#I’m literally putting him in my pocket for safekeeping
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http-kogane · 1 year ago
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screencap redraw of my guy ☆ ~('▽^人)
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literaila · 1 year ago
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hey v ! what about peter and reader getting ready to go somewhere and after reader puts on some red lipstick peter can't stop kissing her ?
lipstick
warnings: ugh, peter
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*
“how many times have you done that?”
peter is standing behind you, leaning against the wall, probably ruining your focus, or your makeup, or your sanity. he’s probably staring just to mess with you.
you refrain from smiling in the mirror. wipe a smudge with your nail. “i don’t know, peter,” you meet his eyes, and his nefarious smirk. “how many times have you watched me do it?”
“i got lost somewhere around the first time.”
you laugh at him, crumbling the napkin you’ve been using, now filled with kiss marks, and turning it around so you can throw it at peter. “are you sick?” you ask him.
instead of answering, he licks his lip and unfolds the napkin, staring at the red marks, creases and tireless efforts arranged in a messy pattern. “this is like art.”
“why are you acting like you’ve never seen anyone wear lipstick before?”
“what?” he asks, hand to his chest. “i cant watch you get ready? i’m banned from being in the bathroom when you are?”
“yes, and yes.”
it does not escape your notice when peter tucks the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping.
he shrugs. “i don’t mind breaking the rules.”
you scoff at him and pat his shoulder as you walk past him through the doorway. “i would’ve locked you out if i knew you were going to be weird about it.”
“weird? how am i being weird?”
“you were lurking. you’re still lurking.”
“i’m talking to my girlfriend. that’s part of our contract.”
“you’re following me.”
peter smiles. “well, i like you.”
you roll your eyes, almost—almost—smiling when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. “please don’t make me argue about your stalker like tendencies.”
“we don’t have to argue,” peter says, kissing the space beneath your ear. his breath is hot.
“i need to put my shoes on, peter.”
he smiles, his teeth clashing against your skin like a dreadful reminder. some type of jumpscare—minus the fact that you merely lean into him, sans jumping. “we can spare fifteen minutes.”
“how can you be thinking about anything besides the fact that we’re already late to meet may?”
he nibbles on the skin by your collarbone, then licks it, as reprieve. “it must be the lipstick.”
“you’ve literally seen me with lipstick before. i wore some on our first date.”
“‘s probably why i like it so much.”
his lips are needy as they crawl around your skin. his hands are stationary, but they pose their own threat as they lurk.
“peter, we have to go.”
“i’m not known for my punctuality,” he spins you around, his lips curled in mischief, “you know.”
“i’m aware.”
you refuse to indulge him. your brows furrow, your hands held in the air—just so you can avoid accidentally touching him. purposefully.
“then why are you so worried?” peter asks, kissing your cheek.
“i’m not kissing you,” you say, instead of answering.
“you’re not?” peter pouts like a child. he is far too grown.
“no.”
“how come?”
you try to pull away from him, but, shockingly, peter is stronger than you are. your will is weak. “you’re going to smudge my lipstick. i just finished.”
“you have more, don’t you?”
“not the point.”
“what?” he asks, his voice so serious and teasing. “you don’t want to kiss me?”
“no, i do not.”
you look away from him, admiring a wall that has always been there.
“are you sure?” peter asks, ducking so he can catch your eyes again, because he is nothing if not cruel.
you break, pouting. “peter,” you whine, “we’re not going to be late again.”
“i think we are.”
“you can kiss me when we get home later,” you promise, trying again to wiggle out of his grasp.
“that is a terrible compromise.”
“you won’t compromise,” you snap back. “what else am i supposed to do?”
peter grins, tilting his head. “okay. i have an idea. how about i kiss you, and then we leave? you don’t even have to kiss back, even though we’d both prefer it that way.”
“i’ll kiss you,” you mock him. “you’re the worst negotiator i’ve ever met.”
“then how come we haven’t left yet?”
you scowl at him, and he scowls back, but his eyes are alight.
your skin is ravenous with an ache to touch him, he’s so close that kissing him would be nothing—merely breathing, really—but you don’t want to lose this game to peter. and you dont want him to stop looking at you.
he pretends to check a watch. “hmm, it’s getting awfully late.”
“are you british all of the sudden?”
peter grins, biting his lip before he tries to bite you. you lean away. “if you like my accent, all you have to do is say so.”
“i like it when you get out of my way, and stop trying to sabotage me. i like that a lot.”
“no clue what you mean, dear.”
you roll your eyes and manage to cross your arms in his hold.
“i wonder how we could solve this,” peter muses, tapping his finger on your waist. “it’s a big problem.”
“i could leave you behind and have lunch with may myself.”
“that’s one option.”
you roll your eyes again.
“i was thinking something else, though,” peter says, and he’s closer now, but you’re sure that you never saw him move. “something more… proactive.”
“shove it, peter.”
“you don’t even want to hear it?”
you sigh, leaning your chest into him, out of pure delusion. “fine. what?”
peter smiles at you, eyes catching eyes.
the look on his face is soft, delirious. he’s got that look in his eyes, and that smile on his face, and he’s still staring at you like he’s mesmerized by whatever you’re doing.
“what?” you repeat, but softly, like you can’t find your voice in the chest cavity peters taken hold of.
“kiss me,” he says, softly, and it’s really not your fault that his lips are already brushing yours.
and it’s not your fault when you lean in, sighing in relief at the mere feel of him.
you’re almost breathless, from the tiniest of kisses.
but then you kiss peter again, and again, and your hands finally wrap around him—keeping hold of something real in this fake reality—and your voice isn’t your own when you groan at peter for making you do this.
you have evacuated your body. you have lost common sense.
but it doesn’t matter, because kissing peter has always made you forget all of that.
and it still does, when he pulls back, grinning like he’s won. “see?” he says, voice ragged. “it was simple.”
“we’re going to be late and it’s your fault.”
peter laughs, kissing you again, staring at your red lips. “gladly. i’ll take all the blame.”
“and you’re making it up to me later.”
“whatever you say,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip.
he releases you and watches as you finally put on your shoes.
you don’t think it necessary to mention the red marks on his lips. it’s not like it’s your fault they’re there.
*
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shoutaaizawas · 4 years ago
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↳ keigo takami x fem!reader → ❝shiny things❞
summary: hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. he likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why word count: 2,406 tags/warnings: fluff, hawks being a bird a/n: uhh i don’t know i love the bird man
sequel “preening”
masterlist
Dating Hawks was unusual for a list of reasons. He was a pro hero so that meant he was very busy, in the public eye, and couldn’t tell you everything. Then there was the way Hawks had been raised. After a while of dating, he trusted you enough to open up and tell you about his childhood. It shed a lot of light on the things he did in your relationship. But perhaps the least expected thing was his bird-like habits.
It wasn’t unusual for people with animal-like quirks the show similar traits to said animal. Selkie and Gang Orca came to mind although they looked more like their animal counterparts than Hawks did. Perhaps that was why you didn’t expect it from him.
At first, you thought he was joking. You had been dating for a while enough to know each other well enough to start to develop feelings. Hawks flew in to meet you for a coffee date in between work. The wind-blown hair and charming smile always made your heart skip a beat.
“Look what I found.” He said, his tone of voice sounded like an excited kid. He held out his hand present the shiny blue marble. You glanced up at him wondering if he was joking but he looked happy to present this offering. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt his feelings even if you didn’t quite understand.
“Wow, where’d you find this?” You asked taking it and holding it up in the light to examine it.
“I found it on patrol.” He said. “It was shining in the light and caught my eye. Don’t worry I washed it off.” He reassured. That almost made you laugh.
“It’s pretty.” You said. That wasn’t a lie, in its own way it was pretty but you could honestly say you had never met someone over the age of ten present a marble with such excitement.
“It’s for you.” He said with a smile that melted your heart. The sentiment wasn’t lost on you even if you were trying to wrap your head around it.
“Thank you, you’re too sweet.” You told him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
The next time that happened you were more prepared for it. It was a perfect day, the sky was clear, and the weather cool. The salty breeze from the ocean filled the air around you as you walked hand in hand with your boyfriend. The sun was sinking into the horizon leaving a beautiful sunset.
Hawks spotted something, his eyes widening as he let go of your hand and rushed forward. He leaned down picking up something from the ground. Brushing it off he stood and returned to your side.
“Look!” He said in an excited voice holding his open hand up to you. You smiled at the way his wings fluttered in excitement behind him.
“What is it?” You asked putting one hand underneath his as you looked. There was a small shiny green object, it almost looked like a rock.
“It’s a piece of sea glass! It’s normal glass that ends up in the ocean, it takes like fifty years of tumbling around in the water to look like this.” He said. Looking at it, it was pretty. The frosted texture was unique you realized as you picked it up. He closed your hand over it. “Keep it.” He smiled.
You smiled at him sliding the sea glass in your pocket for safekeeping. This wasn’t the last time that he gave you an odd gift with a genuine spirit. You always smiled when he presented the items with pride and excitement, his feathers puffed up.
It was a night that you were spending with Hawks at his fancy apartment when things started to make more sense. You had made him dinner and were enjoying a bottle of wine now.
Hawks wasn’t a drinker but since you met him you had gotten him to like wine. It wasn’t unusual for you to share a bottle. It always amused you the pink tint on his cheeks and how relaxed he got.
The view from Hawks balcony was nice, a perfect city skyline. The love seat there was comfy and so was your position resting against Hawks, one of his winds draped around you keeping you close and protecting you from the cold night. The candles lit around you gave off a dim glow.
You looked at your empty glass and his. As much as you didn’t want to get up you did want more wine so you would have to sacrifice your comfort for a moment.
“Let me get you more.” You said taking his glass in your hand before standing up. He made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact.
“I can get it.” He said. You leaned forward pressing a kiss against his lips, your free hand grazing his cheek.
“Let me, relax here. I’ll be right back.” You said before walking into the apartment. You entered his nice kitchen grabbing the bottle on the counter. There was enough for one glass. You looked at the full bottle on the counter. It wouldn’t hurt to open up another, you could always save the rest if you didn’t finish it.
Opening a drawer you looked for the wine opener. This one had normal utensils in it. The one below it had towels. It was the third drawer down that was odd.
It was full of random items, rocks, stray earrings, buttons, and other odds and ends. It wasn’t your usual junk drawer. All of the items had a certain shine to them. Your mind was immediately pulled to the random things Hawks had presented to you so happily.
You let out a small gasp as it all clicked. He was a bird. Well, not literally but it seemed he shared more traits with the animal than you had originally guessed. Looking at all the items you knew that he cared for them enough to keep them in his house.
A smile met your lips thinking about how excited he always was as he handed you the shiny thing he had found. It was so sweet that he gave them to you instead of keeping it for his own collection. Had he even been keeping anything for himself since he met you?
Your heart felt full as you closed the drawer and looked for the wine opener. Hawks was already so sweet and somehow this odd quirk of his added on to it.
Returning to the balcony you sat down next to him handing him his glass before pulling him in for a deep kiss. Your free hand tangled in his feathers and you could feel him sigh against your lips.
“What was that for?” He questioned pulling back with pink cheeks and a content smirk.
“Nothing, I just really like you.” You smiled.
“Well, I really like you too.” He said before pulling you in for another kiss.
“So I gave her this shiny rock and she was so happy, I love the way she smiles when I give her stuff.” Hawks gushed about you to Mirko often. The rabbit hero was patient in listening to him but would often roll her eyes at how head over heels he was.
“Wait, so you’re telling me the kind of gifts you’ve been giving her are shiny rocks and marbles?” She questioned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve stolen french fries from tourists to give to her.” Hawks gave her a questioning look.
“I always give her the shiny stuff I find now.” He said.
“And she hasn’t dumped you?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Wow, she must really like like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“A lot of girls like shiny things but they usually prefer bracelets, necklaces, rings, or even cars if you’re really trying to spoiler her. Maybe a designer pair of shoes or a purse.” She said thoughtfully. “Most girls would have left by now if they were given shiny debris from their boyfriend.”
Hawks stood there frozen trying to process what she was saying.
“Trust me, I get it, Hawks. The animal tendencies can be strong but you have to recognize them and adjust. Find a way to fill that urge but in a way that your partner will appreciate more.”
“I didn’t even realize it.” Hawks said in a quiet voice. “Oh no she’s probably hated all the stuff I’ve been giving her and has just been nice to me.” He groaned.
Mirko patted him on the shoulder.
“Happens to the best of us. I nibbled on my first crushes sleeve. There are some things you’ll never forget how embarrassing they were.” She sighed, staring off in her memory.
“That’s rough.” Hawks said. “I’m just glad you told me before she got too weirded out. I really like her, I don’t want to ruin it with her.”
“That’s what friends are for to help you with your blind spots.” She explained. “And Hawks, if she stuck around this long I don’t think you’re scaring her off with shiny marbles.” She teased.
Hawks felt so embarrassed. He had no relationship experience. His childhood had not been a normal one, he didn’t go to middle school or high school. He didn’t go on awkward dates or take someone to prom. It was uncharted territory. He never even intended on dating anyone his life was too complicated then he met you and every excuse he had to date someone was out the window.
He had to make it up to you, he had to explain himself but he was trying to figure out the best way to do that. He recalled you telling him a story about earrings that you had really wanted to buy once at a boutique on vacation but you had ended up not buying them for one reason or another. He had made note of that hoping to look for one similar to what you described but hadn’t gotten around to it.
Now was finally his time, surprisingly it wasn’t that hard to find something that matched your description. He hoped it was close enough for you. Hawks texted you asking if he could come over tonight when you were home and you agreed.
After patrol, he picked up your favorite take out and headed over to your place. He landed on the balcony walking in as you told him he could. You sat on the couch wearing a cute pair of sweatpants and a sweater.
“Hey, babe.” You said standing up and walking over to him, greeting him with a kiss.
“Hey, little bird.” He said returning the kiss.
“Is that what I think it is?” You questioned.
“Your favorite.” He smiled. The two of you sat down at the couch opening up the bag of food and digging in.
“What’s the special occasion?” You asked as you finished up your food.
“I wanted to talk.” He answered, immediately he saw you face drop. “Nothing bad, I promise.”
“Oh.” You sighed in relief.
“Actually I wanted to apologize.” He started, his wings looked tense.
“For what?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.
“The gifts I’ve given you, my friend pointed out that they’re weird and not something you should give your girlfriend.
“Hawks-” You tried to interrupt but he continued.
“I’m sorry, it’s just something I’ve done since I was a kid. I see something shiny and I take it, I’ve had a collection forever and I don’t know I never questioned it until Mirko pointed it out. I just would always get so excited when I saw stuff I kept it. When I started dating you I’d see something and I would think this is so pretty I have to share it with her, I don’t want to keep it to myself-”
“Hawks.” You said taking his hand in yours. “Don’t apologize. Look.”
He watched as you leaned to your coffee table grabbing the small box on it and setting it in between the two of you. Opening it he realized it was full of all the things he had given you.
“I’ll admit I was a little confused at first but even then I saw how happy you were and it was so cute. How could I deny or be upset about you giving me something that made you so happy.” You explained, brushing your hand over the piece of sea glass he gave you. “Eventually I figured it out, I saw the drawer at your place and I put it together. Honestly, the fact that you gave me these means far more than expensive jewelry would mean to me.”
Hawks stared at you in disbelief. How had he ever found someone as amazing as you? He fought the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. You had understood him without him ever having to explain.
“Actually, I just remembered.” You said standing up and moving to your purse by the door. You looked through it for a moment before finding what you were looking for. Sitting down you held your hand out presenting a shiny vintage key. “I saw this today at a little store I stopped at on my break. I don’t know if it will fit into your collection but-”
Before you could even finish your sentence Hawks had nearly tackled you into a kiss. His arms wrapped around you pulling you close as his wings fluttered. He pulled back looking into your eyes.
“I love you.” The words came out before he could stop them. He already felt so much for you but this had pushed it over the edge.
“Keigo, I-I love you too.” You returned not expecting anything that had just happened.
“I got you a gift, a proper gift this time.” He said reaching into his pocket. “The earrings you talked about, I hope they are close enough to the ones you wanted.”
“Keigo, they’re perfect.” You said pulling him in for another kiss. “Thank you.”
Hawks was more than just a pretty face and you had seen through that. Getting to know him, the real him, not the person the media presented or the child that had been raised into a weapon, was something you had enjoyed. Not only did you get to know the real Hawks but you had fallen deeply in love with him, bird traits, and all.
taglist:  @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia
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chiwhorei · 4 years ago
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green scrunchies
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pairing: dom!k. ukai x sub!fem!reader
genre: smut, 18+ minors dni
word count: 4.1k
warnings: swearing, spanking, smoking, daddy kink, dom/ sub dynamics, brat taming, subspace, dirty talk, degradation, age gap(reader is 22ish and ukai is 26ish) spitting, fingering, oral (fem receiving), edging, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, a little dumification, public nudity (kinda), unprotected sex, tattoos (there’s a tattoo in a really unholy place), this is just filth okay
a/n: i have been sitting on the bulk of this piece for a fucking month and am honestly so surprised i finished it. this was inspired by a picture i saw of a really naughty tattoo and my mind want crazy and vomited on to a google doc.
hymn: nothing’s gonna hurt you baby by cigarettes after sex
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“but today isn’t a day of honey-sweet ministrations.”
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Ukai Keishin is a gentle man. The team of highschoolers he coaches, his friends, hell, even his mother would beg to differ. But they were not privy to the Keishin you know. The man that serenades you with Elvis Presley while cleaning up after closing the store, grabbing your waist and pulling you into a clumsy slow dance as his gravelly voice croons into your ear. 
He’s entrancing. Hypnotizing you, almost two years ago now, in the most tender pursuit possible, so softly you were unaware of falling deeply in love with him until you had already tipped completely over. Turning to an ink pen and scraps of receipt paper to flesh out the feelings he worried would not sound perfect when they hit your ears. To this day, you’re not entirely sure if he meant to leave the pages to his extemporaneous romance novel for you to find on purpose, but you have your suspicions.
You were in your second year of college when you met Keishin, only 20 years old at the time and clueless to any world outside of studying frantically from one exam to the next. Chasing after a degree you could pursue your dreams with and getting tattoos that would piss your parents off, you crashed into him, literally. 
While walking to class with practiced steps and flipping through a small stack of notecards, you frantically try to accomplish last minute cramming and making it to class promptly at the same time. With one final attempt to understand the scribbles in front of you, you take a sharp turn into a brick wall. A flurry of white papers thrown into the air and falling back down like snow.
It happened in a minute, a minute that held sixty of the longest seconds to ever pass; from the moment you smack your nose into his cemented chest to the moment he saves your head from kissing the ground below. “You need to watch where you’re going, kid.” He says with a cigarette pressed between his teeth. It all happened in that single minute, your soul escaping and crawling into his jacket pocket without even realizing. It’s been there ever since, for safekeeping, of course.
He’s perfect in every way. But just as he is soft and loving, Ukai is not one to take shit. Especially when his sweet, shy baby girl is being a raging brat. It’s like any normal fall afternoon, slightly chilly and crisp on your walk from class. The air is biting at your skin, but the temperature is not what sends a piercing shiver down your spine. You know that as soon as you get home, Ukai Keishin is going to ruin you. 
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“What are you doing here, princess?” Your presence is made known with a soft ding from the bell above the door, but Ukai doesn't look up from his magazine when acknowledging you. 
“I live upstairs?” Your tone is light and playful. You decide to test the waters, wondering how much Keishin will let slide today.
“Don’t be dense, little one.” He graces you with his eye contact for the first time, “I know you have a Biology lecture on Friday afternoons. So, why is that cute little ass here instead of on campus?” His lips are pulled tightly in a thin line and he rakes his eyes down your body. You’re wearing a short pleated skirt and a baggie pull-over. Exactly what he picked out for you this morning. Well, almost exactly. He was already opening up the store by the time you woke up, so the clothes were placed neatly on his side of the bed. What he didn’t pick out though, were the stockings currently brandishing your mid thigh, cutting off the supple skin with the soft, black cotton. 
“Oh! My professor cancelled lecture today so I came home early to have lunch with my loving boyfriend.” You smile sweetly, dropping your backpack and rounding the corner of the counter he is sat at. Ukai hums softly- dismissively- and lights a cigarette, his eyes don’t give away any emotion, so you are left hanging off the end of the burning cherry. Has he caught on yet? Maybe the thigh-highs would be enough to distract from your real surprise. 
Before you can ruminate on the thought, a wide, kind smile spreads across his face. If you didn’t know any better, this smile would be comforting. Your boyfriend pats his lap, motioning for you to take a seat. You adjust yourself to fit snugly and lean into Keishin’s chest. He presses a chaste kiss to your temple and takes a drag from his cigarette. Customers trickle in slowly, and you stand a few times to ring up their purchases, always the dutiful girlfriend. Keishin watches you with adoration in between paging through a magazine, everything you did was so perfect, even if it’s just scanning a few groceries. Such a good girl you are. 
It’s not until you sit back down, and he adjusts your hips to settle back into him that he is made aware of the game you’re trying to play. And he is pissed.
“Princess, did you not like the clothes I picked out for you this morning?” He has fully caught on to you at this point, and you both know it, but he isn’t going to show you his hand quite yet. 
“Of course I did, Daddy.” You bury your burning cheek into his neck, letting the familiar smell of cologne and campfires calm your clambering heartbeat. 
“I see, then why are you wearing these…” Keishin’s voice trails off and pulls at the material of the thigh-highs, snapping it against your skin.  
“Actually,” he interrupts, “I have a more important question. But I need you to be a good girl and answer honestly.” Keishin whispers into the shell of your ear and nods a goodbye to the elderly man leaving the store. You two were alone now, the promise of other customers wandering in diminishing quickly with the time of day. 
“I’ll be a good girl Daddy.” You try to coat your words in velvet as best as you can, but Keishin scoffs, clearly unamused. 
“That’s rich, princess. Now tell me, did you go to campus this morning without panties on?” You knew the question he was going to pose, you could have even saved him the breath. You knew you were going to get caught, I mean, that is why you did it. But now, faced with having to atone for your sins, the confidence in your original actions was melting away. 
“I forgot to put panties on this morning, Daddy. I’m sorry.” You try to pout in the sweetest way possible, but Keishin knows. You’re lying through your teeth.
“Tsk, you forgot. How could you forget if I laid them right on top of your skirt this morning?” He fishes in his pocket and pulls out a damning article. As he moves the exhibit into evidence, light pink thong hanging off of fingers, you resolve that your little game was over long before you even tried to start. All you can do now is wait with baited breath and flushed cheeks for his next move. 
“Stand up princess.” Ukai grabs onto your hip bones and lifts you upward. He spins you around to face him and perches his elbows on his knees. “Show me what’s mine baby girl.” His request, his demand, rolls off the tongue like icicles. You know what he means, but still stare back dumbly, mouth wide at what he was insinuating.
“You know I don’t like repeating myself, little girl.” His words stir inside you. If he sees how wet you’re getting, you’re done for. There’s no escaping this moment though. You take a deep breath in a feeble fight against the suffocating feeling in your chest, and lift up the end of your short, black skirt so he can see you. All of you.
Your precious, sumptuous thighs now in his view. He studies the lines of the tattoos not covered with your stockings. Beautiful floral designs in delicate black ink. Keishin thinks the work you get done is always so beautiful. Every addition befitting you perfectly. He loves tracing the pads of his fingers over the art in softer moments. This moment though, was not soft, and the tattoos on your thighs were not the subject of Ukai’s attention. 
He flicks his eyes up to meet yours briefly, and trails down from your quivering bottom lip, to your delicate, freckled collarbones peering sweetly from your large sweater. He drags his darkening gaze down further, cherishing every inch until he reaches your hips. Nestled in between the apex of your thighs, in small, dainty writing lays his prize.
“My Daddy Will Kill You.”
No matter what you did, he would always be there, snugly under the second layer of skin. When his fingers weren’t intertwined in yours, when he couldn’t have a protective hand in your back pocket. Whenever he was away with his team for tournaments or just when you were in class. He was always on you.
“Such a gorgeous little cunt you have.” He leans back in his seat, watching you fidget under his stare, “Whose cunt is this, baby? Is it your classmates? Is it your professors?” You bow your head in shame at Ukai’s insinuation, you know that going to class with a bare ass and a short skirt was going to get you in trouble. How could you resist though, when the punishment always feels so good.
“You’ve been acting like a petulant brat recently. I’ve been letting things slide because I know how stressful your senior year of college has been.” His tone is exasperated, but his eyes are calm, level, dark, “I can’t ignore this, you know that right?”
“I know, Daddy.”
“Your class was cancelled. So that means we get to start the weekend early.” He pulls your hands from your skirt, letting it fall back into place and holds both of your hands in one of his much larger ones. “Go upstairs and sit on the bed. I want you in just your skirt and those cute little tights you were so keen on wearing. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” 
“But Daddy…” you really did like to test your luck sometimes, but the look he gives you, slightly shocked and more than lightly infuriated, was enough to make you hurry to the back and up the stairs to your shared apartment. You kick your sneakers off at the door and head straight to the bedroom. You pull the sweater over your head and unclasp your bra. Usually Keishin likes to do that step for you, savoring the way you shiver as he brushes the straps off of your shoulders, but today isn’t a day of honey-sweet ministrations. 
You tremble like a puppy as you wait for Ukai and almost jump out of your own skin when you hear the front door creek open. Usually you are met with a bellowing voice upon his entry, walking through the door with a hearty, “Honey, I’m home!” even if you had only walked in a few steps ahead. Now, all you can do is wait as he mulls about the apartment with lackadaisical intent and a deafening silence. After a few agonizing minutes and feeling like he made his point, Ukai finally appears in the doorway, arms folded and pressed tightly to his hard chest with a categorically sadistic smile on his face.
“So, you do know how to follow directions?” You gulp loudly and nod your head, but quickly correct yourself. If you don’t use your words you’ll make things worse for yourself. “Yes, Daddy. I know how to follow directions.” It’s not a lie, obviously you are aware of his rules, you just prefer breaking them. Your response is small compared to the loud, sarcastic laugh falling from his throat. Ukai steps towards you slowly. 
“You are such a little tease, I came up to kiss you goodbye this morning and found these still sitting on the bed.” He pulls the thong out of his pocket again and drops the lace into your lap. “You left them there because you wanted me to find them. You wanted me to know you were sitting in class with a bare cunt.” There’s no use trying to find an excuse to push past your locked jaw, because he’s not really asking a question. 
“I left them on purpose, Daddy. I’m sorry.” Your mea culpa is underwhelming to say the least, and you both know it. You may be pleading guilty to all charges, but you don’t seem eager for absolution. 
“You are such a little attention whore. My timid, darling girl has been acting like an insolent slut recently. What am I going to do with you?” His voice sounds questioning, but unmistakingly rhetorical. He’s known what he was going to do to you from the moment he spotted your panties weighing the bed down this morning.
“Turn around baby.” Ukai unbuckles his belt, and you turn away from him, tucking your legs to sit upright. He gathers your long h/c hair from where it was settled around your face and meticulously braids it to lay flat on your back, attaching the green scrunchy from his wrist to the bottom. 
Just like a calling card, Keishin always had a scrunchy of yours around his wrist. Whenever you are hunched over the kitchen table in the middle of writing a paper, he pulls your hair behind you and fastens it into a bun, careful to keep it loose so as to not invite a headache, and kisses the crown of your head. Regardless of where you are: shopping, date night, visiting him at practice, if he notices your hair becoming annoying he will slip it from your neck and twist it into the green scrunchy.
And when you are about to be punished, Ukai pulls your hair into a neat, low braid.
You feel him run his hands from your shoulders to your wrists, pulling them gently behind your back. He presses your palms together and gives them a squeeze so you know to keep them together. Ukai pulls off his shirt, and  frees his undone belt from his jeans, folding it in half and running the cool leather up your thigh. He swats softly at your skin, just enough to make you flinch. 
Ukai tosses the belt to the ground, deciding he would rather you feel the sting of his palm, and sits down next to you on the bed. You face him with your hands still laced together behind you and let him position you to lay across his lap. The side of your face and your shoulders lay flush against the bed and your ass is raised up above his jean-clad thighs. 
“You know the rules, right my love?”
“Yes, Daddy. If I lose count you have to start over.”
“There’s my smart girl. You look so beautiful like this.” He lands a smack on your right cheek, actions greatly contrasting his soft, almost taunting tone. “It’s such a shame you’ve been acting like such a whore.” 
He delivers slap after slap on your bruising ass and you count every one out to him, briefly considering what would happen if you stopped counting, but you know that your punishment is already going to be harsh enough. You’re a masochist, yes, but not an idiot. 
“Why do you always seem to be on your best behavior when I have you over my knee, darling?” Ukai connects his palm with your tender flesh again. “How many was that baby?” 
“Fifteen, Daddy.” You speak in an even tone, if your boyfriend catches on to how much more you like this than he already knows, you’re, quite literally, fucked. 
“You really know how to play me, baby. I’m always wrapped around your little finger.” He starts to knead your ass cheek with his large hand, skimming the tips of his digits against your wanton cunt. He’s testing you, wanting to see if you’ll start squirming or unclasp your hands from their position behind your back, but you hold steady.
“You leave me naughty little surprises. I had you on my mind all day, thinking about this naked little pussy walking around campus. One tiny slip and you would have shown everyone what’s mine.” Another sharp swat to your butt reverberates through the room and you can barely mumble out your counted response. 
“But that’s what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted everyone to see this slutty pussy of yours didn’t you?” Whether that was the truth or not doesn't actually matter, you know not to make an excuse. You are just meant to count and thank. 
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“You need to stop squirming, princess, or you’re going to royally piss me off.” Ukai continues his relentless pace, two thick fingers pistoning deep in your dripping pussy. This was one of Ukai’s favorite games, finger-fucking you to the point of the bed under you slamming into the wall. Your job was to keep completely still. One arch of your back or escaped moan and he would land a sharp slap to your puffy, untended clit. 
He’s actually being quite generous despite the circumstances. Usually, you would be propped on your hands and knees, but Ukai has laid you flat on your back with one leg tossed over his broad shoulder. The position, while easier to keep your body still, does mean that Ukai’s piercing, hungry gaze has you pinned like prey under him. The completely pornografic sounds of his fingers are making your head spin. The fact that he’s been hammering his fingers relentlessly into your g-spot for an hour, is starting to make your mind foggy, all thoughts are starting to slip from your brain and your boyfriend can tell.
“God, baby, I love making you absolutely stupid for me. I bet all you can think about is my cock filling this little cunt up, huh?” His words are sneering, taunting. Your response is a babbled agreement and plea for his cock, and the sight of you so completely fucked out makes the bulge in his jeans strain even further. The feeling of his fingers in your squelching pussy is dulling all other senses, so when he pulls the digits away, you can’t help the cry that rips from the back of your throat. 
“Don’t worry, precious girl, I’m going to give you what you want. What you’re fucking desperate for.” Ukai pushes himself from the bed and removes his jeans and boxers, and you watch as his thick cock springs free to slap against his abdomen. The sound makes you mewl, your cunt clenching in anticipation. 
As Ukai crawls back onto your shared bed, his head dips down in between your legs. He licks, flat and languid across your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue with a feral groan.
“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me. I- I need you. Wa- want to be your good girl.” You find your words as best as you can to beg for him, the sweet cadence of your voice and the way your weak arms reach out for his messy bleached hair signals to him that you’ve fallen completely into a foggy, submissive haze. You tug lightly at the tresses and the impressive self-control he has kept up thus far snaps like plywood under a heavy boot. 
Ukai takes one more deep, hungry lick at your soaking pussy and sits up, pushing your legs further apart, digging his nails into the soft skin under your knees. 
“Open your mouth, Princess.” You are quick to comply with his request, sticking your tongue out and looking up at him through your lashes. You hear the sound of him spitting, his saliva and your arousal coats the thickest plane of your tongue, but connecting one thought to the next becomes impossible as Ukai pushes his thick cock into you at the same time.
“Jesus Christ, no matter how much time I take to get you ready you’re still so tight. God, you make it really hard to stay mad at you.” His hands keep your legs pressed up to your chest, pushing his thick cock into you at an agonizingly lazy pace. Ukai was right, it didn’t matter that he had finger-fucked you into the mattress for an hour, taking him was a tight fit every time. As he buries himself in you, the intoxicating burn of being so full takes all of the air out of your chest. His thick cock stretches you so far, you swear he can feel your own heartbeat within the walls of your tiny cunt. He’s barely halfway into you and you can’t help but constrict, the tinny flavor of your orgasm crawling up from your spine to your mouth. 
“There’s no way I’m letting you cum already.” Ukai snickered sadistically, thumb brushing across your tattoo, the dirty secret you shared, right over where you need his fingers most. He wasn’t going to touch your deprived clit yet, and hoping for him to do so was a waste of energy. 
“I’m sorry Daddy. I promise, I’ll be good.” Your tears are rolling down the side of your face, wetting the sheet next to you. 
“You’re a pathetic mess and I’m not even all the way in you yet. I would save the tears if I were you, babydoll.” You try to compose yourself, but Ukai’s words of dismissive degradation give your whimpers more body, sobbing and babbling as his cock bottoms out. 
You can feel every inch of him, hard and thick and so so full inside of you. Ukai pulls out of you completely, his soaking tip rubbing on your labia before slamming back in to the hilt. His pace becomes brutal with every thrust, original slow pace completely unknown to you now. There’s no way you're going to be able to stand properly after this. 
“Daddy, please. Please let me cum. Need to cum, Daddy. Need to be your good girl.” A series of calls for your daddy and prayerful begs are the only things you know at this point, drool and tears covering your face.
“You know what, Princess? I bet I could make you cum with just one touch to that little clit.” Ukai takes one hand off of your thigh and hovers over where you have needed him since you woke up this morning. “If I’m right, I’ll make you cum again. If I’m wrong, you’re not gonna cum at all.”
You can feel the warmth of his finger looming over the neglected bud, the anticipation is overwhelming and cruel, but all worth it as soon as he pushes the rough pad of his thumb down. Ukai presses a single, taught circle into your clit and the coil wound tightly in your stomach snaps with incredible force. You know there is a scream that rips from your dry mouth, but you can’t hear it with the blood rushing through your ears. Ukai works you through your first orgasm, stilling his thrusts as until you come floating back down.
“I know this slutty little cunt better than the back of my hand. Now, my precious little thing,” You watch as Ukai hooks your limp legs over his shoulders, lining his throbbing cock back to your slopping entrance. “Let’s do that a couple more times.”
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“Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can’t help, falling in love with you.”
You feel your senses coming back to you slowly, with every delicate touch Keishin glides over your skin. He pulls you back to reality with sweet touches and the deep, gravely sound of his voice. After several meticulous moments and even more words of praise, Kei delivers a delicate kiss to your forehead and carries you to the shower. You take a deep, relaxed sigh as he massages your aching muscles under the hot water. After drying your exhausted body with a fluffy towel, Keishin helps you into a comfy pair of leggings and one of his sweatshirts. 
“Take my hand. Take my whole heart too.” Your boyfriend’s broad arms wrap around your waist, hands finding purchase under the orange sweatshirt currently drowning your form, and you melt into his chest. “Because I can’t help, falling in love with you.” You turn around in his arms to steal a kiss, but as your lips attach to his a small laugh bubbles up from your stomach. 
“What are you giggling at?” Keishin eyes you curiously, and you start laughing even harder.
“Oh nothing, I was just thinking about the bloody nose you gave me when we first met.” You cackle at the memory and feel Keishin take an exasperated but amused sigh, joining your laughter with his own.
“First of all, Princess, you ran into me.”
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all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️
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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 4 years ago
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What if Wukong stole baby pictures of MK while in the midst of him and Mei pranking MK's parents, and he just stumbles upon a box with pics of MK when he was younger, then when he gets back to Flower Fruit Mountain he hangs some up like the proud papa he is. MK finds the pictures and Wukong just brushes it off.
:O
You. I love you. Yes. This is good. I love this lkMSDAF;OIAWFASD
I am trying to restrain myself from writing a whole goshdang fic for this lskdmfawef
He accidentally finds them while in their garage. Knocks something over and dust goes flying everywhere and he coughs and waves the dust away, and then freezes when he sees a bunch of old photos spilled all over the ground.
He recognizes Mk’s face instantly, cause it’s not hard to. Same smile, even when he was that little. He feels a stab of annoyance at the fact that all of these pictures are buried underneath several boxes in the corner of the garage.
He goes through them all, and finds himself putting his favourites aside as he does so, then puts the rest of them back in the box that they fell out of, just in case he wants to come back later and see if the kid wants any (he doubts he does, but it’s good to ask). After that, he promptly uses the gadget Mei designed to rig their car so it will only play one meme song over and over again the second they turn the car on. Then he heads back to flower fruit mountain, where he puts the pictures up on his wall, tucks one into his pocket just for safekeeping, and not to think about why he’s doing it.
Mk usually doesn’t come inside cause he’s usually just there to train, and training can get pretty destructive and Wukong doesn’t want that anywhere near the inside of his house, so it’s a while before he actually sees them.
He finally does come inside and freezes when his eyes land on some photos he recognizes on the wall. Wukong’s grabbing some food,so he doesn’t notice at first, but then he sees Mk standing there staring at something and then realizes what he’s staring at and immediately tries to brush it off, because it’s uh.. “Pfft, what? Noooo. How did those get there? I certainly didn’t put them up, lemme just grab those and hide them behind my back, you never saw anything--wait are you crying?!”
Mk’s never really cared about baby pictures. He likes family photos a lot more, since it’s him with the people he cares about (not that he has any of those, anymore since he was kicked out) but the fact that Wukong had to have literally stolen them from his parents house and the fact that they’re up on the wall is…
Wukong’s panicking a little bit, his hands hovering over him, concerned as Mk wipes his eyes.
“Yeesh, sorry, bud. I didn’t know it would bother you. I can take them down right now--”
“No!”
They stare at each other for a second, Wukong’s hand halfway to the wall and Mk’s hand reached out to stop him from taking the rest of the pictures down.
He swallows and withdraws his hand, rubbing his arm. “That’s--it’s fine.” His voice gets quieter. “You can keep them if you want.”
“Right. Okay.” Wukong stares at him for a second, and then finally unfreezes and quickly changes the subject, stuffing the pictures he’d taken off the wall into his pocket for safekeeping until he could put them back up later, and steers the kid away from the wall and to the kitchen.
Mk’s smiling for a week straight after that, and Wukong denies it ever happened.
He barely even knows why he has the pictures up. (He does, of course he knows why, he’s just in denial)
He’s still got his favourite tucked in his pocket, and that’ll probably fall out at some point for Mk to see, maybe when Wukong’s a little bit more ready to admit just how much his successor means to him.
THANKS, I’M FULL OF FEELINGS NOW ALKDFMOQWI;EFASD
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lady-divine-writes · 3 years ago
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Good Omens - Taking the Cake (Rated G)
Summary: When Aziraphale decides to host Warlock and Adam's 12th birthday down at his shop, he tells Crowley they'll be doing it without magic. That's all well and good until Crowley is called upon to finish decorating the cake... (1551 words)
Read on AO3.
“Ho there! Mmph... angel? Ngk... ” Crowley grunts, stuffing himself through one door of Aziraphale’s bookshop, the other holding stubbornly to its frame. He barely makes it through, lugging copious bags bulging with party gear, his long fingers curled around handles strained thin by the weight.
"In here, dear," Aziraphale replies, giving no indication that he's coming to help. Crowley picks an aisle and starts walking, navigating the narrow expanse between late 18th century classics and Roman philosophy. 
“I got everything on your list," Crowley says when he spots his husband. "Goodie bags, balloons, streamers, poppers… “ He pauses inventorying when he comes up behind Aziraphale, deeply engaged in the creation of a buttercream rosette.
By hand, no less. 
Aziraphale insisted they throw together this entire party like natives, and that meant no magic whatsoever. Crowley couldn’t understand why. Miracling together a party is literally a snap. They'd done it hundreds of times over the years. It's how they hosted their wedding. 
With a snap.
That did, however, create a mountain of paperwork, which led to Gabriel and his henchmen finding out about their shindig and showing up uninvited. Surprisingly, they didn't cause much in the way of trouble. They snickered a little, made a few snide remarks, but they mostly spent their time "observing" from a table in a far corner, mingling with no one as if above it all. 
Crowley tensed when they arrived, but having a few party crashers didn't go too badly... until the karaoke began. 
“Is that the cake then?”
“Yes. I’m almost done.“ Aziraphale pinches his tongue between his teeth, steadying his hand as he adds a peony this time.
"It's gorgeous," Crowley says in awe. "Truly stunning."
"Thank you, my dear," Aziraphale says, glowing from his husband's praise.
"But... " 
Aziraphale's shoulders instantly go rigid. 
Crowley hates to do this to him. The cake really is a masterpiece of confectionary construction. But it needs to be said. "Warlock and Adam are turning twelve."
"And... ?" 
"Don't you think they might appreciate something a bit more... I don't know.... befitting of a pair of former antichrists? Like a zombie with bleeding eyes? Or a raven with sharp, pointy teeth?"
Aziraphale glares over his shoulder at Crowley as if insanity has finally set in. "Ravens don't have teeth!"
"I know! That's why it would be terrifying! Right up their alleys!"
Aziraphale shakes his head, going back to his peonies. "This is a birthday cake! Not a Halloween cake! Besides, I only know how to make flowers. Anything else would require magic, and you know how I feel about that. Besides, I'm certain they only care about the insides anyway, and it's crammed full of chocolate. I don't think they'll mind a crocus or two."
"Fair enough," Crowley concedes.
The clock in the corner chimes, and Aziraphale sighs. He looks over at it, then double-checks the time on his pocket watch. Crowley checks the time on his watch, too, although he doesn't know what for.
"Three o'clock," Aziraphale observes. "Damn."
"Wot's wrong?"
"I’m afraid I’m running a bit behind.”
“Anything I can do to help?” Crowley asks, piling his sacks on a nearby chair.
“As a matter of fact, I have to pop out for a few," Aziraphale says, handing Crowley the piping bag, "but this cake needs one final touch.”
“And that is?” Crowley holds the bag between his fingers the way he would a dead rat, wary that he might be called upon to construct the same delicate flowers Aziraphale has. Without his magic, Crowley doesn't have anything near Aziraphale's talent with icing. 
Warlock and Adam may just get a gruesome cake after all.  
“I just need it to say 'Happy Birthday Warlock and Adam'.” Aziraphale bustles about, grabbing his coat off the tree and throwing it on. “The handwriting doesn't need to be immaculate, just legible. Could you do that for me?”
“Pfft. No problem," Crowley says, secretly perceiving a problem. "Piece of… “ 
Aziraphale stops on his way out the door to give his husband an exasperated look. Crowley snickers. 
“Well, you know,” Crowley finishes, shooing Aziraphale out the door. "Ta-ta now. Mind how you go."
***
"Damned antique dealers and their damned negotiations! Ignorant bast---" Aziraphale stops short of cursing. It doesn't matter what happened, which was extremely upsetting. There is no need for bad language. He hurries down the crowded sidewalk, going over the details of the past hour-and-thirty in his head. "I was doing them a favor, and look how I'm repaid! I'm late to the party I'm hosting! There's a fine how-do-you-do! Ungrateful humans! See if I stop another Apocalypse for you, in your tacky grey suits and your cheap pointy shoes... "
Aziraphale stomps up to his door, keys in hand, but stops outside when he hears laughter on the other side. He peeks through the dusty glass, and his shoulders sag. 
The party is for the kids. He knows. But he was so looking forward to celebrating with everyone from start to finish. That and he didn't think he'd take this long, so he neglected to relocate his first editions somewhere secure. 
He fears for their safety.
Icing is notoriously difficult to get out of parchment and ligament, even through the use of miracles.
He should have never taken that stupid meeting to begin with. He had a feeling it wouldn't pan out.
Oh well. 
No need wasting any more time on that than already has, he thinks, bucking up and unlocking the door. Time to stop feeling sorry for myself and start celebrating while I still have the chance...
Aziraphale takes a step in, ready to announce his arrival, but stops dead when he hears jazzy scatting in a sonorous voice. 
A voice that doesn’t belong to anyone he knows.
Aziraphale walks in further, scanning those gathered, and makes a minor correction to his original assessment - doesn’t belong to any human that he knows. His eyes blow wide, his cheeks burn red, and his husband's name explodes off his tongue before he even opens his mouth.
"Anthony J. Crowley-Fell!"
Aziraphale doesn't say anything other than his name and Crowley starts apologizing. "I'm sorry, angel!" he says, running across the shop to greet him, but not looking the least bit sorry. 
"I gave you one task!" Aziraphale bellows, snapping his fingers and slamming the door shut, his no-magic edict flying out the window. "Just one little thing! And you couldn't do it!"
"I'm no good at writing!" Crowley defends with the shadows of an infuriating grin on his face. "My hand gets all wobbly! I didn't want to risk ruining any of your lovely flowers!"
Aziraphale, splotchy-faced and buggy-eyed, glowers. "You couldn't write a simple Happy Birthday, so you enchanted the entire cake!? That was your brilliant plan!?"
"I'm a demon! Of course, that was my plan!"
"Crowley!"
"They showed up right after you left! I had no time! I panicked!"
Aziraphale drops his head into his hands, shaking it slowly back and forth. Crowley reaches out to put a comforting hand on his husband's shoulder until he hears him counting backward from one hundred... in Akkadian. Then he creeps his hand to his side and quietly steps off. 
Aziraphale breathes in deep through his nose and out through his mouth, struggling to ground himself. He has no one to blame but himself. That's the painful part. In the back of his mind, he knew something like this might happen. 
He's impressed it isn't worse. 
He should have never left his husband alone.
Next time, he'll hire a sitter.
Aziraphale continues counting, continues breathing, and as he does, he pays more attention to the goings-on around him.
The cake singing is quite unsettling, but the children are gleeful, the adults joyful. Joking, teasing, and enthusiastic conversation fill the spaces in between. 
Much like their wedding reception, except there isn't an archangel in sight. 
And Crowley's magic was instrumental in making that day memorable.
Maybe Aziraphale overreacted with that 'no magic' rule. Crowley's face fell when Aziraphale told him they'd be hosting the boys' birthday at his bookshop sans magic, but he'd recovered quickly. The streamers and balloons Crowley managed to toss on the walls look plenty festive, but they don't compare to what could have been had Aziraphale allowed Crowley to tap into his imagination.
Their guests are having a grand time despite the modest decor, but it could have been so much more. They are an angel and a demon! Between the pair of them, they could have whipped up a true spectacle, if for no other reason than they still owe poor Warlock after last year's fiasco. 
What would have been the harm of calling upon a little divine intervention? 
An alarming thought pops into Aziraphale's brain, and his head snaps up. “They’re going to cut into that, you know. Is that when the enchantment ends?”
“Nope.” Crowley rubs his palms together. “That’s when the fun begins.”
"Uh... "Aziraphale's jaw drops. "Good Lord," he moans, Crowley cackling when Adam runs to fetch the cake cutter. Aziraphale's mind whirls with thoughts of what fun could imply, but there's no time to ask. While Crowley starts laying a drop cloth, Aziraphale puts his coat away and relocates his favorite books into his back room for safekeeping.
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telemna-hyelle · 3 years ago
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Listen, I’m am Totally Here for all things Palace of the Four Swords, but isn’t ‘The Dark World’ of the downfall timeline just the Sacred Realm that’s been corrupted by Ganon?? So I’m the non-corrupted timelines the four swords are just put to rest chilling in the sacred realm in their own fancy palace under the Triforce. I always thought the swords being there in the first place was likely done by Dot after Four(s) passing so that the sword(s) that are Literally fused with parts of his soul couldn’t be used by anyone else and he could Rest In Peace.
Yes, you are absolutely right! My general headcanon seems to be the same as yours--that Four lived a long and peaceful life (because it never says otherwise and you can pry my happy endings out of my cold dead hands) and after he died, the Four Sword was placed in the temple for safekeeping, so that the bits of Four still inside the sword can be at peace.
But in a lot of the Palace of the Four Sword fics I've seen it's been actual-still-alive-Four who was somehow trapped and sealed inside the four sword and poor baby first-adventure Legend ended up fighting him and killing him and didn't know what was going on until too late. 
Which is really sad, and so I thought I'd try my end at making a happier version.
Which I'm not sure I've succeeded at yet. 
Anyway, my fic is still in drafting stages so I haven't quite figured it out yet, but it either has a) in the real world, there's an entrance to the Palace of the Four sword that's accessible from Hyrule, and once you're inside all possible access to the sacred realm has been sealed off. The Palace is essentially in it's own pocket dimension for all intents and purposes; or b) the Palace has somehow been brought to the real world and hidden deep in the woods or something. As to why such a thing has happened?
Well.
I did say Twilight was one of the ones who stumbled upon the Palace at the start of the fic. 
Make of that what you will.
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lettheladylead · 4 years ago
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Not Your Aunt
Chapter 3: Gladstone [ao3 link]
It’d been a year since Scrooge started regularly babysitting his niece and nephew. Goldie had only had the misfortune of interacting with them a handful of times, though one of those handfuls was a week-long bedridden visit where they asked too many questions and got way too attached to her. So before leaving, she stole from their piggy banks to teach them an important lesson: Goldie O’Gilt is not their family and she’s certainly not their aunt.
The next time she visited after that, the kids seemed properly sour and uninterested in her, so clearly they got the message. Or they just had a bad day. Either way, she could focus on Scrooge and treasure and then move on with her plans. She was able to visit without interacting with children a good half a dozen times after that, which really made her days go faster. It was nice.
She was stopping by in early February to grab some items she’d left behind (for safekeeping, of course) when Goldie learned that Scrooge’s family was continuing to...expand. There were now twice as many children in the mansion and the two new kids were apparently not deterred by Donald and Della’s attempts to warn them about their uncle’s thieving ex.
The kid in green found her in the foyer and lifted up his sunglasses to wink at her. “Well hello there!”
She blinked down at him. “...hello.”
He shuffled closer and stuck out his tiny little hand. “Gladstone Gander! And you are…?”
Goldie pinched his hand between two fingers and gave it a single shake before letting go. She didn’t appreciate the tone she was getting from this child who couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve. “You can call me Miss O’Gilt.”
Gladstone pouted at her response and then shrugged before putting the sunglasses back. “Suit yourself. I’m a real catch!”
“I’m sure,” Goldie groaned. “Where’s Scrooge? I need to talk to him.”
The kid pointed towards the stairs. “Uncle Scrooge is in his office, I think.”
“Uncle?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did Hortense have another kid or...are you Matilda’s?” The concept of Matilda having a child had Goldie immediately confused. She was pretty sure she knew that woman’s goals and motherhood was never on her list. They’d bonded over the lack of interest once in the past.
“Huh?” Gladstone tilted his head. “No, Auntie Hortense is married to Uncle Quackmore, who’s my mom’s brother. Who’s Matilda?”
Goldie closed her eyes and put two fingers to her temple as she felt a headache forming. She supposed if they stretched the definition enough, then Scrooge could be literally anyone’s uncle even if they had some gigantic distant relation to him. It was kind of annoying. “I guess she’s...also your aunt. You’ll probably meet her someday.” With that, Goldie turned around and started towards the stairs.
The kid followed her and she resisted the urge to punt him into another room. “So you know Uncle Scrooge and Auntie Hortense? Are you Uncle Scrooge’s secret wife?”
“No.” She didn’t even give him a glance as she headed up the stairs.
“Does that mean you’re single?” he asked with a toothy grin.
Goldie looked down at him again and then rolled her eyes. “You’re a bit young to be at this level of annoying.”
“Annoying?” Gladstone put a shocked hand to his chest and frowned. “You must be unlucky like Donald and Della. Only unlucky people call me annoying!”
Alright, that was a curious enough statement to make Goldie pause and lean against the banister. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Gladstone walked up another few steps so his head was about the same height as her’s. “I’m the luckiest goose in the world! Even luckier than my mom!”
Goldie quirked an eyebrow. “Luckiest in the world, huh? How would you know that?”
“I know that ‘cause...I’m Gladstone Gander!” He did a little spin and stuck his hands into his pockets before pulling out a dozen twenty dollar bills. “I found all of these just on my walk earlier!”
She stared at the money and, on reflex, plucked a few out of his hands. He didn’t even react as she pocketed them. “That’s pretty normal when you’re walking around Scrooge McDuck’s mansion, kid.”
He reached into his pockets again and pulled out another dozen bills. “No, no, these aren’t from Uncle Scrooge! I got these while walking around town!”
That caught her attention a bit more. Goldie pocketed a few more of the twenties before putting a hand against the bottom of her beak. “That does sound particularly lucky.”
He gave her a thumbs up, clearly happy that he’d convinced her of his gift, and Goldie thought about her plans for the weekend. She’d intended on grabbing a pair of earrings she’d left in Scrooge’s dresser and a mystical gem-finder he’d locked up in his Other Bin before heading to Macaw, but...perhaps she could use a partner. Well, more like a sidekick. Or a mascot.
“How would you like to go on a trip and really put your luck to the test?”
-----------------
Despite him being a very, very annoying little kid, Goldie had to admit that bringing him along was worth the frustrations.
She’d never done this well at the Galaxy Macaw, especially not at the slot machines. She could cheat her way through any old card game, but playing with other people brought too much attention to her presence. And the owner would be very unhappy if he saw she’d returned after what happened last time.
Her disguise wasn’t particularly artful - just a short black wig and green-tinted sunglasses - but it was enough to keep security from noticing her striking blonde amongst the sea of dark-haired birds around them. Gladstone managed to win a new little outfit for himself within a few minutes of entering the casino, and Goldie was happy that no one questioned the child’s presence. After a few wins at the slot machines, earning herself and her little partner a significant bit of cash, Goldie let the kid wander off on his own and started casing the place, getting ready for the actual reason for her travels.
“Miss O’Gilt?” Gladstone asked as he reappeared, tugging at her hand to get her attention.
“I told you not to use my last name here,” she hissed in response, glancing around to make sure no one overheard.
“Oh, right!” He tapped a finger against his chin. “So, then...Aunt Goldie, why exactly are we here? Not that I’m not having fun, but…this all seems kind of random.”
She held back a growl at the name - why did these kids always lean into the “aunt” moniker first? - and plopped her hand on top of his head. “Don’t worry about it. You should just keep having fun while I cash out and take care of some business.”
He shrugged. “Alright, but I bet I could help you with whatever you’re really here for! Uncle Scrooge never lets me help him find stuff ‘cause he says it’s cheating, but this is just how I live, y’know?”
Goldie removed her hand from his head and laid it on her hip. “I appreciate the offer, but this is something I need to take care of alone.” She glanced around the room and paused at the sight of a line of phone booths. “If I’m not back in a half hour, call your uncle to pick you up, alright?”
Gladstone followed her line of sight, then turned back to look up at her. “Are you doing something dangerous?”
“Hopefully not, but you never know.”
The kid pouted and leaned back on his heels. “...are you sure I can’t come with?��
Goldie crossed her arms over her chest. “Just stay here,” she said sternly, and quickly disappeared before Gladstone could follow.
He frowned and looked around himself. He knew nothing bad would happen to him, but it was still weird for an adult to leave him alone in a place so filled with strangers. Goldie was certainly unlike any other adults he’d spent time with, and he wasn’t at all surprised that Donald and Della had such conflicting feelings about her.
That being said, he could see a snack stand not too far away, so he rushed over to grab some pretzels. As soon as he arrived, the man running the stand gave him a big toothy smile, said he was the one thousandth customer of the day, and then handed him a giant pretzel for free.
It was nice being Gladstone Gander.
As he chomped away, a big banner above some of the slot machines caught his attention. In bright, bold letters he saw the words THE MACAW RUBY and more information about it being some rare, potentially mystical artifact that would be on display starting at 5 o’clock sharp.
He thought about that for a moment. From what he knew about Goldie, which wasn’t much but he’d understood the gist of it, she liked to steal things. Really cool, expensive, fancy things. He didn’t have to be a genius to put two and two together and realize she was after that ruby.
Whether or not she wanted his help, Gladstone decided he was going to be a part of this. After all, maybe the ruby would just come into his possession thanks to his luck! No one would need to steal anything, it would simply belong to him. And then he could give it to her and she’d give him a hug as thanks and who wouldn’t want that?
By the time he arrived at the place where the ruby was going to be displayed, it was only a few minutes to five and Gladstone took note of the extremely heavy security detail in front of the curtain. If Goldie hadn’t already gotten the ruby, there was no way she was going to get past all of them.
So he walked up to one of the guards and locked his hands behind his back. “Hi there!”
The guard looked down at him and didn’t respond.
“I’m Gladstone!”
Still no response.
Gladstone pouted, but he was pretty sure he could charm this guy into showing him the gem. “Can I see the fancy ruby?”
The guard made a face at him before turning to look at another guard and then proceeded to speak in a language that Gladstone didn’t recognize. He realized after a moment that it was probably Mandarin, which would make a lot of sense, considering where they were.
The other guard walked over and grabbed Gladstone by the back of his shirt, holding him up in front of his face. “Where’re your parents, kid? You shouldn’t be walking around here by yourself,” he said in a rough, heavy accent.
Gladstone frowned and crossed his arms. “I’m no kid! I’m just really short for my age! And I’ve won, like, fifty thousand dollars today, so you can’t tell me what to do!”
The guard frowned and his grip on Gladstone’s shirt tightened. “What’d you just say to me? I’m not in the mood for some brat and his-”
“Excuse me, sir,” a new voice called out.
All three boys looked over to see Goldie standing there, arms crossed and looking certainly unhappy, and with a purse over her shoulder that Gladstone didn’t remember being there when they’d arrived at the casino.
“That’s my nephew you’re manhandling, you oversized hog,” Goldie growled, reaching out and grabbing Gladstone so she could properly plop him down next to her. “You treat all your guests like this?”
The guard stood up straight and glared at her, pointing angrily towards Gladstone. “You might wanna teach your kid some manners, lady! He won’t be so lucky next time he pisses me off.”
“I’m sure that’s very difficult to do,” Goldie said with an eyeroll. “Come on, Gladdy, it’s time for us to go.”
Gladstone just nodded and took her hand. As they were leaving, a bunch of rich-looking snobs were walking in the opposite direction, probably excited to see the fancy gemstone that was about to be unveiled. He was pretty sure Goldie had already taken it and it was sitting in her bag right by his face. Though he wondered if she replaced it with a fake or if things were about to go crazy in this casino.
A moment later and Gladstone turned his head at the sound of an announcer and some clapping and a stunned silence and then an audience-wide gasp. Goldie clutched his hand a little tighter at the sound of the gasp and he noticed she’d picked up a tiny bit of speed.
With her walking faster, he fell behind her and looked up to see a shocking and unfortunate sight: a few strands of long blonde hair had fallen out from under her wig and were completely visible to anyone who could see her back. He opened his mouth to say something when he was cut off by the loudest scream he’d ever heard from someone that wasn’t Donald.
“IT’S GOLDIE O’GILT! GET HER BEFORE SHE GETS AWAY!”
Suddenly Gladstone was picked up and being held in Goldie’s arms as she quickly exited the building and ran towards the nearest available taxi. He didn’t even have a second to breathe before she had the driver heading towards the airport as fast as he could go.
She tore off the wig and sunglasses and shoved them into her bag, which Gladstone noticed didn’t seem to get any bigger as she did. He looked into it and saw what seemed to be some sort of endless vortex. Neat!
Goldie laughed and patted his head. “Good job out there, kid. That was fun,” she said as she reached into the bag and pulled out another wig - this time it was brown and wavy. It seemed she was prepared for the possibility that someone might try following her.
“Thanks, Aunt Goldie,” he responded with a smirk, remembering how much that name annoyed her earlier. “So where’s my cut of the profits?”
She raised an eyebrow at him and clearly looked like she was about to laugh at his question. “Why don’t we focus on getting you home before we talk about that?”
Gladstone put a hand to his chin in thought. Really, money wasn’t an issue for him. He found money all the time, and even when he didn’t, his parents had plenty of money of their own. But he did feel like Goldie owed him for all his help. “Okay, sure.”
-------------------------------------
First their taxi driver gave them a free ride because he was in such a good mood, then their plane tickets ended up being free thanks to a clerical error, and they were given a free ride from the airport to Scrooge’s mansion because who the hell could keep track of all the reasons why things were free? Goldie was certainly enjoying the perks of carrying around Scrooge’s little luck magnet. If she didn’t have places to be, she’d stop by his office and yell at him for not telling her about the kid sooner.
That being said, he was starting to get a little too attached and it was bugging the hell out of her.
“So when are you gonna visit again? We could go to another casino!” Gladstone said excitedly, bouncing in his seat. “Or some other place you’d need my luck for. An underground poker game, maybe?”
Goldie chuckled and leaned back, recognizing the area the taxi turned into as only a few blocks from Scrooge’s place. “Look, kid -”
“Gladstone!”
“...right. Gladstone. This has been lots of fun, but you shouldn’t get confused. I’m not a part of your family, I’m not gonna just stop by and visit and take you on trips all the time. I just conveniently already had plans to go somewhere where I’d benefit from some luck.”
He frowned. “So this is it? You’re just done with me now?”
“Well…” She shrugged. “I don’t like to limit myself. Who knows what the future will hold? I just wouldn’t get your hopes up or plan for me coming back anytime soon.”
Gladstone pouted again and let out a quiet hmph! before turning to look out the window. They’d arrived at the front gate of Uncle Scrooge’s house and he’d decided he was just about ready to leave.
They came to a stop and Gladstone quickly opened up the door and stepped outside, stretching dramatically and yawning. He turned to say something to Goldie when he was cut off by a loud, familiar screech.
“THERE HE IS!”
Gladstone turned to see Donald and Uncle Scrooge running towards him from down the sidewalk. He was very confused to see that they’d gone for a walk instead of hanging around the house, since they never wanted to go for walks when he was in the mood.
“Hi, Uncle Scrooge-”
Scrooge ran over and swept Gladstone up in a giant hug. “We’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, lad! Where’ve you been? What did you…” Scrooge’s words faded out as he noticed the familiar smirk staring at him from the inside of a taxi.
“Hey there, hun.”
“G-Goldie?!” Scrooge looked at her and then down at Gladstone and then back up at her. “Did you take him?!”
“Sure did,” she responded with a shrug. “I left you a note in your office. You should really pay more attention to these things.”
Donald just watched this conversation with a frown. He wanted to assume that Aunt Goldie was lying about leaving a note, but he also knew that Uncle Scrooge definitely didn’t check and just assumed the worst when they couldn’t find Gladstone all day. He’d been screaming about how Daphne was going to kill him for losing her son, but it seems he didn’t lose anyone at all.
Scrooge sputtered angrily at Goldie, holding Gladstone against his legs and trying to find his words. “You-! You...you kidnapped him!”
“I did no such thing, you old miser. He wanted to come along,” Goldie said, glaring angrily. She turned towards her cabby and said something that the boys couldn’t hear, then the car started to drive away.
Scrooge glared right back until Gladstone, a few moments later, shook himself out of Scrooge’s grip and ran towards the car. “Wait! But-! What about my profits?!” he shouted as it turned onto the next street over.
Gladstone sighed, realizing his luck wasn’t gonna bring his money back to him. Though he guessed he still had a really fun time and he didn’t exactly need the money, so maybe that was enough. He looked up to see Uncle Scrooge staring down at him. “What’s up?”
“Should I be concerned about this?” Scrooge asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Gladstone shrugged. “Should I be concerned that a stranger came into your house and took me on a trip across the globe without you knowing about it?”
That one shut Scrooge up, and he huffed before turning around and heading back to the manor. Gladstone looked over at Donald who just seemed to be confused.
“What’s wrong, Donald-o?”
He frowned and shrugged. “I’m just surprised that Aunt Goldie took you on a trip, is all. She’s never taken me or Della anywhere.”
Gladstone slapped Donald on the back a little harder than he meant to, making the slightly younger duck quack. “Eh, I wouldn’t think too hard about it. Ladies can’t resist my charm, after all!”
Donald rolled his eyes. “You know she’s Uncle Scrooge’s girlfriend, right?”
“Huh?” Gladstone put a hand to his chin and thought about some things Goldie had said to him over the past twenty-four hours. He nodded slowly. “You know what? That makes a lot of sense. Yup, yup. That explains everything.”
“So happy for you,” Donald mumbled and started the long walk back to the manor.
Gladstone quickly caught up to him and smiled brightly. In fact, he just wouldn’t stop smiling at his cousin. He was smiling so much that it was making Donald even more irritated than he’d already been.
“What?”
“Don’t you wanna know about my trip?”
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tinisprout · 3 years ago
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No Doubt in Us
Chapter Two - She Has Amnesia *written chapter below*
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Fiance!Haknyeon x Fem!reader
Synopsis: Life is great, you have your dream job, you finally got your first big break, and you are now engaged to the love of your life. Happier than you’ve ever been, you live life one day at a time. Then one day a terrible accident happens leaving you in a coma. Where you finally awake, everything is not as you remember. Amnesia takes away 3 years of your memory, forgetting your beloved Fiance. Faced with a reality that seems unreal, as your mind is stuck in a past with uncomfortable memories, your future with him is uncertain.
Send me an ask if you want to be put on a taglist for this series.
Word count: 2.3K
Warning: none
The House you were met with was unfamiliar, thank goodness Chanhee was here to give a quick tour of the house. You came across some familiar things, but most you didn’t recognize. Chanhee helped you explain the situation to your parents and you agreed to see each other sometime next week. They both had taken a lot of time off work to see you during your stay in the hospital, so you told them to just hold off for a while, promising them that you were fine.
You were thankful for the painkillers you had, or it would have been impossible to wash by yourself, though they made you feel a little drowsy. As a precaution, Chanhee stayed in case you had an accident by yourself. Getting cleaned up felt refreshing, but you didn’t take too long or your mind would wander. You stepped out of the shower covering yourself with a towel and stood in front of the mirror. Wiping the steam-filled mirror, you brought your face closer to the mirror, examining yourself for the second time today.
Your hand lightly grazed over a scabbed-up wound on your forehead. Sliding your hand down your fingers glide across your features, it’s similar but different. Turning your head at different angles you could see your looks had matured a little. It was you no matter how you poked and pulled at your skin. Letting these smaller changes bother you wasn’t going to help you any, so you backed away from the mirror and went out of the bathroom.
You looked around your room, Chanhee showed you around but it was just a quick introduction, you didn’t get to examine everything. The room consisted of a big dresser with a mirror hung behind it, a hanger rack, a queen-sized bed next to the big window that showed almost the whole of downstairs, and a smaller window with a view of outside, in front of the window was a small desk and chair. You looked at the things strewn about the top of the dresser. There were perfumes and colognes, lotions, makeup, and birth control. You took birth control before you met Haknyeon so you weren’t shocked to see it.
Picking it up you pop one out of the packaging swallowing the pill. Damn, how long has it been since I last took one? Hopefully, my next period isn’t too bad. The main reason you started taking birth control was to regulate your period and make it lighter, you weren’t sexually active. You weren’t against it you just hadn’t found someone you felt comfortable enough to go all the way with, your desire to do it wasn’t very high either. Your thoughts drifted to Haknyeon, have we… No! Not the time for this. I can worry about that later.
After a search through the dresser, you grab your underwear putting it on. You looked at the clothes hung up, some of them you recognized, some you didn’t but they were in your taste. You opt to put on some comfy clothes, it was still too early for pajamas. Going downstairs where Chanhee waits for you, he lays on your couch messing with his phone. Chanhee sits up making room for you. Taking the free spot you lean back sighing.
“Sorry for taking up your free day.”
“I was planning to visit you later anyway, I’m just glad you're back. I’ll leave when Haknyeon comes back, He should wake up soon enough.”
“So… tell me about this Fiance.” You looked at your ring finger staring at the indent left on it. Reminded by your action, Chanhee took your ring out of his pocket and handed it to you.
“Put it in your pocket. Find someplace to keep it later.” You followed his orders, putting it in your pocket. He kept the ring for safekeeping after finding out you discarded it. When he heard what you had said to Haknyeon in full, he was shocked and felt bad for both Haknyeon and you. He thought for a bit, “Haknyeon is kind, like, really kind, and caring to others, so much so to the point that he sometimes neglects himself. He can be very emotional. He is a smiley person, always a positive thinker. Honest to a fault at times. A bit of a worrier, but generally free-spirited and carefree. He is kinda a goofball with his friends. Just like you, a hard worker, he is always pushing himself. And his appetite, he is a foodie if I ever met one, he will literally eat anything...anything.” You took some time to process all that he said, trying to imagine the man you saw acting in the ways Chanhee mentioned.
“Hmm.” Hearing your awkward reply Chanhee changed the subject. Talking about miscellaneous things as time passed, you both eventually became hungry.
“I can order something, I don’t really feel like cooking and you shouldn’t try cooking yet.”
“Okay.” Chanhee gets up, going on his phone while pacing around the room. Unbeknownst to you, Chanhee text’s back Haknyeon.
C: Yes, I'm still with her, and glad you’re ok.
H: Thanks, Hyunjae is taking me back home now.
C: I’ll leave when you get here, also tell Hyunjae I said hi
H: will do.
After he finishes texting Haknyeon he glances back at you, now laying across the couch. Then he actually starts ordering food.
In the car sat Hyunjae driving, Sunwoo in shotgun, and Eric and Haknyeon in the back. After texting Chanhee and leaving the hospital the boys talked about all sorts of things to help Haknyeon get his mind off of you, though it didn’t seem to help much considering his replies would be shorter than normal. Then Haknyeon spoke first.
“Guys, can I just cry right now.” No one answered him as they felt lumps form in their throats. Eric reached over and gently wrapped his arms around Haknyeon. Taking this as his cue he held onto Eric and wept, his whimpers filled the car. Eric rubbed his back, crying silently along with him. Sunwoo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not sure what to do with himself. Hyunjae gripped the wheel tighter, biting his lip. His friend was crying his heart out and he couldn’t do anything to help him. It was a situation completely out of everyone’s control.
Getting back home to you gave him a mix of emotions. He wanted nothing more than to have you back home, but he never expected you to be in such a condition. When they finally arrived at his house, Haknyeon texted Chanhee one last time before getting out of the car. Hyunjae, Sunwoo, and Eric got out of the car as well. They all surrounded Haknyeon, giving him words of encouragement.
“We’ll be here for you, just talk to us whenever you need.” Sunwoo put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, he gave a small squeeze.
“Thanks, guys. Chanhee is waiting, I'll go inside now.” They all gave him a big group hug before he went, and Haknyeon felt really grateful for his friends.
Chanhee checked his phone and got up from the table after stuffing a few more bites in his mouth. “I gotta go,” he says while covering his full mouth.
“He’s here already?” You wipe your mouth, also standing up.
"Yup, I'm sure he'll come in any second now. The two of you need to talk." You weren't sure what to say, it was very sudden. Chanhee hugged you quickly, "Hey it's gonna be okay, I promise." After pulling away then came the sound of the door being unlocked. In walked the man you met when you woke up. Your eyes met each other for a moment and he looked away at the approaching Chanhee.
“Hey, Chanhee.”
“Haknyeon, I’m glad you’re okay.” Chanhee went in for a hug and Haknyeon returned it. You watched the natural gesture. They must be close, you thought. They parted and Chanhee went to the door saying goodbye to the both of you, closing the door behind him. With that, you two were alone together for the second time today.
“We should talk shouldn’t we?” You said offering an awkward smile, feeling nervous.
“Yeah.” You moved back to the couch leaving the food on the table, you would take care of it later. Haknyeon followed after you but did not sit on the couch but instead on the floor, across the coffee table that was in front of the couch. Haknyeon checks your hand, the ring still missing from it. He clenched his fists in his lap, he should have expected that, but it still broke his heart to see.
“Today I’ve been told a lot of new information about myself and I’m not sure what to think of a lot of it. It seems surreal, like a dream, but everything I see just confirms it’s real. I- I want to try and remember these things about my life,” About the things I’ve accomplished. “But I need some time to adjust to everything here,” In this house with you. “I’m going to need some space, to think about what I want,” And I don’t know if I want you. Many words were left unsaid, but you didn’t know what else you could say?
“I- I understand. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in your own home, so don’t worry, I won’t force you into anything.” Those words gave you a little comfort and you thanked him. “I will be going back to work tomorrow, so you probably won’t see me, but call me if you need anything.”
“Okay, sorry for the trouble in advance.” Haknyeon looked you in the eyes, you looked the same save for a few still healing scars, but your distant attitude towards him hurt even though he tried to prepare for it.
“I’m going to go take a shower.” He was generally a clean boy, but since your hospitalization taking care of himself was less of a priority. He would take care of himself when your mother would show concern every time your parents came to visit you. She would always be sure to cook him something and remind him to clean up saying things like, ‘When she wakes up, she’ll be so sad to see you like this, please take care of yourself.’ Thinking about her words now was like a laugh in the face, even if he looked his best it wouldn’t have mattered.
“Ah, then I’ll stay down here then.” The only shower in the house was in your shared room. Needless to say, you wouldn’t be waiting in the room for him.
As Haknyeon washed the filth from his body he thought about what he would do starting tomorrow. He didn’t need to go to work Saturday and Sunday, but he would so he could give you your desired space. He was going to do it for you, at least that’s what he told himself, it was true for the most part. Getting out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, he walked to the big window next to the bed that exposed a view of downstairs. His eyes searched for you, finding you standing at the sliding door leading to the backyard, staring at something unknown. He turned and walked away so he could get changed. You felt eyes on you, so you turned around and looked at the window to the bedroom, but all you saw was the back of a head before it disappeared. You decided to sit back down on the couch before he came back down.
Haknyeon came back downstairs with clothes on and a towel hanging off his head. He roughly rubbed at his damp hair and sat in the same spot as before. He looked up at you the towel covering his head like a hood, he looked a little sad like that. “You can sleep in the bedroom, I can take the couch.”
“Oh, but-”
“You don’t want to sleep in the same room do you?” He was right, you didn’t, so you kept your mouth shut instead. “It’s fine, I understand. Besides, you are the recovering patient, not me.” Well technically, he also got discharged from the hospital today, but you knew what he was trying to say, you wouldn’t try to argue again.
“Okay, thank you. Um, if you’re hungry, Chanhee ordered some food, I put it away in the fridge.”
“Alright, thank you for letting me know.” Strangely enough, he wasn’t that hungry and didn’t really feel like eating. Going back upstairs to your room you look at the bed it was neatly made, you wondered if that was your doing or his. You looked out the window and your eyes looked at Haknyeon making his bed on the couch and then your eyes fell to the sill, it was dusty. Is that normal? No, surely I would clean it. How long has it been since someone has used this room? You decided to not think about it too deeply, you would clean it later. With those thoughts, you went into bed and let sleep take you.
You would never know that when Haknyeon would come home from the hospital, he couldn’t sleep peacefully. He would stay up through the night sitting in the living room thinking about you, wondering when you would wake up, waiting for visiting hours to start again. There would be points where he would fall asleep and he was haunted with nightmares of a crash he never witnessed. Sometimes you would call for help, but he could never reach you. He could only sleep better when he was with you, nightmares would still happen but they would be less often and they felt less traumatic. Thankfully tonight, for the first time in a long time, He dreamt of nothing. But it would be a short-lived peace.
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animalanie · 4 years ago
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Oneshot - Teen Wolf [Exit]
A/N: Hey, everyone! So, I wrote this Oneshot a LONG time ago and never published it. I think it’s finally time to unleash it. Enjoy!
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Title: Exit
Pairing: Theo Raeken X Gender Neutral Beta!Reader
Word Count: +2.2K words
Warnings: Potential spoilers
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Here you were, stuck after school, once again, to work on potential non-lethal weapons. Scott’s exact words rung in your mind as you handled the equipment in your hands with care. 
You are the only one who can help us now. I didn’t want to trouble you with too much with what’s already going on, but we have no choice.
You sighed and placed your hands against the tabletop of the desk you were working on, keeping the unfinished weapons to the side. Ever since Allison passed away, Scott’s pack had recruited you and now your job was to provide them with weapons. 
You were in his friend group from the very beginning but never considered yourself part of the “pack” until he said it himself. Another tired sigh escaped your lips as you noticed the wall clock in the front of your Chemistry class. Realizing how late it was, you brought your hand up to your lips as you yawned.
"Looks like someone is going through a rough time." The all too familiar voice echoed throughout the empty lab and you looked up, suddenly cautious of your surroundings, but most importantly him. At the sight in front of you, you subconsciously clutched the edge of the desk in front of you as he casually walked further into the classroom.
"What do you want, Theo?" You growled at him as he chuckled in response and dragged his fingers against each table he passed tauntingly.
"If I remember correctly, I used to be the hostile one." He looked up at you as he finally stood next to you, momentarily glancing at the equipment you were working with.
"Pretty sure that still hasn't changed." He shrugged at your comment, as if it truly meant nothing to him. Without another word, he stuffed his hand in the pocket of his jacket before pulling out a small vial containing a rare, but uncomfortably familiar liquid.
"Where did you get that?" You grabbed the vial instantly and examined it to make sure it really was what it appeared to be. Before you could do anything to it, though, he snatched it from you and shook the vial lightly.
"Can you make a bullet out of it or not?" Not wasting a single moment, he jumped straight to the topic and waited for your response. You, on the other hand, simply stared at him with wide eyes, not believing what he had demanded from you.
“Why do you think I would help you with that? For all you know, I could call Scott and his pack to come and get you.” You growled at him, letting your claws grow for your protection if you needed it. Theo, noticing your defense immediately, chuckled lowly and shook his head.
“Will you, now? Alright, I’m right here. Call them; your phone is right there, on the table.” He pointed to it as you followed where directed, staring blankly at the black screen of your phone. “But you won’t. Is that it?” He moved closer to you at the taunt and you stepped back immediately. 
“Don’t come any closer.” You pulled your hand up in front of you, showing your claws as a pathetic attempt at intimidating him.
“Or what? You’ll hurt me?” He tilted his head, seemingly enjoying this mindless chat. “Aren’t you the only weapons master left in the pack? Were you Allison’s replacement after she died?” Your hand wavered at the assumption, your teeth beginning to chatter in anger.
“Replacement? Please, I was in the pack before they even considered you.” You tried your best at fighting back verbally as you noticed his eyes soften before he looked away.
“Is that so? Then why do I feel like you seem to always be in the dark?” He finally gathered his thoughts and turned back to you, a new fire ignited in his eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”
“Of course, you don’t. They didn’t tell you anything. Maybe, it’s because they don’t trust you enough yet. If you make them more weapons, maybe, they’ll finally let you in.” Theo leaned closer to you, making you falter, and grabbed your wrist in a swift move after seeing you let your guard down. 
Before you could react, his other hand grabbed your free one so you could attack him no more. Feeling unnecessarily restrained, you growled at him as your eyes glowed a bright yellow. A small smirk crossed his face as he stared down at you before leaning to whisper in your ear.
“I can do that too. Don’t think you’re going to scare me with that.” He pulled away to look at your expression but you turned your head away, feeling disappointed in yourself. When you felt him loosen his grip on you, you yanked your hands away from him and stepped back, tidying everything up so you can leave.
“Why would you need a bullet made out of rare wolfsbane? What the hell are you thinking?” You spoke up as you looked up at him briefly, getting straight to the point, and his eyes on you narrowed as he placed the bottle on the desk next to you. 
“Pray tell, why do you need to know that?”
“Because I don’t take any orders from just anyone. Especially without knowing the reason behind the weapons. Well- having said that, I won’t help you either way. Keep that in mind.” You shrugged your shoulders as you stuffed a few papers in your shoulder bag, not bothering to look at him anymore. But your breath hitched the moment he stepped closer to you and gently stopped you from doing anything else.
“Well, I’m not just anyone. I’m your ex-boyfriend.” You snapped your head in his direction, feeling anger coursing through your veins.
“And that’s for a reason! On the other hand, it means there is nothing between us anymore.” You were about to turn away but snapped your fingers at him before continuing. “Which also means that you need to exit!” You pointed at the doorway and took the vial that rested on the tabletop, safekeeping it with you for the moment.
“Exit? This room?” He asked, his voice dropping in pitch as he stared at you.
“Yes- and even better: exit my life as well!” You spoke through your clenched teeth, watching his expression morph into one of disbelief. You repeated the words in your mind once more, questioning their weight, perhaps, a little too late.
“Go, please.” You muttered and turned away as you bit your lip after seeing him nod his head silently. 
“I will. After you admit that you at least missed me a little.” He turned back to look at you, waiting for you to respond, but you continued to stare at the table. “Tell me you wondered where I went off to without telling you-”
“That’s the point, Theo! You left without telling me! I didn’t know what you were doing, where you were. Were you dead, alive?! I didn’t know!” You yelled, finally breaking through the barricade you had put up for yourself to remain calm. “But you know what?! Because of that, I finally felt like I had a life. I went back to my old friends and they welcomed me like nothing had happened between us! Maybe, it was all a sign!” You waved your hands to emphasize the miracle you had been exposed to as you grabbed the strap of your bag, ready to leave. 
Theo, on the other hand, seemed to have different plans as he stepped over to you and trapped you between himself and the desk by slamming his hands on the either side of you. You jumped at the sudden proximity and looked up at him, surprised. 
“If it is the way you say it is, then tell me: why does your heart rate go up every time I step closer to you?” He tilted his head, making sure to make you feel enclosed as you stared anywhere but at him. “Look at me, Y/N.” He growled under his breath and bend down to block your vision.
“Theo, leave me alone.” You whispered as you leaned away from him. “Just leave me, just like you left me before.” You closed your eyes as you remembered the horrible time you had trying to get over him. All the feelings rushed back to you in that instant as he stood mere inches away from you.
“You keep talking about how I left without saying anything when you don’t even know what happened, do you?” You fell silent after he muttered, giving him a chance to continue. “You say that you finally got together with your friends like nothing had happened. If that was so, they would have told you what they did to me.” 
“What do you mean ‘they did to you’?” You asked and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Part of you did not want to listen to what he had to say but you seemed to push that part away with the passing second.
“They are the reason I left without a word. They sent me to hell. And I am not talking figuratively, I’m talking literally.” He glared down at you as if he was reliving the memory. You could see the muscles in his arms tensing up as he turned his head away, exhaling a rushed breath. 
“You have no idea what it was like.” He shook his head as he stared at nothing in particular. “I don’t want to go back. Never again.” He muttered before finally turning back to you, an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes.
“Theo,” You muttered and paused as you tried to think of words- any at all. But, you were left speechless after the learning that your own pack had been involved in your ex-boyfriend’s disappearance.
“You can’t continue to blame me, Y/N. I didn’t even have any control over it.” He sighed before clutching his head and looking back at you. “I just want to know if what you feel for me is... just hatred.” He trailed off and gulped before opening his mouth again. “Or do you feel the same way you used to?”
“Theo, I-”
“Does anyone else make your heart beat the way I do? Tell me.” He leaned his forehead against yours and you felt your heart race the very instant.
“Don’t be so persistent, Theo.” You closed your eyes as you focused on his heart beat. His heart was racing just like yours and his breathing had become heavy, as had yours.
“Y/N, give us another chance.” He mumbled and you felt him place his hands on the either side of your jaw to cradle your face gently.
“Why?” You whispered and opened your eyes soon after you were responded with silence. You looked up to see his conflicted gaze as he tried to say something. When he noticed you open your eyes, however, something in him seemed to spark.
“Because I love you.” He whispered back, making you widen your eyes in shock. “I know: I never said it before, which is why I’m saying it now. I care about you, Y/N. I don’t want to let you go.” Your hands subconsciously went up to his while they still rested against your jaw as he momentarily closed his eyes.
“Do you... do you mean it?” You hesitated and he opened his eyes to look at you before nodding instantly. You sighed as you thought over it before biting your lip. 
“Don’t make me regret this, Raeken.” You finally accepted and his expression lightened up as soon as you finished your sentence. 
“Don’t worry about it.” He whispered as he leaned closer and bumped his nose against you, as if asking for your permission. When you chuckled, he finally closed the gap between you and connected his lips with yours. Without wasting a second, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss as your hands wandered in his hair. In response, he pressed his body closer to yours and let his hands grab your waist.
You pulled away slightly to catch your breath but Theo followed your lips as soon as they left his, capturing you in another kiss.
“Theo-” You mumbled between the kisses he bestowed upon you and he hummed in satisfaction before finally tugging on your bottom lip and letting go. After looking at your expression, a satisfied smirk crossed his face as he pulled you closer by the waist. You wrapped your hands around his neck and looked at him as a small smile appeared on your lips.
“I love you too, Theo Raeken.” You mumbled as you played with the back of his hair lightly, making him widen his eyes a little. 
“I know.” A smug look crossed his face as you shook your head before remembering why he came to you in the first place.
“By the way, uh, I still can’t help you with the bullet.” He chuckled as he saw your troubled expression.
“That’s fine. That bullet was only an excuse, anyway.” He winked at you as you gasped in disbelief and mock betrayal, making him hug you closer. 
“Though, I doubt I’ll need more excuses to see you anymore.”
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missfay49 · 4 years ago
Text
Just Look
Summary: Logan and Virgil get to know one another at college.  Just a very fluffy, slice of life, analogical comfort fic.  Some real-life-style joy.  
Warnings: food mention, covid awareness, mentions of past emotional abuse
Word Count: ~2613
AO3
"here"
Virgil hits send on the text and looks up from his phone to the entrance of the campus garden.  
It's a warm morning for September, so he's wearing some loose jeans, a grey t-shirt and the new mask he just got in the mail - black with a picture of vampire fangs on it.  He hangs out awkwardly by the front entrance for a couple minutes until Logan appears from inside.  He's wearing jeans, too, with a long-sleeve white shirt and gardening gloves on.  A dark green mask is hanging from one ear.  It swings when he nods Virgil in.
"Come on in.  I tried waving, but you couldn't see me," he says, turning around to lead the way.
"Sorry," Virgil says, hopping to follow close behind.  Logan turns his head back, looking confused for a second.  Then his eyes crinkle and he smiles.
"Oh, no worry." 
They walk in quietly.  There are only a couple other people in the garden this weekend, and they're on the opposite side from the plot Logan leads him to.  The rows of plants loom all around.  Virgil doesn't exactly have a green thumb, so he was already skeptical when Logan invited him to come out here, but at least he had seemed to understand he wouldn't be getting any great help.  
Logan kneels down on a blue foam board, putting a hand on an identical one to his left.  Virgil drops onto it with a thump.
"I haven't really been around anyone; do you want me to put my mask back on while we work?"  Logan asks.
"Nah, I haven't really either.  I was able to get most of my classes online now."  Virgil settles into his spot and pulls his mask off, looping it onto his arm for safekeeping.
"Okay, I'm here.  What's the plan, teach?"  Virgil looks around at the tools spread out around them.  Logan claps his hands together once and smiles.
"So glad you asked.  We're going to try some root vegetables this semester."  Logan points out each tray of seedlings in turn.  "Beets, turnips, green onions, kohlrabi, radishes, and parsnips.  Although I hear broccoli also does really well this time of year.  Did you know if you leave it alone, broccoli will bloom into flowers?"
“Huh.”  Virgil stares at the trays.  "Really?"
"It's true.  We can get a head of it from the store later.  Just put it in water and it should work."
Virgil picks up the first tray and wonders if buying broccoli would count as getting himself flowers.
Logan starts going over the plan and tells him the names of all the tools.  Shears.  Weed puller.  Hand rake.  He shows him how deep to dig, how to remove the seedlings from the tray, how to space them out using their hands as measuring sticks, and how much to water each one.  
"I didn't bring any gloves," Virgil says when he realizes Logan is still wearing a pair.
"Not a problem.  I'm done weeding, so I don't actually need these anymore."  Logan says, pulling off the gloves and putting them in his back pocket.  "It's better if we work with our bare hands anyway, thanks for reminding me.  I'll explain why in a minute."
They get to work.  Virgil's head is spinning but he grits his teeth and digs each little hole as carefully as he can.  All the while, Logan is talking about the dirt in astounding detail.
"-Mycobacterium vaccae.  It's incredible, really.  They live in the soil, and studies have shown that just touching it can raise a person's serotonin levels.  And a doctor who gave her cancer patients regular doses of it found that they were happier and livelier.  It did not help with the cancer, unfortunately, but exhaustion is one reason cancer is so hard to beat.  When they tested it on rats, the study said it was like they were on antidepressants."
Virgil tries to listen and work at the same time but after the third time Logan has to remind him the tiny shovel is called a trowel, Virgil rubs his eyes.
"Logan?  For real, why did you ask me to come help you.  I don't know what I'm doing."  Virgil asks, looking lost.  
"I know that," Logan says.  "That's why I wanted to show you."
"What, because I'm clueless?"
"No, because it can help you.  That's why I've been talking about M. vaccae."
"About what?"
"My-ko-back-tear-ree-um-vah-key," Logan claps along.  "The microbes.  In the dirt!  It can literally make you happier.  You mentioned the other day how anxious you've been since classes started up again.  Not to mention that the repetitive nature of this kind of physical work has also been proven to help people relax.  It provides something to focus on and allows for time to practice mindfulness."
"Oh.  That's kind of awesome."  Virgil looks around like he's seeing the garden again for the first time.  
"Right?  When it gets cold, the club is going to set up a greenhouse with the architecture students.  That way, even on the worst days, you could come out here and work off some stress.  I'm already here all the time, so you don't have to worry about fending for yourself.  And that tree there, the evergreen, the garden club says we'll get to decorate it in December.  I'm interested to see how they'll get power all the way out here."  Logan squints, no doubt imagining an elaborate series of inappropriately used extension cords.
Virgil stills for a moment.  Logan gets back to planting, looking over at him once or twice.  The man is clearly trying to figure something out.  Logan recognizes that look very well.  Eventually, Virgil makes up his mind.
"I had an ex," he says, "who used to tell me, every time I was having a terrible day, 'Don't worry.  This isn't the worst day ever.  It's just the worst day, so far.'  Every time."
Logan scoffs and looks at him with both eyebrows raised.  Virgil rolls his eyes and shrugs.  
"I am certainly no expert," Logan offers, "but that doesn't seem very comforting."
"It was not, no," Virgil shakes his head.  He focuses on getting exactly the right depth of soil in the ground for the next seedling.
"That's… not okay," Logan says.  When Virgil doesn't respond, he leans forward to try to catch his eye.  
"It's not," he says again.
Virgil just shrugs again, sparing him a quick glance.
"I mean, he's not wrong.  There are always going to be worse days."  He seems to slump a little as he tries to explain it.  Logan is shaking his head already.
"While that is technically possible, it's biased toward an overly negative outlook.  There will also be better days ahead.  Great days, even.  And anticipating a bad future when you're already feeling bad about the present is only going to make things seem more impossible to overcome.  
"I mean, he always said it like it was supposed to be comforting.  Like a joke, to lighten the mood.  It just… didn't work for me."  Virgil looks at Logan, searching his face.
"If that was supposed to be a joke, let's hope he never gets into comedy."  Logan shook his head harder this time.  "I can't imagine why someone would say something so cold.  And repeatedly.  And when it didn't even work as intended?  Honestly, okay, now I'm a little annoyed, what the heck?  Did he want you to feel bad?  Ridiculous."  
"Maybe he did."  Virgil says.  Logan looks at him, shocked.
"Maybe he did want you to feel bad?"  Logan realizes maybe this story is a little deeper than his dismissive attitude is suited for.  
"I don't know, sometimes I just," Virgil sighs.  "I don’t know how to explain why he did things, really.  Any of it."  He stares at his lap, biting the inside of his mouth.  
Logan softens, just a bit.  
"Well.  I hope it's alright if I confess, I'm glad he's your ex," he says.  "He sounds mean."  Virgil smiles, but keeps his eyes down.  
"Sorry I made it weird," he says.
"It's not weird.  It's just… life."  Logan says, bumping their shoulders together.  Virgil hums and stretches.
They work in silence for a few minutes, making their way slowly down the rows.  After a while, Virgil tsks and looks at Logan's handiwork.  Each plant is spaced out so evenly, it almost looks like a video game farm.  
"How did you learn so much about gardening?"
"Community service."  Logan says offhand.  Virgil blinks and turns his full attention on him.
"What?"  He huffs out the question.  Logan doesn't seem to have heard him. 
"Also, from Marideth Sisco," he continues.  "She does a podcast on NPR.  Have you heard it?  Sometimes I catch it in the morning, but I can never quite figure out their broadcast schedule."
"Wait-" Virgil is grinning now.
"I guess I could look it up."  Logan pauses for a second, deep in thought.  Then he shrugs, apparently giving up.  "I haven't really tried that hard."  
Virgil puts a hand on Logan's shoulder.  The man looks up, hands still digging in the earth methodically.
"Logan.  Listen to me, this is important.  You've done community service?"
"Oh, uh, yeah.  Yup!"  Logan waits a second, glancing down at the plants and wondering if that answer is going to be enough.  Virgil just stares at him, shaking a little from a chuckle.  
"Your hand is really warm," Logan notices out loud.
Virgil snatches it away and shoves both hands into the loose dirt, gripping handfuls of it.  For the microbes, he tells himself.  
"Stop deflecting!" he says, staring hard at his fistfuls of soil.  "What did you do community service for?  Oh, wait, was it like a volunteer program?"  He tilts his head, waiting for Logan to respond.  His smile drops when he sees Logan's face.
He looks so, so pensive.  
Virgil's really excited now.  Wide-eyed wonder levels of excitement.
"Logan, what did you do?"
Logan heaves a sigh, rubbing the side of his neck in agitation.  
"I…" he starts before sighing again.  "I may have set… a small fire… to the science lab when I was in high school.  And even though I didn't mean to, obviously!- they didn’t take too kindly to it since I was, uh, there… after normal school hours."
"What do you mean "after hours", like… at night?  Like, you broke in?"  Virgil's whisper is becoming downright conspiratorial.
Logan looks vaguely embarrassed.  He presses his lips together and sits up, planting his hands on his thighs and slouching.  Virgil is practically vibrating at this point.
"You broke into the school to do rogue science and ended up setting the building on fire?!"
"Well, Virgil!"  Logan brings a clenched fist down on his own knee with a huff.   "They wouldn't let me access the chemicals I needed for my experiment!  At least not in any reasonable quantity.  I had to break in!"
"Oh, my god, Logan.  You rebel.  You absolute troublemaker, you're a delinquent!"  Virgil puts a hand to his mouth to cover up his laughter.
"I am not, jeez.  It was one time!"  He can't help it, he's smiling.  "That is, at least-" He crosses one arm and puts a hand to his chin, looking at Virgil sidelong with a smirk in his eyes.  "-they only caught me the one time."  
That's the last straw.  Virgil starts cackling and Logan glances around to see if the other student gardeners have noticed.  They have, and the looks on their faces just make him join the laughter, doubling over to hide his face behind Virgil.  
"How many-?"
"Shut up!"
"Oh, my goodness-"
They bump shoulders again and Virgil rolls onto his side on the ground, laughing so hard the corners of his eyes are wet.
After a few minutes they compose themselves and keep working, giggling every now and then.  
"One tray left," Logan announces, putting the seedlings between them.  
Virgil leans over and Logan thinks for a second the man is going to headbutt him.  He is rather cat-like, after all.  But, instead, he feels something pinch his shoulder and tug on him.  Virgil has a corner of his shirt between his teeth and he's baring his teeth up at him.  He growls, smiling, and Logan barks out a laugh.
“What are you doing?"  He swears he can see Virgil's pupils dilate.  But the man just releases him without a word and gets back to work like nothing happened.  Logan watches him, the gears in his head spinning on all cylinders.  
"What are you waiting for, Lo?  Let's finish up so we can get some lunch.  My treat.  I gotta thank you for showing me all this, somehow."  Virgil doesn't look up to see if Logan's going to respond this time.  
Logan's feet are bouncing underneath him.  
"Deal," he says and grabs the next seedling.
Epilogue
Virgil is standing with his back to a snow covered dormitory, looking up at the full moon through the steam of his breath.  The cold air on his eyes feels clean and brittle.  He tugs a hood tighter around his head.
A door closes behind him and he turns to see Logan in a bomber jacket and a beanie, lightly kicking the front porch to get his boot on right.  He crunches salt on the ramp and joins Virgil on the sidewalk.  
“Ready?”  Virgil asks, knowing the answer.
Logan smiles and offers his elbow.  His glasses are already starting to fog up.
“Oh, so fancy,” Virgil teases him.  He smirks as he loops his mittened hand through Logan’s elbow.
“Lead the way,” Logan gestures down the street with his free arm.  “I can’t see a thing.”
“Yeah… it’s this way.”  Virgil tugs him in the opposite direction and they make their way toward the center of town.  
When Virgil spots Orion, Logan tells him how to navigate at night by finding due south.  When Logan hears a cat chirping in the brush, Virgil tells him about the Egyptian goddess Bastet, and how black cats really get a bad rep nowadays.  They talk and laugh and go a couple streets too far but pretty soon they’re back on track, no worse off for missing their own timeline.  
Most of the students are back home for the holidays now and the chill keeps much of the rest of town from making an appearance.  They take their time looking at the decorations in each business’s display windows, strings of lights crisscrossing overhead.  They dash across to the town square in between meandering cars, slipping on the ice and laughing from the adrenaline.  
Logan quiets when Virgil comes to a stop and sees colors blinking across his upturned face.  He turns to find they’ve arrived.  Towering over them is the largest evergreen he’s ever seen, every square inch covered in lights and bows and wreaths.  He takes a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs, and lets it all out.
“Wow.”
Virgil has a smug look on his face as he gazes up at the tree.  Logan bumps their shoulders together.
“Hey,” he whispers.  “Thanks for showing me around.  And thanks for being my friend.”
“Dude, stop being weird.”  Virgil shoots Logan a look and starts tugging on his jacket strings absentmindedly.  “You don’t have to thank people for things like that.”  
“Well, a little clarity never hurt anyone.”  Logan adjusts his glasses as if that settled things.
“...Fair enough.  Let’s go get some coffee.  I know a place.”  
Logan just nods quickly, realizing he’s shivering.  They make their way up the next block and duck through a glass door, getting blasted by the warm smell of coffee and cinnamon.  It’s good.  
It’s so good.
~~~
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@sanderssidesgiftxchange​ @winterknight1087​
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typicalmidnightsoul · 4 years ago
Text
Home video fic
My first prompt fic. This was requsted by  @ Dayanna_Cahill_Fray_Chase and @my-fan-side. Nesta discovers a home video which she watches with her sister basically.
The edits are basically a story board so plz check that out I wasn’t going to post these but my cousin made me <3 Love ya cuz.
If you have anymore prompts feel free to send them to me <3
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Cassian woke up trying to reach for Nesta but instead finding a cold side of bed. He had gone to the rooftop pool with Nesta and safe to say they had a…rough night. He pushed himself up and leaned against the headboard, the bathroom door was open giving him a full view of his fiancé’s back in that pretty white bathing suit. She was putting on mascara, her clothes on the heating rack in the bathroom.
“Where are you going?”
“Starbucks then my old house. It’s about time I cleared that place up.”
He grimaced, the old house as in the villa she grew up in that have reminders of her dead parents.
He started getting up only to have Nesta push him down, “You didn’t get much sleep last night,” She started fixing her bandanna in the mirror, “Stay. I’ll see you later.”
He rolled his eyes, “You didn’t get much sleep either.”
“That’s why I’m going to Starbucks,” She winked and trotted down the stairs leaving.
Well then he could also get Starbucks.
------
She was waiting in the line, scrolling through Instagram not bothering to look behind her. As she got to the front she smiled at the barista,
“Hey could I have-” a hand came around her waist.
“Caramel macchiato, Venti with extra whip, please.”
The barista smiled, “And for you sir?”
Cassian smiled, “me? Well-“
“He wants a Venti iced hazelnut macchiato, no whip and light ice.”
“Names?”
Cassian pinched her waist, “Nessie and Cassian.”
Nesta threw him a harsh look.
They moved along to the end.
“What are you doing here?”
“Helping you clear up your parent’s villa.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You know sweetheart you chug down coffee like its water I don’t think it’s healthy.”
“Shut up Cassian.”
The baristo handed their drinks to them giving Nesta a flirtatious smile which Nesta returned only to piss Cassian off.
Cassian growled.
She pulled him out of the coffeehouse before he could make a scene.
“Did you bring your car?” she asked him, because she hadn’t, she was planning on taking an uber.
He grunted a response she assumed was a yes.
As they got to his car, he opened the car door for her but didn’t look at her. She rolled her eyes.
She got in his black Bentley, as he got in next to her she pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Baby.”
No answer, “Baby!”
“Yes?” He turned, his lips so close to hers.
“I love you.” She pressed her lips to his, it always worked.
As she sat back, his hand went on her thigh.
“Are you sure you should be going there wearing that, babe? I mean as gorgeous as you look, will you be able to move around in it?”
She looked down at her baby blue Bardot tie front and high waist shorts.
“You’d be surprised sweetie.”
As they pulled up to the rustic villa Nesta sighed. Home.
She jogged up to the front door and opened it.
After all the Archeron sisters had moved out with their respective boyfriends and their father…passed the house was left the exact same way. She assumed it was an Archeron thing as after her mother died everything was left the same in her chambers as well.
She sipped her coffee.
“I’ll get started on clearing up the cellar babe, you get started upstairs ok?”
She mindlessly nodded heading upstairs; she had somewhere she needed to go. Something that was begging her attention.
She trotted down the marble hallway into her mother’s second room. The room she didn’t share with her father that she slept more and more in after their marriage was breaking. She went in and gasped. If Nesta didn’t know better she’d think her mother had gone to a party, because the room was immaculate, but still somehow like her mother.
Her mother’s perfume slanted on the table as if she’d just used it, her coat slung over her arm chair, a corner of her duvet folded over.
Her eyes got watery at the jewellery box on her mother’s dressing table.
She opened the box and sighed at the tune playing which she always sung along too and did so now.
“…and when you speak angels sing from above and every word seems to turn into love songs. Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be-”
She broke off at the twin bracelets in the box. She had given it her mother, when she was 13, in the morning for safekeeping because school wouldn’t allow it and forgot to get it back.
White gold chain bracelets with white gold hearts on them. She slid the bracelets on and underneath them, now out in the open from their absence were…pen drives. They had a gold geometric stick.
She giggled at how classy her mother is. Was. Her smile faded.
But what would her mother need to hide in a pen drive in her jewellery box of all places. Footsteps coming upstairs, she slipped the pen drives inside her pocket and closed the jewellery box.
Hands on her waist, lips skimming her neck.
“Clearing up, baby?”
She turned, “I was just about to start.”
“Oh really?” he looked around, “Who’s room was this?”
“My mom’s chambers, her second room.”
“Funny how she left everything for you. You must’ve been her favourite.”
“I was.”
They had countless arguments on this. Him defending Feyre and Elain, her standing her own ground. He was under the impression that Feyre was a villain in her story. She was. And Cassian wouldn’t accept that. He tried to justify Feyre’s actions. Nesta ended up not talking to him for 4 days, because on that topic she never argued for too long, just shut down.
This is why he didn’t push an argument today. She was trying to fix the bond between her sisters. But when the wound is fresh it doesn’t heal as quickly.
She was meeting them tomorrow. Ugh.
At least Cress would be there.
“My heads hurting I wanna go home.” He nodded and led her downstairs. As they got in the car Nesta felt like a hole was burning her pocket.
“Babe you ok?” He asked.
She nodded. Looking back onto the clear expanse of her childhood estate.
“You weren’t wearing those bracelets when we went in. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”
She smiled, “I was getting in the car for high school and mum came out to give me my watch and she said, ‘Nesta jewellery isn’t allowed at school’ so I gave these for here to keep safe and forgot to take it back, she’s kept it safe for 11 years.”
He reached over and kissed her cheek. “They look amazing on you.”
-----
She clicked off her phone and tried to pull her brown mini skirt lower.
“Cresseida says she’s still on her flight from Manhattan. She should be here in a couple of hours.” Feyre and Elain both nodded, Elain stood.
“Want coffee?” Feyre nodded.
“Wait, Elain it’s my house I’ll-” Elain waved her off getting out three mugs. Nesta went and sat opposite Feyre.
“No need to make anything I have a stash of frappe’s in the fridge.”
Elain put the cups away and started picking out flavours.
Nesta took a deep breath.
“So I went to our old villa with Cassian yesterday…” Elain stopped her rattling of the bottles, Feyre sat up, “And I found these from mom’s old jewellery box.” She took out the pen drives.
“Cute. Have you seen what’s in them?” Feyre asked.
“No I thought I’d show you guys as well, just in case it’s a list of bad people.”
Feyre chuckled, “You watch Blacklist too much.”
Nesta rolled her eyes and got her projector out.
Elain came passing around the glass bottles she had topped with whipped cream and red straws.
Feyre gave Nesta a look.
“What? I brought this projector and literally haven’t used it since.”
She plugged it in.
A video started playing.
“Momma I can’t reach!”
A woman came into the shot, picking up the little girl in the middle of the orchid.  
“It’s ok sweetie! Mama’s here.” She picked out the lemons and handed one.
A male voice from behind the camera said, “Nesta look at the camera darling!”
The woman turned showing her pregnant tummy and pointing the camera out to Nesta.
“Daddy I want to pick a lemon.”
The camera was passed onto to someone else and Randolph Archeron ran to Nesta taking her from his wife and placing her behind his head. Nesta picked a lemon and giggled showing it to her mother who was behind her. Adelaide took the lemon from her and went on her tip toes. Nesta leaning back to kiss her mother on the lips.
The video froze for a few seconds.
“Nesta what is-” Elain asked.
“It’s a home video, from when we were younger.”
Feyre glued her eyes back to the wall.
The video changed.
Nesta, Adelaide and Feyre were picking and posing with oranges. Elain holding the camera.
“Smile!!!!” her voice said.
Nesta dropped an orange.
“OMG Nesta!” Elain shrieked, “You’re ruing my shot!”
Nesta picked up the orange, “Ok geez.”
Feyre had started peeling the orange in her hand causing their mother to burst into laughter at Elain’s shriek.
Again another video slid in, a longer one this time.
“Come on Feyre!” Nesta shouted.
“Cominggg.” The camera started running towards Nesta and Elain.
“We were really cute,” Elain said.
Feyre nodded, “I can’t believe she kept these. Where even are we?”
“In Verona I think.” Nesta said.
They were wearing hats too big for their heads.
Elain stopped.
“Dad can I go with you I’m tired.”
Randolph chuckled from behind the camera and held out his hand.
“You were such a daddy’s girl,” Nesta said to Elain.
Elain swiped cream on Nesta’s cheek.
“Get Cassian to lick that off later.”
“Idiot.”
“Come on Fey,” Adelaide picked up Feyre and took Nesta’s hand.
She took their hats off, and held them.
They made their way through the tomato fields into the house. Nesta took the camera from Feyre and ran into the hall. She set the camera down on a counter and started dancing on her own.
“What are you doing Nes?” Adelaide came and picked Nesta up giving her a piggyback; Nesta giggled and clutched her tight.
“She loved you a lot,” Elain looked at Nesta, who was staring at the screen. She didn’t answer, unable to at the longing in Elain’s voice and in Feyre’s eyes. They had always been their father’s child; Nesta had always belonged to her mother. She had stayed with her mother till the end.
Little Nesta in the video said to her mother, “Where’s Feyre?!”
Her mother chuckled, “I don’t know sweetie.”
“Let’s find out, we shall go on a secret mission,” She took the camera off the counter and shoved in her mother’s hands,
“You hold the camera.”
“Oop, ok wait for me,” They ran through the house hiding next to the door look into the kitchen. Feyre had taken out an easel and had started painting.
“Honestly, she’s already started painting, Help me God,” Adelaide laughed at mini Nesta’s sass.
Nesta burst through the door, “Oh Feyre, whatcha doing?”
Feyre looked up and grabbed Nesta, “Good thing you’re here Nes, I needed someone to paint.”
Nesta flicked a lock of hair over her shoulder, “Of course.”
After a few minutes of Nesta fidgeting, Feyre screamed at her to "Sit still Nesta!!" But Nesta kept on looking over at what Elain was doing in the garden.
Adelaide sat down on the kitchen table, the camera jolting.
The video flicked to the next one.
Adelaide was walking up the stairs.
“We seem to have a messy situation downstairs. Proceeding with caution.” She flipped the camera hiding on the landing to show Randolph and his 3 daughters making cookies, Nesta as the first person to notice squealing,
“Momma!!” She ran into her arms smearing her with flour and icing.
“You smell like cookie dough!!!”
Their cookie making continued, throwing flour at each other.
The clip ended. Another one rolled.
“Welcome to our house tour at night.” Adelaide started.
Adelaide started walking through explaining the pictures on the wall.
“There’s me and the girls. Me and Nesta. Randolph with a very tired Nesta. Aw, look at my baby. Nesta with Oliver. Good god if he wasn’t like a brother to her then I would’ve predicted these two would’ve got married.” She laughed, “Well the guy who does get married to Nesta must be a really lucky man. There’s Feyre with her canvas look at her artist in the making. Elain with her flowers that she grew herself, my little gardener!” She moved along to some other picture her voice growing less fond, “Mine and Randolph’s wedding pictures, our anniversary. Lord knows where he is nowadays.” She went quiet, “Anyway let’s check on the little ones the nanny must have put them to sleep.”
She went into a big room, where Nesta was sleeping. The room was light and airy with fairy lights on the wall and Polaroid pictures.
“There’s my baby,” she caressed a hand down Nesta’s face pressing a kiss to her face. Nesta wriggled.
“Goodnight baby.”
She moved into another room, a pink one this time, “There’s baby Elain with her little elf doll.” Elain lay in a plush pink bed in the middle clutching onto a knitted elf doll. Her mother fixed her covers and pressed a kiss to her head.
The next room was covered in with plush toys, the walls covered with stuck on paintings she did at school and at home.
Feyre was still wearing her apron. Adelaide tutted, placing the camera on the desk and holding up a sleeping mini Feyre getting her out of the apron. She put her back to sleep and pulled the covers over her. Pressing a kiss to her forehead as well.
She looked at the camera.
“Can’t wait till they grow up. Hopefully they won’t turn out like me or Randolph. Oh Lord just let them be happy. Especially Nesta. I overheard her telling her teddy that “Daddy doesn’t love her,” I hope she finds someone who does. Who chooses her and keeps on choosing her every day. And this one-” she stroked Feyre, “she should get out from behind that easel every once in a while, just like how Elain needs someone who will be gentle with her as she is gentle with her flowers. I’ll probably show this video to my grandkids, embarrass their mums.” She laughed at the thought.
A door opened and shut.
“Randolph’s here. Let’s find out where he’s been. So bye future and old me and Nesta, Elain and Feyre. I love all of you.”
The video clicked off.
Nesta was toying with her ring. Tears slipping down her face as she knew it was slipping down Elain and Feyre’s. Her mum would have loved Cassian. Well, maybe not at first but…yes she really would have. She smiled at her sisters. Not being able to say anything.  
-------
She had showed Cassian, obviously.
And he’d…well.
He was a fan of their mother.
And then she’d started crying,
“Baby, are you ok?”
“I miss her.”
“well couldn’t we get all those pictures she was talking about in the video and bring it here.”
She hadn’t thought of that, “But the house is in Verona.”
“Book tickets for us tomorrow so we can go the day after.”
She paused for a minute then squealed,
“Baby, baby!! You are the best.” She kissed him deeply.
She broke away smiling mischievously down at him.
“Can we take the yacht?”
She squealed again kissing him even deeper.
Tags: @skychild29​ @my-fan-side​
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gripefroot · 4 years ago
Text
Overheard
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Bucky, humming a pitchy but fondly remembered tune that reminds him of his favorite nights, is too distracted to notice anything strange about Sam and Natasha standing in the hallway. He just hops down the stairs, gives them an indifferent glance, and turns away for the gym even as Nat’s elbow goes into Sam’s stomach, and Sam grunts in protest before saying, in a much-too-loud voice,
“Yeah, I heard that SHIELD team is coming back tonight!” 
“The mission in Belgrave is done already?” Natasha says back, equally as obvious.  
“Fury led the mission, so of course it finished fast!” Sam replies. “Stark is meeting with Fury tonight. The agents will be back sometime soon, then.” 
“SHIELD sure moves quick when they need to,” Nat finishes, and Bucky, temporarily stalled by this obvious display of something, shrugs before continuing on, and ignores the sound of their hissed whispers behind him.  
The clear staging of this conversation for his benefit is less on his mind than a few sprinted miles in the gym, heart pumping, and a quick round of weight-lifting. He had planned on taking more time, with nothing else to do these last few days, but...all things considered… 
Bucky would thank Sam and Nat for their staging, but he has somewhere to be. And that is where his mind goes - he dares to whistle in the showers, puts on his nicest underwear, and leaves the Tower feeling rather good. Good enough to stop at a shop for several armfuls of flowers, and because he hasn’t eaten since lunch and maybe you’ll appreciate the thought - a paper bag filled with candy bars.  
Skyscrapers reach up to kiss the pretty dusky sky, and he can only smell the flowers - cheery, bright blooms that would bring a smile to anyone’s face, he thinks. Should he order something for dinner, too? You’ll likely be starving, unless SHIELD has started serving meals on hours-long airplane rides, which he doubts. 
The door to your apartment swings open with a creak - the key you’d given him a few weeks back goes back into his pocket for safekeeping: the most second most precious thing he’d been given in this life (the first being you, of course), and all these thoughts make his brain a fuzzy, content place to be as he flicks on lamps, arranges the flowers around the bedroom to perfume the air, and even rummages around for some candles and a lighter. Because why not.  
While he’s hanging his jacket on a hook near the door, his phone buzzes - Bucky’s heart thumps a little extra when he sees your name, and the text: Gonna be in NY soon. Doing anything tonight? With a winking face that somehow, magically, carries your precise sultry mischief.  
He can be mischievous, too.  
I’m upstate training, he lies, but the prospect of hearing your pleased laughter when you see him is too good to resist. Sorry babe. Maybe tomorrow? 
Bummer, is your response, as Bucky chuckles to himself as he heads back to the bedroom to wait. Literally, a bummer. Was hoping to see your cute tush tonight. Missed it.  
Maybe I’ll send a pic later.  
Threatening a girl with a good time, are we?  
He laughs more, and replies, Maybe.  
Almost in New York. You’ll be here soon.  
And how is this the longest stretch of time in the last week? It’s unfair. Bucky sighs, and plops down on the made-bed to stare at the ceiling - your ceiling - and breaths in the fresh apple scent of your sheets. A little distant, a little old - but it’s there, and so are you, beneath the lonely days away.  
He dozes - doesn’t mean to - but when he can relax so easily where he feels safest, it’s no surprise. So when the door creaks again a couple hours later, Bucky’s eyes pop open and blink furiously, mildly disoriented but eager once he remembers - you’re home! - and he swings his legs over the side of the bed to say hello. 
But there’s no hello - as soon as he opens the bedroom door, a thin, cold blade is pressed to his throat, and he backs up a pace in surprise - but the knife follows him, and out of the shadows comes your wary face, squinting in the light for a baffled moment before the knife leaves his throat, and without your eyes moving from his face, the knife returns to the holster at your thigh.  
“Upstate, huh?” you ask, and that familiar spark returns. A wry smile, and Bucky lets out a choked laugh.  
“I may have flubbed the truth a little,” he admits. “Welcome home, babe. Didn’t you recognize my jacket by the door?” 
“I saw it,” you tell him. Nimble fingers reach up to unzip your jacket now, and your smile grows. “Didn’t look close enough. Figured you were just a run-of-the-mill burglar.”  
“Clumsy burglar,” Bucky laughs.  
“Who apparently thought that surprising a secret agent was a good idea.” Your voice drifts across the room as you lean into the closet. Grinning, he steps back, taking his time laying back on the bed with a lingering yawn as you bend over to unlace your combat boots, next.  
“It was a fine idea. If you did attack, I could take you.”  
A burst of laughter. “In your dreams, maybe.”  
“Definitely in my dreams. I always come out on top in my dreams.” 
Slanted, amused eyes in his direction - but Bucky just smiles back, and winks. It really is amazing how something as simple as your homecoming can cheer him up so much. He might never understand how you do that, but he doesn’t need to.  
“Anything exciting happen while I was away?” you ask, straightening to toe off your boots, pushing them aside before closing the closet doors. Bucky’s eyes drift down the length of your bare right arm, and frowns, flubbing slightly over his next words as he tries to catch up. 
“Huh? No, of course not. You’re the life of the party - what happened to your arm?” 
“Would you believe me if I told you I won a wound in single combat with a man twice my size?” 
Bucky stares at your face - your pursed, sheepish lips, your sparkling eyes with mirth ready to spill over at any moment. He snorts.  
“Any other time, sure,” he says, and with a grunt sits up on the bed to beckon you close with his hand held out, to which you oblige. Fingers lace together readily; intimately acquainted and at least on his part - aching for yours. Something clicks into place in his chest with the squeeze of your fingers as he grins up at you - everything is right in the world again. “But with that look on your face, babe? No way. How did it really happen?” 
Your nose wrinkles. “I cut a corner ‘round a door too closely and the latch tore me open. Don’t tell anyone. I can’t let anyone know how clumsy I am.”  
“Your secret is safe with me,” Bucky says solemnly.  
But instead of further joking around, your free hand lifts to cover a yawn - immediately warm concern makes him frown, and he asks, 
“Haven’t slept, have you?” 
“It’s tradition not to sleep on missions,” you tease, but your eyes are bleary.  
“Bed for you,” Bucky tells you sternly. 
“No shower?” 
“Only if I get to shower with you.” 
“Oh, no,” you say in a monotone voice. “However will I survive?” 
“You’ll manage. I’ll go start the hot water, then.”  
“By boiling it on the stove, you mean?” you ask, quirking a brow as he stands, and Bucky’s lips twitch though he keeps his smile under some control.  
“Well, in my day - ” he starts.  
“In your day you had to walk to school uphill both ways in the snow,” you finish with a laugh. “Go on, then! Light the candles and incense. You know I can’t shower without my incense.”  
“You’re a nut.” 
“I’m your nut.”  
And because he can - and because he knows it’ll make you laugh and he’s missed your laugh - Bucky sticks his tongue out in your direction before ducking into the bathroom. The reward is immediate, your giggles following him. 
It’s when he’s holding his flesh hand beneath the stream of water to make sure it’s the right temperature that your arms curl ‘round his chest from behind, and his smile is private but no less broad to feel your mouth against his spine, tracing a kiss that causes a sudden shiver from his scalp to his toes. He likes that.  
“Will you stay the night with me?” your voice murmurs into his t-shirt, and he manages somehow to grunt out an agreement. Forget anyone worrying when he doesn’t return to the Tower; this is much, much better… And Bucky nearly yelps as he realizes your slender fingers have hooked into the waistband of his jeans.  
“Now get your cute booty out of these pants.” A sly smile makes him think of hazy nights and stolen, heart-pumping moments. He clears his throat.  
He does not have to be asked twice.  
Despite his impromptu nap, Bucky finds himself deliciously sleepy between your sheets sometime later. Watching as you pull a loose top over your head just brings a tired smile to his chapped lips, which doesn’t fade as you bend over the enormous vase of flowers he’d brought.  
“For me?” you ask softly, clearly delighted.  
“No, for me, silly girl.”  
“Well, you have excellent taste.” A deep breath, taking in the scent, and your smile is as foppish as Bucky’s when you switch off the lamp and crawl into bed beside him. Your yawn that follows is warm on his face as he tugs you closer - never close enough, with you - and kisses the top of your head. There will be no seducing tonight - he’d seen the extent of your exhaustion in the shower; puffy eyes and hidden yawns, and he intends to make sure you rest. But you’re clearly not fighting it: only a few minutes later your heartbeat slows and your hand goes slack against his chest, and he drifts off, too.  
Dusty streaks of sunlight are what he sees first in the morning - blinking blearily, realizing he’s getting poked in the chest. That must’ve woken him. That or your teeth in his earlobe.  
“Bucky - ” An early morning purr that skates across his skin. Yep, he’s definitely awake now.  
“Mmm, babe…” He grunts in return, shifting beneath the blankets away from the too-bright window to instead, bury his face in your hair. A giggle in return for that, which he likes, but your hot breath in his ear doesn’t sigh like it normally does - this morning your fingers are urgent on his cheek, pulling him back for fluttering lashes, a bit lip. “What is it?” Bucky asks, because he knows it’s something.  
“I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday,” you tell him in a pitiful voice. “Will you take me out for breakfast?” 
He pauses, then asks, “Before or after I make sweet love to you?” 
A beaming smile, a sharp, bright laugh. “Before. Otherwise they’ll be out of the bagels I like.”  
“Okay. Up and at ‘em, tiger.” And Bucky pulls back the covers to nudge you out of bed - you’re mostly willing - and he searches around beneath a pillow to find his t-shirt. Socks and jeans, next, as you rummage through your closet, usually something very interesting to watch, and today being no exception. But it’s taking so long. “Babe,” he says after a while - when he’s done tying up his boots, and you’re still gnawing your lip over two different tops. “It’s bagels. You don’t have to dress up.” 
“Sounds like a man who’s never had to charm a bagel before.” 
“You’re right. I’m an apex predator. Bagels can’t escape.”  
“The Bagel Soldier,” you suggest with a smile over your shoulder, and he chortles.  
“You gonna start calling me that in bed, babe?” 
“Oh, absolutely. Which do you think - the black or the grey?”  
“The grey,” Bucky invents in total indifference. “What happened to hurrying so that your bagels don’t run out, huh? By now we could’ve - ”
“I’m going, I’m going!” But your huff of indignity is fake, he knows it, and he just laughs more as he stands. Might as well make your bed while you fuss - no need to be held up even longer. And he’s rewarded well for it, with a lingering kiss and a copped feel. He returns the feel beneath your grey top, making you giggle as you struggle to get your shoes into boots standing on one foot.  
Eventually, all is ready - and the bright morning sunshine is warm above the city sidewalks. Some dampness from melting snow remains, even this early in spring, smelling of diesel and wet and stink. Bucky loves New York, except when he hates it. At least the bagels are good - he wraps an arm around your waist outside the shop to drag you inside, already planning on cutting back on calories this morning. He’ll only have three bagels, instead of four.  
“Should we get some for the team?” Your voice is low in the busy shop, but he can hear you perfectly, and he wrinkles his nose at the suggestion.  
“What did they do to deserve it, huh?” 
“They didn’t call us on a mission in the middle of the night. That was nice,” you point out with a laugh.  
“I guess. You wanna head over there after, then?”  
“Probably. I have to be debriefed from yesterday.” A sigh, a shake of the head - Bucky chuckles as pulls you closer.  
“Poor baby,” he croons, and your head rests against his shoulder. Much as he likes this, he won’t pretend to like the idea of the morning ending at the Tower, where appearances have to be kept and you won’t be curled all cute and sweet around him. Stupid secrets.  
Surprisingly for a Saturday morning, the Tower is less sleepy than he’s used to. A few people in the ground-floor reception area, casting him odd looks (must not work at the Tower then - he finds his novelty generally wears off quickly) as you prod the elevator button.  
“I wonder what Stark has going on,” Bucky remarks as the door closes behind him, and your eyes drift to his face over the rim of your coffee cup. 
“Hmm?” 
“Seems busy. Wouldn’t have expected it for a Saturday.”  
“Maybe he does have another mission for us,” you say with a grin, and he groans in return, hoisting the paper bag stuffed full of bags higher on his wrist.  
“Then Tony is not getting a bagel, mark my words.”  
“Tough customer,” you tease. 
“It’s the weekend, babe. You can’t just expect - ” The elevator doors open with a friendly chime, and Bucky swallows the rest of his protest with a sigh as you suppress a smile, though he does get a wink. 
“We’ll finish that later, huh?” you murmur, he steps onto the landing.  
Immediately all the hairs on the back of his neck bristle - Bucky sees a banner hanging nearby, smells smoke and hears the breathing of about a dozen people - just as his muscles tighten to run, his arm already lifting in front of you in preliminary protection, your whisper is just audible:  
“It’s okay, Bucky. Don’t panic.” 
So when several faces pop out behind couches and around walls, shouting a “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” that rings in his ears painfully, Bucky merely flinches and grimaces, rather than punching anyone in the face.  
It’s okay.  
“The big one-oh-four, huh?” Sam is the first to approach, party hat at a jaunty angle with a noisemaker hanging out of his mouth, which he toots before glancing down at the paper bag still in Bucky’s clenched fingers. “Oh! You brought us treats.”  
“No, these are all for me,” Bucky deadpans, and starts to breathe again - he can feel a quick squeeze of your hand on his elbow before you continue into the room to engage Nat in a quiet conversation, your smile wide but a little worried. 
It’s okay.  
“Bucky! Happy birthday!!”  
A launched figure, bearing a clashing red party hat above cotton candy-swirled hair, emerges from the crowd to fling her arms around his neck - Bucky automatically drops the bagels, which Sam snitches and flees with, to catch Agent 41, her exuberance barely containable.  
“We weren’t sure if you preferred cake or pie, so we got both!” she said breathlessly. “Oh, I was so worried you wouldn’t come back - we expected you back hours ago.”  
“You’ve been waiting for me all night?” Bucky asks, confused, as 41 unravels herself from his embrace, pushing her hat back into place.  
“No, just since this morning,” she says back, brows furrowing in equal confusion. “Steve said you’re usually back by dawn, so we thought.. Oh! Here’s your hat, 28.”  
Passing by, presumably on your way to rebuke Sam - you pause, and accept a glittery purple hat from 41’s back jeans pocket, wasting no time to secure it on your head.  
“Very nice,” Bucky comments, trying not to laugh.  
“You have one for birthday boy, don’t you?” you ask 41 immediately. 
“Oh, of course!” This takes a moment longer to produce - and unfold, into a shining rainbow crown which he barely doesn’t recoil from. Be a good sport, Bucky tells himself with gritty teeth, and forces a smile as he accepts the crown from the delighted 41.  
“Very nice,” you tease back as 41 beams.  
“I’m glad you made it in time,” 41 tells you as Bucky tugs at the elastic beneath his chin. “Perfect timing, really! How’d you manage that?” 
“Spy secret,” you mutter for effect, and 41’s jaw drops before you start to chuckle. “Just kidding, squirt. I just happened to run into him when I was out for coffee. Pure chance. But I figured I ought to make sure he showed up for his own party and made him come with me.”  
“Oooh,” 41 nods, casting Steve a smile as he approaches with some dignity beneath his own blue party hat to give Bucky a grin. “You don’t know where he disappears to at night, do you, 28?”  
“No,” you say gravely as Steve chokes on a sip of punch. “Why, do you?” 
“Not at all,” 41 sighs.  
“You could ask,” Bucky interrupts loudly.  
Steve chokes again, and 41 perks up at once. As your lips flicker with withheld laughter, 41 bursts out, “Bucky! What - ” 
“Would you believe me if I told you I was on a competitive bowling team?” he says.  
“You are? Can I join?”  
“He’s lying, 41,” you cut in with a shake of your head, as if disappointed. “Bucky is clearly a bingo guy. Probably hits up all the nursing homes in town and wipes out the competition.”  
Steve’s face is screwed up - and in a very funny way. Bucky can’t wait to laugh about that with you later, but for now, this conversation needs to be shut down before anyone (mostly himself) says something they shouldn’t, and so he clears his throat, and nods towards your arm. 
“You okay, 28? Doesn’t look like you’re using that one.” 
“Oh, I got injured on my mission,” you say with a shrug, eliciting sympathy from both Steve and 41. “No big deal. Took down a guy twice my size to get it, you know - so it was worth it.” 
“Uh-huh,” Bucky says.  
“Might want to get that looked at,” Steve suggests.  
“After the party,” you promise with a smile.  
“Let’s go get cake! Enough talk.”  
With that, 41 loops one arm through Bucky’s, one through yours, and steers the pair of you deeper into the party where an immense buffet is laid out - but Bucky doesn’t have eyes for it. He’s just admiring that sly look in your eye above 41’s head, and he isn’t upset to realize how well you’d played him this morning. 
And the later you’d promised for making sweet love, might just have to take place in a closet, but he doesn’t mind one bit.  
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rachel1987 · 4 years ago
Text
GWCFT Part 4
Hold onto your hats! June has arrived in town and Hare might faint if she does just one more white glove test. Hatter tries to hold things together during the tea party and the Tweedles are up to something...
xposted on ao3 and FF.net
Part 4:
Hatter made his way to his Hat house quickly, getting all the kettles on the burners in his kitchen before emptying the pink boxes of desserts he had purchased. He had loaded up his arms and made his way through the OUT door when someone made their way through the IN door.
"Mr Hatter? Can I help you with anything?"
"Oh, Alice!" Hatter heaved, seeing her follow him through the OUT door. "Yes, grab some of the sandwiches from the kitchen and bring them out! I'm not used to setting up tea parties without the Hare's help."
Alice nodded and went back through the IN door, leaving the Hatter to empty his arms out onto the table. He tried his best to make the setting look as nice as possible, knowing June would inspect every little thing to make sure it was in order. He was filling the sugar bowls with little cubes in the shapes of carrots when Alice appeared next to him.
"What is Mr Hare's mother like?" Alice asked as she placed little finger sandwiches on pink and purple platters. She looked in surprise as the Dormouse peeked out from around a teacup, eyeing the food she was putting out. Wordlessly, she handed him a cucumber sandwich and he zoomed back to his teapot.
"She looks just like the Hare," Hatter shivered. "Only in a dress."
"No," Alice laughed. "I mean, is she nice? What did she say when you met her?"
"Oh…" Hatter shrugged. "I suppose so." He was more focused on setting the table up right, not too overcrowded but not too empty either. He kept switching teacups and saucers around, ignoring the sounds of the kettles whistling from inside, as well as Alice's inquiries. He also kept swatting the Dormouse away from the food. It seemed the little guy wanted to horde away everything they were setting out.
"Mr Hatter…" Alice looked at him with a confused expression. "Is everything alright? You seem tense."
Hatter shook his head and leaned his lip on the table. "Oh, Alice… Hare's got me all worried about his mother. We have to make sure everything goes well tonight. She expects perfection from him and he's worried about what she'll think. And I can't show him that I'm nervous too because it'll make him more upset."
"Oh, I see…" Alice nodded. "Sometimes my Mom expects things out of me like that too. All you can do is your best. I'm sure she'll love you, everyone does."
"Thank you, Alice," Hatter sighed, tearing himself away to rush into the house, returning with two kettles and filling up the numerous tea pots scattered around the long table. Alice followed along, helping out here and there where she could.
It wasn't long before the other guests started arriving at the party.
First the Tweedles came through the gate, Dum holding a camera and Dee a pad and pencil, both in their editor hats.
"We're covering the party for the Wonderland Bee!" Dum announced. "It's going to be on our front page for tomorrow."
"We already have our headline," Dee nodded. "Meet the Harent! Hare's mother visit's Wonderland!"
Hatter considered this for a few moments, before deciding he'd allow it. "Well… alright. Just make sure you only get my good side," he said, turning to the right, a finger on his chin, and giving them a smarmy smile. The Tweedles looked at each other and blinked, before Dum snapped a photo.
"Who's taking photographs that aren't of me?" came a billowing voice from the gate. The three men turned to see the Queen gracing everyone with her presence, Rabbit following behind holding a bouquet of red roses.
"For the Hare's mother," Rabbit offered, handing the vase to Alice, who put them in a place of prominence on the tea table. The Dormouse had his head out of his teapot, nibbling on a slice of cheese from one of the sandwiches, and gave the flowers a sniff.
"That's very kind of Her Majesty," Hatter commended, a tilt of his cap.
The Queen beamed at the attention and waved her hand in a sense of false modesty, rings sparkling in the sunlight. "Oh, it was nothing," she laughed.
"Literally," Rabbit muttered to Alice. "I'm the one who had to root through the garden to pick them."
The Queen shot him a look and he gave her a nervous smile, fiddling his fingers at his bow tie as he led her to her chair at the table.
"Who else still needs to get here?" Alice asked the Hatter, who kept glancing at the gate for the Hare and his mother. He was getting nervous again, but he was doing his best to hide it.
"Is everyone waiting for me?" the Caterpillar droned as he, somehow, moved his way through the opening in the gate. His legs were working hard, moving his impressive size slowly to the table.
"I think they're waiting for both of usss," came the Cheshire Cat's voice from the tea table. The Cat was pursuing the buffet, eyeing all the snacks, trying to decide which one he was going to eat first.
"Nooo," Hatter furrowed his brow, watching everyone get settled at their places. "We're waiting for the Hare and his mother, thank you very much."
Hatter let everyone get settled, watching as they helped themselves to tea and crumpets. He kept glancing at his pocket watch, then back at the fence, then back at his watch again. The conversation was growing a little, so Hatter took the moment to speak to all his friends before the guests of honor appeared.
Clinking a spoon on a purple tea cup, he called everyone to attention.
"I'd like to thank everyone for coming to this special dinner tea party that the Hare and I are throwing," Hatter started, using his most professional voice. "Before the Hare and his mother show up I'd like to say a couple words."
"Can we start eeeating or do we have to wait for the Harrrrre to come?" came a disembodied voice. Cheshire Cat kept fading in and out so much none of them were sure he had actually stayed or had left for the night.
"Do what you want, Cat," Hatter sighed, not even bothering to look for the source of the voice. "You have no master."
"Darn right!" the Cat said, letting out a cackle before a number of pastries poofed from the platters and into obscurity.
"What is it, Hatter? My tea is getting cold!"
"Sorry your Majesty," the Hatter tapped the brim of his hat nervously, taking a sip from his tea to wet his whistle before continuing. He was already considering opening one of the bottles of wine to calm his nerves and also to get the Queen to take it easy. "The Hare's mother is expecting everything to be very orderly at this party, so we need to keep things under control. So this is going to be different from my usual shindigs. We need to keep things jovial, but not too jovial, not too crazy and certainly not mad. Am I making myself clear?"
"No, actually," the Rabbit shook his head, his ears flopping. "You're telling us to behave ourselves when you're the one who-"
"That's beside the point, Rabbit, hush!" He put a finger out and held it in front of Rabbit's face to shush him. He got to his feet and took a step onto the tabletop, looking down at everyone. "Point is, no throwing china.." he said as he picked up a cup and saucer, "or food at this party" he added, picking up a pastry from a platter. "And certainly no getting up on the table." As he finished, he tossed the cup, saucer and pastry over his shoulder, hearing them clamor as they hit the ground. "You know, table manners are very important things to remember while at a dinner tea party!"
Suddenly, and without warning, the Hatter started tapping his toe on the table and a cane was thrown to him from somewhere stage left. All the Wonderlandians looked at each other and picked up their tea cups, scooting back a little from the table, giving the Hatter room to move. Alice passed both the Dormouse's teapot and the vase of roses to the Caterpillar for safekeeping while the Hatter performed.
Crooning jazz music started and the Hatter flailed his legs around in what might have been an attempt at a tap dancing routine, swinging the cane around wildly and singing about the importance of good table manners. The cups and saucers clanked around as the table shook, though none of them fell to the ground somehow. He walked up and down the lengthy table, dodging platters of food and sweets with nimble feet, none of them being disturbed. He swayed and stumbled around on his toes, causing some of his friends to reach out in fear to try to help him, but he never fell or managed to move a single setting on the tabletop. And, as suddenly as it started (about a minute later), the music stopped, leaving Hatter standing where the roses had originally been, tossing the cane over his shoulder and onto the roof of his Hat house.
There was a cough from the gate and Hare stood there, a look of absolute horror on his mug. Beside him was his mother, dolled up in her best tea dress and gloves, looking at the Hatter with a confused expression. There was a sudden flash from a camera, followed by the chuckles of both Dee and Dum.
"Hare! June!" the Hatter greeted them, taking a bounding leap from the table and striding to the gate, holding it open for his special guests. Alice moved when he bounced off the table, replacing the roses and the Dormouse's teapot in their original positions. "So nice of you both to join us. Welcome to my home!"
"Hatter, what are you doing?" Hare hissed, eyes darting around in anger. "Were you singing and dancing about the importance of table manners again?"
"And doing it while on that table?" June added, giving him a once over again as if her first inspection of him had yielded incorrect results.
"Oh, well…" the Hatter laughed nervously, tapping his top hat as he thought to himself. "Just a party trick, nothing to worry about," was all he managed before Alice swooped in to rescue him.
"Hello, Mrs Hare! My name is Alice, it's lovely to meet you!" she said, giving her best curtsy. Everyone awed and even the Queen was impressed, telling everyone how she had taught her that.
June was, of course, very pleased by Alice's manners and had gotten completely sidetracked. "How kind of you, Alice!" she squealed, balling her hands up together. The girl lead June to the tea table, leaving the Hare to give Hatter a warning glance, muttering about how they hadn't done a song and dance number this whole way through and how it was rude of him to do one without him, before following them to start introductions. They made their way to Hare's usual spot, pulling the chair next to it out for his mother to take a seat. He then took the place on her right, Alice taking the spot on her left.
"Well, now that that's out of the way…" Hatter chuckled nervously, clearing his throat a little as he picked up the kettle to his left. "Who would like a top up?"
Tea was served and the food was passed around the table, everyone filling their plates at least twice. Hare introduced his mother to everyone and she seemed quite taken by all of them. There was a slight glimmer in her eye as she reached a lace glove out to Rabbit, nobody seemed to notice it but him. He gulped and snickered nervously after kissing her hand, resisting the urge to wipe his mouth off in her presence. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the thought of Hare in a dress out of his mind when he looked at her.
After everyone had eaten a little and the kettles had been taken into the kitchen to be refilled, they decided to open the wine and conversation started.
"Hi, Mrs Hare," Dee said as he shook June's hand, squeezing between her and Hare. "I"m Dee and this is my brother Dum and we're from the Wonderland Bee."
"We'd like to ask you a few questions for the paper," Dum added, after taking a photo of her at the table.
June was completely delighted and looked at her son with eyes that swelled with pride. "How exciting! Of course! Ask me anything you'd like!"
"Great!" Dee smiled, taking out his pad of paper and a pencil, licking the tip as he looked at the Hare while he spoke. "First question: what pet names did you have for the Hare while he was growing up?"
Hare furrowed his brow and he shot the Tweedles an angry glare, while the Hatter leaned in to hear June's answer.
"He had so many! I was always coming up with names for my little Marchie. Let's see..." June's eyes scrunched up as she gazed off, trying to remember. "When he was a baby I called him Bubba Boy, because he'd always laugh when he made bubbles in the bath. Then there was Angel Voice, when he started singing. Have you heard my boy's voice? He always got the solos at the church recitals. And Baby Face because of his pinchable little round cheeks…"
Dee and Dum snickered as they wrote notes down, shooting glances at Hare every so often to see his face getting a deeper shade of red.
He sat through a few more questions, feeling sick to his stomach that his mother was actually answering them. She covered his weird Liberace obsession with when he was six, the time he locked himself in two separate closets in the same day and the time he got lost in the shopping mall and security had to lock the whole place down in order to find him.
"And they found him asleep face down in a planter under a purple fountain grass plant, his little bum in the air," June beamed, looking at her son with complete adoration. Hatter was listening to all of his, his elbow leaning on the table and his chin resting on his hand.
"One more question, June," Dum said, scribbling on his pad. "If you had to make a guess about what the Hare's most embarrassing moment in his life was, what would it be?"
"And if you can't think of just one, you can give us a couple," Dee added quickly, waiting excitedly for the answer, pencil at the ready.
Hare's jaw dropped and his fingers flexed, reaching out to stop his mother from answering. Alice stepped in before he could do anything too embarrassing.
"What was Mr Hare like when he was young, Mrs Hare?" Alice asked politely before taking a bite from a fluffy cream filled pastry.
"Yes, do tell…" Rabbit asked with a snicker. He had already finished his first glass of wine and was more than halfway through his second, so he was looking a little tipsy.
"He was an absolute delight," June grinned, taking a sip from her tea. "You wouldn't want to see pictures, would you?"
"Oh, yes please!" Alice clapped her hands and sat up, excited.
"Oh, Mom, you don't have-" Hare tried, only to be cut off by the Hatter.
"I'd love to see them too!"
Hare covered his eyes as June reached into her purse and took out a small album packed full of photos of a very young Hare. Every yearbook picture, birthday and occasion was documented inside. June removed a number of snapshots and passed them around the group, making Hare cringe. If he could, he would have crawled into the Dormouse's teapot and not come out.
"This one is cute," Hatter remarked, showing Hare a photo of himself with a very round face and glasses that were far too large for him. He had a crooked grin and was sitting in a sandbox next to what must have been a mud pie and had pink bandaids on his knees. He also had a rubber chicken wearing a party hat sitting in the sand next to him. "You were a fan of chickens even then."
"Oh, I love this one!" Hare's mother grinned. "Hare's first bath!"
"Ooh!" Dee reached out, taking the photo from June. "This would be great for the front page! Don't you think so, Dum?"
Dum snorted as the brothers looked at the photo, trying to hide their laughter behind their hands.
"I have an excellent idea!" Hare squealed out at the top of his lungs, nose twitching as he ran around the table and grabbed the photos out of everyone's hand. "Let's change the subject!" Dee held his photo out above his head, making Hare jump for it. He had to climb on the table in order to reach it.
"Your Majesty," Hatter offered as a distraction. "Why don't you tell us all about the, uh… plans for your next fashion show! I'm sure June probably caught your last one on television."
"Oh, yes! Well, ha ha… I didn't plan on doing another fashion line after that last one," the Queen admitted, swirling her wine around in her glass as she spoke. She had been growing tired of all the Hare talk and was desperate to get the attention back to herself. "But once the fashion bug bites you, it's hard not to create."
"I've always disliked bugs," June admitted. "Especially mosquitoes."
"It isn't really a bug, Mrs Hare," Alice explained. "That's just a saying."
"Oh… right," June replied, blushing a little at her ignorance, helping herself to some more tea. "So, your Majesty, has my son been a dutiful subject? Has he been helpful in making the kingdom a more pleasant place?"
"Helpful?" The Queen questioned, giggling a little as she gazed across the table at June. "Oh, he's been a help alright. A helpful pain in my-"
June grinned and looked at her son, reaching out and giving his arm a squeeze before turning back to the Queen. "You know, when I heard that you had saved him from that quicksand, I couldn't stand idly by and let him not fulfill our family duty. I insisted that he stand by your side until he could do a good deed for you as repayment. And it was lucky, because you nearly were swallowed up by quicksand as well. So, in a way, I saved your life that day too."
The Queen stared back at June with a look of total confusion. Maybe the wine was going to her head, but she really didn't know what to say in response to such an outrageous statement.
"And I was thinking," June said, adding a cube of sugar to her tea and stirring it. "For everything that Hare did for you that day, I feel that he should have gotten more recognition. Maybe a plaque or an award or something. Or a proclamation at the very least."
The Queen's eyes looked like they were going to bust from their sockets. The Hare chuckled nervously. "No, your Majesty… Mom, there isn't any need for any of that. It's enough to do a good deed, that's all. I don't need any recognition for it."
"And our Queen thanked you," Rabbit butted in, putting a hand on the Queen's arm to distract her, refilling her glass of wine to the top. "I believe we all sang a song about it, if I remember correctly…"
"All the same, Hare, you did a very noble thing that day and I'm very proud of you."
"Thanks, Mom…" Hare blushed a little, waving her away. "But it was really nothing. Really."
--
The tea party continued and the food was gobbled up. After a while, the attendants slowly made their way home. Alice left because she had to get back before her parents noticed she was missing, Caterpillar had to leave because it would take him so long to journey all the way home and Rabbit practically had to carry the Queen away because of all the wine she'd ingested. Dee and Dum were kind enough to offer to help them back to the palace. Nobody knew when the Cat left the party, but he was long gone as well and the sound of snoring could be heard from deep within the purple teapot on the table.
"Well, that was nice," June said from her seat, a smile on her face. The sun had gone down and the courtyard was lit up with little round string lights and lanterns that filled the area with atmosphere. The energy of the night had slowed down and you could hear the sound of the evening off in the distance.
"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" Hatter said, very proud that the party had gone over so well. Everyone had had a good time and nobody had done anything that had caused Hare to pass out from embarrassment.
Hare returned from the Hat house, holding a pot of coffee and two mugs. He had managed to sneak away and brew a pot without the Hatter noticing. "Here you go, Mom," he said absently, pouring the brown liquid into a mug with pink flowers on it. He added cream and sugar to it, just the way she liked it, leaving it a caramel color before passing it to her.
"Thank you, son," she smiled, blowing on it before taking a sip. The travel and excitement of the day was starting to show on her and she was looking a little tired.
Hare turned and offered some of the coffee to Hatter, who declined with the wave of a hand, not to much surprise. He was still working on his last kettle of warm tea and wasn't much of a fan of coffee anyway. Hare took a seat between the two of them, pouring himself half a mug of coffee, feeling Hatter's eyes on him the entire time. He was looking a little more calm now, though that might have been because he was getting sleepy from all the stress of the day.
"So, June, we didn't get much of a chance to talk at the train station. Or the tea party for that matter…" Hatter said with a chuckle and soft smile. "How was your trip?"
"It was relaxing," she nodded, ears bouncing a little. "I don't get to travel much, so a lot of it was new to me. Very exciting."
"And what did you think of the party?" Hater asked, looking at her over the rim of his cup as he drank. Hare could see that Hatter was really putting on the charm and it made him smile a little. He wanted to reach a hand out and touch him but decided against it, with his mother right beside them.
"It was lovely. Thank you for going through all the trouble, it was really marvelous. The food, the tea and the company," June kept her posture straight and upright, like she had spent hours of her life on a church bench. She was rather prim and proper, but Hatter couldn't help noticing a little bit of a goofy streak that he saw in Hare often. Or maybe it was because they just reminded him so much of each other. "I can't remember the last time I had this much fun."
"Well, that's nice," he replied, filling his cup up with the last of the tea from the pot. "And it really wasn't any bother. It was a pleasure being able to throw this party in your honor."
Hare slid a little jar in the Hatter's direction as he took a sip from his coffee. "Honey?" he offered.
"What is it, Darling?" Hatter asked, who was clearly looking down into his tea cup and not paying attention to the Hare's actions.
There was a clatter and a groan and Hare was brushing coffee off his shirt, June tisking. "I meant for your tea, Hatter…" he grumbled through clenched teeth.
"Baking soda will get that out, dear," June said, hiding her smile behind her coffee cup.
"I know, Mom…" he muttered. "I'll be right back."
He left the two of them alone, the soft snoring of the Dormouse filling the vacant space.
"So, Hatter, tell me about yourself…" June said with an interested smile.
His nerves crept up a little, but he managed not to show it at all. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time, knowing he'd eventually meet Hare's mother and be left alone with her, and it really wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. Maybe it was the comfortable atmosphere or the wine he'd had earlier in the evening, but he felt quite relaxed.
"Well, I'm a hatter, a tailor, an inventor," Hatter started. "I also part time as a professor, painter, chef, candy maker, amateur dancer, party planner, diagnostician, cave explorer, ghost hunter, private eye, and I work for the department of missing royalty... among other things. I'm multi-talented and like to keep myself busy." He paused and took a sip from his cup before adding, "I think next week I'm going to try being a cowboy."
"My my, you do seem to like to keep busy," June said, not being able to hide her amusement. "Does Hare do all of these things with you or do you work separately?"
"Oh, no, Hare is always helping me with what I do. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have him around to assist me," Hatter said with a chuckle. "We're always working together on projects and jobs and things. I don't think there's a single job that I've done since I met the Hare that he hasn't played some role in. We just can't keep our hands off each other."
There was a clatter as the OUT door bumped against the Hare, who stood at the doorway with a shocked expression on his face. He was wearing a white button down shirt now, his yellow one in his hand, covered in baking soda. The three looked at one another for a moment, Hare with a look of panic on his face and June and Hatter one of slight confusion. Apparently Hare had only caught Hatter's last sentence.
"Is something wrong, son?" June asked. "Did the stain come out alright?"
"Uh…" the Hare looked at them and blinked. "What were you talking about?"
"Work," Hatter said with a shrug. "I think we're going to be cowboys next week, by the way. Think you can pencil that in?"
Hare furrowed his brow and took his pocket calendar out, glancing over their plans. "Should I move working on the time machine till the next week?"
"Oh, no!" Hatter said, aghast. "I'll want to work on the time machine so I can go back to today and live it over again. Better pencil it in for the week after then."
Hare nodded and June took another sip from her coffee cup.
"So, Hatter, what is your family like?" June asked as Hare returned to his seat, tucking his calendar away in his jacket. "Do you speak to your mother often?"
"I do," Hatter replied quickly. "I speak to my mother every second and fourth Wednesday of the month. I don't see my extended family often, but I write to them. And my no-good cousin drops by from time to time."
June looked at Hatter in surprise, her mouth gaping a little, before turning to Hare. "I thought you said that you liked his cousin and that she was very nice to you!"
Hare thought for a moment, blinking, before shaking his head. "No no, Ma. That's his other cousin, Hedda. She's the one who beat all of us at the triathlon. He's talking about his second cousin thrice removed, the Glad Hatter."
"Or as we call him, the Copy Catter Hatter," Hatter said with a little bit of a glare and a sneer, just the remembrance of his cousin and his evil deeds ruffing his feathers.
"Oh, I see," June relaxed a little, though a little nervous hearing about the dubious side of the Hatter family. "And your parents support you and the work that you do?"
Hatter raised his eyebrows and nodded, sipping from his tea lazily. "Yes, they do. They have always supported me in my many fascinations while I was growing up and gave me room to grow and find my way. I really couldn't have asked for anyone better. I think it's important to give them their freedom to find their own way in life and really express themselves in their own way, don't you?"
She smiled and nodded, leaning back into her chair a little. "Yes, that is important. That reminds me of a time when Hare wanted me to paint all the walls in his bedroom the most awful shade of orange I had ever seen. But he insisted and I wasn't about to tell him otherwise." They could see her remembering the story, little lines squinting under her eyes as she laughed to herself about it. "Or when I'd have to sleep with earplugs in because Hare would practice his tuba late into the evening. Sometimes you just have to let them find their own way."
Hatter looked at Hare and saw that he was getting uncomfortable with the line of questioning. Hatter didn't see why, but he supposed it was because he was afraid she'd say something embarrassing about him.
"Well, that kind of parenting really brought up a great guy," Hatter said with a smile. "I'm really quite fond of him." Hare felt a foot touch him under the table from Hatter's direction, making him hop out of his seat from the surprise. In an attempt to cover his blushing face, he started to clear the table. This was unusual behavior, it wasn't uncommon for them to leave the dishes out until the next rainstorm would wash them, but it didn't take Hatter long to get the hint.
"Oh!" he overreacted, waving his hands around and jumping to his feet to help pack the dishes and food up. The Hatter raised his arm to shove the table clean of its settings on impulse, only to stop suddenly and make eye contact with Hare, who looked at him with a "you'd better not" look, face still a little pink. Hatter sighed enthusiastically and calmly started to clear the table, stacking the dirty dishes neatly and placing them in bins to be cleaned. "This would be much quicker if I did this on my own…" he grumped to himself.
Seeing that things were being wrapped up, June got to her feet and started straightening up as well.
"Oh, June, thank you but you really don't have to…" Hatter remarked while Hare also made a move to stop her. "Just take a seat, we have this under control."
"Oh, nonsense. I don't mind helping," June said with a wave of her hand as she started gathering plates and silverware. "You know what they say: Many hands make light work." She loaded up her arms like she had been a waitress in a past life and followed Hare into the Hat house to the kitchen.
The Hatter stood by the table, watching the pair walk away, before glancing over at the Tea Fountain on the other side of the fence. "But… we usually… do the dishes there…" Furrowing his brow a little, he picked up the bin and strode into the house and to the overly crowded kitchen. The small sink was already overloaded and dishes were piling up on the counter and on the kitchen table.
"Hare, why don't we leave-" he started, only to get The Look from Hare. He was standing at the sink, his jacket already off and hung up carefully on a hook, gloves and apron on with his mother beside him turning on the faucet. "Okay…" he stopped. Putting the bin down on the table, he retreated outside to gather up more dishes.
--
An hour or so later, all the dishes were clean and dry, sitting out on the countertops and table in neat stacks. June looked very pleased with how nicely everything looked and Hare had a similar proudness about him. Hatter looked like he wanted to push both the bunnies out of his house and lock the doors for making him clean everything tonight.
"Much better," June said, removing her rubber gloves from her hands and setting them over the sink to dry.
"Yes, thank you both so much for your help," Hatter grumbled. He had taken off his jacket and had an apron wrapped around his middle, soap suds splattering him from his stomach down.
"I can't help but notice that some of these are chipped…" June frowned, picking up one and examining it meticulously. It was obviously one from Hatter's collection that got thrown in among the gifted ones Hare had supplied.
Hare grimaced and gave Hatter a worried look, waiting for the inevitable.
"Oh, yes…" Hatter nodded, sitting up and reaching out for the chipped piece of china. "You know, you have parties all the time and accidents happen. Nothing to worry about. This one should be retired to storage."
June's eyes narrowed a little as she gave him the cup. It had seemed that she had accepted his explanation.
"Would you like a tour of the house, Mom?" Hare offered, removing his own apron and putting his blazer back on. "I don't know if you'll have time tomorrow, with the talent show and everything."
"Talent show?" June's eyes brightened, ears perking a little.
"Oh, did I not tell you about that?" Hare asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Hatter put together a talent show for you tomorrow night."
"Everyone in Wonderland will be performing for you, June. It's sure to excite and delight," Hatter explained, coming up behind Hare. "Even Hare put together an act for you."
"You did!?" she squealed, reaching out and grabbing her son by the arm, giving him a squeeze. "Oh, I'm so excited!" Hare looked at Hatter with a pained smile on his face, wordless asking him to help.
"Uh, it'll be tomorrow night, so you both can spend the day together and then you'll come here after," Hatter said, stealing in and taking June by the arm to lead her further into the house. "But, for now, let me show you around."
They toured the house from top to bottom and Hare's mother seemed rather impressed. Hare was relieved to see that she didn't make any mention of anything being out of place and was rather enchanted with how eclectic the Hatter's style was. Everywhere was something new or interesting for her to see and she loved it. She also ogled over all the photos that were scattered around the house of the two of them. She found one at the foot of the stairs and put her hand on it, squinting to get a better look.
"I like that one," Hatter said with a smile, taking it down off the wall and handing it to June so she could get a better look. It was of the two of them and one of their inventions, posing with it as if they had invented air conditioning and not a consonant/vowel separator.
"You know…" June said in a hushed voice, so Hare couldn't overhear as he fussed about behind them. "He looks just like his father in this."
Hatter blinked and looked at the photo and then back at June. They still looked like mirror images of one another.
"You don't say…" Hatter grinned.
June pursed her lips and nodded slowly, handing it back to Hatter.
"Would you like a copy?" Hatter offered, only to be cut off by Hare.
"What are you looking at?" he asked suddenly, making them both jump a little, brow furrowing as he looked over his mother's shoulder.
"The Consonant/Vowel separator," Hatter replied. "She was asking how it worked."
"Oh, well not very well," Hare shook his head. "We didn't win a prize at the fair or anything for it."
"But we did get some scrummy funnel cake," Hatter added, making Hare nod in agreement.
"And fried twinkies."
They made their way up the stairs and to the attic, where June stood and just gazed at the array of items that it contained.
"Oh my…" she muttered to herself, gazing at boxes of holiday decorations, hats of various sizes and styles, chipped teapots and broken umbrellas, stopping at the Hatter's worktable to take a gander. There was also a mannequin in the corner that made her feel uncomfortable.
"This is where most of my work happens," Hatter said proudly, patting the battered wooden surface with a gloved hand. "The old workbench."
"It's a wonder you can work up here with all the clutter…" June managed, eyes wide behind her glasses as she browsed. She had her hands balled under her chin, a finger under her lip, and Hatter smiled as he recognized it as something Hare did often. She looked like she was afraid to touch anything for fear that it would bite her.
Hare started to panic a little. The area was clean of dust, sure, but possibly not as organized as it could have been. Hatter had noticed a tear in one of his best gloves earlier that morning and stole away up here to fix it without telling him about it, leaving a small mess at the table by accident.
"Hatter uses a lot of these things in his inventions, Mom," Hare tried to explain, reaching for a helmet with a lamp attached to its top. "He pieces things together to make them new again. He really is a genius."
Hatter blushed and shrugged his shoulders a little. "I think genius might be a strong word…"
"Do all your inventions involve headgear?" June asked, reaching out and adjusting the lamp that was attached to the helmet Hare was holding.
"No, not all of them," Hatter shook his head. "Just the reliable ones."
"Are the others… here?" June asked, looking about the clutter.
"We have a pretzel machine around here somewhere, but it doesn't turn off once it's on," Hare said. "And there's a house key homing device that's supposed to help you not lose your keys, but we can't find it."
"What happened to the invention in the photo downstairs?" June asked curiously. "The Consonant/Vowel separator?"
"We sold it," Hatter shrugged.
"To whom?"
"A man for spare parts," Hare said, shrugging his shoulders a little as he put the lamp helmet back in its home. "We needed the bus money home from the fair."
"We got too many funnel cakes," Hatter explained, patting his stomach. "And fried twinkies."
June's features softened and she smiled, reaching a hand out and patting her son on the shoulder. "All these inventions look amazing, son. You both worked so hard on them, I can tell. And, while they might not look like much, or work all the time, at least you're making the world better with them."
Hatter swore that he might have seen a tear come to the Hare's eye as his chest puffed up with pride at his mother's accolades. And he couldn't wipe the grin off his own face if he tried.
"Thanks, Mom," was all the Hare managed, a shy smile on his face.
"Let's get out of here," Hatter said a little after the moment had passed. "It's a little stuffy in this attic. How about one more mug of tea for the road?"
The trio made their way down the staircase, congregating in the living room at the sofa. Hatter made one last pot of tea and split it up between the three of them. They were all three tired and the tea was putting them in a relaxed mood. It didn't take long for the Hares to decide it was time to head home.
"I think I'll powder my nose before we head home," June whispered to her son.
"Sure, Mom," Hare said, getting to his feet. "First door on your right down the hall. It has a yellow teacup on it."
June nodded and followed his directions, leaving the Hatter and Hare alone for a moment. They stood by the front door, Hare adjusting his jacket, looking like he didn't want to leave.
"Will you need help setting up the stage?" Hare worried, biting his thumb a little, only for Hatter to take his hands in his and give them a squeeze.
"Don't worry about it," Hatter tried to ease his mind. "The Tweedles are coming early to help set up the stage and Alice will spend all day here helping me. Just enjoy your time with your Mother."
"I don't know if I can do that…" Hare wheezed. "I'm still too afraid that she's going to find something wrong."
Hatter tisked and shook his head. "Bunny, you worry too much," he muttered, before stealing a kiss.
Hare blushed and wanted to say more, but his Mother appeared over the Hatter's shoulder. He gave his hand one more squeeze, before letting go. "You ready to go home, Mom?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Is it chilly out?"
It was never chilly in Wonderland, but Hare looked at Hatter and sighed, taking his jacket off and draping it over his mother's shoulders. It engulfed her, but she pulled it closed around her front and smiled.
"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, June," Hatter said with a grin. "Have a safe trip home."
June lead the way out the front and Hatter tugged Hare back for a second, giving him one last kiss and pat on the bum before pushing him out the door.
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hockeybabestars · 5 years ago
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Can you write about Auston Matthews and prrompt 08 that you reposted
my dreams of working for an nhl team got projected on to this oops
08. i slip on some ice and you’re the stranger who catches me
It was my first day running social media for the leafs and I definitely had jitters. I had showed up a few hours early just so I could tour the arena that would soon become home to me, and get a feel of where everything is.
I hadn’t met the players yet, but since this morning was optional skate, my boss felt it was best for me to go get some content and meet some people while the boys weren’t so dialed in or serious. 
I stayed around the perimeter of the rink, getting videos for social media and some pictures that I could edit for Instagram later. But when practice finished I decided to put my best foot forward, literally, and introduce myself to my so called “coworkers”.
My proactive approach probably wasn’t the best though. I put my phone in my back pocket and steady myself on the railing of the rink as I stepped onto the ice in sneakers. It was slick, duh, and I wasn’t expecting how slick when I slid forward a little, and just as I thought I had my footing and took another step, I could feel gravity start to weigh on me. I was waiting to bust my ass as my first impression on these guys and I clenched my eyes shut as I waited for impact. But the cold hard surface never came and instead I was wrapped up in some warm strong arms.
I felt myself being lifted upright and when I opened my eyes I saw a stupid grin plastered across Auston Matthews face. I reached a hand out for him to shake, “ I’m (Y/F/N), I’m the teams new social media manager.”
He shook it shaking his head and laughing as well, “well what a first impression (Y/N), you really know how to make an entrance.”
“They didn’t hire me for my skating ability’s okay?” I chuckled with him, “I’m a certified klutz too so that didn’t help. But uh thanks for saving my ass, literally.”
“No problem, let me know if you ever need anything, I’ll save your ass any day.”
At that I rolled my eyes at the smirk he was sure to be wearing and turned to go introduce myself to Mitch and Morgan, “Sure thing.” But as I tried to take another step I wobbled a little. He skated and caught up to me in a second, “Sure you don’t need my help getting around?” He was smirking at me, and as much as I hate to say it I lowkey did need his help, but I was too brave to say anything right now.
“I’m good- I just need to whoa-“ I almost slipped again but yet again he caught me, and his muscles tensed under my grip. This time he just guided me back to ground with no ice.  “Why don’t we just have the guys come introduce themselves to you?” 
I didn’t say thank you but I’m sure he could tell by the grateful smile that adorned my features. “Yeah that would probably be better.” I laughed.
Auston stayed with me, introducing me to the guys, and I could tell there was going to be no shortage of personality here. They all made me feel so welcomed and I couldn’t wait to get started with them. 
“That wasn’t too bad was it?” He chuckled as I gathered my bag up. He walked me back to the door of the locker room, so I knew where to find it for pre and post game content and I nodded in agreeance with him, “not bad at all when you have your own personal tour guide.” I nudged him slightly and if I wasn’t mistaken I could see the faintest tinge of pink on his cheeks as he looked away from me. “You didn’t have to do that, so thank you.”
“No problem at all, glad I could help.” He grinned, but he lingered for a second.
“Well I’m gonna go, I’ll see you tonight at the game then yeah?” I dug into my bag and pulled out my keys already turning to leave when he said, “I’ll be the one wearing blue!”
I laughed at that, “you’re all gonna be wearing blue! Try again!”
His cheeky smile trickled into my brain and I burned the image there, for safekeeping, “number 34. I’ll make sure to smile for the camera.” 
“Wouldn’t expect anything less Matthews.”
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huntertales · 5 years ago
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Part Three: No Guts, No Glory. (Goodbye Stranger S08E17)
Episode Summary: After a few months of silence, Castiel reappears in the reader and Winchesters’ lives telling them Crowley has unleashed several demons into a small town to search for Lucifer’s Crypt, which hold a valuable asset. While interrogating a demon, the four of them have been torturing Meg, who knows the exact location of the Crypt the king of hell is after. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 6,685.
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You didn't know how many steps ahead you were of Crowley or how much time you had left until he figured out what you had done. His precious hostage and punching bag vanished into thin air. Along with his henchmen that were tirelessly looking for something that didn't belong to their king were dropping like flies. There was one demon left you accidentally let get away. You guessed he went running to his boss to tell him what you did. You were hoping he was hiding in fear of the consequences he'd face once Crowley caught wind of how one little demon let his plan fall apart. Which meant more would be coming your way. As if the king of hell didn't want to see your head on a stick, you were pretty sure this was the final nail in your coffin.
The five of you arrived at the abandoned area where just below your feet laid the crypt in which held the angel tablet. While there was an odd number in your group, Dean was the one who called the shots and told you how all of you were going to split up. You tried your hardest not to disagree with the plans that Dean came up with, knowing he was trying to do what was best. But his idea of how to handle this situation got under your skin a little bit.
“All right, Cas and I will head and get our Indiana Jones on. Sam and Y/N, you stay outside with Meg." Dean instructed all of you how it was going to go. You didn't know why, but you found your position in his plan a little absurd. And you didn't hesitate to show your confusion as to why you were being benched on finding the most important thing next to the demon tablet. "We got this, Y/N. I'd feel a lot better if you stayed on the sidelines for this one." 
"Are you kidding me? I'm more than capable of tagging along with you." You told him. "Besides, I'm not letting you go in there alone."
“He won’t be alone.” Cas corrected you about his added presence with the Winchester.
“That’s not what I meant.” You rolled your eyes in frustration from how the angel could be literal about these kind of things. "Sam and Meg can hang here, watch our backs."
“Oh, what? Now you trust Sam to babysit Meg?” Dean asked you. He knew well enough in the process of trying to get you to change your mind he dragged his little brother down from his actions that he took that lead Meg into Crowley’s grasp. “Like the last time ended so well.” 
“Hey, I can learn to forgive and forget.” Meg jumped up into the conversation to at least defend herself when she heard her name being dragged out to make her look bad. “And besides, I got you this far.” 
“Shut up, Meg.” You and Dean spoke in usion, ordering for the demon to keep herself out this conversation. You weren't backing down from trying to put yourself in danger Dean didn't want you near. You could waste all your breath in your lungs, but there was not a single chance in hell he was letting you anywhere near the crypt. Or letting you walk around anymore with the facade that everything was perfectly fine. When it clearly wasn’t. "Y/N, Sam and I saw your bloody tissue in the trash can, okay?"
You felt your expression falter for a second from what you heard, the truth that you thought wouldn't come to the light was suddenly thrown into the spotlight. You looked over at the younger Winchester to see that he was silent through this conversation, but his concern for you was clear as day on his face. You let out a slight chuckle, trying to back pedal away from this far as you could. "Guys, I'm fine—"
“Stop. Just stop.” Dean cut you off before you could come up with some half excuse that you felt perfectly okay. When it was clear you weren’t. You crossed your arms over your chest when you heard him share his concern for you that was perfectly justified. “Y/N, we don’t know what’s in there, okay? And you almost let a demon get the best of you back there.”
“I’m fine.” You stressed the word, not sure what else you could say to get your lie across.
"No, you're not fine. You haven't been fine since the first trial. That's why I called Cas." Dean said, nodding his head to the angel standing next to you. "I thought maybe he could talk some sense into you." 
“Trial?” Meg asked, curious as to what the talk was all about. 
"Shut up, Meg." You silenced the demon once again after she tried poking her nose into a conversation she didn't belong in. You tried your hardest to keep your calm from how this was all going, his attempts at trying to back you into a corner only added fuel to your anger. "Dean, I'm telling you for the last time—I'm okay. We're all okay." 
“You’re the one who’s completing the trials?” The angel knew about you and the boys' decision about closing the gates of hell after learning about it from Kevin. All though he didn't know much as to what was required or the effects it would have, he knew it wasn’t going to be without a bit of sacrifice. Cas was able to pick up on the human eye couldn't. And what he could sense made him feel uneasy. He looked over to the Winchesters and gave them a disapproving look. "How could you let her do this? Especially in her condition?"
"We all know Y/N's not the listening type. Sam and I warned her," Dean said, giving you a shake of his head in frustration from how all of this ended up. "But she stole it out from under me."
“Right. Wasn't that after walked out on me when I told you about how you were going to be a father? Let’s not forget that little detail. I was pissed off.” You said. Meg was didn't what she was told in being quiet, but hearing all these juicy details made her curious as to what unfolded during her absence. “I saved your ass from being a hell hound’s chew toy.”
"And you could have been ripped—" Dean brought up an argument you heard a thousand times before from his younger brother. It was the reason why he didn't want you anywhere near the first trial. You could have been ripped apart by the hell hound, you could have ended up dead. But you were still here. Ready and willing to do whatever needed to be done. 
"I know what I'm doing. I'm doing this for our child. You wanted to do it because you only know how to run away from your problems and not face them head on." You knew what came out of your mouth was a low blow that didn't need to be said. Dean was only addressing his concern for keeping you safe from more danger. "So I coughed up a little blood. What's the big deal? I'm fine." 
“Y/N...” Cas didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but he felt it was necessary to give you the reality you were trying so hard to ignore. “You’re damaged in ways even I can’t heal.”  
"What?" You asked the angel. You suddenly felt yourself growing nervous at what this meant for the being you were carrying at this exact moment. Everything that you digested, everything you put into your body went straight to the baby. You were hesitant to hear the answer from the question you were about to ask next. "What...What does this mean for the baby?"
"So far I can tell there's been no sort of damage done to the fetus. It's been growing at a healthy rate. Which surprises me, considering what kind of stress your body has been going through." Cas said. You felt somewhat relieved at what you were hearing, in your head it was another sign that things were going to be okay in the end. Things like this weren't going to be easy, you were expecting the road to be bumpy. "I agree with Dean. You should stay out of the way and protect Meg with Sam." 
“Since when do I need protecting?” Meg asked. 
“Since you were held captive and tortured for over a year.” Cas responded back with the truth. 
Meg knew there was no sense in arguing with that point. Dean pulled out the demon knife from the inside of his jacket pocket and handed it over to his brother for safekeeping. You looked away to the distance when Dean tried to apologize for how things had to be, you didn't want to hear any of it. He let out a quiet sigh and followed behind the angel, heading into the building in search for the tablet. You were left with Sam and the demon you were supposed to be keeping an eye on, doing the important job of tagging the walls to keep out Crowley and his goons. 
You covered your nose and mouth with your jacket when you sprayed yet another symbol over the wall to keep out any demons. Sam was off on the other side of the building, not too far, doing the same thing as well. Meg was even pitching in by doing her own graffiti to keep out her fellow siblings. You hoped that the both of you could work in complete and total silence, but it seemed Meg was still holding a grudge about the lack of help she was given the year before. 
“Wait—so I took how many bullets for those boys, and Sam didn’t even try to look for me? Like, once?” Meg asked you questions you couldn’t answer. You merely shrugged your shoulders and went on working. She scoffed at the man’s lack of empathy. “My hero.” 
"If it makes you feel any better, he ignored the entire world for a year." You said. "And if I was still around, I sure as hell wouldn't look for you." 
Meg should have seen that one coming, considering you and her never shared a strong bond together. She decided to change the subject, to something she was curious to learn more about.  "What's with all the 'trial' and 'being damaged' crap?" 
"Look, no disrespect, but I really don't care for you.” You told her how you felt about her. “You haven't exactly been the most trustworthy person in our lives, Meg. I’m not going to suddenly tell you all my deepest and darkest secrets.”
“Seriously? How am I not Team Y/N? I honestly missed you while you were gone. It wasn’t the same without you, Mutt.” Meg said. You turned your head to look over at the demon when you heard the nickname she knew you hated being mentioned once again. Even with half your face covered, she could see your wrath peeking through. A subtle hint you weren't going to give her the answers she wanted to hear. "Fine. Whatever it is, you okay dying over it?”
You scoffed at her presumption, “I’m not gonna die.” 
"This is a safe space, Y/N. You can tell me the truth. It might have been Sam who I spent time walking in that corpse of his, but he gave me an insight to your little sad thoughts and feelings. And I was the one who helped mold you into the person you are today." Meg's attempt at trying to get you to soften up only made your face scrunch up. You told her she was acting creepy, she smiled. "Here's what I remember. Deep down, in the parts you try to never let see the light of day, you want nothing more than to live a happy life with your little beau. Away from creepy old things like me."
"You're right. I do." You agreed with the woman's presumption that was somewhat spot on. You let out a quiet sigh, dropping the paint can to your side and uncovered your mouth to let you breathe in the fresh night air. "During the time that the boys thought I was dead...I wasn't. I was spending it as someone else." 
"I don't understand." Meg said. "You just ditched and ran for the hills?"
“It’s not that easy. A lot built up for me that I needed some time away.” You said. You hoped that it was enough for her to leave the topic alone. You shook the spray can in an attempt to get back to work. When you glanced back over at the demon, she seemed even more intrigued to find out more. You let out a sigh of defeat. “The reason why Sam didn’t look for you that year was because he fell in love with someone. And I lived as someone else for two years.”
“Wait. The both of you spent time away from hunting to be with a couple of normies? Lame. I thought you ditched those boys for some vacation time somewhere nice.” Meg said. “You has one chance to anywhere in the world and live it up, but you choose the simple life? 
"Whatever. I didn't expect you to understand. You've always been trying to be Daddy's favorite demon." You muttered under your breath. You felt a little bit embarrassed that you were telling a thing like Meg of all people your personal feelings. "Let's just work quietly and pretend I didn't say anything." 
"Come on. I was kidding. I know your life hasn't been easy. And I haven't exactly made it any better. But you don't even trust me with just a little bit more detail? Our dad's not around anywhere to tell us what to do. We're free to speak among ourselves. We can finally do what we want. Cut me, do I not bleed, Y/N? I'm not the same demon you met all those years back." Meg tried for you to lower your guard down to make you more comfortable. You walked over to another part of the building and was ready to paint another symbol, when you heard her speak of Lucifer in a new way, you dropped your back down to your side and looked at the demon. "So, what lead Y/N Y/L/N to quit hunting for a little while and ended up with you getting knocked up with a bun in the oven? Spare no details." 
If someone were to tell you when you first met Meg Masters almost eight years ago you'd be telling her how you got to this point in your life; you'd probably throw yourself into oncoming traffic to stop it from happening. You almost never told anyone about personal details like this. But here you were, spilling your guts a made with Crowley that was used to his own advantage. There was the part about sleeping with a soulless Sam for an entire year while you and Dean were broken up you quickly glossed over. You told her about how Crowley and Cas somehow looped in Josh to all of this crazy mess that ended with them getting exactly what they wanted; you were human and your demon side was finally free. Only it all ended with you killing the bitch after she spent a few days torturing you. 
It wasn't being put through hell and having unimaginable things being done to you that wanted you to take a break. Or dealing with a soulless Sam and the endless trouble it caused trying to get him back to normal. Seeing Dean trying to live a normal life with a woman that wasn't you, with a family he didn't belong in. They were your problems. And they were solved. You saved the day once again, but the people you knew closest to you lied right to your face that lead you to begging for Cas to let you live as someone else. Just for a little while. Because you needed a break from it all. You didn’t want to be someone who was born a monster. You didn’t want to be a part of someone’s master plan. You just wanted to be...normal. Plain. 
Meg knew about the year that Dean was still on earth and Sam was hunting, it was after she didn't know about. You told her about how accidentally hitting a dog made Sam meet the woman he fell in love with and lived a normal life for that entire year. You reminisced about the life you had when you were Y/F/N. She was a college professor who was happily married to a man named James, a recently promoted detective. She had two parents who loved her. She had friends that she had dinner parties with and went out with for brunch. She graded papers and taught lessons. You did all those things for two years, a comfortable routine that you desperately needed to experience. 
All though the little vacation was exactly what you needed, you remembered a week before the boys found you the routine starting to grow...tedious. A part of you was starting to feel restless. Like there was always a fraction of the real you in Y/F/N’s head telling you that all of this was a temporary thing. You were waiting for something to take you back to bigger and better things. That's when the boys came along and whisked you back to your reality. 
"Sam wants to live a happy and normal life, far away from this. And I'm happy for him that he found what he wants. But I don't want to settle for just one thing. I grew up living a normal life. And it's boring. I want 
 lives." You admitted to her. "I want to be able to go hunting for a monster and come to know to a family. I want to take my kid to the park. Go see them in school plays and sporting events. I just...I want to know that in all of this crap and darkness there can be some good. At the end of it all, I just want to give the boys a family. Some hope that they can have happiness."
"Wait. Hold on. There's one part I don't understand." Meg said. You raised your brow slightly, wondering exactly where you lost her during the past few minutes you spent recapping all that happened. "You snagged both of the Winchester brothers? I always thought you were a goody two shoes and too scared to get yourself laid. Maybe there is a little minx underneath it all." 
"I'm sorry, I just told you everything that we went through and that's your takeaway?" You asked her, not sure why you were in such disbelief at her first reaction. "About the fact that I...you know what. I'm not even gonna say it. What else did I expect?"
"Oh, I heard the rest. How you pretended to be Y/F/N, the boys found you and happy reunion. Sam fell in love with a unicorn and you got knocked up with Dean's second kid." Meg said. You rolled your eyes in annoyance from how her personality could take something so meaningful and turn it into a joke. "It was beautiful, then sad, then sadder. Even a little bit erotic. I laughed, I cried, I puked in my mouth a little. And honestly, I kind of get it." 
"Wait," You were taken back at her honesty. "Really?"
"You want this kid to have a good life. You want to let them do what they want. No putting them in a box and telling them what to do." Meg said. "Even though my heart may be black as my eyes, in some kind of pathetic way...I respect you. And maybe I'm even a little bit jealous." 
"I..." You fell silent for a moment, not sure what to say from the confession you just heard. Were you having a heart to heart with the same demon who tried to kill you countless times? Who called you mutt and pushed you into becoming exactly like her. You felt like you were thrown into the twilight zone. "Why? I always thought you hated me." 
"I did. Like a sibling who got all the attention. You were always Lucifer's favorite. He doted on you, everything we did was for you. But you never laid down and did what he wanted. You've always been a go-getter. People tried to corner you and you always found a way out. I respect that. You’re a fighter. Don’t forget that.” Meg seemed to be speaking from the heart she lost a long time ago. Demons might not be able to feel anything but pain and joy for all the wrong reasons, but she was speaking with complete honesty to you. "Just remember something when you're doing these trials. You can take the girl out of the demon, but you can't take the demon out of the girl."
You furrowed your brow slightly from her ominous sounding warning. “What do you mean?”
"Mommy wants something. Mommy goes about trying to get it, not knowing what she's dragging her kid into. Mommy dies and the child's screwed over. Sound familiar, Y/N?" Meg asked you. Your expression slowly dampered, knowing exactly what she was getting at. "On your journey through whatever the hell it is you're trying to do...try not to become what you hate the most." 
You felt your teeth sink into the inside flesh of your cheek from the unexpected warning coming from Meg. Of all the people in the entire world, it felt like she was trying to guide you to a path where it didn't end up with you...turning out like your mother. You didn't want to think about if she was just subtly trying to get under your skin, knowing exactly what the trials were about from overheard conversations in her captivity. But she had done a lot for you and the boys over the past few years. Maybe there was a slightest change in Meg's cold, dark heart. You would never really know the answer, because trouble was about to come your way. 
You realized in that moment when you saw a demon come running after you with a rather intimidating looking pipe, you had no weapon to defend yourself with except for a can of spray paint. Ruby's knife was still with Sam, who was nowhere to be found. You could only guess he was bombarded with his own demons, but you still called out the man's name to let him know you needed his help. You managed to dodge the swing that almost hit your head and a few other swings the demon tried to get in. 
You weren't sure if it was adrenaline or you were starting to feel like yourself when you managed to over power the demon, grabbing a hold of the weapon and attacked her, shoving her straight into the wall and gave you the upperhand. You still had the can in your hand, and without hesitation, you sprayed it directly in her eyes to take her off guard. Funny enough, the cheap shot actually worked. It gave you enough time to grab a hold of her again and threw her in the direction of Meg to finish the job. She stabbed the demon with the angel blade you didn’t know where she had gotten from, but it did the job.
The encounter made you feel out of breath, but seeing the success of killing the two demons made you break out into a small smile at what you and Meg had accomplished on your own. All though the adrenaline was quick to wear off, suddenly you felt dizzy and weak in the knees. You were almost sure you were going to fall straight to the ground from how faint you felt, but before you did, you felt a pair of arms come to your rescue. Your mind went into panic mode from the unexpected touch, but the person helping you was none other than Sam, who came running back soon as he could. You inhaled a deep breath to try and compose yourself back to normal while the younger Winchester opened his mouth to ask if you were all right.
Before any words could be spoken or another action to take place, you felt yourself jump slightly in Sam's grasp at the unexpected booming sound coming from the building just next to you. It made the ground beneath your feet shake and you to look up into the night sky when the sound was like a clasp of thunder. You might not have known what the noise was all about, but Sam figured out what was going on below in the crypt. Dean and Cas got the angel tablet. But it seemed someone else wanted to get his hands on it next. 
“I believe they’re playing my song.” You felt your skin crawl off the bone from the familiar accent coming from behind you. You didn’t need too many guesses to know who was here to interrupt your plans for tonight. It seemed Crowley had finally caught up to all of you. You felt yourself stiffen at the mere sight of him. "Love what you've done with the place. You really think all that was gonna keep me out forever?"
“At least long enough for Dean and Cas to get the tablet and get out.” Sam told the demon. 
"Castiel. So, that's who's been poking my boys—and not in the sexy way." Crowley always had a sarcastic charm about him that you always found irritating. You hadn't seen the demon face to face properly since you were only six weeks and had no clue what was going on inside your own body. Now here the both of you were, time passed and he had one less little doggy to play with. "Got a bone to pick with you, Kitten. After what you did to my poor dog. And many more things you still need to make up for. You never did apologize for ruining my little art project." 
“You gonna talk us to death or get down to it?” Meg asked. 
“There’s my whore.” Crowley said to the woman who had been his captive for over a year. You gave him a dirty glare from his name calling that you never liked to hear. Meg didn’t seem to be the least affected by the word. She’d been called worse in her time. “I’m not here for my dearly departed, though. I’m here for the stone with the funny scribbles on it.” 
"That's not gonna happen." You said to the king of hell, bursting his little bubble. "Now, why don't you save us all the trouble and crawl back to whatever hole you crawled out from? Unless you want to come over here and let me show you what I did to your little pooch.” 
“Love it when you get all tough, Kitten. Touches me right where my bathing suit goes." Crowley said. Your face scrunched up in disgust at his remark. If he wanted you even more pissed off, then you were. The demon almost rarely got his hands dirty, but when it came down to it, he was willing when it came to things he wanted. He pulled out what appeared to be an angel blade from his jacket. It seemed everyone had one of them these days, except for you and the Winchesters. "Speaking of which, you never properly thanked me for telling you about your little bun in the oven. To be honest, I'm quite hurt. However...I can think of a few ways to satisfy myself. No pun intended.” 
You felt there was a slight advantage in this fight with Sam and Meg still able to fight off Crowley. Maybe there was a chance you could take him down once and for all. But it seemed killing the king of hell wasn't your fight to win. Meg turned her head to look at you and Sam. She nodded her head to the building she couldn't enter. 
“Go. Save your brother and go get your unicorn, Sam." Meg ordered at the two of you. Sam gave the demon a confused look as to what she was saying, but there was no time to explain what you told her. She looked over at you, having no clue the both of you were about to be exchanging insults for the last time. "Give 'em hell, Mutt." 
"Back at you." You said, your lips stretching into a smirk. "Bitch." 
You and Sam didn't waste any more time, using what precious seconds you had left to go running straight into the building. A part of you felt bad leaving Meg out there on her own to ward off the enemy. It wasn't the first time she had done this for you. You followed behind Sam as the both of you made your way around the place, trying to find Dean and Cas before Crowley somehow got in and started slashing through the competition. The both of you found a staircase that lead down to the basement area and directly down to the crypt. 
You didn't have much time to look around the place and see what Lucifer made of it. You were more worried about calling out Dean's name and waiting for him to respond to the sound of your panicking voice. You and Sam saw him standing in the bottom level of the building, alone. You looked around, wondering if the angel was around here somewhere, but it seemed it was just the older Winchester. You let out a frustrated breath. You had little time to worry about the whereabouts of a certain angel. 
“Where’s Cas?” You asked the older man. 
“He’s gone.” Dean said. “Meg?” 
"We gotta go." Sam warned his brother. "Now."  
All of you headed out of the crypt and back to ground level to make your escape before Crowley could find out what you were doing before he could get that payback he was talking about. You made it to the Impala and opened up the backseat door in record time. Before you got in, you turned your head to waste a few precious moments to see where Meg was. As if a part of you figured she was going to get the revenge she wanted on the king of hell that had a hit on her head since he took power. You tried to see how the fight was going, but you felt yourself being shoved inside by one of the boys at the lack of time you had.
You quickly looked over your shoulder and out the back window of the Impala to get a better view. Meg was bloody and probably going to have some more bruises from the fight that Crowley was giving her, but she was a bitch who could withstand a punishment. You felt your lips stretch into a smile when you saw Crowley become distracted at the sight of you and the boys making your getaway, no Cas in sight. Which meant he got tricked with the idea that the stone was long gone. Meg took her opportunity to stab the king of hell with the angel blade straight into the arm. For a moment it seemed like the fight was going to crown Meg as the winner. But you took bets a little too fast. 
Your smile was quickly wiped right off your face at what you unfold next; Crowley got the upperhand in the fight. You watched as the demon swiftly stabbed Meg straight in the chest, one little move and that was it. You saw Meg's lifeless body hit the concrete, right as Dean slammed his foot on the gas and sent the Impala flying forward. You felt your nails dig into the leather seats as you saw Crowley grow smaller in the distance. For some reason, despite Meg being a bitch who got under your skin. Called you names and was all around a nuisance to your life...you didn't want things to end like this for her. As if you didn't need a reason to take that bastard down once and for all, he just gave you another one. 
+ + +
You and Sam might have been dealing with the wrath of hell and their king just a short while ago, it seemed things between Dean and Cas were just as crazy. You listened to how Cas started to go all sorts of crazy when the both of them found the tablet. He beat the crap out of Dean, to the point where he wasn't sure if he was going to make it. But Cas healed him back up, and vanished from sight with the tablet. You rubbed your eyes in frustration from what you were hearing. It seemed with every passing year you were getting a new side of Cas. Crazy Cas. Control Freak Cas. And it seemed since he got back from purgatory with a little heavenly help you had been dealing with a Cas who had someone pulling his strings, leading him to the tablet. 
“So, what happened?” You asked, trying to wrap your head around what unfolded. “I mean, Cas touched the tablet, and it reset him to his factory settings or something?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t care. All I know is that he is off the reservation with a heavenly WMD.” Dean said. You let out a sigh from hearing all of this. While you might have been disappointed to hear about Cas and his struggle to find who he was once again, the older Winchester had a few things in the back of his mind he wanted to get off his chest. “Listen, guys, I can’t any more lies—from anyone.”
You swallowed at hearing the word coming out of Dean's mouth, knowing they were directed towards you. You had to admit you were starting to feel bad for the behavior you had been doing. Keeping secrets and lying between your teeth, it was a bad habit you hated. Because most of the time it was coming from other people. But it seemed the shoe was now on the other foot. You were the one covering up secrets that shouldn't have been hidden, lying about your health that clearly wasn't what it used to be. Most importantly, you weren't the only one going through the trials. 
“I know. And I'm sorry. I should have told you both. I...I just wanted to believe that I was okay. I don't know." You apologized to the brothers for making them worry. “It was stupid of me. I've been so wrapped up in my own head lately with everything, I felt like I could do it all on my own."
“Well, you heard what Cas said—that first trial hurt you in the ways that even he can’t heal.” Dean said. You let out a quiet sigh from the repeated information that sent a shiver down your spine for what else might be ahead for you. “I’m not trying to scare you, sweetheart. I need you to be honest with us from here on out.” 
"You're right." You said, nodding your head. "And I will be."
“Listen, I may not be able to carry the burden that comes along with these trials…” Dean wasn't the type of person who liked to get into the moment and share his feelings. But he always was  willing to reassure you that you weren't alone. “but I can carry you.” 
You felt your lips stretching into a smile at how cheesy the words sounded when they first came out of his mouth. All though you knew he meant well and tried to express his support to you, Dean couldn’t take all the credit for his heartfelt words. Sam wondered why the words sounded so familiar to him. He wasn't the type to ruin a good moment like this, but he couldn't help but mention it.
"You realize you kind of just quoted 'Lord of the Rings,' right?" Sam asked his brother. You felt the ends of your lips stretch into a wider smile at what you just heard, and how right the younger man was. Dean was always supportive and tried his hardest to give a good speech, but he cherry picked from popular references to get the mood just right. You weren’t complaining. It was kind of sweet in a way at how he tried to at least give you
"Come on, man. Why do you got to ruin the moment like that? And if it is, so? It's the Rudy hobbit." Dean defend himself for what he said in the moment. Sam couldn’t help himself when he let out a chuckle. "Rudy hobbit always gets a pass." 
"Wherever it came from, I still think it's sweet. It means the world to me that you guys have been supporting me through everything. If it wasn't for you both, I don't think I would be able to do this." You sat on the edge of your seat so you were leaning against the front seats, making it easier so you could show your appreciation to them. You gave a tight hug to Sam from behind and placed a kiss on the temple of Dean's head. It never hurts to take the time to acknowledge how much crap you put them through. "I love you both. You know that, right?"
"All right. All right. Let's leave the touchy feely stuff for the bunker. I'm trying to drive." Dean said. You laughed quietly to yourself and obliged, sitting back down in your seat before you could distract him even more from the road. A moment of silence fell between the three of you, leaving you alone with your own thoughts about the things that unfolded tonight. The things that were said, and what you discovered. Dean knew one thing for sure. "This family is all we need. That's for damn sure." 
Dean turned up the music for the rest of the ride back home, knowing it was going to be a long one. You got yourself comfortable and looked out the window to the nighttime scenery pass you by. Cas was out there with the angel tablet with no way of being able to get ahold of him. Meg was dead. And you were finding out doing the trials wasn't what you thought they were going to be. You were physically damaged in ways modern medicine probably couldn't explain and not even an angel could cure. If you were honest, you were a little bit scared about what this meant for the future. A future in which meant no demons were going to exist. 
You were going into this situation with blind faith, yes. But you were doing this for one reason. To give your child a better life you never had. What Meg said about trying not to become what you hated...you knew she was talking about your mother. Her desire to have a child of her own drove her to do insane things. And while she tried to fix her mistakes, they inventively bit her in the ass. Your life was tough for a while, but you were starting to pick up the pieces. You weren't going to be like her. You would have done the trials regardless if you were pregnant or not. Because it was you who was supposed to be the one doing them. 
One has to get their hands dirty to get what they wanted out of life. If it meant enduring yourself into whatever God intended to close the gates of hell, so be it. Because it was all going to be worth it in the end.
[Next Part]
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