’ll look wonderful in the photos.”

You wet your lips with your tongue and nod. You look down at the table, still buzzing as your lips warm up. You can’t stop thinking about that kiss. It nips away at the anger that kept you up all night, but hardly solves your anxiety.

You can’t tell your mother you expect to be evicted in the next month or that you lost your job. So what now? How do you untangle the knot that only grows bigger and bigger?

💗

For once, your time with your mom is less than torturous. She keeps her barbs dull enough to leave you only bruised. Her mood is a touch above neutral, which for you, is an accomplishment. You’re content but not entirely at ease. You have a lot to figure out.

You bid her goodbye just outside the patio seating and wave to her as she unlocks her luxury car. You watch until you see her get in and let out a sigh. Shit. Not only do you have Jonathan to worry about, but you don’t expect Colin to be AWOL much longer.

So what do you do? Go home and face the music or call Jonathan and try not to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. It was a nice favour of him to pretend but you don’t want to assume anything. High hopes and stupid girlish fantasies got you into all this.

As you walk along the curb, a short toot draws you to a stop. You turn as the whir of a car window steals your attention and you face the familiar car. Jonathan leans over the passenger seat to see you.

“You’re not going to run away again, are you?” He asks.

You twist your heel into the pavement and bend down. You furrow your brows as that big question needles between them. You can’t lie anymore, you can’t just wait for the truth to come out, you just have to ask.

“How did you know I was here?”

His brows lift and his eyes roll to the side. He gives a guilty grin, “I hope you don’t… misinterpret it but I… staked out your building.”

“What?” You puff out.

“Yes, I know, it sounds very bad. And I won’t claim it was entirely sane but I wanted to see the police take him away after I filed the report. To be sure you were safe and then… I sat stuck in my own head. Wanting to run up those stairs and knock on your door but also terrified you wouldn’t answer,” he shrugs, “and I followed you because I worried you might run into him, but that’s only half the reason…”

You swallow and step closer, “Jonathan, what are you doing?”

“Being crazy,” he lowers his eyes bashfully, “I know, you don’t need two madmen after you.”

You shake your head and reach for the handle. You open the door and get in. He sits back, watching you as you move your purse into your lap. You stare at the dashboard.

“What is going on?” You turn your head and look into his beautiful blue eyes, “what is this?”

“I don’t…” he begins.

“You’re my boss.”

“I was.”

“I never should’ve dragged you into this–”

“I’m so happy you did,” he murmurs.

“Jonathan, please,” you beg, “it’s not right–”

“You quit,” he insists, “so what isn’t right?”

You pout and sit back, turning straight and looking up at the upholstered ceiling of the car. You don’t know what to say. No, you don’t know how to say it. Except…

“I’m stupid.”

“What?” He scoffs.

“I’m stupid because… I’m scared and lost. And I can’t make you follow me through that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Feelings don’t just go, they just get complicated,” you explain, parsing through the stirring in your gut, “I hate Colin, I’m scared to hell of him, but I still… feel some of those things I felt.”

“Oh, but darling,” he reaches over and rests his hand above your shoulder, “I know feelings don’t just go. Mine certainly won’t.”

“Feelings? For me? Are you sure it’s not pity?”

“I only pity myself for how deeply I’ve fallen,” he breathes as you sense him leaning in, “the first day I saw you, I knew. I’ve never been much of a romantic but I have to confess something.”

“What?” You shy away, sensing how close he is.

“I knew how to use the coffee machine,” he admits, “I just needed an excuse.”

“You… did?” You look at him. He’s so much closer than you thought.

“Oh yes, if you hadn’t helped with the machine, I would’ve failed miserably in front of you at making copies. And if that didn’t work, well, I suppose I’d just have to make a mistake in my numbers,” he purrs, “you would’ve helped me, wouldn’t you?”

You quiver out a breath. You want to collapse into him, you want to let him make you forget everything but him, and yet, you’re so afraid. You’re afraid to believe that this could ever be real for you.

He doesn’t let your fear win. His lips are on yours again and that’s all you need. Nothing is left but that moment, the feeling of his mouth on yours, how his hand comes up to frame your jaw and cradle your cheek, his other creeping behind your head as he clings to you desperately. You can’t help by latching onto his collar, diving into his need.

You don’t stop until you're dizzy and breathless. He pulls back, hovering before you, thumb tracing your cheek bone as his other hand tickles your neck. His eyes search you, admire you, you’ve never been looked at like that.

“May I drive you home?” He asks softly, nuzzling your nose with his.

[deserteye]

CHAPTER ONE ;; Return to the Falls

DIPPER'S P.O.V.

"It's only been six years since you've been to Gravity Falls, it's fine-!"

"Dip, you're mumbling to yourself again."

Mabel commented, lightly pushing my shoulder.

"Oh, shit- Sorry,"

I laugh nervously, rubbing my wrists.

"You're anxious over nothing Dipping Sauce, it's just the old gang! We saved the world together, it'll be fine."

She reassured. We were about maybe 6 minutes from the stop in Gravity Falls, and it'd been six years since Weirdmageddon. We just graduated Highschool and decided to start our first summer out of school back at Gravity Falls. Mabel kept in contact with Grenda and Candy, and I had Wendy's phone number, but I was always too scared to start a conversation. Mabel says I need to just 'talk to her like a normal person' the same way I did in person, but it's, different, I guess.

"Dipper! It's the sign!"

Mabel jumped in her seat and pointed at the old 'Gravity Falls' sign. I smiled and tried relaxing. While going to high school, I got recommended to a counselor for my apparent social anxiety, which I had no idea I had until someone brought the idea to mind. I've found a few coping mechanisms for my anxiety, and currently, none of them were working for this anxiety.

"Last stop, Gravity Falls."

The bus driver called, and Mabel leaped from her seat, grabbed her suitcase and backpack, and ran out the door, Waddle following close behind her. I picked up my bag and suitcase as well, following her close behind with nervousness running down my spine.

I walked out of the bus to see Mabel group hugging Grenda and Mabel, and being greeted by Grunkle Ford and Stan, Soos, and Wendy.

"Hey, dude,"

Wendy called, grabbing her hat off my head and putting my old pine tree hat back on my hat, pushing the brim of it which pulled a laugh from me.

"Hey, Wendy."

I smiled and blushed awkwardly, putting my hands in my pockets.

"Dude, you hit a huge growth spurt."

She laughed, and Soos stood next to me for comparison, I was almost as tall as him.

"Dude, you're almost as tall as me!"

He commented, smiling and I laughed in response.

~TIMESKIP~

After our little meeting, we decided to walk back to the shack, just to view the changes in town, and see old friends. While walking, there was a new face spotted leaving a grocery store, waving bye to the owner. Around Y/H (Your Height), and S/C (Your Skin Color), they wore a C/C (Color of Choice) sweater and jeans, with a ruby pendant.

"Woahh, who's that cutie?!"

Mabel called out, guess they caught both our eyes. Figures. I discovered I was probably bi in high school, Mabel of course, being omnisexual, was more than supportive, which didn't really surprise me since she cut my hair and helped me bind my chest whenever I found out I was trans. She had way more luck with guys and gals, however.

"Oh, yeah, that's Y/N Sphinx. They don't come into town much."

Wendy explained, putting her hands in her pockets.

"Yeah, they're some kinda hermit, back when I lived here I only saw them out like, once."

Grunkle Stan added, humming suspiciously.

"So, do they not have any friends?"

Mabel hummed sadly.

"No, we have even tried befriending them, and they do not seem interested."

Candy commented, and I noticed Mabel get a sparkle in her eye.

"Mabel." I said sternly,

"Common Dipper! They need a friend!"

She cried.

"Can we at least go put out stuff in the shack-?!"

I plead before she ran off saying "Nope!" in response, and I chased after her, crying out to her.

YOUR P.O.V.

"Finally done with groceries.."

I sighed, thinking to myself, before looking over my grocery list quickly and humming, putting it in my jean pocket, and I continued walking. I was never a fan of socializing or being out in the town, nothing against the townsfolk. Lazy Susan was a sweetheart, and funny enough Tyler Cutebiker, now Mayor Tyler Cutebiker, and I got along pretty well, I just always kinda got drained from talking to almost anyone besides forest creatures.

"Hey, hey, heyyy!"

I heard someone call out to me and I turned around, stopping in my tracks and looking at the brunette girl who approached me, wearing a pink sweater, and a very similar boy following behind her, having to lean down and take a breath.

"Um- Hi- Can I help you-?"

I asked nervously.

"Hi! I'm Mabel, Mabel Pines, and this is my brother! Dipper!"

Mabel responded, introducing the two of them. She put her hand on her brother's back, patting it while he struggled to breathe. I smiled nervously, laughing lightly at Dipper's struggle for breathing.

I could instantly tell their dynamic, Mabel is the heart and Dipper is the brain, Mabel probably drags them into chaos all the time. I really gotta write that dynamic sometime..

"Hi, I'm so sorry about my sister,"

Dipper apologized, standing up to his full height, he's much taller than I thought- He coughed nervously, putting his hands in his pockets and avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, you're alright- You said 'Pines' right-? Are you related to the Mystery Shack guy?"

I asked, being polite.

"Yeah! He's our Great Uncle Stan!"

Mabel smiled, placing her hands on her hips.

"Oh, cool-! So, can I help you with anything-?"

I smiled nervously, not sure what to do.

"Uhh nope! I just wanted to say hi and compliment your sweater!"

Mabel added, having a bit of a jump in her step.

"Oh, I see- Thank you, my sister made it for me."

I laughed awkwardly, holding my grocery bags in both hands in front of me. We stood in awkward silence for a moment, clearing affecting Dipper and I more than Mabel, before I broke it.

"Well, thank you-! It's been a pleasure but I should be off, uh bye-!"

I stammered quickly before walking off around the corner. Once I got around the corner I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

The twins stood there, Mabel and Dipper looking at each other in confusion about the sudden hurry to leave.

[A/N: bit of an extra long chapter since it's a bit late! ^^']

· · ─────── ·⃤ ─────── · ·

Next Chapter | CHAPTER TWO ;; That Old Statue

Last Chapter | PROLOGUE ;; An Axolotl's Assignment

[plasticfangtastic]

A Garden Without Impurity

A Homelander x GN Reader fic one-shot

A/N: Should be working on my other fics but i needed to get this out me system, inspired by a conversation I had in this site and watching the apothecary diaries, not an expert on chinese harem systems but i based this sort of on the Qin Dynasty system bcuz it was like the simpliest, like those emperors got around a lot… this is more drabble than fic-fic but i hope y’all enjoy.

Tags: light smut, 3-some, bilander, dark topics, not proofread I die here, non-canon complaint/canon-divergent, takes place in who knows, traditional polygamy, no dialogue here btw, Homelander being himself, light gore.

Word Count: 5K 

Synopsis: You’re a member of Homelander harem, this is but a documentation of that.

Homelander was always a lonely man perpetually hunting after love, for anybody who could give him attention, who would want him. He clung easily to lovers, too young at first to notice how easily he could be tricked into becoming nothing but a trophy fuck, too inmature to notice how his behaviour frightened them in the long run, and the more and more he was hurt the worse he became, all he’d learned was how to hide his anguish– turning him dangerously bitter.

Lovers came easy but just as easily they left– either scared straight by an army of lawyers, handsomely compensated or increasingly more often in pine boxes… crisis management meetings became so commonplace they began to be run on emails. 

 He was a man desperate for love– so much love to give but nobody could ever give him an ounce of what he needed, an ounce of what he gave, he was hungry for intimate devotion and adoration, the public could only give him bites sizes but it was fading and quick, and his mind steadily warping from this unfulfilled primal need.

Lovers couldn’t handle how pushy he became, how possessive and controlling he could become, how he wished to monopolize everything– so it was a problem, his sickly nature only wisthand by those contractually obligated to tolerate him, Maeve who had been so perfect until the downstairs neighbors logged less and less noise complaints as their passion cool and soured and Madelyn whose allure came in how untouchable she was, how forbidden she was, how much of a special occasion she had to be, and well rumors circulated involving Mr. Edgar but nobody ever dared to discuss it much.

Porn seem to alleviate some issues but the poor team in-charge of monitoring his online usage had filed formal complaint about having to be subjected to so much ‘stepmom porn’ and increasingly bizarre fetishes, whether he watched them to get off or not was unknown but once he switched the porn to browsing  r/watchpeopledie– a meeting had to be made and this time it was in person.

It was hard to pin-point the exact moment a suit suggested this solution– it was merely a joke but no matter how thick these walls were it would never be missed by Homelander, who indulge them.

And the project began to take place, with the end goal to provide him with company, and a controlled environment for Vought overseeing… a facility where the damage would be limited to seven floors and 30 large and luxurious condos.

Legally this building was just one of the many owned by Vought– like many other megacorps it was no surprise Vought dab in real estate, owning a couple buildings around the city to provide employee accommodation much like their Silicon Valley competition. After selecting the small building that once simply served as their own service apartments to accommodate shareholders, the project began to take place.

Homelander found it amusing, interested as to what things were going… surprised about how much he was looking forward to this, much to his chagrin– Homelander was very much a man and at the thought of being supplied with sex on tap he was quite happy to play along giving it a fair-go for a few weeks then forget about it after the novelty faded.

The first iteration was an utter failure, simply nothing but a duped “Playboy” Mansion, women who were paid to seduce him and become available whenever he desired– they were boring,  they weren’t there for him, they were there for the paycheck and presents, for the free rent and the possibility of becoming his favorite perhaps.

It was dull.

Painfully dull, nothing different from what he was doing, only it was kept behind closely guarded doors and managed by the company that micromanaged everything else in his life.

Dull Lovers who barely pretended to care, who rolled their eyes when he wanted to talk about his interest, who looked at their phones during the good scenes of his favorite films, who signed when he wished to be held, who gave no enthusiastic response at anything but Versace and Jimmy Choo’s.

He felt the ever growing emptiness spread further like a cancerous mass. 

As he sat alone sinking on his couch flipping channels in the dark and his eyes finally grew heavy for the night– his fingers stopped in some show about a man trying to balance having four wives, the scenario intrigued him… a man married to several women who seemed enamored with him despite all the drama in the background… These women on his screen weren’t like the ones provided… they weren’t his… They didn’t love him nor wanted to devote themselves to him, they were just high paid prostitutes– even the women at the Playboy Mansion he had met seemed to have a better relationship to the old creep than his own had to him– he wasn’t special or interesting to them.

 It was transactional and the affection unconvincing, unlike this man’s wives who seemed to care about him, who didn’t look forward to meeting other men or keep in touch with old John’s and sold their feet pics online to just any guy.

Vought or the public would never allow him to have a dozen wives, he wasn’t even a Mormon, officially he was an Evangelical just in name not in practice so he couldn’t simply adopt the church's views nor was he interested in even more rigid rules… I mean he did enjoy a cup of coffee every once in a blue moon and he certainly had a spicy tongue.

It took a lot of trial and error and plenty of lawyers too.

But a single joke turned into this…

You had been there for quite a long time, you seen plenty of pretty faces come and go, most left because they disliked the system in place– had they simply bothered to glance the wikipedia article on Chinese harem practices before signing the dotted line their grievances would have been lessened… altho calling yourself a polygamist might not even been an applicable label– after all his rules made it difficult to do so.

 You had simply been a low-level intern when Homelander first laid eyes on you all those years ago.

He watched you for a long time and you watched him with the same intensity, he was a pretty thing, he had a quirky laugh that veer into cackle territory, his hands were as soft as the rest of him and above all you could tell pretty early on that there was a hunger inside him unmatched by anything else.

No lover before had ever made you feel so wanted, he made you feel as if he was born for you, no lover ever devoured you with a single look… it was desperate.

When have you ever felt this desire before? You asked yourself the more intense this became.

You never experience the titillation and the fear that his hunger inspired in you, the way he touched and explored every inch of your skin inside that broom closet made you fear for your life, as if he would feast on you and gnaw at your bones like a dog with a fresh treat, that one spicy rendezvous after office hours quickly became a regular occurrence and he never had enough.

Neither did you.

His gentleness hid praise worthy self-control, he molded his performance after what made you feel best but you would soon learn it was performance– you were puddy in his hands as he trapped you with this pleasure.

To be yearned for was different, he wanted all your free time to be for him, to ignore all the pretty faces and nameless ass that crossed your sight and devote yourself to him, he was honest about wanting you, about wanting you to love him just as much as he could love you.

Made worse by the fact that you had no qualms with the worst of his personality your fights and arguments as unhealthy as anybody else but always over petty things, never about the nights he soaked the carpet with some miscreant chunky remains, after all you had to be a bit loopy and unhinge to look at him as if he was the only source of light in the cave that was your life.

It was a long courtship before he told you about ‘The Gardens’. At first you simply thought it was another luxury building stuck in Manhattan but behind the doorman and reception clerk was a building only inhabited by lovers.

It wasn’t easy to digest– but floor to ceiling windows, private drivers and Hermes boxes demonstrate to your ego that you might have a price… The 6 figure allowance certainly made your stomach drop as you accepted new found facts about yourself… this was not counting any extra presents– after all your job would be to stay pretty and interesting for him.

You certainly had your suspicions but you had been quite enamored with the Supe, unable to look away from those cornflower blues and the sad expression painting his face as he began to suspect your rejection, the palpable anguish he was trying so hard to contain. Accepting simply to do a few excessive sessions of retail therapy on his dime to recover from the shock, coming in thinking he will grow bored of you soon enough and you could commence the healing process afterwards.

But you never left ‘The Gardens’, the people who ran the building would refer to you as the Noble Consort with the Empress or Imperial Noble Consort reserved for whoever Homelander was dating for the papers (altho you would have given the title of Stillwell for the longest time), to your disbelief you found enjoyment in this arrangement, your were free to pursue whatever you wanted for money was now not a problem– all those hobbies you had abandoned, halted and wished to explore were now back on the table, a new career change or education now a possibility, even pursuing a lifelong passion or dream was available, as long as you kept pretty and keep his favor.

There were other rules of course… Nobody besides Homelander could be in your life. Sex-work was out of the question once somebody took residency in one of the handful of luxury condos. Not involving oneself romantically with any of the other concubines or anybody was also a major rule. He demanded a vow of secrecy as well obviously–  telling anybody about the arrangement specially online or the media, and you would have a head on your front door… you would have prefered a finger, a tooth or a kidney like the others on your floor but he left the brainless severed head on yours.

You were certain that Vought kept a dystopian level of watch over your digital footprint while you no longer worked with Vought and did your thing… you heard the rumor of a shadow department whose whole job was to watch this place– it wasn’t really out of the realm of possibility after all Homelander was worth billions to them… and if not Homelander was there watching somehow.

Which is how you end up with having to call somebody to pick up and puzzle the old concubine back together.

He was The Emperor and thus you had to act like a noble, anybody caught breaking his rules would be in more than a little trouble– Homelander was quite cruel once a lover lost his fancy.

 But not as cruel as the other residents when they sensed somebody trying to plant the seeds of discourse, threats to the system were ever present whenever he brought a new concubine, those who survived the longer kept the peace. 

A mixture of jealousy and self-preservation feed the cruelty… after all these years you liked your comfortable life and so did the others– those with more expensive taste to your own, those whose families were partially supported by Homelander (if he was aware or not was not yours or his problem) those who loved him and didn’t wish to part, and those who needed his support to make sure even if he grew bored with them they had a back-up to their back-up, none who would risk losing it all just because some new lover wanted him all for himself– they had no grace about it and would soon realize that tribalistic nature of humans… unless somebody whispered sweetly in John’s ear and prevented the carnage.

Unsure as to why anybody would want to monopolize him as if this entire building wasn’t a red flag about how pointless that was, you discussed with the others.

He was more than an armful, he was too much even for you who obsessed so easily with him, who demanded his attention and affection but ultimately unable to match just how much he needed in return, you stopped disliking this new life because Homelander would never be satiated, because he would wear you down to a stub, because he would scare you away if you didn’t find a way to get breathing room, more for his sake than your own. You loved him, you wanted to hold tight but if he kept going you would let go of his hand mid-flight and the thought of hating him or falling out of love with him filled you with dread.

You needed him on a cellular level, you joked in the past as you talked to a neighbor, who understood you as he laughed.

It stung for a long time to live this way– You just made it look easy.

But you made it, and it earned you some perks.

You checked your agenda to make sure that time had come around, you weren’t called the Noble Consort for nothing– he would reserve you even outside your birthday week.

8.3 million people in this city and he could make sure you felt like the only one in this town.

Perpetually charming you thought as he landed inthe balcony with your favorite chocolate and flowers.

 If Homelander had to explain why he kept you the longest it was how you talked to him earnestly, you treated him as if he was not just a celeb but a husband, how happy you always were too see him, how you always clung to his shoulders even before his boots touched the ground and how quickly you always dragged him inside worried he would get sick from the cold winds, even if he went weeks without seeing you in person you never let him see it, it was as if no matter how long it had pass you couldn’t care less, only the now you experienced together mattered.

He wondered if this was how sailors felt when they came back home after a lengthy tour, if it was warm like this.

No matter how long this had been going on for– your love was genuine, he even thought of you as a weekend masochist for putting up with his whims, but you took him as he was and that was something special… something worth keeping… worth protecting.

He could snuggle in your chest all he wanted, he knew your fingers would scratch his scalp without command, he would find your warmth either gifted by your words or your core.

A perfect spouse to him, he would whisper to himself when you slept or when he missed you, in this intimacy he knew he would stay with you, the only one who understood what this place was all about, who was this emperor’s favorite.

Now when it came to sex–the life of his concubine wasn’t sexless… you doubted the man actually lived in his actual penthouse all the way up in Vought Tower, he might use it to change suits or pick up his mail, for he would share somebody else’s bed every night, if he didn’t you would find out at the lobby, perks of knowing everybody in the building was that rumors traveled quickly and plans of actions would be organized in elevators… so your bed was not infrequent and during your weeks he would always sleep there.

You keep a spare pair of his boots and gloves that didn’t came with the apartment, which said a lot about how infrequently did he slept at his legal address and your longevity in this palace– what did came was a toothbrush, comb, some of his skincare products and extra-creamy milk restocked frequently more so these days.

These private weeks were both sugary and bitter, date nights and cuddling lazily on the couch as he spoke of his day and listened to yours, you spoke a lot catching up with lost time while he washed your back and you washed his hair, knowing he would leave soon enough and return to some girl back in the tower or go downstairs.

And as your week ended he would treat you to something adventurous.

You kissed him in the upper courtyard by the warm dim lights surrounded by whistling shrubs, the night was starting to grow cold, draping his cape around you for your comfort, he moaned as your lips suckled on his neck savoring the feel of your tongue as you drew lines on chin, slowly melting on your sweltering heat, your hand taking his thigh with a firm squeeze teasing him as they came close to his member, kissing until lips bruised and blood inked his tongue, you kissed until his jaw started to numb and his cock leaked with anticipation, being uphere where somebody might see always excited him, he had already baptized every bench in this courtyard but it didn’t lose his splendor just yet.

His hips buckle as your hand finally gave him much needed affection, hearing your muscles push as hard as they could against him, mewling as you chuckled with delight at his reactions, his eyes so hazy.

Trembling as your hand left him, you pulled at his belt watching him blush as he remembered that the one thing you lacked was super strength, you leaned back as he swiftly began to lower his tights, throwing his belt to the ground so the cold steel wouldn’t make you shudder.

His cock was hard, crying rivers into the cold wind until your lips kissed it better.

He made no attempt to conceal his moaning, growling as your teeth grazed the sensitive head, he was unapologetically loud, this was the one place where he forgo all his acting lessons, nor did you want him to be quiet it made you excited to hear him moan, he just sounded so needy– cute too… and tonite he was obscenely loud, animalistic even, grunting and growling as your drooled unto your chin and made his thigh slippery, as you took his cock down to the base, licking down his taint, he lifted his legs adjusting his position to follow your tongue, whining and panting as you pleasured him, aggressively pumping at his cock as you suck gently on his balls.

You look up from half-lid eyes drowning on your own pleasure, he came with ease coating your throat with his thick salty cum but just as quickly as he came he would come back up and just as hard as a minute ago– you made it into a game to see how many times you could make him cum before he begged you to let him do it inside you for that was the only way to kill his battery. Pumping his shaft with short and quick pump focusing on the mid-length as to deprive his crying tip taking sadistic delight in knowing that he wanted you to touch the tip immediately but being too far gone to asks for it clearly as he mumbled incoherently behind his breathy wanton, his hips following the rhythm of your hands and tongue.

A shaky smile crossed his lips as the consort took pity on him, you chuckled knowing you won an unspoken bet with your downstairs neighbor, pulling their hair out of the way as their head went up and down and lips grazed your fingers.

You climbed up letting your fellow concubine enjoy themselves in this debauchery.

Biting on his ears as you whispered what you wished to do with him, calling him by his name with a sweetness that tingled something scary inside him.

Homelander laughed weakly against you, his hand pulling on the other’s hair gently, he spouts his orders, throwing the cushions unto the ground you both give each other giddy looks as the man pulls you down with him with the last bit of composure he had before burying his face with your crotch, one hand kept your hips in place and the other held his other concubine hand, gasping against you as the other took him, you saw red– it was not a competition but you did not want him to only focus on the warm enveloping his cock.

All that filled the air were your choir of moans above his muffled coos and whines as you fucked his mouth, his tongue doing his best to keep up, eyes rolling back as you took fistfuls of his hair pulling harshly distracting him so much that he had begun to run of breath, as he ate everything and swallowed desperately, trying to concentrate on the feeling developing his tongue and lips and the sweet musky scent drowing him, fading with a twsited smile as you fucked him earnestly and harshly, he loved it when he was made into a bitch, he would never say it outloud of course– like many things in this building it went unspoken, but you could tell that all the old residents shared a certain quality to them.

Men and women who provided something everybody was afraid of giving to him before.

You’d seen him cling to men and women who wished to mark him, who told him that he was as much their property as they were his.

That proved their love was not superficial… It was genuine.

Or genuine enough for him.

He moaned and bucked his hips pathetically, yearning to reach the furthest parts of you, filling you, to feel his own cum foaming within you as he fucked you.

Moving you quickly, glad that this time he had thought ahead with these cushions for your knees would be bleeding and burning otherwise– it was all hazy at this point, all you knew was his name, the cold wind hardening your nipples, and the sound of his hips slapping into you as he whimpered with a mixture of desperation and pleasure, he finger fucked your companion, hands fucking his lover just as fast and hard to have the concubine running out of breath begging Homelander to not dare stop, making a mess of themselves on his fingers, coating them as their hole squelched and sucked him right back in, as the man grew pleased with the sight, your hands interlocked squeezing hard as they rode their orgasm to a happy end.

You caught a ruby glimpse reflecting in a metal bench nearby, you gulped knowing you had to think quickly.

Turning your face and arching your back as you begged him to hold you.

Coming loudly letting your knees and elbows give up, letting him push you down with his weight, always surprised how heavy those silly golden eagles are, you couldn’t believe his shoulders weren’t stiff 24/7, with a satisfied chuckle he waits for you both to snuggle with him.

The other urges him to take it into their apartment for it was getting cold and they sure didn’t want to catch a cold.

He half-begrudgingly agreed, wishing deep down to go a few more rounds outside but as he felt your goosebumps he took you both inside urgently.

Your hands never touched after that, Homelander ever so vigilant of both your movements, all you could do was hope the concubine would learn just how stringent and absurd John could be, fearful that anybody would dare hold affections to anybody but him.

You kissed his neck, nuzzling against him as he watched the sleeping concubine coldly, arguing with himself if they had meant to break the rules.

Whispering his name as he squeezed your stomach, soothing his unspoken anxiety he let go of those thoughts.

He returned your affections, easing into him as you fed off his warmth.

You whispered quietly, enjoying each other, easing his worries.

This was a peculiar life but in these quiet moments it was like any other.

In these moments it all felt perfectly normal, the world might never get it entirely and you yourself struggled with it at times but when you woke up to his kisses on your chest as he found a way to turn into the little spoon while the other sneaked to the toilet, you certainly didn’t want to change things.

Not one bit.

[lovebugism]

Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]

summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies

You never did crack open that bottle.

The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.

There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.

Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.

Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face. 

He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.

“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”

“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”

You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”

Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”

He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.

“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”

You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.

“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”

“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.

You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”

“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’

You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.

Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”

“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand. 

“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”

“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.

The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”

You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”

Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”

“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.

Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”

“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”

“You couldn’t,” he insists.

You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”

Eddie grins. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo.

“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands. 

He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.

Except you.

“Whaddaya got?”

“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch. 

Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.

“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.

“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.

Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”

“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”

“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”

—————

You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later. 

The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…

Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.

You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…

“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”

Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”

“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”

Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.

“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”

Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”

Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.

“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”

Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown. 

Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her. 

“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”

The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.

“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.

Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”

She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.

Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.

“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.

“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”

You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices. 

Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.

You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.

“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.

“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.

You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can���t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”

You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.

“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.

You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”

“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”

Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.

Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”

“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.

He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”

“Two of them?”

The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.

Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”

Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh. 

You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.

Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”

The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life. 

“I think I’m gonna—”

“Well, I should—”

The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.

“You first,” you tell him.

“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking. 

His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.

“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”

Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go. 

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”

“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”

You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”

“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”

He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.

Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.

You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”

“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.

You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”

And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place. 

How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?

You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.

“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.

“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.

“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”

“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.

His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.

You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year. 

Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.

Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.

With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.

“Good night, Eddie.”

[mellohisan]

complete the set ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ lore under the cut ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

i do self insert comms!

SO these two are Stan Pines and my self insert- Red’s- kids, 14 year old twin girls named Caryn and Maeve.

Caryn - Her Dad’s old red jacket, choppy hair that she tried to cut herself before Mom fixed it for her, has her Dad’s ears and eyes (to Stan’s sympathy). Troublemaker, mischievous, athletic, Tom-boy. Six fingers like her Uncle Ford, artistic like her Mom, a knack for crime like her Dad. Wears glasses.

Maeve - Tries to wear her hair up as much as possible to avoid it getting in her face, Mom’s old hunting boots, stole Mom’s necklace. Studious, smart-ass, STEM-forward, adventurous. Wears glasses.

Vague Plot:

Mom’s been weird ever since Dad died three years ago.

She’d been weird before! In a quirky, lovable sort of way. Dad had always said that Mom was the weirdest girl he’d ever met, with that overly fond look in his clouded eyes. 

Now, though… 

Maeve has her theories. Wild, outlandish theories. Mom’s been replaced with a robot, with a clone, she swapped bodies with someone, she’s from an alternate universe-

…Caryn thinks that… Mom is just really alone, for the first time in fourteen years. She can’t help but think that, yeah, Mom is way different, and thinks about what she’d do if Maeve ever died. 

It makes her stomach churn something awful, so she usually shoves those kinds of thoughts away fast. She never wants to think about losing Maeve. 

Uncle Ford died before Dad- Dad had always laughed at how mundane of a death it had been. A heart attack.

Caryn knows Maeve wants to find out what’s up with Mom and, more than anything, how to fix it. Caryn doesn’t think this is something they can fix, but a suspiciously friendly yellow Triangle seems to think otherwise.

All he wants is Mom’s necklace.

[deadgirlwalked]

Canary Au - incorrect quotes

Hyperion: Listen, so you're gay for Hugh, that doesn't matter what matters is-

Homelander: I'm not gay tho.

Hyperion: *has seen this man pine for her bestfriend for the last 6 months* are you for real?

--

Homelander: So who was that guy?

Hughie: oh he's my ex.

Homelander: *so he has low standards, perfect*

--

Homelander: Maeve, what's an "bisexual"?

Maeve: ... Homelander it's 3am.

--

The Deep: You wanna watch Transformer's 3?

Translucent: I thought you'd never ask.

Lamplighter: Can we watch literally anything else?

The Deep/Translucent: No.