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twistedmusings · 4 years ago

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Petting Dorm

A/N: I petted my cat for a good thirty minutes yesterday while I was watching the translation for the camp event and...surely the Savannaclaw members must like at least some pets, right? Like they must really want some pets after a good long hard day. Warnings: None, just descriptions of petting and three very happy boys u wu

The Savannaclaw members watch on as Grim gets the petting of a lifetime, wondering when the hell it is going to be their turn.

“Grim you are acting so spoiled.”

“Nyaha~! I deserve to be spoiled today! I aced my test while Ace and Deuce failed and me and Epel got a good grade in the potions assignment today!”

Grim leans back into your touch as you rub all the way to the tip of his ears before going right back down again. He lets out a happy grunt as his little foot starts to twitch, your hands now massaging right under his ears and near his cheeks before scratching right near the nape of his neck.

“Fgnaa...go a little lower!”

“Here?”

“Ah~! I really needed this. This is the reason I made you my henchman, [Y/N]”

“Because of how much I’m petting you?”

You press a kiss to Grim’s face, the other complaining for a moment before smiling as your finger rubs right on the top of his head. The two Ramshackle residents keep talking as they sit in the middle of the Savannaclaw lounge, many eyes staring at them but three sets of eyes in particular glaring at the cat currently laying his entire body on one of their pillows.

“[Y/N]-san...” Jack speaks up first as he watches Grim’s leg give another twitch, his eyes not even looking at you but focusing entirely on your hands.

“Hm?”

“Did you…” the wolf man can practically feel a shiver down his spine as you rub right under Grim’s ears, “Did you...uh...did you bring the assignment?”

“I did.” you play with Grim’s tail before running your hand up and down his back, “I thought you said you wanted to start when Ace and Deuce got here though.”

Leona growls when Grim lets out another satisfied sigh, watching your hands go right back up to play with his ears as you press the tips of them together and then watch them go back to their normal place.

“What is even keeping them so long?”

You shrug and rub a little circle right on Grim’s forehead, Ruggie following the movement with his head as he closed his eyes.

He could almost feel it--

Another slow and agonizing five minutes later and you sigh, shaking the shivers out of your hands as Grim is finally asleep, leg up in the air as you pull away from him and pull out your phone.

“Knowing those two they probably forgot…” you shake your head and stand up, “I’ll go get them--”

“NO!”

All Savanna claw members stand up as they lean towards you, eyes wide with different emotions as you do your best to understand their sudden outburst.

“What’s...what’s wrong?”

“You’re not leaving.”

You blink and point to the exit.

“I’ll only be gone for a couple of minutes, I’m not going to take long--”

“Sit down.”

It was frustrating that you couldn’t disobey this man even if you wanted to. The way he did anything was just so annoyingly confident that you weren’t even surprised when you simply sat down on whatever chair was available before Leona plopped himself in front of you and put his head on your lap.

“You have a lot of nerve petting that raccoon in front of me.” he glares at you before closing his eyes and leaning further back, ears twitching expectantly as you look down at him in, well, rather justified confusion.

“I’m...sorry?” you put your hands up and look at Jack and Ruggie, “I honestly do not know what to do, what is he talking about?”

You can practically feel Leona’s growl against you as he grabs your hands and puts them on his hair, letting your fingers reach deep into the dark waves as he visibly relaxes and lets you go.

“Whatever the hell you did to that cat monstrosity you better do for me...and if it isn’t as good that it makes me fall asleep in five minutes then I’ll be using you as one of my pillows.”

What...the hell?

Your eyes look over at Ruggie and Jack but they don’t even seem to be paying attention to you, simply looking on as you start to do some of the things you remembered doing for Grim.

He smiles as the petting finally starts, his ears being played with gently before your hands rub the tips and press them flat on his head. They give a solid twitch as they pop back up, twitching once again as they pick up your slight chuckling.

Now he understood why the raccoon had been so vocal about this treatment. Feeling your hands reach right under his ears and scratch made him let out a happy groan, tilting his head back as he gave you more room to play with.

You scratch the back of his head with one hand while the other does little cross shapes on his forehead, Leona opening his eyes to watch you work so diligently on putting him to sleep.

“Is this something you do every day for that thing?”

“His name is Grim.” you say and go back to playing with his ears, “And no, not all days. Only when he does really good.”

Leona closes his eyes as he moves his head to the right as your fingers scratch one spot in particular.

“Is that all it takes?”

“Yeah...I mean it keeps him motivated.”

He stays quiet for a few seconds before speaking up again.

“I stayed awake during one of Crewel’s lectures.”

You stop scratching to look down at him, amazed at what he just told you.

There was no way that was true.

“Awake?”

“Uh-huh.”

“As in fully awake? Listening to the lecture awake?”

“Uh-huh.”

“...what was the lecture about?”

Leona yawns and opens one eye to look at you.

“Advanced Magical History.”

You frown knowing for a fact that you cannot quiz him on anything since you still weren’t in that class. The reason for him telling you this was lost on you for a moment before you looked down in surprise and realized what this really was about.

No way...

Had he told you about that...just to justify you petting him?

“That’s really good Leona-senpai” you test the waters carefully, running your hand through his hair as he tilted his head back so he could feel the pull of your hands a bit more. Your eyes widen when the dorm leader nods along to the rather shallow praises you were sending his way.

“I didn’t know you were such a hard worker.”

“Mmmhm.”

“Or able to stay awake for so long.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I always thought you were just a lazy lion who liked to sleep all day.”

“Mmmmmm.”

It takes your entire will of strength to not laugh at Leona’s face. This man usually had his guard up so much that no one could ever get a read on him but give him some scratches and he opened up like a kitten to a new owner?

You knew you had blackmail material in your hands but the prospect of using it was still rather terrifying.

Leona’s threats should never be taken lightly.

You finish by rubbing his ears and letting go, the dorm leader’s head lolling forward as you stand up and grab whatever cushion you can get your hands on and putting it under his head so that you can lay him on the ground softly.

That was...weird.

“...I’m going to get Ace and Deuce now. If we don’t finish this assignment we are going to be screwed."

“[Y/N]!”

What should he say? He had just called your name out randomly and put himself in danger of waking up Leona. Dammit think of something, Ruggie!

He seems to come up with an answer as his usual playful smile comes back, standing up and walking over to you as his tail wags slightly.

“I can go get them for you.”

You smile and take his hands, shaking them twice before plopping yourself down on another available seat.

“Ruggie-senpai you are so nice! I think they might be at Heartslabyul? Ace might have dragged Deuce in on a game of cards or they most likely got caught doing something they shouldn’t. If you have any problems just text--Ruggie-senpai?”

Blue gray eyes look up at you, Ruggie’s trademark smile shining up at you as he giggles.

“Shishishi...you really think I wouldn��t do this without a price, [Y/N]-san?”

He grins and grabs your hands again, putting them right under his ears as he closes his eyes.

“Ruggie-senpai our assignment--!”

“Five minutes! That’s plenty of payment for the walk I’m about to do all the way to Heartslabyul!”

“It isn’t that long of a walk!?”

Ruggie shrugs as moves his head so that it is at the most comfortable position on your lap.

“Hm, but I also will have to walk all the way back to Savannaclaw so maybe it should be ten…”

You should stop talking at this point or else the times were going to go up higher, your hands getting to work as you scratch right in between his ears, Ruggie’s grin melting into a satisfied smile as you dug your fingers into his hair and started to scratch right under his scalp which earned you a giggle.

This sort of petting was so different than the ones he would use to get in the Afterglow. Just some slum kids trying to give each other love and affection because in the end, they all needed it after a hard day. Petting someone like this was a sign of close friendship and even romance, if done with that intent, but Ruggie never thought humans would be any good at it.

Yet the way your hands rubbed small circles right on his forehead, the very action you had done to Grim, he was still surprised he was half awake and not falling asleep on your lap.

“Mmm...is there anything else that needs to get done, [Y/N]?”

You smile when you see him so relaxed, surprised at how comfortable he looked. This hyena ran around the school doing errand after errand and getting buck after buck. It was almost inspiring if it wasn’t for the fact that some of his dealing weren't necessarily...legal?

Not like you knew about law in Twisted Wonderland so you let it pass.

“Not really, not for me anyway.”

Ruggie pouts but still melts when you run your fingers through his hair, starting right at his forehead and working all the way to the back. His ears twitched as you rubbed the tips before pressing both of them together.

“Well I am not charging for the walk back but if you want me to wrangle up those two first years I should charge a bit more, so when I come back I want what Leona-san got--”

“Ruggie-senpai it’s been five minutes.”

Jack’s tail is curled around him while he looks away, his eyes only barely making contact with yours as he looked at Ruggie and then back at, well, nothing.

Ruggie clicks his tongue before standing up and shrugging.

“Fine. I guess I will take that as a down payment.” he grins at you, “I will take the full payment later!”

You want to ask just what kind of payment he was talking about but you decide to keep quiet because that man would find some way to convince you that, yes, you do owe him something and that your payment was going to not be your money but your time.

And you didn’t have a lot of that to be spending it all in one place.

He walks off and you lean back, smiling as your hands finally get a break. Grim’s fur was always so silky and if you were to compare it you would say it was the same as Leona’s hair but Ruggie’s was definitely a bit more rough. It wasn’t a bad sort of rough but you figured this was the difference between long haired and short haired animals.

Although since Leona was a lion wouldn’t he also have short hair? Or was his hair more like his mane?

And what about Jack?

You turn towards your friend, tilting your head as you catch him staring.

“I don’t know why but I always feel like I have to apologize for Ace and Deuce, Jack. Maybe it’s because I met them first?”

He shakes his head, “You shouldn’t apologize for their actions.”

“Well they are also my friends so...I figured I could do this much for them.”

You wiggle your fingers in front of your face as you send Jack a teasing smile, “Want me to pet you too?”

The wolf’s tail goes right up before Jack pushes it back down with a growl, his cheeks burning a beautiful bright red as he answers back.

“We should just wait for Ace and Deuce, I want to get this assignment done already.”

“Me too. But it’s going to be a few minutes before they come back.”

“Oi!”

You are already standing up when Jack complains, telling you that you really didn’t need to do any sort of things like that for him and that he was perfectly fine and didn’t want to get distracted--!

“You’re the only one who didn’t force me to pet him, Jack. Just relax and unwind!” you smile and sit right behind him and open your legs so that you could pull him back and let his head rest on your stomach. His neck now burns bright red as you scratch right under his ears which only served to make his leg bounce slightly while he slowly got accustomed to your touches.

He wondered if you would pet him when he was using his unique magic as well, although knowing him he would get on his back and present his stomach if it started feeling this good and he didn’t want Ace, Deuce or even you teasing him about it! It wasn’t that his was enjoying this to that point--!

It’s just that somehow you knew just what spots to scratch and for how long to scratch them that he was starting to feel weak.

“Hm. So you would be a long hair…” you mutter to yourself as Jack closes his eyes, pressing his cheek against your palm as you rub circles right on his temples, “I think I like your hair the most...but maybe I’m just playing favourites here.”

The wolf wants to ask you a bit more about him being your possible favourite from the Savannaclaw dorm but his jaw snaps shut when he sees his dorm leader start to get up, glaring at the two of you with a dry smile.

“So you’re the favourite, huh?”

Jack blinks as he looks back at you and then at Leona.

“Leona-senpai--!”

The lion moves closer as he presses his body right against Jack’s shoulder, grabbing one of your legs and putting it over his own shoulder so that you would fit both of them in between.

“Ow--! Owowowowow--I’m not that flexible, Leona-senpai!!”

“He got his turn and now I want another one. Get to work, herbivore.”

“Hey!”

The three of you look to see Ruggie pointing an accusatory finger in your direction.

“What are you hogging [Y/N] for! They still owe me! Move over!”

He shoves at Jack’s unoccupied shoulder, trying to make his way into the little nest as you feel your other leg being raised up--!

“Stop! What in the world do you think I am--and where is Ace and Deuce!?”

Ruggie blinks before looking around.

“Oh right...I was supposed to go get them.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst imagines #twst scenarios #savannaclaw #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #twst mc #twst x reader #//also I think Im in love with Ruggie now?#//Is that a thing that happened?

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lady-literature · 4 years ago

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Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form.

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet…

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion.

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time). She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day.

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #mlb x dc #jasonette #my typewriter #platonic dickinette #platonic timari

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contemplativepancakes · 4 years ago

Text

sunsets for somebody else

Daphne runs into her long lost husband arguing with another man in the grocery store. Things start to take a turn when she realizes they're married.

The bottle of bleach drops from Daphne’s hand into her cart, landing with a sloshing thud as she takes in the scene in front of her, frozen in her tracks. Emmanuel is standing right in front of her, arguing with another man about cleaning supplies.

Wearing a beige trench coat for some inexplicable reason—it’s almost 90 degrees outside—Emmanuel listens to a man who’s explaining in minute detail how to clean an oven. They’re both wearing wedding rings, and Daphne’s heart swells for a moment before she realizes it’s a different ring from the one she gave Emmanuel all those years ago.

“Dean, I don’t think this is safe for Jack. This is going to create noxious fumes,” Emmanuel says, squinting at the ingredients of the cleaner apparently-Dean had thrust at him.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, and Daphne squeezes the handle of her shopping cart harder, feeling faint. It’s not every day you come across your long lost husband at the Stop N’ Shop.

“I think the kid can take some fumes,” Dean says, plucking the bottle out of Emmanuel’s hands and putting it in the cart. “We wouldn’t even have to worry about this if someone didn’t let the pizza fall onto the bottom of the oven.”

“The directions said to put it directly on the middle rack!” Emmanuel protests, and Dean rubs a hand down Emmanuel’s back in a familiar way that makes Daphne’s stomach roil.

She’s not jealous, she’s not. She was just helping Emmanuel when she found him, after all. Their marriage was simply one of…convenience for Emmanuel. It’s not like he had a birth certificate with him, or a social security number. What did Daphne get out of all this? Well. Daphne looks at his cheek bones wistfully, her gaze dipping down to his strong forearms his trench coat is rolled up to reveal.

Dean rolls his eyes fondly, and then he tugs Emmanuel into his side, kissing him on the temple. Daphne jerks her stare away for a moment before returning it, noticing now that their wedding rings match.

“Emmanuel?” she chokes out, against her better judgment.

For a long second, she doesn’t think Emmanuel heard her, but he turns around. “Daphne?”

Daphne nods, her words forsaking her. She doesn’t miss the way Dean clutches possessively at Emmanuel’s hip.

“I…thought you were dead,” she finally says. “I filed a missing person report.”

Dean squints at her, before something like recognition passes over her face, and now that she thinks about it, Daphne recognizes him, too. He’s the one who showed up right before everything went to shit. Horror stories of Stockholm syndrome flash through her mind.

“Emmanuel, are you…happy?” she settles on.

Emmanuel gives her a smile, leaning harder into Dean. “I am.”

“Good. That’s. Good,” she says, a strangled look on her face, she’s sure. “Would you want to catch up some time?” she asks before she fully registers what’s coming out of her mouth.

Emmanuel gives her a warm smile. “I’d love that.”

As they set up a time to get coffee, Daphne tries to ignore the glare Dean levels at her throughout the whole conversation. He insists that their meeting be tomorrow, since apparently they won’t be in the area for long. Daphne tries to ignore the warning bells in her mind that tell her she’s about to get murdered and takes solace in the fact that at least they’re meeting in a public place.

Besides, even if Emmanuel’s husband is a serial killer, surely Emmanuel won’t let him murder her, right?

The next day, Daphne hems and haws as she debates what to wear. Whatever this is, it’s the exact opposite of a date, anyway. She knocks on the door of her foster child, Alex, to wake them up before she goes into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. Really, she’s just doing it for herself. She’s allowed to want to look nice!

When she finally deems herself as ready as she’s going to get, she goes back to Alex’s room to make sure they’re actually up. To her pleasant surprise, they’re sitting on the edge of their bed putting on their socks and almost ready. “Excited for school today?” she asks.

Alex makes a face at her. “Never,” they say, but their voice at least has the edge of a smile to it.

They’ve come a long way since they were first placed with her, and even though Daphne knows she shouldn’t be getting overly attached, she can’t help it. She walks down the steps and into the kitchen, deliberating for a moment on breakfast before putting frozen waffles into the toaster. If she’s about to get murdered while Alex is at school, she can at least make sure the last thing she made for them wasn’t cereal.

Alex tromps down the steps, dragging their bookbag behind them, and Daphne hides her smile behind her glass of orange juice. Alex lights up at the sight of the waffles, disturbingly easy to please, as always. They inhale them, as teenagers do, before putting their dishes in the sink. Daphne cracks open her laptop as they wait for the bus, attempting to get some of her work done for the day since she’ll be taking a break later for the coffee. She really hopes her boss doesn’t try and call her while she’s out.

Or, maybe she does. She’s not sure she’s prepared for the level of awkwardness that she’s about to go through, but maybe it won’t be as bad as she thinks. She really wants to know what Emmanuel has been up to for all of this time. She’s still…embarrassingly hung up on him, and it would be nice to get some closure.

The bus pulling up in front of the house jerks her out of her thoughts, and she gives Alex a wave before they race off to get on. She watches them settle into a seat with one of their friends, and smiles at the fact that they even have friends now.

In the end, Daphne doesn’t manage to get much work done before she clambers into her car and drives to the coffee shop they agreed on. She doesn’t really think she needs caffeine with the way her leg is bouncing already.

Emmanuel and Dean are already there when she walks in, Emmanuel with a cup of black coffee he’s dumping sugar packets into and Dean with something with whipped cream and chocolate syrup drizzled on top. She gives them a tentative wave before ordering hot chocolate for herself, settling herself delicately in the seat across from them.

“So,” Dean says. “You were Cas’s wife?”

She squints. “Cas?”

Emmanuel speaks up. “After I regained my memories, I remembered that was my name.”

“Oh.” Smiling weakly, she tries to reconcile that. “You have them all back now?”

Emman—Cas nods.

“Just forgot about me, though?” she tries to ask lightly, but it comes out a little garbled.

“You took advantage of him!” Dean explodes from the other side of the table, making Daphne flinch. “Who the fuck finds someone naked with no memories and marries them?”

“Dean,” Cas chastises, his arm shifting like he’s putting his hand on Dean’s thigh under the table.

“I was helping him,” Daphne says hotly. “Would you have just wanted me to leave him there?”

Cutting Dean off before he can say anything else, Cas looks at Daphne and smiles in a way that makes her heart flutter. “I’m very grateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to let you know I was alright.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his sugar monstrosity. He comes away with a whipped cream mustache, and it’s hard not to laugh as he wipes it away in total seriousness.

“So,” Daphne says. “You two have a kid? Jack?”

Scowling, which seems to be Dean’s automatic reflex, he exchanges a glance with Cas before softening. “Yeah, we have a kid. He’s four.”

Daphne thinks maybe Dean should have been a little bit more concerned about the fumes of cleaning chemicals if they have a four year old, but she keeps her judgments to herself. Cas beams. “He’s very bright.”

Returning the smile tentatively, Daphne asks, “How long have you two been married?”

“It’s almost our one year anniversary,” Dean says gruffly.

Daphne tries not to let it affect her, even if that’s more time than she ever got with Cas. “Practically newly weds, then!”

“It’s been an adventure; that’s certain,” Cas says, smiling serenely even as Dean elbows his ribs. “Tell us about you, Daphne. What have you been doing?”

Daphne shrugs a shoulder. “Oh, not too much.” Mourning the man I pulled out of the woods and saved and married, she doesn’t say. She knows Emmanuel never felt the same way about her that she did him. “I got approved to be a foster parent, so I’ve had a few kids come through.”

“Helping people has always been your calling,” Cas says softly.

Daphne takes a few minutes to gush about Alex, and her previous kids before them, before she notices Dean’s not actively glaring at her anymore.

“That’s…nice,” he begrudges when she finishes.

“What do you do, Dean?”

Looking like he just dropped something on his foot, he stammers before he hastily says, “I work construction.”

Daphne squints at him. She has the feeling he’s lying to her, but she has no idea why he would be.

“And what about you, Cas?”

“Oh, I mostly just take care of Jack.”

“You’re a stay at home dad?” she asks, the thought making her stomach twist into knots and heat rise to her face.

“Of a sorts,” Cas agrees.

God, they’re making it impossible to carry on a conversation with them. Daphne keeps a smile pasted to her face. “What do you two do for fun?”

“I’m convinced Dean thinks fun is superfluous,” Cas confides, even as Dean splutters at him. “But I like to drag him to thrift stores with me. Dean likes to bake, also.”

“I work on cars, too,” Dean says, and Daphne can feel his desperation to maintain his facade.

She tries not to quirk a smile at his discomfort. They chat for a while longer, Dean getting increasingly dodgy about the questions she asks before she finally excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her and looks down at the dank floor. Is she getting what she wanted out of this? She has no idea what she even imagined happening when she asked to catch up. Emmanuel running away with her? Maybe in her wildest fantasies. Taking a deep breath to ground herself, she looks in the mirror and checks her makeup, rubbing at her under eye circles before walking back out of the bathroom.

Cas is at the counter ordering another drink, for Dean, by the sound of the sugar content, and she walks over to him. Hesitating before she bites the bullet, she asks, “You’re not…like, being held against your will, right? That Dean seems,” she pauses, “interesting.”

Cas laughs warmly, putting a hand over Daphne’s. “No, nothing like that. This is a choice of my own free will, believe it or not. Dean is much more caring than he lets on.”

Well, Daphne’s not sure she believes it, but. At least he’s happy, and in the end, that’s all she’s ever wanted for him.

#supernatural #destiel #castiel #outsider pov #daphne allen #the born again identity #contemplative writing

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curlynerd · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday, Cas! Word Count: 3K Rating: T Summary: Appalled that Cas has never had a birthday party before, Jack drags Dean into his schemes to plan a surprise party for him. Dean finally works up the courage to tell Cas how he feels. Notes: love confessions, first kiss, lots of fluff, and lots of Cas' family showing up much they care

Also read on AO3!

"You've never celebrated Cas' birthday?!" Jack exclaimed by way of greeting at -- Dean groaned and rolled over to check the time. -- 6:47 in the morning.

"Jack..." Dean sighed, dragging his hand down his face and sitting up in bed. "We've been over this. You promised not to come barging in here until at least 8:30."

"Huh?" Jack titled his head at Dean before his gaze trailed over to the bedside clock. "Oh. Sorry. I forgot to check the time."

"All those God powers and you can't even conjure up a watch?" Dean grumbled as he threw the sheets off his legs and planted his feet on the floor. "Now what were you saying about Cas?"

"His birthday!" Jack's expression was too damn excitable for this early in the morning. "I was telling him about how we celebrated my birthday after Mrs. Butters left, and I asked him about his birthday, and he said he'd never celebrated one before!"

Dean frowned at Jack. This was what he was woken up for? "Kid, I don't think he has one. The dude's older than calendars."

Jack was undaunted. "Yeah, but he was born, right? Even angels are born."

Okay, it was way too early for existential questions. He needed coffee. Dean grunted his acknowledgment and dragged himself to his feet. "Did Cas say when his birthday was?"

"Well, no." Jack furrowed his brow for just a second before his face lit up in enthusiasm. "Why don't we celebrate today?"

Dean stared at Jack. Jack's eyes were wide and sincere and full of love, just like his dad's. And, apparently, just as effective. "Alright..." Dean said with a defeated sigh. Who was he to deny the kid a chance to make his dad happy? "Whacha wanna do for his birthday?"

Jack beamed. "A surprise party! With cake!"

"Yeah, I figured as much." Dean scrubbed at his hair and wiped the last of the sleep out of his eyes as he shuffled his feet into his slippers. "Coffee first, though. Then the store."

"What kind of cake should we make?" Jack asked an hour later, as he and Dean pondered every box mix the grocery store had to offer.

“Hmm…” Dean eyeballed the box of funfetti mix. Jack would probably like that one best. It had sprinkles baked in. Dean kind of wanted a classic chocolate cake. And Cas, well. He wouldn’t care. He’d probably take two bites at most, just to appease Jack.

“This one.” Dean’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he reached for a box and held it out for Jack.

“Angel food cake?” Jack read.

Dean nodded, his grin widening at his little joke. “Yeah! It’s special. Angels love it, ya know.”

Jack tilted his head at Dean, then the box, before a smile bloomed across his face. “You gave me angel food cake once. I really liked it! Is that why you got it for me?”

Dean thought back to that drive, and his little snack cakes morality test. “Yup. That was definitely why.” He snatched the box from Jack’s hand and tossed it into the cart before he could ask more questions. “Let’s wrap this up before Cas wonders why we’ve been gone so long.”

If Cas was ignorant of Jack’s birthday plans before, he wasn’t for long. Neither Dean nor Jack thought to do much to conceal the contents of their shopping bags when they returned home. Or figure out a way to keep Cas from wandering the bunker. So when he stumbled upon the two of them hauling bags toward the kitchen, both Dean and Jack traded suspicious glances.

“Dean and I will be in the kitchen for awhile,” Jack said seriously, cutting straight to the chase. “Do not come in there though!”

“Oh?” Cas’ gaze flickered down to their bags. A package of birthday hats stuck out of the opening of one. A canister of rainbow sprinkles was nestled at the top of another. His mouth twitched as his eyes softened with warmth. When they met Dean’s eyes, Dean’s stomach did a flip. Cas’ eyes grew even warmer.

‘He loves you,’ Dean’s thoughts helpfully supplied at the worst possible moment, ensuring Dean’s face burned with a fierce blush right as Cas looked his most adoring. Dean hastily averted his gaze.

Cas hadn’t been back from the Empty for long, only a couple of weeks really. But it felt like an eternity.

Because Dean hadn’t told him yet. He hadn’t looked him in the eyes and said ‘I love you too.’ Hadn’t dragged him in by the lapels of his stupid trenchcoat and kissed him senseless. Hadn’t held him close and promised him that he could have Dean, all of him, for as long as he wanted to keep him.

The moment had never been right. There were always people around. Jack. Sam. So many of their friends, eager to see them and celebrate their victory over Chuck and their newfound freedom. Things were only now starting to quiet down, and still Dean hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him.

“It’s for a surprise,” Jack continued, pulling Dean from his thoughts. “Er, not a surprise! We’re not planning any surprises!” Dean barely controlled his eyeroll. The kid really needed to work on his lying. “It’s something you can’t know about until later. So don’t even think about peeking!”

Cas and Dean traded knowing looks. Dean shrugged a little. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cas assured Jack.

Jack brightened. “Great! Come on, Dean. Let’s go!” He practically skipped toward the kitchen, radiating enthusiasm with every step. Dean sighed and followed after him, already anticipating the huge mess at the end of all this. At least it was just box mix. That was easy enough to handle.

As it turned out, even box mix wasn’t foolproof.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Jack asked in concern. He poked at the misshapen mess of their cake.

“Probably not.” Dean shrugged. It was a disaster zone, is what it was. Apparently angel food cake required a special pan. It looked similar enough to a bundt pan, though, so Dean thought it was an okay substitute. Clearly not. Or maybe they overmixed it? Was that why it sunk into this lumpy, craggy mess and then fell apart when they tried to shake it out of the pan?

“But ya know, homemade cake never looks as fancy as the stuff you get at the store, but it tastes just as good.” He slapped Jack on the back. “Put some frosting on this thing, maybe some decorations, and we’re golden.”

And so they set to work. Jack clearly had a vision of what he wanted, pulling supplies from the pantry to add to the disaster cake. He insisted on covering it in a thick layer of chocolate frosting, even though Dean tried to tell him angel food cake didn’t usually need it. It was vital to what he was creating. A full hour passed, and somehow the thing looked even worse than when it first flopped out of the pan.

“Cas is gonna love it,” Dean said anyway, because he knew it was true. Jack beamed with pride.

“At what point am I no longer banned from the kitchen?” Almost as if on cue, Cas’ voice called out from down the hallway. “Am I allowed to walk past it? I’d like to go into the library.”

“You can come in!” Jack yelled back, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

Dean looked around at the decoration-less kitchen, the party hats and the balloons still in their packaging. “Wait, hold on--” he began, but it was too late.

“SURPRISE!” Jack shouted as Cas rounded the corner. “Happy birthday, Cas!”

“A surprise for me?” Cas didn’t even seem to notice that the only things in the kitchen were a weird brown blob of cake and a massive mess. He was smiling from ear to ear at Jack with that special, endeared smile parents reserved just for their children. “But I told you I didn’t have a birthday,” Cas said. Which he and Jack had talked about literally hours ago. Before Jack raced off to talk with Dean and plan an impromptu trip to the store before baking all morning.

Yeah. Cas definitely knew what Jack was planning today.

“Well, Jack decided today was your birthday. So, happy birthday.” Dean shrugged a little in a ‘Kids. What can ya do?’ sort of way.

Cas’ expression softened. “Today is a perfect day for a birthday.”

“We made a cake!” Jack bounded over to Cas and practically dragged him to the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?”

“It is…” Cas frowned and knit his eyebrows together at the monstrosity before him. “An inside-out hedgehog?”

“It’s a Sarlacc Pit!” Jack exclaimed while Dean clutched at the table, doubled-over with laughter. Jack pointed out the pretzel rods jutting out around the misshapen, lumpy hole in the center of the sunken cake. They’d done their best to make the chocolate frosting around it look like smooth sand, but of course it was way too brown. And bits of warm cake kept breaking off while they iced it. “That’s its teeth, and that’s the sand. It’s a Star Wars cake!”

“Oh, of course it is!” Cas said generously. He patted Jack’s shoulder. “It’s wonderful, Jack. And Dean.” He nodded at Dean, who was still trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah we’ve got ourselves the next Cake Boss over here. If the God thing doesn’t work out.” Dean’s voice rippled with laughter. He snatched up the bag of party hats and ripped it open. Cas looked exceedingly tolerant as Dean snapped one on his head with an impish grin. “So birthday boy, whacha wanna do on your special day?”

“Oh I know!” Jack exclaimed. His enthusiasm was infectious. “First we’ve gotta…”

The day wound up being more about Jack than Cas. Or rather, Jack doing all the things he loved to do with Cas. There was a Star Wars movie marathon. There was cake. There were more board games than Dean had played in a lifetime. Dean had a sneaking suspicion Cas let Jack win most of them.

But Cas had smiled almost non-stop the entire day, probably more than Dean had seen the entire thirteen years since he’d met him. And yeah, Dean knew why. What was better to do on his birthday than spend time with his kid?

By the end of the day, even Cas was looking a little tired. Dean was absolutely exhausted. He was half-tempted to drag himself to bed early, but when Jack finally retired to his own room to give Dean and Cas some time together, there wasn’t any hesitation about settling down in his favorite armchair, Cas beside him, with two glasses of Dean’s favorite whiskey to share.

The drink was warming through his limbs, but the light in Cas’ eyes was warmer. He looked content, if not a little overwhelmed by all the love his little family had shown him today. Dean leaned back in his chair and let the peacefulness of the moment wash over him.

“You know, it’s serendipitous Jack chose today for my birthday.” Cas smiled down at his glass.

Dean cracked a sleepy eye open. “Yeah? Why?”

“Well, today is the anniversary of the day I raised you from perdition.”

Dean stared at Cas. Cas eyes twinkled with nostalgia. “Really?” Cas nodded, and Dean laughed. “Well then I suppose it’s really my re-birthday.”

Cas chuckled. “I’ll remind Jack to bake two cakes next year.” They fell into easy silence, nursing their drinks as they reflected on the years.

“It really is a good birth date,” Cas said awhile later. “I may have been alive for eons before then, but the day I met you was when I changed...That was when I really started living.”

Dean’s heart leapt into his throat, Cas’ love confession ringing in his ears. “Didn’t I stab you?” he joked weakly, deflecting the spiraling nerves that bubbled up in his chest.

Cas laughed. “Yes. Yes, you did. I didn’t realize it at the time, but even then you were making me feel. Mostly confusion,” he added with a wry twist of his lips. “I saved you from eternal damnation, and you repaid me by stabbing me in the chest!” Despite his amusement, Cas’ eyes were overflowing with warmth and affection. Dean could almost read the thoughts going on behind them. ‘I fell a little bit in love with you right then.’

“What can I say? I have that effect on people.” ‘Now,’ his thoughts urged. ‘Tell him now!’ “I dunno what I’d have done without you,” Dean mused around a sip of whiskey. A little more liquid courage. A little more and he could do this.

“Another angel would have been sent. You would have been pulled from Hell anyway.”

“Not what I meant, Cas,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “All of it. All the crap we’ve been through. All the crap Chuck put us through. Put me through.” He watched the way the warm lamplight reflected off his drink. “I...I’m glad I had a best friend through it all. You know?”

“Yes,” Cas said, but there was a twinge of sadness in his voice that made Dean look up. He was smiling softly, but the longing in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Dean sighed. His gut churned with fear and guilt and yearning. He knew Cas loved him. And he knew he loved Cas. Hell, he’d known that for a helluva lot longer than he’d known of Cas’ feelings. He just needed one little push to make him confront those feelings head-on.

“Ya know, I think I have one more present for you.” Dean set his glass down with heavy meaning. He nodded to himself and stood up, his jaw set firm, his eyes determined.

“You do?” Cas started to ask. “What--” And before he could finish his sentence, Dean crawled into the chair with him, his knees straddling Cas’ hips, bracing himself against the backrest with one hand. Cas’ eyes went huge. “Dean?” His voice trembled.

Dean was pretty sure he looked even more nervous, but he’d be damned if he owned up to it. “Hey birthday boy,” he hummed, forcing a flirtatious smile despite the anxiety pounding in his chest. He was going to kiss Cas. God how he wanted to kiss Cas.

But instead of looking delighted Cas looked...hurt. “Dean, you don’t have to do this for me.”

Dean’s heart went cold. “For you? You don’t think I want this?”

“No,” Cas said simply. Honestly. His bright blue eyes were so close now, but the heartache in them was almost painful to look at.

Dean swallowed thickly. “Well then you’re dumber than you look,” he teased, forcing bravado he did not feel. Dean leaned in until his forehead rested against Cas’. He could feel Cas’ warm breath across his lips. “Cas, if I could pick anyone in the whole damn world to be with, it’d be my best friend. You know that, right?” Cas licked his lips. Dean yearned to tilt his head down and catch them with his own. “But I thought you didn’t...Couldn’t...Well, I thought love wasn’t something angels did.”

“But I told you, Dean. When the Empty came, I told you--”

“Yeah I know. But you know how I drag my ass for important stuff.” That finally elicited a tiny puff of laughter from Cas. Dean smiled. “Come on, man. Cut me some slack. Lemme use this as an excuse to nut up and kiss you.”

As it turned out, Dean didn’t need to, because Cas surged up and pressed their lips together.

Dean gasped into the kiss as his hand resettled itself on Cas’ shoulder. Cas’ glass clattered as he hastily set it on the table in order to hold Dean’s waist with both hands. Cas kissed like he was starving for it, voracious and desperate, licking his way into Dean’s mouth without preamble and moaning deeply into the heat he found there.

Dean gave as good as he got, letting over a decade of longing finally escape through the hot, greedy press of their lips together, through the long trailing kisses along Cas’ jaw while Cas dragged his hands down Dean’s back and up underneath his shirt.

“We should...do this in my room…” Dean whispered in Cas’ ear as his teeth nipped at the sensitive area. Cas nodded and, without warning, stood up with Dean still wrapped around him. Dean startled and reflexively jerked his feet down toward the floor, though he realized with delight that Cas could almost certainly carry him the entire way if he wanted. Later. He’d test that out later. For now Dean grabbed Cas by the tie with a lecherous twinkle in his eye and hauled him in the direction of his bedroom. Soon to be their bedroom, if Dean had anything to say about it.

Much, much later, when they were tangled together beneath the sheets with Dean’s head nestled on Cas’ chest, Dean realized that Cas had been wrong. Because his happiest moment wasn’t when the Empty took him away. It wasn’t in just saying how he felt.

Because it was in loving, yes, but it was also in being loved.

Because when Dean peeked up at Cas’ face, he was radiating so much happiness Dean’s heart ached from it. Today was the happiest he’d ever been. And perhaps tomorrow, if Dean had anything to say about it, tomorrow he’d be even happier.

Cas’ eyes were full of love as he carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I know I don’t have any others to compare this against, but today was a very good birthday.”

“Good.” Dean pressed a sleepy kiss to Cas’ skin as his eyes drifted closed. “You deserve it.”

#destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #supernatural #castiel #happy birthday cas #dadstiel #spn #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #jack kline #dean winchester #katie writes things

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sweetea-rosey · 4 years ago

Note

Ooo hi I saw you take requests? I have a writing request if you want to :))

So here is my idea:

Remus has a notebook given to him by the other sides to write his thoughts down in. See, Remus has clear impulse control problems so this notebook of for him to write his thoughts down instead of just doing and saying whatever comes to mind. It gives him a chance to think about it. Sometimes, maybe like once a week give or take a few days one of the other sides will sit down with him and read his thoughts with him just to make him feel validated and heard. Well this particular time one of the sides (of your choice) sat down with the notebook and found some rather interesting things.

Now, you can take this one of two ways (it’s really all up to you!)- You can make this something angsty (hurt comfort), or you can make it something shippy! It can be any Remus ship you want but I personally am more partial to intrulogical hehe 💙💚

Take your time and have fun with it!! Have a good day :)

Ah! Ty for the request! I started writing it on the day you submitted it, but Tumblr deleted it after a while of not saving :') so now my motivation to do this is deterred

Anyway, this'll be my first time not writing something Roman centric =w=""

Remus held the book in his hands. He remembered the day Roman gave it to him, when he risked traveling into the dark scape because he knew his brother needed this. Because he did, too.

An outlet.

A place for his monstrosities to be, other than inside his head, allowed to torture him to their best abilities. The illusions his mind creates are no longer just in his eyes. It's no longer insanity- it's creativity. The journal isn't the first one. But he and Roman make sure to keep eachother stocked up; they get filled rather quickly. The Imagination holds an entire library dedicated to their filled journals from over the years.

The journals have also become sort of diaries to them. So, imagine what were to happen if one of them got lost? The possibility of their secrets being seen by unbidden eyes.

Remus burst into Roman's room, "Ro!"

Roman jumped from his spot at his desk, "Jeez- ! What is it?"

Oddly, for Remus, he seemed almost anxious, "Have you seen my latest journal?"

Ah, that explains it. Roman understands the severity of losing something that holds your private thoughts. He stood up from his desk chair, turning to face Remus better, "No, I haven't. Is it missing?"

Remus nodded, unable to speak through the panic coursing through his veins, the hormone mixing with the feeling of the plasma we call blood rushing through veins and arteries, rest in his heart, which is thumping with vigor, the- Remus shook himself. The imagery coming on its own with nothing to do with it, "Thoughts, thoughts thoughts, thoughts, blood, where? Everywhere? It is me, I am thoughts and blood and gore and death and slime, and..."

Roman pulled his brother in, the physical touch of his second half grounding him, finally balanced out with his brother there to help him.

"Breathe, Ree...I get it...I'll help you look for it, okay? Do you have any spare journals?"

Remus shook his head. He had just started this one, he was too busy brainstorming on the pages to remember to restock.

"Okay, do you have the focus to conjur any, right now?"

Remus shook his head again. No no, of course not! He's too focused on the one that's missing!

"Alright, that's okay, Ree. I get it. Here, use this for now," As Roman spoke, he pressed a plain black book in the unstable man's hands, "Get some thoughts out on that, then we can start looking, okay?"

Instead of answering, he made the rest of the way into the prince's room and started letting the thoughts out.

"Feel better?"

Remus let out a breath and nodded, "A lot, thanks. Can we go look, now?"

"Of course, let's go."

It took hours. The sun was gone in Thomas' living room and they were still tearing the place apart, searching absolutely everywhere. Remus was tempted to just dismantle the mind palace and look through the stuff that gets left behind. The fear was boiling in his gut in the ocean of acid.

"What if we don't find it? My blood, sweat, and tears went into that book! Pieces of my heart are in there, I can't lose it, what if someone else finds it and reads it?"

Roman shuddered, because he didn't believe that Remus was being metaphorical, "I understand the severity of the situation, Ree. We should go look in the Lightside, now..."

Remus shrugged as much as his slumped posture will allow, "Sure..."

"We'll find it, Ree..."

"That's not what I'm worried about. If I lose it? Fine, I have others, I can start a new one. I'm scared of someone else finding it and reading it... there's things in there I don't want others seeing..."

"I get it, you know I do. We'll get it back before anyone else can even know it exists, alright?"

Remus just shrugged off his comforting hand, "Stupid prince, always making promises you don't even know if you can keep. Don't do that to yourself and don't do it to me. I'm not stupid enough to fall for that shit."

Roman recoiled, almost physically, "Sometime, people just need reassurance."

"And then, when you're wrong? I know you don't like breaking promises, Princey."

"...Then hopefully we'll figure it out."

"You're such a fucking optimist, it's gross."

Roman rolled his eyes, "I'm helping you look, be nice, you doofus."

"Oh wow, "doofus", I'm so offended," Remus said without much effort.

Roman ignored him.

"It's not HERE!" Remus screamed, a pot crashing through the wall.

Roman manged to muffle the noise and quickly put it back together, "We will, this was only the first room in the Lightside. You need to calm down."

"I can't! What if someone else already found it and read it? What if they hate me? What if they never wanna talk to me again because nothing in there makes sense, what-"

Roman caught his hands, "Woah! Woah...Remus, when did you start caring so much about what the others think of you?"

"I don't!"

"But...-"

"I don't care about what Logan and the other think of me."

"Of what...Logan and the...? Remus...is this about Logan?"

Remus hesitated just long enough.

"Oh great Aphrodite, it is..."

"Aphro-? NO! No, I don't!"

"Remus, is there something about Logan on that book?"

Remus said fuck it in his mind and sighed, "Yes... I...some fantasies...that he might not approve of..."

"Oh, Remus..."

"What if he finds out, and he...? He just doesn't...?"

Roman hit his brother on the head, "This is why you're a doofus. It doesn't matter if he finds it, you have nothing to worry about."

Remus rolled his eyes. Literally. He rolled them like dice and Roman had to look away, but got the message.

"How would you know?"

It was Roman's turn to roll his eyes (PROPERLY).

"I'm leaving you to figure that out. But, I do."

"Sure. Whatever. Asshole."

Roman moved on to look in the next room.

A flash of green leaped onto him and he was tumbling over, the item in his hands flying out.

"Remus!"

The man scrambled over and snatched the book up, "Did you read it?"

"I- no, Remus what is it?"

"It's mine. Roman, I found it!"

Roman? Since when do those two talk? But, as Remus said, Roman walked in.

"Oh, thank Hades."

"Logan had it."

Roman sucked in a breath, "Did he read it?"

Remus shook his head, relief is a weird expression on the man's face.

Logan wouldn't mind seeing it more.

"What is this about?"

Roman took the liberty of answering, "The book is Remus' and it's private. Reading it would be invasive."

"Oh, my apologies, then. But, I had just picked it up, it was left over from Remus' running through the room and into the Imagination, along with some other debris I cleaned up."

"It's alright, nerd."

Logan's gaze lingered on Remus a bit, before he bid his farewells, reminded Roman of some work he needs to do by Friday, then left.

"Y'know," Roman said as they turned to walk back, "You could tell him how you feel."

Remus scoffed, "I'm not self destructive, like you, RoRo."

Ignoring Remus' jabs is difficult for the prince, nevertheless, "And do, pray tell, how it's self destructive?"

"Because he'll say no and that will hurt. I don't like when things actually hurt. I'm not risking him hating me even more."

"Woah, woah, he doesn't hate you."

"Doesn't he? I'm chaotic, irrational, vile, ik everything he fights to keep under control."

Roman digested this and thought hard on how best to explain this, "But that's exactly why you two are perfect for each other. You help him let loose when he's being a stick in the mud and he helps you keep in control of yourself and stay organized.

"You're delusional. He doesn't like me, he can't Ro. It goes against our very beings! Go ahead and fool yourself, but you can't do that to me. That's just cruel." Remus disappeared and Roman sighed as he tried to brush off his brother's words.

As the embodiment of romance, he thinks he'd know when a couple will work out or not. How will he convince his brother and Logan of that? He supposes he can't blame them for that, who would listen to the love advice of someone who loves someone that loves someone else? Kinda hypocritical.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Remus! Would calm down? Just listen to me!"

"No! You're a liar and I hate you! Do you want me to get hurt? You're an asshole you good for nothing prince!" He screamed. Why won't his brother let this go? Doesn't he see that everyone is better this way?

"Fine! You're right! Is that what you want to hear? Call me an asshole, call me stupid, call me evil or whatever! But I'm not wrong! Why don't you believe me? Ha! Why am I trying to reason with the self proclaimed unreasonable?"

Remus looked down from his perch on the guillotine, "Wait, RoRo-!" But he was gone.

"Fuck."

He rushed out, hoping to Loki that he didn't do too much damage.

"Roman!"

But he found who he wants looking for.

"Why are you screaming in the middle of the common room?" Came that cool and sexy voice.

"Looking for my brother, duh."

"Funny, I just spoke to him."

"Where'd he go?"

"Not sure, but he told me to stop being a robotic fake and confess to you."

"He- ? ROMAN!" Remus summoned a hammer and maybe there's a new hole in the wall.

"He was right, surprisingly."

Remus was not expecting that, "Come again?"

"I have noticed, over the course of our interactions, that I have developed feelings that I didn't recognized until Roman brought them to my attention. Remus...I have romantic feelings for you."

And it was the last casual and calculated confession Remus ever heard. He imagined something with ropes. But it was the best thing he ever heard. He didn't expect to be crying.

"Remus?"

"I like you, too..."

Logan brightened and stood up, his heart beating unnaturally, yet pleasently, as he moved closer, "Then... perhaps we...?"

But before he could finish, Remus pulled him in and there was no need for words.

Part 2 with what happened with Roman afterwards?

Ty so much for the request and I apologies for the long wait.

@fireflyjunkie

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foilfreak · 4 years ago

Text

Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1

A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

Summary:

Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.

The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.

This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.

Chapter 1: Mother's Gift

Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.

A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.

Mother had a gift for him.

Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.

Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.

Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?

“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.

“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.

“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.

“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.

“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore’s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”

Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?

‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.

“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.

The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.

“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.

Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.

“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.

“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.

As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?

It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.

Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.

Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.

Oh how wonderful that would be!

#salvatore moreau #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil 8: village #mother miranda #beauty and her beast #fic #mine #chapter 1 #re8 #re8 village #re village #salvatore moreau x reader #moreau x reader #moreau x oc #salvatore moreau x oc

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omgkalyppso · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 5 from my fic Gentle Moments

Apparently I never posted this on tumblr and it was halloween adjacent last year so I want to share it.

Claude and (my nb My Unit OC) Fae tuck their children in for a good night's sleep after their twins, Nader and Geralt, spend the day dressed up as a demonic beast.

2,635 words.

Link to the rest of the fic: [x]

Nader and Geralt had spent the past three weeks learning about Demonic Beasts and how they had shaped impressions of and life within Fodlan. Naturally the inked designs in their text and storybooks had piqued the imaginations of two young, mischievous boys. Spurred on by tales from their father, and anyone else who would spare a tailored word or two about these monstrosities of a bygone era, the twins had taken ink and paint to a bed sheet and practiced running about in a line as a facsimile of the horrors.

After running about in the open had worn out its novelty, Nader had tempted Geralt away from the eyes of their guardians, and they'd taken to hiding in cupboards, in stables, and all over the castle with the goal in mind of shocking whoever would happen upon them. Several successful attempts had goaded them to their most recent target, their parents. It wasn't a long wait, it was late in the evening, and soon they heard the familiar footfalls of their father making his way through the closet in which they hid.

"Rarragr!" came the joint cry from the trunk on the floor, bursting open to reveal the pile of revelry which had replaced its contents.

Whether rational or not, Claude did startle, gasping as he pulled away from the surprise. While initially relieved that it would be only he and his sons who were witnessing his brief moment of fright, almost instantly he was struck by a jolting pain down the back of his neck, and was shouting out in pain, rather than alarm at being confronted by any sort of beast. Even the twins could tell the difference.

"Ah! Fu-" Claude caught himself, "-un. Fun game guys. Ow."

He found that he couldn't straighten and reached up to touch his neck gingerly. The twins were pulling the sheet up over their shoulders to look at their father more seriously than the holes in their disguise would allow.

"Are you okay, Baba?" asked Geralt.

"Did we hurt you?" worried Nader.

"It was Nader's idea!" Geralt insisted, shooting his brother a look.

"You - you picked -!" Nader started to argue.

"Hey!" Claude called, silencing them as he squinted and forced himself down to his knees. "No fighting." He touched Nader's head. "It was a good idea." Claude smiled as relief washed over the twins, and he reached into the trunk to lift them each out to the floor. "Let's get you out of there. Where're your nannies?"

"Tamara was with Miri and Sadaf," said Geralt.

"I last saw Vera in the kitchens," admitted Nader.

Claude sighed, as both were hidden confessions of having snuck away from their caretakers.

"I know you think playing around them isn't as much fun as playing alone, but I really wish you wouldn't run away from people who just want to keep you safe."

The irony wasn't lost on him, as he thought of all the time he spent on his own as a child, voluntary or otherwise.

"No one got hurt!" insisted Nader.

"I know," Claude acknowledged.

"Sorry Baba."

"It's alright. I forgive you. Let's see if Tamara's still in your sister's room."

As they walked down the hall, Claude's pain started to subside and so he took the time to compliment the twins on their horrifying costume. They beamed and took turns explaining how they chosen this type of demonic beast based on the stories they heard and how they didn't have a red ink and so they'd borrowed some paint from the staff in the east wing - actually borrowed, and not just stolen away, and Tamara had helped with the scissors.

They ran into the woman just outside of Sadaf's room. She looked red faced and humiliated.

"Your Majesty," she began, and Claude could tell she could easily have been about to apologize in a way that could hurt his children, and so raised his hand to silence her before greeting her kindly.

"There you are, Tamara. I think Geralt has something to say to you." He squeezed the boy's shoulder for good measure.

"Really?" Geralt begged, already knowing what was being asked of him. Claude wondered whether that meant the whole effort was for naught.

"Yes," he insisted anyway. "Do you understand why you're apologizing?"

"Yes," Geralt exaggerated. "I'm sorry Tamara, for running off on my own again, even though -"

"Ah, ah!" Claude cut him off. "That's enough. Take responsibility." He placed a heavy gaze on Nader, until he stopped giggling. "You're going to have to apologize too, Nader, once I find Vera. In the meantime," Claude addressed the nanny, "do you think you can handle helping these two prepare for bed?"

She blushed and bowed. "Of course, your Majesty." Tamara smiled at Geralt, but it was stiff and unpracticed, "You're forgiven, little prince. I too am sorry that I was not more mindful in watching over you."

Claude was embarrassed by the effort it took to remember, but he was pretty sure that Tamara had lost track of Geralt four times now, while Vera had failed to follow Nader in six instances. It pained him to think of replacing yet more childminders, but if the boys had decided to hide anywhere more dangerous, they could easily find themselves stuck or fallen or squished or burnt and ... perhaps he should look into mercenaries that had been parents to look over them, instead of the usual crowd. He'd have to discuss it with Fae another day, it was going to take all of his energy just to send Vera back to the children's rooms and fall into his bed.

When Claude finally found his way to his bedroom, Fae was seated at the vanity, brushing their hair, having changed into nightclothes and a bed robe. They smiled at him as he entered and it struck him for the thousandth time how blessed he was.

"I thought you'd be here before me," Fae cooed, reaching out to him so that he would come sit opposite them on the bed, rather than at the end of it where he hovered in indecision. "Shall we go say goodnight to the children?"

"In a minute," Claude answered, sitting where they'd requested but then flopping onto his back out of reach, sinking into the covers.

Fae laughed, moving about to lay next to him, sneaking a hand across to the buttons on his chest. "Alright. Let me undress you."

"Can you," Claude hesitated as he shook his head back and forth, "rub my neck, also?"

"Of course," Fae answered, slipping a leg around Claude's middle, straddling him carefully as their fingers curled behind his ears. "Just sore?"

"Not exactly," Claude admit. "The twins were in our closet earlier, disguised as a Demonic Beast. The costume was actually really good, you should ask to see it tomorrow. But I gave myself whiplash or hurt an old wound or ... maybe I'm just getting old, and I hurt my neck twisting away from them."

Fae was laughing at him as they rolled to his side, and Claude chuckled too.

"Oh no ..." they cooed. "Were they proud?"

"No, I think I frightened them," Claude said sheepishly.

"Aww."

"Are you awwing me or them?"

"Both, I think. Sit up."

Claude squeezed Fae's thigh before complying, smiling softly as he felt them shuffle around behind him. Seated on their feet, Fae pressed their thumbs to either side of Claude's spine and their fingertips into his neck.

"Oh, yeah," he purred before a squeak. "Ah-ha! Softer, please." And he was sighing pleasurably through the following few minutes of their affections, until only their index, middle and ring fingers touched him with a soft Healing spell. He winced, the magic feeling like a snap and a warm pulse, and a reminder of worse weathered injuries. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Fae said before kissing the back of his neck. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Come on," they insisted. "I can give you more of a rub down when we get back."

"My hero," he answered, wondering if they heard it as an exaggeration, while he meant it in every implication.

Somehow, Claude and Fae had gone from having the twins sleeping at the foot of their bed, to conceding that they did need a nanny, to now needing one for each child, or else the twins would run off in different directions and leave a guardian paralyzed between them. Even so, the nannies did not reside in the children’s rooms, and only guards patrolled the hall to secure the safety of the royal children, and ensure they didn’t sneak out into the night for mischief.

As such, it was with privacy that Fae and Claude found their children, going first to Sadaf’s room where she was on the floor by the window, near a pair of stuffed wyverns. Though her parents were obviously interrupting her playtime, Sadaf looked happy, if a little glossed over with sleep and distraction. She giggled once, and took off in the direction of her parents, where Fae scooped her up.

“Hello Sadaf,” Fae greeted.

“Hello Renny,” Sadaf said, running clumsy fingers through Fae’s hair, before reaching her chubby little arms towards Claude. “Hello Baba.”

“Did you learn anything interesting today?” asked Fae as Claude stole their daughter away from them, accepting Sadaf’s embrace.

“Noooo,” Sadaf answered, rather unconvincingly.

“No?” Claude pressed with a laugh, starting to bounce his child, despite her probably being beyond the age where this might be comforting. “Why not?”

“Nader said to say no,” Sadaf said, her voice hushing with each word, too young to understand whatever secret her brother had tried to share with her.

Fae pouted. “Do you know why he said that?”

“He said that it was a joke.”

Fae shared a look with Claude who asked Sadaf, “So now you think you’re funny too?”

“You laughed,” she squealed gleefully, so that Claude squinted despite being forced to concede as she squirmed in his grasp.

“You’re right, you’re right, I did laugh,” Claude agreed, chuckling again.

Fae rolled their eyes fondly from behind their daughter, licking their lips as they seemed to consider how much trouble their little royal trio was soon to be. Still, their tone was steady as they asked Sadaf, “Do you want to come say goodnight to your brothers with us?”

“Yes, please,” Sadaf answered in her squeaky little voice, easily leaning into her father as they made their way across the hall.

Nader and Geralt had been offered each their own room their past two birthdays, but thus far enjoyed the shared space. They were huddled together on Nader’s bed, sitting up against the wall, looking at a thick book that Claude would have bet his title and reputation on being open to pages of Demonic Beasts and similar creatures.

“Good evening, are you boys going to read us a bedtime story?” Fae teased, easily making their way to the bed to sit beside their boys. Geralt crawled over them anyway, to sit at their opposite side so that Fae was perched in the middle, where the book could be shared.

Nader whined, a poorly hidden smile on his face, “We’re getting too old for bedtime stories.”

“But I’m not,” Fae insisted, tousling his hair.

“Are you looking at something too scary for your sister?” asked Claude, hovering.

“I’m not scared,” peeped the little girl in his arms.

“I know, princess,” he assured her, leaving a kiss on her temple.

Fae winked at their husband and flipped ahead a few pages before nodding him over. They took Geralt around the waist and pulled him up into their lap as Claude found his way to the bed.

“Also,” Claude added, “‘getting too old’ is not ‘too old.’” And moreover, he kept to himself, reading facts about birds of prey and their ecology was in no way a ‘story,’ but at least this kept his children entertained. Even Sadaf spun around in his arms and hung off his house coat as she leaned closer to look at the artwork of patterns in their feathers.

When Claude and Nader shared a yawn, Fae giggled and decided to free them, reaching for the thread in the spine of the tome to mark their page.

“Alright, you can come back to this another time,” they insisted, and it must’ve been late because there came no protests.

“You’re still going to play with us tomorrow, right?” asked Geralt, looking up at Fae from where he slouched.

“Yes, I’m leaving Baba to handle things until the evening, so I’ll be able to do whatever you like until it’s time for your lessons,” Fae assured him and Nader both, who was rolling over sideways while his family still crowded on his bed. Fae pinched his covers around him.

“And then the next day we’re all going riding,” Claude reminded his children.

“I’ll give Ghaymah lots of kisses,” Sadaf mumbled into Claude.

“Ghaymah doesn’t need kisses,” grumbled Nader.

“Says who?” asked Claude, genuinely curious, but Nader just shrugged deeper into his pillows as his family left his bed.

With a huff, Claude straightened Sadaf in his arms. “Ghaymah would love your kisses, princess,” he assured her.

Fae stroked Geralt’s forehead as he settled on his side in his own bed, and Claude started the echo around the room of good nights and wishes of sweet dreams which soundly faded into nothing as Fae doused the lamp.

After setting Sadaf down next, Fae and Claude were almost out the door when her soft voice called out, “Baba?”

Claude grimaced at Fae, who smirked and shoved at him, before leaning on the wall to wait.

“Yes, Sadaf?”

She had already sat back up again, knees curled to her chest, her large green eyes, so like his own, imploring him long before her words.

“Would you tell me a real story? The one with the girl and the sandstorm?”

Only the barest temptation to say no flashed through Claude’s mind. Still scarred from war and tragedy, simple indulgences were always hardest for him to refuse, fearing that if he asked her to wait for another night, that anything might happen to steal his chance in the future.

“Of course, princess,” he conceded, moving to kneel by her bedside, encouraging her to lay back.

When he finally left his daughter’s bedroom, he found Fae still in the hall, seated upon the floor, resting against the wall. They smiled at him and reached out their hands for him to help them back to their feet as they asked, “I never noticed before, but is the snake in that story using your impression of Raphael?”

Claude chuckled at a whisper before answering, “It is. It must be one of my better ones if you could recognize him.”

Fae gave Claude a flat look; his impressions were notoriously terrible. Amused, he winked, and quickly found himself led by the hand down the hall. He and Fae both wished a good night to the guard stationed there, someone they knew by name and by years, who had the grace to smile politely and return the greeting.

Finally returned to their bedroom, the monarchs whispered and worried about the dangers their children might face, beyond Demonic Beasts; knowing their own parents could never have imagined the challenges they’d confronted in their lifetime. Meanwhile Fae rolled the heels of their palms into Claude’s neck, fulfilling their earlier offer. When they risked talking in circles, Claude turned to offer his spouse comforting kisses and heartfelt assurances as he pulled them down into the covers. They two were doing all they could otherwise, to protect their family and their people, and there was nothing left to pursue this night, other than sorely needed, safe, sound sleep.

#long post #my writing #halloween #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #faedolyn

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deascheck · 4 years ago

Text

Problem Solved

Prompt: "Whatever that thing is, it is not what we are looking for so, Dean put it down immediately! Cas stop fooling around like an idiot, and Sam, what the hell are you even doing?"

Summary: The reader’s hands are full when Dean, Sam, and Cas are all affected by an object cursed by the witch they’re hunting.

Word Count: 1553

Trigger warnings: Death, brief mention of blood

A/N: Would love to know what you think! Comments and reblogs are amazing!

Edited by @winchest09

--------

You glanced at Sam as he picked the lock with nimble, practiced fingers. A slight smile ghosted across your face as you checked the yard and surrounding properties for any witnesses. There wasn’t a lock that Sam couldn’t pick.

Dean and Cas had split off and gone around back. The house was huge, with cameras everywhere. The property was thick with flowers and plants surrounding the house, making it easy for the two large men to hide as they worked their way over to the security box.

The lock clicked, and you and Sam crept forward through the door. Guns drawn, you moved around each other with practiced ease. Thanks to Dean’s ungodly ability to flirt, the four of you had gotten blueprints of the house and had memorized them down to the last brick. You moved swiftly to the upstairs, followed by Sam.

You knew the witch was home – you had seen her arrive. Stealth was key in this case. She’d killed eight people with hex bags already. They were gruesome, horrible deaths, and you wanted her dead like you’d never wanted anyone dead before.

Once Dean and Cas had cleared the downstairs, they joined you and Sam upstairs. You peeled off towards the bedrooms with Dean, and Cas joined Sam. The hallways were dark, and there were nine doors to check behind. As Dean entered the master bedroom, you spared a glance over your shoulder towards the other two before you went with him.

As you finished clearing it, trying not to bump into the bed, dresser, desk, or table, you heard a strange thump and then a yell.

You and Dean barreled out of the room and down the hall. You skidded to a stop when you reached the open doorway and stared. Dean all but ran into you as his sprint was halted by your body blocking the door.

Cas had a stupidly silly smile spread across his face, and was dancing around in big circles with his hands waving in the air. Whereas, Sam had his mouth wide open and was measuring with his hands how big it was.

Almost as soon as you’d taken in the ridiculous scene, Dean knocked you into the doorframe as he shoved forward, eager to figure out what was going on. He grabbed some sort of ancient looking scroll from Cas’s hand, and almost immediately started mirroring Sam’s actions.

“Dean!” you whispered angrily. “Dean, whatever that thing is, it’s not what we’re here for! Cas, stop fooling around like an idiot! And Sam, dude, what the hell are you even doing!?” You couldn’t believe you had this to deal with now. You had three men who were currently no better than children, and a dangerous witch you still hadn’t seen.

Backing away, you shut the door quickly, hoping to contain the noise that Sam, Dean, and Cas were all making. With these circumstances, you’d do better against the witch on your own, which still didn’t mean things would go well.

As you turned around, you came face to face with a very smug looking woman. She had brown hair slightly past her shoulders, had a pretty, long face, and looked like she knew how to handle herself. It was the witch herself, Elizabeth.

“Shit,” you managed to get out before attempting to take a shot at her with your gun. She knocked it from your hands as you fired, spinning you into the wall. You retaliated by launching up and taking a swing at her with a mean right hook. She ducked, and you recovered quickly, doing your best to keep your back to the wall. The two of you fought your way down the hall. The blows and kicks were vicious, and you knew this wouldn’t end unless one of you was dead. If you could keep her busy enough to not say any incantations, you figured you might have a chance to extend your life by a few minutes, but without your gun, you weren’t sure how in the hell you were going to kill her.

The fight wore on, and it was becoming apparent that you were at a disadvantage. Primarily because Elizabeth knew the house best. Even having memorized the blueprints, there was a difference between studying the layout of a house and living in it. She knew when there was a corner to throw you against, a table to flip you over, curtains to tangle you in. You’d never admit it, but you were starting to wonder if she was in better shape than you. Being a hunter, you had your fair share of fights, but you’d always had Sam or Dean to come help take out whatever monstrosity you were fighting with.

With a loud smash, you went flying over the kitchen counter and hit the fridge with considerable force. As you lay on the ground, slightly stunned, you fisted your hands angrily, your fingers closing around something which caused you to glance down. It was a knife.

You quickly scrambled to your feet with a maniacal grin across your face. Elizabeth advanced and you launched yourself at her, the knife coming into her view too late. You ran the blade right through her neck, forcing it through her windpipe and into the spinal vertebrae. Elizabeth’s eyes went wide, and her mouth moved like she was trying to speak. But instead of words leaving her mouth, it was blood. As crimson liquid dripped down from her mouth, you heard another commotion coming down the hall. Sam was weaving around in the hallway, smashing into the walls as hard as he could as he walked, chuckling stupidly. You sprinted over to him while the witch was in shock from your attack. You reached behind Sam’s waist to grab his gun, which was filled with witch-killing bullets.

You heard her gurgle as you spun around and fired without hesitation. Elizabeth stared at you lifelessly before dropping to the floor. You smiled grimly at her and then kicked her hard with your booted foot.

“That’s for the innocent people you killed, you bitch.”

You watched her for a minute, and then realized you weren’t hearing any stupid noises from Sam. You turned to look his way and saw him looking proudly at you. “Well done, Y/N. I can’t believe you killed her by yourself!”

“Yeah, well, I can’t believe you let yourself get cursed when you knew we were in a witch’s house,” you teased.

As the beating you took stared to cause your body to ache something awful, you thought, Shit, this is gonna hurt tomorrow.

Groaning to yourself, you walked back upstairs with Sam to find out what had befallen Dean and Cas. You opened the door, and immediately was knocked off your feet by two well built men falling out of the door.

All of you let out grunts and “oof”s as the three of you landed in a pile on the floor. Immediately on top of you was Dean. You looked at each other in surprise and relief.

Both of you started talking at the same time. “What the fuck are you doing?” “How’re you still alive?” He laughed as you chuckled weakly.

“Get off me you big lugs,” you moaned. They got up good-naturedly and looked at Sam, waiting to be told how the spell was broken.

Sam responded to their expectant looks by saying, “The only thing I can think of is that Elizabeth had cursed the scroll herself to cause whoever touched it to lose some sanity. But since it ended, I’m assuming that curse was tied to her life force.” He looked pensive and then shrugged. “I mean, kinda rare, but I’ll take it.”

Taking their pause as a cue, you spoke proudly, “I killed her.” Dean and Cas looked at you in shock. Continuing smugly, you said, “I mean, she was kicking my ass, let’s be real. But she made the mistake of throwing me over the kitchen counter.. By the knives.” You paused briefly to give them a knowing look and then kept going with your story. “So, I hit the fridge, and as I made a fist - cause man, am I pissed now! - my hand closes on a silver knife. How lucky was that!” You laughed. “I grab the knife, and launch myself at her before she can attack first. Got her right in the windpipe. Then Sam, who somehow got out of the room I shut y’all in, wandered right into my lap with his witch-killing bullets. Problem solved.”

Sam gave you a hug and helped you up. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to help you, Y/N.” He looked at you proudly, but behind his eyes you could see guilt warring with pride.

“We’re proud of you, Y/N! Couldn’t have done it better ourselves,” Dean said, “C’mere!” He reached for you and grabbed you in a big bear hug. Squished against him, barely able to breath, you peeked over his shoulder, and saw Cas smiling softly at you.

You extracted yourself from Dean’s hug, as much as you loved the rare moment, and gave Cas his turn. He let you go quickly, since he was still a bit of an awkward hugger. You chuckled, and said firmly, “Let’s go home, shall we?”

#supernatural #SPN #spn fic #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #castiel #fanfic #spnfandom #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #teamfreewill #deascheck

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alittlextrathatway · 4 years ago

Note

Penelope/Colin: “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.”

YAY SOMETHING BESIDES BRETTSEY. (Not that I don’t love them.) I’ve never written Polin before! I’m excited to play! 🙌🏻 Thank you!

How about a modern AU for this one? Just cause.

******

It all started because of the pandemic.

He’d been perfectly happy traveling. It’s not like he had anything else to occupy his time. He wasn’t particularly talented and he didn’t have any hobbies or interests. Aside from eating but he doubted his mother would approve of him becoming one of those professional hot dog eaters and he didn’t care enough for the piddly portions of fine dining to become a food critic.

The only thing that truly distracts him from his lack of drive or ambition is traveling — learning about the world and it’s many cultures.

He has journal after journal full of his discoveries and experiences. Travel is really his only love.

Which is why he’d stopped and started his studies so many times. He took a year between high school and college to backpack through Europe. Then another year after freshman year to “study abroad”, not that he actually studied. Which is why his mother forced him to come back and finish his third year stateside. After that, he’d set off traveling again. Every year he found another excuse not to come home for any longer than a month or two, allowing him to put off his final year.

It’s not as if he’s getting a degree in anything useful. He’s an English major. And it’s not as if his career isn’t already decided for him. Upon graduation he’ll be given an office at Bridgerton Family Publishing. Doing what? Well, no one knows. Not even him.

So, what’s the rush?

He’d still be gone abroad right now if not for COVID forcing him to return home. God, he hates 2020. What a waste of a year. He came home too late for the spring 2020 term so he’s spent the last several months going absolutely crazy.

He’s a man of the world who is not being allowed to go out and see it. He can’t imagine anything more cruel.

Actually, no, he takes that back. There’s one thing:

Using the time he’s forced to stay in Mayfair to discover he’s completely and stupidly in love with his little sister’s best friend.

The friend who overheard him, last time he was home for any considerable length of time, declaring to his brothers that he would never be interested in her.

Because, of course, Colin Bridgerton is a colossal jackass who doesn’t know a good thing when it’s been staring him in the face his entire life.

There’s laughter coming from the direction of the foyer. Very distinctive laughing. One high and tinkling like a pretty little bell and the other deeper and hoarser. The alto to the other’s soprano. The alto in this case is his younger sister, Eloise, and the soprano is Penelope.

The woman he should have noticed long before now.

He gets up from where he’s lounging on the sofa, mournfully watching the Travel Channel, and takes his plate full of sandwiches with him.

He finds them giggling and applying lipstick in the mirror by the front door. They look dressed to go out. Eloise in her slick tailored pant suit and intricately adorned lace top, in monochromatic lavender. And Penelope in…

Holy shit, what is that?

Apparently, it’s the instrument of his imminent death if the erratic beating of his heart is any indication. He’s going to have some sort of attack and go into cardiac arrest right here in the foyer of his childhood home.

It’s a tight forest green dress that has an off the shoulder neckline. It hugs her curves so perfectly that he thinks someone must have sewn it onto her. It shows the perfect amount of skin along her neck and shoulders, giving just a tiny glimpse of cleavage.

And she’s had a haircut since she was here yesterday. Her ginger locks now rest against her cheeks in a wavy stylish bob. She was beautiful before. He was never blind to that as some other people around Pen have proven to be, but now...

She’s absolutely stunning.

So stunning that other people will surely see what he sees. And he’s grateful for that, truly. She deserves to be seen as she is — brilliant and beautiful — but that means he’s about to have competition while trying to win her over. And he is not grateful for that.

He’s been trying to be more forward with her when they’re alone but that doesn’t happen often and he’s not sure Penelope takes him very seriously. (No one does.) She seems to always be in disbelief when he flirts with her.

“Where are you two off to?” He asks, leaning against the wall opposite the mirror.

“Double date,” Eloise says, fluffing her hair in the mirror. “Pen arranged it. She met someone extremely gorgeous at the library today.”

Penelope blushes and grins demurely. “It’s the magic of a fresh cut,” she says motioning to her new hair. “He was there with his friend and we were all scrambling for resources for our bibliographies together and he asked if I wanted to get dinner and I asked if Eloise could come. No big deal.”

“It doesn’t look as if it’s not a big deal,” Colin observes, his gaze sweeping over Penelope from head to toe.

“His father owns that new super exclusive restaurant Kate’s been begging Anthony to take her too. You know, La Table Gourmande?” Eloise explains.

“The one that told Anthony the next available reservation was in two months? That restaurant?” Colin asks, trying not to scowl.

Really, there was no need for this guy to show off. He seems a bit full of himself.

“That’s the one,” Penelope replies with a nod. “He says he can get us the Chef’s table tonight. I’ve never done anything like that before. It sounds exciting. Might be the closest I ever get to authentic French cuisine. For a while anyway.”

Okay, so now he feels like a heel for wanting to keep her from going out. He knows he’s lucky his family is so well off. It allows him to travel. Penelope’s family, while not destitute, has spent most of their surplus funds putting three daughters, soon to be a fourth, through school. In fact, if not for a distant rich aunt who died they wouldn’t even have been able to afford that.

Any money Penelope used to travel would have to be her own, and he isn’t sure how much of that she has.

“Pen,” Eloise calls, interrupting Colin’s thoughts. “Have you seen my clutch? Did I bring it down?”

“I don’t see it anywhere,” Penelope says with a shake of her head. “Did you leave it on your dresser?”

Eloise groans in irritation, turning toward the main staircase of their massive house. “I guess I did. I’ll be right back.”

Finally, they’re alone. Colin clears his throat and sets the plate of sandwiches he’d been snacking on down on the hall table. He crosses the space until he’s standing mere inches away from her.

“Don’t go out tonight. I can take you somewhere else. Somewhere better,” Colin suggests.

“Better?” Penelope asks skeptically.

He nods. “I have a friend who opened a restaurant here that I met while I was in Nice. It’s smaller than that La Table Gourmand monstrosity and not quite considered fine dining but it’s real. It’s better. It’ll be closer to actually being in France than anything in that obnoxious place.”

“I don’t see why I can’t go with Marcus tonight and then you some other time,” she tells him, lifting one perfect brow and pursing her lips.

“This guy sounds like a prick,” Colin says with a scoff. “Bragging about his father’s connections on the first date? That’s not a good sign, Pen. Trust me, I know these things. I’m a guy.”

“Maybe,” she says with a shrug, a small knowing grin on her lips. “But I think I should decide that for myself. Don’t you?”

That grin…

She knows exactly what he’s trying to do.

She’s being difficult on purpose.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave,” she challenges him, continuing to grin smugly.

Well, if that’s the game she wants to play then so be it.

“Why waste a night figuring out what I already know when you could just let me take you out instead for what, we both know, would be a better time?” Colin asks, caressing the length of Penelope’s arm with a light tender touch.

She sucks in a breath at the contact, but doesn’t show any weakness in her expression. “Yes, but going out with Marcus would be a date that might actually lead to something. What would be the purpose of ditching a real date for you instead?”

“Oh, you want it to lead to something?” He asks, a smirk growing on his face as he backs her up toward the wall.

“Y—yes,” she stammers, her grin slipping as nerves shine in her eyes.

Her back hits the wall and he brings one hand to her cheek, cupping her face and trailing his thumb along her cheekbone.

He leans down, nearly closing the distance between them but stops just short of kissing her. “Come out with me, Pen, and you can choose where it leads. I’ll give you whatever future I have, even if I have no idea what it is. You set the terms, you call the shots.”

Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush but she instinctively leans into his hand. Call him a cocky bastard, but that’s the moment he knows he’s won. The moment he knows she’ll choose him.

“I set the terms?” She asks, biting her bottom lip while she stares at his.

He nods, waiting for the moment she leans up and kisses him.

“Well, then you know what I think?” She asks, rhetorically while she rests a hand on his chest.

“Tell me,” he pleads.

She smiles wickedly and pushes him away by one step. “I think you could do with some healthy competition.”

She sidesteps him and saunters off to the front door, leaving him gaping at her like a fool.

Like a besotted, astonished, completely smitten fool.

Eloise reappears, patting Colin’s shoulder as she follows after Penelope. “Tell mom we’ll be back late.”

They leave, the door shuts, and all he can think is…

Well played, Penelope Featherington.

But the Bridgertons are famously competitive and this game is only just beginning. He’ll win her over yet.

Wait and see.

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin #fanfiction #my fic #angellwings writes #fanfiction prompt game #ask prompt #long post #SORRY THIS IS LONG FOR A TUMBLR PROMPT 😬#new ship for me so be gentle 🙏🏻

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goldentournesol · 5 years ago

Text

Twin Flames

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Reader deals with the aftermath of Maeve while she struggles with her intense feelings for Spencer.

Length: 4.3k

A/N: lots of angst...like lots of it. Big thanks to @hopefulfangirl24 for requesting. i totally broke my own heart writing this. ENJOY!

masterlist

Sometimes the hardest part isn't letting go, it's starting over. -Nicole Sobon

Starting over.

What did starting over even look like for Spencer? Will the dread and guilt ever stop washing over him as the sun melts into the horizon and the moon takes its place?

It was starting to feel like he could never move on from the pain of losing Maeve. Day and night, he stared at the four walls of his apartment wondering what could have been if he had said something different. He wondered if the outcome would be the same. He wondered whether fate had ever been kind to him in at least one of the infinite universes that might exist, giving him the ending he so desperately wanted. After so many years, Spencer finally allowed himself to be brave enough to fall in love and oh how he wished he regretted it, but falling in love was anything but regrettable. Falling in love meant being vulnerable, and he knew that, but he didn’t know just how much it would hurt. The purity of Spencer’s soul allowed him to love so deeply, so intensely, and with all his heart which made it all the more easy to hurt so deeply and so intensely.

He yearned to become unfamiliar with the feeling of heaviness. Everything was so heavy, his heart, his stomach, his tears. Each of them weighing on him like anvils that he couldn’t lift no matter how hard he tried. In theory, he knew the anvils could be lifted with help from others, but that was too much of a strenuous task to tackle right now. He’ll handle the anvils all on his own for now.

The world seemed eerily desolate and Spencer couldn’t seem to remember what it looked like before it turned into the dull, washed out version he became acquainted with now. Penelope had tried to add some color back into his life, but her actions were futile against the monstrosity of grief. The entire team had tried to reach out and while he appreciated the gestures, he had no capacity for anything other than the agony that consumed him.

Derek left what seemed like a thousand messages on his phone, but he still checked to see who called every time his phone rang. Which is exactly why it was unprecedented to see a different name pop up at the sound of his ringtone in the middle of the day. A name which belonged to a person he’d held very dear for so long. They haven’t spoken in months, maybe a year and if Spencer’s mind wasn’t currently overcrowded with thoughts, he’d definitely be able to recall the exact amount of time between speaking to her last and now. Why is she calling him now? What if something was wrong? Did she know about what happened? No, how would she find out? His curiosity had possessed his body, making him answer the call.

“Y/N?” He croaked, clearing his throat, having not used his voice in days.

“Spencer! How’s my favorite genius doing? I didn’t know if you’d changed your number or something, but I’d just thought I’d call anyway! Are you at work? Sorry, I can call you back later if-” She shouted excitedly into the phone, but Spencer was quick to end her worries.

“No, no. I’m not at work.” Spencer said curtly.

“Oh, is everything alright?” She asked, concerned. She could tell by the tone of his voice that something was not right.

“Did Garcia put you up to this?” Spencer deflected defensively.

He knew Garcia was aware that Y/N was the only person he’d never turn away from. Not after all they’d been through. She was the one person who never left his side. She and Spencer were undeniably connected by some sort of un-explainable, otherworldly force. Call them soulmates, twin flames, mirror souls--whatever. That was what they were. It didn’t matter to them if they were romantically involved or not, the connection between them had surpassed the simple stages of romance. Spencer often found himself wondering what could have been if he’d never left Vegas. If he’d never left her.

“Garcia? The tech analyst? No, why? Spencer, did something happen?” She recalled meeting the eccentric woman when she visited Spencer in Quantico a few years back.

Spencer’s brow furrowed and his mouth spoke before his brain could tell it not to, “Then why are you calling me?” He spat impatiently, pinching the bridge of his nose, already wishing he didn’t have to prolong the conversation.

Y/N was taken aback through the phone at his retort but her heart ached for him, knowing that something dreadful must have happened for him to act so out of character, but she took the phone off her ear to check if she had dialed the correct number anyway. She had.

“I just wanted to catch up with you. Is this about not calling you recently? I’m sorry, Spencer, I got caught up with work and I moved into a new apartment, and things have just been really hectic lately. Are you okay?” She worried through the phone and Spencer could practically feel her disquietude seeping from the speaker.

“So, you really don’t know…?” Spencer trailed off, already feeling the guilt bubble up in his chest, still avoiding the question. He didn’t even know what okay meant anymore.

“Know what, Spence? Oh God, is Diana okay?!” She shrieked, her mind snapping to the worst case scenario.

Her genuine reaction had made Spencer ease the frown that had been permanently etched onto his features for days. It wasn’t a smile yet, but it was something. She and his mother had always shared a bond that he never really understood, even as an adult. That was how compassionate she was, she was able to instantly connect with people and she would do it so well. It used to baffle Spencer when they were children, but perhaps that’s what drew her to him. Their souls were tied together with an invisible string.

She heard him release a huff and some shuffling was heard from his side, “My mom is fine.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “So, what’s going on?”

He paused, debating whether or not to tell her. She sighed again, knowing it must have been something terrible if he wasn’t willing to talk about it.

“Spencer?” She called softly when he fell silent. She was already browsing for plane tickets from Las Vegas to DC.

“I...I couldn’t do it, Y/N. I couldn’t save her.” He sniffled into the phone and her heart had practically escaped from its place in her chest and landed in the pits of her stomach. Her arms and shoulders were immediately overtaken with chills. She didn’t know who he was referring to, but the dread set in quicker than she imagined. She could tell this was bad, even for Spencer and his line of work. Whatever happened had ripped him to shreds and she was not about to sit idly in Vegas.

Two days later, she struggled to haul a small suitcase out of the cab she took from the airport to Spencer’s apartment complex. The flight was way more exhausting than it should have been. She placed the suitcase on the ground with a huff and spotted two blonde women descending from the stairs that led to Spencer’s apartment as she neared the entrance. She quickly recognized them as Spencer’s beloved coworkers, Garcia and JJ. Garcia’s eyes found hers and let out a surprised gasp.

“Hey, I know you! You’re Spencer’s friend--from Vegas! Y/N, right?” Garcia announced as Y/N entered the building, stopping right before the stairs.

“Hi, Penelope.” Y/N said expectantly with a playful smile. Garcia was pleasantly surprised when she remembered who she was and pulled her into a warm embrace.

“Hi, JJ.” she smiled as she gave her a hug, “Any luck with Spencer?”

The two women shared a look and sighed deeply.

“No, he hasn’t even spoken to us through the door.” JJ said with a heavy heart before she continued, “How did you know? Did he call you?”

Y/N shook her head, “No, I called him.”

“And he picked up?!” Garcia exclaimed, eliciting a half-laugh from Y/N.

“Yeah, he did. I don’t know how it happened, I just, you know when you get a feeling like in the pit of your stomach? It felt like he needed me all of a sudden--sorry, that sounds so weird.” She apologized, shaking her head slightly.

“No, it’s okay. Maybe you can get through to him. We’re all really worried about him.” JJ explained and Y/N nodded.

“I still don’t really know what happened, was it...that bad?” Y/N felt silly for asking. The two shared another look. A look that held so much shared trauma and empathy for their friend. Y/N’s heart sank as she let out a shuddered breath at their silent reaction. She glanced up at the stairs helplessly, wondering if she was strong enough to help him through the turmoil he’s experiencing.

“He’s refused to see anyone for the past two weeks, please let us know if anything changes.” Garcia pleaded and they proceeded to exchange numbers to keep in touch. Y/N nodded and smiled gratefully at them before making her way up the stairs and facing Spencer’s door.

She took a deep breath before knocking. Spencer held back a groan as he dropped his copy of The Narrative of John Smith into his lap, bringing his hands to his face in an act of exhaustion. He wanted to scream at them to leave him alone, but he simply didn’t have the energy to do so. He’d settle on ignoring them for now. The knocking carried on, but it was paired with a gentle voice that Spencer knew all too well. JJ and Garcia watched from the bottom of the steps, bouncing with anticipation.

“Spencer? It’s Y/N. Can you please open up?” She called through the wooden door.

Spencer froze in his place. Was he finally asleep and dreaming? Did she really come all this way for him or was he imagining it? Was fate finally giving him a taste of kindness? A kindness he so desperately wished for? He suddenly retreated into the darkest corner of his mind, the dark place which never failed to remind him on an hourly basis just how unworthy of love he really was. Not hers, not Maeve’s, not anyone’s. His thoughts were interrupted yet again by another insistent knock. It sounded too clear to be a figment of his imagination. He forced himself up from his place on the couch and made his way to the door. She heard shuffling from the other side and bit her lip. JJ and Garcia made a move to leave before they heard the sound of the door opening. They shared an excited look, not even caring that they were almost half an hour late to work at this point.

Spencer’s sullen eyes found her bright ones immediately. She gave him a soft smile and he swore the world around him withered away slightly.

“Hey, genius.” She spoke with her signature tenderness and Spencer didn’t hesitate to engulf her in a long awaited embrace. She let out a breath at the sudden force but welcomed him into her arms anyway. JJ and Garcia grinned at each other, a newfound wave of relief hitting the both of them. They left for work, grins of relief never leaving their faces.

“You’re....you’re here? You’re really here?” Spencer mumbled as he stuffed his face into her neck, her presence filling him with a sense of familiarity, one he so hopelessly craved.

She nodded into his shoulder, squeezing him impossibly tighter, “Yeah, Spence, I’m right here.”

She felt his chest expand against hers and he released a deep, heavy sigh. He suddenly felt a sense of security wash over him, his arms tightened around her waist, lifting her off the ground slightly as he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to relish in her warm embrace for just a few moments longer. Relief flooded his chest, and he felt like he could breathe again. He was inexplicably glad that the first thing he could breathe in again was the smell of her perfume. He vouched to never allow himself to forget the level of comfort she brought again. Spencer momentarily forgot about his sorrows in her arms, but the agony was far too unforgiving and the moment of bliss didn’t last. His chest clenched again as he set her down and pulled away from her.

“Y-you didn’t have to come all the way out here.” He frowned, struggling to hold himself together in front of her.

“Stop that, you know I’d drop everything in a heartbeat for you.” She attempted to smile despite her eyes welling up with tears at the sight of his suffering. He nodded and they both stepped into his apartment, her dragging her suitcase in with her.

“You came from the airport?” He said with a small voice as he saw her pull the bag in. He had expected her to stop by whichever hotel she booked a room at first.

“Yeah, I came as soon as I landed. I needed to see you first.” She said, pulling him to his couch by the hand, careful not to step on any of the books that lay on the floor.

“Do you…” he paused, swallowing his tears, “do you have to stay at the hotel?”

“No, Spence, I don’t have to. I can stay here if you want.” She gently stroked her thumb across his knuckles.

“Please? Please...stay?” His voice cracked and suddenly his face scrunched up in an attempt to suppress a sob, but to no avail.

A heartbreaking sob escaped from his lips and she wrapped herself around him without a second thought. Cooing at him lovingly and rubbing his back, reminding him every so often that she was right there. Once the floodgates had opened, they had no idea when they would stop. She held his shaking body tightly to hers as if she could somehow absorb some of the pain he felt and tried not to let any of her own tears fall onto him. It broke her heart to see him so saddened.

She pressed kisses to the side of his head as he calmed down, threading her fingers through his messy, tangled hair. Spencer’s ear was now resting against her heartbeat, he focused on the steady sound and he felt his eyes droop with the exhaustion of days without sleep. She smiled slightly and soon fell asleep, making up for the sleep she missed on the flight over.

Hours later, they awoke and moved around the apartment in silence. Or rather she moved in silence while he stayed on the couch, looking for anything to drown out his sorrows. She focused on making him a balanced breakfast, despite the fact that it was almost 3 pm.

“Spencer? Come eat. I made coffee, too.” She called out, already eating off her plate. She hoped she wouldn’t have to physically drag him off the couch. She smiled when she heard him drag his feet all the way to the kitchen. They ate together in silence, although Spencer was thankful for the warm food.

“Do you know why I joined the FBI?” He asked after a while. She stared at him curiously and he continued, “I joined the FBI to protect people. That’s the whole point of the job. I wanted to protect her, I wanted to save her, and I failed. I failed, Y/N. What’s the point of me being an FBI agent if I can’t even protect the ones I love?” He ranted as he looked at her for answers.

“What is the point of loving anyone if I can’t protect them?” He frowned, tears pooling on the inside of his eyes. She frowned in response, clutching the cup of coffee tight between her hands.

“Do you want to start from the beginning?” She offered and he quickly realized she had no idea who he was talking about.

“Her name is...was Maeve. She was the geneticist who helped me get rid of my migraines. I sent her my brain scan and she was the only one who actually helped. I never actually met her, though, all our communication happened through payphones or letters because she had a stalker. She didn’t know who they were, just that they were dangerous. I’d call her every Sunday and we’d just...talk. We sent letters under pseudonyms. It was nice. It was more than nice, actually. It was the first time I ever felt appreciated for who I am, I didn’t have to worry about her judging the way I looked. I-I fell in love with her before I even saw her. We planned a date, finally, but I sent her home because I thought I saw her stalker. So stupid. I was so stupid. I was so paranoid, Y/N. Good things just don’t happen to Spencer Reid, I should have known.” He paused, shaking his head and holding back tears.

“Anyway, she was abducted by her stalker. We thought it was her fiance at first, but it wasn’t. It was his girlfriend...Diane.” He shuddered as the name left his lips. “She was a grad student at the university Maeve taught at and she rejected her thesis. Can you believe that? I lost the one good thing I had over a thesis?” He laughed bitterly, tears streaming down his face. It was deeper than that, but he didn’t care to explain.

“I only got 2,412 hours of communication with her. Even though I remember every word, it’ll never be enough.” He aggressively wiped at his cheeks. “I told Diane I’d die for her...for Maeve. I meant it, too. I would have died for her!” He slammed a frustrated hand on the table, shaking the tableware.

“Apparently that was the worst possible thing to say because it set her off. She...she shot herself in the head and the bullet...the b-bullet--” He cut himself off with a sob, unable to finish the sentence, the grief hitting him like it was a tsunami and he was an unsuspecting beach town.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” She repeated as she rushed to crouch down in front of him, taking both his hands. She kissed his knuckles before wiping her own tears.

What kind of world did they live in where they had to worry about tragedies like this? She suddenly had a brewing hatred for the world around her. How could it let something so terrible happen to someone so good. Spencer Reid was good, and he deserves nothing but good things in his life. As much as the story pained her, she couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he was feeling.

“I know you blame yourself, Spence. It’s gonna be hard not to at first. But you have to understand that none of this is your fault. You didn’t pull that trigger. She did. I’m so sorry, Spence. I’m so, so sorry. This should have never happened to you, or to anyone. The pain is gonna suck, grief is not easy, but you don’t have to go through it alone. You know that right?” She spoke softly, trying as hard as she could to keep her voice steady for him. He looked at her and saw the truth in her eyes. He nodded ever so slightly and sniffled.

“I know.” He squeezed her hands once and she smiled reassuringly. Her smile made him feel a little bit better. He didn’t want the team’s help, they’d all just treat him like a wounded puppy. She was so unconditionally compassionate and loving, he never wanted to stray far from her again. She got up from her crouched position and pulled him to stand with her. She wrapped her arms around his back and leaned into his chest. He squeezed her tighter, tears soaking into her shirt once again. “Thank you.” He muttered. She nodded. “How long are you staying?” His heart clenched, not wanting to see her go.

“I’ll be here for as long as you need, love.” She rubbed circles across his back. He pulled away to face her.

“What about your job?” He frowned, wiping a hand over his face.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got lots of vacation days saved up.” She reassured, “Besides, I’d rather be here with you than at that stupid job anyway.” She rolled her eyes, thinking of her impossible boss. Spencer suppressed a smile.

“Wait, you’re still working for--”

“Yup, same asshole.” She laughed and Spencer smiled.

He smiled!

He remembered all the times she would complain about her horrible boss over the phone.

“So, you said you moved?” Spencer asked, leading her back to the couch.

“Yeah, I really hated my old apartment.” Spencer nodded, “I’m really sorry for not calling you. I missed you so much and I thought about you practically every day...it’s just, you know, it’s easy to get caught up in all the little things.” She apologized, feeling guilty.

“It’s just as much my fault, I haven’t called either. And...I missed you too.” Spencer said.

“It’s alright, we’ve both been busy.” She smiled at him.

“You would have loved her.” Spencer trailed off, frowning. She let out a sigh.

“I’m sure I would have, Spence.” She mirrored his frown.

“She reminded me of you in a lot of ways now that I think about it. She was kind and compassionate. She was funny, she liked to make puns and she was good with words.” He reminisced sadly. All she could do was smile halfheartedly. On one hand, she was glad he got to experience such a love, but on the other, she found herself fighting off a feeling of jealousy.

“I never thought I’d get over you.” He admitted, fidgeting with his hands and avoiding her gaze, yet he said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Spencer had already bared his soul to her, what was this one confession in the grand scheme of things?

“What?” She whispered, completely caught off guard. He glanced at her to see her shocked face.

“What? Don’t act like you didn’t know.” He scoffed lightly. He was right, she always suspected his feelings for her but she never wanted to entertain the idea of it in case she was wrong. She’d been hurt so many times that she didn’t even want to think about being hurt by the one person she’d loved more than anyone else.

She loved Spencer. She knew that. There was no doubt in her mind. They were twin flames. They danced around each other and separated, but never burnt out.

“In fact, I don’t think I could ever get over you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.” He spoke quietly. “You don’t have to say anything right now, I’m not expecting you to. I think I’m so upset over Maeve because, of course, I loved her, but in so many ways she reminded me of you. And if I can’t protect her, then I can’t protect you.”

“I, um, I don’t know what to say.” She stammered. She knew he was overwhelmed with emotion so she tried not to take his words too literally. But the confession hit her like a truck. She didn’t know what to do. He’s mourning the loss of his girlfriend, it would be completely selfish for her to take advantage of his feelings. It’s not like he was asking anything of her, he was just hanging it all out to dry. He was so vulnerable right now, she couldn’t act upon her own feelings. They both knew that.

She felt her throat run dry at all the words she wanted to say, but she settled on, “We should talk about this later, Spence.”

He gave her a half smile and nodded, the numbness setting in.

The next few days blurred into each other. They consisted of Y/N cleaning up around the apartment, making food, doing laundry. Spencer was doing his best to help her out, but he found too much comfort inside the walls he built for himself. She didn’t push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. She’d convinced him to leave the house twice, both times going for a walk in the sunlight. She made sure he brushed his hair and shaved his face. Honestly without her, he’d probably still be stuck in his spot on the couch. She updated his coworkers daily, letting them know that he was doing better. She even held him at night when he cried for the love that was ripped too soon from him.

“Y/N?” Spencer called one morning as he walked in on her in the kitchen.

“Yeah?” She turned away from the coffee machine to face him. She still looked as beautiful as ever even under the light coming from his dodgy kitchen window.

“I just want to thank you. For all you’ve done for me. It couldn’t have been easy for you.” He smiled shyly. She smiled brightly at him, moving closer to wrap her arms around him tightly.

“You don’t have to thank me. You would have done the same for me.” She looked up at him and into his honey colored eyes. The eyes that have shed buckets worth of tears in the past few days.

“Yeah, I would have.” He joked, finally feeling like himself again, resting his hands on her waist. “I meant what I said, by the way.”

She nodded, “I know. But we’re not in any rush, are we? I’d wait for you forever if I had to, Spencer Reid.”

And he wouldn’t have to worry, because twin flames always find each other.

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid masterlist #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x maeve #spencer reid x reader #soencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot

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ninjettey · 4 years ago

Text

Boys and Aliens

Experiment 626 - A.K.A. Stitch escapes from the Intergalactic Prison Transport. The stolen police cruiser lands near Hawaii, but Stitch bailed out early, landing on the beach of Santa Carla.

AN: No Lilo. The trial dialogue is almost verbatim from the Lilo and Stitch movie. I do not own The Lost Boys or Stitch.

Chapter One

The Galactic Alliance councilman of all universal species were gathered in the massive coliseum. The Grand Councilwoman heading the proceedings of one Dr. Jumba Jookiba. An intelligent alien teetering on the line of insanity and brilliance. He was being charged with unethical experimentation in genetics. Jumba was heavily restrained and surrounded by guards on a floating platform in the center of the coliseum.

The Grand Councilwoman calls for silence before addressing the accused, “Read the charges.”

Gantu, Captain of the Galactic Alliance read Jumba’s charges out loud, “Dr. Jumba Jookiba-- lead scientist of Galaxy Defense Industries-- you stand before this council accused of illegal genetic experimentation.”

The coliseum was filled with hushed conversations in regards to the charges. Some repeating rumors of horrid experiments gone wrong. Or of the many times the doctor has relocated his laboratories to not raise suspicion. When the Grand Councilwoman speaks, every being quiets, “How do you plead?”

Jumba stood tall, confident that his experimentations were safely locked away in his laboratory. He was not going to lose. Not this time. With a clear and concise voice, “Not guilty. My experiments are only theoretical--completely within the legal boundaries.”

The coliseum burst in volume as everyone spoke their own opinion. The doors behind Jumba open. A massive containment unit floating into the room. Stopping near the center. Grand Councilwoman states, “We believe you’ve actually created something.”

The containment unit could be seen by every being. It proceeded to open. Jumba laughs, “Created something?! Ha! But that would be irresponsible and unethical. I would never, ever--… make more than one!” Inside a glass case was a little blue creature with big ears twitching with every sound, two antennae on the top of his round shaped head. Big, black bottomless eyes taking in his surroundings. His puppy-like nose is overwhelmed with the scents of every being. Four arms, two of which have the ability to shrink into himself to become a quadaped, three digits and opposable thumbs on each fur covered paw. Several spikes that act as additional antennae on his back. He was wearing an orange and red zipper-front jump-suit.

Captain Gantu blurted out, “What is that monstrosity?” Jumba sputters at the insult, “Monstrosity! What you see before you is the first of a new species. I call it Experiment 626. He is bulletproof, fireproof and can think faster than a supercomputer. He can see in the dark and move objects three thousand times his size! His only instinct: To destroy everything he touches!” Jumba falls over in his restraints as he cackles.

The Grand Councilwoman is shocked at the sight of the creature, “So, it is a monster?” Jumba stops cackling like a lunatic, “Only a little one.” Gantu voices his opinion, “It is an affront to nature. It should be destroyed!” Grand Councilwoman lifts her hand to stop the chatter, “Calm yourself, Captain Gantu. Perhaps it can be reasoned with. (to Stitch) Experiment 626, give us some sign you understand any of this. Show us that there is something inside you that is good.”

Experiment 626 ceases his efforts to escape the glass containment to answer the council, “MEEGA NALA KWEESTA! (I WANT TO DESTROY!)”

The audience gasps. The Grand Councilwoman clutches her chest, “So naughty.” Experiment 626 laughs hysterically while Jumba claims he didn’t teach him that, still trying to convince the council of his innocence even with the evidence laughing in their faces. Gantu issues the order, “Place that idiot scientist under arrest.” Jumba could be heard yelling, “I prefer to be called EVIL GENIUS!” As he put in his own containment unit and quickly shuttled away.

The Grand Councilwoman issues her judgement on the creature, “And as for that abomination, it is fiord project of a deranged mind. It has no place among us. Captain Gantu, take him away.” Gantu cracks his knuckles, “With pleasure.”

On board the prison transport, Experiment 626 is restrained to the ceiling of a cell, upside down with only his head visible. Two massive, eight barrel laser cannons pointed in his direction. Gantu taunts the creature, “Uncomfortable? Aw… Good! The council has banished you to exile on a desert asteroid. So, relax… enjoy the trip and don’t get any ideas! These guns are locked onto your genetic signature. They won’t shoot anyone but you.” Gantu walks away from the creature as one of the cell guards takes a syringe with the creature’s blood and injects it into the cannons. “Secure the cell.”

Captain Gantu returned to the bridge, “All ahead full.” The prison transport and the following brigade started the flight to the deserted asteroid. Experiment 626 was twisting in his restraints, loosening them up so he could escape. The cannons followed his every move, and that’s when an idea struck him. He used his saliva to gauge the reaction of these cannons and found they followed the dribble. The noise from his experiment captured the attention of the only present guard. The creature spit a massive wad of saliva onto the guard, triggering the cannons. This provided the distraction he needed to break free and escape his cell.

A female copilot announced, “Gunfire! In the cell bay!”

The creature had gotten loose, ventured into the ventilation system and exited into a loading bay. Stealing a police cruiser, he blasted through the loading bay doors and flew into space. He passed by the bridge windows and one alien noted, “He uh… took the red one.”

Other police cruisers closed in on the creature’s craft. He had punched through the dash to disable the tracking system. He could hear the commands flowing through the coms device on the dashboard. It was then he knew he would have a better chance of escaping if he activated the hyper-drive. The damage from the punch to disable the tracking system, also damaged navigation. He activated the hyper-drive with no predetermined designation.

With no way to track the creature, the Galactic Alliance didn’t know where to begin to look for the creature. The Grand Councilwoman had issued an order to watch for any suspicious activity anywhere in the universe. “It is going to take a millennia to find that abomination. Gantu, I am putting you in charge of tracking down that creature.” Gantu hung his head in shame, “Yes, Grand Councilwoman.”

Meanwhile

626 comes out of hyper-drive near Earth. He flies towards the unknown planet. The pressure from entering the atmosphere has the craft groaning, the internal pressure building up. 626 releases the ejector seat, landing on a desolate beach at night, the craft crashes hundreds of miles away in the ocean. The advanced craft was not detected on Earth’s radars. 626 released the restraints of the seat, pulled off the suit and threw everything into the ocean. Getting rid of any evidence of his arrival for now.

He took a look around. Several hundred yards away were bright lights of some sort of amusement park. 626 cautiously moved towards it. He was about one-hundred yards away from this amusement park when he heard some loud, rambunctious laughter, then a small voice crying for help. On the other side of a sand dune was a bonfire and a group of grown, intoxicated men tossing around a small child. 626 being new to the planet needed someone to show him around. This small, innocent being may be able to help him adapt to this planet before he destroys it.

Rushing towards the group of men, 626 claws, bites and tears apart the men. Leaving the normally golden sand below his paws crimson red and sticky. The small being lifts his head from the ground, his face bloodied and swollen. He looks around and sees various body parts strewn around the area and a strange creature with four arms walking up to him. 626 approaches the boy, “Meega 626.” The creature gestures to himself, then to the boy, “Yuuga?” The boy takes a swallow breath, “Laddie. Thank you.” The boy promptly passed out. 626 sniffed the boy for his scent and possibly scents of others like him. He turned his nose to the sky trying to catch the scent of the others, finding it leads to the amusement park.

Picking up the boy with his top two arms, he runs towards the boardwalk, keeping in the shadows. The scent of the others has become very strong above his head. He tilted his head listening to the raised voices above him, “You were supposed to keep an eye on him Star! Laddie could be anywhere. So help me, if he is hurt, I will tear you apart.” 626 perks up when he recognizes Laddie’s name. He gently sets Laddie down and climbs the post to the top of the boardwalk. 626 sat on the top railing looking at the five humans staring at him.

The group of four men and one woman turn towards the noise of something crawling up the side of the boardwalk. It perched on the top railing. This strange creature just looks at them with it’s big black eyes. They can see it’s covered in blood. The man with long, dark hair is the closest to 626. He could smell Laddie’s blood on him as well as the blood of other men. The man moves to grasp the creature, but 626 jumps out of reach. “Where is he? Where is Laddie?!” The man yells, his eyes shifting to a yellow with red outer line before shifting back. 626 points to under the boardwalk with one of his paws.

The man brushes past 626 and jumps over the railing landing in the sand next to the boy, “Laddie!” The boy jolts awake hearing one of his brothers calling his name. “Dwayne, where’s 626?” Laddie asked in a quiet voice as Dwayne picked him up. The other three men followed Dwayne down. The man with a really poofy mane asked, “What’s 626?” “He saved me from Surf Na….” Laddie’s heavy lidded eyes close as he passes out again. His breathing is raspy and shallow. A classic sign of broken ribs. One of the men dressed in all black and short hair spoke, “Dwayne, take Laddie back to the cave. The rest of us will find where Laddie was attacked. Star?” The girl looks at her ex. He handed her some money. “Get something to eat.” His way of telling her to go away. Dwayne left on his bike with Laddie.

626 was watching from the shadows under the boardwalk. He looked back and forth between the boy leaving on a motorcycle and the rest of the group. One of them looked in the general direction of 626, “You can come out. We’re not going to hurt you.” This one had on an interesting, colorful, patch-covered jacket. The creature moved out from behind the pillar he was partially hiding behind. The men looked up at 626, he was on the under-side of the boardwalk looking down at them. 626 tilted his head, narrowed his eyes at the men. He didn’t want to trust them, but they don’t seem afraid of him and he doesn’t have a choice. 626 crawled down the post, approaching the men with caution.

Marko, Paul and David were able to get a better look at this strange creature. They couldn’t look away from this four armed, big eyed creature that looked like it belonged in a Sci-Fi movie. The four beings were distracted from their staring contest when a dog barked. 626 looked at the noisy creature running on the beach, then himself and decided to try and blend in better. These men watched as 626 pulled two of his arms, his antennae on the top of his head, and the spikes on his back into his body. Now, 626 looked more like a weird species of canine. Poofy mane enthusiastically exclaimed, “That was so cool. I’m Paul.” He pats the one with the brightly colored jacket covered in patches, “This is Marko, and the one in all black is David.”

David rolled his eyes at Paul. The stoner is way too cheerful sometimes. David lit a cigarette before speaking to 626, “Can you show us where you saved Laddie?” 626 nodded his head, “Ih.” They went back to their bikes. 626 got excited when he saw them. He climbed onto the gas tank of the closest one, which turned out to be Marko’s. The guys chuckled at him. Marko mounted his bike and told 626 to hold on. Kicking their bikes to life, they drove down the nearest stairs and onto the beach following the general direction 626 pointed. The closer they got to the slowly dying bonfire, the stronger the smell of blood got.

The guys parked their bikes and climbed up the sand dune. They looked back and forth between 626 and the mess he made. Paul and Marko suddenly bust out laughing. They laugh so hard there’s tears running down their faces. David chuckles, “Impressive. Come on boys, let’s help him clean up.” 626 was a little confused but he helped throw what’s left of the Surf Nazis into the bonfire. Once done, David crouches to 626’s level, “It would be best if you stayed with us. Most people wouldn’t react the way we did.” Knowing David was right, 626 went with them back to their cave that they call home.

Dwayne looked up as the rest of the guys and 626 entered the cave. He stood from where he was sitting on Laddie’s bed. The boy had been bandaged, given some blood from the ‘wine’ bottle they keep and was falling asleep. David asked, “How is he?” Dwayne ran one of his hands through his hair, “He has a concussion, broken ribs, busted lip, and his left arm was broken. Did you find the assholes that did it?” David looked over his shoulder at 626, who was crawling up the wall exploring the cave, “Yeah. Little guy tore them apart. Five Surf Nazis have been taken out.” Laddie’s small voice was heard, “Six. There were six.” A sound pretty similar to that of a cat hacking up a hairball was heard from 626. He had coughed up a wallet and a cheap watch. The guys didn’t even bat an eye. Marko picked up the wallet soaked in drool, “Welp, I think we know what happened to Greg.” The guys all shared a look, “He could be our very own Hellhound.”

Dwayne went up to 626 to really look at him. He tilted his head, “What are you?” 626 brought his other two arms, antennae and spikes out, “Meega Experiment 626.” He points towards the outside, “Me crash.” Those two, broken English sentences explained quite a bit. “Okay boys, got ourselves an actual alien,” David sat in his wheelchair. 626 felt a little worried, thinking these beings were going to alert the Galactic Alliance. Dwayne was still watching the small creature and saw the look on his face. “We won’t tell anyone you’re here. We are not exactly law-abiding citizens.” 626 was relieved for the moment. He still planned on destroying the planet. But he would need to commandeer or build a ship first. His thoughts were interrupted by Marko, “Why don’t you make yourself at home. We’re going to sleep soon. We sleep during daylight.”

Looking around the cave, 626 spots the boy, Laddie’s bed. The alien gets on the foot of the bed, burrows under the blanket and gets comfortable. He was asleep before the sun rose. Star returned and went to bed without saying a word to anyone. The guys glared at her back, waiting for the day she either turns fully or they get permission to kill her. She has one job, and that is to look after Laddie. Star keeps screwing that up. If it wasn’t for 626, Laddie would have died tonight. The sun was starting to rise, so the guys ventured to their subcave to sleep.

#the lost boys #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #paul #dwayne #marko #the lost boys 1987

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floating-mid-air · 4 years ago

Text

The Princess of All Saiyans

Masterlist

So first things first. I should probably mention that I killed Chi-Chi off before the start of the story. I completely forgot to include it in the notes last chapter. So sorry if there was any confusion there.

Ever since the last chapter, I've been kinda hooked on flashbacks. So there will be another one, this one featuring the man, the myth, the legend, the most ruthless of all the Saiyans King Vegeta. Also, my dumbass finally decided to create a Masterlist. I realized it's much easier than linking chapters individually.

Chapter 7

You've been on Planet Namek for approximately two hours, and the day has already been tremendously eventful. You and Vegeta have already had a run-in with Cui, who arrived shortly after you. That purple cretin went out the same way he lived as a spineless coward. Something was extremely satisfying about watching Vegeta drive that failure into the ground. Cui's demise was entirely his own fault. It's common knowledge that Saiyans grow stronger after a near-death experience. Underestimating your brother's growth was an act of pure stupidity.

After that minor inconvenience, the two of you toon into Dodoria's transmission, it sounds like those goons are slaughtering a village of Namekians, so they must store their Dragon Balls in separate settlements. Either that or they're executing them for leisure. Both are feasible possibilities. From what you've been able to gather, Frieza has four Dragon Balls in his possession, and he's currently after his fifth. Frieza even reveals some essential information on how these Namkeian villages operate. Before the signal cuts off entirely.

Vegeta attempts to find another channel, but they all come up as static. "Those Namekians must be craftier than they look. Something tells me Frieza's scouters are out of commission."

"Perhaps." He turns to you. "Or they figured out we were eavesdropping. Either way, keep your guard up."

The two of you fly around aimlessly. Though you still need to be careful. Frieza is somewhere on this god-forsaken planet, and a run-in with him and his lackeys at the moment would be unfavorable. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot something that catches your attention. " I spy with my little eye an unsightly pink blob."

You direct Vegeta's attention to Dodoria, who has his classic disoriented look on his face. "Good eye." He smirks at you before ambushing Dodoria, knocking him into the water. You appear beside your brother on the shoreline, observing the water intently.

Two pink hands grasp onto the terrain as he pulls his head up, gasping for air. You both laugh maniacally at the pink creature's stupidity. You swear, after every encounter you have with Dodoria, he somehow gets dumber. "Oh, it's you two." He sounds far from pleased as he pulls himself out of the lake. "What the hell do you want?"

"Mind your manners, Dodoria." You scold him. "No need to be crude."

He scowls at you. "Arrogant Saiyans." He mutters under his breath. "That was a dirty trick Vegeta. Although I wouldn't expect anything less from you monkeys." Dodoria straightens his posture in an attempt to appear more intimidating. Spoiler alert, it doesn't work. "You know I can't just let you get away with blindsiding me."

Vegeta chuckles, rolling his eyes at the monster. "Oh, really now? Just what do you plan on doing? You're all alone. There's no Zarbon or Frieza for you to cower behind. How unfortunate for you."

"I doubt we'll even have to lift a finger." You shrug. "This should be a piece of cake."

Dodoria chuckles, shifting his gaze between you and Vegeta. "You two really think you can take me? You're both as egotistical as that father of yours, and you know how that ended for him. You Saiyan freaks will never be half the warrior that I am." You clench your fists, your nails digging into your palm. How dare he even mention your father. "Listen, I know neither of you desires to fight me. And I don't particularly want to fight you either. So how about you just give me that scouter, and we can forget this ever happened. That's more than a fair deal. I think I'm actually being quite generous." His tone may be confident, but his body language gives him away. Who knew the pink menace was actually afraid of something.

"So your presumption was right." Vegeta turns to you. "Those Namekians must have destroyed their scouters. This puts us in an intriguing situation, doesn't it Y/N?" Vegeta removes his scouter, tossing it on the ground. "What are you waiting for, Dodoria? Take it."

He eyes you both skeptically, but he still takes the bait. Critical thinking has never been Dodoria's strong suit. "About time you brats showed me the respect I deserve." As he steps closer, Vegeta stomps on the scouter. The wretched thing, smashing into thousands of worthless pieces.

The pink monstrosity sneers. "No worries. I'll just take the girl's scouter." He speeds toward you, extending a hand in an attempt to rip the device off your face. Before he can even touch you, you grasp his arm, bending it behind his back.

"Why do they always think it's appropriate to get handsy with me?" A breathy sigh escapes your lips. "They'll never learn." You remove your scouter, holding it in the palm of your unoccupied hand. "Since you want it so bad." You snap your scouter in half, discarding the parts to the ground. "You ever think about laying your filthy hands on me again, you'll lose them." You toss the fool several feet away. The farther away he is, the better.

"Why would you--- it doesn't even matter." He stands back up, dusting himself off. "Now, you won't be able to find the Dragon Balls either."

You shake your head at him, a pleased look crossing your features. "Not exactly. You see, Earth was quite the adventure. We picked up a few new tricks. One that leaves those hunks of metal useless."

Dedoria furrows his brows at you, his entire face contorting. "You're lying."

"I'm afraid she isn't. This energy-sensing technique is quite simple. I doubt any of the members of the elite Frieza Force would be interested, though. It doesn't require much strength, and everyone knows you don't care for anything that doesn't involve flexing your muscles." Dodoria is more fat than muscle. It's an irrelevant technicality, one that would only piss off the blob more.

"I get it now." He seems to come to some sort of a realization. Only you have no idea what the hell he's referring to. "Those two runts I was chasing were earthlings." You stare at him in disbelief. Is it possible for them to be here? Raditz, he's the only possible explanation. But would he really be dumb enough to lead those weaklings to their deaths?

"W-What did you say?" Vegeta's mouth hangs agape.

"So I'm right. The looks on your faces tell me all I need to know. You're working together."

You combust into a fit of laughter, wiping tears from your eyes. This has to be the funniest thing you've heard all week. "Even if those pests were here. Never in a million years would we align ourselves with those soft-hearted fools."

"You must be mistaken. Even if those earthlings were here, we'd be able to sense them." Now that you think about it. Have you been able to sense them? You haven't been looking, but you have felt some strange energy. You just assumed it was some half-wit from the Frieza Force, but now you're not so sure.

"It doesn't really matter anyway." He rolls his eyes. "You two are no longer any use to me. So either get lost, or I'll have to finish you off myself."

"Why, how generous of you." The sarcasm practically drips from your voice. "I think he's afraid Vegeta."

"Well, can you blame him? His scouter probably told him everything he needed to know. He must have seen my battle with Cui." For every step Vegeta takes forward, Dodoria takes another backward. "He must have seen how much stronger I've become."

"That isn't possible." He scoffs. "Those numbers were inaccurate, and I'll prove it!" He shoots an uncontrollable blast of fire at you both, which you simply dodge by stepping out of the line of fire.

"Was that really the best you could do?" You mock. It was sloppy even for an attack from Dodoria.

He turns around, only to be met with the two of you behind him, floating in the air. Vegeta swiftly moves behind him, grabbing both of his arms, twisting them behind his back. You swear you even heard them snap. "Look how weak you are." Vegeta sneers. "I'm stronger than I've ever been. While you've been sitting on your ass all-day, becoming soft and lazy. I should just end your pitiful life here."

"Wait, Vegeta!" He cries. "I have something to tell you! Something you'll really want to know! It's about your homeworld. I know the truth about Planet Vegeta!" Does that pink blob actually believe he has a form of leverage? What a fool.

"What could you possibly know about Planet Vegeta? You better start talking!" You furrow your brows at your brother. He's behaving strangely. And why is he humoring Dodoria in the first place? Vegeta has to already know about what they did to your homeworld.

"I will, but first, you have to let me go." Vegeta releases Dodoria from his death grip, pushing him away.

"Now, spit it out!" You observe the pair from a safe distance. Vegeta's response is bizarre, and his body language seems to have no ulterior motives. Is it possible that Vegeta doesn't know? You grab your forehead, running a hand through your hair. If that's the case, Vegeta is going to fucking kill you.

"As you know, Planet Vegeta was destroyed, but it wasn't by a meteor. Lord Frieza had started to notice numerous Saiyan babies being born with extraordinary combat skills. You two were the most notable in power. He realized that you Saiyans could really be a problem. You had the potential of becoming a real bother to Lord Frieza's regime. So he decided to wipe out the only race that could ever impose him before they could even become an issue. He destroyed Planet Vegeta with every last Saiyan on it. Well, except for you two. Did you really think it was a coincidence that you were off-planet? So there it is, you two are finally in on our little joke."

You've always known what happened to your planet. But now you've learned the answer to an even more substantial question, why it occurred. Frieza was afraid. He decided to take the coward's way out. How pathetic.

You laugh, tilting your head backward. "That was your big ploy? I've known about that for years!" Before he can even react, you teleport behind him, impaling your hand through his chest, watching the purple goop ooze out of him. "How stupid did you think we were?" You twist your hand, tossing his lifeless body to the ground before obliterating anything left of him.

Vegeta stares at you in shock. "You knew?"

You raise a brow at him. "You didn't?" You always assumed that it was one of those things that you both knew but never spoke off. Turns out you were mistaken.

The two of you stand in silence. You have no idea what the protocol is for this. You don't know what you're supposed to say. Vegeta looks away, sighing. "It's irrelevant now. It was probably for the best that I was left in ignorance. Who knows what I would've done as a child. I'm just annoyed that you were able to figure it out before me."

You smile at him. Besting Vegeta is not something that comes easily. So you'll take what you can get. "You know, I don't think he was wrong about the earthlings."

"You think they're here?"

You nod. "You gotta remember. Raditz is with them now."

"Good point. When I get my hands on that pathetic excuse for a Saiyan, he'll regret ever betraying us. Let's go. We can't be out in the open for too long."

He hovers in the air, beginning to take off. "Vegeta." He turns back, meeting your gaze. "You know I would've told you, right?"

"I know---" He cuts himself off, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. "Do you sense that?" You nod, taking off in the direction of the two large power sources. Dodoria had mentioned that they were runts. So one of them has to be the half-breed and possibly the bald fellow. Your eyes scan over the terrain. They have to be around here somewhere. "They must be suppressing their power levels. Only if I still had my damn scouter. I'm not used to this technique just yet."

Bingo. You found them hiding between a few boulders. And your assumptions were right. There's only a slight difference. They seem to be accompanied by a Namkian child. A sadistic grin spreads across your face as their gazes land on you. Just the way you remember them, cowering in fear due to your presence. "You know. It was probably just three insignificant insects." You're not wrong. That's all they are to you. Pesky flies that invade your personal space and make your life slightly more irritating.

"You're right. We don't have time for this anyway. Let's get a move on." You both take off, leaving the earthling issue for another time.

It took you awhile, but you finally located a Namkeian village. Well, actually, you passed several, but this is the only one with a living population. "Looks like we found ourselves a Dragon Ball." Vegeta's lips twist into a sly grin, heading straight into the village. You follow his lead, now standing directly beside him. You've finally gained the attention of the inhabitants, who are now murmuring to each other. Who knew Namekians were such gossips. Their chatter dies down the second Vegeta clears his throat. "I wish to speak to your elder. I believe there is a Dragon Ball here, that we'll be graciously taking off your hands."

"I'm the village elder." An older Namkain steps up. These creatures do not age kindly. "I would ask you what your intentions are, but I can already feel that you are impure. I sense an unspeakable evil in both of you. Neither of you is worthy." What a self-righteous species. They're entirely different from that Namekian you encountered on Earth.

Vegeta shakes his head, chuckling to himself. Only if the Namekians cooperated, Vegeta has never taken the word no very well. "Then you die. Y/N, you do the honors." This could've ended smoothly, with a lot less bloodshed. Too bad for them.

"You got it, Vegeta." You hold up a finger gun, pointing it straight at the elder. "Bang!" A beam of blue light heads straight for the geezer before another Namkian jumps in front of him, absorbing the blast entirely. The body drops to the ground, and all hell breaks loose.

You begin the slaughter, ending the lives of several Namkeians. Until you freeze, as much as you've been itching for a fight, you're reminded of something far more crucial that you have to fulfill. Damn your morals. They're ruining all your fun. You take one last glance at your brother. These Namekians should keep him occupied for some time. He might not even notice that you ever left. As soon as he turns away from you, you take off, successfully staying off of Vegeta's radar.

You use your newly acquired energy-sensing technique to track down that Namekian child. Since those earthlings are suppressing their energy, they'll be much more difficult to find. This is assuming he's still with them. Those earthlings aren't like you. Neither of them would be able to stomach, leaving him for dead.

You pinpoint the energy source to a cave. What a strange place for them to reside in. You head into the cavern, only to find some form of futuristic architecture. How the hell did this get here? And what is Capsule Corp? You move toward the door, banging on it. "Knock, knock. Oh, little piglets, let me in! Before I knock the door down. Or worse." You can overhear faint whispering on the other side, mixed with a woman obnoxiously shrieking. "I can hear you panicking. Relax, I have no business with the half-breed, the Namekian child, or any earthlings in there. Now open the damn door."

The door slowly opens, revealing the bald man, whose name you believe to be Krillin. "What do you want, Y/N?"

"I need to speak to Raditz. It's urgent."

"Well, you can't---" Krillin gets pushed to the ground by none other than the infamous Hair Boy himself. This allows you to step inside the building. It must be some sort of luxury living quarters.

The two of you stand arm's length from each other, matching cold expressions on your faces. "You here to kill me?"

"No." The corners of your lips tug upwards. "Well, at least not yet."

"So why are you here?" His face twists in confusion. "You aren't one to just drop in and say hi."

You take a deep breath, glancing around the room. This would be difficult to say one-on-one, but being surrounded by people makes it ten times worse. "There's something--- I need to tell you."

An arrogant smirk appears on his lips. "What? Did you finally fall for my good looks and charm? Are you finally declaring that you've fallen hopelessly in love with me?"

Your face scrunches up in disgust. "Don't make me ill." That would never happen, even if he was the last male Saiayn in existence, which he pretty much is. "I'm here to tell you the truth about what occurred on Planet Vegeta."

"What are you talking about?" Raditz eyebrows knit together. "A meteor wiped out our people."

You sigh, glancing at the ceiling. "Come on, Raditz. You're a lot of things, but you aren't stupid. There was no meteor. Even if there was one, our people could fly."

"What are you trying to say?" he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to shield himself from the inevitable blow.

"Our people were exterminated by that imperialistic dictator." Your voice booms. You're not even attempting to conceal your anger.

Raditz clenches his fists, his hands violently shaking. All he can think about is his mother, how she deserved better. The majority of your people deserved what they got, but not Gine. She was different. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Raditz always knew there was no meteor. The story was too perfect, and it was easier to believe that it was a tragedy. "Why?" That was all he could manage to choke out. Did Raditz really want to know? Would he be able to handle the truth?

The others in the room remain silent, observing you anxiously. You're even more terrifying than they believed. You're not joking around or aloof this time. You're only expressing one thing, pure rage. So you do care about something. Whether you desire vengeance or truly cared for your people is unclear to the earthlings.

"Frieza was terrified. Our people were getting too strong for his liking. The Saiyan population was skyrocketing due to technological advancements. He was scared of what we could accomplish, terrified of the possibility that he could be out-ranked."

A Cheshire grin appears on Raditz's face. "We'll prove to him that he was right to fear us, right?"

"You bet your ass we will. We'll make Frieza regret leaving us alive." You take a deep breath, finally attempting to get your emotions in check, returning to your cold demeanor. "I just thought you should know. Before I killed him, Dodoria let the cat out of the bag to Vegeta."

"You killed that pink asshole? It was about time. How'd it feel?" The other stare at you two in bewilderment. Two seconds ago, you were swearing revenge, and now you're as casual as can be.

"It was extremely satisfying sending that pink blob straight to hell." You purse your lips together, cracking your neck. I should get back before Vegeta blows a fuse." You move to the doorway, stopping dead in your tracks. "Oh, ya one, last thing. Frieza's here."

"We know his men are here. We've already had the pleasure of encountering the Frieza Force."

"Raditz, I'm afraid you don't understand. It's not just his minions. He's here on Namek." Raditz chokes on air, his eyes popping out. You slam the door shut, hearing Raditz's reaction through the walls. The phrases we're so fucked, and we're all gonna die were your favorites of his elaborate babbling. You take off, heading back in the direction you came from.

As you near the location of the village, you quickly realize there is no point in returning. You can't sense any life, and that includes Vegeta. So this means he knows you ran off. You were due for one of his famous lectures anyway. Hopefully, he's not wasting his time searching for you. That would only make your predicament worse.

You search in every direction, finally detecting your brother's energy to the west. Vegeta's power level is diminishing at an alarming rate. Maybe he's run into Zarbon or worse, Frieza. You take off at light speed, heading straight for the battleground.

Once you arrive, you conceal yourself behind a hill, observing the battle intently. It appears that Vegeta is fighting Zarbon, but something is off about the narcissist. His chest seems broader than it usually is.

Zarbon turns around, your eyes widening at the ghastly sight. What the fuck happened to his face? He has to be the most hideous creature you've ever laid your eyes on, and there's a lot of competition for that category. This must be an alternate form of his, similar to your Great Ape form. It doesn't surprise you that you've never seen his transformation before. Even though it considerably increases his strength, his vanity has no limit.

The green-haired egomaniac slams your brother into the ground, creating a blazing explosion. He stares down into the water-filled crater, and Vegeta is nowhere to be found. Your brother has gotten especially good at playing dead as of recent.

Zarbon reverts back into his base form, flying off into the distance. You wait an appropriate amount of time before heading toward the teal mass of water. You scan the lake, searching for your brother. He surfaces back up seconds later, desperately gasping for air. You extend a hand to Vegeta, pulling him onto land.

He takes a few moments to collect himself before glaring daggers at you. "Where the--- hell did you run off to?" Despite being winded, he manages to find the breath to shout at you.

"I sensed some members of the Frieza Force. Thought I'd say hello." Believable lies are your specialty at this point.

"You can't---" He stops himself, his features softening at your expression. "Just never do that again. No more running off, especially without telling me. I'm serious this time. With Freiza here, I don't want you leaving my side again."

You can feel a familiar power level rapidly approaching, Zarbon's returning. "Change of plans. Go retrieve the Dragon Ball from that Namkian village. I tossed it in the water. I'll take care of the five that Frieza has."

"But, Vegeta." You giggle. "I'm not supposed to leave your side."

He glares at you. "Of course, now you decide to start listening to me. There is no reason for both of us to get captured. Now go!" You move to camouflage yourself again. Zarbon must need Vegeta for something. They most likely found the decimated village and want to question him about the location of the orb.

You watch Zarbon pick up your brother, who's pretending to be unconscious, and he flys away. You wait till you can no longer see Zarbon before speeding off to the Namekian village. Your plan is to retrieve the sphere and then take shelter somewhere. That is until you can sense Vegeta again.

You land in the ruins that were once the Namekian village. Damn Vegeta, did a lot of damage here. Your head snaps to the water. You swear you heard a splashing noise, and it couldn't have been a sea creature. If it was, the sound would've been louder. So what is it? Could it be one of Freiza's goons? If it is, they're probably weak. You'd be able to take them out with ease.

The creature emerges from the water with the four-star ball in his hands. He's a tiny little thing, way too small to be anyone currently in the Frieza Force. Something about the runt seems vaguely familiar. Wait a minute, that's Kakarot's brat. His hair's just shorter than it used to be. Half breeds must be able to change the length and style of their hair, fascinating.

You sneak behind him with a blank look on your face. "What do you think you're doing, brat?"

Gohan jumps, turning around. "Y/N?" He shrieks, dropping the orb, which you swiftly catch one-handed. He looks around, anxiously searching for something or possibly someone. "Where's Vegeta?" His voice trembles just at saying your brother's name alone. Vegeta must have left quite the impression.

"Vegeta got himself---" You can feel Zarbon's impending presence once again, and the look on the brat's face tells you he can sense it too. This energy-sensing technique is becoming quite tedious, but you suppose it's better than being blindsided. What could Zarbon possibly want now? He already took Vegeta. Maybe he came to search for the Dragon Ball himself? Shit, you can't stay out in the open like this. You grab Gohan in one arm. And the four-starred ball in the other, rushing into a nearby cave. As an extra precaution, you seal the entrance with a boulder. Zarbon may be vain, but he's also significantly brighter than Dodoria was. Though that isn't very hard to do.

You put a finger up to your lips, signaling for Gohan to keep quiet. The foot-steps outside grow louder. He must be standing right outside the cave by now. "Where are you, Vegeta?" He sounds deranged. So Vegeta did escape. Your best guess for Zarbon's erratic behavior is that Vegeta's prison break put Zarbon in hot water with Frieza. "Lord Frieza is going to have my head if I don't retrieve those Dragon Balls." Your insane brother actually did it. He stole the Dragon Balls from right under Frieza's nose. You're father's probably smiling up from hell as we speak.

You slide against the cave wall, dropping to the ground, leaning your head against the rock. You both might be here for a while. Zarbon is quite thorough with his searches. If he were to find you, it would put you in a tricky situation, especially with a Dragon Ball in your possession.

Gohan walks over to you, sitting down across from you. "Who is that?" Even though he's whispering, he's still being too loud for your liking."

"It's Zarbon. Now be quiet." You cover the orange ball in dirt and moss. If Zarbon does find you, the orb will be hidden in plain sight. Once finished with your little project, you shut your eyes. It's almost like you're alone. And not trapped in an enclosed space with your opposition's son.

"Y/N?" Your eyes snap open, immediately narrowing at the boy. You were about to reprimand him, but that was until you noticed the item in his hands. Your features soften as he extends the necklace to you.

You accept the necklace, grasping it tightly in your hands. "Thanks." A slight smile ghosts your lips before quickly vanishing.

"I was just returning what was yours." He looks at you, nervously twiddling his thumbs. "Hey Y/N? Where did you get that necklace from?" You hold up the jewelry, swinging the chain back and forth, getting lost in the memory.

Twenty-something years ago:

You're sitting down on your bed, with a book placed in your hands. Your gaze scans carefully over each word, occasionally flicking your wrist to flip the page. This is the newest piece of literature in your vast collection. You've only had this book for a few weeks. Vegeta gave it to you when he and Nappa returned from a mission off-planet. The book is all about these things called wish orbs. If you gather all seven, you can be granted all sorts of magical wishes. Vegeta says they're nothing more than a fairytale. That it's childish to believe in such an absurd concept, but you're convinced they exist. You've definitely seen stranger things occur, so it's in the realm of possibility for orbs to grant wishes.

You hadn't even noticed that your father had entered your room. Until he was standing directly in front of you. Panic overtakes your body, your heart beating out of your chest. You slide the book under your comforter, even though it was much too late to hide the evidence. Your reaction may seem a bit extreme, but it's for a good reason. Books aren't necessarily illegal on Planet Vegeta, but they are forbidden. Your father believes that literacy is a waste of time. He considers combat training to be more essential to the prosperity of the Saiyan race.

"Relax." His gruff voice invades your ears. "I already know about the various books you hide around the palace." The king is a very observant man, making it extremely challenging to keep things from him. His general policy regarding situations like this is, he won't say anything unless someone brings it to his attention. Then he would be forced to move his hand, having to find a proper form of punishment.

"Is---Is there something you need?" It's not like him to drop by unannounced. Your father is a very busy man, sometimes you won't even see him for months at a time.

"As you know, you're going on a crucial mission tomorrow. Are you going to behave for your brother?" You nod in agreement. "You are also not to leave his side, do you understand me?" Ever since the incident, you're not allowed off-planet without either your father or Vegeta. One of them has to watch you like a hawk at all times because of one stupid mistake. That will probably be held over your head for the rest of your mortal life.

"Yes, sir." You decide to give him verbal confirmation as well. This way, you can avoid any potential lectures.

"Now, let's get down to business. While I was out on my last excursion. I found this piece of junk with my things. I thought I'd check if you wanted it before I destroyed it." He holds up the necklace. The pendant immediately catches your eye. It's one of the pictures from your book, the four-star wish orb.

You nod, accepting the gift. You wrap the chain around your wrist, toying with the trinket. You've gotten pretty good at reading between the lines when it comes to your father. Saiyans aren't meant to express their emotions. You're raised to suppress them. Your father picks up on little things, like the fact that you're currently obsessed with wish orbs. You and Vegeta had to have gotten your conflicting behaviors from somewhere. And that somewhere was your father. The King of all Saiyans, the most ruthless of them all, deeply cared for his children.

He places his hands on your shoulders, causing you to look up at him. His eyes flicker with vulnerability as you stare at him. "Listen to me. Vegeta needs you just as much as you need him. You are capable of things that he isn't. And you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You are my sole daughter, the pinnacle of Saiyan pride. Never forget where you came from."

"A-Are you alright? You're acting weird."

"I'm fine, Y/N. Now get to sleep. You have to be up early." He leans down, kissing the top of your head before exiting the room. This only elevates your confusion. Your father has never done that before. Physical affection is not something Saiyan's participate in. At least they aren't supposed to.

Little did you know, this would be the last time you ever saw your father alive. Looking back on it, as an adult, his strange behavior makes sense. This was his way of saying goodbye. He must have had some inkling about Frieza's plans for your race.

You snap back into reality, shifting your gaze to Gohan. Typically when you spaced out, it would irritate your companions. Maybe it would even earn you a scolding from Vegeta. But the kid has just been sitting there, keenly anticipating your response.

"My father gave it to me." Your tone softens. Nostalgia sometimes does that to you. Gohan is the first person you've ever told the origin of your necklace. It wasn't necessarily a secret. You've just never felt the need to talk about it.

Some Final Notes:

"Wasn't he the king, though? Couldn't he have given you a diamond or gold necklace? Or something fit for royalty?"

"He could have. It was more about the sentiment behind the necklace." And with that, the silence returns. Being in this cave really reminds you of your pod. Scratch that it's worse. The brat is just too nice to the point where it's nauseating. For the half-breed's sake, you hope that Zarbon leaves soon. Because you're not sure how much more of this you'll be able to take.

Some Final Notes:

I know some of you might think King Vegeta was a bit out of character. However, I believe King Vegeta did care for his children to an extent. I know there’s some confusion in the fanbase about Tarble, whether he’s canon or not. But since the script for Yo! Son Goku and His Friends Return!!! was a concept created by Akira Toriyama. I personally believe Tarble is cannon. So King Vegeta banishing his son, rather than executing him, does show he had empathy for Tarble, even though he was viewed as a disgrace on his entire bloodline.

#goku #goku x reader #saiyan reader #vegeta #vegeta's sister #dbz x reader #dbz fanfiction #dragon ball x reader #dragon ball z #dragon ball fanfiction #son goku x reader

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maliby · 5 years ago

Text

Taste of Little | pjm (M)

↬ Pairing: Jimin x Fem Reader ↬ Story Genre: fluff with a spread of smut ↬ Warnings: explicit language, explicit sex scene, mentions of cheating, body insecurities ↬ Word count: 4.2K ↬ Summary: It was yours and your boyfriend Jimin’s first anniversary, aka the night you were finally going to have sex. Every thing was going fine until he simply leaves you high and dry; turns out Jimin is hiding a little secret that he’s too scared to tell you. Will your love for him be bigger than that?

For: The Intimacy Anthology Project

“Excuse me, are you Y/N?” A handsome stranger asked as he approached your table that was conveniently close to the exit so you could bolt if anything went wrong.

“Yes, I am, and you must be Jimin right?” You stated as you looked at the black hoody Jimin said he’d be wearing.

“Yes,” he smiled. His smile was so sweet and warm that you swore he could make a rockfall in love with him just with that smile alone.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

It’s been exactly one year today since you first met Jimin at the same cafe you were in right now - the ‘Aroma Mocha’.

At first, when your friend and roommate Jenna had set you up to go on a blind date with him you didn’t really want to go. The reason was that you had sworn off guys ever since your last relationship ended with your ex choking on another man’s dick on your couch wearing your lingerie. So, when your friend came up with the suggestion of getting back out there you had shut her down immediately. It wasn’t until you lost some stupid bet over Jenna banging an idol that you were “obliged” to go on a date with her coworker Jimin (something that now made you thank your lucky stars every day).

“You’re late mister,” you pointed to your watch as your handsome boyfriend walked in in a rush.

“I’m so sorry baby,” he said before tenderly kissing your lips. “Happy anniversary,” the smile on his lips reminded you of the very first time he smiled at you, in this very cafe, and, the very first time he ever made your heart race.

“Happy anniversary.”

“Namjoon was attempting to cook dinner for Jin and he almost sliced his finger off so I had to take him to the hospital,” he took off his denim jacket as he sat opposite you. He then picked up the menu and looked through it, searching for something to order.

“I swear Namjoon needs a babysitter, doesn’t he know he’s not allowed near sharp objects without supervision?”

“He wanted to surprise his boyfriend but, if you want my opinion, Jin’s lucky he wasn’t able to finish that monstrosity of a meal.”

You chuckled. “Well, Namjoon isn’t the only person who prepared a surprise for their boyfriend,” you smirked, amused with his curious expression.

“Oh yeah? What did my beautiful girlfriend prepare for me?”

“Well, if I told you now it wouldn’t really be a surprise now would it?” You reached over the table and pressed a small kiss on his lips.

Jimin and you hadn’t had sex yet. At first, it didn’t really bother you much because you were not one to rush things and, since Jimin was a little bit shy, you wanted to respect him but now you were starting to second guess yourself. Your inner voice kept whispering you thoughts like: “he doesn’t find you physically attractive” or “he’s cheating on you with other people”, something you admit may come from the trauma of your past relationship. So, with your 1st anniversary coming up you thought that it was now or never. You decided to shoot for the stars and bought an expensive lingerie set in your favourite colour, that you were wearing at that moment.

After your cafe date, you had arranged a little picnic-style dinner at the beach, where you watched the summer sunset together. After that, you went back to your place - since Jenna was out of town and Jimin lived with Namjoon - excused yourself to the bathroom (where you were currently at) and got ready to put your ultimate plane of seduction in action.

You took off your dress so you were just in lingerie, brushed your teeth twice, put some deodorant (just in case) and exited the bathroom, ready to put on a show.

“Hey baby, I poured you a glass of-” the pair of glasses he was holding shattered on your wooden floor, its content spilling all over to the nearest carpet, “-wine.”

You smiled. This was exactly the reaction you wanted, a reaction so good that immediately made you forget about all your doubts and fears - he wanted you.

“You like it? It’s just for you,” you teased as you gave a little twirl so he could fully observe you.

“You look...fuck.”

His jaw was locked, and his eyes scanned you up and down as you slowly started to shorten the distance between the two of you. As soon as you reached him though, he did something completely unexpected.

“Jimin, what are you doing?” You followed him to the kitchen where he had run to pick up napkins.

“We need to clean this up before it ruins your floor, or you hurt yourself,” he rambled on as he went back to the place of the accident. It was almost like he was trying to avoid you.

“Jimin,” you slouched down and grabbed the hand that was picking up the broken pieces of glass, making him stand up again, “I don’t give a fuck about the glass. I just want to have you.”

You placed your hands on his chubby cheeks and softly kissed him.

At first, it took him a while to relax and give in, but as soon as he started to kiss you back the intensity of the kiss immediately changed.

You guided him to your bedroom without ever breaking the kiss. While your hands were busy tugging at his brown locks his own were hoisting up your skirt so they could grab your ass.

“Take your shirt off,” you said after he threw you on the bed.

Your loins were on fire, they were burning for him, aching even. You had seen him shirtless before but this time you felt like you almost couldn’t control yourself. Your eyes examined his delicious chocolate abs and wondered what it would be like to kiss and lick them and to keep on going until you reached his cock.

You wanted to please him so badly, you wanted to hear him moan your name, you wanted to watch him come undone, you wanted to watch his facial features contort in pleasure because of you, you wanted it all.

He got on top of you and you both started making out once again.

“I want you so badly Jimin,” you said as you flipped your positions and got on top of him. He didn’t answer, but you could tell by the tiny moan that escaped his mouth and the way that he squeezed your thigh that he was excited.

First, you started to kiss his neck and then you made your way to his abs, running your tongue through the defined muscles. Your hands started working on the button of his jeans and you could feel him tense up. You thought it was probably just from the excitement or something, but as soon as your mouth started to descend towards his nether region he suddenly pushed you off and got up.

“Is everything alright?” You asked out of worry, being scared that you had crossed some sort of line for him.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I- I need to go,” he buttoned up his pants and put his shirt back on.

“Jimin, did I do something wrong?” Suddenly, your whole world dropped and all your insecurities came flushing back in at once, tears starting to build up in your eyes.

“No, it’s just...fuck, I need to leave,” he turned away from you, put his shoes back on and left, leaving you a heartbroken mess on your bed.

“Honey I’m hoooome!” Your roommate Jenna yelled as she returned home from her week-long vacation in her hometown.

Her loud voice woke you up, but it wasn’t like you were having a nice sound sleep; nightmares, as well as crippling thoughts of the man you loved cheating on you, had plagued you for the past week.

“What are you still doing sleeping at noon and why aren’t you coming out to great your roomy?” You heard her enter your room but remained immobile under the cocoon your sheet provided.

“Get out of bed you lazy ass!” Jenna dragged the sheet that was hiding you all the way back and exposed you to the sunlight coming from your previously shut blinds.

“Jennaaaaaa,” you whined while trying to reach for the sheet, but she had pulled it way too far.

“Y/N, it stinks and you look like shit! What the fuck happened while I was away?”

“Nothing,” you lied.

“What did Jimin do?”

“How did you know?”

Sometimes you were amazed at how well Jenna knew you but that’s what 3 years of living together can do for you.

“Because I left you alone in the house on your anniversary with Jimin and instead of smelling like sex it smells like death,” she pointed out, matter-of-factly with her arms crossed over her chest.

You sighed, burying your face back on your pillow.

“Y/N, what happened?” Jenna sat on the bed right next to you and pet your unwashed hair in a comforting gesture.

“I think Jimin is cheating on me.”

“Jimin?” You hummed. “The Park Jimin?” You hummed once more. “Y/N, I don’t believe Jimin would ever do that to you. First, because he’s not the cheating type, and second, because he loves you, like a lot. Like, I get diabetes just by the sweet way in which he looks at you-”

“We’ve never had sex,” you interrupted her train of thought as you finally lifted up your head from your pillow to look at her.

“What? Never?”

“Nope,” you popped your last syllable to give emphasis.

“Okay but, that doesn’t really mean anything. You know Jimin can be a little shy at times. Maybe-”

“I thought that too,” you interrupted her once more, “and because of that, I decided that, on the night of our anniversary, I would be the one to initiate it. So, after a lovely time on our date I brought him back here, excused myself to the bathroom and came back out wearing a lingerie set so hot he dropped the fucking wine glass on the floor. You should have seen the way he was looking at me, he totally wanted it. Then, after a heated make-out session, he suddenly stops everything and leaves.”

“What? Oh no...and you guys haven’t spoken since?”

“No. He tried calling, but I ignored him.”

“Y/N…”

“I know what you’re going to say, that I need to be a grown-up and talk it through, but what if he’s going to tell me that he doesn’t want to be with me anymore? What if he tells me that he’s gonna leave me for another one? Or that maybe he’s into dudes now.”

“Jimin is not your stinking ex,” Jenna pointed out. She had never really liked your ex-boyfriend.

“I know, but still…”

“Okay, I’ve heard enough! You are gonna get up, take a shower, because you fucking stink, and then, after we have lunch, we’re going to Jimin’s soccer game with the guys and you’re gonna talk to him there, am I clear?!”

“Yes, mom…”

“Aish these kids…” you heard her say as you made your way to the bathroom.

When both you and Jenna arrived at the game, the second half had already started. There weren’t many people there - since it was purely an amateur game between friends - and since you didn’t want him to see you just yet, you and Jenna just stood behind a tree, enjoying the shade it provided.

Usually, your boyfriend was the best player, scoring numerous goals that led his team to victory, but today it looked like he wasn’t even there; he’d missed almost all of his passes, accidentally scored an own goal and almost got himself kicked out of the game.

“I’ll be in the car waiting,” your friend told you as soon as the referee whistled to end the game, “take your time.”

“Thanks, Jenna.”

You gave her a small hug of gratitude and waited till everyone was in the locker room so you could wait outside for Jimin. What you weren’t expecting though, was to be able to listen to every little thing the boys were saying inside.

“What’s up with you today Jimin? If it wasn’t for Jungkook we could’ve had a way more embarrassing result than losing 3-2!” You recognized the voice of his roommate Namjoon - he clearly wasn’t happy.

“It’s nothing,” Jimin’s voice was so low that if he wasn’t right next to the window that was also next to you, you wouldn’t be able to hear his response.

“Did you finally have sex with Y/N?” A voice you recognized as his friend Hoseok asked, putting you in a state of hyperawareness. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, you could feel your blood pumping at a rapid pace and you could feel your hands shaking from the nerves. Whatever happened next, you would know the whole truth about you and Jimin. His answer would reveal everything. For sure if he was banging another girl his friends would know. Aren’t guys known for spilling out everything in the locker room?

His answer never came though.

“So that’s why you’re such a mess today. Did she react badly to the size of your dick and ran away?” Hoseok’s voice sounded again.

You were beyond shocked. Wherever you thought their conversation was going, you were clearly wrong. Never in a million years would you imagine that the reason Jimin acted the way he did was because of his insecurities.

“No...fuck. I-I was the one who ran away.”

“Shit man,” Hoseok answered, his voice getting closer to where you were standing, probably coming closer to comfort Jimin.

“Now she’s not answering my texts or calls, I’m scared I screwed it up forever,” he sighed.

“Jimin, just talk to her. Y/N loves you, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Namjoon reasoned.

“And what if she doesn’t want to be with me because I can’t please her like a normal guy?”

You turned around and left for the car, not being able to hear more.

Of all the times you had imagined the reasons why you hadn’t had sex yet, never once had crossed your mind that that reason was the size of his penis. Of all the times you felt insecure about yourself, never once had crossed your mind that the man you loved was the one feeling insecure. For all of that, you felt like a piece of shit; for pressuring him, for doubting him, for everything.

You wanted to tell him then and there that you loved him more than anything and that you didn’t care about the size of his penis, but most of all, you wanted to tell him that you were sorry for pressuring him.

That same night you wanted to surprise Jimin and apologize to him. So, after texting his roommate explaining everything that had happened that afternoon and asking if you could come by, he promptly told you that he’d gladly go on a date with his boyfriend to leave you two alone. Thus, when dinner time came and Namjoon left, you picked up a couple of pizzas, a bottle of wine, and went to Jimin’s place.

You knocked on his door and at first, he didn’t answer, but after insisting once more he finally opened the door.

“Namjoon I swear I’m gonna nail the keys to your hands- Y/N.” The way in which Jimin was looking at you right now reminded you so much of a lost puppy that you just wanted to drop everything and hug him tight.

“I thought we should talk. I brought pizza and wine.” Jimin stood in front of you with his mouth agape, not saying anything. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” He stepped aside to let you through and you walked to the kitchen to place the pizzas and the wine on the table.

“Namjoon just left-”

“I know, he offered to once I told him I was coming,” you put the food on the table and turned to him.

“Y/N... I’m so sorry I left the other day. It’s nothing to do with you, I love you. It’s just…”

“Jimin, I know.” You grabbed his hand to comfort him.

“Y-you know?”

He looked so adorable when he was confused. You looked at the way he wide opened his eyes and you just melted inside.

“I went to see you play today and, at the end of the game, I waited for you outside the locker room so we could talk and I heard everything you guys said.”

“You heard? So, you know? Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to hurt you it was just-” You kissed him.

“Jimin, I don’t care that you have a small penis. You could have a wind chime for a penis and I wouldn’t mind, you know why? Because I love you with all my heart.” You placed your hands on his chubby cheeks in a tender gesture and ran your thumbs over his skin.

“I’m so sorry I put that kind of pressure on you. I should’ve known that you weren’t feeling it and-”

“Wasn’t feeling it? Fuck Y/N, do you know how much I wanted you at that moment? Do you know that you almost ended me when you came out of the bathroom looking like that? Trust me when I say that leaving you that night was hard as fuck and also, something I’ve regretted ever since.”

After soulfully looking into each other's eyes you embraced one another. You nuzzled your head in his neck and just stood there smelling his Hugo Boss perfume. The hug was a healing one, like all that you’ve been through for the past week had just been erased by his strong arms.

Jimin pulled back from the hug so his lips could meet yours, passion flowing right through you. The kiss quickly got more heated as his hands started wandering all over your body, making the temperature rise.

“Baby,” you pulled away and looked right at his glazed eyes, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-”

“I want to.” He placed a soft kiss on your lips and led you to his bedroom where he started to remove his t-shirt, showing you his glorious abs.

Not wanting him to feel left out, and to give him some type of security, you also started to remove your shirt, following it up with the rest of your outfit until you were completely naked on his bed.

“I am so lucky,” he stated as he observed your naked body on his bed.

His half-naked body soon was on top of yours, his mouth worshipping your skin with sweet and tender kisses. He started at the neck, moved through your chest (teasing your nipple a little bit with his tongue), down your stomach and straight to your dripping centre.

“You’re so beautiful,” his eyes were fixated on yours as he licked your pussy, paying special attention to your small nub.

This was the first time Jimin was eating you out, the two of you only having gone to second base. From all the times you envisioned his head between your legs you had to admit you only imagined the best; Jimin was by far the best kisser you’ve had, not only because of those luscious lips of his but also because he had a very skilful tongue that he knew how to use in just the right amount. So, to say that he exceeded your expectations was putting it lightly. He was fucking knocking your metaphorical socks off.

“Fuck Jimin, just like that.” The way his wet tongue was circling your clit made you grab a handful of his dark brown locks so he could get even closer to you.

You were getting in such a euphoric state that you almost felt like something was taking over you; especially when he inserted a finger inside you. One minute you were biting your lip as hard as you could, the other you were almost pulling out his bedspread and in the next you were massaging your breasts to enhance your pleasure; an act that, in tandem, made you cum on your boyfriend’s mouth as you screamed his name.

“You were so good at that baby,” he climbed back up on top of you and you pulled him in for a quick kiss, the taste of your juices being all over his lips, “that was the best oral sex I’ve ever had.”

“Well, you know. I needed to get good at that since, you know…”

Your heart completely dropped, not thinking about the possible implications of your words. You felt so bad for him, you wish you could make all of this go away for him.

“Baby, don’t say that,” you placed your hand on his cheek, “size doesn’t really matter. What matters is the love we feel for each other and I love you so much.” You two kissed once more demonstrating your love for one another.

“Do you trust me?” You gently asked him.

“I do, with all my heart.”

You switched places with him, this time you being the one on top, and gently pulled his sweatpants down. Then, you looked at him once more, waiting for his approval, and once he gave you a nod you pulled down his black underwear revealing his hard dick.

It wasn’t that bad. You honestly were picturing something way smaller than what was in front of you - something more like a finger - but as you looked at it and saw that it still had a good girth you were kind of relieved.

You looked at him, saw his concerned look, gave him a smile, grabbed his penis and gave it a gentle kiss. Jimin whimpered at the contact and you teased him further by giving it a series of licks.

“Please baby, don’t tease me, it’s...been a while.”

“I’m sorry,” you weren’t also in the mood for games, but you just couldn’t resist teasing him a bit. “Do you have a condom?”

“Here,” he moved to reach the top drawer of his bedside table and removed a pack of condoms. He opened the box, ripped out one of the foils and handed it to you.

You put his cock in your mouth, giving it a couple of sucks, for a last bit of teasing and rolled the condom on his dick. You then moved so your core would be right on top of his length and rubbed his tip back and forth through your folds before sliding it right inside of you.

“Hmm,” you both moaned in unison.

His dick felt different than the others you had experienced. It didn’t fill you to the brim, but it still felt good. Maybe to other girls, it wouldn’t be ideal, but to you, it was more than enough.

The way you two were making love to each other, the sweet kisses, the intense stares, the moaning of each other’s names, everything was more than perfect and you could honestly say you never felt more connected to a person in your entire life. It didn’t even matter to you the number of times he slipped off of you during sex, it just mattered that you were with him.

Jimin was near his climax and you could tell he was trying to hold it in as much as possible because you were still a bit far from it. But, out of nowhere, Jimin started rubbing your clit, giving you the edge you needed to finally come undone and make him release inside of you.

You remained in each other’s arms for a while, just panting and enjoying each other’s embrace, until Jimin pulled himself out of you and went to the bathroom to discard his condom. When he returned and lay right next to you, you couldn’t help but notice the nervous look on his face.

“Baby, it was fine,” you assured him.

“Yeah, but it kept falling out and I had to help you get there.”

“So?” You popped yourself on your elbow to get a better look of his face. “It matters way more to me that you did everything in your power to make me cum than if I could cum by your dick alone. Trust me, most women can’t even cum with sex alone.”

“So...it was good?” His puppy dog eyes were seriously killing you inside.

“Yes,” you kissed his lips as he started smiling, relief washing over his face, “it was good.”

“I love you so much,” he professed his love to you and you could say that it was making your heart explode.

“I love you too,” now he was the one kissing you and you wished for nothing more than to get lost in his lips for the whole day but the sound of your stomach growling made you come back to reality.

“Somebody’s hungry,” he booped your nose in an adorable gesture, “how about we leave this bed and go devour those pizzas?”

“Way ahead of you.”

a/n: I was inspired to do this fic due to the amounts of “huge dick” fics out there. Don’t get me wrong, I love huge dicks lmao, but I feel like it’s healthy to, once in a while, bring a small peen to the equation (or maybe even a freaking normal size). Girls and boys, don’t expect everyone to have huge dicks, it’s ok if they don’t <3

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abarbaricyalp · 4 years ago

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@sambuckylibrary

SamBucky Halloween Prompt 1: Urban Legends

High School AU, spooky ghost stories and dead girl’s revenge

Rated G: mild cursing (AO3 link in the notes)

Haunt me, baby, one more time

“Legend says that every 17 years, the body of Lyla Ray comes back from the dead, looking for her next victim,” Sam whispered severely. Bucky’s attention was rapt on him, unblinking and fully engaged. “She preys on beautiful young men, the kind that killed her all those years ago. And she cuts their hearts out to eat it.”

“That’s a little on the nose,” Bucky breathed back, but his gaze didn’t waver. The bottom of Sam’s truck bed was starting to get uncomfortable, even with all the blankets he and Bucky had piled into it and Louisiana was hot on October 28th, so the blanket thrown over their heads--turning them into one lopsided ghost to anyone who happened to drive by and look--was getting unbearable.

“Do you want to go see where her body is?” Sam asked.

“I thought you couldn't bury people so close to the coast.”

“She’s buried,” Sam assured. “So far down underground so that maybe she won’t dig her way out.”

Bucky shivered involuntarily and Sam grinned. “How long ago was her last supposed appearance?” he asked.

“A year after we were born.”

Bucky let out a breath of realization. “I see. So she’s supposed to come back tonight,” he said.

“Exactly. If we hurry, we can see her come up.”

“Why would you want to?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted the full Louisiana experience while you were stuck down here?”

“Did I say stuck?” Bucky asked, reaching over to cup Sam’s cheek before pulling him into a slow kiss. “I’m sure I didn’t mean stuck.”

Sam grinned against his mouth, a little thankful for the blanket over them since they were parked just off the road. Then again, Halloween always made him feel invincible, so he probably would’ve let Bucky kiss him with or without the blanket.

He let Bucky distract him up until Bucky tried to lay him out over the blankets--later, definitely later--at which point he pushed him back. “Come on, you have to come with me,” he said, pulling on Bucky’s hands.

Bucky sighed like it was the last thing he wanted to do. Maybe it was. Bucky was the biggest skeptic Sam had ever met. Most kids new to the state were wide eyed and excited about the hundred billion ghost stories that permeated every street and building. Not Bucky Barnes though. He couldn’t be tasked to believe in any story about any monster or ghost or legend. Nothing phased him. Not any of the ghost tours Sam had dragged him to, not the haunted houses that had crept up in the weeks leading to Halloween, not the voodoo or tarot shops that always sent a thrill of excitement down Sam’s spine. Bucky just didn’t buy any of it, which made him even more enchanting to Sam’s stupid heart. Opposites attract and all that.

Bucky stood up, knocking the blanket away, and hauled Sam with him before climbing over the edge of the truck and waiting for Sam to do the same. By design, they were already pretty near the cemetery and it was getting dark, so Sam let his fingers graze over the back of Bucky’s hand until Bucky tangled them together.

“Y’know,” Sam said after a few steps, “you’re just like a Layla Ray victim.”

“Am I?” Bucky amused. “How do you reckon?”

“Oh come on. You’re a total pretty boy. Total heartbreaker.”

“Samuel Thomas, have I broken your heart?” Bucky asked in mock affront.

The thought of this thing between them maybe not being permanent broke Sam’s heart every damn day, actually. And Bucky being adamant about going back to New York for college was devastating too. “Not me. But I know you got a string behind you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and knocked their hands against Sam’s thigh softly. “You’re terrible to me. You’re like her victims. You’re breakin’ my heart right now as we speak. And with eyes like that? A mouth like that? Total pretty boy too.”

Sam laughed and leaned into Bucky’s side. “Now you’re just flattering.”

“Nah, it’s true. I’ve heard the girls at school talk about you. All of Sarah’s friends are obsessed with you. Becca thinks you’re the cutest.”

“They’re freshmen. They hardly have taste yet. Sarah’s friends are just happy I pay attention to them in the hallways.”

“Well, Sarah’s friends like you a lot more than Becca’s friends have ever liked me,” Bucky said. “Which has to count for something.”

“Nah, ‘cause you’re an asshole. I totally get where those girls are coming from.”

Bucky glanced down the street before hauling Sam into a kiss that sent Sam’s head spinning through the dark night. “You think assholes can kiss like that, Wilson?”

Sam still couldn’t think but he nodded anyway because being contrary to Bucky was second nature.

Bucky snorted and let go of Sam’s waist. “Then I’m an asshole who likes you a whole lot. Even if you’re, like, super mean to me all the time.”

“You like it,” Sam said and hurried to catch back up to Bucky. “Here, it’s just up ahead.”

“Yeah, I might’ve missed the gate,” Bucky agreed sarcastically.

“We can be a little extravagant,” Sam said, looking up at the metal monstrosity, a remnant of the past, holding all the secrets of the past too. “Gotta keep the ghosts inside, y’know.”

“From what I hear, you’re not very good at that part.”

Maybe not. “Layla Ray isn’t a ghost, she’s a Revenant.”

“She’s a bear?” Bucky asked, just to be obtuse.

“You’re such an asshole,” Sam repeated and pulled him into the cemetery. “She’s buried towards the back, ‘cause she’s so old, y’know. And so that maybe she’ll be confused while she’s trying to get out.”

“Wait a second, this girl has been eating hearts for centuries now and she’s been buried underground for most of the time this cemetery’s been around to keep her buried, but actually it’s not working since she’s been wandering around?”

“That’s not the point,” Sam said, waving his hand in the air. “The point is the story.”

“I get the story. I’m just saying, stick to a reason why she’s buried instead of cremated or something.”

“She’s buried because that’s how the story works.”

“You know, she ought to come after you, usin’ her name and tragic end to scare new kids at your school.”

“We used to come out here all the time when we were kids,” Sam said. “The worst trouble I ever got in was when I brought Sarah with me once and dragged a stick down her arm while she was looking at the gravestone.”

Bucky snorted. “And I’m the asshole.”

“I’ve been waiting for seventeen years for this. Just let me have this one night.”

“If this is a once in seventeen years event, why ain’t no one else out here?” Bucky asked.

“I dunno, guess you grow out of it,” Sam said with a shrug. “Or maybe no one wants to risk being the guy who gets his heart eaten.”

“Right. Or you just made this up to get me out here all alone. Maybe you’re actually the ghost.”

“Am I that unbelievable?” Sam teased. He leaned up and stole another kiss before weaving Bucky to the back of the cemetery. He made sure to avoid walking over any plots that happened to be in the ground, though there weren’t many. Finally, nearer to the back fence, they came to a stop in front of a gravestone that read Layla George Ray 1796-1813 Beloved Daughter.

“I hate looking at tombstones for people our age,” Bucky said, reaching out to run his fingers over the lettering of Layla’s name.

“That’s almost touching, Barnes,” Sam said.

Bucky crouched down to run his hand over the even, cut grass that adorned the top of the grave. “No fresh dirt. Guess your revenant isn’t so hungry tonight,” he said, tossing a grin over his shoulder. “Even with two eligible guys standing around.”

Suddenly a woman’s scream pierced through the night and Bucky sprawled back on his ass, scrambling away without ever being able to get his feet under him.

Sam wrapped an arm around his shoulders when they finally collided and then sank down himself, cackling so hard he could barely breathe.

“Oh my God, Barnes,” he gasped. “Your face!”

“Sam!” Bucky cried. “Didn’t you fucking hear that? What was that?”

Sam fell onto his back, clutching at his ribs, knees bent up to his chest. It didn’t help retain any air, but it happened anyway. “Jesus, look at you,” he wheezed and buried his face in his own arm. “You really thought--” He wheezed some more and real tears slipped out from his eyes.

“What?” Bucky asked, still panting, still ready to bolt, but now more confused than terrified. “What are you talking about?”

Sam uncurled himself and held out his phone. The scream pierced through the air again and cut off abruptly when Sam silenced it. “You thought-- You really thought a dead girl was coming out of her grave to eat your heart.”

“You’re a fucking bastard,” Bucky snapped, finally catching up to what Sam had done. He sat back heavily on the ground and Sam broke out in new laughter.

“Your face, Barnes! You were so fucking scared.”

“I thought someone was dying, Wilson.”

“You thought someone was coming back from the dead,” Sam corrected.

“I hate you. I hope you do get haunted.”

“You can’t hope for what you don’t believe in,” Sam pointed out.

“I can hope for what you believe in. And I hope all sorts of creepy shit haunts your ass for years. I hope you don’t sleep for ages.”

“Oh come on,” Sam said with a smug smirk. “You don’t mean that. You love cuddling with me when you think I’m asleep.”

Bucky glared balefully at him. “Cuddling with you when you’re awake is just as fine by me.”

“Besides, if I get haunted, that ghostie’s gonna be all up in your business too,” he pointed out. Finally, he pushed himself to his feet and offered his hand down to Bucky. “Come on, baby. I’ll make it up to you.”

Bucky followed the long line of his arm up to Sam’s face before reaching for his hand and standing as well. “That a promise, Wilson?”

“Well, those blankets weren’t just for story time, y’know.”

“I like the sound of that. Keep on talking.” Bucky closed his fingers around Sam’s and Sam took it as the reconciliation it was. Together, they started for the front gate again.

Behind them, others talked too.

#sambuckyhalloween2021 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fanfic #sambucky fanfiction #captain america #winter soldier #the falcon #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #bingo

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