#i can’t believe i failed year 11 lit

[r0ttenhearts]

inconvenience

alhaitham x reader

sypnosis: after alhaitham fails to show up for your birthday “party” things seem to go worse between you as well as your best friend kaveh

warnings: angst, no comfort, arguments

the clock chiming felt taunting with every minute that passed. every minute that passed with alhaitham nowhere in sight. every minute that got closer to midnight. a gentle sigh left your lips, the thickly frosted cake sat in front of you untouched. you were sure if you had lit the candles they would have been nothing but melted wax by now.

you weren’t sure why you wanted to believe things would be different tonight. with alhaitham’s busy schedule it made moments between you two scarce and few. only speaking for a few minutes in the morning, knowing he’d be gone all day. you didn’t blame him for it, no. how could you? he was busy doing his job as a scribe! piling onto his already busy schedule felt nauseating. but you trusted his promise he made to you only two weeks prior. a promise to come home early on your birthday, to celebrate together.

it felt so long ago now. the clock reading 11:46 and he still wasn’t home. the sound of the door opening perked you up, a wide smile on your face as you got up, ready to greet alhaitham.

“haitham! i- oh.”

the blonde haired architect smiled softly at you, your shoulders slumping. “hey kaveh, why’re you home so late?” you spoke softly as he came inside.

“i just got caught up with things, figured i’d rather finish them here.. where’s alhaitham? i thought you two would be together right about now?”

you shook your head softly, “i guess he got caught up with things as well.”

kaveh studied your face for a moment before smiling sadly, “happy birthday (y/n).” you whispered a quiet thank you as he walked to his room, the door shutting gently behind him.

a silent storm brewed in your mind and you couldn’t help but feel so defeated. your boyfriend of four years couldn’t bother to show up for your birthday? did he really think his work mattered more than you?

you remembered every time you passed up something with your friends or an event you had wanted to go to, just for alhaitham. considering his feelings and knowing he didn’t like those things. only wanting to spend time together even if it meant missing out on things you also deemed as important.

always taking his feelings and thoughts on certain things, but he couldn’t even come home for your birthday? your sigh was much more aggravated than it was before, your patience as thin as paper.

just as you were about to put the cake away the door opened, the clock reading 12:24. no words were said as you closed the fridge door, making your way past alhaitham before he stopped you. a firm hand on your shoulder.

“what, alhaitham? it’s late, i’m going to bed.” you attempted to shrug his hand off but he held his grip. “you’re angry, why are you upset with me?” alhaitham spoke cooly and composed.

you scoffed loudly, angry tears were trying to escape your eyes but you wouldn’t let them. you wouldn’t cry over him.

“oh, i wonder! i really do, alhaitham. maybe because it’s my birthday and you didn’t bother to show up? just a reminder since you seemed to have forgotten, or do you just not care? i don’t think i want to know the answer.” you spat out like poison. a look of annoyance crossed alhaitham’s face.

“are you serious? you’re behaving like a child over your birthday? i was busy with my work, you know this. don’t go pouting now because i forgot one meaningless day.”

he didn’t care. he didn’t care how much this meant to you, even after telling him stories of how you always went out of your way for others. only to be disappointed in return. the one day of the year you wanted to feel like you mattered, and he didn’t care. he was more bothered with you being upset than anything.

“you can’t be serious alhaitham. you promised me!”

“then i suppose that promise didn’t mean much as i don’t recall ever making one.”

any argument you had in your mind now died. he wouldn’t care for any reason to justify your anger, he had made up his mind. and he wasn’t sorry for any of it.

you didn’t say anything as his hand left your shoulder, walking past you to the kitchen for a late night sandwich. you quietly made your way to kaveh’s room, shutting the door as quietly as you could behind you. kaveh spun around in his chair, a look of confusion on his face.

“kaveh.. alhaitham didn’t care! he just didn’t care at all. i waited all night, you know? i waited and waited and blew off invitations to spend my birthday with dehya and the girls and he just.. just didn’t care! he called me a child and i-“

“(Y/N)!”

your emotional rambling stopped at the yell of your name. kaveh held the same expression alhaitham had when he looked at you not too long ago.

“you are being an inconvenience right now, i have so much to do and i can’t deal with this right now. we can talk about it later but i’m busy right now. so please, get out of my room.”

you didn’t say anything as you left his room. alhaitham scoffing as you two saw each other before he made his way to his own room. the door shutting behind him.

you had never felt so unwelcome in a place you had grown to love and call home. but if you weren’t wanted, you knew better than to stay. to fight for a place that wasn’t yours. with that, you quietly slipped away into the night. texts and calls being missed from the both of them as you made a new life outside of them.

taglist: @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @aqualesha @linkookie197 @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @reblog-crazily @sparklylanddetective @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @maxineslair @kenmabfasf @samarill @whorerificstuff

[thewildsophia]

OK KO, Let's be Heroes!//KO x Older Sibling!Reader

A/N: I can't believe this hasn't been written before omg. I had the thought of an older sibling reader to KO rolling around in my head while watching the series and was shocked to find no fanfics with the premise. So I did it myself.

NOTE: The Reader's powers are basically Portgas D. Ace's from One Piece. If you aren't familiar, I've attached a few gifs to give you an idea of what it's like.

Word Count: 2026

"Read More Link" placed due to length.

So I can’t think of a realistic way for Reader to be a biological older sibling to KO considering the timeline of what happened.

Soooooooo…You took on the role of KO’s older sibling, even though you’re not related by blood.

[Insert tragic backstory here] and Carol had found you when you were a young teenager wandering about without a home to go to. When she found that out about you, she couldn’t in good conscience leave you alone, so she…adopted you basically. There wasn’t any paperwork involved so you just unofficially become her second child.

Carol was SHOOK when she found out about your superpower (and that’s putting it lightly, she was freaking out--).

It happened when she failed to light the fire underneath her stove a few days after you came to live with her and KO. Not thinking much about it, you held your finger up and lit the fire yourself. When she turned and saw the small fire burning on the tip of your finger she freaked tf out thinking you were hurt. 

A one-hour explanation later, she was now on board as to what power you have: You’re made out of fire and can set other things on fire just by looking at them. You even showed her some of your moves the next day faaaaar away from anything flammable. 

Carol encouraged you to become a hero and with her help you eventually did. You became a decently high-ranking hero at a young age, clocking in at level 6. 

There were a LOT of companies trying and failing to recruit you, but you chose to stay home with Carol and KO (no Carol is NOT crying-).

KO was quite young when you were “adopted,” being around 3 or 4 at the time. Because of that, he always assumed that you were his older sibling by blood and it wasn’t until one day between ages 6 to 11 that Carol told him the truth.

My boy was shocked, but it didn’t change anything between your dynamic. 

In fact, you became even more of an inspiration to him on his path to becoming a hero!

You helped Carol a lot at the fitness dojo until Carol got KO a job at Gar’s, to which Carol also had you hired to keep an eye on KO. Not that she didn’t trust him, she just knew that he could get in over his head sometimes and wanted to have someone be there to protect him. 

Talking about Gar’s, Rad and Enid absolutely ADORE you. You’re the unofficial manager appointed by them truly because you are a few levels higher than them. 

At first, when they heard they were getting two new coworkers, they didn’t think much of it. You and KO seemed nice enough so they didn’t mind having you around. 

It’s not until the Darell robot for the day comes busting into the plaza that their opinion changes. 

Just ask KO is about to get absolutely decked by Darell, you zoomed onto the scene in a blaze of fire and punched the bot, setting it on fire while also hitting it with enough force to send it back to Boxmore with KO nestled into your other arm. 

“Nobody ever touched my little brother.” You muttered under your breath while wrapping KO into your arms further to soothe him. You walk past a stunned Rad and Enid as you enter the store and get back to work.

That day, Rad and Enid also became your younger siblings. Pestering you with questions like “How did you get so strong?” and “Where did you get that power from?” Considering you’re a year or two older and much stronger you embraced the title with honor.

You actually became a little bit of a local celebrity after working at Gar’s for a while. People, locals really, would occasionally come in a ask to take a picture with you. Abashed, you said yes every time because you really couldn’t say no. Real Magic Skeleton even has a picture of you on his site with a small bio (You blushed so hard when you found out you thought you were gonna explode).

Speaking of which, KO LOVES to flaunt you around and hype you up, much to your embarrassment. He says stuff like, “Look at my cool amazingly strong older sibling!” and “My older sibling could beat up your older sibling!” 

KO means well, but he embarrasses the shit out of you.

MAD PROTECTIVE. If Carol is protective then you are on another level entirely. If someone even says something mean about KO it’s on sight. People learned very quickly that you are KO’s older sibling and that you will not hesitate to DIE to protect him (KO prays that it never comes to that).

I could see a rude customer coming in and harassing KO about Cob knows what and you just come up behind them and punch them out of the store. When Mr. Gar confronted you about it, you held your ground and stated proudly what you had done. He was honestly surprised at your resolve and didn’t punish you at all, saying “You should stick up for yourself and the ones you love.”

Lord Boxman even became a little weary about attacking the plaza knowing that you worked there and you are a pretty strong defender. That doesn’t stop him, of course, but he does strategize to combat you better.

Professor Venomous encourages Boxman to capture you and “convert” you to villainy since your power is something that could be very useful to them. You’ve heard people throughout your life make comments about how “villainous” your power is, but you never let it get to your head since you know who you are and that’s all that matters. 

Taking. Naps. Together. Seriously, if KO ever doses off during one of his shifts, you’re quick to follow him. You’ll scoop him up into your arms and sit down somewhere in the corner and fall asleep with him. Rad and Enid think it’s absolutely adorable and have several pictures of you two.

Rad and Enid will even join your cuddle pile in the break room when time permits (or when they make the time themselves).

KO will even occasionally crawl into your bed at home and sleep with you there. He says that your bed is more comfortable than his, but you really know he gets lonely sometimes.

Piggyback rides! KO loves to lounge on your shoulders and back and will often hang off of you as he does with Rad. 

You’re also just used to the feeling of holding/carrying KO that it sometimes feels weird when you haven’t for a while.

When you met TKO for the first time you kinda panicked like many of the other plaza members. It was an especially stressful time in your life (and probably much more for Carol).

TKO wasn’t that fond of you either which made everything 10x harder to deal with. He didn’t actively dislike you, it was more like he wanted nothing to do with you.

Once KO came out of that initial swap between himself and TKO, you didn’t really think much about it. 

When he mentioned some “Shadowy Figure” though you immediately began to do as much research as you could on the guy, you were determined to beat the crap out of this guy (if not kill him-).

Listening to KO cry into your and Carol’s arms blabbering about, “I’m so sorry!” and “I don’t know what he did to me!” You honestly thought this man had touched KO (I know I’m not the only one…right??). It took a lot of coaxing, but you eventually managed to understand what happened when KO told you the full story.

It’s not until Dendy begins to monitor KO and TKO that you start to give his alter much thought. You encourage KO to pursue research into his darker ego, assuming he’s okay with it of course, and offer to be someone he can talk to about it if he isn’t comfortable talking to anyone else about it. 

During some of these talks, you open up about yourself a bit to KO to make him feel better and let him know that the negative emotions he feels are normal. 

During some of the more intimate conversations, you tell him how you used to hurt people and even kill at times before Carol took you in.

KO doesn’t believe you at first. How could someone so kind and loving have killed in their life? You use that to help you explain that good people do bad things sometimes, but that doesn’t make them a bad person. 

You teach him that TKO isn’t something that he should be ashamed of and cage up in the back of his mind, but could instead be someone to rely on in times of need.

He feels a lot better after you tell him all of this.

Hugging and holding KO close to you during nights when he feels really bad about himself. Where he doubts his ability to become a good hero and to be able to harness TKO’s powers. 

You’d rock him back in forth in his bed while quietly soothing him over his crying. He asked you not to tell Mommy and you promised him that he had your word.

I could honestly see Reader lying to cover up KO’s tracks. Like KO is caught doing something he absolutely should not be doing and instead of immediately admitting fault, you would come up with some realistic yet unfeasible lie that only works about 50% of the time.

KO loves to spar with you! He learned most of his physical skills from you, stuff like punching, jumping, kicking, and all that fun stuff. You’ve never used your fire powers against him though.

There was one incident where Boxmore accidentally found out what your weakness is, that being water. A Shannon bot had thrown you into the little kiddie pool Rad and Enid had set up before the attack started.

When you jumped out of the pool soaking wet and unable to start a fire, the stupid sibling trio laughed and mocked you. Enid was quick to come in with a kick to Raymond’s head and you soon found your footing.

Boxmore learned that day not to underestimate you as even without your powers you’re still a physically strong hero.

However, it would seem that Boxman and Professor Venomous stored that data about you since some of the bots they send are equipped with water guns. You’ve gotten pretty good at dodging them, so that’s kinda cool.

You do remember one time after KO had gotten a handle over TKO where you had been drenched with a bucket of water and right as you were about to get socked by Raymond, KO had pushed you out of the way and dodged the punch himself.

You had never been more proud of KO than in that moment and you made that known to him after the fight. You ran up to him and cradled him in your arms talking about how proud you were and that he was becoming such a fine hero (that last one got him to blush a little).

Rad and Enid definitely took a picture of this and then proceeded to print out a copy and put it in the break room.

When you and KO found out that your mom was dating Mr. Gar, you both were a little unsure about how you felt. When Rad and Enid asked about it, they asked the two of you together and then asked you separately. 

Seeing as you’re the older sibling they thought that you would have had a better idea of how you feel about the whole arrangement and were bummed out when they realized that you really didn’t know how you felt. 

After the date you four hosted for Carol and Mr. Gar, both you and KO see how happy Mr. Gar makes your mom and decide that if she’s happy then you’re happy as well.

KO is honestly one of the best younger brothers you could ever ask for. He’s kind and selfless and wants to help others when he can. And in return, you are the best older sibling that KO could ever ask for.

Sorry the format looks off in some places, Tumblr just makes booty juice decisions like limiting the character limit per block to 4096 words...

[brksfm]

𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜  .  .  .

*  ──  (  aaron  liebregts  ,  twenty  -  five  ,  cis  man  ,  he  /  him  )  welcome  to  hilton  hills  ,  oliver  brooks  !  as  a  well  -  known  musician  ,  we  can’t  believe  you  traveled  all  the  way  from  derby  ,  england  in  order  to  spend  a  few  months  here  .  you’ve  made  quite  the  name  for  yourself  in  the  tabloids  as  being  -  cavalier  and  -  impulsive  ,  but  all  we  have  seen  is  how  +  creative  and  +  confident  you  are  since  you  arrived  a  few  days  ago  .  if  we  were  to  compare  you  to  anything  ,  it  would  be  confusing  your  sex  handcuffs  and  the  handcuffs  you  stole  from  the  cops  ,  screaming  ‘  im  on  top  of  the  world  ‘  from  the  top  of  the  bar  before  trying  to  stage  dive  off  of  it  into  a  crowd  of  ten  people  after  too  many  shots  ,  and  the  street  rat  running  down  the  sidewalk  with  a  slice  of  pizza  in  its  mouth  that  is  twice  its  size  .  make  sure  to  unpack  in  time  to  make  it  to  the  bonfire  tonight  !  i  hear  they  are  going  to  play  my  own  worst  enemy  by  lit  just  for  you  !  [  anna  ,  27  ,  she  /  her  ,  cst  ]

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚏𝚞𝚕  𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜  .  .  .

about  ,  introspection  ,  reflection  ,  wanted tag  ,  pinterest  ,  spotify

                                       𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘 ...

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒  +  𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

name  oliver  samuel  brooks

nicknames  brooks  ,  ollie  (  you’d  be  pushing  it  if  you  called  him  that  though  .  but  some  people  can  get  away  with  it  )

sexual  orientation  bisexual

height  6  foot  2  inches

hair  color  brunette

eye  color  blue

hometown  manchester  ,  england

languages  english

positive  charming  ,  confident  ,  creative  ,  extroverted

negative  careless  ,  distant  ,  flaky  ,  impulsive  ,  a  total  dumbass

zodiac  sagittarius  sun  ,  gemini  moon  ,  aries  rising

aesthetics  hand  rolling  cigarettes  in  the  middle  of  an  important  meeting  ,  singing  ’  pour  some  sugar  on  me  ’  at  a  bar  at  3am  with  a  stranger  ,  having  dark  circles  and  messy  hair  as  part  of  the  ’  aesthetic  ’  ,  confusing  your  sex  handcuffs  and  the  handcuffs  you  stole  from  the  cops  ,  posting  intentional  thirst  traps  on  social  media  with  the  caption  ’  i  can’t  believe  people  actually  post  stuff  like  this  lol  ’  ,  &  screaming  ’  i’m  on  top  of  the  world  ’  while  standing  on  top  of  a  bar  before  trying  to  stage  dive  off  of  it  into  a  crowd  of  ten  people  after  too  many  shots  .

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

        born  in  manchester  ,  england  ,  his  mother  was  a  well-respected  surgeon  while  his  dad  was  a  politician  .  they  could  do  no  wrong  in  the  eyes  of  everyone  ,  which  in  turn  ,  neither  could  brooks  .  he  was  constantly  under  their  surveillance  ,  making  sure  he  didn’t  ruin  their  reputation  .  it  was  this  way  his  whole  life  ,  which  led  to  him  attempting  to  ‘  run  away  ’  when  he  was  around  11  ,  12  ,  and  15  .  then  when  he  was  17  ,  he  was  successful  .  he  hasn’t  spoken  to  his  parents  except  for  a  handful  of  times  .  they  tell  the  rest  of  their  extended  family  and  friends  that  brooks  is  going  to  a  respected  college  in  the  states  and  pursuing  a  career  in  the  medical  field  .

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 & 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏

         when  he  first  moved  to  america  ,  he  settled  near  manhattan  and  ended  up  living  wherever  he  could  day  -  to  -  day  .  he’d  stay  with  friends  ,  random  hookups  ,  in  motels  ,  anywhere  he  could  to  sleep  for  the  night  but  at  the  beginning  it  was  just  a  lot  of  park  benches  since  he  had  no  idea  what  he  was  doing  .  during  these  few  years  being  homeless  ,  he  turned  to  selling  drugs  to  get  a  bit  of  cash  for  food  ,  motels  ,  clothes  .          what  he  wasn’t  prepared  for  was  the  fact  that  he  was  going  to  dabble  in  these  drugs  himself  .  it  really  became  an  issue  when  he  started  using  up  most  of  his  supply  .  the  drug  dealing  didn’t  last  long  ,  but  there  was  one  good  thing  that  came  out  of  it  .  brooks  used  some  of  the  money  to  buy  a  guitar  and  teach  himself  how  to  play  ,  trying  to  find  something  that  he  was  good  at  after  feeling  like  he  had  failed  at  everything  else  when  he  was  growing  up  .  like  a  break  in  the  clouds  ,  the  sun  shining  through  ,  he  ended  up  having  potential  and  started  going  to  dive  bars  to  perform  short  acoustic  sets  .  eventually  ,  he  found  a  few  other  people  ,  started  a  band  where  he  was  the  lead  vocalist  and  rhythm  guitarist  ,  and  a  year  later  at  the  age  of  21  ,  they  moved  out  to  los  angeles  ,  california  .

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑

          at  age  23  ,  brooks  had  made  a  bit  of  a  name  for  himself  when  he  started  dating  a  well  known  socialite  /  celebrity  .  they  seemed  to  be  quite  the  it  couple  for  the  time  they  were  together  ,  but  things  quickly  fell  apart  that’s  to  brooks’  toxic  behavior  .

        shit  REALLY  hit  the  fan  after  they  broke  up  and  brooks’  decided  to  leak  a  sex  tape  that  they  had  made  together  .  for  no  other  reason  than  a  bit  of  frustration  and  no  morals  .  and  maybe  for  a  bit  of  that  clout  .  and  it  worked  .  brooks  definitely  gained  a  bit  of  a  following  after  that  happened  and  he  started  performing  with  his  band  at  larger  venues  as  well  as  landing  a  spot  as  the  opener  for  a  pretty  popular  punk  rock  band  on  a  nation  wide  tour  .

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘

        after  that  little  taste  of  fame  ,  brooks  continued  to  pull  crazy  stunts  to  try  and  stay  in  the  spotlight  but  it  has  been  a  year  since  the  tour  ended  and  they  still  haven’t  managed  to  get  many  shows  .  maybe  it’s  because  of  all  of  the  shit  he  pulled  while  on  tour  but  fuck  it  ,  he’s  living  his  best  life  .        or  ,  he  was  living  his  best  life  until  he  ended  up  being  dropped  from  the  band  a  few  months  ago  .  since  then  ,  he  has  been  taking  the  time  to  ‘  soul  search  ‘  back  in  his  hometown  of  manchester  ,  england  .  but  getting  tired  of  spending  his  days  in  the  same  city  where  he  grew  up  ,  he  decided  to  head  back  to  the  states  and  rent  out  a  house  in  the  hilton  hills  for  the  summer  months  .  now  if  only  he  could  focus  on  the  soul  searching  instead  of  when  the  next  party  with  an  open  bar  is  .

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

•  let’s  not  even  try  to  beat  around  the  bush  .  the  boy  is  a  dumbass  .  like  who  even  let  him  graduate  middle  school  ?  who  said  ’  yeah  sure  …  he  knows  enough  ’  .  okay  to  be  fair  ,  he  is  more  book  smart  than  like  …  common  sense  ,  but  still  .  he  is  just  going  with  the  flow  .

•  brooks  is  really  just  trying  to  find  himself  .  he  wants  love  ,  friends  ,  family  ,  but  when  they  get  too  close  he  runs  .  he  really  isn’t  sure  what  he  is  running  from  .  being  hurt  ?  commitment  ?  who  knows  …  cause  he  doesn’t  .  he  just  feels  like  it’s  better  to  get  out  before  the  other  person  leaves  .

•  will  throw  hands  if  you  try  to  tell  him  not  to  do  something  .  he  doesn’t  need  that  kind  of  good  influence  in  his  life  (  yes  he  does  .  but  he  will  refuse  to  listen  .  a  five  year  old  tantrum  bout  to  be  thrown  ?  mayhaps  )  .

•  he  flirts  .  a  lot  .  will  call  you  baby  /  babe  or  some  other  pet  name  and  it’s  probably  annoying  ?  but  like  also  ,  he  sucks  with  remembering  names  so  …  babe  will  suffice  .  if  you  ask  him  ,  he  gives  price  charming  a  run  for  his  money  but  really  …  he’s  no  better  than  a  tiktok  boys  biting  his  lip  while  looking  at  you  from  the  other  side  of  the  bar  .

•  genuinely  just  loves  to  have  a  good  time  ,  but  he’s  also  a  terrible  drunk  .  like  with  the  right  amount  of  alcohol  ,  he  will  be  the  drunk  friend  to  hype  you  up  and  tell  you  how  good  you  look  ,  but  also  if  he  crosses  that  line  ,  he  can  be  a  bit  aggressive  and  grumpy  .  recently  ,  his  alcohol  intake  has  increased  so  ..  the  aggressiveness  is  definitely  more  noticeable  nowadays  .

𝘪𝘧  𝘺𝘰𝘶  𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵  𝘵𝘰  𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥  𝘵𝘩𝘦  𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭  𝘣𝘪𝘰  ,  𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬  𝘵𝘩𝘦  𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬  𝘶𝘱  𝘵𝘰𝘱  !  𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵  𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯  𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘴  𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦  𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘴  ,  𝘢  𝘧𝘦𝘸  𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦  𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺  𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘴  ,  𝘢  𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬  𝘢𝘵  𝘩𝘪𝘴  𝘻𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘤  𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘵  ,  𝘢𝘯𝘥  𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴  !

[tricksters-captain]

Benedict Bridgerton / Anthony Bridgerton Imagines - Best Man Wins Part 3

AN: Here’s part 3! A little bit of a filler chapter but I promise things will start to pick up quickly!

(🎶🎶🎶) = Link to song

Overall Summary:  Entering a society you thought you had left behind, you find yourself in a tricky triangle with two gentleman you never thought you’d fall for.

This Chapter: A sibling rivalry like no other. 

(PART 1) // (PART 2)

Pairing(s): Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,169

Warnings: None

Anthony reentered the Bridgerton house to see Benedict sat on the settee with Eloise and Francesca munching on some chocolates that Francesca had received as a gift that morning. 

“Benedict, may I have a word?” Anthony asked, pulling off his gloves as he entered the drawing room. 

“Go ahead, Brother.” Benedict said through a mouthful of chocolate. 

“Privately.” Anthony shot a look at his sisters to which neither moved. 

Benedict sighed as everyone in the family knew of the girls stubbornness and so he left the room with Anthony.

They entered Anthony’s study where Benedict sat down in the corner on a comfy chair and Anthony leant against his desk.

“What is it, Brother?” Benedict asked, popping a chocolate he had brought with him in his mouth. 

“What are your intentions with (Y/n) (Y/l/n)?” Anthony asked with complete seriousness. 

Benedict chuckled lightly as he leant forward. 

“What ever do you mean, Brother?” Benedict pondered. 

“I know you paid her a call today. And you danced with her last night.” Anthony informed his younger brother. 

“So?” Benedict couldn’t understand why his brother was being so serious. 

“Do you wish to marry this girl?” Anthony asked the same question as his mother had to him. 

“Anthony. She’s a beautiful woman. The most beautiful I’ve seen in a very long time. If I wish to spend time with her, it doesn’t mean I wish to marry her. Why are you so curious about this one? I’ve danced with many other girls before.” Benedict had an idea. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that Anthony had paid (Y/n) a visit too that day. 

“You haven’t sent flowers to a girl before.” Anthony stated. Which was the truth, none of them had. 

“Neither have you, Brother.” Benedict retorted. 

“Seems we have a situation here.” Anthony folded his arms across his chest. 

“Seems we do.” Benedict rose to his feet and mimicked his older brother. 

“I say...” Anthony sighs. “...We both can spend time with Miss (Y/l/n) if we wish and if anything comes of it then we shall see just which brother she prefers.” 

Benedict could see the mischievous glint in his brother’s eye. 

“But we do not let this get in the way of the family. If this spirals out of our control and comes between us then we both agree to leave the girl alone?” Anthony added. 

“Agreed.” Benedict held out his hand and the brothers shook on it. 

Surely this was just harmless courting... there wasn’t any wedding bells ringing just yet...

After a long day of suitors, you decided to flop on the settee with your book and curl up comfortably, munching on some of the treats that were brought to you today. 

“Oh sit up, (Y/n).” Your mother chided you as she went to leave the room. “It’s  unladylike.”

“There are currently no men in this house. I may sit how I please.” You argued as you popped another macaroon into your mouth just to irritate her. 

“Stop eating all those sweets too! We have another event to attend tomorrow night and you don’t want me instructing the tightening of your corset if you are bloated because of it.” Your mother called back before disappearing into the house. 

You groaned and pushed the pack away, taking only one extra. 

You felt the sun through the window find it’s way to your face, warming you. It truly was a lovely day outside and you had been stuck indoors the entire time. 

“Lottie!” You called out as you pushed yourself to your feet. 

“Yes Miss.” She appeared quickly as she flattened her skirt. 

“I shall like to take a stroll.” You announced, putting down the book that you had failed to read all day 

“I shall fetch your coat and cap, miss.” Lottie rushed out into the hall to which you followed. 

You tied your cap to your head and Lottie helped you with your coat before you left the house. 

You walked in silence, raising your head slightly to feel the sun as Lottie followed a short distance behind you. 

“Miss (Y/l/n)!” A girls voice cried out. 

You looked across the street towards the park where you spotted two young girls heading towards you. 

You recognised the both of them from the night before. One had the familiar chestnut hair of the Bridgerton family and the other a rather bright red head of hair. 

“I don’t know if you remember me, Miss (Y/l/n) but I’m Penelope Featherington.” Penelope lowered her head as she greeted you with a bright smile. 

“Of course I remember you, Miss Featherington.” You had some recollection of an orange haired tot. 

“Please call me Penelope.” Penelope insisted. 

“And you must call me Eloise. I remember how kind you used to be offering for me to play with you and Daphne when all I wanted to do was play with Colin and the boys.” Eloise greeted you with the same enthusiasm. 

“It’s pleasure to see you again, Eloise. And I must extend the same invitation, you both must call me (Y/n).” You were thankful for their warm welcome. Before this social season you were terrified no one would wish to speak to you after your fathers scandal. 

“You simply must promenade with us!” Eloise took hold of your arm as she guided you towards the park.

“How is your brother Colin? I remember how he used to pull Daphne’s hair and make her scream for your mother.” You couldn’t help but giggle at your childhood memories. 

“He is off seeing the world. He left after the last season and only seems to come back for a handful of weeks at a time.” Eloise explained. He had always been the naughtiest of the Bridgeton siblings yet the one who seemingly could always get away with murder. 

“And your sisters, Penelope?” You queried. 

“Still unmarried despite Mother’s attempts to sell them to then men of the ton.” Penelope mumbled to your enjoyment. 

The three of you laughed together as you walked through the park. 

“Mother has not stopped talking about you since she saw you last night. I believe she’s already written Daphne three letters insisting they come down to London earlier than they had planned.” Eloise told you as she squeezed your arm. 

“Oh goodness. I hope Daphne doesn’t trouble herself and rush down just to see me. We haven’t seen each other in lord knows how long.” You shook your head at Violet’s attempt to rekindle old relationships.

“11 years to be exact.” Eloise spoke up. You furrowed your eyebrows at her in curiosity and amusement. 

“Lady Whistledown.” Penelope explained for her. 

“That woman really does know everything, doesn’t she?” You chuckled. 

“Incredible woman, I think. I’ve searched for her but my efforts have resulted in nothing so far.” Eloise pouted at the idea she hasn’t been the genius to unmask the anonymous writer. 

You felt yourself shiver slightly as the wind blew past the three of you. The clouds had made the sky overcast and the wind had picked up sending through a chill. 

“You must come back with me and Penelope and have some tea to warm up. You can’t walk all the way back to your house in this cold. You can borrow one of our carriages.” Eloise took notice of your shudder and you couldn’t refuse in a polite way as she was right and so you found yourself at the Bridgerton house front door. 

“Mama! I have a guest!” Eloise announced loudly in the house which made you laugh again. Eloise hadn’t become any more ladylike than she had been as a toddler. 

“Eloise, you mustn't shout.” Violet had begun to scold Eloise as she exited the drawing room but her face lit up at the sight of you. 

“Miss (Y/l/n)!” Violet’s face shone as she announced your name. 

“Please, Lady Bridgeton, call me (Y/n).” You squeezed her hands as she took hold of your own. 

“(Y/n), I believe I told you to call me Violet.” She gave you a jesting warning stare and you nodded with a smile. 

“Violet.” You started. “I’m sorry to arrive unannounced, I bumped into Eloise and Penelope in the park and Eloise insisted I come back to warm up.” 

“No worries, my dear! No worries at all! I’ll have a fresh pot of tea brought up with some cakes and biscuits.” Violet guided you all into the drawing room to which you spotted Francesca playing the pianoforte. 

“(Y/n)!” Francesca paused her playing to greet you. 

“Oh my goodness. I thought Eloise had grown so much. Now look at you!” You gushed over the beautiful girl. “Both of you have blossomed into such beautiful women.”

“Thank you.” Francesca smiled warmly at you. “But I am not the seasons incomparable, that is you.” 

“As Whistledown writes.” You mutter. 

“As the reaction from the ton’s men last night proclaimed.” Eloise laughed along with her sister. 

“Still, I gather you’ve been busy today with callers.” You gestured to the flower displays around the room.

“Not as busy as your residence. I hear every man in the ton went to call on you today.” Francesca brushed off her own accomplishments. 

“I bet it’s exhausting. Constantly, ‘hello, oh yes thank you for the flowers that will die in a couple of weeks if not days, goodbye, hello, oh yes thank you, goodbye, oh hello, another man coming with the intention to enslave me as his wife’...” Eloise mocked the gentleman which made you burst out in laughter that you could not contain. 

“I’m glad to know you find my sister as amusing as she finds herself.” Anthony’s voice seemed to come from nowhere. 

You spun around to see him stood in the doorway. Just as handsome as he was earlier that day. 

“Lord Bridgerton.” You bowed your head in greeting to which he replied with the same.

“I was just coming to find my mother.” Anthony told you. “But I am glad to have found you instead.”

“Are you saying you’d rather see someone more than your dear mother?” Violet came up behind Anthony with a maid holding a tray of tea beside her. 

“There are very few people I’d rather see than you, Mother.” Anthony tried to charm his mother but she only responded with a ‘hmmmm’. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. 

The maid placed the tray down and Violet began to pour cups of tea.

“Tea, Anthony?” She asked her eldest who had been watching you as you sat down on the settee beside Eloise and Penelope.

“Just a small cup, please, Mother. I had intended to go to the club shortly.” Anthony sat himself down on the opposite settee, his attentions never leaving you.

You glanced towards the man and felt your cheeks flush slightly at his bold stare. 

 “Where has Benedict got too?” Eloise questioned her older brother. 

“I believe he is in the back garden getting some air.” Anthony responded, finally letting his attention move from you over to his sister. 

“It was lovely all day until just now, the clouds covering the sun suddenly made the temperature drop.” You spoke up as you took your tea from Violet. 

“It has been one of our colder starts to the season.” Violet sighed. 

“I don’t mind it being colder than usual. Saves me from sweating through my ridiculous dresses.” Eloise stated which earned a disapproving look from her mother.

“Eloise!” Violet scolded her quietly. 

“It’s quite alright. I must agree that conditions can become quite unpleasant in the summer when we are expected to look our best.” You were on Eloise’s side. It had been terrible working hot summer days in the thick second hand dresses you often wore as a lady’s companion. 

“I bet summer by the sea was enjoyable these past few years however?” Anthony asked as if he had read your mind. 

“Indeed. We were very fortunate.” You didn’t want to expand on the matter as your mother had warned you about speaking of your previous life before society. 

“What did you do all these years out in the country?” Eloise pressed but fortunately Violet cut in. 

“Eloise enough! (Y/n) has not been here five minutes, she does not need your interrogation.” Violet quietened Eloise to which you were grateful. 

You sent her a subtle smile which Anthony didn’t miss. 

He had too wondered what your life had been like after your father’s scandal but he knew it wasn’t his place to ask... yet. 

“I hear from Eloise that you sent Daphne news of my arrival?” You were the one to initiate change of topic. 

“Oh yes! Daphne has written back and has expressed just how terribly excited she is to see you again, Dear.” Violet smiled widely as she thought on the letter. 

“I can’t imagine just how beautiful she must be now after seeing Eloise and Francesca so grown.” You were excited to see your old playmate but you also felt nervous. Daphne had always been the pretty one, the clever one out of the two of you. After seeing the other Bridgerton daughters, you couldn’t even begin to picture what Daphne looked like now. 

“She was named her season’s incomparable, however, I fear that may not have been true if you had returned earlier.” Anthony placed his cup down and smirked mischievously at you. 

“It is a good thing that (Y/n) returned this year instead then.” Violet sent Anthony a sideways glance.

“Mother, may I steal our guest away for a tour of the house since she has not visited in such a long while?” Anthony had a playful look in his eyes which his mother never failed to notice. 

“If (Y/n) agrees to it.” Violet looked towards you. 

“That would be lovely. I was only just gushing over the wisteria from the house in Benedict’s bouquet earlier today.” You suddenly regretted your choice of words as you said them. It was awkward enough for you to have received flowers from both brothers only for you to mention it in front of everyone. 

“I assured Benedict you’d like them.” Violet only smiled warmly as Fran and Eloise shared a look. 

Anthony rose to his feet and offered you his arm. 

He lead you from the drawing you and began his tour.

“I must admit I didn’t expect to be seeing you again so soon.” Anthony smirked as you walked alongside him. 

“I simply ran into Eloise and Penelope in the park and Eloise insisted I visit and use one of your carriages to travel home.” You explained again even though you had mentioned it earlier. “If that’s still alright, of course.”

“I insist. The walk to your residence may not be very long but in the wind it can be disagreeable.” Anthony looked straight ahead as he spoke which allowed you a closer view at his side profile. He had a strong jaw and the curve of his lips was enhanced by the light from the window ahead which made you nibble down on your own. It was almost enough to make you forget it was rude to stare.

“I feel I must apologise for my intrusion. You had told your mother you were meant to be heading for the gentleman’s club. I fear I am keeping you.” You tried to keep from a silence falling between you two. 

“Believe me, Miss (Y/l/n), there is nothing I would rather be doing than this right at this moment.” Anthony glanced down at you with honest eyes. It caused your chest to tighten. 

“I must admit I find that hard to believe.” You tried to hide your smile as you tested the man. 

“Is that so?” Anthony cocked his eyebrow at you. “And what do you suppose I would find more interesting than spending this time with you?” 

“Oh boyish things I suppose. Watching boxing, gambling, visiting the theatre after hours.” You smiled as you listed off the events on your fingers. 

“Are you insinuating I visit the theatre’s after hours? I thought we had already discussed these matters earlier, Miss (Y/l/n)?” Anthony feigned hurt as he spoke. 

“Discussed? No. I’d say we approached the topic of your rakish reputation before my mother interrupted and you fled the house.” You were having too much fun with this. 

“Fled? Now that is where I have to disagree. I would never flee anywhere.” Anthony continued walking you through the house as you conversed. 

You spotted from a distance, the backdoor of the house was ajar and through the window you could see Benedict sat in the garden with a book and a pencil. 

Was Benedict an artist?

As you grew closer to the backdoor you suddenly felt a nervosa rise in your stomach. You didn’t think you were quite ready to speak to both Anthony and Benedict alone. 

“Do you suppose we should return to the drawing room before Eloise starts conspiring where we have gotten too?” You stopped in your step to try and turn both you and Anthony around. 

“You’re right. I don’t doubt she has already been gossiping with miss Featherington about our whereabouts.” Anthony turned on his heels and you both started back to the drawing room. 

“Will I be expecting to see you at the Helliwell’s ball the day after the next?” Anthony asked as you drew closer to company once again. 

“Yes. My Mama has already accepted the invitation so we will be attending.” You informed him. 

“Well, until then, Miss (Y/l/n).” Anthony stopped just before you reached the door to the drawing room and faced you. He pressed a light kiss to your knuckles and hovered your hand before his lips. “I must be off to the club now but I will send a carriage for you before I go.”  

“Thank you, Lord Bridgerton.” You nodded your head politely. 

“Please, it’s Anthony.” Anthony smirked at you, refraining from sending you a wink as he backed away. 

“Is that Anthony off, dearest?” Violet asked as you reentered the drawing room. 

“Yes.” You nodded. “Which does remind me that I must be off home before my mother worries I've been gone too long.” 

“Well, it’s been lovely seeing you, Dear.” Violet rose from her seat and embraced you warmly. 

“Thank you for having me.” You hugged her back with a grateful smile. “I will be back soon no doubt.” 

“I’ll be holding you to that.” Violet held her finger to you with a gay squint. 

You heard the horses out front and you knew this was your cue to leave. 

You bid farewell to Penelope, Francesca and Eloise before entering the carriage.

As you looked back at the house, you felt something arise in you. It was a worrying feeling. A worry that the attention from both the Bridgerton men was going to get you into trouble or worse...

(Next part soon!)

If you’d like to be added to the taglist then either private message me, leave an ask in my inbox or comment on here! 

[five-rivers]

Prompt idea: Tucker and Dr. Jackson having a discussion and/or argument about ancient Egypt.

Mayyyyy be a little OOC for Dr. Jackson. For some reason I was able to find Hammond's voice but not his? Even though he was one of my favorite Stargate Characters? Incredible.

.

.

.

"Dr. Jackson."

Daniel started, almost knocking his (empty) coffee cup off the table, and scattering several pieces of paper and books. He pulled a sticky note off his face before turning his full attention to General Hammond.

"What?"

"Another late night, I see."

Daniel waved vaguely at the books. "The ghoa'uld problem isn't going to solve itself." Although, if he were being honest, his main concern was Sha're in particular. Right now, he was going over legends from planets the ghoa'uld had more or less abandoned, comparing them to the mythology of ancient Egypt, cross-referencing carvings and inscriptions on extraterrestrial ruins with terrestrial ones with glimpses of active ghoa'uld sites.

Anything that might provide insight into how the ghoa'uld thought, into their history, into how they acted, into what moves they might make.

He had to squeeze time for this in between missions, because, of course, even he, bookworm that he was, knew that primary sources, accounts of living people, were so much more valuable--

But General Hammond was talking.

"I'm sorry, what?" asked Daniel.

General Hammond sighed. "I've gotten you an assistant."

"A what?"

"An assistant. We're also considering him for the linguist position with either SG-9 or SG-11, contingent on your recommendation."

"That, uh-" Daniel pushed his glasses up his nose. "That sounds more like you want me to train him, than that he's going to be my assistant."

"I just want to know whether or not he's up for it. He comes very highly recommended as a linguist and Egyptologist, and he has combat experience. It's a combination you don't see all too often, but going off-world isn't for everyone. If you happen to get him up to speed on off-world languages at the same time..." Hammond shrugged.

Daniel rubbed his face. "When do I meet him?"

"Now." Hammond took a step back and opened the door. "Mr. Foley, you can come in now."

Daniel felt his face twist into an expression of disgust and horror even as the other man lit up like a lightbulb.

"You!" said Daniel.

"You!" said Tucker Foley, gleefully.

"How did you know I worked here?"

"I had no idea! This is great! It's been years. Heard you were dead, didn't believe it. How's life? Looks like you found your aliens, huh?"

Daniel turned to Hammond. "You can't hire him," he said. "He's insane. He used to claim he was the reincarnation of Pharaoh Duulaman."

"Oh, come on, man, that was ages ago. And your theories were considered pretty fringe, too."

"I'd always get shoved next to him at talks and conferences, and he somehow made me look even more like a crackpot by association. And my theories were right."

"I know," said Foley, looking hurt. "I knew, then, too. That's why I tried to back you up."

"You were the exact opposite of backup," hissed Daniel.

"I... take it you two know each other," said Hammond. "Any other surprises I should know about?"

"My friend Danny Fenton works here. I don't know what he does, though."

"Danny F- Siler's civilian assistant? Wait, wait, wait, he's not your ghost hunting friend, is he? We do not have someone who believes in ghosts working on the Stargate."

"You believe in aliens," said Foley, now somewhat testy.

"I have seen aliens, with my own two eyes!"

"Well, I could say that about a lot of things!"

This would not help him find Sha're. In fact, it might even drive him to an early grave. He looked at Hammond imploringly.

Hammond raised his hands. "The two of you are both experts in your fields. I'm sure you can work things out." And then he left.

Traitor.

"So," drawled Foley, picking up one of Daniel's notebooks. "Tell me about your aliens. Do they really still speak Egyptian? Something that's recognizably Egyptian? That's some remarkable linguistic stability there."

Daniel snatched his notebook back. "Some of them do. The ghoa'uld are incredibly-" cruel, his mind supplied. He swallowed. "Long lived. The stability isn't as impressive as it seems."

"If you say so," said Foley. "I mean, I know my vocabulary changes from month to month, so..." He trailed off. "What about the rest of them?"

"What?"

"Some of them speak Egyptian, or one of the forms of Egyptian, we've got to go over that, I'm sure, what about the rest?"

Daniel waved a hand. "All sorts of different dialects. It does seem mostly to derive from Egyptian, with some other ancient languages thrown in... PIE roots."

"So their main point of contact with Earth was Egypt, but they interacted with other cultures?"

"Seems that way," said Daniel, grudgingly, collapsing back into his seat.

"You'd think they'd have more Chinese, just from numbers alone... Or maybe the reason certain cultures flourished while other failed is because of their influence?"

Daniel shrugged.

"If they had spaceships, why the reliance on the Stargate?"

"Ra wanted Earth for himself and hid it from the other system lords," said Daniel. "So when the gate was buried, there were no records."

"Makes some sense. Why didn't he ever come back?"

"The rebellion?"

"Sure, but he could have done, uh, what was the term? Orbital bombardment. Rebellions of people armed with spears aren't going to last long against something like that. Unless Ra died in the rebellion?"

"No, he only died a few years ago."

"Fair, fair, but that means something's missing. I mean, if I were him, you know, a dictator with spaceships, and there's a whole planet I've been getting resources from like that, I'm not going to take getting kicked out well."

"Maybe," said Daniel. "We'll probably never know for sure. It was thousands of years ago."

"Mhm," said Foley, contemplatively, his eyes slightly unfocused, as if he was staring off into the distance. He blinked. "Well," he said. "You're probably right."

"What, you're not going to make comments about how your past life would know?"

"Why would I? It isn't like you'd believe me, so it's beside the point. When was the last time you slept, anyway? Usually you aren't this curmudgeonly."

"I was sleeping, before you interrupted."

"You have a cot in here?"

"Yeah," said Daniel, not mentioning that he hadn't actually seen the cot in a while.

"Where? Actually, no, Danny does this all the time. You've got to sleep in a real bed."

"Give me that book," said Daniel, ignoring Foley. "If I've got to start teaching you ghoa'uld, I want to make it fast."

"That's cold."

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 17 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Spencer is concerned about Reader’s growing impulsiveness, but Reader is the one who gets a call from JJ asking if she can come get her boyfriend. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader 
 Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) 
 Content Warning: Discussions of drugs, death/dying, suicide, overdose; Alcohol, addiction, oral (male receiving), handjob, fingering, Daddy Kink, fights, PTSD, hospital talk, drunk smut w/ blanket consent Word Count: 12.5k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

When I opened the front door, I realized that I had returned to an empty home. I wasn’t sure which was weirder; the realization that the house was empty, or the fact that I was referring to her apartment as my home. It certainly had started to feel that way.

It never stopped being a shock that I would find a home in someone so quickly and with such little self-awareness. I'd certainly never suspected   that the house we’d be in would also be shared with several other people, all of whom were significantly younger than me and shared almost no similarities with me beyond our love for (y/n).

And even if it wasn’t the weirder of the two realizations, the fact that she wasn’t there was definitely the more troubling one. I tried to gather at least a little evidence before I called her; I wasn’t exactly excited about being blindsided again. Judging by the red solo cups that were scattered in the kitchen, I had an idea of how her friends had spent the night. The fact that no one was here led me to another conclusion that I desperately hoped was inaccurate.

Her phone rang four times before she picked up, which was strange in itself. When she did pick up, she sounded like I expected her to. Tired. Groggy.

“Hello?”

“Hey little girl, where are you?” I hoped she couldn’t hear the fumbling of my keys in my pocket, or any other sign of just how anxious I’d gotten in the last three minutes. “Oh. I’m sorry, Spencer, I forgot I was supposed to see you today.” She mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic if not a little confused.

“You… forgot?” I repeated, quickly making my way over to the calendar hung on a bulletin board outside the kitchen, noting the nothingness over both the current and following week.

“Yeah, I guess I got carried away with school.”

She was lying. I couldn’t be for sure about what, but it was obvious. If she was really having that much trouble with classes, she would have told me. We’d gotten past the whole insecurity over me thinking she was stupid thing a long time ago, and she knew I would always let her learn it on her own if she didn’t want my help.

“... What are you not telling me?” I tried to make the words playful, although my hand was now nervously patting the side of my hip at an alarming rate.

“Nothing! I just got distracted. I’m... a little busy today so we should just meet up again next weekend.”

“A week?” I knew she was probably getting tired of me parroting her words, but that just seemed like a ludicrous amount of time. Usually, we went barely a day or two without seeing each other when I was in the city, cherishing the time together when I wasn't called away to attend to crimes halfway across the country.  

“What’s going on?” My voice was quickly falling into that register that warned her I was about to start profiling her, whether I wanted to or not. And unfortunately, she chose the worst possible reaction to that warning, further tipping me off to the fact that something wasn't quite right.

“Spencer, stop being weird.”

But I wasn’t. I knew that I could be weird; it’s kind of my thing. If you looked up weird in the dictionary, you wouldn’t find my name, but you’d definitely find a description that perfectly characterized my personality.

“You’re the one being weird. Turn on your camera.”

“I can’t. It’s dark in here.” She shot back her answer so quickly, I knew that she had already anticipated the request.

“Then move.” I ordered more than suggested. She understandably didn’t take kindly to my reaction, but I know she also knew why I was doing it. The excuses she was giving weren’t even well thought out.

“What is this? An interrogation?” She scoffed, “Do you think I’m cheating on you with barely dissolved stitches in my intestines?”

I took a deep breath, sitting down at the kitchen table still sticky with leftover sugary liquor and turned the phone onto speaker. “Turn it on.” This time, my voice broke with the order. As much as that didn’t make it sound authoritative, it did make her feel guilty.

As the screen lit up, it all made sense in the worst possible way. She was forcing a fake smile, her other hand resting against her face in a failed attempt to draw attention away from the the mottled skin of her left eye.

“I’m not cheating on you. Happy?” The words were sharp on her tongue, an anger in her features paired well with the understanding that I wasn’t wrong to be worried. I honestly think that was what bothered her the most – that she wanted it to be nothing, for me to be overreacting, but knew that it was a little more serious that she let on.  

“I’m definitely not happy. What happened?” I was already at the door by the time the sentence ended... She shut off her camera just as quickly, hearing the commotion from my side. “Where are you? I’m coming right now.”

She sighed, and I could see it clearly despite the fact that she wasn’t on my screen anymore. “I don’t want you to come here. Spencer, I’m fine.”

I might have believed her. I might have honestly given her the benefit of the doubt – let her lie to me a little, and just accept that a black eye wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. Eventually, she would tell me how she got it, so I wouldn’t need to worry about it.

But it became very obvious very quickly that it was not just a black eye.

“Ms. (Y/l/n)?” A third voice announced in the background, accompanied by the distinct sound of an alarm sounding in the distance.

“... Are you in a hospital?!”

“For fucks sake. I hate dating a profiler.” She grumbled, implicitly admitting that my conclusion was right. She wouldn’t let me have another word, speedily slurring her goodbye. “I have to go, Spencer. I’ll call you later. Love you!”

—————————————————

Anyone who has spent a long time in inpatient knows that nosy nurses are both the best and worst kind of people to be assigned to your stay. They were the best because they always had the best gossip and would spend their precious little free time sharing stories about their lives that were always more entertaining than whatever poorly budgeted gameshow was on the old, staticky television.

They were the worst because one wrong move meant that you were the subject of gossip. And boy, were they good at getting it out of you.

“Trouble in paradise?” She sweetly hummed as she pushed my bed down the hall.

I wanted to tell her that there was trouble, and that it was through no fault of my own. If the other people in the hospital didn’t have the audacity to be sick at the same time that I needed a CT scan, then I wouldn’t have even still been here. I could have been back at home, where… well, I guess Spencer would have figured it out either way.

“Yeah, I guess.” I sadly admitted, playing with the string of my gown. “He’s just a worrywart.”

The woman had that glimmer in her eye, the kind that came from years of seeing the same stories over and over again. Although, I had a hard time believing she’d ever been in this exact scenario, I guess they were all kind of the same after a while, semantics aside.

“Well, that makes sense considering your current state.” It was more of a reprimand than anything else, and I audibly groaned to try and get her to stop there. She didn’t, though, having spent enough time with me to know I needed to hear it. “You were very lucky, you know. If things had been even just a little bit different…”

Couldn’t you say that about everything? If things had been even just a little bit different, I never would have met Spencer in the first place. We never would have fallen in love or fought or done any of it at all.

I didn’t like thinking about that. I didn’t like even considering a life without Spencer. No matter how much pain I’d been through, or what traumatic memories were dug up, they were worth it.

That’s what she wanted me to realize, and she had succeeded. Suddenly, as we turned into the room, I was overcome with guilt at the way I’d ended my conversation with him.

The nurse knew it, too, because as she transferred me onto the scanner, she smiled. “I’m just saying, sweetheart. If he woke up next to your hospital bed last time, I understand why he’d be scared.”

Chewing on my lips, I thought about the last time I was in a hospital. I thought about how Spencer had curled his giant lanky body onto the bed and barely slept for 2 weeks. I could see the way his eyes got more sunken by the day, but never stopped shining with relief. I could hear him chewing on ice because he didn’t want to leave to grab food until after I’d woken up, and the cold would distract him from just how hungry he was.

“He must love you an awful lot to be that worried.”

I hated when they did that; when they read my mind and said exactly what I was thinking.

“Yeah, I know.” I tried to smile. It was hard with the stabbing pain in my stomach and the aching in the entire left side of my face, but I managed. It was just one of those things where if I thought of Spencer, my body had to react. It was as natural as breathing.

Which, speaking of…

“Take a deep breath in.” The technician alerted me from the speaker.

The high pitched whines of the CT scanner weren’t as obnoxious as the MRI machine. I was silently grateful that they were still too scared to use the giant magnet. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be stuck in a confined space, listening to loud banging that sounded too much like gun shots for my comfort.

Even just the thought made me nauseous. I felt like a baby, to have such a strong reaction to something so stupid. I’d been in an MRI before. I was a in a hospital. Nothing bad was going to happen to me, and I knew that.

But even now, in a machine that made virtually no noise and barely covered half my body, I wasn’t able to hold in a breath. Each time I tried, it felt like I was choking on Spencer’s lap again. The stinging in my stomach felt so much stronger, even though I knew it was healed.

The world felt like it was closing in on me, and every second that passed felt like days. I couldn’t even trust myself to guess how long it took for them to get images that should have taken no longer than 5 minutes.

I felt like such a burden. Like I was in their way. Like I was doing it wrong. Like I was a little kid, thinking that she knew what she was doing and could do it on her own.

I wanted Spencer.

That was the only thing I could think, and although it should have been comforting, it just left me feeling empty. The thought of him wasn’t enough to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. The hands of the nurses trying to calm me down didn’t help, either. They felt wrong. They felt cold.

I just wanted Spencer. I wanted him to be there to hold my hand and distract me from my own thoughts. I wanted him to replace them with other things, like he'd promised me. I wanted to make new memories far away from here.

But I couldn’t. I was an idiot and I’d gotten myself back in the hospital, and he wasn’t here because I told him I didn’t want him to be. Why had I told him that? There was no reason that made any sense.

Once we finally did get out of the damn radiology department, I could still only barely function. The ride back to my room was much quieter, and the nurse didn’t meddle anymore. Gossip was only fun when it didn’t hurt like this.

Again, I couldn’t trust myself to guess how long I’d been in the CT scanner, but as we crossed back into my room, an overwhelming sensation of relief washed over me when I saw his satchel in the seat beside my bed. I hated the knowledge that I’d wasted 45 minutes of the technician’s time, but I was just so fucking happy that he had actually come.

Being alone in my room wasn’t a big deal anymore, because I knew it was only temporary. So as soon as I could, I sat up and waited patiently for my favorite mop of curly brown hair to peek around the corner.

He didn’t disappoint. He rarely did.

“Hey little girl.”

All the tension melted from my muscles, my head finally resting against the pillow with a dopey smile on my face. “Spencer.” I sighed, holding my hand out to him to usher him closer.

He gladly took the invitation, taking wide steps so he could be with me sooner.

“You shouldn’t be here.” I grumbled, flicking him on the arm while I locked our hands together. “But I’m glad you are.”

It was obvious from the way he let out a deep breath that he was also relieved to see that I wasn’t angry at him for coming. However, that’s also where his relief stopped. Because he’d seen me an hour prior and knew that I hadn't been crying then. But now, on top of the black eye, he saw the red rimming my sclera.

Taking my hand into both of his, he pressed a hard kiss against the back of it. Without looking up, he muttered into the skin a sad plea.

“Talk to me.”

“About what?” I asked, pulling back on my hand so he would stop with the shameless display of romance in such an awful place.

“Whatever’s going on.” He paused, but was clearly unhappy with the open ended question, and just as quickly specified, “What happened last night?

Unfortunately, I still wasn’t in the giving mood, even when it was information, and even if the person begging me for it was the boyfriend that I’d just cried for in the CT Scanner. If anything, that almost made it worse.

I hated feeling like this. Vulnerable.

“Nothing.”

Spencer was getting fed up, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself from fighting with him. I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell him that I needed him to take care of me and ask him to hold me while I cried on his shoulder about nothing at all, but I couldn’t. He would do it in a heartbeat, but I couldn’t ask him to. I couldn’t ask him for anything.

I couldn’t need anything without feeling too horribly guilty.

“Please don’t lie to me.” He was begging again, looking up at me with those impossibly warm amber eyes. He smiled when he saw the way my lips curled at the sight of him, unable to be angry for too long.

“Am I not allowed to have any stories for myself?” I joked, reaching forward to poke his face. Instead of moving away to avoid my hand, he leaned into the touch.

“You can. I just...”

“I know. You’re worried.” I responded with an exasperated sigh, rolling my head back. I could still feel him watching me, though, with a precarious smile, happy to see my spirits relatively high while also being deeply unhappy about the circumstances.

Wanting to see that full, confident smile again, I realized I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m sure that whatever he’d come up with in his head was much more sinister than what had actually happened.

“Fine. Stop looking at me like that.” I mumbled, gesturing to the childlike pout and laughing when he sucked his lips into his mouth in an attempt to follow my direction. I was glad he was still in a joking mood, because I had a feeling it would disappear as soon as I started talking.

I took a deep breath, looking up and away before I began my explanation of the stupidest night.

“I went out for drinks with my friends–”

“Drinks?!”

It hadn’t even been five seconds and he’d already cut me off. I couldn’t blame him, but it was so freaking annoying. This was exactly why I hadn't told him. Well, that and the fact he could get in serious trouble.

“I didn’t have any! Geez. Chill out.” I yelled back, chuckling a little bit at the conflicting looks of terror and relief. Because while he obviously believed that I didn’t drink any myself, it gave ugly context to the nightmarish guesses his mind had concocted.

“And everything was fine. We were on our way home. But then some asshole started messing with my friend. And she was way too drunk and started crying.” I was groaning internally the whole time, thinking about all the different ways this whole situation could have been avoided. Honestly, I don’t know why she had decided to try and square up with a cat caller when she knew damn well that she would start crying the second he raised his voice.

Which, of course, he had.  

“So, I told the guy to fuck off. And he did not like it.”

There was a powerful rage boiling under the surface of Spencer’s skin, which was only betrayed by his clenched jaw and the sheets scrunched under his hand. “Did they arrest him?” He said, trying to calm the trembling in his voice. He wasn’t angry at me for being a victim, even if he was probably a little annoyed that I went out without telling him.

Not like he was even in the state, anyway.

“I didn’t press charges.”

He took a deep breath, clearly about to tell me that I was stupid for not holding him accountable. That I could’ve gotten hurt and he would’ve gotten away with it. That I could’ve died if he’d hurt me the wrong way.

I didn’t want to hear it.

“Stop. I didn’t want to go to court, and I’m fine. I didn’t even need invasive surgery again.”

Spencer was still angry but trying to settle himself down before he spoke. He could hardly even look at me, his hand leaving the bed to run through his hair and shake his keys in his pockets.

I wanted to tell him that the tension of silence was worse than if he’d just raised his voice at me, but I couldn’t even gather the energy to do that. My body and mind seemed resigned to their current state; they’d just given up.

“(Y/n)...” He started, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the use of my name. They didn’t retreat, especially not when he dragged a chair over to my bedside, sitting down and placing a gentle hand over mine again.

“Are you okay?”

It was so sincere. So pure, so unforgivably kind. My hand that had felt paralyzed seconds earlier twitched under his. “I just told you.” I shrugged, fighting the urge to pull my arm away again. I wanted him here. I wanted him to touch me.

So why did it hurt? Why did everything hurt?

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” His voice broke, and I saw the way he was holding back tears with his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. He was biting back so many things he didn’t want me to know.

But again, I was too tired to fight it. So instead, I said nothing.

“It doesn’t take a profiler to see you’re hurting.” He continued, urging me to give him anything to work with. “How can I make it better?”

He just wanted to help. Why couldn’t I let him help?

“I’m fine. Nothing even happened to me.” My throat tried to reject the words, my brain screaming at me that they were fundamentally untrue. But my heart hurt, pounding louder in my chest to tell me that the logic was wrong. Because I was a big girl, and I shouldn’t be scared by things that already happened.

I’m safe, right? I don’t need to be scared, right?

Spencer could see the panic on my face because I couldn’t even have hid it if I'd wanted to. And my brain was telling me to not to. It told me that I needed to talk to him, to let him listen.

“That’s not true. You’ve been through a lot.” He bargained, trying to locate that little voice in my head with his offerings. He wanted to pull that small part of me out and force it to talk so that we might finally be able to start to move on.

“You go through worse every day.”

‘It’s common for patients suffering from PTSD to minimize their suffering or compare it to others. It’s a completely normal response, but I want you to try to resist belittling your own feelings. They’re yours, and no one else’s. Okay, sweetheart?’

The voice was so clear in my head, my body jerked in response. I looked around the room, looking for any sign of the man who’d told me them first. But he wasn’t here; he hadn’t been here for some time.

“Do you know how many profilers I’ve seen leave in my time at the bureau?” Spencer distracted me from the thought. He probably figured my flashbacks were more sinister than what they actually were. As upsetting as they had once been, hearing my dad’s voice in my head was usually oddly soothing.

“No.” I answered blankly, trying to pay all attention to the man who was still here.

“Four. And I’ve considered it myself.” There was a soft chuckle to hide the guilt in the admission.

I didn’t know why he felt bad for it; his job was so ridiculously difficult. On top of constantly having to rearrange his life on account of the various inextinguishable evils in the world, he had to face those evils every day and try to figure out their inner workings in order to thwart them. The only time I'd ever done that, I'd killed all three of them. Not the best track record.

“The first one, she... she reminds me a lot of you.” The soft twinkling in his eyes, much like emotional music in the movies, alerted me that a backstory was coming. Based on the extent of just how nostalgic he was coming, I guessed that whatever he was about to say was deeply important to him.

However, I was fragile enough as it was, and I didn’t need to add jealousy to my current emotional repertoire. “Is this another JJ origin story? Cause I don’t think I can handle it.”

He laughed, shaking his head at the frustrated pout that formed on my face. “No,” He said quietly, taking a pregnant pause to formulate the story. “Her name was Elle.”

The story he told was woven well, although I expected no less. He told it passionately and with absolute sincerity. He told me about the woman who was one of the first people he'd bonded with on the team. The playful relationship he described was painted so vividly in my imagination.

I wanted to meet her. But by the end of the story, it was obvious that it wasn’t an option. He didn’t say anything about it, but from the far off look I could guess that he hadn’t seen her since that last day.

“She was like a sister to me, and to see her fall apart and not be able to do anything to help her... it was one of the worst feelings in the world.”

And I understood then, why he was worried about me the way he was. He was projecting his previous experience on me, but things were different with me. At least, that’s what I told myself. Realistically I should have been reminding myself that she'd had the training and resources to overcome her obstacles, whereas I was basically still a stupid kid. The prospect of facing the reality was too difficult though; I just shrugged it off.

“Well, I already killed the people who did this to me.” I chuckled.

Spencer did not appreciate my humor. There was an even stronger concern that flashed over his features, worried by my flippancy over the death of three human beings.

Fuck, I should feel worse about it than I do, shouldn’t I? But if I thought about it, then it hurt so badly. If I had to pick one, I would pick apathy every time. I would choose the emptiness before the ocean of remorse.

“I’m not worried about them.”

I had drifted away from him again, and the sentence forced me to look at him.

‘I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you.’

I’d said that before. Those were my words.

I pulled my hand back from Spencer, rubbing my forehead with both hands before wincing at the sharp pain around my eye socket. It took me a minute to focus on the sentence and dive deeper into its implications. But once I remembered why it instilled such a visceral reaction, I nearly gagged on the words.

“Wait, you think I’m going to kill myself?”

“I didn’t say that.” He quickly responded in the most defensive manner possible. If that was his attempt to calm me down, it did not work. It only pissed me off even more.

Because there was only one reason why he would think I was going to kill myself. I hadn’t given him any reason to believe that was a risk. Yeah, sure, I was being reckless and impulsive, but I was a teenager!

“Why would you think that?” I demanded an answer, and he was immediately hesitant to provide one. It was all the evidence I needed to reach my conclusion. “Don’t lie to me, Spencer Reid. You asked Hotch, didn’t you?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair now that it was obvious, I wasn’t going to want him to touch me. “Yeah, I did.”

“You told me you wouldn’t, Spencer! You promised!” I ground the words out between my teeth, hoping he understood just how much I was holding back my volume.

He looked over at the screen monitoring my heart, noting the way the spikes appeared at an exponentially faster rate. “I know.” He whispered with an evident guilt.

“What did he tell you?” I hated the way my voice shrank with my shoulders, my body insisting that I assume to the smallest position I could. Because as much as I hated that Spencer had asked when he told me he wouldn’t, I was desperate for the information.

I’d always wanted to see the files, to hear the story as they knew it. I wanted to know what happened, and this was probably the closest I’d ever come to that, unless that whole Ouija board thing is real.

“Probably the same stuff that you already know.” He knew he was disappointing me. He shouldn’t have felt as bad about that as he did, but I’d take the implicit apology for what it was.

“Tell me anyway.”

Spencer should have been delighted to have the opportunity to talk at me for such a long time, but I also understood why he wasn’t. They weren’t the best topics of conversation, your ex-best friend and your girlfriend’s dead father. But he was a trooper and a skilled conversationalist, despite people not being able to understand that.

“He told me that there were several missions your father was a part of that ended controversially. That… he reported several violations that were never followed through on.”

The words so easily unlocked memories I had tightly and resolutely locked away, it was unsettling. I could hear my parents arguing about the philosophy of blame and responsibility. My dad always arguing that he couldn’t stand aside and let innocent people get hurt. My mom reminding him that he couldn’t save everyone.

‘We also get to see a lot of good.’ Spencer had said on our first not-a-date.

‘Yeah, but which do you see more of?’ I’d asked, and he’d avoided the question. I remembered seeing the question dance across his vision before he shut it out. He'd wondered why I was so confident in my conclusions.

“And the last mission…”

He didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“I saw the report.”

My breath was knocked from my lungs by an invisible fist to my damaged gut. I swallowed, trying to regulate my heart that was at risk of setting off the damn machine next to me. “What did it say?” I whispered, clutching onto the sheets and my gown, hoping it would be enough to keep me grounded.  

“Killed in action.”

“That’s fucking bullshit.” I barked, my brows furrowing regardless of just how badly it hurt to contort my face so badly.  “He didn’t– H-He wasn’t–“

“I know.” Spencer responded, a note of pity in his voice that made my face twitch in annoyance.

I turned to him with the same snarl, years of repressed anger resurfacing and wreaking even more havoc on my already destroyed life. “Do you? Do you know?”

“I mean, I can’t ever know for sure but… You weren’t the only one who felt that he...” He couldn’t say the word suicide, and for once, I was grateful. “It seems like all of his team had the same concerns.”

He was trying so hard to calm me down, to placate my fears and rage. He was sympathizing the best he could, but the truth was he would never be able to understand just how fucked up it was. He hadn't been there when it was happening, so the only thing he could do was try to slap a band-aid on a well-settled scar and hope that my not being able to see it made it hurt less.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered the two words cautiously, his heartbreak clear in his eyes. He had nothing to apologize for, but there he was, doing it anyway.

“For what?”

“That you’ll never have your answer.”

I don’t know what I expected him to say, but his answer took me by surprise. Of all the explanations I’d heard after an unnecessary platitudinous apology, I’d never heard that. And even worse, I’d never heard it in such a broken way, sounding for all the world like he believed he'd failed tremendously.

“I’m sorry that... that I couldn’t find it for you.”

I couldn’t stand the sight, and my hand found his cheek like it did so often, returning home to find that it was just a bit more stubbly than I remembered it. “It’s not your job, Spencer. We’re not one of your cases.” I assured him, running my thumb over the rough skin and remembering that he’d only just gotten home from exactly that: a case.

He did so much for me every day, but in the past few months he’d had to do so much more. And as much as I tried not to, I took him for granted so often. It was never as obvious to me as it was in that moment, when a tear slid down his cheek at the tenderness of my touch.  He always expected anger and pain. I didn’t want him to feel that way with me.

“But thank you for trying. I appreciate you.” I tried to throw my soul into the words as they formed on my tongue, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. “I love you very much.”

“I love you, too.” He sighed into the small embrace, leaning his weight more heavily into my hand. Still holding back, he grimaced at the words he shared. “If I’m going to be honest, I looked something else up myself. Not on any FBI database just... old school research”

I wanted to act surprised, but it was the least shocking thing I’d heard in a while. So instead I just stared at him, with the closest I could come to boredom while still being interested in what he had to say.

“Yeah? What’d you find?” Finally settling into the inevitable resignation, I moved my hand up the side of his face to tangle in his hair. It was so soft despite not having been washed for a few days. I could tell he hadn’t slept much. I wondered why he'd bothered digging into my past in the precious little free time he had.

But then he said it, reminding me of the pain of the cemetery and the events that both preceded and followed it.

“Trent Loughton.”

My fingers stopped in their exploration of his curls for a second, but eventually continued. “I see.” I hummed, trying not to push the conversation any further than he wanted to take it. As emotional as the topic was for me, it must have been harder for him. After all, he was the one who shared the nasty habit with Trent.

“I-I saw how he died... and I think I can fill in the rest myself.”

“Mrs. Loughton did give a lot of clues.” I laughed, mostly to stop myself from crying. That woman didn’t deserve any more of my tears. It was because of her that I’d spent years trying to convince myself that Trent’s death wasn’t my fault. Deep down, a part of me still believed her.

But honestly, it wasn’t my opinion that really mattered to me. It was Spencer’s. If he thought I was a failure, or that it was my fault for what happened, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to move past it. I wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to move past it.

“The drugs he overdosed on... they weren’t yours.”

Relief washed over me, but my mind told me not to get too comfortable, yet. “No, they weren’t.” My body had such a strange reaction to the words being said without an argument. I didn’t need to convince Spencer; he already knew. He not only believed me – he had come to the conclusion himself.  

“So why did you say they were?”

It was such an easy answer, I knew he had to know it already. His hesitance to come to conclusions on my behalf, while appreciated, wasn’t necessary in this situation. “Pretty little girl with no record and a batshit war hero dad stood a better chance in the criminal justice system. I didn’t ask my dad to protect me, but he did.”

Spencer clearly sympathized with my father more so than me in that moment, which made my heart flutter in a remarkably inappropriate manner. I just couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that those damn psychologists were right – We really do sometimes pick men that remind us of our fathers.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Spencer said under his breath, and I wondered which one he was even talking about. It honestly could have applied to my whole life. He would have meant it each time, too. Because to him I couldn’t do anything wrong. I tried to take solace in that, but it honestly caused another voice to creep into the back of my mind.

I’d never be as good as he saw me. I’d never be worthy of his love.

Shoving those anxieties away again, I nodded in solemn recognition of the years I spent working to come to that same conclusion. “I know. It just took me a while to figure it out.”

My hand finally fell away from his face, although he grabbed my wrist to stop it from going too far. There was another hesitancy in his body language. His face turned down and his leg bouncing so gently I almost missed it.

“Is he the one you were talking about? The one you loved?”

Ah, nothing like a subtle hint of jealousy to boost a girl’s ego. I chuckled at the sound, swaying a bit in place to let him suffer a millisecond longer. “No. Not exactly.”

But then I genuinely couldn’t figure out how to say it. How could I describe what we had shared, when I'd spent so long trying to forget it? Had I loved him? Probably. No, I'd definitely loved him, just not in the way Spencer was thinking. Not like I loved Spencer.

“It was like, he always liked me, and I always thought we’d end up together because that’s how it happens in the movies, right? I was supposed to fall in love with him.” I ranted, trying to move my hands that were currently wrapped up in Spencer’s. “But I didn’t, and then he was gone and...”

We both stopped, his eyes trailing after me with questions he didn’t voice yet. He wanted me to finish before he decided whether or not they were worth it. I wanted to explain to him that they weren’t. As important as Trent was to me, he was gone.

“It’s fine. I’m sure he would be glad I found someone who makes me happy.” I was confident in that, at least. Because as I stared into those big hazel eyes, forcing themselves to stay open just to listen to me talk about my life, I was glad, too. “Even if that someone snoops too much for his own good.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

There were many reasons, most of which I didn’t want to go into. But the way he was looking at me shattered my heart into a million pieces, and I knew that if I lied to him now, it would only make it harder to put those parts back together.

He just wanted to help. I knew I should let him help.

“I didn’t want to think about it.” I admitted for the first time out loud. “I didn’t want to consider all the similarities. I didn’t want you to think I was just looking for a man to replace the ones I’ve lost.”

I couldn’t tell when I started to cry, but it was even more exhausting and painful than normal. Which is why I didn’t hesitate to accept Spencer’s offer when he stood up, wrapping his arms around me just tightly enough that it wouldn’t hurt.  

“I didn’t want to lose you, too.” I whined, the comforting scent of his cologne filling my lungs and reminding me of all the beautiful moments we’d shared so far. We had so many more to go.

“You won’t lose me. I’m here to stay.” He said, reading my mind like he always did.

“I know.” I started to laugh, but this time it wasn’t held back by secrets. “You’d think a girl could lose you by getting in a bar fight an hour away and going to an unnamed hospital but nooo...”

He laughed too, although his was much more reserved. Spoilsport.

Spencer’s arms tightened around me briefly, holding me closer to him before he backed away, his hands finding home on my cheeks. I anticipated a kiss, which was usually what happened when he held me like that. But he didn’t kiss me, instead giving me a gentle instruction.

“(Y/n), look at me.”

My eyes, bruised and dry, still opened at his command.

“No jokes. No lies.” He asked, clearly enunciating each word. “Should I be worried about you?”

All I could hear was the sound of my heart and the humming of the machines. I was brought back to the CT scanner, the way it felt to be choking on air. Flashes of other men I loved were racing through my mind. I couldn’t save them, I remembered, before my eyes landed back on Spencer.

My stomach twisted at the memory of a wooden box, a check, and suddenly all I smelled was the pine of the forest.

“(Y/n)?” He asked again, although I saw he’d already received half of the answer.

“No. I’m fine.”

The most terrifying part about it was that I believed what I said, but the look on Spencer’s face told me that I was lying. And I believed that, too.

—————————————————

The thing about coming back from a gunshot wound to the stomach is that it takes a ridiculously annoying amount of time. Like, yeah, the pain is something awful, but the wait for things to return to normal was even worse.

I didn’t even know how long it’d been, my brain blocking out anything that reminded me of that day. If I ever really needed to know, Spencer could tell me. I was basically only keeping track of the days by deadlines for school and the dwindling prescriptions I had left.

My follow-up appointment was next week, and it couldn’t come soon enough. Spencer told me he would come with me, but I hadn’t really heard from him in a couple of days. He didn’t even have time to tell me about the case, although I could tell it was one of the “bad” ones – not that there were really any “good” ones.

But still, it was almost 11pm and I was about to go to sleep, but I wanted to wait a little bit longer before I called it a night. I was just hoping that I’d be able to talk to him, even if it was just to say goodnight. I missed his voice like crazy.

So when my phone lit up, I didn’t even look at the caller ID. There weren’t many people who would call me this late on a Friday – my friends were all already out for the night.

“Hello?” I sang into the receiver, already excitedly spinning around in my chair.

But the voice that responded was decidedly not Spencer.

“Hey, (y/n), right? It’s JJ.”

Her voice rang like a record scratch through my head, and I halted in my chair. “Oh, hey JJ... Why are you calling me?” Suddenly, my enthusiasm morphed into an overwhelming anxiety and darkness that threatened to crush everything in its path. “I-Is everything alright?”

But then I heard it. The sound of terrible music, loud laughter, and the general bustle of a restaurant. It was followed by an even more nervous JJ, “Uhh, yeah. Everything is fine. I was calling because Spencer might have had a few too many drinks and—“

Above the chaotic noise that I just described, I heard Spencer Reid loud and clear. Well, maybe not the clear part. His inaudible slurring sounded vaguely like a rant I’d heard before. Then again, hadn't I heard them all at this point? ?

I hadn’t put it together yet, though, and once I did, I couldn’t help but laugh. “My boyfriend is drunk? Cute.”

I was already standing, gathering my things and tossing my jacket on to head out when I asked, “Do you want me to come get him?”

“Please.” I’d never heard a more relieved woman in my life. The very thought of him driving his best friends insane with his drunken lessons was enough to combat my exhaustion. The poor thing was probably humiliating himself one sip at a time.

But for every chuckle, I was really just hiding a deeper concern. Spencer wasn’t supposed to be drinking. Spencer wasn’t allowed to drink, and he knew that. Out of the two of us, he was the one who put himself at risk more often, and I had a goddamn bullet wound.

“Sure thing. Just send me the address.”

It dawned on me somewhere along the 20 minute drive that Spencer had not only finished his case, but also come home and gone out for a drink with his team. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but the fact that he hadn’t told me about any of it...?

I tried not to think about it, knowing that talking to him about it tonight would be a waste of time, anyway. From the way he'd sounded over the phone, he wouldn’t be in any state to talk about the deep nuances of addiction and our relationship.

So I pushed it away, trying to enjoy the fact that I’d be able to see him again. Now that we’d cleared the air about my past, things felt strangely calm. I told myself it wasn’t just the eye of the storm because I  wasn't sure I could handle much more excitement lately.

Showing up at one of the bars I used to frequent didn’t do much to convince me otherwise, either. The stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol hit me like a freight train as soon as I stepped out of my car. How did I do this every other night before?

As I approached the door, I didn’t even recognize the bouncer’s figure in the shade of the dim porch light. I recognized his voice, though, that’s for sure.

“Hey Jailbait, haven’t seen you around.”

Shit. Slower now, I hesitantly approached him with the most innocent and well-meaning look I could muster, knowing full well that another part of my life was going to be exposed tonight. At least this time, Spencer was the story and not the listener.

“Hey Tom...” I nervously laughed, drawing out the words while I came to a stop.

“Heard some pretty crazy shit went down to keep you off the scene. Must be bad if it keeps you away from me.”

It was weird to think that they talked about me. But I guess it was to be expected; we were all friends before Spencer Reid. And when someone in those friend groups goes missing suddenly, there’s usually reason to be worried. But in my situation, the worry wasn’t really necessary (aside from the whole being shot thing, I guess).

“Crazy is a good word for it.”

He leaned forward, beckoning for me to move in even closer with a wave of his hand. I complied, although I was a little confused as to why we were being so secretive.

“Hey, sorry, but... I can’t let you in tonight. You know I normally would, but the place is swarming with feds tonight.”

Then I remembered that I actually had to explain the reason for my absence, rather than just think about it in the abstract. “Oh no, I know.” I peered around him, trying to spot the man past the door. It wasn’t hard, considering how goddamn tall he was.

I pointed to him, causing Tom to turn with an amused grin before I explained, “I’m here for the drunk noodle man.”

The look on his face – hilarious, and a little insulting.

“What? Jailbait’s picking up a fed? Damn girl what’ve you been into?” He laughed, barely able to control himself. He laughed so hard, in fact, I’m surprised there weren’t tears in his eyes.

“Stop that.” I whined, but he didn’t listen.

“Does he know who he’s dating?”

The question hurt more than he could have anticipated. I didn’t want to confront those messy feelings, so I bundled them all into an annoyed exclamation. “Yes, he knows!” I huffed, crossing my arms and turning away from him as I stepped towards the door. “So can I go get him?”

He composed himself rather quickly after that, shaking his head and unhooking the rope that blocked off the door. “Please do. If I have to hear one more fact about Ancient Rome, I might quit.”

With the last obstacle gone, I happily skipped through the door, the excitement returning in a bubbling wave through my chest. “Thanks, Tom!” I chirped, barely giving him a glance as I raced through the door.

The only person more surprised to see me than Tom was Spencer. Although, to his credit, I did practically launch myself at his side. We both nearly toppled to the ground thanks to  our lack of coordination, but we were luckily stopped by the bar he was leaning against.

“Boo!” I shouted in his ear, hearing a small, surprised gasp from my boyfriend.

“(Y/n)?” He turned towards me now, stars quickly forming in his eyes as a big, goofy smile spread across his face. It took him a minute, but eventually he recognized me in the dim light.

“Hey old man.”

Hugging me back just a little too tightly, he began to gush, “Oh my gosh. What are you doing here?” Of course, before I could answer, he came to several other conclusions. “Wait! This is a bar. You can’t be here! You aren’t twenty one!”

He thought he was whispering, but he definitely, definitely was not.

“I’m here to pick you up, not party.” I actually whispered back, turning to see JJ practically hiding at the table. I’m guessing he hasn't wanted her to call me, although I was pretty sure he wouldn’t care at this point. He seemed pretty happy I was there.

“You can’t pick me up. You’re hurt.”

I didn’t even know where to start with that, so I just chuckled. “Smart as a whip, Dr. Reid.”

I ran my hands over his shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkled dress shirt he'd either had no time to iron, or had worn to bed the night before.  I didn’t like either of those options. Spencer must have noticed me analyzing the fact, because his hand came up to stop me.

Trying to quickly change the subject, I blurted out over the terrible music, “Even when I’m hurt, I can probably still pick you up. You probably weigh the same as me.”

He scoffed, looking down at his lanky body compared to mine before shaking his head. “That’s hurtful, (y/n).” He attempted a puppy dog face, which only made laughter burst from my pursed lips.

Grabbing hold of his wrists and pulling him away from the bar, I turned and waved to the few team members I could spot among the crowd before returning to my drunken idiot of a boyfriend. “Come on, love. It’s time to take you home with me.”

When the cool autumn air hit him, I felt the goosebumps ripple over his arm. He leaned a bit closer, resting too much of his body weight on me for my comfort, but I wasn’t going to tell him to stop.

“How did you find me?” He mumbled, trying to touch me more than he currently was. Pushing him away from me was supposed to serve as a gentle reminder that we were in public, but he didn’t seem to care about that at all.

“JJ called me.”

“They all like you a lot. So do I.” His fast responses were a little less impressive considering how spontaneous they seemed, but I let it slide. As long as he was saying nice things, it was fine by me.

Guiding him as gently as possible, which is to say not gently at all considering he was essentially a human giraffe, I sighed. “I’m glad to hear it, Spencer. Maybe I can actually hang out with them one of these days.”

The guilt appeared before I could stop it, but it was the least of my worries at the moment. More concerning would be getting him into his house and in bed without either of us doing something stupid. After all, he was usually the one who stopped me from being stupid. And so far tonight, he’d already done something pretty damn stupid.

As I pulled the driver side door closed, a silence filled the car. Spencer was stuck between staring at me with a lovesick smile and looking away, probably because of his pink cheeks making him look a perfect combination of embarrassed and plastered.

“So what had you drinking, Spencer?”

“A case.” He shot back with that voice he usually reserved for the bedroom. It was the voice that told me not to press, to take his answer and let it die.

Unfortunately, I couldn't really do that this time, concerning this particular topic. . “Good thing or bad thing drinking?” I asked quietly.

I think he wanted to snap at me, to tell me that it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t. The way my hands and words trembled told him that I was just as scared as he was that the answer might be the wrong one.

“I don’t know,” was what he said, instead.

“Okay.” I accepted that answer, understanding that it meant we could talk about it later, when his blood went back to normal and his mind was where it should be. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

And there we were, me sitting and staring at the indicators on the car as the engine turned, and him staring at me in the little light provided. After staring back at him for a moment, I had to ask the glaringly obvious question.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

That’s when Spencer Reid let out an honest to god giggle, his hands reaching out to massage my face that no longer showed any signs of the black eye I'd received a few weeks prior. “You’re sooo pretty.” He drawled, slumping over in his seat so he could rest his face against my shoulder.

I couldn’t help but laugh back, petting his hair for a second before returning my attention to the wheel. “Oooh, I like this.” I whispered, letting my heart skip a few beats as he nuzzled into the warmth that only I could provide him.

“I love you.” He mumbled against my shirt, letting out a deep breath before apparently trying to fill his lungs with the smell of my laundry detergent.

The sensation of his breath hot against my neck caused a familiar desire to stir in me, just barely beaten out by the even more powerful adoration I had for the puppy-like man who was already practically asleep on my shoulder.

“I love you, too, darling.”

He didn’t hear me, his soft breath indicating that he would be out for the drive. Taking my time to avoid the roads with potholes and curves, I managed to keep Spencer on me the whole way back to his apartment. Once we were there, though, I didn’t have any option but to wake him up. Unlike him, I definitely could not carry him out of the car.

It took him a surprisingly long period of time to realize that we were not, in fact, at my place. As soon as he did notice, he rubbed his eyes like it would transform the door in front of him. “Why didn’t you take me home?”

“This is your apartment, babe.” I explained, digging through his pockets to find his keys. He jumped at the contact before letting out a sound that was way too close to a moan for him to be making in the hallway.

“Yeah that’s not home.” He answered, swallowing down other noises that threatened to erupt by the time I withdrew my hand. “But home is–“ He hiccuped, patting his finger on my nose as he tried to stabilize his feet. “Home is where you are.”

“Mmm, so smooth.” I hummed, unlocking the door and shoving his drunk ass into the apartment before he could do something else that made me question whether I should just turn around and go home.

But he just looked so proud of himself, spinning around on his feet and crashing into the table beside the door. “Thank you!” He chirped, reaching forward to grab my hand and pull me closer.

When our bodies pressed together, the first thing I noticed was the fact he was clearly much more excited to be home with me than he was letting on. The thin fabric of his slacks left little to the imagination, and when my hand slid over the tent in his pants, there was nothing left to wonder.

“I brought you here... because I didn’t want to have to be quiet.” I purred, palming his erection over his clothes.

Through his broken moans, he still managed to ask the silliest question: “Why are you going to be loud?”

He was so fucking cute; so remarkably innocent in his drunken stupor, it was hard to remember that he was the same man that once finger fucked me on the metro.

“Why do you think?” I asked just as sweetly, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

Spencer still just stared, mesmerized by the way the buttons slipped from the fabric between my fingers. Once they were all open, I ran my hands over his chest before wrapping my arms around his neck.

He was the one to close the gap, coming down to deliver a feverish kiss against my lips. He tasted like honey and whiskey, and I wanted nothing more than to drown in him. His hands were on my lower back, sneaking under my shirt and spreading goosebumps all over my skin.

I moaned into his mouth with the utmost desperation, murmuring words against his lips. “Take me to bed, Spencer,” I begged.

The words awoke something in him, and suddenly, his hands were off of me and raised in the air.

“Wait— I can’t.” He concluded, drawing in heavy breaths.

“Why not?”

I wasn’t sure which part of this situation did him in, although I had my suspicions. As much as I wanted him, I would suppress those urges if he was really, truly uncomfortable. I almost felt bad for a second, but then he spoke again.

“I have a girlfriend.”

With a few slow blinks, I tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to return a serious answer. Deciding that was impossible, I deadpan replied, “I am your girlfriend, you absolute idiot.”

I took his stunned silence to be permission enough to start leading him into his room. He honestly looked like I’d just told him all the answers to the universe, and he trailed after me like my hand was a leash. Still, once I sat on the bed and pulled his body against mine, he paused again.

“My girlfriend can’t— she’s hurt. She can’t have sex with me.”

I got the impression he was trying to reason with himself more so than with me, which explained the third person. But it was deeply unsettling, because I really needed to know he was here in this moment with me.

“Stop saying 'she'. It’s me, babe.” I gently reminded, and I watched it dawn on him again, his eyes lighting up in the darkness. Sliding my hand up his arm, I pulled him forward to hopefully convince him to climb into the bed with me. “And we don’t have to have sex.”

Funny enough, Spencer was the one who had enough sense to strip off most of his clothes before he stumbled onto the mattress after me. His lack of coordination was even worse with the alcohol, and it reminded me of the virginal teenager I’m certain he once was.

It was strange to consider, that if we’d met each other under different circumstances, at a different time, our roles might have been somewhat reversed. To picture him as an innocent little thing was... kind of exciting.

But he was anything but innocent now, his face hanging over mine while he helped me disrobe, trying to focus his analytical abilities on me in his haze. Finding no pain or hesitancy, he crashed his lips over mine with an energy I hadn’t seen in some time.

And it was so invigorating, to feel his skin against mine without him having to constantly worry about whether or not he was hurting me. It’d been far too long since we shared a bed together like this, and now that it was happening, I could hardly breathe.  

“God, I love her.” He whispered against my skin, before quickly correcting himself, “I love you.”

I laughed, the kind that sputters from your lips when you try to hold it back. Pushing the hair from his face, I ran my fingers over his scalp. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk, I’m stupid.” He replied with a cheeky smirk, diving back down to kiss me again. I wasn’t going to argue with the brilliant Spencer Reid, even if the point he was making was that he was, in fact, stupid.

Maybe it was stupid, the two of us tangling up in his sheets despite the fact that I hadn’t been cleared for it yet by my doctor. I knew that it was coming soon – probably at my appointment in a couple weeks, actually – so why wait? I knew that Spencer would never hurt me. Even now, his hands were gentle in their insistence, raking over my hip and stopping just short of the place where I really wanted him.  

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groaned, his hips rocking forward and pressing his erection against my leg.

“Touch me.” I ordered, louder and more forcefully than I intended. I was expecting an argument, but I didn’t get one. In fact, Spencer’s finger had already breached my folds before I even finished talking. Unwilling to let him be the only one to enjoy himself, I reached down to grab his cock.

“Shit.” He hissed, biting down on his lip while he rutted against my hand. “I just want to hold you down and fuck you until you cry.” The restraint was obvious in the fingers slowly sinking into me, his jaw clenched and his eyes barely able to stay open. “But I can’t.”

Through my heavy breaths, I panted out another request. “Tell me more about it.”

He immediately realized why I’d asked, and his fingers began to pump in and out of me faster and with more force, his lips trailing kisses over to my ear. While I tried to keep up the pace of my strokes, it became more complicated when his breath fanned over my ear.

“It’s been so long since I bent you over and had my way with you like I did that morning over your kitchen counter...” He moaned, and I could almost feel the sensations as he remembered them. Although his fingers would never be the same, just having him inside me in any capacity felt like pure bliss.

But he wasn’t done, continuing to speak his thoughts into my ear. “I just want to—fuck, I want to fill you up.” I went to respond, but I choked on a sob, instead. The lewd sounds between us only aided his descriptions.

“God, I love the way you feel. You’re always so wet for me.” He whispered, beginning to make small thrusts with his hips. The movement essentially allowed him to use my hand to stroke himself, and he let out another unsteady moan at the contact. “Think about what it feels like, little girl.”

“I-I am.” I could barely make the words come out; my body too sensitive to his touch after being starved of it for so long. And Spencer was ready to take full advantage of that.

“I still have so much planned for you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that little stunt you pulled when you got all riled up.” He growled, using his free hand to grab a fistful of my hair. He yanked my head further to the side, laying sloppy kisses along my jaw. “I told you I’d give you triple the marks you left on me, and I can’t wait to cover you with me.”

“Fuck. Please, Spencer.” I hoarsely begged, my hand on his shoulder tightening so that my nails dug into his skin. If his grip on my hair wasn’t so tight, I would have thrown my head back. Instead, I just squirmed underneath him, crying out, “I’m so close, Spencer, please!”

He did not disappoint, his fingers curling inside of me with each thrust, and by some grace of God, he was able to coordinate his thumb over my clit. As if that wasn’t enough, he pulled back to look me in the eyes.  

“I want to feel you come on my fingers.” It was more of a demand than a desire, as evidenced by the way his hand tugged on my hair. “Come on, little girl. Make daddy proud.”

Just like that, my body responded to his call, my muscles trembling from the tension as my orgasm hit me like a fucking freight train. It was such an overwhelming experience, to remember exactly how Spencer was capable of making me feel.

And he knew it, too. “Oh, good girl,” he cooed, continuing his kisses against my neck and murmuring the words as they came to him. “That’s my pretty little slut.”

After taking my time coming back to earth, I struggled from the overstimulation still burning between my legs. Spencer hadn’t stopped his fingers, which were diligently stroking inside of me while he continued to buck his hips against my hand.

“I want you to finish inside me.” I slurred in my delirium, withdrawing my hand from his dick while he whimpered.

“I-I can’t. I can’t fuck you.” He was asserting a necessary and understandable hard limit, and it was clear I wouldn’t be able to convince him to fuck me that night.

But that wasn’t the plan, anyway.  

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I said between gasps, struggling against his fingers still inside me. “Come up here.” I whined, rubbing my hands on his shoulders while simultaneously trying to sit myself up.

The movement and the words made him withdraw completely. “(Y/n)...” He warned, running a hand through his hair while he sat up on his knees. “I could hurt you.”

“That’s always been a risk with us, Spencer.” My retort was both quick and persuasive, judging by the way he almost moved, but stopped himself yet again.

“Please. Please, do it. I want you to do it so fucking bad.” There was an obvious and deep desperation. I was literally begging him, to the point that I swore I almost cried. It felt stupid, but I needed him like I’d never needed anything in my life before. He’d spent months taking care of me, and I couldn’t do anything in return.

I just wanted to make him feel good, to give him something like we used to share.

Of course, I think those thoughts were also visible on my face, and they were obviously worrying him. With tender touches, Spencer’s fingers lightly trailed over the side of my face. The brief flashes of clarity alerted him of my struggle, and he let out a shaky breath at the war inside his own mind.  

“I want to feel you inside me, and this is the only way.” I concluded, trying to lead him to the simplest conclusion. It was the safest, easiest way to solve both of our current problems. And although I could see how hard the decision was for him, my pleading eventually bested him.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, leaning forward to grab the headboard, staring down at me as I shimmied further up the wood.

“Fuck!” He repeated, rolling his head back with a light groan when both of my hands reached forward to grab his hips. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”

A giggle bubbled through my throat, and my body actually bounced in excitement as he slowly positioned himself in front of me. I wasn’t even sure which I was more excited for, my own orgasm or getting to finally give him one again.

As soon as my mouth closed around the head of his dick, I got my answer. Spencer’s moan filled the room, his hands holding so firmly on the headboard that the entire bed creaked. Although I figured he’d been taking care of himself in my absence, it appeared that wasn’t entirely the case. He seemed just as starved as I was.

“Holy shit.” He groaned, dropping a hand to the top of my head. I had to remind myself that he was drunk, which explained why he seemed so much more responsive than normal, with whimpers and pants flowing steadily through his mouth. He only got louder as he began to slowly push himself further into my mouth, stopping every few inches to retreat before pressing further.

“God, I need to do this more often. No back talk, no whining.” He said in a low tone under his breath, beginning to settle on a steady rhythm.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t think of anything except how fucking good it felt to be useful again, to feel him struggling to hold himself back as he started to more aggressively fuck my mouth. My eyes could barely stay open, but I needed them to. I needed to see him in the dim light of the streetlights that peered through the window.

He looked so beautiful, so perfect, and so mine. Feeling him slide back and forth against my tongue revived memories from long before and reignited my longstanding desire to do anything to please him. In all his caretaking, I was worried he might have forgotten how to control me.

But he hadn't.  Thank god, he hadn’t.

“Come on, little girl. Earn your fill.” He whispered, burying himself in my throat and holding me against the headboard. I only lightly choked on the intrusion before my body complied, swallowing him further until my lips were pressed against the base of him.

Suddenly, Spencer withdrew, beginning a brutal, dizzying pace. Now, my eyes couldn’t stay open, rolling to the back of my head as I used my hands to steady myself against his thighs. The sobs trying to escape felt more like moans, and they shoved Spencer over the edge he’d been riding in his caution.

“That’s it. Take it.” He barked the instruction, looking down at me and smiling, “Don’t you dare spill any of it, do you hear me?”

My answer was stifled against him, just the way he wanted it to be. And with a few more rough thrusts, Spencer buried himself as deep as possible. I swore my heart synchronized with the pulsing against my tongue as his seed spilled down my throat.

I hollowed my cheeks, trying to drain every last drop from him as he finished. It had its desired effect, and Spencer grabbed my hair and forced himself deeper one more time with a growl. “Good girl.”

Once he had enough, he pulled out of me with a satisfied grunt, waiting just a second before clumsily falling onto the bed beside me. I laughed as he hit the pillows, obviously too tired to even reposition himself in the disastrous sheets.

“Thank you, daddy.” I spoke in the silence, gingerly cleaning the spit that had dripped down my chin.

“Fuck.” The curse was muffled in the pillow, but I understood it well enough. He seemed more concerned when I started to sink down into the sheets again, reaching a tentative hand out to him.

Finally rolling over, he grabbed my arm and guided me closer. “Come here.” He said with the tenderness I’d grown used to over the past few months. He turned towards me, apparently not ready for me to sleep on my side just yet.

He brushed my hair from my face, lifting the sheets to look at the now mostly healed wound. I hated it when he looked at it. It just reminded me that I’d never be the same girl he first met. Every time he saw it, he would remember that day. I didn’t want to think about it.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

But even with the insecurity and anger in my gut, I wasn’t lying when I answered. “No, I’m fine.” My heart was so full, my body relaxing for the first time in so long. I was just so unbelievably happy to be together again. Even if it wasn’t like last time, it was still just as wonderful.

“I’m a little better than fine, actually.” I admitted with a bright smile.

Spencer hummed something in thought, but then winced. “Do me a favor.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and wiping a heavy hand over his face.

“Anything.”

“Kick my ass in the morning.”

He was caught off guard by my response, which was a full-hearted laugh that was too loud for how close the two of were. But I couldn’t help it, it was just so Spencer to still be punishing himself despite the fact that nothing bad had happened.

Once I calmed down enough to talk, I turned to him with a devilish grin. “I don’t wanna.”

Then were both laughing, and Spencer pulled me close to him until he could rest his chin on the top of my head, curling up against my side. “Spoiled brat.” He whined, running his hand through my hair and down my arm.

When I smelled the whiskey on his breath, the guilt hit me just as hard as any of the pleasure. I'd been so excited to get to experience this with him again, I almost forgot the reason he didn’t want to do it in the first place.

He just didn’t want to hurt me. He just wanted to make me happy.

“I just wanted to be with you again... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” I whispered, pulling the covers up so that I could hide my shame beneath them.

“I wanted to be with you, too.” He reassured me, half asleep and barely able to talk but wanting to get the words out. “I know it’s important to you, but I need you to know I would be with you even if I never got to touch you again.”

“Please never stop touching me.” I quickly replied, a genuine worry in my eyes.

But when Spencer glanced over, he just laughed, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“No? Even when I get pregnant and have a big ol’ belly?” I playfully answered, bringing his hand to my stomach and pressing it against the side that still remained intact.

The familiar position caused a shift in Spencer’s body language, and suddenly he was even more insistent on being impossibly closer. “You’ll still be irresistible to me.” He said against my hair, running his fingers lightly over the unmarked skin of my lower stomach.

“We’ll see, I guess.” I mumbled, not realizing that I said it aloud until I heard his confused reply.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” The defensiveness in my voice was terrifyingly transparent, and I hoped that if his drinking made him forget anything, it would be this conversation. “Go to sleep, drunk ass.”

“I need hugs and kisses first.” He complained, rubbing his nose against me in a way that should have been irritating instead of adorable.

“Spoiled.” I grumbled, reaching a hand up to play with his hair. I turned to kiss his cheek through the smile that was plastered over my cheeks.

Already half snoring in his sleepy state, he got out one more cringe worthy joke before he succumbed to his exhaustion. “What’s good for the goose...”  

“...is good for the gander.” I finished for him, before taking the advice and following him to sleep.

 —————————————————

| Part 18 |

[dulce-pjm]

cheek to cheek

request for taehyung from @kidcoredreamz (thanks bae!!) 

listen to “cheek to cheek” by ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong and “i get along without you very well” by chet baker for maximum effect

make your own request here using these prompts!

cheek to cheek

word count: 3.1k

genre: fluff, arrangedmarriage!au

summary: it’s night like these that you wish things were different

Taehyung is guaranteed, always has been. 

From the minute your tiny fingers could interlock with his, you were dragging each other around the mansions and garden parties, sneaking off to corners with desserts and chocolate milk and getting sugar rushes together. Time with Taehyung comes easy and passes quickly, the hours with him condensing into minutes and the few minutes without him stretching into lonesome years. 

You’ve seen him through thick and thin. Through acne flare ups and awkward conversations and never-ending games of tag. You’ve seen him pick his nose, cry over spilled milk (or, in his case, a broken remote-control race car), get caught sneaking out. You’ve comforted him while he felt broken, laughed until your sides were aching. You know his ins and outs, his rough edges and corners, his soft spots he tries to hide. 

Marrying him should be a blessing. 

To spend the rest of your life with the person who’s stuck by your side throughout everything is a future some can only dream about. To have someone understand you so perfectly, to understand them like no one else will. It should be a blessing. 

It should be. 

The digital clock reads 11:57 when he knocks on the window. 

You’ve always had a weird thing about having a room on the ground floor, when possible. It’s closest to the front door, in case of an emergency. And there’s no risk of tripping downstairs when you’re sleepily moving around in the night. And, most importantly, it’s easy to sneak out when you need to. 

While you’re a little startled, you’re nothing close to afraid. You know exactly what face to expect as you throw open the sheer curtains, silken pajama sleeves hanging over your fingers and eyes swollen from sleep. 

The moonlight makes his silvery hair seem otherworldly, a soft glow coming off of his locks. A few months ago, you’d been more than opposed to his sudden need to dye his hair, but you really shouldn’t have been surprised. The odd color just makes him more ethereal. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, opening the bay window and letting the frigid air slam you in the face. Your eyes comb over the rest of his figure, your brows furrowing at his dark hoodie and sweats, a black hoodie crumpled in one of his hands. Anyone else would have assumed he was an intruder. 

“Visiting my fiancée?” he tries, flashing a lopsided grin. “Thought we could sneak out again. For old times’ sake.” 

“We’re not kids anymore, Tae,” you huff. 

“That doesn’t mean we have to be boring.” 

You cross your arms as a chill runs down your spine from the cool breeze. “It’s midnight. I’m in my pajamas.”

“Well, then you better change.” You stare at him indignantly for a moment, wondering just how much of a doormat he thinks you are. 

“Please?” he adds, batting his lashes teasingly. “I have a surprise. You’ll like it, promise.”

“But will I like it more than I’d like crawling back into bed? Can’t it wait until morning?”

“No. Let’s be a little spontaneous, like we used to be.”

You won’t lie. The soft duvet, still warm, is calling to you strongly. You know that as soon as your head hit the pillow again, you’d be out. Sleeping like a baby. 

But it’s Taehyung’s half-assed pout and an unfortunately strong curiosity that compels you to slip on the nearest t-shirt and sweats for the designated “not-dirty-enough-for-the-basket-yet” chair and climb out the window with a sigh. 

-- 

“It’s Dad’s latest passion project. It was my suggestion, but I think he’s enjoying it more than me.”

You’re enjoying yourself more than you’d like to admit, too. You aren’t sure what urged Taehyung or his wealthy, CEO father to pour their time and effort into a run down museum, but you sure are glad they did. It’s like walking through a ghost town, dust coating the walls and old exhibits. Only some of the lights work and there’s renovation supplies littering the floors. You and Taehyung stick to each other’s sides in the poorly lit areas to avoid tripping and meeting a sorry end via paint roller. 

This certainly isn’t the first time you’ve been out late with Taehyung. When you were in high school and determined to rebel against your parents’ constricting ways, the two of you often found yourselves roaming the city and laughing much too loudly during a time when you should have been catching up on sleep or homework. 

Being with Taehyung was never too much of a risk. His parents always fell victim to your innocent smiles and mumbled apologies, while yours believed Taehyung could do no wrong. After they yelled and scolded and nearly tore their hair out, soon they were only shaking their heads and smiling at each other knowingly. It was hard to be mad for long when things were really working even better than planned. 

“What do you think it means?” Taehyung asks as the two of you stare at the large mural. It’s filled with wide strokes of color, abstract shapes littering the foreground with seemingly no pattern or reason. You really can’t even see the whole thing, when Taehyung turned on the lights for this room, only two or three managed to flicker on. 

You tap your chin, deep in thought. “Well, the red is clearly...” You tilt your head. “It’s clearly having a battle with the yellow. They represent good and evil. And the purple in the back is hope.” Taehyung tilts his head in the same direction as yours, brows knit in concentration. 

“You really got all that from... that?” You snort. 

“Nah, I just bullshitted it. I have no idea what it means.” Taehyung giggles, shoving you in the side. You stumble, yelping dramatically and nearly crashing into a probably very expensive bust of some historical figure you wouldn’t recognize. 

“I was being serious, Y/N.” You laugh at his pouty expression, resisting the urge to poke him in the side in revenge. You don’t want to start a fight you know you can’t win. 

After trying to make sense of the abstract mural for a few moments, you move out of the art exhibits on to the historical section, looking at the old skeletons and fossils and relics from years and years ago. 

It’s fun trying to guess the names of the different dinosaur skeletons, cackling obnoxiously at all the ridiculous things you can combine with “—asaurus.” You take turns reading the puns scattered on the colorful signs throughout the exhibit, groaning at the bad ones and acknowledging the okay ones with a tiny chuckle. You laugh the hardest when Taehyung spots the fake alligators and climbs onto the display, insisting you take his picture so he can look cool. 

“Tae, you can clearly tell you’re inside!” He scoffs. 

“Just take the picture!” he insists. “Don’t I look like Steve Irwin?”

The photos all come out insanely blurry, your arms shaking too much as you try to hold in your giggles. 

When you were first told of the arrangement at age sixteen, you cried. You sobbed and you wailed and you screamed and you locked yourself in your room in protest for an entire day. Your parents couldn’t understand it. You loved Taehyung. More than your own family. More than anything else. They loved him too. He was the son of a close friend and a union would benefit business, certainly. 

When you eventually came out of your bedroom, you refused to talk about it. You only mumbled that you were sorry and your parents knew better than to ask questions and so, that was the end of it. 

“Taehyung!” you shout, grabbing his wrist and dragging him across the antiques exhibit. You’d both already tried (and failed) at using the dusty typewriter and moved on to playfully arguing about who should pose with the guillotine when your eyes locked onto an item across the room. 

“What is it?” he laughed, stumbling after you, all smiles. 

“It’s a phonograph,” you explain. It appears in near-perfect condition despite the circumstances, the brass horn shiny and golden like it’d been made yesterday. “You can play records on it.” 

He nods in understanding. “We should try it.” The idea is tempting, but your hopes for it working are fairly low. “There’s already a record on it, just try to get it to play.”

You lean forward, fingers mentally crossed as you fiddling with the needle and try winding the crank. The gears squeak terribly inside the main compartment, making you cringe. But you keep winding it, stepping back and squeezing your eyes tight in anticipation. 

When you’re met with silence instead of music, you sigh in defeat. “Well, I guess that’s alright, it’s pretty old anyway, let’s—”

Suddenly, the machine fizzles to life, record slowly turning on the turntable and a jazzy tune carries through the air. Taehyung cheers, clapping on the shoulder. 

“You did it!” Your smile quickly stretches into your cheeks, exhaustion long forgotten as you relax in the nice sound, soft piano and pleasant singing filling your ears. 

You begin subconsciously swaying to song, fingers drumming to the beat absentmindedly on your thighs. Taehyung seems to know the song, quietly singing a few lyrics every one and a while. 

“Let’s dance,” he says suddenly. Your stomach tightens. 

“Let’s not,” you reply quickly, arms hugging your sides. You stare ahead, trying to focus on the song rather than the person beside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him lean slightly closer, lolling his head to the side. 

“Why not?” 

You sigh. You don’t really have an answer. 

Your hand finds his, fingers interlocking as you let Taehyung guide you out into a relatively clearly spot, tennis-shoe clad feet shuffling lightly to the music. You’ve danced with him in other settings, with many more eyes watching. You’re normally dressed perfectly, not a hair out of place and a thick layer of makeup coating your eyes and cheeks. 

“Remember that time your mom made us take dance lessons when we were twelve?” Taehyung asks, a glint in his eye. 

You scoff. “I remember the part where you gave me laxatives right before the first lesson, yeah.” Taehyung can barely keep his grip on you, moving his other hand to your waist in an attempt to steady himself as his shoulders shake with laughter. 

“I really thought it was regular tea, I promise.”

“Sure you did.”

“I did! I thought we were being all fancy like our parents and drinking fancy tea like fancy rich people.”

“Then why didn’t you drink the laxative tea, huh?”

“I don’t like tea. I just put milk in my teacup and hoped you wouldn’t notice.” You snort, hands settled all to comfortably on his shoulders as the smooth voice croons and echoes off of the walls. 

It’s intimate. There’s nowhere else to look but his eyes as he places a hand on your waist, pulling you closer with a soft smile. The room feels warmer, his breath barely skimming across your face at the close proximity. 

It forces you to think about the things you’d much rather keep inside. 

This should be nice. It should be normal and romantic and sweet, to be slow-dancing with your fiancée. Your smile should be light and endeared and love-struck, not forced and fake. 

There’s a heavy pang in your heart as you remember. Remember how much love him. How much you care. How much you want to hold him close, press your lips on his without a single bit of hesitance. 

But you can’t do those things, knowing the things you do. To Taehyung, this marriage is a convenience. It’s a way to please his parents and strengthen his business connections and do it all with his best friend. He’s always been perfectly content with the arrangement, perfectly content to marry for everything but love. 

And how are you supposed to feel, wanting to marry him for the very thing he doesn’t feel for you?

He’s all you’ve ever wanted. You would have left this life a long time ago, but it would mean sacrificing him. You’re too selfish to do that. You want him all to yourself, every part that you can get. 

You’ve seen every side of him, the weird and the sad and sweet. You want it all. But you’ll never have it. 

You wish it were real. That this were a romantic night away, that you’d wake up in the morning all tangled in his arms. It’s this intimacy that you crave but can never enjoy, not when you know it’s all fake.

And he knows you too. Knows something is up when that little knot between your brows forms and your eyes grow just a little glassy.

“What’s wrong?” You quickly straighten your spine, blinking away any tears pricking at your eyes. 

“Nothing, I’m fine.” But Taehyung knows. He leans forward slightly, dark eyes piercing through your very soul. You gulp as you feel his body heat on your own skin, releasing your hands from his shoulders in your panic. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you breathe. Your gaze falls as you step back, the music tapering off as the phonograph finally gives out and the moment is fully broken.

But instead of letting you slip away, his grip tightens, look growing desperate.

“Wait! Just a second.” You can see him itch to run his hand through his hair, but his arms don’t leave you. “You’ve been acting so weird lately. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You furiously shake your head. 

“No, that’s not it. I just—” You stop yourself before too many words spill out and you say something you can’t take back.

When you don’t elaborate, Taehyung’s face falls further. “Seriously, what is it? Am I really making you that upset?”

“No, I—”

“Is it because I dragged you out so late? I’m sorry, it’d just been so long since I saw you and I missed you—”

“Just shut up!” you cry, shoving him off of you for good. A few tears wet your cheeks and your face heats with embarrassment. “It’s because you pull this kind of stupid, romantic shit that makes me love you even more than I already do but I know you don’t see us that way.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide, but you suppose since it’s all on the table, you’ll keep going. “I know this is all just fun and games and easy to you but it fucking hurts, Taehyung. You can’t lead people on like this. You can’t do this shit and expect me not to feel something for you.”

The phonograph crackles in the corner of the room, unable to play pretty tunes or sweet songs anymore. It sounds restless and broken and unpleasant to hear. 

“Maybe I wanted you to feel something for me.” You whip your head up, cheeks still hot from mortification and anger. 

“What?”

“You heard me. I wanted you to love me. Because I love you.” 

When you kiss him, it’s like a breath of fresh air. It’s hungry and rushed as your fingers gently tug on his hair and his palm is splayed on the small of your back, pulling you as close to him as humanly possible. 

At some point, you end up pressed against the wall, euphoric as he trails pecks down your jaw and neck incessantly, like he’s trying to make up for every time he wished he’d kissed you. You whine when he parts his lips, tugging on his hair as he fastens your body against him. He tastes like the peppermint chapstick he always keeps in his pocket. The habit had ruined a pair of his dress pants before when it melted all in the pocket, but he’s always been too stubborn about chapped lips to learn his lesson and carry it elsewhere. You can smell his shampoo and the faint scent of his cologne. Everything that fills your senses is him and only him. 

You feel a few tears sting at the corner of your eyes but you ignore them, gasping for breath between long kisses, a few giggles escaping you when you see you’re not the only one lightheaded. 

After what feels both like hours and seconds, Taehyung pulls away, his lips swollen and pink, but stretched into that adorable grin that hasn’t changed since you were kids. 

“Sorry I didn’t say something earlier,” he murmurs. “I never could find the right words to say it and I knew it’d make everything awkward if you didn’t feel the same way.” You laugh mirthlessly, cupping his face gently with your hands. 

“Same here.” You sigh. “Guess we’re both idiots.”

“Guess so.” 

It's a little frightening to stare at him like this. You’ve always held your guard tightly whenever you felt even close to your feelings being compromised, but that weight you’d carried for so long as suddenly detached itself from your shoulders, leaving you free floating. Yes, it’s like floating untethered through the air or being caught in the ocean with your life jacket. It’s scary and daunting and unknown. But it’s nice to know that you’ll have Taehyung’s hand tightly holding yours the whole way. 

“Since I confessed first, I think you should pose for a picture with the guillotine.” Taehyung’s intent stare breaks, his face crinkling in disgust. 

“But I kissed you first.”

“Only because I said I loved you.”

“If you really loved me, you’d pose with the guillotine and I could pose like I’m the executioner.” Now it’s your turn to be disgusted. 

“That’s so fucking morbid, Kim Taehyung.” You smack his arm, but he keeps you against the wall, thigh between your legs as he leans in again. 

“Only for you,” he murmurs, planting his lips on yours again. 

The scoff about to leave your mouth is caught in your throat as you’re enveloped in his embrace, kissing each other dizzy until you’re certain the sun must be rising soon. 

You wouldn’t mind too much if it did, though. 

As Taehyung keeps trying to convince you to take stupid photos and explain abstract art to him, you aren’t sure how much a blessing he is. All you really know is that he’s your guarantee, your anchor in this unforgiving world. You aren’t sure where he’ll take you next, what random time he’ll decide is the best for your future adventures. You can’t know what the rest of your life holds, only that he’ll be next to you as long as he can. 

And that’s enough for now.

[authenticcadence18]

“Can’t Help Falling in Love” Ch. 11

AO3

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

…

HIIIII HELLO EVERYONE!!!!!!! It’s been. Quite some time. 😅 If you’re still here THANK YOU!!!!!! It is greatly appreciated!!! I hope this chapter was worth the wait, lol!!

I posted the first chapter of this fic one year ago yesterday! Consider this chapter a celebration of that 😊. The past year has been…wild, to say the least, but writing this fic and getting to share it with you guys has been one of the biggest highlights of it!!!😁💕

Thanks as always to my lovely beta and friend @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal, and thank YOU so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!!!

...

“Wait a minute!!!”

Phineas froze in place (which was ironic, considering his realization struck in the middle of removing the crumb cake from a very hot oven).

“You called me your little crumbcake in your letter! And we just made a crumb cake! That wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”

“It was 100% not a coincidence!” Isabella called over her shoulder as she rummaged through a cabinet across the kitchen. “I wanted to make a crumb cake with my little crumbcake!”

A handful of silent seconds passed. And then she shuddered, a frothing wave of decade-old secondhand embarrassment cascading violently over her shoulders.

“Okay, I’m never calling you that again,” she announced dryly (since said frothing wave of secondhand embarrassment was purely metaphorical). “It’s way too weird.”

“What?? No!!” Phineas gently set the crumb cake on the counter, taking care to make sure it wasn’t going to fall, before turning to face her. “Isabella, it’s not weird at all!! I think it’s cute.”

“You only think it’s cute because you like me so much,” Isabella replied with a grin. “Trust me, there’s PLENTY of better pet names out there. I’ll think of some new ones for you.”

She crossed to his side of the kitchen and set the plate she’d retrieved on the counter. “Alright, all we need to do now is add powdered sugar. Do you have a sifter?”

“I sure do!”

Phineas retrieved said sifter from a drawer and turned it over in his hands a few times.

“….I’m actually an expert powdered sugar sifter, you know….” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Oh, really?” Isabella replied amusedly.

“Yeah! A few years ago, my mom put me on beignet duty for the Mardi Gras block party,” he explained. “I built a machine to actually COOK the beignets but figured out pretty quickly I’d have to powder them by hand to avoid making a huge mess…it took FOREVER. Aaand I still ended up making a mess. But now I’m an expert!!”

“Those beignets DID taste really good,” Isabella mused. “I remember thinking the powdered sugar to dough ratio was perfect!”

(She wasn’t just saying that for Phineas’s benefit, though she knew he would appreciate the compliment. As a former-Fireside Girl and baked goods’ extraordinaire, identifying quality desserts was practically in her blood!)

“Thanks!!!” Phineas replied. “I’m surprised you remember that!”

“Well, YOU made them. Everything you make is extraordinary. Of course I remember,” Isabella replied with a soft grin.

“Well, I’m not sure I’d say they were EXTRAORDINARY…” Phineas chuckled sheepishly. “…but thank you.”

“They WERE extraordinary,” Isabella insisted. “And you’re welcome!”

“It actually took awhile to get the ratio right, I’m flattered you noticed!” Phineas replied. “I did a bunch of calculations to figure it out…”

Isabella just listened with a smile as Phineas rambled on about the intricacies of beignet preparation and set to sifting sugar over the crumb cake.

And if his focus faltered a little when she hugged his middle from behind and nestled her head on his shoulder to get a better view, he didn’t show it.

….perhaps getting a better view wasn’t Isabella’s primary motivator in this situation. But she’d been waiting over a decade to indulge in coupley activities with Phineas as an actual couple: she wasn’t going to let this opportunity to do so pass her by!

She was so enamored with his closeness and the gentle lull of his explanations, so caught up in the sweet domesticity of the moment, it took her a few minutes to realize…it had been a few minutes.

Was Phineas taking his time with this (relatively simple) task on purpose?

“…hey, how long does it take an expert powdered sugar sifter to sift sugar over a crumb cake?” she murmured into his ear.

“Normally? I assume it would take about half a minute,” Phineas replied matter-of-factly. “ …but . If said expert powdered sugar sifter is being hugged by the love of their life, it usually takes longer. Could take minutes. Hours, even.”

Isabella giggled (and bit her tongue to keep from squealing at being referred to as the love of Phineas’s life because aAAAAAH!!!!) and brushed a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back and standing at his side. “As much as I’d love to hug you for hours, we don’t want the crumb cake to get cold.”

“Eh, I’d take a hug from you over warm crumb cake any day. But you do make a good point.”

Phineas gave Isabella a smile before pouring the excess sugar into a bag and setting the sifter down. Then, his eyebrows shot up, seemingly in realization.

“Hey....what if I started calling you ‘my little crumbcake’?” he asked. “Or just ‘crumbcake’? I don’t mind if you don’t want to call me that, but would be a shame to let such a cute nickname go to waste.”

Isabella hit him with a playful glare. “If you do that, you’ll find yourself on the receiving end of an ominous patch-related threat. Just because you’re my boyfriend now doesn’t mean you’re exempt from them.”

“Boyfriend, huh?”  Phineas grinned, not deterred in the slightest by Isabella’s ominous patch related threat-threat. “That’s the first time you’ve called me that!”

“Well, we’ve known our feelings are mutual for...what, over half an hour now?” Isabella shrugged. “And we’ve already talked about being in a relationship, so I figured you being my boyfriend was implied.”

(She definitely hadn’t been trying to figure out how to casually call Phineas her boyfriend without outright asking him if he WAS officially her boyfriend. And she certainly wasn’t very relieved that he’d taken being referred to as such well. No way.)

“Soooo…” Phineas slid his hand across the counter until it found Isabella’s. “…if you’re officially referring to me as your boyfriend….does that mean I get to officially refer to you as my girlfriend?”

He’d WANTED to be the picture of suaveness in this moment, to state the obvious as succinctly and matter-of-factly as possible.

…..but the quiver of excitement in his voice had likely ruined any chances of that.

Isabella beamed down at their entwined fingers and then back up at him.

“…yes. Yes it does.”

For a handful of seconds, they just gazed at one another fondly, hands still together, neither trying to conceal how happy they were.

Maybe titles like “girlfriend” and “boyfriend” were arbitrary, especially for two lifelong best friends who were already well aware of how much they meant to one another (both in a platonic and romantic sense).

But….it still felt incredibly special to finally get to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Partners. Together. Officially.

Isabella eventually broke the awe of the moment with a wry smirk and a joke.

“I like ‘girlfriend’ a lot better than ‘crumbcake,’ that’s for sure!”

Phineas’s eyes lit up at the latter nickname, and Isabella groaned as she realized what she’d done.

“....why did I say that...” she grumbled. “We’d moved past the crumbcake thing, why did I say that???”

“I think it’s because you secretly like that nickname and wanted to remind me of it...crumbcake,” Phineas replied with a playful nudge to her side.

“WELL….maybe you’re not completely wrong there…” Isabella admitted, resting her head on his shoulder with an over-dramatic sigh. “I guess it’s kinda cute.”

(She had to admit it was sweet that Phineas was fond of a silly nickname she’d come up with so many years ago. Perhaps it was a little embarrassing, but in a nostalgic, sweet way. And she knew Phineas wasn’t teasing her maliciously...it was all in good fun. And he genuinely thought her childhood antics were endearing!)

“I knew it!” Phineas exclaimed. “You like when I call you ‘crumbcake’!!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” Isabella replied, leaning back and reaching up to ruffle his bright red hair with a chuckle.

“Too late, it’s already up there!” Phineas gestured to his head matter of factly.

“Well! I guess I’ll just have to stand here until your brain short circuits and it leaves your head, then! Because, in your own words, your brain short circuits if you look at me for too long because I’m just soooooo beautiful.”

“True as that may be, if you really want to short circuit my brain, I think a kiss or two from you would do the trick faster.”

Phineas said this without thinking about it.

And subsequently flushed beet red once his brain caught up to his tongue.

…perhaps his lack of a filter would be enough to short circuit his brain.

Isabella, fortunately, didn’t seem phased at all by his suggestion. “Hmmm….” she murmured, tapping her chin thoughtfully and scooting closer to him. “In that case, I guess I’ll have to kiss you. It’s the only logical conclusion.”

“Uhhh…yup! It’s only logical!” Phineas agreed, trying his best to play nonchalant as Isabella wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a knowing smile (and failing pretty miserably at nonchalance because HE STILL COULDN’T BELIEVE SHE WANTED TO KISS HIM, HOW COULD HE PRETEND TO BE PLAYFULLY NONCHALANT WHEN ALL OF THIS WAS SO MONUMENTAL???).

Isabella burst into laughter at his thinly veiled enthusiasm.

Because this moment—this entire evening—was full of moments she’d always dreamed of but that had seemed like just that: dreams!

PHINEAS FLYNN was asking her for kisses, and he was smiling at her as if sharing a brief romantic moment together in the middle of his kitchen was as exciting and enticing an idea as, say, building a super-computer in his backyard.

It was so incomprehensible, so utterly opposite from the oblivious-to-a-fault Phineas she’d grown up with, that she couldn’t HELP but laugh.

Phineas laughed with her, though he didn’t quite understand what was so funny.

(Her joy and close proximity were more than enough to give him butterflies, though, so he didn’t mind.)

“Sorry, sorry!!” Isabella managed to breathe between giggles. “It’s just!!! If I could tell my younger self that you’d actually be asking me to kiss you someday, I think her head would explode.”

“I get that!!” Phineas replied. “If I could go back in time to last night and tell my slightly-younger self that I’d be asking you to kiss me this time tomorrow, I think his head would explode.”

He chuckled before getting a far off look in his eyes.

“Huh....I COULD do that…” he mused thoughtfully. “Go back in time. Talk to my past self about all this. It would certainly alleviate a lot of the anxiety I experienced before I confessed to you.”

“But you shouldn’t do that,” Isabella replied quickly. “Because it could change this timeline or zap us out of existence. I’d rather not be zapped out of existence. Especially not right now. And, besides...getting to confess to one another was worth all it took to get there, right?”

“You’re right…getting to learn about your feelings from YOU was the best!” Phineas assured her.

(This was one of the reasons he needed Isabella, to keep some of his more extreme ideas in check.)

“And I’d hate to zap out of existence. But….”

He blushed a little, suddenly feeling a bit bashful as he recalled why Isabella’d begun laughing in the first place.

“…..I’d still like a kiss from you, if that’s alright.”

“Just one?” Isabella teased.

(She hadn’t forgotten why she’d begun laughing in the first place either.)

Phineas blushed more than a little.

How could Isabella be so coy and collected about all this??

(And why was he even so flustered right now? They’d kissed a handful of times at this point, so there was no legitimate reason to get flustered….but Phineas was flustered anyway. Maybe because he’d never outright asked Isabella for a kiss before? And the mere fact that he could do that at all was a tad overwhelming?? And every few minutes he had to keep reminding himself that all this was really happening because he was still getting the hang of this whole relationship thing and despite everything it still felt too good to be true??? …who knew.)

“Well, more than one would be just fine! But—but at least one!! If that’s okay.”

VERY smooth, Romeo. Fantastic job. A+ flirting technique.

“It’s definitely okay,” Isabella whispered with a smile, tenderly cupping his face in her hands and drawing him close. “Though I appreciate you asking.”

Not much took Phineas’s breath away. He’d spent his life making the impossible possible, after all!

…but Isabella’s kisses did the trick.

And they weren’t just kisses, anyhow. They were promises, assurances, declarations of love he could feel, warm grins and soft caresses and genuine affection courtesy of his best friend (and girlfriend, now).

….frankly, he noted as said-girlfriend gingerly pulled away and coaxed his eyes open with a lilting giggle, it was a miracle he still remembered how to breathe at all.

She was smiling at him, the same smile he’d felt nestled against his and heard in her bubbles of laughter only moments ago.

He’d never realized how versatile smiles could be before today.

“Hey…guess who has hearts in their eyes now?” Isabella crooned, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb.

Phineas blinked, taking a bit longer than normal to come up with a suitable answer.

(He wasn’t used to thinking on his feet in situations like this. He wasn’t used to situations like this at all.)

Isabella’s pupils appeared to be heart-free. So she must have been referring to….

“….me?”

“Yup!” Isabella grinned and gave his nose a playful “boop!” “It’s like they always say: couples who break the laws of physics together stick together.”

She brushed a final kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling away from him entirely and turning towards the counter.

Phineas trailed behind her as she cut a slice of crumb cake (presumably for the two of them to share, as it was quite large) and slid it onto a plate, still a little dazed.

He was also interested in discovering a scientific explanation for the heart-eyes phenomenon he and Isabella had both experienced in the past half-hour…but he’d save solving that mystery for another day.

“…..how are you so good at this?” he managed to ask.

“At what? Cutting crumb cake?”

“No, I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle. “…the flirting, the banter, basic relationship stuff.”

(Because Isabella WAS good at basic relationship stuff. All of it was seemingly effortless for her, especially considering she’d never even been in a relationship. Phineas supposed he himself wasn’t COMPLETELY hopeless when it came to flirting—his comment about Isabella’s kisses earlier was proof of that—but he’d done that without thinking.)

“I’ve just had more practice!” Isabella replied cheerfully. “Waaaaaay more practice. I flirted with you a LOT when we were kids, you just never noticed.”

(That was probably good, all things considered. Isabella’s attempts at flirting when they were kids had left her with quite a bit of retrospective embarrassment.)

Phineas winced at the reminder of all he’d missed out on, on all the pinpricks of affection that he hadn’t caught and had instead flown far over his head.

“….sorry about that….” he mumbled.

“Hey, wait a minute. We’ve already been over this!” Isabella said sternly.

(She’d just been trying to offer him a logical answer to his question, not make him feel guilty.)

“There’s absolutely no reason to be sorry, romantic feelings are never an obligation. And besides!!”

She took a step closer to him…then another step…then another…until she was near enough to turn Phineas’s stomach to Doonkelberry jelly because was she planning on kissing him again???

But she didn’t kiss him again, instead just smirking and whispering, “…you’re very cute when you’re flustered…” before leaning back with a bright laugh.

For a few moments, Phineas was struck with the desperate need to HIDE and ESCAPE before Isabella noticed how red his face was.

…but then he remembered that she was, in fact, his girlfriend (a minute ago they’d been smooching, after all) and that his undying love for her wasn’t a secret anymore.

And, since he apparently looked cute when he was flustered, she was likely enjoying this immensely.

Whew.

“Well, I mean, you’re ALWAYS cute, don’t get me wrong,” Isabella continued. She grabbed the crumb cake-laden plate and two forks. “But when you’re flustered you’re ESPECIALLY cute.”

“Oh yeah?” Phineas countered. “Well…uh….you’re always especially cute!!! So there!!”

Isabella slowed to a halt and tilted her head at him with a chuckle. “Wait….are you trying to one-up my flirting? Or…are you trying to fluster me?”

“…..mmmaybe?” Phineas replied hesitantly. “…why, is it working???”

Isabella considered his question, taking note of the cheerful warmth spinning in her chest (and likely reddening her face a bit).

“…maybe just a little.”

Phineas didn’t attempt to hide his excitement this time, pumping his fist in the air with a whispered, “YES!!!!”

He quickly regained his composure, though.

“Well it’s GOOD that it’s working, because if it wasn’t working, I’d have to remind you that your cuteness is a scientific fact.”

“BELIEVE me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget about that,” Isabella replied with a snicker. “That was the closest you ever got to calling me cute when we were kids.”

“Hey! The mere fact that I acknowledged your cuteness at all when we were kids is a testament to just how cute you are,” Phineas stated matter-of-factly. “Because, well…you might not have noticed this, but I was just a tad oblivious to romance when we were that age.”

Isabella feigned a gasp. “WHAT???? No way, I had no idea.”

“It’s true!!!!” Phineas insisted. “….just like your cuteness being a scientific fact is true.”

The two of them burst into giggles at that.

“You know…” Isabella pointed out with a wry smile, “…for someone who claims to be bad at flirting, that was some pretty good flirting.”

(She was quite impressed, actually!)

“Well, I’ve got someone incredibly special to flirt with,” Phineas replied cheekily. “I couldn’t have done it without her.”

Isabella’s eyes widened at that, cheeks flushing bright red (because PHINEAS WAS TALKING ABOUT HER!!!!! HE THOUGHT SHE WAS INCREDIBLY SPECIAL!!!!!), and Phineas grinned eagerly before placing a hand on her shoulder and leaning in to kiss her.

That seemed like the right course of action here, to follow up a jovial round of flirting with a kiss.

(And it was the right course of action, judging from the way Isabella smiled and kissed him back.)

Perhaps he was getting the hang of this whole relationship thing after all.

…

Isabella took a moment to catch her breath as Phineas gently pulled away from her and gave her the world’s most adorable smile (and to overcome the temptation to just forget about the crumb cake and indulge in more kisses instead).

“…alright,” she exhaled. “…as lovely and sweet as all this flirting has been, are you ready to go outside?”

“Oh, definitely!!!!” Phineas replied, taking a step back. “I mean, it feels like it’s been ages since we made this crumb cake, it’s about time we actually eat it. You go on outside, I’ll clean up a bit! Just in case Ferb and my parents get back while we’re out there.”

“Sounds good!!”

Phineas made his way to the living room a few minutes later….only to find Isabella standing in front of the screen door, a blank expression on her face.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked as he walked over to her. “I thought you were going to go outside.”

“Well…I was,” Isabella articulated slowly. “But….”

Her voice trailed off, and Phineas followed her gaze into the backyard as he finally came to a stop at her side.

“…..oh.”

The backyard was empty.

No stars.

No lanterns.

No light.

Even the picnic basket was gone.

All that remained was their blanket, still laid out beneath the tree, the only remnant of the last hour.

“Well.” Isabella cleared her throat. “I suppose we should’ve seen this coming, huh?”

Phineas didn’t respond, instead sliding the screen door open and stepping past Isabella and into the yard.

He just focused on walking, step by step by step. It was easy to keep his mind occupied with the mechanics of movement...that is, until he knelt beside the tree to collect the blanket.

Because tonight he’d had a second chance at a longer picnic with Isabella, which he’d initially chosen not to pursue when they were kids due to worries he hadn’t been able to explain back then...but the universe had taken that second chance away.

And now he had nothing tangible to express his affections to Isabella with. No inventions, no cozy sanctuaries for the two of them to snuggle up in, no physical manifestations of how much he loved her.

All he had was a blanket. Which hadn’t been enough to prolong their picnic when they were kids. And it hadn’t been enough now.

Their first moments as a couple were gone forever. He couldn’t get them back.

And this wasn’t the first time he’d built something for Isabella, only for it to disappear.

...why did it hurt even more now?

Was this going to be a normal occurrence for them? Phineas creating things, only for the world to irreverently take them away with no explanation as to why?

Because it was one thing to muse that kisses were as meaningful as big ideas while sharing a kiss with Isabella amidst one of said big ideas.

It was quite another to face Isabella without a big idea to prove the authenticity of his feelings.

And perhaps he could build something else right now, but….what would be the point?

A few tears stung at his eyes, throat burning and chest tight.

How could he build a relationship with Isabella if the world was just going to tear down his attempts to show her how much he cared?

“Gosh…it kinda feels like we’re kids again, huh?”

Phineas flinched as Isabella’s voice drew closer. He hugged the blanket to his chest as he stood, willing himself to not cry because he couldn’t cry, it would be silly to cry, all these thoughts of his were illogical. Isabella didn’t sound upset, and she hadn’t been upset when her birthday party disappeared all those years ago, she was fine, and this WAS a pretty regular occurrence for them in the grand scheme of things, so he needed to be okay. Plus, he KNEW she knew how much he loved her, he didn’t need inventions to tell her that but…..a part of him still hurt just the same.

“I mean, it genuinely takes me back! I feel like your mom’s about to offer us pie. And…..”

Isabella’s voice trailed off as she reached his side.

“Phineas?”

Phineas shut his eyes, but he could hear the rustle of grass as Isabella moved to stand in front of him.

“...Phineas, what’s wrong?”

Now her hands were on his shoulders.

He could’ve tried to pretend that nothing was wrong, to smile and laugh it off.

But...Isabella would probably see right through that.

And he was tired of keeping secrets from her, anyway.

“It’s just…..”

His lip quivered, and he sniffled before finally opening his eyes.

“....it’s gone. I planned everything and set up the picnic for you, so you’d know how much I care about you….but it’s gone…..and I wanted to keep spending time with you out here, at our picnic, because the last time we had a picnic it ended too soon and….I thought this time would be different, that we’d be able to end it on OUR terms and not because of it getting dark or anything. But it’s not. It’s like last time, and all the other times inventions disappeared before we were done with them and, I JUST!!!! I just….I’m sorry, Isabella….. I’m so sorry…..”

“Phineas Flynn. Look at me.”

Isabella took his face in her hands and gazed at him intently.

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s okay! These things happen! And we still have the memory of our picnic, right? Didn’t you say that memories are your favorite things we made when we were kids?”

Phineas pondered that for a moment.

“.…yes…” he finally whispered.

“This is the same,” Isabella insisted. “We’re building memories! The inventions may come and go, but the memories will stay. And I will stay. Believe me, if disappearing inventions bothered me, I wouldn’t be your best friend.”

She smirked a bit and added, “And I wouldn’t be your girlfriend now, obviously.”

“I know, and you’re right!” Phineas replied quickly. “….but…..I just…..I wanted to show you how much I love you, Isabella. That’s what the picnic was for, really. I mean, I know I TOLD you how much I love you too, but for me, it’s always been easier to say that kind of thing when I’ve got an invention to back my words up….I guess, it’s a little scary to say those things when it’s just me. You’re braver than me in that regard.”

“You HAVE shown me how much you love me, Phineas…” Isabella whispered, caressing his cheek with a gentle grin. “You’ve been showing me since we were kids. And, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t love you because of your inventions and big ideas. I love you because you’re YOU. You’re Phineas Flynn! The kindest, most creative, most caring person I’ve ever met!! Everything that makes you you shines through in all your inventions, they’re an extension of who you are; but they aren’t you, you know? If I had to choose between spending a day using one of your most amazing inventions alone OR spending an invention-free day with you doing something super boring, say, watching paint dry, I’d choose the invention free day every time. I just love spending time with you….”

She trailed one of her hands down his arm till it found one of his, twining their fingers together with a comforting squeeze.

“I’m sorry our picnic disappeared, though. It was important to us, and it’s okay to be sad about it. ...do you want to set up another one? I can make paper lanterns, and I’ve got to have a picnic basket at my house. And there’s plenty of stars in the sky if you don’t have any more to spare.”

Her offer lingered in the air for a handful of seconds, and she herself seemed posed on the tips of her toes, waiting for Phineas’s answer.

“….no…” Phineas finally whispered. “….it’s okay. I know we have homework to do, building another picnic would take too much time. ….and you’re right. Spending time together….that’s what really matters. And you being willing to rebuild our picnic means a lot to me.”

“You know I’d do anything for you,” Isabella replied with a gentle smile. “And we can just sit at the table, it’ll be like…an elevated picnic! With homework! So…an elevated study date picnic!”

She patted his cheek before withdrawing her hand from his face and turning towards the door.

But Phineas wasn’t ready to go inside just yet, wasn’t ready to put aside all the emotions tumbling around inside of him.

“Wait!”

Isabella whirled back around, head tilted ever so slightly.

“Yes, Phineas?”

Phineas took a deep breath.

How could he even express how he was feeling? How could he express his gratitude towards Isabella, express how loved and cherished she made him feel, express just how much her willingness to recreate their picnic meant to him?

“I…I just…...thank you, Isabella. So much.”

To punctuate his gratitude, he lifted the hand he held and pressed a tender kiss to Isabella’s knuckle.

“I’m really, just, so lucky. Lucky to be your friend, lucky to be your boyfriend…you know that, right?”

Butterflies whirled in Isabella’s stomach, stirred by the sincerity in Phineas’s voice and the warmth of his lips still lingering on her hand and the way he was looking at her.

She eased in closer, close enough to lay a reassuring hand on Phineas’s shoulder.

“…..we’re both lucky. Incredibly lucky.”

Phineas and Isabella weren’t sure who kissed who first. Perhaps neither of them kissed first, perhaps it was simultaneous, both of them knowing instinctively what the other wanted.

This kiss was different from their first, which had been a rush of new, giddy emotions, a celebration of their reciprocated feelings, the resolution to a lifetime (or, more specifically, nine chapters) of longing.

And it was different from the playful, giggly kisses they’d given one another inside.

It was slow, purposeful, intentional. A way to say thank you, for Phineas to convey to Isabella just how much he cherished her, and for Isabella to do the same for Phineas.

It wasn’t a happy kiss, necessarily. But it wasn’t sad either. They stood nestled within the complicated space between those emotions, mourning the loss of their picnic and summers gone by even as they celebrated them.

And though the ache in Phineas’s chest didn’t disappear completely, even after Isabella murmured a reassuring, “I love you...” against his mouth as she kissed him, it faded a little with every instant he spent close to her, memorizing the way her words felt and made him feel.

“I love you too.”

He loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

Ardently, incredibly, deeply so.

Perhaps someday, he’d find a way to express that love flawlessly, with an invention or words so breathtaking and perfect, he’d eliminate the ache, the feeling of misunderstanding, the disconnect between his affection and his ability to convey it, forever.

But for now. Beneath the stars…in this quiet, plain, utterly ordinary backyard…..Isabella seemed to understand well enough.

For now, just Phineas was enough for her.

And, though he hadn’t grasped it just yet (and perhaps wouldn’t fully grasp it for quite some time), just Phineas would always be enough for her.

…

Ferb spent the ride home from regionally-renowned restaurant The Boiling Pot trying not to laugh as his parents discussed how the complimentary breadsticks had tasted good but not great and how it sure was a shame that Phineas and Isabella hadn’t tagged along with them because they would’ve loved the fireworks! And where had those fireworks even come from, anyway? What did “Gitchee Gitchee Goo” mean?

Ferb, of course, knew Isabella and Phineas were likely getting along just fine on their own.

He also knew precisely where the fireworks had come from. And what they meant. (He was a founding member of Phineas and the Ferbtones, after all.)

But he wasn’t about to spill the beans to his parents: Isabella and Phineas would have that honor.

“Have you heard from Phineas at all?” Linda asked.

Ferb glanced down at his phone and cracked a smile while scrolling through the messages he’d sent to Phineas over the past hour.

Phineas hadn’t responded to any of them, which wouldn’t have been a surprise even if Ferb hadn’t known he was spending time with Isabella. His brother wasn’t the greatest at replying to messages that didn’t need replies, especially when he was attending to other matters.

“I have not. I’m sure he’s fine, though.”

Ferb had done his best to stall at the restaurant, to be quite indecisive about his order and insist on buying dessert and give Phineas and Isabella as much time alone together as possible to figure out their feelings (because it was Phineas and Isabella: they needed all the time they could get), but one could only prolong the inevitable for so long.

Thankfully, the inevitable was about to happen.

(Well. Technically the inevitable had likely already happened, considering the fireworks. But Ferb couldn’t be absolutely sure until he got home because, again: it was Phineas and Isabella.)

“I wonder what Phineas and Isabella have been up to…” Laurence mused as he pulled in the driveway.

Ferb stifled a snicker in his elbow.

“Probably smooching,” he thought. “Or having heartfelt conversations about their feelings. Or just being sappy and sweet. Actually, it’s likely a combination of the three.”

He sent a quick text reading, “We’re home!” to Phineas before climbing out the car and heading for the door.

(Just in case they were partaking in the first of his proposed activities.)

Fortunately, Phineas and Isabella were not, in fact, partaking in the first of his proposed activities.

…but Ferb was more than a little perplexed by what they were up to instead.

He found Isabella and Phineas huddled over a textbook, graph paper, and calculators at the kitchen table, with an empty plate and two forks strewn off to the side.

Ferb’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight, confusion and apprehension prickling at his gut….because all of this seemed suspiciously platonic.

Sure, his brother and neighbor were seated QUITE close to one another. And the single plate and two forks seemed to indicate they’d shared food.

Both of those activities could be interpreted as romantic.

But they could also be interpreted as totally platonic (or, well, “totally platonic” in Phineas and Isabella’s case).

And Ferb also couldn’t be sure Isabella had seen the fireworks. Maybe they’d gone off too soon. Or too late. Maybe she’d been inside while they went off. Or asleep. Anything was possible in Danville.

Thus, Ferb couldn’t be absolutely, assuredly sure Phineas and Isabella were officially together until they told him. Or he asked them.

But he knew he shouldn’t just ask them, because if they hadn’t figured things out yet, asking them would just ruin the surprise and the four years he’d spent in silence about their mutual feelings would be for naught and HE WAS INCREDIBLY TIRED OF ALL THESE SECRETS—

“Woah! Hey, Ferb!!! I didn’t even hear you walk in the door!! How was the restaurant? .…and….how long have you been standing there?”

Phineas’s words rang hollow in Ferb’s head. He only barely comprehended his brother’s final sentence.

“….long enough to wonder whether you two have finally figured things out….” he muttered.

“OH! We sure did!!!” Phineas replied eagerly.

He gestured to a particularly complex-looking equation and continued, “This problem right here stumped us for awhile, but Isabella finally figured out we have to use the general Leibniz rule to solve it!!!! Honestly I can’t believe I didn’t think of that sooner, though I guess my brain has been a little preoccupied tonight…”

Ferb was going to fall over. He was going to fall over and then stand back up and grab a pillow and wack Phineas over the head with it because HE’D HAD AN ENTIRE ROMANTIC PICNIC AND FIREWORKS AND CONFESSION PLAN AT HIS DISPOSAL, HOW COULD HE BE TALKING ABOUT CALCULUS RIGHT NOW???? HOW HAD HE AND ISABELLA NOT FIGURED THINGS OUT YET??????

Isabella, meanwhile, glanced between Ferb (who looked about ready to snap something in half) and Phineas (who seemed blissfully unaware of that) before giggling. She placed a hand on Phineas’s shoulder and patted it gently, prompting him to look back at her.

“Phineas, sweetheart,” she voiced matter-of-factly, “I think Ferb is trying to ask if we started dating.”

She turned to Ferb and brightly added, “We DID start dating, by the way!!!!”

“Oh!!! Right!!”

(Phineas felt a little silly for not grasping that on his own, but it was alright.)

“Yeah, we started dating!!! Surprise!!”

And just like that. Relief. A mountain’s worth of pressure, over a DECADE’S worth of pressure, lifted from Ferb’s shoulders.

He sank into a chair opposite the happy couple and exhaled.

“….oh thank the stars.”

…

At last….Ferb can rest 😌.

ALSO MASSIVE SHOUT OUT TO MY BETA FOR COMING UP WITH “THE BOILING POT”!!!! I wanted to make a pun based off “The Boiling Isles” for the restaurant name (any Owl House fans here? 👀), and she came up with that and a couple other options and I LOVE HER THANK YOU FRIEND.

I sincerely hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! (And I sincerely hope the next update doesn’t take so long😅. But no promises, lol!) The end of the story is in sight…might take a couple more chapters to get there, but WE WILL GET THERE👏

As always, comments/reblogs/tags/likes are very much appreciated 😊💕

EDIT: OH ALSO!!!!! I owe a massive shout-out to @palizinhas. They write FANTASTIC Phinbella fic, and their story “Another Plan” inspired me to add the hurt/comfort scene into this chapter (I’d previously written it and decided to cut it).

[urijihoons-blog]

Bokuto: Clarity

/ Kōtarō Bokuto x reader /

genre: fluff babyyyy

wc: 3126

summary: Finally, the truth has been revealed. You can finally look at him with clarity. After a little domestic bliss, you devise a plan to take down the one who wronged you, and it’s time to set it in motion. 

warnings: dOmEsTiC bLiSs

a/n: Hey guys!!! I am SO sorry this took so long!!!!!!! As answered previously, I got wrapped up in all the holidays and then just recently started back up at college so I’ve been putting this off, and then I noticed 2 days ago that my draft had completely deleted somehow so i started it again haha karma I guess!! ✌🏻🥺

BUT HERE IT IS AHA

pt4

///

You were stunned. Bokuto was explaining everything to you in extreme detail, slowly going over the past few weeks. Of course, he’d get a little off topic at times, getting too in depth about practices or games, which made you smile on the inside, but as soon as he’d realize he would continue his story. He told you how Tamra had acted as if she just was interested in talking volleyball, how she manipulated him into being her friend, and then how she won the trust of the whole team. Bokuto never saw it coming. You wondered if he felt as stupid as you did right in this moment.

“When I saw you after I opened that door,” Bokuto eyes lit up slightly at the thought, a small smirk forming through his low laugh. “I felt as if I had finally come up for air. You looked so excited, your face was more beautiful than I remembered and your eyes,” he looked down at your intertwined hands, you turning his ring on his finger. “were so bright.” A darkness came over his features and his voice started to shake, your body tensed in response. You knew the next part all too well. “I should’ve never said she could come over, I should have never even been friends with her, Y/N.” Tears started to trail down the sides of his cheeks, making you tear up as well. “I’m so sorry,” his voice broke as he laid his head facedown on the bed next to your side, clutching onto your hand as if it had been his life line. “I’m so so sorry.”

“You can’t be sorry for being yourself.” You squeezed his left hand with one of your own, and put the other in his hair, softly trying to comfort him. “You thought she had no one, so you tried to be a good friend. You can not be at fault for trying to be kind.”

“That doesn’t matter, Y/N. I was not kind to who matters,” his shoulders shook slightly as he continued to cry into the duvet. “You. When you started to cry in the room, and I tried to hold you, you flinched under my touch. When you got in that elevator, there was no light in your eyes. Your beautiful face had shattered. I did that to you, Y/N.” He sobbed now. “I should’ve done right by you.” You squeezed his hand tighter, letting him know you’re still there. “I want to do right- I need to do right by you.”

“Bo,” you cooed. His head lifted up when he heard his pet name. Your hand grazed his cheek, your thumb swiping at the tears. One of his hands reached to cover yours as he leaned into this intimate touch. His reddened eyes fluttered shut taking it all in, and then opened to look at you. “You have done right by me. You have always done right by me. Even tonight, you tried your hardest to do right by me, and you succeeded in the end. I-“ your voice was caught in your throat, you choked down a small sob, “I’m the one who failed you.”

You started to cry now, really cry. Bokuto’s hands flew to your cheeks, trying to stop the stream of tears as he shook his head. He was about to say something when you stopped him, “I should have stayed earlier. I should have at least tried to hear you out, but instead I ran. I should have known better, I should have trusted you.” You laughed sadly, “I mean we’re getting married, right? I should’ve-“

“You still want to get married?” Bokuto’s small voice broke out. He was still holding your face, and his lips were inches from yours. His eyes were now wide with shock. Your cheeks flushed, and for some reason you suddenly felt shy.

“Well, I assumed since we have fixed this-“ was all you could get out before Bokuto brought your lips down to his, hard. This kiss was one that was filled with longing, passion, and love. After your initial surprise, you leaned into it. You haven’t kissed him in so long, not only because of the whole train wreck of a night, but because he hasn’t been home in weeks. His lips felt so soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into the bed to be beside you, closer to you. You had missed him so much. He pulled away, both of you panting at the air.

“I can’t believe this.” He started, putting his hands to his head. “All of this pain I’ve put you through and you still want to marry me? Are you serious?” He asked, searching for something in your eyes. Rejection, maybe? He still looked so surprised.

You smiled softly at him, “Of course.” You stated plainly. “You’re the only one for me, Bo.” You leaned up to meet your lips to his once more, a quick, chaste kiss. He was still leaning into your space with his eyes closed when you had already pulled back. They snapped open when he realized you weren’t still kissing him, his golden eyes electric, waiting for your touch.

“Let’s go back to our room, sweetheart,” he smirked getting out of the bed, and held a hand out for you to take. “It feels weird that I want to make out with you in Atsumu’s bed.”

That night, you cuddled in his hotel room. After Hurricane Tamra, you both deserved to end your 4th year anniversary with a little bit of light. He had asked you about the shop and your plans for this trip. With your head on his chest, and those beautiful golden eyes constantly watching your every move, you spoke adamantly about your thought process with this whole trip. He was so excited that you were finally going to be able to watch him play, it had been awhile since you could attend a game in person.

Throughout your time there that night, Bokuto kept holding you tighter and tighter. Occasionally, he would bring his hand up to your face, while you both laid in silence, and would trace your features with his fingers lightly. He would also randomly pepper you with kisses from your forehead, to your neck, to your shoulders to show you that you have his full attention and affection. You knew it was because even if you had completely forgave him, these past few hours had been and will continue to haunt him for a while. After staying up for the sole reason to be in each others arms, you both finally got to sleep around 3:30 in the morning, which was not ideal, but was still perfect considering you got to spend time with him.

//

Game day. It’s game day.

Bokuto’s eyes snapped open at the thought. While his sleepy eyes cleared, he realized something was tickling his nose, it was your hair. This made him smile.

He hasn’t been able to wake up to your sleeping face in so long. The sun shone softly through the curtains, and it hit your skin enough to make you look as if you glowed. You were tangled together under the sheets, legs wrapped around one another while both of your arms are hugging each other. The sight made him excited for the future, becuase everyday would be like this. Bokuto was careful enough not to move too much, in fear of waking you up. He checked his watch. It was only 10, and he didn’t have to be anywhere until 12, so he was safe on time.

He started to play with your hair, slowly moving his hands down to stroke your arms, and then began drawing shapes on your shoulders. He didn’t want to wake you up, but he did want to spend some time with you before he left for practice and warm ups. You made a small groan, and took your time to open your eyes. Before Bokuto knew it, you had snuggled in closer for warmth, grabbing his arms and pulling them around your body. You started drawing shapes on his arms now, and Bokuto couldn’t believe that you were still his.

Last night, he felt as if he were in a nightmare and now, it’s like he woke into a dream. “Hey angel,” Bokuto rasped out in his low morning voice. “What do you want to do for the next few hours? We can grab breakfast, or-“

“I think I would rather just lay here with you, if that’s okay,” You cut him off, speaking quietly, moving to where you could fully see his face. “I haven’t seen you in a while, and I’ve really missed you, and I don’t want to poke our bubble just yet.”

Your words squeezed his heart, you missed him. Enough to not want to go get breakfast. Bokuto smiled sheepishly, pulling you in closer. “That is more than okay,” he leans his head down to plant a long, sweet kiss to the top of your head, “it’s perfect.”

When 11:30 rolls around, Bokuto is disappointed that he has to leave your warm bed. He quickly runs around the room, grabbing clothes and shoes and different essentials for the rest of the day. Every once in a while, he’ll pass you and give you a quick peck on the lips. He does this when he’s nervous about something. And that something today was Tamra. Of course her team was the one they were playing in the finals.

“The stadium is only a block away, and we can get dinner together tonight, and-“

“Bo,” You cooed. He picks up his face, red with both anxiety and frustration. “I understand it’s your job to see her. I’m not worried about this,” you step out of bed towards him. You only have on one of his big t shirts, he takes notice. “Or us.” Now his face is red for different reasons. You wrap your arms around his neck while you stand on your tippy toes. His arms automatically hang loosely at your hips. “I have complete faith that you are going to go out on that court and win the finals. I also have complete faith that you are going to do the right thing, like you always do. You don’t have to talk to her, in fact don’t even look at her. Don’t give her the satisfaction of your attention. You deserve the satisfaction of a solid win.”

That look you gave him, with those beautiful eyes, it could kill and save. Bokuto leaned down to give you a quick peck that turned into a long, passionate kiss that left you both breathless. This was the encouragement he needed, you by his side. With him going into battle like this, no one could stop him. You untangled yourselves from the loving embrace, and he picked up his bags. “Y/N,” he looked you directly in the eyes. “I love you with everything that I am.”

“Then play with everything you’ve got. Win this for me.”

The words still sent sparks down his spine as he dropped off his belongings in the locker room. He was thinking of the intensity that your beautiful face held when he walked out on the court to meet his teammates. The only thing that could take him out of his thoughts were the voices of his teammates.

“Kuto!” “Did you make up with Y/N last night?” “Is she okay?”

The smile on Bokuto’s face answered every nagging question of the team. A collective sigh filled the stadium. Of course they were relieved to hear the news, this wedding was the only thing going on in some of these guys’ personal lives. “I’m so glad to hear that, Kuto!” Hinata’s voice rang out as he entered the court.

Noises came from the opposite side, and everyone knew who followed them. “Okay guys, you know the drill.” Atsumu’s voice was tight. Everyone’s faces immediately dropped into a scowl. The team looked more focused then ever. Bokuto knew this was a big game, but didn’t think everyone needed to be so on edge.

“Why are you guys looking so hostile?” Bokuto questioned lightly. Everyone looked to him as if he should know.

“Y/N called with a game plan. She’s pretty smart, y’know?” Atsumu smirked, which made Bokuto burn a little at the thought of him having any private thoughts about you. “Anyways, this is how she believes it will go down.”

Atsumu went into fine detail about the days events, how everyone was to act, and where to lead the storm. Bokuto’s mind was racing, thinking and imaging everything that was to come. “When did she have time to plot this?”

“Oh, you would be surprised how quickly women can plot revenge.”

//

The game was about to start.

Every once in a while, during the warm ups, Tamra would stare at Bokuto, trying to pry his attention from the sport, or would beckon him over to try to talk to her. Of course he never looked in her direction because 1) he didn’t really care to even be in the same room as her, and 2) this was part of the plan. He could tell she was getting annoyed by the lack of attention though, he could feel her angry gaze on him almost at all times. It also didn’t help that whenever he would make a good spike, she would say, “Nice kill!” just to get a reaction from him, but this was to be suspected.

After a while of this, the teams headed into their respected locker rooms to get into their headspace for the game. Bo texted you, ‘Hey, so far so good, she’s pissed. I miss you tho 🥺 xx’ to which you immediately replied, ‘You’re going to do great tonight babe, on and off the court! I’ll be right on the center line in the front cheering you on!! I love you💗 xx’.

Bo smiled with anticipation. This is your first game you’ve gotten to see in person in probably a year or so. Because of your business and your work ethic, it was hard to align your schedules. Not to say that he didn’t wish to see you at every single one of his games, but it never really bothered Bokuto too much that you couldn’t come because he understood what it was like to be passionate about something. It was one of his favorite things about you. He sat there in thought for a very long time so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice the time flying by.

“Alright guys, it’s time. Let’s go!” The coach’s voice rang out. All of the boys were pumped, full of adrenaline and focus.

It’s time.

//

You’re heart could not stop pounding. You stood in your spot wearing one of Bo’s old jerseys, black ripped jeans, and some white tennis shoes. You knew you looked good. Your hair and make up was done, and your ring was shining like a star under the stadium lights. You heard the screams of fangirls and knew what was to come next.

The teams started jogging out to their respected benches, and you were sitting on the same side of the court as your lover. As soon as you saw that silver and black hair, you knew. Bokuto’s smile as he was jogging alongside his team made your heart flutter, but what was even better was how his eyes lit up as soon as he saw you. His smile broadened and his cheeks tinged a slight blush, he was practically glowing.

After he sat his belongings down at the bench he ran up to you and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “Hey doll,” he smirked as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hung them on his broad shoulders, “is she watching?”

You looked past his head discreetly and there she was, arms crossed, hip popped out, and a bright red face. You completely forgot she was there, that’s how forgettable she was. You let out a low laugh that made his eyes shine with desire, “of course.” You gave him another chaste kiss, “Time to go, Bo. You got this!” His smile was so bright, you were left seeing stars as he jogged back over to the team. At the sudden realization that you were in the crowd, Hinata and Atsumu both smiled and waved at you, and you returned the nice gestures.

Throughout the entirety of the game, it went like this. Tamra focused on you while doing her manager duties, you focused solely on Bo, and he focused solely on the game. Every once in a while, when he made a kill or a nice block, he would look over at you to make sure you were watching him, which of course you were, it was hard not to, and he would tap his thumb to his ring finger. This is something he started doing right before he proposed, something that meant it was for you. This made your heart burst.

After the game ended, with Bo’s team victorious, his team huddled up and let out a few howls in excitement. In the midst of the chaos, so wrapped up in the emotion of it, Bokuto searched for you in the crowd. You caught his eyes and he started running for you, his strong arms picking up and spinning you around in a big hug. You couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement. He gave you a breathtaking kiss right on the court, as if there weren’t hundreds of people cheering around the two of you for the win. “Did you see me? Did you see everything?” He pressed his forehead to yours, looking into your eyes.

“Of course I did, Bo. You played your heart out, that was the best game I think I’ve seen you play to this date.” You said, still breathing a little heavy from the kiss.

“I did it for you.” Those words squeezed your heart. The intensity in his eyes let him know he wasn’t joking. “It was all for you.”

You held him tighter, nuzzling your face in his neck to hide the brim of tears. “I love you.”

He drew circles in the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. “I love you too.”

His team called for him, and he knew he had to go, but he just wanted to live in this moment forever. “Bo, it’s okay. You have me all to yourself for the next week.” You reminded him, letting go of him reluctantly.

He nodded, “Okay, see you soon.”, now the real game began.

///

Okay so I’ve decided... there has to be a part 5. I needed domestic Bokuto so bad because we haven’t truly had any happiness in this fic until just now!!!!! So I’m doing part 5!! And then that will be the end of it🤗🥰💗✨ I hope you all enjoyed!!

[peggyrose19]

Midnight Kisses

HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVELIES!! I’M MANIFESTING A HAPPY 2021 DAMMIT!! SO ENJOY MY PAINFULLY FLUFFY MIDNIGHT KISS FICS FOR THE SW SHIPS. THESE ARE SHIT CAUSE I STARTED THEM AT 9PM BUT IT’S FINE.

I’ll stop yelling now. I really wanna explain all of these but I’m not going to because there’s honestly no need, I just tend to over-explain things. So enjoy all the fluff and love in these little one-shots. Characters from the amazingly talented @lumosinlove. I wish you all the most boring, uneventful 2021 <333

Coops

“Look, baby,” Remus whispered, pointing up at the sky, although the fireworks were hard to miss. 

“They’re beautiful,” Sirius murmured. He wasn’t looking at the fireworks exploding in the night sky, but the man in his arms. Remus glanced down at him, catching his eye.

“What?”

Sirius shook his head. “Nothing. Just… happy. I love you.” 

Remus smiled, seeming to understand what he meant. He remembered the late night, exactly a year earlier, when he had swallowed those words down, all dim light and flushed cheeks in the back of a car, hiding from the world. Not that it had mattered. 

“I love you too,” he said back, pressing a kiss to Sirius’ cheek, and then his lips. It wasn’t yet midnight, wouldn’t be for a few hours, but Remus didn’t care. He could kiss Sirius, his fiancé, in wide open now without fear. It was a privilege he was never taking for granted. 

When midnight did come, and fireworks were set off once more, Remus kissed him again, surrounded by their friends and family as they all rung in the new year. Sirius was sweet and pliant beneath his hands, arms wrapped tightly around him, never letting go. 

It was the perfect start to a new year. 

O’Knutzy

“Happy New Year, baby!” Logan shouted, arm wrapped around Finn’s neck. 

“Lo, that was the oven,” Leo sighed from the kitchen. “It’s 11:32. Honestly, we should not have let him drink so much.”

Finn just shrugged, accepting the wet kisses Logan was now planting to his cheek and neck. 

Leo fought a smile as he watched them. So maybe drunk Logan was kind of endearing. 

“Here.” He held out one of the pigs-in-blankets from the batch cooling on the counter, and Logan took it happily in his mouth.

“Yum,” he managed around it, grinning at Leo. Finn accepted one too, still caught by Logan’s arms around him. Leo ate one too, then walked around the island to their side, wrapping his arms around them both. He kissed Logan’s cheek. 

“I’m glad I get to spend the new year with the two of you,” he murmured. 

“We’re glad too, baby,” Finn replied, twisting to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Fish.”

“I love you Knutty!” Logan yelled, and they both jumped. 

“Oh, Tremzy,” Finn sighed. “What are we gonna do with you.” 

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Kiss me?”

Leo gave him a quick kiss and pulled away. “At midnight,” he promised when Logan pouted at the loss of contact. 

“Well, midnight needs to hurry up and get here then,” he grumbled. Finn just laughed and tugged him towards the couch.

“C’mon, let’s wait for the ball to drop.”

Logan let himself be pulled, collapsing nearly on top of Finn and making no move to adjust his position. Finn flipped the television on and pulled a blanket over them, leaving room for Leo once he was done in the kitchen. 

A moment later, Leo joined them in watching the commercials currently playing, snuggling into Logan’s side, smiling happily. They watched quietly, enjoying each other’s silent company, until it was nearly time. 

At five minutes to, Leo pulled the champagne from the cabinet. Logan was nearly bouncing up and down. Leo wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to give him more alcohol. 

As the countdown began, Finn took the bottle from Leo. When they hit one, he popped it open, and all three of them cheered. With wide grins, Finn and Leo kissed Logan’s cheeks, and then each other, and then Logan one by one.

They drank their champagne and kissed again, sloppy and sticky and in love. 

When they fell back onto the couch, tangled together in a pile of limbs and blankets, it was to the sound of fireworks outside and the pounding of their own hearts, the taste of champagne on their lips, and the overwhelming feeling of the happiness that was to come.

Thoelle

Thomas still couldn’t quite believe his luck. He couldn’t believe it when he woke in the morning to Noelle asleep at his side, or the days she would pick him up at the rink, or the kiss she gave him each night before bed.

He certainly didn’t believe it was two minutes to midnight and she was by his side, arm around his waist as they waited impatiently for the ball to drop and the hour hand to fall to the 12. 

“What’re you thinking about?” she asked him, dark hair falling in a curtain over her shoulder. He ran a hand through it, in love with the silkiness and the way always she melted under his touch. 

“You,” he replied softly.

“What a charmer you are,” she murmured, but her cheeks were flushed. 

“Still can’t believe it.” 

“Believe what?” She had turned more towards him now.

“That I have you. Still feels like a dream sometimes.” 

She smiled, ducking her head. Noelle wasn't usually one to shy away from attention, but sometimes he could still get her. Thomas leaned down and lightly kissed her nose, making her laugh and look back up at him.

“You wanna know something?” she asked.

“What?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Thomas replied almost instantly, on instinct. Noelle laughed a little, eyes wide. 

“You do?”

“Of course.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a loud shout, the countdown beginning around them. Instead she just grinned up at him.

“You ready for a new year?”

“With you by my side? Hell, yeah.”

Together, they shouted the last few numbers, “Four...three...two...one!” 

As cheers erupted around them, Thomas leaned down and kissed Noelle softly.

“I love you, Noelle Tremblay,” he murmured against her lips. She pulled away and laughed, giddy and free, wrapped in his arms and warmth. 

She kissed him again, whispering back, “I love you too, Thomas Walker.” 

O’Darwin

Kasey’s constant was back, at least for a little while. 

It had been a surprise, to see Alex standing on their doorstep three days before New Years, a suitcase in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Natalie had jumped on him instantly, taking the bottle from him and kissing him, tugging him into the apartment by the collar of his jacket.

“Alex O’Hara,” she had scolded him, “How dare you show up here unannounced?” Alex had just grinned.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Kasey had shaken his head, kissing Alex softly and settling by his side on the couch. He was glad Alex was home, even if it was just for a few days. He had missed him.

Now it was nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve. All three of them were drunk, happily sequestered in the apartment. Natalie and Alex were dancing to bad pop music, leftover lights from Christmas sending rainbows dancing across their faces as they moved, with glitter in their hair and champagne on their lips. They had meant to save it for midnight, truly. 

“Kase, come dance with us!” Natalie laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him off the sofa. He let her, smiling softly at the two of them.

He looked up as the clock on the mantle began chiming, and fireworks began outside.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured to them and Natalie and Alex both cheered. They kissed each other, and then him, and Kasey smiled at the taste. 

Beginning the new year with his two favorite people wasn’t so bad after all. 

Nuny

The phone woke Jackson from his nap. He answered it groggily, not bothering to read the caller name.

“Hello?” he asked grumpily. 

“Nado?” a familiar voice asked and suddenly he was wide awake.

“Zhenya. Hey. How are you?”

“I’m good. It is uh… how you say? Midnight here.”

“Oh!” Jackson squinted at his watch, quickly doing the math on the time difference. “I guess it is. Well, happy new year.”

“Thank you.” Evgeni fell silent for a long moment. “I’m wish you were here,” he said finally, breaking the silence. 

Jackson sighed. “Me too. I miss you.” 

“Miss you. I see you soon, da?”

He smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, Kuns, soon.”

“I’m kiss you then.” 

That made Jackson laugh quietly. “Yeah, you kiss me then.” He bit his lip. “Go to sleep, Zhenya. I’ll call you again in the morning.” 

“Okay. I’m call later.”

“Good, okay. Happy New Year, Kuns.”

“Happy New Year.”

Jily

Harry was getting big. It felt like just a week ago he had been a tiny newborn, fitting in the palm of James’ hand with room to spare. Lily didn’t mind. Usually. He was nearly a year old now, able to crawl all around the house and make endless babbling noises, talking to his stuffed animals and the bugs in the garden. 

He was crawling around the living room now, dressed in a new onesie that wouldn’t fit him in another two weeks, picking at the carpet and up way past his bedtime. 

Lily and James had missed the actual countdown, preoccupied with chasing their little gremlin around the house and failing to put him to bed. Even little Harry seemed to sense the excitement in the air.

It was nearly one in the morning by the time Harry finally fell asleep, stuffed lion clutched in his tiny fingers. The two exhausted parents collapsed onto the couch, leaning into each other as their eyes slipped shut.

“I can’t believe he stayed up… for six extra hours,” Lily mumbled without opening her eyes. James just grumbled. “We missed the countdown, too.” 

“‘S okay,” he answered sleepily, “We can do it next year.” 

“Yeah.” They fell silent. Eventually, Lily said, “We should get to bed.” 

They stumbled to their feet and upstairs to their bedroom, too tired to even bother with brushing their teeth. They just fell into bed, curled up together exhausted and happy.

“Happy New Year, Lily,” James whispered into the darkness.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered back, and kissed him sweetly. She snuggled closer, laying her head on his chest, and the two fell instantly asleep to the distant sound of leftover fireworks. 

[rhysismydaddy]

Failing a Polygraph (Nessian)

All I write is Nessian. Wrote this in 5 minutes because I had a dream about being in the CIA and having to take one of these.

________________________________________________________________

“State your name for the record.”

“Nesta Archeron.”

The annoyingly beautiful man across from her smiled as the polygraph machine started taking down a baseline. 

Nesta sat, perfectly unmoving, and tried not to roll her eyes. These things were so tedious. And besides being a huge waste of time, they’d taught her in the academy how to beat one, so it was actually kind of pointless. 

“Date of birth?”

She sighed. “March 15th, 1995.”

“Just two days after mine,” Cassian pointed out, oh-so-helpfully. 

“That’s not a question.”

He smiled, dimples popping up on his tan skin. “Right you are. You’re applying to the Paramilitary Operations Unit, correct?”

“Yes.” 

He should very well know, considering it was his unit, but she kept that to herself. 

“Why?”

Fuck, I hate polygraphs. 

“I’ve maintained my cover during my three years with the CIA, so I’d be perfect for undercover ops.” He didn’t look impressed, so she continued. “Plus, I aced all the exams to enter the unit.”

“Did you now?”

She didn’t ask why he didn’t just look at the needle in front of him to see that it was the truth. Cassian just sat there, smirking like always, golden eyes studying everything about her. 

“I believe I scored one point higher than you, actually,” she said cooly, unable to help it. 

She never had figured out how to bite her tongue around him. 

They’d met around two weeks ago, after her preliminary interview for the unit. Nesta had bumped into him in the hallway, not known he lead the program she desperately wanted to be a part of, and had given him her piece of mind when he’d commented on her dress.

Or rather, what was under her dress. 

It wasn’t exactly a great first impression.

Not that he seemed to mind. Ever since then, he’d been teasing her, and flirting with her, and driving her insane in every possible way. 

Including now. 

Cassian smiled, leaning back in the chair and watching the needle move in between them. 

“Tell me a secret,” he said, eyes twinkling with undisguised interest.

Just to mess with him, she responded, “I had a dream about you last night.”

He twirled a hand in the air. “Elaborate.”

“I was at a drive-thru, and you were the one flipping burgers,” Nesta replied, biting her lip to keep the smile off her face.

“Very funny.” He scowled at her, which only made her smile grow. “Have you ever committed a crime?”

“Nope.” She gave him a small smile. “Contemplated assault a few times, though.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Have you ever committed an act of treason against the United States?”

“No.”

“Great. Boring questions are out of the way.” 

Wonderful.

“What’s your most embarrassing memory?”

Nesta finally gave into the urge to roll her eyes. “In ninth grade, I got off the school bus and the wind lifted up my skirt. And before you ask, yes, I was wearing underwear.”

“I’m jealous of the kid behind you,” he joked, running a hand through his hair. She traced the motion, wondering how the hell he managed to look good even under fluorescent lighting. “Let’s see... what else do I want to know?”

“No, what else do you need to know? For the purpose of giving me a job?”

He shrugged one of his massive shoulders. “Same difference, baby. I want to know... won’t you find it difficult?”

“Find what difficult, Cassian?” she spat back, both loving and dreading the tone of his voice. 

He smirked, full lips so damn distracting. “Working under me.”

It was an innocent question, but the way he said it made it beyond obvious what he meant. 

“Nope,” she replied, popping the p with satisfaction. 

“Really?” he scoffs, golden eyes twinkling with mischief. “I mean, it’s beyond obvious you’re attracted to me.”

Nesta gritted her teeth, the urge to rip the wires off her and strangle him with them growing by the second. “First, I’ll remind you this is a professional polygraph.” He rolled his eyes. “Second, you’re supposed to be asking me questions.”

“Fine.” He leaned forward, thick arms crossed on the table. “Are you attracted to me, Nesta?”

Her mouth dropped open on its own accord. Is he serious?

“I’m reporting you to your superiors,” she mumbled back, face heating with a blush. 

A laugh. “Who, Rhysand? My best friend? Fell free. Now answer the question.”

“What question was that, exactly?” she asked, trying everything to stall the inevitable. 

Cassian rolled his eyes, well on to her games. “Nesta Archeron, are you attracted to me?”

“No,” she said back, using all the tips and tricks she’d learned in the academy to fool the machine. 

He grinned, eyes shooting to the polygraph machine between them. They lit up like a fucking kid on Christmas when he looked back up. “That’s a lie.”

Shit shit shit. There was literally no telling what was going to happen next. 

“Machines make mistakes.”

Cassian shrugged, leaning closer to her. “Next question, then. Have you ever imagined having sex with me?”

Every time I look at you, you fucking miserable bastard.

“No.”

He didn’t even need the polygraph to catch that lie. Her blush was so bad, she wondered if she’d catch fire and burn through her skin. This was the most embarrassing thing she’d ever gone through. 

Except, for some reason, she wasn’t that embarrassed. It was obvious he already knew she was attracted to him, so he was probably just messing with her. 

“That’s a lie,” he repeated with a smile. 

Before he could ask another damning question, she said, “This is very unprofessional. And annoying. If this were reversed, would you endure it?”

“Yep. Ask me anything you want.”

She hadn’t really seen that coming. 

She decided to give him a taste of his own sickeningly sweet medicine. “Are you attracted to me?” she asked, sure he’d lie and say no. He hadn’t been the only one to catch onto something.

“Yes, I am. Infuriatingly so.”

Nesta decided she’d never breathe normally again, but she whispered back, “And have you thought about-”

“Having sex with you? Oh, baby girl, you have no idea. I think about having you under me all the fucking time.” He gave her a sour look. “I hardly get anything done with you around.”

She needed to get her jaw wired shut or something, because it was ridiculous to just sit here with her mouth open like this. 

“So, you see, you can’t be in the unit.” Wait, what? I’m going to fucking kill him. “And before you try to strangle me, I’ve already recommended you for the Special Operations Unit, which is basically the same thing, just not for vets. Okay?”

Wait... then why- “Why the hell did you make me take this poly, then?”

He smiled that little smile of his. “I had a hunch you wanted to jump me, but I couldn’t be sure until I had you hooked up to this thing.”

Oh, that’s it. Nesta grabbed the wires across her chest and threw them on the table with a growl, getting up so fast her chair hit the wall with a bang. 

She exploded into the hallway, practically sprinting towards towards the exit. She was almost there, literally had her hand around the handle, when something wrapped around her waist and pulled her the other direction. 

Straight into a supply closet. 

“What the-”

Cassian grabbed her wrists and slammed them above her head into the door now closed behind her, then pressed his lips roughly against hers. 

His mouth was hot on hers, devouring her everywhere, and he kissed her like a drowning man coming up for air. 

And, much to her own surprise, she kissed him back. 

She told him how much she hated--and wanted--him with her mouth, making sure he understood her perfectly. Nesta knew she should stop, knew they were at work and that she wasn’t about to let him have her in a damned supply closet.

But she also couldn’t bring herself to care.

So she kissed him until she went weak in the knees, and his arms wrapped around her waist to keep her standing. 

He pulled back, nipped her nose, and murmured, “See, I can’t exactly do that to the people in my unit.”

She just nodded and pulled him back down to her. “I’m still filing a complaint about you,” Nesta told him, completely serious.

Cassian kissed her again, lips now sweet against hers. “I’m not worried. Worked out pretty well for me, anyway.”

________________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading... drop prompts/asks in the box :)

Coming out with some Rowaelin tomorrow.

@a-bit-of-a-cactus @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @aesthetics-11 @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life

[tinyboxxtink]

“My Fairy Abogado” *Part 2*

I’m really shocked people like this as much as they do, this was literally a dream I had one night and decided to write about. 😁

PART 1

Part 3

Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@dumauier

------------

“Sooooooo, what was that?” Marisol immediately grilled you.

“What was what?” 

“He slipped you a card! I saw it!”

“Oh,” you handed her the card. “He said he might be able to help my parents,”

“Can he even do that? Don’t you have to be like a special immigration lawyer or something?” 

“He can do whatever he wants, he’s the ADA,” a voice came from behind you.

“Ah! Ash! Don’t DO that!” You spun around to see her sitting on a bar stool. 

“Why? Afraid I’ll hear you talking bad about my abogado? Or….good, even?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh shut up,” You hit her. “Did you need something?” 

“Yeah I just wanted to tell you Raf and I will have two number 23’s, mine with green chile sauce his with red and extra extra jalapenos, and a dozen tortillas,” 

“That’s a lot of food for two people,”

“He’s buying,” She shrugged with a smile before walking back to their table. 

“I swear to God that girl is like a cat,” 

“Yeah, thank god she came up before we actually got to the juicy stuff!” Mari giggled.

“What ‘juicy stuff’?” 

“Oh please, I saw the way you looked at him when he came in, and while you were talking to them. 

“And how exactly was I looking at him?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Like a popsicle on a summer day,”  She poked her tongue to the side of her mouth, moving her hand to the other side in a pumping to the side motion. 

“OH MY GOD, Marisol!!!” You grabbed her hands and moved them away, looking around frantically. 

“What’s that mean?”

“Ah!” You yelped again, this time it was your seven year old sister Chloe.

“Chloe, you can’t just sneak up on people,” 

“I was sitting right here,”

“Right,” “Did you need something Chlo?” 

“Yeah, I need a refill,” She held out her soda cup to you, which you leaned over the bar to fill up. 

“Who’s that guy with Ash?” She pointed at Rafael and Ash’s table.

“He’s her…'Tio,” You lied.

“I thought it was just her and her abuela,” 

“He’s a….long lost Tio,” 

“Oh, why’d he give you his number?” 

“Who gave Y/N his number?” Your fifteen year old brother Beto came up behind Chloe.

“Now what do you need?”

“Mas chips,” he held out the empty chip basket. You sighed and handed it Marisol to fill up from the kitchen.

“Now who gave you his number?”

“Ash’s Tio,” Chloe informed him, pointing at Rafael.

“Ash doesn’t have any family, they were all ki--” he started, but you made a slicing hand motion across your neck. 

“...Kicked out of America,” 

“Like mami and papi?” 

“...Yeah, sure. But Ash doesn’t have anybody else,” 

“Yes, she does. And he’s her--” you started to tell Chloe, but she was gone. Your eyes darted to Raf and Ash’s table, where Chloe had run off to. 

“Are you Ash’s tio?” You could hear her ask, as you practically leapt over the bar and ran over to the table.

“I am so sorry, she’s…” You clamped a hand over Chloe’s mouth.

“Nosy,” Ash finished for you. She stuck her tongue out at Chloe, who did the same back. Sometimes you didn’t know who was older.

“It’s fine,” Rafael smiled, then held out his hand to Chloe. “I’m Rafael,” 

“Chloe,” She took his hand very regally. “Very nice to meet you,” she said in a very proper accent. 

“So why did you give my sister your number?” Beto once again came trailing up behind the group. 

“Are you kidding me-- BETO,” You turned around and smacked him. “Don’t you have chips to refill? And homework to do?”

“Well if a guy papi’s age is hitting on my sister, I’d like to know about it,” he glared at Rafael, who smirked in amusement back.

“That’s it,”  You took them both by their shirts and escorted them away, back to their table.

“Yasmine,” You hit your twelve year old sister, who was listening to her iPod. She took out her ear pods when you hit her. 

“What?” She exclaimed angrily.

“You just let them run around, bothering customers?!” You gestured to the two of them.

“Beto’s fifteen, and he can watch Chloe. I have a science quiz tomorrow, I’m trying to study! Or do you WANT me to fail Bio? I’m sure that’ll look really awesome on the progress report that gets sent to Child Services!” She scoffed. 

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes then looked at your brother and sister.

“Look-- Rafael is a nice man, who offered to help mami and papi, okay? NOBODY is hitting on anybody, it’s just a business thing. Okay?” 

“He’s going to help mami and papi?!” Chloe’s eyes lit up. You probably shouldn’t have made that kind of promise, seeing as you didn’t even know if he could help you.

“Try, Chlo,” you shushed her. “Try. I don’t know if he can,” 

“Yeah well, that better be all he’s doing,” Beto narrowed his eyes at their table. “I saw the way he was looking at you,” 

“Beto! Jesus…” You grabbed the full chip basket off the bar and shoved it in his hands, gesturing for them both to get back in the booth. 

“Now you three finish up and go upstairs, shower, and you two help Chloe to bed,” You instructed the three of them.

“And NOBODY bother Mr. Rafael again, si?” you eyed them. 

“Alright fine,” Beto grabbed a chip and went back to his homework. 

“I wasn’t bothering him-- but fine,” Chloe sipped her soda.

“Great,” you sighed, turning back and heading to the kitchen to grab Rafael and Ash’s food. 

This was gonna be a long night.

------

You walked back across the restaurant and saw Marisol handing them their food.

“Um, Mari-- I got it,” You came up behind her.

“Oh! Hey, Y/N,” She grinned. “You know, I was just thinking, maybe you sit here and chat with Rafael. I can cover the tables,” 

“....And why, would I do that?” 

“Because I asked her to,” Rafael poked his head around her. You glanced at Mari, who gave you a suggestive look. 

“I...Um...Yeah, okay,” You shook your head and took your apron off, sitting next to Ash in the booth across from Rafael. 

“I’ll be right back, margarita for the lady?” She winked. 

“Use the cheap tequila, Mari!” you called after her. “It’s easier to mark off!” 

“Oh I’ll pay for it,” Rafael assured you. 

“What? No, that’s-- no no no, that’s fine,” You waved your hands in dismissal. You hated being a charity case.

“Oh God do I have to sit here and be a third wheel on your date,” Ash groaned.

“It’s not a date!” You blushed. “It’s an...interview,” 

“An interview?” 

“Well yeah, don’t you interview people you want to hire? I assume you do that with lawyers, right?” 

“Oh! Yeah, sure sure,” He nodded, sipping his scotch. “Works both ways,” he winked. 

“Lord Jesus kill me now,” Ash faked a gagging noise.

“If I give you the weekend off will you shut up for the rest of the meal?” You offered.

“You won’t even know I’m here,” She smiled, popping ear buds in her ears and pulling up Netflix on her phone.

“Excellent negotiating skills,” Rafael smiled. “I might have a formidable client,” 

“I try,” you smiled back.

------

The rest of the night went by so fast, you couldn’t believe it.

You and Rafael talked about literally everything. You told him about how you had moved into the city to pursue acting, but when your parents were deported you came back home to take care of your siblings. He told you about growing up in the Barrio, how hard he worked to pull himself up and out of it. You admired that so much, especially because it’s exactly what you were trying to do. You talked about likes, and dislikes. Favorite things, pet peeves, everything under the sun. Before you knew it, the restaurant was empty and Marisol was locking the doors.

“Oh my god,” You noticed her.  “Oh my GOD, what time is it?!” You glanced at your phone.

“Oh Jesus, it’s 11:30,” Rafael noticed his watch. 

“I am so sorry, Ash--” you turned next to you to see Ash asleep against the wall. 

“Wow,” You half laughed. “She’s so sweet when she’s sleeping,” 

“And only then,” Raf added with a laugh himself. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Barba,” Marisol finally dropped off the check. 

“Rafael, please Marisol,” He told her as he handed him his credit card. 

“I am so sorry, I must have talked your ear off,” You apologized, nudging Ash to wake up. She slowly opened her eyes and stretched, then looked at her phone with wide eyes.

“Holy SHIT, Rafa!” She jumped up. “Abuela is gonna think the Diablo’s came for me!” 

“I texted her, she knows you’re with me,” He assured her. 

“Right...did you also tell her you were trying to sleep with my boss?” She raised an eyebrow.

“ASH-- Door, now.” He pointed to the front door. She rolled her eyes but went and waited outside.

“I really am sorry,” You nervously apologized again.

“Don’t be, I haven’t had someone to talk to like that in a very, very long time. It was nice,” He took your hand. 

“Yeah, it was,” You could feel yourself blushing.

“Okay Rafael, there you go. And thank you for stopping in,” Mari handed him his check back. 

“Thanks Mari,” He scribbled a tip and signed it, nodding to the both of you. 

“Holy shit,” Mari whispered, handing you the check. Your eyes grew three sizes, you practically sprinted after Rafael.

“Wait!” You caught him as he walked halfway out the door. 

“What’s up?” He turned back towards you.

“I’m, I’m sorry-- I think you might have accidentally written an extra zero, I didn’t want you to be shocked tomorrow,” You sheepishly smiled, handing him the check back. In the tip area it read “$1000”.

“Oh um...no, that’s right,” He muttered.

“...Excuse me?” 

“I just, I wanted to help you out,” He gave you a soft smile. 

“So...So that’s what this was,” Your voice softened. 

“What?”

“This whole night,” your voice became angrier. “This whole time, you were being nice to me because you felt sorry for me?!”

“What? No! I--”

“Well thank you, Mr. Barba. But I am nobody’s charity case,” You took the check and ripped it up, tossing the confetti on the ground. 

“Y/N come on, that’s not what I was--” He started to explain, but you wouldn’t hear any of it. 

“Ash I’ll see you Monday,” You called to her, then shut the door and locked it, leaving Rafael standing outside, dumbfounded. 

“What the hell was that?” Marisol walked towards you from the kitchen.

“The NERVE of that--” you pulled out his card from your apron and ripped it up angrily.

“What the hell did you do?” She gestured outside.

“What did I do?! Mari he just tried to give me a thousand dollars! To be ‘nice’!” You almost screamed.

“So? That is pretty damn nice!”

“I’m not a charity case!” You did your best to calm down, trying not to wake the kids. But your blood was boiling. 

“Y/N look around,” Marisol gestured around the restaurant. “You are the DEFINITION of a charity case,” 

“Oh screw you,” you rolled your eyes and started walking towards the back to count your 

“I’m serious!” She followed you. 

“You’re drowning, and you know it. You have zero idea how to run this place, let alone take care of your brother and sisters,” She gestured upstairs. 

“My parents opened and kept this place running for 25 years, with nobody’s charity,” you mumbled angrily.

“Yeah and they started with just the two of them, not three extra mouths to feed,” She stopped you from counting and made you look at her.

“What are you gonna do when Child Services shows up and they see the shape this place is in? They’ll take them, and then you’ll really have no one.” She pushed a finger on your chest.

“This perfectly nice, amazingly attractive guy shows up and offers not only to help you get your parents back but graciously gives you some extra money? And you yelled at him?!” 

“You yelled at Rafael?!” Chloe’s voice came from the stairs.

“Oh my god, Chloe!” You turned to see her sitting on the bottom stair.  “You are supposed to be in bed!” 

“I couldn’t sleep, you weren’t upstairs,” She shrugged. “Why did you yell at Rafael?! Now he’ll never help mami and papi!” 

“Chlo, come on he--” 

“No! He wanted to help, and you yelled at him. Now he’ll never come back, and we’ll never see mami and papi again! I hate you!” She stomped back up the stairs in tears. 

“...Great,” You sighed, looking at Marisol who had a look. “What?” 

“I’m just saying--” 

“And I’M just saying, I thought he really liked me, okay?” You had tears in your own eyes. 

“How do you know he didn’t?!” 

“He tried to give me A THOUSAND DOLLARS, Marisol! For a $50 dollar meal. He must think I’m pathetic! He probably sat there all night just…” You trailed off, imagining all the bad things he could’ve been thinking. 

“Babe, I don’t think he would’ve talked to you all night if he thought you were pathetic,” She raised an eyebrow. 

“....Whatever, I have to take care of Chloe-- can you finish down here?” 

“Yeah. I’ll lock up, night babe,” 

It took you a while, but you finally got Chloe back to bed. Then you went into your own room and laid down, now beating yourself up. 

What if he did like you? What if he was just being nice? You weren’t used to people just being nice. Was that even a thing? There was nothing you could do now, you ripped up his card. 

How were you going to fix it??

[yandere-ac]

How about Zell or Beau?

Yandere Zell X Reader X Yandere Beau

Family

Journal entry: 689, 11 June 2020

It’s now day 1460 since we last saw our dear mayor. The others are saying that they aren’t coming back. That we should all move on. But I still have hope, I know them. They would never leave me! We’re beat buds! But it’s getting harder and harder everyday to keep hope up. I will never give up hope, I’ll keep hoping. For their sake

Zell sighed as he closed his journal. This is how life has been for him, every day for the past four years. The only thing he looked forward to in the morning was the possibility of maybe, just maybe, his mayor and close friend would return. But he can’t keep fooling himself, no matter how hard he tried. He knew the chances of you returning were next to nothing. He was worried that something could have happened to you, but even if something did happen, by now it’s too late to do anything about it. Most of the other villagers had already accepted this fact, but not Zell. No, never Zell. He couldn’t accept the fact that he would most likely never see you again. So he tried to trick himself into believing that there was still a chance he would get to see you again, by now, that thought was the only thing that kept him sane. But no matter, there was the tiny part of his mind that kept saying that he would never see you ever again. But boy was he wrong.

It was another day in the village, the sky was filling to the brim with dark clouds. All of a sudden the rain that was filling the clouds started to pour down hard. Now, this wasn’t your usual rain, no. This was much more violent. The rain was pouring down like the streams going down a waterfall, and anyone who was still outside had to get in quickly. One of those people was Zell. As he slammed his door behind him he stood in silence for a couple of seconds, letting the water drip onto the floor. This was his favourite shirt, and now, just like his mood, it was ruined. He threw off his shirt as it landed on the floor it gave off a lout splat. That was the shirt you gave him. It was the last thing he had from you. And now it was ruined, GONE...just like you...

It all crashed down on him in that moment, the realisation that he would never see you, that you could be hurt or worse, left the island without even caring about what he had to say. He felt his eyes sting, knowing that feeling all to well. He tried to fan his eyes but when that failed it only made his eyes well up more. Before he could calm himself he collapsed down into the ground. Hot tears rolling down his face. He did nothing to stop them, he just laid there. Letting his dreadful thoughts take over him. He cried and cried and screamed and cried. And when he couldn’t cry anymore, he laid on the ground, letting his breath return to normal. And then he stood up, went to the kitchen to make some tea, and when that was done, he went to go watch some tv.

Flipping through the channels he found nothing to watch, or at least anything he liked. That was until he saw what appeared to be some sort of interview of K.K. Slider. “This oughta do it” he said, eyes still red from crying. The interview was about some sort of visit that K.K. Had recently done.

“So tell me Mr. Slider, is it true that you hosted a private concert on the island (I/N) completely free of charge?” (I/N)? Zell has heard about that island. It was the island were Tom Nook lived with his two kids. Or well, what he could only assume was his kids, they looked very alike. But other than that he didn’t know anything else about the island.

“Ayup, sure did Francis” K.K. told the interviewer.

“Well, could we ask you why mr. Slider?” The interviewer, Francis asked.

“They seemed cool, and I had a deal with Mr. Nook. Heh, 'deal'. It sounds so formal and almost like I had a gun held to my head, but I can assure you. It was really fun. (I/N) is a really nice island, I actually stayed there for a while before I went back home” K.K. said. As he told his story, a bunch of pictures came up on the screen. They were seemingly taken by K.K himself, and yeah Zell had to admit, the island certainly looked nice. There were beaches and fruit trees and the folks looked really nice an- OH MY GOD!!!

Zell quickly stood up, the tea he was previously holding falling down to the ground, smashing into thousands of pieces. But Zell didn’t care, his eyes were glued to the tv screen. There, right on the screen, were a photo of K.K. and a human. A human that he would recognise any were. A human that he had spent years of his life with. A human that he had spent FOUR YEARS yearning after. It was you. You were alive! And you looked so different! Your hair looked different and you were wearing different clothes. But even then, Zell could still recognise you. You were holding your arm around K.K.’a shoulder and smiling to the camera. Zell didn’t know why but this made him feel...something. Anger? Sadness? Irritation? Whatever it was. He didn’t like it. But that didn’t matter right now, what mattered was you were alive and out there, which meant he could find you! (I/N) was it? Well, maybe it was time for him to buy an island getaway package. After all of this, he needed a vacation...

Another day, another opportunity. Beau was sitting under a tree, eating a donut and thinking about life in general. That’s when he heard a voice call out to him. “Beau! Over here!” He turned his head to where the voice came from, smiling as he knew exactly who it was. And there you were, running towards him with a big smile on your face. As you reached him you sat down besides him, taking a few seconds to catch your breath. “What’s up saltlick?” He asked, giving you a smile. “Hi Beau, I wanted to ask you if you’d like to have a picnic with me, Timmy and Tommy later? We’re gonna eat lots of cake” as you told him this his eyes lit up with joy. “Would I? Of course I wanna join you! When is it?” He exclaimed putting his hoofs together and giving you a raid, happy nod. You laughed a little at this, classic Beau. So quick to fall asleep whenever but lightning fast as soon as you mention food. “Well, we were thinking it would be around 2 pm when the boys have their break, think you could make it?” You asked him, Beau only responded to this with more rapid nodding.

The two of you talked a little longer until it was time for Isabelles morning announcement. You walked near one of the speakers by the plaza to hear a bit better. “Good morning everyone! Isabelle here with your morning announcement. Today we have a new neighbour joining us, so make sure to give them a warm welcome from all of (I/N). That’s it for today, have fun”

Oh? “We’re getting a new resident? Did you about this Y/N?” Beau asked you, looking very confused. “No, I wasn’t informed about this at all” you answered heading into the resident service.

As you entered, the sound of a bell pinging slightly came from the door. This made a certain Tanookis ears perk up as he quickly turned to the door with a smile. “Oh, Y/N. Come in, come in!” He said, as you sat down he could see how curiosity was gracing your features, like a small child following their guardian to ask them what they’re doing. “Hmm? Is something wrong?” He tilted his head and you could see Isabelle walk towards the both of you. “Hello Y/N! How are you doing today?” She asked with a large smile. This made you chuckle slightly, she was so adorable sometimes. “I’m doing alright but uhh...is there a new resident moving here today?” You asked, wondering about this new islander. “Oh yes! He asked to move in here in as soon as possible, I think he said it was very urgent and that he would pay to get a spot on this specific island. I of course told him that there’s no need for payment. But yes, he’ll be arriving here shortly, in a few hours I think” Tom answered you, pulling up some papers out of a drawer. “His name was...Zell! His name was Zell and he’s a deer” this made your heart stop...Z...Zell? “Mr. Nook-“ “Please Y/N, there’s no need for such formalities” “Oh, right. Tom, could I perhaps see a picture of...Zell?” You asked him, Tom nodded and handed you the file. As soon as the file was in your grasp you started to frantically flip through the notes, looking for something that would indeed affirm your hopes.

“Sorry that I held up your picnic boys” you told the two small tanookies standing besides you. You and a bunch of other residents where waiting for Zell to arrive. You was the first one to sit down and wait. But over time Timmy, Tommy and Beau has joined you. And slowly, the entire island was sitting there in anticipation. “It’s alright Y/N ...ʸ/ᴺ. We would have had to cancel it anyways, we wanna welcome our new resident after all ...ᵃˡˡ” You smiles at the two boys, always so selfless. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a plane flying close by. It was Wilbur! You stood up as the plane landed by the dock. You felt like you were about to explode out of both nervousness and excitement, if it hadn’t been for all the people here, you would have run into the airport. After a few minutes, you saw a figure come out of the airport. And just like you, he stood frozen there. It was him. It was Zell.

Without a word, you started sprinting towards him. And so did he. The two of you met in the middle and you crashed into a big hug. Tears started to pour out of your eyes. You were shaking out of pure joy. Zell embraced you so hard. Feeling like if he let you go, you would disappear once again. A lot of residents looked confused as they saw the scene before them. Even Beau could be seen with a slightly...irritation in his eyes. But after a while, you and Zell exited out of the hug. But you were still holding each other’s arms. You let out a shaky breath as you gave him a smile, only to be met with eyes filled with tears and despair. “Why did you leave me”

A single grade that made your heart split in two, he thought you had left him. “Zell, no I-I didn’t want to leave. It was purely against my will! Trust me! There wasn’t a day when I didn’t think about you, i searched everywhere but...” you couldn’t finish the sentence, voice cracking and even more tears poring out. Zell only responded by hugging you again. “Please don’t leave again...” “I won’t”

While the two of you were embracing each other. There was an antelope watching you, much to his dismay. How dare this deer come out of nowhere and just ruin his evening plans with y ou. You were gonna have a picnic with Timmy and Tommy, it would almost feel like you were a family, but no, this random deer just HAD to move in. It made him sick to his stomach. But he had to put on a fake persona, he didn’t want you to find out about his true emotions. Y/N walked up to the others, holding Zells hand, and started introducing him to everyone. So it seems you two had a background, way before Beau met you. That made him and but he knew you liked him more. But as Y/N was explaining the situation Zell came up and hugged her from behind very tenderly. This made Beaus blood boil to the point were he could barely keep it inside of him. He’d have to have a talk with this deer later.

It was nighttime now, you and Zell had been with each other the whole day, but now it was time to sleep. You said goodbye to each other and as Zell went into his home, he’d have a lot of things to unpack. But as he closed his door and turned on the lights he saw that Beau, the antelope from earlier were sitting by his boxes of furnitures. “Hello, Zell was it? I need to speak with you” Zell looked cautiously at the Antelope. Carefully planning his next move, like a feline ready to attack. “Who are you, how did you get in here?” Zell squinted slightly, still glaring at the person in front of him. “Beau, but that doesn’t matter. I wanted to tell you to stay away from Y/N. I don’t care if you used to be friends or something, but they’re mine now. So back off” Beau said, pressing the word friends as if the thought of that disgusted him. This made Zell chuckle, much to Beaus dismay. “Hey! Quit laughing! I’m serious!” He said getting more and more annoyed by the second. “Ahaha...listen pronk...you don’t know how long I’ve been without Y/N, how long I’ve yearned for them. And if you think I will EVER give them up just because of some empty threats from someone like you? Then you’ve got another thing coming. You don’t seem to understand how far I’m willing to go for Y/N. So unless you want to become a corpse, then I suggest getting the fuck out of my house”

This made Beau tense up a little bit. He hadn’t expected for Zell to bite back. He usually didn’t resort to threats when it came to keeping you for himself. But when he did, most people would stay away. He’d never actually had to hurt someone to keep you, but maybe this would be the first time. “Bad choice saltlick...” he got into a fighting stance, preparing to start butting his newfound rival. Zell also got down to prepare himself but then it struck him. “Are you close to Y/N?” He asked, slowly but carefully standing up straight. This caught Beau off guard, what? Why would he care? “Yes...we’re very close...how come?” And just like Zell, Beau rose up into his normal posture. “Hmm, then they would be very sad if you died...i have an idea” Zell said coming closer to Beau. ”Stay back!” Beau quickly felt like the tankes had turned. He came in with the confidence that he would convince Zell, but now he actually started to get scared. “Oh calm down you baby, I’m not gonna hurt you...as long as you comply, got that?” Zell demanded, Beau only only frantically in response. “Good...good. Now, let me ask you this Beau. When you see others talking to Y/N, don’t you feel a burning sensation in your chest? Don’t you feel like you want to get rid of them? Like you want to-“

“Lock Y/N up and keep them forever...yes...practically everyday...” Zell grinned at the Antelopes Quick response, he knew that hungry craving stare anywhere. Beau was lovesick, just like he was. But for the first time in Zells life, two lovesick people had fallen for the same person. And while sure, they could battle over who gets to keep you, Zell could use this- could use Beau, to his advantage. “Well, how about we help each other out. We both want the same thing don’t we? So instead of unnecessary violence, how about we put our brains and brawn together to get what we both want” Zell prompted, now walking around the room, looking at his boxesz. “Y/N?” “Bingo! That’s right, Y/N...”

Drip...drip...drip...

God...damn it...there was a persistent dripping noice coming from somewhere in your room. It had woken you up, much to your dismay. You tried to get up only to hear the sound of chains ring through the room. What? What was this. You starter to move more only to hear the chain noice even more vividly. Now you were starting to get scared. You were tied to a bed. Now you were full on thrashing and your heart was beating so fast. After a few moments the dark room filled with bright light, light that made you close your eyes before they got used to the light. Seeing who stood in the hallway made you oh so relieved. It was Zell and Beau, but the relive only lasted for a few seconds until you realized where you were. You were in Beaus basement. You had been there a few times, at least enough times to know that everything remained the same except for the bed you were chained to. It was a king sized bed, with you tied up in the middle. “Zell? Beau? What’s going on?” You asked, voice shaking slightly. Zell only responded to this by chuckling deeply, you could see Beau tense up behind him, ears going back out of...fear? “Why, my dear Y/N. You see last night our friend Beau snuck into my house in hopes of scaring me off of you. That of course didn’t happen” hearing this you let out a audible gasp, he did what. As you looked over at Beau he shrunk down onto his own skin, looking like a cat with its tail between its legs. “No, instead we were gonna fight to the death to see who would have you. But then, I got a better idea. Instead of this relentless fighting, why don’t we just share you!” As Zell said this, something crazy lit up in his eyes, you didn’t like it. “And that’s what we did! I’ve moved into Beaus place and now both me and Beau can keep you to ourselves! Isn’t it great Y/N?!” Zell was quickly approaching you, grabbing a hold of your face, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t you get it Y/N? This way I’ll never have to worry about you leaving me again! I’ve waited for so long to finally feel your touch again, and I’m not gonna let some other 8 residents take up all your attention!” As he said this he laid down on your right side, curling up around your body. Beau was still standing in the doorway, he looked very uncomfortable.

“...why...why me?” You asked, tears now pouring out. “Because we love you, dear Y/N” Zell answered giving you a light peck on the cheek. He looked over to Beau and smirked. “Beau? Are you coming?” Beau flinched a little when Zell said his name. But after a few seconds, he complied and laid down on your left side. You could see Zell move his hand to touch the arm that Beau had wrapped around you.

Zell wasn’t gonna lie, Beau was a cute antelope, very sweet and charming. But the cutest about him was how he thought he had any power in this situation. He found it adorable when he quivered in his presence, poor guy was probably terrified of him. But that’s good. After all, fear is the easiest way of controlling someone. He’d keep him around for a little while, for as long as he could. But make no mistake, if Beau did anything to step out of line, he wouldn’t hesitate to end his life. Meanwhile, you laid in between them, just the other day you were happier than ever to see Zell but now? Now you were terrified of this deer. What had happened to him? This wasn’t the deer you loved.

The deer you loved was dead.

This husk of him, laying next to you was the only thing that remained.

[snowdice]

Gaps in His Files (Part 14) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

They’re so dumb... just... so... dumb.

Note that I just posted Part 13 a minute before this!! Read that first!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

When Patton arrived back at his apartment for the first time since Tuesday afternoon (though it felt like it had been much longer), he decided to finally take Remy’s advice. He grabbed a tub of ice cream, sat down on his couch, and just cried for about two hours before he finally fell asleep. He woke to the sound of frantic knocking on his door. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled to the door and opened it.

“Put this on!” was the first thing the person on the other side of the door said, thrusting a hanger with a white bag covering its contents at Patton.

“Wha?” Patton asked as Logan shoved his way into the apartment.

“We’re going to be late,” Logan stressed. “We can’t be late, Patton!”

“Late for what? Logan what?” God Patton shouldn’t have left him alone. What was he thinking?

“I forgot about the reservations. How could I forget about the reservations, Patton?”

“Logan?” Patton said cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“I am perfectly well, but we need to be to the park by 6, and I have just remembered all of the ways this could go wrong!” As he spoke, he ripped the bag off his own black suit and hung the other hanger up on Patton’s coat closet door before starting to strip out of his trousers.

Patton paused, hopeful. He seemed… more confused than he had been since he’d lost his memories, but… “You remember something?” he asked softly.

“Oh, I remember everything,” he said waving his hand through the air absentmindedly, standing in the middle of Patton’s apartment in his underwear as he grabbed the dress pants and started to struggle into them.

“You remember?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, the coffee shop, the surgery, the dates, you staying over at my place 81.3% of the time because it’s closer to the hospital, the fact that you leave dried up pens all over my living room,” he blathered as he finished fastening the pants. Once he was done with that, he stepped toward Patton and grabbed his face in his hands. “The fact that you will never go along with my plans without some form of argument. Put the suit on Patton!”

Patton gapped at him for a moment before his mouth slammed shut, his hands clenched at his sides, and his eyes started to well with tears. “Maybe lead with that next time,” he spat.

Logan did that double blink thing he did when he was particularly startled by Patton. “Apologies love, you are correct of course,” and oh, how was Patton supposed to stay mad at that? Patton softened, and, when he titled his head up to look him in the eyes, Logan pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I think we may have a lot to talk about,” Logan said softly, and oh. Oh right. Patton hadn’t really thought though the possible consequences of his outburst now that Logan remembered everything. “But right now, we have somewhere we really need to be. I’ve bought you a suit that will look very pretty on you. Will you please put it on for me, love?”

Patton nodded, brain a whirlwind of emotions, but he got another quick sweet kiss out of it that steadied him enough to do as he asked.

The next thing Patton knew, he was literally flying out of his apartment. Logan said it was the only way they’d make it to wherever they were going on time.

Not wanting to be seen, Logan had to land them a couple of blocks away from the busy park in one of the city’s closer suburbs. He kept looking at his watch as he towed Patton by the hand toward the center of the park

“Um, Logan,” Patton said, “it looks like we aren’t supposed to be here. There aren’t any people and it’s blocked off by rope.” He pointed to said rope with his free hand while trying to tug at the hand in Logan’s grip to make him stop.

He paused and turned to Patton. “Dear, please, in,” he glanced at his watch, “five minutes and 53 seconds, I will be happy to do anything you say, but will you just do as I ask for a little under six minutes?”

“I…fine.”

“Good,” Logan proceeded to pull him towards a blocked off area near the base of the fountain. He searched the ground for something and then pointed at a bit of glow-in-the-dark paint. “Stand there,” he said, and Patton did, shooting him a confused look. “Now face me.”

“Okay…”

Logan took a deep breath now that they were in position. “And with over 30 seconds to spare,” he breathed.

“I still have no idea what’s happening,” Patton pointed out.

“I know,” he replied. “I was supposed to have more than 30 seconds. I was going to walk you slowly through the park and buy you a flower from the vender down the street. I was going to distract you enough that you didn’t even notice the ropes blocking people from this spot, but life got in the way. I should have expected it with you being a doctor and me being me. We have busy lives, difficult lives that get in the way a lot of the time. And you said some things the last few days that worry me and we’re going to have to talk about it and where it came from, but I would like to talk about it. Actually, I insist you talk to someone about it even if it isn’t me. Because our lives are complicated and messy and neither of us are perfect in general or even for each other. But maybe that doesn’t matter because despite all of that, we still somehow made it here in time and I think that might mean something. Something really, really important.”

“Logan sweetie, whatever’s going on, it’s alright. You need to calm down.”

“This is traditionally not a calm sort of thing from what I understand. Anyway,” he said, looking at his watch. “It’s time.”

“What are-” At that moment, the fountain next to them started up, the little white lights that had already been lit on it shimmering like little stars in the moving water.

Logan went down on to his knees and pulled a ring out of his pocket.

“Oh my god.”

“Will you marry me?”

“I…” Patton said. “I thought you didn’t want to get married.”

“What gave you that impression?” he asked.

“You… I asked you to marry me and you didn’t say yes.”

“You did not ask me to marry you.”

Patton stared at him. “I said I wanted to marry you and you said to give you more time.”

He looked like a very confused puppy on his knees in front of Patton. “Yes, for the planning. We had discussed that you would want a dramatic proposal after you expressed a desire to be married.”

“Wha- When did that conversation happen?” Patton asked.

“Two years and 11 months ago in the park by the hospital when we saw a man perform a song to propose to a woman. I had said that those types of proposals made me uncomfortable and you asked me why as you believed they were romantic. I explained that the receiving party would likely feel pressured to say yes in front of a crowd and that such an act could be manipulative. You said we could compromise and that it would be alright if they’d already said they wanted to be married and the other person did it to make them feel loved and surprise them about the day and type of ring, but not the question. You said that would be your ideal proposal.”

“Logan that was our second date.”

“Yes.”

Patton sighed. “Oh honey, I love you. I think we really need to work on our communication skills, but I love you.”

“I would agree after the last few days,” Logan said. “I also love you very much.”

Patton looked down at him still on his knees… because he was proposing. Right. “Oh! And yes! Of course, yes!”

Logan smiled at him softly and Patton wanted to jump up and down, but he also wanted to cry a bit and maybe sorta wanted to throw up a little and not just from the entire tub of strawberry ice cream he’d eaten a couple of hours ago. But the thing he most wanted was what he could tell he was about to get. Logan put the ring on his finger (Patton made a note to actually look at the thing sometime later) and got to his feet before sweeping Patton up into a kiss.

Patton drew back from the kiss feeling lighter than he had in days though not nearly completely perfect. He looked around himself. “Oh, wow,” he gushed. “This is so pretty! You’re so pretty! I’m so pretty! I love this suit. Oh, can we take pictures somehow before we leave?”

Logan laughed at him softly. “I hired photographers of course,” he informed him, preening a little bit, “They doubtlessly got pictures of the proposal and the kiss. We can have them take more if you’d like.”

“Oh, those are going to be wonderful pictures with us in front of the fountain like this. This is the most perfect thing I could ever imagine. I love you so much.” He started to get a bit chocked up. Logan pulled him into a hug and gee, that was even better than the kiss had been, especially because they didn’t have to pull away to breathe for a hug. Logan never even tried to pull back even though Patton kept him wrapped up in his arms for far longer than most hugs ever went. He just pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rubbed his back until the ache in Patton’s chest eased enough for him to feel comfortable pulling back himself.

(And then Patton goes to therapy for 5 years and they both go to relationship counseling for 2 years as I have mentioned in Labels Shift. I do plan to eventually do at least a one-shot of Patton in therapy, but I wanted to end on a happier note.)

Want to read more? Here’s the Epilogue.

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 11

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

< Previous

Marinette struggled to contain tears when Alya stepped into her studio. Her friend just as equally struggled to contain her surprise.

“Hey, girl. Guess who’s here with your things? How’s it going?”

“Thanks, Alya.” Marinette gave her a smile. “Sorry for asking you to do this, but I really couldn’t come over to pick them up. Too much work had piled up already.”

“Wait.” Alya looked around the huge studio filled with clothes and sewing accessories. “Where’s your team? Don’t tell me you let them go to lunch while staying behind to work yourself?”

Marinette quirked an eyebrow. “Alya, what team?”

“You know, assistants, seamstresses… other people to help you create your masterpieces. All designers have a team, don’t they? You used to tell me stories of your coworkers all the time. Where are they?”

Marinette shook her head. It was scary how far apart they’d grown over the last few months; her best friend didn’t even know the real mess Marinette was in. “That was from the time when I was working in men’s apparel. Now, I’m leading an experimental women’s line. Alone.”

Alya’s eyes bulged. “What do you mean, alone? Don’t tell me you’re designing and sewing the outfits all by yourself?”

Marinette nodded.

“What about your assistant? I know for sure you had at least one. I spoke to her when you gave me the silent treatment.”

“She quit.”

“This is insane.” Alya walked closer, setting down the bags full of Marinette’s belongings by the door. “I thought Gabriel could afford to hire more people. If men’s apparel has a team, why can’t you have one?”

Marinette put the garment she’d been working on down. “M Agreste wanted me to experience starting everything from scratch. He said I’d be able to understand the industry more and thus have a better chance of success.”

“By making you do everything yourself? A whole line? How many outfits is that?”

“Twenty-five outfits, meaning over fifty pieces of clothing and around thirty accessories, not counting shoes.”

“Holy shit!” Alya’s eyes widened. “How did he think you’d be able to manage that in a few months alone?”

Marinette sighed. “He gave me a budget and a studio. I had to keep him up to date with the designs, but everything else was up to me. If I wanted to hire help, I could. However”— Marinette looked away—“the budget was big enough for either investing in quality fabrics and accessories or for hiring help and settling for cheap materials. Not both.”

“Freaking—”

“But!” Marinette proudly grinned. “I managed to get both. I spent the money M Agreste gave me on quality materials and got an assistant myself.”

Alya stared at her in shock. “How?”

“I spoke with a few people in the HR and finance department. They hired me an assistant and paid her a portion of my salary.”

Alya swore under her breath, dropping into a chair. She closed her eyes for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Marinette let out a huff. “I would’ve, but you didn’t give me a chance. You were too busy constantly patronizing my every life choice and work ethic.”

Alya flinched, pressing her lips into a thin line.

Marinette held her breath. “I’m sorry, Als. I didn’t mean to. We made up and promised—"

“Stop.” Alya raised her hand. Without any more words, she stood up and walked to Marinette. Wrapping her into a hug, Alya whispered, “You’re right, girl. I’m sorry. I should’ve been a better friend to you instead of making it even harder.”

“I’m sorry too,” Marinette responded quietly, returning Alya’s hug. “I did put my work before our friendship. I’d be pissed at me as well if I were you.”

“Then promise me something.” Alya pulled back. “No more secrets. If you need help and can’t be a good friend at the moment, I want you to tell me. Okay?”

A smile tugged at Marinette’s lips as she nodded. “Deal. Apart from the identity of my new landlord, no more secrets.”

“Dang it,” Alya dramatically groaned, stepping away. “You see right through me.”

“I just know you too well, Als.” Marinette chuckled. “It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t try to sniff out the information you want.”

“Well, too bad for him you won’t divulge,” Alya said. “I just wanted to thank him for helping you. That’s all.”

“I’ll make sure to pass him your gratitude.”

“Fine,” Alya fake-grumbled. “Now though, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I, being the best friend in the world that I am who feels extremely guilty for failing you, will call my work and let them know I’m suddenly feeling sick and won’t be coming back today.”

Marinette frowned. “Why would you do that?”

“To help you, of course. Don’t you think I noticed you hiding your tears when I came in? And it’s not likely anything important would go down on a Wednesday evening, so I’d be better off here doing whatever little I can to help you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But you’d appreciate it, right?”

Marinette nodded. “At this point, I’d appreciate anything.”

“Then I better get to that call. Be right back, M. Don’t finish everything without me.”

Marinette laughed. “I wish I could, Als. I wish I could.”  

Five minutes later, Alya returned, ready to jump in the work head-on. Not having the slightest idea of how everything worked, though, all Alya could do was to cut out details or do basic stitching or even simply pass Marinette the needed tools. Marinette still appreciated it. Her best friend’s presence alone was helping her focus and use her time as effectively as she could.

About half an hour before the curfew, Alya got visibly nervous. Fidgeting with her cellphone more than usual, she bit her lip as she spoke. “Hey, Marinette?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you… I mean what if what we thought… Like you know, what if we were… Ugh!” Alya groaned. “Never mind. It can wait.”

Marinette looked at her friend in confusion. This wasn’t the first time Alya had seemingly tried to say something before changing the topic today. The fact that she was still trying after dropping it more than once meant that it was something important.

“Okay, what is it?”

“What?” Alya played innocent. “What is what?”

“You want to say something but keep backing out.”

Alya nibbled on her lip again. “It’s nothing super important, and you’re way too busy for a distraction right now. I’ll tell you some other time.”

Marinette put the garment she was working on down and looked at Alya. “If it’s about your wedding dress, and if you’ll give me another chance, I’d love to design one for you.”

Alya’s eyes lit up. “You would?”

“Absolutely. I can’t let my best friend get married in an off-rack dress. Though, you’ll have to wait for after Fashion Week for me to actually sew it.”

“That’s fine. The wedding’s in October so you’ll have plenty of time, and with all the skills I’ve acquired today, I’m sure I’ll be able to help you.”

“Then, it’s settled.” Marinette grinned. “If I survive Fashion Week, we’re sewing your dress together.”

“Deal,” Alya said excitedly, her expression turning serious just a moment later. “But that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Marinette glanced her way, getting back to her work. “Just say it then.”

“It’s about Adrien.”

Marinette stilled, her hand freezing over the fabric. “What about him?” she whispered, her eyes focused on her work.

Alya put her work down and came to stand beside Marinette. “I know you don’t like to talk about him, and I’m sorry to bring this up, but there is something you need to know,” Alya said, her voice quiet. “Especially because he’s currently your new boss.”

Marinette put her needle down, shifting her eyes to the side. “That doesn’t really matter. I hardly see him here, so—”

“He didn’t write that message,” Alya interrupted. “Most likely it was Chloe.”

Marinette frowned. “What—you mean that message?”

“Yes. Nino met with him over the weekend. Adrien didn’t even know that message existed. He thought we just kicked him out of the chat room without warning. He said it was most likely Chloe. She had access to his cellphone on a few occasions.”

Marinette watched Alya for a few moments before turning away with a huff. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they planned that whole thing together. She was his friend.”

Alya sighed. “Marinette, you can’t seriously think Adrien and Chloe are the same. You knew him better than that.”

“You tell me what to think then because, as I see it, he was so disgusted by my confession he decided to ruin my dream.”

“Marinette.” Alya reached out and placed her hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “You know as well as I do that that’s not true. Yes, Adrien didn’t return your feelings, but he loved you a lot as his friend. He adored you and would’ve never hurt you on purpose. I know you know that deep down in your heart.”

Marinette fell quiet. She used to believe that. Back then, no matter how angry with Adrien she’d been initially, deep down, Marinette had always felt that whatever that was, Adrien’s actions weren’t a petty response to her confession. That message, however, had changed everything. It killed all hope she had in him and their friendship. It hurt more than Marinette would ever admit, and even now, years later, she had trouble even thinking of forgiving him for what he wrote in it. How was she supposed to deal with the fact that Adrien might not be the author?

“So what?” Marinette frowned, turning away. “He still stole my file…”

“To protect you,” Alya gently nudged Marinette to look at her. “Marinette, please. Can you honestly tell me now, having gone through all that you’ve gone through, that you can’t see why Adrien didn’t want you here? Can you deny that he had good intentions behind his admittedly wrong actions?”

Marinette stilled, her chest heavy. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it over the years. Working at Gabriel was hard. Not a lot of people stuck around, and those who did prioritized work over everything else in their lives.

Including her.

Her friendships? Ruined. Love life? Non-existent. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d visited her parents. But she still persisted because quitting would mean failure, and for everything she was, Marinette wasn’t a failure. Chat Noir had always told her that. He said it to Ladybug, but that didn’t matter. They were the same person.

She turned away. “If Adrien was so concerned about it, he should’ve talked to me instead of going behind my back.”

“And he realizes that now, but Marinette, knowing yourself, tell me, if he’d gone to you while you were heartbroken by his rejection, would you have listened?”

Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line, snapping her eyes to glare at Alya. “Why does it matter now? Why would you bring it up after all these years? Weren’t you just as mad at him as I was only a week ago? What is it to you, Alya? Why are you defending him all of a sudden?”

“Because I found out the truth, and I think that even despite all the wrong he’s done, Adrien deserves for you to know it. And like it or not, your paths have crossed again. So humour me, but I thought if you could understand his motives and intentions no matter how wrong his actions were, maybe, just maybe, it’d be easier for you to get along with your boss. Then, maybe he’d help you out with your situation if he could find it in him to still care after the way we treated him.”

“The truth? Why are you so sure this is the truth? What if he lied? Why is Nino even speaking to him again?”

Alya shifted her eyes to the side. “You were ignoring me for days. Your parents couldn’t tell me much other than that you were alive. I was worried sick, and it was in the news that Adrien’s back at Gabriel, so Nino reached out to him, and they met and…”

“Oh! So the golden boy tells Nino a sad tale, and you believe him?”

“Nino knows Adrien. They’d been best friends for years before that whole mess erupted. He could tell from Adrien’s reaction alone that he never knew that email existed, much less wrote it. And we didn’t need Adrien’s explanation to understand why he tried to keep you away from Gabriel.”

“Alya—”

“Marinette,” Alya interrupted, taking Marinette by the shoulders and looking her straight in the eyes. “I love you, girl. You know I do. I am not saying you should forgive him. Adrien deserves for you to be mad at him. What I am saying is you should give him the benefit of the doubt and try to understand. What Adrien did was wrong. He should never have done anything behind your back and he admits it himself. He could’ve and should’ve gone about it a different way. Something that included you in it. He didn’t, but I think he’s paid enough for that.”

“Oh, and I didn’t?”

Alya pulled Marinette into a hug, pressing her closer. “Of course you did, M. You’ve suffered more than any of us and you deserve for your life to finally get better. And now he’s your boss, and he could help you if he wanted, but he’s hurt as well.”

“So, what, now I’m supposed to apologize to him?”

“Gosh, Marinette. No. I’m not pressuring you into anything. I just thought both of you deserved to know what really went down. Adrien didn’t do all the things we thought he did, and what he had done, he did only because he cared for you too much to think straight.” She pulled away and brushed Marinette’s bangs away. “Just think about it, okay?”

Marinette’s phone alarm chimed before she could respond. She perked. “We have to go. Help me gather my things.”

Alya frowned. “What’s going on?”

Marinette groaned. “Your saint Adrien enforced a curfew for us: to be out of the building by eight or take a day off the next day, and you know how I get, I don’t pay attention to the time when I’m working. So, I set an alarm for myself. Take the bags you brought, I’ll carry this.” She stashed a few of her projects inside a duffel bag. “Let’s go.”

They rushed down the hall and took the elevators down. The guards saluted Marinette as she approached them.

“Ten seconds to spare,” one of them chuckled. “You’re sure a fan of toeing the line, Marinette.”

“Yeah, Danger is my middle name,” Marinette deadpanned. “See you tomorrow, guys.”

“Have a good evening,” the guards called after them.

“You know, I kind of like this curfew thing,” Alya said as they exited the building. “We would’ve saved ourselves a lot of arguments if you had it before.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate being babied, but that’s a discussion for another day,” Marinette said, taking the bags from Alya’s hands.

She had only an hour to get home and cook a meal for Chat Noir. Thankfully his apartment wasn’t too far away, and hopefully, the meat had already defrosted in the fridge. But she couldn’t tell Alya that.

“Sorry, I have to go now. I take work home because of this curfew, so I’d better get to it. Thank you for helping me today.”

“I didn’t do much.” Alya shrugged. “I’ll see if I can take a few days off over the next few weeks, so I can drop by and help you some more.”

“Thank you.” Marinette smiled. “But I was told today by a friend in HR that Adrien actually is looking for an assistant for me. So, if that happens, I should be fine. Unless it’s a novice. Then I’ll be begging you to come back. At least you’re entertaining.”

“Thank you,” Alya chuckled and winked. “Glad to know my work in entertainment came in handy. And see? He’s helping. Maybe he’s trying to apologize?”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” Marinette sighed. “I really need to go.”

“Alright. See you soon, girl.” Alya leaned in to give Marinette a farewell cheek kiss. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will,” Marinette returned the kiss and, taking her bags, rushed to the metro.

***

Hurrying to finish their dinner, Marinette couldn’t even glance at Chat Noir as he knocked and entered through the balcony door.

“Evening, Marinette,” he greeted with a voice a bit more somber than usual.

“You sound exhausted,” she commented, turning his way. “Long day?”

“Yeah,” Chat murmured and walked into the kitchen. “But I bet it’s about to get much better because whatever you’re cooking smells delicious.”

“It’s Cassoulet, and it’ll take a few more minutes,” Marinette said, adding white beans and baby carrots to the pot. “Sorry, I got held up at work and missed my usual metro train. The next one was delayed a few minutes and it all kind of snowballed from there.”

He came to stand by her side. “Got held up as in you broke the curfew?”

Marinette huffed. “Stupid curfew, but no, I didn’t break it. Made it out with ten seconds to spare.”

“Like living on the edge, don’t you?”

“Can’t help it,” Marinette sighed, tasting the dish. “I have too much work and too much at stake. And I know I keep saying I’m behind, but it’s getting critical.”

Chat fell quiet for a moment before asking. “How far behind are you?”

“Enough to start seriously panicking if I don’t have permanent help by the end of the week,” Marinette said, as she cut sausages and removed bay leaves from the pot. “I’ve been told my boss is trying to find someone for me, but I honestly don’t expect much. People are quitting, not coming in. My friend promised to take a few days off to help me, but with all of her good intentions, she’s useful only for basic tasks.”

“And you’re taking work home—”

“Won’t help much unless I don’t sleep at all.” Marinette sighed, taking the dishes out of the cupboard.

“Finding another job isn’t an option?” Chat asked, starting to set the table.

“Not unless I want to start from scratch, meaning going back to school to finish my degree. Although, Alya did mention something about the possibility of getting my diploma at ESMOD by using my experience at Gabriel. Don’t know how viable that is, but the option might be there.”

“At least that’s something,” Chat said, taking the bowls full of delicious-looking food and bringing them to the table. “Should we indulge now and forget about our problems for a while?”

Something in his voice cracked, and taking a good look at Chat, Marinette’s heart tripped. Even with the mask on and him acting more or less normal, it was obvious Chat was physically exhausted and emotionally distressed. The usually smug curve of his lips sagged. His eyes, though still brilliantly green, looked tired and would look anywhere but at her. His body slackened as he picked up his spoon and, without his childlike excitement nor waiting for her, started to eat. That had never happened before.

“Chat?” Marinette whispered. “What’s wrong?”

He blinked a few times before trying to grin. “Nothing.”

“You aren’t fooling anyone, Chat,” Marinette sat on a chair beside him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He turned back to stare at his bowl, his shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, Marinette. Even if I wanted to, I can’t. Secret identity stuff.”

“Alright,” Marinette said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Is there anyone you can talk to? Close friends? Family? Ladybug?”

He flinched before giving her another fake smile. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just some family drama, but it’ll pass. I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. Thank you for asking, though. It means a lot. And this—” he pointed to the meal in front of him, “—this is the best remedy for me right now.”

She gave him a worried smile. “Then we shouldn’t delay any longer. Itadakimasu?”

This time, the smile on his face reached his eyes as he repeated, “Itadakimasu.”

That evening, for the first time in a long while, Marinette caught herself feeling more concerned about someone else’s well-being than her own problems. Chat Noir tried to act as normal as possible, yet the sadness behind his easy-going demeanour was hard to miss. He was in pain, barely holding it together, and he tried to cover it, failing miserably in the process. So, when the dinner was over, the kitchen was cleaned and the leftovers split between the two of them, Marinette did something she could scarcely afford: she asked Chat Noir if he was willing to stay a little longer.

“If you think I’ll be very useful, I must disappoint you, Princess,” Chat commented, watching Marinette pull the work she brought with her out of her bag. “This cat may have great style and know his way around fashion, but sew, he absolutely cannot. Especially not in a costume with claws.”

“I just assumed you would rather keep me company than go back to whatever problems you have at home,” Marinette replied. “But if I’m wrong, then, by all means, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chat paused for a moment, thinking. Then he walked back into the room. “I still can be useful, you know. Tell me what to do, and I’ll adapt.”

She gave him a look. “Chat, seriously. I just thought you could use the company tonight. I wasn’t going to put you to work.”

“And I appreciate the thought. Let me repay you by helping. You do need help, don’t you? And helping you would help me. It’ll take my mind off things I’d rather forget right now. So, let’s skip the niceties and get to it.”

“Alright.” She sighed. “Can you stitch?”

“Not even if my life depended on it,” he said with a straight face. “Sorry, I have a complicated relationship with fashion and clothes-making.”

“What if I show you? You can do the preliminary stitches and I’ll go over them with a machine tomorrow at work?”

Chat plopped on a sofa, crossing his legs. “I’m all yours. Use me any way you want.”

Marinette’s cheeks warmed at the suggestive wording, yet a completely oblivious Chat was already reaching for the pile of materials she had on her coffee table.

“So which one of these unfortunate garments will you entrust into my claws?”

She pushed the thought aside. This was neither the place nor the time, and she was not in her Ladybug disguise. Picking out two pre-cut pieces of fabric that needed to be stitched together, she put them into Chat’s lap. “You should be able to manage this one. It’s a straight, simple stitch just to hold it in place for now. Let me get you what you’ll need and show you how it’s done.”

Ten minutes later, Chat braved to poke a needle through the fabric himself, looking very proud of his first couple of stitches that, to his absolute delight, Marinette judged to be quite decent for his first time. It all came crashing down when he discovered that he had accidentally stitched together three layers of fabric instead of two. Marinette couldn’t even be angry at him with how childlike and dramatic his sorrow was. Laughing her heart out, she passed him a seam ripper and assured him she wasn’t mad.

His tongue stuck out, Chat Noir undid his seam and started anew. By around midnight, looking very proud, he’d managed to complete the task she’d entrusted to him. Not much of a help, but Marinette appreciated the effort. Seeing him relax and have that goofy smile surface again as he conquered the art of sewing was more than enough to make it all worthwhile.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to just snap your fingers and learn a new skill just like that?” Chat murmured, laying on her sofa, staring at the ceiling. “You know, like magic? Cause let me tell you, if not for this suit, I’m sure I would’ve bled to death from all the times I poked my fingers with that cursed needle.”

Marinette giggled, concentrating on her own task. “You know, sometimes I wish I could be Hawkmoth,” she said without much thinking. “I’d akumatize myself an army of seamstresses and would be done with this line in no time.”

“That’d be nice.” Chat chuckled, sitting up. “Alas, you aren’t and all you’ve got for now is me. Have anything else I can stitch together?”

“Maybe this one,” Marinette passed him another garment. “Stitch along the red line.”

“Your wish is my command,” Chat said, twisting the fabric in his hands. A couple of hours later, he’d finished that as well, at a much quicker pace than before.

“You’re learning fast,” Marinette noted.

“I have a good teacher,” he grinned with his eyes half-lidded as he struggled to stay awake. “But I think we should call it a night. Things are starting to blur even with my cat vision. How you’re still working is beyond me.”

“Habit.” Marinette shrugged, glancing at the clock. Two in the morning. Maybe they should get a little rest. She put her work away and stood up. “Thank you for helping me, Chat. I’ll get you your lunch.”

“My purr-leasure.” He looked around the room. “You aren’t going to continue working, are you? You need to rest.”

“I won’t. Don’t worry. I’ll go to bed as soon as I put everything away.”

“Promise?”

She smiled. “Promise. Thank you again, Chat”

He grinned and took the box with food from her hands. Leaning forward, Chat placed a tender kiss on her cheek. “Any time, Princess. I’ll see you later.”

With that he was gone, leaving Marinette standing in the middle of the room, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest. Somehow, she was convinced he didn’t even pay attention to the effect he had on her.

Next >

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Lost Memories Part 11

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader 

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Nope. None

Author’s Note:  Excuse me while I cry for a moment. This is the last part to this one and I don’t know how to feel about it. Its probably why it has taken me so long to get this one done. I just wanted to hold off a little longer. With that being said, I hope that you guys have enjoyed this one! Thank you guys for reading, for commenting, for reblogging this series. It means so much to me! Maybe one day I’ll come back and add on to this one. We’ll see.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

5 years later. 

After an evening of party goers leaving the bar in the early morning hours, Y/N began her usual tasks of getting the bar back to its original state before it opened for the next night. Her job was easier being a vampire. She learned that such a mundane thing made for the best distractions. 

Y/N left New Orleans just as Elijah asked her to do. Her heart hurt to do it, but she understood Elijah’s pain as well. If things had been under different circumstances, things might have been better. But between her being on the run from Lex and Klaus sending her away, things became complicated. Things had changed in a way that Y/N knew that things would never be fixed as it used to be. 

So she left and didn’t look back. She found herself in California when she finally stopped driving. That’s where she decided that she would make her new home. In the process of doing so, she found a property she wanted and turned it into a successful business over the last few years. 

Katherine and Victoria came and visited often. When they had, it was just like old times. They partied with the other patrons and spent the night discussing how much things had changed since they last came together. 

“You know he misses you, right?” Victoria would tell her every time. 

It never failed that the words had brought some hope to Y/N. But every time they did, she was reminded of the hurt she had put Elijah through. “He told me to leave, so I did. I think that ship has sailed.” The conversation of Elijah would stop after that. 

Even now as she turned the chairs over onto the tables, that flame of hope had still been lit. She hoped with time things would get better. That maybe in a handful of years, she and Elijah might be able to have a conversation that would make them okay again. 

She wanted Elijah to have his space that he needed. If she was being honest with herself, she wished there was some spell that could make her travel back in time and fix things before it got this bad. But even if there was, the changes made probably wouldn’t have gotten to where she was right now. 

As she flipped another chair over, she heard the front door open and close. Sighing, she shook her head. “We’re closed.” She said as she moved to pick up another chair. “Last call was about two hours ago.”

“Would you make an exception for someone you know?”

Placing the chair on the table, she turned quickly at the voice. In the last five years, she hadn’t once heard his voice. Somehow, even through the hurt, Y/N’s heart picked up at seeing Elijah standing there by the entrance of the bar. 

“Elijah.” She said softly, never making a move towards him. She wasn’t sure if this was real. No matter how many times she had wanted this moment to happen, she couldn’t believe her eyes in that moment. “What are you doing here?”

“Believe it or not, my family and I are just a few miles up the road, enjoying a vacation.” He said as he took a step closer to her. His eyes wandered around the bar, taking in the details that Y/N had decorated the place with. “I heard there was a bar that could make anyone believe they were in New Orleans. You’ve obviously accomplished that.”

“Couldn’t go to New Orleans, so I brought it here.” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Makes me feel at home.” The bar had done just that. It gave her the comfort she needed to stay put. A home away from home. “If you were really here for the bar, you wouldn’t have come after closing.”

“Would you believe me if I said I was hoping to speak with you?” His voice was soft. Y/N could hear it in his voice that this must have been hard for him to do. She didn’t blame him. 

“About what?” She asked as she began walking towards the bar. She had to bite her tongue because part of her wanted to say that she believed he had said everything he needed to. But he hadn’t done anything wrong. She had. 

Elijah watched as she walked around to the other side of the bar and pulled two glasses off the shelf and grabbed a bottle of bourbon from the top shelf. He walked over to the bar and pulled one of the stools down and took a seat in front of her. 

“There were a lot of things left unsaid between us.” He said as he reached for the glass Y/N had poured for him. “I wanted to apologize for-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong Elijah.” Y/N said cutting him off. “I hurt you and put your family in danger. You asked me to leave and that was right on your part. I should be the one apologizing for everything I’ve done to get us here.”

“It wasn’t just on you.” He took a sip of the bourbon and placed the glass back on the bar. “There were several factors that made you do as you had. I should have been understanding, but I let the feeling of betrayal get the best of me.”

Y/N looked down at the glass before her. Her hand had been wrapped around it, but she made no move to take a drink from it. “I would have told you eventually. Maybe not when we fought, or when things were getting crazy, but at that time, it wasn’t my place to tell you.”

“After you had left, I spoke with my brother.” He said as he watched her gaze leave the cup and back up to him. “He mentioned that you fought him on an occasion or two about telling me. One of those times had been a day or two before James made his move. Not only had you been the key to James’ plan, Klaus used your argument with him to give him the push he needed to send you away.”

Y/N listened to his words and while she had only gotten her memories back five years ago, the details had become clouded to her. But that conversation she had with Klaus was clear as day. 

“I cant keep lying to him, Klaus.” Y/N said as she walked into Klaus’ study. 

“I don’t have time for this.” Klaus said as he moved to leave the room. 

Y/N moved to stand in front of him. “Make time. Because this deal can’t stand between us anymore.”

“If you go to my brother, I’ll make sure that you won’t have a heartbeat.” Klaus threatened as his eyes narrowed. “Plus you aren’t lying, you are simply omitting information.”

“If you trusted me enough to help stop them from coming after Hope, why won’t you trust me to tell Elijah?” Y/N asked frustrated. 

“Because it is with me you hold this deal.” Klaus reminded her. “I am the one that holds that information over your head. Yes, you may have saved Hope for now. But I know there will be a day that you’ll need to keep good on your promise.” Klaus pushed passed her after that. 

Y/N turned around and faced him. “I’m telling him the first chance I get.”

Klaus stopped mid step for a moment before continuing. “Your funeral.”

“The next day Alyssa had been murdered.” Y/N corrected. “I never got a chance alone with you to tell you. You had gotten home late the night before and you were gone when I woke. After that, Rebekah pulled me into a shopping spree. Of course you know what happened after that. After I got my memories back, I knew that I never got that chance. And when Lex threw that information at you, I knew you’d be angry with me. I just didn’t think you would want me to leave.” A sad chuckle passed her lips. 

“While I was angry, I almost expected you to fight to stay.” There was hurt in his words that Y/N hadn’t missed. “It was Victoria that told me you’d left. I thought maybe you hadn’t cared enough.”

Y/N placed her free hand on top of his. “I always cared.” She said with a slight nod of her head. “ I cared from the moment I bumped into you at Alice’s, to meeting you for the second time when I didn’t have my memory. You had an impact on me in a way that was completely unexpected. But when you asked me to leave, the anger and the hurt that was in your voice hurt me to hear it and I knew I didn’t deserve to stay.”

“I am sure you and I would have felt the same way if the roles were reversed.” He turned his hand over and took her hand in his. “When you were forced to leave, I thought I wouldn’t survive that. You and I had become so intertwined for those ten years. And for a brief moment I had you back and I remember thinking I wasn’t going to let you leave my sight. When I pushed you away, I believed I’d be alright. That I had done this before and I survived. But I couldn’t.”

That flame of hope that had been within Y/N had grown and she hoped that they’d be able to fix this. That once everything was out in the open that they would be able to get past this. She bit down on her lip for a moment before sighing.

“Why don’t we start over?” She asked. She watched as his eyebrow raised. She smiled and shook her head. “If you want. I know forgetting everything isn’t an option. But just as you said, we have this connection that is hard to ignore. Maybe the third time will be the charm?”

Elijah laughed at that. It was the first time she heard him laugh in decades. It was a sound she didn’t think she would ever hear again. “And I suppose we should reintroduce ourselves and tell each other our life secrets?”

It was Y/N’s turn to laugh. “I wouldn’t say go to that extreme. Start over in regards to there not being any lies between us. Tonight we’ll clean out our closets and go from there.”

“That is centuries worth of skeletons that will need to be cleaned out between the two of us.” He noted. 

“I’ve got nothing but time.” She said with a smile. “Plus there is a fully stocked bar behind me just in case we need that.”

Elijah thought about it for a moment before he nodded. “To a night of really getting to know each other.” He stopped for a moment, a twitch of a smile pulling at his lips before he placed his hand out in front of him. “I’m Elijah Mikaelson.”

Y/N’s eyebrow raised as she took in what he had done. Shaking her head, she took his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elijah.” She said with a smile. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

It was as they began talking about their past, it was the first time that both of them really got to know each other. There was no compulsion, no deals made between siblings or even friends. It was something the two of them needed from the beginning but never got a chance to. And as the night carried on, they were realizing that just like the first time, they wouldn’t be leaving the other anytime soon.

Always & Forever Tag: @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @alka16555 @yaniiie

Lost Memories Tag: @jenniferpendragon @captainshurley @spookske1999 @anything-ispossiblenow @therealwatermelon @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @andrea25434 @cumberbabe92 @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit @vampiregirl1797 @crushingbigtime @the-loveliest-lies-of-all @xxbeckybeexx-blog @twigstar18 @winchestert101 @the-missunder-stood

Stag Tag:   @elejah-wonderland @cheers-my-dears-16 @xxsovereignsarayaxx @asiaaisa77 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff

The Originals Tag: @zillahvathek @obsessedwithvampires @alien-sida

Thank you sooo much for reading! For those of you on the lost Memories tags, if you’d like to be moved to another list, please let me know. ♥