#so whatever if she spends ten years in there hating her life I guess she deserves it! idc

[robthegoodfellow]

I'm rereading Sideways and listen; I would kill to know what Slick said to Steve when he went up to the bar on his own.

This got WAY more brewing in my head than expected, so here! Have some Sam/Auntie Slick POV. One day I will commission art of my beloved butch.

🍺

The Harrington kid got up to use the gents and Sam, stacking glasses, let out a snort. Blondie hated to see him go, but sure did love to watch him leave. 

Her not-really-nephew was beelining for the booth, having snagged cans of pop from the minifridge—shameless freeloader.

She kept an eye on them as she poured Phil another—his last pint of the night if she didn’t want to catch an earful from his missus—and saw Blondie crane around like a man hunted, a wary cast at the bar. Smirking, she closed out the tab. Least he knows to tread careful.

When Harrington, Jr., strode up, plunked himself on a stool, she was honestly intrigued. Her last run-in with the family who owned half the town had been a few years back, when they’d made a play for the Hideout—for that whole block of storefronts—but Sam owned the building and the land, refused to sell.

For a couple different reasons, most important being that sitting her ass on a cushy mound of cash would spell disaster for her sobriety—she knew enough about herself to know that for certain—and the most sentimental being that the Hideout had been in the family for generations. Her daddy would rise from the dead and give her the kind of ghostly tongue-lashing that left you a gibbering mess in the corner, and she’d deserve it, selling out like that.

The Harringtons weren’t the type to take no for an answer, though—turned some screws to make her roll, made business a nightmare—but instead of showing her belly, she’d gone to Hop and they’d backed off.

“What’s their endgame?” she wondered, when he’d come by for a drink and a debrief. “They just gobbling up whatever can make them an easy buck, or—?”

Hop raised brows loaded with meaning, peering into his amber ale. 

“They’re shady,” she deduced.

He wouldn’t say—not until he went bottoms up, smacked his lips. “All I know is there’s a reason they spend so little time at home.”

“What about their kid?” she asked, wiping up with a rag. “What’s his name—Stuart? Isn’t he still in grade school?”

“It’s Steve,” Hop corrected, waved a dismissive hand as he donned his hat. “Freshman. Think he’s probably better off not seeing them much.”

“So it’s good I didn’t sell,” Sam stated, and Hop nodded.

“Anything that throws a wrench in their way.”

And now, here he was, in the flesh: Steve Harrington, heir to the Harrington fortune, lone occupant of the country estate.

In the flesh in what was definitely Blondie’s leather jacket. How cute.

“Ah—hi, there,” said Steve, quirking a hopeful smile.

Sam gave him the same flat stare she’d gifted his boy. Just to see what happened.

Nothing. Nothing is what happened, except the corner of his mouth twitched, suppressing some private amusement. He cleared his throat, hands clasped like a salesman about to offer a real bargain. “I heard you have a one beer policy for certain customers.”

She flicked a glance over his shoulder, where Blondie and Wayward Edward were hunched, in cahoots. 

“Where’s he from? Mr. California.”

Steve blinked. “Ah—California?” Dramatic shrug when she cut him a look she’d developed that was essentially an eye roll without the eye roll. “I met him literally a couple days ago. Your guess is as good as mine.”

Her guess was significantly better than his. “SoCal,” she decided. “I’d bet on it.”

“How much?” His grin held a mild challenge, and Sam decided she liked this kid. Somehow. 

“Ten.”

“You’re on,” he said, holding out his hand. They shook.

As she drew him the same beer as Blondie, she found herself suddenly torn between opposing instincts: one, to mind her damn business and not say another word; or two, butt into this kid’s life the same way she had the last kid. California kid.

Didn’t know why she was leaning toward the second. Other than Eddie and his little troupe, Sam had very happily remained uninvolved and uninvested in the existence of young people. So what was itching at her to sit these idiots down and firmly tell them what was what? Hell, she’d already given one of them a portion of the birds and the bees speech she’d bumbled through years ago with the not-really-nephew.

Wayne still owed her for that, come to think of it. But if he weren’t up to it, who would?

Maybe that was it. Who else was gonna tell these baby gays how to safely cross the street? Certainly not their folks, not their teachers. All they had was poor schmucks who had been baby gays themselves—who could pass on the fruits of their trial and error so maybe the newbies could err on the side of caution.

“You thought through what’ll happen if it gets out?” she asked, neutral undertone, sliding him the glass. “What you two are doing?”

He went completely still, staring, and Sam creaked her rusty gears enough to approximate a face that read chill out, you’re fine. 

Finally, Steve shrugged, far less dramatic. “I got some money they can’t touch—once I’m twenty-one. Dead grandparents.”

So—safe even if he were disowned.

“We’re in Indiana,” she reminded him. “There’s a lot worse that can happen than losing your piggy bank.”

Steve huffed, so cynical it could cut stone. “Oh, I know. I know.”

This kid kept surprising her left and right. She squinted, took in the flinty steel of his gaze, the set mouth that hinted at a past requiring far more of a stiff upper lip than you’d expect from a pampered prince.

“You do.” She made a fist, tapped it on worn wood sticky from a spill. “Then watch out for each other, huh?” Jerked her chin at the far booth—now git. “Enjoy the beer.”

Steve marched off with his spoils. 

Slid in next to Blondie until their arms were flush.

[yellowkitkieran]

What the Heart Wants: Part 5

Read part 4 here

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Kieran is your best friend’s older brother. Your best friend’s fit older brother that you definitely haven’t had a crush on for years. Not at all. And he certainly doesn’t like you back, that would be absurd...

Under normal circumstances, training days before matches are Kieran's favorite. There is a certain buzz in the air that is impossible to replicate by artificial means. Everyone chats while they work, helping each other identify weak points in the opposite team to exploit. He and his teammates work ten times harder as well, confident in their abilities. 

Today though? Kieran would rather be just about anywhere else on the planet. He'd rather be knee deep in a pit of sticky, hot tar than have to deal with the man who's been glued to his side since he walked in the door, bombarding him with questions about you. 

"Why do you call her Bug?"

Though Aaron's question is innocent, it grates on Kieran's nerves.

"Because she hates bugs," he answers sharply, focusing on the weight he's benching instead of his mate spotting him with a wistful, far off look in his eye. 

"End of?" 

"Yeah." Not really. But yes, as far as Aaron needs to know. Kieran came up with the nickname because you were always smaller than him growing up, and considering how small he was, that was a significant difference. The fact that you hated the nickname at first only made Kieran more determined to ensure it stuck, because your nose always scrunched up and he liked that.

Even ages ago, Kieran should've recognized the crush he had on you.

Now, he's screwed himself because you're in love with Aaron or whatever. Kieran lost his chance. Hell, he's not sure you even consider him a friend anymore- after the interaction he had with you last night, he'd guess not. 

"She's coming to the match this weekend," Aaron states, like Kieran wants to know every detail of your life. In truth he couldn't care less how you spend your time. "And she's staying at mine which means I'll get all the good luck wishes I could ever need." 

Aaron laughs, jostling Kieran's shoulder when he sits up. His laugh quickly fizzles out when he notices the tension in Kieran's jaw. 

"I'm joking mate, I know you see her like a little sister-"

"I don't care what you two do," Kieran snaps, immediately regretting it when Aaron's face falls. "She's not my sister, she's her own person and she can make her own shite decisions." 

Aaron steps back, his posture rigid. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Kieran wipes his hands on his shorts. Is he really about to do this? Drive a wedge in his team, potentially lose another friend?

Fuck it. Yeah, he is.

"You know exactly what I mean, Ramsdale. I don't mince words- I say things plainly."

Aaron's lip curls, along with his fists. "Fuck you, Tierney. Honestly fuck off-"

"I will, don't worry." Kieran stands, turning his back on Aaron and putting as much distance between them as humanly possible. The weights room is stuffy, the air stinking of sweat and filled with hard music from someone's shitty playlist. 

Actually, everything is shitty. If Kieran needed to pick one word to describe his general mood, it would be gray. Without your friendship and now without the only other person he'd truly think of as a friend, Kieran already feels lost.

Popping in his ear buds, Kieran hops on a treadmill and cranks up the speed. He blasts right past jogging, running, straight into a full sprint, pushing himself so hard and fast that his limbs scream for him to slow. He doesn't listen- because if he runs fast enough, maybe he can outrun the voice in his head whispering that he's failed, there's no returning from this, he'll be alone forever.

Maybe he deserves that. After all the damage he's done, Kieran probably should be alone for the rest of his life- no friends, no significant other, just football for company. At least he has that, as bittersweet of a victory as that may be. 

**********

Kieran can't help it. Every few seconds during warm-ups, his eyes lift to the stands behind the home bench to search for you. Normally you're early on matchday. 

Not today though- you don't show up until minutes before kick off, quietly taking your seat. Kieran straightens as your eyes wander to the pitch, though his efforts are wasted. You skirt right over him, your gaze landing on Aaron, a bright smile splitting your face as you wave. 

And for Kieran, what do you offer him? Nothing. Not even a crumb. Once Aaron's attention shifts to focus on securing his gloves, your own attention falls to the phone in your lap. It's as if Kieran no longer exists in your world. Although, can he really blame you for acting that way? He's been an arse at every available opportunity. Why would you want to be friendly towards him?

Unease settles in Kieran's gut. He stares at the pitch beneath his boots, trying to force the negativity out of his mind. Martin nudges him, and only then does Kieran realize the anthem has ended and he needs to haul ass across the pitch to get to his position. 

Normally, football makes everything else fade into the background. The first touch of a ball at his feet, the first collective roar from the crowd, and Kieran usually feels the tension drain from his muscles. He becomes one with his team, anticipating passes and sliding through defenders like a hot knife through butter. 

Today is a different story. Kieran drops the first pass intended for him, resulting in Chelsea's winger picking off the ball and launching downfield with it. Kieran feels off balance, the world tipping under him as he gives chase, never quite catching up. He's saved by Arsenal's back line, though it doesn't prevent him from bearing the brunt of a verbal lashing from Aaron in goal when Chelsea's attack comes much too close for his liking. 

With his focus all over the board, Kieran struggles to keep himself tidy. Their opponents sense his weakness, sniffing him out like a predator seeks prey, targeting the left side with their presses. Eventually, they know Kieran will slip. And eventually, he does- literally. 

Something white hot lances up Kieran's left leg when he plants his foot and turns to try and cut off Pulisic on the attack. A wordless cry passes his lips as he goes down, grabbing at his knee. Over the roar of blood in his ears, Kieran can hear Christian arguing with the ref against a foul; Kieran hadn't been touched by anyone in a blue shirt. The mistake was purely his. 

The ref holds up a yellow card in Christian's direction. "No fuck off- that's bullshit and you know it!" 

"It's deserved!" Kieran isn't sure which one of his teammates shouts it, but it clearly makes Christian see red. Without a second glance at Kieran on the ground, Christian storms off towards what's sure to be a fight unless someone steps in, but Kieran can't bring himself to care. 

He lays there for what feels like ages, focusing on keeping his eyes squeezed shut so no tears can escape. He will not cry, not when you're there. He's fine. He's perfectly fine. He's gonna finish out this match, he'll score a goal and then you'll understand everything. 

"Kieran, you alright mate?" 

When Kieran dares to open his eyes, he can just barely make out his captain's blonde hair between the blinding lights above the pitch and the black spots in his vision. No, he's definitely not alright. Not in any sense of the word. 

"Medical," Kieran croaks, trying to catch his breath. Everything hurts. Even his shallow breaths somehow make his knee twinge; how is that even possible? Kieran is vaguely aware of Martin as he crouches at his side, waving the medical staff on to have a look at him. 

"Right, they're on their way. What happened? No one even touched you, did they?"

"No," Kieran bites out. Fuck, why does it hurt so bad? It's worse than the time he shattered his leg at Celtic, and that was the worst pain he thought he'd ever experience. "Just spun and felt something… snap."

When two men bundled up in Arsenal puffers arrive, they immediately prod his left knee, hitting all the right spots to have hisses of pain leaving his lips. 

"We're gonna take you off," one of them tells him, "can you walk? You can if you'd like to, though we'll have to help-"

"I'm walking," Kieran states plainly. He knows nothing is broken, at least, and he refuses to be carried off while you're in the stadium. 

"I've got him. Come on, Tierney." Martin stands, holding out a hand to Kieran to help him up. The Norwegian throws an arm around Kieran's waist, not allowing Kieran to walk on his own.

The fans clap as he gets to his feet. He tries to return the sentiment but thinks better of it, wincing as he puts weight on his injured knee. Oh, he's so screwed. This feels season ending. His knee is on fire through the mask of adrenaline, and he can imagine how much worse it will be when it's worn off in a few hours. 

"Keep your head up," Martin murmurs when he stops at the sideline. "They'll fix you up in no time."

Kieran offers his captain a tight lipped smile. He appreciates the false hope, even if it does land hollow in his chest. Trainers slip under either of his arms, taking the brunt of his weight for him as he slowly makes his way down the tunnel. The entire walk, Kieran doesn't take his eyes off the pitch. His team is playing as scrambled as his insides feel, like they can't link up at all after his unexpected substitution. 

As he passes the bench, Kieran doesn't dare look up, not even when he swears he can pick out your voice calling for him. He's failed, again. He was supposed to score a banger of a goal tonight, which would give him the confidence to finally tell you what he's felt for you for months, maybe even years of his life.

The universe is laughing at him, he knows it. How pathetic would it be if he told you now? You'd think he was some miserable prick looking for your pity. That's not what he wants at all. He wants you to understand that-

"Alright Kieran, hop up on that table for me mate."

Kieran blinks, trying to remember how he got to the medical suite with no memory of walking any further than Arsenal's bench. He moves with all the grace of a wooden puppet, joints already stiff and swollen. 

The lead physician, a no frills, fifty something year old man with salt and pepper hair and the beginnings of a pot belly, adjusts his glasses on his nose and sighs. "Well Kieran, you took quite the tumble."

"Yep, how screwed am I?" 

It feels informal to be meeting with a highly accredited doctor like Dr. Montgomery while he's dressed in an Arsenal tracksuit. Shouldn't he be in a long white coat instead of a black puffer?

Regardless, the doctor carefully runs his fingers over Kieran's knee with light pressure, making notes on where it's tender and what areas are safe to touch. Based on the overall mood in the room, Kieran doubts he'll get good news.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you." Dr. Montgomery takes his glasses off and sets them on the top of his head, rolling on his little stool to be closer with Kieran. "Based on the way you went down and the sort of pain you're having now, my initial assessment is a partial, if not full ACL tear."

Kieran's world slips out from under his feet. "A- what? You're sure?"

"Not yet obviously, we have to confirm it. But I'm quite confident-"

"No." Kieran shakes his head adamantly. "No, that's not right. We're supposed to win the league, I'm helping my team win the Premier League! It can't be torn-"

"Kieran, no dramatics please. You'll only make it harder on yourself. I know this is a big thing and a huge shock, but unfortunately, it may be your reality." Dr. Montgomery grips Kieran's shoulders, forcing him to take a deep breath. "You will likely need to accept it, and the sooner you do, the better it will be for your psyche and overall recovery." Dr. Montgomery pats Kieran's chest, right over his heart. 

"You're a valuable asset to this team. They're lucky to have you, and they'll need you back as soon as they can. Focus on that, on getting back and keeping your spirits up." 

"I'm damaged goods. I'm nothing to them now."

Dr. Montgomery shakes his head, understanding that Kieran needed time to process. "For now I'll get you something for the pain, and you can watch the rest of the match on my laptop while we drive you over to our proper medical office, alright? We need some scans to see just how bad the damage is."

Kieran floats above his body. He's present but he isn't, awake but asleep as he's driven across London for a set of scans and more poking and prodding. The meds keep the worst of the pain at bay, dulling the ragged edges until it's only a light throb. Each breath feels like he's inhaling shards of glass, knowing his season is over just as it peaked.

When he's finally dropped off at his flat, he checks his mobile. There's texts from a few of the boys, but he only responds to two, the first being Martin. 

We got an update from the gaffer, he says it doesn't look good… we're all pulling for you. That win was for you mate. 

Kieran's thumbs hover over the screen. He sets his phone aside and gets a pillow under his knee before responding. 

Thanks skipper. I'll be back as soon as I can

The other message he wants to reply to comes from Aaron, a short and simple let me know if you need anything.

But the one person he really wants to hear from is among the few who don't try to reach out. There's only one person who could make him feel even slightly better about the entire situation. Unfortunately for Kieran, you apparently want nothing to do with him. 

Kieran sighs, leaning his head against the sofa. The analyst on the television drones on and on about passing statistics and player form from today's match. Every ten seconds someone mentions his injury and how unfortunate it is to have come at a time when Arsenal are surely topping the tables. 

His head is a mess. He replays the moment he went down on an endless loop, seeing it from various angles thanks to the snippets playing on the television. When his knee becomes bothersome again, he does as the doctor instructed and takes another pain pill, washed down with a glass of cool water. 

At some point he must fall asleep, because he jolts awake when his phone rings. He answers it groggily, rubbing at his eyes to croak out a greeting. 

"Hello?" 

"Oh sweetheart, were you asleep? I told your father we should've waited until the morning to call."

"It's alright mum, I'm awake now." Kieran winces as he repositions himself. Turns out falling asleep sitting upright on the sofa isn't the most comfortable way to rest. "What time is it anyway?" Late, judging by how dark the city is outside his window.

"Around eight I think? Dad and I are worried sweetheart… all alone in that flat of yours- are you doing alright?"

Kieran laughs bitterly, "thanks for that reminder of my loneliness mum. Yeah I'm fine, I can take care of myself, done it before." He can barely hear his dad in the background, making some comment about him being too stubborn for his own good.

"Your father says to quit being stubborn, Kieran." Guilt washes over him when he notes the sadness in her voice. "Ask for help when you need it. I could come down for a week, until you can get around easier?"

"No- no thank you." Kieran can scarcely think of anything worse than having his mum hovering over him all hours of the day. She means well, but it would be an overload on his already strained mind.

"Well… just look after yourself Kieran. I know you'll be down on yourself but there isn't anything you could've done. Try and find a little bit of sunshine in that cloudy city, will you? Focus on that."

His mum's words don't register, going in one ear and out the other. "Sure mum, yeah. I'm knackered- I'm gonna head to bed. Thanks for checking in."

Once he's off the phone, it doesn't take long for his mind to wander. He isn't remotely tired, despite his chaotic day. He feels full of energy but has nothing to do with it other than flick through channels and scroll aimlessly on his phone. 

A photo of a sunset pops up in his Instagram feed and interestingly, his first thought is of you. Sunsets are your thing- you post them on your story almost every day. You chase them like some people chase storms: recklessly and without end, often driving to the highest point you could to catch even a glimpse of the vibrant oranges and warm reds as the sun slips below the horizon. 

Have you watched the sunset tonight? After the match, did you beg Aaron to walk you up to the boxes at the Emirates the same way you used to beg Kieran for a ride to the cliffs on the edge of your hometown? 

If you had, Kieran hopes the London sky lived up to your expectations. Then, at least, he can imagine your smile as you snap a photo to remember it by, murmuring that the lense doesn't pick up colors the same way your eyes do.

What are you doing right now?

Kieran's home alone, but you're across town in Aaron's flat, probably curled up sleeping next to him peacefully. Kieran's heart twinges, wishing you were sitting on the sofa comforting him instead. Not even in a romantic capacity- he's craving your friendship tonight, a shoulder to lean on. Someone to tell him the voice in the back of his head is lying. That he hasn't played his last game for Arsenal, that he'll come back even stronger than before. He'd do anything to hear you joke about how if he was lucky, maybe he'd be a bionic man, with a metal knee or something. 

You've always known how to lift Kieran's spirits. He checks his phone for the hundredth time, hoping to see your name in his notifications. Apparently you know how to crush them too; radio silence does the trick.

Kieran taps out a message to you, then thinks better of it. He falls asleep with his phone in his hand, the cursor blinking in the message box beneath your name. 

[armchairaleck]

I have been listening to New Order's - Power, Corruption and Lies a lot, it is kinda my Viren and Sarai album, even though it's very eighties and not super relevant, there's just a certain bittersweetness, especially to the last song..

Possibly Viren and Sarai are in some ways my faves of the TDP characters we've seen so far, and I'm kinda curious about how their relationship might have been, because... well, I want them to have had a pretty close relationship and so I am like, oh.. there was that one line in the novels where Amaya says perhaps Viren knew her sister better in some ways than she did..  

Which allows me to at least interpret they must have been friends, maybe good friends? Though I guess there would be a fair few complicated feelings tied up in the Viren, Harrow and Sarai dynamic in many ways.. especially for Viren haha.. BUT also I feel Sarai at least has the emotional maturity to handle these things in the best possible way, and having a different sort of relationship to the one Viren and Harrow share she would keep them from their worst excesses, and when she died… they lost..

Like they both lost so much that Viren spends the next ten years obsessing over getting revenge.

Alright, even though I know deep in my heart this was probably because Viren was looking for any old excuse to kill Avizendum and start whatever world war and annihilation that proved to be his ultimate aim.. well I am also stubborn and wilful and I want to have that dumb shred of possibility that Viren was grieving hard and because Sarai was Harrow’s wife he never had anywhere to put that grief except for dark magic and uhh.. a super long hunt for a unicorn horn? Yeah.. yeah.. idk really..

But I want Sarai to have been the person Viren would talk to about stuff he might not share with Harrow and vice versa..

(Annnd there is also the point during magma titan where Viren would leave Sarai and Amaya to make it back alone and Sarai says in that moment she hated him viscerally.. but err.. Viren knew they could make it back.. and err.. don’t we always hate things we are close to more than things we don’t really care about? Welp, that’s what I am going to convince myself..)

Viren finding Sarai's boss eyed baby look undeniably attractive...

Alright, and I ship them just a little too, sue me..

Okay, will I ship Viren with every character of his generation (or the one above) that appears in TDP?

Yeah, I think I probably will… but I was going to say - hah, I won’t ship Viren with a dragon at least… no.. no.. no.. that’s never gonna happen… and then… then I had to think about Viren and hench ol' Rex Igneous hanging out.. just for a nanosecond, that’s all.. and now I am no longer sure about that either..

let’s just say this life is infinite and strange and the possibilities are endless.?

[kessicasrps]

"Who said I ever stopped loving you?," I say to you as I stared back into your eyes. There was so much that I wanted to tell you but I was afraid it wouldn't change anything. I had a lot of my own insecurities and I was afraid it might be too late for you to give me a chance. I knew after everything that had happened, I was filing for divorce as soon as I could but I didn't know if you would ever take me back after what I put you through. "Yeah, that can definitely be something we look into.. I just want Haley to have a positive experience with her education and making friends. She is the sweetest little girl in the world and she deserves to have the best experience," I say honestly to you before biting my lip gently as I heard your question. "I would never want to abandon her. I am disappointed in her actions but she is my daughter and I do love her. I am sure with getting divorced, Eleanor and I will be fighting for custody," I sigh softly, knowing I had a long road ahead of me. 

—-

I heard your words as my heart started racing. “I never stopped either,” I say softly. “Loving you that is,” I say softly. “Would you ever want to be with me again?” I asked softly. “I know Haley would love for that to happen,” I chuckled softly. “I want what’s best for a Haley and I think maybe sometime this week, we should look into that, online schooling for Haley. I just want her to relax right now and not worry about anything for a bit,” I sighed softly. I heard what you said afterwards, and I bit my lip gently. “I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, but you don’t have to go through this alone.” I tell you. “You deserve your rights as Brooke’s father to have custody. The divorce might not be easy on her or everything that comes along with what’s going to happen, but she’s still going to need you. She may be able to overcome this and mature from what’s happening,” I explained. “And I’ll be there by your side through all of this. I won’t influence your decisions because I know that can cause problems, but I’m here for you through it all,” I say sincerely. “Maybe somewhere in the future, like five or ten years from now, her and Haley can actually be sisters and not hate each other. They’re family too, and maybe having a sister can help Brooke. They don’t spend time with each other, I think that’s what they need, but maybe when they’re a little older but I want you to keep your relationship with Brooke, even if it means you having her here and Haley and I just keep a distance or whatever we can work out. Just don’t jeopardize what you can have with Brooke as she gets older or you’ll be a stranger to her too. You should be able to be with your daughters at the same time and not go back and forth between them,”

__

I blush a bit when you took my hand and I nod at you before heading out with you and getting us a car to take us to set. I hold your hand in the backseat as I looked back at you, putting my sunglasses on my head so I could stare back into your eyes. "I just want you to think about what you're doing, I guess.. You know how invasive the media and fans can be. I don't want people to know we're together until you're ready for that. Do you think we should tell the director that we're dating? It feels weird hiding it but I'm also protective when it comes to my personal life. I don't want anyone trying to keep us apart. Just spending the last 12 hours with you has made me feel happier than I have felt in a long time," I say honestly to you, blushing slightly.

—-

I heard what you said as I looked at you. “I understand what you mean, but I’m a grown man and can make my own decisions. And I’m fine with it all. I just think you need to be a little more confident when I tell you I’m okay with everything, I’m not like most guys. I just need you to trust me when I tell you something,” I say as I kiss your forehead. “We don’t need to tell anyone until we’re both ready but for now, I like the idea of us knowing for now and maybe we can announce it when we’re done filming?” I suggested. “The last 12 hours were amazing”

[razerback]

spending time with my parents aka subjecting myself to racist rhetoric from a self-hating chinese woman and a guy who thinks he can’t be racist because he married a chinese woman

[wellsayhelloaagin]

Don't Look Back

Summary: This wasn't how your life was meant to go but being with Natasha made it all worth it. Right?

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 3.4K

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, broken bones, death

A/N: This was meant to be one of three stories for my 1 year celebration but it ended up being the only one that was written. So uh, enjoy the pain I guess?

Main Masterlist

Falling in love with an Avenger had never been something you planned for.

You had mapped out your life ahead of you, a five and ten year plan set out meticulously with goals and timeframes. You worked hard to reach each goal, delighting in ticking each one off, one step closer to the life of your dreams.

That all came crashing down when you met Natasha.

You remember the day clearly. You had been rushing to get to work, your day already starting later than planned due to a power outage and lack of alarm to wake you up. You didn’t have time for your usual breakfast at home, opting instead to grab something from the coffee shop around the corner from your office.

You had been in such a frazzled state that you didn’t see her until it was too late, running into the solid body, your freshly brewed coffee spilling over her clothes. 

Your apology died on your lips when you finally looked at her, her green eyes wide with shock.

You knew who she was of course. Who hadn’t seen the Avengers all over their TV screen for the past few years?

What you hadn’t expected though was how captivating her eyes were up close or how the smallest glimmer of a smile gracing her lips would make your knees weak. You stood there gaping at her until she cleared her throat, the action causing your apology to come rushing forth.

You had expected her to hate you for covering her in the steaming liquid. What you hadn’t expected was her asking for your number.

Ever since that day, Natasha had turned your life upside down.

Your carefully structured life was thrown into chaos trying to plan dates around the hectic schedule of an Avenger. You learnt to embrace the chaos and savour whatever time you got to spend with Natasha.

There were times when you wouldn’t see her for weeks, your worry increasing with every day that went by with no contact but Natasha made sure to always come home to you.

You fell head over heels for the redhead, her presence in your life making every day better. It didn’t take long for the two of you to find your own place, wanting to spend every second that you could with each other. You worked around Natasha’s missions and she always made time for you.

When you proposed, you could have sworn your heart was about to leap out of your chest. The box felt heavy in your hands as you looked at her expectantly, watching her green eyes fill with tears. It felt like an eternity but her whispered yes was the best thing you had ever heard.

Marrying Natasha was a dream, the ceremony flying by until suddenly you were kissing your wife. Surrounded by all the people that were important to the two of you, you had celebrated until the early hours of the morning. You felt like constantly pinching yourself, not sure how you could be so lucky. It was the happiest day of your life.

Until the day your daughter was born.

You knew that Natasha wanted nothing more than to become a mother, something that she never thought possible due to her past. So when you had approached Dr Cho, asking her if there was anything she could possibly do to help, you hadn’t had very high hopes.

But almost two years later, hearing your daughter cry for the first time as you looked over at Natasha in the hospital bed, you had never felt more complete. Natasha looked exhausted but you couldn’t miss the pride shining in her eyes as your daughter was placed on her chest. 

Parenthood was harder than you anticipated but you wouldn’t have changed anything for the world. Watching your daughter take her first steps, hearing her first words and all the smiles and laughter in between made every late night, diaper change and tantrum worth it.

Your life was complete and it was nothing like you pictured it would be, your plans long torn up and replaced with something better.

//

You had just put dinner in the oven when you heard the front door close, the sounds of your wife returning home from work filling the house.

“Mama!” you hear your daughter squeal as she runs toward the front door, leaving her colouring books strewn across the kitchen table.

“Hi, malyshonuk,” your wife greets her in return and you smile at the term of endearment Natasha had been calling her since she was born.

You can hear your daughter talking a mile a minute, filling Natasha in on her day as they walk towards the kitchen, voices getting louder as they get closer to you.

“Smells good,” Natasha tells you as she approaches, pressing a kiss to the side of your head in greeting as you lean into her touch.

“You don’t,” you joke, wrinkling your nose at your wife as your daughter giggles beside her. You throw a wink her way, letting her in on the joke and she joins in.

“Yeah, mama,” she agrees, her green eyes alight with mischief. “You smell and your clothes are all dirty!”

She wasn’t wrong about that, Natasha's clothes were covered in dirt and grime, her face not much better.

“Rough day?” you ask, frowning as you take in your wife's appearance. 

She has a small cut above one eye and what looks like a hand-shaped bruise forming on her neck.

“No worse than usual,” she shrugs before smiling down at your daughter, not wanting to worry her with the shift in the mood. “Just busy saving the world again.”

Your daughter looks up at her with wide eyes, adoration evident on her tiny face. You were glad that she idolised your wife,something that you hoped would never change. You never wanted her to resent her mother for all the time she spent away from home.

Since becoming a mother, Natasha had made an effort to step down from missions, spending more time in the office and away from the danger. You could tell she missed the constant action of her old life but she always reassured you that she never regretted the choice and she was home most nights for dinner.

She still went on the occasional mission but her risks were more calculated than before, now that she had something to return home for. 

“Did you beat the bad guys, mama?” your daughter asks, tugging on the hem of Natasha’s jacket to get her attention.

“Sure did,” she replies, bending down to look into the green eyes that resembled her own. “I wouldn’t let anything get away to hurt my favourite humans.”

She grabs your daughter in a hug then, rubbing her dirty face into her neck and causing squeals of laughter to echo through the kitchen. You watch the scene with a smile on your face, never getting tired of watching the two interact.

“Alright you two,” you call out, trying to act stern as you wave a wooden spoon between them. “Time to go clean up while I finish dinner.”

Natasha just salutes you, scooping your daughter over her shoulder before making her way towards the stairs. You can still hear her laughing as they ascend the stairs and you turn your attention to tidying the kitchen before you.

By the time you place the last of the bowls into the dishwasher, they’ve returned to the kitchen, faces clean and smiles bright. Now that Natasha’s face is more visible without a layer of grime covering it, you noticed the lines of worry around her eyes. 

“Hey Rose,” you call out to your daughter, wanting to distract her. “Can you go clear off the things from the table before dinner is ready please?”

“Okay,” she replies, skipping happily off to the dining room.

You can hear her singing to herself as she packs away her pencils, a song from her latest movie obsession that you had listened to on repeat for weeks now.

You turn back to Natasha, a small frown on your face as you notice the bruise on her neck has already darkened.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, reaching your hand out to your wife.

She takes it in her own, the warmth of her hand comforting you as you pull her into a hug. You press your nose into her neck as she winds her arms around you, breathing in her familiar scent.

“Don’t worry about it,” she tells you, her lips pressing against your hair. “Just some work stuff.”

You pull back to look at her and you notice the bags under her eyes. You cup her face in your hands, concern filling you as you realise how tired she looks.

“You know you can talk to me right?” you ask and she nods, resting her forehead against yours.

“I know,” she whispers and you press your lips to hers gently, a small smile gracing her lips at the action.

“How about tomorrow you take a day off?” you suggest, your thumbs tracing Natasha’s cheeks. “I’ll call in sick to work and the three of us can just spend the day together. Maybe we could take Rose to the aquarium and then have lunch at the park?”

“I’d like that,” Natasha's smile is wider this time, her shoulders losing some of their tension.

This time when you kiss her, she leans into the action, her mouth parting to deepen the kiss.

“I’m done!” you hear a loud voice exclaim and you both pull apart to look down at your daughter whose face is scrunched up in disgust. “Ew, you guys are kissing again.”

You roll your eyes at her theatrics as Natasha’s smile turns wicked as she stalks toward Rose. 

“We sure were,” she replies as her arms reach out for her. “And you’re next!” 

Rose squeals and tries to run away but you block her path, helping Natasha to capture her. She kicks her little legs as the two of you lift her up, peppering her face with kisses as she shrieks with laughter.

The oven timer going off saves her and you place her gently on the ground as she tries to catch her breath.

“Okay,” Natasha begins, trying to hide her smile. “I’ll go get dinner out and you help set the table.”

Rose just nods, running over to the drawer that holds the cutlery. She carefully pulls them out before walking over to the table, tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth as she meticulously places them down.

You grab the plates, setting them atop the placemats as Natasha walks into the room, hands covered in oven mitts as she carries the hot dish into the room.

Dinner is a loud affair, Natasha helping you to clear the plates away afterwards as Rose picks out the movie for you all to watch. She falls asleep before it finishes and Natasha carries her up to her room, the two of you tucking her in for the night.

You watch from the doorway as Natasha presses a kiss to her forehead before turning the nightlight on and making sure her favourite teddy bear was tucked safely under her arm.

You both change for bed, slipping under the covers together and turning your bedside lamps off. Natasha’s body curves around yours, her head resting on your chest as her arm is thrown across your body. 

“Goodnight,” she whispers, a small yawn escaping her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, eyes already closing.

//

When you wake up it’s still dark, the light from the streetlight outside barely illuminating the room. You can see that Natasha is sitting up, rummaging around the side of the bed.

“Natasha?” you question, voice groggy as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

“Shh,” she replies and you hear the unmistakable click of a gun’s safety being taken off. “There’s someone here.”

Then you hear it, a soft thud from the direction of the back door of the house. Fear immediately grips you, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What do we do?” you whisper, your voice shaking.

“We need to get Rose,” she answers, already rising from the bed. “Then we need to get the hell out of here. I think they found me.”

She’s already halfway to the door before you can ask who they are, so you settle for scrambling after her as quietly as you can. You both make your way quickly down the hall, sneaking into your daughter's room. She is still sleeping peacefully, unaware of the danger that lurked below her.

Natasha shakes her shoulder gently and her eyes open slowly, blinking a few times as she adjusted to being awake.

“Mama?” she whines, trying to bury her head back into her pillow.

“You need to wake up, malyshonuk,” she whispers, stroking Rose’s hair gently. “We’re going on a secret mission.”

“A mission?” your daughter replies sleepily, more interested now. “What mission?”

“A special mission,” Natasha replies, her voice calm. “But we have to be very quiet, can you do that for me?”

“Like a spy?” she asks, eyes wide as she starts to bounce with excitement. You stand frozen in the doorway, straining to hear any noises from downstairs to indicate if whoever was here had gotten inside the house yet.

You knew that Natasha had ensured that your house was protected with the best security features, knowing there was always a risk that her work would follow her home. You hadn’t believed her when she warned you about it and now here you were, faced with the reality.

“Exactly,” Natasha answers her, helping her out of bed. “I need you to stay close and do exactly as we tell you, okay?”

“Okay, mama,” Rose replies, before hurriedly walking over to you. 

You scoop her up in your arms, looking to Natasha for your next steps.

“We only have a few minutes left,” she tells you, tucking her gun into her waistband. “I’ll hold them off and buy you some time. Head to the compound and I’ll meet you there.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” you hiss at her, trying not to worry your daughter, who was already falling asleep again. “No way.”

“You have to,” Natasha levels you with a stare and you know there is no room to argue. “I won’t be able to concentrate unless I know the two of you are safe.”

“But-” you try to protest but Natasha cuts you off.

“Please?” Her eyes are wide, her voice more broken than you had ever heard it. “For her?”

Her hand is resting on the red locks of your daughter and you know you can’t possibly deny her.

You nod and Natasha lets out the breath she was holding. She grabs the back of your head, pressing her lips to yours in a quick, desperate kiss. It’s over far too soon and she’s pulling her gun out again, leading the two of you out of the room.

You follow her silently down the stairs, still hearing the rustling outside. When you reach the door to the garage she turns to face you again.

“I’ll distract them on the other side of the house,” she informs you and you just nod again, trusting whatever plan she had created. “Wait for the signal before starting the car so they don’t realise where you two are. And whatever you do, whatever you hear, don’t look back.”

“Okay,” you agree, sliding open the door to the garage as Natasha checks inside.

“You have to promise,” she insists her voice desperate. “You have to promise that you will stay out of the house.”

“I promise,” you assure her.

She rests her forehead against yours, eyes closed as she takes a deep breath. She presses a kiss to the top of your daughter's head before her eyes find yours and you can see the tears forming in them.

“I’ll see you in a minute,” she promises, the words lingering in the air as she walks back through the house, closing the garage door behind her.

You waste no time, throwing open the door to the car and placing Rose gently in her car seat. She stirs as you’re buckling her in, her green eyes blinking open again.

“Where’s Mama?” she asks as she looks around, her voice still laced with sleep.

“She’s stopping the bad guys,” you answer her, clicking her restraints into place. “She’s going to meet us at Uncle Tony’s house, okay sweetie?”

You’re trying hard to keep your voice even, not wanting to worry the miniature version of your wife.

“Okay,” she responds happily, still oblivious to the danger. “I’m gonna be the best spy.”

“Of course you are,” you’re sure your smile looks like more of a grimace but thankfully your daughter doesn’t pick up on that. 

You close her door quietly, walking around to the driver's side door. You climb in, opening the centre console to grab the keys but finding it empty.

You swear under your breath, turning around to face the five-year-old in the back seat.

“I need to go grab the keys,” you tell her, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. “I need you to stay here and be super quiet for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Rose responds brightly, placing her finger in front of her lips as she smiles at you.

You take a deep breath before exiting the car, walking quickly towards the garage door. You quietly make your way back into the house, walking toward the kitchen, your back to the wall. You can hardly hear anything over the blood rushing past your ears, your heart beating wildly.

You hear the sound of a struggle upstairs and you know that whoever was here had made it inside. You send up a silent prayer that Natasha was okay as you reach the doorway to the kitchen.

You locate your keys quickly, finding them on the spot on the bench where you had thrown them after picking Rose up from school. You try to settle your breathing before starting to sneak back towards the garage and your waiting daughter.

The sounds of fighting are closer now and you realise that they’re now downstairs. You hear the sound of a fist colliding with a body and the unmistakable sound of Natasha crying out in pain. You glance around the entrance to the living room and what you see there makes your heart stop cold.

Natasha is on her knees, her face bloody and nose clearly broken. In front of her stand two men, one trying to stop the blood flowing from his own broken nose. The other man is holding a gun, pointing it directly at Natasha’s head.

You hear the click of the gun and Natasha looks up, eyes locking with yours. You can see the fear in them, tears silently falling down her cheeks. You want to scream, run into the room and tackle the men to the ground.

But you know that it’s no use. You didn’t have the skills that Natasha did, no training in how to take down two armed men. You also had your daughter to think of, still waiting in the car and blissfully unaware of the situation you were all in.

You can see Natasha silently pleading with you to leave and you mouth the words “I love you” to her before you quickly sneak past the doorway, the men’s backs toward you. Tears are falling down your own cheeks as you make your way to the car.

You open the garage door, no longer waiting for Natasha’s signal. You open the door to the car, climbing in and hiding your tears from your daughter. Your hands shake as you shove the keys into the ignition, the car coming to life as you put it into gear.

You’re holding back sobs as the car starts to roll forward, knowing that you’ll never see your wife again. You look in the rearview mirror, seeing the sleeping face of your daughter, a fresh wave of pain washing over you. 

How were you meant to explain to her that the person she loved most in the world was dead?

This was never meant to be your life. You had never planned to fall in love with an Avenger. You had planned on a boring life, a predictable life, a safe life. But Natasha had waltzed right in and thrown your plans out the window, shown you what love really was and given you the most amazing gift in the world.

You didn’t regret your choices for a second but you weren’t sure how you were supposed to go on without Natasha by your side.

You had only made it to the end of the driveway before you heard the gunshot. 

//

I no longer do taglists but you can follow my library blog and turn on notifications to get alerts when I post a new story @puppiesbrainsandbabieshearts

[huneekrispee]

Where is my lover?

Pairing: c!Dreamwastaken x gn!Reader

Summary: Living outside the Dream SMP, far from the war and chaos, Dream was able to find comfort in you. One day, he leaves, promising to come back to you. It's been months, now you're left wondering... where is my lover?

Warnings: cursing, use of dream's real name, spoilers for the Dream SMP Finale, tiny bit of fluff at the start, angst

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I've been watching Attack on Titan recently, and the song 'Call Your Name' has me in the feels :( Sorry for being away for so long :( School has been an ass to me, I hope you enjoy it!! -Hunee <3

Also! Please don't mind the pronouns in the song! This is a gender-neutral fic, I merely just wrote the song lyrics as they are :)

She lost her brother a month ago

His picture on the wall

And it reminds me

When she brings me coffee... her smile

I wish I could be with her until my last day

In the forest, a cottage lays peacefully in a secluded meadow near a running stream. The tall trees lay their shadows onto the grassy floor, leaving marks from the sun. Water solemnly runs along, moving to its next destination through the stream. Grass rustles and a soft sigh is heard.

Stretching his arms above his head, a man clad in green slowly sits up, emerald eyes darting around. He yawns. "(Y/N)!" He's now standing up, searching for his lover. Dream's hand reaches down to grab his mask left abandoned on the grass, quickly putting it on.

Preparing his sword, his hand on the hilt, Dream slowly steps toward the cottage. He rests a hand on the door, waiting for something, anything.

A scream is heard.

He now slams the door open, netherite blade on full display, ready to attack. Looking around, he notices no one but (Y/N) in the cozy home, with a kettle on the ground next to them. Lowering his guard, sighing with relief, he sheathes his sword once more, walking over to his distraught partner.

"Are you alright?" Removing his mask, he takes their hands in his. Dream looks at them. (Y/N) looks down, taking their hurt hand out of his. Sighing, Dream quickly leads them over to the sink, running the tap. "What happened?" The coldness of the water helped soothe the burn. "I just, accidentally burnt myself with the kettle. It's okay, I'll live, Clay."

The man remained silent. The only sound heard in the cottage was the running tap water. After treating the burn on their hand, Dream leads (Y/N) to the chair on the side of the room. "You. Sit. I'll finish doing whatever you were doing. You just sit there and take it easy, you just burnt your hand." Bending down to their height, Dream stands face to face with (Y/N). He narrows his eyes slightly. He was always like this. Whenever (Y/N) got hurt in any sort of way, Dream was always on it, almost suffocating them with his overwhelming protectiveness.

They sighed, avoiding his eyes. "I- I was just... I just wanted to make you a coffee this morning. I know you're going to be busy later, so I wanted to make sure that you were energized for your work." Fiddling with their bandaged hand, (Y/N) smiled gently. "I see how you're always so dedicated to the stuff you do, and I wanted to return the favor, even if it's just a cup of coffee."

Dream's eyes softened. It was true, he was dedicated to his work. Running an SMP was hard, especially with some people interfering with his plans recently. He had plans to take power over the server again. Finding and taking everything his people were attached to was difficult, but at least he had (Y/N) to come home to. It was all for them. It was worth the hard work and pain just to see (Y/N) smile at him, showing him their love.

"It's okay. Thank you for wanting to do that, but you don't have to." Running his hand up to their cheek, he smiled. "I do all of my work for you, to help make a safe place for you. Once I sort out the rebellious people, I promise, I'll come back to you, and we can live together in my SMP." (Y/N) gazed up at him, looking into his eyes. They smiled, beaming at the idea.

"Alright! I promise I'll wait for you! I'll always wait for you. I love you, Clay."

"I love you too. I promise I will come back to you. Always."

He would do anything to see that smile on their face all the time.

She said she gave all her love to me

We dreamt a new life

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

It had been two days. Two days since Dream had left. (Y/N) had since then tended to the flowers and read a few books Dream had gotten them from a faraway village.

'I wonder what he's doing now?' Looking up at the sky, (Y/N)'s mind began to wander. What was dream doing right now? Maybe he was still on his way back to his SMP? Or maybe he was trading with villagers for resources?

They smiled. Dream had been one of (Y/N)'s lifelong friends turned partner. They had met when (Y/N) used to live in a village as a child. (Y/N) was nine and Clay was ten. Dream had gotten into a rough fight with two skeletons and a zombie. He was stumbling around, trying to find help for his injuries.

That was when (Y/N) appeared. Hearing the boy's cries, they ran out of their family home, taking Dream into the house to be treated, screaming for their parents to help him.

They had grown up together as best friends after that. Meeting George and Sapnap, the group loved to go on little adventures together and play their favourite game: manhunt. Dream would always insist on running, with George and Sapnap chasing after him. Sometimes, (Y/N) would join them, but they quite enjoyed seeing the trio panic during the game. It was fun.

A couple years ago, Dream visited (Y/N), saying that he was starting up his own SMP, a place where he and his friends could have fun and just be themselves all the time. The two of them spend hours in (Y/N)'s room, talking about their big plans and ideas for the SMP. Dream wanted to build a cottage near a stream, and live there peacefully with (Y/N). They were shocked, Dream wanted to live with them? "Why?" They asked.

"Well, because of... I'll just show you."

That was the day Clay had kissed (Y/N) for the first time.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

A month had passed. Nothing from Dream. Usually, he'd send a message through on their server communicator, asking how they were and informing them of his journey and new discoveries. But that didn't happen, not this time.

It was hard. Clay had been such a big part of their life that sometimes they found it hard not to worry about him. They knew he was strong, he could take down armies of people, but everyone had their limit.

Raising the iron hoe, (Y/N) swung down, making way for the new seeds of crops that would grow over the next few months. Wiping their forehead with their sleeve, they sighed.

All they wanted was for Dream to be safe, and for him to come back home once he finished his business in the SMP.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Heavy pants of breath echoed throughout the underground bunker. He was panicking. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

The plan was to kill Tubbo and make Tommy give him his disks.

It all went to shit when Punz showed up with backup, showing the people of his SMP that had turned against him fully.

"W-woah! Okay! Tommy, calm down!"

The blonde boy didn't listen, hands gripping the axe of peace and lifting it high above his head.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you Dream, right here, right now."

Dream silently gulped. For once, his plan failed. It backfired on him and blew up in his face. 'Sorry (Y/N). Guess I'm not coming back tonight.' He just wanted this to be over. He just wanted to be back in the cottage near the stream, sitting with his lover.

His green eyes darted around to everyone in the room. They looked disgusted, some disappointed, others angry. He knew this would never change. He would never get his SMP back. They hated him. Wanted him gone.

"Does Y/N know you're like this?"

His breath hitched. Eyes went wide.

Sapnap had stepped forward, sword out, pointing it threatening at Dream. "Do they know just how bad you are? How corrupt you've become?!" He was yelling at this point. Sapnap was upset as well. It was hard to believe that his best friend would do all of these bad things, it hurt to betray him, but he had to do what was right.

"S-stop. Stop talking about them."

For once, Dream was vulnerable. He hated it. He was always so soft when it came to them. When it came to (Y/N). Sapnap knew that. He had seen it when they were together, how happy dream was when he was with them, following them around like a lost puppy, longing for their love. It went both ways, (Y/N) was the same.

"Who the fuck is- Nevermind. Dream. Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn't-"

"Tommy stop." Sapnap stepped in again. "This is important to not just me but for another person as well." Tommy stepped back, axe still prepared to lash out just in case. Tommy kept muttering to himself, something about a green bastard.

"Dream. Where is (Y/N)? You said they would join the SMP with us, but they're not here, nobody has seen them, probably besides you. You said that they changed their mind about the SMP, or was that a lie too?"

Dream gulped, words caught in his throat.

"Tell me, you bastard! Where is (Y/N) and do they know?!"

"No. They don't know. All I wanted to do was protect them from something I knew would happen. The wars, the chaos of the SMP. They didn't need to be a part of that. I didn't want them to get hurt."

It was almost like a plea. Dream's voice was quiet like he didn't want them to hear what he was saying. Sapnap stepped back, somewhat satisfied with his answer. He was also upset, he hadn't seen (Y/N) in years, not since before the SMP started.

Tommy finally stepped forward.

"Now. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, Dream."

"I can bring people back to life. I can bring Wilbur back."

I said I gave all my love to you

We dreamt a new house

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

Three months. It had been three long months without him. (Y/N) would spend every other night crying in their bed, missing him. They missed everything about him. No messages from him on their communicator. No death messages about him either.

They had never thought that three months could feel so long.

Surely he was busy doing stuff that would mean the world was safer for them. That's what he always said. He said that he worked for them and that he promised that they could settle down and make a new cottage near a different stream, closer to the SMP.

He said he needed to dig out the rebellious people and make his SMP a better place.

All (Y/N) could hope for was that he was safe and doing okay.

We don't know what is wrong tonight

Everybody's got no place to hide

No one's left and there's no one to go on

All I know is my life is gone

Dream was not feeling safe and right now he was feeling anything but okay.

Tommy had just broken his mask. Split down the middle, from the axe of peace.

He didn't want anyone to see his face, no one but (Y/N) and the people who had already seen it before he started wearing the mask.

His mask was his safe haven. A facade he could hide behind. With it gone, there was now no place for him to hide.

All he had done was tell Tommy that he could bring people back to life. When he mentioned Wilbur, Tommy seemed shocked, but then he seemed to come back to his senses after remembering what Wilbur was like before he died.

He went crazy. Insane. All because of Dream and his stupid motives. He only fueled Wilbur's change, encouraging him to blow Manburg up after Jschlatt took over. Thank God for Karl destroying the button the first time. The second attempt was successful and sealed Wilbur's fate as a psychotic, destroyed ex-president swayed by the masked man into committing destruction.

Tommy was angry at that. At the fact that Dream would even think about bringing back Wilbur.

Enraged, he brought the axe down onto Dream's cowering figure.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

Sitting up, (Y/N) slowly looked around the room. It was the same as always; no Dream insight. They woke up every day with a feeling of hope that they would turn around and see Dream at the door, back from his trip.

The situation was too much. (Y/N)'s breaths quickened, eyes blurring up with tears, the salty water slowly dripping down the sides of their cheeks. They let out a dry laugh, bringing up their sweater paw hands to their face, wiping the tears.

They stared at the sleeve of the hoodie they had on. It was green.

It was his.

He always left a spare here, just in case.

It always came in handy when (Y/N) missed him.

They sighed, flopping back down onto the bed, curling into themselves and the hoodie. It smelt like him. He always smelt like a run through the forest, with a hint of saltwater and citrus.

It was comforting.

He was comforting.

The tears wouldn't stop. Every time (Y/N) wiped them away, fresh ones would keep coming. Where was he? Was he okay? It was all they could think about.

(Y/N) hugged themselves, hoping to recreate a hug like his. It didn't work. It never worked.

Nothing could ever compare to his hugs.

Still sobbing, (Y/N) cried themselves back to sleep, despite it being morning.

Not like they had any motivation to do anything without the assurance of him being okay anyways.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Beep.

(Y/N)'s communicator went off.

Dream was slain by Tommyinnit.

[sinswithpleasure]

The Playgirl (ft. LOONA's Yves) [Part 1] [Female Reader]

---------------

This was supposed to be a lengthy oneshot, but I wanna have it out as I write, so... here's Part 1! Just so you know, it's futa!Yves, but I won't really mention it until at least Part 3.

Also, this is entirely female reader!

Can be found on AFF and AO3!

---------------

Everyone knows of Ha Sooyoung.

Most know her by her preferred name Yves, but it is the same either way—the people still have her deeply imprinted in the recesses of their minds. After all, who doesn't know of the campus fuckgirl that only goes for girls?

You are no exception to having knowledge of Sooyoung. After all, she is your seatmate for every class you had, and while she is regularly absent, she is a regular hindrance when present. During lectures, she likes to fling paper balls at unsuspecting classmates, flirt with any female classmate or TA, or play games on her mobile phone loudly. The fact that she is your seatmate only makes it worse, considering she has her feet on the table most of the time.

Now you have to tutor her. The bane of your existence. Ha Sooyoung. Yves. Tutor. Tutor her.

Your look of disbelief meeting your professor's determined gaze melts into a sigh of resignation. You know that no amount of whining or pouting would result in a win for you—Yves had the poorest performance, barely scraping through any of her tests, whereas you aced every test given during your course of study. It would only be natural for you to be tutoring her.

Yves flashes a smirk and wink from the front row of the lecture theatre, giving you a two-fingered salute as the professor leaves.

"Hey, babygirl. Guess you're my new tutor."

"Hi." You cannot help but let bitterness seep into your tone, but you bite down on the bullets you wish to fire.

"You don't seem that happy."

"No, but it's fine. Let's get down to business."

"Uh-uh, not today. I've got a party to get to. How about this, give me your phone."

You hesitantly pass her your phone, and she enters her number in.

"Call me." She flashes another smirk and a wink, pushing her hair back. The phone in your hand displays 'yves 💘'.

-----

When you call Yves, you hear more of the chatter in the background than her voice. However, she is still audible, and that is all you need.

"Hello?"

"Sooyoung. I'll tutor you beginning tomorrow."

"Oh, it's you, babygirl. Sure, see you after class?"

Huh. That was easy.

"Good, please bring along the Calculus textbook—"

Indistinct chatter rings across the line, and you vaguely hear the crowd chanting "Drink! Drink! Drink!" before Yves's voice cuts through the line again.

"Sorry, babygirl, I've got to jet. I ain't gonna win this game of beer pong talkin' to you. See you tomorrow."

Before you can even say anything, the call is cut. You take a deep breath, deciding to let it go. Maybe this would be the only time. After all, innocent until proven guilty, right?

With a long exhale, you throw yourself back into whatever work you were doing.

---------------

When Yves appears after class, she staggers into the classroom, clutching her head.

"Fuck, I shouldn't have drank that much last night."

She crashes on the chair next to you, immediately folding her arms on the table, resting her head on it. Her eyes open blearily when you request for her to take her Calculus textbook out.

"I didn't bring it."

You halt, frustration beginning to build.

"I thought I told you to bring it."

"Well, babygirl, I forgot. Looks like we can't do this today then." Yves rises, staggering towards the door. Repeated calls of her name fall on her deaf ears as she rounds the corner and disappears.

You take a deep breath. Tomorrow.

-----

[You sent a message:]

Yves

Tomorrow, after class.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Hey babygirl

I've got a party tomorrow.

[You sent a message:]

You're ditching your grades for a party?

A party in the afternoon?

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Come on, live a little, it's fun to cut loose!

Yeah, I need to go set it up.

Wanna come?

[You sent a message:]

I'd rather spend my time productively, thank you. I expect to see you after class. The same place.

-----

Yves is absent again from class. Naturally, she is absent from the tutoring session. Every call you make to her goes unanswered throughout the afternoon.

You hate this. It wasn't as if tutoring her was a choice you made—the professor shunted the task to you, even after all your protests and reasoning for why you shouldn't take the job. The impression that she gives off already isn't anything good, and the fact that she actively is wasting your time only pisses you off even more.

The fact that Yves is your seatmate only adds to the frustration. Her shoes are all up in your face, the sounds of her games in your ears, her paper balls all over your table. Everything she did just pissed you off.

When you reach home, you immediately drop a call to Yves. Three rings of the phone is all it takes before she picks up the phone.

"Hey babygirl."

"Don't babygirl me. Where were you this afternoon?"

"I told you, I had a party."

"So you choose to waste my time?"

"Sorry, babe." The lack of sincerity is evident in her voice. "This is clearly more fun."

"You prioritize fun over your grades? Are you trying to fail?"

"Yo, yo, chill, chill! Cut me some slack! Take it easy. I've got time!"

"The final exams are less than half a year away."

"Precisely." Yves's smirk can be heard through the phone. "I have time."

"I don't. Stop wasting my time. Come tomorrow."

"Oh, fiery. Just my type." Yves chuckles, before she pisses you off even further. "I'll see you, just not tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"I'll be busy nursing my hangover. Ciao." The call is cut.

You growl in frustration, squeezing the pen in your hand tightly. How easily she dismisses you only serves to fuel your anger. How could someone give no shits about their future?

Yves was basically the opposite of what you stood for. To you, school was an obligation—something necessary in order to move forward and succeed. This meant that people had to possess the responsibility to keep to this commitment so they could succeed in life. The future is uncertain, so you should make every effort to ensure that you can forge a path that is as certain as it can be.

Yves, however, treated school like a waste of time. To be out having fun mattered more—life and the future is uncertain, so if she could afford the time to live in the moment, then she would take the time to. Why pressure oneself to engineer perfection when imperfection is how the world runs?

This was a constant argument between the both of you when Yves was present in school. On the days she came, you had to fight to pay attention to your professor since the both of you would argue. You hated having to defend your point of view against her, since she was deeply set in her contrasting view. You hate how carefree she is. How is it that someone can live without worrying that much?

When you let your vision focus, you take a deep breath and go back to your work.

---------------

You are ten minutes early for class. Chatter fills the classroom as per usual. When you reach your seat, your ears perk up at a familiar name.

"... you hear Yves took her home last night?"

"... sex … fucked her the whole night … best time of her life …"

You scowl. Even when she wasn't present, you had to hear about her, and even worse, her womanizing and hedonistic lifestyle. Who cares about her?

"Good morning, babygirl."

The bane of your existence appears before your very eyes, leaning over your desk with her signature smirk. You give her a glare, but not before you fail to resist checking her out.

Yes, she is admittedly hot. But insufferable. But hot. Facts are facts.

Her hair slicked back, check. Leather jacket, check. Fishnets and crop top fitting her… appealing chest, check. Tight pants that fit her figure, check. Fuck, she looks so good.

"My eyes are up here." Yves pushes your head up to meet her gaze with a finger. The smug smirk on her face makes you want to slap it off her. "If you want me, all you have to do is ask."

"Why're you here?"

"Someone who places such importance in school doesn't want her seatmate present? I'm hurt, babe."

"Fuck off. Don't touch me." You shift away from her touch, and Yves grins.

"I came to see you, my favourite tutor. You're interesting."

"Put that interest in your studies."

"No, I don't think I will, not when you're this pretty."

You try to fight the blush that appears on your face, but it seems that you fail—Yves's cocky grin only gets bigger when she reclines in her chair, resting her feet on the table.

This is your second year with Yves as a seatmate. The girl next to you somehow managed to scrape past first year, and now here she is, staring at you with an amused smirk, annoying you just as she had since Day 1.

"Y'know, I mean it when I say you're pretty."

"Thank you." You grit your teeth, though how red your face remains betrays your hidden feelings. After all, girls don't really compliment you that often, let alone a hot one like Yves is.

"Mm, you're welcome." Yves smiles, resting her head on her chair. "I'll depend on your tutoring, babygirl. Goodnight."

"You're going to sleep?"

"Yep. I'll just listen attentively to you later, cutie."

"I would prefer it if you paid attention now."

"What, and stare at the prof's ugly mug? Why would I do that when I can take the time to stare at your beautiful face instead?"

"Fuck off."

"Ooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Yves's grin shows how little offense she takes at your rebuttal. "I like you, baby."

You decide to ignore Yves. Ignore how she easily infuriates you. Ignore how hot she is. Ignore the compliments that make heat rise from your cheeks and neck.

Insufferable.

-----

Yves takes a long time to rise from her slumber. You try to shake her, but Yves remains steadfastly asleep on her chair.

"Yves. Wake up."

"Mmnnngggh."

"Wake up, wake up."

"Five more minutes."

"No." You heave a sigh. "Wake. Up."

"Fine, fine, babygirl. You're such a killjoy."

"Do not 'babygirl' me. Let's start."

You pull out your Calculus textbook. Yves halfheartedly pulls hers out as well, and you flip both books to a summary exercise.

"Do these. I need to know your current ability."

"Only because you're pretty, babygirl." Yves picks up her pen, beginning to work on the questions.

-----

"How are you getting all these wrong?"

Your tutee shrugs, leaning back on her chair. "Who cares?"

"I do! You're going to fail."

"Aw babygirl, you do care about me."

"Shut the fuck up. There's so much work I need to do with you."

"Meh, whatever." Yves stretches in her chair, leaning back to close her eyes. "Do your magic, tutor. Teach me."

"Fine. Let's begin."

-----

Both you and Yves part ways at the gate of the campus. After a tense session involving multiple arguments when Yves used more of her phone than to attempt learning anything you were teaching, or when she started to look up girls on Tinder, you gave up and halted the session.

"See you soon, babygirl."

"Fuck you."

"Anytime, babe. You just have to ask."

"Fuck off."

"Calm down. It's not like we don't have time."

"We don't."

"Not with that attitude."

"Fuck your attitude."

Yves only grins when she hears your reply.

---------------

Another tutoring session, another Yves absence. This time, when you call her, you're met with the obscene sounds of Yves engaging in sexual intercourse.

"Hey babygirl."

"Yves. Where are—huh?"

Wet smacks echo loudly through the speaker on your phone. Someone moans on the other side. Regular thumps ring through your speakers.

"I'm a little busy now, baby."

"Wha—what the fuck?"

"As you can hear, I'm busy fucking someone. Bye."

The dial tone that enters your ears almost makes you smash your phone on the table to pieces. You instead settle on smashing your fist against the table instead.

This is the last straw.

-----

The next time you see Yves, you pin her against the wall. Taken by surprise, Yves finds herself in a position she usually puts others into. Smirking, she relents.

"Didn't take you to be so forward."

"This is the last fucking time I'm taking your shit. I've had it with your constant excuses about parties, or whatever. Now, you choose to go fuck some bitch even when you know you have stuff to do. I'm fucking done. I quit."

"Come on, don't be like that, baby." Yves's cocky grin widens. "Maybe I need some more motivation."

"If having your life planned out isn't motivating enough, nothing will work."

"Oh, but I had this wonderful idea…"

You resist taking the bait, but having Yves pinned against the wall fucks with your judgement.

"What?"

Today, Yves is clad in all black leather. Whatever she's wearing doesn't catch your eye—the fact that your face is so close to Yves's flusters you. The same slicked back hair, scarlet lipstick across her kissable lips, a cocky glint in her eye, catching your gaze before traveling down to your lips, then below…

"I've seen the way you look at me, babygirl. You say you hate me, but all I see in your eyes is lust right now. You want me so bad, don't you?"

"Sh-shut the fuck up." You curse at the slight stutter.

"So how about this? I'll be the best student you'll ever have, and if I ace the exams at the end of the year… hmm."

Yves lets her voice trail off, knowing she has your full attention.

"What the fuck do you want?'

"If I ace the exams, I get to fuck you."

You cannot believe your ears.

"What?"

"I said what I said. I'll be the best student you'll have. I'll ace the exams. And when I do, you'll sleep with me."

"Why the fuck would I say yes to that?"

In an instant, Yves flips you around. Your back is now against the wall, your arms held against your will, held down by Yves's grip. Yves leans in.

"Because you think I'm hot."

You subconsciously lean in when you feel her hot breath on your lips, and Yves leans in as well. Something soft presses against your lips. Instantly, she is off you, smirking.

"See you around babygirl. Don't think about me too much."

So you agree.

[ragingbookdragon]

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 2

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language and Angst!

Author's Note: It's amazing how much one can write when they've got a story to tell, eh? Enjoy! -Thorne

Set Three Years After PT. 1:

Life for her revolved around work in the A.M. and community college in the P.M. If she wasn’t brewing cappuccinos and baking apple turnovers, she was writing research papers and taking physics exams. It was hectic and it was hard, much harder than anything she’d done, but it was her life, and she was going to make the best of it. The money she’d taken from her savings account had only lasted her long enough to get a decent one bedroom one bathroom apartment in a small complex and the rest went towards tuition. The coffee shop two blocks from her building had fortunately been looking for a new hire when she arrived, and she took the chance where it was, not going to look the gift horse in its mouth.

The life she lived now was a complete 180 from her old one. Back then, she didn’t have to work (though she did at a high-end department store in the mall—her father got her the job but at least she had one) and there wasn’t anything she couldn’t get with a swipe of a credit card. Now she was on a budget that consisted of five and ten tips and the last time she actually bought a new pair of shoes over a hundred dollars had been last year when she needed them for an interview, and even then, it cost her a limb.

Everything was so different, but she didn’t want to go back, preferring to be on her own and away from Gotham. From the newspapers and media, her family had convinced the world that she’d taken a few years to go overseas and spend time in Europe. A mental reprieve, they’d called it. Partially true if she was honest, but she wasn’t going to open her mouth about it lest they learned where she was. She didn’t go through all that trouble to be found within three years.

“Melisandre.”

Maybe I should move again?

“Melisandre?”

Moving would take a long time but it would be effective.

“Melisandre!”

Someone grabbed her arm over the counter, and she jerked with a start, eyes widening as she finally realized someone was standing in front of her.

“Barry?” she asked, and he smiled.

“Finally,” he snorted. “I’ve been calling your name for like ten minutes now.”

She felt a flush creep along her cheeks, and she smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I was thinking about something. Usual?” she murmured, marking a disposable coffee cup with a marker.

Barry nodded with understanding and handed her a credit card. “I hear you. How’s studying going for that physics exam?” His blue eyes darted to the science book she had sprawled over the counter.

“It’s going,” she muttered and turned, starting to mix together his latte. “I still can’t get the thermodynamic laws down. They’re a bit confusing.”

“Yeah, it’ll take a while. You know if you need my help, all you gotta do is ask, right?”

Shrugging, she glanced at him as she poured. “You’re a busy man, Barry. I can’t have you trying to help me while trying to solve cases too.”

Barry chuckled and accepted the freshly poured latte. “I’m an excellent multitasker, Melisandre. Besides, you don’t have to worry about it messing with my work.” She opened her mouth to retort but he cut her off. “Seriously, shoot me an email about whatever questions you’ve got, and I’ll take a look at ‘em, okay?”

Her eyes narrowed warily, and she inquired, “You’re sure it won’t interfere? I’d hate for you to get in trouble for working on non-work-related things.”

“I promise, Melisandre,” he smiled and accepted a bag of apple turnovers too. He couldn’t help but pull one out and bite into it, letting out a delighted noise. “God, what do you put in these things? They’re phenomenal.”

She giggled and winked as he handed her a twenty. “A baker never reveals her secret, but if you really want to know, I use a little vanilla extract.”

Barry shook his head with a chuckle and started making his way to the door. “See you later, Melisandre!”

Waving at him, she called, “Bye Barry! Take care!”

Just as he opened the door, he stopped and spun around, suddenly asking, “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?”

Blinking, she glanced at the physics book then back to him. “Well, I was going to be studying for the exam…why?”

“My nephew is in town and I wanted to introduce him to you. I’ve already mentioned you a bunch of times and he wants to meet you.”

Her face pinched. “Barry Allen, what did you tell that poor boy?”

He stuck his tongue out at her. “That there’s a lonely college student who has no friends but has the greatest baking abilities in the world.”

“I cannot believe you told him I had no friends! Why!”

“You don’t.”

“Well, yeah! But still! You don’t just tell someone that! It makes me seem like there’s something wrong with me!”

Barry waved a hand. “Relax. Wally’s the least jerky person you’ll meet.” He smiled. “You’ll like him.”

She frowned. “I still don’t think this is a good idea, Barry.”

“Why not?”

“Well, he’s here to see you and your wife, not come meet the person who feeds your apple turnover addiction.”

The blonde’s cheeks turned a dark shade of crimson and he spluttered, “It is not an addiction!” he spun around and marched through the door. “I’ll send him over tomorrow! Bye!”

And he left before she could even say a word.

***

It had to be hieroglyphics. It was either that or some ancient cuneiform he’d recently taken up interest in, because there was no way whatever he’d written on the paper was English.

She cocked her head to the side, muttering, “Jesus Christ, Barry, did you write this on a caffeine bender? Your writing is like chicken scratch.” She tipped her head to the other side trying to decipher it when someone leaned over her shoulder.

“Which problem do you need help on?” they asked, and she pointed to the sheet.

“I have no idea what that says.” She turned and saw a red-haired stranger. “If you think you can, be my guest.”

He took it and read over it a moment, green eyes scanning over the page then he said, “Let’s see, he wrote first, ‘The third law of thermodynamics states that the entropy of a system at absolute zero is a well-defined constant. This is because a system at zero temperature exists in its ground state, so that its entropy is determined only by the degeneracy of the ground state.’”

Pausing, he scanned it again and added, “Then he marked a note beside it and wrote, ‘In simplistic terms, if an object reaches the absolute zero temp. of (0 K = -273.15C = -459.67°F), its atoms will stop moving. In other words, at absolute zero, the entropy of a perfectly crystalline substance is zero.’”

Glancing at her, he smiled. “Make sense now?”

She huffed and nodded, taking the sheet back. “Yeah, thanks. I don’t even know how you managed to get all that from his writing.”

He nodded. “Yeah, Barry’s handwriting is deplorable.”

Her eyes went wide, and she immediately questioned, “How did you?”

Sticking a hand out, he greeted, “Wally West. I’m Barry’s nephew.”

Shaking his hand, she couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t believe he actually told you to come up here and meet me.” A smile came across her lips. “I’m Melisandre Hale.”

“That’s a pretty name, Melisandre.”

“Thank you,” she grinned and waved him to one of the bar-stools on the adjacent side of the counter. “Have a seat and I’ll get you something to eat and drink.” As she slid behind the counter, she inquired, “Anything specific?”

Wally stared at the bored, offhandedly mentioning, “Barry said something about apple turnovers that could make you cry with joy, so I’ve gotta have one of those.” His evergreen eyes met hers. “Maybe two if I’m being honest.”

She grunted, but a grin crossed her lips, nevertheless. “Barry exaggerates a lot, Wally. They’re good, but they’re not mind-blowingly good.”

“Then I guess that leaves me to be the judge,” he countered with a smirk. “What should I drink?”

She thought for a moment then offered, “Have any judgments about drinking before five o’clock?”

He let out a startled laugh and shook his head. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

With a grin, she turned and started working her magic and a moment later, she was sliding a plate with two iced apple turnovers over along with a clear steaming mug of dark coffee with cream on top. She leaned her hip on the counter and watched him pick up one of the apple turnovers and take a bite.

Immediately his eyes went wide, and he exclaimed, “Holy shit.” He gaped at her. “This is delicious, Melisandre!”

Despite herself, her cheeks warmed, and she gave him an easy smile. “Thanks, Wally.” She nodded to the crystal mug. “Try the Irish coffee.”

He did so and tossed his head back, letting out an exaggerated groan that had her laughing until her stomach hurt. Wally was on his second turnover and he looked at her.

“You’ve gotta open up a bakery or something, Melisandre. Your pastries are awesome.”

She huffed and took the plate from him as he finished the last bite. “Let me get through college first and then I’ll wonder how to rack up enough to open a shop.”

“What are you studying?”

Pausing, she tossed a quick glance at him. “There’s no specification right now. I’m just doing general studies to get all the basics out of the way.” She put the dish in the sink and started rinsing it. “I’m at the four-C right now.” His brows pulled together, and she added, “Central City Community College.”

He snapped his fingers. “Right! It’s been a while since I went to the four-C.”

Her eyes found his and she curiously asked, “Did you go there?”

“Yeah, a few years back.”

“You don’t look that much older than I am. How old are you, Wally?”

He sipped his coffee and set it down as he replied, “I turned twenty-eight a month ago.”

“Happy belated birthday,” she smiled, and he gave her one in return.

“Thanks. How about you?”

“I turned twenty-one a few months ago.”

“Hmm, happy belated birthday to you as well.” He grinned, quipping, “How’s it feel to finally be able to legally do all the things you were doing before you turned twenty-one?”

She shot him a look. “Shame on you, Wally West, for assuming I was doing illegal things.” He chuckled and she shrugged. “But to answer your question, it feels great, so thanks.”

Wally snorted at that. “My best friend and I got absolutely hammered on our twenty-firsts and swore to never drink hard liquor again after we woke up in the bathroom in our underwear after passing out on the floor.”

A shudder passed over her at her own memory of waking up beside the toilet after her birthday celebration with a bottle of white rum. She cocked a hand up with her water bottle in it. “Here, here,” she toasted and took a sip as Wally raised his coffee and drank too.

She glanced at him. “Are you in school, or are you done?”

“I finished a while ago. I work out of a tower with a group of friends in Manhattan.”

For a moment, her eyes drifted to the simple pair of jeans and graphic shirt he was wearing. She lived in the upper area of Gotham and she knew what uptown Manhattan was like, and it wasn’t jeans and t-shirts.

Evidently, he did too because he scowled, “I have suits and ties, thank you very much.”

She snorted and took the empty mug from him. “I didn’t say anything, Wally.”

“You made a face.”

“Is a face a ground to be hostile?” she grinned. “I was just wondering what type of business in Manhattan ran on flash t-shirts and skinny jeans.” She eyed him. “Tech?”

He shrugged. “It’s…a bit of everything if I’m being honest.” It sounded like he didn’t exactly want to say, and she let it be, rinsing out his cup before setting it to dry.

A buzz sounded and she felt for her phone when he said, “That’s mine.” Wally pulled his phone out, read the message, and stood up. “I’ve gotta go, Melisandre.”

She nodded and took the twenty-dollar bill he handed her, waving her off when she tried to hand back the change. As he started towards the door, she called, “Wally?”

He turned on his heel and waited and she felt foolish for saying it, but she admitted with warmth in her cheeks, “It’s been a while since I had any semblance of a friend…so thanks for this afternoon.”

Wally gave her a pearly white grin. “Barry said you’d say something like that,” he chuckled as she scowled and he added sincerely, “Can never have too many friends, Melisandre…and I hope you’ll become a great one of mine. So far, you already are.”

She smiled, “Same here, Wally.” The bell signaled his exit and she let out a heavy sigh as her heart warmed in her chest at the feeling of a newfound friendship.

***

She was dead on her feet when she finally got through her front door and into her living room, practically collapsing onto the couch. Though it wasn’t far from the truth as she flopped down and toed off her shoes, heaving a long and winded sigh as she stared at the dark ceiling. She wanted to turn on the lamp on the table beside her, but she didn’t want to move. Hell, she barely wanted to get up and take a shower, so she didn’t go to bed sweaty.

Just a moment. She thought. Just a moment to close my eyes and I’ll get up and go shower.

Of course, the second the shut them, she was opening them to her phone telling her it was two A.M. She groaned and picked herself off the couch to shuffle into her bedroom, and when she got there, she peeled off the clothes from her body and let them fall, not caring about the hamper just a foot away. She’d do it tomorrow after class.

The shower was quick, and she crawled into bed a few minutes later, glancing out the window at the stars that were still in the night sky. Even if she tried to avoid thinking about it, she couldn’t, and her mind drifted to when she was a young girl and would stare out the window in her bedroom back in Gotham, watching the spotlight come alive and paint the silhouette of the bat symbol against the night sky.

She missed them. She missed them a lot. Missed eating meals at a full table and the laughter in the manor. Hell, she even missed being ignored, because at least then she could see familiar faces every day. Now, it was wake up, go to work, go to class, then come home. And the process repeated every morning. She was alone in a city where she didn’t know anyone except for one forensic scientist and his wife, going to a college that didn’t even have her real identity. She’d not even said the name “(Y/N) Wayne” out loud for fear that someone with super hearing would hear her and tell her father, instead going by “Melisandre Hale”, a twenty-one-year-old born and raised Central City citizen going to community college. It pained her to admit, that with her decision to grant herself the freedom she desired, it came with a heavy price, and that was the loneliness. And it was worse compared to what it was like back then.

Sighing, she rolled over and pulled the covers up over her head, hoping that when she shut her eyes, she’d stop thinking about what she left behind. Unfortunately, the universe and her mind were never kind, and as she drifted to sleep, she saw the pained faces of her family.

[julemmaes]

Not Enough

Rowaelin Month, Day Three

A/N: guess what? French is still not a priority:) This is a continuation of yesterday's prompt actually, but there's no need to read it to understand the story, I just think it'd hurt more if you did tho. So it's up to you, enjoy!

Word Count: 2,646

Aelin had been awake long before her fiancé's alarm went off.

She had been awake when the sun had begun to shine through the blinds and she had been awake when he had rolled over in bed, holding her one last time before getting up to go to the bathroom.

She had vividly felt the kiss he had left on her forehead and the whispered words of each morning.

Go back to sleep, love.

The sound of water falling in the shower and the soft humming of Rowan preparing for yet another day in the Senators. The song of the birds beginning to fly out of their flat wasn't giving her the fairy-tale awakening it did every morning. And the Ottawa traffic that increased with the ticking of the clock was no longer giving her the sense of life it had given her over the past few months.

And then a hint of hope as Rowan walked into their room and began to change, slipping on his shoes and giving her another kiss, this time on the lips.

The sound of his duffle bag being lifted off the ground, the sticks banging into each other.

The jacket being put on.

She heard the front door open and closed her eyes, a smile so slight that few would be able to see it for what was perhaps finally happening.

Aelin began to hope as she had never before in her life.

That Rowan hadn't just forgotten to take off the ring he wore on his finger, but had deliberately decided to leave the house with the silver band on his hand. To show it to the world.

She heard the soft click of the door shutting and brought her hands to her face, trying to hide the clear happiness etched on her features, trying to hold back the shriek of victory.

She pulled herself up in her seat, her head snapping to his bedside table to make sure it wasn't just a dream. That Rowan had actually gone outside, shouting to the world that he was getting married. When she didn't see anything shiny on the countertop, she fell forward onto the bed, a dazzling smile now beyond her control on her lips.

They had talked about it for a long time, arguing for days, weeks, each time deciding to leave things as they were.

Rowan Whitethorn, professional athlete, rookie for his dream team, was climbing the ranks of every chart that existed. New recruit with most goals scored in the last ten years. Player with the fastest shot ever. Most handsome man of the year.

Aelin was proud. She was so proud.

But she wasn't happy.

It had been more than two years since they got together. Two of the best years of Aelin's life, in spite of everything.

They'd spent the last year of college breaking up and getting back together, constantly, amidst the rumors from others and the insults from every person who insinuated that she was only dating him for his title, for what he would become in a few months. They'd broken up for good the summer Rowan had been called up to play for one of the top teams in the country, after she'd been pushed to the ground by an overly agitated fan outside a club during one of their friends' birthdays.

Rowan had lost his temper, lashed out, and the team had threatened to cut him off before he even got in. Aelin would have never allowed such a thing and had left him, saying there was no hope for them anyway. Either way, he would travel for six months non-stop and she would stay home, alone.

He had looked at her, his eyes wet with tears that Aelin had never seen him cry, and thanked her, for putting up with everything he had subjected her to.

When it was confirmed that Rowan had made it onto the Ottawa Senators, Aelin, who hadn't spoken to him in months, had texted him, congratulating him on achieving his dream.

He hadn't texted her back, and Aelin had known that whatever hope they had had was dead.

Surely she wouldn't have imagined Rowan turning up at her house, asking her to go with him, the day before the move. Desperate, opening his heart to her, his every thought, his every worry. But showing how far he would be willing to go if it meant spending even one more night with her.

And that was how Aelin found herself in their home, in their new city. Promised to the only man she would ever love, to the only man who would know her so well that he understood what was going on in her head even before she did.

And until now she had been a secret.

They had kept their relationship a secret.

Only their closest friends, their families had known of their comeback.

And they'd been so painfully good at keeping a low profile, despite Rowan being all over the headlines of every sports magazine. So good, in fact, that Aelin felt as if she didn't exist.

Every interview in which Rowan said he had no one, that he was single. Every picture of him and one of their friends in the magazines hinting at a possible relationship. Whether it was Lysandra, Nehemia, Manon - she didn't care, she knew he'd come home to her. But every little thing was just another splinter added to the spike that was piercing her heart.

But today, she thought, smiling, today Rowan had gone out with the ring.

The promise he had made to her, that he would be hers one day.

The promise he'd been afraid to show to anyone, and that he'd slipped off every day to keep the reporters from talking.

She was still floating on clouds, her breath short, ready to burst into tears with happiness the second her brain too had really understood what was going on. It was at that moment that she heard it.

The front door opening.

Rowan walking quickly towards their room. The heavy footsteps in the hallway.

He opened the door, giving her a half smile.

Aelin felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

He greeted her with a quick kiss. Something he had once been allowed to do even in public. Something that had given her the strongest emotions he was now afraid to do.

She stopped seeing. Hearing. Feeling.

She got out of bed with slow, almost robotic movements, heading for the bathroom. She clung to the sink, her grip so tight her knuckles turned white, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes that had once been cheerful, happy, looked back at her empty, dull.

And Aelin knew, even without looking, that on the bedside table lay his ring.

***

Rowan had never been so tired in his life.

Today's training had exhausted him so much that he'd almost called Aelin to come and pick him up, worried that if he got behind the wheel in this condition he'd have an accident.

Then he remembered that he couldn't.

That Aelin couldn't come and get him, because to let her leave the house, to let others know of her links to him would put her in danger.

So he'd gotten into his car and driven with the radio volume too loud, to keep him awake, and pinched himself every time he changed songs, to stay alert on the road.

He walked up the stairs to his house with hurried steps, wanting to reach Aelin as soon as possible. Telling her that he had missed her and the crap Lorcan had said during practice. Warning her that Fenrys would be coming to town in the next few days and they would have to arrange a dinner at their house.

He liked being able to talk about their friends, it gave him a sense of normalcy. Something that playing hockey didn't give him.

He would never say he was unhappy with his sporting career. He couldn't even if he wanted to. Hockey had been his final destination since the first time his father had put skates on his feet and pushed him on the ice.

And now, after winning the championship, with record-breaking results, his first year as a professional, he couldn't complain too much.

But staying away from Aelin during games. The hotel rooms, the flights, the girls throwing themselves at him at every party thinking he wasn't taken... it had been taxing. And he couldn't help but imagine that it would only get harder over the years.

The only thing that would keep him sane was the idea of coming home to her.

He opened the door, calling her name and expecting the smell of whatever she had decided to cook that night to fill his nose, but it didn't. Aelin didn't answer, all the lights were off, and he lent an ear to the hallway, hoping to hear the shower going - maybe he'd even be able to join her if he moved fast enough - but the house was shrouded in stark silence.

He closed his eyes with a sigh.

He hated coming home when she was out.

Whether she was at the gym or shopping, it was like a torture that only he had to endure.

He carried his duffel bag into the bedroom, leaving everything by the wardrobe, slipping off his shoes slowly and letting himself fall onto the mattress.

He ran a hand over his face, trying to get some of the sleep out of his body, and turned to the bedside table, ready to wear the ring she had gotten him. A promise he'd be able to keep once things were settled with his agent.

He snatched the ring from the bedside table and found himself taking a second look at it.

His breath caught in his throat.

Aelin's ring sat there, next to a slip of paper.

And Rowan knew. Even without having read what she had written, what it meant.

He snapped out of bed, opening her wardrobe violently, the dressers, finding them completely empty. He cursed aloud, running to the bathroom, opening every goddamn drawer, every shelf, finding them bare of all her possessions.

The living room, her reading nook, empty of everything that had belonged to her.

He grew short of breath and the more air he tried to gulp down, the more panic assailed him, closing his lungs.

He ran back into their bedroom, grabbing the letter and running his eyes over the words, looking for a clue, a name that would give her away and make him know where she was.

Lysandra.

He grabbed the phone from his jacket, fingers too fast on the screen as he searched for his friend's number.

She picked it up after three rings.

"Rowan! Hey, what's up?" she replied cheerfully.

He did not even waste any time in answering, "Where's Aelin?" he asked in short breath.

"Aelin?" asked Lysandra, then in a more concerned tone. "Why don't you know where she is? Something happened?"

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends until he felt pain, "She left a letter, saying she was leaving and you'd know-"

"Rowan, she didn't call me. She didn't leave me any message," she stopped him.

A choked sound escaped his control. "Fuck."

"Wait." she said suddenly. "Yeah, here, I got a message from her a couple of hours ago. She-"

She froze suddenly and Rowan knew immediately what was about to happen.

"Please." he begged her.

Lysandra remained silent.

"Rowan, I can't tell you-"

"Please, Lys. Please." his voice broke.

He heard his friend take a deep breath, "Let me talk to her. And I'll let you know," and then a pause, "but if she asks me not to tell you anything, Rowan, I won't betray her trust like that."

He knew that. And he was glad that Aelin had friends she could still trust blindly.

"In the meantime, try to rest. I'll let you know if she's okay."

The call ended, Rowan didn't even say goodbye. He stood in front of the bed, a bed he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in tonight without her. He picked up the letter with trembling hands and headed for the kitchen.

He set it down on the table, sitting up and rubbing his hands over his eyes.

He needed something to drink if he was going to go through with this.

He poured himself half a glass of whiskey and began to read.

Hi Rowan

when you’ll read this, I’ll be on a plane over the ocean already. I don’t know where I’m going yet and I’m not gonna tell you, cause I don’t want you knowing and leaving everything behind to follow me.

Cause I know you would, baby, I know you’d let it all go for me in a second if I asked you to. But I’m not letting you. What kind of person would that make me if I did?

You worked your entire life for this. You woke up at unholy hours of the day just to train for half of your life. You had your body slammed into those plastic barriers for fun for years, cause you love the feeling you get after a good game. I know you always complain about the bruises and the pain, but we all know you like that cause it makes you feel like you did enough. You ate shit food that tastes like cardboard so you could have that amazing body and play for your dream team. Skate on the ice whenever you want.

And you did it, Rowan. You made you dream come true.

And I’m not gonna be the one person to take it from you.

I won’t ask you to give up on something this big, not for me.

I’m just a person.

Someone you love, that used to love you.

But I can’t do this anymore, because I’m losing myself. And losing this part of me will make me hate you. And I don’t want that to happen.

I don’t want to be your secret anymore. And I don’t want to have to protect myself when I go out if I’m not. I want to be able to walk next to you, holding your hand without risking being shoved aside or hurt. I don’t want you to be worried all the time, whenever I’m not with you. I don’t want people talking about us.

And I’m weak, Rowan. I’m not like you, and I’m so tired. I can’t put on a mask, an armor, and pretend like the words don’t hurt, cause they do. They slice through my heart and they taint my love for you.

This isn’t the life I wanted for us, but it’s the one fate gave us, so maybe we’re not meant to be. I hoped with everything I am that we were, that I deserved you – that one day people would stop caring about others’ lives and mind their own fucking business.

It broke us back in college and I’m not willing to have them do that again on their terms, so I’m doing it on mine.

I wish I could be your “till death do us apart”, but I can’t.

I hope you find someone who will love you as much as you deserve and I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person.

I’m sorry my love was not enough.

Please, for my own sanity, don’t ask Lysandra where I am.

I’m not coming back,

Aelin

Rowan sat there, tears streaming down his face, as he read and reread the paper in his hands, finding hard to breathe as his world collapsed on him.

And the only thing he wished, was for him to be able to hold her one last time.

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[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter nine: “Fuck it, I love you”

Word count: 8,2K

Summary:  (Y/N) is struggling with her feelings for Spencer, and being just her friend might be harder than she thought. Spencer feels everybody but (Y/N) knows he is in love with her, and for a second, he is sure he will lose her.

Warnings: Cursing, angst frustration, mention of S03E09 (Penelope), usual Criminal Minds content.

A/N:  Hello my dearest friends! hope you are having a great week, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. All feedback is welcome!

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

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(Y/N)'s point of view

Since Rossi joined the team, we were as busy as we had been in a long time. We didn't have much free time, and most of the cases took us out of Virginia. But, it was our job, and we all liked it, which is why none of us complained much. No one but JJ, who still tried to keep her relationship with Will a secret.

On the bright side, all that traveling and working with the team got us even closer. Having Rossi there gave us a boost to be better at what we did and be even better friends. We had to spend a lot of time together, and by the look in David's eyes, you could tell he was surprised by how good we all got along. At least most of the time.

We were in Florida trying to find an unsub who kidnapped and mutilated women when it happened. After knowing them for over two years, Garcia and Morgan had a fight. A real fight.

- "Hey, how is it going with Father Marks? Any of the volunteers jumped out at him?"- I asked Morgan when I found him at the station after a long day trying to find a lead that might take us to the unsub or the victims.

- "Not yet"- my cellphone rang that second, and Garcia's voice at the other side of the line gave me more info on the case.

- "I'm still running the particulars of our homicides though vicap. Nothing so far."- she announced.

- "Ok. I just sent you the volunteer search list"- I walked from Morgan and sipped my coffee, feeling there was something off.

- "Ok. And I'm cross-checking the names against mental institution records."

- "Pay attention to individuals who were involuntarily committed in Florida. Rossi is convinced our unsub is the type that likes to stick close to home."

- "Got it. Talk to you later."

- "Wait, PG. You usually call Morgan about these kinds of things. Is everything ok?"- I whispered though I knew Morgan was paying a lot of attention to what I was talking about on the phone with Garcia.

- "God, I hate profilers"- she groaned at the other side of the line.

- "Come on, tell me."

- "Fine. I met this guy in the coffee shop I go to every day. His computer crashed, and I helped him fix it. He flirted, I flirted, and he asked for my number, and somehow I gave it to him 'cos he was incredibly hot and nice, and did I mention he was smoking hot? I didn't think he was going to call, but he did, which was surprising 'cos these things do not happen to me, sweet cheeks, never! But it did! And when I told Derek, he just told me I have to blow him off 'cos it's too weird."

- "What!?"- Penelope spoke so fast she didn't even breathe.

- "Yes! Just because he wouldn't hit on me doesn't mean another hot guy wouldn't! And he made me feel like I don't deserve anyone's attention."

- "I'm gonna kill him,"- I whispered and turned around. Derek wide opened his eyes and shrugged, not getting what was going on.

- "Don't. I'll take care of him when you guys come home."

- "Well, take care in the mid-time, and I'm here if you need to talk."

I hung down and sighed. Morgan looked at me, knowing I knew what happened between the two of them.

- "So?"

- "You fucked it up,"- I whispered and smacked his shoulder.

- "Is she furious?"

- "She's hurt. That's actually worse."- Derek sighed and shook his head.

- "What do I do?"

- "You mean, other than to apologize?"- I walked with him to get Hotch and tell him what Garcia had just informed us- "Think big, 'cos you really fucked it up."

- "What does Reid do when he fucks things up with you?"- Morgan asked, and I could sense the innuendo hidden in his words.

- "He doesn't do a thing, 'cos he never fucks up"- I answered with a pleased smile and turned to Hotch. It was time to catch a killer, not time to argue with Derek.

I always thought Morgan and Garcia were the greatest friends I had ever met. I could envy their relationship, especially 'cos they could be so flirtatious and so adorable, and at the same time, you knew their friendship was sacred.

I envied that. I don't think Penelope felt for Derek the way I felt about Spencer. That's why I was sure I had fucked it up. I didn't have to catch those kinds of feelings for my best friend, and I felt I had to find a way to get rid of them. I had to stop having a crush on Reid.

Those weeks had been challenging and yet amazing. It was awful knowing I had a crush on my best friend, but I was really enjoying all the time we were spending together. We had been sharing rooms for the last two cases, and that meant endless sleepovers with Spencer. After a long day, we would meet in our room and just share candies, ice cream, pizza, movies, whatever we needed to decompress.

If things had been too hard, I would lay with him on his bed and just cuddle for a while before going back to my bed. More than once, I fell asleep with him, feeling his fingers playing with my hair as he read. I always apologized the following day, but Spencer kept saying he didn't bother, that he had slept well and that I could always count on him whenever I felt bad.

Knowing I had never done that with Mikey or Frank more than a handful of times in all the years we had met each other made me feel like the shit. Sure, I could sleep in the same bed with them, but not the way I did with Spencer. This felt intimate. Serious. Real. Waking up in Spencer's arms was the best way to start my day, and each time it happened, it made me feel worst and worst 'cos I didn't want to ruin the best friendship I ever had over a silly, stupid, meaningless crush.

Each time it happened, I promised myself it would be the last one. And each time I did, I ended up falling into his arms again. It never meant anything sexual. It was just sharing a bed, cuddling. Holding each other. It was all the intimacy I always refused to share with other people. And I guess that's what freaked me out the most: how vulnerable I was with Reid and how much I enjoyed it for the very first time. Ever.

- "Hey,"- I heard Spencer whisper when we landed. I was curled up on his chest on the couch on the plane, as usual after a long case. I scratched my eyes, probably messing with my makeup, and smiled at him.

- "Sorry... you must have been awfully uncomfortable."

- "Not really. Besides, you looked like you needed a good nap,"- I chuckled and shook my head, sitting down correctly.

- "Next time I drool on your jacket, please wake me up,"- I collected all my things and took a look around- "What time is it?"

- "Almost midnight,"- he announced and stared at me as he held his go bag and put on his jacket- "Do you want to grab something to eat before you go home?"- and I nodded, thinking that was exactly what I had in mind.

But life had other plans, and this time it had nothing to do with us. We were about to get out of my car to catch a late dinner when I got a call from Hotch telling me Penelope was in the local hospital. Spencer's cell phone rang at the same time, and JJ announced the same. We looked at each other for a moment, scared of the worst, and all we managed to do was to get buckled up and drive to the hospital. We both needed to know Penelope would be ok, but all we knew was that she had been shot, and the doctors were doing all they could to save her life.

As soon as we reached the waiting area, we met Aaron and JJ. They looked as worried as we were.

- "She's in surgery,"- JJ announced, and I hugged her immediately- "There's no word."

- "This is crazy,"- Spencer whispered as I felt JJ's arms tighten around me.

- "I can't believe it! I talked to her before we took off."- I murmured and closed my eyes.

- "What do we know?"- Rossi asked, walking over in a hurry with Prentiss.

- "Police think it's a botched robbery,"- Aaron explained.

- "Where's Morgan?"- Emily asked, looking around the hall.

- "He's not answering his cell,"- JJ replied, and Spencer took his phone right away.

- "I'll call him again."

I looked at him as he walked away and turned to my friends. Emily and JJ were doing their best to stay strong, but it was clear they were fighting the tears back, just as badly as I was doing.

Spencer walked back and shook his head. He couldn't reach Morgan. I walked to him and rested my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. It was unreal. I felt I was in a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up, no matter how much I tried.

- "They can't give me an update,"- JJ walked over to us after half an hour. She had been trying to get more info about Penelope's condition, but nothing.

- "Morgan's phone just keeps going straight to voicemail,"- Spencer added, and Prentiss's angry voice nearly made me jump.

- "Where the hell is he?!"

Nearly two hours later, Spencer finally contacted Derek, and in less than half an hour, he rushed into the hospital and found us still waiting for news about Penelope. He ran over, shocked and confused, and looked at us, waiting for an explanation.

- "She's been in surgery a couple of hours."- JJ whispered as soon as he stood by our side.

- "I was at church. My phone was off,"- he explained and mostly tried to excuse himself for not being there earlier.

- "There is nothing you could have been doing here,"- Reid whispered, trying to make him feel better. Spoiler: it didn't work. Morgan was getting more and more hyperventilated with every second he spent in that hospital.

- "The police got any leads?"

- "I spoke to the lead detective. He doesn't think we'll get anything from the scene."

Hotch spoke in the calmest voice he had. Morgan was about to say something but bit his tongue. Instead of yelling, he walked around the hall for a few minutes until a doctor approached us.

- "Penelope Garcia?"- and we all nearly yelled "Yes" as a desperate reply.

- "The bullet went into her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen. She lost a lot of blood. It was touch-and-go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries."

- "So what are you saying?"- JJ questioned as we all held our breath.

- "One centimeter over, and it would have torn right through her heart. Instead, she could actually walk out of here in a couple of days. And I'd say that's a minor miracle."

The way we all sighed, relieved at those words, was priceless and unbeatable. The doctor smiled at us and added.

- "She needs her rest. You can see her in the morning."

- "Thank you,"- I smiled at him, and he was gone. I turned around and looked at Reid. He cut me a short smile as Hotch's voice caught our attention.

- "David and I will go to the scene. I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this."

We all nodded right away. No one had other plans. And after those words, Hotch and Rossi were out of the hospital, and we were left waiting for Penelope to come back from surgery.

- "How are you?"- Reid whispered and handed me a new cup of coffee.

- "Scared. You?"

- "Me too"

- "Who could ever want to hurt Penny? She is adorable,"- I murmured and shook my head.

- "We are gonna find whoever did this"- Spencer held my hand and cut me the warmest smile. I nodded and looked at Derek, who stood up from his chair for the hundredth time and walked to Penelope's room to see if she was ok.

- "In case we ever fight, I want you to know I will always forgive you,"- I murmured in Spencer's ear and rested my head on his shoulder.

- "Should I be worried?"- he asked me, and I just shook my head.

- "I just wanted you to know that you will always be my best friend, Spencer Walter Reid. No matter what happens between us."

And I meant every word back then. I had no idea what was coming ahead and how much things would change within a few months.

Spencer's point of view

The attack against Penelope hit us all hard. She had been shot by the same man who had invited her out for dinner. The one she and Derek had had a fight about.

Of course, Morgan was the one who was more affected by the whole situation. I tried to comfort him, and he nearly killed me. I knew Derek didn't mean to be mean. He was just losing it and feeling overwhelmingly guilty about everything going on. He was in hell, and you could tell. I didn't want to think what it would be like to be in his place. If anything ever happened to (Y/N) and I wasn't there to help her, I would go crazy. So I understood how Derek felt and did my best to be supportive.

Those days also made it pretty evident Rossi was still shocked we were such close friends and team members at the same time. I know he was friends with Gideon, but the fact our friendship surprised him so much made me wonder how close they really were.

It didn't get better when we were all asked to stop working on the case after Hotch found an encrypted file in Garcia's system, and she ended up suspended. That's who we found out how the FBI had recruited her.

Morgan and I were at the hospital with Penelope when Hotch gave her the news and heard the story of her hackers days. Something that I bet she didn't really want us to know about her.

- "After my parents died, I... kind of went off the rails for a while. I dropped out of Cal Tech. I lived underground, basically. But I kept teaching myself code. It was like the one thing that kept me together. In the way, the bureau decided to keep an eye on me, I guess... Did you know they keep track of hackers?"

Neither Morgan nor I opened our mouths. We couldn't, 'cos we were processing the whole information.

- "They do, of the ones who have the skill to be either extremely useful or a potential menace."

- "So they offered you a job?"- I asked her, and she simply nodded- "Like Frank Abagnale. The bureau figured if you can't beat 'em, hire 'em."

- "Yeah. Something like that."

- "Garcia, what's on the encrypted file?"- Derek crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her, waiting to hear nothing but the truth.

- "I'm required to keep a record of everything the team does. And after my system got hacked and Elle got shot, I just didn't want anyone else to be able to get at you."

- "We'll talk to the doctor, see if he'll clear you to leave,"- I whispered and left the room, just in time to get JJ's call to announce we were officially off the case. It wasn't good, and it wasn't getting any better at all.

In a way, the fact we were all such good friends wasn't as beneficial to the case as it could be. It all came clear later that night. Penelope was attacked again, this time in her own house. Unfortunately, a cop was killed in the process, and if it weren't for Morgan, who insisted on crashing her couch that night, Penelope would have been dead too.

We were all at her house at three in the morning. We wanted to take her to the BAU and keep her safe, though we all knew it would be hard to explain to the authorities, all things considered. We were all just talking about what had just happened when Garcia started remembering more details about her date with her attacker, and we decided to ask more questions about it in case she could give us more info that might lead us to him.

- "Tell us about the car,"- I told her and sat in front of her.

- "Why?"

- "Just go with him"- Morgan smiled at her and nodded, trying to reassure her everything was ok. It wasn't, not even close.

- "You said it was white, 4-door, American. What else?"- I asked Penelope, but she shook her head, confused.

- "That's it. It was just a car."

- "No, come on, think. Anything. Go back."- Morgan held her hand. We could tell she was trying her best to cooperate, and he was making his best effort to be sweet and calm, considering he was losing it to catch the asshole who hurt her.

- "The seat belt was buckled behind his back. Why does that matter?"- and that was progress.

- "It wasn't a rental. It was for surveillance,"- Derek explained to her.

- "Agents don't wear seat belts. They need to get out in a hurry"- (Y/N) added and was about to add something else when Rossi walked across the room and sat in front of Penelope.

- "All right, let's cut the crap. You need to be straight with us. Right now!"- she wide opened her eyes in shock and turned to Morgan- "Look at me, not them!"- Rossi commanded.

- "I'm not hiding anything,"- Garcia whispered, astonished.

- "You got shot. Most people get shot for a reason,"- she tried to look at Derek again- "Eyes here!"

- "Ease up, Rossi!"- Morgan shouted when David raised his voice, scaring everybody in that room.

- "You got a roomful of people here willing to believe that an FBI agent has tried to kill you. We need to know everything you do on company time that we don't know about!"

Rossi yelled on her face, pushing her to tell the truth, and Garcia nearly started crying.

- "What?"

- "Come on, man!"- I guess we were all waiting for Derek to lose it and punch him.

- "It's nothing bad!"- Penelope yelled, and every eye in the room turned to her.

- "Spit it out!"- David pushed her again.

- "It's... I counsel victims' families, and they know where I work, so sometimes they ask me to look into cases for them."

- "What does that mean?"- Rossi frowned and kept his eyes on hers.

- "It just means that the cases, the unsolved ones, I tag them, so whoever's investigating them knows that the FBI considers them a priority."

- "You're not authorized to do that"- Hotch's voice was as severe as kind, which surprised us all. Rossi the most, I guess, 'cos he stood up and turned around.

- "I know. I was just trying to help."- Garcia whispered, fighting the tears back.

- "But whoever's working those cases thinks you're watching them,"- (Y/N) said in a softer voice, probably to explain to Garcia how the whole situation had ended up with her being shot.

- "I just wanted to put pressure on them so that they don't slide,"- Penelope excused herself.

- "How many cases are we talking about?"- Hotch asked.

- "I don't know. 7, 8 maybe. I need to get into my system."

- "You can't. You're suspended,"- Hotch reminded her, though it sounded more like "you are grounded."

- "Wait a minute,"- Morgan interrupted the conversation- "Garcia, on your date, you said this guy was pressing you to find out if you were working murder cases. Hotch, we gotta look at those files."

Hotch looked at David, who was still as pissed as earlier. I don't think neither of us had ever seen him acting like it.

- "I told you, I'm sick of this jagoff being in front of us,"- Rossi said to him, and Aaron nodded.

- "Dave's right. We'll go back to the BAU. Morgan, Reid, (Y/N), Prentiss, you stay here and make sure no one forgets to log out of the system. Garcia should not have access."

We all stayed in her living room as Garcia walked to her room and hacked her own system. At the other side of the screen, Kevin Lynch, the analyst of another FBI department, was fighting back, trying to protect the files, and losing the fight after a few minutes.

Later on, (Y/N) explained to me that was how they met and finally how they fell in love. I guess everything happens for a reason, after all.

We didn't catch the bad guy that day. Instead, JJ was forced to kill him. It was the very first time she shot anyone, and surprisingly, she wasn't as shook up as we all imagined she might be.

- "You do whatever it takes to protect your family,"- she said when Penelope asked her if she was ok.

And she was right. That's how we all felt for each other at that point. And somehow, we all knew we were going to prove it, sooner or later.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I had been part of the BAU for almost three years already when it happened. And I felt so stupid 'cos we had all had a rough couple of weeks, and the last thing anyone needed was another worry. We had just gotten over the whole Penelope issue; having another member of the team injured was the worst thing that could happen.

But it did.

I got shot.

We were after our unsub. George Flemming. The bastard had killed four women in less than a month, convinced God had sent him to Earth to get rid of sin. We had been after him for two whole weeks until we finally got him. But I was stupid and reckless and didn't wait for backups. I wanted to catch that mother fucker, 'cos the way he had killed those women made me madder than I had ever been with an unsub before. That's too dangerous. You can't lose yourself in a case, 'cos you lose your objectivity. You risk your life every day in this job, but that specific day, I put mine on a silver platter.

We were supposed to wait for backup. I was just checking the perimeter, searching for the unsub. Spencer was with me, but he stayed behind for a second, trying to contact Garcia to run the plate number of a car we found hidden in a barn. I should have waited for him, but I couldn't stay still and do nothing when I heard a woman screaming for help. I had to run and try to save her. I wasn't going to let George kill yet another innocent woman and get away with it. He had to pay.

- "FBI! Freeze!"- I shouted as I walked into the last room of the house and found George holding close and pointing a gun at a woman who was covered in blood and bruises but still very much alive. Which, I must say, was a relief.

- "Stay away!! I'll shoot her!! I swear I'm gonna shoot her!!"

The unsub was sweating cold; he looked sick and weak. He looked like I could definitely take him down in a fight.

- "George! Put down the gun!"- I commanded and didn't move my eyes from him.

- "You put your gun down!"

- "I am sorry, George, but I can't do that!"- I answered- "Now let her go and put the gun down before anyone else gets hurt."

- "I don't have to listen to a whore like you! Who do you think you are? Giving me commands? You are evil!! Evil!"- he shouted, clearly losing control.

- "(Y/N), where the hell are you?!"- I heard Reid asking in the earpiece, and I just shook my head.

- "That's all you've got, George? Hiding women in the back of your house and threatening them with your gun? That makes your God proud?"

- "Shut up!! You bring disgrace to Earth! You should be punished too!!"- I took a step closer slowly and shook my head.

- "You are going to be punished, George. For killing innocent women."

- "Innocent? What makes you think they didn't deserve it?"

- "What makes you think you are the one to judge them?"

I kept my gun pointed at him, but I couldn't take a shot 'cos he grabbed the victim and kept her close to him, like a shield.

- "There's a special place in hell for whores like you!"- he announced, and suddenly, all I could feel was pain. There was a second gunshot, and George was down. I took a look around and saw Morgan still pointing his gun at him from outside the room, as Spencer and Prentiss ran inside, and he moved to me and held me close.

- "Medic!! We need a medic!!"- Reid yelled frantically through the speaker- "(Y/N)! How do you feel?"

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- I whispered in the most excruciating pain I had ever felt in my entire life- He just shot my shoulder, nothing important.

But the way Spencer looked at me, I swear that no one has ever looked at me the same until this day.

- "Don't move!"- he commanded, though his voice was soft and gentle. Prentiss took care of checking George's body. He was clearly dead. She liberated his last hostage and helped her to the ambulance while Reid stayed by my side until a doctor appeared.

- "Why didn't you wait for me?"- Spencer asked as they took me to the ambulance.

- "She needed help"- that was all I could say.

- "Please, try not to talk,"- the paramedic commanded and got me into the ambulance, followed closely by Reid.

- "I'm coming with her."

My best friend wasn't asking for permission. He was informing the medical team he wasn't going anywhere else. And by the tone of his voice, it was clear no one was ever going to change his mind.

- "That was so stupid, chipmunk,"- Spencer whispered and held my hand in our way to the nearest hospital. The paramedics kept pressing my shoulder to stop the bleeding, and I just closed my eyes 'cos honestly, it hurt too much to process what was going on.

- "I am so sorry I wasn't there with you, chipmunk."

- "It's ok, honey,"- I mumbled- "You are right. I was stupid. This is my fault."

- "Please, don't talk,"- the paramedic commanded again, and I just shut up 'cos the pain was too much.

Spencer stayed by my side the whole time. After we reached the hospital, the paramedics took me to the ER, where a doctor cleaned my wound and took out the bullet from my shoulder.

It was a clean wound, and luckily, no arteries were hit. I just got some stitches and a sling, plus a few painkillers I really didn't want to take, 'cos after Spencer's experience with drugs, I was scared of painkillers.

- "Thank you,"- I whispered to the nurse who helped me get dressed and walked out of the room to find Spencer filling up the medical forms and Morgan and Prentiss waiting for me

- "How are you feeling, princess?"- Derek asked and caressed my cheek.

- "Like a virgin"- I sang the Madonna song- "Shot for the very first time"- and though Emily chuckled, Spencer didn't think it was funny.

- "I can't believe you think this is something to joke about!"- Reid frowned, upset.

- "Calm down, honey. I'm ok, I'm alive. It was just a shot on the shoulder."

- "Just? Just a shot in the shoulder?"- and Spencer freaked out- "Did you know some of the larger vessels of the human body run through the shoulder? The subclavian artery and vein, which by the way, are the basic blood supply to the upper extremity."

- "I'm sorry, honey bunny. I shouldn't have said that."- I whispered and tried to calm him down, 'cos I knew precisely the kind of man Spencer could be when he was mad and stressed.

- "The brachial plexus is also located in the shoulder, and it's the primary nerve supply to the upper extremity as well,"- he added and didn't take his eyes from the form he was filling.

- "I understand,"- I added, but he didn't stop.

- "You should also know that the shoulder is a very complex spheroid joint, and if it's injured, it can lead to lifelong disability."

I stood in front of Spencer and placed my movable hand on his chest. That forced him to stop writing and look at me.

- "I'm sorry I got hurt. It was a mistake. I didn't mean to make you mad at me or worry. I am ok, I am here, and I promise I won't do something as stupid and reckless as this ever again. Ok?"

Spencer looked at me and sighed. Morgan and Prentiss were still there by our side, and I had the feeling that stopped my friend from saying what was in his mind. Instead, he nodded and cut me a short smile.

- "Good. Can we go home now?"- I asked, and Morgan grabbed my bag immediately.

- "The jet is waiting, pretty girl. Let's go."

The flight back home was too long. It was only a four hours flight from Fargo to Quantico. But it felt eternal. Besides, I kept doing my best to act cool and in zero pain, in a poor attempt not to worry Spencer. Little did I know, no matter what, he would be worried sick anyway.

- "I was on the phone with Frank,"- he announced and sat in front of me with a cup of hot chocolate.

- "Please don't tell me you called to tell him I got shot,"- Spencer stared at me and cut me a short smile. I closed my eyes and groaned- "Did he go nuts?"

- "No, I started by telling him you were alright."

- "Thank you,"- I whispered and sipped the cup he had prepared for me just the way I liked it, even with the little marshmallows.

- "Your mom went bonkers, though."

- "You called my mom?!"- I shouted, and everybody in the team turned around and looked at us- "Why did you do that?"- Spencer looked at me surprised and frowned.

- "You just got shot, chipmunk. Of course, I'm gonna tell your mom!"

- "But she is going to overreact!"

- "She won't! We already talked. She said she'd stop tomorrow by your apartment to have lunch."

- "Tomorrow, I'll be at work for lunch,"- I frowned, and I swear I wanted to cross my arms on my chest, but I couldn't, 'cos... I have been shot.

- "You won't be back to work until next week,"- Aaron announced from his seat, overhearing the conversation.

- "But Hotch! I'm ok!"

- "Spencer is correct. You just got shot. Take the rest of the week,"- I groaned and frowned at my boss.

- "I can still do my paperwork."- I can't believe I was begging not to get days off from work.

- "You do realize most people don't argue when their bosses give them a few days off, right princess?"- Derek took off his headphones and asked, frowning.

- "But I'm not injured,"- I argued, but I knew I was losing that fight.

- "Chipmunk, may I remind you, you just got shot!"- Spencer looked at me, annoyed.

- "But I'm fine! Look at me! I can dance!"- I was about to stand up and do a little dance, but Reid stopped me. He literally grabbed my good arm and kept me on my seat.

- "It's Wednesday. You just have to stay home Thursday and Friday. And I'll be there, making sure you won't do anything stupid."

I looked at Spencer and groaned one more time.

- "There's no way out of this, (Y/N). You are hurt, and I'm gonna take care of you."

- "Will you cook?"- I whispered and pouted, defeated. And Spencer chuckled, blushing.

- "I will definitely call and ask for your favorite food"- I tried not to smile and shook my head.

- "Oh no, no. If you wanna take the lead and take care of me, you will have to do the whole job and cook, Spencer Walter Reid."- I teased him, and his cheeks turned blood red in less than a minute.

- "Fine,"- he whispered, narrowing his eyes.

- "I can give you my carbonara a la Rossi recipe,"- David said to Spencer from his seat- "Guaranteed to heal all wounds, and special to cheer up your girlfriend, kid."

Everybody stayed quiet at the same time. I wide opened my eyes, shocked, and looked at Spencer, whose cheeks were burning red.

- "She... (Y/N) is not my girlfriend,"- Spencer mumbled and avoided looking at me for a few seconds. Rossi chuckled and turned to us.

- "You call each other cute nicknames, you are always together, you argue like I did with my first wife..."

- "No"- I shook my head and did my best to ignore Derek's teasing comments and Emily's laughter.

- "Well, you could have fooled me,"- David smiled at me, and I didn't know what to answer. I frowned and looked at Spencer, who somehow was even more blushed than he had been a moment earlier.

- "I'm driving you, by the way,"- he whispered, and I didn't really have the strength to argue against that, so I just nodded and sighed.

Spencer's point of view

I thought I was going to die when I saw (Y/N) lying on the floor, blood coming from her shoulder. Time passed in slow motion, like a movie cliché. I ran to her, and I didn't know if the perimeter had been secured. I had no idea if the unsub was dead. I would have killed him myself if I hadn't been focused on (Y/N).

Then she smiled and assured me she was ok. But that wasn't enough for me. Her face was so pale, though her smile was shining bright. So I held her and called a medic. She was in pain, and I didn't know what to do to help her.

I held her hand the whole ride to the hospital and stayed by her side in the ER while the doctor cleaned her wound and put some stitches on it. Then I walked with her to the jet, and the whole time I made my best and biggest effort to stay calm. But once we were on the air, on our way back home, I couldn't hold it back anymore. I could feel the tears fighting their way out, no matter how much I tried to keep them inside.

So I did what seemed more logical and locked myself in the backroom. I needed a minute to put myself together again before I had to continue pretending I didn't nearly lose the woman I love that day. So I washed my face and let the water run through my fingers for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down. But I failed, and the tears started falling down my cheeks anyway.

I rested my back against the door and slowly slipped down to the floor until I was sitting, hugging my legs, crying my heart out.

I knew why I was crying. It was a weird mix of fear and relief. I was scared to lose (Y/N), and at the same time, relieved nothing terrible had happened to her. I had to convince myself it was all ok, that she was there on the plane with me, hopefully trying to get some rest.

- "Spence?"- I heard JJ's voice at the other side of the door, and I quickly stood up and washed my face saying, "In a minute." I looked at my reflex. My eyes were puffed, my cheeks were red. There was no way I could ever convince anyone I hadn't been crying.

- "Can you open the door?"

- "There's another bathroom, JJ,"- I said and closed my eyes.

- "I need to talk to you."

- "I'm kind of busy here..."

- "Spence, please"- she begged, and I gave up, only because I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone. No one at the BAU seems to understand the concept of personal space.

I opened the door and let her in. The bathroom was too small for the two of us, and I didn't want to think of all the teasing I would get from Morgan if he saw us locked in there. JJ smiled and handed me a cup of coffee. I just sipped it carefully, 'cos it was very hot, and looked at my hands, avoiding eye contact.

- "Why were you crying?"- she whispered and stood against the wall in front of me.

- "I wasn't,"- I lied, but she just raised an eyebrow, and I knew it was useless to deny it- "It was a hard day, and I needed to decompress somehow."

- "Was it because of (Y/N)?"- she simply asked, and I just nodded- "It wasn't your fault, Spence."

- "I should have been there. But I stayed behind, on the phone with Garcia checking the plate of a car that didn't even matter at the end."

- "You were doing your job, and so was she."

- "But I should have done my job better, 'cos something bad might have happened to her, and I would have never forgiven myself,"- JJ nodded and reached out for one of my hands. I tried not to look at her but failed.

- "Are you going to tell her how you feel?"

- "Telling her I feel guilty she got injured won't stop her from being reckless,"- but JJ shook her head.

- "No, Spence. I'm talking about you telling her you are in love with her."

I widened my eyes and stayed still, shocked, blushed. JJ cut me a short smile and probably tried to soothe me, 'cos I immediately got all defensive.

- "What... what are you talking about? I am not in love with (Y/N),"- I whispered and prayed no one outside that bathroom had heard her.

- "Spencer, there is nothing wrong with being in love. I actually think you two would make a cute couple."

- "No, JJ, no. I am not in love with her."

- "Spence, I'm not a profiler, but you are not that hard to read. I can see the way you look at her."

- "She is my best friend."

- "But you love her,"- JJ sentenced, and I just sighed- "It's not wrong to have feelings for someone, Spence. I am sure she feels the same way too."

- "We are just friends. That's it. Thanks for the coffee,"- I added and opened the door.

I walked out of the bathroom in a rush. To avoid talking with anyone on the plane, I called Frank and told him what had happened. I also asked him for Mrs. (Y/L/N) phone number and explained the facts too. She was so scared it took me a while to calm her down.

- "I'm going to stay with her tonight,"- I said and looked at (Y/N) at the other side of the yet. She hadn't slept at all, and I knew she had to rest.

- "Thank you, Spencer. I'll be in Virginia tomorrow. I'm visiting Phoenix in New York this week."

- "Don't worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), I'll take care of her."

- "You are the sweetest man she could have met,"- she whispered before hanging down, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew it too.

Apparently, I wasn't hiding my feelings for (Y/N) very well. If JJ could see it, maybe anyone else could. And after what Rossi said, I didn't know if I was busted or not. I didn't know anything. (Y/N) seemed to be as shocked as I pretended to be, so I guess I felt safe. But I knew I had to watch my back now.

Of course, planning to stay with her that night didn't make it easier for me at all.

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- she argued and sat carefully on her couch- "You don't have to stay here with me."

- "I'm sorry, chipmunk, but you were shot. There is nothing on Earth that's gonna make me leave you alone right now."

- "Fine, then help me take a shower,"- she simply said, and I widened my eyes. I know I even held my breath at that. I stared at her from the kitchen door, on my way to make her a cup of tea.

- "Well, in that case, I, I will do... I will do whatever you need to help you,"- I whispered and made my best not to stutter. She shook her head and sighed.

- "I was bluffing, honey. But I mean it, you don't have to stay and take care of me. I'll be fine. Just go home and rest,"- but all I could do was walk to the kitchen and put on the kettle.

- "I'm not going anywhere, so... how do you feel about that carbonara a la Rossi recipe?"

- "Spencer Walter Reid, you don't cook."

- "I do cook! Do you think I've lived on take-outs and coffee all these years?"

- "Hell yeah!"- she said and chuckled. She was right, though. I wasn't the best or more experienced cooker on Earth. But for her, I could try.

- "I tell you what. What if you take a bath and relax, I'll cook you dinner, and then we'll watch a movie? Anything you pick."

- "Anything?"- she raised an eyebrow and stared at me so sweetly and concentrated, I nearly stopped breathing. I didn't trust myself with an answer, so I just nodded and looked at her. Her cheeks were blushing, and that made me feel better. Clearly, she was relaxing at home. The color was coming back to her after being hurt. That was always a good sign.

- "Even my favorite chick flick?"- (Y/N) bit her lips and caught my full attention with that simple movement. I nodded again, not really thinking what she meant with "chick flicks." All I could think of were her lips and how incredibly soft they looked.

- "Even Pride and Prejudice?"- she added, and I nodded again.

- "It's an essential piece of literature. Jane Austen was an incredible writer,"- my voice was muffled, and her eyes were shining- "Did you know In 1802, in her late 20s, Austen briefly accepted a proposal from Harris Bigg-Wither, the younger brother of two of her close friends? She rescinded it the following day."

- "Yes, neither her nor her sister ever married"- (Y/N) added, and her eyes moved from mine, traveling around the room- "She believed that a woman shouldn't get married if she wasn't in love. She once advised her niece Fanny Knight that "anything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without affection."

Somehow, (Y/N)'s eyes were blurry with sadness all of a sudden. Her words stopped. I was tempted to hold her hands that rested on her lap but stopped myself. I was scared to give too much away, and that she suspected how I felt about her. I didn't want her thinking I was in love with her. Don't get me wrong, I was. I am. And I know I will always love her. But that night on that couch, I was afraid of her rejection and scared she might have stopped being my friend if she ever knew how I really felt about her.

- "Maybe you are right, honey,"- (Y/N) whispered and slowly stood up- "I'll take that bath after all."

- "Watch those stitches"- I quickly stood up too and just nodded, looking at her as she started walking towards her room- "I'll cook dinner meanwhile."

- "Thank you, honey bunny,"- she said and turned around just to cut me a small smile before disappearing into her bedroom.

I made my best effort with dinner. I followed Rossi's instructions to the letter. (Y/N) had a lot of food in her fridge. Unlike me, she actually cooked her own meals. She was right about me and the take-outs. I had never been a great cook, and I trusted my local Thai place with most of my dinners. But that night was different.

Pasta carbonara was pretty good, I must say. (Y/N) opened a bottle of wine, though I told her it was a horrible idea mixing drinking with the pain killers she was prescribed.

- "I am actually not taking them,"- she whispered and took a sip of red.

- "You had a major injure on that shoulder (Y/N)."

- "It's just five stitches, honey. I don't need those pills. I actually didn't even get them,"- she replied. I looked at her in awe, thinking she was way stronger than she even gave herself credit for.

- "In that case, you can have two glasses of wine and extra dessert,"- I stated, and she chuckled.

We ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I guess the two of us were pretty tired that night. It had been a long day, a long case, and though neither of us wanted to deal with it, we knew things could have easily gone wrong.

After eating, I cleaned the dishes and prepared a tray with a cup of herbal tea for (Y/N), a coffee for me, and two bowls of ice cream, and we cuddled on the couch to watch Pride and Prejudice. She whispered most of the lines and argued against Darcy for half of the movie. But by the end, she snuggled closer to me, and I wrapped an arm around her carefully, trying not to get near her shoulder at all. Her head was resting on my chest, and I could feel her sighing with each word that Darcy spoke.

- "What is it with you and this book?"- I asked her suddenly. She huffed and looked at me with a cut, short smile.

- "I don't know, but I've been obsessing with Darcy and Lizy ever since I first read the story. I guess the classic "fools in love" story is my weakness. How couldn't they see how much they loved each other from day one?"

My mouth fell open, but I didn't say a word. She just smiled and turned to the screen again. That was good. I didn't want her to see how flustered I was.

- "Darcy knew he loved her, but he tried to fall out of love with her, and she was completely blinded by her so-called "hate" towards him to deal with her real feelings."- (Y/N) added- "I know that's not a complex and complete study of the story but in a short version of the whole plot... I guess that's what's so endearing and addictive about it. Everyone has been Darcy or Lizzy."

- "I doubt most people can relate with having four sisters and an obsessive nervous mother who keeps forcing you to get married,"- I joked, and (Y/N) giggled.

- "You'd be surprised, honey,"- she sighed and snuggled closer. My hand played with her hair for a few more minutes until the end of the movie.

- "(Y/N)?"- I whispered when we were already in bed. I wore the pajamas I kept in my go bag and crawled into bed with her as soon as she asked me to sleep with her. Ee had done it before, it wasn't weird, and we were best friends.

There was absolutely nothing friendly with how I felt, though. But I had to put all those feelings in a box and hide them deep inside of me 'cos they were no good for our relationship.

- "What happens, Spencer?"

- "I just wanted to tell you... you scared me today,"- she sighed. We were already hugged, but she snuggled closer and kissed my cheek softly.

- "I'm sorry, Spencer. I'll be more careful, I promise."

It was such a simple promise, and I knew though she meant well, the job was always going to get in the way. Our lives were always on the line working at the BAU. And no matter how much we wanted to take care of ourselves, sometimes things were out of our control.

- "Promise me you'll be careful too,"- she whispered, and I leaned over to kiss the top of her head gently.

- "I promise I'll be careful, chipmunk."

- "Will you always come home to me?"- she whispered and sighed, dozing off.

- "Always. I love you so much, (Y/N)"- that last confession fell from my lips before I could even realize what I was saying.

- "I love you too, honey,"- she answered, her voice muffled against my chest.

I stayed still, trying to burn in my memory every second of that moment, 'cos I knew it was going to be one of my most precious memories until my last day.

–

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561

–

Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: June 9th, 2021

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

[elliesguitarstrings]

Ok ok ok so how about this! Reader is scared of horror movies and spiders! Like shit scared and Peter constantly teases her about it (her knowing about Spider-Man is up to you). So one day him, reader, mj, Ned are having a sleepover at peters and during the horror movie reader gets scared n screams..and Peter teases her again so she gets hurt and runs to his room. He goes after her to apologise but then tells her not to turn around or something and reader thinks he’s just teasing her again and wants to walk away but then peter just kisses her! Cause there was actually a spider behind her and Peter panicked cause he didn’t want reader to get scared again.

Cue Ned n mj being so happy cause they finally confessed and end up embarrassing Peter.

This is so specific sorry but thank you🥺❤️

this is so cute!!! i wrote this really quickly so sorry if there are some typos :/

~~~~~~~~

“Okay guys, what should we watch?” Peter asks as he crawls out from the makeshift pillow fort in his living room.

You, Ned, MJ, and Peter were all spending the night at his house. Seeing as it’s already the middle of the night and you’re all extremely tired, you decided to watch a movie before you go to bed.

MJ smirks, “We should watch It!” This earns nods of approval from everyone... well everyone except for you.

“Absolutely not!” you deadpan, “I am not watching a scary movie before I go to seep. No way.”

Ned laughs, “Come on Y/N, it’s more funny than scary. Plus it’s not even that scary anyways, you’re such a baby.”

“Am not! I just don’t like scary movies!”

“Y/N, you made me turn off A Bug’s Life because you were too freaked out that the bugs were talking. You’re a baby.” Peter chuckles.

“I just don’t like bugs okay? Sue me!”

“Yeah I’m surprised she still lets you hang around since you’re Spiderman Peter. Hey Y/N did you know he can summon an army of spiders whenever he wants?” Ned jokes.

You’re eyes go wide, “What? Peter is that true? Please tell me that’s a joke.”

“Oh no it’s not a joke, I can control all spiders. Actually, why don’t I get some to come over here right now?”

You shriek, “Nononono! Peter don’t please don’t!”

Ned, Peter, and MJ all burst out laughing. “He can’t actually do that Y/N, he was just being stupid.” MJ giggles.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, though you’re extremely embarrassed. You did just kind of prove their point that you were scared of basically everything. You know that they’re just joking around, but it still hurts your feelings a little.

“You know what,” you announce, “let’s watch It, who cares if it’s scary.”

Peter raises his eyebrows, “Oh, are you sure? We really don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine. I want to. Let’s do it.” You don’t actually want to watch it. But you do want to prove your friends wrong. So you’re just going to have to push through for this one.

“Well okay then, guess we’re watching It!” Peter grabs the remote and turns on the movie, crawling back to his spot next to you.

Already you’re hating this. Even the intro has creepy music that puts you on edge. The movie hasn’t even properly started yet and it’s still freaking you out. You snuggle deeper into your spot on the couch and hope that you are able to fall asleep before any of the really scary parts. You figure that nothing super scary will happen in the first ten minutes, so as long as you drift off before then you’re fine.

Unfortunately, you’re very wrong. Not even five minutes into the movie and there’s already a creepy clown pulling a kid into a sewer. You aren’t expecting it, and the jump scare makes you scream. You bury your head in the pillow, trying to get the terrifying image of Pennywise the clown out of your head.

Instead of comforting you or making sure you’re okay, your friends just laugh.

“Hey, guys, maybe we should turn this off I think it’s a little too much for baby Y/N here.” Peter chokes out in between laughs.

“Yeah, maybe we need to turn on a Disney movie instead.” Ned adds.

“I don’t know guys, the villains can be pretty scary, that might even be too much for her!” MJ giggles.

You’ve had enough. You don’t want to spend any more time with your friends tonight if all they’re going to do is make fun of you. You throw your blanket off and stand up from the couch carefully as not to knock the fort down. You quickly crawl out from under it and storm off to Peter’s room leaving your friends in silence. You slam the door shut, but question when you don’t hear it click. You spin around to see Peter holding the door open, staring at you.

“Peter, go away, I don’t want to hear you make fun of me anymore.”

He slips into the room and closes the door behind him. “I’m not here to make fun of you, I promise.” he pauses. “Y/N I’m sorry, we were just trying to poke fun, we weren’t trying to hurt your feelings. Well, at least I wasn’t, I cant speak for Ned and MJ but Im sure they weren’t either.”

“Well it wasn’t funny Peter. I get that you think of me as a baby because I’m scared of everything but I can’t help it. The least you could do is make sure I’m okay.”

“I know, and again I’m really sorry for not doing that. It was stupid of me to make fun of you and I should have just turned on another movie. I hate seeing you hurt and now I can’t even tell you how bad I feel.”

You can tell that he’s being genuine and that he truly feels bad, so you decide to forgive him. He is your best friend after all, he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you. “It’s okay Pete, that you for apologizing.” you smile.

“Oh thank god. I thought you were gonna be mad at me forever.” He rushes towards you and engulfs you in a big hug, nestling his face in your neck. “I swear it won’t happen again.”

You giggle, “Thank you Pete, but can we please go back out there and watch a different movie?”

He looks up at you, his arms still wrapped around your middle, “Oh, yeah sure.” He pulls away from you slowly and you start to turn around towards the door to head back out until his eyes widen. “DONT TURN AROUND!”

You’re taken aback, staring at Peter with furrowed brows. “Huh?”

He looks at you sternly, “Don’t. Turn. Around.”

You sigh, “Peter come on, we just talked about this. I told you not to make fun of me like that anymore. You promised.”

“I’m not joking. Seriously don’t look behind you.”

“Oh my god Peter you’re too much.” You start to turn around to head back out when he grabs your arm harshly, pulling you towards him. Before you know it, his lips are on yours and his arms are back around your waist.

Holy shit. You’re best friend is kissing you. The boy you’ve liked for years is literally kissing you!

Before you get the chance to really kiss him back, he pulls away. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to do that I just didn’t know how else to make you not turn around so I kissed you and I shouldn’t have done it and now I’ve messed everything up and-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his once again, this time truly getting to kiss him. You wrap you arms around his neck with his still snaked around your waist. He pulls you impossibly closer and your lips move in sync, as if they were made for each other. You finally pull away when you run out of breath, your forehead resting against Peter’s.

“Woah.” he whispers.

“Yeah.”

“So I take it that you like me back?” Peter asks.

You giggle, pressing another quick peck on his lips, “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Awesome.” he pauses, looking behind you at the door. “There’s a spider behind you by the way.”

“What?” you freak out, jumping up and forcing Peter to catch you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Peter laughs, “I did! But you insisted that I was just joking. So I had to kiss you instead.”

“Oh. Well, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry. I got to kiss you.” Peter smirks causing you to blush. “Can I put you down now so I can take are of this spider?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

He captures the spider and throws it out the window, not wanting to kill it. You both walk back to the living room hand in hand to see a giggling Ned and MJ.

“I was wondering how long that was gonna take for you to finally get together.” MJ smirks.

You blush, “How did you-”

“We heard everything, including you screaming about the spider.” Ned laughs.

“Shut up!” you giggle.

“Whatever, just please don’t be making out in our fort while Ned and I are trying to sleep. At least get a room.”

You and Peter blush, but MJ and Ned usher you over into the fort. Peter sits down and you snuggle in his lap, his arms wrapped around you to keep you warm. Much to your chagrin, MJ turns It back on, but Peter’s warmth lulls you to sleep quickly and you miss the majority of the movie, sleeping comfortably in his arms.

[ask-college-patrochilles]

Pat: It's... a long story.

The first thing Pat notices as he comes out of the shower are the voices coming from the kitchen. It isn't exactly strange considering he lived with Achilles and they'd invited Bri over for the night. He and Bri didn't hang out like they used to, with both students caught up in the senior year and post-graduation plans. It had been nice to catch up, to have Pat's two favorite people together with him at the same time.

But the second thing he realizes is how hushed they are. Achilles never mutters, always keen to shout what's on his mind, and Bri certainly doesn't whisper to Pat's boyfriend on the regular.

He knows it's wrong- they're both so important to him, he could just… walk out and ask what's up- but Pat can't help himself. Quickly, he dries off his hair and discards the towel as quietly as possible into the laundry room. There's a wall separating the hallway to his bedroom and the bathroom from the kitchen. Pat presses his back against it and strains to listen.

There's the sound of the coffee machine running, almost loud enough to drown out Bri's question. "I wanted to know how you and Pat are doing," she says, followed by the pouring of coffee into a cup.

Achilles snorts. "I would think you guys have already talked about that." Always defensive, even when he doesn't need to be. It makes Pat's chest ache.

"Yeah, but I want to hear it from you." One of the chairs scrapes against the floor, and Pat assumes Bri takes a seat. "You're your own person. You might see things differently."

Pat isn't sure why, but he holds his breath for his boyfriend's answer. Everything has been… mundane, really. Nothing special. Achilles is like an extension of Pat: they always know what the other is thinking, are always able to finish each other's sentences. More often than not they're together, Achilles leaning against him or holding his hand.

"We're good," Achilles finally replies. "Really good." Pat deflates in relief. "You'd think by now we'd be sick of each other or stepping on each other's toes, but…"

"But?" Bri prods.

"But I still always want to be by his side." Bri makes a sound, probably exasperated. "It's cheesy, yeah, but I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Pat closes his eyes with a small smile. Of course they felt the same- Achilles has his entire heart. He'd know if something was off because it would be like his own heart was breaking. There was nothing to worry about.

He's about to walk around the corner to greet them when Achilles continues. "There's just-" He pauses for a long moment. "Can you keep a secret?"

Silence.

"It's nothing bad," Achilles reassures Bri in a rush. "At least, I don't think so, but I don't really know what to think if I'm being honest. It's all so confusing and terrifying and I-"

"Slow down," Bri cuts in. "Tell me what's wrong and maybe I can help."

Achilles takes a deep breath, something Pat has had to drill into his head to do when he's overwhelmed. Hopefully, he's counting to ten in his head like Pat taught him too. They were still working on it. "I love Pat," Achilles starts again. "A lot."

"Okay."

"More than anything. More than… running or school or whatever. He's the most important person to me." The floor creaks, and Pat can only assume he's pacing around the kitchen. Achilles can never sit still when he's anxious. "I'd do anything for him. I'd… I'd eat a whole raw onion for him or fight off sharks. I'd cut off my leg- although I'd probably ask if we could amputate an arm instead since I still want to be a track star-"

"Achilles."

"Right."

Pat's heart races in his chest. He can't tell where this is going, and he hates not knowing what was on Achilles' mind. They're connected at the hip, so why can't he understand what's wrong?

"I guess I'm trying to say I don't think I could ever be with anyone else- actually, scratch that. I know I couldn't."

Bri's nails drum against the tabletop. Click, click, click. "This is all really sweet, but I don't know why you're telling me."

Achilles inhales loud enough for Pat to hear. "I want to be with him for the rest of my life."

A pause. "Okay."

"I want to marry him, Bri."

Pat's eyes widen, and he's surprised his knees don't give out underneath him.

He's always assumed he and Achilles would always be together. After all, they'd been inseparable from the moment they'd met. Even before they were partners, Pat felt whole with Achilles. Their relationship was one that was bound to last.

He just… never exactly thought about proposing or weddings or any of that. They lived together, didn't they? That was practically marriage to Pat. Splitting rent and divvying up chores wasn't for the weak of heart.

Marriage was big. Marriage meant they would spend the rest of their lives together. There'd be a certificate and everything to say they belonged only to each other. There would be anniversaries and a family and growing old together. Pat can't even fathom it- he couldn't even think about what the next week would be like! He lives his life from exam to exam, shift to shift at the hospital.

Bri seems to be on the same track as Pat. "You're both only in your twenties," she points out.

"I want to propose," Achilles says as if he doesn't hear her. "I know I do."

"Now? What about-"

"I already have a ring." Now Pat definitely wants to collapse. He covers his mouth with both hands so he doesn't gasp out loud. This was all happening very fast. The room seems to spin, and he leans his weight against the wall so he doesn't fall over.

"What?" Bri's chair scrapes against the floor. "How long have you had that?"

"A little while."

"Have you talked about any of this with Pat?" Pat could easily answer that question. His racing heart and clammy palms are as good an answer as any. He's sure Achilles shakes his head since Bri sighs loudly. "Don't you think that's sort of important? You don't just pop a proposal out of nowhere."

"You don't?" Achilles sounds genuinely confused. He probably got his entire idea of marriage from movies and television. His parents certainly didn't seem to be much help.

"You have to talk about the future first. Talk about what you both want." Achilles is quiet. He must be frustrated- he hates waiting, and he hates too much serious talk. Pat knows he prefers to wing it. After all, life seemed to go pretty smoothly for him without any prior planning. "If you guys are on the same page, then- and only then- maybe it's time."

Achilles grunts.

"You guys have all the time in the world," Bri reassures him gently. "Pat's not going anywhere. Trust me on that one."

"I don't want to lose him," Achilles says. It shatters Pat's heart to little pieces. How could he ever think Pat would leave him? They were in this for the long run no matter what. They'd grown together as individuals and as a couple, and Pat knew they still had so much more to learn.

It's what finally draws him from his corner. Pat scrunches his hair with his hands like he just came out of the shower as he walks to the kitchen. Bri sits across from Achilles at the table. As soon as she sees Pat, she kicks his boyfriend in the shin to alert him. Achilles turns, and Pat catches him stuffing something small into his pocket.

"There's coffee made if you want some," Bri says. So they didn't realize he'd been listening. Pat seems to be off the hook for now.

"Maybe later." Pat's too overwhelmed at the moment to be anywhere but with Achilles. He wraps an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders and slides into his lap. Achilles gives him a smile and starts to say good morning, but Pat is already kissing him sweetly.

Achilles doesn't kiss back at first. He's too surprised, probably since Pat is never really a functioning human being in the morning before his coffee. But it takes him no time to hold Pat's hips firmly in place and part his lips to welcome Pat's tongue inside. Pat licks into his mouth, tasting maple syrup and sugar and everything Achilles.

Pat loves him. He loves him with his entire being. If Achilles dropped on one knee right now, Pat knows he'd say yes despite any doubts or reservations he might have. Because they'd figure them out together no matter what.

Bri's groaning is what brings Pat back to reality. "Can I please just drink my coffee in peace?" she begs. "One morning where I'm not assaulted by you two? Please?"

Achilles scowls in response. "If you don't like it, don't come over."

"You invited me!"

"Then you should’ve turned down the invite!"

Bri and Achilles bicker about the logistics of sleepovers, but Pat couldn't be happier. He presses his forehead against Achilles' temple and smiles wide. His Achilles, forever.

[daisybeewrites]

July — d.j.

for @dreamcxtcherr ‘s 3k writing challenge. congrats lena!!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mention of car crash/death, mention of alcohol consumption, daisy cries, i think thats it lmk if not!!

ship: R x daisy johnson

okay y’all… first ever anggstttttt!!! i’m way too excited about it. if you want a fully immersive experience, i recommend listening to july by noah cyrus slowed + reverb

(gif uncredited on pinterest (ugh, i hate that. credit a gif if you use it!! im trying to find the owner)) update — found owner

It was another mission. Another nightmarish fire-fight where you almost lost a limb, almost lost a friend, almost lost your life. Twenty-four hours later and you’re back home, safe.

Well, as safe as you can be when your engagement is on the verge of breaking off.

You stare at the simple ring on your left hand. White gold band, a tiny amethyst set to the left of a diamond. There was a nearly identical one lying next to the sink, the only difference being the switched places of the glittering gems.

You know she didn’t do it purposefully. You had both been exhausted after what was supposed to be an in-and-out mission turned into a hostage situation. Daisy did what she always did as soon as you were home — take off her gauntlets, wash her hands in the sink, grab a snack, and hop into a steaming shower.

But you still can’t stop yourself from staring at it, eyes fixed, hands shaking, breath held and mind racing.

You used to join her. You would wash each other’s hair, ease each other’s sore muscles with delicate touches on tender purple-black bruises. She would lean into you, letting you braid her hair and falling asleep in your arms, drifting into a deep slumber. It was intimate, lovely; it was normal and perfect.

Taking a sip of your room-temperature beer, you slide off the cool granite of the kitchen island. You had a new routine after missions now, you just had to get used to it.

You hear the shower shut off, bare feet pad into your cosy bedroom, and the door shut with a loud creak. The minute squeak of the mattress tells you that Daisy flopped into bed.

A ghost of a smile lights your face. It looks more like a grimace, you think, as you check your distorted reflection in the green glass of your beer bottle. Chucking the empty bottle in the recycling, you run a hand through your dirty, salty hair. The comfy sweats you changed into an hour ago would need to be washed, the dirt still adorning your skin rubbing off on the black material. You exhale before heading down the hall towards the bathroom.

The tiled room is filled with steam, the mirror fogged up so that only a blurry outline of your silhouette could be seen. You are unrecognizable.

How fitting.

The quick, cold shower you take does nothing to ease your mind or body. You wipe the mirror in a circle, taking out a first aid kit.

With all your cuts bandaged and the proper creams Jemma had snuck to you and Daisy applied to your fresh bruises, you headed into the hallway in your towel.

Daisy is standing in the kitchen, lilac lounge shorts you bought her last Christmas showing off her tanned and scarred legs. She looks warm and soft, a very different Daisy than the superhero who had broken a mob boss’ legs just hours before. Her hair is wet and in braids. You frown. You always braid her hair.

If she hears you, she doesn’t turn around, so you take a moment to admire her. Ten seconds, that’s all you give yourself. It was a stressful mission, if you stare too long she might snap. From the back, you can’t see the dark circles you know are there, but you can see the tension in her shoulders and the slight tilt of her head as she ponders what to eat.

You say nothing as you go to the bedroom to change. You find a black pair of SHIELD sweats and an old, holey t-shirt you vaguely remember stealing from Fitz. A presence at the doorway catches your attention.

“Hi,” Daisy says tentatively. Your breath caught in your throat, your lungs holding the air captive until Daisy spoke again.

“I missed you.”

Your eyes widened. Maybe tonight wouldn’t end with one of you on the couch, clutching a six pack while the other cried as quietly as possible, tucked into cold, lonely sheets.

“Braiding my hair, I mean,” She clarified. Her fingers twisted together, rigid posture giving away her nerves.

The air felt humid, as if the open window had suddenly sucked all the AC out and let the mid-summer heat in. Your memory flashes to the last time you and Daisy had a normal, happy conversation.

The edges are fuzzy, but the pure joy in Daisy’s chocolate eyes is clear. Fairy lights strung haphazardly around the living room, a movie playing in the background, your lips on hers. Blankets make a ceiling over your head that shut out the rest of the world, this moment was only for you two. You played with the thin metal band on her ring finger, she ran her hands through her hair. Her matching ring scratched your scalp lightly. You both smile as you pull away. You whisper childhood stories, laugh at the funny parts and offer melancholic smiles at the not-so-lighthearted parts. You were happy.

That night you got the call — Lincoln Campbell, yours and Daisy’s best friend, had wrapped his car around a telephone pole coming off of a long shift at the hospital. His blood alcohol was almost .40.

Eggshells littered the house from the time you got back from the funeral. One wrong word, Daisy would snap and spend hours punching a bag until her fingers bled. You would fill those hours with whatever was closer — wine or your car keys. You pulled yourself out of your head, realizing you should answer her.

“I missed it, too,” You breathed.

Daisy made a small, unintelligible noise before collapsing against the door frame. You froze for only a second, your mind racing through possibilities. Was she bleeding internally? Was it her back again? Did she get shot and not notice until now?

You leap over to her, catching her as she crumbles to the hardwood floor.

A quiet sob wracks her chest. Your hands hover over her slouched back, unsure how to comfort her. At this moment, Daisy feels foreign. Her sudden vulnerability alerts you to how she’s been holding her emotions in for god knows how long.

“Daisy…” You start, hesitantly.

Daisy hiccups loudly, another wave of tears washing over her.

“Tell me to leave, I’ll pack my bags,” Daisy cried, “But I don’t, I-I don’t want to lose you!”

Burning tears gather on your lash line, threatening to fall at her words. You never could stand to see Daisy cry.

Your brows furrow slightly in confusion before you realize what Daisy is talking about. After Lincoln’s death, you two had fought increasingly more often until Daisy locked herself away or spent the night at May’s, and you went for drives until your car ran on empty. On those nights, bottles of wine disappeared from the cabinet without a trace.

Daisy sits up, stamping down her sobs, seemingly resigning herself to the fact that you aren’t going to say anything. Her trembling lip and red eyes pierce your heart. The astronomical distance between you two seems atomic now. You reach out quicker than lightning, shushing her cries and rubbing her back.

“Do you want to go?” You asked after a while. Your knees dig uncomfortably into the floor, your shoulder hurts from the ridges in the doorframe.

Daisy sniffles, her hair falling into her face as she looks away. You crane your neck down, carefully tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You know I’m afraid of change, I guess that’s why we’ve stayed the same,” You sigh, your chest constricting and squeezing the broken glass pieces of your heart.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to continue, “But if you want to find a new life, someone who loves you better than I do, darling, I understand.”

Daisy is still frozen, stare burning holes in the floor. You’re glad that the two of you are at home, the poly-tectic adaptive materials hidden between the walls keeping the house from collapsing. By the slight groan of the foundation, you can imagine Daisy could bring down a mountain with the amount of pain she’s in.

Which can only mean one thing.

“I’m not enough,” You stated. It wasn’t a question. You glance down, a glint in the low light cast from the lamp on the bedside table catching your eye. She has her ring on…

Daisy finally, finally shakes her head ‘no’. You let go of a breath, guilt building every second that passes. She isn’t happy. You shouldn’t be happy that she’s staying.

“Feels like a lifetime, we’ve been trying to get by while we’re dying inside,” You say, gently.

Daisy snaps her eyes to yours, a desperation in them you recognize as grief.

“So much of the past year has been consumed by grief. We never took time off, we never talked about it. I’ve done a lot of things wrong, loving you being one,” She whispers.

You nod, there is no denying that you each had a part in getting to where you are now. Delicately, you grab her hand. She squeezes it, a rush of small vibrations traveling up your arm. Your chest flutters at the familiar affection.

“So have I,” You assure her. She gradually falls towards you, exhausted. You let her rest her head on your shoulder, her breath evening out as her arms wrap around you. You feel hot tears flow down your face, fall onto her hair. Slowly, you pull Daisy closer to you.

Hours later, the sun peeks over the top of the mountain range in the distance. You had adjusted the two of you sometime around two a.m., no longer able to feel your legs from how the floor cut off your circulation.

Sometime around three, you had gathered the courage to move Daisy to the bed, trying hard not to wake her. She had only turned over and not let go of your hand.

You haven’t slept at all tonight, thoughts spinning until you force yourself to pause and count to ten, only to repeat the pattern.

You know what you have to do. You know what’s best for the both of you. You’ll leave, pack your bags and find a place to stay until you can scrape up enough money to rent an apartment. You’ll go to therapy, learn to live without Lincoln, without Daisy. Eventually, Daisy will heal, too. You both have the team at your backs, no matter what happens. She would be okay.

But you know you won’t. The fear of losing Daisy, of losing your life, your home, yourself stops you. You can’t move on. You can’t move forward.

You know that the big changes it takes to heal could cost you Daisy. So, you stay the same. You give into fear. You’ll never be enough, never love Daisy right, never quite heal fully — and neither will Daisy. But you still stay.

You’ll always stay the same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ahhhh how was it? did you love it? any feedback? want more? put any thoughts/feelings/questions/concerns in the comments or my ask box!! i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading it even more!!

<<3

[storiesforallfandoms]

sister’s approval ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1415

request?: yes!

“Machine gun Kelly x female reader. The reader is Kells younger sister who’s a singer and who’s really close to kells. When kells and Megan start dating people start saying how Megan is trying to push her out of kells life, trying to make kells forget about his sister even though Megan and kells sister immediately became best friends when kells introduced them. She finally has enough of people saying stuff about Megan and she posts on social media saying that she’s tired of people saying stuff that isn’t true and that her and Megan are best friends and she doesn’t hate Megan and that she’s really happy that her brother found someone as amazing as Megan. Please and thank you”

description: in which the tabloids are trying to paint her brother’s girlfriend as a bad person, so she decides to set the record straight

pairing: machine gun kelly x sister!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

She ran right past her brother and immediately tackled his girlfriend instead. Megan chuckled and hugged (Y/N) back as Colson watched with amusement.

“Good to see you too, sis,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re cool I guess,” (Y/N) said, waving Colson’s comment away. “We both know I’m here for Megan.”

“Weird, I thought you were here to record a song with me.”

“That’s like the side quest, the main mission is Megan.”

Colson rolled his eyes. (Y/N) made her way to his home studio, basically making herself at home in his house.

Despite both of them being in the music business for over 10 years, neither of the Baker siblings had ever done a song together. With the production of his next album, Colson insisted that (Y/N) made a feature on the album. She said yes on the condition that they both kept it an absolute secret until it was released to which Colson agreed.

(Y/N) threw herself down onto the couch in Colson’s home studio and pulled her songwriting notebook from her bag. “I have a few different verses written just because when I started writing I couldn’t stop. You choose one that sounds best with the rest of the song.”

“I’m sure all of them would work.

“Yeah but we can’t do a six verse song, that’s just too long. Pick one and I’ll use the others for a different song.”

Colson took the notebook and read through the verses. (Y/N) took her phone to look through social media while he read them. Megan was sat next to her, sending each other 8 Ball games back and forth between social media sessions.

After scrolling through Instagram for a while, (Y/N) switched to Twitter to find her own name trending. Confused, she clicked it to find an article at the top of the trend. The title read: “MGK blows off sister again! The rapper stands up (Y/N) for Megan Fox yet again”, accompanied by a picture of (Y/N) sat alone outside of a restaurant.

She didn’t have to read the rest of the article to know it was bullshit. The picture was of (Y/N) waiting on a friend outside the restaurant, not Colson, and the headline was so false that (Y/N)’s hands started to shake.

“(Y/N)? You good?”

Colson’s voice brought (Y/N) out of her enraged trance. She looked up to see him and Megan looking at her, expectantly.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she responded. However, another brief glance at her phone brought her anger back. “Actually, no, I’m not. I’ll be right back.”

She got up and walked out of the studio. She went to the living room, far enough away that she knew they wouldn’t be able to hear her as she filmed her video.

The press had been trying to pin (Y/B) and Megan against one another since she and Colson started dating. (Y/N) and Colson had always been close, but once Colson started dating Megan, the paparazzi started taking pictures of just the two of them or just (Y/N), totally ignoring the fact that (Y/N) was constantly posting pictures and tweets about Megan, and that all three of them spent time together often.

(Y/N) had had enough of the lies and the clickbait just to make Megan and Colson look like bad people. She was about to set the record straight, whether people wanted to hear it and believe it or not.

She switched her phone to Instagram again and went to her story. She held her phone up so that she was framed perfectly in the shot and held down on the button to begin recording.

“Hey everyone! I just wanted to address something really quick,” she started. She held the phone out so that the camera would pick up the background. “You see this behind me? This living room I’m in? This is Colson’s living room, because I am in Colson’s house. I am here spending time with him and with Megan, as I do almost every day. I am bringing this up because I just saw yet another article trying to make it out as if Colson has stopped spending time with me due to Megan. These articles are nothing but clickbait and lies to try and grab reader’s attention, especially the attention of my fans.

“Colson and I have not had any sort of falling out. There are no ill wishes from me towards Megan, and vice versa. In fact, Megan is my best friend. I like her more than I like Colson. And no, Colson has not stood me up or dumped me for Megan. Does he like to have his alone time with her? Of course! All couples do! But we still spend time together and we still talk to one another. There’s no bad blood between any of us. To the tabloids that have been spewing this bullshit for nearly a year now, I’d like for you all to kindly and politely shut the fuck up and move on. If I keep seeing this slander about my family, I will not hesitate to take legal action. To any of my fans who actually believe this and are sending hateful messages to Colson and Megan, I also beg you to stop. They are my family, and by hurting them you are hurting me. Whether you choose to believe this video or not is totally up to you, but this is the truth. All three of us, we’re a family. So fuck off of my family.”

(Y/N)’s hands were still shaking as she pressed “post”. She watched the videos load one by one before they were all posted to her story. The moment they went up, the views came flooding in, as did the positive messages. Many of her fans sent her private messages in response to the story, telling her they were sorry that she and Colson had to deal with that and assuring her that the real fans knew there was no ill intentions between the three of them.

Satisfied that she had finally gotten that off her chest, (Y/N) went to Colson’s kitchen and poured herself a glass of water before going back to the home studio. As she walked through the door, both Colson and Megan’s heads turned to look at her.

“Did you guys want water, too?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“You could’ve told us you were going to film that video,” Colson said. “We could’ve addressed the rumors, too.”

(Y/N) sighed and took her spot on the couch again. “I know that, but I felt like it had to be me addressing it. I was the one being made out to be a victim. If you guys said anything before I did, everyone would just think you’re trying to cover your own asses. You can make statements if you want, but I felt like I had to be the first one to speak up about this.”

“She’s right,” Megan agreed. “If we came out about it first it would just be fuel to the tabloid’s fire. Although, I don’t think we should have to make any sort of statement about it. The fact that anyone believes that shit makes no sense to me.”

“People like to demonize celebrities they don’t like,” (Y/N) responded. “Whether it’s true or not. Chances are that video will be taken out of context to fit their agenda, but whatever. I said my piece, I’m moving on.” She nodded to her notebook in Colson’s hand. “Did you choose a verse?”

Colson looked down at the notebook before passing it back to (Y/N). “They’re all really good, so I thought maybe, instead of one single, we do an entire album together.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? Like you actually wanna do that?”

Colson nodded. “Yeah! I think it’ll be a fun surprise to both of our fanbases, and it’ll definitely make up for the last ten years where we haven’t worked together.”

(Y/N) was basically bouncing with excitement. “Oh my God, this album is gonna be so fucking awesome! We should give it a really cheesy name, like Baker’s Dozen.”

“No,” Colson said.

“Yes!” Megan retorted.

“Two against one, it’s being called Baker’s Dozen,” (Y/N) decided. She and Megan high fived while Colson buried his head in his hands and let out a groan.