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#though there's also a good amount from my dad's side too. he shook hands with obama once
spinningwebsandtales · 10 months
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Imagine Steven Grant Decorating The Christmas Tree With Your Daughter
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Steven Grant X FemReader
Rating: G
Warnings: None it's all Christmas fluff
Word Count: 718
Requested by @the-marshals-wife
(A/N:) I still owe my friend some requests for all the amazing work she does for me. And while she didn't request this character I know he is one of her faves and I came up with the idea at work. She seemed more than happy with the results from my brain. It also helps that it's the season! So Merry Christmas everyone and enjoy this fluffy goodness! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess
The Christmas season had finally come and it was your favorite time of the year. The house always seemed cozy with the glittering lights and heater going. It made leaving into the nippy mornings even harder than usual. But your favorite part was the giggles of your little girl and the boisterous singing of your husband who thoroughly loved Christmas carols. You were busy decorating the fireplace with garland and stockings while Steven and your daughter took care of the tree. They had just finish shaping the artificial branches that had been smooshed together from it's time in storage and started untangling the lights. You hummed gently to yourself while taking quick glimpses of your two loves. Steven had just finished singing the exhausting carol of 12 Days of Christmas, his daughter clapping and singing while her dad ran out of breath, due to him holding the last note for an absurd amount of time. Steven quickly recovered and went straight into Deck the Halls.
You shook your head, focusing back on your single task. Before too long Steven got tired of not having the music playing and forgetting certain lyrics of the carols his little girl was requesting, so he switched on the radio, tuning it the local station who had begun playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving. You joined in and now there was an impromptu trio filling the house with song. Steven hummed along to Silent Night while he wrapped the tree in sparkling Christmas lights. Around and around he went, it was making you dizzy just watching him. Of course he had to act all dramatic and cause little squeals coming from their side of the living room. Steven was laughing until he got too dizzy from his rocking around the Christmas tree and fell down almost taking the whole tree with him. This time you laughed loudly and swooped in to save your husband.
"Only you would get dizzy putting lights on the tree," you teased while helping him to the couch.
Clamoring up on her father's lap, you patted your daughter's head while Steven kissed her rosy cheek. While Steven recovered you finished up the fireplace mantel and finished up the lights on the tree. By then Steven was ready to get back into the game. Walking hand in hand towards you it was time for ornaments. You remembered the years fondly of your daughter being so small that majority of the ornaments wound up on one side of the tree at the bottom. The radio had become background noise for a little bit while you and Steven walked down memory lane. You remember your first Christmas fondly with your then new husband and then you remembered that first Christmas with your baby girl. Now here she was the spitting image of her father and your fierce attitude.
Steven jolted, cocking his head to the radio he grinned broadly down at his little girl. She started jumping up and down excitedly as her dad ran to the radio and turned up the song playing. You laughed, shaking your head as their favorite Christmas song of all time begun to play.
I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas flooding the house as both Steven and his mini me sung at the top of their lungs. Their silliness was contagious as you joined them in their singing and even the little dance they choregraphed on the fly. Though a short song all three of you wound up in a breathless pile on the floor. Like Steven before, you were a little dizzy from all the joyous spinning.
"I vote for no spinning next time," you panted.
"I second that vote," Steven agreed.
"Extra spinning," your little girl crowed.
It took a little long for you and Steven to recover as you both were content laying on the soft carpet until the room quit spinning. Steven slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze he shuffled closer to you. Your daughter had taken to spinning more around and around before she went back to placing ornaments on the tree. Steven kissed our cheek before he nuzzled into your hair.
"I love you," he mumbled.
You gave him a quick kiss on his chin, relishing in the scratch of his facial hair, "I love you too."
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rubydubydoo122 · 6 months
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Jason gets de-aged because I've seen fics of Tim or Dick being de-aged, and Bruce losing his memory, but no one has realized the potential for angst if you de-age Jason.
Turns out, Bruce was taking the day off work, but that just made it that much harder for Jason to sneak into the batcave, with both him and Alfred watching him. They were doing that thing where they were hovering while still giving him space. 
Jason just felt so stupid . You would think with all the random memories popping up, one of them would’ve warned him that his mom was dead— oh wait . One of them did. So really, it was just Jason being dumb. He just really thought he could have a mom again. 
Despite how long it had been since his mami died, he still missed her. Maybe it was because with going from foster home to homeless, to crime house, he never really had time to really grieve her. And with Papi, it kinda felt like he wasn’t allowed to grieve him because Jason had already been living with Bruce for some time. And his Papi was a criminal, but his Dad was Batman. 
Jason barely even knew Sheila Haywood. According to Bruce and Alfred, Jason had only known her for a day. So why did he feel so hurt about this? Why did this grief feel so much deeper than anything else?
Cass somehow practically appeared out of nowhere and handed him a book, “My English is not the best. Can you read to me?”
Jason looked at the cover, “ Pride and Prejudice . This is one of my favorites.”
Cass smiled knowingly, so she probably picked it for that reason. Maybe she didn’t even need him to read to her. Maybe she was doing this for him. Which was honestly really sweet. 
Cass leaned against the arm of the couch, and Jason went to sit on the other side when she opened an arm, “Cuddles too.”
“You make a lot of demands Ma’am.” Though he did lean into her. “Do we do this a lot? Cuddle and read?”
She shook her head, “Not like this. When I’m hurt and come for help, we read.”
“But not smushed up together like this?”
“No. You’re too big.”
Right. He was as big as Bruce. That was kind of weird to think about. 
So Jason opened the book and started reading out loud. 
It was the copy he read out of the most. The spine was worn, not too much, but that perfect amount where you could easily flip the pages. It was a hardback, and there were post-it notes on the pages that his favorite scenes or lines were on. 
Cass would occasionally ask a question about why a character would be doing something, or what a line or phrase meant, and Jason would happily explain. 
Seven chapters in, Jason’s pace of reading was starting to slow down, and his voice was getting hoarse from talking for so long without a pause. 
Jason was tired. He had been tired since this morning, because of his nightmare, and the information he had gathered this morning didn’t make him feel any better. 
Sometime, while he was reading, Bruce had come in and sat on the other end of the couch. Jason did object when Bruce had gently taken the book from him, and started from chapter eight. 
Jason also didn’t object when Cass started carding her hands through his hair. It felt nice. It reminded him of nights when mami’s eyes were clear of influence, and she’d take care of him for the night instead of the other way around. 
Jason let his eyes close, and after a couple minutes Bruce stopped reading. 
“I’m not sleeping, Old man, just resting my eyes.” 
He was definitely just resting his eyes
Cass could feel Jason fully relax and hear his breath deepen. “He’s sleeping now.” 
Bruce had a gaze lingered on Jason. His expression was fond. Reminiscing. Though there was pain too.
“You did good this morning.” Cass made sure to keep her voice quiet. Jason was a light sleeper. He always heard her when she would come into his apartment after patrol.
“How do you know?” It was one question that asked two.
“I know you did good because you spoke what you needed to say. From your heart. You don’t do that often.” Bruce did not know about the blackmail group chat, and he wasn’t allowed to know so Cass wouldn’t tell him about the video Tim had sent of this morning. 
“I was trying not to make him upset, but I ended up making things worse.” Guilt . 
Guilt was always on Bruce’s face whenever he talked about Jason. Guilt, hurt, and grief.
“If you did not tell him about his mom he would be angry. He would go looking for answers. Answers he shouldn’t know. Not like this.” Cass swirled one of Jason’s curls in her fingers, “We have to keep him…” Not happy, because no one could be happy all the time, “We have to protect his light. And you did that. You told him what happened, then you comforted him. It is what he needs. Comfort. So you did well.”
Bruce looked away from Cass, “Jason is probably going to be so angry at me when he’s back to normal. He’s going to hate me for taking advantage of his young state and–”
“No. Not angry. Hurt . He thinks you don’t care about him anymore. When he’s big again, tell him you do. Even though you’re bad at it.” Cass smirked, “Add it to the mission.”
Bruce groaned, “Of course you know about that.” He got up, “I’m going to go back to looking for the sorcerer. If you or Jason need anything…”
Cass smiled, “I know. We’ll come.”
And Bruce gave her a tiny smile back. A smile that said, Thank you. A smile that said I love you. 
Tim had, honest to god, thought Bruce would try his hardest to avoid Jason, so imagine the whiplash he faced when Bruce actually gave Jason a very genuine sounding heart to heart. And a hug . But should he really be surprised? It was Jason.
He knew that when Jason went back to normal it would just cause Bruce even more grief. And that grief would just cause Jason to lash out at Bruce because Jason’s not dead anymore. 
He doesn’t want to deal with the fallout. He couldn’t do that again. Not when he had spent his entire time as Robin dealing with it. He was just so tired of the same cycles over and over again. It’s infuriating. 
Jason needs to step aside from the mantle of angry ex-Robin because Tim could feel himself slowly stepping into that role. Maybe that’s why all of the future versions of himself turned evil. Because he was just done with Batman’s bullshit. 
Tim was going to go back to his apartment after work, but because he had fallen asleep at the batcomputer last night, he still had some work to finish. 
Tim doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he wasn’t expecting to come home to find Cass on the sofa in the living room with Jason napping in her arms.
 He obviously took a picture and sent it in the group chat. All eight of them were in it, so even though they said it was for blackmail purposes, it ended up being something more… sentimental. None of them would admit it though. In their line of work, it’s hard to hang onto the happier things especially with how dark things could get. They've all had near death (or just death) experiences at least once. The pictures made it easier to remember the good times. It made them remember to savor it. 
Jason never responded in the chat, but Tim knew he read through everything . Tim knew he saved every picture posted. 
Maybe Jason wouldn’t like seeing his younger self so close with the rest of them, maybe Jason would see it as emotional manipulation. Tim was pretty sure he was the closest to Jason, and they only talked when their cases overlapped. Though, he hoped that Jason would see it as the rest of them wanting him in their lives. (He wouldn’t, but Tim could hope)  
Cass looked at him with a look that clearly asked what’s up?
Tim’s response look asked how long have you two been here?
Cass lifted up four fingers. So four hours. Or minutes, but four minutes seemed too short of time for Jason to be out like a light.
Tim debated something. The times Jason has physically dragged him around his apartment, or literally thrown him. Tim has tried to drag Jason off his couch before but it’s never worked, but now… Tim wouldn’t get the chance to do this any other time. 
Cass gave him a look that asked what are you doing?
Tim shrugged, and grabbed Jason’s ankles and yanked him to the other side of the couch. 
Jason yelped, and Tim barely had time to dodge a kick, “What gives?!”
“Please, Jason, this is light compared to the things you have done to me.” Tim took Jason’s now vacated spot and curled up next to Cass, “and it’s my turn now.”
Tim could feel Cass smirk. 
Tim was also pretty sure he was about to experience a fist to face, but it never came. There was a light pat on his head, “I’m only allowing this because you’re my baby brother, and I’m hungry, and I want food. Do you guys want anything?”
Tim blinked, “I’m not a baby– I’m not that much younger than you– I’m older than you right now!”
Jason took a blanket out of the shelf and laid it across both him and Cass, “Nope, doesn’t count. Boop!”
Jason booped his nose.  
Tim officially stopped working.
“I’m in the mood for…mm…churros, but Alfred’s probably gonna tell me to eat food first. So what’re you guys in the mood for?”
“Noodles.” Cass answered almost immediately. Was Tim the only one hung up on the fact that Jason booped his nose?
“Like… spaghetti and meatballs or..”
“Stir-fry. You make it spicy. Good.” she lowered her voice, “Better than Alfred.”
Jason laughed, “I don’t think that’s possible, but I’ll try. What time is it? Should I make some for Duke and Damian too? Is anyone allergic to anything?”
“2:43. Yes. No, Damian is vegetarian.”
“Got it!” And Jason skipped off to the kitchen.
Tim looked down at the blanket wrapped around him, and then touched his nose. Ok, it wasn’t out of character for Jason to take care of him. He’s definitely, on more than one occasion, taken care of Tim. It’s just usually, Jason’s really aggressive about it. Grumbling while making food for him, yanking his computer away from him, physically throwing him into his bed after he’s pulled multiple all-nighters. 
It was just weird how gentle Jason was being. Not weird. Different. 
He brought up the security footage from the living room and sent it into the group chat. 
Stephanie replied to a video: NOT THE NOSE BOOP >u<
Duke replied to a video: You really let the intrusive thoughts win when you yanked him by the ankles
Babs replied to a video: AWWWW 
Babs: Sunshine Jason making an appearance was not anywhere on my 2023 bats bingo board
Tim: sunshine jason is scaring me
Tim: this is too ooc 
Dick replied to a video: This is 2 precious
Dick replied to a photo: This is going 2 b my new lockscreen
Stephanie replied to ~Sunshine Jason is scaring…~: Don’t say that about my homie
Tim: jason would say ‘I’m not your Homie’
Stephanie: but sunshine jason wouldn;t
Duke: Steph
Duke: i’m sorry
Duke: but I don’t think sunshine jason likes you because of the picture you took of him tripping in his RedHood uniform 
Stephanie: dwdw I’ll change that
Duke replied to ~This is going to be…~: I thought you just changed it to Damian
Dick: I’ll make a collage
Tim replied to ~This is going to be…~: cass said her and jason were reading before he fell asleep.
Tim: hold up
Tim scrolled back through the footage, but stopped when he realized Bruce was there. Reading to Jason . And Cass, but still. Tim scrolled back a bit farther, and realized that Jason didn’t even have to drag Bruce into doing it. He just did . 
Jason’s back to how he was before he died and Bruce pulls out the love and affection that he apparently just had in his back pocket? That’s not fair . 
No.
It’s not fair for Tim to think like that. Bruce is probably just acting to make sure Jason doesn’t realize he died. Yeah. That's probably it. 
Tim scrolled back further and sent the clip of Cass and Jason reading together, and then stood up. “Ok, I know Jason’s a really good cook, but I feel like we should go watch him considering he’s barely five foot.”
Jason was grabbing some already chopped vegetables out of the fridge. Hopefully Alfred doesn't have plans to use them later. He already had the noodles in the boiling water, but he was going to wait until they were halfway cooked to start cooking the vegetables.
So he started heating up the water, sugar and oil for the churros. 
Jason's pretty sure only Alfred knew this, but Churros are one of his main comfort foods. Especially when he missed his mom. Sure he loved chili-dogs, but those only taste the best from a vendor. And Neapolitan Ice Cream was more like his go-to ice cream flavor. Why choose one when you could have all three? 
Churros reminded him of cold winter days when the heating wouldn’t work properly, and he and Mami would make them to warm up. Mami would always add a little bit of cinnamon and vanilla into the dough. The first time he had made churros with Alfred, Jason had forgotten about that, and they didn’t taste the same. Jason hasn’t forgotten the cinnamon and vanilla since then.
Cass and Tim walked into the kitchen and sat at the counter. 
Jason got out a wok and tossed the oil, chilis, garlic and onions in. None of them were saying anything, but it didn’t feel like an uncomfortable silence. Maybe they’d been doing this for years. Sitting in silence, while Jason cooked. The thought made his chest feel warm.
“When did Bruce take you guys in?”
Tim and Cass had a silent mind conversation. “I started hanging around the manor when I was 13. And then Bruce adopted me when I was 15. Bruce adopted Cass around the same time.”
Cass nodded, “I was 17.” She looked up to think about it, “you were 17 too, 18 when Tim came.”
Jason stirred the vegetables around before adding the noodles, “What about Duke. And Damian, I guess.”
“Talia kinda just dropped Damian off on a random Tuesday. That was also close to two years ago. Dukes the newest. He’s only been here for a couple months.” 
Jason nodded. “Got it.” He turned off the stove with the wok. Then he walked over to the fryer with the churro dough before pausing. “Am I allowed to use the fryer?” 
Tim shrugged, “You’re literally the only one allowed to use the kitchen.”
Even though Jason knows how to use it, it’s the one thing he has to have supervision while using. Because hot oil does not feel good on skin. But technically, he was being supervised. By Cass and Tim. And technically , Jason was an adult. And if Alfred got mad, he could offer him a churro and puppy eyes.
He turned on the fryer, and once the oil was all heated up he started piping the dough in. 
He had almost finished when the garage door opened, followed by the sound of footsteps. 
“Master Jason, you know you are not allowed to use the fryer without supervision.” Alfred was standing at the door with his hands on his hips and his I’m disappointed in you ™ face. 
Duke and Damian were also walking in, but tentatively.
“But I’m 20…”
Alfred pinched the bridge of his nose, but Jason could tell it was just to hide a smile. “You are physically and mentally 15. The rules from then apply now. You need supervision while working with oil.”
“Cass and Tim were here.”
Damian crossed his arms,“Tt, Drake hardly counts as proper supervision.” 
“Cass was here, but I won’t do it again. Sorry Alfred.”
Alfred took the piping bag from Jason, “Well, since the house is still standing, and you are not injured in any way, I suppose I will allow it.” Alfred placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder, “Go eat in the dining room with your siblings, I can finish up here.”
So there they all sat, slurping noodles. 
“Jason, this is really good.” Duke leaned closer to him and whispered, “I’ve been missing spice.”
Jason grinned, “Thank you.” And yes, Alfred’s cooking was good, but after some time you start craving some spice.
Tim sniffled and wiped his nose. His cheeks were pink, and–
“Drake, are you crying?” Damian took the bottle of chili flakes and shook it on top of his noodles, “I knew you were weak, but I didn’t think you were this pathetic.”
“I’m not crying, I just don’t have a super spice tolerance like the rest of you.”
Jason laughed, “If it makes you feel better, Bruce is worse. I once made Nachos for a movie night, and since he’s a white man, I left out the jalapenos and I only put, like, three chili in the salsa. This man ate two chips, and was guzzling milk.”
“Seriously?” Duke looked surprised.
Jason nodded, “Dick should have it on video somewhere.”
“I’m asking him for this right now,” Tim took out his phone, blinked a couple times and then put it away, “Duke, you do it, my eyes are too watery.”
Duke smirked and started typing away.
Cass patted Tim on the shoulder, “Not your fault for crying. You’re just white.”
That earned a laugh from everyone. Except for Tim. He just turned redder if that was possible.
Duke glanced at his phone, “Dick said, ‘I hv a whole folder. We can hv a viewing when I get home.’ Then Steph said ‘Batman’s Kryptonite are nachos’ and then Dick said ‘+ most of the things Jason has made bc he 4got that Bruce was yt man’ Jesus Christ, it’s like deciphering an anagram trying to read Dick’s messages.” 
Tim sighed, “Millennials.”
Jason smirked, Dick’s typing has always been so dumb. Some things never change.
He starts to picture this sight, but it’s his older self. He thinks he can picture his older self. He thinks he can picture his older self maybe playing a supporting role in the Fall play or Spring musical. He thinks he can picture what he would’ve written his college essay about– losing a family, only to gain an even bigger one. He can picture himself with Bruce in his office opening up acceptance letters to Princeton, or NYU, but he’d ultimately choose to go to Gotham University. Actually, maybe he was wrong about that. Damian did seem shocked this morning to see Jason in the kitchen. Maybe Jason goes far enough away to Dorm, but still close enough to patrol when there’s an emergency. Yeah. He can see Bruce and Alfred helping him move into his dorm. He can see himself coming back on some weekends. Maybe he and Dick have become closer as time passed, because He can see Dick stopping by his dorm to pick him up to head to the manor. Maybe Damian’s in the car with them, or Tim, or Cass, or Duke. He can picture Alfred waiting by the door to greet him. He can see Bruce pulling him into a hug and asking him how his classes have been going. He can see them all sitting at the table, Damian and Tim bickering, Stephanie egging them on. Duke and Cass trading food, and Babs and Dick holding hands under the table. He can feel Bruce’s fond, but barely there, smile. Jason could feel the longing in his chest for all of that. 
Though it felt like something was holding back that longing. Like there was something physically blocking Jason from all of that. “Are… are we close?” There was a beat of silence, and then Jason put a hand to his heart, “because I think I feel… I feel calm– at peace when I’m with you Cass.” He looked to Tim, Duke, and Damian, “And you guys are my little brothers. I feel like… I would do anything for you guys.” 
“Jason–”
“But I also feel…guilty?” Jason thought about it for a moment, “No. Ashamed. I don’t know why, but I think I’m ashamed of myself and–”
“Jason, stop.” 
Jason snapped his mouth shut.
Tim set down his fork and had a silent conversation with Cass and Damian. It didn’t seem like Duke was part of their mind conversation, but most of the guilt and shame bubbled up more around Damian and Tim. The guilt and shame felt like it was going to overflow around Tim.
Tim looked Jason firmly in the eye, “A lot was changing all at once during that time. None of us blame you for the way you reacted.” 
Jason carefully inspected Tim’s face. He was doing the weird double mask thing he was doing earlier in the bathroom, “But you got the worst of it.”
“...Dick is so much better at this.” he looked back at Cass and She nodded, “Did you remember anything specific?”
Jason closed his eyes and tried to trace the guilt and shame, but ultimately drew a blank. “..No. It’s more like I’ve been feeling it.”
Tim nodded, “What were you feeling before the guilt.”
“Longing.” He was sitting on a rooftop, red helmet next to him, watching five figures leap across buildings in the distance. “I think I felt… Alone.”
A sad smile briefly appeared on Tim’s face, “A lot was changing during that time. And Bruce and Dick didn’t make sure you felt like you still had a place. You probably were all alone, and I don’t blame you for feeling like that. I didn’t understand until something similar happened to me.”
“Tt, and what happened doesn’t matter anyways, because for all we fight, at the end of the day, you have our backs, Akhi. You would take a bullet for each one of us.”
“And Jason?”
“Yeah?” “Stop being such a sap. You’re ruining your own street cred.”
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candychameleon · 8 months
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post of all my thoughts on the Skybound Transformers comic, where i actually go into WHY i like it
NOT SPOILER-FREE I wanna ramble freely abt this!!
i mean tbh all i have so far is praise but i just wanna ramble about specifically WHY i like it ykno
ok so first off the brutality…I've seen ppl complain abt that but honestly i LOVE it. I like this story establishing the tone and stakes RIGHT away. I was like OH okay it's going to be THIS kind of comic (in a good way). the comics being darker is smth i've always liked.
what's more I feel like it establishes the gravity of the decepticons being there. like...I don't think, in ANY TF thing, I have ever really felt FEAR for the human characters. so...starscream squishing a guy into GOO on-panel was a big OH moment. the danger feels tangible
which brings me into my thoughts on the decepticons and like...listen, i am the FIRST in line for stories about sympathetic decepticons and morally grey autobots. but i am absolutely LOVING how delightfully sadistic starscream is. it's about time he was an actual threat again
as much as i enjoy the misunderstood/underdog decepticon stories…they are the villains. that has always been their purpose in TF as an entire concept (besides SG i guess). so letting them BE villains and be just WHOLLY awful people like ooh i can get into this 👌
they're awful in a realistic way too, at least to me. like i enjoy how cartoonishly ~evil~ the decepticons are in like, the og g1 cartoon, but i'd never describe g1 starscream as "sadistic". but HERE?? in this comic?? absolutely would describe him that way. and it's amazing
which like…I am also glad for a story that doesn't pull its punches and give "important" characters plot armor. like i was FULLY shocked at not only the characters that (supposedly) died, but how brutally they died as well. again, great way to establish stakes
energy/resources scarcity is also something i'm glad is touched upon by this story right out the gate, you can FEEL the desperation from BOTH sides. it's something that's baked into the concept since g1, but i feel like g1 doesn't FULLY explore that yknow
the amount of horror i felt watching soundwave and starscream rip skywarp apart out of sheer desperation? yeah that SHOOK me, and i LOVE when stories can do that. that was horrific and really went a long way in showing just how desperate cybertronians have become and what lines the cons are willing to cross. rip though god, was hoping skywarp was finally gonna get to do something LMAOO 💀💀
but also on the other hand…wow a continuity where CLIFFJUMPER gets to do something and doesn't die immediately?? revolutionary, good for him
and i have seen a lot of people praising this specifically and i have to agree that i LOVE how this optimus prime is written. he's so kind and gentle, with an absolute WONDER for the beauty of organic life and willingness to protect creatures he JUST met. i love that so much??
i've been so jaded abt OP for a while and only recently started liking him bc i have issues with how he's written in…a LOT of continuities lol. but this is such good OP characterization. not my FAVE, like honestly my fave OP is more like Tired Annoyed Dad, but this is SO good
uhh I think that's all my thoughts. tl;dr i am LOVING this comic so so much so far, the fact that i can ramble THIS much about it when there are only 4 issues out is a great thing imo, i am so excited to see where this story goes!
(and I'm hoping maybe someday I can work on them myself ahdlfsjh i am gonna try my hardest to make that happen)
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skymaiden32 · 2 years
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Braving the Storm
Thundertober/Inktober 2022 Day 17: Hurricane
The hurricane was far too strong to come out anytime soon. Guess they were staying in this basement for now… Wee!Tracy’s
Continuity: TAG
Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou (Please ask if you would like to be alerted when I update or write new stories)
Prompt list
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“I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay…” Scott rubbed a calming hand on his little brother’s back as the wind howled outside. “Deep breaths, Allie…”
Alan had always had a fear of storms, and anything with gale force winds, like the hurricane that was currently battering their home, dialled that fear up to eleven. The logical part of his six-year-old brain told him that they were safe here, but he just curled up even further into Scott’s chest, breathing in the comforting scent of his brother’s shirt. Once he had calmed down slightly, enough to poke his head out to look at the rest of his family, Scott sighed.
“Any sign of him yet?” The eldest brother frowned in the direction of the basement door. “And please stay away from the door…”
“No. He must’ve been in town when the storm hit. He did say he might go out today.” Virgil shook his head, moving back towards the main group and sitting next to Gordon. “You know what Dad’s like though, I’m sure he’ll be fine…”
“He better be…”
A moment of silence passed between them before anyone said something else. “Why don’t we play something to pass the time?” Gordon suggested.
“Like what?” John rolled his eyes fondly. “There’s no board games down here, and I’m pretty sure eye-spy would get boring fast…”
“Oh!” Alan was bouncing up and down excitedly. “We could play Rescuers! I play it all the time with my friends at school! We even have the perfect amount of people to play.”
“That sounds fun!” Gordon grinned at his immediate younger brother. “How do you play?”
Alan smiled as he explained the game to his brothers. “Okay, so there are two rescuers who have to save two victims, and there’s also someone on mission control who guides the rescuers to the danger zone.” 
“Sounds like a plan.” Scott smiled down at his brother. “Well, it’s your game, Al. So you get to decide who’s who…”
Alan thought for a moment before making up his mind. “John’s mission control because he’s smart. Scotty and Virgil, you two are the victims because you’re in trouble and need rescuing like, all the time.”
“Fair enough…”
“Which means Gordy and me are the rescuers!”
Gordon smirked. That was never a good sign. “Sweet…”
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“Oh no!” Virgil exclaimed in faux terror, surrounded on all sides by the small pillow fort he’d just finished building. “I’m trapped! I sure hope help is coming soon, or I’ll surely perish…”
“Don’t worry!” Gordon sped toward him. “We’ll save you!” 
John’s voice drifted through the chaos. “You’ll need to guide him out of there. It’s pretty dark.” The family prankster grabbed a hold of his hand, and Virgil shuffled out of the fort.
Once he was out, Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much for saving me.” Gordon grinned. “But my brother is missing! He went to get help, and I think he might have gotten stuck somewhere out there.”
“I think I’ve found him, Gordon.” Alan yelled from the other side of the room. “He’s stuck on that cliff!”
That was his cue. “Help!” Scott yelled from his spot on the stairs. “I’m not sure how much longer this ledge will hold. Please hurry!”
“Hang on just a little longer!” Alan yelled back. “We’re coming for you.”
This time, Virgil was in clear view of the ‘rescue’. “Be careful as you climb up there, Alan.” John advised. “That cliff seems unstable, so grab him and get out.”
“Got it.” 
Once Scott was back on the ground, Virgil walked up to him. “Thank you so much for saving us.” Scott said to the two youngest brothers. “It was very brave of you both to risk your lives to save us.”
“All in a days work, kind citizen!” Gordon exclaimed.
“So long as Rescuers Alan and Gordon Tracy are on the case, you should be safe!”
Virgil smirked. “Hey, our surname is Tracy too…” He gave Alan a wink. “Maybe we’re related…”
The basement filled with laughter at Virgil’s joke. Once it had died down, Alan was the first to notice it. “Hey! There’s no storm outside anymore.” He looked up at Scott. “Can we go upstairs now?”
Scott hummed, unsure. “Let me just check it’s safe to come out first, okay sweetie?” Alan slumped, dejected. “I’ll let you know if it’s safe or not, and if it is, we can go outside, okay?”
“Okay!” Alan perked right up again as Scott ascended the stairs. A few anxious minutes went by before he came back.
“Hurricane’s passed now.” He smiled as they all came bounding up the steps. “And you’ll never guess who’s in the kitchen…”
Gordon gasped. “Is it Dad?” Scott nodded, smiling as he watched the three younger brothers rush past him into the kitchen.
“Wow. Shocker.” Virgil deadpanned. “I told you he’d be okay…”
Scott rolled his eyes as his immediate younger brother fell into step next to him. “I know. You were right. Sorry for worrying, I guess…”
“That’s the thing, Scooter.” Virgil sighed. “You worry so much I’m scared you’ll overwork yourself and die of stress by the time you’re thirty…”
“I’m choosing to ignore that.” Scott frowned as the pair walked into the kitchen, where their father was currently being run ragged by Gordon and Alan. John just waited patiently at the other end of the table. “How’d your meeting go, Dad?”
Jeff gave his eldest a reassuring grin. Scott and the boy’s grandmother were the only ones aware of his plan at this point. “He’s a wonderful inventor. And, an even greater guy! Let’s just say he approves of the plan and wants to see it through.” The patriarch sighed, pulling Alan into his lap. “Anyway, enough about your boring old man. I wanna hear all about this Rescuers game you boys were playing.” He ruffled Gordon’s hair.
“Can I tell him?” Alan asked, looking around at his brothers. Once everyone had given him an encouraging nod, he started to tell Jeff all about it…
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Tell the people about the letwos
alrighty! fair warning its not good in there theres some not good family behavior in there. under a read more its probably gonna be kinda long
okay so let me set the scene. its like the late 90s/early 2000s. trip just moved with his mom and sister to the suburbs around 6 ish years after their dad died. he's like 9 her sister is 5
pretty much the letwos moved to mary bell because of a funny little thing called laplace's inc. there's some stuff involved with that, but pretty much it's the heaven business and their mom deborah/debbie/deb is the worst and also the most catholic person you've ever met and you can probably fill in the blanks there.
when trip is around 13 he ends up getting really really sick with. something i dont really know what but its not good and its deadly and its not looking good for him. at the awesome age of 14 years old they're still fighting it and she thinks Hey you know what im gonna go on a walk. so he does and omg whats this whos that guy?? anyway its mortimer and it just kinda goes like
"hey youre dying right"
"......yeah?"
"ok what if i told you. that you didn't have to do that if you just shook my hand about it"
"what" "i mean i'll take your soul but thats no biggie right. i mean you'll stay alive you'll live the rest of your natural life" (<- they're like the grim reaper they can do that) "oh. yeah thats no biggie i guess"
[they shake hands]
"shit dude i forgot to tell you. if i take your soul you have to stay here in the town you hate its like this whole thing"
"WHAT."
"you can pull your hand away though i won't get mad"
"i feel like it would be too late now anyway"
"yeah lol"
its like this whole thing about 'would you rather die or live a life you hate' yk. oh also trip wasn't like totally completely hopeless either. he could have maybe lived through it [although the chances were low] and now she has to spend the rest of her life thinking about like, what if she didn't make the deal and he ended up being fine. lol.
okay flash forward its 2008 trip is 16 going on 17 [something something sound of music reference] and cotard [his sister] is 13. gonna go more in depth with this elsewhere but pretty much trip and cotard try running away from mary bell/their shitty ass mom. and like trip can't leave mary bell but technically he's never tried before and maybe if they go with someone it'll work [spoiler: it doesn't]
trip is like, kind of aware that it might not work out for him, but if it didn't she thought cotard at least could leave. and cotard doesn't either because she doesnt want to leave trip behind. there's some other stuff that i haven't mentioned but this attempt def results in some like stricter regulations around their house. they were already realllly sheltered kids [homeschooled, isolated from their peers, generally only taught what their mom wanted them to know] and this just kind of sealed the deal on all that
anyways then trip moves out like two years later and cotard's slightly bitter about that but understanding yk, like good on you for leaving but also now i have to deal with all this alone. cotard moves out as well a few years later and her and trip lose contact even more. she still lives in mary bell she just lives on the complete opposite side of town. i like to think that she gets out a fair amount though, like traveling and stuff [not for very long though since mary bell kind of does that whole moving thing]
honestly i really don't know enough as i should about cotard she's like fully fleshed out in my head but i really can't think of anything specifically about her. like i know she takes a while warming up to people, like quiet at first but gets louder as you get to know her [wow just like how the song goes from being quiet to being loud]. but i need to work on fleshing her out some more i really do
anyways. six years after trip moves out debbie dies and ohhhh haha that's so weird that she died of blood loss when the mayor is a vampire. thats so strange im sure those two things aren't related at all [they are btw vannie killed her].
annnnnd i think thats all? i feel like there's stuff im forgetting and i dont think this was as detailed as i was hoping but its at least the basics
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sodasback · 3 years
Text
Let Go
Reposting Let Go from my deleted accounts. Minor edits made.
JJ Maybank x Reader
Just SMUT. Real filthy smut.
Warnings: Very explicit sexual content. Cursing. All consensual. 18+
JJ got a gig cleaning pools on Figure 8 for the summer. And your family had a pool. Ergo, JJ was at your house every couple weeks cleaning your pool.
Of course, you knew JJ Maybank. He was the gorgeous bad boy Pogue every girl swooned over. And JJ Maybank knew you too. You were the Kook man-eater, currently on the arm of none other than Rafe Cameron. And sure you and Rafe had a good time together and you loved how possessive he was over you, but you both knew deep down your relationship was all about status. You were the ultimate young power couple of Figure 8.  
You and JJ, on the other hand, despised each other. …but like many have said, there’s a thin line between love and hate. And the truth was: you and JJ hated each other because you wanted what the other seemed to have.
You wanted to be free. Free of the obligation and the standards and the suffocating expectations. And JJ wanted to feel secure and cared for. Fuck, he just wanted to know where his next meal was coming from and what roof he was gonna sleep under without getting yelled at.
Right now, JJ was standing shirtless and sweaty with perfectly messy wet hair as he used the net to get crap out of the pool at your house while you were coming home from a day of waxing, tanning, manicures and pedicures.
You saw JJ and decided your day just hadn’t had enough excitement in it yet.
“Hey pool boy” You called to him with the perfect amount of flirtation and snobbery. JJ looked up at you. 
“You missed a spot.” You said, pointing to the leaves that were in the pool near you. He walked over to you with his usual cocky, Kook-hating attitude.
“Yeah, so did whoever sprayed that fake tan on you.” He retorted back, gesturing to a blotchy spot on your hip exposed by your cropped tank top.
You looked down at it, “Fuck!” you cursed, causing JJ to laugh as he scooped the leaves out of the pool.
“Shit, money can buy you everything, can’t it Y/L/N?” JJ asked casually, “Fake hair, fake tan, fake nails. Is anything about you real?” He asked looking down at your bare cleavage pushing up through your top.
“There’s only one way for you to find out.” Your was voice dripping in sex and JJ looked at you in shock, not expecting your answer as his lips parted slightly, exactly the reaction you wanted.
“...too bad I don’t date stoner surf bums though.” You shrugged.
And JJ regained the composure he lost for a second as he leaned the net against the wall and turned back to face you.
“Yeah, you prefer psychotic, spoiled coke addicts, right?” He narrowed his eyes down at you and you glared at him.
“He doesn’t do that shit anymore.” You stated definitively, referring to Rafe’s drug habit.
JJ snorted and nodded at you, “Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night princess. …But I did literally just see him doing lines and drinking cocktails when I was cleaning the Cameron’s pool today.”
You felt disappointed, hurt and angry at this news. Because 1. Rafe canceled plans with you today to do “something important” for his dad and 2. You also knew Rafe wouldn’t usually drink and get high by himself, so you were pretty sure JJ was leaving part of the story out. 3. Rafe promised he wasn’t using coke anymore.
“You know he’s an asshole, right?” JJ asked, wanting you to admit you were a better person than your reputation made you out to be.
You were quiet as you internally acknowledged that JJ was right.
Without an answer from you, he sighed, “But I guess… superficial Kook princess like you will tolerate just about anything to make mommy and daddy happy with that Cameron last name.” He shrugged.
You smirked at this, “You almost sound a little jealous, Maybank.”
JJ scoffed, but you continued taking a step towards him as he held his ground. “I mean, I may not be some desperate tourist or some grungy surfer chick, but I know you think I’m hot.”
JJ broke eye contact with you and shook his head, opening his mouth to object but you took another step towards him and you could hear his breathing falter slightly as he looked back at you. So now you were ready to lie and say the thing you needed to say to get what you and JJ both desperately desired.
“And I know you wanna fuck me.” You said dangerously, taking another step so you and JJ’s bodies were almost touching, running a finger down JJ’s bare abs, making him shiver before you looked up at him, “But you’re scared. You’re scared that you wouldn’t live up to Rafe Cameron because you’re just a dirty, little Pogue from The Cut and-”
“Shut the fuck up.” JJ commanded through gritted teeth as he grabbed your hips and pushed you roughly against the wall of the pool house. You gasped and your eyes widened.
You and JJ both knew you said what you said to get to this point: You looking up at JJ with a little fear in your eyes as your heart raced and your core clenched. And JJ looking down at you like a wolf trapping his prey as he pressed your body firmly into the wall behind you with a harsh grip on your hips. He stepped in closer to you, pressing his body into your’s to keep you in place as he lifted one hand to grip your chin and smush your cheeks a little bit.
“You run that little mouth of your’s so much and no one ever puts you in your fucking place.”
You let the shock of JJ actually making this move leave as quickly as it came and you pushed back against JJ’s chest with your hands and tried to push his arm away from your face, not wanting to give in so easily. But JJ wrestled with your squirming body and grabbed both your wrists and pinned them on either side of your head. You huffed in frustration.
This caused you both to smile at each other, knowing this is what you wanted. But just in case, JJ loosened his grip on your wrists ever so slightly and looked in your eyes seriously for a second, “Hey, you want this right? Say ‘red’ if you actually wanna stop, yeah?” He asked. You looked in his eyes and nodded.
“Like how far do you want me to take this?” He checked one more time.
“Anything JJ” You told him. And he still looked unsure. “I’ll say ‘red’ if I want you to stop, promise.” And he searched your face for a second, then nodded at you sweetly before he smirked going right back “into character.”
His grip on your wrists tightened as he moved them further above your head so he could hold both of them with one hand and move his other hand to squeeze your chin and cheeks again.
“I know you’ve wanted this for a long time. I see the way you look at me. You think I don’t, but I know you open your window whenever I’m here cleaning the pool, so you can catch a glimpse of me. Or even when you’re with your douche boyfriend and see me on the street. You think I don’t see the double take you do?” He said and you tried to turn your head away from him, but he firmly turned your chin so you’d look at him again. JJ moved his grip to your jaw so you could talk.
“If you noticed all that, that means you were looking at me too. At the beach, you stare at me in my bikini. And I saw you at Boneyard parties watching me dance with my friends.” You told him.
JJ just narrowed his eyes at you, knowing he had gotten caught too. You slipped one of your wrists free and grabbed JJ’s wrist to move his hand from your jaw. But he overpowered you and pinned your arm to your side.
“So if you’ve wanted this for such a long time, why are you still fighting it? Are you this much of a fucking brat for Cameron?” JJ asked, still looking in your eyes before he moved next to your head to whisper in your ear.
You closed your eyes feeling his hot breath hit your ear as he continued, “I think it’s because, unlike me, we both know, he doesn’t give a fuck if he makes you feel good.”
JJ pressed a small kiss just below your ear and then nibbling and sucking on your earlobe causing you to let out the smallest whimper you couldn’t hold back.
“You know I’m gonna make you feel better than he ever has, but you can’t admit that, even to yourself, so you’re gonna resist me as much as you can so you can feel like you aren’t betraying him and being a shitty girlfriend for letting a pogue, none the less, be the one to make you so wet.”
JJ continued, sucking on your neck just a little and speaking again, “And you get to run the show wherever you go and even if you won’t say it, you crave for someone to take control from you and put you in your place. For once, in your god-damned spoiled princess life, you want someone to not let you be in charge.” He finished as he pressed his body against your’s before checking your expression.
You chest was heaving up and down as you breathed heavily being way more turned on having JJ Maybank pin you against a wall than you cared to admit. You glared at him with a furrow in your brow. Then you surged forward. JJ released your wrists and you grabbed a fistful of his hair with one hand and gripped his shoulder with the other as your lips crashed on his. JJ’s hand immediately went to the back of your upper thigh as he hitched one of your legs onto his hip. His other hand was squeezing your torso; his thumb sneaking underneath your bra and skimming the underside of your boob in the most aggravatingly teasing way possible.
Your mouths were already open, tongues wrestling each other, teeth hitting in the process. You jumped up and wrapped your other leg around JJ’s waist as he squeezed your legging-covered thighs.
After the initial surge of adrenaline, you both slowed down a little. You tugged at the roots of JJ’s hair and he groaned a little before biting your bottom lip and pulling away from you slightly, giving your thighs a hard squeeze at the same time.
When JJ released your lower lip, you pulled away from him, “Pool house.” Was all you said before your lips started moving against each other again and JJ walked through the door of the pool house, into the guest bedroom.
He kicked the door shut behind him as he nudged your head to the side to start leaving hot, wet open-mouth kisses along your jaw and down your neck causing you to moan as he let your legs slide down his waist so you were standing again.
His hands gripped your hips as he kept working on your neck while he walked you backwards towards the bed. He gave you no space as you fell back onto the bed and he continued to crawl over you, now taking his time to suck your neck as he propped himself up with arm near your shoulder. The other hand massaging your hip.
“Maybank, no hickeys. …Rafe.” You said. And really you said it for both your sakes, knowing if Rafe found out who you cheated on him with, it wouldn’t be good for either of you, but worse for JJ for sure.
“I really don’t give a fuck.” JJ said as he continued leaving more hickeys along your neck just to spite Rafe even more.
“Take your top off.” JJ commanded.
You rolled your eyes and took your tank top off before JJ’s hand flew to your throat holding it with only slight pressure. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”  He said calmly and almost teasingly, which only made it that much more intimidating. He knew he was really pushing your limits of being told what to do.
So after the breath hitched in your throat, you just stared at him defiantly in a stand off. JJ raised his eyebrows expecting an answer from you, but you stayed silent, rubbing your lips together firmly, contemplating your next move so JJ snaked his fingers in your hair and slowly but firmly pulled, cranking your neck to the side and eliciting a sigh full of pleasure and pain to escape your now open mouth. “Fine.” You spat out.
JJ let out a dark chuckle. “You’re such a fucking brat. But you love this don’t you?” He asked before dipping a finger in your bra cup and pulling it down so your breasts were exposed to him.
He took a moment to admire them as he squeezed one before going down and swirling his tongue around your other nipple and biting at it lightly. He looked up at you, “You like to push back because you want me to show you how much stronger I am than you. You love being dominated, huh?”
You took a deep breath as JJ put his mouth on your boob and sucked a harsh hickey there, while his hand started playing with the waist line of your leggings teasing you. “You love feeling helpless underneath me?”
He snuck his fingers underneath your leggings and your lace thong but didn’t move further yet, “Answer me.”
And with the anticipation of JJ finally touching you where you need him, the answer easily fell from your lips “Yes” you breathed out.
“Good girl” JJ praised as he ran his fingers through your folds. You let out a pained breath at finally being touched but JJ also saw the way your mouth twitched like you were going to object and then stopped.
JJ chuckled. “You don’t usually like being called a good girl. But you wanna be my good girl, don’t you?” He asked gently stroking your clit, causing you to close your eyes and open your mouth.
Then, JJ abruptly plunged a finger into you, “Don’t you?” He asked more sternly this time.
“Fuck! Yes.” You answered.
“That’s what I thought. Let’s see how much of a good girl you can be. Take off your leggings and your bra and get on your knees.” JJ said as he quickly pulled his fingers from you. And stood up from the bed.
You sat up on the bed and gaped at him as he smiled at you evilly. He knew he was really pushing your limits, but he also knew it was only turning both of you on even more.
“Seriously JJ?!” You asked getting mad about all the teasing.
When you didn’t immediately get up and follow JJ’s orders, he came over and put his hand under your chin as he pulled your lower lip down with his thumb, “Don’t make me tell you twice, sweetheart.” You narrowed your eyes at him, but grabbed his wrist as his thumb released your lip, to pull yourself up from the bed.
JJ took a step back as you stripped down to just your thong. You smiled, catching him indulging himself drinking in your naked body.
“Knees” he reminded you. And before you could even do it, JJ said, “Don’t even think about rolling your eyes.” You gathered all your strength to not be bratty back with a deep breath as you got on your knees in front of JJ.
As much as you had a love-hate relationship with the way JJ was teasing you, being in this position, on your knees in front of him, only made your panties that much more drenched. Your hands wasted no time going to his swim trunks and pulling them down releasing his cock as it slapped up against his stomach. Your mouth was practically watering.
JJ ran a hand through your hair, “Is my good girl desperate to have me in her mouth?”
“Are you gonna keep making me answer questions this whole time or are you gonna let me suck your dick?” You asked bluntly.
JJ smiled, but harshly pulled your hair eliciting a whiny “ow” from you.
“For once, you need to work for everything you get and you need to be the one not in charge Y/N. And then I’ll make you feel better than any guy ever has. But you have to be good.”
“What if I’m not?” you asked innocently, tilting your head to the side.
JJ smiled, “Then there’s just gonna be more pain with your pleasure.” He said simply and then added, “But I’m learning you’d probably like that too. You’re dirtier than I thought. You like being a little slut, huh?”
You contemplated. Wondering if you should give in to JJ or keep resisting.
You looked up at him and nodded, “Mhmm”
He smiled down at you knowing he had won a little. He pumped his cock a few times. “You want my cock in your mouth?”
“Yes, JJ” you breathed out.
“Tell me how much you want it. Work for it.”
You gathered more strength and finally decided to fully submit to JJ’s whole power dynamic.
“JJ please, I want your cock down my throat.” You said, placing your hand below his, around his cock.
“Put your mouth on it baby.” He encouraged. And you licked your lips before running your tongue along the underside of it. JJ took a sharp inhale and gathered your hair in a ponytail as you wrapped your lips around him and swirled your tongue around the head. You took more of him in your mouth sucking as your hand pumped the rest.
“Fuck Y/N.” JJ groaned and threw his head back. Your head bobbed up and down on his length as saliva started to drip down your chin just a little. Each time you went down, you took a tiny bit more of him into your mouth. One hand now running your nails along his thigh.
Finally, you took all of JJ in your mouth and his cock hit the back of your throat causing you to gag. “Fuck” JJ cursed again. He let you be in control for a few moments longer before he couldn’t help but thrust into your mouth.
“Ahh you’re such a good little slut for me Y/N. You take my cock so well.” He told you as he hit the back of throat repeatedly. “Touch yourself baby. Is choking on my cock making you wet?”
You slid your fingers through your painfully throbbing cunt and opened your eyes to look up at JJ and nodded. JJ pulled out of your mouth completely letting you breathe. “You want more baby?” He asked and you nodded your head eagerly.
“I want you to cum down my throat, J” you said. JJ bit his lip and looked at you painfully, having so many places in mind where he wanted to cum. “Fuck” He cursed again as you took him back in your mouth.
“Put your hands behind your back, pretty girl.” He said and you immediately obeyed as he fucked your face. A few more thrusts and JJ was cumming down your throat and you continued bobbing your head up and down on his cock working him through it while you swallowed. JJ pulled his cock from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting the two as you caught your breath. JJ’s body was flooded with a rush of oxytocin motivating him to lift you from the ground and onto the bed.
“Fuck, so good for me baby.” He said, wiping the saliva and cum from the corner of your mouth his thumb and then peppering kisses along your jaw and neck.
You ran your hand through his hair and pulled him away from you for a second so you could kiss his mouth. JJ and you kissed sensually as he held some of his body weight off you and then he started kissing his way down to your stomach.
He left one more gentle kiss just above the waistline of your thong before he put his arms under each of your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed while he got on his knees on the ground. He sucked red marks that would surely be turning purple on your inner thighs as he ran his finger underneath the side of your thong multiple times.
“JJ stop teasing and do something already.” You whined.
JJ chuckled, “Someone’s desperate” he teased as he pulled your panties down your legs. 
“Spread your legs for me” He commanded as he wrapped an arm around each of your thighs again and took a long look at your dripping cunt like he was looking at a piece of cake. “Ahh your pretty little pussy is so wet, Y/N. Who are you this wet for?”
“You, JJ.” You sighed out feeling his warm breath hit your core and dying for some physical contact.
“That’s right baby” He praised smugly before giving your clit a gentle kiss and then kitten licks that quickly turned to sucking on your clit.
You immediately threw your head back and closed your eyes at the pleasure. JJ was truly an expert at eating pussy. After giving your clit attention he moved down and fucked your cunt with his tongue causing your legs to clench around him and your hips to move. JJ untangled his arm from under your thigh, and grabbed one of your hands as he laid his forearm across your lower stomach to keep you still. You moved your other hand into his hair, tugging at it and making him moan into you. He then sunk 2 fingers into you and pumped in and out; curling them in just the right way while sucking on your clit again.
You moaned loudly as your legs began to quiver. “Fuck JJ!”
“You’re close pretty girl. Let go. Cum for me.” He told you and you let the rubber band snap and the waves of your orgasm rush over you. You tried to close your legs but JJ kept them open working you through it and lapping up every drop of your cum he could before you pushed his head away gently. JJ stood up and pulled you up to a sitting position on the side of the bed after you caught your breath.
JJ held his fingers dripping in your cum in front of your mouth. You obediently opened your mouth and sucked on his fingers, tongue swirling around them. “Such a good little whore for me.” You leaned forward, loving the way JJ talked to you and he noticed.
He pulled his fingers from you mouth and held your chin tilted up at him. “God, you’re so much kinkier than I thought. You like being called names, huh?”
You nodded and then looked away and blushed. “I like when you call me names. I don’t know why- I-”
“No. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s fucking hot. I love that you wanna be called my little cockslut. That for once you don’t need to be this perfect Kook. You can be a dirty little slut for me.” He said pecking your cheek and rubbing his thumb across your chin. 
Then, he paused for a second like he was hesitant about something but then he said, “Open your mouth for me and stick out your tongue.” He commanded as he pulled down your chin with his thumb.
You did as you were told and stuck out your tongue. JJ bent down a little and spit in your mouth. “Fucking swallow.” He ordered lowly. And you swallowed it greedily, feeling your pussy throbbing again. JJ noticed your legs rubbing together and he grew hard again at the sight of you being turned on from him spitting in your mouth.
“Fuck” JJ cursed to himself for the umpteenth time. Then, he was caught off guard as you pulled him onto the bed and crawled on top of him.
“JJ, I need you inside me.” You told him as you straddled him and pinned his wrists to the bed.
JJ looked at you amused, “Oh you think you’re gonna be on top for this?” JJ asked incredulously. 
You smiled at him. “Yup” you said, as you released one of his wrists so you could line him up with your entrance. But before you could, JJ easily flipped the two of you over and pinned your arms down.
“JJ!” You protested in frustration and tried to sit up or flip over again, but JJ just kissed you hard into the mattress. Then he sunk into you, pulling away from the kiss at the same time to hear your moan as you felt him fill you up.
“Shit y/n/n.” JJ hissed, “You’re so tight, baby.” He laced his fingers through your’s, “Ready?” He asked. You nodded your head. And JJ started to rock his hips slowly into you.
“Faster, J” You told him and he just smirked at you causing you to furrow your brow in confusion.
“Beg for it.” He stated.
“JJ” You warned sternly and you wrapped your legs around his waist to try and get leverage to flip you both over so you could control the pace but it was no use.
“Nice try. ..Tell me I’m better than Rafe and I’ll give you what you want.” He said smugly. You immediately rolled your eyes and JJ stopped completely.
“Wrong move princess. Get on your elbows and knees, ass up.” he commanded darkly as he pulled out of you. You whined at the empty feeling. “I’m not telling you again.” JJ said.
“Relax” You grumbled as you got on your elbows and knees and JJ immediately landed a hard slap to your ass.
“Ow! Fuck J!” You yelled at him. JJ spotted a scarf hanging off the headboard and grabbed it.
“Sit up on your knees. Give me your hands” He said tying your hands together with the scarf.
“Really JJ?” You asked.
“You know, I wonder how hard I need to go to fuck that attitude out of you” JJ wondered out loud as he turned to grab something else.
“Maybe if you actually fucked me hard, you could find ou-” You couldn’t finish what you were saying because JJ had stuffed your drenched lace thong in your mouth making you even more turned on and frustrated at the same time. 
JJ pushed you down onto you elbows and then propped your ass up further in the air. “There” he said satisfied landing another slap to your other ass cheek causing a muffled squeak to come from you.
“You’ve been such a bratty little slut for me. I don’t think you deserve to get fucked. But I can’t resist your tight little cunt.” JJ said sinking into you from behind. “Fuck Y/N” he groaned stretching you out again and then slamming into you hard. He continued thrusting into you and then felt your walls clench a little. “Don’t you dare cum, pretty girl.”
“Please JJ” You whined around your thong. JJ reached around and pulled your panties from you mouth. “What was that sweetheart?”
“Please JJ.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me cum. I’ll do anything.” You begged as he continued thrusting into you.
“Tell me I’m better than Rafe.” He spat out.
“Yes, JJ you’re better than Rafe. Fuck!”
“Are you mine or his?” He asked.
“I’m your’s JJ. I’m a filthy little slut for you. Please!” You whimpered.
“Cum all over my cock, baby.” He told you. Your orgasm hit you hard and JJ fucked you through it and then he kept going and reached a hand around to play with your clit. You whimpered from the overstimulation.
“Fuck J, stop, too much.” You whined. And tried to move his hand away. He used his other hand to pull you up by your hair so your back was flush against his chest. “Fucking take it.” He said through gritted teeth as a second orgasm built. “Cum with me one more time. Be my filthy little cockslut baby.”
You moaned loudly as JJ bit into your shoulder and you both reached your climax again. JJ thrusted slowly as you came down from your highs. He slowly pulled out of you and gently laid you both down. He pulled the comforter over you both as you turned to face him and nuzzled into his neck. He wrapped his arms around you as you both laid together naked and completely blissed out.
“You okay? Was that okay? Did we go too far?” JJ asked with his chin on the top of your head. You leaned back a little so he could see your face.
“That was fucking hot Maybank.”  You said and pecked his lips before snuggling back into him. He let out a relieved chuckle and pecked the top of your head.
As you laid there in JJ’s arms, you felt …free. You reached a hand around to comb through JJ’s hair at the back of his head as you rubbed your thumb back and forth his skin where your hand was on his back. And JJ felt …secure and taken care of.
It turned out that you could give each other what the other one so desperately needed.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
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If I Fell For You (Part 2) - Baseball Caps & Stroller Naps
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Summary: The reader gets into the swing of things around the Ackles household and starts having more one on one time with Jensen. He even offers to set her up with a friend of his. When he invites her to a family outing as a friend though, she gets another glimpse that he might not be as put together as he appears...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader
Square: Daddy!Jensen
Word Count: 5,900ish
Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent
A/N: Things are starting to happen! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo!
________
“Good morning,” you said the next day as Jensen walked into the kitchen covered in sweaty workout clothes.
“Morning,” he said, going to the fridge to grab a drink. “Get the kids to school okay?”
“Yup,” you said, Jensen sniffing the air and humming as he walked over to where a loaf of banana bread was cooling in the rack. “Ah, it’s still too hot. Wait another half hour.”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “It smells amazing by the way. I don’t think anything’s been baked in this house in six months.”
“I’ve always enjoyed it,” you said, Jensen taking a seat on top of the counter. He chugged down the cold bottle of water, some of it dripping down the corners of his mouth. “Enjoy sleeping in today?”
“You don’t know the half of it. I feel amazing.”
“You look rested for the first time since I’ve met you,” you said. “You should sleep in on the weekends more too. The kids don’t need to be up at dawn.”
“No, they don’t,” he said. “I do love sleep too. You do okay with getting the three of them going on your own today?”
“Yeah. JJ’s old enough to get herself dressed and make her bed and do a few things on her own. The twins are a balancing act but the trick is to give yourself double the amount of time you think you need and you’ll never be late.”
“Not a bad tip,” he said as you finished wiping off a glass and picked up a pad and pen. “Whatcha working on?”
“Ideas for crafts and that sort of thing. You guys have a lot of supplies already so I was thinking of some ideas to do this week,” you said.
“You know...you can stick them in front of a TV too. They have their shows they like. We aren’t big on tracking screen time,” he said. “As long as they play and do some kind of creative thing everyday they can watch TV for a few hours in a row if they want. Our parents didn’t worry about that shit when we were kids, you know?”
“No, they didn’t do that,” you said. He lifted up the bottom of his muscle tank and wiped off his face, your eyes going straight down to the pad so you wouldn’t risk staring. “Any work scheduled for today?”
“I gotta wash up, head to the brewery for a few to check on things. I have some voice acting work I’m doing right now so I go to a place downtown and record that. That’ll be my afternoon. I can handle making dinner tonight. I should be back around four thirty, maybe a hair after,” he said. 
“Alright,” you said. “Anything you need at the store today?”
“Nah, we got plenty here,” he said. He wiped off his face with his shirt again, using his collar this time. You handed him a dish towel and he smiled, rubbing it over his neck and head. “Sorry. I’m dripping aren’t I.”
“A little. Do you work out a lot?” you asked. 
“No more than the average person. Try to do thirty minutes in the morning most days of the week. It’s sort of been my only alone time lately,” he said.
“Are you a runner?”
“God no. I’m not built for that. I like boxing and HIIT, weights, that sort of stuff. Part of my job is to look a certain way so if I’m gonna be the tough guy…”
“You gotta look like a tough guy?” you asked. He smiled and you looked him up and down. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re a strong guy, that’s pretty obvious. But you’re not a tough guy.”
“Oh I’m not?” he asked but there was a lightness to his voice.
“Tough guys tend to be assholes. You’re too nice for that,” you said. 
“I suppose you have a point,” he said, sliding off the counter. He stepped over to the banana bread and picked up the knife nearby, slicing off a piece for himself and popping it in his mouth. “Hot. Hot.”
“I told you so,” you said with a small laugh.
“Tastes delicious though,” he said with his mouth full. You shook your head as he ate another piece and turned to go upstairs.
“Jensen,” you said, pointing at the sweaty dish towel. 
“Ugh, yes mom,” he said, swiping it away with a smile. 
“Thank you,” you said, tapping on your notepad. You felt his presence beside you, not to mention the smell, and turned your head up, Jensen smiling back. “Yes?”
“Aren’t you due for a break?” he asked.
“You don’t really get how this nanny thing works yet, do you.”
“Yeah well...I’m not a shitty boss so I guess you’ll have to get used to that too. Take a break Y/N. Have some coffee on the balcony. It’s a sunny January day. Enjoy it,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he pointed at the back door before he headed upstairs. You bit your bottom lip and glanced at the clock. You had been going for over three hours non-stop and one of those had been spent trying to convince a four year old he had to wear pants to daycare.
You turned to leave the kitchen when you heard a tsk. You jumped and slipped on the rug in front of the sink, falling backwards straight down to the hardwood floor.
“Sorry! Sorry!” he said as he rushed over. “I’m always tripping over that thing.”
“I’m fine,” you said as you sat up with his help. Your ass hurt but you knew you’d be alright. “Maybe we move the rug from the very trippable area?”
He swallowed and stared at you for a long moment before you smiled.
“How about we put it outside your office?” you asked softly. He nodded and you picked up one end of the long strip of fabric. He went to the other end and picked it up, backing up as you walked it over to the other side of the house. You laid it out in front of his closed door, smiling as you straightened it up. “There we go. Safe and sound.”
You headed back to the kitchen, Jensen lingering behind you.
“I was...gonna say you can make...you can use my coffee machine,” he said quietly. 
“Okay,” you said quietly. “Jensen.”
“Hm?”
“Stuff is stuff. This isn’t a museum. It’s a home. It’s gonna change over time.”
“I know. It’s just that rug...it is so damn ugly and I hate it,” he said with a smile. “I wanted to get rid of it the day she brought it home.”
“Wives have a way of getting the last word in,” you said. He chuckled and you got out a mug for yourself. “Tell me to shove it if this is too personal but are you sure you want to get back out into the dating world? It’s rough out there.”
“It is. Until it isn’t,” he said.
“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you.”
“Guilty as charged.” He rubbed the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed for a brief moment.
“Women like hopeless romantics,” you said. “Just don’t get taken advantage of for that. There’s some not so nice women out there too.”
“Afraid I’ll fall for some ditz?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think you’d do that. But someone might hurt you and you’ve been through enough. Maybe just...don’t fall in love at first sight or something like that,” you said. “Alright?”
“Never was much good at that,” he said to himself while you grabbed your coffee mug. “You believe in that sort of thing?”
“I’d like to. But you’re more of the expert on falling in love than I am,” you said.
“Maybe it’s not first sight but within a few days, a week, yeah I knew I was in love,” he said.
“Well if that happens again let me know and I’ll make sure this chick is good for you,” you said.
“I didn’t know my nanny came with bodyguard services,” he chuckled.
“That was under special skills on my resume,” you said as you headed over to the door to the balcony. “You should wash up. Don’t want to be late.”
“No I better not be,” he said. He turned to head upstairs, pausing on the first step. “You know, no one’s an expert at falling in love. Even those of us who were once married.”
“Oh don’t be a hopeless romantic for me getting my shit together too. We’ll be here for years,” you laughed. 
“Just sayin’...maybe we’ll both find somebody. Not that we need anyone to be happy but...you know what I mean,” he said. 
“Men don’t really talk about love like that you know.”
“I do,” he said. You smiled and he returned it. 
“That’s why all the good men get taken early, the ones that talk like that,” you said.
“I was older than you when I got married. Maybe I’ll get married again someday. We’re out there. I promise.”
“Go shower,” you said, waving him off. You slipped outside, closing the door behind you. You leaned over the railing with your mug and let out a sigh. “You have to a be a fucking hopeless romantic too don’t you. Fucking perfect at everything.”
You lowered your head and took a deep breath. 
“It’s a crush, it’s a crush,” you said, closing your eyes. “Just a crush. He’s your boss and a widow and he bought a birthday cake for me.”
You opened your eyes and glanced into the mug, taking another deep breath.
“He’s just nice. That’s it. Even if he’s…” you trailed off. You took a long sip of the hot liquid, not caring you were burning your tongue. Jensen was simply a nice person and that was that. You had a crush on the attractive single dad you were nannying for. There was nothing wrong with that and you knew for a fact it’d be gone by the end of the week tops.
“Ow,” you groaned a few days later. You opened your eyes and heard a knock at the door to your suite. “Yeah?”
“You okay in there? I thought I heard a crash,” said Jensen. 
“I’m fine,” you said, sitting up with a grunt, leaning back against your bed. “Shit.”
“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?” he asked again.
“No,” you said with a sigh. “The door’s open.”
You peaked through your open door down the hall, Jensen opening the one to the suite and offering a friendly smile. You nodded and he walked inside, frowning at your cut up knee. 
“I got blood on the rug,” you said. “Do we have bleach?”
“I thought we agreed earlier this week a rug is just a rug,” he said, squatting down and looking at your knee. He looked up and saw your overturned garbage can in your closet where you’d been trying to reorganize a few clothes. “Next time use the step stool in the garage?”
“Yeah,” you said, your face hot. “I’m fine really. Just want to clean up the blood before it sets in.”
“It’s a few drops,” he said, helping you stand with a wince. “You got any first aid stuff?”
“Yeah,” you said, Jensen crossing his arms. “No.”
“Come on,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders and walking you down the hall. “Scraped up knees are my specialty.”
“Jensen,” you said, stopping at the kitchenette island and bending your leg a few times. 
“I’ll be right back,” he said. He left and you hopped over to the couch, stretching your leg out. The bleeding had stopped, just a thin cut on your knee cap where you’d hit it, but you knew you were in for a nasty bruise. He returned with a bottle and cotton ball in one hand, a bandage and ice pack in the other. 
“Sorry,” you said, Jensen setting the items down on the coffee table.
“Why would you apologize for getting hurt?” he said.
“I should have my own first aid supplies,” you said. 
“Ah. So you’re as stubborn as I am when you’re not feeling great,” he said. You looked down at your lap and took a deep breath.
“Am I fired?” you asked. 
“No? Why the fuck would I fire you?” he said. 
“I don’t know,” you said, picking up the bottle of rubbing alcohol.
“Have you been fired for getting hurt before?” he asked, watching you hold the cotton ball against the open bottle top and tip it over, soaking the liquid in. You pretended to not hear him and put the bottle back, wiping the ball over the cut, a deep red mark already on your skin. “Y/N.”
“Yes, I have,” you said. You set the ball on the table and picked up the bandage, trying to angle it over your knee. He rolled his eyes and took it out of your hand, bending down and turning it around, pressing it gently over your skin. 
“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” he said as he looked up at you.
“Do I look like I have an HR department I can go to? They were dicks anyways,” you said.
“If you’re ever hurt, big or small, just tell me,” he said. He rested the ice pack over your knee and you sat back, throwing it up on the couch for you to lay there. “Promise I won’t fire you for it.”
“Well if I can’t do my job I’m not much use to you,” you said.
“Are all wealthy people assholes that act like that?” he asked. You shook your head and smiled. “Good.”
“I’ve nannied for eight different families, nine counting yours. Some were very good people,” you said.
“But you were just the help to them, even the good ones,” he said.
“I am the help. That’s the whole point of me being there,” you said. 
“Do me a favor? Don’t assume just because you’re someone’s employee that they think of you as just the help,” he said, picking up the first aid supplies.
“Sorry.”
“Why do you apologize for…” he said, muttering to himself as you looked down. “If I ever make you feel like that, smack me in the head, alright?”
“Alright,” you said quietly. He nodded and left with the items, returning a moment later with some cleaning spray, ducking into your room for only a moment before exiting.
“It’s all clean,” he said. He lingered at the door and put a hand on it. “Leave that ice pack on for fifteen minutes and pop it back in the freezer. Put it back on for a bit before bed.”
“Thanks,” you said. 
“It’s no problem,” he said. He still lingered and you took a deep breath.
“You should call someone, talk to them,” you said. He looked over his shoulder and you smiled. “You seem like you want to talk to somebody tonight is all.”
“I think I’m gonna go for a drive, maybe stop at a friend’s. The kids are all in bed,” he said. “If that’s cool.”
“Yeah go take a second for yourself,” you said. “I got everything here.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Night, Jensen.”
One Week Later
“Y/N,” said Jensen as you washed your car in the driveway on a Saturday morning. You dropped the soapy sponge in the bucket and straightened yourself out. “Got plans today?”
“Uh, I was gonna run to the grocery store in a minute but other than that, no. Need me to watch the kids?”
“No. We were going out to lunch and then going to a little car show was all and we were wondering if you’d like to join us. Totally up to you. My treat.”
“You don’t want me to watch the kids?” you asked. He laughed and crossed his arms at you. “I’m confused.”
“Do you want to hang out with us today? For fun?” he asked.
“Oh,” you said. “That’s okay. You enjoy your time with the kids.”
“How do I make this clearer,” he said, walking over to you and looking down. “I want you to come with us, as a friend, to do something fun, like friends do. This is not work. Come if you want to.”
“You sure you want me to come?” you asked. He rolled his eyes and plopped his baseball cap on your head as he walked away.
“Yes. And wear sunscreen,” he said. “We’re leaving at eleven thirty.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll see you guys then.”
“There’s something about a burger that’s been cooked in a greasy pop up kitchen that just adds to the flavor,” you said as you took a bite of your cheese burger at the car show.
“It’s probably the grease,” he said, walking one hand on his burger, the other holding Arrow’s hand. She wiped her own little hand on his leg and he sighed as he looked down. “Arrow. I got napkins in my pocket.”
“Oh,” she said, wiping her face against him.
“No one mentions this part,” he chuckled. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulders once he was done with his food, humming as he pushed the stroller with a sleeping Zeppelin inside. 
“Dad, I gotta go to the bathroom,” said JJ. 
“I’ll take her and we can catch up with you guys?” you said. He mouthed a thank you to you as you headed over to the women’s room. You used the bathroom as well, finishing before her and waiting outside for her. “All set?”
“Yeah. Can we get fried dough?” she asked.
“Sure,” you said. You let her lead the way in line and got a plate for the two of you, taking a seat at a picnic table so she could dig in. “Taste yummy?”
“Oh yeah,” she said. “Dad likes fried dough a lot too.”
“Everybody does,” you said, taking a piece off the corner.
“Y/N, you don’t have a mom either right?” she said. “That’s what dad said.”
“Well that’s a funny question. I got a mom and so do you. They just aren’t around anymore is all,” you said. “What’s up?”
“I’m happy you stay with us I guess is all. I know you’re not mom and you work for dad but you kinda are and I like it when dad’s happy again,” she said.
“Me too. You doing okay, kiddo?” you asked. “It’s okay if you still miss your mom.”
“I do but I’m not sad anymore. Dad says when I get real old I can see her again so that’s cool,” she said, taking a big bite.
“It definitely is cool,” you said. “Maybe our mom’s are hanging out right now.”
“You think so?” she asked.
“Maybe. I bet they get up to some fun stuff up there,” you said. 
“Me too,” she said. “Dad’s really happy you came with us. He’s been cranky lately.”
“Your dad’s gonna be just fine,” you said as she finished off her food. “So do you like having a nanny? I know that’s kinda new and funny, huh.”
“Yeah but I really like you being home. Dad gets flustered sometimes.”
“Flustered?” you asked with a little laugh.
“He works on a lot of stuff and he didn’t pick me up on time from school and stuff a few weeks ago. Too many chickens in a basket,” she said.
“Too many eggs in one basket,” you said.
“Isn’t an egg gonna be a chicken though?”
“I...never thought of it that way,” you said. You nearly jumped when you felt some hands on your shoulders but JJ was smiling as Arrow climbed up next to you.
“Ah. I see you ladies found the fried dough. Twins you want some?” asked Jensen.
“Yes please,” they said and he chuckled as he went off to buy some more.
“Look at her,” said Jensen twenty minutes later, pausing at a deep blue Impala, the twins both conked out in their stroller. 
“Isn’t that the same car you have?” you asked, lifting up the brim of your baseball cap to get a better look.
“Mine’s a 67. That’s a 63. I love that color though,” he said. “Blue’s my favorite but it looks good on that car.”
“I think it looks good in black,” you said, walking again when you saw JJ a few cars ahead of the two of you. “Where’d you get your car?”
“Work,” he said with a quick smile, hiding behind his sunglasses and hat. 
“Aren’t you an actor?” you asked.
“You have very obviously never seen an episode of my show,” he chuckled. “Which is totally cool by the way. I drove that car in the show for well over a decade. She’s one of my true loves.”
“Ah, gotcha,” you said. “So you’re a car guy.”
“Kinda. I don’t know everything but I enjoy them. What about you, you like-JJ! Stay closer,” he called out when she kept walking ahead. “So do you like cars?”
“I guess so. This is kinda neat, walking around and looking at the old ones. They had more style back then,” you said, walking past a pair of guys your age, one of them looking you up and down as you went by. “Did that guy-”
“Yup,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder, throwing his arm over yours for a few moments. “Looks like he got the message.”
“Jensen,” you laughed. “I wasn’t offended. It’s not like he was gonna come up and ask for my number.”
“I don’t like the look of him,” he said.
“Neither did I,” you chuckled, Jensen dropping his arm from around you. “You’re that guy friend girls have that will do shit like pretend to be a boyfriend and all that stuff, aren’t you.”
“At your service,” he said with a mini curtesy. You giggled and he straightened up, JJ rushing over.
“Dad can I get an ice cream?” she asked.
“How about some apple slices,” he said, reaching under the stroller and grabbing a cooler. He pulled out a little baggie and handed it to her, JJ shrugging and walking ahead of the stroller again. “Shit, that probably means I can’t get ice cream now too.”
“We can always get some on the way home for later,” you said. “I won’t tell on you.”
“I’m putting this on your performance review,” he said. You shot him a side glance and he smirked. “I’m joking. I don’t want to do that as much as you don’t.”
“Thank you for that,” you said, stopping and looking at a red challenger for a moment.
“You like that one?” he asked.
“It’s nice,” you said before you started walking again. You fixed your hat and caught back up with him, Jensen slowing down as JJ took her time ahead of you. “So I should probably know this but what show were you in where you were driving around a muscle car?”
“You really haven’t looked me up online yet?” he chuckled. You shrugged and he laughed to himself.
“I may have peeked at your IMDB page but that was it. Was it that show you were on a long time? Super something?”
“Supernatural,” he said, a big smile on his face. “Yeah, I drove it for that.”
“Oh yeah, that was the really scary show, wasn’t it,” you said. 
“You’re too sweet,” he said, chuckling to himself. “It’s not that scary. I promise. Give it a try sometime. You might like it.”
“I’m sure someday I will. If I’m brave enough.”
“I think you are,” he said, JJ running up ahead again before he called for her to hang back. He sighed and threw his head back. “It never ends, does it?”
“I’m sure someday when she’s older you won’t have to worry so much.”
“I’m gonna worry about that kid when she’s forty years old,” he said.
“That’s cause you’re a good dad,” you said. 
“You haven’t known me that long,” he said.
“Do you love her? Worry about her?” you asked and he nodded. “Well any dad that does that and tells his kid that someday they’ll get to see their mom again to help her grieve when he well and truly doesn’t know the answer to that...you get the picture Ackles?”
“I could be better,” he said.
“Everyone could be better. They don’t need the best dad ever. They just need the best dad for them and you seem like you’re doing a good job of that from what I’ve seen so far,” you said. “You’re gonna screw up but so does everyone. Try to just enjoy it and not be too hard on yourself.”
“You’ve spent a lot of time with kids haven’t you,” he said.
“I’ve been in the mom role more than once as a nanny,” you said. You kicked at the dirt and shrugged. “It’s how I know the difference Jensen. You don’t need me or want me to be their mother. You just need help sometimes. That’s an important difference. Asking for help, especially when you don’t want it but need it, that’s a good dad move.”
He was quiet as he walked, stopping at a yellow mustang. He stared for a moment and swallowed. 
“Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot. Really.”
“Come on dad,” you said, walking away and up towards where JJ was. “Let’s go see if we can find one this one’s gonna be asking for on her sixteenth birthday.”
“Those three are finally down and out for the count,” said Jensen as he walked downstairs to catch you in the kitchen wiping up the pan from dinner. “Thanks for eating with us tonight.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” you said, putting the pan away. He looked out the back window and bit his bottom lip. “Everything alright?”
“You’re not like, hanging out with us cause you think you have to right?” he asked.
“Trust me. If I didn’t want to, I’d be down in my room,” you said. “Besides, I’ve thought about it and you know what, why don’t you set me up with that friend of yours.”
“Really?” he asked, a little alarmed.
“Why not? The age thing doesn’t bother me at all. Unless you think it’d be a problem for him?”
“No, he doesn’t really care about that sort of thing. I think he’d prefer it’s just someone he clicked with, had a connection, you know?” he said.
“Perfect. Why don’t you set us up for next Saturday night then?” you asked.
“I need you to watch the kids next Saturday night. I have-”
“The gala. Sorry, I forgot. Um, just, I’m free whenever. You know my schedule so you can set something up and just let me know?” you said. He smiled and nodded. As you were starting to leave he grunted. “Yeah?”
“I have some friends coming over for a drink in a bit. Small backyard fire. Whiskey and smores. You’re welcome to join.”
“Jensen. You’re not asking because you feel like you have to right?”
“No, not at all. I like hanging out with you. I’m sure whatever you’re binging on TV will be there if we bore you too much,” he said.
“Alright. I’ll be out in half an hour or so. Just wanted to freshen up from the show earlier,” you said. You ducked back to your room, taking a quick shower and changing into some leggings and a flannel. By the time you were out you could hear a slight mumbling and walked downstairs, catching Jensen with some guys on the patio pouring some drinks.
“Hey,” said Jensen when you stepped out of the slider door. “Guys this is Y/N.”
“Ah we get to meet the world’s best nanny,” said the tallest one. “I’m Jared.”
“Rich.”
“Rob.”
“Hi!” said a redhead that slipped out of the door behind you. “I’m Ruth.”
“Y/N. Your hair is kinda amazing by the way,” you said.
“This is what happens when you invite the girls,” said Rich.
“Normally we just talk about Jared’s hair,” chuckled Jensen. You grabbed a chair and helped gather up some snacks to bring over to his firepit, Ruth hanging back to help you.
“Jensen said you live here with him and the munchkins?”
“Yeah. He works so much it makes things easier on him. Are you an actress?” you asked.
“We all are. Only Jared lives close by. The rest of us haven’t been down here since…” she said and you nodded. “I really am happy you’re here. It’s nice to see a smile on our boys face again.”
“He’s a great boss. He’s very kind. We’re becoming friends,” you said. “He’s trying to set me up with his friend actually.”
“Oh which one?”
“Dunno. He just said he’s 42, an actor and is single. Age stuff doesn’t bother me.”
“Rob is a bit older than myself. It really doesn’t matter in the slightest, especially when you’re a little older,” she said. “Jensen says you’re great with the kids.”
“They’re pretty easy going. Normally the parents are the hard part of my job but he’s been great. He really loves his kids,” you said.
“Yes he certainly does,” she said.
By the end of the night you found yourself really enjoying Jensen’s friends. It was clear they cared for him at more than a surface level, especially Jared. You’d heard Jensen speak to him on the phone a few times and call him his brother but it really was apparent they had a special bond that went beyond a typical friendship.
“I’ll catch you guys for brunch before you head home,” said Jensen, waving night to them all as you helped pick up. You were just about finished and heading back for your room when Jensen caught you in the kitchen. “You have fun tonight?”
“Yeah. Your friends are great,” you said, a small pair of footsteps coming down the stairs. You both turned and saw Zeppelin there with tears in his eyes.
“What’s wrong, honey?” asked Jensen as he walked over and squatted down.
“I had a bad dream and I want mommy but she’s gone,” he whined. Jensen instantly scooped him up and held onto him tight, kissing his head. “I want mommy.”
“I want mommy too, baby,” said Jensen quietly. You mouthed go and he nodded, taking Zeppelin upstairs while you finished cleaning up. 
You got up early the next morning and made a big batch of chocolate chip pancakes, plenty leftover for breakfast the next morning. Jensen padded over from the hall where you knew the home gym was, sweaty and tired but a smile came onto his face when he saw you.
“What’s all this,” he asked, getting a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Chocolate chip pancakes make everything better,” you said. He put a few on a plate for himself and sat down at the counter as you made up some more, stealing a few for yourself.
“These are delicious,” he said. You stored away some for when the kids got up, making up your own plate before you dug in. “Sorry about last night. I feel like I ruined the fun.”
“Not at all. He’s a toddler. I literally can’t imagine being in your position. I’d have fallen apart instantly,” you said.
“No you wouldn’t. You care about those kids,” he said. “You push on for them.”
“I know it’s not really my place to say so but-”
“Y/N. I’d prefer if you just talk to me like a friend, really,” he said.
“You made it sound like you were ready to try dating again. Last night you seemed kind of...maybe not so ready.”
“I’m ready. I will always miss her. I’ll always love her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love anyone else ever again like that too, you know? I don’t believe there is a limit on how much love a person can give,” he said.
“Your wife was a very lucky woman,” you said.
“I was lucky. She was patient with me,” he chuckled. “You guys would have gotten along really well.”
“Can I offer a bit of advice?” you asked.
“What’s that?”
“Keep telling your kids about her, all throughout their lives. They’ll still get to know her that way, you know?” you said. “Tell your future girlfriend too. That’s how you’ll know if they’re a good one for you.”
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“You’re a kind soul. I would expect your partner would be as well,” you said.
“I hope so. Mine kinda has a permanent handle with care warning label on it,” he chuckled.
“I don’t think so. Just need somebody that understands, not try to fix you. There’s nothing wrong with you in the first place,” you said, taking a bite of your pancake.
“Thanks, kiddo,” he said.
“You’re not that much older, bucko,” you chuckled.
“Nah, I’m keeping kiddo,” he laughed. “You good to watch the kids for a few hours around eleven?”
“Sounds good. Go have a mimosa with your friends for me,” you said.
“Will do, Y/N. Will do.”
______
A/N: Read Part 3 here!
624 notes · View notes
fandom-imagines · 3 years
Text
Escape Artists
Fandom: Halloween/Slashers
Pairing: Michael Myers X Reader
Warnings: Murder, mention of parental abuse, lightly-written smut (not too descriptive).
Words: 2.4k
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He had seen her around the hospital numerous times. She was always sat surrounded by those weird beads that she made designs with, only to have to hand them to one of the nurses who always seemed glad to iron the pattern for her.
Despite having seen her and observed her, Michael had never actually interacted with the girl. Sure, she was interesting, seemingly too innocent to be sat in Smiths Groves, but he wouldn’t talk to her; he wouldn’t talk to anybody. This was how he lived. Day in, day out. Never talking to a soul and nobody willingly talking to him. That was how Michael liked it which is why he couldn’t help but be irritated by the person who was interrupting his mealtime.
“Hi,” in front of Michael stood the bead girl, nervously fiddling with her fingers. “I-I made this for you.” Before he knew it, Michaels hand now held a beaded blushing panda.
He was tempted to snap the poor thing in half, and he would have had he not felt a piece of paper stuck to the back with the crappy tape the sanitorium provides.
“Don’t look yet, look when you’re alone.” She said, leaving with a short nod.
He listened to her words, going to the bathroom, the one place he was allowed to be alone, to read whatever note was scribbled on the paper.
Do you want to escape with me, Michael?
Confusion overtook his mind, the creaking of the tiled walls being the only thing he could fully register.
Not only did she know his name, but she also wanted to escape with him?
Weirdo.
He simply shrugged it off.
*
“Morning, Y/N,” a kind nurse awoke the young girl from her peaceful slumber, something that was rare for her. “Here is your medicine.”
“Thank you, Nurse Green.”
Her small hands grasped the bottle of water they provided her each morning, spare hand now filled with the medication she took daily before gulping down all nine of them with one mouthful of water.
Yesterdays interaction with Michael still plagued her mind.
She knew what he had done to his sister, everybody did, but still he was the only person she somewhat trusted her. Not that she had ever actually spoke to him of course, even though she was exceptionally kind to all those on the ward. She simply hoped he had read the note.
*
Lunchtime came round quite quickly, Y/N refusing to part with her beads and Michael nowhere to be seen, something that wasn’t uncommon.
Her fingers picked out another green bead to add to her new creation, a soft smile gracing her lips as she fit the final bead into the pattern, creating an amazing leaf. She looked up with a smile on her face, ready to show the nurse only to be met with Michael face, head tilted to the side.
“Oh,” she spoke quietly, evidently shocked at the older boy’s presence. “Hi, Michael.” Her kindness didn’t falter however, the shocked look on her face quickly forming back into the smile she wore previously.
Michaels hand reached out to grab the box of beads, pulling it towards him along with a square pegboard. He quickly got to work making a pattern, something that was done in mere minutes, pushing it back towards Y/N before leaving, not sparing her a single glance as he went back to his room.
Confused, Y/N pulled the board towards her. On it was a perfectly designed tombstone, yet it was masked as a grey brick, something Michael knew the nurses wouldn’t pick up on, only someone that was looking or expecting it would. However, beneath the board was a small slip of paper, something that caused her Y/E/C orbs to widen, quickly yet carefully sliding the paper into the pocket of her knitted sweatshirt.
*
“He what?” Loomis’s voice was loud, booming throughout the office. “He interacted with another patient?”
The nurses were unable to tell whether he was scared or happy at this news.
Michael had never interacted with another patient before, never interacted with anyone at all so this was a big surprise to him.
“Leave this to me,”
*
Yes.
This one word was floating around Y/N’s mind for the entire night.
He wants to escape with her? Michael Myers wants to escape with her? It was something she could not refuse, so she got to writing.
*
Over the following months the two shared notes through the beads they would both make. Nobody had spotted this yet, the scheme too smart for the nurses and doctors alike at Smiths Grove. Loomis had been keeping a close eye on the pair, looking for something significant that he could use against Michael but there was nothing yet, nothing at all.
The girl was sat at her usual table, alone for once which was uncommon for her. She wouldn’t have been alone had she not told the usual people that she wished to be alone today.
She was waiting.
Waiting for Michael.
A small sense of glee filled her chest when she noticed him walk into the cafeteria, a small smile following suite. The smile only dropped when he ignored her presence, walking towards where he usually sat. He must have sensed her gaze, glancing up to catch her sight before glancing at the chair opposite him, a silent hint for her to come over which she gladly did.
“Hi,”
Michael didn’t give her a verbal response, something she was used to by now, he instead looked towards her hands that held her most recent pattern: a pink milk carton. She eagerly passed it to him, watching him closely for any sign of reaction as he observed it, the two unaware that somebody else was also watching him.
*
“I want you to cut all communication between Michael and Y/N,” Loomis seemed to have come up with a plan of his own. “We’ll see how he reacts to that.”
“Yes, Dr Loomis.”
*
Y/N sat at the desk in her room, spinning the board around the wood with her finger.
“Why am I stuck in here?” Her tone expressed how fed up she was of being confined her for the entire day. “I’m bored.”
“Why don’t you make something?”
“Why am I here?”
“A doctor wants to see you.”
“I’ve seen all the doctors. Which one?”
“Dr Loomis.”
Oh, so it worked, good to know.
*
A few hours later she was seated on her bed, legs crossed with her pigtails falling down to her knee.
“We’ve met before, Y/N. After you were first sent here.” Loomis did his best to be friendly, hiding the burning curiosity and urge to ask her everything he wanted in one go.
“Yes, Dr Loomis.” Her tone was friendly, also forced.
She was waiting. Waiting for-
An excruciating loud beep blared throughout the entire ward, signalling a door had been opened by one of the patients.
Loomis’s eyes widened, worried that it was Michael who had escaped. He didn’t even bother to say goodbye before rushing off, forgetting to lock the door on the way out, something the pair had planned.
*
Y/N had half expected their planned escape car to be gone by the time she had finished running to the door, Michael probably having using her to escape. Weirdly enough, he was sat there waiting for her, something that made her smile as she hopped into the car.
Their plan, something that had been in the works for an insane amount of time, had worked. Every part of it had gone how they had planned.
“Thank you,” Y/N’s voice was as soft as always, glancing at Michael whose eyes were focused on the road, seemingly dismissing her appreciation.
He wasn’t however. He was silently grateful for her. She had stuck by him, his quiet and rude self. She knew what he had done and had still accepted him, he could see it in her face. He assumed she was simply in for depression or something of the sort, uncaring as to why because all he cared about was leaving and finishing what he had started, but something about her drew him in and he began getting somewhat attached to the girl.
*
The pair drove for hours, having to stop by to get gas before pulling into an abandoned place far away from the main road so that nobody could find them.
“Do you want a drink?” Michael gave her a confused look as she sat on the car, hand stretched out to hand him a bottle. “It’s weird you know,” she continued speaking after he took the bottle from her hand and sat beside her, “I never thought I’d make it to adulthood.”
This further proved his point of her having depression.
“Not that I’m depressed or suicidal or anything. I just thought I’d die by now.” This simply confused Michael. If she wasn’t in there for depression, what was she in for?
The nights sky hung over the pair, stars being one of the only things lighting the place, supported by the car’s lights.
Y/N seemed to sense his confusion.
“Oh, you don’t know what I’m in for? Well, was in for.” Michael simply shook his head.
“I killed someone. My dad. He used to hurt me, physically, mentally, emotionally and a few other things. My mother just watched it all happen, so I tried to kill her as well but she got away and I was dragged there.”
Michael nodded as to show that he understood.
“It’s weird. When I was younger, I always thought I’d be a popular eighteen-year-old with a boyfriend, a lot of friends and all that stuff. I never thought I’d be here,” her gaze fell on Michael, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if I am a virgin.” Y/N made sure to finish her sentence off with a joke, hoping to ease the tension she felt whilst expressing her emotions whilst continuing to stare up at the sky, oblivious to the thoughts running through Michaels head, his face not showing any signs either.
Y/N jumped at the cold sensation of Michaels hand touching her bare thigh, goosebumps rising beneath her dress. “Michael?” She turned to face the unmasked man, only to be pushed to lean against the back of the car with attempted gentleness. “Michael?” She repeated, growing even more confused as he lifted himself over her, able to feel her heart pound.
She didn’t fear him, she had never feared him; he’d never given her a reason. Sure he could be rude towards her, but never fear-inducing, never to her.
“Michael?”
Her words were silenced as Michaels body crawled onto her own, his chest pressed against hers, both hearts racing, despite Michael’s calm composure and Y/N’s confused look. Her eyes widened as she felt Michaels lips against her neck, roughly sucking with such force that she knew it would leave a mark.
A soft moan left her lips when Michael’s hand wandered down to her chest, lightly toying with her nipples before grabbing her breast, massaging it as he did so. The moans that left her lips simply increased Michael’s urges, his desires; he wanted her, and it seemed like she wanted him too.
“Michael-“she murmured, fingers looping themselves in the strands of his hair as he nipped at her skin.
Her free hand ran down his front, searching for his clothed erection which she soon founds, enjoying the breathy moan that Michael made as she slid her hand into his pants. It was quiet, but not quiet enough. Michael’s own hand reached into her own panties, finger soaking up the wetness that had formed at his touch, something that almost made him smirk.
Another moan fell from Y/N’s lips as Michael’s fingers began to explore, the tightness she felt was almost too tight, yet Michael was surprisingly gentle considering who he was. This time Michael couldn’t resist his smirk, being thankful for the fact that his face was buried into the crook of her neck, marking her as his and his only.
Her grip on his hair tightened as he slipped another finger inside of her, giving her a moment to adjust before slowly moving. It wasn’t long before pleasure began to consume her, grip tightening on his hair further as she neared her end.
“M-Michael,” she moaned. “I want you,”
He seemed happy to comply, fingers leaving her heat to unclothe his member. He waited for a moment, searching Y/N’s eyes for any sort of hesitation before sliding in, giving her time to adjust.
“I’m ready, you can move.”
His movements were slow to begin with, giving it his best attempt at not hurting her, something that was incredibly hard for his rough self, but self-restraint can be a magical thing. It wasn’t until the word ‘more’ left her lips that he finally increased his movements.
The cold of the cars metal caused shivers to run down Y/N’s spine, made worse by Michael’s cold hands running across her, now bare, body as moans filled the air.
“I-I’m close,”
Her words only increased his movements more, desperate to reach both their ends. Michael’s hand moved down to her clit, harshly rubbing in hopes that in would held her meet her own release, which it did and she came with one final moan, her sudden tightness triggering Michael’s own orgasm as he came inside of her, their juices mixing together.
Cheeks flushed, both Y/N and Michael wordlessly laid against the car’s windscreen. Deciding to test the waters, Y/N leant herself against Michael’s shoulder, silently pleased when he showed no sign of rejection.
He was surprisingly warm, heating up her cold body in the cool night’s air; she never expected him to be so warm. She lightly wrapped her hand around his upper arm, snuggling herself into his shoulder before falling asleep.
Michael stared at the sleeping girl, confused and shocked at how she had so much trust in him, despite what he had done. It was oddly reassuring to him. Once certain she was asleep, he raised his hand to move a stray strand of hair from her face before falling asleep himself.
“Goodnight, Y/N,”
942 notes · View notes
Text
a kiss from the moon | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: All these years, all these summers, Jeon Jungkook has loved you. His problem? You have no idea. Mostly because he has always said it far too platonically and thrown up in your lap after saying it. Drunk. Fuck. Oh, yeah, and you're also Park Jimin's best friend since preschool. Shit.
warnings: language; alcohol consumption; pining; JK gets distracted by (your) tits during his quest, typical; non-idol!BTS - purple-haired!Jungkook x sleepy af, noona!reader, ft Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung radiating big soulmate energy; childhood friends-to-lovers
yes, it's JK from the 'Butter' beach photos
--
“I love you!”
You lifted your head out of the mountain of pillows, groggy and hazy, squinting at the moonlight filtering through the floating curtains. The night breeze was warm, drifting in softly with the low hum of cicadas. But what was that other sound? That other sound was familiar, wasn’t it?
You heard your name being shouted, followed by, “Wake up!”
You made a face and stumbled out of the bed, sticking your head out of your bedroom window, your own hair flying back and smacking you in the face.
“Yah! Jeon Jungkook, are you trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood?!”
“Get down here!”
You put on your best disgruntled expression and peered down at the form on your front lawn, shoving your own hair aside.
“What are you going on about?” you muttered, seeing Jeon Jungkook looking up at you, puffing his cheeks, long wet purple hair fading to gray because of the chlorine from swimming all night at that party Park Jimin had invited you to earlier today, to which you had responded, no thanks, I’m going to sleep all day, I worked three double shifts in a row and I have zero desire to be flung into your family’s swimming pool at this time, but I will acknowledge that your offer is very generous, and then promptly passing out for a good – you glanced at your phone with the pink bunny case Jungkook had given you two summers ago – ten hours and it was still not enough for you to comprehend why your best friend’s best friend was standing on your front lawn yelling at your parents’ house that you were watching for a month while they were in Italy getting drunk on far too expensive wine and eating cheese they probably couldn’t pronounce.
Jungkook was shirtless, clad only in orange swim shorts and sandals like a fucking hooligan. He was clutching a plastic red Solo cup and he threw it at the house, yelling your name again.
“Oh my fucking God, don’t litter, you idiot!” you bellowed back, throwing yourself away from the windowsill and crawling on the floor to your bedroom door like the evolution of mankind, making it from all fours to two legs by the time you got to the stairs – good thing too, you might have broken your neck if you were still disoriented – and you dragged yourself downstairs, yanking your white slip dress straight. Not your choice of pajamas. Your mom’s, who told you to be more ladylike, whatever the fuck that meant, and who also informed you in the same breath that it was your only choice of pajamas since they donated all your clothes from high school.
Awesome.
You go to university and your parents yeet all evidence that they had a child and go vacationing.
Good for them.
You wrenched your front door open and shoved your feet into your dad’s giant brown sandals and clapped your way over to the pink-faced, mildly drunk, shirtless man in swimming trunks on your front lawn.
“It’s two in the morning. Why are you standing here drunk and professing your love like some kind of deranged Romeo?” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Why aren’t you at Jimin’s?” You spied the red Solo cup and picked it up, whipping your head back to Jeon Jungkook.
He was staring at you with his mouth open.
Charming.
He didn’t say anything for a good ten seconds.
“Alright, fine, let me call my loser of a best friend and tell him to pick up his loser of a best friend, so I can go back to sleep,” you muttered, about to turn around.
Jungkook seemed to sputter back to life. “Wait, um, noona–”
“He speaks! He’s not dead.”
“A… Ah… Um…”
You squinted at him and reached up to knock the side of his head. “Hello? Anyone in there?”
Jungkook blurted out, “I love you.”
His breath smelled a lot like alcohol.
“Yeah, I got that. You also said that when I got you through your Chemistry and World History exams. Both times. You also say that to like, what, six of your guy friends? Don’t get me started on the amount of times you’ve said it and thrown up in my lap right after. Don’t do that this time,” you added sternly, prodding at his chest. “I’ve got one set of pajamas because my mom forgets that human beings change clothes, so throw up on the grass.”
“Uh… that’s pajamas…?”
“Lady pajamas,” you grumbled sarcastically, lifting the lid and chucking the crumpled Solo cup into your parents’ trash can. “Since I’m not lady enough apparently according to my mom, even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure giant band t-shirts are completely unisex but, whatever, it’s just a dress, not a big deal.”
“Um.”
You looked at Jungkook, who looked back at you, who put your hands up and gestured him to say something, who in response rose his hands and flapped them in confusion, giving you absolutely zero helpful communication. The movement reminded you he had gotten his right arm and hand tattooed in the last couple years, the black ink standing out against tan skin. You hadn’t seen him too many times during your university years, too busy completing research papers and staying late nights in laboratories, only to now end up working on hospital software and sitting on your ass all day. Life, eh? These past three days were spent on working through bugs for the next software update and you had maybe lost all social skills as you attempted to unravel lines of code that you stared at for forty-eight out of the past seventy-two hours.
Fun!
“Do you need a cookie? A shower? The Bible?” you offered, waving your hands. “Maybe tell me why you’re here, yes?”
He was staring and you realized you were slightly bent over in your gesture, your breasts firmly pressed into the cups of the slip dress. You straightened and Jungkook’s wide dark brown eyes went back to your face.
“I… I didn’t realize you had come back, noona.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I told Jimin last week. He said he was hanging out with you and Taehyung. I figured he’d just tell you guys then.”
Jungkook shook his head quickly, gray-purple hair flying about. He pointed to the left, where Jimin’s house was several blocks over. “He only mentioned it just now, when he was throwing up in the bathroom from doing eight shots in a row because Taehyungie dared him.”
“…. Maybe he needs the Bible…” you muttered, shaking your head.
Then the realization hit you.
“Did you walk here from Jimin’s and straight up abandon the party?”
Jungkook tilted his head and thought about it. “Yeah.”
You looked around to find the camera and see if you were being pranked, but there was no camera because this life wasn’t purely for entertainment, right? Nah, this wasn’t The Matrix.
Mhm.
“Hah, well, what’s wrong? Are you upset I didn’t go to the party or something? I had three double-shifts this week, I wasn’t going to be any fun passed out before actually drinking–”
“Yoongi-hyung was passed out before drinking.”
“In some ways, I swear that guy and I are the same person,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t go and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I really banked on Jimin not being an airhead, but once again he is, so maybe I should reconsider him as my best friend…”
“Noona, I…”
You looked up from your mental consideration of Park Jimin’s pros and cons, the first pro being he punched that ex of yours that cheated on you with some Tinder hookup and that was already enough to stop contemplating, so you blinked at Jungkook curiously, looking into wide brown eyes, long strands of ash-purple floating around his handsome face from the night breeze, brushing against his parted lips, highlighting the mole underneath them, placed perfectly in the center like a kiss from the moon itself.
“Can I take a shower and sleep it off here?”
You tilted your head. “Yeah, sure. You can borrow my dad’s clothes. You should call Jimin though. You don’t want him to panic that he lost you.”
“Y… Yeah, okay…”
-
Jeon Jungkook really thought he could say it this time.
Collected all his courage and ran, ran as fast as he could, couldn’t believe Jimin had neglected to say she was coming home over the summer for more than a day, days without her reminding Jungkook that he was a coward for not saying it when he could have, having lost his most important person in the world because he was too afraid of telling Park Jimin that he was in love with his best friend.
He remembered that smile wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, sitting on Jimin’s bedroom floor, crushing all of them at UNO and cackling as Jimin blew up for ending up in last place for the third time in a row, yelling that the game was rigged, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her tonight.
And he didn’t.
He remembered her saying to Taehyung that she just wasn’t into girly things. They were having this argument over pizza and Taehyung was waving his around saying she should at least try a dress on every once in a while, never know, might actually like it, and her rolling her eyes as she shot back that she didn’t have to do anything just because it was stereotypical for her gender. Taehyung told her to stop using big words and waved his hands, accidentally flinging his pizza slice into her lap, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her after we clean up.
And he didn’t.
He remembered seeing her prepare to leave for university once again, holding a small package from the internet and handing it to her, a small but practical belated birthday gift, both of them surprised when she opened it, not the matte black phone case he had ordered, but somehow mixed up with a pink bunny phone case that had no business being owned by someone who didn’t like girly things.
“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t order this–”
And she laughed, shaking her head. “That’s okay, I gotta go, thanks anyway, Jungkook!”
The years went by and every year Jungkook told himself, this is the one, and every year he just couldn’t say it.
He thought he could say it now, drunk and furious at Jimin for not preparing him for this moment, but on his way here Jungkook figured that perhaps this was preferred, that maybe it was better that he couldn’t sit around nervously overthinking what to say.
But, of course, the problem was…
He had already said it in a platonic way.
Shit.
He really fucked himself throughout the years.
Jungkook sighed, now wearing borrowed clothes, holding the note of her handwriting as he rubbed his hair with the towel.
I washed your shorts and they’re hang-drying now. You can sleep in the guest room. I left a glass of water and some hangover meds. If you need anything, I’ll be asleep but you can attempt to wake the dead if you want.
He walked down the hall, towel around his shoulders. Her bedroom door was open. He stood outside the entrance, sighing, seeing her sleeping form and her bedside table, her phone sitting on the charger.
His breath caught in his throat as he recognized that pink bunny phone case.
-
“Where’s Jungkook?”
“Probably at her parents’ place, confessing his love,” Kim Taehyung snickered, picking up the beer bottles left behind next to the pool.
“Hah, of course he would leave without cleaning up,” Park Jimin grumbled, pushing the recycling bin along as Taehyung tossed each bottle inside.
“You think he’s gonna tell her?”
“He didn’t even tell me,” Jimin muttered, shoving used napkins into the bag hanging off the side of the recycling bin that he was going to toss into the trash later. “I had to find out from you. I think he’s hopeless. Why does he like her anyway? She’s fun to be around, yeah, she’s good at school, yeah, knows a lot of random facts, yeah, if you get into philosophy with her like Namjoon-hyung does, you begin to question humanity and reality, yeah, but other than that…”
“You hitting on your best friend, dude?”
“I mean, she’s kinda hot, she wouldn’t say no to me.”
Taehyung snorted.
Jimin smacked him in the ass with the recycling bin.
“Anyway, he’s probably just standing in her bedroom creepily watching her sleeping.”
-
Jungkook stared down at her sleeping form.
He looked up, looking out the window into the late, late night. He was tired, and yet he couldn’t sleep, too busy wondering.
I don’t deserve her if I’m not brave enough to say it.
“Jungkook?”
-
You squinted at the large form in your bedroom.
“Why are you just staring moodily out the window?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you hungry? I can make you a snack…”
“Noona, do you know what the worst feeling in the world is?” he asked softly, still looking out into the warm night.
You grunted and scrunched up your face. “Stepping on a Lego?”
You heard Jungkook laugh and you smiled a little despite your groggy state, hearing a little bit of his old self, the younger Jungkook hanging out with you, Jimin, and, later, Taehyung, the four of you getting up to no good. Somehow, in the past few years, he had gotten quieter and quieter, at least around you, but then again you only came home to visit for a day or two before going back to university.
“Have you ever been in love, noona?”
“Yeah, with the red bean popsicles they used to sell at the ice cream trucks, but then they stopped, those assholes, I’ve never been so heartbroken in my life,” you grumbled, remembering the day where the ice cream man told you they were sold out and your young teenage heart shattering.
“I love you, you know.”
Was this a fever dream? Why did he keep repeating himself? You looked over to his back, still looking outside onto the street, the street where you all used to run and laugh every summer, pretending you were surviving in the wild and not in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, sitting around sipping lemonade and complaining about the heat even though you all could have gone inside, lighting sparklers at night and seeing whose would last the longest even though such a thing was only based on chance anyway.
“Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” he added quietly.
“The worst thing I’ve ever heard was accidentally hearing Jimin jacking off. Twice.”
Jungkook finally turned around, giving you a disgusted look. “What?”
You placed a hand on your face and sighed heavily, trying not to remember. “For some reason he thinks the bathroom isn’t echoey or something, like, at least do it in the shower, so the water masks the sound…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, I would much rather hear you say you have love for me than listening to Jimin getting off.”
“I don’t have love for you.”
You raised your hand from your face and shifted your gaze to him, half-smile lingering on your lips from remembering Jimin’s carelessness. You made eye contact the second the words left his mouth, those brown eyes shrouded in shadows, but still so clear, a little helpless, a little sad.
“I’m in love with you,” Jungkook whispered softly.
Your eyes widened.
A soft breeze swept through the window, lifting the purple-gray strands from Jungkook’s face, revealing his lost, desolate expression.
The cicadas hummed.
A car alarm honked loudly, screeching through the night.
Both you and Jungkook jerked to face the window. You bolted out of bed and you both threw your hands onto the edge of the window, yanking it shut, wincing at the loud noise.
“Ah, jeez… what the hell…?” you groaned, slumping to the ground.
“What’s with people…?” Jungkook muttered, falling to the floor beside you, yanking the towel off his shoulders.
-
“Fuck, I pressed the wrong button!”
“Taehyung, what the hell, turn it off!”
“I was just trying to put the tangerines your parents gave me in my car!”
“I don’t care what you were doing, turn it off!”
-
“Anyway, sorry, you were saying something important and you got interrupted by some dumbass,” you sighed, nudging Jungkook with your shoulder.
“Uh… well, that was it…”
You blinked at him, tilting your head. “What, that you’re in love with me?”
“Y… Yeah?”
You blinked some more.
“Not the, want to go to the arcade and see who can get the highest score in PAC-MAN or go watch shitty action movies and rate the unrealistic plot lines or dare each other to eat whatever expired delicacy is in Taehyung’s fridge, kind of love?”
Jungkook made a repulsed face. “I regret eating that tofu. Don’t think I can ever look at uncooked tofu without gagging a little now…”
You leaned over and caught his eye.
“Do you mean the… want to date and get married and make babies, kind of love?”
His lips parted and the moonlight lit the small mole placed perfectly underneath his lower lip.
A delicate kiss from the moon itself.
Then you realized he was staring at your tits.
You yanked the neckline up a little and Jungkook started, looking back up at you with wide eyes.
“Sorry, I’m just not used to you in a dress, sorry, I’m being really rude–”
“It assures me that you’re at least interested in the making babies part,” you chuckled.
His ears turned red and he reached up to cover them, trying not to look down. “S… Sorry…”
“So…?”
He chewed on his lip, messing with his earrings with his fingertips. “Um… yeah, that kind of love. The latter kind.”
You lowered your hand. “You’re not messing with me, right? I swear, if this is one of Taehyung’s elaborate ideas to mess with me, I’m going to ki–”
Jungkook shook his head quickly, purple hair flying about. “I’m not joking around. I wanted to tell you for a long, long time, but…” His eyes darted about, panicking a little, before looking back to you helplessly. “You’re Jimin’s best friend, besides Taehyung, and what if… what if you thought I was gross or something and then I don’t think I could hang out with you guys anymore, but then you went to that prestigious university far away and I thought, I’m so stupid, I should have said something, anything, but every time I could even think about it, I didn’t know what to say, nothing seemed right…”
He let out a big sigh and tapped his head against the windowsill, closing his eyes.
“Also, I said it before and threw up in your lap right after, so that kinda fucked me up.”
“Can’t say I was really feeling the romance, yeah.”
He groaned and covered his face with his hands.
“I’d date you though. For real.”
Jungkook removed his hands and blinked at you. “What?”
You chuckled. “Why are you acting so surprised? I’m not going to date Jimin, blergh, I’ve known that guy since I was in preschool. I’m not dating Taehyung, I’m pretty sure he’s on a different brainwave than other human beings.”
You smiled at him and turned around to pick up your phone, holding it up.
“I don’t like girly things or cute things very much, but I kept your gift because it was from you and, funnily enough, I think it made me realize that I was rejecting femininity because society puts such a negative connotation on things young women like and because my friends growing up were primarily male, thus I wanted to seem cool or relatable so I rejected stereotypically feminine concepts…”
“… What?”
Now it was a confused what.
“Uh, never mind,” you laughed awkwardly, putting your phone back on your nightstand. “Anyway, Jungkook, you made me realize things about myself, and I love being around you, but I thought a handsome guy like you would want to date a pretty girl, and I’m not really that.”
Jungkook furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? You’re the prettiest girl in the world. No one could ever be prettier than you.”
You felt your neck heat. “Yo, don’t inflate my ego when it’s not the truth,” you chuckled sheepishly, waving a hand. “You’ve been drinking anyway. Alcohol makes everyone prettier.”
“It’s the truth.”
Was he drunk or were you drunk? Why was Jeon Jungkook getting closer?
“Would you really date me?”
You stared into those chocolate eyes and smiled.
“Yes, I would.”
And you leaned forward and kissed him.
His eyes widened, staring at you and you closed your eyes, pressing your lips to his, inhaling his scent, memories of hot summers and mirthful laughter filling your head, standing beside Jungkook and kicking Jimin and Taehyung’s ass at table tennis even though Jungkook was doing most of the work, finishing a movie together after Jimin and Taehyung had passed out on the couch on top of each other and talking excitedly about it until you both fall asleep, getting lamb skewers after Jimin and Taehyung went off to eat ramen in a huff, unable to agree on the same meal as a foursome, but it was fine, no, better than fine, perfect even.
Because you were with Jungkook.
You broke the kiss and opened your eyes, smiling at him.
He blinked slowly, looking down at you.
“Noona…”
His hand raised, fingers spreading out longingly. You quickly reached up and pushed it back down.
“Jungkook, I swear, I do want to touch you in a less than holy way, but maybe not when you’re wearing my dad’s clothes, including his underwear, because that’s really fucking weird.”
Jungkook looked down at the brown t-shirt and beige shorts. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”
“You know, come to think of it, I feel like Taehyung has slowly stolen Jimin from me over the years, so maybe this was fated…” you mumbled, remembering at the moments you had shared with Jungkook were because your other two friends had abandoned you.
“I feel you, sometimes I feel like a third wheel…”
-
“I’m so sleepy.”
“I’ll tuck you in first, but I’m going to get us some water so we don’t die tomorrow morning.”
“Ugh, Jimin, bring another pillow please.”
“Hah, fine, but you’re buying breakfast tomorrow…”
--
masterpost
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delimeful · 3 years
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you cant go back (2)
warnings: fear, miscommunication, guilt, mentions of theoretical gore/injury, dehumanization, referring to a person as 'it', general angst
-
For the fourth day in a row, Lady Macbeth had spurned him.
Roman frowned, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his head and tossing it over the back of a kitchen chair.
Lady was old, smug, and occasionally very cranky, but she wasn’t deaf like Ophelia-- she always came prancing over once she heard his keys rattling in the lock, delighted at the opportunity to smear cat hair all over his pants and get her claws stuck in his shoelaces.
Yet here he stood, catless.
For the past few days, too, she hadn’t been in the house at all when he got home. He’d been downright worried that first day, uneasy until she strolled back in at dusk.
They had an expansive backyard that their younger cats took delight in frolicking in, but their second-oldest cat was a rare visitor to the outdoors. Lady was first and foremost a homebody, and she preferred a warm body to sit on. Their squishy heat-generating human bodies were the only reason she hadn’t assassinated them all in their sleep by now, according to--
Roman cut the thought off sharply, feeling familiar grief pit up in his throat. He shook his head, the motion harsh enough to make his neck twinge. There was no time for standing about and pondering! He had a cat to locate!
A determined jut to his chin, he grabbed what supplies he would need for this perilous journey-- cat treats, a catnip toy, even a tempting cardboard box-- and strode confidently out the backdoor.
For the next half-hour, he wandered around the acres of their property, greeting each of the goats and chickens by name as he checked all the most common cat hidey-holes.
He’d almost given up by the time he stumbled across the old barn, pant legs covered in burrs and the beginnings of a sunburn across the back of his neck. Whatever delightful cat secrets Lady was so busy with, surely he could discover them when it wasn’t the middle of summer.
Just before he could turn around, though, he noticed that one of the doors was just slightly ajar.
Roman felt his brow gradually scrunch up the longer he stared at it. It had been locked up after the last of the old supplies had been moved from it, hadn’t it? The last big storm had proved it wasn’t weather-worthy, his dad had plans to take it apart for timber, ones that had seemingly been forgotten after… afterwards.
Petty inconveniences of getting there forgotten, Roman crept closer on light feet, grip tight on the catnip mouse in his hand. The wind died down at an eerily perfect moment, and he strained to hear beyond those old wooden walls.
Not everything is a grand conspiracy, a voice in his head reminded him, sounding suspiciously similar to Specs, it could simply be someone without housing that took the opportunity for shelter provided by the abandoned barn.
Roman sidled halfway through the ajar door, and froze at the sight of an upright humanoid figure only a few meters away. Something about it wasn't right, instantly putting him on edge. He kept staring, waiting for his eyes to adjust.
(“I’m telling you, these lights were strange even by my standards! Almost… alien.” An unsettling grin that was a beat late.)
The figure’s head was dropped forward, but he could tell even from this distance that it wasn’t human, with shiny purple-grey segmented skin and legs with knees facing the wrong way. It had spiky shoulder joints, but its arms seemed to be tucked behind it.
(Roman had shoved him off the couch, sour about being taken in by one of his tales, and he hadn’t brought it up again.)
Most alarming of all, there were four long, spindly limbs stretched out into the air behind it, seemingly spawning from its back. The legs were spider-like in nature, but shiny instead of hairy, and each one ended in a sharp point. As he watched, he could see the limbs shifting slowly, pairs of them lifting and falling in odd synchrony with the creature’s slow breathing.
(Roman had been freaked out, and his brother had dropped the subject. He should’ve asked, he should have known something was wrong--)
“Miaow.” A plaintive voice called, nearly startling Roman out of his skin.
He tore his gaze away from the (alien) mystery intruder, and felt his jaw drop as he took in Lady Macbeth’s current position. Loafing on the feet of an insidious intruder?!
For shame, he mouthed silently at her.
Lady blinked slowly and continued to purr, unbothered by his accusatory stare. One of those spider limbs shifted again, making Roman swallow nervously. He really didn’t want to see what sort of automatic reaction an extraterrestrial’s stabby-arms would have to finding a cat in its space.
He waved the catnip mouse enticingly. Lady gave him the bland look of a cat who had preferred those expensive feather toys for as long as he had known her. Roman resisted the urge to facepalm.
The insanely dangerous method it was, then.
Putting all his sneaking skills to use, he sidled further into the barn, dropping into a crouch and beginning to creep across the dirt floor as slowly as possible. Each step was carefully placed, almost entirely silent, and whenever those freaky appendages twitched, he froze in place for a full thirty seconds.
The alien’s head remained lax (asleep?) as he drew closer, but Lady refused to entertain his desperate motions for her to leave her ill-chosen bed. At this rate, he’d have to pick her up off of it, and hope that she didn’t complain too much on the way out.
He shifted his weight forwards, and suddenly all four of the arms were still, almost taut in the air. Only a couple feet away, the alien’s head bobbed slightly. His time was up.
Clenching his teeth, Roman made a gamble.
He tossed the little mouse toy directly at the space above the alien’s head and dove for Lady.
There was a whistle, like a whip or an arrow sliding through the air, and Roman made the mistake of glancing up as soon as he had his hands securely around Lady’s body.
All four of the spider limbs had jabbed into the same point, skewering the toy from several different angles. The alien was certainly awake now, and it had four times as many eyes as any one person could reasonably need. Between one heartbeat and the next, those huge dark irises went from staring at the poor mutilated toy to staring at Roman.
Terror shot through him and he gave up on subtlety, throwing himself back as hard as he could and hoping that he made it out of range.
He landed on his back with a whomp that knocked the wind out of him, and flinched as that terrifying whistling sound split the air again, ending in a muted thump. He was so wired with adrenaline that he couldn’t tell if he’d been hit or not. Locked in his arms, Lady writhed and complained loudly.
“Not going anywhere,” Roman wheezed, “you little fiend, con-- consorting with the enemy.”
There were several more whistle-thumps, which was either very good or very bad for him. He rolled to his side, pushing himself up on an elbow and taking stock of himself, braced for the worst.
The alien was still standing there against the central support beam of the barn. Half a foot from Roman’s leg, it's very sharp extra arms had left holes pierced in the hard-packed dirt of the barn’s floor.
“But no holes in me,” Roman cheered weakly, and then shifted Lady to the crook of one arm and flipped the alien off. “Nice try, Space Invader.”
The alien made a deep clicking rumble, but stopped trying to impale him. Instead, it moved to hold all those limbs high up in the air menacingly, ready to stab down at any point. The remains of the toy mouse sat near its feet, cotton innards spilling everywhere like a grim warning.
Roman got to his own feet, wincing at the feeling of Lady’s claws poking into his ribs as she attempted to kick her way to freedom. He took a moment to stare once he was back upright.
The alien’s skin plates had gone completely pitch-black, only the slightest hints of purple between the plates to prove that there’d ever been any color to it at all. Roman was abruptly glad that he hadn’t encountered it in the dark of night.
Its eyes were just as dark, with only the slightest difference in shades of black to indicate the difference between iris and sclera. Despite his artistic eye for color differences, even Roman couldn’t tell where its pupils were. If it even had pupils.
It also was still stuck in one place, despite its legs seeming totally operational. Roman slowly shuffled to the side of it, making sure to keep a few good steps clear of stabbing range, and found that it did in fact have normal arms and hands.
Well. Mostly normal. There were five fingers, but they were all way too long and ended in thick, claw-like points. He thought they also maybe had one or two too many joints.
More to the point, the alien couldn’t do anything with these arms because they were bound together at the wrists and tied tightly to the central support beam of the barn. It was stuck there, and going by the aggressive rumbling it was doing, it knew it.
Roman pulled out his phone and managed to take a shaky video of the alien, circling around it to both get a better angle and prompt it to threateningly twitch those back limbs some more. He knew his sci fi tropes, including the one where the alien mysteriously disappears the moment the plucky protagonist tries to tell anyone about the danger. He wasn’t going to be called crazy again.
Once he was content with the amount of evidence he had, he made the trek back to the house at a near-sprint, the cat in his arms protesting all the way. He burst through the back door, letting the screen fall shut behind him, and finally allowed Lady to walk on the power of her own four paws. She beelined for the screen door, stood up on her hind legs, and rattled it expectantly.
“Absolutely not,” Roman told her firmly, nudging her away. “I don’t know what it is with you and courting death via Xenomorph, but you are henceforth banned from the outdoors.”
If angry little kitty looks could kill, Roman would be as dead as King Duncan.
Shaking his head, he went over to the ancient landline phone in their kitchen, lifted the phone from its cradle, and paused.
Who was he going to call?
He’d had some half-conceived notion of calling his parents, or that infuriating police officer, or even just 911. What would he even say? ‘Hello operator, my emergency is that I have an alien in my barn, I promise this isn’t a prank’? Even the dial tone wouldn’t believe that.
And what if they did get someone out here to verify that there was a real alien? There was little doubt in his mind that law enforcement and then the government would quickly step in, whisking the evil version of E.T. away into some distant Area 51 lab. Roman would never see it-- or get any answers from it-- ever again.
He hung the phone up with a solid click, and turned to face the kitchen.
If he was going to interrogate a hostile alien, he needed to arm himself.
---
Shockingly, when he returned to the barn, the alien was still there.
He had crept up quietly again, hoping to catch it unawares, but this time it had been staring unerringly at him from the moment he peeked through the door, those smaller, rounder eyes wide open under its main ones.
He pushed the door open further with a dramatic flourish, pretending like he hadn’t been sneaking at all.
“Alien scourge,” Roman greeted, wincing at the crack in his voice. He cleared his throat, ignoring the way the alien’s dark gaze sent chills down his spine. “I don’t know how you ended up here, but I do know that you’re going to give me the information that I need.”
He pointed the end of his weapon of choice for emphasis, and the alien recoiled with a hiss, quickly jabbing out at it with those back arms.
Just as he’d hoped, however, putting vegetable oil on the already-slick plastic handle of the kitchen broom had made it basically impossible for those single-pronged limbs to stab or grab it. He grinned triumphantly, poking the alien with the end of it. The playing field had officially been evened.
“Now, unless you want me to introduce you to the Earth concept of piñatas, you better tell me what you’re here for.”
The alien was entirely silent, watching him with those shiny, pitch-black eyes. Behind it, its spider arms were vibrating with tension, probably in preparation to stab out the moment he slipped up.
“I’m serious,” Roman warned, poking it a little harder and getting exactly nothing for his efforts, not even a glare. “I know what I saw that night, and there’s no way it’s a coincidence that now you’re here. It was an abduction."
He paused for effect, and the alien let out a series of clicks and low, warped sounds that sounded like meaningless nonsense.
"I don't speak alien." Roman frowned. "Tell me what happened. Why were you-- or, your-- your brethren or your shipmates or whatever, why were they taking people? Where did they take them?”
The alien made what sounded like the same exact series of noises. Roman groaned in frustration.
“In-- In English! You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? If aliens are real and have the technology to infiltrate Earth without being detected, they have to have some way of communicating! An insta-translator or telepathy or math nonsense or something!” He threw his arms out in frustration, making the alien twitch.
He paced back and forth for a moment, before coming to a stop in front of the alien again and leveling it with an accusatory stare. “You’re faking it. I don’t believe that you can’t understand me.”
The alien just kept staring at him, flat plates where its mouth should have been, not a single expression visible on its face. It was about as convinced by Roman’s argument as everyone else in his life, which was to say, not at all. He felt a surge of white-hot anger, and levered the broom at its neck threateningly.
“Tell me, right now!” he demanded, stinging tears building up at the corner of his eyes. “Tell me where my brother is!”
He shoved the broom further forwards, and the alien snapped its limbs forwards and knocked it away, startling him into stumbling back. It hissed at him again, stabbing at the ground like a warning. He scowled, swiping at his face with a sleeve, and swung the broom handle at it sharply.
The swing went wide, more than a foot from touching any of it, but the alien showed the closest thing to emotion he’d seen so far, half of its eyes flinching closed in anticipation. Roman felt a sickening twist in his gut, some odd mix of guilt, anger, and vindication, and he turned away sharply.
Not for the first time, he wished he’d been the one that had been taken.
Remus wouldn’t care if the stupid cops didn’t listen to him, if their parents didn’t believe him, if the whole town thought he was insane. He would know how to convince an alien to talk, would threaten to-- to crush its extra eyes or cut off limbs or do something Roman was too squeamish to even think up.
If it was Remus, it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t know what to do. He’d at least do something.
He wouldn’t be going through the motions of life like everything was the same.
Pretending had always been Roman’s specialty, after all.
Roman cast a furious glare over his shoulder at the alien, resentful that it was still staring at him even as he was in the middle of a breakdown, and tossed the broom into the corner.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said, swallowing back the thickness in his voice, “and every day after that until you tell me.”
Threat delivered, he stormed out of the barn and slammed the doors shut behind him.
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iwaizumilovesme · 3 years
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U. Wakatoshi x Wife! Reader
You can also find me on Wattpad @iwaizumilovesme
Fluff and Slight Angst Parenting One-Shot 
~ "2:15", you read the clock out loud and quickly put the laundry basket that was in your hands down. I guess folding laundry has to wait for now, you thought. As you were trying to find your phone, you turned around only to be met with your husband. You would usually greet him, but this time you side-stepped your way around him and continued to try to find your phone. Wakatoshi stood there and chuckled, knowing what you were looking for. "I have it, right here," he waved the phone in his hands and looked at you with a soft expression. Your eyes glistened and you gasped, "Hey! Where did you get that? I thought I put it on the kitchen table?" you mumbled the last part to yourself as you made your way towards your husband. You were about to grab your phone, but Wakatoshi wanted to play around a bit. He held his arm high enough were you couldn't reach him.
You didn't whine as you reached up at him with your tippy-toes, but instead of reaching for the phone, you kissed his lips. You let your feet relax, and but you still craned your neck up towards Wakatoshi, "So can I have my phone now, please?" He chuckled a bit and lowered his hands, "Well, I thought maybe I could pick Hana up from school today." You blinked. He stared at you and waited for your answer, "But why do you have my phone?" It was his turn to blink. "Oh, yeah. Mine is still in the shop being fixed. Sorry." He kissed your forehead, "So I'll go now, okay? Be back in a bit." ~ You and Wakatoshi have been married for twelve years now, but you've known each other for quite a while now. He proposed to you right after your college graduation, and you two were officially married a year later. You two settled down at a young age, and even through the difficult times, you two stuck together like glue.
You gave birth to your amazing daughter, Hana, at twenty-five. At the time, Toshi had been playing in the professional volleyball league for eight years already, and you had a stable job as a teacher at a middle school close to where you lived. You decided to resign to take care of Hana, while Toshi took a year off for you. But after that was when things became a bit difficult.
Although Toshi was around when he wasn't training, it was still difficult to handle baby Hana during the times he was at training. He made a really huge amount of money for the family because he was so talented. You couldn't thank him enough for that, but then you felt he couldn't enjoy time with Hana as much as you'd liked. It was incredibly hard sometimes, but you two always seemed to find a way.
Four years later, he decided that he would retire from being a professional volleyball player. He decided to become a full-time house dad. Don't misunderstand, though. He still maintained a healthy body even if he didn't play for the national team, anymore. Since Wakatoshi had made so much money, you settled on working part-time at a bakery instead of going back to teaching. His talent playing volleyball led him to play for the national team. Meaning he received many sponsorships, as well as attention from the public eye. He modeled for various athletic clothing brands. He was just so successful, however, he decided it was time for family.
Luckily, Hana wasn't old enough quite yet to know that she was "missing" her father for the first few years of her life. In fact, his retirement was perfect timing as she was finally starting to grow a personality of her own. And only a mother and father could help her shape it into something beautiful.
Back to the present, now. You and Toshi are currently thirty five, and your daughter is ten. She's in the fourth grade, and she looks exactly like her father. She has his eyes, along with his stoic resting face and his hair. However, her personality matched yours. She was gentle, and actually very open to talking to people. Unlike Wakatoshi, she loved talking. She also happened to hate being alone because she-
"Hey, mom". Your thoughts were interrupted by Hana, and her back- hug. You almost spilled the whole salt shaker into the soup you were making. "Hey, girlie. How was school?" You turned around and saw her drop her backpack under her seat by the kitchen table, "It was fine..." She avoided your gaze as she answered. Wakatoshi was standing by the entrance of the kitchen  and you communicated with him through your eyes. What's wrong? You said silently. He only shrugged an, I don't know, in response. This was weird because normally Hana would be so excited after knowing her dad picked her up from school. You turned the stove off and sat down in front of Hana. "What's wrong?" Your husband took a seat beside you and held your hand, "We're here for you, Hana." You squeezed his hand as Hana sighed.
"Spring time is coming up soon and it means that school sports day is coming up. The school said there are gonna be basketball, tennis, track and field, volleyball, and soccer teams for boys and girls. We have to choose one sport, and then there will be a mini-tournament."
You piped up at the fact there's volleyball, "That's great, honey! There's volleyball? You love playing volleyball, don't you?" She sighed again, "Yeah...but none of our teachers want to coach us. They said they're just supervising...And everyone else but the girls volleyball team and soccer team have coaches, meaning we're forced to choose another sport..."
You whipped your head toward Wakatoshi and gave him a look. He sighed, "Hana, it'll be okay. Try not to worry too much, okay? Why don't you go start your homework while mom finishes making dinner. We can talk more about it through dinner." She nodded, grabbing her backpack, and making her way upstairs toward her bedroom.
You and Wakatoshi silently waited until you heard her door click, signalling she was inside. You cocked your head to the side and furrowed your brows trying to process the situation, "What was that? Toshi, why didn't you offer to be the coach? Isn't that what you do? You played volleyball, so you can coach, can't you?" He shook his head, "Well, she didn't ask me. And yes, I played volleyball. I don't do that anymore, (Y/N)." You ran your fingers through your hair, "Toshi, they're children...! Just a bunch of kids who want to play for fun! Did you see the look on her face? She just wants to play and have a good time. I'm sure the other kids want to experience that, too." He stood up and began to heat up rice for dinner, "And that's exactly it, (Y/N). They're just kids," he turned to you, and although his face remained stoic, you saw there was a softness in his expression that made your heart melt. "I'd love to coach for them, but what if I'm too hard on the kids? I don't want to hurt Hana. I love her to death, (Y/N), and you should be the first to know that. What if I get back into that serious volleyball mode like in high school and college and in the national league? I can't allow that to happen, (Y/N)."
You stood and wrapped your arms around his neck, "Toshi," you whispered into his ear, "it'll be okay. I know you won't do that. We can do this together." You stared up at him, "I'll be there with you. I may not know how coach, but I can assist with whatever you need. Think about it, Toshi. You can coach and I'll help collect balls, help with drills, and I'll even make some snacks for the girls. And when you get a little out of hand, I'll be there to calm you down." You smiled at him sweetly and he chuckled, "You mean like in high school?" You nodded, "Yes. Like in high school." You laughed as you recalled memories of you being the manager of Shiratorizawa through out all your high school years. After a moment of silence, he stared at you. "I love you, (Y/N)." And he leaned in and kissed you passionately. "I love you too, Toshi."
"Okay, I'll do it." ~ When you ended up telling Hana, she squealed like she had just received a long-awaited birthday present. She was so excited, and when the time came to begin training the girls to play volleyball, they too, became excited. It was no surprise that Hana's team ended up winning against other girls teams and boys teams. Hana's group received cute little volleyball medals, and after Hana received hers, she ran up to Wakatoshi and hugged him. "Thank you, dad," she then hugged you, "Thank you, mom,". Toshi let out a genuine laugh, "No need to thank us, Hana. If it makes you happy, we'll do anything for you," he grabbed your hand and squeezed it, "together."
~ Hey, y'all. I hope you enjoyed this one. I know it's a bit cheesy. Also the ending sounded way better in my head. Anyway, please let me know if you have any ideas, requests or anything. Love you lots~!
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Golden Boxes
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Luke Alvez x Reader 
Warnings: None I think 
Category: Fluff 
Word Count: 1.8k
Author’s Note: this is dedicated to the Luke to my Matt @luke-alvez 🥰 not sure if it's still your birthday where you are but this is my gift to you :) <3
----
The house was filled with boxes and bubble wrap. The plan was to be unpacked for your birthday but it seems things didn't go as planned. Luke had returned form case later than expected and there was the huge storm that seemed to last for days. A week later and all the boxes had arrived and were being unpacked. 
Luke’s footsteps echoed through the house as he jogged down the stairs, “baby, have you seen the hammer anywhere ? I need it but I can’t find it” he leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, your back was turned to him as you unpacked the dishes. 
“Check the living room” you mumble, turning your attention to the cupboard. Luke shouted from the other room that he found it and ran back up the stairs. The door slammed upstairs, making you shake your head. 
“Yeah! Break it before we unpack!” you yell, you can hear Luke’s boisterous laugh from upstairs, he shouted back a sorry. 
Your morning was spent in the kitchen because if you couldn’t unpack everything, at least you could have clean dishes to eat from and you know what they say, the way to someone’s heart is through their stomach. It was around lunch that Roxy brushed up against your leg, “hey girl, where’s dad?” your fingers run through her fur as you put some pots in the bottom cupboard. On cue, Luke comes down, “hey, I'm gonna run to the store. We’re out of screws” 
“What do you need screws for ?”
“Uh, the bed, I might have cross threaded the other ones” he gave you a tight lipped smile, you chuckled. “Okay, pick up some of the tacks to hang the frames too” Luke comes over and kisses the top of your head before leaving the house. 
-- 
A few hours later, he returned to the house with more bags than screws could be in. “Uh, did you buy out the store? And what took so long?” Luke was already halfway up the stairs when you got to the bottom of the staircase. “No. No,” he laughs and totally ignores your question, returning with the tacks to hang the frames in hand. “Do you need help hanging the frames?” he asks and you shake your head. 
“I’ll be upstairs then” and once again, Luke headed up the stairs and back into the room. Half of you wanted to go up and see what he was doing but the other half was much too lazy to walk up the stairs just to check on the man you saw less than 10 seconds ago. You made your way to the living room, Roxy trailing behind you as you sat on the floor and started opening the boxes. The amount of pictures, framed or in albums that you two had was unnecessary. For two people and a dog, it didn’t make sense that at least 4 large boxes had photo albums and pictures frames. Nonetheless, you begin hanging up the frames, rearranging and changing positions until you were pleased with the order. The fireplace was bare, the mantle covered in dust, you couldn't have it. Wiping the dust away, you tumbled through the boxes for pictures that deserved to be front and centre 
The first one on the mantle was from your 4th date and the first picture the two of you had together. Luke had invited you to a party that the BAU was having at Rossi’s place and Penelope had taken a picture of the two of you cuddled up next to each other outside. The second one was from your wedding, a picture of your first dance. It felt like only yesterday that you met Luke. It was hard to believe that you were married and had bought a house together. The third one was on you, Luke and Roxy. It was just some random picture that you had taken one morning. The two of you were in bed and you had your phone in your hand when Roxy jumped up onto the bed and amid the confusion, you accidentally took the picture. Neither of you are looking at the camera but you're both laughing. 
The sound of something falling pulled your attention away from the photos. “Luke?! You okay ?!” you shout from downstairs, he doesn’t answer so you head up, making your way to the bedroom. 
“Love, are you alright?” as soon as your hand reaches for the knob, Luke sticks his head out. “yeah, I'm okay” he smiles, “do you need some help ? I've had enough of downstairs” chuckling, you go to push the door open. 
“Oh it’s fine, there’s something propped against the door. I’ll finish up there and come down and help you” Luke shuts the door before you could protest. 
“Oh uh okay” mumbling, you head back down the stairs. The banging and thudding did not stop for the next 3 hours. Surely, it couldn't take that long to put together a bed. When it finally stops, he comes down as you had moved on from the living room to the pantry. “Y/n? where are you?!” he called, his footsteps sounding closer with each step. You had headphones in because of all of the noise he was making upstairs and when Luke’s hand rested on your waist, his touch startled you. Your hand coming up and gripping to your chest, Luke held back a laugh. The stupid smile on his face was enough to earn him a small whack to the side. 
“Don’t do that!” you shout,
“Sorry,” he chuckled, “I thought you heard me calling” 
“Well did I answer ?” you ask him, he shook his head as he watched you from the doorway. 
“Anyways, I'm running out to pick up a pizza. Unless you want something else?” 
“I’m fine, pizza is good” you smile, Luke leans in and gives you a kiss before walking towards the door. He stops halfway and looks back at you. “The room is still in a mess so don’t go up” he tells you, you nod and mumble okay. 
You didn't think anything of it. 
It’s not like you were in a rush for the bedroom to be done but it would be nice. The more you thought about it, the more you realized something seemed off. Luke had been upstairs all day and the bed still wasn’t put together? 
Walking up the stairs, the sound of your steps echoed through the almost empty house. You stopped in front of the door, half of you wanted to go in and see what was happening and the other half was shouting no in big red flashing lights. There had to be a reason as to why Luke asked you not to go in, he wouldn’t say that for no reason. Which only made you wonder even more. Stepping towards the door, your hand was just about to touch the knob when Luke shouts for you, once again, starling you. 
“What were you doing upstairs ?” he was at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at you as you made your way down. 
“Looking for the box with the kitchen towels” 
“Did you find it ?” 
“Must be in the kitchen, I think I saw it earlier” you give him a small smile, feeling kind of bad for lying to him. The half eaten box of pizza was discarded on the floor beside you and Luke, his arm around your shoulder as your head rests on his. 
“I have something for you. Let me go get it” untangling himself from you, Luke gets up. Your brows furrow, watching your husband jog up the stairs. “Babe?! Can you come up here?” you follow the sound of his voice up the stairs and into the room. You stop in your tracks when you step into the room. Not only had put the room together but he had also fixed your vanity. The movers didn't wrap it properly and it got damaged, it was the first time you had bought yourself when you moved out on your own so you had wanted to keep it. 
“You fixed it” you smiled at him, your hand running around the top of it. “Is that what you were doing all day ?” 
“Mhm hm, you looked so sad when it arrived. I couldn't leave it like that” Luke pulls you into his side, his arm around your shoulder once again. He kisses the top of your head, “I take it that you’re happy ?” he asks, turning towards you. “Of course” flashing him a smile which turns into a loud squeal when Luke picks you up, he drops you on the bed and then lays beside you. 
“You know I love you right ?” rolling onto your side, your hand cupping his cheek. Luke kisses the palm of your hand, “I know. you know I love you right ?” he smiles which makes you smile too. “That’s not the real gift though” Luke sits up, he pulls out a little box from the bedside table. 
“This is for you” he hands it to you. Unwrapping the ribbon, you pull the lid off the box. A gold charm bracelet sat in the box, there were a few charms evenly spaced from each other. The first charm was a little paw print which was for Roxy of course. The second being the palm tree because the two of you went to the tropics for your honeymoon. The third was a tiny hockey stick, seeing that you loved hockey. There were a few more that reminded you of your trips and your time together. 
“Oh Luke,” you breathed, he gently picked up the bracelet and placed it on your wrist, attaching the hook and turning it the right way. “Do you like it?” he asks, his hand still holding yours. “It’s gorgeous Luke, thank you” you smile. His phone buzzes, he picks it up. 
“Do you have to go ?” you ask him, hoping that it wasn't Emily telling him that they had a case. Luke shook his head and showed you his phone instead. the clock had just changed to 12, the beginning of a new day, your birthday.
Luke’s hands cupped your face as he leaned in, his lips inched away from yours, “happy birthday mi amor” he pressed his lips to yours. You know he could feel your smile through the kiss, “thank you” you mumbled, as your arms wrapped around him and pulled him back into bed with you. 
---- 
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soulmate-game · 4 years
Text
Useful Part 2
fluff with a little hurt and comfort. If you want answers as to the lack of angst, look through my recent posts for an explanation. 
—* — * — * —* —* 
“Wait, you have a WHAT?” were the first words that the rest of the Gotham-based vigilantes heard when they finally were able to track down where Damian had gone. Dick looked over at Bruce, who was noticeably tense. No surprise there, the man had just found out that he had a second biological child. One who was apparently a superhero already, without his intervention, and also apparently had a tragic background in the League of fucking Assassin Assholes. Not to mention that Damian’s track record with meeting siblings wasn’t great, even if this one wasn’t actually new to him. Nobody had any real fear of Damian relapsing on his no-kill rule, they knew he had matured far too much to be at risk of killing for something as immature as sibling rivalry anymore. 
But there was still fear. Because this new Wayne was an Unknown Factor, and as a rule the Bats hated Unknown Factors. And they had no idea what the relationship between the two had been before they had been separated, or what it would become now. 
“That wasn’t Damian’s voice,” Dick helpfully pointed out the obvious. Bruce only frowned, doing his best (and failing) to hide his anxiety about what they would find. Silently, the group inched forward to the edge of the abandoned building they were on top of so that they could look over at what was happening. What they saw was a girl, presumably the same one who had been in a ladybug onesie and had fearlessly begun to ask them to leave Paris— until she had laid proper eyes on Robin and fled, that was. That girl was sitting down next to an unmasked Damian, who had his arm around her shoulders and let her lean into his side. He even smirked cheerfully at her question before continuing to speak to her. 
“A dragon-bat. I knew you’d love hearing about him, I’ll introduce you when you come visit the Batcave. His name is Goliath,” Damian admitted smugly. Despite the familiar attitude and pride behind his words though, his spying family couldn’t help but notice that he kept periodically rubbing the girl’s (they really needed to find out her name) shoulder in reassurance. None of them missed the tear tracks on both of their faces, or how red the girl’s eyes were. Clearly they had missed something big. 
But nobody wanted to try to figure that out yet. This scene was too precious, too breathtaking for them to interrupt just yet. They had never seen Damian this vulnerable around someone outside of their little circle before, someone from the Time Before Bruce, no less. Most of the time, only Nightwing was able to see this side to Damian. And usually the roles were reversed, with Damian being the one consoled. They had never seen him in the position of the comforter before. The pillar of support. 
It really cemented just how far he had come. 
So they watched silently as the girl flinched, pulling away a bit and hunching in on herself. The laugh she let out was small and overflowing with self-degradation. 
“You make it sound as if the rest of your family actually wants me to visit,” she replied sourly. Damian gently cuffed her over the head, frowning. 
“Two things,” he held up two fingers from his free hand. “One: They will. They accepted me, and I was— well, you remember how I used to be. Once they actually meet you, and process the fact that there’s another Wayne now, they will bombard you with more welcoming than you will know what to do with. Two: It’s Our family, Marinette. Not mine, ours.”
Well, at least they had a name now. But it seems like they had bigger issues now, like Marinette’s clearly damaged sense of self. Jason and Tim traded knowing glances; it wasn’t hard for them to guess where, or how, she might have been damaged enough to think so lowly of herself. 
They watched as Marinette shook her head. 
“I don’t know. It’s one thing to try to… to get to know you again. We used to be close before… everything,” she haltingly argued, voice small and frail and uncertain. But she never once looked away from Damian’s eyes, trying to convey as best as she could what she was feeling. “But they’re different. They don’t have any reason to trust or like me, Dami. And I’m bad at, well everything, but especially,” she waved her hands frantically as if indicating the whole situation they were in. “I mean, listen to me! I can barely articulate right now, and I’m talking to someone I’ve known my whole life! I’m a mess. Nobody wants a mess.” 
It was Damian’s turn to snort, and he pulled her right back into his side. “Please. If anything, that’s exactly the type of child Father goes looking for. We’re all a mess. Especially Father, trust me.” 
“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” she accused suspiciously, but sank into his sideways embrace anyway. Damian chuckled. 
“No, I’m being honest. He’s terrible at emotions, not that I really have much room to talk. We all are pretty bad with them. But he’s the most obvious when it comes to that issue,” Damian smirked over at his sister conspiratorially. “For example. He still tries to tell people that he works alone, and pushes people away because he has this intense desire to protect, but doesn’t know how to say “I don’t want you to get hurt, stop worrying me,” so instead he says “Go away, I don’t need you,” only for us to see through that nonsense and remind him that the amount of people in his team is in the double digits already. He doesn’t want to admit he cares about us and is vulnerable—”
“Sounds familiar,” Marinette teased with a watery grin, startling a short laugh from her twin. He nudged her a little roughly (but not to roughly) and playfully glared at her. Marinette just giggled.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied with a grin before waving his free hand in dismissal. “Anyway. Another example. He has no idea how to tell a stranger, “hey, I’m your father and I will not reject you. In fact, I’m completely willing to adopt you right this moment and whisk you away to Gotham and relative safety and hire an entire team of therapists to help you and buy you half the world if you asked for it,” so instead he and the rest of our emotionally constipated family just lurks on the edge of a building in broad daylight eavesdropping on us and expects us not to notice.” 
“Wait what,” Marinette’s gaze instantly whipped up towards the sky, taking only half a second to locate the aforementioned eavesdroppers. Everyone except Bruce at least had the courtesy to duck down and pretend not to be there when they noticed she had seen them, leaving Batman standing seemingly alone on the concrete roof. Marinette blinked once. Twice. Then turned to Damian. “I’m gonna blame the fact that I didn’t notice them on emotional turmoil, because there is no way I’ve gotten THAT rusty.” 
Damian smiled, but didn’t laugh. He knew that was a deflection to try and distract from Marinette’s quickly resurging self-consciousness. Her hands were already trembling again, and the fear from only minutes ago had resurfaced. The insecurity. He could practically see the words “I’m not good enough,” written in her irises. 
“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, standing up and pulling her with him. “If anyone has to worry here, it’s me.” 
“What the hell are you talking about?” Marinette whisper-hissed right back, eyes wide in disbelief and confusion. “You’re— You! Mister Perfect!” 
Damian rolled his eyes, and his self-deprecating smirk matched the laugh Marinette had given just a few minutes earlier. “For the League, maybe,” he shrugged. “Never the Wayne family. Which is why I know you’ll be fine. If they put up with everything I’ve done and still call me one of them, they’ll accept you with barely a second thought.” 
Marinette’s next argument was cut off by the sound of a dozen soft footfalls stirring up dirt not far ahead of them. The BatClan had landed from the rooftop. 
Marinette gulped. 
But if there was one thing— one thing she still remembered from her days as Marie Al-Ghul, it was how to fake pride and confidence. She straightened her shoulders automatically, lifted her chin, and pulled away from Damian’s supporting arm around her shoulder. Damian let her. 
A little bit of old resentment flared up in him as he saw Batman walk up close enough to comfortably talk with them. Resentment that he no longer held onto, but that had haunted him nearly every night of the first two years he spent with his dad. The realization that maybe his twin was the one that was meant to be a Wayne. Marie had the blue eyes, the compassion, the more specifically detective-oriented mind. The calm head. Sometimes. Marie was exactly who he imagined when he thought of a naturally born member of the BatClan. Stubborn, clever, morally just. She had risked immediate death just because she refused to fight him, for crying out loud. Because she didn’t want to hurt the boy who used to be her best friend. The only ally she had ever had, growing up. 
Meanwhile, he still had issues reigning in his anger sometimes. He had too much blood on his hands, he was more of a battlefield tactician than a long-term strategist. Still stubborn, but also completely unaware of the pain he brought others with his words or actions a lot of the time. He used to be such a rage fueled little demon, and thinking about how his sister fit the classic Wayne outline more thoroughly than he did had made him destroy more than a few practice dummies in frustration. 
But now, looking at Marinette trying so hard to appear strong and proud when he knew she was still so shattered inside, relief overpowered the old and dull resentment. This was what she needed, he could sense that easily. She, just like him all those years ago, needed Bruce and the others to start to heal her and reforge what the League had badly molded. 
“... Marinette, I suppose?” Damian nearly facepalmed at his father’s awkward attempt at a conversation starter. Marinette herself was clearly too keyed up and overthinking things to even register any amusement at the lame attempt, merely nodding with an overly serious expression on her face. 
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Monsieur Wayne. Or that’s my name nowadays, that is,” She stumbled a little in her response before clenching her fists and forcing herself to continue as calmly as she could muster up. “My birth name was Marie Al-Ghul.” 
Bruce’s eyebrows visibly furrowed underneath his cowl. “Was?” 
“I…” Marinette finally looked away, shame creeping back onto her face. “I was explicitly told that I was stripped of the Al-Ghul name and would be killed if I ever dared lay claim to it again. So I not-so-legally changed it. And I was later adopted.” 
Several sharp gasps or the hiss of breath through teeth bit through the quiet breeze. Nobody was necessarily surprised, Marinette could see it when she looked through her eyelashes and examined the winces and sympathy on the faces of the vigilantes before her. Batman’s shoulders were stiff, as if someone had paralyzed only his shoulder blades. 
“And the people who adopted you?” Batman pursued. Marinette couldn’t read his tone very well, but it sounded vaguely angry so she quickly raised her hands in a placating gesture and her eyes widened significantly. 
“They’ve been amazing! They don’t know anything about my past, or who raised me, but they are endlessly patient with me. I mean, honestly! Sabine caught me when I was trying to steal one of her gold bracelets in Hong Kong— and I know I’ve never been as good of a combatant as Dami, but I’ve always been better at sleight of hand and stealth so honestly that’s impressive— and she saw my dirty eight-year-old face and for some reason decided, ‘yeah I want this one as my daughter’ and roped Tom right into it and next thing I know they somehow tailed me to my hideout? I still don’t know how the hell they managed that, but Tom had a huge plate of steaming buns and I was so hungry and suddenly it’s two years later and I’m adopted and we’re on a plane to Paris—” Marinette threw up her hands. “I still don’t fully grasp what happened sometimes.” 
She belatedly seemed to realize that she had just gone on an entire breathless rant at the speed of sound, and slapped her hands over her mouth before lunging into a deep bow. “I apologize! I spoke horridly out of turn!” 
To her surprise though, she was met with a soft laugh instead of a scolding. She jerked in surprise, whipping her head up only to see Batman holding a hand over his chin to hide his large grin. It only took another second for the boys behind him to laugh a lot LESS softly. Nightwing strolled over casually and swung an arm around both her and Damian’s shoulders, playfully nudging her brother with his knee. 
“I think she fits right in, don’t you little D?” 
“Of course,” Damian scoffed, though his eyes were playful. “She is a Wayne by blood. She ‘fits in’ more than you strays.” 
“Dami!” Marinette whipped back to him and puffed out her cheeks. “That was uncalled for!” she barked. Damian held his hands up in surrender. 
“Relax,” he said as soothingly as he could manage. “They know I’m joking,” he dropped his hands and a knowing smirk took over his face. “And besides, now you’re relaxed so my plan worked,” Marinette could only blink at that. She… did feel more relaxed, actually. “Also. I told you you’d be accepted easily. They already consider you one of us.” 
“Wha— there’s no way—” she frantically looked at each of the older men around her, but each of them just shot her a smile or grin and a short nod. Her shoulders and jaw both fell, and it broke a little of everyone’s heart. 
Marinette looked so utterly shocked, bewildered to be accepted as if it was still something profoundly foreign to her. And there was that disbelief in her eyes, that distrust that screamed that she expected some sort of lie here. That told that she thought this would all crumble away at any second. If anyone had any reservations about bringing her into their inner circles, it vanished right that moment. She needed support, or she’d crumble away and they all knew it. 
“How about we start by talking about the situation with Hawkmoth?” Red Robin spoke up, walking forward to stand beside Batman. “I assume that’s a little more in your element?” 
Damian silently vowed to thank Tim later for that. In a silent, completely anonymous way of course. Couldn’t have Tim thinking they were friends or something now, could he? Marinette instantly straightened up and nodded, her confidence returning with a little more sincerity this time. 
“Yeah. Yeah, let me transform again. It’ll be easier to explain.” 
—*—*—*—*—*
It was three weeks later, on Marinette’s third now-weekly visit to the Batcave, when the question finally came up. Jason had asked to spar with Marinette for the first time, having seen her in action as Ladybug and wanting to test the girl when she didn’t have superpowers to rely on. Damian hadn’t been down in the cave to warn him, and the result was Jason’s gut sinking as Marinette scrambled as far away from him as she could, eyes wide and chest heaving in the beginnings of a panic attack. 
“Shit,” Jason muttered before he quickly knelt down and did his best to talk her down, to calm her until her breathing slowed and her pupils were back to normal. It wasn’t long afterwards that Marinette started hugging herself, refusing to look at him. But he wasn’t going to just back down, he wanted to solve this issue. If even the mere suggestion of a spar was enough to set her off, he needed to figure out why and fix it. 
So he carefully lowered himself so he was sitting only a foot away from her, resting his arms across his knees casually. 
“Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t think it would be a sore subject. That’s on me.” 
Marinette just shrugged, but didn’t answer him. She just buried her face in her arms and took a shaky breath. 
Jason let the silence linger for a while before trying again. “Does this have to do with certain Asshole Assassins?” 
That startled a slightly hysterical bark of laughter from her, and she had to wipe away a few tears when she raised her head and finally turned it in his direction slightly. Not enough for her to be looking at him,  but just a subtle turn to show that she was listening and speaking to him. “Yeah.” 
“You know, you never told us why you got disowned,” Jason tried to make his words as casual as possible, but wasn’t surprised when Marinette still stiffened and took a sharp breath. He didn’t push. The stage was set, and he’d wait until either she took the opportunity to open up or told him to leave well enough alone. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and her foot tapped on the ground a bit. Clear signs of her anxiety around the subject, and Jason’s hopes vanished a little. He would probably have to wait longer for her to be ready to share.
But, to his pleasant surprise, he was wrong. She took another few minutes to gather her thoughts, but she did eventually open up to him. 
“I refused to fight Damian,” she admitted. “It was… We were seven. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight to the death, but it was a very important spar. We were using live weaponry, and we were told to fight until we couldn’t anymore. Whoever fell first would be relegated as a mere soldier, and have to fight for status like any other assassin in the League. The winner would officially be named as G— as Ra’s Heir. I didn’t want to fight, because I knew Damian would win but I also knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as Ra’s probably expected if I gave it my all like he wanted. I knew both Damian and I would be heavily injured if I did as he asked, and it wouldn’t be worth it. If I misjudged anything, any single hit, I could have accidentally injured Damian permanently and ruined his worth in Ra’s eyes, and that wasn’t an option. I didn’t care that throwing the fight was as good as giving up my life, because at least I could be sure that Damian kept his. I could make sure that he was treated well, or as well as anyone could hope for in the League anyway. I could, with only a few words, make sure he became indispensable. Ra’s and Talia never liked me as much as Damian anyway, I figured… I figured it was nobody’s loss,” She swallowed heavily, clenching her eyes shut. “I was always just the spare. The extra. Damian was their crown prince, the one with actual value. Even to me. I saw him, and I saw everything I wanted to be. I… I tossed down my weapons and let him stab me, because I figured I owed it to him for being such a failure in comparison to him. That I owed it to him to do everything I could to make things easier for him, since I was just an unnecessary obstacle—” strong arms wrapped around her, and she turned to sob into Jason’s chest as he just silently held her. 
“Idiot,” Damian whispered, making Marinette jump. Her twin sat only a few feet away, though only Jason would have known when exactly he had gotten there with them. He shook his head at her. “I never would have gotten as far as I did without you,” he whispered, looking up at the cave ceiling. “You were the only real rival I had. When you left, everything was either too easy or nearly impossible, nothing was the same as trying my best against someone who was just as good as me. And when I got here and met the others, I didn’t think any of them were worthy of taking your position, you know,” he scoffed a bit as he got lost in his memories. “That’s why I hated Tim for so long, I think. He reminded me of you so much that I wanted nothing more than to punch him for daring to replace you—”
“Heh, the Replacement twice over, huh?” Jason joked. Damian chuckled with a small eye roll. 
“Plus, he just has a really punchable face,” Damian added, trying to distract from the emotion behind everything he had just admitted. “Part of me thought you were dead. The other part refused to believe that. And seeing Tim and how some of his mannerisms were the same as yours,” Damian shrugged a little. “It stung. Especially that second year, when I started to regret that you never had the chance to come here and join them with me. Meet them with me.” 
Marinette sniffled. “... Who are you and what have you done with Dami? He’s never this sappy.” 
Damian flicked a pebble at her head with a good natured glare, successfully diffusing the serious air a little. Marinette wouldn’t ever be normal, and it would take a while before she was no longer fragile, but she could get there. Especially now that her bridges with her brother had been mended, and and a whole new family had cropped up to help support her. 
She was glad Damian had convinced her to try, again.  
573 notes · View notes
eggtoasties · 3 years
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Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
Rating: G 
Word Count: 1.2k of tooth rotting dad!kuroo
Summary: Love is in the little things: Brita filters, sesame seeds, and frozen waffles.
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Music plays softly in the background as Kuroo works diligently in the kitchen. Against the backsplash of white tile, glass containers dotting the wooden shelves, and stainless steel appliances in the modern kitchen, Kuroo Tetsurou wears a bright red apron with the words “Kiss the Chef” written garishly across the front.
On a tray he’s already balanced a stack of incredibly fluffy pancakes covered in a light dusting of powdered sugar, topped with the ripest berries. He’s taken out the nice porcelain that’s stored on the top most shelves—only to be used on special occasions, she said—and filled the matching bowls with an assortment of fruits and granola from the farmer’s market.
He hums to himself as he places the sunny side up eggs just so on the plate and delicately shakes the spice bottles to ensure an even layer. Putting the final touches on the food, he starts the espresso machine while he peels several oranges to hand squeeze. In the middle of his fourth orange, Kuroo hears the patter of foot steps down the stairs.
“Wow,” a small voice drawls out at his hip, “looks so good.”
A small, chubby hand reaches for a bowl and Kuroo lightly swats it away.
“Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?” Kuroo says mostly to himself, satisfied with the assortment of sweet and savory treats, so aesthetically placed he figures Martha Stewart would weep. Finishing with the last orange, he wipes his hands on his apron and moves to make the coffee, scooting the tray further away from the edge.
He feels a small tug at his pajama pant leg and looks down to see his pouting child.
“I’m hungry,” his son complains, tiny hand fisting cotton and the other resting at his hip, a mirror image of his mother.
Gently ruffling his son’s hair, still unruly from sleep, a set of heavier footsteps makes its way to the kitchen. Yawning the sleep from her eyes and sighing at the pops in her neck, Kuroo’s eldest daughter zeroes in on the breakfast spread and makes a beeline for the tray.
Swiftly blocking her warpath he grabs a dish towel and waves it in front of her like a matador to a bull. “Who are you and get out my kitchen,” Kuroo says.
She scowls up at him which makes him scowl too.
“You know what your mom says about frowning,” he lightly scolds.
“I’m young and have a great retinol,” she bites back, “what’s your excuse?” she taunts.
“Oi! What’s with the attitude so early in the morning, can’t you see I’m busy,” he says incredulously, gesturing to the breakfast tray as he catches his youngest drag a short footstool towards the counter.
With one step, Kuroo scoops him up—away from the food—and distracts him with the promise of Eggo waffles while squishing chubby cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, kissing the soft skin.
“You’re making pancakes from scratch and you’re feeding us the frozen waffles?” his daughter deadpans.
“Who said anything about feeding you guys—you have two hands,” he points out, wincing when small fists beat his chest.
At her stink eye, Kuroo curses teenage hormones and nearly runs to the beep of the espresso machine, any excuse to avoid further scrutiny from his daughter. He puts his son down and whispers for him to sit and wait for his sister to get him breakfast. His daughter—light of his life, apple of his eye, his precious darling baby girl—but an absolute menace at sixteen and unfortunately absolutely took after him in this regard.
He pours the perfect amount of hot water to the espresso and Kuroo nods approvingly at the spread: pancakes, eggs, fruit, yogurt, granola, freshly squeezed orange juice, water at room temperature because apparently cold water is bad for the stomach, and finally, hot coffee.
Rummaging in the freezer his daughter grumbles, “Can you at least get me water?”
He grabs a glass and fills it halfway and meets his daughters open mouth of disbelief. Placing his hand on his hips he mocks her expression.
“Yes?”
“You’re giving me tap water,” she says accusingly.
“The Brita is for the dog and your mom,” he retorts.
Turning away at her screech of indignation, he smiles to himself when she can’t see it. Yes, she thoroughly irritates him with her refusal to drink orange juice with pulp and completely baffles him when she doesn’t heed his advice to wear a little less eyeliner. He also definitely thinks her boyfriend is a little bit of a loser, but, he is utterly and entirely certain that she is one of the best things he has ever done with his life equal to having her brother and marrying their mother.  
His wife. Even as his ring clinks against his second cup of coffee, as it has every morning for the past several, several years they’ve been together, it still feels unreal. He thinks of her and remembers when they first met in college, first vacations, their wedding, their children’s births and even random memories from inconsequential days all at once. Like the day they got ice cream and she nearly puked in his lap on the subway because she insisted her lactose intolerance wasn’t that bad. Or when they were driving going to who knows where and there was a black sesame seed wedged in her tooth as she smiled at him and the car behind him honked for him to move because he was so dumbstruck by the way she smiled at him. When he thinks of her, a million memories and thoughts come rushing in at once to meld together to overwhelm him with one unmistakable emotion.
He figures he’ll never be able to articulate exactly how much she means to him with words. Hell, even for their wedding vows they had agreed to save the sappy stuff for afterwards—in private. He shyly presented a well-worn, heavily creased, ten page manifesto of his love in their hotel room, heart beating faster than it had during the wedding, feeling more exposed in that moment than when he was at the altar in front of all of their friends and family. His hands shook as she read each page, mouthing his words so tenderly back at him and he’s never told her that that moment was more nerve wracking than when he proposed.
So, he hopes that breakfast in bed makes up for it. Or, breakfast at their side table because she has a thing about crumbs in her bed. But nothing screams ‘domestic bliss’ to Kuroo quite like the idea of pancakes in bed and that’s why he’s bought so many bed trays even though she rolls her eyes every time.
And maybe, that’s what love is. Delivering breakfast in bed to your no-food-in-the-bed rule making partner on the trays she banned from the house. But, because you were so focused on making the perfect heart shaped pancakes and the fact that you bought a very expensive ring a long time ago, she’ll forgive you and ignore your citrus stained hands as you tenderly stroke her hair until she wakes.
Kuroo grins to himself as he makes his way to their bedroom, tapping his wedding ring against the handle and feeling the small weight of the gift box in his left pocket.
260 notes · View notes
expectingtofly · 3 years
Text
Claire Novak's (Surprisingly) Not-So-Lame Day
2k
this fic is written for @dean-has-great-taste as part of @starrynightdeancas' gift exchange. thanks sophie for organizing this, it was a lot of fun <33 and i hope you enjoy this, gen!!
*****
How did Claire find herself joining Dean, Cas, and Jack for an excursion to the mall?
Well.
Cas had texted her yesterday, with an extreme amount of emojis and emoticons that took some time to decipher, asking if she wanted to go shopping with him, Dean, and Jack. Apparently Jack needed new clothes and they needed a gift for Eileen’s birthday coming up, and maybe they could go bowling or something afterwards.
And normally she would’ve said no way because hanging out with old guys was lame and she didn’t like little kids, but she needed an excuse to get out of Jody and Donna’s weekend plans of cleaning out the garage. Plus, Kaia needed to study for a test—she actually enjoyed school, the weirdo—and had requested no distractions.
So that’s how she found herself sitting in the back of the Impala next to a carseat, listening to one of Dean’s old cassette tapes (which wasn’t too bad, but she’d never admit it).
“What’s that?” Jack asked, stretching against his carseat straps to jab at one of the pins Claire wore on her leather jacket.
“It’s the lesbian flag,” she told him. Cas looked back at them from the front seat, smiling.
“This one?” Jack pointed to the rainbow pin on her pocket.
“It’s the pride flag.”
Jack considered that for a moment before announcing, “I want one. And this one.” He pointed to the mothman pin on her lapel, then the big-eyed, green alien. “And this one... and this one, and this one.” (Alex said she had more pins than leather on her jacket, but sue her, she liked making her clothing her own).
Jack, it seemed, also liked… unique clothing. The kid was wearing rain boots even though the sun was out and overalls with embroidered flowers. He dressed weird, there was no way around it. But so did Cas, so there was probably no hope for him, poor kid.
“Okay,” she decided. “I know where to get you some.”
Jack beamed and swung his legs. “Don’t kick the seat,” Dean told him, and Jack pouted at him.
Claire was surprised Dean even let a carseat in his precious Impala. Pulling out her phone, she asked, “Can we listen to my music?”
Dean started to respond with a “Hell no,” but Cas spoke up first, “Of course.”
Dean spluttered as Claire connected to the bluetooth connector Sam had finally convinced Dean to install. The old man didn’t realize it was the 21st century, apparently.
“I wanna listen to Gaga!” Jack said, leaning over to look at her phone.
At first she thought that was some baby talk, then she realized Jack was into pop music. Ugh. But it would annoy Dean, so...
Leaning in conspiratorially with Jack, she let him scroll through her phone and choose which song to play. When “Born This Way” started filtering through the car, Dean groaned.
“Really?” he asked, sending her a glare in the rearview mirror. Mission accomplished.
Jack clapped along and Cas turned the music up louder. “Great choice, Jack,” he said.
Dean, for all his grumbling, didn’t turn down the music, and Claire caught him glancing at Cas, who tapped his fingers on his thigh to the beat. Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile and Claire rolled her eyes. Dude was so whipped.
When they parked at the mall, Cas grabbed Jack’s hand before he could sprint across the parking lot. “You have to look both ways,” he reminded him gently, and Jack nodded.
“Claire’s gonna buy me pins,” he said, jumping onto the curb.
“Yup.” Claire pat her jacket pocket. “Good ol’ credit card fraud.”
“Woah, now,” Dean started to protest.
“You and Sam are the ones who taught me!” Claire reminded him.
“We’ll pay for them,” Cas said, opening the door to the mall. Jack skipped inside, his rain boots squeaking on the tiled floor.
“We’re doing what now?” Dean asked Cas, taking his hand. Gross.
“Come on, Jack,” Claire said, catching up to the toddler. “Let’s go get you some style.” Over her shoulder, she called, “Meet up with you guys later.”
“Have fun!” Cas called.
“Don’t get kidnapped,” Dean added.
As they distanced themselves from the old geezers, Jack grabbed her hand, and Claire startled a little. “Do you like dinosaurs?” he asked.
Someone passing by gave them a smile, and Claire realized people probably thought Jack was her younger brother. She let him hold her hand anyway. “Sure.”
“What’s your favorite? Mine is the bon-ta-sore-us.” He sounded out the word carefully.
“Don’t know. What’s the one with the spiky horns?”
“Ti-ce-a-tops?”
“Yeah, that sounds cool.”
“That’s my second favorite!” He started jumping from one colored tile to the next. “And the T-Rex. That’s Dee’s favorite. And Dad likes the steg-a-sore-us.” He peered up at her. “Did you know he got to see dinosaurs? Right in front of him!”
“You know what that means, right?” He shook his head. “He’s super old. He’s basically a dinosaur himself.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “He’s a dinosaur,” he repeated in a hushed whisper.
“Yup.” Spotting Hot Topical, she headed that way. “You should tell him that.”
Inside the store, Jack let go of her hand to grab a stuffed cat. “Claire! Like yours!”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Yeah.” So, she still had the Grumpy Cat Cas had bought her. She wasn’t cruel enough to throw it away when the guy was trying so hard to make up for walking around in her dead dad’s body. Plus, the stuffed animal was kinda cute. Not that she was going to tell anyone that.
“Here ya go,” she told Jack, finding a box of pins at the register. She brought the box down to his level and Jack ran over to look inside.
“I want a Doc McStuffins pin,” he said, plunging his hand into the box.
“I don’t know if they have those.”
As they rooted through the box of pins, she heard familiar voices and looked up to see Dean and Cas walking inside.
“What are you guys doing here?” she asked.
“I like this store,” Cas said and Dean rolled his eyes. Among the pleather and black, Cas’ dingy old trench coat—over a Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt instead of a suit—and Dean’s ratty flannel and boots only looked more ridiculous. She took it back—even Jack dressed better than them.
“You guys don’t have to be in here,” she told them.
“What, we’re too old?” Dean asked defensively.
“Yeah, actually.”
Cas poked at a toy and it squeaked. God, could they be any more embarrassing?
“Dad!” Jack called, holding out a rainbow pin. “Look, they have soo many.” Cas joined Jack in going through the pins and Claire asked Dean, giving his outfit a meaningful look,
“Was the Army Surplus store too trendy for you?”
“Did they kick you out of Sephora for buying up all the eyeliner?“ Dean shot back.
Touché. In a truce, she held out a pin with the bisexual flag. She wasn’t really sure what Dean identified as, if he even gave it any thought, but guessed it was close enough. “For you.”
Dean rolled his eyes but took it. “I’m not weighing down my jacket with this crap, though.”
“No, ‘course not, that would mean having any sort of style.”
“Can I help you with anything?” asked an employee with two nose rings and jewelry up and down their ears— so cool. Claire saw the way their eyes flicked between them, probably thinking they made a weird group, and she took a step back, trying to silently communicate that yes, she was shopping with them, but no, she was not as lame as them.
“Just looking,” Dean told them.
“I like your drawings,” Jack said and the employee looked down at their arms which were littered with tattoos.
“Thanks.”
“My dad has a drawing. It’s Enochian.”
The employee—Wren, by the name tag—looked at Cas with new respect in their eyes. “Language of the angels. Sick.”
Cas looked pleased. “Thank you. It’s come in handy more than once.”
The employee went back to looking confused and, starting to walk away, told them to call if they needed anything.
“Do you want anything?” Cas asked Claire, and Claire looked through the box. She grabbed a pentagram pin and, seeming to copy her, Jack grabbed another one, clutching several pins already in his fists.
“You like bees, right?” Claire asked Cas, spotting a “Save the Bees” pin. She held it up for him.
Cas’ eyes brightened. “That’s a wonderful message.” He glanced back at Dean and frowned. “Dean, they’re not going to bite.”
Claire looked over to see Dean shying away from a few emo teens. “Look like it,” Dean muttered, joining them. Jack lifted up his hands, asking to be hoisted up. Dean set him on his hip and Jack showed him the pins he’d selected. He held a dinosaur pin to Dean’s collar.
“Do you want one, Dee?”
“He’s too lame,” Claire piped up. Not for the first time, she noticed the healed over piercing mark on Dean’s right ear and pointed to it. “Looks like he used to be cool, though.”
“Yeah, guess so,” Dean said dryly. His hand went to his earlobe. “Pierced it myself, in high school.”
“I think you’re still cool,” Cas told him, and Claire fake-gagged, making Jack giggle.
Cas took the pins to the cash register where Wren rang them up. Dean added the bisexual flag pin and Claire threw in a pair of spiky earrings, because, hey, they were paying.
“15.36,” Wren told them, dropping the pins into a bag.
“My dad’s a dinosaur,” Jack told them, trying to see over the edge of the counter. Wren raised an eyebrow, Cas looked surprised, and Claire stifled a laugh.
“Claire, help me,” Jack said, grabbing the bag from Cas as they exited the store. Moving to the side, Claire helped him attach the pins to his overalls. A smiley face, a pride flag, a grinning Stitch, a sunflower, a dinosaur, and the pentagram. The pins clacked as Jack tugged at his overalls, trying to look at them all. Overall, a chaotic look, but it kinda matched his vibe.
“Lookin’ good,” she told him, and Jack beamed.
“I’m like you!”
Alright, she wouldn’t take it that far, but, “Yeah, close enough.”
Cas attached the “Save the Bees” pins to his trench coat pocket and it ended up crooked. Rolling her eyes, Claire said, “Let me.”
She reattached the pin and stepping back to look it over, decided, “You could actually make that coat look cool if you added more stuff to it.”
Cas looked down at himself. “Thank you.”
“Nothing’s gonna save that sweatshirt, though.” Couldn’t let his ego get too big.
“Dean said he liked it,” Cas said, glancing back at Dean, who was shooting an evil eye at Claire. He quickly wiped it off his face and draped an arm over Cas’ shoulders.
“Yeah, it’s uh… Charming.” He guided Cas away from Claire. “Don’t listen to her, she still thinks sarcasm is a personality trait.”
“Screw you, old man,” she called. Jack skipped after them and she checked her phone to see Kaia had texted her: How’s everything going? They drive you crazy yet?
They’re so weird, she texted back. Then she added, They’re not too bad.
“Come on, Jack,” she said, hurrying to catch up with him, Dean, and Cas. “Let’s go get our ears pierced.”
“Yay!” Jack cheered. He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the mall.
“Woah, woah, you’re not doing that,” Dean protested like the wet blanket he was.
“You can get yours pierced too,” Claire told him, and he faltered,
“I don’t want, we’re not—“
“You know you want to.” She let Jack lead her away and Dean called after them,
“We're never bringing you shopping again!”
Grinning, she turned to shout over her shoulder, “You know you love me!”
104 notes · View notes
samwilsonsbabymama · 4 years
Text
A Change of Scenery
Pairing: Single Dad!Angel Reyes x Single Mom Black!Reader (but anyone can read)
Summary: Reader moves to Santo Padre and meets the father of her daughters best friend.
Warning: hella fluff like it’s all fluff lol
Word Count: < 2,900
A/N: This is based off of this post that I made a few days ago. Huge thanks to @my-rosegold-soul​ for being such a big help with this and for being an all around amazing person 💖I hope yall like it!
✨I don’t give anyone permission to copy/translate/repost/rewrite my work. Minors, DNI at all. ✨
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"And AJ said that I could come to his house whenever I wanted, mommy," your daughter, Imani, said, causing you to smile. This wasn’t the first time that Imani had brought up going to Aj’s house, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. You continued listening as she told you about how excited she was to see AJ at daycare as you drove.
You had moved to Santo Padre on a whim a few months ago after spending your entire life in the big city. You were tired of the fast paced life and you needed a change of scenery, so, with very little planning, you'd packed up all of your stuff, and you and Imani moved. 
At first, you had been worried that Imani wouldn’t adjust well to being in a new environment, but after a few days in her new daycare, Imani had made a few friends. One friend, in particular, was the constant topic of conversation. 
AJ and Imani were in the same class and came to be fast friends. From the first day you picked her up, all Imani could talk about was AJ this and AJ that. You loved hearing about the ‘adventures’ that the two 5 year-olds got up to at daycare. 
After you had pulled into the daycare parking lot, you began to walk Imani to the door. 
"Mani!" a small voice called out to your daughter causing you both to turn.
"AJ!" Imani responded and pulled the little boy into a hug.
You chuckled as you watched the two embrace.
"So this is Imani?" a voice rumbled next to you causing you to turn. 
As your eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight shining in your face, you were taken aback by the man in front of you. He had dark hair just long enough for a few strands to fall into his eyes. His plump lips held a hint of mischief behind his smirk. His brown eyes were dark and you felt yourself wanting to get lost in them for hours. Your eyes traveled down his body catching the name “Romero Brothers” on his work shirt.
Your eyes trailed along the tattoos on his arms down to the many rings that adorned his fingers. You imagined what they would feel like against your skin. As you continued sizing the man up, you bit your lip almost forgetting where you were. 
When he cleared his throat, you snapped your eyes back up to his only to be met with a breathtaking smile. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment and you stuck your hand out towards him.
“I’m Imani’s mom, Y/n,” you said and your voice trembled when he reached out and took it. You’d half expected for his hands to be rough and dry, but you were pleasantly surprised to find they weren’t.
“Nice to meet you, Y/n. I’m Angel, AJ’s dad,” he said as he shook your hand.
“It seems as though our kids are best friends; Imani talks about AJ all the time,” you smiled.
“Yeah, Imani is famous in our house.” If it were possible, Angel’s smile got bigger as he spoke.
“Mommy, it’s hot,” Imani interjected before you could respond to Angel. You looked down at your daughter and smiled as she impatiently stood in front of you.
“I guess we should get these two inside,” you said to Angel as you reached for the door.
“Here, let me get that for you,” he said as he moved to open the door for you and the kids. You smiled and whispered “Thank you” as you walked into the building to sign Imani in.
When you were done signing her in, you turned to look back at Angel. When you noticed that he was talking to one of the teachers, you waved Imani ‘Goodbye’ and headed out the door.
A few days passed since you met Angel, and you were still buzzing. Never in your life had you felt this way, not even when you were with Imani’s father. You didn’t want to read too much into this, especially since you had only met this man once, but you were dying to see him again.
As if the Universe had decided to grant your wishes, two weeks after meeting Angel, you ran into him again. Only this time, it wasn’t at the daycare. You’d taken a day off work to get some errands done while Imani was at daycare. You’d been out all day, and your last stop before going to pick your daughter up was the carnicera. 
The sight that greeted you when you walked into the only butcher shop in town made your heart skip a beat.
“I’ll be right with you,” Angel said. His back was still to the door as you made your way to the counter.
“Take your time,” you responded with a smile.
At the sound of your voice, Angel stopped doing whatever he was doing and slowly turned to face you. His face lit up when he saw you and his smile caused you to smile.
“It’s good to see you again, Y/n,” Angel said as you got closer.
“You too. I thought you worked at Romero’s?” You questioned.
“Been thinking about me, hmm?” Angel smirked and you rolled your eyes. “I do, but this is my pops shop, I’m helping him out for a bit.”
“Felipe is your dad?” Angel nodded. “Yeah, I can see it now.” You laughed.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Angel chuckled. “Now what can I get for you?”
You rattled off the different cuts of meat that you needed, and Angel quickly got to work. When he rang up your total, it was considerably less than usual.
“Umm, Angel,” you said with a bit of hesitation. “You didn’t ring me up for the correct amount.”
“Sure I did,” he said with an easy smile.
“Usually it’s twice this price,” you replied.
“Oh, we’re running a special today,” Angel replied and you quirked your eyebrow. “Pretty girls get half off.” He winked at you.
“Angel, I can’t let you do that, what would your father say?” You replied with a slight chuckle.
He shrugged, “Why don’t we do this instead. Why don’t you and Imani meet me and AJ at the park this Saturday for a play date in exchange?”
“Angel, I can’t do that. I’ll pay full price, and we’ll meet you at the park,” you countered.
“Too late. I’ve already put it in the register, can’t change the price,” he said as he took the money from your hand and quickly counted your change.
You stood there dumbfounded as he moved quickly handing you your change and meat.
“Great, so AJ and I will see you and Imani on Saturday at the park at noon,” he stated as you took hold of your purchase.
You snapped out of your stupor. “We’ll be there,” you said with a smile before you turned and walked out of the door.
Holy shit.
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Saturday didn’t come fast enough. You hadn’t told Imani about meeting up with Angel and AJ at the park, opting for it to be a surprise.
When Saturday finally came, you readied Imani for her playdate and grabbed your purse before the two of you headed out. Normally when you took her to the park, you didn’t really put much thought into what you wore, but this time, you did. You still wore comfortable clothes expecting  Imani would want you to play with her, but they were nicer than usual. You actually wanted to impress Angel.
The drive to the park was short and as soon as you parked, you spotted Angel and AJ near the slide. When you helped Imani out of her car seat, you pointed towards the slide.
“Imani, is that AJ?” You asked with fake shock.
Imani’s head snapped towards where you were pointing and she took off running towards her best friend. You laughed and followed behind her and watched as AJ ran up to her. The two grasped hands and took off running towards the slide.
As you walked behind Imani, you took in Angel’s appearance as he moved towards you. His hair no longer fell into his eyes and his beard was freshly lined up. He wore a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, putting all of his tattoos on display.
“Hi, Y/n,” he said, pulling you from your thoughts.
“Hi, Angel,” you smiled back.
The two of you walked towards the park bench where you could see the two kids playing together on the equipment. As you sat in silence while watching the kids play, your mind drifted back to the man sitting next to you. Why was such a gorgeous man single? Obviously someone had snatched him up at one point in time, but why would they let him go?
“So, Y/n, what brings you to Santo Padre?” He asked as he turned slightly to face you.
You’d shrugged. “Just needed a change, I guess,” you responded. “I’d done the high city thing my whole life, and I didn’t like it much. It was too busy, too fast-paced, ya know?”
Angel nodded, “Makes sense. But why Santo Padre?”
“Because it’s close enough to my family but far enough where I won’t have any unexpected visitors.” You laughed and Angel laughed along with you.
The two of you continued talking about life and parenthood as the children played. Before long, you noticed a food truck parked down the street and the four of you walked to it and grabbed something to eat. When you reached for your wallet to pay for Imani’s and your food, Angel quickly slid his card through the machine stating that since he invited you out, he was going to pay for your food. When you attempted to argue, he shot you a look that quickly ended the discussion. 
As the four of you ate, you listened to Imani and AJ talk about all the games they played at the park. When the four of you were done, you noticed how tired Imani and AJ were, and as much as you didn’t want the day to end, you had to.
“I think it may be time to head back home, Mani,” you said as you lifted the sleepy child into your arms.
She and AJ let out quiet protests at the same time.
Angel nodded his head as he also lifted AJ into his arms. You laughed as the little boy could barely keep his eyes open and you imagined that Imani was doing the same. You and Angel walked side by side back to your cars and you noticed that you had parked near him. When the two of you had both kids buckled safely in their car seats, met each other behind your car. 
“I had a great time with you, Y/n,” Angel said.
“Me too,” you responded as you looked into his eyes.
“Look, y/n, I hope this isn’t too forward, but I would really like to see you again,” Angel said after a few moments of silence.
“That would be nice,” you agreed. “These two had a blast.”
“No, I mean, just you and me. I mean I would love to do this again and have a playdate for these two, but I want to take you out on a date. If that’s what you want.” Angel ran his hand through his hair as if it were a nervous habit.
“Really?” You were shocked. “I mean, yeah, I’d love to go on a date with you.”
“Great,” he smiled. “Here, put your number in my phone, and I’ll call you later.”
You reached out and took his phone and put your number in before handing it back. “I’m looking forward to hearing from you, Angel.” You smiled and turned to get into your car and waited for him to get into his before you turned it on. You were about to start playing some music when your phone rang. It wasn’t a number that you recognized, but you answered it anyway.
“Hello?” You answered.
“It’s later.” Angel’s voice came through the receiver.
You chuckled and looked to your right to see him sitting in his car smiling at you. 
“I was thinking,” Angel began, “that we could go out tomorrow night around 8 pm. I could come to pick you up, or we could meet somewhere, whichever you’re comfortable with.”
You chewed your bottom lip. “I don’t know if I can find a babysitter with such short notice.” You really wanted to go out with him, but you needed more time to get a babysitter.
“No worries,” Angel replied. “You can use AJ’s sitter and I’ll leave AJ with my dad.”
You laughed. “Are you sure?”
You watched Angel as he nodded ‘yes’. “Look, I’ll give her a call when I get home and I’ll have her call you. Her name’s Leticia, but we call her Letty, and she’s great with AJ. I’m sure Imani will love her.”
You looked back at your still sleeping daughter and smiled. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
“Great!” Angel exclaimed. “Alright, I’ll give Letty a call right now and I’ll have her call you tonight.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” you smiled. “I’ll talk to you later, Angel.”
“Y/n?” Angel said before you could hang up. “Could you let me know when you get home? I want to make sure that you two get there safely.”
Your heart stuttered. “Of course. Will you let me know when you get home as well?”
Angel responded with a ‘yes’ before you two finally hung up promising to talk later. On your drive home, you thought about your life choices and how they brought you to Santo Padre. You were excited to start this new chapter of your life, and you couldn’t wait to see what new experiences were in store for you.
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Your first date with Angel was nothing short of perfect. You found that the two of you had so much in common, and soon, you found yourself on dates two, three, and four. 
Months later, your relationship with Angel was still going strong. The two of you constantly talked on the phone and texted each other, and you often spent your nights and weekends cooking for four instead of two. You were taking things slow, always choosing to go home rather than spending the night. Each time you stayed late, leaving got harder, and Angel always respected your decision.
And this is where you found yourself, currently stretched out on Angel’s couch with his arm wrapped around you. Imani and AJ were already asleep on the floor and the movie that you all were watching was long forgotten as you two talked. Somehow, the two of you made it to your ex’s and you weren’t sure how you’d made it this far into the relationship without talking about them, but here you were.
“I thought things were good,” you stated with a shrug. “But then he just up and left one day. Imani was 7 months old when he left, and it’s just been us ever since.”
“I completely understand,” Angel sympathized. “AJ’s mom had us all fooled but one day while I was at work, she dropped him off with my pops and we haven't seen her since. AJ was one. I don’t even know if he remembers her.”
After a few moments of silence, you glanced at your watch and shifted to sit up.
“I think we should head home now,” you said as you stood up.
Angel remained silent as you bent down to pick Imani up. You tried your best to not wake her because you knew she’d be grumpy if you did.
“You can always spend the night, Y/n,” there was a hint of hesitation in Angel’s voice as he spoke. “I mean, you don’t have to, but the offers there.”
You halted your movements and stood back up. “Angel, I-”
“I’ll sleep on the couch if that makes you more comfortable. I just,” he paused and ran his hand over his face. “You shouldn’t be driving this late at night. Please stay?”
You chewed your bottom lip. He was absolutely right, you were too tired to drive, so you nodded your head.
“Imani can sleep in AJ’s room, he has a second bed for when his cousins' sleepover,” Angel explained. The two of you carried the sleeping children to AJ’s room and tucked them in before leaving. 
You two stood in the hallway for a few seconds, smiling at each other before Angel leaned in for a kiss. Angel pulled back after a few minutes and placed his forehead on to yours as you both caught your breath.
“Good night, Y/n,” Angel whispered before he completely pulled away from you and walked back to the couch after taking you to his room. You changed into one of his shirts that you found and stood at the edge of his bed for a few seconds before you made your way back to the front of the house. 
The room was dark, but you could see his face as he scrolled on his phone. You cleared your throat and Angel’s eyes snapped to yours. 
“Angel, you don’t have to sleep on the couch,” you said as you fiddled with the hem of the shirt you were wearing. 
“You sure?”
“I mean,” you shrugged.“We can’t have sex, but I’d like to still sleep with you and I'm sure your bed is more comfortable than the couch.”
Angel swung his legs over so that his feet were touching the floor and you averted your eyes when you noticed that he was only wearing his boxers. You kept your eyes on the floor as he walked up to you and tilted your chin so that you were looking at him. “Mi dulce, I’ll do whatever you want.”
You took Angel’s hand in yours and led him back to his room. He watched as you climbed into his bed and flipped the covers back for him. You waited for him to climb in before you cuddled up against him and he quickly wrapped you into his arms.
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Part Two
A/N 2: If you ‘liked’ it, please reblog or leave a comment/reply even if it’s only an emoji.
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