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criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years ago

Text

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom

Word Count: 8.2k

I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

“He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

“Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

“How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

“I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

“Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

“I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

“N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

Until today.

“Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

“Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

“Why? Is there a problem?”

Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

“No, but I just think that-”

“Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

Right.

I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

But not to me – no, never to me.

“Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated groan.

After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

Or so I thought.

I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

“Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

“Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

“I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

“C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

“Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

“You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

“I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

“Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

Oh, fuck no.

I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

“What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

“Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

“You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

“I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

“Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

“I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

“Oh. O-Okay.”

And that was that.

It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

“D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

“S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

“Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

“Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

“You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

“Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

“Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

“I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

“Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?” “N-No, Miss.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

“B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

“Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

“I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

“Color?”

“G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

“Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

“Tolstoy.”

“Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

“Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

“O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

“You okay, baby?”

“Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

“Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

“T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

“Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

“S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

“Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

“Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

“Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

“N-No, it’s just-”

I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

“No, it isn’t good enough?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

“P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

“Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

“W-Why did yo-”

“You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

“S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

“Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

“S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

“Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

“H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

“Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

“Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

“I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

“Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

“Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

“Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

“Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me.

“Y/N - fuck!”

Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

“C-Can you stay? Please?”

The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

“Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

“Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

“Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

“What is it, baby?”

A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?”

After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

“I have another question,” he says shyly.

“Lay it on me, baby.”

The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

“It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

“First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

“Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #dom!reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #smut #dom/sub #sub spence

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slasherhaven · 4 years ago

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Hihi! How are you?

Since im a slut for cliches could i get some hcs of slashers reacting to their s/o (who never said i love you) saying "because i love you" in the middle of an argument? 😳🙏

The Slashers reacting to their S/O saying “I love you” for the first time during an argument:

Thomas Hewitt

The argument probably stemmed from his frustration about his own feeling for you. Thomas doesn’t like fighting, especially with you, but everyone has moments were they let their frustration get better the better of them. He had been a little cold and distant, and that had been the reason for your argument. He knew that he loved you but just never thought that you could feel the same, he was angry at himself and he took that out on you. Which he would instantly regret.

He loves you too, so much, and he is so sorry. As soon as the words leave your mouth, Thomas freezes and his eyes widened. At first he thought that he had imagined it but he definitely didn’t. He instantly calms down because he can’t stay mad at anything when you’ve just confessed your love for him. He’s very apologetic for having argued with you in the first place and is quick to tell you that he loves you too.

Michael Myers

It earns you a glare. The look he gives you instantly shuts you up. Your confession had been accidental and now you worried that you had said the wrong thing and made him even angrier. In a way you did. He wasn’t angry at you exactly, he was angry with himself, and angry about the effect that you and your words had on him.

It ends the argument but he’s going to need some time to process. He’ll just leave, admittedly leaving you wondering if he was alright or if he was coming back at all. But he just needs a moment alone to process your confession, his own feelings, and what that means for him. He’ll return soon enough, not exactly apologetic but he isn’t angry anymore, he’ll even let you fuss over him when he gets back if you’re worried. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t say anything. It’s hard to tell how he feels about what you said but he was still here, so that was a good sign.

Jason Voorhees

Jason hates arguing but it happens to everyone. Jason really hates arguing but he’s a person just like you and everyone argues at some point. He just already feels back about it, but then you had to go and tell him that you love him? Now he feels even more guilty because he feels that he’s been terrible to you, even if that is far from the truth.

Your words are both heart-warming and reassuring. Jason just melts when you tell him that you love him, even if it was with a sense of anger and frustration. You still said it and you still meant it. He also finds it reassuring because this just proves that even when you argue, you still love him. It’s fair to say that he isn’t mad anymore, he just wants to hold you. He’s very apologetic for the argument and expresses that he loves you too, so so much.

Brahms Heelshire

Love is certainly away to calm Brahms down. Arguing with Brahms is a nightmare because he doesn’t listen and he feels a whole lot, so when he’s angry it’s difficult to bring him back down. But normally the best way to do this is hugging him, showing him some affection. This time, you had accidently confessed your love in the heat of the moment. And, well...that worked. He instantly paused and looked at you with widened eyes. All he wants if for you to love him, so he really hopes that you meant it and you weren’t just getting him to shut up. This isn’t how he thought he’d first hear those words from you but that’s okay.

“Did you mean it?” Brahms’ anger has completely left his voice, replaced with vulnerability. When you tell him that you did mean it, he’s wrapping his arms around you and burying his face either in your neck or in your hair. He loves you too! You’re almost in shock about how fast his attitude changed, but of course you return his embrace.

Bo Sinclair

Well, it definitely shut him up. Arguments with Bo are pretty common, he often lets his anger get the best of him, but you had never found a way to get him to just shut up. This did it. As soon as he processed the words you just said, he froze, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“You really know how to pick your moments, don’t you?” that’s his way of telling you that he’s not mad anymore, that this argument is over, and he loves you too. But you never expected him to sincerely return the sentiment just yet, you knew it was something he struggled with. But he sighed, pulling you towards him, and kissing the top of you head. How about the two of you just forget about all that nastiness now?

Vincent Sinclair

Now he feels extra guilty about the argument. He already feels guilty whenever the two of you argue or whenever you seem upset about something. But now that you just told him that you love him, he feels even worse for making you feel bad and arguing with you.

He loves you too! He’s extra gentle and affectionate with you to make up for the argument, telling you that he’s sorry and that he loves you too. So, so, much. Expect a lot of cuddling after that, he just needs to hold you, comfort you and be comforted by you. He knows that the two of you will move past this easily, and he’s thankful for that.

Lester Sinclair

It’s then that he realises he was taking out his frustration on you. He had a bad day, arguing with his brothers, and he hadn’t realised he was taking it out on you until you let it slip that you loved him. He instantly realised that he had messed up and wanted to make it better.

“Aw hell, I love you too. I’m sorry” Lester apologised, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He really does feel bad. All he wants is to give you a hug and a kiss now but he knows that he had probably upset you and doesn’t want to do anything else wrong. But as soon as you hug him, he’s holding you close and kissing the top of your head. He won’t let this happen again, he’s so sorry.

Bubba Sawyer

Arguments with Bubba are rare but everyone argues at some point. Oh he hates arguing so much, he hates confrontation of any kind, but he hates it even more when it’s with you. He hates that he feels the need to argue with you and he hates that he’s upsetting you. He just doesn’t know how to make it better either. Any anger or frustration that he did feel disappears when you blurted out “because I love you!”

Your words are met with surprise, and then a hug. He doesn’t care if you’ve just been arguing. Once he’s processed your words, he’s pulling you into a tight embrace and he babbles out apologies and his own confession of love. In his mind, everything is okay now, you can both move past one silly argument.

Billy Lenz

Billy freezes in surprise. Billy has moments when he can let his anger get the better of him but he usually goes to spend sometime alone when he’s feeling overwhelmed with emotion. This time it had started an argument though. Billy doesn’t take shouting well at all so you tried to not snap, advising him to just take some time and give himself some space. But he just kept going, eventually you did snap but saying “-because I love you, Billy!” It instantly makes him freeze, the raised voice nothing bothering him as much as it normally would because he was too focused on the actual words.

“Billy loves you too. Billy’s sorry” he knows that he should have gone off to calm down, he can’t blame you for finally snapping a little at him. But he loves you too and makes sure to tell you that as he pulls you into a clingy hug...he won’t be letting you go for a little while. He just went through a lot of emotions in a very short amount of time.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Doesn’t seem as surprised as you’d expect. Of course he already suspected how you felt for him, just from how you behaved and looked at him. So, your words don’t surprise him but the way that you’re finally confessing your feelings does a little. Of all moments, you chose an argument to blurt that out? It’s almost amusing.

Ends the argument. Asa collects himself and approaches you, cupping your cheek in his hand. It’s alright now, he understands. It’s always a little scary how he can go from threatening to comforting (or the other way around), but you appreciate it right now.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

He’s infuriating. Arguments with Jesse are absolutely infuriating. Normally he will just tell you how he feels, what his problem is, and then give you the silent treatment. That is, until you make him snap and he actually starts arguing with you properly, he get’s really frustrated is he can’t express himself fast enough, whether he’s using the phone or sign language, so he gets in a really bad mood. But finally you snap, accidently telling him that you love him, he’s pretty quick to collect himself. He needs to handle this better, he knows that.

He doesn’t want to be arguing anymore, especially now. It’s time to actually talk to each other properly, to apologise and work through it, because he loves you too. And he’ll tell you that.

Otis Driftwood

“Why did you have to go and say a thing like that?” You had just been screaming at each other and now you’re telling him that you love him, even if it was accidental. He wants to stay mad but this made that difficult for even him.

He’s more focused on your confession than his anger now. God, he hates the effect you have on him. He hates that he can’t even be mad at you right now. But more than any of that, he loves you too. Hell, he knows that. And you really love him, you just told him so. He can’t even remember what the argument was about now, it was probably something stupid though. He’s still pretty grumpy as he puts an end to the argument, not actually apologising but you get the message. He’s more interested in hearing more about how you love him.

Baby Firefly

She’s goes from angry to smiling, fast enough to give you whiplash. All anger just fades away because this is so much more interesting, she can be pretty erratic at the best of times, you’re getting used to it. Any arguments with her end pretty fast.

“Well why didn’t you just say so!” if that’s why you’re so worried about her and why this whole argument is happening, you should have just said something and all of this could have been avoided. She loves you too, silly!

Yautja (Predator)

You’re arguing with him because you’re concerned for him? You had been arguing about him going on a dangerous hunt, you were worried about him getting hurt and he took it as an insult. Humans are still a little confusing to him, the way he saw it was that you didn’t think he could to it and that you were questioning his abilities, which obviously wasn’t the case at all. You just cared about him because you were in love with him, and that’s what you told him, it just slipped out.

Oh, little human, why didn’t you just tell him that? Like I said, he’s still getting used to all the confusing complexities that come with being human but he’s learnt what love means. He’s learnt that he has those feelings for you, he just hadn’t had a word for that feeling until now. He realises that your concern comes from a feeling of love and protectiveness rather than underestimating him, and that warms his heart. He tells you that he loves you too and promises that he’s going to be okay on this hunt, everything was going to be just fine.

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importantdelivery · 3 years ago

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°Highschool AU° - Chapter 3: Naughty Boy-

words: 1,033

estimated reading time: 4min

The sun was reflected, glittering in the windows of the skyscrapers. Cheerful birds flew by, chirping. It was a beautiful Friday afternoon, which Nick and Jason spent in the greenery after both of their mothers had kicked them out.

“Go outside and enjoy the nice weather. Always sitting up in that dark room of yours. There's no harm in getting a little sunlight.” were the last words, before Jason's mother shooed her lazy son out of the house.

Nick as well had been persuaded by his mother that he could buy himself and his friend an ice cream after all. Now the two boys were sitting on a spare bench at the park, watching other people while eating ice cream.

“I feel like a 10 year old.”, Nick groaned.

“But the ice cream's actually good.”, Jason replied shrugging his shoulders.

That was true. Nick couldn't complain about the quality of his ice cream, even though he chose something basic like vanilla.

“Oh you should've seen Eric's face today.”, Nick suddenly started a conversation, but every word cost him time, during which his ice melted.

A big drop was about to come off the cone and land directly on his pants. That really wouldn't look good on black shorts.

“Ah yeah? What did ya do?” Jason wasn't really interested in his story and instead preferred to focused on licking his chocolate ice cream.

He would never try the blue-flavored one ever again, which is why he enjoyed his current treat so much. In his opinion, chocolate was simply the best. In fact, he was so concentrated, he didn't hear a word Nick was saying. But as soon as he heard Rachel's name, he knew he hadn't missed anything important.

After two minutes, Nick continued to talk: “And then she was like-” “Hold on, Romeo. I've had about enough of that girl in a week. Please spare my weekend, will ya?”

Jason kept his uninterested expression, which annoyed the hell out of his friend: “Is it because you're jealous or are you just being an asshole?”

“You always talk about Rachel like... ugh”, he sighed, “Can we talk about something else? Or someone else?” He asked as politely as he could, being as blunt as he was.

“Fine.” Nick relented irritably.

“So what do you think about Salim then?”

“Anything except Rachel or Salim! Please!”, Jason almost bit into his cold ice cream angrily, which only made Nick wonder. Was his friend alright? He knew he could be an exhausting bundle of energy, but seeing him this grumpy rarely happened to him.

“Hey man, I seriously don't get it. What's your problem?” “I just … don't like that guy.”

Nick somehow had the feeling, that his longtime friend was lying, but instead of pushing Jason, he decided to keep quiet. When the time was right, his buddy would surely come around and tell him about what was really bugging his mind.

Nonetheless Nicky needed to defend Salim in some kind of way: “You know... Salim actually is a cool guy.”

“Yeah well I don't care. Still don't like him.”

Wow, that was effective… not.

The two had to change their topics of conversation as often as joggers ran past the park bench, which happened quite often, since it was right next to the path. But at least both of the boys were able to calm down.

“Ey, how much money you got left?” Jason asked and buried his hands inside the big pockets of his outsized trousers. He already had his mind set on something.

“About 3$, why?”

“Come on, let's grab a coke or somethin' at the kiosk.”

In a matter of seconds Jason was back to his old self again and cheerfully jumped up.

The kiosk was on the other side of the park, so the students had to walk past several dogs, some of which were running around and playing while the other half took big dumps on the fresh green grass. Automatically the two guys shared a moment of disgust, vigorously shaking their heads to delete the imprinted images. How could some visitors still sit on the floor with a blanket?

At the end of the path, the two of them passed a big metal gate, that was only opened during the day. Its rusty joints were squeaking every time a soft breeze pushed it further away.

Adjoining the park was a not too busy road, which the boys could easily cross.

Right on the corner of said street was their destination – the kiosk.

As they entered the small store, a nice and welcoming atmosphere overcame them, but Jason's intentions weren't as pure.

While he instructed Nick, to get the coke, he roamed the narrow corridors mischievously looking for something special.

After his inspection, he quickly glanced back at Nick, who had finally paid for two bottles of coke and therefore distracted the cashier, which worked in Jason's favor. His arm, which was turned away from the cashier, shot out and reached into the taboo alcohol shelf without anyone noticing.

It was very clever to put these products closer to the counter for better surveillance. However, this did not deter the young man in the least. On the contrary, it rather tempted him.

And as if nothing happened, he left the shop alongside Nick, who was handing him a coke.

“Thanks.”, he mumbled and immediately opened it up.

As quickly as he had stolen his stolen goods, he choked on the coke. The sudden appearance of a familiar face startled him. Out of the blue, Salim stood there with a strikingly angry look.

“Salim.”, Jason swallowed. Some of the liquid that was supposed to go into his mouth ran down his throat.

“What's that in your pocket?” The Iraqi pointed at the suspiciously large bulge in Jason's pants .

“You mean this?” Jason slid his hand into his pocket, touching the cold glass of the liquor bottle.

A delighted grin spread across his face, then he slowly lifted his hand back up, revealing a crooked middle finger. Of course, he would not unpack the stolen goods right in front of the store. That would be foolish.

But Salim definitely knew.

The first thing I do after I get home from work: Metaphorically diving into my wonderful fantasy bubble and writing fiction all day long.

#dark pictures house of ashes #house of ashes #salim othman #jason kolchek #nick kay #rachel king #eric king #clarice stokes #joey gomez #nathan merwin

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years ago

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Jared & Jensen: Down South

This song inspired this fic a little She's Country by Jason Aldean

Pairing: Jared x Y/n, Jensen x Y/n

Pov: Readers

Warnings: None, fluff, implied smut, language, mention of "Supernatural", mention of Clif, teasing

Summary: Spending the holidays together was always nice, but this summer is going to be even better. Jared and Jensen tend to spoil their girl just a tad.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: This has been sitting in my book of fic ideas for a while now, and now that I'm finally free for the summer I have time to write it. Ofc @firefly-graphics for the awesome dividers that I keep using!

Tag list: @akshi8278 @wonderfulworldofwinchester @fofisstilinski @sweetdetectivequeen @doctorlilo @hit-meup69 @deanswaywardgirl @samsgirl93 @band--psycho

Main Master List

Jared Padalecki Master List

Jensen Ackles Master List

This is only our second summer together, but gosh do these two love to spoil the hell out of me.

Sometimes it can be too much, but they tend to reign it in. Instead, they like spoiling me in a more sensitive way, I love praise and hell so do they.

This summer, Jared had suggested that we go out to the islands, and Jensen suggested that we go back home to Texas, and do a few things at home.

Jared and Jensen were tired of the cold in Vancouver. I could tell as every night they'd come home and strip from their work clothes, and slip into our bed.

Late nights were hard on the two of them. They were very touchy-feely people. Even though many people didn't know that about Jensen. The moment he was home, he was wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing me softly on my neck.

Jared was different in his own way. He liked when we were together, but alone if that makes any sense. I've only been with these two dorks for two years now, and I'm still learning so much about them.

Since the season of supernatural was over I really did have the boys all to myself. I can't say that's a bad or good thing. It's just a thing. I love them I really do, but they've both stamina of a wild bear. They just don't stop.

In a sexual way, and in every other way. They push and push, until your screaming under them. But I'm getting off-topic. It was really up to me where we went for the summer.

I could see the smallest disappointment on Jared's sweet face when I agreed with Jensen about going back home to Texas. We pack our belonging into our carry-on bags, and Clif drives us to the airport.

The Vancouver airport is small, and nobody is really there besides a few other people. People are on their phones, reading books, and a few even have their laptops out.

It's odd, but I'm more than happy to get away from the cold. Jensen has his phone out, and Jared's pulled a book out of his carry-on bag. I kind of feel like a child in between these two strong men.

Our flight isn't bound to leave for another hour, or so all I can do is sleep. I lean my head onto Jared's shoulder feeling bad about agreeing with Jensen. I'm trying my hardest to make sure Jared knows I still love him.

Jared leans into my touch and keeps his head gently laying on top of mine. He moves the book over his hand sitting between his knee and mine. "Baby you can read with me." He says I only hum as the position I'm in is starting to cause pain in my neck.

I shift uncomfortably, and Jared turns completely to look at me. These airport chairs are not doing anything other than causing pain in my neck, and now my back.

I hear Jared close his book, keeping his thumb in the book for a quick bookmark. "If you're comfortable doll we can figure out a different way for you to sit." He says he's always been the one to make sure I'm comfortable, sweet-voiced, and not demanding, unlike Jensen.

Jensen is pulled him his phone when he hears Jared and me talking. "what's wrong you two?" He asks, he grumpy because we have to wake up so early and now we have to wait, he's not a very patient person.

"We are just discussing a different way for her to be more comfortable Jay," Jared says, I peak up my morning voice apparent. "Yeah, these damn airport chairs aren't a bit comfortable, babe," I said moving yet again, all I want to do is get a little nap before getting on the flight.

Jensen rolls his eyes, and sets his phone in his bag, before moving the armrest and expanding the space between our seats, so Jared follows in suit moving his armrest.

"See now you can be comfortable with both of us, honey. Try to get some sleep you look like you haven't got any in a few days." Jensen says picking up his phone once again.

I extend my short legs onto Jensen lap, and he moves quickly so he can rest his hands on my legs once in a blue moon gently rubbing my ankle, I rested my head on Jared's lap, and breathed in his cinnamon, and pine scent from him clothes, he hummed and rested his large hand in my hair, before opening his book back up.

Whenever we flew we always did so in first class. This flight was no different, but to get home in a decent time we had a connecting flight. So after a long flight a connecting flight and a two-hour drive to our humble abode.

My feet were killing me, and all I wanted to do was sleep in our bed. I slipped my shoes off after Jared set me down after carrying me from the car. Jensen carried all of the bags after arguing with both of us.

I slowly made my way up the stairs, as Jared was quickly behind me. My frequently long yawns making me stop on the step, I'd feel Jared's hand on my back letting me know he was behind me, and also telling me that I couldn't sleep on the steps.

"Okay, I'll move Jare," I said climbing the last few steps. Finally, after hours of walking, flying I made it to our bed, but before I could get comfortable Jar was pulling me from the comfort of the bed and to the shower.

"You need to shower, I'll shower with you seeing as you're going to fall asleep soon." He said, walking out of the bathroom. I had dozed off by the time he had gotten back from grabbing towels.

"Aw, sweetie. Jared said pulling my shirt from over my head and getting undressed, turning on the shower. He got undressed and we both hopped into the warm shower. He washed my hair and then my body nipping slightly at my shoulder and neck. I giggle sleepily and leaned into Jared as he washed my hair out and my body off.

Just as quickly as we got into the shower we were out my towel wrapped around my smaller frame. I could see the way Jared's shoulders were moving under his tanned skin.

"Come on bug, Jay put your clothes out on the bed," Jared said grabbing my hand softly and dragging me back into the bedroom. I let Jared take my towel off and dress me in my silk pajamas. I climbed into bed, Jensen already in bed his arms open for me to climb into, he was shirtless like any night, and only wearing his boxers.

Jared climbed into bed the same way. Finally back home and in the comfort of my bed with my two, strong, tall dorks. The next few days we just spend in the bed, Jared's quick to make breakfast every morning, and at night they are both quick to have my body in shivers, and on fire from them working their tongues, and hands.

Have a girl melting into the sticky, and hot sheets.

The texas air was warm and that perfect seeing as I wanted to tease Jared, and Jensen. After days of staying in, we were finally going to leave. I had made a suggestion of going to the mall, to see the lines of clothing for the summer.

We went out, I was wearing shorts, a shirt that was all too revealing. I was more than happy to let the sunbeam down my skin. My ass falling out of the shorts, and my breasts busting from their confines.

I could hear Jensen sigh as I walked outside. Jensen and Jared were wearing dark blue jeans their cowboy boots, and light-colored tops to keep the sun from makin' them any hotter than they already were.

If looks, good looks could kill they would have killed me long ago, and every single person who watches the supernatural show. 1.4 million people would be dead, now that would be supernatural.

Going out with Jared and Jensen was like going out with two bodyguards behind you at all times. Funny actually because when Clif wasn't with us, they really did take that role to heart, more Jared than Jensen.

Jared was easily a few inches taller than Jensen, so he took that role of keeping not only me safe when we were in crowded spaces, but also Jensen. Jensen was keen on helping me pick out clothes, bags, and other more sluty pieces of fabric.

He likes me in blue, and red. While Jared liked me in purples and whites. Such a contrast between the two of them. So whenever I went to lingerie stores like say Victoria's Secret the two of them followed close behind me pointing out ones they loved, and sometimes I'd have to turn around give them my best stare so that they'd be quiet in the store.

Reds, blues, purples, and whites.

Night's after we'd go shopping Jensen would have me show off the things I had been bought. Jared loved to watch me spin around with a smile on my face as I saw the way the fabric fit my form nicely.

Jensen wanted control over my body on nights like those. He wanted to see how many spasmatic orgasms he could pull from me, and like Jared, he'd just watch. It was torture for the fact that walked out of the house like a slut with my ass and breasts for nearly everyone to see.

The next days, my inner thighs hurt, and my neck looked like I'd been abused, for the amount of small dark purple hickeys on my neck. Large handprints on my ass from me not being a good girl and listening to Jensen during the night. Half crescent moon nail marks on my hips from how hard Jensen had held on while he was pounding into me.

So there were their colors Purple hickeys, Red hand marks, and half crescent moon marks.

But before I knew it we were out yet again. Jared's idea of going riding horses, He really did love the countryside we lived in. When we first got together Jared and Jensen shared a look. A look that I soon realized meant that they loved to see their girl in cowgirl attire.

A literally one part of our closet was just cowboy boots, flared jeans, and western-styled shirted, a few buckles that were in glass cases. In my opinion, we looked like the three stooges walking out of our home.

But at the same time, I could see Jared and Jensens smiles. I couldn't possibly ruin that for them at least right now. The drive to the said horse riding wasn't far, but Jensen drove to that, and Jared sat in the back with me, my shirt unbuttoned, and our tinted windows keeping peering eyes out of our private business.

His hands were massaging my breasts softly, and gently. I leaned my head back letting the moment go over slower, he took the advantage to knock my legs open instead of wearing the flaring jeans, I had on a skirt.

His hand slips in gently kneading at the supple skin of my inner thigh. Jared's long fingers lazily grazing over my soaked center, his tongue starts to graze over my weak point just under my ear, and he sucks not hard but enough to send a shiver down my back, and straight to my core.

He's taken advantage of me in the back of the car many times, whispering dirty things into my ears, as he nibbles at it. I'm lost in a world of lust, and euphoria. Lost in the whispers that Jareds keeps saying.

I'm so lost that I don't feel Jared pull his hands away, or Jensen say that we were there. In this haze of romance, love, and lust. He taps my knee and pulls my attention towards him.

"Doll, come back to earth. We are here." He says kissing my cheeks gently. Always so gentle, always so sweet. Everything in a man a woman would want.

Jareds the first to get out, I see Jensen grab something in front of the passengers' front seat, but I disregard it as Jared is holding his hand out forme and waiting for me to regain my focus and reign in my emotions before getting out of the SUV.

When I do finally make my way out of the SUV on weak knees, I'm met with two bright smiles, warm and earthy. Everything around us is screaming nature. It's screaming to be photographed.

Jensen is quick to grab my hand, like I said he loves the idea of always touching me no matter the place. Jared's hand slips into my own, and yet again I fall in love with them all over again.

A treacherous cycle. A cycle of undying love for each other, a cycle of fights and make-up. A cycle of worldwind emotion, but to be in their arms at the end of the night is all that matters to me.

Jensen stops making me stop, which in turn makes them last person stop. "I bought a gift for the three of us." He says, His eyes are twinkling in the sunset sky. "Oh we do love gifts, don't we Y/n?" Jared says. I roll my eyes looking over my shoulder.

"I bought us, Drum roll please Jare..... Cowboy hats." He says placing mine on my hair, I giggle and shake my head a little letting the hat fall nicely onto my head.

Jared takes it with is an open hand, and Jensen is quick to put his on. And before you know it, once again we look like the three stooges. Matching costumes, and everything.

There isn't a moment I can't see my life being without them. Yes sometimes they are dorks, and yes sometimes they fight, we all fight. but falling in love with them I hadn't nearly excepted. But being in love with the two of them is something I couldn't stop even if I try.

Completed on: 06/19/2021

Posted on: 06/19/2021

#jensen x reader #jensenfluff #jensengirl #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jared paladecki #jaredfluff #jared padalecki x reader #jared x you #jared x reader #jared padalecki x y/n #jared padalecki x you #jared padalecki #summertime

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wordsablaze · 3 years ago

Text

Red In My Ledger

day five, where jason realises a little too late that dick isn’t an intruder breaking into his safehouse...

A/N: chaos overtook the angst,, whumptober prompts: misunderstanding / broken nose

Dick is tired.

He’s really, really tired.

In fact, he’s tired enough to simply forgo trying to make his way back to his apartment after patrolling. Though that may also subconsciously have something to do with Damian threatening to confiscate his grapple if he insists on using it when he shouldn’t - the actual confiscation probably wouldn’t be very effective but the same can’t be said about the kid’s killer pouting.

Either way, Dick takes a moment to lean against the nearest wall and rethink his options. He knows that getting back to his place is out of the question but he’s almost certain his safehouses are also too far away to get to without collapsing.

“This is fine,” Dick tells himself as he reroutes himself to one of the others’ safehouses.

Admittedly, he can’t even currently remember whose safehouse it is, but he’s sure none of them would mind too much since they all usually use his place to crash instead of their safehouses when they come to Bludhaven anyway. He keeps telling himself that as he stumbles his way up the fire escape, pausing every other second when one of his injuries knocks against something and sends pain shooting through his bones.

He’s breathing heavily by the time he reaches the window and clumsily opens it, all but falling through. His elbows reach the ground first and he just about maneuvers himself into rolling so he doesn’t give himself a concussion. Or rather, so he doesn’t make his current concussion worse.

“I’m giving you three seconds to explain yourself,” a cold voice says.

Dick is back to being wide awake within seconds, jumping to his feet and swinging a leg forwards to topple whoever it is threatening him. It doesn’t exactly work, because the other person seems to anticipate that and uses Dick’s momentum against him, pulling him forwards and landing an unavoidable punch on his nose. He curses weakly, stumbling and wincing when his back hits the still-open window, the only thing stopping him from falling out being the arm abruptly yanking him inside again.

“Dick?”

Jason.

Of course.

Dick knows how much Jason hates people dropping by unannounced and he inwardly curses his luck at having picked one of his safehouses instead of anyone else’s. Really, he can’t blame Jason for attacking him because what else is he meant to do when a potentially dangerous stranger breaks in through the security-protected window?

Realising that he’s been silent too long, Dick hums his agreement and grins as best as he can. “Hi, Jay! That was a great punch. I’m going to pass out now.”

And he does.

But not for long.

The pained noise that escapes him once he realises he’s conscious again is genuinely embarrassing but he’s too busy being in pain to care.

“Sorry but I’m gonna need you to stay awake now,” Jason explains quickly.

Dick sighs. “Because of the concussion?”

Jason nods but doesn’t say anything so Dick makes a grumpy face at him. Only to cry out when his nose burns, lifting his hand to check what the matter is instinctively. He’s not expecting the gauze he can feel and for a moment, he wonders if he’s suffering from memory loss.

“It, uh, really was a great punch,” Jason mumbles, pointedly not looking at him.

Oh, right.

“You broke my nose?” Dick asks incredulously. Except he can’t really be mad because, as he takes inventory of the rest of his body, he realises Jason must have patched him up before waking him up properly, which is honestly more of a kindness than he deserved for being so careless about which safehouse he’d picked.

“I also fixed your nose so shut up,” Jason replies, “and anyway, what were you thinking? You’re more bandage than skin, idiot.”

Dick shrugs, biting his lip to stifle a groan when that hurts. “I guess the criminals of tonight just felt more violent than usual. You know what they say about full moons...”

Jason snorts, then glares at him. “Sure, whatever. And let me guess, you didn’t even know anyone would be here?”

Now it’s Dick’s turn to avoid meeting Jason’s eye. He just shrugs again, hoping Jason will leave it alone but only getting about five seconds of tense silence before Jason punches his least injured shoulder.

“Hey!” he protests, even though it hadn’t actually hurt.

“What the hell is the point of having comms if you don’t call for backup when you’re hurt?” Jason demands, his jaw clenched.

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just- I didn’t think it was that bad.”

He knows Jason says something else but his eyes seem to have decided to close and he can’t focus on keeping them open as well as listening to Jason so he chooses the former, hoping that staying awake will cause the least amount of arguing. And it might have, had he actually managed to do so.

“-ick? Dick? Dick, look at me!”

He groans.

“Dick, I swear to god, if you don’t open your eyes right this second-”

Are his eyes shut?

Man, he was trying so hard to keep them open.

“ Dick! ”

He jumps as hands settle on his shoulders, managing to pull his eyes open and catch sight of Jason’s worried expression. Odd, he’d been expecting anger. Or irritation. Or a bunch of other things he can’t remember the names for, but definitely not worry.

“I thought you were mad,” he mumbles.

Jason’s frown softens into something strange as his grip loosens a little, clearly convinced Dick isn’t about to topple over without additional support. “I am mad. That doesn’t mean I can let you fall asleep.”

Dick nods, pretending that makes sense to him. “My nose hurts,” he says honestly, because it’s all he can think to reply.

After a pause, Jason exhales loudly. “I’m sorry about that, it’ll hurt for a few days but it was a perfectly clean break, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” Dick asks.

Jason smirks in a way that suggests he’ll regret asking that later but for the moment, he just holds out his hand and indulges him as if they’re legitimately both ten years old and relying on the magic of intertwined fingers to make everything better. Even if such childish logic isn’t exactly applicable anymore, it’s still nice to pretend it is. And hey, being both exhausted and concussed means the magic feels pretty real to Dick anyway.

“Thanks, little wing.” Dick smiles widely, hooking their pinky fingers together.

Muttering something that ten year olds definitely wouldn’t under his breath, Jason snatches his hand back and sharply stands up. “Yeah, whatever. If you fall asleep in the time it takes me to make us some tea, I will break your nose again.”

“Yes, Alfred,” Dick teases.

who needs proper medical attention when you have pinky promises and tea, right?

thanks for reading !! masterlist | dc sideblog: @batfamvibes

#whumptober2021 #no.5 #misunderstanding #broken nose #dc #batman #fanfiction #dick grayson #jason todd #hurt dick grayson #hurt comfort #fluff and angst #good jason todd #my writing #nightwhump #no beta we die like jason's attempts to pretend he doesn't care

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bisexualsforprompto · 4 years ago

Text

Puppy Love

Thanks @kceedraws for helping me with this (awhile ago lol) and coming up with Gilfred

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a crisp, clear autumn day, all was calm in nature, but all was chaos in the Wayne Manor.

Alfred was having a guest over, well two guests, and Jason, Dick, and Tim were having lots of fun trying to guess who it was.

“An ex-spy?”

Alfred groaned in annoyance as he set the cookies out on the table. “No, Master Todd, not an ex-spy.”

“An ex-assassin?”

“Bloody hell.” Alfred cursed under his breath, “No!”

Tim snorted causing Dick and Jason to look at him. Jason raised his eyebrow, “Oh yeah? What do you think, replacement?”

“An ex-girlfriend.”

Alfred didn’t respond.

Dick spat out the water he was drinking. “No way! No way! It totally is your ex!”

“If I say yes will you be civilized in front of her? She’s bringing her granddaughter too, she’s Master Damian’s age.” Alfred swatted Dick’s hand away from the cookies.

“Speaking of which, where is the demon?” Jason asked, scanning the room.

“Master Damian is with Master Bruce in the Batcave. Miss Cassandra is down there as well, training.” Alfred stated, “Speaking of which, I should go get them. Gina will be arriving soon.”

The boys snickered quietly to themselves as Alfred entered the Batcave. Each of them were equally astonished that Alfred even had ex-girlfriends, but they all realized that he must’ve been young once.

Cass trudged up the stairs and stood wordlessly next to the couch in the living room. Damian and Bruce came out next, Damian was scowling from having his training interrupted (by what he called “a frivolous waste of time”).

Damian slumped onto the couch, pouting. Dick walked over with a grin and rubbed his little brother’s hair. Damian pulled away with a snarl,

“Grayson if you touch my hair one more-“

Damian’s threat was interrupted by the sound of a doorbell and the abrupt opening of the manor doors by Alfred.

“Alfie!” A slender old woman exclaimed as she took off her motorcycle helmet. From behind her, a small blue-black haired girl shifted shyly and gave a small wave to the family butler.

“Welcome Gina, and I presume...Miss Marinette?”

With a slight nod, Marinette crept back behind her grandmother.

“Do come in ladies, the Waynes are in the living room.” Alfred bowed his arm out and gestured to the couch. Gina flicked his bow tie and laughed.

“Quite a nice home you’re looking after.”

“I suppose it is.”

Alfred took Gina’s helmet and hung it on the coat rack. Following her Nonna like a puppy, Marinette silently sat on the couch.

Dick was barely containing his excitement, Alfred’s ex-girlfriend and her adorable granddaughter who could very well be Alfred’s granddaughter?! He was practically bouncing off the walls. Jason was sitting next to him with an arrogant smirk, studying the eleven-year old in front of them, who had just glanced over at Damian, like he knew something they didn’t.

Tim was silent and had an objective, but calculating look on his face. Cass had a hidden smile on her face and Damian…

Well Damian was scowling.

From the moment that little kid laid eyes on him she started blushing and her blue eyes may as well have been heart eyes. With a huff, Damian shifted away from her, much to Marinette’s dismay.

Although Damian was only eleven himself, he thought Marinette a little child unworthy of his attention. Even before he went to live with his father he knew women and men alike would throw themselves at him in order to have an in with his family (after all, the Al Guhl’s were just as influential as the Waynes).

Damian had no interest in even talking to the girl. He had every intention to ignore her in fact.

That proved difficult though.

With a shit-eating grin, Jason announced, rather obnoxiously, “Why don’t you let the two kids play with each other while we talk?”

Damian was about to interrupt, showing Jason a threatening slicing motion across his own neck.

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Gina exclaimed, clasping her hands together. Before Marinette or Damian could blink, Gina was shoving them to the front yard. “Have fun, my fairy!” She cooed as she shut the door.

Before Damian could get away Marinette ran in front of him and kissed both of his cheeks. Repulsed, Damian jumped away and tried to run, but before he could make his great escape Marinette spoke.

“Bonjour, I’m Marinette. And you?”

“Not interested.” Damian said shoving Marinette away.

Marinette’s face turned to one of a kicked puppy, but nevertheless, she persisted. With an overdramatic pout she huffed to him,

“You could at least tell me your name instead of being grumpy.”

Anger in his eyes, Damian flipped himself around to face her. “Damian.” He said begrudgingly through gritted teeth.

“See, that wasn’t so hard!” Grabbing his wrist she dragged him over to the grassy part of the yard, “Now what should we play?”

“Nothing. I don’t have time to waste with your frivolous play time pursuits.”

Marinette cocked her head, “Well what do you wanna do?”

“I want to go upstairs and study in peace.”

Marinette’s eyes lit up, “Can I come?”

Damian whipped his head around and opened the front door, “No.”

To emphasize his rejection, he slammed the door in her face before she could follow him in.

~~~~~~

The visits with Gina and Marinette that followed all ended eerily similarly. Marinette doting over him with her puppy love, and Damian taking her affection and shoving it away.

But soon Marinette got too busy to come to Gotham with her grandmother (to the relief of Damian) and after a while of not seeing her, he was content to pronounce that annoying chapter of his life, closed.

That is until the Wayne gala.

Damian expected a night of boring business exchanges and businessmen trying to set him up with their daughters, after all Damian was sixteen and had matured enough to look like a proper young man.

He expected to see lots of women, but never in a million years did he expect to see the obnoxious girl from his childhood, Marinette Dupain-Chang.

And yet, there she was, he missed her walk in, but he didn’t miss her talking to his father.

Stomping over to them, Damian glared at his brothers, who were giggling at the youngest Wayne’s reaction to the aspiring designer's arrival.

“What are you doing here?” Damian hissed, skipping the pleasantries.

“Damian…” Bruce’s tone had an air of warning to it.

“Did you invite her, father?!”

“No.” Marinette said, crossing her arms, “Adrien Agreste invited me as his plus-one.”

Damian stood there dumbfounded. He didn’t even know little miss nobody Dupain-Chang knew the Agreste model. He wrinkled his nose, “Why would he invite you?”

“Damian,” Bruce commanded, “Don’t be rude.”

Marinette mirrored Damian’s scowl, “Is it so hard to believe we’re friends? His best friend couldn’t make it, so he invited me instead.”

Damian raised a brow, but before he could open his mouth Adrien Agreste appeared with a grin.

“I see you met Damian, Marinette!”

“Actually we already know each other.” Marinette said coolly.

“Really?” Adrien asked with a warm smile, “What a weird coincidence.”

Hoping the situation was now resolved, Bruce walked over to greet some other guests.

“I’m so glad two of my friends are getting along!”

Marinette smiled at Adrien dumbly with a blush as Damian responded, “We’re not friends.”

Unfazed, Adrien placed his hand on Damian’s shoulder, “Well I hope we can change that then.”

“Not likely.” Damian muttered underneath his breath as he stalked off.

Damian tried not to watch from afar as he brooded in the corner, but he found his eyes wandering anyway.

Adrien and Marinette were giggling, Damian wasn’t quite sure why, but he knew he didn’t like it. He half expected Marinette to follow him when he stormed off, but no, she was too busy doting over Adrien.

Damian crossed his arms with a huff.

“Somebody’s jealous,” Dick said in a teasing tone.

Damian tutted, “What nonsense are you on about now, Grayson?”

Dick gave Damian a knowing smirk, “Just that you haven’t taken your eyes off of Marinette since-“

“If you’re implying I’m jealous of the Agreste kid because of Dupain-Chang, then you’re delusional.”

Dick shrugged and held his hands up in mock surrender, “Sure, whatever you say little D.”

When his pesky brother finally walked away, Damian focused back on Marinette and Adrien. The blonde boy was extending his hand out to Marinette, causing her to blush.

Damian rolled his eyes, they were so effortlessly agitating, so they were perfect for each other.

Never mind that that particular thought made him more annoyed than before.

Taking her onto the ballroom dance floor, Adrien spun Marinette around. Her face was completely red, but she had the stupidest cute grin on her face.

Damian stomped out of the ballroom, not wanting to watch more. He told himself that he just wanted to go take a break from all the obnoxious business people in the room.

Damian walked aimlessly to the kitchen, where Alfred was currently preparing more food for the guests. Alfred’s eyes furrowed as he looked at Damian.

“What’s wrong Master Damian?” He asked with genuine concern.

“Nothing that concerns you, Pennyworth.” Damian responded with a biting tone.

After seeing Alfred’s unamused expression, Damian sighed, “I didn’t think Dupain-Chang was going to be here tonight.”

Alfred hid his smile, “Ah, and that’s a bad thing? Is she giving you a lot of attention again?”

“No,” Damian scowled, “I don’t understand it. Something must have happened to create a change in her behavior, but I cannot figure it out. She showed up with the Agreste kid, so perhaps her standards have lowered.”

Alfred shook his head disapprovingly, “Master Damian, I thought you didn’t like the affection you got from her, shouldn’t this be a good thing?” Alfred bit his lip, wondering if it would be a good idea to continue, “Unless, of course, you have feelings for the young lady?”

“I most certainly do not!” Damian shot back, “I...just got used to the attention I suppose. Now she’s cold with me.”

“Like you were with her all those years ago?”

“No!” Damian let out a resigned huff at Alfred’s BS-detecting expression, “...yes.”

“Do you think maybe she realized after all those years when you treated her poorly, that she started having a crush on those who were less...blunt?”

“I suppose it’s a possibility.” Damian muttered.

Alfred hummed, “Master Damian, I can tell you first hand that each of the women in Miss Marinette’s family are remarkable. I missed my chance, but you don’t have to. Speak to her, or you’ll regret it, I know I did…”

In silent contemplation about Gina, Alfred went back to cooking.

Damian looked at his shoes for a minute, seemingly trying to figure out if he should take his butler’s advice. After a beat of hesitation, Damian went back into the party. He walked into the ballroom like a man on a mission, and of course, he did have one.

To get her back.

Tags:

@ira-sairain

@dawnwave16

@maribat-is-lifeblood

@sleepy-red-bug

@buticaaba

@thestressmademedoit

@thanks-captain-obvious

#maribat #gilfred #daminette #kinda

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melancholic-pigeon · 4 years ago

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Too Short For Ao3 Fic #3? 4?

SO this is the extended edition of the bonus wip I did with Sally's birthday. The overall fic it belongs to is Extremely Smutty, so I went in and revised out the brief references and I'm posting the family-centric g-rated stuff for anyone who wants that but not the smut! Cough.

Also, I felt bad about missing WIP Wednesday again. Lolsob.

Percy rouses at around eleven PM to a sketch of himself on Jason's pillow. There's a note on the other side.

I wanted to wake you up to say goodbye, but you looked so comfy I didn't have the heart to. your mom's presents are in the bag by my desk. say hi to everyone for me. I'll call tomorrow anyway.

love you to the moon and back.

-J. ❤

Complete with a little red heart. He doesn't even care that the doodle of him next to it, burritoed in a pile of blankets, includes a little spot of drool— he can tell by the rest of his cartoony, ballpoint features that Jason put it in because he thinks it's cute.

(And by the fact that he's said so, several times.)

Percy gathers up his junk. The cornflower blue sweatshirt he steals goes halfway down his fingers. He's come to accept that at six foot three and counting, Jason is the taller of them and always will be— barring some sort of horrible wood-chipper accident or curse from a grumpy deity.

Fortunately, there's something about looking up to meet someone's eyes that Percy finds incredibly attractive. He has since Annabeth outgrew him for the first time in eighth grade.

He heads out in his own jeans and the boxers he packed and the sweatshirt that smells like cinnamon. Once he boards the train, he stands with his arm around a pole and the other holding the bag against his chest, and tries to stay casual and keep the grin off his face.

It's almost midnight when he gets home. His mom, of course, is still awake, so he heads into the living room to greet her.

"My other half says hello."

There's a pile of presents on the coffee table. He puts the bag with the rest of them and sits down, kissing her cheek.

"He didn't have to get me anything." She closes her book and eyes the bag with a fond sigh. "How is he?"

Percy's the same way she is, always happy to do favors and give gifts, but feeling pretty awkward about receiving them. Jason's even worse, the three of them in an ongoing and circular competition to never let any of it go reciprocated.

"Working too hard, as always. Pulling As and winning games and barely sleeping to do it. His stepmother's up his ass and his father's a bully, so, you know, news at eleven." He leans his head onto her shoulder. "That's why he gives you stuff. He's trying to show you how much he appreciates you."

She sighs, and Percy knows it's because she's just as frustrated by the whole thing as he is.

"He knows I appreciate him too, I hope."

"Without a doubt." Percy smiles at her, watching as she goes a little pink and smiles back. "You have a talent for making him feel appreciated."

"He treats my baby like a prince," she says softly. "That's why I appreciate him so much in the first place. How could I do anything else?"

Percy turns his face into her shirt collar, another futile attempt to hide his goofy expression,

"He really does, doesn't he?"

Holding doors, pulling out chairs, offering an arm on unsteady streets. Jason's never laid his coat over a puddle, but Percy's pretty sure he would, if the option presented itself.

His mom starts playing with his hair, her fingers light and familiar.

"I'm just happy you're happy, sweetheart."

He knows that feeling too.

Half asleep from the petting, Percy lets himself be a little babyish. It's after midnight now, which means it's her birthday, and he knows that sometimes she misses when he was Estelle's age and little enough to curl up in her lap. He's way too big for that now, obviously, but he can still slide down the couch and rest his head there.

"You too, Mama."

She looks at him, her eyes misty with emotion and almost green in the light.

She's smiling, too.

She smiles a lot, these days.

—

In the morning, Paul makes coffee while Estelle helps unwrap the avalanche of presents. She's at the age where ripping paper makes her squeal with hysterical laughter, which worms its way into Percy's heart and melts it into pudding.

Several of them are from Percy's friends, including a handbound book of original recipes from Leo, a lovely silver bracelet inset with mother-of-pearl that Beckendorf made himself, and a huge sheathed knife with a matching decorative handle from Clarisse. The last one makes his mom snort as she gets up to put it on the bookshelf, out of reach of curious toddler hands.

"Decorative. Sure."

"I bet she'd teach you how to use it if you asked."

"I know how to use a bowie knife, dear. Your father and I used to catch and cook our own fish when we went camping."

"Which reminds me, he still hasn't taken me out," Paul cuts in, frowning. "I've been saving up dad jokes and embarrassing stories for four years."

"I'll bug him about it the next time we talk," Percy promises. "It's probably the ADHD."

"Do you want me to bug you about bugging him?"

"If you haven't set something up by blueback season, yeah."

Percy and Paul went in on a pound of jasmine tea, which his mom reaches for next. She immediately asks for a cup— it's one of two days out of the entire year where she lets other people wait on her, for a change, and even that took a lot of cajoling.

Paul makes the tea, since Percy usually scalds the leaves and it turns out tasting like grass. She probably wouldn't complain anyway, but it's her birthday, and she deserves to have the best tea that can be made in their kitchen.

"Is the last bag from Jason?" Paul sets the mug on a coaster in the middle of the coffee table, and Percy scoops the baby into his lap so she doesn't try to grab it. She mashes her tiny hand against his cheek.

"And Thalia. I'm not sure if they went in on stuff or he just packed them both in one bag to make it easy."

Either is a possibility. He watches as his mom reaches in and pulls out a large wrapped frame, Thalia's spiky handwriting answering the question.

Whatever's inside, it makes her shut her eyes and exhale deeply through her nose.

"Please pass on that I am absolutely furious."

She turns the frame around. An autographed vinyl EP of Sign O' the Times by Prince— one of the albums Percy grew up on, though she skipped a number of the songs when he was little. Thalia must have spent a fortune on it.

"That woman is incredible," Paul breathes, lightly touching the glass. "How does she get this stuff?"

"See!"

"She has friends in high places." Percy grins as Estelle reaches for the album, and holds her over the glass so she can touch it too. "She's also really good at barter chains."

His mother shakes her head, but he can tell how delighted she is— the two of them have spent hours animatedly talking about music, Thalia hanging on every word and groaning with jealousy over the concerts his mom went to in the eighties.

"I know exactly where I'm going to put it."

Thalia got her a turntable for her fortieth birthday last year, as well as a full set of replacements for every worn-out record in their collection— and had the originals framed too, since they had sentimental value. They're currently occupying the better part of two walls of his mom's study.

There's a blank spot by her bookshelf, right underneath the first copy, that the autographed album will fit into perfectly. Percy grins.

"I'll hang it up for you later."

She doesn't argue. There's only Jason's left, his careful print written out across the same paper Thalia used. The crinkling draws Estelle's attention, and she gleefully reaches over to help tear it off.

Their mom gasps at what's inside and puts a hand to her mouth, her eyes going bright.

It's a watercolor portrait of Percy and Estelle, laughing by the shoreline. She's dressed in a little bucket hat, a ruffled swimsuit patterned to look like a clownfish and the coolest shades in the world— sparkly blue frames shaped like seashells that he kind of wishes he could get in his size. He's in a wetsuit, having spent the morning surfing, and he's holding onto her hands so she can jump at the waves. In the distant background is the Montauk lighthouse.

It's beautifully done, like everything else Jason's ever put to paper, but Percy's never choked up like this over one of them.

"You remember that, Beluga? That was on my birthday, when you came and visited me and Jason at the beach."

"Beach?" she asks, expectant. Paul bursts into laughter, sounding as rough-voiced as Percy feels.

"You're your mother's daughter, sweet pea."

"Beach!" Estelle insists. Percy noses her pudgy cheek.

"It's too cold to swim, baby." His mom's eyes are sparkling, still a little teary. He can see Estelle in the smile on her face. "But we could go for a walk and visit."

"Brunch first." Paul kisses her— Percy averts his eyes, wrinkling his nose at his sister to make her giggle again— and gets up, heading back into the kitchen.

It's a lovely way to spend a late morning. Pale blue araucana eggs courtesy of Grover's new hens, a blueberry coffee cake from Nico by a fantastic hole in the wall in Hell's Kitchen, Paul's signature home fries made with blue potatoes and seasoned to perfection; all of it delicious.

Jason calls while Percy's doing the dishes. After his deep, resonant performance of the happy birthday song, the five of them chat on speakerphone for a little while, though he has to excuse himself pretty quickly to keep banging through his reading.

"Maybe next year," Percy sighs. His mom puts her hand on his hip, then crouches down to help Estelle with her light-up sneakers.

"He's always welcome for a rain check."

"He's always welcome, period," Paul adds. For the second time, Percy gets dangerously close to sniffling.

Montauk is a little far for a day trip, so they head to Brighton Beach instead. Estelle's shrimpy legs get tuckered out more quickly than the grownups' do, so Percy ends up carrying her on his hip, snuggled into his jacket to block the chilly breeze. She points at seagulls, shouting triumphantly every time.

"More bird!"

"That's right. A whole flock of 'em."

They watch for a while as the gulls fight over a discarded pizza crust. Then Percy feels an arm around his back and a head against his shoulder.

"I don't know how I got so lucky," his mother murmurs, barely audible over the rushing of the waves.

Percy's eyes sting.

For most of his life, her birthdays had been spent without fanfare. He was rarely actually there for them anyway, and Gabe complained so much it was easier to just ignore the day and focus on survival instead.

She'd been triaging like that since before she even met his dad, keeping herself afloat when nobody seemed to care if she drowned. It would have been easy to lie down and give up. Percy's pretty sure he would have, in her place.

He turns to hug her with the obligatory proclamation of a Stella Sandwich. He catches Paul's eye over her shoulder, and gets a wide, sentimental grin in response.

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Percy tells her, leaning his cheek against the top of her head while his sister wriggles with delight between them.

"Listen to our son," Paul adds. "He's very wise, as you raised him to be. This is all on you, honey."

Within moments, she's surrounded by her whole family on all sides, and Percy has another arm around his back, and he's getting a little choked up over it all.

When she first started dating Paul, back when Percy was still in middle school, she'd spent weeks all aflutter. It was the happiest he'd ever seen her at the time. They'd sit outside and work on her car together, and she'd slip into song like a grease-stained fairytale princess without even thinking about it.

Seeing them interact is like cool water on a burn, Paul's devoted kindness soothing a lifetime of sitting back and watching people treat her like dirt. He worships her, just like she deserves and long overdue.

"I love you," she says, tearful and muffled in someone's shoulder. "All of you, more than anything."

"Love Mama," Estelle replies, and that's it— Percy's blubbering.

It'll never undo the damage, but it's about time she got a chance to heal and thrive.

-here in our bed, chapter 7, ~6200 words

#wip wednesday #yes I know don't look at me like that #i wrote this #sally jackson #paul blofis #estelle blofis #family fic #oh lord the cheese

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

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Nightwing BTHB: Slowly Running Out Of Air

Star / Done // Moon / Requested // Eye / Next

Ao3

Summary: Dick wakes up chained to the bottom of a pit. Then, it starts filling up.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Hopeless Situations, Permanent Injury, Amputation, Blood, Drowning

---

To nobody's surprise, waking up is absolutely a bitch.

He groans and shifts, trying to find his bearings, and the first thing he notices is that there's a rattling of clinking metal as his foot moves. Morbidly curious, Dick peeks his eyes open; all he sees is his own hand and a metal wall.

Dick's head pounds like one of the seven dwarfs got stuck in his skull and is trying to mine themself out through his eye sockets. Dick wouldn't be surprised if that dwarf was named Grumpy.

One thing this is helpful for is that he can immediately tell that he's Nightwing. There's no other time in his daily life he would wear black gloves with blue stripes going down his middle fingers.

His causon immediately rises with this new information. Nightwing waking up somewhere like this—with a headache, on the ground, with the sound of what's most likely chains, is never good.

He risks shifting again, making it seem like he's groggily beginning to wake up from whatever drug he's been hit with just in case someone is watching. There's definitely chains clinking down by his feet, specifically his left ankle.

He peeks his eyes open to better survey his location, however all that he discovers is more rusted metal walls and floor of the same material. The wall is rounded and about a foot and a half from his face. When he stretches his leg that's not connected to the chains, he hits the wall behind him. He glances up, and sure enough the walls around him expand upwards what must be a little less than fifteen feet. There's a grate laying over the mouth of the walls, showing more ceiling higher up and shrouded in shadows.

He's chained to the bottom of a metal pit.

This doesn't sound good at all.

He closes his eyes and stills, trying to figure out where he is and what he was doing to end up here. He was obviously doing something on patrol… perhaps a mission? He's not sure, the drugs in his system, while milder than most he's woken up with before, is making it really hard to recall much of anything. Honestly, the last thing he remembers is getting a phone call from Jason.

He slows his breathing, stilling so that he looks asleep to anyone watching.

Come on Dick. Just retrace your steps. You got a phone call from Jason... You answered… there was a hole in your sock. He wanted… what did Jason want…

"Big bird?" A voice calls, the tones becoming distorted as it echoes down the metal pit. "You up?"

"… Hood?" Dick tries, opening his eyes and looking up. Jason doesn't sound hurt or particularly startled, but Dick can't see anything above him other than the grating and the ceiling.

"I've been up for the past half hour," Jason's explains, "m'not hurt. But no one's come yet."

Dick nods to himself. So they've been captured together, but their captors might not be watching. "You in a pit too?" Dick asks, slowly working himself up so he's sitting.

He grabs onto the wall for balance when he gets to his feet. There's a heavy shackle definitely around his ankle, one that's not coming off without the key or very specific tools. It's tight too, he can feel it squeezing awkwardly against his tendons and bone. The chain connecting the shackle to an eye-hook in the floor looks several feet long, wound up in a neat pile on the floor to his side.

"No, tied to a chair up here," Jason answers as Dick begins to take stock of himself. He's been close to completely disarmed of anything useful. The only things he can find stock of is a few wingdings, some smoke pallets, his escrima sticks…

The things that are missing include his stash of small explosives, his rebreather, and his lockpicking set. Three things he's usually good at remembering to pack.

"Do you know what happened?" Dick asks as he bends down to inspect the chains and the eye-hook. The chains are almost a half inch in diameter and expertly wielded. The chains have bits of rust here and there, but none that would suggest breakage any time soon. The eye-hook is probably his best bet, as it's thick and heavy-duty, but clearly just screwed into the floor.

"You don't remember?" Jason scoffs, amusement in his tone. Dick grins, Jason either doesn't know or he, himself, needed some time to recall. "We were going through the Narrows before we got sniped by tranqes."

Dick brings his hand up to the bit of skin that's exposed to his neck where he immediately feels a sharp pinch of pain from what's definitely irritated skin thanks to a barbed dart being yanked out from it's target.

That's right. They were sniped. It was just a simple patrol together, just for the heck of it, and next thing Dick knew he was collapsing to the ground with his body feeling floaty and far away.

He huffs. "Why can't Gotham criminals ever be normal?"

Jason snorts in response.

Dick kneels down by the eye-hook and wraps his hands around it, looking for the best grasp despite the awkward shape and angle. Once he feels like he has an okay enough grasp, he begins to turn.

It doesn't budge.

"How stuck are you?" Dick calls before trying again at the hook.

It still doesn't move as Jason answers—it must be glued in somehow. "Pretty stuck. Chair's bolted to the ground, used way too much duct-tape, took everything useful."

Dick opens his mouth to ask how likely Jason thinks he'd be able to escape on his own, but then something groans within the walls of the pit.

"The hell?" Jason murmurs.

"Uh, Hood?" Dick calls anxiously, walking over to where the noise came from. He places his hands on the wall and frowns at the distant rumblings under his fingertips.

Jason answers with a frustrated and cautious voice. "There's a TV on the wall in front of me, it just turned on."

Dick hums and looks down at the seam where the wall meets the floor. He frowns when he notices small sections of grating; thin but strong graphs of wire cover small little holes in the wall, barely three inches in diameter.

However, when he turns around, he counts about 8 of these holes.

"The quality is really bad," Jason continues, "but I think it's of you."

"What's going on?" Dick looks up and sure enough, what looks to be a small and cheap looking knockoff of a GoPro sits taped to the grating above him.

Before either he or Jason can say anything more, the almost mechanical groaning in the walls becomes louder and then Dick finds out what those little holes near his feet are for.

Water pours through each hole, immediately sloshing around his shoes. Panic and understanding shoots adrenalin through his veins, he kneels down in the water that's already around his ankles and forces one of his wingdings into the middle of the eye-hook, using it as a handle for him to better turn.

At least the water isn't cold.

"Wing?" Jason calls, and Dick grunts as the hook stays stubbornly in place. "What's going on? I can't see anything."

One of Dick's hands slips in the water and he curses, bringing his hand up to see the fabric of his gloves cut through. "They're filling it with water."

"You for real?!"

Instead of answering, Dick tries again to break the eye-hook. Nothing works, all he does is cut the skin of his palms.

He swears colorfully as he stands back up, glaring down through the water that's now to the middle of his shins and contemplates kicking the hook, however he has a feeling that all he's going to accomplish is gaining an aching foot. He looks up at the grating.

"Let's say, hypothetically, that I managed to throw a wingding at you, would you have any chances of catching it and getting out?"

Jason's silent for a beat. "Maybe. If you throw it right at me. Also I hate that you call those that."

Dick rolls his eyes and adjusts his footing, looking at the chain and trying to calculate how heavy it's going to be. He should be fine. He just needs to rise with the water to a point where he can reach the grating. Once Jason's free, he should be able to help get Dick out of this literal death trap.

He explains his plan to Jason, and while it doesn't sound as thought out as it should be, it's still all that they've got.

That water slips over his knees, up his hips, to his chest, and eventually above his shoulders.

Once it became impossible to stand any longer, Dick forced himself to begin a steady tread despite the chain around his ankle. He knows the higher the water rises, the more heavy the chain will become...

But he's strong. He's good at swimming. With the amount of times he's been tossed into various harbors, he has to be.

"Wing?" Jason calls around when Dick has risen with the water to about the halfway point. Dick's left leg already burns from the strain of the chain, but he's been doing alright so far.

"Just focus on escaping, little wing," Dick calls, kicking his unshackled leg furiously as the weight on the other drags him under for just a moment.

The water continues to rise, and soon it becomes almost unbearable to continue swimming like this. But he has to. If he doesn't, he'll sink and drown.

Eventually, just as his legs are beginning to go numb with strain, he manages to hook the tips of his fingers around the grating above him. With a shot of adrenalin, he realizes that this is it. This is his last shot. It all amounts to these last moments whether he'll manage to escape, or if this is where he dies.

It's moments like these where he never feels more alive.

He forces his hands to get a better grasp as he already holds one of his meager stash of wingdings in his grasp. He works to lift himself up into the small few feet of air above the water, but he only goes up a couple inches before he's violently stopped by a tugging on his left leg.

Dick's stomach sinks.

"Uh, Hood?" He calls, forcing the coming panic out of his voice as the water steadily rises higher. The ripples tickle his Adam's apple. "I can't- I can't get higher. You're going to have to help me aim."

"Alright," Jason says, his voice calm, which must mean Dick's unsuccessfully managed to keep his cool. "Follow my voice, I think I'm to your left."

Dick nods slightly to himself, but not too much because his chin would dip in the water that way. Working the grate like it's a set of monkey bars, Dick turns step by step until Jason tells him to stop. He keeps one hand white knuckled on the bars and then brings his other hand up as far as it can go, the wingding resting in his dripping fingers.

The shackle digs into his ankle as he tries to tug himself more upwards.

"Okay, a little to your right," Jason instructs, and Dick does as he's told. "Kay, aim up, alright?"

"Yeah," Dick gasps, his chin slapping the water. "Right."

He throws the wingding to the best of his limited abilities. He knows he misses when Jason makes a small growling noise.

"Put more power into it."

Dick can't help it. He lets out a burst of hysterical laughter. Power? He can barely move as it is, the only power that he's going to get with his hand just over the bars of the grate is going to come from his wrist.

Regardless, Dick brings his hand down and grabs another one of his weapons. He counts in a blink of an eye that he only has five.

He tries again, following Jason's instructions, and this time he gets closer to his younger brother, but it curves to the left and lands itself, apparently, into the screen of the TV. Breaking it.

"You're fine, big bird," Jason says, "you're gonna be fine. Let's just try again."

Dick can't respond. The water is brushing against his upper lip. If he could respond, he's sure he might laugh again at how hopeless this all is.

He tries again, and all he can hear is Jason saying it slid under his chair before the water completely rises above his ears. Dick's just managing to strain and keep his nose above the surface, but already if he breathes too loudly droplets will try to suck into his lungs.

He has two wingdings left. He can barely properly aim, and he can't even hear Jason all too well either.

He sucks in a breath and holds it just as the water rises over his nose.

He tries. He really tries to keep his calm and aim at Jason once again with muscle memory. He's been in deathtraps before.

Yet, the second he lifts his second to last wingding, the water stops rising right near his elbows. Just above his head.

And how cruel is that?

He doesn't know if he can risk this. If he aims and fires his last two wingdings completely blind like this and misses, then it's over.

He can hold his breath longer than most. But it doesn't matter how long he can hold his breath if he's chained down just below the surface.

Dick looks down at the shackle around his ankle, then feels the sharp wingding in his hand.

He needs to buy time. For himself… for Jason. He needs the shackle off so he can rise above the water and aim.

Before he can let fear talk him out of it, he lets go of the grating above him and allows himself to sink further into the water with the weight of the chain.

His ears are ringing and he can practically feel his pulse trying to burst from his neck, but he keeps his breath locked in his lungs and he keeps his eyes trained on his ankle.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he lets the adrenaline drive him as he plunges his own weapon into his ankle, right below the shackle.

Blood bursts from his leg like a cloud. Agony hits like a truck. But he keeps cutting, he keeps cutting because he has to. The adrenaline helps numb it a little. But it's all he can do to keep from screaming and sucking in the blood stained water as he hits the bone.

It takes a good few tugs and a few more desperate slices for him to finally feel the weight of the shackle and chain drop. Before he can allow what just happened—what he's just done—to hit him, he kicks up and forces himself to swim until he reaches the surface.

When he reaches air, he's not sure if he's coughing, sobbing, or screaming.

It hurts. It hurts. And soon enough, the water will drain him out of every single drop of his blood.

With shaking hands, he lifts himself so he's as close to the grating as possible. He has just a second to process how scared Jason looks on that chair, like he's trying to understand or process what just happened. Dick wonders if he knows what it means for Dick to be above the water. Dick wonders if Jason thought he drowned. Dick wonders if Jason saw the whole thing on the screen of a shattered TV.

Dick allows himself just a moment to mentally apologize to Jason before he gets his whole arm out of the grating and aims with perfect precision straight into the tape holding Jason's arm to the chair.

Right then, it feels like all the strength seeps out of him. He almost falls back into the water, wheezing, but he keeps his grasp strong and closes his eyes.

He's okay. He's okay. He's-

Water laps into his mouth and he can taste blood.

Now he knows it's sobs escaping through his teeth.

He holds on and forces himself to ignore the blood tasting water, ignore how weak and nauseated he's becoming. He holds on until there's a sound of a gun firing on the padlock keeping the grate down. He shifts to grab the lip of the pit as Jason lifts the grate. For a second, he slips and almost falls back into the water, but then strong hands grasp under his arms and heft him out.

Next thing he knows he's on his back in a puddle of water and blood and just trying to catch his breath.

"Holy shit, fucking- Wing? Can you hear me?"

Jason's panicking. Dick's coughing water. He's screaming water when Jason begins to wrap a torn piece of cloth from his leather jacket around his leg.

A tourniquet.

Dick writes as the agony in his left leg becomes blinding with each twist Jason makes in the cloth.

"Jason- Jason I couldn't-" Dick tries to explain, but his brain is woozy and his chest really hurts. "I didn't-"

I couldn't breathe. I didn't think. I couldn't get out. I didn't want to die.

"My leg- my leg, Jay- I can't-"

I can't breathe.

"Just hold on, you're going into shock-" Jason says, his voice so much weaker than what it normally is. "All of our stuff is in here- I already pinged B."

No. No, not B. Dick doesn't need Bruce. Dick doesn't need Alfred. Or the Batcave. Or the medbay. A few pills of advil. A pat on a shoulder.

He needs-

"Hospital," he gasps through clenched teeth as Jason bundles up his jacket and puts it under Dick's feet to elevate them.

Foot. Foot and mangled remains of his left leg.

"Jay-"

"Okay," Jason agrees, standing up and running to the other side of the room where—sure enough—all of their missing items lay.

Dick stares up at the ceiling while Jason calls for an ambulance. He listens to the shakiness to his tone and how he seems to stumble over answers he must be being asked. If Jason's this startled… it must be really bad.

Dick wants to look, but at the same time he knows he'll throw up the second he sees.

He takes a deep breath and tries to fight the armada of problems trying to assault him. The drowsiness. The confusion. The nausea. The pain. The shock.

But eventually, Jason's voice becomes a drone, and soon Dick's eyes are slipping closed.

He hears his name shouted before he falls unconscious.

When the black settles, the pain doesn't go away.

-o-o-o-o-

When Dick wakes up the first time, it's chaos. Shouting voices, a mask pressing against his face. He tries to open his eyes and figure out what's going on, but then something nudges his leg and he sees stars. He tries to crawl back to himself, but it's like he's pinned with sharp needles through butterfly wings. Before he can even try to open his eyes again through the tears, something pinches the inside of his elbow, and Dick loses himself again.

-o-o-o-o-

The second time he wakes, it's quiet. He feels like he's eaten so much honey that it has replaced his blood. His arms are heavy as he brings them to his face to rub at his blurry eyes.

As he rubs at them, he can feel the tugging of tubes running up his nose. The pull of a needle within the crook of his elbow. As he looks around, slowly realizing where he is—slowly remembering why he's here—the heart monitor picks up speed.

Of course, that's when a body he didn't notice until now shoots up like they have been trying and failing to catch some shut eye.

"Bruce," Dick calls weakly as Bruce zeros in on him. Dick's throat hurts. Everything hurts. He can't feel anything below his knee.

Thankfully, as he weakly holds his arms out, Bruce gets the message. Before Dick knows it, he's being gathered into Bruce's arms so he's sitting up and clutching to Bruce like his wrinkled suit jacket is his lifeline.

"How bad is it?" Dick asks with wobbling lips and a wobbling voice.

Bruce stills, then his arms tighten around Dick, and that's when Dick knows it's bad. A sob tears through his throat and he closes his eyes, pressing against Bruce. He wants to crawl away and not exist. He wants Bruce to make everything okay again.

He doesn't want to open his eyes to look. So he keeps them closed and allows his tears to stain Bruce's tie.

"They…" Bruce starts, sounding terribly unsure, "you were in bad shape. Shock. Infection already setting in. You lost a lot of blood... They couldn't save anything below the knee."

Dick wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all. He knows he was panicking back there, but he also purposely cut at his ankle to… to save his leg.

He lost it anyway. He wants to laugh. Instead he sobs harder.

Bruce tries to reassure him with the hopes the doctors have for a prosthetic, tries to explain he already has Lucius Fox on making one fit for Nightwing, but Dick can only cry and weep and mourn until eventually, he's practically boneless. He can barely keep his eyes open as Bruce lays him back down and tells him to get some more rest.

"Sleep, Chum, everything will get better."

Dick can't find it in himself to believe him. He sleeps anyway, if not to just pretend his entire life isn't over.

#dick grayson #jason todd #nightwing #red hood #badthingshappenbingo #dc comics #batman comics #fanfiction #jin writes #kidnapping tw #permanent injury tw #amputation tw #blood tw #injury tw

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holylulusworld · 4 years ago

Note

Congratulations on 8000 followers. For your celebration drabble request, I suggest: Dean X Y/N quarantined from a witch's spell. I'll leave it up to you if you want fluff, angst, smut. You get the idea. This prompt is starting to give me ideas.

F*cking Witches

8000 Followers Drabbles Masterlist

Prompt: None provided so I chose one. “Fucking witches!”

Warnings: language, angst, fun, fluff, cocky Dean, being quarantined due to an odd spell, Dean being a tease, tension, implied smut

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester

Word count: 1223 (it got a bit longer)

“Fucking witches” Dean growls struggling against his brother's strength. “I can beat her! Let me just...” Sam pushes his brother into the bunker, almost causing Dean to fall down the stairs.

“Wait! Let us help!” Squeaking you end up pushed into Dean’s arms before the heavy door of the bunker locks behind you. “Hey! You can’t just lock us in!”

“We need to get out of here, Y/N! I will not survive for two weeks in this cage! I am not a good roommate while being a caged animal, sweetheart.” Dean pants heavily, not liking the idea of being locked in again.

“Dean, what if Rowena is right? What if we are toxic?” The hunter blinks a few times before he pokes your shoulder. “DEAN!”

“There, I am still alive. Cursed to kill my ass!” Eyes narrowed you poke Dean’s cheek only to giggle lightly at his pissed expression.

“Maybe we are only toxic to other people?” Not liking the idea Dean nods. “I’ll check on the lore. I bet I can find a way to get us out of here, Dean. I don’t want to be stuck with you either.”

“Hey, I am an awesome and great roommate,” Dean smirks, giving you one of his charming smiles followed by a wink. “Just push the right buttons, sweetheart.”

“I will not push anything, Winchester. Now, let's make a plan...”

Day 1

You gave up on reading more books last night. Sam said they are getting closer to solving the case. Hopefully, Rowena can reverse the spell and free the grumpy hunter and you.

“I am bored,” Dean whines while you make a list of your supplies. “Play with me…”

“Dude, I am not going to play any games with you. I have to check on the supplies or do you want to starve for the next two weeks?”

“Starve?” Suddenly interested in whatever you started, Dean dips his head to glance at the list your prepared.

“We’ve got three six-packs of beer, which means you’ll only drink one bottle per day from now on. Good thing I hate that crap.” Dean gulps hard, glancing at your list.

“We’ve got enough water, though. Let’s check. Sam bought enough food for three weeks but, we need to prevent food craving attacks, Dean. No midnight snack for you, big boy.” Grinning you pat Dean’s belly.

“As if you never ate anything in the middle of the night. Damn, I am hungry now…”

Day 3

“Can I not have one more beer and a slice of pie?” Dean whines, looking at you with big eyes, imitating his brother's puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

“Dean, if you drink more beer today, there will be nothing left at the end of the week. You have to choose…”

“I’ll choose to have one more tonight. Snacks are out soon…”

Day 5

“Hmm…that’s a nice outfit, sweetheart. How do you call it?” Watching you walk around in hello kitty sweatpants and a crop top Dean ogles you shamelessly. “I bet; you’d like to lose it…”

“Winchester, I am warning you.” Poking your finger into Dean’s chest you narrow your eyes. “It’s only five days, Dean. I don’t think your balls are blue…”

“Wanna check?” Dean cocks his head when you glance at his crotch.

Day 7

Another day in hell. The bunker is too cold today. Literally freezing your ass off you run around the large building to find the reason for the failure of the heating. “Damnit, Dean. Where is the heat gone?”

Dean smirks, stepping closer to open his coat. “Could warm you up, Y/N.” Debating to take Dean’s offer or to freeze to death you nod, letting Dean wrap you in his coat.

Head resting against his chest, you try to warm up. “I know a way to get you all hot and bothered, sweetheart.”

“Dean, what the fuck!” His swelling dick presses against your thigh. “That’s the problem. No fuck…”

Day 9

Crawling up the walls you try to find anything useful to do but you end up rolling around your bed, staring at the wall. “Watcha doing, sweetheart?”

“I try to bore myself to death, Dean. And you?”

“Same. You know, we could do something useful.” Dean snickers, pointing toward your bed. “Just saying.”

Your pillow ends up in his face and you groan, hoping Sam will free you soon.

Day 11

“For all that’s holy Dean, wear a fucking shirt and pants. You can’t just run around in boxers and socks!” Whining you glance at Dean’s ass when he bends over to grasp for the last beer.

“It’s unbearable hot today.” Huffing you wipe off some sweat. “I don’t know what’s wrong with the bunker. Days ago we almost froze off our asses and today I feel like getting roasted.”

“I had a shower and it was too warm. Not refreshing at all…”

Day 12

“No, no! That’s not true! They both would’ve died if she shared the door with him.” Bickering about Titanic, Jack’s death, and the door you stuff the last popcorn into your mouth.

“I believe they could’ve been saved, both.” Dean pokes your side, smirking as you pat his chest.

“Fine, Dean. If we ever end up in the middle of the ocean, freezing our asses off I’ll share the door with you.”

Day 13

“I am going to find you, sweetheart…” Dean yells through the bunker. Today you decided to play hide and seek, much to Dean’s amusement as he won all rounds so far. “There she is…”

Squeaking you try to outrun Dean, but he grasps for you, throwing you over his shoulder.

“I want my prize now, sweetheart. No chicken out. I am going to lay claim on this cute ass.”

Day 16

The bedframe slams into the wall one last time.

Dean barely can roll off your body, not after non-stop fucking for three days.

“That was awesome, but I need a break.”

“Same, Dean.” Laughing you pat his head. “I mean, at least we released the tension. It was overdue we fucked.”

“You know, this means your ass is mine. No discussion.” Nodding you close your eyes to calm your racing heart. “Did Sammy call? It’s fifteen days today.”

“Sixteen, Dean…”

“Son of a bitch!”

Day 21

“What the fuck, Sammy! What took you so long?” Cocking his head Dean glares at his brother.

“Three weeks, brother. You left us roast in this hell for three weeks while we had nothing else to do than…”

Sam’s eyes wander from you, wearing his brother’s plaid, to the hickey at Dean’s neck, back toward the handcuffs around your wrist Dean forgot to remove hearing the door of the bunker open.

“I think we are all happy Dean and I can leave the bunker again. Thanks to all of you, but Dean and I got a business to do. He owes me something and I want it now…”

Grabbing Dean’s hand you drag him toward his bedroom. “I want that orgasm, even if it kills us…”

“What the…?” Sam swallows thickly watching you ogle his brother shamelessly.

“Yeah, we ganked the witch, reversed the spell, got captured by a coven and almost tortured but it’s great you two found the time to…connect…”

“Fucking witches Sammy…” Dean snickers running off with you.

SPN Forever Tags

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A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

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

#dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester x reader #implied smut #dean x reader #dean x you #8000 followers #8000 Follower’s Celebration #8000 followers celebration #8000 followers drabble prompts masterlist

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

Note

Jercy-fluff : 9th and 14th?

Hi Anon, thanks for the ask i lovvveeeeddd it! i decided to do a third and final part to the bakery AU

Masterlist

Part I, Part II

Prompt 9: Are we on a date right now?

Prompt 14: They’re so cute when they sleep.

Percy was looking forward to the afternoon and the delights it would bring. He had taken the afternoon off work, much to his assistant’s surprise. It was a rare day when he escaped work for himself. Rachel had gone so far as to check his temperature in case he had a fever and upon discovering he was fine muttered something about hell freezing over. He had stuck his tongue out at her and disappeared into his office. Now he sat at his desk unfocused on the many tasks in front of him, daydreaming about a certain blonde-haired blue-eyed baker he’d be seeing later. Three weeks after the Gala Percy had finally managed to get some time free to take Jason up on his offer to teach Estelle how to bake… something? When they discussed it over the phone a few days ago he had gotten momentarily distracted by the rasp in Jason’s voice and missed a good chunk of their conversation. It would have concerned him if he wasn’t so excited to just be in the blonde’s presence again.

“Percy,” Rachel knocked at the door, pulling him out of his daydreams.

“Did you sign the docs I need for the lawyers?”

“Uh, when did you give those to me?” He shuffled the various files littering his desk, before looking up at her with a pink-cheeked shrug.

“I don’t even know why you bothered to come in today if you’re just gonna sit here and live in your imagination.” She shook her head, green eyes dancing with mirth.

“Shut up,” He grumbled, “I’m totally working. See.” He handed her the file he finally found, “All done.”

“Mhmm,” She raised a brow before going back to her office.

The morning passed by in much the same manner, him with his feet on the desk and a dazed look in his eyes and his assistant popping in every now and then to get something. Finally, at one pm she knocked on his door,

“Hey loverboy you can go.”

He jolted out of his chair grabbing his things with careless haste and hugged his red-headed friend before bolting out the building. He could hear her laugh all the way down to the parking bay. The drive to Estelle’s school was spent in restless excitement, foot tapping against the carpet and head bobbing to whatever was playing on the radio.

“Hello Percy!” His little sister squealed, clamboring into the back seat.

“Hello Seashell,” He turned around to give her a high-five, “How was school?”

“Today Miss Beauregard taught us about birthstones and she brought in little copies of everyone’s and we got to compare them. It was so cool!”

“Oh,” He smiled at his rearview mirror, where she was bouncing in her seat, “And what is your birthsone?”

Her smile was bright and unrestrained, “Aquamarine!”

“Oh wow,” He couldn’t help but grin at her excitement, “That sounds like the most beautiful stone in the world. I’m not surprised it’s all yours.”

“It’s not all mine loser,” She scrunched her nose, “Everyone born in March has that birthstone.”

“But you were the best person born in March so it must be yours.”

She frowned, and then shook her head, “I want to share it with everyone.”

“Then everyone’s it shall be,” He laughed, continually amazed at her compassion.

“Percy,” She looked at him, “Do you want to know your birthstone?”

Of course Seashell, hit me with it.”

“Yours is peri–“ Her face pulled into one of concentration as she stumbled over the word, “Peri– pe-ri-dot.”

“And what colour is that?”

“Green! Like your eyes.”

“I like it!” He beamed, and made a mental note to see if he could get matching bracelets for them with their birthstones in. His sister would love that.

“Where are we going?” Her pigtailed head smashed against the window as she attempted to gauge their surroundings.

“I have a surprise,”

“What? What is it?” She gasped.

“How do you feel about going to Ambrosia Bakery to learn how to bake something?”

“Mr Jason’s bakery?” Her blue eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“Yes ma’am.”

Her shriek was enough to make him slam the brakes on the car but when he saw the glowing delight on her face he couldn’t even be mad about his poor brake pads.

“So you’re happy to go then?”

“YES!” She grinned, and the front tooth she was missing made him laugh.

The arrived minutes later upon which Estelle dragged him by the hand into the bakery, her excitement bubbling out of her.

“Hey!” A husky voice called, “There’s my favourite customers.”

“Mr Jason!” She giggled, slamming into the man’s legs.

“Hello little one,” He picked her up effortlessly, “Are you ready for today?”

She nodded vigorously, “What are we making?”

“How about those pastry twists I sent you a couple weeks ago?”

With a gasp the little girl flung her arms around his neck and squeezed.

“Why don’t you go in the kitchen and ask Hazel to help wash your hands.” He put her down, pointing to a door behind the counter, “And tell her what flavours you want in the pastry so she can take it out of the fridge.”

With bright eyes she raced across the room and disappeared.

“Hello,” Percy said.

“Hey,” Jason hummed, “She’s certainly got some energy.”

“It’s all the baked goods you give her,” He teased, “She’s on a permanent sugar high.”

“I’m willing to take the responsibility,” He laughed, “Are you staying?”

Percy’s eyes softened as he took in the man before him: flour prints on his cheeks and a bright blue apron tied around his waist.

“I think you’ll have a hard time getting rid of me.”

Jason’s blue eyes sparked as he took in the double meaning, “Shall we?”

Right on time a little head popped over the counter, “I’m ready Mr Jason.”

“Alright,” He smiled his perfect white teeth at her.

Moments later decked in various brightly coloured apron’s and hands thoroughly washed all three of them stood in front of a silver counter with an array of things before them. Hazel had gone to man the register and the gods only know where Piper and Leo were, probably on a lunch break.

“Okay,” Jason looked between them, “First we have to roll the pastry out, so here’s a rolling pin for you, and you,” Estelle giggled at her little one, mumbling a thank you as she stared in fascination.

“Now, you’re just going to do a firm but not hard back and forth motion over the dough, just like this.”

They started slowly, Jason adjusting their hands every few minutes. Percy didn’t miss the lingering holds and unsubtle brushes as they worked. His sister on the other-hand was enraptured with her task and bubbled endlessly about things as she rolled.

“What flavours did you go for Little One?”

“Blueberry, strawberry and mango because that’s my favourite fruit in the whole world!”

The blonde gave an exaggerated gasp and whispered, “Mine too.”

“Percy,” Estelle whipped her to look at him, “Why haven’t you brought me to this bakery before this. I could have been eating mangoes with Mr Jason instead of watching you be grumpy at me for messing in your car.”

He could see Jason fighting off a laugh, “Yea Percy why haven’t you brought her before this?”

“Uh…” He scratched the back of his neck looking between the two blue-eyed cuties looking at him questioningly.

He was saved from further scrutiny by the microwave timer indicating the jam-fillings were done.

“Alright Little One, if we can get some jam into all the pastries you can lick the remainder how does that sound?”

Percy groaned at the same time Estelle squealed, “YES PLEASE!”

The baker laughed and proceeded to guide her in filling the strips of pastry. Percy watched as Jason gently spooned the jam onto the dough and mumbled something to his sister which made her giggle. They had formed some sort of kinship and it was heart-warming to see. Any person who can get along with her is already a favourite on his list. And it the blonde was fast reaching the top without that boost. A little blueberry jam spilled onto the counter and Estelle laughed as Jason scooped it up and swiped it over her nose. She tried to get him back, but he dodged out of the way with a triumphant grin.

Finally the twists were done and ready for the oven and Estelle happily took her bowls fill of jam and the spoon she was offered and dug right in.

“She’s going to get a sugar high you know, that right?”

His smile was cheeky, “But I won’t be the one dealing with it when she does.”

Percy frowned, “Oh you are a rascal! I can’t believe you set me up. See if I ever go on another date with you.”

“Are we on a date right now? As far as I know this is my date with you sister.”

“Well that’s the only sibling you’re getting a date with because I am mostly certainly going to die trying to get her to calm down.”

The laugh that answered him was beautiful and sweet.

“Take your amusement BakerMan because soon it will be me laughing,”

“What do you mean?”

He merely winked and then lifted his hand and pressed it against a golden cheek.

“There’s flour on that hand isn’t there?”

“Yep,” He beamed, “Whatcha gonna do about it Grace?”

The blonde hummed, pretending to think when suddenly there was a loud crack on his black curls and the gooey coldness fell down his face. Percy blinked, blinked again.

“Did you just smash an egg on my head?”

He was greeted to a dazzling smile.

“Oh it’s on BakerMan!”

“Bring it OceanBoy!”

And then all manner of baking ingredients were being thrown around. Estelle, who was just coming into her sugar rush burst into peals of laughter and started chucking globs of jam at them. It was sticky and messy and tasted delicious. The three of them raced around the kitchen; eggs, flour and colourful goo flying across the room. It was a culinary chaos and the grin’s on their faces and twinkle in their eyes made it all worth it.

When all the ingredients they could possibly use were on the floor, against the walls and all over the counter they all collapsed on the crates in one corner.

“Wow,” Percy tried to get his breath back, “Who knew food fights could be so tiring.”

“I’m not tired Percy,” Estelle giggled, ‘I have so much energy. All those jams were so good and I had so much of it and I can feel the sugaaaarrrrrrrrr!”

They looked on in amusement as the little girl proceeded to skip around the messy room, do so many twirls she got dizzy and then collapse on the floor. The rush ended as quickly as it began.

“Gods I’m sure I was a hundred times worse when I was younger,” Jason winced.

“Me too,” Percy groaned, “My mom spent hours trying tp get me out of the bath because I’d be a pirate taking over the seas and I couldn’t be disturbed until my mission was complete.”

“That,” The blonde snorted, “Is absolutely adorable.”

A yawn escaped Percy before he could cover it up, “And now it takes about point three seconds for me to shower and get into bed,”

“Here, here,” Jason hummed tiredly.

Before they knew it, their eyes were drifting shut and they were following Estelle into dreamland,

“They’re so cute when they’re asleep.” Someone very far away whispered.

Percy grumbled blinking awake, hissing at the harsh lights above him. “What’s going on?”

He tried to move but a hand draped over his torso held him firmly in place.

“Seems you two had a little nap,” That voice was still too far away.

“What do you mean?” He mumbled, wiping drool off his chin.

The person finally came into focus. Brown eyes and browner curls hovered over him.

“Good afternoon sleepyhead.”

“What happened?”

“Seems you and the boss destroyed the kitchen and then fell asleep.”

“Oh,” Was his eloquent reply.

Jason jerked awake, falling off the crate they were perched on.

“Fuck.” He rasped.

“Good one Boss. Maybe you should put a bed in here for future naps?”

“Shut up Valdez. Did you take thr pastries out of the oven?”

“Pastries? In the oven?” Leo’s eyes widened almost comically.

With another string of curse words the blonde scrambled up and dived for the ovens, pulling them open with enough force to rattle the door.

“Son of a–“

“Nah uh Boss we have a child in the room.”

“Why are you like this Leo?”

Percy who couldn’t help but laugh, high-fived the mischievous man.

“Both of you are fired.” Jason slumped against the empty, and now cold oven.

“Sure Boss,” A cheeky grin.

“I don’t even work for you.”

“Well if you did you’d be fired.’

“Duly noted.” He snorted, “So I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Those blue eyes crackled with confusion.

“For our date?”

“We have a date?”

“Well if I can’t be your employee I figured I’d at least try to be your boyfriend?”

Leo burst out laughing and escaped the kitchen.

Jason went bright red but nodded.

So Percy picked up his still sleeping sister off the floor, thanked the baker for the day and the lesson and made his way home.

And have no doubt, a few dates later his application for boyfriend got accepted.

#bakery au #jercy #jason grace #percy jackson #jason #grace #percy #jackson #PJSSG fanfic #PJSSG asks #PJSSG series #ciara's convos #she speaks #baby fanfic #baby fanfic series #anon requests #fanfic request #not edited

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let-me-love-you-loki · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome to Oblivion-Ch. 30

Chapter 30

“So… do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?” I asked, snuggling deeper into one of Roman’s sweatshirts. I’d brought my own clothes when I came to stay with them over break, but it seemed like I spent more time in their stuff than my own. And I certainly wasn’t complaining. It was nice being bundled up in warm, soft fabric that smelled like them.

Seth sat in the armchair nearby, his attention focused on the videogame he was playing. He shrugged. “It was bad enough driving back from Davenport after Christmas. I doubt I’m going anywhere.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on, you’re seeing Becky, right?”

He went a little pink around his ears. “Yeah, kind of.”

“Seth… come on…” I said, sitting up and moving to the end of the sofa closest to him. I poked him in the shoulder and the arm and the cheeks. “Come on… Seffie… tell me the truth.”

He jerked away. “Knock it off, Addy,” he replied, trying to hide his smile. He leaned toward the other side of the chair, doing his best to focus on the television.

I followed, scooting to the very edge of the sofa cushion, and renewing my assault with both fingers.

Poke poke poke in the bicep. “Tell me…”

Poke poke poke in the shoulder. “Tell meee….”

Poke poke poke in the thigh. “C’mon, tellllll meeee…”

He grunted and tried to move. I stood up and climbed over the side of the armchair, practically sitting on his back. I nearly cackled as I took up poke poke poking him in the cheeks. Every move was emphasized with an increasingly whiny, “Tell me!”

“Addy, stop,” he grunted, swatting ineffectually at my hands. “Seriously, you’re going to make me lose, Ads!”

I leaned in against his shoulders, dangling my arms down and poking him over and over again in the stomach. “Abs, abs, abs,” I chanted childishly.

Seth swore and tossed the controller on the table. Then, in one quick move, he got to his feet and swept me around so that he carried me over his shoulder. I had just enough time to squeal and grab for the back of his t-shirt before he flopped me onto the sofa. He stood over me, frowning, arms crossed. His dark hair was a little mussed.

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” he asked as he took a step back. “Addy, are you drunk?”

I shook my head, hiding behind hands that were swallowed up by the big sleeves of the sweatshirt. “Nope.”

He leaned down, put one hand on each side of my head, and looked at me carefully. After a few seconds, he made a face and I giggled. “Then why in the hell are you…” It dawned on him so quickly that I could almost see the lightbulb go off over his head. “Addy, did you get into the leftovers in the kitchen?”

I practically bounced up onto my knees. “Ro said I could have some!”

“Yes, but what did you have?” Seth frowned.

“Some of those dumpling things and the sweet buns.” I frowned back. “What’s the matter, did I eat your part?”

He laughed. “No. I don’t ever eat when Roman makes kopai and panipopo.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but the door swinging open stopped him.

A blast of cold air ran through the room as Dean came in, stomping snow from his boots. He grinned when he saw me, his blue eyes going as bright as the pink in his cheeks. “Hey, princess,” he said as he crossed the room.

When he wrapped his arms around me, I was swallowed by the scent of the crisp snowy air and the faint scent of engine oil and grease. “Seth’s mad at me,” I said, trying not to pout.

Dean’s eyes went wide. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled sideways. “Why the hell would Seth be mad at you, princess?”

Seth rolled his eyes. “I’m not mad at her, Dean. She got into Ro’s leftovers.”

The laughter that spilled out of Dean made me warm and tingly inside. He cradled my cheeks and looked me in the eyes, just as Seth had done. “Go see how much is left.”

Seth disappeared, and I wriggled out of Dean’s hold to follow our friend’s progress. A moment later, he reappeared holding two very large, very empty Tupperware containers. “Um… none of it.”

Dean sank down on the edge of the table, laughing so hard I didn’t think he was going to be able to catch his breath. “Oh fuck, Addy,” he chuckled, wiping his face with both hands. “You just ate in an afternoon what Roman eats in a week of carb loading.”

“Huh?” I asked, my brain feeling fuzzy.

Seth flopped into the armchair and laughed. “It means you’ve got a massive sugar high. Like… those are the two sweetest, most sugary Samoan foods Ro makes. I swear there’s half a bag of sugar between the two.”

For the first time, I realized how quickly my heart was racing. “What?”

Dean put one hand on my forehead, a deep worry bleeding onto his face. “Addison?” The fact that he called me by my full name worried me. “Are you diabetic?”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head furiously. I panicked. “I don’t think I am. I’m not? I don’t think so. What if I am? Dean, what if I am?!”

He kissed the side of my head. “I think you’d know by now if you were. Seth is going to get you some water, and I’m going to tuck you un bed.”

“I’m not tired. Not at all. Not even a little bit.”

“You will be in about half an hour,” Seth called from the kitchen over the sound of the faucet. “This is going to be the worst sugar crash in the history of the planet.”

My eyes went wide, and if felt like my heart was going to explode straight out of my chest. Dean gathered me close. “Stop it, Seth. You’re scaring her.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head before leading me toward his bedroom. He tossed his jacket over the back of his desk chair and changed out of his jeans into a pair of sweatpants. Then, he flopped onto the bed, tugging me down with him. He bundled us together the blankets and wrapped his arms around me.

“What are we going to do with you, Addy?” he teased.

I squirmed, feeling like I couldn’t lie still. “I’m sorry. I got hungry and it was so good.”

“Don’t be sorry, princess. The first time I had Roman’s kopai—those dumplings in caramel sauce—I made myself sick from eating so much,” Dean whispered. “It takes some massive willpower to not devour the whole pan.”

Dean kept his arms wrapped around me, clutching me almost painfully tight against his chest. The whirring in my brain subsided and the pounding of my heart calmed to normal. He ran his fingers through my hair and cuddled my head against his shoulder.

After a while, I yawned. In an instant, my whole body felt heavy. Lethargy washed over me like a flood.

“There it is,” Dean murmured from far away. “You’re going to be grumpy when you wake up. But sleep it off for now, princess.”

***

It was dark when I woke up. I was alone in the bed, and the thought of getting up made me want to cry. Voices filtered in from the living room. I heard the tinkle of glasses and bottles.

My mouth was cotton dry.

As much as I hated it, I rolled out of bed. It took me a minute to get my balance before I practically stumbled out into the hallway. The three of them were sitting spread out in the living room. Dean had a bottle of beer in one hand and an automotive catalog in the other. Roman was stretched out on the sofa with a well-worn paperback. Seth sat on the floor, his attention glued to the television and the controller in his hands.

He was the first one to look up as I shuffled into the light. “She lives!” Seth exclaimed.

I growled and flipped him off as I trudged into the kitchen.

He laughed in that cackling way of his. I chugged down two full glasses of water before I felt human enough to join them. Roman sat up so I could wedge myself in next to him. His brown eyes skimmed over me, a smile spilling over his face.

“Feel better, baby girl?” he asked softly. His fingers brushed against the hair at my temple. “Don’t have a headache, do you?”

“I’m okay,” I replied, leaning my head against his shoulder. I stretched out so that my foot was wedged against Seth’s back, right between his shoulder blades. “By the way, it’s Jason Todd.”

Seth’s brows furrowed. “Huh?”

“The Arkham Knight. It’s Jason Todd.”

He looked from me to the television and back again. “What. The. Fuck, Addy!” He practically slammed the controller onto the table.

“If you haven’t figured it out by halfway through, you’re an idiot,” I snarked.

“Well,” Dean said, looking up from his magazine, “it’s Seth, so…”

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it @vebner37 @lilred91 @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @maelleoute @missjenniferb

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vanillacoffee-bean · 5 years ago

Text

Daminette December - Day 1: Just a Friend

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything (whether I share it with anyone or not), and I think posting my stuff will help get me into the habit of writing more.

I know Daminette December is more focused on the romantic relationship between Marinette and Damian, but in this one-shot they have a completely platonic relationship. This is fluff without any relationship development, I’ll have more of that for the other prompts. I love this ship so fucking much! Please let me know what you think.

I also couldn’t resist giving Marinette a coffee addiction like mine :)

Warning: contains swearing

@daminette-december2019

===============

The click of a door locking could be heard through the halls as Marinette walked towards the exit. She was in Gotham, more specifically she was leaving the dorm house to start her day at Gotham University. Marinette was around 21 years old and had a round face, pale skin and bright blue eyes. Her shoulder length hair was currently left down in soft waves.

“Come on, Marinette!” Her roommate, Hazel, called out. Hazel looked to also be around 21 with olive-toned skin, amber eyes and long brown hair that was in a side french braid.

“It’s too early! Class doesn’t start for another half hour! Let me grab some coffee! There’s a café a few blocks away. Hazel, I know you want to see your girlfriend, but can you let go?” Marinette asked dramatically as Hazel lead, more like dragged, her through the school. The two sat down at one of the benches in the hallway. Marinette took out her sketchbook and started drawing.

A few minutes passed with Marinette and Hazel talking about their plans for winter break before debating on why coffee is important. “But Hazel! I can’t live without coffee!”

“Then it’s a good thing I brought you some.” A voice said, coming from in front of the two girls. Marinette knew who it was without having to look up.

“Damian!” Marinette smiled, closing her sketch book and putting it back in her bag.

“You need to stop drinking so much coffee, Angel. You’re starting to remind me of my brother. He can’t go a day without it.” He said. Marinette simply huffed in response.

“I’ll see you after classes, Marinette!” Hazel called out before she ran over to her girlfriend.

“It’s black, just the way you like it.” Damian said, sitting down next to her and handing her a thermos.

“Black like my soul.” She replied, taking a sip. She let out a satisfied hum as the coffee’s warmth spread through her body.

“Hey! Leave the dark depressing stuff to me! You already have your puns!” The reason why Marinette loved puns so much was because they reminded her of Chat Noir from when they fought together against Hawkmoth in Paris. She found that the puns kept him closer to her.

He died in the final battle. That was also when she discovered that he was also her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.

After she returned her earrings to The Guardian of the Miraculous, she left Paris, unable to deal with the constant reminders of each and every fight. She and her parents had a bit of a falling out when she asked to move to Gotham, but they supported her none the less. That was about 3-4 years ago.

Now she was in the middle of her third year at Gotham University, studying for a degree in business and doing an online fashion design course. She worked in a small café after school and all-day on Saturday, and had found new friends, created new memories with the hope that one day all of these new positive experiences would cancel out the negatives. She’s learned how to mask her pain and has hidden her grief deep within her.

She still had nightmares of course, almost every night. Everybody does. But that doesn’t make seeing one of your best friends die over and over again any easier.

“You can’t fool me Dames. Behind your cold and hard and rude and arrogant—”

“I get it, Angel! I’m not the easiest person to get along with!” Damian interrupted.

“—and pushy exterior, I know you like me a latte.” They sat in silence for a few seconds.

“That was so bad.” He said.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Marinette completely agreed.

“You normally do so much better.”

“I do, don’t I?” The two immediately started laughing.

“Oh. My. God.” A man a few steps away from them said, “Holy shi—Alfred was right!” He was tall and well-built with black hair that had a white streak through it. Surprise was evident in his blue eyes.

Damian took a deep breath in, closing his eyes while doing so, before opening them and turning towards the man. “You should already know that Alfred is always right. Always. What are you doing here, Todd?” The hostility was clear in Damian’s tone.

“I overheard Alfred talking to Bruce about inviting your friend over. The friend that you’ve told us, your brothers, nothing about, and yet told Bruce and Alfred everything about.” He explained. Damian raised an eyebrow, letting him continue. “So, I volunteered to come over and invite her to the manor for dinner this Friday.”

“Sure. That’s sounds nice. Anything specific that I should wear?” Marinette asked. Damian stared in horror at his brother.

“No! You shouldn’t go!” Damian protested but was ignored.

“Nothing too fancy or too casual and you should be fine miss…?” He paused.

“Marinette.” She said.

“Okay, Marinette. I’m Jason, but Demon Spawn over here refuses to call me anything but ‘Todd.’ It looks like class is about to start. See you in a few days!” Jason called out as he left the building. The bell rung and the two young adults headed to the first class of the day.

“She got him to laugh, Bruce! That’s not fucking normal! And the way he looks at her! It’s like she’s his whole god damn world! And she looks at him the same!”

“Wait! Baby Bird has a girlfriend? Like, an actual girlfriend?”

“It appears so, but it’s also highly possible that he hasn’t asked her out yet due to the fact that he’s probably not used to feeling love. Has anyone seen my coffee mug?”

“Holy shit! That poor soul… And Timmy? You need to stop drinking so much coffee! It’s not good for you.”

“I don’t drink too much coffee!”

“I know right! She’s too pure and innocent to be corrupted by him! But you should have seen it, Dick! Marinette has somehow gotten him to act his fucking age! It must be magic. That’s the only possible explanation. Or the world’s ending.”

“Jason, is she coming next week?”

“Yes, Bruce, but that’s not of any damn importance right now. We first need to fucking figure out what hell has happened to Demon Spawn! I’m betting a hundred dollars they’ll be dating in the next two weeks.”

“Two hundred they’re already dating!”

“One fifty they get together before Valentine’s Day!”

‘God, why did the dinner have to be today? Why couldn’t it have been next week!’ Damian thought as he stepped out of the car with Marinette. She was wearing black tights, a pastel pink skirt, a white turtle neck sweater, and black converse. Her hair was curled and in a half updo.

Alfred opened the door smiling. “Welcome Miss Marinette, Master Damian. I am Alfred, the butler.”

“We all know your family Alfred.” Drake said, walking into the hall. He reached out his hand in front of Marinette saying, “I’m Tim.”

“Marinette. Pleasure to meet you.” She said as she shook his hand, briefly letting go of Damian’s hand before reconnecting them. Unfortunately for Damian, this gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Tim.

Suddenly a squeal was heard echoing as Grayson ran up to them. “You’re a literal angel, Marinette! How is that possible when you’re with Mr. Grumpy over here?” Grayson exclaimed as he pointed to Damian, who openly glared at him. “Oh! I’m Dick!”

“Nice to meet you.” Marinette replied.

“Come. Dinner is served.” Alfred said.

“So, Marinette, what’s it like to be dating a demon?” Jason said as the family started to eat dessert. Unlike what they expected, Marinette just burst out laughing while Damian was clearly trying to suppress his laugher.

“You think we’re dating?” Marinette asked after she got her breathing under control.

“Yes?” Dick, Jason, Tim, and Bruce all answered at the same time. This was when Damian started laughing. Everyone was frozen in shock at the sound.

“You got it all wrong. Damian and I are just friends.” Marinette explained.

“Strictly platonic.” Damian added. “Dating? Us? What gave you that stupid idea?” They both started laughing again.

Alfred quietly muttered “For now...”

#daminette #maridami #maribat #mlb x dc #daminette december

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karenninaaa · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 5 - The Clash of the Dead and the Living

Read it on ffn

V - WILL

Having a death angel as your visitor in your apartment was nice. Will had decided.

Even though Nico ate like a glutton, it was still nice.

So death angels did eat normal food.

They also sleep.

Will remembered how Nico glared at him when he voiced out his amusement about the death angel's sleeping and eating.

'Solace, I hope you are not mistaking us for vampires. We are immortals at some point but our bodies also need nutrients and sleep.'

Will couldn't help but grin at his thoughts. He felt a combination of surprise and amusement when the wind blew a different way and Nico had suddenly decided to crash at his apartment like he was an old friend. He always had this fleeting thought that Nico was always out of reach, well for the obvious reason that the death angel hated the Hades out of him. Will barely knew the guy and then suddenly yesterday, he learned and realized that regardless of Nico's status as a death angel, he could be so… human.

Now, Will was curious, there seemed to be a lot of things needed to be discovered about Nico. It wasn't like Will hadn't been paying attention to the guy before. In fact, out of all death angels that Will encountered before, Nico was the only one who was interacting with him most of the time. So it felt like Nico was not a total stranger to him. Still, he only knew a little almost to none about the death angel. And Will had this urge to know more about the guy.

"And why are we smiling like an idiot, Dr. Solace." Kayla put down her can of soda on the table where Will was currently lounging. She sat across Will. They were both in the cafeteria of the hospital in the middle of the night.

"There are a lot of things we need to smile about, Dr. Knowles. It was summer, we heal people, and it was a nice night." Will waved his hand dramatically. No one knew the existence of Nico di Angelo, except for him. As if he could go telling people 'hey, a death angel visited me, how nice' or 'a bunch of death angels wanted to shred me to ribbons. Scary' Heck, no one even knew that he can see death angels and he had this glowing trick.

"You cannot fool me, William, you have the same idiotic smile when your ex-boyfriend Dr. Lee Fletcher asked you out, or when you are crushing with our neurologist, Dr. Tim Alistair. I know your anatomy from inside out." Kayla stated and started to sip on her soda.

Will stared at her and then blinked. It wasn't like he wasn't open about his homosexuality; in fact, the whole JHH already knew his sexual reference since he dated one of his male colleagues. He was proud of who he was. Though, there's this one tiny detail from Kayla's statement that made Will looked like he had swallowed a billiard ball and then his stomach suddenly felt heavy.

"I.. Do I really look like I have a crush on someone?" Will said, his mouth forming an o.

Kayla nodded giving him a side glance. She continued to sip on her soda. "Yeah, so who's the lucky guy? Does he work here?"

Will was suddenly gawking "B-but that's impossible!" Him? HAVING A CRUSH ON NICO DI ANGELO?! Will mentally listed the impossibilities of being attracted to Nico. First of all, they were ENEMIES, whose lives were complete opposite that led to the second reason that Nico was a death angel who was like existing on a different side of a universe. Third, he was always grumpy and angry that led again to the fourth reason that Nico HATED the hell out of him and that would go back to the first reason. See, their beginnings and endings always ended up with ENEMY AND HATRED. There was just no way that…

But then, there was this tiny part of his brain cells that told him the reason why he felt so drawn to the death angel and the reason why Will wanted to know more about Nico. And Will was lying to himself if he wouldn't admit that despite Nico's grumpiness and cold-heartedness, he, in his own way, looked cool, awesome, handsome and –okay point taken.

"What's wrong with you?" Kayla leaned forward and looked closely at Will who remained frozen in his seat and whose eyes were wide as a dinner plate. Then Kayla's eyes widen also. "Oh my gods! William Solace, don't tell me you've turned straight! You started to like a girl?!"

"Who likes a girl?" Lou Ellen joined and sat with them together with her boyfriend Cecil Markowitz, who was a medical technologist at JHH.

"HIM!" Kayla pointed at Will

Lou and Cecil gaped at Will.

This made Will snapped out of his senses. He shouted. "I do not!"

"Then why you looked like a fish and why were you saying it's impossible?!" Kayla countered.

Will groaned. Then he leaned his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. "It was just so impossible! How can I like him ..." He threw his hands in the air in frustration.

"And who is him?" Cecil asked.

"Hah! I knew it!" Kayla laughed triumphantly. "You are too easy to read!"

That made Will paused again. "Am I really easy to read?"

"Yeah, like an open book." Lou nodded. "Like, it only took seconds to know that you really like someone, one look at your sappy face and bam!" She clapped her hands together once for better emphasis.

"Exactly what happened earlier," Kayla smirked.

"And that will lead back to the question of who is him!" Cecil said

But Will seemed not to hear Cecil when his mind drifted to something in particular.

'You're wrong, Solace. There are still a lot of things I can't figure out about you.'

Will remembered how Nico looked at him at that moment as if there was a blaze in his eyes that Will swore he almost melted on the spot. Now, he already understood why he felt that way.

And when…

'Will you at least sit your butt down on the floor instead, Solace. You are one fall away from the underworld'

He also now understood why he felt funny when Nico seemed to care that he's one fall away in the underworld. Not that he was giving more meaning to it… It's just that, wasn't it more convenient to the death angel that there will be two souls to be escorted in the underworld just in case...

But in the end, the point was... After all this time...

Will slumped forward to the table and muttered. "I am so screwed…"

Will was sure that being attracted to an enemy much less to a death angel was trouble.

"Are you going to tell us now, who on earth is he?" Cecil asked again.

"Not a chance." Will suddenly stood up. He added mentally. Besides, it's not like you can see him when I was the only one who can.

There was a chorus of complaints from his friends.

Will just waved his hand dismissively. "I am going to do rounds on my patients. Bye." Then he turned and walked away.

"We will know who is him no matter what, Doc!" Lou shouted.

Will just shook his head as he walked out of the cafeteria. Impossible.

Will wasn't making an excuse when he said that he's going to do rounds just to get away from the grilling questions of his friends. He was really doing rounds and one of the patients he visited that night was Percy Jackson who was now looking livelier after weeks of being hospitalized.

"You are doing great now, Mr. Jackson." Will put his stethoscope back around his neck after using it on Percy. "You're breathing was now was stable. We can discharge you in a matter of days. We will just wait for your other lab test just to make sure that everything is fine."

"That's great!" Percy grinned. His wife, Annabeth, who was standing next to his husband smiled.

"Now that I am okay, can I now visit my pal, Jason Grace, you medic guys wouldn't let me no matter how I said that I was fine!" Percy said.

Will just smiled. "Not at the moment, Mr. Jackson. Remember you still have bullet wounds and we wouldn't want to strain and reopen those wounds. Don't move so much for the time being. Four bullet wounds are serious."

"That's what I was talking about," Annabeth said looking pointedly at Percy.

Percy pouted.

"But Jason Grace is fine now, right?" Annabeth asked and looked up at Will. "He was really a close friend to us and his girlfriend Piper was worried sick about him. She just couldn't fly over from Las Vegas because of some commitments."

Will briefly thought about how Kayla would react when she learned that her blondie and cute patient was already taken.

"I really couldn't say anything since he was not my patient but from what I have heard, Mr. Grace is doing better too, still weak but stable," Will answered.

The couple nodded in acknowledgment.

"Okay, that's all for tonight, take rest," Will said and Annabeth walked him out the room.

"Ah, that reminds me," Will turned to Annabeth when he was already outside the room and Annabeth was at the door "What's his reaction when you told him that-" Suddenly Annabeth covered his mouth and her eyes widen. She also went outside and immediately closed the door behind.

"I haven't told him yet," Annabeth said pulling her hand from Will's mouth.

"Why not?" Will was surprised.

Annabeth sighed. "Knowing my husband, he'll over-react, in a good way of course. He might probably faint or jumped like a kangaroo or run around the hospital in delight. We don't want to strain his wounds right?"

Will laughed. "Right. So when are you planning on telling him?"

Annabeth smiled. "Probably right after his discharge. That will be also his early birthday gift since he's celebrating it in a month."

"How about your morning sickness, didn't he notice?" Will inquired.

"He's asleep most of the mornings, so he didn't really notice. He can be dumb at times." Annabeth rolled her eyes.

The doctor shook his head in amusement. "All right. Congratulations again to both of you."

"Thank you doc." Annabeth continued to smile.

Will patted her shoulder and walked away.

He turned to a corner and in a flash, he recognized someone walking towards the other direction, not from afar. He immediately stepped back and leaned on the wall to hide. He slowly peeked from his hiding spot. Surely, Nico di Angelo was walking from a distance then he was out of sight.

Will sighed and started hitting his head when he realized how stupid he reacted. Why in Hades was he hiding now from death boy, as if he committed some heinous crime? After realizing that he liked the guy, he couldn't just run away from his feelings or to him.

"I'm going to be really glad if you're hitting yourself because you'd turned into some kind of lunatic and you will be carted off to a mental institution."

Will stopped hitting himself and turned to see Bianca di Angelo who was crossing her arms and looking weirdly at him.

Will put down his hand. "Sorry to disappoint you, still sane to annoy the hell out of you."

In all honesty, Will was annoyed too, he still remembered the insult that the death angel fired at him. He never saw her again ever since that time until now.

"And that brings me to something I badly wanted to tell you from the time you insulted me," Will said and fully faced her.

"Let me tell you this, Bianca. I don't care if I became a doctor because of my special power or mere wits. But all I know is I became I doctor because of my dedication to saving a life. I do trust what I can do and I am intending to use it for the greater good no matter how much I pissed the hell out of you. No amount of insults will pull me down." Will said and started to walk past the unfazed death angel.

They were standing shoulder to shoulder when Bianca spoke. "At least, leave my brother alone."

Will stiffened but immediately composed himself. He did not speak.

"My brother was giving you an unhealthy amount of attention. You two are different, always remember that. He does not belong here in your world." Bianca said.

"You do not control my life Bianca, and it's not your business whoever I interact with," Will said, looking ahead.

"It became my business because he's my brother." Bianca hissed, slightly turning to him.

"Then it's not my problem anymore, it's his." With that, Will walked away.

Actually, it's kind of my problem too since I am also having an unhealthy attraction towards your brother. Will thought

#solangelo fic #solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #pjo hoo #karennina writes

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dccomicsimagines · 7 years ago

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Gone But Not Forgotten - Batfamily Imagine

Requested by Anon - a Halloween one where while out on patrol Batman and the fam get haunted by a ghost, making them return to the cave early to search for clue and up finding Alfred unconsciously on the ground -turns out he had an accident while putting away chemicals and would have died. And like later one of the boys find a picture of the ghost, Alfred's deceased wife who died during the war.

***

Jason was just about to pounce on a fleeing mugger when a chill ran up his spine. He felt a presence behind him as he spun around, guns raised with his fingers on the triggers. However, the sight made his blood run cold.

A translucent woman, dressed in a old British army uniform with a red cross on her arm, stood behind him. She frowned at his guns before pointing into the distance. A knot formed in Jason’s stomach as her low echoing voice reached his ears.

“Cave...now,” she whispered softly, but sternly enough to be an order.

“What the hell?” Jason choked in shock as her eyes narrowed at him.

“To the cave...now,” she repeated before she faded away. Jason stared at the place she had been, blinking his eyes before taking off his hood. He rubbed his eyes, trying to believe what he just saw.

“Stupid trick,” Jason mumbled to himself, putting his hood back on. However, he couldn’t escape the feeling he should listen to the woman.

***

Tim was just about to kiss Steph one more time when she suddenly froze, staring at something over his shoulder.

“Steph, what are you...” Tim trailed off when he turned to see a ghostly woman in a medic’s uniform standing behind him.

“Both of you....to the cave now,” the ghost woman ordered, her gaze fierce. Tim swallowed hard as Steph squeezed his hand to the point he was sure the bones snapped.

“Yes, Ma'am,” Tim mumbled automatically, sensing that the ghost woman meant business. The woman smiled at Tim’s answer before fading away.

“Tim, did you just talk to a ghost?” Steph whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief. He blinked, glancing at her.

“Well, it would have been rude not to answer,” Tim explained, shaking his head. “I mean if I was a ghost, I would like people to reply to me.”

Barbara had just finished brushing out her hair after a long, much-needed shower when she glanced up into the mirror to see something besides her reflection.

“That’s not the point!” Steph threw her arms in the air. She continued to speak, but Tim turned to look back at where the ghost had been, wondering why she would order them to the cave.

***

A scream caught in her throat as she pulled the towel tighter around her body. The ghost woman in the mirror started to speak.

“Go to the cave...now,” the ghost ordered. Barbara’s heart started pounding so hard, it threatened to break out of her chest.

“This can’t be happening,” Barbara whispered to herself, closing her eyes. Her mind tried to find a logical explanation for this, but she was coming up with nothing.

“To the cave...Batgirl....now,” the ghost’s voice sounded in her ear. Barbara screamed at the sound, jumping half out of her skin. She opened her eyes to find the ghost gone. Her heart calmed slightly as she frowned.

Dick punched the last of Penguins’ goons before turning toward Damian. “Robin, you doing alright?” Damian had mysteriously stopped mid-fight, causing Dick to have to swing in to protect him.

“The cave?” Barbara asked herself in confusion before she moved to get dressed.

***

“Who is that?” Damian demanded, pointing at a ghostly figure floating in the moonlight that shone through the warehouse’s skylight. Dick choked at the sight, his eyes almost popping out of his skull. Damian didn’t notice Dick’s pause, confronting the form. “Who are you?”

“Damian, Dick... to the cave,” the ghost whispered in a feminine voice. The firmness of the words caused Damian’s eyes to narrow despite the pounding of his heart. Dick still was unable to move.

“How do you know our names?” Damian snapped, approaching the ghost. He attempted to attack them only to fall through the translucent figure.

The figure, which Dick finally defined as a woman, sighed. She looked straight at Dick as if looking deep into his soul. “Go now,” she ordered, fading away.

Dick took a stuttered breath as he stared at the spot where she had been. Damian got to his feet, searching for the woman as he swore under his breath. “Damian, stop. We have to get back to the cave,” Dick said, moving towards the exit of the warehouse. Damian ran to catch up with him.

“You are going to listen to that phony, Nightwing?” Damian growled, shaking his head.

Bruce was in the middle of a Justice League meeting when the ghost appeared beside Superman. Bruce blinked, believing the woman to be a figment of his imagination. However, the woman was still there when he opened his eyes.

Dick simply gave him a stern look as they both headed back towards their motorcycles.

***

No one else in the room seemed to notice her as she began to speak.

“Go to the cave...now,” she whispered softly. Bruce’s blood ran cold as his defenses went up. He narrowed his eyes, recognizing the woman from somewhere, but the place escaped him.

“Batman, are you listening?” Superman asked, noticing Bruce was distracted. The ghost gave him a fearful look, pointing towards the teleporter.

“Go now,” she ordered firmly before fading away. Suddenly, Bruce was on his feet.

“So, why are you here?” Dick asked Jason as they arrived at the cave at the same time. Damian parked beside Dick, grumpy at Jason’s presence.

“Batman?” Superman asked as Bruce quickly left the room. “Where are you going?” Bruce simply shook his head, going into the teleporter. A sense of dread built up in his stomach, knowing that the ghost’s appearance was not a consequence.

***

Jason thought for a moment, choosing not to mention the ghost. “I came to pick up some equipment for...a stakeout I’m planning.”

Dick raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “Really? Because Damian and I saw a ghost who told us to go to the cave.” Damian grabbed Dick’s arm.

“Don’t tell that imbecile, Grayson,” Damian demanded, sending a glare Jason’s way. “He doesn’t need to know our business.”

Jason spoke up, ignoring Damian. “Wait, you saw her too?”

Dick’s eyes widened. “How did you know she was a she?” Damian stilled in surprise, waiting for Jason’s answer.

“I thought she was a figment of my imagination,” Jason mumbled, taking off his red hood helmet. He ran a hand through his helmet hair. “At least I know I’m not the only insane one.”

Dick was about to speak when the footsteps echoed from the stairs. Tim and Steph appeared a moment later, confused by the presence of the others. “Hey, what are you guys doing here?” Tim asked.

“I could ask the same thing about you,” Damian snapped, wrinkling his nose. “Father has got to improve the cave’s security to keep out the riffraff.”

“Shut up, Damian,” Steph growled, crossing her arms while staying close to Tim. “We were told to come here by this ghost lady.”

“So you saw her too? The woman in the medic uniform?” Dick asked, his voice cracking in surprise. Tim and Steph looked at each other before nodding. Everyone started to look scared, even Damian despite his attempt to appear unaffected.

“Okay, this is freaky,” Jason spoke, expressing everyone’s fears. The rumble of another motorcycle interrupted their thoughts. Barbara appeared a moment later, parking her bike beside Dick’s.

“Hey,” she greeted, surprised by everyone. “Don’t tell me you all saw a ghost who told you to come here?”

“Yeah, it seems we all did,” Dick replied, pinching the bridge of his nose in thought. “But why would they want us all here? What’s the purpose?” Damian moved closer to Dick as everyone grew more nervous.

The buzz of the teleporter made everyone jump. Each one of them dropping into fighting stance, ready for a trap. However, they all relax when they saw Bruce.

Bruce skidded to a halt at the sight of the batfamily. “What are you all doing here?” Bruce demanded, frowning deeply.

“We all got told to come here by a ghost,” Dick explained, resting a hand on top of Damian’s head. “This wasn’t some kind of Halloween prank by you, was it?”

“No, I saw the same person,” Bruce replied, glancing around. His eyes widened. “Where’s Alfred?” The batkids all shared a look, not realizing until that moment Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Bruce rapidly looked about the cave, noticing the faint amount of green gas creeping out from under the poisonous chemical vault. “No,” Bruce gasped, racing towards the vault. The others were on his heels.

Bruce quickly typed in the code before ripping open the door only to get a face full of gas. He coughed, grabbing his breathing mask from his belt. “Stay back,” Bruce warned before running inside.

“Like hell we will,” Jason retorted, slipping his red hood helmet back on. He sprinted in after Bruce while the others quickly tried to grab masks. Tim moved to try to start the ventilation systems to clear the gas.

Several hours later, Alfred was laying in his bedroom, hooked up to an oxygen mask and a heart monitor. Bruce sat by his bedside, watching over the man who was a father to him.

After several painfully long seconds, Bruce and Jason reappeared carrying Alfred between them. “Barbara, Tim, go prep the medical bay. Dick, Stephanie, Damian, clear the gas and figure out it’s compound makeup,” Bruce ordered. The others ran to follow his orders. Bruce glanced down at Alfred’s blue lips and white face, wondering if he had been too late.

***

It turned out everyone had arrived just in time for if Alfred had been in the gas for a minute longer, they would currently be planning a funeral. The ghost who had appeared to him had saved Alfred’s life. Bruce frowned as he thought about the ghost. The woman was so familiar, he knew her from somewhere.

“How is he doing?” Dick asked softly, coming into the room with a cup of coffee in hand. He handed the cup to Bruce.

“His voice may be rough for the next few days, and his throat will be sore, but Alfred should be fine,” Bruce answered, taking a sip. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Dick said, sinking onto a chair positioned by the foot of the bed. The two men sat in silence for a long moment before Dick spoke again. “So, what do you think about the ghost?”

“I don’t know what to think.” Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “I only know that she saved Alfred’s life by bringing us all here.”

Dick smiled sadly, looking at Alfred. “Yeah, but who was she? Why would she come to warn us?” Bruce frowned deeply in thought before taking another sip of his coffee. He was about to open his mouth to speak when Tim barged into the room.

“I found her,” Tim announced loudly only to be hushed by Dick. Tim looked at his feet sheepishly, mumbling an apology even though Alfred didn’t even stir.

“Who?” Bruce asked, glancing at the photo album Tim held. Tim quickly moved to his side, opening the album.

“The ghost.” Tim pointed to a picture of a beautiful woman dressed in a medic uniform. She had a young Alfred at her side. Bruce took it from Tim, staring down at the photo. He finally realized why the woman had been so familiar.

“(Y/N) Pennyworth,” Bruce whispered. He paled slightly. “I knew I recognized her.”

“(Y/N) Pennyworth? So the ghost was related to Alfred?” Dick asked, getting up to peek at the photo over Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce turned the page, coming upon a wedding photo of the woman and a young Alfred.

“She was Alfred’s wife,” Bruce explained softly as he glanced up at Alfred. Alfred was still sleeping peacefully.

Tim nodded, confirming what Bruce had said. “Yes, they were married for only two years. The both of them were in the army at the time. (Y/N) was a medic who was killed trying to evacuate wounded soldiers before their post was overrun by enemy soldiers.”

“That’s horrible,” Dick gasped, going back to sit in his chair. He buried his head in his hands.

“Alfred came here shortly after, having been discharged from the army,” Bruce said, leaning back in his chair. A smile formed upon his lips. “It appeared even now, (Y/N) is still saving lives.”

“I bet Alfred would love to know (Y/N) is still looking out for him,” Tim remarked, taking the photo album back.

Dick looked up with a sad smile on his face. “I guess this will be a ghost story to tell every Halloween, huh?”

Tim snorted as Bruce chuckled, “True. This will definitely be a Halloween we won’t forget.” Bruce leaned back in his chair as he swore he saw the woman again, standing beside Alfred. She leaned down to kiss Alfred’s forehead before fading away. A soft ‘thank you’ floated to Bruce’s ears. Bruce smiled, knowing everything was going to be fine.

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