#anyway here's the sunset wedding they deserved

[folkbreeze]

effectively crying to married life (piano + violin version) [ ♪ ]

[newtonsheffield]

Molly,

Apparently most reviewers agree with you that the season/writing is just awful. And a LOT of people are furious over losing Michael. Did the writers not read that book? All Franny ever wanted was a quiet life and children. You cut her story at the knees if you make her love interest a woman. She can't have a child in the 1800s without a husband. What are they going to say she had IVF? 🤦‍♀️ I agree they get an extended season next year for Benedict and Eloise combined (10-12 episodes) and then its over. They only were renewed one more year anyway and Netflix (which cancels everything) isn't going to be happy with a new season every two years.

Okay here’s the thing now that I’ve had time to organize my thoughts about Michaela Stirling being introduced.

I’m not opposed to her. Initially when they introduced her immediately after Eloise asking to go to Scotland I was like “Ohhhh Eloise is going to fall in love with Michaela and Francesca and John will ride off into the sunset (sit quietly and not talk)”

But I think Francesca’s reaction to Michaela, and her reaction when she kissed John at their wedding makes that unlikely.

So to my mind there’s two ways this goes now.

1) John dies. Michaela and Francesca grow closer. Etc etc. the exact storyline just with a woman instead of a man. They end up adopting children because Francesca still yearns for a baby. Sweet. I even like it. Michaela being a woman does introduce difficulty in the fact that were John to die there would be another Earl of Kilmartin who is not her. And so we cannot assume that this Earl would allow Francesca so many liberties. Michael did because he was in love with her. This new Earl likely won’t. But the show will likely… conveniently send them to India

2) John does not die but senses the attraction between his cousin and wife and allows them to be together while staying married to Francesca. Their marriage basically becoming a beard. This makes me a little sad to think of because I think there was power in the subtlety of Francesca and John’s relationship. That’s what he all thought was sweet the first time round. To have her so thunderstruck by Michaela I think makes it seem a little that Francesca mistook the companionship she felt with John for with love.

My issue with Michaela Stirling is mostly that, and I’ve said numerous times that this was a story I was concerned about the show tackling, I don’t think the show is capable of portraying the subtlety a story like this deserves. I would love to be wrong though.

[differenteagletragedy]

Baxter thought that going back to Golden Grove after so many years away might have been a good experience. Healing, in a way. He at least believed that he wouldn't feel like a walking open wound like he did when he'd left.

But, like so many times before, he was wrong.

Being back in his old hometown left him with a particular kind of ache, one that he was hardly expecting. He'd wanted to reclaim it in a way, walk you down the streets he use to ride his bike on when he was a kid, show you everything -- only his happiest memories. But every single place looked dark now without the hazy happy light of youth to blur it into something better.

He thought that when he saw the old convenience store that he'd think of the boys club, picking out snacks with Qiu and Ren, sustenance for adventures. He'd always reminisced on his own, it had always been a sad thing, but he wanted to desperately for it to turn happy with you. Instead, he pictured the last time he and his old friends came there together, how distant things felt and how hard he tried to hold onto them, how frustrated he was that he just couldn't seem to do it.

Moments like that kept happening -- you wanted to see his dance studio, see the place where that passion was born, but driving by hurt so much that Baxter made an excuse as to why you couldn't stop. When the car passed by the diner, you suggested the two of you pop in for lunch, and his hands clenched the steering wheel so hard they hurt.

After a few times, he stopped making excuses. Not because he was adapting, but because you stopped asking.

That night in the hotel, he felt so incredibly on edge in a way that he hadn't in a long time. He thought he'd been gone from this place long enough to have put all his old hurts behind him, or that at least he'd buried them down deep enough that they wouldn't pop up again, but he was wrong. Being back here, being reminded of how broken he'd been here, was a nightmare. He was scared.

And when he got scared, he pushed people away.

"It's ok," you told him softly, kneeling on the bed behind him as he sat on the edge, wrapping your arms around him. "It's ok to be sad."

Baxter wanted nothing more in that moment than to be the kind of person who could easily accept that kindness, but in Golden Grove, he'd morphed back into that pitiful little boy he was then -- cold, distant, pushing the best parts of himself down so they didn't get hurt. He pried your arms off of his shoulders and let them drop.

You were sweet -- you were always too sweet to him. You put your hands back on his shoulders, gave him a kiss on the cheek, tried to console him. Every tender touch drove home the thought -- the fact -- that he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve you.

He stood, walking to the window. From there, he could see so much of the town. The backdrop to his beginnings, the place where he'd grown and been taught how worthless he was. He still remembered the whispered remarks he heard about himself, the dirty looks, every one of them well-earned.

Golden Grove felt like a black hole then, one that was quickly swallowing him up. He knew he wouldn't be there forever, it would be just a few short days until he was back in sunny California, but at that moment, he didn't feel like this feeling would ever leave him.

So he left you.

Baxter heard himself distantly telling you his thoughts -- a carefully calm version of them, anyway. It was reminiscent of the way he'd broken up with you years ago after the summer you spent together in Sunset Bird, with him assuring you that you wouldn't miss him, not really, and that he wouldn't bother you again. He blocked out your tears as best he could, and your pleas for him to just stop and talk about things. He'd already made up his mind.

It was easy enough, logistically, he thought. You didn't live together, and you didn't even live in Prism Vista -- it was a long distance relationship you'd formed since Jude and Scott's wedding, and he could make that distance work in his favor now. And before he ran the risk of letting himself be swayed by you, he started putting the distance in place right away by grabbing his bag, still unpacked, and leaving the room.

He wouldn't make this mistake again, he thought to himself. Because that's what you'd been, a mistake, he was sure of it. A beautiful, warm, life-changing mistake that he'd never make again.

You'd be all right, Baxter knew that. You'd find someone soon enough, someone who could give you everything he couldn't.

And as for him, he wouldn't be foolish enough to love someone again. Not ever.

[aphrodite1288]

Congratulations Ouri Kim Jong Date 🌹 👰‍♀️💍🤵🏻 🥂

I got so much hate for sharing photos without censoring their faces, but I don't care. Here take it

Jongdae calling her " Mihee-ya" I heard "M-iyan" 😂 but he really said "Mi-ya!" As mihee ya when he was giving her his vows and speech. I hope she deserves it and earns it after all these years of being his sasaeng.

Congratulations 👏🏻🎉👏🏻🎉🥳 I really am Happy if he's Happy.

Her name is Jung Mihee, She is his pretty Noona born in 1989, 3 years older than ouri Jongdae:

The Venue is beautiful with the sunset it was Magical seriously 🧡🧡🧡🧡

I loved How Jongdae Made ouri CBX as his Best-Men

Though why didn't Exo sing for him? Like they did to all their friends in their weddings? I better have a video of them singing to Jongdae by tomorrow morning!

People said Sehun was only eating throughout the whole ceremony 🤣 Him and Baekhyun's face though they didn't smile much, also I didn't like how Exo didn't make huge efforts in depressing up decently. Especially Ksoo and Sehun who wore the same style?? Are you going to your 9-5pm Office Job? It's a wedding! Where are you tuxedos?

Anyway we got our KAISOO and that's what matters, I loved how Ksoo

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 15

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. As I mentioned last chapter, some chapters may get heavy going forward (like the last one) so, just make sure you check the trigger warnings and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: none.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Jensen leaves numerous texts throughout the week and calls a few times morning and night, but I refuse to read or answer any of them. The guilt blooms into a giant stone, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. With the wedding only a few short days away, Stella keeps me very busy. She calls and texts almost as constantly as Jensen with stresses and questions and just looking for reassurance. 

Thankful for the distraction, I throw myself fully into helping Stella get ready for the wedding, not letting my mind to wander to anything else outside of my few shifts at the coffee shop. As the days pass her bridezilla shows a little more, but she’s not the angry, egotistical bridezilla, just excited and stressed. I help her through each hiccup passionately; trying to be the best Maid-of-Honor I can be. I figure that despite the rest of my life being a mess, I can at least ensure my best friend has the best wedding possible.

Finally, on the night before the big day, I arrive at sunset ready to stay the night and support her while Nick stays with Travis. While Stella isn’t the most traditional, Nick is, so she agreed to keep a few things traditional for him; one of them being not seeing each other before the ceremony. We’ve popped a wine, but at Nick’s request, I’m heavily monitoring her intake, restricting the both of us to just one glass; a slightly fuller glass than usual maybe, but one glass nonetheless. Despite her love for the drink, I know she’ll regret it if she’s hung over on her wedding day too. So, I take on my duties as seriously as possible, without being a buzzkill; I still want her to have the time of her life. 

I’d helped the other bridesmaids and groomsmen set up the venue in the morning–all under the watchful eye of the bride–so all we have to worry about now is relaxing. The bridesmaids, along with the beauticians and photographer will be here bright and early to start getting everyone ready, so I’m determined to get some rest tonight and make sure the bride-to-be does as well. 

We’re sitting on the couch watching terrible reality TV in silence while sipping our wine when she pulls me from my reverie. “So, no plus one for tomorrow then?”

“Nah. It’s fine, I’ll dance with Travis. It’s just a dance, tomorrow’s all about you anyway.”

“Look, Nick told me what he said to you…”

“Stell-”

“You were acting different, distant. You stopped telling me anything about your life…I live vicariously through you, you know. You’re not a distraction and you don’t bring me down.” She places her glass on the coffee table and scoots over closer so she can place her hands on my knees. “Look, I’m getting married tomorrow, and I want my best friend standing next to me. Not some shell of her. I want you, the dramatic, bubbly you that I dragged around to college parties. You’re the one that convinced me to give Nick a shot in the first place and dive head first into this. You’re the one that taught me to be spontaneous, and not judge all guys based on a couple of bad experienced. And now I just feel like you need to use some of that energy on yourself.”

I place my glass on the coffee table with hers and then wrap her in a big hug. “Oh, Stella. I’ve missed you. I’m a mess, and I just want you to get every happiness that you deserve…the perfect wedding, your promotion – that you neglected to tell me about, by the way – you deserve the world and I didn’t want to cast any shadows.”

“You’re the Yin to my Yang, just as you were the Yang to my Yin when I needed it. That’s what best friends are for. That’s why you’re my Maid-of-Honor and not one of the other girls I’ve known longer. We just clicked, and you’ve helped me through so much. Let me return the favor…you used to let me. Don’t stop just because Nick is over cautious. I love the man and I cannot wait to marry him, but he was in the wrong with what he said and I told him as much.”

I pull back slightly to meet her eyes. “I don’t want to cause any issues between you and Nick.”

“You didn’t. He did, but we’re working through that. I want you guys to get along, but more than that I want us to be okay.”

I nod and pull her back into my arms. “We’re okay. We’re always okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.” She pulls back and takes a sip of her wine before leaning back in the couch. “Oh and you’re not a mess. You’ve lived such a full, dramatic life with the biggest dreams while I’ve done all I can to stay on the reasonable path. I’m jealous. But because I’ve heard your stories and watched you, I know you’re gonna get everything you deserve. I just hope you’ll let me watch you and hear all about it.”

“Yeah, right…full and dramatic…Being cheated on and turned down from a hundred auditions and struggling to pay my bills one week to the next…Very full…”

“You’ve also lived in multiple states and overseas. I’ve never lived outside of Manhatten. And the auditions are amazing! I’ve spent years reading textbooks and designing social ads, while you’re off playing characters and living a hundred different lives. I wish I had your talent. Those producers just don’t know what they’re missing. After the wedding there’s an audition I think you should go to…I hope I didn’t over step but I already submitted your name and portfolio.”

“Stell, I don’t know…”

“It’s just one more audition. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll be right here and I’ll help you get an internship at the firm. You can be boring and responsible like me, if that’s what you want, I’ll help. But just go to the audition first.”

“I haven’t gotten any emails…If they call or email me with a callback I’ll think about it.”

“You’ll get one, trust me. The right exec will see your potential.”

An ad comes on the TV for a music hire store and it triggers something in my mind. “Maybe…In the meantime, did you ever organise music for tomorrow? I didn’t see a sound system or jukebox or anything like we talked about.”

“Yeah. We found a live band. Someone offered their services for a good price. Which I’m so thankful for, as cool as a jukebox would have been, I’m so much happier to have real people performing for us. The setlist may be a little different then we planned, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. They said they’ll bring all there own equipment so…”

“They offered at an affordable price in New York? Did you hear them first? Are they any good?”

“You think I’d risk letting some amateurs ruin my first dance? I’ve seen them perform, they’re good.”

“Alright. I look forward to it then.”

“Me too. So, we’re good?”

“Of course, we were never not good.”

“Good. I can go get some beauty rest then?”

“Not that you’re not plenty beautiful already. But yeah, we both should, big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, thanks for convincing Nick to leave the wine. I don’t think I ever would’ve calmed the jitters enough to address all that or sleep otherwise.”

“Anytime.”

Stella stands up and goes upstairs. I take both glasses to the sink and clean them before shutting off the TV and going up to the guestroom. I lay snuggled up in the plush blankets staring at the ceiling as sleep evades me. Despite feeling slightly lighter now that the tension between me and Stella is out in the open, the stone of guilt in my stomach is still the size of a grapefruit. Then the thought of another audition builds a ball of anxiety around it. Sick of staring endlessly into the darkness I reach for my phone and turn it on. As I scroll through the notifications I notice there’s been no recent texts or calls from Jensen. While I can’t blame him, it’s disappointing to know that he’s finally given up. But I know it’s all my own fault. I try to push away the depressing thoughts. I shut off my phone and roll over, throwing the blankets over my head. I will sleep to come.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92

[pedroscurls]

Third Time’s A Charm (epilogue)

Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales and Reader (female, second person POV)  Summary: You and Frankie get married. Word Count: 1,809 Author's Note: Thank you everyone for reading this story. It was truly so much fun to write and I also wanna thank you for sticking with me to the end. It’s been a rough past couple of weeks, so thank you for being patient with me. I had this sudden urge to write again... Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! (inspiration dress and hair.) Warning: None.

“Will��s gonna take her, Molly, and Tess to the venue and we’ll meet them there,” Santiago said, walking into the room with Benny. 

It was going to be a very casual and small wedding, held on the beach just right before the sunset. Santiago would be officiating the wedding while Benny and Will would stand next to Frankie, and Tess and Molly next to you. You and Frankie decided not to have a big, extravagant wedding mainly because both of you were already too excited to just already be married. You both decided to just invite the people that mattered most, the ones that had seen your relationship from the beginning. 

“How’d she look?” Frankie asked. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt, tucked into a pair of fitted black slacks. He slid on his black suit jacket and ran his hands across the sleeves, releasing any creases or wrinkles. 

“Amazing,” Benny smiled. “But I mean, she always looks amazing, so–”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, hermano,” Santiago said with a smile. Santiago, Benny, and Will were all wearing the same attire: white button-down shirts and black slacks. The guys didn’t bother with wearing nice shoes since you and Frankie decided to be barefoot while on the beach, exchanging vows. 

“You nervous?” Benny asked.

Frankie shook his head. “Just want to get married to her already. I’m more impatient than anything,” he laughed. “She’s gonna be Mrs. Francisco Morales in a little over an hour and I just can’t wait.” 

Santiago smiled, looking over at Benny and then back at Will. “She said the same thing.”

“I just wish Tom was here to see it too,” Frankie said with a sigh. “He’d probably say something like about time,” he smiled sadly. 

Benny and Santiago both let out a quiet sigh. “I think he knew that this was bound to happen anyway. Besides, Tess and Molly will be there too.” 

“I know,” Frankie nodded. 

“You got your vows?” Santiago asked.

He smiled. “Didn’t need to write them down.”

“Seriously?” Benny said with a shocked expression. “What happens if you forget what to say?” 

“I won’t,” Frankie said with a nod. 

“You gonna speak from the heart?” Benny asked.

“Exactly,” Frankie replied. “She’s all I ever wanted, Ben. It’ll be easy to express the love I have for her.” 

Santiago and Benny smiled. “Alright, lover boy. Let’s get you married,” Benny said. 

—

Frankie ran a hand through his hair as he wiggled his toes in the warm sand. The sun was starting to set, casting a perfect sunset along the water. The waves were low and quiet, crashing against each other as Benny and Will stood next to him. Santiago was facing the aisle, reaching over to rest a hand on Frankie’s shoulder. 

“You deserve this, Frankie,” Santiago said. 

Benny and Will smiled in agreement. “Are we gonna get to see you cry?” 

Frankie rolled his eyes, but answered truthfully. “I guess we’ll see.” 

Molly and Tess were standing across from Frankie and the rest of the guys, flashing them an excited grin. It still felt unnatural not to have Tom here, but being there for each other helped; time did too. 

Then, everyone’s gaze shifted and so did Frankie’s. He felt his breath being taken away at the sight of you. Your hair was braided in an updo, several strands of curled hair just falling from your face. Your dress had subtle ruffles towards the ends of your dress with an accentuated v-neck in the front and back, as well as sheer, laced sleeves. The warm orange tinge of the sunset casted a glow and the soft winds that swept past you made time stand still as Frankie watched you walk towards him. 

He felt tears sting his eyes; he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be able to get to marry you. 

“She’s beautiful,” Benny whispered. 

“Lucky sonofabitch,” Santiago teased.

Will chuckled and looked over at Frankie who was captured by your presence, just like always. 

“What did I do to deserve her?” Frankie whispered quietly, bringing a hand to wipe away his tears. “I’m never letting her go.” 

When you saw Frankie, you felt your heart beat faster and the butterflies fill your tummy. It was like you had fallen in love with him all over again. Frankie rarely dressed up, but when he did, he always left you speechless. His white button down shirt was tucked into his black slacks, paired with a black suit jacket. 

Your eyes were locked on his as you continued to walk towards him. Frankie had always looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on and even now, with tears in his eyes, he was still looking at you like you were the only person in this world that mattered to him. 

As you reached Frankie, he held out a hand for you that you eagerly took. You stood in front of him, holding both of his hands in yours.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, hermosa,” Frankie replied. 

You blushed, squeezing his hands as you forced yourself not to lean in to give him a kiss. “And you look handsome. You gotta dress up more often,” you teased.

“As long as you’re happy, I’ll do anything for you.” 

Santiago smiled and interrupted, “Well, let’s get you guys married.”

“Thank you for doing this, Santi,” you smiled. 

Santiago nodded with a smile and began speaking, watching as you and Frankie kept your eyes solely on each other. It was a fitting end to your story with each other. Of all the tribulations, the ups and downs, the things you both had to go through to get to where you were now, Santiago was the one person who was glad to see that it all worked out. He knew that when he set you and Frankie up together that it was a match made in heaven… And even despite the couple of breakups, Santiago always knew you both would work your way back to each other. 

He could see the love written all over your features, the love you had for each other, the hope and excitement of what the future would bring. 

Santiago said your name, watching as you looked up at him. “Do you have your vows ready?” 

You smiled and nodded, turning around to grab the paper from Tess. You unfolded it and kept one hand holding Frankie’s as you began to speak. 

“Francisco, no one has ever made me feel the way that you do. You’ve always been my safe place… Being in your arms, in your presence, is something I’m always going to want. And the amount of love I have for you just grows more and more each day. I promise to always be by your side, even when things get tough. I promise to always fight for us, for you, and for our relationship.” Tears pooled around your eyes and you released Frankie’s hand to wipe at your eyes with a tissue that Tess gave you. 

Letting out a quiet breath, you continued. 

“For everything we’ve been through, Frankie, it was all worth it because it led us to where we are now. I can’t wait to call you my husband and to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Santiago smiled and then turned to Frankie.

“And you, hermano?” 

Frankie bit his lower lip and reached up to cup your cheek, running his thumb across your cheek to swipe away your fallen tear. “I didn’t write anything because everything I have to say is something I’ve always wanted to tell you.” 

You smiled, leaning against his touch. You turned your head to gently press your lips against the inside of his wrist. “I love you,” you whispered.

Frankie smiled. “I love you so much, hermosa. I don’t know what I did in this life to ever deserve you, but I promise that I’ll always be the man you deserve. It’s always been you. After our first date, I remember telling the guys that I was going to marry you,” he said quietly. “You have always been by my side, even when it wasn’t easy on you and you have no idea how much that means to me.” Tears were now stinging his eyes and it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. 

“There’s no one else I’d rather be with than you. I can’t say that our life will be easy, or that it will be perfect, but I promise you that I will always do my best. I don’t ever want to live life without you and I can’t wait for what the future holds for us. Most of all, I can’t wait to finally call you my wife, hermosa.” 

Frankie tried to lean in to kiss you before Santiago cleared his throat, causing him to pull back with a quiet chuckle.

“Sorry,” he said.

Santiago smiled. “We’re almost there, don’t worry.” Then he motioned to Tess, who was carrying both of their rings. You turned around and took it from her with a smile, turning back to face Frankie. With both of you holding each other’s rings, Santiago turned his attention to you first.

“Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him, for as long as you both shall live?” 

You smiled, sliding the ring onto Frankie’s finger. “I do.” 

Santiago nodded with a grin and turned to Frankie, repeating the same words. 

“Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?” 

“With all my heart, I do,” Frankie answered, sliding the ring onto your finger. 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Morales, you may now kiss.”

“Finally,” Frankie grinned. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist. You leaned up on your toes and snaked your arms around his shoulders. 

“Mrs. Morales,” he whispered. 

“Finally,” you repeated, finally leaning in to press your lips against his.

Frankie sighed contentedly against your lips, moving his own slowly with yours. The sounds of clapping mixed in with the sounds of waves and when you pulled back to look up at him, the sun was finally setting, a glow surrounding the both of you.

“I love you, Frankie. You make me so happy…”

“I love you too, hermosa. Thank you for making me the luckiest man alive.” 

“Third time’s a charm, huh?” you teased.

Frankie grinned, resting his forehead against yours. “Third time’s a charm,” he repeated.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed, @tanzthompson, @casa-boiardi. @bitchwitch1981. @painitemoondust, @pedritosdarling, @vanemando15, @kittenlittle24​, @gracie7209​, @your-voice-is-mellifluous​, @mikeyswifie

[riverdalee]

Something Forgotten

Pairing: Reader x Cedric x Draco x Harry x OC (there’s a lot about to happen here!)

Summary: The heir of a renowned pure-blooded family, you try to find a way out of your betrothal to Draco Malfoy but with no one on your side, sudden black-outs and your ex-boyfriend Cedric out for blood, you struggle to keep your focus.

Listening to: THIS PLAYLIST

MASTERLIST

Hogwarts seemed smaller from the top of the astronomy tower. You rarely ever went up there – no one did, really – but tonight you’d wanted to get away from the busy bustle of the castle on a Friday night. It should’ve been sunset but the sky was a lifeless grey, the clouds darker in the distance, warning of a storm.

In a few hours you’d be at a society party filled with people you rather disliked. You couldn’t believe something as backward as a pure-blooded society was even allowed to exist in the current climate and worse, that you had to be a part of it.

Your family was practically wizarding royalty. Generations of wealthy, pure-blooded Slytherins and you and your sister were the last remaining heirs. Your mother was rotting in a cell in Azkaban, Voldemort’s most notorious follower and right hand man, leaving the familial obligations to your and your sister. She was more than happy to shoulder most of it but you wanted nothing to do with it.

You felt like a hypocrite for attending these parties when you didn’t believe in anything they stood for but even from Azkaban, you knew your mother would punish you should you step out of line.

Even though you were well liked among some, many students at Hogwarts avoided you altogether in fear of your family. Before your mother had been imprisoned she had been accused for formidable crimes; crimes that some saw as only making her more powerful. Those were the type of people that attended these society parties.

The dress you’d chosen to wear was a simple, slinky black gown that you’d come to regret as the wind bit at your skin. As you thought about heading back to the dorms to grab a jacket, the sound of someone clearing their throat made you turn around.

“Draco,” you said, eyeing his suit, “So you’re coming tonight?” His family’s status has dropped significantly. You were surprised they were invited at all.

He nodded.

There were only five students at Hogwarts that were a part of the society and you and Draco made up two of them, thought admittedly his family’s status was fairly lower than your own. In it’s peak, your mother had led the society at the young age of eighteen when she’d married your father. When he passed she took over, making it what it was today; feared.

The two of you rarely spoke. A few words in passing, if that.

“I thought I should tell you…” He walked over to you, an envelope in his hand. “They’re going to ask you to step up as head of the society tonight. To announce it officially, anyway. You wouldn’t take over until after you graduate.”

“What?”

“Not so much ask but tell you that is what is required of you.”

“I- I don’t understand. I’m not even of age.” You shook your head. “I don’t even contribute anything to them.”

“It only makes sense. Your mother ran it before you,” he told you.

“But my sister-“

“Your sister is being recruited to lead a certain group within M.A.C.U.S.A. She won’t turn it down. The chance to influence American laws against muggles…” Draco said, “Things are changing.”

It was just like your sister not to inform you of important decisions being made on your behalf. Your mother had been the same.

“I’ll talk to her about it. Thank you for telling me.” Your sister was just as cruel as your mother, if not more since she felt like she had something to prove. There was no way she’d listen to you but you had to try. Even she would agree you weren’t suitable for the role.

“She won’t be there,” he told you. He swallowed hard. “When they offer you the position tonight, accept it and whatever else it comes with. We both know your sister won’t hesitate in punishing you if you don’t.”

He was right. If this is what your family had planned for you and you didn’t follow through, an imperius curse would make you. It wouldn’t be the first time.

You hadn’t even thought about what accepting it would mean but the biggest, maybe most terrifying part crossed your mind. “I- I’d have to be married.”

It was outdated and sexist but it was in the laws of the society; if a woman were to lead, they would need to be married.

He nodded. “I know.” He reached into his pocked and pulled out a small, velvet box.

You furrowed your brows together. “W-what are you doing?” He must have been desperate to help his family’s name if he was willing to try and marry you.

“Your  mother made a unbreakable vow with mine when we were children,” Draco told you, “We’re betrothed. Tonight will just make it official. That’s what the party tonight is for; an engagement. Then a wedding in two years once we’re both eighteen.”

“Our engagement?” You felt bile in your throat just thinking about it. “I don’t believe you.”

Is that why’d he told you all this? So you wouldn’t break it off? “Look, I know your family is hanging by a thread right now, but I’m not going to marry you just so you can attach your name to mine.”

“This is bigger than that,” he said, “Your mother will die if you don’t follow through on her promise.”

“You think I care about that?” Your eyes prickled with tears.

“My mother will,” he said, “And I can’t let that happen.”

He looked vulnerable. It was the first time you’d seen him that way.

“Draco, I’m sorry but I’m not going through with it.” You shook your head. “If I must take this position and I must be married, it won’t be to you.” You had no intention of accepting the position at all but even the thought of a wedding to someone you barely knew made your skin crawl. You were only sixteen.

“I don’t want this anymore than you do,” he argued, “W-what if we just got engaged tonight and then we have two years to figure a way out of this? If the engagement happens tonight, your sister won’t poke around and I promise I’ll help, okay? I swear it. I swear – just-“ he inhaled slowly, “Just please help me, just this once.”

“Draco-“

He reached for your hand and took it gently in his. “I know we aren’t friends and that you probably despise me but one way or another this engagement is going to happen,” he said, “Do you remember our first society party together? We both left the castle together because we were the only children from Hogwarts allowed to attend?”

You nodded.

“You spelled my legs to jelly for calling Granger a mudblood before we left and your mother took you up to a room to scold you,” he said, “I followed because I- I think I wanted to yell at you too… and I heard what she did to you. It was the first time I ever heard the cruciatus curse.”

Your jaw tensed. “That’s enough, Draco,” you whispered.

He squeezed your hand lightly. “I know your sister is capable to the same and I don’t think you deserve to go through that,” he said, “You can trust me. If you go through with this engagement tonight, without a fight, we will find a way out of this.”

Your mind was spinning and you couldn’t land on a solution better than what he was offering. He was right. If you refused, if you made a scene, you would suffer at the hands of your sister and quite possibly your mother; she had her ways, even from Azkaban.

And it was possible with his help there would be a way out.

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay,” you said, “But as of tomorrow, we both start searching for ways around the spell.”

“I promise.”

The party was a blur but the grey diamond and emerald ring on your finger was enough of a reminder of what had happened. That and the haunting silver scar wrapped around Narcissa Malfoy’s wrist, proving what Draco had said to be true.

Your mind had been so preoccupied with the nights events you had forgotten a small detail you were paying for now; that you weren’t the only two from Hogwarts that attended those parties.

As soon as you’d woken up you’d found Pansy sitting on your bed to ask if the news was true; were you really to marry Draco?

You’d made it to the great hall without being stopped too many times but all eyes were still on you and the hushed whispers were slowly driving you insane.

“I hear you had an eventful night.” Harry took a seat beside you, only one piece of toast and bacon on his plate.

“Don’t start,” you groaned.

Harry was one of the only people that had spoken to you during first year. Everyone had heard how terrifying your family was and steered away. He’d remained a loyal friend to this day.

“You really couldn’t find anyone better than Draco?” He raised a brow.

“I don’t want this,” you sighed, “I’m just so tired of everything.”

Harry didn’t ask why you’d agreed to it. He had a feeling it was in fear of your family. “Why not just run away from it all?”

“There nowhere I could run that they wouldn’t find me,” you told him before shaking your head, “Let’s please talk about something else.”

It was only the first week of school. In a months time, no one would be talking about this.

“I actually do have some news,” he said slowly, “By tomorrow, people won’t even be talking about you.”

“What is it?”

He leaned closer. “Cedric’s back. He’s in Dumbledore’s office right now,” he whispered, “Back to graduate.”

Had it already been a year since Cedric had left? He hadn’t even said goodbye, not that you could blame him leaving that fast after watching Krum die that night of the Triwizard tournament.

“Oh.” He hadn’t written or called. He’d vanished from your life but god, you had missed him. Just the thought of laying your eyes on him again was making your heart ache. “I- I should go find him.”

You were running out of the hall before Harry could get another word out. By the time you reach Dumbledore’s office your heart was pounding. At that moment the door opened and Cedric stepped out, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you.

Your name on his lips was the sweetest sound you could hope to hear. “You grew your hair out,” he said, running a strand of it through his fingers and then dropping his hand to his side as he took a step away. “How did you know I was-“

“Harry,” you said, slightly out of breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write you, I was-“

“I don’t care,” you mumbled, pulling him into your arms, “I can’t believe you’re back.”

It’d been so long ago that the two of you had been dancing together at the Yule Ball, sneaking into each others dorms. You’d missed him but you hadn’t let yourself feel it up until that moment.

And then he pulled away.

“I was thinking,” he finished, “About everything that had happened.” He was distant; cold. You felt yourself panicking. “Your mother was in the graveyard the night Krum died,” he said, “Voldemort’s loyal soldier.”

“She’s rotting in a cell in Azkaban and you know I have nothing to do with that stuff. I would never-“

“It’s in your blood,” he argued, “It’s your birth right. Generations of-“

“Cedric-“

“Conceited, cruel and evil pure blooded Slytherins doing whatever they please,” he finished, “And one day you’ll be no different to them.”

“I am not like them.”

“Were you not at one of the parties just last night? Taking over from where your mother left off? Engaged to Draco?” He scoffed. “It doesn’t matter if you think you’re different, you’ll still do exactly what they want.”

“You don’t understand,” you shook your head, “I didn’t have a choice.”

You couldn’t tell him about the unbreakable vow. You had to act oblivious to it or your sister might catch wind that you were trying to find a way around it. And you couldn’t tell him how cruel your family really was – you couldn’t bear to speak of it. The cruciatus curse was the least of your mothers cruelty. “If I did, I would’ve chosen to be a nobody. I don’t want any of this.”

“The fortune, the fame, the fear at the mere mention of your name? You don’t want any of it?” he took a step closer to you, a dark look in his eyes, “You have no idea who or what you are but I can see it. Clearly.”

“Why are you being like this?” you asked him, “I’ve done nothing but miss you everyday you’ve been gone.”

He softened for a moment. “I think we should keep our distance. I’m not looking for a girlfriend right now.”

It hurt a little to hear but it was hardly the most awful thing he’d said in the last five minutes. “I didn’t – I didn’t come here to ask to be your girlfriend again. I just wanted to see you. I just want to be there for you, as a friend, if that’s what you need.”

“That’s the thing,” he said, brushing past you, “I don’t need you anymore.” And once he was far away enough, “And I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Once the sound of his footsteps disappeared, you let out shaky breath. Somehow last nights events had softened the blow of Cedric’s words. You had too much to worry about to focus on this one thing. But it still hurt. It all did.

Instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you tried to focus on finding a solution.

It was easy enough to find Draco, sulking in a corner of the great hall, his slender fingers picking at his food. You eyed the ring on his finger, the memory of putting it on him faint in your memory.

“So I was thinking we should make a trip to Diagon Alley this weekend. There’s sure to be someone there that can point us in the right direction on how to break the vow.”

Draco glanced up at you. “No.”

“No?”

He shook his head.

“Next weekend then?” you said.

He sighed. “You needed to hear me say we’d find a way out to go through with it last night. I only said what you needed to hear,” he stated, standing up, “There is no way out. The sooner you accept that, princess, the better.”

He walked away from you without a second glance. That was the second time in an hour you’d been left speechless.

You could see Harry watching the two of you, still in the same spot he’d been before you left to find Cedric. You thought to go over to him and tell him everything. You needed a friend, desperately.

But you felt the urge to be alone. To just let the hurt in for a little bit and then wake up tomorrow and figure things out.

Just once, you wanted to fall apart.

[nanaminokanojo]

Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 8/8 [COMPLETED]

CHARACTERS: Nanami Kento X You (fem!reader | PLEASE READ THE NOTES BELOW*) | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Utahime Iori | other JJK Characters CHAPTER COUNT: 8/8 WORD COUNT: 4, 800+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | smut | ooc depictions | female reader with described appearance* | modern au | rich people au | aged up characters CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | age gap | cigarette smoking | strong/mature/suggestive language | alcohol use SPOILERS: n/a STATUS: COMPLETED

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one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight (final)

"Play the Game" Masterlist

You stood by the door, watching the chaos in your brother’s bedroom as he prepared for his wedding at sunset, waiting for everyone to leave so you can finally speak to him in private. He was, after all, the only one in the family you cared for enough to inform him of your decisions.

People always say you and Gojo were similar. However, those very things that made you alike also set you apart. Besides the platinum white hair and remarkable blue eyes you shared – unique even within the clan – being the absolute obvious, the similarities stopped there.

You siblings were supposed to be akin to one another, but the same things they loved about your brother were the same things people abhorred about you. You and your brother were both prodigies. He was richer than the whole clan, all assets combined being the successful businessman he was ever since he was in his teens. It was as freakish as it was awe-inspiring. You were an artist of great renown with your multi-million dollar pieces and the youngest to have been dubbed as a national artist when you were the same age as him.

But where he basked in fame and acclaim, your prominence was fueled by infamy. Gojo built an empire that served as one of the pillars of the local economy. You produced artistic pieces that inspired execration and controversy. Undeniably brilliant, yes, but absolutely contentious.

Your brother was kind. In fact, he was the best older brother one could ever ask for, and that was not lip service nor was it because of your biases towards him. You can never discount how caring he is to you, how hard he tries to make you happy and how he would go through lengths as to be the idiot just to satisfy your whims. He was just genuinely good-natured although he appeared somewhat insouciant. He had his evil streak, too, which is established in the clan, but his goodness radiated like a light that followed him wherever he went.

However, you have long accepted that your side which reflected Gojo in every way when you were younger had long died. Altruism wasn’t one of your strongest suits and you were only ever affectionate to people you had deep, deep fondness for. And that wasn’t even something common. Even your parents had always been the receiving end of your lackadaisical attitude.

He attracted people, you repelled them. Being surrounded by the good people he called friends was a testament to that no matter how vexing his personality was, and more people want to be near him. Apart from your three friends, you didn't make any more and your school life sucked because majority of your classmates hated you. For what, you didn't know. You don’t think you will ever understand.

It was your seven-year gap that made all the difference, you liked to think. It was much easier to swallow than the concept of the whole cosmos conspiring to create two creatures to be equals but of the opposite nature. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be that way, but you will always be the one looking up to him regardless if you did not choose the same path as his; regardless of whether there were no comparisons with what either of you endeavored to do.

And above everything else, you loved Satoru very much.

“Got a minute?” You began, standing before him in front of the mirror. It was rather annoying watching him struggle with the cufflinks, and you didn’t think he would manage to fix the bowtie still hanging loosely on his neck. Thus, you thought of taking charge. “Give it here.”

Gojo was surprised, but he was nonetheless happy. He wore his heart on his sleeve after all, and you could only guess it was that vulnerability he risked showing that attracted people to him. You have only learned the intricacies of such a matter recently, something you had to agree with since it all made perfect sense.

“Thank you,” he said, tilting his head to the side, watching you work on his cuffs.

“You’re really getting married, huh?” you began, feeling yourself start to falter, but you have decided. You may not have gotten him the best wedding gift materially speaking, but you swore to let him in on what was going on with you, to be honest with him like you hadn’t been for the longest time. “Who would have known?”

“Am I finally getting that emotional pre-wedding sibling talk?” he asked, walking towards the seats by the window and looking out into the garden.

“You’re getting married, not being sent away to prison. I don’t even understand why this happens during weddings,” you quipped, sighing. “But I guess you could call it that.”

He smiled at you, patting the space beside him. You did as you were told, assuming the spot, but also looking out the window, watching as the organizers made finishing touches to the garden below. No expense was spared to make the occasion as perfect as it could get. You couldn’t argue with it. Gojo deserved the best, and to him, Utahime did, too.

“I’m waiting,” he said, breaking the silence that had befallen the room. “You’ve been pacing before the door for god knows how long when you should have been getting ready.”

“I got ready much faster than you did.”

“And you look beautiful.” He tilted his head to the side, eyeing you appreciatively. “Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re all grown up. And what a beautiful woman you’ve become.”

You smirked. “You’re looking at your mirror image after all.”

“Well, there’s that, of course.” He laughed slightly. “But I’m not just saying that because we’re basically the same person. You really are beautiful, baby sis.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, opting for it instead of his usual choice of mussing your hair since it has already been styled for the wedding.

You just shook your head. “Thank you, Satoru.”

“So, what did you want to talk about exactly?”

“The other day…” Your voice trailed off, thinking about what to say. It wasn’t that way before between you and your brother. He was always the easiest person to talk to, always open minded and optimistic about matters. But now that you were going to discuss something that he had vocally opposed, you were a bit scared of saying anything. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t do Nanami justice if you decided to hold back now, considering that he was more than ready to speak to your brother.

You’ve both initially decided to sit Gojo down and tell him about your decisions together, but you informed Nanami earlier in the day that you needed to have a proper conversation with him first. It wasn’t just your choice to be with Nanami that was the matter, and you wanted to get things straightened out with Gojo before he gets married.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“You said I don’t talk enough to you; that I don’t tell you things anymore.”

Gojo slowly nodded.

You breathed out. “Things changed. We can’t deny that. I grew up and you…well, you’ve decided you want to spend your life with Iori and build your own family.” Your lips curled up awkwardly as you tried to keep your emotions at bay. It was new territory having such talks with him when you’re used to your easy-going dynamic with him. “I’m scared, too. I mean, I can’t just bother you anytime anymore cause you’ll have your wife and eventually children to pay attention to and prioritize.”

He was taken aback by what you said, immediately drawing closer. “What are you saying, Y/N? You’re my sister. Nothing will change –”

“Our bond will not change, dude, but you have to admit that what I’m saying is true.” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. You beamed at the fact that your fingers were structured in the same tapered manner as his. Even the shape of your fingernails were the same, just that his hands were bigger than your delicate ones. “What I’m saying is that even if you need to do that, I will be fine.”

“Of course, you will be. You’re my sister, and above that, you are your own person, and you’re stronger than you think. You’ve been handling things on your own for as long as I can remember.” He pouted, trying to act cute with you. “It’s disappointing, to be honest, because you’ve never really given me the chance to play my role in your life because you’re always the mature one.”

You were confused now. “What are you on about? You’re my only brother, but I can’t imagine anyone else holding that position in my life. You’re the best I could have asked for. I’ve always looked up to you. You’re my role model.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. The fuck are you so surprised for?” You snickered. “That aside, if you felt like I’ve been leaving you out, that’s not the intention at all. I always want you to be the first one to know what’s going on with my life…”

He clucked his tongue. “I understand you’re not doing it on purpose, kid. I’m just worried that you didn’t think I’m worth telling anything because, well, I’m not exactly a proper adult, am I?”

“You’re realizing that now that you’re about to get married?” you taunted him, jabbing your thumb towards the direction of the garden. “Should I tell Iori to call this whole thing off?”

He waved you aside. “Hey, don’t say that!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, there’s something I wanted to tell you for a while now.”

“How long is a while, exactly?”

“Years and years.” You flashed him a rueful smile. “I just couldn’t figure out how to tell you because I am not exactly sure how you feel about it although you’ve told me many times you were opposed to it. What I’m saying it that, I know that fact, but it’s the motivation behind it that is beyond my knowledge.”

Gojo’s eyes rounded, realizing what you were saying. “Are you…”

You nodded. “Yes, I am talking about Kento.”

He just blinked and stood up, pacing around in front of you for a while that you had to stop him from doing it. He had such a bad habit of doing that when he is in deep thought, and always in front of you, too. He was making you dizzy.

You seized him by the wrist. “Please say something.”

“I…”

“Why are you opposed to it?”

He stopped pacing and faced you, taking you by the shoulders, his eyes starting to water. “Y/N…”

“Oh no, are you gonna cry?”

He furiously blinked his tears back, the action almost comical if it weren’t for the serious look on his face. “Because you are my little sister. You think it will be easy for me to just hand you over to anyone? My friends aren’t exceptions to that although I trust them with everything that I have. I will always, always worry about you when it comes to that matter because I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to be taken advantage of, and I don’t want to have to break either Suguru or Kento’s bones when the time comes.”

“I can manage the latter on my own.” You sighed, finding your resolve strengthening. “But like you said, I’m this old now. I want you to understand that I know what I am doing and I am confident about my decisions. Honestly, I didn’t want to talk about this as if I am asking for your permission. This is what I meant when I said I will be fine. I am not saying you don’t have a say in my life, but I am telling you this time because I want you to know before anyone else does.”

“Suguru doesn’t know?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

“Don’t be petty. I tell him things I can’t tell you just like you tell him things you can’t tell me,” but you nodded anyway. “He doesn’t know yet…I think.”

“So…you and Kento…”

You nodded again. “I’m in love with him, Satoru. And he feels the same way.”

“You are?” His expressions softened, hugging you to him. “You’ve grown. Really grown.”

You returned the gesture, holding onto him tight. “Please don’t ever think that I am leaving you out of my life because I always want to tell you everything.”

Just then, he pulled back, his brows furrowing while his eyes narrowed at you. “So, why isn’t he the one telling me this? Where is that bastard?”

You shrugged. “He wants to be here. Trust me. I just asked him if I could talk to you first because I have issues to resolve with you apart from my relationship with him.”

Gojo exhaled, nodding in understanding. “I understand, Y/N. But are you certain?”

“Yes. I’m scared of hurting him, but I’ll do my best, I guess.”

“Hmm, yeah. Maybe you should tone down on your mischief, too. I don’t want him dying of stress because of you. He’s still precious to me.”

At that, you laughed. “I know.”

He poked you on the cheek. “Alright then. If that’s what makes you happy, I won’t stand in your way. You have my blessing.” His teeth clenched then. “But I’m still going to have to talk to him man to man in case he thinks he’s off the hook.”

“Worry about your wedding first,” you jibed.

“I almost forgot about that.”

“I’m telling Iori.”

He shook his head, feigning panic. “Don’t.”

You both ended up laughing, joking about the guests who were arriving at the garden, poking fun at the relatives you both detested but had no choice but to invite. Just like that, you were back to how it used to be, easily conversing and sharing the same sentiments about things and same penchant for devilry.

Soon, the organizer came to his room, informing him that he needed to go to the garden to prepare. You reached up and fixed his tie and jacket for him, holding him at arm’s length to appreciate your handiwork. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you.” He smiled wide but you saw the nervousness in his eyes. “I’m getting married!”

“You are.”

“I’m more anxious about seeing Kento after what you told me,” he stated dramatically.

You eyed him witheringly. “Shut up and pull yourself together.”

He snickered then. “Kidding. Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

The two of you walk to the garden, your arm around his. He stood at the spot just by the last row of seats with you, grinning at you when he saw you looking at Nanami who was already dutifully standing on his spot, speaking to Geto.

“Concentrate on your vows, yeah?” you told your brother.

“I’m off.”

“In case we don’t get to talk before you leave for your honeymoon,” you began, “Just know that I am waiting for the speedy arrival of my nieces and nephews.”

Gojo laughed at that, but nodded anyway and said, “I’ll do a good job, I promise.”

“And Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you.”

“I know, kid. I know.” He turned on his heels and walked towards his place at the front pews while you watched, his steps leading you towards the very man you would want to see standing there when the time comes, his halo of golden locks bright under the setting sun but you knew your future with him would be even more brilliant.

**

The familiar bars of Johann Pachelbel’s “Canon” began to play in a modified, slowed-down wedding version made especially for Gojo and Utahime’s wedding, played on the harp, piano and violin, cueing the beginning to the entrance of the bridal entourage. It began with the entrance of the flower girls who scattered petals of different flowers on the white carpet that lined the long aisle.

Arches and bouquets of flowers festooned the garden, with gossamer cloth hanging about, interlaced with live wisteria that hung down from the canopy along with fairy lights that progressively turned on as the sky grew darker. White and pink dominated the color palette as Utahime had wished and the same goes for the reception area. It was probably one of the most beautiful wedding setups Nanami has ever seen.

But his eyes weren’t on the ornaments. They were trained on the end of the walled garden, waiting for your ascent on the marble steps where the white carpet extended, the march made more dramatic by the organizers by opting for a meandering aisle instead of the traditional, straight walkway for the bride. And it did achieve the desired effect when you finally emerged from the steps and into view.

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips upon finally seeing you clad in that familiar faded rose gown he had first seen being fitted on you to perfection. He kissed you while you wore that very article of clothing not long ago at the couturier’s shop, and though he thought back then that he has never seen anything more beautiful, he was amazed at the fact that you looked even more gorgeous in it as you glided towards the front.

He loved you so much it hurts, and although you’ve both professed your deep affections for one another and decided to take things head on together, he still felt like he was in the middle of a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. You came closer, and once more, he was back at the semi-outdoor ballroom the first day he came that week, beholding the goddess that was you but seemingly in a different light – brighter this time, overwhelming him to the point that he had to remind himself how to breathe when you finally looked his way and beamed unabashedly, your affections towards him unmasked, real and not under the guise of a game.

“Kento,” he heard Gojo say softly just then, the man’s blue eyes furtively glancing at him.

“Yes?” he answered in hushed tones.

“Hurt my baby sister and I’ll have your severed head hung by the gates of the estate,” he said. “Are we clear about that?”

Geto snickered, concealing it by facing the other way.

“Understood,” Nanami said seriously. “I’m counting on it.”

When you were near enough, you smiled at your brother and Geto before turning your attention to Nanami. You winked at him as you passed by before turning towards your spot opposite them across the aisle, your attention trained towards the point where you came from.

He couldn’t stop looking at you, not even when he felt Gojo hold onto his arm, squeezing tight as Utahime came into view. He didn’t mean to be insulting to his friends. She was beautiful in her wedding gown and he couldn’t help but be moved by the loving look that your brother had on his face as he watched his wife-to-be come closer, guided by her father who will give her away as the sun set. It was poetic. A new beginning after a beautiful end. He probably looked the same whenever his eyes would find you.

The ceremony carried on as everyone sat down, waiting for the couple to exchange their ‘I do’s.’ their vows, rings and the much-awaited kiss. It was making him emotional, thinking of the time when he himself would draw your veil and get to claim you as his for life in front of everyone you both loved and cared about. He couldn’t wait for it, and he may be getting ahead of himself, but he wanted what Gojo and Utahime had with you.

As the minister announced the pair man and wife, everyone applauded and cheered for them. He did so, too, chuckling when Geto whistled loudly, being his cheeky self. Just then, he nudged Nanami on the side, grinning impudently.

“Is it safe to assume you’re next?” he queried in the same manner.

Nanami rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Who knows? Someone might actually steal your heart in the next months and we’ll be seeing you crying as you watch your bride walk towards you by next year.”

Geto snickered at that. “Yeah, right. You looked like you wanted to jump Y/N and replace Satoru and Iori at the altar all this time.”

“Who wants to replace my brother and sister-in-law at the altar?” they heard you say, appearing out of nowhere, your head tilted to the side as you shifted your blue orbs between the two males, but before either of them could answer, you linked your arm with Nanami who smiled down at you blissfully. You returned the gesture, your cheeks blushing prettily under the twinkling lights overhead.

“I see you’ve figured things out.” Geto smirked, patting Nanami on the back just as Shoko came into view, taking the former by the arm, claiming she needed a smoke. She pulled him away, leaving you and Nanami to yourselves, winking as they walked away.

“So, you told him?” you asked, cocking your head towards the wide lawn where the pergolas were, built on three sides of the square and closed by an elevated area for the band, all surrounding a dance floor under a huge, white tent above, also adorned with thousands of lights. It was your design, solely for the wedding reception and a form of gift to the newlyweds.

“Satoru did indirectly when he said he’ll have my head hung at the gates of Gojo Manor if I hurt you.” He shook his head, laughing slightly. “Bastard had the gall to laugh at me, too.”

“He nearly cried when I told him earlier,” you said, regaling him with how your conversation with Gojo went. “He trusts you and is actually afraid I’ll hurt you, too.”

He shook his head. “It’s all part of the process, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm.”

“We’ll take it head on.” He held your hand, twining your fingers together.

You nodded, squeezing his larger hand. “We will.”

Just then, your friends emerged from the reception area with Noabara taking the lead, mischief drawn all over her face as she approached you. “I took care of the sitting arrangement,” she said to you then turned to Nanami. “Take care of Y/N. Make her cry and –”

“You’ll have my head?” Nanami supplemented but Nobara shook her head. “I’ll tan your hide. Satoru gets your head apparently.”

At that, Nanami laughed, nodding nonetheless. But to your surprise, she also turned her attention to you, holding you by the shoulders. “Are you still playing?”

“Nope.” You pressed your lips together, shaking your head slowly.

She smiled then. “Good.” She glanced at Nanami. “You’ve got you a good one here.”

“I know.”

They left you alone after that much to his relief, but then you said, “Wanna play a game?”

His eyes rounded and he felt tension again once he heard you say those familiar words, always the preamble to every single mischievous stunt you’ve ever pulled on everyone including him. He paused and looked at you. “I thought no more games?”

You smirked at him. “One more won’t hurt.”

He sighed, giving in. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear to god.”

“So, are you in?”

“When did I ever say no to you?”

You giggled. “Great.”

“What is it about this time?” he asked, indulging you.

“Whoever gets a rise out of Satoru first wins.”

“The stakes?”

You just winked suggestively at him.

**

You forfeited. For the first time, you lost in your own game. It counted – albeit momentary – because you initiated the game…said the very words that began everything that paved the way to the result you’ve always wanted. But you did not really consider it a loss when for the long run, you’ve gained the very person you’d always gladly lose to at any given time.

After you father offered a toast for the newlyweds, the speeches began, starting with Utahime’s parents then yours, eventually moving on to you, then the bride and groom’s shared close friends. Geto had been rather irreverent as usual, pointing out the things that both Gojo and Utahime supposedly disliked from one another yet brought them closer, making everyone laugh when Shoko came up the stage and began her speech, saying, “Opposites do attract.”

You sat on your table with Nanami, both of you waiting for your turns. He was next in line after Shoko, smirking at you as he stood up and walked towards the platform and began his piece by congratulating Gojo, “for landing a very gracious woman who has the most enduring patience I have ever known in all mankind, given the grief that Ieiri, Suguru and I had to endure before Iori came to his life.”

He continued on with his witty address, pretty much reflecting what Suguru said and entertaining the crowd enough when he started to express his gratitude. “While I know that this changes nothing between us as the best of friends – including your nature that tested one’s forbearance – I would like to say thank you for many things. Thank you because you are, well, you…” He did a dramatic eye roll.

The guests laughed.

“Thank you because you are a real person who offered friendship to quiet, boring old me,” he said, droning on about the things he appreciated about the couple before saying the things he was thankful to Gojo about. “And thank you, because without you, without our friendship, I wouldn’t have met the very person I also want to walk this earth with for the rest of my life.”

You would have fallen off your seat when Megumi playfully nudged you if it weren’t for Yuuji who also held onto your shoulders from behind your seat, shaking you excitedly.

“If it weren’t for one Gojo Satoru, I wouldn’t have met Y/N.”

You felt all eyes turn towards you, including your parents and your brother, heat suffusing your cheeks as you tried hard to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot for everyone to see. Nanami has outdone you this time, and you knew you didn’t have a chance to go against that when he had so publicly expressed how he felt about you.

“I love her with everything that I am,” he continued, “and I will continue to do so even without your threat to behead me.” He raised his glass. “To Iori and Satoru. May you have the happiest, most prosperous married life from today and for always.”

Geto whistled loudly while the guests applauded. You also stood up, clapping your hands slowly as you shook your head. You’ve lost big time, backed by the fact that your brother stood up raising his glass as he said, “I couldn’t have wished for a better future brother-in-law.” He then looked at you, smiling fondly.

Nanami got Gojo to state his approval for everyone to hear. You can’t win against that even if you nearly made the latter cry.

And now, you were just happy to be in Nanami’s arms as he swayed you both to the tune the jazz band was playing, your arms hanging around his shoulders and your fingers playing with the hair at the base of his head while he held you against him by the waist.

“So?” Nanami began. “How’s that for a final game?”

“Not bad,” you acceded, smirking at him. “I’ll admit defeat.”

“Damn right, you are.” He smiled down at you, his dark eyes reflecting the muted, xanthic lights that surrounded you. “I have a couple of things I’d want you to do for me, by the way.”

You nodded slowly, keeping a straight face at the mention of his prize. “Rules are rules.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “Then again, you haven’t told me what you wanted when you won a week ago.”

You grinned, burying your face on his chest, listening to the faint sound of his heart. “But I did get what I want.”

“And that is?”

You met his gaze from under your lashes. “You,” you stated in full confidence.

Nanami nodded, suppressing a smile. “If you say so.”

“I wouldn’t wish for anything else.” You pulled him towards you so you could peck him on the mouth. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know what for, but as always, anything for you.”

You chuckled at that. Knowing him, he’ll make good on his words for sure, so much so that you didn’t feel the least bit of worry where your future with him was concerned. “You have to learn how to say no to me.”

“I guess, but since I won, have I finally made it to the list of people you don’t mess with?” he asked.

“As promised, yes.”

“No more games?”

“No more games,” you repeated. “Although I have to say it keeps things interesting between us. Don’t you think so?”

You both dissolved in laughter, the merry mingling of your voices coming to a standstill when he bent down and cupped your cheeks, running his thumb over your cheek before staking his claim on your lips while you returned the gesture in kind, locked in each other’s arms, glad you both played the game. And won.

-THE END-

I would like to say thank you to everyone who read this and kept up with my erratic updating. It's been a good 6 weeks. Thanks!

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S “JUJUTSU KAISEN.” [20210814]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[ewritesthangs]

Q AND A TIME

Q and A time. Questions. And answers. Always a fun time especially with Corpse. Should be easy right? Ha! You guys veer off track more times than you can count!

"Hey guys. Y/N and Corpse here!"

"Whaddup babies." The sugar sweet sound of his raspy, gravely voice captures the hearts of many women and men. Including yours.

"That does things to me."

"Like?"

"Malfunction."

"You're functioning fine."

"I've learned to hide it well."

"Anyway, we are answering your most desirable questions. Thank you so much for participating and asking those questions. They're all great. Some were a bit weird."

"Like really guys? Toe fungus? Ew."

"Stay on topic babe." Corpse places a hand on your shoulder for emphasis.

"Okay first question. How did you and Y/N meet? We went to school together and lived next to each other."

"Then they moved. Leaving me all alone."

"I came back. Im here aren't I? Geeze."

"You're all mine now." He presses a loud kiss to your cheek. You blush and giggle, patting his cheek as he kisses you.

"My honey."

"How are you guys coping with the pandemic? Oh we are doing okay. Some days are harder than others."

"One time, Corpse was so sad, he wouldn't get out of bed. So I compromised and snuggled with him. Giving him kisses, love, attention. All the things he was craving apparently because about 2 hours later he got up and we went outside."

"She is so incredible. I can't even begin to explain my love and affection for her."

"You're such a sap. Its so sickenly sweet. Gross."

"You love it."

"I plead the fifth on that one."

"Okay next question!"

"Do you inspire each other? Deep. Yes we do. I hope I inspire Cor. He inspires me a lot. To be a better person."

"Now who is the sap?"

"Sappy questions deserve sappy reponses." You retort. Corpse just snickers.

"What is your greatest achievement together or apart? Well one of mine is blowing utogether. In such a small amount of time. Together? Hitting 3 years together."

"Holy shit its been that long?"

"Time flies baby."

"True shit right there."

"And I wouldn't-"

"Dont you dare."

"Have it any other way."

"You did it. Dammit Corpse. Sappyness."

"Sappy questions deserve sappy responses." He mocks with a smirk.

"You-you just used my line against me?"

"You do it to me all the time."

"Fair point."

You guys continue on, taking some live questions as well.

"How have you, Y/N, coped with Corpses medical issues? I stand right beside him, make sure he does his diet correctly and support him. If a flare-up happens we do immediate action. When he does to get his throat looked at, im holding his hand in the waiting room and waiting for him when he gets out. I listen to the doctors intently so I can be well informed."

"She seriously is the best. I can't even begin to describe the gratitude I have for her being there every little step of the way."

"Anything for the man I love." You two kiss, a cute sweet kiss to each others lips.

"I love you too."

"Oh thank God. I thought you kept me around cause I cleaned so well."

"That too."

"I knew it." You whisper loud enough for everyone to hear. Corpse pats your head.

"One more question."

"When are you guys getting married? Eventually. We hopefully will."

"Wellllllllllllll. I was going to wait until our anniversary."

"Wait what?"

"Get married on our anniversary. So I don't have to remember more dates."

"Lazy ass giving me a heart attack."

"You said the same thing when we talked about it."

"Thats besides the point here Cor."

"Well thats it for now folks! Thank you so much for following and supporting me and Y/N. We love you and can't wait to update you in a few months."

"Bye guys! Love yourself and then love others! We love you!" Corpse turns the livestream off and sighs heavily, tired from all the talking and laughing. "Wanna head to bed baby?"

"I want to do something first."

"As in?"

"Come with me." He gets up and takes your hand. You follow him to the balcony. The moon and a few stars were shining in the sunset.

"Wow. What beauty."

"I was hoping for the perfect sunset moment to do this."

"Do what? Oh my god." Corpse was getting down on one knee. A ring box in his hand. Unopened. He opens it, and you see a beautiful ring of your favorite metal and your birthstone. You audibly gasp. Tears flowing freely down your cheeks. Your hand was covering your mouth that was ajar.

"I love you more than life itself. You give me hope. You love me and support me and I want nothing more than for you to be my wife. Will you, Y/N Y/M/N, marry me?"

"Oh my God, YES CORPSE!" you can't contain your excitement for you just got engaged! You were jittery with love and happiness. His lips curl into a smile as he slips the ring onto your finger. He stands up and pulls you into his embrace before kissing you deeply, so deeply it almost knocks you out. Butterflies and stars dance around your head. You truly loved this man with all your heart. And now you're marrying him.

"You just made me the happiest man in the world."

"You're telling me. Oh my God were getting married!" You grab his face and peck his lips again. "Holy shit. How did you?"

"I crafted it online while you were away for that week." He smirked.

"You never seize to amaze me."

"Wait until you see where our honeymoon is gonna be."

"What!? Where?!"

"Tune in next year for when we get married. You'll find out after the wedding."

"I hate the suspense."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"Forever."

"And ever."

[deja-you]

Starlight

m. de lafayette x reader

chapter four | champagne and sunsets

summary: it was never your intent to be anything more than a common thief, but fate—and a rather attractive general—have other plans for you.

word count: 2.5k

masterlist | previous | next

The expression the receptionist makes when she hands over the key to the honeymoon suite is a little too suggestive, but other than that, you find that Ambros is a rather lovely planet. The high ceilings and gilded artwork on the walls of the hotel you were staying at were a mere microcosms for the glistening planet itself, rich off tourists and natural minerals. You had a brief amount of time to read up on the history of the planet from a pamphlet at the front desk while Lafayette was checking in.

The elevator ride to the twelfth floor is quick, and you and Lafayette carry your luggage to room 1215. With the slide of the key, the door swings open and you take in the sight before you. The room is spacious with large windows and a balcony facing out over the rose-colored sea. There's a large king-sized bed that takes up most of the space, rose petals strewn over the sheets. Romantic.

A golden bottle of champagne sits in an ice bucket calling out to you. You drop your bags to the floor and make your way to the champagne where you find a small note from the hotel congratulating you and Lafayette on your wedding. You stifle a laugh and brandish the bottle for Lafayette to see.

"Free champagne," you grin.

Lafayette raises an eyebrow. "Starlight, we're working. This isn't a vacation."

You roll your eyes. "I'm aware, but that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun. Congress is paying for the room, we really shouldn't let that money go to waste, right?"

He gives you a pointed look. "Your logic is flawed."

You sigh and put the bottle back down into the bucket; maybe you'll revisit the idea of opening the bottle of alcohol if he is going to be so uptight for the entire mission.

"I'm going to go scout the area," you mutter to him, coming up with an excuse to leave your shared living area. It's probably a good idea to memorize the layout anyway. You barely register Lafayette's response as you begin to explore the resort.

There are two entire floors dedicated just to the casino, and you make a note to yourself to check them out before you leave. A few restaurants: fine dining on the lower levels, small cafes toward the middle of the building, and a bar on one of the top observation decks. There are many attractions your hotel offers, and you decide to check out the conservatory on the twenty-ninth floor.

It's rather busy around this time of day, but the conservatory is expansive enough that you can walk around freely without bumping elbows with anyone. Walking from section to section, you slyly listen to bits and pieces of conversation hoping to pick up a lead on your target. Some time passes and realizing that you've examined a starfire flower one too many times, you decide it's time to search somewhere else.

In the elevator, you catch sight of the label "pool" on the highest level and don't think twice before pushing the button. Moments later, the elevator has shot into the sky, and with a ding, the doors roll open to reveal the light purple of the twilight sky. The weather is just right when you step out onto the roof, the warm climate of the planet combatted nicely with the early evening breeze.

Most guests are attending dinner at this time or going to see a show in one of the many theaters, so the pool deck is all yours for the taking. It's been a long day for you, so you think you deserve a little bit of self-indulgence. Removing your shoes, you sit down by the pool that seems to stretch on forever, reflecting the sky on its calm surface, and you dip your feet into the tranquil waters. Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to soak in the peace of the moment.

It feels like an eternity, but when you open your eyes and see that the sun has hardly moved from its low place in the sky, you know you haven't been up here too long. You hear the sound of the elevator doors opening and immediately you tense up in annoyance that someone would come to bother your solitude. You're about to pull your legs out of the water when the intruder speaks.

"I had a feeling I'd find you up here."

You turn your head slightly to see Lafayette walking toward you. You relax a bit. Once he approaches your side, he sits down next to you, and to your surprise, he rolls up his pant legs and dips his feet into the water beside you.

"Found any leads yet?" He asks.

You hum a response and shake your head. "No. You?"

"Nothing on out target, but I'm pretty sure there's a young cardshark in the casino that's been conning wealthy guests out of their money," he says.

This makes you smile a little. "Good for them. I used to do similar work."

"I'm just going to assume you mean working in a casino and not being a con-artist."

“What? We met because I decided to con you; are you not a fan of the business?” You lightly nudge his shoulder with your own as you tease him.

“Starlight, it’s illegal,” he points out.

“Only if you get caught.”

“But you did get caught.”

You purse your lips. “Yes, because I saved your life. You wouldn’t have ever found me if I didn’t have that one moral lapse of judgement.”

“Moral lapse of judgement?”

“Mm, yes,” you hum, “I was quite successful looking out for myself and making a living. It’s a shame I suddenly felt a sense of conviction and decided to save your life.”

Lafayette snorts at this. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you had a change of heart.”

You study his face in the dying light, pushing down the butterflies in your stomach that inevitably appear when he gives you that sideways smile. In this quiet moment, you take the time to admire the golden lines that run from his ears up the side of his forehead, intricately linking and marking him as Franco nobility. You want to memorize them and draw the patterns on your own skin; they’re beautiful. Before he can see that you’ve been staring, you look away, eyes falling to the reflections in the pool. You’re happy to be here now with him.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad, too.”

When the last of the daylight finally leaves the sky, Lafayette stands to his feet and offers you a hand. You accept, pulling yourself up to your full height. It's too cold to stay on the rooftop any longer, so the two of you step into the elevator and press the button for your room number.

The elevator ride is uneventful, and when you get to your floor, the cool evening air greets you once again. The wide halls of your floor have open walls, large columns are wedged between the floor and the ceiling. You and Lafayette lazily walk down the hall, not in a rush to be anywhere. There are a few other guests meandering about in the open air, and that's when you spot the group of New Britannia soldiers making their way down the hall.

Ambros is such a lovely planet, you nearly forget it's currently New Britannia territory in a bordering system. Troops of soldiers police the planet, checking credentials and arresting anyone they suspect have ties to the United Planets of Amerigo.

The troops are making their way down the hall, speaking with guests occasionally and checking their papers. Your heart begins to thrash against the walls of your ribcage as they get nearer. Lafayette bares the markings of Franco nobility, and Francosia has been known to sympathize with Amerigo.

In a split second, you've made up your mind.

Taking Lafayette's hand in yours, you pull him over to a column, adjusting the both of you to where you are placed with your back to the pillar and Lafayette in front of you. You guide his hands to your waist, and while he looks a bit bewildered, he allows your movements. Your hands reach up to cup either side of his face, your fingers deliberately covering up the golden markings on his face. You pull him closer so you are standing cheek to cheek as you hear the soldiers’ footsteps get closer.

“Just go along with it until they’re gone,” you whisper into his ear, smiling against his skin as if you’re saying something scandalous.

His eyes flicker to the soldiers with a look of realization before looking back to you. You press your lips against his cheek, and Lafayette seems to get the message, because the next thing you know, he’s wraps his arms around your waist and pushes you roughly against the stone behind you. Lafayette buries his face in the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses over your shoulder and along your collarbone.

His lips find a sweet spot, and he begins sucking a hickey into your skin, causing a soft moan to escape your lips. With one hand shielding his face from the passing soldiers, your other hand finds its place at the back of his neck. You can’t help but wonder when the Amerigo Army had time to teach its generals this technique.

The soldiers pass you with no problems, muttering something about “lovebirds” under their breath. Lafayette seems to have forgotten all about them, his lips moving up your neck to your cheek. He’s placing a kiss on the corner of your lips when you come back to your senses and lightly tug on the lapels of his suit.

“Love,” you say, and the both of you are both hyper-aware of how desperate and breathy your voice sounds. “Maybe we should take this back to the bedroom.”

His eyes meet yours, and he seems to understand the meaning behind your words. To your surprise, Lafayette picks you up bridal style and carries you back to the room. Once inside, he kicks shut the door behind the two of you and sets you down gently on the bed. Now that it’s just the two of you, Lafayette takes a step back from you. Tension lingers in the air.

“I… I’m sorry about that.” Lafayette’s eyes trail to the ground, obviously embarrassed.

You clear your throat, skin still warm from the moment before. “There’s nothing to apologize for. It was all just part of the cover.”

There is an awkward moment of silence between the two of you. Finally, he nods and moves toward the bathroom.

“Well, we have a long day tomorrow.”

“Yes, we should probably get ready for bed then,” you agree.

Lafayette spares you one last look, attempts a smile, and disappears into the bathroom. You hear the shower being turned on seconds later and take that as your cue to change into your nightgown. You slip into the cool covers of the bed, propping yourself up on the pillows until you find a comfortable place for yourself. While you wait for Lafayette to finish showering, you pull out your tablet and begin reading up on Ambrosian customs; you can never be too informed.

You have no idea of how long it has been, but eventually the shower shuts off. A few moments later the door swings open, and Lafayette steps out.

"About time," you tease. "Thought I'd never get a chance to brush my teeth."

"Next time you can join me. I hate to think you've been sitting out here bored," he responds.

You'd like to take a moment to think about how incredibly flirtatious his comment is, but your mind goes blank when you look up at him. He's fresh out of the shower, hair still wet. Lafayette wears a pair of dark sweatpants that hang too low on his waist. He's not wearing a shirt, and you can't help but stare at his toned skin. His stomach and arms are well-defined, and you catch the golden glint of the small medallion he wears around his neck.

He shrugs on a white t-shirt, and you can tell his body is still wet from the shower by the way the shirt clings to his torso. Never before have you wanted to be a t-shirt so badly in your life. You feel your face heat up, and you are in the process of pulling your gaze away from him, when he looks up and meets your eyes. The way his lips curved up into a smirk left you with a visceral feeling.

“S’there something I can help you with, starlight?” His tone is light and playful.

Your throat is dry, but you manage to get out, “I can think of a few things.”

Lafayette throws his head back and laughs quietly at your response, and you despise the way your heart crashes against its cage at his actions. You slide out of bed and move past him into the bathroom, putting toothpaste on your toothbrush and then shoving the toothbrush into your mouth before you say or do anything more that you’ll regret. Lafayette doesn’t notice the way you are aggressively brushing your teeth, and you don’t notice the way his eyes linger on the neckline of your nightgown and the hem that ends at your upper thigh.

When you finish brushing your teeth, Lafayette is taking a pillow off the bed and moving it to the floor.

“What are you doing?” You ask, knowing perfectly well what his intentions are.

He looks at you bewildered. “I just thought it would be—”

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the ground.”

“You’re not making me do anything.”

“Am I really that deplorable to be around?”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

Lafayette sort of resembles a deer in headlights at this moment. He shakes his head. “Starlight, we shouldn’t. It’s just that…”

“What? What is it?” Your hands have found their place on your hips and you quirk an eyebrow up at him, waiting for a response.

The answer is on the tip of his tongue. He knows why he shouldn’t share the bed with you, but truth is something he can’t say out loud. Lafayette sighs in defeat, picking up the pillow from the ground and tossing it back to the head of the bed.

Content with your victory, you climb under the covers on your side of the bed. Lafayette is still hesitant, but eventually he climbs into bed as well, keeping an absurd amount of distance from you. You consider making a comment about this, but you’ve already argued with him enough about the bed itself, so you bite your tongue. The light beside your bed is the only thing keeping the room from darkness; you turn it off and settle into bed.

“Goodnight.” You say this quietly, the darkness imbuing the room with a sense of peace that you are all too afraid to mess up.

Lafayette must feel this, too, because his response is a whisper as well. “Goodnight, starlight.”

[juniorgman187]

Something Borrowed, Something Blue (Reid Fic)

*MY GIF

Summary: Despite her engagement to someone else, Spencer grapples with the reality that he’s in love with SSA Reader when he sees her in her wedding dress.

A/N: I am so fucking proud of Spencer’s speech that I wrote.  Playlist: Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe + FINNEAS This song hurts so good :,) Category: Fluffy happy ending! Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: possible unrequited love, soft angst  Word Count: 6k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Call it a superpower or a sixth sense, but I had this inexplicable, preternatural ability to detect when we weren’t heading in the right direction - a skill unaffected by even shut eyes or the deepest slumber. 

It seems as though after all these years of being (y/n)’s passenger, my body has developed a survival adaptation in order to offer her guidance before she would even have to ask, or worse - lower her pride and admit she’s lost! 

With as hard-headed as she is, she’d sooner drive us to Timbuktu before asking me for help.

I was half-asleep when I peeked through one half-lidded eye to observe where we were only to see she blew right by Gregory Boulevard when she should’ve turned left on it. 

“Um, you should make a u-turn at this next light,” I gently advised her before returning my head to its previous position perched on my hand. I closed my eyes again with the presumption she would follow my navigation and make a u-turn, but when I didn’t feel the car change course, I opened them to see that she blew right past the stoplight, too. 

“Hey, my apartment’s that way.” I gestured behind us while looking at her for the first time, catching a smug look on her face. That’s when I knew I was in for it. “Where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see.” 

“You know I don’t like surprises,” I grumbled, slumping back into my seat with partially renewed energy. Her little antics never failed to get my heart racing. I never knew whether to expect a sweet sunset or a sea of snakes when it came to her. She was that polarizing. “Can I at least get a hint?” I egged on, considering she had yet to even reply to my first statement. 

She was completely unfazed by my pleading. She didn’t even peel her eyes away from the road - that’s how little attention she thought I deserved. “Mmm depends. What’s the magic word?” 

This blatant tease was successfully getting a rise out of me. “Pleaseee,” I dragged out the word as if it would do me any good to let her hear it for longer, but in reality, she just liked to hear me beg. 

She took a sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth, a chupse, to express her displeasure before saying, “Ooh tough luck. The magic word was actually mushroom, but nice try.” 

A mirthless chuckle escaped me for willingly falling for her tricks despite knowing she’d pull something just like that. This girl was the bane of my existence, but at least she still rewarded me with a hint anyway. 

“Your hint is …” While pondering what hint to give me, her eyes traveled to the side, away from the road long enough to make my heart palpitate in a “if-she-doesn’t-pay-attention-to-the-road, we’re-both-gonna-die” kind of way. 

“... something old.” 

Again, she tore her eyes away from the road so she could register my reaction, but truthfully, I didn’t have one. I had no idea what that hint meant. Or rather I had too many ideas, far too many to limit to just one. 

She could’ve been talking about the age of a location, the history of a place, the vintage appearance of something - virtually anything.

“There’s an infinite amount of possibilities about what that could mean,” I argued. “If you actually want me to guess, you’ll have to give me something more.” 

As expected, she was not a fan of my whining and simply rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, stop complaining and use that big brain of yours. I’m sure you’ll figure it out before we even get there.” 

Although there was a high probability she was right that I could’ve solved it by myself, it was more enticing to feed off of what she could give me. “What if I ask you ‘yes or no’ questions?”

The gears in her head were turning as she weighed the pros and cons of humoring my offer. “You better ask some good questions then,” was her answer, which was the long way of saying yes. 

“Is this ‘something old’ an object?”

She hesitated, then decided on, “No.” So I took that as maybe. 

“Is this ‘something old’ a place?” 

There was no indecision with this answer. “No.” 

“Is this ‘something old’ as in appearance?” 

Again, a partial hesitation, but still ultimately a, “No.”

Realizing I pretty much exhausted the tangible, I settled for something more abstract. “Is this ‘something old’ a concept?”

“Yes, you could say that.” 

Her answer would prove to be redundant, as just seconds after we would arrive at our mystery destination. 

Ellie’s Bridal Boutique. 

“Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue.” I recited to myself under my breath when I finally unearthed the meaning. The rhyme was a wedding tradition that referred to the things a bride is supposed to wear on her wedding day that’s meant to provide protection and prosperity for the new couple - a superstition.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” She mimicked the sound of a winning buzzer. “And you are going to be my something old.” 

A short chuckle left me as I stepped out of the car. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do - wear me?” I jested. 

“Well you are a very pretty boy, but I don’t know if you’re pretty enough to wear down the aisle.” 

“So then how am I going to be your something old? I’m only two years older than you.” 

She stopped dead in her tracks on the sidewalk to reach for my hand. I’d be lying if I said the chilling warmth of it didn’t make my breath hitch. My eyes fell to where our bodies met, but they rose to look at her again when she finally spoke. 

“You’re the very first person I met when I started working in the BAU, which makes you my oldest friend on the team, and since you were the first one that saw me, I wanted you to be the first one that saw me in my dress, too.” 

I was already aware that she’d picked out her wedding gown months before, so this appointment couldn’t have been anything more than an alteration update. The only reason I knew that, besides the obvious, was because I could still remember with perfect clarity the morning she came into work after her fitting. She marched right up to my desk to wave a picture of her in the garment right in my face. It wasn’t until I drew back with my head that I could see the image clearly. The dress, while incredibly stunning on her, ‘didn’t fit right’ - her words, not mine. 

“But that’s not how it’s actually gonna look on me. I asked them to take in the waist, change the neckline, and alter the length.” She vividly described to me, letting her finger run over the digital photo of the dress as she spoke. “Do you see what I mean?”

I lied when I said, “Yeah, I do,” because really, I didn’t need her to describe the details to me - I could already see the vision. Even if the dress was the wrong color, length, and ‘poofiness,’ I’d still think she’d look lovely. 

It was my only hope that her future husband would think so, too. 

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here for my alteration with Reagan at 4.” Just as quickly as she introduced herself to the receptionist, she was being whisked away by an older woman who seemed to have recognized her. 

“Oh, (y/n)! It’s so good to see you again! Come, come, your dress is ready. I just know you’ll love it.” 

Before she slipped out of my vision completely, (y/n) turned around to address me. “I’ll be right back, I promise. Just wait here.” 

I raised my hand in the air to give a short acknowledgment goodbye and followed her instruction to sit in the chair that lied directly in front of a circular raised platform. 

“Are you the groom?” A soft voice from beside me suddenly asked. I looked up to see it was the receptionist holding a tray with a glass of champagne. 

“Oh, I’m okay thank you,” I denied the alcohol with a shake of my head. “And no, no I’m not. Just an … an old friend.” Again, her words, not mine. 

It would come as a surprise to both me and you that with as much as I know about the world, I had no idea how long this would take before I saw her again. With my estimates, it should take maybe fifteen minutes maximum before she walked out in her dress, but who knows? It’s (y/n) after all. She runs on her own clock. The sun rises and sets on her. 

At least in my world it does. 

By around minute 17, I realized my estimates were way off and there was no way she’d be coming out any time soon, so with all that I could do in that store having been done already, the only thing left for me to do was read. Nothing of quality, though. Just those frivolous bridal magazines on the coffee table beside me. I didn’t even want to think about the germs and bacteria that were harboring on these reading materials, but if it meant it’d cure my boredom then perhaps the contraction of microbes would be worth it. 

To say I wasn’t well-versed in fashion would be an understatement and reading the subscriptions only emphasized that further. To put it in perspective, you could style my future bride in a medieval frock and it wouldn’t discourage me whatsoever because I simply have no understanding of what a ‘good’ wedding dress is, therefore, I cannot make an accurate comparison. 

Take, for example, the dress on page 17 of Modern Bride. The model was donning a high neck, long sleeve creme satin dress. I thought it looked quite nice and classic, but the excerpt described it as totally out of style and too old - a faux pas.

But when comparing that dress to the gown on page 24 of The Bride’s Guide, I couldn’t spot a single difference between the two, yet this passage was written in complete adoration. “This dress is vintage done right,” said the article. But to me - they were exactly identical! What was wrong with the first one?

Maybe it was a good thing grooms weren’t allowed to help pick wedding dresses because if I had to assist my bride in picking her’s, then, of course, it would be bad luck! I’d probably pick something utterly horrendous!

I had to admit it was slightly humiliating to confront my incompetence relating to wedding dresses, so before my self-esteem plummeted any further, I set the magazines back in their rightful place on the coffee table so they could once again be what they were always intended for - extraneous decor. 

With a flick of my watch, I noted the period of waiting had only increased by three minutes. Again, I had yet to master the art of wedding garment fittings, but how was 20 minutes not enough time to put a dress on? However, unlike my better half, I had (relatively) zero problems admitting my ignorance, whereas she’d rather drive us off a cliff or into a lake before letting me know she was lost. 

In surrender to my lack of knowledge, I rose from my seat to approach the receptionist and ask if she had a more accurate estimate for how long it would be until I saw (y/n) again. But as it turns out, any estimate she might’ve been able to tell me would’ve been completely wrong for she wouldn’t have even been able to finish her answer before the aforementioned future bride entered the space behind me. 

Remember before when I said I had no gauges of good fashion to outrank a medieval frock? Well, I stand corrected. 

(Y/n) in her dress is what I will measure everyone against. And no one will ever compare. 

“Wow…” The word came out of my mouth before I could think to stop it. My tone was so honest that it scared me. “I’m - You’re …” I was at a total loss for words that I had to sit back down to hopefully regain some clarity. She laughed at my stupidity with a laugh so gentle, I couldn’t not laugh back. 

“That good, huh?” 

I wordlessly nodded while my mouth lied openly in waiting. But the right words never came out; there just weren’t any that could capture this vision of perfection in front of me. 

My mannerisms had clearly already given away the true level of my admiration, so in an effort to lessen the enormity of my obvious wonderment, I reluctantly broke my gaze away from the angel in white and picked up a magazine on the table to perfect the notion of nonchalance. 

“You look . . .” She impatiently waited for my addition, even doing the most adorable little twirl in her dress to give me the full view in the meantime. “Nice,” was the adjective I settled for, as it was such a thoughtless response that perhaps it would convince her that there weren’t a million thoughts on my mind. The most recurring one, and arguably the most troubling one being: I think I’m in love with you. 

“Nice?” She repeated like the word stung her tongue, more out of mock offense than earnest disappointment. “You’re reading your magazine upside down so it’s gotta be better than nice.”

I bashfully looked down to find that, sure enough, her words were true. The magazine was upside down and therefore a total revelation of just how ‘nice’ I really thought she looked.

I tried to hide my smile behind my knuckles as I pressed a fist to my lips, deciding on the most sincere compliment I could give her. 

“Nobody holds a candle to you, (y/n),” I nodded in affirmation. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

After saying so, I nonchalantly - well as nonchalantly as one could when caught slack-jawed and completely in awe - reoriented the catalog. Had I glanced up even a second later, I might not have caught her reaction to my words and the way they made her smile uncontrollably. I looked back down at the magazine with a smirk, giving it a brief flick to open up the pages all the way to me and parrot the motions one would make if they were actually reading.

We both knew I wasn’t though. 

It seemed I never left that wedding boutique because even as we arrived outside my apartment later that day, my mind was still there, stuck on the future bride in her gown.

“Earth to Spencer!” She waved her hand in front of me to grab my attention despite already having it. “We’re here!” She announced. Who was I kidding? She always had my attention. I only wish it didn’t take me this long to realize that the reason she was constantly at the front of my mind was that I loved her.

Nearly about to exit the car, the millionth and one thought rang in my head like a bell - wedding bells, if you will. 

Speak now or forever hold your peace.

At a tantalizingly slow speed, I released the doorknob and turned back towards her.

“...I love you.”

She furrowed her brows and shrugged with her mouth, forming a confused pout. “I love you, too, Reid?” She kind of laughed when she said it, so I knew she thought this was just a friend sending off a friend goodbye, but I couldn’t let her think that’s what I meant. 

“No, not like that.” I clarified with the utmost candor. “I’m in love with you.” I shook my head when I said it which, in any other context, might make you think I was lying, but the shake of my head was merely the physical manifestation of every bone in my body knowing I shouldn’t be saying this, but my heart still having the audacity to do it anyway. 

I confessed with that brutally honest tone again, the one so raw and vulnerable it leaves you nauseous and breathless all at once as you anxiously anticipate the other person’s response to your vulnerability. But I couldn’t even meet her eyes, I was too scared. Even if I had, they would’ve been vacant. Her spirit had vanished from her body, and in its departure left just the shell of a woman who was completely void of color. Her flushed face was a remnant of the shock that paralyzed her and it wouldn’t disappear even as I tried to bring her color back. 

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I wish I had better timing - trust me, I will beat myself up later for not saying it sooner. But I promise you, I am not trying to ruin things between you two and I would never actually try to stand in the way of your wedding - you have to believe me. I want you to be happy and if he’s what makes you happy, then I will live with that. I just had to tell you now because ... if you married him without ever knowing how I felt, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself.”

This was true - I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I hadn’t said anything - but now that I have - will she be able to forgive me?

Vacant stares turned into piercing glares that drove, what felt like, a thousand daggers right through my heart. She was looking at me as though I were a stranger - completely unrecognizable to her. 

(Y/n), it’s me. It’s Spencer. Don’t you remember me? My heart pleaded. I’m still the same guy I was before. I’m the first friend you made on the team, remember? I’m your something old. Please, please remember me. 

By the time I came to the woeful conclusion that she wouldn’t reply, at least not now, there was only one question weighing on my heart heavily enough to make me ask it before I left her car. 

“Would it have been better if I didn’t tell you?” 

My question stayed answerless even as I lingered at the door after getting out, waiting for one. I knew I should’ve closed it, but I couldn’t. In many ways, it would’ve been shutting the only open vessel to her, formally closing myself off from our friendship. The possibility of losing her as soon as I walked away was too real, and I wasn’t ready yet.

“Please, (y/n), talk to me.” It was a trending theme to have every word I spoke be underlined by this profound piteousness. “Say something.” Say anything.

“I ... I need to get home,” She quietly whimpered, practically begging me to let her go. Up until then, I didn’t want to, but I suddenly wished I had shut the door sooner so that I might not have had to hear the quiet addition, “To my fiancé.”

The color she was so void of in her face? It seems I must have recompensed, for not only was I crowned her something old that day, but I was also her something blue. 

_ _ _ 

If there were a guidebook on all the things to do as the love of your life’s wedding (to someone else) nears, I’d like to think I was following all the protocol. 

Since my not-so-subtle confession, I had yet to press the subject or force her for an answer to my final question, which I think she was thankful for. I also hadn’t plotted a giant scheme to ruin the wedding, nor did I have any intentions of doing so. 

For all intents and purposes, I was acting as a gentleman (who’s in love with you but whom you’re not marrying) ideally should.

You would think that after my big declaration, (y/n) would do everything in her power to avoid me. It’s what I would’ve done. But she’s no coward. That exact heart of gold I fell in love with made no exceptions. Because even after what I did, she still had it in her to extend her kindness to me. 

She’s stubborn like that, remember? 

And though she was showering me with a treatment I didn’t deserve, it still wasn’t enough for my greedy heart. 

The true pain lied in the pretending. Every day I would have to come to work and talk with her and laugh with her and smile with her - I would have to be her friend … pretending that was all that I wanted and nothing more. 

It was both a blessing and a curse that she was acting just as she always had with me. It may seem weird to have expected, nay - wanted - a different reaction from her, but I just wanted something. At least, if she was angry, then I would know what I said had some effect on her, but she was just so indifferent. Like what I said didn’t matter. 

It’s been said that there is a thin line between love and hatred. Hate and love both seem to be involved in the neural processing of what is sometimes referred to as the arousal effect of emotion - this is a technical term, so arousal can be negative. Scientists studying the physical nature of hate have found that some of the nervous circuits in the brain responsible for it are the same as those that are used during the feeling of romantic love – although love and hate appear to be polar opposites. Therefore, the same brain circuitry is involved in both extreme emotions. So, as strange as it may sound, if she didn’t love me, then I at least wanted her to hate me, just so I’d know she had any passion for me that matched my burning passion for her.

But as it turns out, she would never go on to display signs of hatred or love, for she never acted passive-aggressively, never gave me the silent treatment - nothing. Nope, she just acted as if it never happened. She went on with her life, essentially expecting me to do the same, but how could I carry on with life while she was still carrying half of my heart with her? 

It’s an impossible feat, that - to walk around with half a heart. And it’s one that has not gotten easier with time. If anything, time has made it worse, and the closer we got to the wedding, the more difficult it became for me to hold back. And with this exponential growth, it was only inevitable that the pinnacle of difficulty came right before the wedding. 

Before shit hit the fan, she arranged, or rather insisted, that I give a speech at the dinner rehearsal. That hadn’t changed, despite almost everything else having done so. Up until the minute I arrived at the venue, I could’ve recited that speech a million times, forwards and backwards, in my sleep, or even in Russian. But I lost any ability to form coherent thoughts from the second I laid eyes on her. 

As soon as I opened the door, she stood at the entrance to greet her guests, having taken a radiant form that I could only imagine would not pale in comparison to what she would look like tomorrow on her actual wedding day. That thought alone scared me shitless. 

If this is how beautiful she looked tonight and it was only just the rehearsal, how would I ever be able to resist her less than 24 hours from now when she would be marrying a man I could only dream of being half so lucky as?

“Spencer!” Familiar crinkles formed around her eyes as a result of her gigantic smile when she saw me and hugged me thereafter. Her embrace was strangely tighter and lasted for longer than usual, not that I was complaining, but I had to wonder if she was compensating for something. What’s that saying - keep your friends close, and your enemies closer? Was she killing me with kindness? That might’ve been wishful thinking though. Because the same flash of indifference I’d been dealt in recent times came back into her face and tone after hugging me. “You’re at table five with the rest of the team.” 

“Oh, thanks.”

That was it? Just a ‘Spencer!’ and then a nudge in the direction of my seat? No questions about my speech? No threatening comments to not say anything that would ruin the charade we’d been playing for months now? Had she forgotten I was even giving a speech?

“Oh, wait, Spencer!” I felt her hand on my shoulder before I heard her voice. “You left this in my car a couple months ago. I’ve been meaning to give it back to you, but I didn’t remember until today.” 

The first thing that raised a red flag was what she was saying. I’d left something in her car? That would imply that I’d forgotten something, and we both knew that wasn’t possible. But the second suspicious element was the matter of what she claimed I’d left behind. She was handing me a book with the back cover facing me. From the looks of it alone, it wasn’t mine. Clearly, it wasn’t mine. I knew every single book that resides on my shelves and this one has never once crossed them. That, on top of the new book smell and the lack of a wear in the spine, was enough to tell me that not only was this a book I’d never read nor was one to grace my bookshelf, but it was most certainly not one I would have left behind.

She was lying. 

She saw the realization dawn on me, but knowing I would mention it, her hand’s grip around my wrist, which I hadn’t noticed was even there in the first place, tightened, sending me a message. 

She knew I saw the deception. There were so many flaws in what she was saying, that she couldn’t have possibly been clueless of them. It was too easy. Or maybe that was by design. She wanted me to figure out it was a lie. But why?

What was she hiding?

The final thing to leave me when she did was her hand. In its place, it had left a a near perfect indentation in my sleeve. How flawlessly it sculpted to her hand told me just how tightly she was holding me. What was she trying to say?

That’s when I flipped the book over to see the cover. 

Can Love Happen Twice?

And right on the inside cover page was scribbled - in a handwriting so distinctive it could only belong to one person and one person alone - “Yes.” 

_ _ _ 

My heart was racing the entire night as I anxiously awaited for the moment to give my speech. Nothing seemed to ease the tension. Not a sip of water, not the loosening of my tie, not the self-soothing bouncing of my leg. But all it took, all it took was one glance from her and suddenly, the storm within me had settled. 

“Next up we have a speech from Spencer Reid!” 

I rose from my seat like a floundering mess, as to be expected, because how can you possibly catch your bearings as you’re about to make a speech to a room full of people?

“H-hi there. I’m Dr. Spen- I’m Spencer Reid. I’ve worked with (y/n) for several years now and - and so I, um, I wrote this speech for her, so, so I’m gonna read it to you all now,” My stammering had gotten the best of me, so before I could unravel into the mess I surely came off as right about now, I spun from my previous position facing the majority to facing only her. I needed to see her. I needed the reprieve of her eyes again, and she was happy to give it to me.

“(Y/n), from the moment I met you, I thought who is she? And I mean that quite literally because I had no idea who you were and why you were there,” Laughter from the crowd erupted, but her laugh was the only one that mattered to me. “But also because there was just something about you that told me I needed to talk to you. I had no idea what that instinct to strike up a conversation with you would lead to, but I trust my gut a little more now because that very intuition gave me one of the best friends I’ve ever had.” 

To my words, an endeared pout formed on her face. She was touched, and I was glad. 

“Over the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years we’ve spent together, I have enjoyed every single measure of time with you. You have taught me more about life and myself than I could have ever learned otherwise - which says a lot,” This once again brought her to laughter. “So I thank you for that, because without you, there would be no one to tell my campfire stories to, there would be no one who could recite Jung or Freud with me, and there would be no one I’d have to correct when they drive down the wrong path,” My own chuckle cut my sentence short. 

“Life with you has simply been made better, and my only hope is that tomorrow, as you get married, you too, will experience that eternal bliss with which you have surely bestowed upon everyone who has had the privilege of knowing you.”

By now both of us were on the verge of tears, hers more apparent than mine as she used the palm of her hand to stifle her sniffles. 

“There is so much more I could say about how great you are, but your favorite author, F. Scott Fitzgerald, has said it best. ‘She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful’,” A tear ran down her cheek as my own eyes welled up beyond their means. “So to you both - may you have a life as beautiful as the bride.”

Even if that life isn’t with me. 

I tuned out all the clapping and cheering, and set my focus solely on her, giving me full liberty to see the way she rose from her chair and escaped the room. Not even shock could paralyze me or stop me from running after her. I sprung so fast into action, which required the maximum amount adrenaline, although I could not credit my speed to the rush, but it was more the exclusive motivation to find her that powered me. The entire time I kept calling out her name as I frantically chased her out of the venue. 

“Spencer.” 

I didn’t even see her there at first, probably because I was half-expecting her to be jumping into a cab or running away from me some more when I found her, but just as before, she made it too easy for me. She was waiting for me, standing there in no spectacular fashion. 

The wind was blowing strands of hair in her face that were not so large so that I couldn’t see the red rings around her eyes that were caused by the irritation and formation of tears. She was simply staring back at me with this look in her eyes as if she wanted to say something. 

In the silence, I could still appreciate how astonishingly gorgeous she was. How badly I wanted her. I would’ve whisked her away and taken her as mine if I knew it would make her happy. But that’s just it - I didn’t know. 

I needed her to say it. So say it. 

Say it, darling. 

Spoken through a congested voice (which spoke volumes in reality because of the mere revelation that she was indeed crying) was the plainest, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she vanished back into the restaurant, leaving me to my devices on the sidewalk. 

She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. 

_ _ _ 

Perhaps the false confidence in my speech or what little she had to say to me after it or even the hidden message in the book got to my head, but whatever it was, I was feeling suspiciously alright. Luckily, that feeling didn’t deviate even as I made my way to the church. 

Upon arrival, everything seemed exactly as it should be, so consequently the lack of something out of place did not adequately denote what lied just beyond those doors. Or should I say what didn’t?

Much to my mortification, it was a completely empty church. Every pew, though decorated for a wedding, was uninhabited and showed no indications of having been such recently. As I walked further in, the door automatically shut behind me with a loud bang. It would’ve shocked me more had something else not caught my attention already. 

It was (y/n), standing at the altar … completely alone. 

Suddenly, it felt like I’d been drawn in by this invisible gravity, which was now floating me down the aisle. My feet could not carry me to her fast enough.

I was sure this was some kind of dream simply by the way the light gleamed through the stained glass windows, casting banners of golden luminescence on her. It was as if heaven itself had come down with the specific delegation to illuminate the vision of one of its fallen angels. 

“(Y/n)?” My voice reverberated throughout the chapel, ricocheting off the high, painted ceilings and back to me. “Where is everyone?” 

It wasn’t until I reached a certain point in the middle aisle, that I realized her veil had been covering her face this entire time. The angel in white only turned more heavenly when she flipped the veil backward, revealing herself to me. 

It took her a moment to answer, but it was her head that answered first before her mouth did. She began shaking her head slowly, followed by a short, unequivocal, “No.”

As you might imagine, I was dumbfounded. “No?” That answer wouldn’t have made sense in the context of what I had previously asked. 

“No.” She repeated, with somehow even more definitiveness. I decided it was best to stay silent and wait for her explanation. 

“No, it wouldn’t have been better if you didn’t tell me.” 

There was my answer I’d been searching for. 

“God, Spencer - what took you so long?” 

From the breathlessness and the rushed cadence of her voice, I knew precisely what was coming next. She instantaneously abandoned the bouquet she’d been clutching in favor of her hands’ ability to pull me in. The pressure on my fragile skull when our frenzied lips finally met was not a punishment so much as it was a reward. And just as we began to find our rhythm, I slid my hand into her hair, which I began to regret when I realized just how much time and effort probably went into its structuring. I pulled away the moment I felt a carefully placed pin lodged within her hair slip between my fingers. 

True, for a moment I was unable to open my eyes afterward from the sheer elation I was experiencing, but as I came to, I found myself looking at the hairpin I’d accidentally extracted from her curls, one that I could’ve sworn I’d seen a fellow coworker of ours donning in the past. 

“Is this -”

“Yep, it’s Penelope’s.” She admitted through the most debonair giggles. After giving her a quizzical, and only partially judgmental glance, she managed to blurt out, “What? Why are you looking at me like that? It was my ‘something borrowed’!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

reid taglist: @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person 

[forever-rogue]

Hey☺️ I was wondering if you could do 14 & 90 from prompt list 1, for reader x Javier. I think it would be cute if they were on about to head home or something and reader convinces Javi to go to the carnival. They play the carnival games that are almost always rigged (maybe I just sucked at them lol) and reader gets competitive over it. It’s a very fluffy request but it would be so cute to see javis playful side come out a bit🥺 thank you so much and I love your writing❤️❤️🥺

14. “But the carnival is right down the street! Can we please, please go!?” 

90. “I didn’t know you were so competitive.” 

I think Javier deserves some softness, don’t you?

Also not necessary, but I picture this being Javi and his Dulzura from AGM 🥺

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader ; warnings: language 

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was a warm evening in Laredo, and the sun was starting to go down, casting the sky into brilliant hues of purples and pinks. It was warm still, the end of summer was slowly turning into fall, but warm enough where you could get away with wearing short sleeves and summer dresses. On this particular day, you were strolling hand in hand with Javier, taking your time as you walked home from dinner and back to Chucho’s house.

You’d come down to spend some time with Javier’s family, staying in town for a while for a wedding, and finally getting to relax and unwind for a while. You’d both been incredibly busy and it seemed like you hadn’t had more than a few minutes of alone time together. That’s why neither of you minded taking some extra time off and just being together. 

On this particular evening, Javier had taken you to one of his favorite places for dinner; it was nothing fancy or extravagant, but it had been his go to spot since he was young. You’d worn one of your - and Javier’s - favorite sundresses, not minding in the slightest as he eyed you up. Despite having been together for a few years now, you appreciated the attention. He always made you feel like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, like you were the one that personally hung all the stars in the night sky that he loved to watch so much. 

You couldn’t help but grin when you felt his thumb gently brush over the engagement ring that you now sported - soon enough it would be joined by a wedding band. He never thought he’d admit that he was exciting to get married, especially after his first engagement had ended in disaster, but fuck. He was excited to marry you - so excited to call you his wife. And you were just as excited to call him your husband. Javier was a good man - the best man - and to even think about spending the rest of your life with him was enough to set your soul on fire.

You grinned as you swung your hands back and forth, a little pep in your step as you noticed a commotion up ahead. Poking your head around, you tried to figure out what it was, but the laughter, music, and noise quickly provided an answer for you. Javier looked over at you, watched as your eyes widened in excitement, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“Javi,” you tugged on his hand lightly, “the carnival is right down the street! Can we please, please go?”

“Hmm,” he pretended to muse softly as he quirked a brow at you. Your mouth formed a small o as you quickly realized he had known that it was here, “what a complete surprise...I had no clue. Definitely didn’t plan on walking this particular way at all, or anything…”

“You planned this,” you looked at him with soft eyes, watching as his own crinkled in the corners as he nodded with a smile, his dimple making its appearance. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned over and quickly kissed him, letting your lips linger against his own, “look at you, always managed to surprise me. How very romantic of you, Javier Peña.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it that,” he shrugged lightly, relishing in your praise as a tinge of pink, similar to the color of shirt he was wearing, crept into his cheeks. Reaching over, you ran a hand through his dark locks, sighing contentedly as he keened into your touch, “but I thought you might like the idea.”

“I love it,” you agreed, giving him a quick kiss,  “I love you. Now - come on! We have to go; I want to go on the ferris wheel and those silly little games, oh! Cotton candy! No, no, no, funnel cake!”

“Don’t worry, Dulzura, it’s not going anywhere, we have plenty of time,” he insisted softly as you pulled him along with an excited bounce in your step. He couldn’t help but laugh as he followed after you. It was times like this, watching you get so excited and happy, that made him realize just how wonderful the little things were. Maybe it was just because he was so in love with you, maybe it was because he had softened with time - whatever the reason, he didn’t mind. He was happy; truly, truly happy.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You couldn’t help but giggle as Javier grabbed the bright blue cotton candy out of your hand. His fingers wrapped around your wrist as he brought your hand to his lips and licked your fingers clean of any of the sticky sweet residue. Your face flushed at the naughty little gesture, especially as he shot you a cheeky little wink.

“Behave Javier,” you warned, playfully slapping his cheek as you watched all the people around you. You’d been walking around, taking in all the sights and sounds as you watched the various people. Naturally, you’d already dragged him to the ferris wheel first, wanting to watch the remainder of the sunset from the top. You’d caught part of it, but the rest was cut off by Javier gently grabbing your face and kissing you until you were both breathless and grinning at each like lovestruck teenagers.

“What was that for?” you asked as you thoroughly lost the battle to keep the smile off of your face.

“No reason,” he promised, “I just really love you is all.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” Javier gently interrupted your thoughts as you pulled you back into reality. You hadn’t realized that you’d zoned out and were staring at a small family that was nearby. It was a couple, flanked by their small daughters, both of which sported dark curls and soft dark eyes. You couldn’t help but think about yourself and Javi; perhaps one day that would be you as well. 

“Nothing,” you shied away from his question as you finished off the beer you were sharing while he polished off the sugary treat, “it’s silly.”

Almost as if he was able to read your mind, he turned to look at the happy little family as they started to walk away. You gave him a sheepish smile as he reached over and grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, “hopefully they’ll take after you.”

“Nope,” you grinned at him, “I hope they take after you, Javier Peña! Especially with those curls and those soft eyes, and that smile. Whatever way - they’d be lucky to have you as a father.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “they’ll be lucky to have a mother like you.”

“One day,” you said softly as he nodded in agreement, “one day.”

“Yes,” he promised, his heart already fluttered at the idea of your future children. He’d never given much thought to children, not before you anyway, but now? Now it was something he wanted just as much as he wanted to marry you. Who would have thought? Then again, he’d never expected you to make an appearance or just an impact on his life either. But here you were…”come on, let’s go play some games. I saw you eyeing that little hedgehog earlier!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"All I have to do is throw the silly little ball into one of those big cups?" you asked, looking between Javier and the game attendant, as both men nodded. You took the bucket of balls that Javier had purchased, sure this would be an easy win. Plucking out the first one, you spied the lucky cup as you got lined up your shot.

"Don't get too confident," Javier smirked at you as he leaned against the counter. You scoffed lightly before dramatically pulling your arm back and making a show of shooting your first shot. It had to go in, there was no chance that it wouldn't and yet...nope..it bounced off the rim of the cup and landed in the space next to it.

"No way!" you groaned in disbelief as Javier tried not to laugh too loudly, his shoulders shaking with effort, "that totally should have gone in!"

"Try again, Dulzura," he insisted softly as you huffed lightly, "I'm sure you'll get it."

"Duh," you insisted with a smirk as you took another shot. This one, just like the last, hit the rim of the cup and then fell away from it, "umm...this is rigged! It has to be!"

"You've got plenty more tries," the attendant nodded towards your bucket, "surely one of them has to go in."

"It can and it will," you huffed as you tossed another ball, this one missing even worse than the last. Biting your lip, you held back a groan as Javier watching in amusement, "fuck!"

"Baby, there's children around," he almost doubled over in laughter at your reaction but you quickly flipped him the bird as you went back to your little game, "I didn't know you were so competitive!"

"Always," you insisted, "I always get what I want - I got you after all didn't I?"

"Yeah," he agreed with a goofy little grin, "you did. Go on and win big."

Even with his best wishes, you couldn't seem to get it right. It was another 17 tries and none of them got close. It seemed like it kept getting worse and worse with each successive throw. 

Once the balls were all used up, you groaned heavily, as the attendant took the empty bucket back. 

"Fancy another round?" he asked as you pouted at Javier. He shook his head as he came over and put his arm around your shoulder.

"We're good," Javier kissed the side of your head as he led you away and you sighed lightly, "its alright, Dulzura. Those games are set up for you to lose."

"I know," you looked around at some of the other games, a smile working its way back on your features as you watched all the kids laughing and screaming. Your eyes quickly found another game that intrigued you - this one where you had to aim water from a blaster at a small target in order to fill up the meter first. You weren't about to say anything, deciding it wasn't worth the time, and were ready to move on.

"Do you want to play?" Javi nudged his head in the direction of the game as you slowly nodded, "I saw that look in your eyes."

"I wasn't going to ask!" you laughed as he took your hand and led you over. 

"Because you know I'll kick your ass," he insisted as plopping down on one of the worn stools before beckoning for you to do the same. You quickly obliged as he paid, taking a hold of the mounted water pistol and aiming and trying to line it up with the target, "ready? Whoever fills the meter with water first wins."

"You're going down," you stuck your tongue out at him as the attendant unlocked the pistols and water began shooting out.

Quickly enough the two of you were laughing and giggling like maniacs as you both tried to win, playfully cursing each offer. It was hard not to get lost in Javi's laugh and excitement; it was also nice to see him so carefree and unfiltered.

"You're losing baby," he teased as you pulled yourself out of your head and adjusted your aim. His meter was almost at the top as yours was filled a measly halfway. You should have known better than to challenge a man with copious shooting experience. 

"You're a cheater," you insisted when he won a few seconds later, looking over at you with a victorious smirk, "this was a set up!"

"Nope," he insisted as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips, "you got distracted."

"Ugh," you teased as he helped you off the stool and the game attendant told him to pick out a prize. Javier feigned great interest as he walked around the whole booth, looking thoughtfully before calling the woman over. He whispered something in her ear before she nodded and he dashed off. You watched him in confusion, but stood there and waited.

It wasn't long before you heard footsteps behind you and he whispered, "close your eyes."

You obliged, making a show of holding your hands to your eyes as he shuffled around, "Javier…"

"Fine! Open," you slowly opened your eyes back up and when you did, all you saw that stuffed little hedgehog that you had spotted earlier in his hands. You looked between the plush and him as he slowly nodded and you grabbed it, holding it tightly to your chest, "I can play nice."

"Javi," you whispered softly, "you're too much. Thank you...I-I love you. So much."

"I know," he put his arm around your shoulder and you wrapped yours around his waist, "I love you too. But right now you're just saying that because of the hedgehog."

"I love you before then," you laughed, "and long after! Now, there's one more thing I want to do."

"Oh?"

"The tunnel of love!" you insisted with a wicked grin, "and excuse to sit in the dark on a dinky boat and make out like horny teenagers."

"Perfect," he agreed as he threw his head back with laughter, "fuck - I love you, baby."

"I love you, Javier Peña," you promised as you grabbed his hand and practically ran towards the line, "now come on!"

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[fangirlwriting-stories]

Star-Crossed

Summary: Virgil has known since he was little that some day he's supposed to meet his soulmate and fall in love with them.  You're supposed to date, then fall in love, and eventually ride off into the sunset to the sound of wedding bells and a happy life in front of you.  You're supposed to look forward to meeting your soulmate.  You're supposed to plan your life around them, because you're supposed to want to.

He's not sure what exactly you're supposed to do when someone else gets there first.

There’s a way these things work, Virgil knows.  Of course, everyone’s story is different, because people aren’t made with perfect cookie cutters.  But there’s a general way that these things work.  It involves meeting your soulmate, getting to know them, dating and falling in love, ending with a wedding at an appropriate age.  You’re supposed to be tailor made for each other, your love story written in the stars, to the point where communication is easy and problems aren’t hard to overcome.  Now, that’s of course not how it always works in real life, because people are complicated and problems can be just that.  But it’s supposed to be relatively easy to ride the wave to your happy ending, wedding bells and cheers and riding off into the sunset.

For most of his life, Virgil had craved that ease.  Relationships that didn’t come pre-packaged for success were hard, and he wasn’t very good at them.  It took him until eleventh grade to make any friends.  But even when he did, they were proof that soulmates made everything easier.

Roman, Patton, and Logan had the kind of soulmate story people dream about.  The three of them had been best friends since childhood and started dating in their early teens.  They’d had their general share of problems throughout the years, but overall they were good.  Their story made them popular too, and Virgil couldn’t imagine why they’d taken him under their wing, but here he was.

With popularity-by-association came pressure, though, and Virgil couldn’t name the number of times he’d panicked about what would happen if he didn’t live up to the soulmate story of his friends.  It was what they expected of him, in the way that they never said outright, but Virgil could tell they were thinking it.  He knew for a fact it’s what his parents expected of him, as unlike his friends, they had said it outright.  He wondered why exactly they felt the need to make that clear.  Did they know something?

Because in the end, that was the point, wasn’t it.  Nowhere in the general “way these things work”  did your soulmate story allow you to be here, in your crumbling backyard treehouse, wrapped in the arms of someone you love but shouldn’t as they kissed your damn brains out.

Virgil couldn’t give an exact name for what he and Janus were.  They weren’t quite dating, but they definitely weren’t just friends, if the way Janus’ hand was tangled up in his hair and pulling him closer had anything to say about it.  He did know that Janus made him feel alive, in a way he’d never quite gotten from anywhere else.  He wouldn’t trade Patton, Logan, and Roman for anything, but there were times the expectations they came with made him terrified.  His parents made him feel more trapped than anything else, though he didn’t think that’s what they intended.  But here, with Janus, he felt like the world could burn, and as long as he had Janus there with him, he would be perfectly content to just watch.

Virgil shifted enough to see the outside of the treehouse, and pulled his head up slightly.  “Janus,” he murmured.

“What, I’m busy,” Janus murmured back, shifting his lips on Virgil’s neck.  Virgil gasped and pulled in a breath.

“Janus,” he said again, though his voice sounded significantly higher than a second ago.  “The sun’s rising.”

“Oh, my, alert the media,” Janus said, moving up from his neck to capture Virgil’s lips again.

Virgil pulled back.  “You can’t keep kissing me to shut me up,” he said.

“But it works so well,” Janus crowed, leaning back in.

“Janus,” Virgil groaned, but wrapped his arms around him anyway, letting them both move back slowly onto the floor.

“You have to go, you know,” he murmured in a moment he pulled back to breathe.

“Mmm, I can’t convince you to stay just another half hour?”  He kissed the corner of Virgil’s mouth and Virgil held back a whine.

“You are very persuasive,” he muttered.

“Ah, one of the many reasons you love me,” Janus said, moving to the other corner of his mouth.

“I’ll love you less if we get caught out here,” Virgil said.  “You know how early my dad gets up.”

“Really?  Getting caught during one makeout session, that’s all it takes?”  He pulled Virgil up closer to him, wrapping his arms around his back.

“Janus,” Virgil said, pushing him backwards.  “It’s not about that and you know it.”

Janus sighed, dropping his head onto Virgil’s chest.  “You ruined it with seriousness, Virgil,” he whined.

“It’s going to be ruined with a lot more seriousness if you don’t go,” Virgil said, trying to ignore the way that Janus’ lips still looked so very tempting.

Janus had to have noticed his staring, because he smirked and leaned back in.  “Yes, and it seems like you want me to leave so much,” he whispered, right before connecting their lips yet again.

Virgil heard the soft click of a lightswitch, easy to hear with nothing else going on— well, with only one other thing going on.

Virgil pushed Janus back more firmly.  “Janus,” he said.  He looked over towards the house, where the kitchen light had just come on.

Janus sighed, and laid back down on top of Virgil.  “Curse your early bird of a father.”

“Yeah, he’s the worst,” Virgil said, only half joking.  “I’ll see you on Monday, alright?”

“How ever will I last,” Janus said with a smirk, leaning in one last time and kissing Virgil much more gently, the way he did goodbyes.

Virgil returned the kiss as Janus sat them both up, and pulled back a second later.  “Text me when you get home,” he said.

“I will,” Janus agreed, moving to climb down the treehouse ladder.  Virgil watched him go for a second before leaving himself, climbing across the tree branch that led through his open window.  He made it just in time to look out his window and spot Janus leaving through the gate towards his front yard.  He paused and looked up at Virgil first, giving him a sloppy salute as if saying “There, I did what you wanted.”  Then he turned and vanished into the early morning.

Virgil smiled to himself and sank down against his windowsill.  God, he loved that idiot.

He waited until he got a text half an hour later that Janus made it home before climbing into bed.  It would still be a while before he fell asleep, though, the buzzing feeling Janus left him with made him feel too alive for that.

Not for the first time, Virgil wished that the “way these things work” was something different.

…

“I’m just saying,” Roman said, his arm looped through Logan’s as the three of them walked to class.  “That if you’re going to give students an assignment over break you deserve nothing less than death.”

“Agreed,” Virgil said.

Logan shook his head at them both in disbelief.  “We are students,” he said.  “Our entire job is to learn.  If the teachers have assignments to grade over break, shouldn’t students have something to work on too?”

“No,” Roman said.  “It’s the teachers job to grade assignments.”

“Did you miss the part where I said learning is our job?”

“I don’t see myself getting paid for this shit,” Virgil muttered.  “And I don’t want to write a whole damn essay over break.  I don’t care if ‘learning is my job’ or whatever you think.  The whole point of a break is a vacation.”

“It’s just one essay,” Logan said, raising an eyebrow.  “You can get it done and still have a vacation.”

“Logan, your ‘I can write essays in an hour’ thing is kicking in again,” Roman said.  “It takes most people longer to write an essay than it takes you.”

Virgil didn’t catch Logan’s response, having instead caught Janus’ eyes on the side of the hallway.  Janus looked at him as he passed and smirked, giving Virgil just enough time to think about how absolutely gone he was for this boy before he passed behind them.

“Virgil?”

Virgil jerked around to face Roman.  “What?”

“Don’t you agree?”

Virgil blinked.  “Oh, yeah, absolutely.”

“See!” Roman exclaimed, spinning to Logan like that won the whole argument.  Virgil was happy to help.

They both continued the argument that Virgil had lost all interest in until they reached the lunchroom, where Patton was already sitting at their usual table.

Virgil pulled his phone out as he sat down, because if he’d passed Janus… yep.

 Janus: So how are the universe’s favorite love birds doing

 Virgil rolled his eyes.

 Virgil: You don’t always have to act like you hate them you know

Janus: Excuse you?  They are the worst.  I despise them and everything they stand for

Virgil: They also happen to be the only people who actually tried being my friends

Janus: Ugh

Janus: You and your hatred of loneliness

Virgil: If you want to talk to them they wouldn’t hate it you know

Janus: And surround myself with soulmate perfection stories all the time?  Please

 Virgil sighed.  They both knew he could see right through Janus.  While Virgil now had three close friends and gained the friendliness of everyone else by association, he remembered the things that you said when you didn’t have anyone and were trying to convince yourself you were okay with that.  “As if I want to surround myself with soulmate perfection all the time” was up near the top of the list.  Virgil had said it more than a couple times himself before he realized the soulmate perfection people were actually pretty nice.

“Hey, Virgil, whatcha looking at?”

…About most things.

“Nothing,” Virgil said, putting his phone back in his bag.  “Just making notes of assignment stuff.  Roman’s right, an essay assignment over break is BS.”

“Right?” Roman said, and started launching into his complaints.  Virgil sat back in relief and listened to him start to rant, rubbing his thumb over his phone case in his pocket.

He had other reasons to hate the essay assignment.  He and Janus had been planning what to do over spring break for months.  Janus had gotten his mother’s permission to take the car and go with a friend on a couple of day trips, so long as they didn’t like, leave the state or something.  Virgil had been looking forward to going somewhere fun with Janus, exploring the places Janus had picked out, finding places to be alone… maybe pretending to be soulmates.

Virgil looked down at the name on his wrist and sighed, wishing once again that it said something other than Ethan Baker.

Virgil went through the rest of the day trying to figure out a way to finish that essay before break.  He had a week, but he had other assignments due before break.  He could probably ask Logan for help, come to think of it.  He texted Logan after school as he was heading out to Roman’s car.  Logan stayed after most days to tutor.

 Virgil: Hey, could I maybe stay after Thursday to work on my essay with you

Logan: Sure, I don’t have any tutoring on Thursday.  Try and have an outline and an argument decided on by then, okay?

Virgil: Will do

 Virgil slipped his phone back into his pocket and glanced up as he approached Roman and Patton, who were standing outside Roman’s car waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he said as he ended up in front of them.  “Trying to figure out how to get an actual break.”

“Do you have a plan?” Roman asked, getting into the driver’s seat as Patton took the passenger and Virgil got into the back.

“Yeah, I’m meeting up with Logan on Thursday to write the essay.”

“Oh, can I join?”

“You should ask, but I’m sure he won’t mind,” Patton said.  “I need a treat.  Anyone else want ice cream?”

“Sign me up,” Roman said as he started to back up.  “Jenny’s?”

“Absolutely,” Virgil agreed.  Jenny’s was their favorite ice cream place.  He wanted to find a way to take Janus some day.

Patton texted Logan to meet them there when he was done with tutoring, and then they all headed there.

Virgil grabbed his notebook once they got there and started writing down ideas for his essay in between bites of ice cream.  By the time Logan got there, he had a couple ideas to narrow down, and he pulled out his phone to text Janus.

 Virgil: You don’t have any assignments over break, do you?

Janus: Fuck no.  What monsters do you have as teachers?

Virgil: Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it handled.  Just making sure you’re ready for our trips too

…

Turns out, Janus had quite a few good spots to go to, with different goals in mind.  They went to ice rinks, outlet malls with Hot Topic, and a state park all within the same week.  The park ended up being Virgil’s favorite.  It was filled with giant rocks that people were encouraged to climb on.  They found a high up rock tucked in between trees overlooking a river, and stayed there for hours appreciating the view, and appreciating… other things.  If anyone saw them, the names on their wrists were covered, and people were much more likely to assume they were soulmates than otherwise.

It was as they were getting into the car to leave the park that Virgil turned to Janus.  “Janus?”

“Hmm?”

“We can’t pretend we’re not dating anymore, can we?”

Janus huffed a laugh.  “I don’t think we can,” he said.  “Not really.”

“Should we talk about that?”

“What part of it?”

“You know what part, Jan.”

Janus sighed.  “No, Virgil,” he said.  “I’m not going to force you to tell everyone now just because we’ve admitted we’re dating.  Believe it or not, I like things as they are.”  He leaned over and kissed Virgil as if to make his point.  Virgil’s hands drifted to hold the sides of his face as he kissed him back.

“Hey,” Virgil murmured as Janus pulled away to breathe.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Janus replied easily, like he barely had to think about it, and Virgil pulled him closer as sparks lit inside his chest.  It was going to be awhile before they left the park.

…

“What about that hotel, we could stop there.”

“We are not stopping at a hotel, dumbass,” Virgil said, shoving Janus’ head from the side.  “These are supposed to be day trips.”

“Oh, Virgil, how could you deny me the chance to spend a night with you?” Janus asked, throwing a hand up to his forehead as if this was some huge betrayal.

“Don’t you have to be 18 to be able to buy a hotel room anyway?” Virgil pointed out, crossing his arms and smirking.

“Hmm.  Fair enough.  I know a motel a couple miles away, we could try that.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the same deal.”

“I have a fake ID in the glove box.”

“You what?” Virgil laughed, pulling open the glove box to see that Janus was right.  “Why are we going to a motel and not a hotel if you have a fake ID?”

“So what I’m hearing is we can go to a hotel!”

“Janus!” Virgil groaned, trying to stop smiling.

“What, it’s not like we have school again tomorrow.  We’re not needed anywhere.”

“Yes, well as technically true as that is, tomorrow is still the day we all meet up at Roman’s house to set up the pool and swim.”

All of the mirth faded instantly from Janus’ face.  “Oh.”

“Hey, what?” Virgil asked, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.

“Nothing.  You’re allowed to have other friends,” Janus said, sounding sincere in that.

Virgil sighed.  “Except I never get to see you as is,” he muttered.  “Right?”

“Well… yes,” Janus admitted.

Virgil reached over and grabbed Janus’ hand on top of the steering wheel.  “Come with me, then.  I’ll ask them if you can come.  I’m sure they’ll say yes.”

“Oh?  And what will you say?  ‘Hey, are you three with your perfect fairy tale story ending cool with me bringing my boyfriend that isn’t my soulmate over to your house?”

“Well of course I wouldn’t say that,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.  “I’ll probably say you’re a friend I’ve met.”

Janus sighed and shook his head.

“Janus,” Virgil said, checking to make sure no other cars were around before pulling his hand onto the middle console.  “Come with me.  You can wear a swimsuit and look hot and make me wish I could come over and kiss your face off.”

Janus gave him a look, and Virgil could see his answer before he said it.

“Maybe another time, Virgil,” he said, pulling his hand away and putting it back on the wheel.

They made the rest of the trip home in silence, and after a while Virgil leaned on the window and fell asleep.

…

“LOGAN, LOOK OUT!” was all the warning that Logan got before Roman landed right on top of him and sent them both underwater.  Virgil started swimming over to them instantly, but both heads popped out of the water before he got there, though Logan was rubbing his and looked in pain.

“Do you never look before you leap into pools?” Logan asked, glaring at Roman.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Roman said, grabbing Logan’s head and starting to look it over.  “Here, I can kiss it better.”

“That is not how medical care works,” Logan said, as Roman kissed the area of his head he’d landed on.

“Oh for goodness sake, specs, I’m being sweet.” Roman said, continuing to look his head over.  “You look okay.  You want to get out for a minute?”

“I am alright.  I think a headache is forming after that, but I don’t feel I need medical attention.”

“Medical attention?  What happened?” Patton called, emerging from the house with a platter of various snacks.

“Roman was being the idiot he usually is and leapt right on top of Logan instead of just into the water,” Virgil said, swimming back over to lean against the side of the pool.

“Oh my goodness, are you two okay?” Patton said, setting the platter down and rushing over to the side of the pool.

“We’re alright, Patton,” Logan reassured, catching Patton’s hands before they could start fluttering over him in worry.  “Neither of us are seriously injured.”

“Good,” Patton muttered, kissing Logan quickly, and then moving on to do the same for Roman.  Virgil looked away, trying not to feel bitter.  He looked over at his phone, sitting over by his clothes, and debated going over to call Janus and make him get his ass over here.

He missed his boyfriend.  How had he gotten so used to seeing him every day so quickly?

The sound of people climbing out of the pool roused his attention, and Virgil saw Patton waving him over for the snacks he’d brought.  He pushed himself out of the pool and headed over to eat them, trying to push Janus out of his mind.

“You know, I heard there was going to be a new student coming to school after break is over,” Logan said.

“Ugh, of course you care about stuff like that,” Roman said, rolling his eyes and giving Logan an endeared smile.

“No, there was something about him.  His name sounded familiar, but I’m not sure why.”

“What’s his name?” Patton asked, popping a grape in his mouth.

“Um… Ethan, I think.  Ethan Baker.”

Virgil’s blood ran cold.  “What?”

Logan glanced over at him.  “What?”

“Oh my gosh, Logan!” Roman exclaimed.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  That’s Virgil’s soulmate, you dummy!”

Logan’s confused look cleared.  “Oh, that’s why it sounded familiar,” he said.  “Well, congratulations, Virgil.  Unless it’s a different Ethan Baker, it sounds like you might get to meet your soulmate soon.”

Virgil stood up suddenly and stumbled a few steps back.

“Virgil?” Patton asked, standing up and looking concerned again.  “Are you alright?”

“Um,” Virgil said, still moving backwards.  “I—”

Roman jumped up.  “Virgil, stop, you’re going to—”

The ground disappeared from under Virgil’s feet and his heart leapt into his throat a second before he hit the water, thankfully in a deep enough part of the pool that he didn’t hit his head on anything.

Maybe he could just stay down here and never have to face the reality that Logan just presented him with.

Unfortunately, a hand reached down into the water and pulled him upwards until he was above the surface and looking at Roman’s concerned face.

“Are you alright?” Roman asked, helping him out of the pool and sitting down next to him.

Virgil yanked his hand away and wrapped his arms around himself.  “Fine,” he muttered.  “I’m fine.  Everything’s fine.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton said, sitting on his other side.  “I get it.”

Virgil looked over at him.

“It’s okay,” Patton said, smiling.  “Of course meeting your soulmate is scary.  I was scared when I met Roman and Logan.”

“You were a kid,” Virgil pointed out.

“And?  You’re not allowed to be scared because you’re a little older than I was?  Virgil, it’s alright.  No one is going to blame you for being scared.  You don’t even have to meet him right away if you don’t want to.”

Something in Virgil’s chest lightened at the thought.  “I don’t?”

“Well, I wouldn’t conceal it from him,” Logan said, sitting down on the other side of Patton.  “You should tell him who you are.  But if you’re not ready for a relationship or even a friendship you can tell him that.”

“I can?” Virgil asked, as his heartbeat continued to slow.

“Oh, kiddo, of course,” Patton said, grabbing Virgil’s hand and squeezing it.

“This is your soulmate, Virge,” Roman said, and Virgil glanced over at him.  “You’re matched up for a reason.  He’s going to understand if you’re not ready.  And even if things are bumpy, it’ll be alright eventually.  I mean just look at my parents.”

Virgil wasn’t sure what Roman’s parents had to do with anything.  Roman had two dads who seemed as in love as any other soulmates Virgil had ever seen.

“Just relax, Virgil,” Roman said with a smile, cutting off his thoughts.  “There’s no reason to freak out before you even meet the guy.  You don’t know what he’ll be like.  Just keep that in mind.”

Virgil leaned forward and rested his head on his knees.  “Okay,” he murmured.  “I’ll do that.”

“These things tend to work themselves out, kiddo,” Patton said.  “That’s what soulmates are all about.”

Virgil’s test tightened again.  That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.

…

“Okay, I got your frantic text,” Janus said, pulling himself up into the treehouse.  “What’s going on?  Why are we meeting tonight when school starts again tomorrow?”

Virgil was grateful in the moment that he must have looked outwardly anxious in his position of being tucked against the back wall with his arms around his knees, because otherwise Janus definitely would have made some kind of joke about him being just that irresistible.

“There’s a new student coming to school after the break,” Virgil said.  “Named Ethan Baker.”

Janus shut his eyes and let out a long, slow breath.  He clearly knew what that meant.  He moved across the treehouse and sat in front of Virgil.  “Okay.  What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean what do I want to do?” Virgil asked, staring at him.  “Janus, I want him not to come.”

“Yeah.  I figured.  But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s coming.  So what do you want to do?”

Virgil didn’t have an answer.  He didn’t want to think about it, or have to make this decision.  He didn’t want his parents to reject him.  He didn’t want Patton and Logan and Roman to hate him.  He didn’t want to go back to being alone and friendless, and especially not while dating someone who wasn’t his soulmate.  He’d be ostracized, and even when he was lonely, he hadn’t dealt with any level of vitriol.  But the issue was that, at the same time…

He wanted Janus.  He wanted this, stolen nights in a broken down treehouse and day trips over spring break and Janus’ wit and sarcasm and hatred for all things soulmates.  He just didn’t know if that want was strong enough to override all of the things that he didn’t want.

“I want…” he said after a moment.  “I want to meet him.  Who knows, maybe he’s an asshole who can fuck right off.”

“Maybe,” Janus said, in a tone that said ‘hopefully,’ but also in a way that meant he didn’t really believe that.

“Look,” Virgil said.  “What I want is to not decide anything before I meet him.  Let’s just do things like normal.  I’ll see you here on Friday.”

Janus looked at him for a moment, and nodded.  He turned as if about to leave, and suddenly Virgil wanted to scream at him to stop.  That would have been incredibly stupid, though, so instead he reached out and grabbed Janus’ arm.

Janus turned back to face him.

“What was that you said about wanting to spend a night with me?” Virgil asked, trying on a wobbly smile.

“I meant under different circumstances,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yes, but…” Virgil tried to figure out a way to say Don’t leave me like this without using those exact words.

Janus seemed to read it in his face.  “Okay,” he said, and he turned back around, thank god.  “But I’m not sleeping in a treehouse.”

Virgil nodded.  “Follow me,” he said, and climbed back across the branch into his bedroom, showing Janus where to put his hands and feet.

Janus dropped quietly down into the bedroom after him, and suddenly soulmates were gone from his mind, and the only thing Virgil could think about was that Janus was in his room.

When was the last time he’d cleaned up again?

Janus was smiling as he looked around.  “Wow, Virgil, you’re a regular neat freak, aren’t you?”

“Shut uuuup,” Virgil groaned, shoving his shoulder and stepping over various items as he started towards his bed.  Janus followed, and toed off his shoes at the edge.

“Here,” Virgil said, taking a short detour to his dresser and handing Janus one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants to sleep in.  He crawled into bed as Janus changed, and then joined him a minute later, wrapping his arms around his waist.  Virgil leaned back against him.

“I set an alarm so I’ll get up and leave,” Janus said.

“Okay,” Virgil murmured.  He was quiet for a minute.  “Hey Janus?”

“Hmm?”

“I still love you.”

“I love you too,” Janus whispered, kissing the top of Virgil’s head, which made Virgil feel warm in an entirely different way from how he felt after a makeout session.  He fell asleep still warm all over.

…

Virgil recognized Ethan by finding his name on his wrist, which really just felt like one more way for the universe to laugh at him.  But Logan was right.  He couldn’t just hide from Ethan the fact that he was his soulmate.  So instead, he walked up and tapped him on the shoulder, feeling like he was sealing his fate.

Which he supposed, in a way, he was.

Ethan turned with a slightly curious smile.  “Hello,” he said.

“Ethan Baker?”

Ethan nodded, looking more curious.

“Uh,” Virgil waved his wrist.  “I’m Virgil Storm.”

Ethan’s eyes widened.  “Oh.  Oh, my goodness!”

“Yeah,” Virgil muttered, trying to make his smile look happier than he felt.

“Well, hi!” Ethan said, starting to smile much wider.  “It’s so lovely to meet you, Virgil!  I never would have thought—”  The warning bell rang overhead.

“Oh, damn that thing,” Ethan muttered, looking up at it.  “I wish we had more time to talk.”

“What class do you have?” Virgil asked.

“Uh… Holden.  English.”

Virgil tried to smile wider.  “Well, I’ve got good news then.  That’s my class too.  Want to walk with me?”

“Oh, awesome!” Ethan said.  “Yes, please!  It’s so good to meet you!”

“You too,” Virgil said, falling into step beside Ethan as they started down the hallway.

Come on, Virgil.  Give the guy a chance.  Maybe this will all work out fine and he is an asshole.  Maybe he’s about to say something super dick-ish right now.  Here it comes.

Ethan beamed over at him.  “I should have known you’d be even more gorgeous than I pictured,” he said.

Goddammit.

…

Ethan wasn’t an asshole, by any stretch of the imagination.  Virgil really tried, he tried so hard to hate him.  It should be easy, he was an expert at hating people for no reason!  He tried twisting all of Ethan’s words and actions into the most despicable light he could manage.  But Ethan was just too damn sweet.

He was gentle and caring.  His smile could light up a room.  He got along perfectly with all of Virgil’s friends.  Virgil was pretty sure he tried harder than anything else he’d ever done in his life, but he just couldn’t hate him.  Why couldn’t he hate him?  Was this the universe fucking with him?  Was there some kind of genetic thing that kicked in that made people incapable of hating their soulmates?

Or was Ethan just that fucking nice?

Either way, Virgil couldn’t hate the guy.  He wanted to, but he couldn’t.  Maybe that was why he was hiding here.  Virgil looked up from the stage, glad at least that the auditorium was big as well as empty.

He just couldn’t go back to class, where everyone would be staring at him and Ethan like all of their future problems were solved now.  He buried his head in his knees.  He wanted to get out of here.

He didn’t register any kind of bell ringing, but one must have, because doors opened and people started coming in, and Virgil remembered that there were drama classes in the auditorium.  He jumped up and headed backstage, trying to control his now much worse breathing.  He’d be fine, he just had to last until everyone starting doing things and then he could—

“Virgil?”

Of course.  Of course he would be here.

“Hey,” Ethan said, coming backstage.  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Virgil shook his head.  “No,” he choked out.  “No, I don’t want—”  He yanked his hood over his head and pulled hard on the strings until his face was obscured.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to tell me.  Just come here, alright?  People are going to be coming back here soon.”

Virgil grabbed onto his hand when it was offered because he didn’t know what else to do, and they ended up in what looked like a prop area underneath the stage.

“Hey, breathe with me, okay?  I’m gonna count to four, try and breathe in.  It’s okay if you can’t make it all the way there.”

He started doing that, and waited so damn patiently until Virgil finally managed to calm down, and the whole time he didn’t make a single sudden move, and Virgil wished that he wanted him to leave.

When Virgil was breathing normally again, Ethan just smiled gently and leaned back.  He didn’t ask a damn thing about what happened.  He just said “You okay?” in a way that meant it would be totally fine if the answer was no.

Virgil took a shaky breath and nodded.  “Thank you,” he whispered, because Ethan was good at that, and he hadn’t met another person who knew how to do anything like this before he told them.

“Of course,” Ethan said with a nod.

“How did you know what to do?” Virgil asked.

“My little sister gets panic attacks sometimes.  I wanted to learn how to help her, so I did some research.”

Virgil nodded.  “Guess that’s lucky,” he muttered.  He looked up at Ethan.  “Ethan?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you want from this?”

Ethan looked confused.  “From what?”

“Me.  What are you looking for?”

“Well, a soulmate,” Ethan said, like that should be obvious.  “I don’t want to start dating you if you’re not ready, of course, but eventually.  I— I like you, Virgil,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he started to blush.  “I’d love a relationship with you once you’re ready.”

What if I’m never ready, Virgil didn’t say.  He shut his eyes and leaned back against the wall behind him.

“Virgil,” Ethan said, and Virgil opened his eyes again.  “If you are not ready to date me, we don’t have to date yet.  Is that what you’re panicking about?”

“I… don’t know,” Virgil lied.

“I’m not going to rush you,” Ethan said, taking a small step forward.  “Or push you.  I want to move at a pace we’re both comfortable with, and if that means I have to wait, I’m okay with that.  For now, I would be more than happy to be your friend, Virgil Storm.”

Virgil looked back at his soulmate, with the universe stamp of approval.  It was the ‘for now’ part of that statement he was going to have issues with.  But then again, maybe for now… that would be fine.

…

Virgil’s entire body melted with relief when Janus appeared in the doorway of the treehouse.

“Janus,” he said, climbing up and moving across to meet him.  He started to pull Janus down into a kiss, only to be stopped by Janus pushing back a second later.

“Janus?”  He stopped moving when he noticed the look on Janus’ face.  “Janus, what’s wrong?”

“Virgil, we need to talk,” Janus said.

“Oh, hardly,” Virgil said, starting to smile.  “I have good news.  Ethan says we don’t have to date if I’m not ready.  And I’m not.  So…”  He leaned up to pull Janus down to him again.

Janus sighed and pushed him back.  “Virgil.”

Virgil stopped smiling.  “What?”

“Did you miss the not ready part of that sentence?” Janus said, sitting down across from him.  “He definitely wouldn’t be comfortable with you dating other people in the meantime.”

Virgil scowled.  “I don’t owe him anything.”

“Yes, you do.  He’s your soulmate.”

“And since when does that kind of thing matter to you?  Part of the whole damn reason you fell for me is because I’m not your soulmate.  You hate soulmates.”

“But you don’t,” Janus said, looking firmly at him.  “Virgil, I saw you with him.  You don’t hate him.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m in love with him!  I love you.”

Janus sighed.  “Virgil.”

“What?”

“You can’t possibly see yourself falling for him?  There’s no chance you could end up in love with him even more than you are with me?”

Virgil leaned back.  “What— Janus.  It’s not about that.”

“What’s it about then, Virgil?  Come on, he seems made for you.  That’s what they say soulmates are supposed to be, don’t they?”

Virgil narrowed his eyes.  “I don’t care.”

“Oh, so you don’t care about whether or not your family wants you to be with him?  Or your friends?  Or everyone else?”

Virgil winced.  “That’s different.”

“I’m not going to push you into the limelight like that, Virgil.  You seem uncomfortable now, when you’re doing what everyone expects of you.  If someone found out you were dating me, I…” Janus shook his head, looked more helpless than Virgil had ever seen him before.  “I can’t do that to you,” he finished, shifting backwards slightly.

“Don’t you think that should be my decision?” Virgil said, crossing his arms.

“Well, I’m making it.  I’m sorry.”  Janus stood up and started for the ladder.

“Wh- wait, Janus!” Virgil moved and started climbing down after him, catching his arm before he could run from the backyard.

Janus sighed, then turned and faced him.  “It’s okay,” he said.  “We’ll be okay.  Don’t try and stop yourself from falling for him, Virgil.  I won’t even be a little mad, I promise.”

“Janus, please.”  Virgil tried to pull him back, but Janus wouldn’t budge.  “What— what if I don’t see you again?”

Janus smiled sadly.  “How ever will I last,” he whispered, leaning in one last time and kissing Virgil gently.

The way he did goodbyes.

He pulled his hand out of Virgil’s and ran for the back gate, slipping through it and into the night.

…

When Virgil had no reason to try and dislike Ethan, liking him was much easier.  He was sweet, and very cute when he was excited, which tended to happen whenever he talked about theatre, which was his favorite part of school (he got along well with Roman).  He knew how to help Virgil if he was panicking, and he took an interest in the kinds of things Virgil liked.  Virgil tried so hard to return the favor, but he couldn’t make himself interested for very long.  That… that was okay.  That would change with time.

For all of Virgil’s fears about what having a soulmate would do to his relationship with Janus, now that the worst had happened, having one actually having one wasn’t so bad.  Ethan was easy to care about, and easy to spend time with, even if their interests didn’t always line up.  Virgil would fall in love with him.  He just needed a little more time.

These things worked themselves out, Patton said.  That had to be true.

Virgil’s parents were thrilled to meet Ethan.  His mom got along with him really well, and his dad seemed approving, if his smiles and nods to Virgil were anything to go by.  His mom was astounded when Ethan mentioned they weren’t dating yet.

“Why in the world not?” she asked, looking over at Virgil across the dinner table.

“It’s just… a big step,” Virgil muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I don’t know.”

“Hmm,” his mom said, in the way she did when she thought Virgil was being too anxious about something.  “I suppose that’s fair.  Take your time, of course.”

“It’s not just him,” Ethan said suddenly.  “I don’t want to rush things either.  We both decided to just take it slow.”

Virgil smiled gratefully at him, glad for the save. Ethan gave his hand a quick reassuring squeeze under the table.

They went up to Virgil’s room after dinner, and Ethan seemed concerned.  “Is your mom always that pushy?” he asked, as Virgil shut the door.

“She just… wants me to push myself,” he said.  “She thinks I would be more satisfied if I took more risks, went after what I want.”

“What if you don’t know what you want?” Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“And therein lies the main problem in my relationship with my mother,” Virgil sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Ethan chuckled a little, moving to lean against the wall next to the door.

Virgil worried his lip between his teeth, and looked back at Ethan.  “You’re really okay with moving slowly?”

“Virgil, I told you,” Ethan said, smiling genuinely at him.  “I want you to be comfortable.”

“You want to be with me though,” Virgil said.

“I… do,” Ethan admitted.  “But if you’re not ready for that, I don’t want to rush you.”

Virgil looked at him a moment longer.  Ethan wasn’t bad looking.  Virgil liked him as a person.  Maybe in order to make the switch into liking him romantically, he just had to force it a little.

He took three steps across the room and kissed Ethan square on the mouth.  Ethan made a muffled noise of surprise, and Virgil pulled back instantly.  Idiot, you need to ask before doing something like that, you moron.

“I’m sorry!” Virgil said, stepping back.  “I’m sorry, I just— I—”

Ethan cut him off by reaching up and pulling him back in to kiss him again, and in the moment, all Virgil felt was relief that he hadn’t freaked him out or pissed him off.

He could do this.  He’d done this a hundred times with Janus, he just had to… go through the motions.  Come on, Virgil.  You know what you’re doing.

He pulled Ethan with him as he stumbled back across the room and pulled them both onto his bed, wrapping his arms around his back and trying to push himself a little farther.  He’d start feeling something any second now, he just needed to—

“Okay, okay, woah,” Ethan pushed him back, panting.  “I need to breathe.”

Virgil leaned back.  “Sorry.”

“Hey, no apologies necessary,” Ethan said, grinning at him.  “You… you’re very good at this.”

Virgil felt his cheeks grow warm.  “You wouldn’t guess, huh,” he muttered.

“Absolutely not a bad surprise,” Ethan said.  “It just might be my turn to ask you to slow down a tad.”

Virgil nodded.  “Okay.  You’ve got it.”  He looked down and fidgeted with his fingers.  “Want to watch a movie?”

“That sounds nice,” Ethan said, still looking very happy with the situation.  Virgil leaned over the side of his bed and grabbed his laptop as Ethan sat up.

It’s okay.  It’s okay.  You’ll fall for him.  You just need a little more time.

…

Time passed, and Virgil didn’t fall for him.  He didn’t know what else to do.  He tried to come up with something to make it better, some kind of “at least” to work off of.  At least Ethan was nice.  At least he was pretty.  At least everyone else was happy for him.  At least Janus didn’t hate him.  None of them seemed to work.

Virgil was quickly becoming the soulmate envy of all just like Patton, Roman, and Logan, and feeling absolutely miserable because of it.  He hadn’t shown it, of course.  He’d beamed at Ethan and kissed his cheek before classes and smiled and rolled his eyes in endearment whenever someone asked him how knowing his soulmate felt.

He couldn’t stand it.  He was pretty sure he’d never felt less like himself.  But Patton and Logan and Roman all smiled at him like they thought he was happy, and so did his parents, and so did Ethan, so Virgil tried to brush aside the miserable feeling in his chest and fool himself like he’d fooled everyone else.

He hadn’t expected a change to come from Roman.  With his general romanticism and his perfect soulmate story, he’d expected Roman to be the last person to be able to tell when someone wasn’t happy with theirs.  He’d noticed the occasional suspicious look sent his way by him, but he’d managed to brush it off.  He certainly hadn’t expected Roman to say anything.

On the day he did, Virgil had already been feeling pretty shitty.  It was around lunchtime, Ethan was sitting next to Virgil and smiling at him as they both ate, riveting them all with a story about what had happened during drama class.  Virgil had mastered the art of smiling and nodding along, and that’s what he was doing when he turned at just the wrong time and met eyes with Janus, who looked as miserable as Virgil felt.

His eyes widened when their gazes met, and Virgil tried to think of the last time he’d seen Janus in any way.  Janus was very good at disappearing.

As if proving his point, Janus looked away and disappeared into the crowded room like a ghost.

Virgil stood up and pushed his chair back, saying something about going to the bathroom before all but sprinting from the lunchroom.

About halfway to the bathroom he realized that was a mistake, because it was just going to make Ethan come looking for him, so he veered right to head out to the football field.  He sat on the bleachers and buried his head in his knees, trying to quiet any of his rushing thoughts.

“You are going to seriously hurt someone.”

Virgil jerked upwards and saw Roman walking up the side of the bleachers towards him, arms crossed and looking firm.

Virgil swallowed, recovering his bearings as Roman stopped in front of him.  “What?” he asked.

“Virgil, if you don’t love Ethan you need to tell him that.”

Virgil’s mouth went dry.  “What are you talking about, I do—”

“No.  You don’t.”

Virgil looked away.  “But I have to.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Virgil.  You clearly don’t.”

“But he’s my soulmate.  What… what else is there?” Virgil asked, like he didn’t know the answer to that question by heart.

Roman didn’t reply right away.

Then suddenly, Virgil was pulled up off the bleachers and into a hug.

“Oh, Virgil,” Roman whispered.  “Virgil.  There is so much more if you want it.”

Virgil blinked quickly, trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.  “What?”

Roman leaned back.  “Virgil, what on earth made you think that all soulmate bonds have to be romantic?”

“What— but you— but they are,” Virgil insisted.  “That’s just how soulmates work.”

“Well, that doesn’t seem very fair,” Roman said, smiling gently.  “First of all, aromantic people would be shit out of luck if all soulmate bonds had to be romantic.” Roman’s look turned curious.  “I have told you about my mother before, right?”

“Your mother, what— don’t you have two dads?”

“Not always.  My mother married my father before she realized she didn’t experience romantic attraction.  She ended up divorcing dad, but they’re still close friends.  That’s how their soulmate bond works, but my dads aren’t soulmates.  And mom lives with Remus.  He and I are soulmates, but that’s definitely not romantic.”

“Who’s Remus?” Virgil asked.

“My brother,” Roman said, waving his hand dismissively.  “He and mom live a couple districts over.  He’ll come over here more often on summer vacation and you can meet him.  Point is, soulmate bonds aren’t inherently romantic, nor should they be, in my opinion.”

“But… but you’re in love with Patton and Logan,” Virgil said weakly.

“Because I choose to be, Virgil.  The three of us don’t have to be dating.  I know that’s what most people tend to do, but it’s not fair to expect that of everyone.  What if you don’t want a partner right then?  Or ever?  What if you fall in love with someone who isn’t your soulmate?”

Virgil’s blood ran cold, and he took a step back, almost stumbling into the bleachers.  “Who told you?” he whispered.

Roman’s face fell.  “Oh, Virgil,” he said.  He moved forward and pulled Virgil into a hug again.  “No one told me, Virge.  I’m so sorry.”

Virgil’s breathing started to shake, and he pushed himself back from Roman.  “I thought— I thought you wouldn’t understand,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around himself.  “Because your soulmate story is so perfect.  I thought you wouldn’t—”

“A lot of people don’t,” Roman said quietly.  “I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong for being afraid.  But right now all you’re doing is hurting Ethan, and yourself, and the other person you love.”

Virgil sat down on the bleachers and buried his head in his hands.  Roman, after a moment, sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders.

“I have to break up with him, don’t I,” Virgil muttered.

“I’m not going to tell you what you should do in that regard,” Roman said.  “But I think you should strongly consider telling him what’s going on.”

Virgil nodded.  “I thought I could make myself love him,” he whispered.

“Love doesn’t work like that, Virgil,” Roman whispered.

“It would be easier if it did,” Virgil muttered.

“Yes,” Roman agreed.  “But then you wouldn’t get to have the person you love now.  Is that what you want instead?”

Virgil shook his head instantly.  He hadn’t wanted to lose Janus in the first place.  He didn’t want to trade him for anything.

“Do you want to stay out here for a while?” Roman asked.

“I want you to go get Ethan,” Virgil said firmly.

Roman blinked, seeming surprised.  “Right now?”

Virgil nodded.  “Yes.”

Roman still looked hesitant.  “Are you—”

“I’m sure.”

Roman must have seen he meant it, because a second later he nodded.  “Alright.  I’ll be back.  Um, advice, don’t dance around the subject.  Be straightforward and genuine, but also gentle if you can.”

Virgil nodded.  “Okay,” he said, and Roman left.  Virgil leaned back against the bleachers and took a deep breath.  This wasn’t going to be fun.  It may not be romantic in nature, but he did love Ethan, and he didn’t want to hurt him.  He leaned forward and buried his head in his hands again.  Why had he thought this would last?

“Virgil?”

Virgil jerked upright and spun around, because that wasn’t Ethan’s voice.

Sure enough, there was Janus, standing just at the edge of the bleachers and looking concerned.

Virgil leapt to his feet.  “Where the hell have you been?” he snapped.

“I saw you run off, I wanted to make sure you’re okay—”

“Not what I meant.  You completely ignore my texts and then you avoid me at school?  You asshole.”

Janus turned his hands upwards, looking a little offended.  “What, did you want me to hang around all the time?”

“I didn’t want you to leave in the first place you idiot,” Virgil snapped, jumping down from the bleachers and storming over to stand in front of Janus.  “You were clearly miserable on your own.”

“And you were fine,” Janus said, stepping towards him.  “I was trying not to be selfish for once.”

“Oh, I was fine?” Virgil said, throwing his hands to the sky.  “Janus who’s spent most of these past months avoiding me thinks I was fine.  Never mind then.”

“I thought you wanted to do what everyone expected of you,” Janus snapped.  “It’s not like you ever wanted to fight for me.”

“Oh, fuck you, Janus!  I wanted what everyone expected of me because that made me feel safe.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“No, right now I just want to feel alive again,” Virgil said, moving forward until he was nose-to-nose with Janus.  “Which is kind of hard to do considering I’m starting to spend my whole life going through the motions.”

“Why would you need me to change that?”

“Moron,” Virgil said, and pulled Janus into a kiss, desperate and passionate and making up for all of the months he’d been gone.

They both pulled apart when a gasp came from nearby.

Virgil spun around to see Ethan standing at the edge of the walkway leading up to the field.

“Wait,” Virgil said, stepping towards him.  “Wait, that’s not how this was supposed to happen.  Ethan—”

Ethan spun around but didn’t leave, and Virgil moved across the field until he was right behind him.

“You’re never like that with me,” Ethan murmured.

“I’m sorry, this wasn’t supposed to be how I did this—”

“But you were going to do this.  You were going to leave me for him.  He’s not even your soulmate.”

“I know.  I… I’m sorry.  I do love you, Ethan.  Just not…”

“Not like I love you,” Ethan said, looking over his shoulder at Virgil.

Virgil winced.  “I’m sorry.”

Ethan laughed a little and looked down.  “I think I kinda knew it, you know?  I just wanted… I wanted to be enough for you.  But I was never going to be, was I?”

Virgil started to reach for him, but stopped and dropped his hand.  “I’m sorry,” he said again.  “You can… you can hate me if you want.”

Ethan looked up at him again.  “But you don’t want that.”

“Not everything has to be about what I want,” Virgil said quietly.

Ethan turned to face the school.  “I… I’m going now, Virgil,” he said.  “I’ll call you if I’m ever ready to talk again.”

“Okay,” Virgil whispered.  “Take care, Ethan.”

“You… you too,” Ethan said, and then he walked away.

Virgil watched him until he was gone, and then turned around to face Janus, who was casually looking around back in the middle of the field.  He looked back at Virgil when he started walking across to meet him.

“All good?” Janus asked, like he already knew the answer.

Virgil shook his head.  “No.”

Janus nodded.  “Yeah,” he muttered.

They both looked at each other for a moment.

“Janus?”

“Virgil?”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Janus started grinning, and held out his hand.  Virgil grabbed it, and they both started running.  They made it to Janus’ car, and both got in, and drove.  And drove, and planned to drive some more.

Nothing was fixed.  They’d have to come back and face the music eventually.  Virgil had to tell Patton and Logan what happened.  He’d need to tell Janus about Roman’s parents.  They’d have to figure out a way to make this work, actually work, work in the way they both wanted.

But for now, they rolled down the windows, and drove out of the suburbs and out under the open sky.  Virgil screamed My Chemical Romance lyrics at the top of his lungs.  More than once throughout the drive he checked to make sure no other cars were around and leaned in to kiss Janus’ face off.  He had a lot of lost time to make up for, after all.

And now, hopefully, a lot of time to do it.

Part 2

[marvelship-oneshots]

KING OF MY HEART (STONY)

Here is my second fill for the Royalty AU with KIng!Steve and Prince!Tony of the Stony Trope and AU Bingo by @therollingstonys

Royalty AU where Steve is supposed to marry Peggy for the good of his kingdom but he fals deeply in love with Tony.

It took Tony all of his courage only to walk down the corridor and now that he was standing in front of the door, his heart was racing at 100 miles per hour.

“Here goes nothing” he whispered, before knocking on the door.

He heard steps coming towards the door. Steve finally opened.

“Hey Tony” he greeted with a smile.

He was just in a pair of horse riding pants. Those and nothing else, leaving his toned and muscular chest out in the open for Tony to admire. If he hadn’t forced himself to look away, Tony was sure he would end up drooling.

“Oh, hi Your Majesty” he managed to babble.

“I told you already, drop the formalities” Steve replied laughing.

Steve showed Tony in his room, closing the door behind them.

“What brings you here?” Steve asked, sitting on the bench at the base of his bed. Tony sat next to him, then stood up again and started pacing up and down.

“Is everything ok Tony?” Steve asked, concerned.

“No. Everything is not ok. The opposite of ok, actually”

“Hey what’s wrong?” Steve asked, trying to grab Tony’s wrist.

“Don’t touch me” Tony moved his arm harshly “please” he whispered before Steve sat back in his old place.

“Can you please let me in your head? I can’t help you otherwise”

Tony stopped in front of Steve, playing with his fingers.

“Don’t marry her” Tony whispered in such a loud voice that it was almost impossible to hear.

“What?”

“Don’t marry her. Please, Don’t marry her”

“Tony” Steve whispered with a softness in his voice that Tony had never heard “You know I have to”

“Not until I tried everything”

“Don’t do this Tony. It’s not about me. It’s about the kingdom, the people. I have to marry Peggy”

“I love you, Steve, your Majesty. I’m in love with you”

Steve gulped.

“Don’t say that”

“I’ll keep saying it because it’s true” Tony felt a tear roll on his cheek.

“Don’t. Please. You don’t mean it, it’s not real”

“NO!” Tony screamed a little bit too loud “With all due respect your Majesty, no. You might not love me and that’s ok, but don’t, not even for a little second, dare to tell me that my feelings aren’t real”

Steve opened his mouth to talk.

“Don’t bother. I’ll gather my things and clean my rooms. I'll be gone before the end of the day. I hope it will be a lovely wedding. Farewell, your Majesty”

Tony headed to the door, but before he could put a hand on the handle, he felt something grabbing him by the wrist. Steve spun him around.

“You didn’t let me talk” Steve whispered in a low, raw voice.

“I don’t see what’s left to say. I love you, you don’t love me, and of the story. Now, please let me go so I can get out of your face as soon as possible, your Majesty”

Steve tightened the grip around Tony’s waist.

“It’s starting to sound a hell of a lot like you’re fucking with me Tony, with all of this Your Majesty crap, y’know. But I bet you like it, don’t you? I know I do”

A shiver went down Tony’s spine as he heard the raspiness in his voice.

“Now, how about you let me talk and listen to me huh”

“It’s not really necessary” Tony whispered back.

“You had you time to make a monologue, now let me make mine”

“No, I can’t, I’m sorry” Tony tried to free himself from Steve’s grip.

Steve let go of him, putting a hand on Tony’s hip and turning him to face him. He took in his fist the collar of Tony’s shirt and then lowered himself, pressing their lips together. Steve let go of the shirt, holding on to him by his waist. Tony circled Steve’s neck with his arms, clinging as close as humanly possible.

“Now you’ll listen to me,” Steve asked in between pants once he pulled away, keeping their foreheads together.

“I love you, Tony. I’ll be damned for how much I love you. You understand me?”

Tony murmured a little ‘yes’.

“I didn't quite get that” Steve replied with a malicious smirk.

“Yes, Your Majesty”

“Much, much better” Steve whispered on Tony's lips with a smile.

Steve pushed Tony until he met the edge of the bed with the back of his knees. Then, he pushed just a bit more, to make Tony fall under his weight. Tony’s hands caressed the muscles on Steve’s back. Slowly Steve unbuttoned Tony’s shirt, breaking off the kiss only to kiss collarbones. Then, he moved to the lines of his defined muscles.

Tony unbuttoned Steve’s pants and Steve pulled them down to his ankles, kicking them away, then he managed to help Tony slip out of his. Steve slid a hand into Tony’s brief, tickling Tony’s point already dripping in precum with his thumb.

“Oh God, your Majesty, that's so good,” Tony said in between pants as Steve wrapped his hand around Tony’s member and started stroking.

Steve ripped Tony’s underwear and threw them on the floor, next to the other pile of clothes.

Steve licked his index before sliding it inside of Tony and he felt his walls tighten around it.

“So good, baby, so good” he whispered with a raspy voice in Tony’s ear, just before biting his lobe.

Then, he slid in a second and a third finger, curing them and straightening them in fast sequences. When Tony was stretched enough, Steve pulled his fingers out, licking his tiptoe.

“Oh baby boy, you’re so sweet. Wanna try for yourself?”

Tony vigorously nodded and Steve slid his index and middle finger in Tony’s mouth.

“Please, Steve”

“What do you want, Tony?” Steve took both of their members in his hand and started stroking with a steady pace.

“I want you to fuck me”

“Oh, I see. Is this the way to talk to a King?”

“No, sir, fuck” Tony arched his back when Steve started tapping on his point.

“Then ask properly”

“Steve, Your majesty, my King, please, I want y-you to fuck me, please, my king, please”

Steve let go of their cocks, placing himself by Tony’s entrance.

“That’s more like it, baby”

Standing on his arms, Steve pushed in and stayed firm for a second, letting Tony’s walls adjust to his size.

“God, baby, you’re so tight, just for me”

Steve started pounding, taking Tony’s wrists with one hand and pinning them over his head. He tried to find the right angle and when Tony moaned louder than before, Steve understood that he had found the right place and slowed down.

“My King, please, faster”

“You’re so beautiful when you beg for me, baby boy”

Steve gave two strong thrusts, hitting Tony’s prostate.

“You want faster, and faster you shall have” he whispered, accelerating the pace.

Tony’s vision became blurry and he felt a nice, little shiver, running down his spine. He arched his back and his toes curled, releasing over both his and Steve’s chest. Steve licked the cum from Tony’s stomach, letting go of his hands so that he could hang onto his shoulder and caressed his cheek as his thrusts became slower and sloppier.

He screamed Tony’s name as he filled his hole.

Tony was laying on his stomach, half of his body covered by the luxurious silky sheet. On the other half, Steve was lightly passing his fingertips on the fine lines of Tony’s back muscles.

“We can’t do this anymore” Steve suddenly said.

“What?”

Tony sat on the bed on the other side from Steve.

“Why, Steve?”

Steve tried to put a hand on Tony’s tight.

“Tony, you know. For how beautiful and special this was, it can’t happen again. I’m getting married later today to a fantastic Princess, who I might not be in love with, but who doesn’t deserve a cheating husband”

Tony brushed away a tear that fell on his cheek before Steve could see it.

“Don’t marry her. Marry me”

“Tony, what are you talking about?”

“Marry me, Steve”

“Tony…I’m marrying her because-”

“Yeah, I know why you’re marrying Peggy, you told me. To expand and get protection for your kingdom. I get that, I do.”

“It pains me to ay this Tones, but you can’t give me what I need, maybe what I want, but not what my kingdom needs”

Tony looked at the ceiling and breathed in deeply.

“I can give you what you need, and more”

Steve looked perplexed.

“I am Anthony Stark, son of King Howard”

Tony bit his lip as he stared at Steve as the realization hit him.

“You…oh shoot, I’m sorry, I should have recognised you”

Tony moved his hand.

“Heh, I didn’t even recognise myself until a couple of days ago”

Steve chuckled.

“Wha-what happened to you?”

Tony crawled closer to Steve, snuggling against his chest, hearing his heart beating.

“As you know, my dad died a while ago and, as per his instructions, the Kingdom fell into my godfather’s hands until I got married”

“Obadiah” Steve whispered.

“Yes, him. Now, that was a fucking bad idea. Doesn’t surprise me though. Well, the kingdom, well, let’s say it went through a rough patch, and I wasn’t allowed to meet people, not to get married anyways. Because he knew, he knew that one he got married I would be the rightful King and he couldn’t let that happen”

Steve brushed away one of Tony’s tears that fell on his chest and started caressing the back of his hair. If a tear fell on his cheek as well, that’s not for anyone to know.

“I managed to run away to find myself a nice someone to marry when the storm hit and I forgot who I was. Wanna know something funny though?”

Steve nodded.

“I was actually coming here because I’ve heard that there was a nice, handsome King looking for a spouse”

“Ok, now you just want to get into my graces,” Steve said laughing.

“Mh, maybe. The offer still stands, though”

“To marry you?”

Tony nodded. Suddenly, Steve stopped stroking his hair and his heartbeat accelerated.

“You don’t have to tell me now. If you ever decide to accept it, meet me at Solstice Park at sunset. If you don’t come, I’ll know”

Tony put on his clothes and left a small peck on Steve’s lips and walked to the door.

“Goodbye, Your Majesty” he bowed before walking out.

“Get out of your head, man, you’re getting married” Bucky chuckled, throwing himself on Steve’s bed, waiting for him to get ready.

“Yeah, I’m not sure about that”

“What?” Bucky sat up straight “You can’t change your mind now”

Steve finished closing the buttons of the shirt and put the open tie around his neck, walking to Bucky to let him tie it for him. Then, he went back to his vanity and grabbed his silver cufflinks.

“Steve, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Tony came by earlier and well, we…y’know”

“Ok you had sex, go on”

Steve tied the first cufflink and sat next to Bucky.

“He told me he loves me and well, you know I love him too”

“Yes I do, a bit too well”

“He’s King’s Howard’s son” Bucky’s eyes widened.

“Didn’t he die?”

“Howard, yes. Tony was just benched, I guess. Well, he needs a spouse to get his kingdom back”

“He better find one, because that dude is a douche”

“Buck!”

“What! You know as well as I do that it’s true”

“Yeah that’s not the point, though”

And just like that, Bucky knew that there was something more to it.

“Oh my God, he proposed, didn’t he?”

Steve nodded.

“And you are actually thinking about accepting his proposal, aren’t you?”

He nodded again.

“I don’t know what to do, Buck. What do I do?”

“I can’t tell you what to do. But if you love him I guess you know what to do”

“I need to talk to Peggy”

Steve stood up and rushed to the door.

“You do you, but whatever you decide, remember that I’m with you till the end of the line”

Steve smiled at his best friend and rushed out of the door.

Steve stopped for a couple of seconds to catch his breath before knocking on the door. Behind it, there was the beautiful woman he was meant to marry. He realised that, if Tony hadn’t come along, he would have been really lucky to be her husband. And to have her as his wife. He probably could have tricked himself into marrying her. It wouldn’t have been the same, but arranged marriages worked like that.

Peggy’s lady-in-waiting opened the door, signing to Peggy to move somewhere Steve couldn’t see her.

“Is Princess Peggy here?”

“Oh no, sir. She’s here, but you can’t see her before the wedding, sir, Your Majesty”

“Ma’m, I need to talk to her”

“Cara, let him in” Steve heard a voice coming from inside the chamber.

“Yes, your Highness”

Steve walked in. Peggy was in her under vest fixing her jewels. Her makeup and hair were perfect. She was perfect, Steve noticed, he should have been blind not to see that. He felt bad for basically dumping her, but he couldn’t see his life with anyone else but Tony.

“My King” she bowed.

“Can… we please talk?”

“What’s wrong, Your Majesty?”

“I don’t know how to say this…”

Peggy sat on the edge of her bed, patting the covers next to her, signing to Steve to go sit next to her.

Peggy took Steve’s hand in hers.

“You don't want to marry me, do you?”

Steve shook his head.

“You are amazing and lovely and God, you're beautiful, but…”

“I’m not him. I know. Go marry him, be happy”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry”

“Go, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine”

“He’s not gonna come. Pepper, he’s not coming”

“Calm down Tony, it’s not sundown just yet”

Tony was walking up and down, under the floral arch in the park, playing with the cuffs of the shirt.

“Tony, stop playing with your shirt”

“No Pep, you don’t understand. I have a feeling in my guts that tells me he’s not coming”

“Well- Rhodey got up from his chair, getting on his assigned place under the arch- your guts must be wrong then,” he said pointing at something in front of him.

Tony and Pepper turned in the direction pointed by Rhodey. They saw two horses running towards them.

Steve was riding a beautiful white horse and Bucky was just behind him on a black one.

“Steve, slow down, come here” Bucky screamed, tying the horses to a tree and ran after Steve.

“Come here for the love of God” Bucky whispered when Steve finally stopped.

“You forgot this,” he said, taking a crown from his bag and placing it on Steve’s head.

“Now go and get married,” he said with a smile, patting Steve on the shoulder, as he walked down the lane, towards his love and happiness.

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Finale

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 10 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; slight reference to past sexual abuse; fluff 

Word Count: 6,700+

Author’s Note: Guys... the finale! I’m crying actual tears lmao. Thank you for reading my words. It means the world.

~

The New Compound, July 2025, 7:09pm

      The extra hour of sunlight this time of year was the easiest excuse to use for lounging on the roof to watch the sun set slowly. The compound no longer touches the clouds, but it still provides a rich view of the landscape across. There is no blowing of horns or shouts of the road hecklers; it’s a simple hour of solace to rest your chin against your arms, eat your snacks, and watch the sky change colors until nothing remains but the possibility of counting the stars. 

“Hey… can I sit here?”

Your heart does a little jump at the sound of his voice. Traitor, you want to say to the pesky organ, but remain quiet as Steve wanders over to stand by you. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Do what you will, Captain.” It’s simple enough of a response, you figure. You look down at the granola bar in your hand, turning it over a few times before rolling your eyes at the silly gesture. “Granola bar?”

He nods, watching as you snap it in half, and grabs the piece. “Thanks.”

You eat in cooperative silence. You take small bites, saving the granola bar so you have something to focus on during the length of time Steve decides to stay up here. He seems to be doing the same. “So what brings you out here? Another depressive episode?”

“I happen to have the perfect amount of depressive episodes, thank you very much.”

You snort, “Ditto.”

He takes a small bite and rolls the granola over his tongue. “No, I uh… I actually came out here to watch the sunset.”

“That’s sweet.” You shrug and admit your reason to him without a second thought. “I came out here to be sad, so.”

“Thor’s visit isn’t doing you any good?”

Thor is genuinely looking better. He’s started braiding his hair again, exercising with the help of Quill and Bruce, and participating in conversation without being addressed first. Seeing him makes you happy, but there’s still a glint in his eyes that reminds you of the lowest point of his life. And his lowest point was also yours. Sometimes you just want to forget. “He looks better. Healthier, got some light back in his eyes. It’s just whenever we look at each other we think of the same thing, I guess.”

Steve hums low and his shoulder brushes yours. “Loki.”

“It’s good to reminisce and all but I’ve got my limits,” you say.

“What was the special connection between you and Loki anyway?”

You grin at such an innocent question. Steve had never been close to Loki, didn’t really like him much, but he tolerated the God wandering about. You figure he genuinely wants to know. “I met him a little bit before I was assaulted. Everyone in the compound had their suspicions but no one asked. It was like they were avoiding me but also trying to help, I don’t really know. It was a weird time. And Loki, after we caught that dragon thing and really, really properly met, just straight up asked me why I was so distant all of a sudden.” Your chest warms at the memory.  “I told him. And you know what the first thing he said to me was?”   

Steve shakes his head a little and his eyes follow the tilt of your mouth. “‘What a cunt’.”  

He startles himself into a laugh, the rough word not expected. You continue, “It was the first time I laughed in four months.”

Steve follows your gaze out to the sunset. He suddenly feels guilty, out of the loop, sad. You had only mentioned your assault to him once when you discovered Tony’s afterlife gifts, and he never brought it up again. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were-”

“Bucky had just moved into the tower and all of your attention was on him. I don’t blame you for not seeing me.”

It’s true, but Steve doesn’t forgive himself. He’s had two years to check up on you and because of his own selfish choice, he’s let you slip from his fingers. A question bubbles from the back of his mind — one that he doesn’t think twice about finally asking. If he does, he won’t ask.  “Do you miss… me?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Sam put the idea in my head and—”

You sigh, “Steve, it’s the fact that he had to put the idea in your head. I can lie and say I’ve been all fine and dandy, or I can tell the truth and say I’ve been all fine and dandy. Take your pick.”

Steve stares at you for a long moment, mouth parting around invisible words. You’re staring at the sunset, avoiding his gaze but aware of his eyes on you, and he misses you. He truly, terribly, misses you. He decides he’s got nothing more to lose — he’s already lost you. “Well, I miss you. Do with that what you will.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes: wind in your ears, legs shifting when too much weight has been applied, tiny sniffs of the nose. You don’t really know what to do with that information. Steve misses you. And you miss him. But he doesn’t deserve to know that. There’s been no apology from him, just things he’ll do to appease Sam. 

At the three minute mark, you groan quietly and turn to him. “Are you seriously still going to watch the sunset up here?”

Steve smirks and watches you from his peripheral. He really has missed being on the receiving end of your various tones of voices. “I have been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

His company isn’t all that bad.  

Present Day, 2025, 9:07am

      Perhaps there were good things that came from being locked up for over two weeks, alone. Last time you were locked up with the team and there was absolutely no special treatment after that. Now you’re resisting the urge to burst out laughing as Steve piles on the seventh massive pancake on your plate; or rolling your eyes as Sam keeps asking if you want more maple syrup — ‘What flavor? We’ve got six!’ — and Peter’s drowning Bucky with questions about who he encountered at the wedding. 

“Is it the same as Netflix Narcos?”

“No,” you say bluntly. 

“Is the Amazon series legit? Like, did Omar really kill the DEA agent?”

“No.”

“Is Omar as evil as they say?”

“No.”

“Damn,” Peter groans, piling a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “Nothing’s as exciting as it seems, huh?”

Everyone looks to him, then to each other.

Steve clears his throat, “I was literally shot.”

Mouth full, you follow. “And I was abused for years.”

“And I had to deal with them while with HYDRA,” Bucky says with his mouth full too.

“Man, they shot at me. That counts,” Sam adds.

“And I finally got to use the shield. While being shot at,” Scott says.

You interject, “Technically I was being shot at.”

Even with such a cloud of violence, with gruesome memories — memories that would just be shoveled into the pile of things that no one is ever going to talk about again  — you all begin laughing. Poor Peter missed out on a lot, but he can put two and two together. He knows this is his only chance to ask before you all lock it away and call it just another mission. It doesn’t hurt to humor him. 

And even though you won’t mention it to any one else unless they ask — this wasn’t just another mission for you or Steve. Things have changed and the both of you know it. The aches within your chest are no longer negative or a bother, but instead are blooming flowers that have laid dormant for years. You’ve been plucking petals for as long as the two of you can remember, and it’s about damn time you both end up on the same page. 

Everything has been quiet. Sure, there are bounties on everyone’s head but when is there not? You’ve pissed off more cartel leaders and gang leaders and political enemies than you can count on two hands, so this enemy territory is not all that foreign. You recognize the high trees, the gray skies, the mud beneath your boots. But you’ve got friends on your team that know how to climb those trees; friends on your team that know how to move the clouds and make the sky the talk; friends on your team that would hump through mud and snow watching your six. 

You can’t believe you even thought about leaving after the mission in the first place. This is where you belong, where all of you belong, because you’re the only ones with good hearts who qualify for the job. 

As breakfast winds down, Steve takes the opportunity to sprinkle in moments of long-awaited public displays of affection. When you go to refill your orange juice, he sneaks a kiss on your cheek. When you go to wash your plate, he makes sure Peter is looking the other way before patting your ass. And when you’re the one to envelope his slim waist from behind, he melts in your combined warmth.  

“So, about our date,” Steve inquires, cheeks turning pink but voice unwavering. He looks brand new, refreshed, and there’s a shine in his eyes that you haven’t seen since forever. You can’t remember the last time you have, but you figure it must have been back when the world hadn’t yet swallowed him whole. Now, he’s burning bright with the youth his soul has missed. 

You jump up and down, “Ooo, exciting!”

Steve takes you by the waist, swinging you in every direction. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and not exactly dancing but it’s pure. “Chinese? Pizza? Just fries?”

“¿Por qué no los tres?” Pursing your lips, you wait for his answer. 

“That can be arranged.”

You gasp dramatically, “You’re spoiling me.”

“Well I have two years to make up for it.”

That startles a laugh from deep inside your chest. “That’s gonna be our inside joke now, huh? Two of the worst years of our lives and we’re joking about it.”

He blushes along with you. “I think that describes our relationship perfectly.”

“Our relationship…” Your voice comes out like a melodic whisper and Steve feels it in his bones.

He grins down at you but before he can respond, someone enters the common room rather cautiously. 

“Oh, now what the hell are you doing here?” Steve demands, pushing you to stand behind him. The gesture is nice, but completely unnecessary. Friday would have alerted the team if someone entered the grounds armed. 

Agent Kavert raises his hands, “Relax. I’m not here to arrest you or anything.”

Steve tries to move his shoulders in a way where Agent Kavert can’t see your head. But you maneuver around him, somehow ending up peeking your head through Steve’s underarm. “If I know the law, and I think I do, you can’t really arrest someone in their own house anyway, right?” You pat Steve repeatedly on his side. “Right?”

Before Steve can respond, Agent Kavert speaks. With Steve guarding you, it seems the only thing Agent Kavert wants to do is get in and get out as fast as he can. “I just came to apologize. Ballistics came back and the evidence does show that you didn’t kill Ernesto Vega. It was Ramirez’s issued gun.”

Yeah, you think. The gun Seda stole.

“Oh, what a breath of relief! I almost forgot I was there.”

He sighs and his lips pull into a small smile. “You’re not gonna tell me where Ramirez is, huh?”

Steve takes this as his cue to leave you two alone, but not before squeezing your hand on his way out. He nods over to Peter, who’s still crouching in the kitchen, unseen by Kavert. Peter gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up,  happy to spy for his Captain. But you know he’s really asking Peter to take care of you while he’s gone.  

You let out a heavy sigh. Omar has been wanted for years for another murder he didn’t even commit. And now, he’s wanted for another. He may be a giant with morals, but even he can’t escape the gruesome reality that plagues the wicked. 

“I don’t even know where he is. If you came looking for answers—”

“No, I just… Everything’s been so fucked up since half the universe came back. And the possibility of an Avenger being bad, having played us for years — I think it just scared a lot of people.” Agent Kavert actually looks sincere. He adjusts his footing and chuckles a little under his breath. There’s a fine line creasing his forehead, but it isn’t formed from stress. He’s smiling, an honest look, and his eyebrows pull inward. “And Shakespeare? Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug and lean back against the counter. “When half the world disappears and takes your family and friends with it, there’s really not much else to do.” 

And besides, Loki was really into Shakespeare.

You continue, deciding at the last second to throw Agent Kavert a bone about your past. “Shield didn’t know but Nick Fury did. So did Pierce. And when Shield fell, Fury just hid it even more.” You give him a half smile. “We weren’t helping the cartel. We were slowly taking it apart.”

Agent Kavert nods, thinking it over. “The deal Jackeline made with us was pretty simple. She’d tell us all the inside secrets that she knew and in exchange, no charges against her and none so serious for you.”

Your shoulders slump and you shoot him a blank stare. “Was it really that simple? Like, I could have just used her as my one free call?”

“Joke all you want. You should have called us when Shield fell. The double agent thing was risky and everyone needs help taking down a giant like that.”

“I did have help. Involving more people was never planned.”

“He was just as much our mission as he was yours.”

Agent Kavert, as sorry as he looks, still doesn’t seem to get it. But that’s fine, you think. Not everyone can. And you’re not in the mood to argue anymore. “No… he wasn’t.”

He seems to read your mind because he simply accepts your answer. “I really am sorry for accusing you. And for the government arresting you alone and letting the white man go free.”

A tiny snort tickles your nostrils. Agent Kavert is white, and it’s even more amusing considering he’s being serious. “Thanks… I guess.”

He turns to leave, seemingly normal, until he spins on his heel and claps his hands. “Oh! And by the way — don’t leave the country. The charges of conspiracy and murder have all been dropped. But there’s evidence of drug smuggling. So, you’re on house arrest.”

Your eyes widen and you reply with a sarcastic yell. “Thanks!” He turns to leave again. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

He glances over his shoulder, “Could not have let you just get away with it. Some of that smuggling was under no order from Shield at all.”

“You know I can easily disable that ugly ass ankle bracelet you’re about to give me?”

He chuckles low, and finally waves goodbye. “Goodbye, Agent Y/LN.”

You stand dumbfounded, slightly annoyed, but you figure it’s better than actual jail time. Peter rises from his hiding spot and walks over to you, blowing air from his mouth. “Friend of yours?”

You whip around to point a finger, scream and laugh mixing into one. “No friend!”

Peter finally hears that accent Steve can’t stop talking about.

       It’s a tiny portrait, sealed in a tiny frame and hidden in a tiny room. The frame is black with professional wooden carvings that make the sides look like perfectly detailed tree trunks. It’s in between the portrait of Tony and Natasha’s bracelet. Tony wears the same AC/DC shirt Steve has somehow stolen and claimed as his own. He’s got this sarcastic grin, some type of wrench in one hand while his other rests on his hip. He stands in his lab, glasses pushed up onto his head and black soot smudged on his cheek. You think Peter snapped the photo back in 2017. 

But the middle portrait is your favorite. It’s the only photo he ever allowed to be taken of him. Brushing your index finger against the glass, you trace the small outlines of Loki’s jawline, to his thin pink lips, to the bulb of his nose, to the waves of his hair. He sits caught off guard, book in his hand and in regular human clothing. He shoots a rather annoyed but joyful look over his shoulder as the camera was shoved in his face. You know for sure Wanda took that photo.

“You’re not dead,” you say as you study the blue of his frozen eyes. A God doesn’t die, you remember him saying. Loki was wrong about a lot of things, but you pray he wasn’t wrong about this. There’s a small part of you that wants to speak the same words to Tony and Natasha, but there’s only so many times the world’s axis can shift for a miracle. You tap the glass, sighing a breath of acceptance, and finally let go. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Smiling up at the ceiling, you think you’re right about this one.

      It’s quiet. The only sounds are the mild ripping of wrapping paper and small ‘thank you’s’ from the team. Everyone got each other something — granted, everyone got something small for everyone. No matter how much Tony joked about still splurging on Christmas shopping, his promises weren’t exactly kept. He’s gotten everyone things they actually need or wanted. Steve, a new drawing pad; Natasha, a bright pink knit sweater; Rhodey, a new watch; Bruce, a pair of sunglasses; Nebula, a dark blue knitted sweater that she immediately presses against her cheek, eyes focused on the ground as she savors the soft brush; you, the full collection of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. And he finally presents the baby’s crib to Pepper, constructed three weeks after she originally asked him to. 

“I know how much you like to reenact A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your room,” Tony grins at you. Biting your bottom lip, you throw yourself at him and hug him tight. He returns the hug with just as much strength, if not more. 

As the night goes on and midnight rings, your small group exchanges tight-lipped merry Christmas’s and happy holidays. Natasha retires to her room, a distant look in her eyes as she says goodnight. No one knows where Clint is.

Steve nudges your elbow with his once the room empties. He holds out a box with festive wrapping — snowmen with carrots for noses and a variety of pebbled smiles. “From me and Okoye.”

“You got me a gift?”

Steve’s brow furrows as he nods like it’s obvious. “Of course. You’re my friend.”

“Well, now I feel inadequate,” you laugh. It comes out wet and it’s then that you realize you’re tearing up. “I promise to reenact Midsummer for you, okay?”

Steve chuckles, “You got it.”

You unwrap it slowly, half wondering why Steve and Okoye teamed up to get you a present. You. Your stomach churns an innocent whirl. 

It’s a long sleeved vest… or sweater. You can’t really tell until you pull it from the box. It’s intricately designed and it takes a moment for you to finally see it, to finally understand, and the moment you do you exhale a wracked breath. 

It’s not Wakandan fashion. It’s threaded with the colors and swirls of a place you haven’t called home in years. It has red flowers down the vest portion and multicolored rows down the sleeves and back. It’s made from a thick fabric that’s rarely used this century. Vintage — home.

“Steve…”

Steve clears his throat, “Now, I only did the flower parts. Okoye found it unfinished in… um…”

And there, where tags from brands would usually be, is a small threaded engraving. 

‘From Bucky, To our muñeca.’

“He didn’t get to finish it so I thought I would — you know, help? — so it’s really from Buck. Probably an apology for not letting you visit him in Wakanda.”

Steve tries to push out a laugh at his poor joke, but you can see how he’s faltering. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down so his knees bend, and pour as much nonverbal thank you’s into the hug. He hesitates at first, arms floating awkwardly, until he swallows his fear and wraps his arms around your waist. He holds you to him tightly and breathes in the sweet scent of your vanilla shampoo. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is small, but Steve regards the delivery as powerful.

You wear it once, that Christmas night, enveloped in its warmth as you slept. In the morning, you hang it in the back of your closet. 

        A knock on your bedroom door sounds through your headphones. Bucky peeks his head in, “Is now a bad time?”

Sitting up, you pull the headphones from your ears. “Nope. Just thinking about how I’ve lived several years in the span of one week.”

Bucky lugs in a sports bag in one hand and a manila file in the other. He places them at the edge of your bed and proceeds to bounce in the available space near you. “Yeah, that can be annoying.”

You attempt to shove him away as he tries to steal your blanket. “Did you need anything?”

“Yeah.” He lets you take it, and simply turns on his side to face you. “What’s gonna happen between you and Steve?”

It’s an innocent question, but you know Bucky well enough to notice when he’s stressed. Steve probably told him to mind his business. “We’re good.”

He inspects your face with squinted eyes, “I know what you’re thinking so cut that shit out. This isn’t one of those missions where the feelings will just go away.”

“Funny thing is, I believe you,” you admit, watching as his face does something unexpected. His smile drops suddenly, like he didn’t expect you to agree with him, and then it’s immediately back full force. 

“Peggy and Steve - right person, wrong time. You and Loki - right person, wrong time. You and Steve, all those years ago — right person, wrong time.” A weird thing happens: you agree with him again. “But now, after everything — right person, right time.”

“It’s just weird feeling like it’ll actually work.”

“That makes us seem like we’re all broken, doll. We’re not.”

You turn so you’re facing him; two mismatched parentheses. “We’re just tired.”

“We’re just tired,” Bucky agrees, smiling. “I’m not saying don’t look over your shoulder whenever you feel like it. Hell, I still look over mine.”

Snorting, you roll closer to hug him. He pulls you into his chest. “You give amazing pep talks.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why they gave that trophy to Steve.” Bucky shares the intimate moment for as long as it takes before the blanket starts overheating. He groans as he sits up to retrieve the things he brought with him.  “By the way, our mutual friend sends one last warm regards.”

Bucky throws the sports bag onto your lap. “What’s this?”

“Your shit.”

You don’t even want to ask him how he packed your things without your knowledge. “Kicking me out, Barnes?”

“Clothes, toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, pads, the quilt I just finished knitting thank you very much,” Bucky lists and hands you the file. “Maribel found him.”

“Ramirez?”

“Your dad.” 

You snap your head up to look at him. Bucky expects to see anger, hurt, maybe even betrayal. He was prepared for it. But you just look confused, lost for words, maybe even scared. “Goes by Richard these days. Lives with his wife in Wisconsin, no kids, keeps to himself.” 

You flip through the files, holding your breath. The file is small, Richard’s information only covering the first page, the rest just drabble. He seems relatively normal, looks normal even; normal job, normal credit score, normal upbringing. It doesn’t even seem real. You close the file and set it aside. “So you are sending me away?”

Bucky smirks, “It’s a suggestion. But I took the liberty of doing the hard part for you.”

“Yeah, because packing my lady products is the climax of this story.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that Bucky called Richard your ‘dad’. Everyone either referred to Ernesto as ‘your father’ or by his name. Steve had said ‘dad’ a few times before he met him, then he never said it again. Hell, even you did sometimes. 

It’s a sweet distinction and you’re certain Bucky said it on purpose. Bucky takes your hands in his, “It’s been a long time coming. But at least we can both say that the people who hurt us can’t hurt us any longer.” 

You can. You really can.

       Bucky’s already packed Steve’s shit as well. Steve’s just shoving extra socks into his bag when someone knocks on the door. He expects Bucky or Sam, final words of encouragement, but it’s Scott. And he’s standing there grinning like a mad man. 

“So, what’s the verdict, Rogers? You going after her or not?”

Steve huffs a laugh, “Think you already know the answer to that, Lang.”

Scott closes the door behind him and leans back against it. He shoves his hands in his sweater pockets, “Not that it should matter, shut me up if I cross any line, but everyone supports this.”

“Weirdly, I think it does matter. We’ve had you guys picking sides for two years. Selfishly. Like we were having a fucking civil war after everything.”

“Yeah, well.” 

Steve huffs a laugh. It’s always going to surprise him just how comfortable Scott is around him now. Not afraid to tease him or call him out on something he doesn’t agree with. It’s refreshing.

“I’m not giving up on her, Scott. Not again.”

Scott nods. Perhaps breaking the mission ethic code wasn’t a bad thing after all, Scott thinks. He gives Steve a proud smile, genuine. “Then I hereby declare our hanging conversation officially closed.”

        Steve wanders from his bedroom, to the conference room, to the main living room without an end destination in mind, seeming to just follow his quick feet as they lead him around the halls of the compound. He’s proud of himself, really, because he truly believes he’s learned to swallow his pride, has opened himself up to the possibility of being happy, and accepted that the world has changed and will continue to alter whether he likes it or not. He was, is, and will always be a man out of time — he’ll never fit but goddamn does he feel settled. He hasn’t felt this sane since before the war — which one? — so he relishes in the feeling for a few calm seconds. 

He feels tears well-up on his water line and feels the pressure in his temples. He’s at a crossroads — both proud of himself for finally choosing the path he wants and relieved that this week, this mission he has dreaded for almost ten years, is over. He doesn’t know if he should sleep for a month or occupy his time with other things awaiting repair. A build up of five years, grief and loss and happiness all weirdly mixed into one pot, and Steve simply hasn’t noticed the improper portions of each ingredient. 

It’s too much.

He thinks about his mental health. Shot to Hell, he jokes with himself. He’s already got the virtual therapy appointments scheduled. He figures he’ll get better with time and if Steve knows one thing for sure, it’s that he’s got a whole lot of that.

He thinks about Sam and Bucky and Scott — his three best friends that have gone to the ends of the Earth and back for him, and who would proudly do it all over again. He thinks about their kind words, their gentle touch, their devotion that Steve still sometimes feels he doesn’t deserve. 

And he thinks about you. To anyone else, this was written in the damn stars. No, there wasn’t anything extremely obvious in the first few years. You were friends. Friends that grew to consider each other teammates. Teammates that drew a drop of blood while fighting on opposite sides. Teammates that recognized the true endgame, teammates that helped each other escape, teammates that went silent for two years. Two years of no contact, no signal of survival. Then again, teammates who stood by as their world crumbled around them. Teammates who grew to be friends again, leaning on free shoulders and seeking help through happy conversations and long nights. Friends that brought the world together again, only to rip each other from their own. Friends into the most bizarre of enemies. And enemies back to teammates. 

Steve wipes a hand down his face as he fixes the strap over his shoulder. The common room is empty — he likes it this way. That means everyone is either napping, getting food, visiting friends or family, simply living life. The silence is therapeutic. 

His eyes fall on a crooked picture frame near the television. He tries to ignore it, almost to the door and ready for another road trip, but he steps back. Then forward, then back again. He groans in frustration of himself and moves to turn the frame back in place, holding it for a few seconds until it stays. But as he lets go, it tilts once more. He tries again — it tilts back. 

He pulls the frame from the hook and turns it over. He rightly freezes, the presence of a small pink paper airplane taped near the edge knocking the wind from his constricting lungs. He pulls it off, careful to not tear the delicate post-it. 

He never found it. Natasha probably placed it behind this very picture frame in the other compound for him to find. Surely the explosion should have destroyed it — but it didn’t. It’s right here, perfectly intact, just a smudge of dirt on one of its wings. The frame hadn’t been damaged either. It’s real. 

He holds the thin piece of paper like it’s the most precious thing in the world. 

Steve turns it over between his fingers a few more times, before he carefully folds it back in half and puts it in his wallet. “You’ve got some nerve, Nat. But I hear ya.”

       Steve decides to write you back. He hides the letter in that sweater he knows you don’t wear anymore, in the far back of your closet, and marvels at the intricate stitching while he can. He poured his heart out, even if it’s not guaranteed you’ll ever see it. 

     ‘Yes, I found your letter. I found it when I was looking for perfume in your suitcase. The tape was loose and I violated your privacy. I’m truly sorry for that. 

But I felt compelled to write you back, in case the reverse happened and I died instead of you. I didn’t write it then, when you were drying your hair in front of that impossibly small mirror you so weirdly called ‘a stupid little bitch’. And you looked so beautiful. But I’m writing it now and maybe I’ll share it with you in person when we’re both ready.      

When the world turned to dust, I held on to you. I know exactly why. Natasha bugged me about it also, teasing me whenever I would glance at you too long, or give you the last remaining Oreos I was planning on eating, or whenever I would leave your room in the mornings after a nightmare. She knew nothing was happening between us, but she had this smile whenever she caught me. Like she was happy I was comforting you, and in turn seeking comfort for myself. 

You remember how her smile would tilt up more on the left side? 

There isn’t a proper way to truly apologize for hurting you. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. You at least deserve that. 

I returned a different man. And I think that was for the better.

Yes, I wanted the quiet life. I still think I do. And I think you know this — you have always seen right through me.      

I now know what Natasha saw. You irritate me, you damn near make me want to choke myself out, but I care for you. We hold each other up, and I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be.      

You’re my best friend — I hope I’m one of yours.

Steve.’

       There’s no one currently in the compound who really knows how to change the battery in your car. Bucky tries, does a rather good job too, but he claims he’s winging it and that you should call a mechanic just in case. He leaves you there with two random batteries on the ground, hood of your car open, and without any idea of what to do next. So you chill and wait for the mechanic you hope isn’t going to jack up the price just because he knows who you are. 

But he doesn’t seem fazed by you at all — or at the fact he just had to drive through countless checkpoints and security checks just to get on Avengers property. He changes the battery and changes the oil, hooking you up with as many upgrades he can. He even offers to wash it until you thank him repeatedly and that Really, really, you don’t have to do that. Thank you so much!

“Quite a garage you got here.”

There are unfinished projects and random wires falling from the ceiling and enough tools to supply five garages. It’s messy, but it was Tony’s. You accept the compliment and see him out. 

“Eh, make sure those windshield wipers work. I hear it’s gonna rain tomorrow.”

You thank him again. The clouds to the west are gray, getting darker as the expanse stretches, but from where you’re standing everything’s blue. You figure the mechanic was right: it’s gonna rain, and it’s gonna rain hard. 

The mechanic did good, all things considered. You never thought your old, beat-up Honda could look a few years younger. You flick one of the wipers lightly, testing its strength. It holds, as does the other, but when you go to lift it up it stops halfway. Without wanting to break it, you don’t force it. There’s something blocking the switch. 

You grab it before it can accidentally fall into a deep slot; the figurehead of a man, curly hair and beard that matches Steve’s, who also has a prominent and strong nose. You turn the coin over a few times before looking around the garage, down the street, at the remote area where the mechanic has just left. Standing there, mouth agape, you wonder just how in the world you missed the mechanic placing it there.

You were lacking in the spy department nowadays. Oops.

You know you’re not going to find Ramirez. But him giving this back to you? It was his way of saying he’s alright and that he owes you many thanks. 

You pocket the coin and accept the fact you just got bested.

It should take a few hours before you hit the first motel. Wisconsin isn’t that far, but you do have to pass through about hundred “middle of nowhere’s”. You pull out of the garage and check your mirrors — completely unaware of the super soldier running full speed to the passenger door. Steve carefully throws it open, somewhat aware of his strength, and lands into the seat beside you.

You hit the brakes hard. “Oh my! Rogers!”

Steve sucks in a few heavy breaths, like he literally ran across the compound to make it. “What? I startle you?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing? Aren’t you on house arrest?”

You squint at him, “Touche.” Putting the car in park, you turn your whole body to face him. “Answer my question.”

“Thought you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye?” Steve asks, expression much more teasing than serious.

“I’ll be gone for three days tops,” you say, waving your hand in the air. Steve smiles at you, seemingly waiting for you to speak again. You roll your eyes, “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

Steve lifts up the small duffel bag you hadn’t seen when he first got into the car. He throws it into the backseat and smiles lovingly at you. “I’ve been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

“Rhodey said that the ankle bracelet they gave me wasn’t a trusted model. Easy to break off, like they did it on purpose.” You lean toward him, holding your chin up with the palm of your hand. “Should be able to drive free for a few weeks before they suspect anything.”

“Already booked us a cabin for Thanksgiving.”

“What makes you think that I even want you to accompany me on this road trip? Did you like the first one?”

Steve clears his throat and mimes like he’s writing on paper. The next words out of his mouth make your legs turn cold. “No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be, there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you.”

You blink multiple times, as if that would fix your ears. “...You. Fucking. Didn’t.” Steve reaches over to try and hug you. “No, don’t.” He squeezes harder, smooshing your face in his chest. “Steeeeve!”

“It fell out of your suitcase during the mission and I just… looked,” Steve reasons. He allows you to escape his grip.

“You just looked?”

Steve sighs. He really does look guilty. He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers tickle your skin. “I’m sorry I read it. I’ll get out of this car for real if you want me to.”

You arch an eyebrow, “You’re a little shit, but I’m not mad. No one understands privacy these days.”

Steve smiles wide enough for his dimples to pop and his eyes to crinkle. “I’d follow you anywhere, doll.”

“Anywhere?”

“Just name it.”

Humming low, you lean forward. He follows your direction like you’re a lighthouse beaming with light, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss. He hooks a large hand behind your head to press you to him harder. You smell like that vanilla scented shampoo he loves so much and feels his heart constrict with a pleasant pulse. 

You pull back for air and smile against Steve’s soft lips. 

“Well, I’m headed for the middle of buttfuck Wisconsin—”

“Just drive!”

Bursts of laughter fill the car until you’re past the checkpoints and well onto the long roads. The clouds continue to turn darker but they’re inviting, alluring, and it’s not insane that both of you desire thunderstorms because they remind you of family. 

Steve watches you from the passenger seat, memorizing the contours and edges of your profile. The roots in his heart begin spreading again; the meat of his heart filling with a soothing promise that his time on earth is no longer rootless. He’s dug his feet in, he’s watered all he’s needed to water, and he feels it spreading within him like newly blossomed flowers in the spring. He has a sudden urge to take out his drawing pad to immortalize the way your mouth tilts higher up on the right side when you smile, to record it forever. 

But he’ll remember it. He’ll remember well into this timeline, several years down the road, and even when he’s resting in his grave. So he leans his head back against the seat and chooses to watch the curves of every expression you grace him with. He immortalizes the sound of your voice, the taps of your fingers against the steering wheel, and the accented way you say his name. 

There’s a long drive ahead, but he’s excited for it. He’s excited for you. Steve promises himself that he’ll ask you a million questions, and give you a million answers, and share a million more stories. 

Right now, he just needs to sleep.

~

THE END.

Taglist: @dumb-ass-3 @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise​ @missnighttigress​

[your-eternal-muse]

Wish I Were....

Heather Series Chapter 12 (FINAL PART)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Bonus!:Readers Card Confession Bonus!:To Hold On, To Let Go, Spencers take Bonus!:Series Playlist

Summery: Reader no longer wishes she were someone else

Words: 4k

Warnings: Swearing, Description of Birth, just pure, tooth aching fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Y/N: This is it y’all. This is the final chapter of the Heather's Series. I started this journey a little over a month ago, and my god, has it been amazing. I never thought it would pick up the traction it did, and I am so glad I decided to start posting in the first place. I’m gonna take a short break from posting any writing just to recuperate and stuff, but it won’t last longer than a week, and I will still be interacting on the platform itself. I want to thank every single reader who has liked and/or reblogged my work. It means so much to me, and I would not have gotten this far without your support. I love you all with all of my heart. There will be one more bonus “chapter” that I will be posting within the next couple days, but it’ll be mostly headcanons, and answering any questions you may have about the series. I hope the ending is worth it. 

With love, your eternal muse,

Frankie <3

~~~~~

I used to be a night owl.

I used to live in the night, sit under the stars and soak it all up.

I used to not go to bed until hours after the sunset, perfectly content to not waking up until hours after it had risen.

Now, I’m lucky to sleep for a few hours between dusk and dawn.

But I’m okay with that.

The ringing of trembling tears echoes through my ears, and I stir awake.

I rub my face, looking at the clock as I push back the comforter.

4 am.

Oh goody.

“I’ve got her baby, go back to sleep.”

Spencer whispers in my ear, planting a kiss on my shoulder, and I’m not one to argue.

I fall back into the pillows, pulling the blanket back up to my chin, my eyes closing without much resistance.

I wake an hour late, expecting to feel his body warmth against my back.

I turn, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, realizing that the blanket is still pulled back from when he got up the hour before.

Oh dear lord please tell me she didn’t get sick.

I climb out of bed, padding down the hallway towards the soft glow of light emitting from her room.

I pause at the doorway, watching as he holds her close to his chest, a smile draped across his face.

I can’t help but stand and watch as he sways back and forth, watching her sleep in his arms.

I notice her tiny hand is clasped around his ring finger, the gold of his wedding band glowing in the dim light.

I love that ring on him.

I never thought I’d be the one to put it on him.

My heart is pounding in my chest.

Why am I so nervous?

He’s not going to leave me stranded.

Right?

Jesus, get a grip, y/n.

“Are you ready y/n?” Hotch walks around the corner, fixing his cuff links as he walks up to me.

I take a deep breath in, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t going to throw up.

“Yep. I’m ready, I just….” I fan myself. “Is it normal to feel like you’re going to pass out on your wedding day?”

He smiles, coming forward and taking hold of my hand. “It is. And I guarantee you, he’s worse than you are.”

I laugh, just imagining the state he’s in.

He hasn’t seen me in three days, since I’m a stickler for tradition.

It was my bachelorette party, than his bachelor party, and now here we are.

“When Haley and I got married, I was a nervous wreck. I don’t think I took a normal breath until hours after just because I was so worried about everything going to plan.”

He brushes some of the curls framing my face out of my eye sight.

“But, when I met her eyes, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. It was just us, and I knew, at that moment, that everything would be okay.”

I nod, exhaling. “Okay. I’m ready.”

He loops my arm through his, turning to the closed doors where my future waits for me.

“Thank you, Aaron. For giving me away. You’re the closest thing to a father I’ve got.”

He pats my hand. “It’s my honor, y/n.”

I hear the start of the music, and my heart jump starts. 

I grip his arm, trying to control my breathing. 

“Don’t let me fall.”

“Never.”

The doors open, and for a moment, I panic.

But then my eyes meet his.

And everything else disappears.

His hands are clasped in front of him, and I see him look me over, taking in everything.

Tears are streaming down both of our faces, and god, I never realized how much I missed him when he’s gone.

We reach the altar, where a proud Rossi stands, and Hotch hands me off with a kiss to my cheek.

I hand JJ my flowers, turning clasping Spencer's hands in mine.

When my hand touches his, my breathing returns to normal.

However, before I even notice, JJ is handing me a folded piece of paper that holds my vows.

Weddings always seem longer when you’re not in them.

I unfold the paper, clearing my throat.

“I don’t have an eidetic memory, so I need this so I don’t make a fool of myself.”

A couple laughs from the crowd.

Okay, here goes nothing.

“The first time I saw you, you were sitting at your desk, while Derek and JJ sat around you, watching you explain the scientific inaccuracies of Star Wars.”

He laughs, and Derek pats his shoulder from behind him.

“I was awestruck to say the least. The way your eyes lit up with excitement, how your hands couldn’t stay still.”

I take a breath, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I fell in love with you at that moment. But I knew I was done for when you looked at me for the first time.”

Rossi produces a tissue from his pocket, and I laugh, accepting and blotting at my tears.

“You are my best friend. You are there for me in my darkest times, and are often the cause of all my light ones. You hold me when I cry, and you laugh when I’m angry at something stupid. You never make me feel stupid. You are the greatest thing to have ever happened to me.”

Christ, why was this so hard?

“I love you. And I promise to cherish you, and not get annoyed when you ramble on about god knows what, because I love to listen to you talk. I promise to never make you feel like you don’t matter, because you matter so much. I promise to love you through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, until the end of time itself. I choose you, forever and always.”

I fold the paper up again, dabbing away my tears.

“Well, look at that, I still made a fool of myself.”

More laughs, and I hear a few sniffles here and there. 

Spencer wipes his own eyes. “I don’t know if I can top that.”

I giggle.

He goes into his jacket, and pulls out a white envelope, and my face scrunches in confusion.

“It’s not what you think it is.” He whispers.

He opens it, pulling out a car, and begins to read from the inside.

“You told me once, in a card similar to this one, that the moment you admitted to yourself that you loved me, was on a road trip to visit my mom. I thought it fitting that I tell you that, that was the moment I admitted to myself that I loved you in the same way. So here we are.”

I bring a hand up to my mouth, covering the ugly sobs that threaten to spill out.

“We had only known each other for a month, but you were easily taking over every brain cell in my mind. I was terrified of you saying no, but I asked anyway. Those two weeks were some of the best of my life. I fell in love with your laugh, your smile, the way your hair looks in the sunlight. I fell in love with you from the driver's seat and I’ve loved you ever since. You deserve to be reminded of that every day for the rest of your life. I promise to hold and cherish the heart that you have given me. I promise to catch you, every time you run away. I promise to protect you with my life. You mean everything to me, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of forever with you. I love you, forever and always.”

He closes it, and it takes a moment for me to gather myself.

“I promise I didn’t look at your vows before writing mine.”

I laugh.

Rossi clears his throat. “The rings please, Henry.”

Henry walks forward, our rings sitting on the pillow as he smiles at us. 

“Thank you buddy.” I say, taking hold of Spencer’s between my fingers.

“Alright. Y/n, repeat after me. I, Y/n Y/l/n, take Spencer Reid, to be my husband.”

I repeat the words, a smile growing bigger and bigger on my face.

“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until the end of time.”

Can I kiss him yet?

I say the words, like casting a spell, before slipping the golden band onto his finger.

Rossi repeats the phrase, and Spencer’s smile is as big as mine, if not bigger.

“Until the end of time.”

He delicately slips the ring on my finger, and my heart starts pounding.

“One more question for each of you. I promise, we're almost there.”

He smiles at each of us, before turning back to me.

“Do you, Y/n Y/l/n, take Spencer Reid as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Not even a question.

“And do you, Spencer Reid, take Y/n Y/l/n as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

I start bouncing on my toes, too excited to care.

“Then it is my great pleasure and honor to pronounce you, husband and wife.”

He turns to Spencer. “You may now kiss the bride.”

He doesn’t hesitate, cradling my face in his hands as he places his lips on mine.

It’s just me and him, in an empty room.

I move my hands up his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck.

It’s only when we break, that I remember people are here, and the room is filled with applause.

With our hands clasped together we walk back down the aisle, and I swear I am never going to be this happy ever again. And that’s okay.

My eyes fall from his arms, to the dresser sitting next to her crib. 

The top is covered with photos, personalized trinkets, and books. 

One picture is framed with her name in gold lettering down the side.

My first sonogram.

Through the glass I can see wrinkles in the film.

Spencer carried it with him until the day she was born.

He had always mentioned how he wanted to have kids someday.

It didn’t make me any less nervous to tell him, though.

“Hello?”

“Hi! Is this Mrs. Y/n Reid?”

I stop writing, my pen mid stroke on my paper.

“This is she.”

“Hello! This is Nicole calling from United Health with the results of your pregnancy test.”

Jesus that was fast.

“Oh! That was quicker than I expected.”

I set my pen down, closing my file, pushing some hair behind my ear, looking around to see if anyone was in ear shot.

They weren’t.

“We get that a lot. But, I’d like to say congratulations! You are pregnant!”

I stop breathing for a moment.

“Oh my god. Oh my god! Thank you!”

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

“You’re so welcome! Congratulations again! Have a great rest of your day!”

I hang up, still trying to grasp the words that have just been spoken to me.

I’m pregnant.

I’m fucking pregnant.

Holy fuck.

“Y/n? Baby, are you okay?”

I snap out of my daze to see Spencer standing beside my desk, a look of skeptical worry on his face.

“Uh...yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Um…”

I have to tell him. I can’t keep this a secret from him, even if I wanted to try and surprise him.

I stand, running my hands over my pants.

“Okay, somethings wrong. You do that when you’re nervous.”

I can’t help but laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Nothings wrong, Spence. Um, I just got a call from United Health.”

He’s confused, setting the file in his hand, down on my desk.

“Why would United Health be calling you?”

There are days when I can't believe he has an I.Q. of 187.

“I went in yesterday, to get a test done. I’ve been gaining weight, and I’ve been getting sick in the mornings. I also skipped my last period.”

I can sense the wheels beginning to turn in his head.

“Wait. Are you…”

I nod, tears falling down my cheeks. “I’m pregnant, Spencer.”

It takes a moment for the words to register in his brain, but then he’s yelling in excitement, throwing his arms around my waist, picking me up and spinning me around.

He sets me down, his eyes red rimmed, his smile one I will never forget.

“You’re pregnant. Oh my god we’re having a baby.”

His hands are placed on either side of my face, and I can’t help but laugh at his infectious excitement.

“Who’s having a baby, now?”

Derek walks up, and Spencer turns, and I know Derek knows just by the shit eating grin on Spencer’s face.

But I just love saying it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Derek’s eyes light up as he claps his hands together, before pulling Spencer into a hug. “My man!”

JJ and Emily gather around, all smiles and squeals as I’m captured in the middle of a group hug.

Penelope walks into the bullpen then, confusion written across her face.

“What’s going on out here? Why are you guys screaming? Who won the lottery?”

I bite my lip, trying to hold back the smile.

“I’m pregnant!” I all but scream.

Penelope’s expression changes in an instant as she practically runs forward.

“Oh my god! Holy crap! Baby genius! That’s so much better than the lottery!” 

She catches me in a bone crushing hug before suddenly pulling back.

“Crap. Sorry. Fragile baby.”

“Congratulations baby girl.” Derek swaps places with Penelope, who is now hugging Spencer with everything she has.

“Alright, why are you guys hugging each other?”

Rossi and Hotch walk through the glass doors, taking in the commotion.

I feel Spencer wrap his arms around me from behind, as he kisses my shoulder, my neck, my cheek.

“I’m pregnant!”

A smile immediately forms on Rossi’s face as he comes forward, grasping my face between his hands, kissing me on each of my cheeks.

“Congratulations, principessa.”

“Congratulations, to both of you.”

Hotch is smiling, waiting his turn to give hugs.

“It’s decided, celebratory dinner at my place tonight!” Rossi announces and we all cheer.

I turn my head, placing my hands over Spencer’s which are now resting over my stomach.

“I love you.” I smile.

“I love you, too. Both of you.”

Soft humming breaks the silence of the room, and quiet words float through the air as he sings to her sleeping form.

“Come Josephine, in my flying machine. Going up she goes, up she goes.”

I enter the room then, tip toeing over to stand by his side, leaning my head against his shoulder as I gently stroke her hair.

“Up, up, a little bit higher. Oh! My! The moon is on fire! Come, Josephine in my flying machine going up, all on, goodbye!”

She’s tiny.

I couldn’t fathom how tiny she was a month ago, and she has grown, but she’s still so small.

Has it already been a month?

“Jesus fuck, I  promised myself this wouldn’t happen at work.”

I shouldn’t have come in.

I know that.

I know that waking up with contractions is a tell tale sign that you should not go to work.

But she isn’t due for another two weeks. Two weeks is a long time. Hopefully enough time to get a grip on myself so I don’t panic that I’m gonna fail as a mother every time I think about it too hard.

I thought maybe I could just get through the day, but the warm stream trickling down my leg is a big fuck no to that.

I’m trying to steady my breathing, the cup of tea I was making abandoned on the counter as I grip the edge with a force I didn’t know I had.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

Hotch walks up, worry creasing his brow.

He places a hand on my back, a comfort as pain ripples up and down my spine.

I shake my head. “I need Spencer.”

I shift my weight from leg to leg. “And a towel.”

He nods his head, looking around for a chair, frowning when he comes up empty.

“Aaron,” I say, turning my head towards him. “Please go get my husband.”

“Right.” He nods, taking a second to make sure I wasn’t going to topple over before almost running towards Penelope's bat cave.

A hiss escapes my mouth as I feel a jab in my side.

“Yeah, I know baby, I wish he would hurry the fuck up too.”

A plethora of footsteps fall upon my ears, and Spencer immediately places a hand on my lower back, taking hold of mine with his other.

“How far apart are they?” is the first thing out of his mouth.

“I’m fine, honey, thanks for asking.” I say as we start to make our way towards the front glass doors.

He gives me a look and I sigh.

“I don’t know. I thought if I didn’t count they’d go away and I could pretend this isn’t happening at work.”

“I wish it worked like that.” JJ laughs, holding open the door and what I presume is my go bag.

“Me too.” I grit, squeezing Spencer’s hand.

“Remember our deal. Not one statistic, or fact is to be uttered from your mouth today. You are not a doctor once we enter the hospital.”

I can see the panic start to form on his face, but he laughs.

“Yes ma’am.”

~~~

I’m never doing this again.

I don’t think I’ve ever been in this much pain before.

I’ve been in this room for what feels like forever, because she’s taking her sweet time being early.

No amount of pillows or soothing rubs can help the aches that are washing over me.

My hair is falling from the bun I threw it up in, sweat coating every inch of skin I have.

I feel gross in every sense of the word.

I lean forward and groan as another contraction rips through me.

How do women do this?

Spencer brushes some hair out of my face and lays a cool washcloth on my neck as I grip the side rails of my bed.

“You’re doing so good baby.”

It feels like I can’t breath.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

He knows there’s not much he can do right now to help, but he holds my hand, trailing his hand up and down my back.

“Just a little bit longer. I promise. She’s almost here. You’re doing so good, y/n. I’m so proud of you.”

If only he knew about the panic flowing through my veins, the thoughts that I’m not ready to be a mom bouncing around my skull like an insistent headache.

A knock at the door, and my doctor walks in, smiles and bright eyes. “How are you feeling, y/n?”

“Like a,” I groan, trying to move away from the pain, shifting forward and backwards. “Like a million bucks.”

She laughs, and I don’t have the energy to be nice and laugh with her.

“Well, I still need to check, but I’m pretty sure you’re ready to push.”

I close my eyes, not wanting to look as she sticks her fingers in a place that will need some R&R after this. 

“I was right. You’re ready. Now, your body knows exactly what to do. It’s best to not fight it, and just listen to what it’s telling you okay?”

I start to move myself back away from her, my breathing picking up pace.

I can’t do this.

“No. No. I can’t. I’m not ready.”

She doesn’t seem phased at all, but Spencer easily notices the fear in my voice. 

“Hey, Hey, Hey. Look at me.” His hands stroke the sides of my face, and his fingers are wet from my tears and sweat.

I shake my head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not ready. What if I fail? I don’t want to fail her. I can’t. No. I’m gonna be a horrible mother.”

“Y/n, baby, breath with me.” He takes my hand, and places it on his chest.

I can feel his breaths beneath his breastbone, the frantic heartbeats that give away his true state of mind.

I hate that I’m stressing him out.

“You are going to be a great mother. One of the best. I don’t think you could fail even if you tried.”

He brushes my tears away. “But you can’t force your body to stop. You need to let go. I’m right here.”

“Alright, were ready, y/n.”

My eyes pass between Spencer’s and I know he’s right.

I just need to let go.

I nod, and I move back to where I was. 

My left hand grips the rail, while my right is situated inside Spencer’s. 

I feel the next contraction start. 

“Alright I need you to push for me.” 

I’m on the brink of a mental breakdown, but I take a breath and let my muscles do the work.

I hear that groaning and screaming can actually help, so that’s what I do. 

With every push, my voice grows louder, words lost in the back of my throat.

But I’m getting tired, and I can feel myself crashing. 

So when another contraction pulses through me, I push myself forward, and use every muscle in my body.

“Get out, get out, get out, GET OUT!” 

I don’t think I’ve ever screamed that loud, but it seemed to work.

It felt like a gush and then crys fill the room.

I fall back onto the bed, tears streaming down my face.

“She’s beautiful!” I hear my doctor say over her screams.

Spencer kisses my forehead, his own tears coating his face. “You were amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Here she is!”

My doctor lays a bundle of white blankets onto my chest, and when I see her face, my heart stops. 

The world could be burning around me, but I wouldn’t care. Even covered in gunk and red faced, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. 

I sob, holding her close to me, Spencer right there beside me, his hand gently stroking the top of her head. 

“Hi, Ettie.” I whisper. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“She’s so beautiful.” He whispers, his voice thick with emotion. 

I can’t take my eyes off her. I never want to let go of her.

Nothing else matters anymore, nothing but her.

Juliet Diana Reid.

Born at 6:08 am, on the third of December.

He places her in my arms, and I clutch her close to my chest as I move back towards her crib to lay her down again.

I don’t understand how I could have ever doubted how amazing my life would be with her in it.

Soft snores emit from her small mouth, and Spencer wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder, only moving when he hears me sniffle.

“Why are you crying, love?” he whispers

I wipe my face, turning around so I can face him.

His hands are on my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles on my skin.

“For so long, I was jealous of so many people.” My hands play with the fabric of his t-shirt, rubbing it between my fingers.

“I was jealous of Heather. Of what she had.”

My hands move up his chest, coming to rest at the base of his neck. 

“I dreamed about this. About having this with you. And I never thought I would get it. But here I am.”

I smile up at him. “I have everything I have ever wanted. I wouldn’t wish for another life even if it was offered. I have you, and Ettie, and the life I wanted so bad. I’m just…”

I swallow the noise threatening to spill from my throat, so I don’t wake up the sleeping girl behind me. 

“I’m just really happy is all.”

He smiles softly down at me, and he brings up a hand to cup my cheek. 

He leans down and kisses me slowly, gently, in a way that always leaves me paralyzed. 

“I love you.” He whispers. 

I nuzzle my nose against his, before laying my head against his chest, feeling his arms wrap around me, holding me tight against him. 

“I love you, too.”

I love you, Spencer.

I love you.

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