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lipstickstainz · 5 years ago

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touches - s.r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: Spencer doesn’t like to be touched. But what happens, when he gets comfortable around you? Warnings: fluff, Spencer being cute, getting shot but nothing too explicit and oh, and a bucket full of angst Word Count: 4,4k A/N: hello friends. I have a part two of this in my drafts if you like! I hope you enjoy. gif not mine.

You had heard a lot about the BAU team before joining them.

About the cases, the trust, the bond. It had always been something that had fascinated you. You had experienced some things with your previous team as well, but the BAU was in a whole different league.

Before you had been moved there, you had already familiarized yourself with the teammates. You didn't want to come unprepared to a team that knew each other inside and out. Also, you were a person who put your foot in your mouth quickly.

You were most impressed by Doctor Spencer Reid. You had heard the most about him. He was a genius, with an IQ of 187 and he could read 20,000 words a minute. Not to mention his eidetic memory. You had even read his doctoral dissertations. While you didn't understand everything, they were incredibly interesting and gave you a little insight into the mind of the spectacular Doctor Spencer Reid.

When you first met, you concentrated on not reaching out to him. You merely raised your hand to greet him, which he returned with a smile, and although he tried to hide it, you knew that this small gesture meant a lot to him.

While the other team members put their hand on his shoulder or ruffled his hair, you were almost tensely careful not to touch him. If he should want to, he would make the first move.

It happened some time later, as you stood side by side in the office kitchen. While Spencer poured himself a coffee, you poured hot water into your teacup. You asked him for the sugar that was next to him, and instead of sliding it over to you as you had been doing, he held the dispenser out to you. You reached for it and when your fingers brushed his, it went through you like an electric shock. You suddenly felt warm and your heart beat faster, but Spencer didn't seem to notice. He smiled at you before walking back to his seat. You looked after him.

After that incident, you were both a little more relaxed. While you didn't push it, Spencer didn't seem to mind you handing him files or touching each other briefly when you sat next to each other. After an incident on the plane, even the team noticed.

Spencer was on his way to the trash can when you got up to sit with Emily and Hotch to discuss the current case. You squeezed past each other as the plane made an unexpected swerve. You tried to grab onto the seat next to you, but the sway was too sudden. Before you could fall, Spencer grabbed your arm with one hand and your hip with the other and held you tight. He pulled you straight toward him so you wouldn't land face down on the ground. Even when the plane was back on course, he didn't let go. As you tried to regain control of your irregular breathing from the shock, Spencer looked at you closely. You felt his gaze on you, almost burning into your forehead, but neither said a word. As you broke away from each other and each sat down in your seat, you noticed his gaze still on you. When you looked up, he looked away.

Next came your birthday. Even though you didn't want to celebrate and your real plan was to have food delivered and watch your favorite movie for the hundredth time, the team dragged you to a bar. "Pathetic," Derek had called the plan, and you had punched him affectionately in the shoulder, but by the time he put the first drink in your hand, you had all but forgotten his comment. While some of you sat at a table and the rest enjoyed themselves on the dance floor, you sat at the bar. You did love your team, but on your birthday you didn't want to hear about any cases outside of work. Which couldn't be avoided when you were around each other 24/7.

You sipped your drink, secretly cursing Derek for having so much alcohol in it. You scrunched your nose.

"Did you know that alcohol tastes different when you drink it with a straw?" Spencer asked, sitting down in the empty chair next to you. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "When we ingest something, the aroma molecules go up our nose and we can tell from the start whether it's going to taste good or not. Also, the nose detects different flavors than the tongue. So if you drink the drink with the straw so the glass is farther away from your nose, you'll perceive the taste of the drink differently than it is." Even in the dim light of the bar, you could see how red he was getting. When you didn't answer, he laughed nervously and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I was rambling again."

You took another sip of your drink. "Don't apologize, Spencer. I like that you're so smart. And I like that you're comfortable enough to want to share your knowledge with me," you smiled gently at him. He returned your smile.

"I appreciate you not reaching out to me then, by the way," he confessed, nibbling on the label of his beer bottle. "I don't like shaking hands with strangers, and it makes me uncomfortable when I'm expected to but I don't. So, thanks for that."

"It's okay," you said, but he let go of his bottle and turned to you completely.

"You never pushed me to do this. You waited for me to make the first move on this because it means more to me than it does to you. There aren't many who are that respectful and understanding." He got up from his chair, but left the beer bottle on the counter. He held out his arms. "I haven't wished you a happy birthday yet because I didn't want to do it in front of the team. They'd make a big deal out of it." He gestured for you to give him a hug. He actually wanted to hug you.

"Spencer, you don't have to do this," you said, but before you knew it, he had grabbed your hand and pulled you off the chair, right into his arms.

You had often imagined what a hug from Spencer would be like, especially when you saw him hug JJ or Emily after a hard case. But you had imagined it differently.

He had his arms wrapped around your waist and held you so close that you almost couldn't breathe. You felt his long fingers on your skin, despite your T-shirt and you felt his warm breath on your neck and his curls on your temple. Goosebumps spread over your body and you prayed he didn't notice. "Happy birthday," he whispered in your ear and before you knew it, he placed his lips on your cheek before pulling away from you. Smiling, he reached for his beer and sauntered back over to the table, leaving you standing at the bar. With a pounding heart and fire in your veins. And in that moment, you just thought that work colleagues, or even maybe friends, shouldn't feel that way about each other.

After your birthday, it was no longer an issue for Spencer. Under the table, he'd nudge you with his knee if you weren't paying attention for a second, or he'd put his hand on your shoulder when he looked over you at the computer screen. He also didn't mind if you were so exhausted from a case that you fell asleep by his side on the plane, with your head on his shoulder. You didn't realize it, but JJ had pointed out that Spencer always pulled you a little closer then, resting his cheek against the top of your head. For him, the constant touching was no longer an issue.

For you, it was. Every time his skin brushed yours, you felt warm and your heart skipped a beat. Whether it was at dinner, at a briefing, or just walking by. But it was bearable.

It got bad when he touched you longer. On particularly hard cases, he had taken to looking under the table for your hand and squeezing it twice. It was a gesture of friendship and care. If you held each other, nothing could happen to you. On the plane, you always sat next to each other, playing cards or absorbed in your own thoughts. Spencer, however, got into the habit of putting your legs over one of his if you had to fly for a particularly long time. At first, the team gave you strange looks, which made you uncomfortable, but didn't bother Spencer in the least. So you tried not to let on, which was pretty difficult when you were surrounded by profilers. Flames blazed in your veins at those touches, heat tingled under your skin where he touched you, and when he pulled you into his arms on certain occasions, you almost felt dizzy.

This is not how you should feel about your best friend.

"Thales, Miletus, here's your key," Hotch said, tossing Spencer the room key as the team checked into the hotel. He'd resisted at first the nickname Garcia had picked out for you - classically, after the discoverer of magnetism - but since everyone was using it, even the earnest Hotch had given up on it. "Prentiss, JJ, your room is right next to ours." The two women nodded and the four of them walked down the corridor while Derek was kind enough to take the girls' bags.

You couldn't look after them for long, because Spencer had already grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers. "Come on. Our room is waiting."

You had never shared a room. You'd either always had your own, or shared one with Emily or JJ, but never with Spencer. You wouldn't mind so much if you weren't into him. Hopefully there were two beds. On opposite walls. Far away from each other.

When Spencer unlocked the door and you entered, you wanted to sink into the floor. Double bed. One blanket. You tried to mentally prepare yourself for the stay by setting your bag down on a chair and stopping in the middle of the room while your best friend inspected it. He didn't seem to notice that you had only one bed and, more importantly, only one blanket. At least, it didn't bother him.

When you returned to the room that evening, you went straight to the bathroom and took a shower. The water was as cold as you could stand it. It was supposed to cool you down and prepare you for the night. It wasn't every day that you shared a bed with your crush. After combing your hair and changing, you slipped under the covers and tried to fall asleep as quickly as possible so you wouldn't notice Spencer's presence next to you when he came out of the bathroom.

Your thoughts cheated on you. What if you snuggled up to each other in your sleep at night? Or you would unconsciously snuggle up to him, but he didn't want you to? Then you'd have to get another room tomorrow. And it would get so awkward that you wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Spencer finally as he climbed into bed next to you. Immediately, you felt his warmth. He hadn't taken a cold shower, apparently.

"It's always hard when kids are involved," you answered truthfully. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't what was floating around in your mind either.

"Come here," he said, opening his arms. Hesitantly, you slid closer to him so there was still space between you, but it didn't seem close enough for Spencer. After he turned out the light, he pulled you close enough for you to rest your head on his shoulder and with his free hand, he reached for yours and intertwined your fingers again. Your heart stopped. "We can do this, Y/N. We've done it all so far." You heard his heartbeat beneath you, felt his breath on your hair, and the warmth of his body burned into your skin. "Try to get some sleep. We'll know more tomorrow," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you fell asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, you felt Spencer behind you. His chest was pressed against your back, his arm was wrapped tightly around your middle, and he had his face buried in your neck. Immediately goosebumps spread all over your body. You tried to pull away from him a little, but he pulled you even closer. Spencer was still asleep, so he didn't notice how he carefully slid his hand under your shirt and how his long fingers danced over your soft skin. You held your breath, afraid to move or give away your racing heartbeat. At one point he pulled his arm back and turned onto his back before lifting his hand and rubbing his eyes. His hair stood out in all directions and he smiled sleepily. You were getting hot.

"Good morning, Y/N." Good morning indeed.

The case took longer than planned, though of course you can't plan a case. After the third night, you had gotten used to sleeping next to Spencer, but the cuddling worried you. The longer you shared that room, the more complicated your feelings became. It was almost unbearable.

Derek, Emily, Spencer and you found the unsub in a remote car yard. While the latter surveyed the building, Derek and you looked around the yard.

"What's going on between you and Reid, anyway?" he asked curiously. You gave him a meaningful look, but he didn't care. "It's come to all of our attention. You guys are inseparable, he has to touch you all the time, and those looks."

"What looks?" you probed, trying to sound as unsuspecting as possible. This time Derek was looking at you. So he had noticed. And if Derek knew, so did the others. Fucking profilers.

"Y/N," he started, and stopped. When you turned to him, he twisted his mouth into a weak smile. It was a very different Derek who stood before you. Not the go-getter who sometimes made fun of Spencer. He seemed genuinely worried, and that made you nervous. "Friends don't look at friends that way."

A loud bang rang through the air and the conversation was all but forgotten. You took cover and communicated via hand signals. Quietly, you moved forward. It wasn't long before you saw a figure running away behind the cars. "We got him," Derek said into the mic, and together you dashed toward the unsub. He ran toward the woods and disappeared. Derek looked at you and nodded. You split up.

Gun drawn, you ran forward. Leaves crunched beneath you, but you tuned that out. You focused on the birds above you, the shadows of the trees, and the gun in your hand. He had to be here somewhere.

You didn't even startle when you felt cold metal against the back of your head. "Don‘t. Move." You took your fingers off the trigger and raised your arms. "Put the gun down. Vest off." Slowly, you bent down and placed both on the ground. The only thing you could think about was that you would hopefully find them later. "Walk.“ With your hands clasped behind your head, you took one step at a time. Derek was nowhere to be seen. You wished you hadn't split up.

He led you to a rundown cabin in the woods that wasn't marked on any map, which is why you couldn't have known about it. He pushed you inside and closed the door behind him, his gun still pointed at you. "If you had wanted to kill me, you would have done it long ago," you gave out, but he didn't go for it. It was a game of fire. You knew the file and what he was capable of.

It was only a few moments before someone kicked open the door and Derek stormed into the cabin, closely followed by Spencer. "Put the gun down and keep your hands off," Derek yelled. Up until then, you hadn't realized that the he had pulled you close and was holding the barrel of his gun right to your temple You only had eyes for Spencer, who was deliberately not looking at you.

You tried to get his attention, but he wouldn't budge. You raised a hand and moved it toward your shoulder, hoping Spencer understood your message. But he wasn't looking at you.

Look at me, Spencer. Come on. Look. At. Me.

His eyes moved from the unsub to your fingers, tapping a spot in your shoulder. You repeated this until he finally looked you in the eye. Then he shook his head, barely perceptibly. Again you tapped the spot. If Spencer shot through your shoulder, he would hit the perpetrator in the torso, and even if the bullet slowed down through you, it would still do enough damage. And you were willing to take the risk.

But Spencer didn't shoot. And time was running out for you. "I trust you," you said, no sound escaping your lips. He gritted his teeth. "I trust you, Spencer. Do it."

And then he shot.

"Welcome back, sunshine," Derek grinned, wrapping you in his muscular arms as you entered the office. "We've all missed you."

It had been three months since you had been shot in the field. Spencer had shot you through the shoulder as planned, and you were right. The perpetrator was shot and the rest of the victims were found. So it was almost a happy ending.

Almost. Of course, you had to listen to a few more things from Hotch on the way to the hospital. You were tired of living and he was disappointed and angry, but incredibly relieved that nothing else had happened to you. You could have been the next victim, too.

"All of you?" you prodded, and Emily, who had joined you, screwed up her face.

"He's not back yet. He extended his vacation," she said, putting a hand on your shoulder. "He's not really over it yet."

You hadn't heard from Spencer since the incident. He hadn't visited you at the hospital, called you or been to your home after you were discharged. You were best friends and the fact that you hadn't seen him in three months hurt more than the gunshot wound. The only person Spencer talked to was JJ, but even she couldn't give you any information.

He probably blamed himself, but why? You had wanted him to shoot. It had been your plan. Besides, he had shot so well that you didn't suffer any permanent damage. He shouldn't worry about it.

It was strange to work a case without him. Not having him near you. Not being able to feel his warmth. You tried to reach him, by phone, by letter, but you got no answer. Even though you hadn't spoken in months, he was your best friend and you were starting to get really worried. He had cut off contact with JJ himself.

When you walked into the office one morning, you were almost breathless. Spencer was standing at his desk, leaning against it, and the others were standing around him. But you had no eyes for them. Spencer was back. Your Spencer was back. As you walked toward them, you got a sinking feeling. He looked good. Changed, but good. His hair was a little shorter and he didn't look as pale as usual. He also seemed more confident and self-assured, which unfortunately made him even more attractive.

He didn't see you until you were almost in front of him. He smiled weakly at you before standing up straight. "Y/N," he said, and it felt so good to hear your name come out of his mouth. Immediately, goosebumps spread across your body. You expected him to give you a hug or insist on talking to you in person, because a lot had happened in the time without him, but he didn't. He turned around briefly and pulled something off his office chair. Not something. Someone. "This is my girlfriend, Vicky."

You didn't know what had happened in the last few months. Did you even want to know? Spencer hadn't contacted you in a long time, only to reappear with a girlfriend? You didn't understand the world anymore. The rest of the team must have felt the same way, because as you stood at your regular table in the bar, the couple was the only topic of conversation. In fact, you would have preferred all the murder cases.

"I'll be honest," Penelope said, taking a big gulp of her drink, which took quite a while since she always drank with a straw, "I was hoping you two would get together." She pointed her finger at you and then toward Spencer, who was standing at the bar with Vicky. You saw her run her finger through his hair and had to look away. Didn't she know he didn't like that?

"Hotch and I even bet money on it," Emily confessed, turning back towards the table. Apparently she didn't want to watch them either. "We would have gotten you a nice wedding present from that."

"He looks happy," you said, but you guessed that's not what the others wanted to hear from you. You sat at a table made up mostly of profilers. They knew exactly how you felt about the whole thing.

"Give it a rest," Derek said, putting his arm around your shoulder. Even the overly positive music in the background couldn't lighten your mood. "We all know how you feel about Spencer. And honestly, we thought he would feel the same way about you."

"But he doesn't, so please let it go," you shot back, instantly regretting it. Your friends weren't to blame for the whole situation. It was you. As you dared another look, Vicky pulled Spencer onto the dance floor, which you knew he didn't like either. Didn't she know him at all?

"I don't know what got into him," JJ confessed, sipping her Coke. "Those two don't even fit together." They didn't, but maybe that's why it worked. There was this theory that opposites attract, but you could never have imagined it with Spencer.

When Vicky grabbed Spencer by the tie and pulled him down so she could kiss him, your heart broke. It was different when you just knew two people were doing something. But when you saw it, all hope was lost. Even from a distance, you could see their tongues and you almost threw up.

"That's my sign," you said, pressing a kiss to Penelope's cheek. "See you." They all said goodbye to you and even over that awful music, you could still hear "It must hurt terribly to see him like that" and "I couldn't do that" as you walked.

Outside, the cold night air surprised you. It hit you in the face like a slap, but nothing hurt as much as knowing Spencer was happy without you. He didn’t need you and he didn't want you. That was fine, but that didn't mean you had to go along with it. Since he'd been back, he'd barely spoken to you. On the plane, he had sat at the other end of the room, and he had actually switched rooms at the hotel just so he wouldn't have to be near you. He'd even started shoving files back at you instead of handing them to you, like he'd burn if he touched you.

The lights in Hotch's office were still on when you came into the office. It was just after midnight and you knew he would still be there. When you knocked on his door, he invited you in. "What can I do for you?" He hadn't even had to ask. He knew why you were there. It was written on your forehead. "Are you sure about this? I'll write a recommendation, but only if you really want me to." You nodded silently. "It's because of him, isn't it?" he asked, his usually hard expression softening.

"Yes," you answered curtly. There was nothing to add.

"I'll make some calls. You get a week to pack. I'll call you tomorrow," he said, getting up from his desk. Surprisingly, he pulled you into his arms. "We're all going to miss you terribly, Y/N. And you're welcome here anytime."

It didn't take long for your things to be packed, and it didn't take long for the others to notice the following day. Your desk was empty, the files had been processed, the pictures of you and the team were gone, and your mug with a picture of Spencer and you on it that he had once given you was gone, too.

"Where is she?" asked Emily Derek, who didn't have an answer ready either. They looked around uncertainly and as the rest entered the bullpen, Hotch came out of his office. He looked like he hadn't slept. He walked down the steps and stood in the circle of confused team members. Even Spencer was puzzled.

"Agent Y/L/N left us last night," he began, sounding very composed. The others didn't know how to respond, so they just gave each other confused looks. "She has asked for a transfer and will start there next week. Please refrain from trying to talk her out of it. The transfer has gone through."

It took everyone by great surprise when Spencer dropped his bag and stormed out of the office. He didn't need to explain where he was going. It was obvious. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tried to call you, but it went straight to voicemail. It wasn't long before he arrived at your complex and shot up the steps to your apartment. He took two steps at a time. He stopped in front of your door and pounded his fist against the wood, hoping you would open the door for him and explain what you were doing. When nothing happened, he dialed the number again. Again and again, until the voice in the phone said to him, this number was no longer in service.

He ran his hand through his hair before sliding down with his back to the door. He put his head between his knees and cursed himself.

You weren't there anymore.

part two

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds one shot #Emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #Jennifer jereau #Matthew gray gubler

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

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If I Fell For You (Part 15) - Trouble In Paradise

Summary: The reader is enjoying settling into her newfound children’s book career and shares how important the bracelet she gave Jensen is to her. A rainy day allows the reader to enjoy her shift into motherhood despite all of the bumps that go with it. But not everything is smooth sailing for the happy couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of past abuse, nightmares, major angst

A/N: Uh oh. Big uh oh. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

Two Weeks Later

“Honey bun,” sang Jensen as he stepped into your home office you’d set up in the small reading room in the house. “Must you work today?”

“I do occasionally have to work on that drawing thing,” you said. He pouted and laid out on the daybed, picking up a copy of the third book. “Give me another hour to finish with these pages.”

“Can I hang out and watch you draw?” he asked.

“Knock your socks off,” you said. You picked up your stylus again and went back to your pad, Jensen sitting up and watching from the other side of the room. “You can sit closer if you want.”

He got up and pulled over a chair, crossing his legs in it.

“I basically draw using my stylus and this pad and it shows up on my laptop screen,” you said.

“We could get you a better screen, like your own separate work computer. I know your stories are picking up a lot of steam.”

“I’m okay for now. All I need to do is finish illustrating this book and my five book deal is done and ready for print,” you said.

“Can I make a request?”

“I would love to put in a giraffe for Zepp but the story takes place in the woods,” you said.

“Baby giraffe? Maybe just in the background?” he asked.

You backed out of your current page and went to the last two where the foxes and wolves were playing with their friends. You tapped on a tree and erased it, sketching out a loose shape.

“Look up a giraffe for me?” you asked. He tapped away on his phone and pulled up a picture. “Thanks.”

You drew a picture of a rough giraffe, softening it some before adding colors.

“You’re really good at that,” he said.

“The characters are easy. Backgrounds can get boring,” you said. You went back to your original set of pages and worked quietly, Jensen watching carefully. “Yes?”

“Just wanna spend time with you is all,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Okay, baby,” you said. You worked for another hour, Jensen asking the occasional question but mostly staying silent and close by. After you sent off the pages for review you turned to him, Jensen offering a soft smile in return. “All set with work for the day.”

“Awesome,” he said.

“Where’s the munchkins?”

“A movie,” he said. You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into it. “Tell me a secret.”

“A secret? I don’t think I have too many of those left from you,” you said. He opened his eyes and looked at you through his lashes. “What?”

“You said you got this on vacation,” he said, holding up his wrist, the bracelet you’d put on him two weeks ago still there. “When we were down there, I was talking to Ray and he kinda implied it wasn’t just a souvenir.”

“I was upset that day when he bought it for me. It meant I was safe was all,” you said.

“How long after did your mom…”

“A few months. She went on bed rest after that trip.”

“Y/N, I know when you’re holding back, honey. I would never judge or tell anyone anything. You know that.”

“You got hurt because you lost someone and you got hurt and it sucks right? But it’s kinda like something happened and then you heal from it right?”

“Yeah…” he said. “What don’t I know?”

“You know how anxious you were to get in the car and drive down to the beach?” you asked as he nodded. “You’ve never been afraid of a person, Jensen. It’s like that feeling...but everyday and you’re expected to live your life normally when you constantly have that over your head.”

He was quiet, glancing past you as the room grew darker from some passing clouds outside.

“Canada wasn’t the first time you saw your father since you were adopted, was it,” he said.

“You wouldn’t believe what a good lawyer and shitty laws will do for a piece of shit like that,” you said.

“You were a kid.”

“With zero physical evidence. Everything was circumstantial. So he got out and he came to apologize or some bullshit and Ray decked him.”

“The more I learn about Ray, the more I like him.”

“My mom kicked him in the nuts.”

“I really like that woman,” he said. You smiled and he moved his chair closer, pulling you into his lap. “I don’t mean to make you talk about your dad. I was curious was all.”

He went to take off the bracelet when you put a hand over it.

“I don’t want to remind you of something bad, sweetheart.”

“Like I said, I was upset. Very upset and in public and I went down to the beach to try to hide away. Ray bought that for me and told me I was safe when he put it on me. All it means to me is that you’re safe.”

“What about you? What do you have?” he asked quietly. You cocked your head and moved your hand to rest over his chest. “Alright, sort of a dumb question.”

“Not dumb,” you said, trailing your fingers down his chest.

“Guess you’ll just have to stay as close as humanly possible.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you said.

“Do you have a restraining order against your father?”

“No but that’s only because Ray managed to get him kicked out of the country. He found some loophole law. He was born in the Yukon so technically he’s not American and he got him kicked back.”

“Scratch that. Ray is my new favorite person,” he said. “If only we could send him someplace we’ll never visit like...a deserted island. Or Hell.”

“I appreciate the thought but I’m not scared of him anymore,” you said. “I am however afraid our plans of lunch at the brewery are going to get rained out.”

“We can enjoy ourselves right here. I’ve never heard a complaint yet about my grilling.”

“You know what? I got the perfect idea.”

“Okay,” said Jensen, sliding the foil packet off the grill and onto JJ’s plate. You’d decided to have lunch on the grill, sitting out under the covered back patio off the playroom. It was pouring rain but you were plenty dry there. “Chicken, marinara sauce and cheese. Then we got chicken, ketchup and baby carrots for Arrow. Zeppy wanted to try barbecue sauce and onion which sounded good to me and then Y/N went for the salmon and lemon.”

You helped the twins open up their foil packets and get their food on their plates, dicing up the chicken for them before going to your own plate.

“Daddy,” said Zeppelin while he chewed on a big piece of chicken. Jensen hummed and worked on his own food. “Can we play race cars after lunch?”

“Sure,” he said, JJ shaking her head.

“I don’t wanna play cars,” she said. Zeppelin stared at her and his bottom lip wobbled. “You’re a cry baby.”

“JJ, that’s rude,” you said, Jensen glancing at you and nodding. “Apologize to your brother.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“We’re gonna play cars after lunch and you’re welcome to join,” said Jensen. “Your brother goes along with what you girls want to play quite a bit so I think you can do the same for him.”

“I still don’t wanna play cars,” she mumbled.

“You play cars with the Padalecki boys all the time,” you said.

“Not little kid cars,” she said. “He doesn’t know how to play right.”

You saw Zeppelin getting upset again and sighed.

“There’s no wrong way to play,” you said. “Zepp’s littler than you. You gotta be the big sister and do what he wants sometimes.”

“Mom would have played dress up,” she grumbled. “Not stupid cars.”

“Enough,” said Jensen. “You’re old enough to know better.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Your brother wants to play cars. We played horses all morning long and you barely let him have a turn at that so like I said, we’re gonna play what he wants and you are welcome to join us but if you don’t want to, you can play something else,” he said.

“Baby,” she said under her breath. Jensen didn’t catch it but you did.

“JJ you’re in timeout after lunch. Ten minutes,” you said.

“I didn’t-”

“You just called him a baby. You want to make it fifteen?” you asked.

“You’re not my mom! You can’t give me timeouts,” she said.

“Half an hour now,” said Jensen. She stared at him and he shook his head. “Eat your lunch.”

Zeppelin spent half of it crying quietly and JJ barely touched hers before she was following Jensen inside. You threw your head back and sighed before you went inside to get some tissues. When you came back out Arrow was hugging him tightly.

“Let’s clean you up, buddy,” you said as you squatted down beside them. She let go of him and you wiped off his face and helped him blow his nose. “Feel better?”

“We can play dress up,” he said. You picked him up and hoisted him on your hip.

“We’re gonna play cars. Arrow, do you want to play with us?” you asked. She smiled and nodded. “Hey how about you go wash your hands and then you can bring out the bucket of cars and we’ll play out here. How’s that sound Zepp?”

“Okay,” he said. Arrow went inside and you carried him around as you collected the trash and threw it in the bag you brought out. You tied it up and left it in the corner to put in the bin later before you you walked to the edge of the covered patio, rain coming down at a decent rate. “Y/N you’re my mom right?”

“I’m one of your moms,” you said. “I’m gonna adopt you that way everybody can know I am though.”

“Cool,” he said softly, resting his head on your shoulder. “Mom can we play in the rain?”

“Hear any thunder?” you asked. He shook his head. “See any lightning?”

“Nuh uh,” he said.

“Then we can play in the rain all you want,” you said. You walked out to the grass and spun around with him, getting a giggle out of him. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked. You spun around again and he laughed.

“There it is again!” you said. He giggled and you spun around a few times until you were dizzy and took a seat. He hugged you and kissed your cheek as you noticed Jensen leaning against the post of the patio. He was smiling and you hopped up with Zeppelin, waving him around in the air until you were back under cover. You set him down and he ran over to Arrow, picking out his favorite cars from the bucket and handing her some.

“Well that might have been one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“You took a picture, didn’t you.”

“Oh several,” he said. He glanced back at the twins and then at you. “It clicked for you just now didn’t it.”

“Being a mom? Yeah.”

“You didn’t look to me on how to discipline JJ and you made him feel better and you made him laugh. You went full mom there and I’ve kinda been waiting for that.”

“I know it’s just playing they’re arguing over but I just hate...there is so much of you in him,” you said.

“I know and that feeling will never go away but it means you love ‘em and loving them is my only requirement for us working so this was actually a really good thing.”

“Those two are so sweet,” you said.

“It’s the twin thing. Oh what fun we have to look forward to when they are teenagers and they lie to us for one another,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but I’ll take it. Did you really give her a half hour timeout?”

“Fifteen minutes. She needs to share more and he doesn’t like confrontation so he goes along with what she wants but it’s not her road or the highway.”

“She’s been a little…”

“I know. Since we told them about the engagement,” he said. “We gotta talk to her on her own.”

“Let me take a crack at her first?” you asked.

“You got a hunch?”

“I don’t think having a mom again is a problem. I think the idea of losing a mom again is.”

“That makes sense considering she was attached to your hip before all this.”

“I’m gonna go see if I can get to the bottom of this. Now go play cars,” you said. He kissed your cheek and you headed inside, drying off some with a towel in the laundry room before you went up to JJ’s bedroom. You knocked and cracked open the door, catching her splayed out on her bed. “JJ. Can we talk?”

She rolled and put her back to you. You sat down on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath.

“You know your brother did what you wanted all day. You have to share,” you said. She didn’t say anything and you lay back on the bed, turning your head. She rolled back the other way and you sat up. She rolled again and you tilted your head back. “JJ do you want me to be your mom?”

“No,” she mumbled.

“Are you lying?” She didn’t move and you sat back, her face scrunched up. “Are you scared if I’m your mom something bad will happen to me?”

“I don’t want two dead moms,” she said.

“I have two dead moms,” you said. She blinked her eyes open and sat up. “My first mom, I never met her. She died giving birth to me.”

“You only had a dad when you were born?” she asked. You nodded and pulled her into your lap. “Did he get married again?”

“No. My dad was very mad my mom died. He took that out on me. He was a bad guy. He went to jail and I got adopted by my mom when I was your age. Ray was her boyfriend. He acted like he was my dad in a lot of ways. I was sixteen when my mom died. I understand it hurts, sweetie, and that it’s scary and you don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

“I thought if I was bad you and daddy wouldn’t...and then I don’t have to feel bad again.”

“I am so sorry honey but you can’t stop that feeling from never coming back. The only way you could not get it would be to not love anyone or anything and that’s not a life at all. It’s the price you pay for loving someone. Your mom was an accident. But Daddy is young and I’m even younger and I promise you will not have to feel that way about me for a very, very long time.”

“How long?”

“How about fifty years?”

“Fifty years? That’s forever,” she said.

“I’ll give you fifty years if I can be your mom and you stop picking on Zepp. Deal?”

“Okay. I’m sorry I made him cry.”

“I’m not the one that needs an apology,” you said. “Now do you want stay in here all by yourself or do you want to come play with us?”

“I can play?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” you said. You got up and carried her down on your back, setting her down to let her run off out to the porch. Jensen got up from his seat and held up a finger, ducking back inside to where you were.

“That’s what I like to see,” he said as she gave Zeppelin a hug and he handed her a car.

“I did have to promise not to die for fifty years.”

“Fifty? You got off easy. I had to promise a hundred after the accident,” he chuckled. “I should have noticed she was scared.”

“I have more experience being a scared little girl than you do. I got experience with letting people get close again too,” you said.

“How’s that working out for ya?” he smirked.

“He’s lucky he’s hot,” you said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and grinned. “Do you want to get married in the fall?”

“This fall?” he asked.

“Can we pull it off that fast?” you asked.

“Yeah. We don’t have to book a venue which is the hardest part. I don’t see why not. What’s the rush?” he asked.

“It’s easier to adopt them if we’re married,” you said. “I don’t really want to wait longer than we have to if that’s alright.”

“I’d say let’s go drive down to city hall and get a justice of the peace right now if I knew my mother wouldn’t kill me for it. How about I call up the lawyer and ask him to start prepping the paperwork as if we already were so it’s all set to go,” he said.

“You have a lawyer?” you asked. “They’d do that?”

“Y/N, honey. My taxes alone frighten me not to mention I own a business with employees and what qualifies as a business write off still confuses me and wait you don’t have a lawyer for your book deal?”

“Should I have one?”

“Greg is your lawyer now,” he said. “He’s good. He’ll do all the paperwork for us.”

“Oh good cause all the forms online were confusing the hell out of me,” you said. He shook his head and pulled you in close.

“Silly goose,” he said, a loud boom of thunder shaking the house. “Let’s get the crew inside before it pours.”

“Who wants to build a fort?” you asked that afternoon. JJ jumped up and down on the couch and Jensen walked in with an arm full of blankets and sheets. Three little hands shot up and Jensen lazily tossed the blankets on the couch, covering the three of them.

“Hm, where’d those three munchkins run off to…” he said, Arrow ducking her head out first, hair all in her face. Jensen giggled and she rolled her eyes, the other two climbing out. “Alright. I’m gonna grab clothes pins and a few more things. You guys start designing.”

You stood back and let JJ organize, figuring out her first choice of blanket for a roof was too small. Jensen returned with a bag of clips, some twine and the step ladder, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“How they doing?” he whispered.

“Picking out the roof,” you said, Arrow rushing over and grabbing his hand as Zeppelin climbed on JJ’s back and held up a sheet over the two of them with one hand. You smirked and she let out another eye roll.

“Daddy, can you pick up Zeppy so then he can put the blankie up? I told them they’re too small,” she said.

“Sure,” he said. “Tell me where you want it to go.”

Twenty minutes later the family room was covered with sheets, tied off to the stairs, chairs, the ceiling fan after Jensen broke out the larger ladder to get up there and assured you it wouldn’t bring the whole thing crashing down.

“Can we sleep in here tonight?” asked JJ.

“I don’t see why not,” you said. “There’s plenty of room on the couch. We’ll bring down your comforters when it’s bedtime,” you said.

“Can we watch Cars?” asked Zeppelin, glancing at JJ.

“Okay,” she said. She gave him a hug and picked him up, Jensen smiling to himself as he looked on.

“Can we get pizza for dinner like a real sleepover?” asked Arrow.

“We did cook up all the chicken at lunch,” you said, giving Jensen a side eye.

“Yeah we’ll get one,” he said. “Why don’t you turn on your movie okay? We’ll be right there.”

You let Jensen pull you into the kitchen, smirking as he picked you up and sat you on the counter.

“Seems like today’s crisis has been averted,” you said.

“I’m sure they’ll go back to tormenting each other tomorrow but I’ll take it,” he said, reaching into the drawer next to you, pulling out a menu. “So. You interested in pizza?”

“Oh that looks interesting,” you said, taking the pamphlet out of his hand and tapping at a special. “One cheese, one speciality, boneless wings and garlic bread? My little carb loving heart is in love.”

“She’s not the only one,” he said, leaning up on his tip toes and kissing you.

“Are you coming?” groaned JJ from in the fort. You shook your head and Jensen kissed your neck, even nibbling before he pulled back. You smacked his chest and he set the menu down, giving you a wink.

“We’re coming in right now. Don’t wait for us kiddo.”

You woke up sweating, Jensen shushing you, arms wrapped around you. You took a deep breath and caught the clock said it was almost three. You turned in his arms and buried your head in his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your back.

“You’re okay. Bad dream is all,” he said softly. You nodded and started to relax, flinching when there was more thunder. “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing’s gonna get ya.”

The thunder shook the house and you tensed up. Jensen pulled the covers over both your heads and you crammed in as close as humanly possible when more thunder hit.

“Honey look at me. Please look at me.” You lifted your head and saw a horrible face in front of you, a scream ripping out of your throat.

“Y/N,” you heard as you woke up absolutely drenched, Jensen’s hands on your face. “Honey, talk to me. Can you hear me?”

“Night terror,” you said quietly.

“Yeah, JJ used to have them. I didn’t know adults could get them,” he said.

“Can I have a cold washcloth? And some water?” you asked. He got out of bed and padded into the bathroom in his boxers, settling back into bed and handing you the water. You drank it down while he wiped off your face and neck, running it over your head. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Mostly feel embarrassed.” He frowned and you put the glass on your nightstand, staring down at your sweaty shirt.

“Should I call Ray?”

“It was a stupid nightmare. I’m fine,” you said.

“You were sat up eyes wide open and talking and shouting and I couldn’t wake you up,” he said. “I know adults really shouldn’t be getting night terrors so maybe something triggered you or something during the day.”

“I know my triggers and I know when it’s just a stupid nightmare. Back off,” you said. You got out from under the hot covers and went outside to the balcony, the air nice and cool from the storm earlier. The slide of the door was loud in the the quiet and you rubbed your arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve seen you have nightmares. That was a lot worse,” he said.

“I thought I saw someone watching the house earlier.”

“What?”

“It was the neighbor’s kid, the teenager. It was his friend and he came over late but I thought...it freaked me out. That on top of thinking about the fact my father is not rotting in a jail cell most likely sent me over the edge,” you said. He walked in front of you, resting his hands on your arms. “I’m okay. Needed some air was all.”

“Alright. Tell me if something like that happens again?” he asked. You hummed and he gave you a kiss. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s head on back to bed.”

“What do you mean?” you growled into the phone the next evening. Jensen lifted his head from his book in the family room and you walked away, stepping out to the private patio area on the side of the house. “That’s not possible.”

“It’s been fifteen years. He has every legal right to be in the country.”

“In the country! He got an apartment seven minutes from where I live!” you said. “I have little kids here, Finn. Tell me there’s something I can do.”

“I can get a restraining order-”

“That doesn’t mean shit to him. I need him fucking deported. I need him gone.”

“Y/N, you know me. I have never agreed to it but he paid his debt as it was assigned and he quietly followed the law. He did what he was supposed to and I’m sorry but until he does something, I can’t do anything besides help you and your fiance’s family get a restraining order.”

“So until he does something horrible again, I can’t do anything about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No Finn. I appreciate the heads up but...I have to go.”

You hung up and squeezed your phone tight. He knew where you lived. He was minutes away and there was absolutely zero help until something went wrong. You sat on a bench and bounced your leg. Nothing could go wrong. You couldn’t let anything go wrong. Who knew what the son of a bitch would do to any one of them.

You stopped bouncing your leg just as you heard the door open. You lifted your head and stood, spinning around to Jensen standing there.

“Everything alright?”

“Actually no.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“My ex,” you said, swallowing. You crossed your arms and thought of the things Jensen had told you about acting and getting in character and all that. You were gonna destroy him. Fuck you were going to end up shattering him into a thousand pieces he’d never put back together.

You couldn’t really lie just to keep them away from him, could you?

You saw Arrow run past in the house and made your face hard. Broken heart but safe kids was worth it.

“I thought you didn’t talk to him anymore,” said Jensen. You turned up your chin and he smiled. “You are the worst actress in the world. Who was it really?”

“I think we’re moving too fast and I want to take a break and I would appreciate it if you gave me my space to figure this out on my own.”

“Uh, what?” he said. You brushed past him and he followed you in, all the way up to your bedroom. You got out a bag and he flipped it shut. “What the hell is going on? Who was on the phone?”

“My boyfriend,” you said. He stared at you and you sighed. “You’re a great guy but I’m sorry. I can’t do the house and kids thing. I want to go see the world and not be tied down and you’re just...you’re too damn old for me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe you should have trusted your first instincts when you saw me and Doug,” you said. He stared at you while you shoved some clothes in a bag. You slung it over your shoulder and he caught the backside of it. You took off your ring and put it on the table by the door, Jensen dropping his hand. “I just can’t do this anymore. It wasn’t you. I’m sorry. I really need to go.”

______

A/N: Read Part 16 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen series #rpf #rpf series #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 4 years ago

Note

So the all boys are playing minecraft for the first time. How would they react to suddenly being attacked by a skeleton?

Undertale Sans - "Oh no! That guy has a bone to pick with me!" You can hear Papyrus slapping his face somewhere around you. He really doesn't care. He's too busy filling Papyrus' basement with TNT anyway.

Undertale Papyrus - Everytime he gets shot, he's screaming. Papyrus is not dealing with pressure very well and he's taking video games with too much heart. He didn't notice it was a skeleton, the thing is terrorizing him and he wants it dead.

Underswap Sans - "Dear Mojang, please put clothes on your skeletons. This is very inappropriate in a children' games. I know my magnificent body is very magnificent, but I don't want everyone to see bones in a video game." SEND. His job here is done.

Underswap Papyrus - He gets shot from behind. Then he closes the game. Too spooky for him. He's never going to play that again in his life.

Underfell Sans - "YOU ASSHOLE!" He's charging. You attack the wrong guy. He's pissed off. As he runs towards the skeleton, he falls in lava and die, losing his three diamonds. His rage scream could be heard several miles away.

Underfell Papyrus - He's reporting Mojang because zombies have clothes and not skeletons, and it's racist. He puts 0 stars of Steam and an angry review. It became a meme on the Undernet in no time, and everyone is drawing naked outraged skeletons to mock him.

Horrortale Sans - He's growling at the computer. It's not like the skeleton can hear him, but he's growling anyway.

Horrortale Papyrus - He got jumpscare and hit the screen with so much force his hand got through. Oops. Well, at least, the skeleton can't bother him if there's no screen. He's paying though, he feels bad.

Horrorfell Sans - Like Red, he's raging hard. Except he's throwing the screen through the room because of how angry he is.

Horrorfell Papyrus - He promised to eradicate all skeletons on this world. No, he will eradicate all skeletons from every world. ... Oh wait.

Swapfell Sans - He doesn't care about the skeleton, he's already yelling at the "FUCKING SHITTY" creeper that just blew his house away. Nox hates this game, he's not patient enough to start everything again every 10 minutes.

Swapfell Papyrus - Why can this skeleton be naked and not him? He's jealous. The next day, he's going out naked. He got arrested ten minutes later for disturbing peace. Nox is not very happy when he had to pay his bail. Again.

Outertale Sans - He's sending his dogs fight and he runs in the exact opposite direction screaming "nope nope noPE NOPE"

Outertale Papyrus - He finally found diamonds after five hours mining, and that skeleton pushed him in lava with his arrow. He cries.

Dancetale Sans - He keeps dodging, waiting for the sun to raise. He's enjoying seeing that skeleton BURNING IN HELL.

Dancetale Papyrus - He died. But then he came back at the exact spot and got shooting again to death. He can't respawn.

Dancefell Sans - He's kicking the skeleton in the face without any hesitation. Stupid enemy thinking he can be stronger than him. He is the best boy here. Impostor.

Dancefell Papyrus - He's building walls around the skeleton and fill the hole with lava. In his last moment, the skeleton shot him and he fell in lava to die with him. Then Tango ragequits.

Farmtale Sans - YOU. YOU KILLED HIS DOG. YOU'RE GOING TO DIE SO HARD. He's venging his best friend.

Farmtale Papyrus - He's hiding in a hole like a coward and waits for the skeleton to go away because it's scaring him.

Mafiatale Sans - "I used to be an adventurer just like you, then I took an arrow to the knee". He got banned from Minecraft.

Mafiatale Papyrus - He missclicks his lava bucket and burned himself stupidly. Welp. He's not going back and he's going to kill someone to feel better.

Mafiafell Sans - One moment, there's a computer, the next one, the computer is teleported in the middle of the ocean. He's done.

Mafiafell Papyrus - He takes an actual arrow and stabs the screen. The skeleton is dead. He is so clever.

Ink Sans - He just wanted to be friend :( And now he's dead. ... What was he doing already ? Ah yes, building a buff Error.

Error Sans - ... Well f*ck, he's erasing this world. You know what, he's erasing Minecraft too. And the world.

Disbelief Papyrus - Even video games skeletons doesn't like him. He goes back in his bed and cries.

Dustale Sans - He got so scared he used his blasters on the screen. The computer is dead. The wall too. And there's a hole in the ground too. Oops.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #horrorfell #swapfell #outertale #dancetale #dancefell #farmtale #mafiatale #mafiafell #ink sans #error sans #disbelief papyrus #dustale #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines

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dilexit · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 7: I’m Getting Tired of Editing

Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter

✎ Wilbur x GN!Reader

✎Word count: 1.7k

✎Summary: Even tho they are counting the seconds they don't actually do a bucket list item

✎Warnings: Swearing (probably), Food (talks about eating and lunch time), probably some typos, not really a warning but Y/n is in AP Calc I’m in no way smart enough for AP Calc but I wanted to make Wilbur a LIT nerd and I liked the contrast

✎ So your girl is an idiot and though she posted this chapter 3 days ago so that's my bad I do indeed plan on posting the last three chapter over the next three days as they are mostly finished but yeah everyone get ready for my next book set it up coming soon

Y/n was sitting in front of their locker with their computer on their lap and their camera in their hand. Pressing down lightly on the blue-tinted piece of plastic, it popped out of place. Humming to themselves, they placed the memory card into their computer. Y/n knew they probably shouldn’t be skipping their history class to just work on this project but deadlines were coming up way too quickly and they needed this film to get done, well done enough before prom. They started picking at a sticker on the corner of their computer while their editing software was loading the 15 videos. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh to themselves seeing the old videos and how scrawny they both were as sophomores. M hall was quiet at this time besides the faint noise of theatre kids being theatre kids and choir kids being choir kids. Y/n reached into their bag to grab headphones so they could listen to the videos. They had already decided that the intro shots would be saved for last because they were indeed clueless on where to start with that. They only covered one ear with the headphones so that they could be semi-aware of the school day around them. They went to click on video one ‘Making S’mores on the stove’ when they realized how much of a pain in the ass the project was going to be. This video was only 27 minutes long making it the shortest video meaning all the other videos were well over 30 minutes. Y/n would have to watch hours of their old selves which was already unbearable but made worse by the fact that editing kinda sucks. Nevertheless, this was their future, already a scary thought but this film would make or break them. Wilbur had gotten into NYU months earlier and Y/n had been accepted as well but under an undecided major. Sure they had applied and gotten into other colleges, they even had made a plan to transfer schools if they didn’t get into the film school at NYU. They knew they were being dramatic but they had to commit somewhere and their future depended on them going to a film school. NYU was the dream because Wilbur had already fallen in love with the campus and music program plus he had already gotten in. The two never planned to be separated for college and hopefully with this film they wouldn’t be. That was if Y/n ever finished it. Halfway through cutting out all the poor angles and awful shots, the bell rang signifying the end of second period. Y/n groaned, they had barely made any progress and they couldn’t skip AP Calc without consequences. They closed their laptop with a sigh and turned around, opening their locker behind them and using the now open door to help them up. They shoved their laptop into their backpack and put their camera carefully back into the camera bag, which lived on the top shelf of their locker. Grabbing their bag and shutting the door and walking away from the safety of the arts wing.

……Lunch……

“Y/n you need to eat something darling,” Wilbur said waving a fork in their face

“No, not yet I have fifteen minutes of shaky biking footage to figure out. It’s making me a little nauseous, how did I not figure this shit out yet.” Y/n groaned with their head resting in their hand while the other hand was typing away trying to figure things out. “You see,” they started looking up at Wil for the first time this entire lunch period, “Some of these videos are fun to watch because like 12 year old Tommy screaming like a girl is funny, but signing our names on the slide is a horribly boring 43 minute video. And half of it is just us biking. I didn’t even put the camera down to film the wheels to get a good transition, man I was a dumb child,”

“You know Y/n there's this thing called lunch, and during this thing called lunch we do this thing called eat lunch, so please for the love of this checklist at least put away your computer,” Wil begged pulling their computer away from them

“Wilbur you ass,” Y/n shouted half-heartedly. Instead of fighting back, they grabbed their water bottle taking a well-deserved drink from it. “You know how sad this is?” Y/n asked laughing softly

“What do you mean,” Wilbur had an eyebrow quirked and his head tilted making him look almost like a lost puppy.

“I mean it’s sad watching us grow up on a screen. Do you think I should have spent less time filming us and more just living in the moment?”

“Love I’m not sure why you’re getting all existential on me but you didn’t waste any time filming us because that’s how you lived in the moment, now please eat and get some sleep tonight so that your brain can work on some of the most important days of our lives,” He softly took Y/n’s hands in his silently letting them know that he would be there no matter what crisis closing this chapter of their lives would cause.

……7 pm……

“But it’s like I understand but don’t,” Wilbur said grabbing another slice of pizza from the boxes sat in the middle of the kitchen table, “ I mean I thought the sadness came after it was over not the anticipation,”

“Have you ever thought that the list ending is what’s bothering them?” Techno asked which made Wilbur stop and think

“From what you’ve told me it seems like it wasn’t Saturday where this intense mood shift came in… Did anything maybe happen that night?” Philza asked He and Techno had been dancing around the thought that maybe Y/n was disappointed that they weren’t going to prom together.

“I guess but that's probably because the only fun task we have left is drinking energy drinks then it’s just 17 and 18 one of which requires Y/n to edit an entire short film before midnight,” Wil said before Tommy butted into the nice talk the other three were having

“What is number 17 anyway? I get you don’t want to tell us because you’re a prick but I don’t think that’s very nice of you,” The youngest brother complained with pizza in his mouth

“Oh no Wil now you need to tell us, Tommy called you mean,” Techno mocked

“You all will just have to wait until prom,” Wil said picking up his slice of pizza as a subtly way of trying to move onto a new topic

“Speaking of Y/n how are they handling all the pressure of editing?” Phil asked taking the bait

“They are doing ok, they are really blocking out everything else though. I help when I can but I really only know music mixing software. I wish I could do more,” Wilbur confessed and he felt the butterflies that had come to show up every time he mentioned Y/n

“Looks like the best thing you can do for them is support them,” Phil advised and Wilbur nodded at his father

“Well in other less sappy news I got an A on my English paper,” Deciding he had had enough of seeing his brothers lovesick yet oblivious face Techno change topics again

“Very nice Techno, I’m proud of you,” His father said and everyone at that table knew he meant it

“Oh I did pretty good on an algebra test,” Tommy added, “Thanks for helping me Wil,”

“Anytime little brother,”

“Is anyone gonna eat the last piece of pizza?” Tommy asked but without missing a beat grabbed the piece from the plate as the playful banter of the Soot’s dinner filled the room

……8 PM……

“So I actually did pretty good work during cinematography and then when I got home I finished stringing together the sophomore five especially because number 5 and number 15 were super easy to do as it was just a shit ton of speeding up clips” Y/n said over a video call, Wilbur knew they were still working as the clicking sound of their keyboard could still be heard. “If you want I can send it over to you so you can sit through the abridged version of my suffering and point out any careless mistakes I might have left in,” That’s how they had always been Y/n did the hard work editing and Wilbur made sure it wasn’t just filled with fancy editing skills and was still a followable project.

“Yeah I can check it out,” The boy replied happy to watch the forgotten memories

“Great but this is all you get. I want the rest of it to be a surprise for you.” Wilbur faked an overdramatic frown when subtle yelling could be heard in the background of Y/n's room. They pulled one ear out from under their headphones and shouted back to their parent. A large grin spread across their face. “I’ll be right back,” They quickly rushed down the stairs to then be seen with a hanger and a bunch of F/c fabric running into the bathroom. When they emerged Wilbur had felt something he hadn’t felt so strong in a while. He knew Y/n was the one. He knew he was far from over them and he had completely fucked up. In true twin fashion Techno had stood up and sat down on the floor next to Wilbur with a hand on his shoulder. Techno was not a physical affection type of person so Wilbur knew that his face was readable. Y/n was having the time of their life in their prom outfit.

Tags:Tags: @daninotfound-alt @chlorofume @reverse-iak @kiritokunuwu @boiled-onionrings @momo-has-a-gun @boyleanti @luluwinchester @sad-t-an @angelicaschuyler-church @victoria-a567 @veratiserum-amore @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy @liawhite3 @wtfwriter @moonscastella

#wilbur soot x y/n #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #sbi x reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x y/n #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #sbi x y/n

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vicious-vixxxen · 4 years ago

Note

DRABBLE BURST TIME: Ceo Shouto (or Aizawa dont mind either way) with a taller, and bratty male secretary who’s been teasing him all day :)

((Love love LOVE this, and I’ve yet to write for Shoto, so hope you enjoy ;3 also totally got out of hand, does this even count as a drabble lol)) Shoto Todoroki X Bratty Male!Reader

“Holy /shit/, Midoriya-San, you’re getting absolutely stacked!” You practically squealed, grinning from ear to ear as the greenette did his best to make himself look smaller- which was no easy feat, seeing as how he was well passed 6’4, rivaling you be three inches, and over two hundred pounds of pure, raw muscle. It wasn’t every day you got to see the Number 1 hero, as he usually took his conference calls with Todoroki...well, over a call. As the title suggested. Duh. But when he came in it was always a treat, because try as he might to feign embarrassment, he never once rebuffed your advances to fawn over him. Blush a deep crimson high on his cheeks, delving deep into the collar of his hero suit as you moved /too/ close, and touched a little /too/ much. Over his arms, and his shoulders. All too aware of the eyes boring into your back all of the sudden. “That’s quite enough, Y/N,” Shoto drawled from behind you, ever the warm facade of impassiveness. You’d worked for the man for nearly two years now, and you could always tell when it was put upon, or when he was well and truly bored and everything, and passive was just the resting mood to get him through the day. “It’s good to see you, Midoriya,” Shoto smiled, soft, and kind- bringing Deku into a hug- eyes ablaze, and never leaving yours, as you snickered at the way he had to step on his tiptoes to properly hug his old friend, and colleague. “I was just telling Midoriya here that if he isn’t careful, he’s going to get someone pregnant with just a flex of those biceps. And I swear he’s grown two inches since last I saw him! Hasn’t he?” You asked cheekily, before sizing Shoto up, and grinning devilishly. “Though I suppose to someone of your stature it doesn’t make much of a difference.” Midoriya tensed, gawking at you, looking between Shoto’s steadfast impassive expression, and your smirk. “Only joking, of course, Todoroki-San. I’ll leave you and Mr. Midoriya to it then, and I’ll call up a bottle of champagne like last time. Just don’t go getting sauced on me again, Midoriya-san, or i’ll have to cart you home myself.” You beamed, winking at Midoriya for good measure, before shooing he and Shoto back into the CEO’s office. But not before Shoto caught you by the wrist, and tugged you down to his height, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Thin. Ice.” He whispered heatedly, face never revealing it however, as he let go and readjusted your cufflink. “Is that supposed to be a pun?” You whispered after him, laughing at how the man’s shoulders tensed just before the door slammed shut. You could never get enough of his temper.

Todoroki’s meeting with Midoriya ran much longer than it ever had before. By the time the hero walked out, excusing himself quickly to get a jumpstart on his nightly patrol, most of the agency had already cleared out for the evening. Save for a few stragglers on the lower levels, but seeing as how you worked at the very top, it was just you. And Shoto. Not the first time, and not the first time it’s been done so purposefully. Clever man.

“Y/N? Would you come in here for a moment, please.” Shoto called out, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. A heat curling in your gut, as you logged out of your computer, tidied up your space, and headed into the man’s office. Eye’s immediately falling on Shoto, standing at the front of his desk, leaned back with a glass of champagne still in hand. Though it was almost empty. Shutting the door behind yourself, you crossed your hands behind your back innocently, tilting your head to the side. Curious. “You think this is a game? That this is funny?” Shoto asked seriously, and you simply feigned innocence- brows drawn down low, as you closed a few more feet between the two of you slowly. Not missing the way Shoto’s eyes raked your body once, then twice, a soft, yet audible gulp heard from his side of the room. “I must admit to having no idea what you could possibly be talking about, sir,” You offered quietly, taking another step. Then another. And another, “I should’ve fired you a long time ago, constantly pulling stunts like that. How do you think it reflects on me, hm? Having an insatiable fanboy at my front desk, as my secretary. Fawning over every male hero who walks through that door.” Shoto sounded upset, though you knew the real reason why. It always worked him up, you doing what you did. But that was part of your fun together. Part of what made /this/, so exciting. “I think,” You began slowly, closing the last of the few feet between you and your boss slowly, looking down on the shorter man now, with a hum in your throat. Reaching off beside him to grab the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket it sat in. Swishing it around carefully, judging it’s contents, before smirking. “-you should try and reel in some of that jealousy. It’s bad for your business.” You’d never been able to help that- teasing him. Taking a swig from the bottle with a sharp hiss at the carbonation. Smacking your lips together, as Shoto stood at his full height finally- still a whole head shorter than you. A blush, no doubt from the alcohol, coloring his cheeks, just barely. “You’re a brat,” He hissed up at you, rough, sure hands clawing at your hips, to bring your fronts flush together. Flicking his hair from his eyes, exposing both beautiful irises to you. “But i’m your brat. Not theirs. Don’t forget that,” You reminded him softly, taking another swig from the champagne bottle. Setting it aside, and cupping his cheek with the same hand- brushing your thumb over the man’s scar carefully, before coaxing his lips open, and sealing yours to them. Letting the rush of champagne flow from your mouth to Shoto’s. Waiting for him to swallow, before kissing him. Eating up the soft, needy sounds he let loose. Always so put together, so strong. But when it was just the two of you, like this, Shoto could finally relax. Barely flinching as you lifted the man onto his desk, and slotted your hips together. Chuckling darkly at the hitched, breathy moan Shoto released as your cocks dragged together deliciously, even through the fabric of your slacks. “Mine,” Shoto breathed, statement and assurance and agreement all wrapped into one, as you ravished the man’s collar in bites, and kisses. Careful not to leave any marks that wouldn’t fade overnight, as you worked on undoing his pants, and yours. “Mine,” You echoed, or growled, really, as you took both you and Shoto in hand- biting your lip as you realized how wet the man was already. Precum from Shoto’s cock enough to slick the both of you up deliciously as you stroked. ((Ending it there just to tease sksksks and to make it more drabble sized-ish, cuz I could go on forever, I LOVE size difference, any way you spin it, so this is just...ugh. Hope you like it!))

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #shoto todoroki x male reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #todoroki x male reader #todoroki x reader

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fandom-monium · 4 years ago

Note

I JUST READ KITCHEN CATASTROPHES OMG ITS SOOO CUTE UGH MY HEART SO SOFT CAN YOU PLSSS DO A PART 2? THANK YOU KEEP DOING WHAT YOU DO

AN: thank you, anon! i dont plan to make a sequel to KC. But if i did:

For Valentine’s Day

Summary: In which you throw a wrench in Spencer’s plans: you don’t like Valentine’s Day. “If it’s with you, I guess it’s not so bad.”

WC: 2.9k (whoops)

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, semi anti-valentines day, Spencer tears up but dont worry were there to fix that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, post-For the Holidays

Fuck cooking, Spencer thinks one day.

It's an irrational thought. The kind that strikes through his mind in a flash of irritation like a scrape of the knee as he is perusing the internet. Yes, he is using a computer willingly. He has to because he's desperate.

Cooking is stupid. Who really needs it, right?

…

He needs it. God, he needs it so bad.

His need to learn cooking wasn't as incessant until recently. Until you came along.

Spencer is a meticulous person and a romantic if you'd ever met one. Makes sense considering how he grew up, reading the classics and all that. He's read all the gooey literary shit old people write and while he never understood those meanings it all dawned on him one day. Quotes written like 'the stars in their eyes' and 'sunshine glowing off them like a halo', suddenly makes sense once he meets you. Or at least, after coming to know you, months into your newfound friendship.

It's because of this he plans accordingly the weeks leading up to Valentine's day! Because again he's meticulous and a romantic and a genius so he plans every step and makes a back up plan in case A, B, and C fall through.

Is he going overboard?

… Nah. No way. Not when it comes to you.

But fuck with a capital F, man.

It's your third date. Or what is supposed to be your third date if you would just stop being you for a second.

Then again, he loves you a lot and he wouldn't love you if you weren't, well, you.

Although—pardon his french—what the fuck.

Spencer knows he needs to learn to cook. You've tried plenty of times to teach him and he loves learning and he especially loves it when you are the teacher (wait, does he have a teacher/student fantasy? Maybe. That’s something he'll look into later. Preferably with you).

Unfortunately, he's terrible at it.

He's made progress and he knows it's true because you said so but the miniscule progress he's made is. Not. Enough. And it's all your fault! Because he gets so distracted by you during your lessons, like when you put your hands over his to show him proper slicing techniques—holy fuck, he wanted to combust right there—or just watching your deft hands at work, lips and brow scrunched in concentration in that adorable way. And you smell like cooking oil or whatever you're making and you're hot.

He's so into you it physically hurts. Ugh. How is he so lucky?

You're also the first person he's been this into since Maeve. And everyone knows how well that turned out.

So he tries to dial it down for Valentine’s Day. Morgan told him once he tends to throw himself into everything he does, including love. And when you two got together, he promised the universe he will not fuck this up. He ends up combining Morgan’s advice with Luke’s, trying to be casual like Luke says because apparently you're just as into him as he is of you.

The thought makes him grin uncontrollably. Luke says it makes him look like a clown but a lovesick clown. A lovefool, Luke hehs.

Spencer doesn’t get the joke, but it does nothing to deter him.

As Luke advised, Spencer does “not” make a dozen back up plans and does “not" plan weeks in advance. Because that wouldn't be casual, would it?

But now the day’s come and as Valentine’s Day turns to Valentine’s Night, Spencer wants to pull his hair, rub his frustratedly stinging eyes but he can't because he's in the middle of work, in the middle of the bullpen, in the middle of his desk and he refuses to be that guy. Not again.

Why does he feel like sobbing? Like a loser?

Because you don't like Valentine’s Day. No, you abhor it.

It happens in the middle of the work day. It's like he tried to open a door only for a bucket of ice water to be dumped on him and now he looks like a drowned rat. He definitely feels like one.

You're talking with Garcia about her Valentine’s Day plans as you multitask, switching between putting together packets and stacking them aside. Then taking them under the hole-puncher and stapling them together because the BAU isn't all kicking down doors and catching freaks.

It makes sense that you’re chatting with Garcia during your break. The two of you have become two peas in a pod after you came out of your shell. Now you're inseparable. Only you make Garcia leave her batcave as much as she does now.

Out of sight, he catches tidbits of your conversation when he hears distinctively: Fuck Valentine’s Day.

Okay, you didn't say that verbatim but you might as well have, grimacing as you three hole-punch a packet and his heart. Then a nail on his coffin only it’s with a stapler.

Thump. Chick.

Spencer winces; there goes your his Valentine’s Day plans.

It shouldn't sting as much as it does. You've been dating for over a month and Valentine’s Day is definitely not his favorite holiday either. It's not even top 3. And as you rant he can’t help but silently nod in agreement, all the facts straight: yes, it's an eyesore. Yes, it's a capitalistic holiday. Yes, people should do nice things for their significant others no matter the time and not because it's expected on a specific day. Yes, it doesn't compare to Halloween—

The thing is, you two aren't that “couple-y”, at least in a traditional sense. Not like Will and JJ who got a babysitter so they could go out or like Luke and Garcia as they plan to go to a special Valentine’s Day event she wants to check out (she vehemently denies anything going on between them but he doesn't need to be a genius to see the affection they have for one another. Just kiss already, damn).

So yeah, Spencer hoped to spend the romantic holiday with you. For once, he'd have Valentine’s Day plans, aside from exchanging cards with the team and his mother.

But apparently you hate Valentine’s Day! So there goes plan A, B, C, and D!

Spencer feels the tears spring at the corner of his eyes. He sniffs as subtly as he can, raising an open case file to his face. Of all the plans he hadn't thought through this was not one of them. IQ 187, his ass.

He should've known. Or at least ask your thoughts on Valentine’s Day. That was inconsiderate on his part. He blinks back tears, withdrawing into himself despite his hurt because he is a lovefool and only for you. He just wants to impress you, make you happy even if that means canceling your first Valentine’s Day together.

Now if you'll excuse him, he has to call off a few reservations and make some returns. Several actually.

Can you return a dozen donuts in the shape of hearts?

… Yeah, he better ask Emily for the rest of the day off.

—

"Hey Newb, have you seen Spencer? I haven't seen him since his break," You ask, resting your chin in your hand as you squint at another form. Your eyes are beginning to tire.

Spencer asked you several times over the course of the last week, checking to see if you were free today. You are, so you planned to hang with him after work, but he hasn't returned from his break and he wasn't answering your calls or texts. Not unusual but still odd for your boyfriend (you still can’t believe you get to say that).

Luke sighs, his smooth voice reaching over your shared divider, "You know at some point I'm just not going to respond. You guys can’t call me Newbie forever."

"Keep telling yourself that," You snort without looking up.

Another sigh and you smirk: you win.

"For your information," Luke grumbles, words punctuated with sass, "Doc went home."

You pause. "Home?" He didn't tell you.

"Yeah, probably to get ready for your date."

"Our date?" You frown and stand up, leaning over the divider to see if Luke’s fucking with you.

He isn't. Luke shrugs, humming wistfully as he rests his cheek in his hand, "You should've seen how excited he was, being it your first Valentine's Day and all. I told him to chill out because you'll love whatever it is no matter what but I'm sure he ignored that and planned something spectacular for you guys." Sitting back, he twirls around in his chair.

You grimace, recalling your earlier conversation with Garcia.

Shit.

"Meanwhile, I have to spend Galentine's Day with Garcia because all the ladies of the BAU are taken and I have nothing better to do—" Luke comes to a full 720, catching the tail end of your coat as you whip it on and make for the door. "—um, excuse you?"

"If Emily asks, I had an emergency!" You manage to call back, throwing open the glass door.

"Okay?"

"Thanks, Newb!"

As the elevator door dings shut with you inside, leg jumping because you have a sneaking suspicion you fucked up, Luke slouches in his chair and grumbles.

He's not a newb. Or a newbie.

—

You rush over to Spencer's, catching your breath as you stumble to his front door. There's shuffling from inside, the faint sound of clanking and crashing and your heart swells because this is the man you’ve fallen for, the first one you've ever felt this way for. Here he is, being all considerate and romantic. And here you are, fucking it up when your relationship’s barely even started.

God, you're an asshole, you berate yourself as you turn the doorknob and push open the door. You're an asshole you're an asshole you’re an asshole—

Then your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack.

Immediately, you slap a hand over your mouth and nose as your favorite scented candles hit you like someone shoved a bouquet in your face. The description isn't too far off considering there's a lovely bouquet of your favorite flowers still in its wrapping, haphazardly set next to a dozen donuts on the coffee table like no one's business. Its petals are strewn across the floor, a few in tiny piles like they were hastily swept to the side. Red and pink and dark green fill your vision.

Who gutted Cupid and tossed his organs around, holy fu-

"(Your name)?"

Startled, you crane your head to find Spencer, beautiful hair askew and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows as he clutches flowers to his chest. In his other hand, he grips the colored strings of several shiny red and pink balloons in the shape of hearts and—fuck—your heart might actually float up from your chest and into your eyes.

This is your man. Your partner. Your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend panics, fumbling for a second before stuffing the balloons and trimmed flowers back into the room behind him and slamming the door shut. He turns back to you, eyes wide.

"What-what are you doing here?" Spencer stammers, wringing his hands together.

You blink at him, dumbly holding up your phone. "You-uh-you left early and didn't return my calls."

"I'm sorry. I think I left my phone at work," Probably because he left in such a rush, Spencer groans, looking anywhere but you. The petals scattered over his floor are quite pretty in this light. "And I was a bit busy."

"I'm sure you were," You gawk openly at the strings of fairy lights hung around his living room. It's a clash of aesthetics. Spencer always rocked dark academia, but despite how ugly the combination of red and pink decorations with his nature green walls and dark wood is, it leaves his apartment a little brighter, a little cozier, and you love it.

You love everything about this.

But as you take in the ugly beauty of it all, Spencer fidgets at the doorway, mistaking your awe as shock and disgust. Wiping sweaty palms on his trousers, his eyes dart around, trying to focus on something, but every place he lays his eyes on makes him cringe. He catches all the things he couldn't clean up or put away in time. No doubt you do too. All the leftover flower petals, the donuts he can’t return, candles that haven’t blown out because he has the lungs of an 8-year old asthmatic.

Spencer can't imagine how appalled you are.

And the longer your silence stretches on, the more nervous he gets so he blurts out, "I'm so sorry, (Your Name)!"

Your brow shoots up as he begins to ramble.

"You must hate this. I'll put everything away."

"You really don't have to—" You stop him, and your heart nearly crumbles as Spencer's does when he finally meets your worried gaze.

His eyes gleam with unshed tears. He swallows, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Doc—"

"At least not without asking you—"

"Doctor—"

"I understand if you want to break up—" His voice cracks, as if the idea itself will destroy him (it definitely will).

"Spencer—" His voice, wobbly and dripping with unnecessary guilt, draws you to him.

"But I want you to know that I—"

With an exasperated sigh, you grab his hand as yours finds the nape of his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss.

For a second, Spencer doesn't respond because who kisses the person they're about to break up with? Strange, really. But then he kisses you back. His hands remain frozen, unsure of where he stands, but he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. He figures this is a new social cue he has yet to learn. And if this is the last time you kiss him, he'll treasure every second of it, take whatever you'll give him because again he's a lovefool for you.

And when you pull back, he's too dazed he nearly misses the look you give him. Suddenly, he can’t breathe.

You look at him like he hung the stars instead of cheap fairy lights around his apartment.

Spencer’s confused. "I-I... Wha—"

"I'm not breaking up with you," You chuckle, and you nearly burst out laughing as genuine puzzlement takes over his face. You tug him behind you, plopping yourselves on his couch. You smile, appreciating the way he organized the cushions and throw-pillows; there's now space for two people to lay down.

You take a breath. "You wanna know why I don't like Valentine’s Day?"

Spencer slouches, though his body is angled towards you so you suppose that's good. He sighs, "Because it's a capitalistic holiday that reinforces the idea of doing the bare minimum…"

He begins listing your reasons, and your eyes soften. Of course he listened and remembered even if you mentioned it offhandedly.

You nod once he finishes. "Yes but before that—and I can't believe I'm telling you this—back when I was a little kid, I didn’t get any Valentines."

Spencer's brow furrows at the newfound information. You continue, "I'd get some from my friends and stuff but that's not what Valentine's Day is about. At least not when you're a kid. When you’re a dumb kid, it’s about couples and romantic shit, and I didn't really have any of that growing up." You purse your lips and glance away, face flushed with embarrassment. It's really not that big a deal, but putting it into words makes the idea seem more intimate and personal.

It takes a moment for your words to sink in as Spencer can't believe his ears. How could you not have been showered with love and affection and presents on Valentines Day? It's like water doesn't make things wet or fire doesn't produce heat; it just doesn't make sense. Because you deserve that much and more.

"So every Valentine's Day, I lowered my expectations and eventually I stopped caring. I'd tell myself those things and I started to believe them," You bite your lip, eyes crinkling as you give Spencer a sheepish smile. "But now I have you."

At that, Spencer returns your smile, letting you take his hand. Any tears he had seem to evaporate instantly.

“So, I'm sorry that I hurt you. I stand by what I said before, Valentine’s Day sucks. But if it’s with you,” Blushing deeply, you play with Spencer's hand, large and veins defined compared to yours, shrugging, “I guess it’s not so bad.”

Spencer’s smile broadens, and he intertwines your fingers together. "So what you’re saying is, you don’t hate this?” He looks around his living room.

You shake your head, unable to stop the grin crossing your lips. “No. In fact, very much the opposite. Honestly, thank you for this, it’s beautiful. I have no words.” You breathe it all in; the candles, the flowers, the— Your nose wrinkles and you snort, “Did you burn something?”

Bashfully looking down, he scratches his chin. “I-uh-tried to make your favorite dishes. Though, I was hoping the candles and flowers would mask it.”

You giggle and pull him into you, snuggling into his side. “That’s okay. I’d much rather have you anyway.”

With Spencer a blushing, stuttering mess in your arms, head resting on your chest, you press a kiss to his hair and conclude; yeah, you don’t like Valentine’s Day.

But you sure as hell love Spencer more.

—

AN: FtH status: finished - 7/5. yes 7.

I realize this was not what anon requested but oh well i wrote this at 2 am

I’m not that anti v day but i stand by the capitalistic aspect.

yes this takes place after For the Holidays.

also included luke bc hes my bro and i honestly think he deserves so much more than what the show gave also garvez ftw

happy post valentine’s day!!

Song: Lovefool by The Cardigans

#spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #mgg imagine #mgg fic #mgg x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds

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darling-cas · 4 years ago

Text

Hoax (an original story)

I amaze myself sometimes.

My therapist says I need to go back to things that bring me joy, says I need to find happiest in life again. During one specific session, I was asked to name a time when I was truly at peace, a time I felt moments of pure joy outside of my partner and friends. The first thing that came to mind was a time years ago, when I would post stories here, on this website, for you all to see.

This surprised me honestly, because if you knew me personally (*cough* hi @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie *cough*) you would know the amount of stress and pressure I put myself under when it came to writing We Are Young, Whatever It Takes, etc, etc, etc. But despite all the negative emotions, the moments that always stand out to me is sitting on my laptop after I clicked post, watching all the love and adoration pure in from each and every one of you.

I say this monthly but, I really do want to get back into writing. Thanks to my therapist and business major partner, I’ve been dipping my toes into editing for others as a side job. But I want to make my way back to writing my own stories and sharing them with even the smallest corner of the world. This story, Hoax, I wrote actually one year ago, when I first started therapy and after a hard heartbreak. It helped me feel like myself again and lifted me out of the darkness.

I hope, for even the smallest number of you, it does the same. I hope you can feel the same magic that I felt when I wrote it. Take this as a thank you for, years ago, bringing me such joy and happiness.

Until next time...

Cas.

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

The air was midsummer sweet.

It was an Indian summer of blue sky dreams and late evening tears, with the weather shifting moods in the blink of an eye. Grey clouds would eclipse the setting sun with their mighty fists, soaking up the colour of the earth like ink drenching a cotton ball.

And with the continuous alternating weather came the busty smell of sunblock and wet grass. Summer scents combined with the salty air and pungent fish that cling to Jake’s senses from the moment he started his journey along the coastal towns.

His mountain travels started just mere days ago. The task of hiking the grand peak was something he was finally going to cross off his bucket list. Dipping into his savings and requesting a week or two off work was a small price to pay when it came to the tranquility and beauty laid bare before him.

Born and raised on the outskirts of the city, there hadn't been much nature for him to appreciate and admire growing up. But from the moment Jake entered the first small, close-knit fishing town, all he could seem to do was appreciate and stare in outright awe.

The land laid undisturbed all around; the mountains, the trees, the ocean, they had all planted their roots, dug in their heels, and refused to surrender. Cities had been conquered, the vast expansion of country fields and towering summits were placed in chains, forced to give themselves to man. But here, on the coast of fishing villages, it seems as if Land and Man came to an agreement, a compromise, an understanding, to live in peace as one.

Roads of all kinds swerved, twisted, curled up and down along the coast, between the trees. Houses of unnaturally charming bright blues, yellows, oranges, and greens sat gracefully against the mountain rocks, climbing up the forest-speckled cliffs. Homes and buildings of sea-weathered colour rested on the broken shoreline. Boats bobbed in the water, their docks reaching out towards the horizon like fingers longing to reach and touch a disappearing lover.

In the coastal towns, driving along the sunset stained ocean, Jake swore he would never see true beauty again.

Even now, when the sky wept tears of sorrow, its beauty never vanished.

The weather came on suddenly, as he passed the welcoming sign for Higdon's Harbour. The roads became slick, a ghostly fog settled in, and the colours were muted a few shades darker by the clouds above. Rivers trickled down the mountain side, disappearing into shallow ditches. Waves started to leap and jump to catch the increasing wind. All while the sky cried on and on.

Jake drove on through the town. Classic rock thumped softly in the background and raindrops tapped on the roof of the car. He had planned not to stop for the night until the next town over. He had driven through several rain storms since the start of his trip, and this was nothing.

But the cracks in the sky's broken heart continued to grow with exceptional pain. Tears of despair quickly turned to tears of anger. The beating on the car became more aggressive as the wind wailed daunting threats and the ocean frantically waved its arms.

It became too much, too quick. Jake was used to driving through bad weather, but not seaside storms. Not gusting winds and sideways rain. Plus, he decided, he was already making good time. So when the flashing green neon sign reading Beaumont Motel came into view, he didn’t hesitate to pull off the road, into the parking lot, and turn off his car.

A bell jingled above as Jake pushed open the door. He stepped into the warmth of the lobby, drenched through his clothes and soaking the carpet under his feet.

“Turned nasty out there real quick, didn’t it?”

Jake threw off his hood, shaking out his damp, blonde hair as he caught sight of an older woman with long grey hair smiling at him from behind a wooden desk.

She pulled her beige cardigan closer around her, brown eyes crinkling in the corners. “Looking for a room, hun?”

“If you happen to have one available,” Jake replied, walking towards the desk and setting down his backpack. Judging by the lack of cars in the parking lot, he was more than confident there were plenty of empty rooms. Still, he glanced at the woman’s name tag and flashed her a smile. “Vera.”

“Oh, hun,” Vera chuckled. Her fingers tapped away on the computer that looked too new to be in the small, tacky, lobby with flower-patterned wallpaper. A lobby that was decorated with simply a small sitting area off to the side, a dusty fireplace warming the room, a dark wooden desk, rouge carpet, and outdated lighting fixtures. “I think I have one or two available. For how long will we be seeing your handsome face around?”

“Only a night,” Jake said. “I’m just passing through.”

“Storm pushed you off the road, huh?” Vera turned around and grabbed a key off one of the hooks on the wall. “It should only last the night. Nightly storms are common for us during this time of year. Here you go, hun.”

“Thank you!” Jake took the key before picking up his bag once more, throwing it over his shoulder.

“If you’re looking to warm up a bit, Kay & Elle, the pub next door, is open for a few more hours,” Vera informed him, fixing her wool cardigan on her shoulders. “A lot of the locals inhabit the place, but we’re friendly folks here. I’m sure they’ll keep you entertained for a bit.”

“Thank you for the suggestion!” Jake pulled his hood back over his head. “Have a good night, Vera.”

She waved him off with a dazzling smile. “Enjoy your short time at Higdon’s Harbour.”

Rain beat down around Jake as the lobby door closed behind him. The sticky air promised an onslaught of thunder and lightning, but it had yet to develop. With a glance at the metal key in his hand, Jake made out a marked 9 engraved at the top. His toes were cold as he quickly made it to the door and inserted the key before pushing the door open and stepping into the musty smelling room.

It was just as drab as the lobby. The double-bed was dressed in off-white coverings. Cream walls, dark carpet, and tacky seaside pictures. Along with two side tables by the bed, a small TV on top of a mini fridge, and a bathroom door on the far wall.

It wasn’t the nicest looking room he’d ever stayed in, but he would also be lying if he said he hadn’t stayed in worse before.

With a tired and uncomfortable sigh, Jake tossed his bag onto the bed, peeled off his wet coat, and padded off into the bathroom.

He never really thought of going to the pub Vera had mentioned. His only plans that evening consisted of taking a scalding shower before crawling into bed. Maybe watching some TV or reading the book at the bottom of his bag to spice up the night.

Yet, once the two former items on his agenda were checked off, an uneasiness fell over him. Neither the TV nor his book could hold his attention. The bedsheets itched his legs. His heart thumped in his chest, just fast enough to be noticeable. He couldn’t sit still.

Lightning flashed outside and Jake’s head whipped in the direction of the window. The pub came into view; the two porch lights twinkled in the dark and laughter sounded in time to the pounding storm. It shimmered in the lightning’s afterglow, the rain creating a silver mist of magic around the stone building.

Jake tossed off the sheets and threw on some clothes and his damp jacket. The pull in the pit of his stomach pushed him towards the front door without Jake even really realizing what he was doing. But he chalked it up to boredom and the anxiety of being knocked off his schedule.

He left the warmth of his room behind, almost crashing into a figure as he gently closed his door. An apology was on the tip of his tip tongue when a feeling of nausea washed over him. He felt dizzy, stomach turning. But it was gone between one blink and the next, along with the person. Jake got a glimpse of red hair out of the corner of his eye followed by bells and laughter as the door to room 8 snapped closed.

The thunderous weather started to overload Jake's senses and the urge to get to the pub was greater. With his head down, the figure fading from his memory, Jake made his way across the parking lot.

A drink or two would kill some time, he thought to himself. At least it would help settle the uneasiness and put him to sleep.

The mist around the pub seemed to glow as Jake drew closer, but he was too busy keeping the rain out of his eyes to pay much mind to it. Warmth shot up his arm as he pushed the door open, a jingle filling the room.

The smell of liquor and smoke tainted with the slight scent of sweat greeted Jake as he stepped over the threshold of Kay & Elle. The low rumble of a banjo filled the space, bouncing off the wooden rafters, mixing with the low mumbles and chuckles of the clusters of people scattered around the room. It wasn’t a full house, but crowded enough given the storm outside.

With his footsteps sounding off the wood floors, Jake made his way to the dark-oak bar. He received a few stares and nods of acknowledgment as he walked by men and women alike, sitting at tables and standing by pool tables. As he walked past, he took in the stone walls, the empty stage in the back, the shimmering yellow lights, and the photos of fishermen, smiling ladies, and vast landscapes littered throughout the walls.

He took off his jacket, his heart having settled from the moment he entered the pub. Jake wasn’t a man who believed in faith, but in his bones, deep in his marrow, he knew this was where he was meant to be, for whatever reason.

“Well ain’t you a fresh face,” the elder man behind the bar remarked as Jake sat in one of the barstools, just a few seats down from a hunched over figure nursing a glass of whiskey.

Jake placed his wet jaket on the chair beside him as he chuckled. “Hard to be a stranger in this town.”

“Small-town life, my boy. Everyone knows everyone.” The man threw a towel over his shoulder, his dark hair pulled back in a low pony-tail, causing the wrinkles on his slim, tan face to be on full display. His green eyes sparkled in welcome and his smile pulled at the faded scar on his left cheek. “Passing through?”

The dim lights jumped and danced off the many bottles lining the wall behind the bar. A muted glow hugged the bar, the music changing to the beat of a fiddle.

“I am, but the storm took me off the road for the night,” Jake explained.

“You staying at the Beaumont?”

Jake nodded. “The woman, Vera, recommended I stop by for a drink.”

The words tasted bitter, full of half-truths and false tales. But Jake wasn’t sure why, just as he wasn’t sure how to explain his need to be sitting in the pub at that particular moment.

“That woman,” the elder man chuckled with a shake of his head. “She sends more business this way than any billboard ad ever could. Well, have a drink while you’re here…"

“Jake.”

The music skipped a beat as the fiddle played a harsh note. The air turned bitter and cold. Jake’s limbs urged him to run, screamed that he made a mistake, scolded him for giving his name so willingly. But it was a reflex; the word leaving his lips before he understood what was happening. An impulse came over him, the same one that pulled him to obey the man's demand and order a drink.

No one seemed to notice the odd behaviour, aside from the hunched over figure a few seats down. His depthless brown eyes flashed to Jake, grey hair falling across his pale, sweaty forehead. There was a look of pain and madness in those eyes. Jake opened his mouth to say something when a draft of beer appeared in front of him. And suddenly he couldn’t remember why his limbs felt tense or why there was a cold sweat on the back on his neck.

“Nice to meet ya, Jake,” the bartender smiled with a gleam in his bottle-green eyes. “Name’s Murphy.”

“Likewise,” Jake raised his drink before bringing the glass to his lips, downing half of it in a few gulps.

The hunched man tipped back the last of his whiskey, slamming the glass hard on the bartop.

“Murphy,” he spoke in a husky voice, like the sound of asphalt and gravel.

A flash of irritation, with just a hint of sadness, came over Murphy's face. He didn’t say a word as he quickly prepared another glass, sliding it gently in front of the stranger.

“Take it easy, Harold. That’s your third now.”

Harold grunted, shooting back half the glass without a word.

Murphy sighed, every other emotion but worry washing from his face for the smallest moment, before he turned back to Jake with a smile on his lips.

“So, where were you headed before the rain knocked you off track?”

After another smaller sip of beer, Jake explained his mountain travel plans and his desire to reach the great peak that waited for him at the end.

“Good on ya. Do it all now while you’re still young and can move about,” Murphy said with a chuckle. “This a solo trip? Or are you with someone special? Perhaps they’re waiting for you back in your room?”

“No,” Jake chuckled, ignoring the grunt of clear annoyance from the man a few seats down from him. “Just me.”

A glimmer appeared in the old man's eye. “So no one speical then? No sweetheart waiting for ya?”

Glass rattled as Harold slammed his empty drink back down on the bar.

Jake cast a sideways glance at the stranger. Restlessness rushed through him as he slowly sat up straighter. Tension gripped his limbs as Harold turned to look at him. Those unnaturally dark eyes shined with intensity. They held so much knowledge, so much pain, so much fury that Jake couldn’t look away.

“Don’t waste your time with such things, boy,” Harold grumbled, voice rough and firm. His brows were pulled together so tight they were touching, as the bar cast his face in shadows of back and grey. “Love is pointless.”

He said the word love with such hatred, Jake felt as if the stone structure surrounding them would cave in and collapse.

Murphy, for his part, looked just as on edge. It was a fact that did little to calm Jake's sudden nervousness.

“Harold,” he sighed. “Let’s take a moment-”

“There is one thing that is certain when it comes to love,” Harold continued, eyes gazing unblinkingly at Jake. “It is nothing but pain. Love is made up of pain and heartbreak and bitter ends. It is a useless and pointless part of the whole damn human existence.”

A hush fell over the bar, as if even the other guests could sense the mood Harold had brought about. The upbeat tone of the fiddle suddenly switched to a soulless wail. . A shiver ran up Jake’s spine and he begged his body to turn away, to dismiss the man and be done with it. But he couldn’t. His unmerciful gaze pulled him in and suddenly Jake was drowning in the scent of liquor and smoke and dead leaves and depthless seas.

“You fight so hard." Harold gripped his glass, and a crack started to appear. “You fight with all you have and give yourself completely and it's no good. It doesn’t matter. Nothing you do is good enough. Love is about fighting a losing battle and in the end, only one person suffers the consequences. And it's usually the one who fought the hardest.”

“Harold.”

Murphy’s voice was firm, loud, booming over the music as Jake jumped back in his seat. He didn’t realize how intently he’d been listening to Harold. How he was hanging on to every word like it was air. Or how, while talking to the terrifying man, for the first time since entering the town, Higdon’s Harbour glowed with colour.

An angry, remorseless, pulsating red colour.

Harold held Jake's gaze for a moment longer, intense eyes cast in complete shadow, before turning back to the bar.

“Thanks for the advice,” Jake found himself saying, voice shaking more than he'd like to admit. He didn’t mean to speak, the words simply rushed out of him with an aftertaste of smoke.

Clearing his throat, Jake downed the last of his beer before pushing the glass towards Murphy for a refill.

A hush fell around them for just a few moments, the tension already starting to subside. Jake felt his shoulders drop as he slowly sipped his beer and Murphy slid Harold a glass of water. After some small talk with the old bartender, Jake felt himself able to breathe once more. His body started to relax, the fog lifting from his head. He was breaking the surface and forgetting all about the darkness of the ocean and the murdered limbs of the trees on the forest floor.

While on his third drink, Murphy started to get busy with the other parties of the bar. Tables started to ask for refills, and drenched couples walked through the door, the wind roaring behind them. He drifted more and more between the bar and the tables. And it was about that time that Jake decided he would soon be calling it a night.

“You shouldn’t have stopped, boy.”

Ice crawled up Jake’s spine at the sound of that sandpaper voice. Murphy was off to some seemingly remote corner of the bar. Jake couldn’t help but notice that every new body who walked in stayed far away from the bar, from him, and from Harold.

Jake gripped the tall draft in his hand, foam and condensation running through his numb fingers.

He turned to face Harold, those black soulless eyes dragging him into the abyss. He was in a freefall, too much rushed through him all at once. A thumping started at his left temple and his heart dropped to his stomach as he fell and fell and fell from the bowels of the sky through the open arms of the corpse-like trees.

“You shouldn’t have stopped,” Harold spat, teeth clenched and head hung low. “You should get out of this cursed town before they get you too. They know you’re here. They knew you’d be here before you knew you’d be here. They got to the rest of this damned town. They got her. Get out before they get you too, boy.”

Fear rooted Jake in place. Fear for what, he couldn’t tell. But in the back of his mind, in the depth of his soul, he knew Harold was right. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have stopped. Yet, the thought of leaving caused his heart to clench and spots to form behind his eyes. Without his control, he found his lips forming the words -

“Who are they?”

The lights flickered with the time of the thunder clashing outside. The fiddle faded out and the haunting strings of a violin floated through the room, accompanied by a soulful woman's wail.

He knew he shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t provoke this man. He should just pay his tab, get up, and leave. But it was unexplainable, much like the whole night had been. He simply couldn’t help himself.

Harold completely turned to Jake. The harsh lines on his face caught the glow of the dim lights. His eyes burned with unattainable wisdom and passion. Jake's heart started to race, limbs locking into place as he noticed the music slowed. Along with, somehow, every other body and soul in the bar. A haze filled the room, a mist blurring and engulfing everything that was not Jake and was not Harold. Even the storm seemed to hush, with only the woman's cry continuing on.

“Let me tell you a story, son.” Harold’s voice turned mystical, the words floating in the air between the two. “Cause I’ve lost my friends, my family, this whole damn town, and yet no one will believe me. They think I’m a nut-case, a man full of grief. But I ain’t, you hear? And maybe you’ll believe me. Maybe you won’t. But they took my wife-”

“Your wife is missing?”

Jake’s pulse jumped as Harold leaned in close, his blood-shot eyes burning crimson red. “For years now. Cause they took her.”

“They?” Jake repeated, feeling physically ill.

Harold nodded. “The fairies.”

He should have laughed. He should have backed off. His mind should have been yelling at him that the man was senile, crazy, insane. He should have bid him goodbye, called over Murphy, and been done with this place, this man. This man who was staring at him with all the earnestness in the world.

Fairies.

The word danced around in his head, bells and whistles suddenly joining in with the escalating violin. Suddenly, the whole town made all the sense in the world and yet, none at all.

“Fairies?” Jake spoke slow and steady. “They’re just folklore. A myth.”

Even as he said it, the words turned to dust on his tongue. He wanted to wash the taste out with his beer, but found he genuinely couldn’t move.

“The Harbour Fairies,” Harold whispered. “Nasty creatures. And if you believe they’re just a myth, you’re as foolish as the rest of them. If you believe there isn’t more to this world, that we’re the only beings here, you’re blin. These aren’t just some little buggers who pick your berries and sprinkle dust. They are savage, mischievous demons.”

Jake started to shake his head, mostly to clear the fog that had started to form. “I don’t-”

“We here grew up wearing our clothes inside out and carrying bread in our pockets to stop the little people from leading us astray,” Harold spoke with more urgency than Jake had heard all night, “But little good it did. Everyone was blinded by what was right in front of them. These creatures play tricks. Oh, they love tricks. And not the fun kind. No, the kind that leads you over a cliff or dead at the bottom of the sea. They are unpredictable forces of nature who lead you in the woods, and suddenly you're never heard of again.”

“And they got your wife.”

“They stole her,” Harold spat the words into the air. His gaze flicked towards the red-head who walked past them, beer in hand, before he spoke again. “They took her from me. Everyone here believes she ran away, but I know. I caught them you see, I saw it with my own two eyes. One day she was in the garden, the next…”

… she walked into the woods, never to be seen again. Jake knew because he saw it himself. He watched it play out in Harold’s aged eyes. And suddenly he was inserted into a story that was not his. He didn’t feel right; too tight in his skin, eyes unable to properly focus on the greys, blacks, and whites of the world. But he still watched.

A grass-stained seven year old boy cradled the arm of a pretty girl with messy blonde hair. They sat in a treehouse, feet dangling over the edge, kicking at the clouds. The girl had tear-tracks running down her cheeks and dead flowers stuck in her hair. She was biting her lip, nodding as the boy spoke.

“I told you not to make your papa mad,” he whispered sternly.

“I didn’t mean to,” her lips trembled, gaze moving to anything but the boy before her. “It wasn’t my fault.”

The boy shook his head as he ran his hand over the forming bruise. “You gotta be more careful Cathy. What if something were to happen to ya?”

“Then let's get out of this town, Harry,” a seventeen-year old girl twirled in the headlights of an old pick-up truck. The waves crashed against the shore in the distance, the sun tenderly kissing the horizon goodbye. The girl’s blonde, messy braids whipped around her shoulder, dress bunched at her ankles. She stood before a brown haired boy, grass-stains on his jeans, leaning against the red truck. “Let’s pack up and leave after graduation next week.”

“And go where, Cathy?” The boy shook his head. “I have a job lined up on the boat and you have-”

“Nothing! I have nothing!” She threw her hands in the air. “I ain’t got nothing lined up. Just my next shift at the diner. I want to go to school, you know I do. But papa-”

“Don’t worry about your father,” the boy grabbed at the girls skirts, pulling her so close their hips touched. “I told you, I’ll protect you from your papa.”

The girl bit her lips, forest green eyes glancing over the boy's shoulder. Her face was tender but the look of caution never left. As if she wanted to believe the boy holding her but her heart refused to pay heed. “Promise?”

“I do.”

Applause thundered across the crowd, the waves beating against the rocky cliffs. The man lifted the woman's veil, tucking a piece of messy blonde hair behind her ear before gripping the back of her neck. He leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips. Whistles and wails filled the air, a screaming violin starting to play as the newly-weds walked down the aisle.

She held on her husband’s arm like a life-line, biting her lip as her father clapped the bride-groom on the shoulder. Her eyes darted around the crowd, the same look of caution from five years ago still masked her face.

It was a look that never left her face, a look that was forever present in the back on her eyes. It was the only thought Jake found he was able to form; the look of a woman who was scared. The look of a woman who was holding a secret.

And maybe she was, for that look stayed with her for all the years to come, Jake noticed. He watched Harold's and Catherine’s life play out before him, just as Harold described. The twenty plus years together. The moments of tender love, the moments of bitter fights. The squealing laughter and howling sobs. The funerals and the weddings, The slamming bottles and doors leading to nights together and alone. It wasn’t the best marriage, but what marriage is, Harold said.

They never had kids, their life centred around just the two of them, their fading love and the growing tension. Every second leading up to that moment, in a garden of muted yellows, reds, and oranges.

Flowers in her messy hair, a near fifty year old Catherine knelt before a bed of dirt. Sunglasses covered her eyes, dirt stained her knees, finger nails, and cheeks. She was silent as she worked.

A door slammed in the distance. “Catherine!”

The tension became electricity in the air. Catherine’s head snapped up as footsteps made their way to the backyard.

Jake noticed it at the exact moment she did. The wind switched directions, bells jingled off the tree tops, mystical laughter floated out from the forest on the other side of the garden.

Catherine turned slowly. The flower fell out of her hair. She tossed the sunglasses onto the ground and her bruised, deep green eyes glowed against the muted world. She walked towards the tree line, footfalls light. Laughter bubbled past her own lips and, between one step and the next, she was gone.

“... the forest swallowed her up and I knew they got to her.”

Jack was back in the bar. Everything rested as it had, and he himself wasn’t even sure if what he had just witnessed was real. Surely not, but the description and details felt real, tangible. As if, for a moment, he truly stood in Harold's memories.

“The forest was the only way out,” Harold’s eyes were wide, urgent, and the brightest things in the whole bar. “It was either through the house or the forest. And she’d been acting out for years. Always in the garden, out on her own. They got her, it's the only answer. But,” a pause, eyes shifting. “I know where she is.”

Jake swallowed, throat dry as sandpaper. “You do?”

“An island just a few miles out in sea. A rocky cliff, that's where they stay,” Harold nodded, talking more to himself than Jake. “She's there, with them. I’m taking my boat out tomorrow morning. I’m going to get her and-”

“Harold.”

Murphy’s voice was enough to make Jake jump back. He never noticed how close he had been leaning towards the old man. Just as he never realized how tightly he was holding his warm, untouched third glass of beer. He pulled his hand back, wiping it on his jeans as the pulsing in his left temple grew stronger.

As he looked around the pub, Jake took in all the faces looking his way. Eyes bounced between him and Harold, whispers and murmurs accompanying the flute and violin pair. It was only when Murphy loudly, purposely, cleared his throat that the inhabitants of the bar started to look as if they weren’t listening.

“Harold,” Murphy spoke softly, placing a hand on Harold’s tense shoulder. “I think it's time to head home, friend.”

There was a fight in Harold’s eyes, Jake could see it. That bloodshot, haunting, soulless gaze held a fire and life to them, ignited by the hatred for creatures that couldn’t exist. But the moment Murphy spoke, the moment Harold looked around the pub and saw all the eyes on him, the fire vashined. It was as quick as releasing a breath, there one minute and gone the next.

Harold held Jake’s gaze. There was still so much left unsaid, unanswered, and Jake found he didn’t want him to go. His mind and soul craved to know more about fairies and their secret world.

A laughter echoed off the rafters, and Jake realized for the first time that night how terrified and exposed he truly was.

“Tomorrow morning,” Harold grunted as he stood, the invitation loud and clear. Jake didn’t understand why Harold was inviting him along but it somehow made all the sense in the world.

With no other parting words, with not so much as a glance at any other living soul in the pub, Harold walked out. Back hunched as he disappeared over the threshold, rain and wind howling as they swallowed him whole.

A hush carried on throughout the pub for a few heartbeats. Until the flute faded back into the plucking of a guitar. Someone cheered, laughter followed, and soon the lively atmosphere of the bar was back once more. As if the haunted man with an implausible story wasn’t present a few moments before.

“Is it true?” Jake found himself asking, tongue sliding across his chapped lips. He turned in his chair, facing Murphy, who now stood behind the bar. He hoped his shaking hand wasn't noticeable as he raised his beer to his lips. “About those… about the fairies.”

The word tasted like strawberries and metal on his lips.

Murphy glanced up for the glass he was cleaning, scar strained across his cheek as he pursed his lips. “They’re urban folktales. Myths passed down through all the generations of the Harbour.”

“And his wife?”

Murphy paused. He let out a sign, placed the glass under the bar before turning to Jake. Worry and concern shinned in his eyes.

“She left him,” he explained softly, mindful of the ears around. “Packed up and left, just like that.”

“Just like that?” Jake raised an eyebrow at Murphy’s hesitation.

“There were… rumours about cheating and drunken fights but…” Murphy took a breath, crossing his arms on the bartop as he leaned in close. “Look, Harry's a good guy, difficult but good. Our families know each other well. And Cathy… well she had a hard life with her father. She wasn’t all there before she left and Harold took it hard. He still won't get help and has himself convinced the Harbour Fairies are behind it. Says he’s seen things with his own eyes that explains it.”

Jake swallowed, leg bouncing restlessly. “He’s going out tomorrow morning-”

“Yeah,” Murphy nodded solemnly. “We’ve tried to stop him, talk sense. But he won’t listen. And he’s at the age and point now where we've given up - what can ya do.”

A lot. Jake glanced around the pub, taking in the numerous people laughing, chatting, drinking. He didn’t know these people, he shouldn’t judge, but they could be doing something to help that man. He may be talking crazy but… was he?

The more Jake studied the bar, the more it felt like a fog was lifting. The pieces were falling into place. The math was suddenly starting to make sense. And Jake refused to acknowledge the answers that were before him.

“Where is she then?” Jake asked, breathing through his nose to calm his racing heart. “His wife. Catherine.”

“No one knows,” Murphy admitted. “She got out of this town, that's for sure. And no one has heard from her since.”

“No one checks in?” Jake couldn’t hide the disbelief from his voice. “No one’s tried to find out where she is or what happened.”

Murphy watched Jake for an uncomfortable moment. His eyes looked him over, mouth twisting as if to say something. But then his lips shut, he blinked, and he shrugged before pointing to the still full glass in front of Jake. “You want another?”

Jake's breath caught in his throat. Claws bit into his spine. His skin felt too tight as a breeze brushed the back of his neck, red flashing in his vision. The room was too small and too big all at once. He didn’t know why he was feeling such a way or what had brought it on. But his gut knew it was because of this town.

And he knew he wanted to get out.

The door to the pub shut as a couple walked out, but the noise still rattled against Jake’s bones as he shook his head.

“No,” he stood up, hand shaking as he pulled out some bills and tossed them on the bar. “I think I’ll call it a night actually.”

Murphy picked up the money, either not noticing the odd behaviour or choosing to ignore it as he smiled. “Well, Mr. Jake, I hope you enjoy the rest of your short stay. Maybe someday we’ll get to see you passing through the Harbour again.”

“Who knows,” Jake gave a nervous chuckle, “It seems anything is possible.”

He left the pub in shambles. The smell of ashes and fowl fish followed Jake as he made his way to the door. Tables were knocked off centre, chairs were tipped over. The banjo played too loud and slightly off key. Men and women alike stumbled over one another, drinks spilled onto the floor. Even Murphy’s slicked back pony was a mess, falling into his dark, sweat covered face.

The illusion was breaking, the corners being pulled back to show something ugly and monstrous. Something those who inhabited Higdon’s Harbour refused to acknowledge.

Jake stepped over the threshold, blood pounding through his veins. He welcomed the rain beating down on his face, the wind biting through his damp jacket and nipping at his icy skin. The door to Kay & Elle closed with a thunderous bang. The banjo and hysterical laughter was replaced by sorrowful wind and wailing rain.

He stood there for a moment, face turned towards the sky as he tried to will air into his lungs.

He needed to get out of this town.

Whatever force pulled Jake towards the pub earlier was controlled by a demon. He didn’t know what purpose it served him, to hear about Harold and the fairies… fairies that shouldn’t, didn’t, couldn’t exist…

Someone squealed and giggled across the parking lot. With a jump, heart in his throat, Jake started to make his way back to the safety of his room.

And he was almost there, just a mere few steps away, when his body suddenly felt as if it were stretched too thin. Nausea overcame him and his head spun. The rain pierced his skin like devilish needles and the wind sang a woman's lullaby in his ear. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, thunder crashing as someone bumped into his shoulder.

It was an innocent tap, the woman clearly too captivated by the lady on her arm to notice him. But it did all the damage in the world.

“Oh!” She gasped, the sound like a thousand bells. She grabbed his arm, full-lips pulled back in an apologetic smile as all the air vanished from Jake's chest. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't breath, the pulsing in his left temple was suddenly magnified by ten. The warmth of her hand on his arm spread through his whole body. He no longer felt the wind and rain beating against him, he was too allured by her auburn curls, high-cheekbones, and hazel eyes that glistened like moss coated in morning dew.

She was the most hauntingly beautiful creature he had ever beheld. And every part of his being begged him to run.

“Are you okay, Jake?” Her partner spoke up. They were holding one another so close, arms locked tight, it was as if they were one. Gravity pulled them together; where one moved the other followed. A simple stranger such as himself could not doubt their adoration and love.

Jake ripped his gaze away from the red-headed woman and looked at her partner. He took in her slim face, the dirty dress, and messy blonde hair pinned back with a flower.

It was then that Jake noticed that both women were completely dry.

It was then that Jake realized they knew his name.

It was then that his eyes met the blonde’s green ones, and he saw it all.

“I told you not to make your papa mad,” a seven year old boy with grass stains on his knees told the six year old girl with a bruised arm.

“I didn’t mean to,” she trembled, and Jake realized she wasn’t avoiding the boys gaze. She was looking at someone else. She was looking at the young auburn haired creature standing a few feet away, invisible to the boy and eyes tense with worry. “It wasn't my fault.”

Be more careful, the boy told her at the exact moment the creature met the girl's gaze and said, I know. I’ll protect you.

“I told you,” said a seventeen year old boy as he gripped a sixteenth year old's skirts. “I’ll protect you from your papa.”

You know he can’t, Cathy, The auburn creature said, standing over the boy's shoulder as she held the girl’s green-eyed gaze. I’ll protect you from them both.

The blonde trembled. “Promise?”

With all the power of the forest and the sea. I promise.

She was there, always there. She did all she could to keep her promise. But it seemed even she was limited in her abilities.

Jake watched Harold and Catherine's life play out once more. As the twenty plus years faded together, the moments of tender love vanished. The fights were more frequent, more aggressive than Harold let on. He stumbled home in the dark more than once, eyes bloodshot and words slurred. There were many years of fights and screams. Fists were thrown and bones were broken. And the red-head was there through it all, helping as best as she could. She cared for Cathy, tried to protect her, but it wasn’t enough.

Run away with me, Cathy. It's the only way.

And run she did.

It wasn’t a laugh that called Catherine to the forest that day in the garden as Harold’s raging voice bellowed off the walls of the house. No, it was not a laugh at all, but her name, spoken in bells and chimes, love and warmth.

Catherine stepped over the threshold of the forest, laughter on her lips, as she jumped into the arms of the beautiful red-headed fairy.

She didn’t leave, wasn’t taken. She willingly left her delusional old life for one of magic and wonder and respect.

Jake stumbled back a step, shaking off the hand of the creature before him. His head was spinning, his stomach turned and his vision blurred as he truly saw the two ladies before him. As he noticed the glow around them, the electricity that danced in their wake.

This town, these people… how could anyone let a woman suffer as Catherine did and not do anything? How could they not see what was right in front of them?

And these creatures, the fairies, Harold painted them as the demons and yet, this fairy was Catherine’s saving grace, her lover, her protector...

They shared a look, the two lovers, before turning back to him. They didn’t say another word as the fairy smiled at Jake, white teeth flashing, and blew him a kiss. They turned to leave, Catherine giving him a wink over her shoulder, before disappearing into their hotel room. Right next door to his.

Jake stumbled as fast as he could to his room, slamming the door behind him as he tried to catch his breath and will his mind to understand what the hell was going on.

It took him a few moments to realize, for the first time all night, he was completely dry.

----------

Light had yet to transform the morning sky when Jake sped out of the Beaumont Motel parking lot. The rain had stopped and the winds were whisked away. Grey clouds lingered in the sky, suffocating the rising sun on the horizon.

What was once a piece of art to Jake was now the ugliest thing he had ever seen.

The mountain reached its claws to the sky, holding all the trees and buildings in the palm of its hand. The roads swerved in and out of its fingers, weather-worn homes running up the forest-speckled hills, trying to escape. The ocean leaped for joy as it played with the rocky cliffs, trying to capture and destroy anything it could reach. The boats bobbed in the water, begging to be let free, while the docks pointed their fingers to the open sea, luring in any desperate and lonely souls to the corrupt town.

The ocean was painted an angry blue against the grey light. The white-capped waves pounded against anything in their way. What Jake once thought was a place of harmony, he realized now, was an illusion.

The image had been shattered, broken beyond repair.

The land had won after all, he realized now. It had conquered Higdon’s Harbour and all within it. There was no agreement, no compromise to live in peace. For nothing could truly defeat nature.

The land cackled against the last remains of the raging storm winds. For it knew the game it was playing; it knew who truly ruled the town. And it was not man.

Jake made it out before the first kitchen light flickered on. Before the inhabitants of Higdon’s Harbour woke and started about their delusional lives. His heart pounded in his chest the whole way, hands shaking as they gripped his steering wheel. Even when he passed the city line, his body refused to relax. Not as the sound of chimes echoed on and on and on in his head.

By the time Jake remembered Harold, he was long gone. And he was too far out to turn back. Too far out to hear the news, or see the headline of the Higdon’s Harbour newspaper that morning. And to hear the otherworldly laugh that accompanied it.

Man Crashes Boat Off Rocky Cliffs In Desperate Search Of His Wife.

#oringinal character #original writing #original story #fairies #tog #acotar #fanfiction #tog fanfic #tog fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #cas writing #personal

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miraculouswolf99 · 4 years ago

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Breaking Into The Watchtower Part 1

Miraculous Ladybug-DC Universe crossovers are some of my favorite fanfictions. They are just a good match. I especially love ones where the Justice League either ignores the Paris situation or one of the League members gets the messages for help and doesn’t believe them. Mostly, it’s the Flash, Guy Gardner, Green Lantern, or Booster Gold.

In this story, some of the miraculous have changed hands for my story. There will be new holders and different holders for old miraculous. All of my OC characters will also be included. Nathaniel has the fox, Marc has the turtle, Rose has the horse, Juleka has the tiger, and Alix will have the bunny.

*****

“This is most definitely not something that I would ever have thought that I would ever do,” White Wolf says.

“We are magical teenagers that use the power of mini gods and mystical jewelry,” Beautifly says. “Your statement pretty much sums up every day of our lives.”

“Trust me, I never thought that I would be doing anything like this before I met Plagg,” Cat Noir said.

“At least I can cross this off my bucket list,” Ladybug giggled.

“Why is the name of the Olympian gods would this be on your bucket list,” White Wolf looked at the teen hero weirdly.

“I put it on after they started to ignore our cries for help,” Ladybug crossed her arms. “Or, when it was made obvious that they were ignoring us, at least.”

“How much sleep have you gotten lately,” Beautifly asks. “You only get this sassy when you haven’t slept in about two days.”

“I remember going to sleep on Wednesday,” Ladybug put her hand on her chin as she started thinking.

“Uh… It’s Saturday,” White Wolf deadpanned.

“Oh,” was all Ladybug could say.

“If you don’t go right to sleep after we get back, I am sending Plagg over to destroy every device you have to make sure you are not distracted and can finally sleep,” Cat Noir threatened.

“But what if there is an akuma,” Ladybug protested.

“Then we will have to make sure that Cat Noir saves his power so that he can Cataclysm the moth when it comes out of the akumatized object,” White Wolf says.

“And the damage,” Ladybug continued to protest.

“We will get to that when we get there,” White Wolf said.

“You are sometimes too selfless for your own good,” Beautifly shook her head.

“Yeah, she tends to be like that,” Cat Noir chuckled. “Why do you think I force myself between her and the villains we face when she tries to protect me because she will take the hit for me. But she needs to be the one that the attack does not hit because she is the one that purifies the akuma.”

“We are a very colorful crew,” Beautifly giggled.

“Says the butterfly girl whose hero outfit is almost entirely black,” White Wolf said.

“Not my fault that Flutter is a monarch butterfly kwami,” Beautifly shrugged.

“I certainly wish that I had some color on my suit,” Cat Noir says. “While the black makes my eyes pop, the color doesn’t match my personality at all. Why couldn’t Plagg be a tabby cat or a white cat?”

“Because he is the literal god of bad luck and nobody thinks of either of those two other kinds of cats when bad luck comes to mind,” Ladybug stated. “Deal with it, Chaton.”

“Yeah, you really need some sleep before you become permanently sassy,” Beautifly says.

“I blame Hawkmoth and his never-ending late-night akumas,” White Wolf stated. “My ears are still ringing from that banshee akuma he created last week.”

“And talk about unoriginal,” Cat Noir rolled his eyes. “Scream Queen was probably the most obvious choice of name in the history of villain names.”

“Even more so than that Poison Ivy woman in Gotham,” Beautifly asked.

“Well, she could have called herself Mother Nature,” Cat Noir shrugged.

“Point made,” Beautifly said.

The four then looked at the rest of their teams preparing themselves for what was going to be done. The Greek hero team had stayed the same throughout the three years of fighting, but the French team had changed. Their current members were Vulpix, Emerald Turtle, Queen Bee, Viperion, Lady Unicorn, King Monkey, Ryuko, Shadow Cat, and Bunnix. The last two being the newest members of the hero team. The Greek team was Gladiator with the grizzly bear miraculous, Tigress with the leopard miraculous, and Ocean Mage with the mermaid miraculous. The last one being the only person to be currently using a magical creature miraculous on the planet.

All of the heroes were getting ready in their own ways. Ryuko, Ocean Mage, and Viperion were meditating. King Monkey, Bunnix, Tigress, and Gladiator were all getting themselves hyped up for the mission. Queen Bee was trying to find a way to take off her gloves to file her nails. Vulpix and Emerald Shell were cuddling, comforting each other, and probably trying really hard not to start making out. The same could be said about Shadow Cat and Lady Unicorn. Those four were always the more timid ones of the group, even though all of them were amazing heroes.

“Alright, does everyone remember their parts of the plan,” Ladybug asked them, snapping them out of their trances.

“I will make sure that everything goes smoothly and no one truly gets hurt,” Viperion says.

“White Wolf, Lady Unicorn, and I take out our biggest worries to being discovered before we are ready,” Bunnix added.

“The rest of us force them into a position where they have to listen to us,” Gladiator said.

The rest of the team nodded in agreement. Some of them were still looking nervous about what they were about to do.

“Are you sure doing this is the right thing to do,” Lady Unicorn asked. “We could get into serious trouble for this.”

“We wouldn’t be doing this at all if they stopped ignoring us,” Tigress crossed her arms. “Even with all these miraculous being active, Hawmoth’s akumas are getting more and more dangerous.”

“He is also akumatizing more dangerous people like con artists, martial artists, and policemen,” Ocean Mage says. “What’s to stop him from going all Scarlet Moth and sending his moths to a prison if he gets desperate enough?”

“That is why we need their help,” Ladybug said. “If contacting them through official means does not help, then we must do what we have to.”

“I just hope that we don’t get labeled as criminals for this,” Beautifly said.

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

If there was one thing that Robin currently was, it was bored. He had to stop himself from yawning as he sat in another long and boring meeting of the Justice League.

One would think that a young hero like him would not be a part of one of these meetings. But this was less of a war room and more of a meeting between all heroes to discuss general things involving heroes in general and not entirely league business. It was always the same things being discussed in these meetings. Egotistical politicians trying to control the league, villains breaking out of prison again, as well as discussing potential new members of the League and the Young Justice team.

Other than Robin, the rest of the Bat-family was there as well. Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Oracle, Spoiler, Orphan, Batwing, and even Batwoman. The Super family was also there. Superman, Supergirl, Superboy, and the former Superboy that now called himself Krypton. Robin smirked at how Conner had finally broken the trend of having “Super” in his hero name. He may be a clone, he knew that both Kara and Jon both adored him. The other young heroes that were there were Red Arrow, Artemis, Aqualad, Tempest, Miss. Martian, Beast Boy, Starfire, Zatanna, Kid Flash, and Impulse.

And other than Batman and Superman, there were also the mentors of the other young heroes as well. Green Arrow, Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, Dr.Fate, and the Flash. The other adult heroes in the room were Hawkman, Hawkwoman, Wonder Woman, Sparton, Black Canary, Red Tornado, all three Green Lanterns, Black Lightning, Captain Marvel, Captain Atom, the Atom, and Katanna.

As Robin looked around, he noticed that he was not the only bored-looking young hero. The entire Bat-family looked to be wanting to be anywhere else, especially since they lived in a city where a crime was committed every five seconds. But the other heroes that looked bored were Superboy, Krypton, Red Arrow, Aqualad, and Beast Boy. They were all probably like him. They were excited to be part of league meetings until it was discovered that there was a lot more politics involved than actual hero work.

“Does anyone have anything else that they would like to add,” Superman asked the room.

“How about we talk about actually saving people instead of dealing with politicians,” Nightwing muttered, making the Bat-family hide their snickers.

“Especially that psycho Lex Luthor,” Krypton muttered from his place next to Nightwing.

“Well, if that is all…” Superman was about to wrap up the meeting.

“Wait,” Zatanna shot up from her seat, her hands on her head. “I sense something.”

All the younger heroes were all now thinking how something interesting was finally going to happen during one of these meetings. But the heroes were also all reaching for their weapons if they had them.

“What is it,” Wonder Woman asked the magician, her hand on her sword.

“There is an incoming magical…” Zatanna was cut off.

A bright blue portal opened up right under her feet. She fell in before she could finish her warning. The portal closed right after she fell into it.

“What in the world,” Flash gasped.

“ZATANNA,” the members of Young Justice yelled their former team member’s name.

“Oracle,” Batman did not even have to say the entire order.

“I’m on it,” the wheelchair-bound hero immediately started typing on her holographic computer. “She’s… I can’t find her.”

“What do you mean you can’t find her,” Captain Atom demanded to know.

“It’s like she vanished into thin air,” Oracle continued typing. “She’s nowhere in the Watchtower, or on Earth, not even on my planet in our galaxy. There is no sign of Zatanna anywhere.”

“She managed to say that it was something magical that was approaching,” Wonder Woman says.

“Dr. Fate, can you do something,” Superman requested of the lord of order.

The master sorcerer stood up from his seat. While he, personally, did not care for Zatanna other than a fellow user of the mystic arts, his current host body was that of her father. So finding her will hopefully silence all the yelling that Zatara is currently doing inside of the helmet.

But before the lord of order could do anything, another portal opened up behind him. But unlike the bright blue of the first one, this portal was a ring of blue surrounding a white portal. Something had quickly reached through and Dr.Fate was instantly turned into an ice statue. An invisible figure sneaked through the portal before it closed.

This caused all the other league members and Young Justice members to all jump and, drawing their weapons or preparing their powers. They all looked around and were on guard just in case another portal opened up.

“Oracle,” Batman ordered her again.

She was typing as quickly as humanly possible.

“I can’t find anyone else in the Watchtower,” she said, still typing. “I’ve run heat scans, x-ray scans, even the program to search for invisible opponents. I still can not find anyone else in the Watchtower.”

A soft tune suddenly played throughout the room. It was like a theme song for a peaceful day in the Fall played on a flute. A ball of light soon soared to the end of the room and brightly flashed. When the flash died down, the heroes were all shocked to see a message had been written in light in the air.

“We Just Want To Talk.”

It floated there for about a minute before Superman and Maritan Manhunter flew over to the message to examine it. But the moment that one of them touched it, it vanished in a burst of orange smoke-like light.

“It was an illusion,” Nightwing was the first to realize it.

“Maybe that is how they are hiding,” Red Robin opened up his own holographic screen over his glove and started typing. “Under an illusion.”

“And if they are magical like Zatanna said, it would not be possible to detect them since the technology that can detect magic has not been invented yet,” Oracle added.

“There is no such thing as magic,” yelled out Kid Flash.

Young Justice rolled their eyes, used to the constant rants that the speedster goes on about his disbelief in magic. It certainly annoyed those like Aqualad and Tempest, who both were born in Atlantis and attended the conservatory of sorcery there. Few other magical heroes tolerated the loud-mouth. Which was why heroes like Phantom and his brother Gold Siren wanted nothing to do with the team. (Reference to my fanfictions on Wattpad, Phantom Music and Home.)

“Try to find out where the illusion came from,” Superman ordered.

“You could try looking right in front of you,” a female voice was suddenly heard.

The heroes all turned and saw three masked teenagers standing there. Two boys and a girl.

The first boy was a redhead with his bangs covering his right eye. He had on a fox-themed skin-tight orange and white outfit with red boots, gloves, and a red jacket. He also had real fox ears and a real fox tail as well. A flute was strapped to his back.

The boy next to him had black hair with green tips, which matched his turtle-themed outfit. The outfit also had a dark green leather jacket and boots with a green shield on his back, going with the goggle-like mask over his eyes.

The girl was blond with a single black streak in her ponytail. Her outfit was definitely themed by bumblebees. But unlike the shoes of the two next to her, her shoes had a slight heal to them. Like a two-inch-high wedge heel. Around her waist was a spinning top on a string.

“What have you done to our allies,” Captain Atom demanded of them.

“They are perfectly fine,” the turtle boy informed them.

“Why should we believe you,” Robin held his katana in his hand.

“Because we need your help and harming your fellow heroes would not help our situation,” the fox boy crossed his arms.

“What could you possibly need from us,” Black Lightning’s hands sparked with his powers.

“How about for you to stop ignoring us while we have been fighting a terrorist for three years,” the bee girl yelled at them.

“We also are not lying,” the fox boy said. “We have no reason to lie when surrounded by most of the world’s heroes.”

Before they could say anything else, all three were surrounded by separate green spheres that floated them up into the air. The Green Lanterns all had their rings pointed at one of the masked teens.

“This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous,” the bee girl complained as she crossed her arms.

“I got captured by the original Green Lantern,” the fox boy looked to be almost fanboying inside of his sphere.

“Lucky, I got that class clown Guy Gardner,” the turtle boy almost seemed to pout.

“Hey,” Guy Gardner protested, offended.

“Why are you here, where is Zatanna, and what did you do to Dr. Fate,” Superman demanded of the three as he flew close to them.

“You know, you are a lot less threatening than you think you are,” the bee girl stated with a smirk. “By the way, whoever told you that underwear on the outside of your pants was a good choice needs to be thrown into fashion jail.”

Most of the Young Justice team had to stop themselves from laughing. Even Superboy, Supergirl, and Krypton were trying not to laugh. They had no idea who this girl was, but she was certainly sassy.

“How did you get into the Watchtower undetected,” Superman continued to demand answers from them.

“That is for us to know,” the fox boy started.

“And you to find out,” the turtle boy finished.

The smirks the three had told the league something, alright. Batman was the first to realize what it meant.

“There are more of them,” he said.

As if him saying that was their cue to come in, three more masked teens almost seemed to materialize into the room. A guy in a monkey-themed outfit hit his Ruyi Jingu Bang against the ground and then threw it into the air.

“Uproar,” he yelled.

He threw his now glowing staff into the air, the staff letting out a flash as it spun in the air. With a swift flick of her lasso, Wonder Woman grabbed the weapon before it could fall back into the monkey boy’s hand. But something else fell into his hands that they did not see.

But then came the second masked teen, who looked like he had been born of the ocean. He took out what seemed to be a hilt made out of sapphire. Water came out of the hilt as the masked boy flicked his wrist, the water forming into a whip. Before they could move, the teen whipped all of the Green Lantern’s hands at once. Pulling his whip, the masked teen caused their hands to collide together.

That was when the monkey boy threw the object that he had caught out of the air. Katana was close enough to try and slice through it with her sword, but she was intercepted by a second masked girl, this one appearing out of nowhere and seemed to have a tiger theme to her. Even if she was purple and black and not orange and black. Katana’s sword was met with a metal tiger-claw gauntlet. While they fought, a bunny-themed girl showed up and intercepted Green and Red Arrow, fighting both archers at once. Then, to the shock of the Green Lantern trio, a stuffed octopus child’s toy landed on their connected hands.

For a moment, nothing happened and they wondered why a stuffed animal had been thrown at them. But then their rings all started to malfunction at once. The rings stopped glowing and all three trapped teens were released from their bubbles. And since the rings were no longer working, the Lanterns all fell to the ground without their ability to fly.

“We’re teenagers, not stupid,” the bee girl smirked.

No longer wanting to underestimate the masked teens, the big hitters of the league all started to move toward them. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Red Tornado, and Captain Atom.

“Venom,” the bee girl shouted.

The top in her hand seemed to grow a bit in size and start glowing. As Superman flew at her, she dodged him and managed to touch him with her top. He fell to the ground and did not move from his punching pose. He was paralyzed.

“Confusion,” a female voice shouted.

Wonder Woman turned around to almost immediately be scratched on her arm by a girl in a leopard-themed outfit. The scratch on her arm glowed purple and the hero suddenly became very dizzy and could not seem to focus. She had never been drunk before, but she was sure this was probably how it felt.

Captain Atom’s hands lit up as he aimed one of his energy blasts at the masked teens. As he was just about to blast, another masked teen appeared. This one was themed by a brown-furred bear. Probably a grizzly bear.

“Roar,�� a male voice yelled just as Captain Atom blasted.

The bear boy’s fist lit up gold and he punched right into the energy beam. To the surprise of the league, he was able to keep the beam at bay with a single punch.

Red Tornado was about to throw one of his twisters when he was hit on his robot head by a thrown horseshoe. It bounced and flew around like a boomerang-gone-wild until it landed back in the hand of a horse-themed girl.

All of the heroes and masked teens in the room were either fighting or dodging the attacks of another from one of the other groups.

“Enough,” a male and female voice shouted at once.

Even the Justice League froze as the voices boomed throughout the room. Standing on the other side of the room were six more masked teens. Three boys and three girls. The two that had shouted were a ladybug-themed girl and a boy with an icy wolf outfit. The boy standing next to the ladybug girl looked to be related to Catwoman while the girl next to the wolf boy was like a butterfly turned human. The last two were a snake boy and a girl that looked to be dragon-themed.

“All of you, front and center, now,” the ladybug girl ordered.

All of the animal-themed teens stopped what they were doing immediately. They put their weapons away and walked over to join the others at her sides.

Wonder Woman looked at the group for a few moments. The drunk feeling had been lifted from her and she could focus. There was something about them that was making an old memory of her’s rise to the surface. An old story that her mother used to tell her about when she had been friends with, who she had called, an adorable and wise little creature known as a kwami. A creature that she also remembered was bound to a magical object called a miraculous.

“The ladybug and black cat are active once more,” she gasped.

The league looked at the Amazon princess in shock. She actually had an idea who these teens were.

“We thought that you would be the one to recognize our magic, Wonder Woman,” the ladybug girl softly smiles.

Wonder Woman approached the group, putting her sword away as she did. And surprising the league again, she bowed to the ladybug girl and cat boy. The two of them and the wolf boy and butterfly girl bow back.

“It is an honor to meet the wielder of the ladybug miraculous,” Wonder Woman said.

“The honor is all ours, daughter of Hippolyta,” the ladybug girl says. “Tikki says to tell your mother ‘hi’ for her.”

Wonder Woman smiled at that.

“Would you care to explain exactly what is going on,” Batman ordered them, crossing his arms. “Starting with where Zatanna is and what you did to Dr. Fate and Superman.”

The bunny girl got out a pocket watch from her pocket. She checks the time.

“We can answer the first question now,” she smirked. “We’re right on time.”

She put her watch away and then threw her hands forward yelling “Burrow.” Out popped the same type of portal that Zatanna had disappeared through. And seconds after the portal was opened, out fell the magician.

“What just happened,” Zatanna immediately asked.

“The rest of your comrades will be fine somewhere between five to ten minutes,” the butterfly girl says.

“Before we go into the full explanation, do you guys have a bathroom in this place by any chance,” the leopard girl asked.

#crossover #justice league #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom #original character #original heroes #original miraculous #ml salt #lila salt #alya salt #nino salt #i love salt #crossovers are the best #part 1

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the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo · 4 years ago

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Missed Opportunities - Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 2

Here it is! I'm managed to whip up another part to this story. I hope you all enjoy this next bit!

If you missed out on Part 1, it's here.

Word Count: 2300 and some change

-----

Side Note: Obviously, I have taken some liberties with the plot and timeline of TFATWS. So this will be loosely based on the timings of what has happened, but will not be a chronological order of events occurred.

Much love to you, and thank you for the inspiration! And yes, there will be a Part 3 because this was more of a set-up chapter. So hopefully you won't be too disappointed with this one.

~Sandra~

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As things turned out, your conversation with Bucky and Sam went surprisingly well. Once you were finally able to say your own piece and explain the entire story, a lightbulb seemed to have gone off within both of them.

Sam, of course, was the most understanding, realizing that the reaction Zemo had was surely due to the intense trauma of what happened. He went on to explain; he had seen those types of emotional outbursts between complete strangers who had similar experiences when The Blip happened. They would come into support groups to tell their own stories, once upon a time when the world began trying to make sense of what happened.

He said it was normal. And Sam was right, he's always right. It was a perfectly logical explanation, and those are the things you look for and stood by.

Except, this.

Nothing about Zemo's reaction felt normal. The connection upon seeing him again twisted up your insides and set your nerve endings on fire. None of your previous interactions ever gave you pause like this. No, this was different. Seeing the raw emotion on his face. The intensity of how closely he wrapped you into his body, as if he were trying to consume your entire being. You were held so closely to him, you could felt the beat of his heart, hear the raggedness of his breath, and sense the tremors beneath his fingertips.

Clearly what happened had changed you both. It would be hard not to given the enormity of the event. Again, you tried to think back to your time visiting him over the past couple of years in prison. Was there always a connection between you? Simmering beneath the surface? And The Blip was simply the catalyst to uncovering something hidden? You scoffed. Now you were just entertaining nonsense. Yes, it was emotional, but this was Zemo we're talking about. There's always a reasoning behind his actions, and they're usually executed in ways that only benefit him.

And just like that, logic and sanity had finally returned to you, like a cold bucket of ice water dowsing you over the head.

You remember looking to Bucky after Sam had finished his explanation and acceptance of everything that had transpired. You had sagged in relief noticing he had taken the information in stride and was no long on the defensive. However, in the following days after, you would always catch him now and again eyeing Zemo with some sort of suspicion. You figured with how manipulative the slightly unhinged genius could be, James was simply keeping a watchful eye on him. And why should he? We all should. Zemo was not to be trusted, and yet - deep down, you felt as if you were lying to yourself. That when push came to shove, you could trust him.

And that scared you.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

All of you were gathered around the kitchen island discussing tactics on where to locate Karli. Bucky had pitched we should be looking in isolated and abandoned areas, but Sam had different feelings on the subject. He felt they should be looking in more highly populated areas, as he believed they would want to try and blend in with the community like normal citizens.

So of course they start bickering, again.

You wanted to roll your eyes at them in utter exasperation, but held back. Instead you settle for a face palm as you continue to map out possible routes Karli and the Flag-Smasher may travel to stay accessible, but not completely visible to the public eye.

As you were zooming into a particular area that looked promising, you felt the brush of someone's hand against yours to the right of where you were sitting.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was. Sam and Bucky were still debating who's idea would bring around to most promising results in the short amount of time we had before Karli decided to strike again.

You peered up at Zemo thinking he was hovering to catch a glimpse of what you were working on, but instead you were surprised to see he had simply poured you a cup of tea and set it next to you.

The brush of the hand was deliberate though. This you knew for a fact. Over the past few days since your little reunion, you noticed Zemo had been silently giving you brief bouts of physical contact. Nothing overtly sexual in nature. In fact, they were quite light and fleeting. Sometimes, it was a brush of his hand against yours, a soft touch at your lower back or the slide of his fingers against a hip as he walked past you.

You weren't quite sure what to make of the actions. They certainly didn't disrupt you, but your body always took immediate notice when he did it.

The chair you were sitting in had swiveled when you went to look at Zemo. You had planned on quietly thanking him, but he had already moved to the opposite side of the island to observe the land markings Sam had drawn up on a paper map.

You gently picked up the tea cup and brought it to your lips. The warmth of the tea emanating from the cup was a balm for your hands. Before taking a sip, you closed your eyes and inhaled the scent of the tea. Ah. Cherry blossom. Apparently, a favorite of his according to James.

When you opened your eyes, Zemo was now watching you. You tilted your head to the side and smiled graciously at him, mouthing a 'Thank you' in reply to his kind gesture.

The corner of his lip twitched up in response to your thanks, nodding back at you. He held his gaze as you took a sip of the tea.

Your eyebrows shot up as you swallowed the tea. It was quite delicious. You pointed to the cup and nodded your head up and down in quick succession to show your appreciation.

You could tell Zemo was holding in a chuckle, but refrained from expressing himself fully. You had narrowed your eyes, and thought about calling him out on it, but ultimately decided against it. Instead you motion your head to Sam and Bucky acknowledging their ridiculousness. Zemo just dismissed them with a, 'What did you expect?' type of look.

Finally you had enough of the two knuckle-heads on the other side of the kitchen and decided to intervene on their behalf otherwise they would never accomplish anything today.

"You guys planning on coming to a conclusion any time soon, or should I start selling tickets to this show?"

James stopped his rant and turned to you, "He started it," pointing his finger at Sam. "Sam just doesn't want to admit that my prospective places have added value that his don't."

"Now wait, that's not entirely true Bucky. I just think -," Sam started in again, but you had cut him off before he could finish.

"For the love of - how old are you two? It amazes me Steve got as much done as he did with you two around," you shook your head in feigned disbelief.

You might have felt bad about your slight outburst, but it was absolutely worth it to witness the sheepish expressions on both Sam and Bucky's faces. You wished you had snapped a picture. Definitely would have made it your new lock screen on your phone.

"If it's okay, I'd actually like to offer a third option," you said, motioning them over with a flourish wave of your hands.

As Sam and Bucky moved over to you, you shifted your eyeline to Zemo, "You too Zemo. Let's get your opinion on this as well since you are a resident to the area and more familiar with its surroundings than we are."

Zemo rose from his place and came to rest at your side, hovering, but not in a suffocating manner.

Even though Zemo had kept a reasonable amount of distance between you, Bucky seemed to show some displeasure as you saw him scoot him a bit out of the way as he tried to put some distance between the two of you.

You bit back a comment in favor of going over what you had discovered and turned to Sam, "I know we want to locate Karli as quickly as possible, but there are too many variables to account for when scouting buildings that they could be hiding out in. I propose we search in hidden pathways that could quickly get the Flag-Smashers in and out of different parts of the city without being readily detected."

"Alright, that does make sense, so what are you suggesting?" Sam tilted his head in agreement before gesturing for you to continue.

"Take a look at this map," you swipe your hand up the computer screen to show a holographic image of an underground rail system.

"Those look like the old track lines from a railway project that was never completed. If I remember correctly, the government abandoned the project when they ran out of money. Most of the tunnels were built, but never quite finished," Zemo interjected.

"Exactly," you turned to him beaming.

You moved your hands animatedly as you were excited by this prospect, "These tunnels travel throughout the entire city. Karli and the rest of the Flag-Smashers can easily maneuver where they need to with these routes. If I were to put money on it, I'd bet you could find their insignias left on the walls of the tunnels below as a potential guide that could -"

"That could lead us straight to their hideout," Zemo finished, smiling with what could be described as something akin to pride, clearly impressed with the astute observation you made.

"I see where you're going with this. You know, you might be onto something. Especially with our truncated time table," Sam chimed in. "Bucky? What do you think?"

You turned your chair around so you could face the three of them fully.

"Yeah, I agree. I think there's a legitimate chance we could find some clues at the very least," Bucky replied, leaning in over your left shoulder to get a closer look at the image.

Memorizing it most likely.

"If I may suggest, here?" Zemo said, pointing to a location not far from them.

You saw Sam and Bucky turn to each and nod in agreement of the starting point.

"That's good. It's also close to one of the last places we spotted Karli, so it makes sense to check it out first before branching off somewhere deeper," Sam assented.

You turn back around and start typing on the keyboard. A few moments later a ping erupted from everyone's phone.

"I sent the map to all of us, so we each have a copy," you stated.

You closed the laptop and hopped off the chair you had been sitting in, packing your stuff up into your backpack off to the side.

"Whoa. Whoa. What are you doing?" Bucky said, placing his vibranium arm on your shoulder to pause your movements.

"Getting ready to go?" you questioned slowly, as if your actions weren't obvious.

"You're not coming with us," James stated sternly.

You turned to look at Sam.

"Listen, Bucky's right," Sam answered. You saw him hold his hands up in the air and shrug before placing a hand on your shoulder before continuing, "I know, it's a shocker, having Buck and I agree on something - but when it comes to your safety, we both feel the same."

You chewed on your inner cheek, knowing this was going to most likely be a losing battle. You pursed your lips, closed your eyes slowly, and sighed before lolling your head to the side in defeat.

Sam grinned knowing he won and dropped his hand from your shoulder, as he left the kitchen to go get his gear.

Bucky came up from behind you and gave you a quick hug and kiss on the head.

"Thank you," James murmured before moving to the door.

"You can't fault them for caring," Zemo said, voice carrying softly through the air.

You pivoted around to where Zemo was, watching him adjust his holsters and making a move for his coat.

"I know," you begrudgingly admit.

Zemo put on his coat and walked over to stand in front of you.

"It may not be completely dangerous, but there's always a chance, and it's not one your friends are willing to take with you," Zemo stated.

You drop your head slightly to stare at the floor. He was right. Sam and Bucky just wanted to look out for you, but that doesn't mean you couldn't be helpful down there. You do know some self defense. You spent 10 years around Steve and various Avengers over time, it's not like you weren't going to pick anything up.

"Zemo let's go," Sam said briskly, as he walked past them to meet Bucky at the front door.

You lifted your head up and saw Zemo give a curt nod to Sam before focusing his attention back on you.

Zemo started to walk by you, but paused to lean into, grabbing your wrist to gently rub his thumb over your pulse point and whisper, "And neither am I."

With that, he abruptly walked off to join Sam and James.

Your wrist was tingling with sensation even after Zemo had left your side.

Before they all left, you managed lean over the island to strangle out, "Please play nice with each other and come back in one piece!"

You could hear the huffs of laughter as they left and the door clicked shut behind them.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#helmut zemo x reader #tfatws #helmut zemo #baron zemo #sam wilson #bucky barnes #my writing #missed opportunities #team zemo #mcu fic #the falcon and the winter soldier

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pl-panda · 5 years ago

Text

The vines that bind us - Chapter 9

Chapter 1 || Previous || Next

------

She opened the window and picked a pencil. With deadly precision she tossed it. The wooden tool sailed through the air until it hit the binoculars and broke one side of them. She huffed and closed the window before pulling the curtains closed. How rude.

Jason cursed under his breath. Any other day he would probably avoid the projectile, but it caught him completely by surprise. By all accounts, it was physically impossible to use a pencil with such precision and force to destroy military-grade night-vision binoculars. At least the memory card was safe so he could give it to replacement later on for analysis.

Still in bad mood after having his gear ruined, Jason zipped to Dupain-Cheng’s window and gave a light knock. No response. Another knock. Still no response. Finally, after the third knock, the blinders opened and the window itself followed, revealing a very angry girl. Jason finally had a chance to get a better look at her. She did, in fact, have blue hair and now that he’d seen it close, he would bet half his paycheque that it was somehow a natural color. The purple too. She must have had her hair dyed for the first day of work. Her eyes were another part that he memorized. They were blue and iridescent green at the same time, giving a slight unnatural aura. Or maybe it was just that she looked ready to murder him.

“Are you done staring?” She asked, clearly annoyed. “You are not my type and much too old. And the stalker routine is plain creepy. Get lost old guy.”

She was about to close the window when he started speaking.

“I actually came to apologize. I did not ‘stalk’ you, thank you very much. I was just checking on you, miss. You do realize that you single-handedly kicked Riddler’s ass and got quite a bit of publicity.”

“Suuure. You do that for every brave citizen?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and a small grin. “You would be really short-staffed. I hope that overgrown furry does pay you for the overtime.” Any traces of amusement disappeared from her face. “Now get lost before I sic Chloe on you. She recently started dating Damian Wayne and the two seem to bond over ruining people. I’m sure you would make a decent target.” Without further ado, Mari closed the window and put the blinders back in place, completely cutting him off.

Jason didn’t protest. He was too busy processing the fact that Demon Spawn apparently started dating someone. Oh, he would have so much fun teasing the little menace.

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

When the motorbike entered the Batcave, Jason expected to meet perhaps the Replacement or Demon Spawn. He definitely did not expect to see the entire family sans B and Alfred.

“Do you want to perhaps explain why dad received an angry call about ‘some idiot in red bucket’ stalking her through the window?” Barbara asked. frowning deeply.

“Or at least why were you stalking her?” Dick added.

“Or where you hid my coffee?” Tim joined.

“Timothy!” Several of them shouted.

“What? It’s important!”

“Back to the matter at hand.” Dick turned back to Jason. “What exactly were you thinking?!” He screamed.

“Geez. You thought about joining some opera?”

“Tt. Answer the question.” Damian interrupted.

“That reminds me. Did you know Demon Spawn got himself a girlfriend?” Jason asked, trying to deflect. He really did not like how they jumped at him.

“Not… important.” Cass stared daggers at him. “Talk.”

“Fine!” he threw hands in the air. “I followed a hunch. And I was right. She is a meta!” He procured his destroyed binoculars. “There is no human way to destroy military-grade equipment like that with just a pencil.”

Tim picked it up and quickly tossed it onto the table nearby. A blue light scanned the products and the bat-computer started to display the scan plus introductory analysis.

“Well, he is right. There is no way that a simple pencil could destroy it.” He pressed some buttons and recording from the last seconds of the item’s life played. They could clearly see her throw a pencil at it and then everything went black. “Or I was wrong.” Tim started to do a series of calculations.

“Bucket-head might be onto something. With her muscle mass, it would be impossible to throw a pen with enough force. Actually, it’s almost impossible to make that throw. Not with human muscle density…”

Barbara rolled over to him and the two started to work side by side. “But that’s also not probable since the body is not…”

“She would probably…”

“Plant fibers have a similar structure, but she would…”

“Maybe… Unless she is not strong and instead…”

“Um… earth to nerd corner. Can you explain?”

“Jason might have hit the bullseye.” Tim grinned and several groans could’ve been heard. “She is definitely a meta. It still doesn’t explain why you stalked her.”

“Is that not reason enough?” Red Hood asked. He immediately regretted it when Duke stared daggers at him.

“You do realize, that metahumans are not as rare as it was believed at the beginning?” Tim asked.

“What?”

“Roughly ten percent of humans are born with dormant meta-gene and the number is increasing each year. And about one in twenty people have an active meta-gene. They just don’t go around wrecking everything or don a cape and run around beating people.” Tim spoke in a matter-of-factly tone.

“What?”

“Yeah. Eidetic memory, or perfect recall for our uneducated bucket-head,” Tim snickered while Jason grumbled.

“I hate that name.”

“I think it will stay for a while.” Stephanie was smiling. “She does have a way with nicknames. First an overgrown furry, then red Buckethead…” She was on the verge of laughing. “I wonder what she does next?”

“As I was saying,” Tim regained the control of the conversation, “eidetic memory is actually one of the earliest forms of registered active meta-ability.”

“What?”

“The gene tends to activate under extreme duress, but, as we learned, the definition of extreme duress varies from person to person.”

“So what? A guy afraid of failing an exam might accidentally unlock super memory?” Jason dismissed it.

“More like if someone lived in years under pressure and is about to crack.” Dick pointed. “I mean there was even this large awareness campaign about four years ago led by Beast Boy. Where were you?”

“Dead.” Jason deadpanned. “I was dead.”

“Oh… I guess you didn’t see Garfield’s movies then?” Steph asked, being the first to break through the heavy atmosphere.

“She is still a meta.” Jason tried to fight, but his arguments were wavering.

“Which changes nothing. You will go to her tomorrow and apologize.” Tim said categorically.

“Ugh! Fine. But I got one more interesting fact: Demon Spawn got himself a girlfriend.” He grinned and turned to Damian. Everyone followed his gaze.

“Tt. I have no idea what you are talking about Todd.”

“That blonde! Charlie saw you two sitting and eating pastries together! She is the new intern!” Dick had a big fat smile on his face and his eyes were almost glittering. “Who is she? How did you two meet?”

“Blonde?” Tim suddenly paled considerably. “There is only one blonde intern. Please tell me you aren’t dating Chloe Bourgeoise of all people!” He squeaked.

Damian wanted to deny it further, but seeing the Replacement’s reaction he changed his mind. The grin that formed on his face was borderline malicious before turning back to the emotionless mask he wore every day. “Yes. She finally admitted that I was not at fault for the cake incident. She is actually tolerable now.”

“What cake incident?” Steph asked, smelling some juicy story about her ex. That kind of story was the best.

“Tt. When we were at this gala in Paris two years ago, Replacement attacked me and we fell into the birthday cake.”

“It doesn’t sound…” Dick started, but Damian interrupted him.

“The cake had six levels and was about as tall as I am now. Mayor Bourgeoise was not happy that we ruined his precious princess’s birthday.”

“So that’s why we no longer go to Paris?”

“Tt. No. That’s because Jason almost trashed the Louvre.”

“Right…” Tim mumbled while his eyes closed. In just a moment, he was snoring away on the chair.

“Damn. I thought it would work faster.” Barbara complained while peeling the near-invisible sticker away from his neck.

-----

Thursday actually passed without any trouble for Marinette. The class finally got it through their collective single brain cell that she had the power to end their trip with two words. She was slowly getting the grip on the work and after some talk with Penny, where the woman practically forced Mari to listen to some additional advice. She was actually offended that the girl didn’t call her immediately.

She did have to practically drag her barely conscious boss to a meeting in the afternoon, but he didn’t put up much of a fight after she gave him a Tikki Special Coffee. The small goddess giggled inside her pocket the entire time as the boy begged on his knees.

After work, she and Chloe went to the Gotham Zoological Garden. At first, she wanted to go to the Botanic Garden first, but their class was supposed to visit there after work, so the girls went to Zoo instead. Gotham had a much broader collection of birds than Paris did. And the less chance of running into their classmates, the better.

“...He did what?” Chloe asked louder than necessary, but nobody paid the two girls in smart outfits any attention.

“Yeah. But don’t worry. I gave him a piece of my mind.” Mari dismissed it.

“It’s still creepy.”

“I know. That’s why I sicced the police at him.”

“That’s my girl!”

“Well, I threatened to send you and Damian after him, but I decided it would be too cruel.” She smiled. “Besides, I’ve seen that Red Buckethead is trending already.” She pulled out her phone and showed a post there was a picture of Red Hood next to a reversed red bucket.

FashionMari @QueenGoldie Someone in a red bucket was stalking me. I was torn between calling the police and criticizing their fashion choice. In the end, I did both.

“Only you Goldie. Only you…”

--------

Friday was press conference day. For once, Mari woke up earlier and got dressed in record time. Chloe watched from the side-lines as the girl moved around like a tornado, preparing everything and triple-checking all arrangements. She changed outfits four times before finally the blonde grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to sit down.

“Goldie! You know I love you and I would kill for you,” She started, “but if you don’t calm down I will tie you up and leave you here for the day.”

“But…!” Bluenette tried to protest, but Chloe cut her off.

“No buts. We are only sixteen. I for one came here to learn a bit and maybe meet someone. You are supposed to be learning. Nobody said anything about getting a full-time job.”

“The deal…”

“So what if they fire you?” Chloe raised her hands over her head. “Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! You have Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeoise fighting over who will get you while Jagged Stone is willing to fly over half the world just to give your references in person. You run a very successful flower shop and even more successful boutique.”

“But…” She tried to muster a weak protest, but Chloe’s angry gaze made her wither.

“I will not let you run yourself dry!” The blonde stated firmly. “So either you take a step back and breathe or I will call your uncle.”

“Not uncle Jagged! he already banned me from drinking coffee!”

“So you will behave?” Chloe asked with a smirk.

“Fiiiinneee!” Mari couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Queenie. I needed this. I’m glad I have you as my friend. And sister.”

“Well of course you needed me! Everyone needs me!” She huffed before her expression became more gentle and she pulled Mari into a hug.

Downstairs the class was waiting for them. Probably they finally gathered the courage to confront her about Alya’s fate. The girl shouldn’t have lied while filing for promotion. Mari and Chloe stormed past them not even sparing them a glance. Outside, Adrien was already waiting inside the limousine with Gerard at the driver’s seat.

“I’m glad your driver is finally here.”

“Me too!” The blond boy was practically beaming. “I’m free from Lila’s clutches.”

“Could you drop us at… No. 2 Twine Street?” Mari asked the gorilla, who only grunted in response.

“Um… We should be going to Wayne Tower.”

“Nope.” Mari popped the ‘p’. “You,” she pointed at Adrien, “are an intern in PR. I asked for you to be present at the press conference to help move stuff around and so on.”

“And me?” Chloe asked. “If you expect me to…”

“You’re there to support your boyfriend. He was the one that practically demanded that I get you there. He hates publicity.”

“Oh… Good then. Let’s go.”

“Boyfriend?” Adrien asked curiously. “You mean Wayne?”

“Yeah. Apparently Chloe found herself a partner in scheming.”

“I bet that their dates are filled with planning to take over the world.”

“We could’ve taken the world over by lunch if we wanted.” Chloe looked almost offended. “The question is what way would be the most suitable one.”

All three of them broke into laughter as the car rode through the city of crime.

----

About fifteen minutes before the press conference was scheduled to start, Tim Drake was still not there. None of the Waynes were there in fact. She sent about fifteen angry messages to Mr. Drake and he was still not here, which only fueled her stress and anger.

The press had no idea so far and they were eagerly awaiting whatever news the company wanted to present. She bit her lower lips. Chloe was on the phone, trying to reach her boyfriend.

“If that idiot doesn’t get here in the next ten minutes, I’m going to consider stabbing him.”

“Damian?!” Chloe shouted into her phone.

“Tt. What do you want?”

“First of all, that’s not how you talk to your girlfriend. Second of all, where in the world is your excuse of a brother?! Mari is an inch from going ballistic!”

“Tt. He’s asleep.” Damian answered in an impassionate tone.

Mari leaped over and wrestled the phone from Chloe. “You go to him right this moment or I swear to all that’s holy and…”

“I get it.” He interrupted her, showing signs of irritation. There were some static and the camera blurred for a moment from the fast motion. When it returned, she saw barely awake Tim Drake wearing blue onesies.

“wah…”

“Get yourself cleaned up and into a suit in the next three minutes!” She shouted. God bless the soundproof backstage.

“Um… But I will never make…”

“I’m certain you have a great webcam somewhere in this big mansion of yours. Set it in the library and call me in the next few minutes. I so hope you were not supposed to be the model because gods help me…” She took a look at his terrified face. “Of course you were…”

“In my defense…”

“Shut up. Get going!” She hanged up and turned to Adrien and Chloe, who were looking at her with a mixture of fear and awe. “What are you waiting for?!” She tossed a package to the boy. “You get dressed in the new product.” She pushed him outside and into the janitor’s closet on the other side. “And you’re coming with me!” She dragged Chloe toward the main room. The blonde was sent to the technics room to get the feed started while Mari stepped on the scene. The chatter died quickly and all reporters turned to her.

“Hi. Please forgive us for the slight delay. We have minor technical difficulties that are being solved as we speak. In the meantime, you are free to take the seats. The conference is about to start.”

Behind her, a screen slowly descended. She saw Adrien leaning from the doors leading backstage and smiling at her.

“Without further ado, I present you Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”

The image of the teen with black hair appeared on the screen and he waved everyone. He was holding a red cup of coffee with black polka dots, the same Tikki summoned for him the first time.

Satisfied with herself, Marinette allowed herself a moment of rest. The conference was going well and after a minute of silence for the dead in the recent attack, the presentation began. Adrien was a natural model so it all went great. Wayne Tech in co-operation with Gabriel brand was introducing a new line of ‘smart’ fabric that could withstand medium stress and was almost impossible to dirty or stain. She had to admit it was quite amazing. Apparently, it was partially how Mr. Agreste got her class internship. Granted, Adrien was not supposed to be the model but you don’t look a gifted horse in the mouth.

Everything was going great until the doors to the room were kicked open and several goons barged in, followed by none other than Two-face. Everyone immediately fell onto the floor. Mari couldn’t help but sigh exasperatedly. Why did it have to go wrong at every turn?

Ignoring the terrified stares, she stormed toward the intruders. “Excuse me, sir?” She asked with an emotionless face.

“What?” The man looked clearly irritated.

“I don’t see your name on the guest list. Did you remember to call in advance?”

“Of course not! Do I look like…” The criminal was clearly angry.

“Then I apologize, but I must ask you to leave now.”

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Two-face pulled his gun.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you are not on on the list, I can’t let you stay.” She said in an emotionless voice. Mari was honestly too tired to care at this point. Maybe at least the evening would be better.

“I’m not sure you get the situation, miss. I’m not here for the interviews. Everyone pull out your wallets and drop them in the sacks!” He shouted while his men started to walk around.

“Hm… That won’t do.” She said. After muttering something under her breath, Mari tossed her clipboard. The spinning board hit one of the mooks in the head, knocking him cold, before bouncing and hitting the next one. After that, it returned to her hand.

That was enough for Two-Face. He aimed his gun at her, but she moved faster than he anticipated. Within seconds, she grabbed his wrist and pushed it up so he was aiming at the ceiling. She squeezed it hard enough to make him drop the gun right into her other waiting hand. The girl let go of his wrist and disassembled the gun into pieces in what could become record time.

Now irritated, Mari grabbed Two-face by his tie and pulled him down until they were at the same eye-level.

“I was trying to do it peacefully sir. I am now ordering you to leave. Otherwise, I will actually have to hurt you.” She leaned closer until she was able to whisper. “And don’t make mistakes, Dent. I can and will hurt you.” For a moment her eyes lost the blue coloring and became entirely iridescent green, glowing slightly.

Harvey Dent rarely felt fear. His life was more often than not guided by the toss of a coin. Now though, he stared in the eyes of Poison Ivy, except ten times scarier. He was already afraid of that woman after she almost fed him to her ‘precious’.

“I… I am deeply sorry madame.” He spoke carefully. “Men! We are moving out. Leave the bags!” And with that, they were all gone.

Most of the reporters gave Mari big applause. There was only one angry old man that stared daggers at the girl.

“You let that scum go away!” He shouted. “He was a criminal.”

“Sir. You are free to go after him if that’s your wish. I’m at work and my job description never included chasing after criminals.”

“But… But…”

“Anyway, we were in the middle of the press conference if I’m not mistaken.”

-------

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #batman #BatFam #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #BAMF Marinette #Mother!Ivy #redeemed!chloe #Good!Adrien Agreste #dc #MLB #mlb x dc

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crazywritingbug · 5 years ago

Text

Savior: Chapter Two

Mandolorian x fem!reader

Warnings: Mention of abuse and slavery

A/N: So I got a much bigger response to chapter one than I thought I would and got overexcited, so....yeah. Here y’all go!

For the first time since she could remember, Y/N woke easily. Wrapped in a blanket, under the stars, with someone tugging at her hand. Wait, what?

Glancing down she found a tiny green creature had clasped its hands around hers. “Oh, hello…” She muttered and it cooed up at her with big eyes and bigger ears. What was this thing? It was cute.

“Hey kid, leave her alone.” The Mandolorian’s voice sounded out a moment between he appeared, scooping up what was apparently a child.

“He’s alright,” Shespoke softly, “He’s adorable.”

“There’s a shower down below.” Was his only answer as he slipped into the pilot seat, setting the child in his lap. Y/N stood slowly, her legs complained with the movement, and her arms protested as she folded the blanket. All the while she got the feeling the Mandolorian was watching her, even with his back to her. Why? It wasn’t likely he had eyes on the back of his head, the helmet would probably make that hard.

The feeling only faded when she climbed down and stepped into the restroom-if that was the right term for it- closing and locking the door behind her. The water wasn’t terribly warm, but it was better than a bucket and a cloth, leaving her feeling clean and fresh. The clothes she found left for her helped too, even if it was only a mechanics jumpsuit that hung on her body as if she was a scarecrow. Stepping out of the bathroom she tripped over something, falling with a crash. What had she fallen over? Had something fallen on the floor into her path? A tremor shook her as a cry sounded out and the Mandolorian appeared from nowhere, scooping up the sniffling child. Y/N couldn’t help but curl up on herself. What had she done? How could she have not seen him? What would the consequences be? A beating or death? She’d heard stories of the Mandolorians, of how they killed, how dangerous they could be if crossed. Would he hurt her or would he kill her? Was this were her insignificant life ended?

“I am so sorry…” Y/N couldn’t stop the tears. “I am sorry, I didn’t see him...it was an accident, I didn’t see him…” He stepped towards her and she flinched, arms flying up to protect her head. Was this it? Was she going to die? Then…the expected blows never came.

Braving a peek from beneath her arms, she found him offering her a hand. What was he doing? Was this some kind of trick? Maybe a joke? What was going on?

“It was an accident.” He said calmly, as she uncurled a little more, her heart still hammering. He believed her? He wasn’t angry? This was new… Her hand trembled as she placed it in his and climbed to her feet.

“I believe it may be best for you to stay on board the Razorcrest when we get to Rattaka,” The Mandolorian noted as he brushed by her on his way to the cockpit. “I’ll find you a place to stay.” That was it? No swearing? No beating? Nothing except saying that it was an accident? Of course the punishment could be delayed. Would it be starvation? Sleeping out in the cold or no sleep at all? Something else she hadn’t yet thought of?

Y/N didn’t notice her hands had wandered to the scar on the back of her elbow until they brushed against a tender bruise. Flinching, she tried to stop her thoughts, worrying wouldn’t do her any good, it would just draw out the consequences. Yet seated in the cockpit behind him, she couldn’t help but fret, the. same thoughts rolling through her mind over and over again.

“Oh,” she drew her knees up to her chest as the child wandered towards her, eyes wide. “Hello.”

He- or was it a she? Never mind that it reached up towards her as if it was trying to grab her, cooing and babbling. What did it want? She didn’t have anything to give it. Was it yelling at her for tripping over it?She shook her head. “I’m sorry little one, I don’t understand.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry little one, I don’t understand.”

“He wants you to pick him up.” The Mandolorian didn’t even turn around. What? It wanted her to hold him? Even after tripping over him? Hadn’t she hurt him? What if she did it again by accident? Certainly the consequences would be worse.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Y/N shook her head, speaking to the child more than anything. The little green creature frowned at her before waddling away to climb up into the Mandolorian’s lap. Part of her almost sighed in relief. Now she couldn’t cause him to get hurt. All she had to do was stay in her seat and not touch anything.

That rule was broken a half second later as the whole ship shook and her hand flew out to steady herself on the wall. What was that? Had they hit something? A meteorite? Oh, stars above, what if it was another ship?

The Razorcrest swerved sharply as another ship dove by. What was going on? Was the other pilot drunk? Were they attacking? Did Gaffa want her back? A yelp escaped her lips as she scrambled to stay in her seat, the ship almost dropping out from underneath her. It wasn’t a yelp, but rather a gasp that followed the sound of firing weapons. Why were they being shot at? Why were they being attacked?

“Hold him.” The Mandolorian had spun his seat around, placed the Child in her lap, and spun back to the controls before she could even process what was happening. Why was he giving her the kid? Nevertheless, the command in his tone had her arm wrapping around the Child, pressing him close against her. Whatever was happening, she would not let him get hurt again. Not on her watch. The ship dropped again and so did her stomach. Could she do her watch with her eyes closed?

***

Dyn didn’t need the computer to tell him the Razorcrest was in bad shape. He could feel it in the way the ship shook and shuddered. There was no way they were going to make it to Rattaka without a pit stop at the very least. He bit back a sigh when he glanced at the charts. Tatooine, it had to be Tatooine. Didn’t he spend enough time on that sandpit hunting down bounties? Now he needed to get repairs there too? Great, just great.

Turning to Y/N he opened his mouth to tell her Rattaka would have to wait, only to find the word fleeing before they could be spoken. Eyes squeezed shut, she’d curled up on herself and around the Child. Something about it tugged at his heart. But why? Why her? What was it that had him wanting to help so badly?

“You can open your eyes.” How was he supposed to say it in a way that wasn’t a command? She clearly needed a gentle hand. She would do well on Sargon, now that the raiders were dealt with. Her e/c eyes popped open, wide with fright.

“What was that?” She whispered it, her words shaking even with the softness of her tone.

“Bounty hunter.” Dyn stated and nodded towards the Child who looked up at Y/N with an almost...concerned? Confused? Maybe an amused expression. “You can set him down.”

Y/N moved carefully, uncurling herself, almost gracefully timid in her movements, and set the little one down on the floor. He went right back to begging to get in her lap. Why did he like her so much? He didn’t seem to react like this with any of the other women he’d encountered so far.

What was so special about her?

Save for laying a hand on the Child’s head, she made no move to pick him back up. She did not say anything either, not a question, not a comment, nothing. What was that about? He’d expected at least a half dozen questions, so why was she silent?

He couldn’t help but note how her hand traveled to her right elbow, rubbing a spot on the back. Was that a nervous habit of hers? Never mind, it was no concern of his. He just needed to find a spot for her to stay and that was it, he would never see her again.

“We need to stop on Tatooine.” He stated and she barely nodded, her eyes fixed beyond the cockpit windows to the space beyond. He turned back to the controls. Well, that fixed that.

Actually, no it didn’t. He looked back at her. She had barely moved.“That’s it? No questions?”

Y/N’a gaze darted to him before dropping to her hands. “Slaves shouldn’t ask questions.” She just barely spoke loud enough for him to hear. “It can get us in too much trouble, it’s not worth the risk.”

Slaves shouldn’t...just how long had she been a slave? How long had that idea been embedded in her thinking? How long had it taken her to learn that lesson? What had it taken?

“Ask me a question.” He tried to keep it a gentle prodding, but it escaped as a dare. Her eyes darted up to him and seemed to almost search his helmet for an expression or one through the visor. It was nothing new, so why did he feel like she could see right through the Bersker?

“Why is a bounty hunter chasing you?” She spoke gently, almost shyly.

“Because I am a bounty hunter. The kid was a target, but after I delivered him I stole him back. Now there’s a bounty for both of us.” He nodded towards the child who now sat between her bare feet. Shoes, she needed shoes. Did he have any on board the ship that would fit her? Where could he find a pair? And maybe some different clothing, the jumpsuit was the smallest he’d found on board but it still hung off her as it would off a skeleton. When was the last time she ate? She was so thin that it-wait, what was he doing? Why was he thinking like this? He wasn’t responsible for feeding or clothing her, he was just finding her a place to stay. The Child was his responsibility, but not her.

She nodded, but said nothing else.

“Is that all your questions?” He quizzed her and she shook her head. “Then ask another. You can’t keep acting like a slave when you aren’t one.”

“Why are you helping me when you already have enough to deal with?” She pulled her knees up towards her chest, almost as if she was scared of the answer. “You must have known that I have nothing to offer, that I am pathetic and well,” An almost bitter laugh sounded from her lips. “I’m desperate. So why not only help me, but pay for me when you could have-should have- walked away? Why bring me on board your ship? Why risk getting in trouble with Gaffa to help me? To save me?”

Why did Y/N have to voice the questions that had been bouncing around his head? Why did she have to ask the few questions he didn’t have an answer for? And why was he having her ask questions? Why did it matter to him that she quit acting like a slave?

What was wrong with him?

“There’s bigger fish in the sea than Gaffa.” Was the only answer he could give before he turned back to the controls. Maybe having her ask questions was a bad idea.

The rest of the flight was spent in silence.

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forthehpfanboys · 5 years ago

Text

Weasley’s Wild Ways

Pair: George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley; he/him.

Summary: You, a head strong Hufflepuff, stands up against Umbridge once and catches the twins attention, which most would say was a bad thing. What happens when they swap from sweet to sour and back again?

Warnings: Manipulation, abuse, swearing, probably more, god I’m bad at this.

Notes: Requested and I’m so sorry this took so long and it’s low-key cringy! And it’s super long, to be honest. I’ll edit it tomorrow? I’ve been having a lot of computer problems and second guessing myself on stories. I’ve been rewriting them at least once lately.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

You really should’ve noticed when they noticed you.

It wasn’t a coincidence that Umbridge’s classroom all but melted into ashes and smoke the day after you stood up against her and her squabbling little butler and got detention. It should’ve been clear when Draco and his gang apologized not even an hour after teasing you about your family, their faces covered in bruises and small cuts.

You probably should’ve noticed how your friends held their tongues around you, how teachers avoided you and how two shadows seemed to follow you between classes, how your usual bullies left you alone and so much more. There was a lot you should’ve noticed, but with the pink toad and her helper turning Hogwarts into actual hell, you were far too stressed to focus on others. Stress on uniforms being perfect, staying 8 inches from the opposite sex, doing hypothetical school work instead of actual spells.

While there was a bucket load of stuff you didn’t notice, there were a few things you did notice, like how the Weasley twins paid attention to you during your shared classes. Like the time you got called on by Snape for a potion ingredient and one of the brothers, you assumed it was George, but you didn’t like assuming, slid you a ripped piece of parchment stating the one you forgot, just about saving you from losing house points.

How you caught their attention, you weren’t even sure. You were a Hufflepuff, they were gryffindors, but everyone knew they should’ve been put in Slytherin, judging from the reputation they held up. In the end, it made sense, they were quite brave, especially since they could look Umbrigde in the eyes and cuss her out if she was doing something they weren’t fond of to friends or family. However, they did become fond of you.

They used to see you as a small, stereotypical, soft Hufflepuff but that changed when you stood up against the pink disaster. You caught their eye, you intrigued them and that was a feat in itself. Everyone, except you apparently, could tell the red-headed twins wanted you and no one exactly stopped them from getting what they wanted, which led to their next move.

You just entered the dining hall, text books in arms, and moving across to your yellow themed table to join your friends. You sat in the usual spot, and greeted them with the usual cheery hi and a bright smile. Your group nodded at you, casting a nervous smile and quick hello your way.

You watched the faces of your friends turn pale when the room grew ever so darker and they fled like cockroaches exposed to a light. You looked around at the now empty benches before turning around to check out what the big fuss was. What you say made your own reflection turn pale. Your eyes met red and gold robes before glancing up at two identical, freckled faces.

“H-Hi?” You stammered out, your voice shaky as you fiddled with your own robes. “Um- Can I um- help you?” Your brain was wracking over what you might’ve said to gain the attention of the Weasleys. Oh fuck, was it over what you said to Jordan Lee yesterday? “I-if this is about Lee? Because I was just joking!”

The twins let out a chuckle at your panic before sitting, one on either side of you.

“No, no, this isn’t about that. Lee can take a joke.” The one to your left spoke up. Your eyes frantically bounced between the two red-heads and it dawned on you that you couldn’t tell them apart if your life depended on it.

“Besides, we’d never target you. You’re perfect. We’re just here to see you, dove.” Leftie spoke up, chuckling as he rested his chin on his palm. His blue eyes looked you up and down before glancing at his doppelganger.

“Oh thank Merlin!” You sighed out, your shoulders relaxing slightly. You couldn’t help but think their chuckles were actually quite charming. “T.. Wait, see me?” You could feel your body heating up.

“Godric, I knew we picked a good one.” Leftie spoke up again as Rightie scooted closer to you.

“Hush, mate, don’t give us away that easily.” Rightie was chuckling close to your ear as he wrapped an arm around your waist, scooting you closer.

“Oh, come on, Georgie.” Leftie Fred stated as he also advanced into your personal bubble. “Have a little fun.”

“Just don’t wanna scare him, is all.” George shot you an easy smile. The room was starting to feel like an active volcano to you.

“Right, right, Hufflepuffs scare easily-” Fred’s voice was filled with sass.

“We do not! Don’t you dare fall into that trap!” You pressed a finger into his chest, your face pulled into a sneer. “Hufflepuffs can be just as brave as Gryffindors. I’m sure Cedric and one Dora Tonks proved that very well, wouldn’t you say?”

“Ohhoo, feisty! I hit a nerve.” Fred was smirking now. You should’ve known he would’ve wanted a reaction out of you. Fred was like that; always pushing buttons, trying to piss people off and see the reaction. One could say it was his favorite thing above quidditch, but that might be a stretch.

“Fred, apologize. We’re not here to patronize him, remember?” George smiled, gently patting your head to try to get you to calm you down.

“Alright, alright. Love, I’m sorry. Now between you and me, I don’t really believe someone’s house defines them.” The tall red-head leaned in close to you. Probably too close, but you could see the flicks of green in his eyes. You knew your face was turning bright red.

“Fine. Whatever.” You grumbled out, pushing him back. You turned away, only now remembering the hand around your waist. “Oi, let go.” You gently bapped at his hand away. “And what exactly did you mean by ‘picked the right one’?” You shot Fred a glare.

“Don’t worry about it, muffin.” George grabbed your chin and made you look back at him. “You’ll find out soon enough.” With that, both the twins just.. Left.

They got up and left like they didn’t call you three couple-esc nicknames and fluster the shit out of you. You spent the rest of your lunch mulling over what just happened and barely eating. You were anxious for Potions class to happen.

You had every right to be anxious. Snape had changed everyones seats, mixing up the houses against his better judgement just to separate the two Weasleys. He was convinced that the two trouble makers managed to cheat, even with the none cheating quills and seperate seats during the test.

Anyway, the dark glares the Weasley’s kept shooting toward Snape were terrifying to say the least. Snape had unknowingly moved them away from their price and away from each other. Fred was sat next to some sour Ravenclaw who was forced away from her friend while George was sat next to one of your Hufflepuff friends, who was literally sweating bullets.

You didn’t know the two were fuming with jealousy or feel them glance your way every now and then to make sure the Slytherin sitting next to you didn’t cause you problems or touch you the wrong way. Luckily, you managed to recreate the potion skillfully, even helping the Slytherin every once in a while.

When class finally dismissed after what felt like forever, you gathered your books into arms and began to follow the crowd of students. You could barely get out the door, however. A hand grabbed your arm and pulled you from the crowd. You looked up to see one of the twins grabbing your arm while the other walked behind you. They couldn’t stand seeing you next to that green branded snake anymore.

“Guys?” You looked between them, once again losing track of who was who. When you didn’t get an answer, you spoke up again. “What’s going on?”

“We did mention how we picked you, right?” The one behind you spoke up while the other tightened his grip on your wrist. You nodded your head as the twin in front of you stopped walking. He observed the hall before opening a hidden passageway and dragging you in. “Now that we have privacy we can explain.”

The passageway was dark, except for the few torches that lined the watts. The shadows of the twins loomed over the pale yellow walls, making you feel so, so small. You looked along the arched pathway, an audible gulp heard in the near silence. You jumped back a bit when they took a testing step toward you.

“But what about our other classes?” You stammered out, biting your lip as they took steps toward you. You took one step back for every one they advantage toward you until your back bumped against the wall. “We shouldn’t be late.” You looked back at the bricks your back bumped against, patting it with your palm to make sure you were, in fact, against a wall.

“We can just make up the classes, doll, relax.” One put a hand against the wall by your head, leaning over. “Just listen to us, will ya?”

“Freddie and I have been watching you for a while now.” George spoke up as he leaned in a little himself. Ok, that isn’t creepy at all. “And we’ve decided, well, your ours.”

“..What?” You stared at them before shoving yourself between them and walking down the hallway a little bit. “Excuse me? I’m sorry- I’m yours now?” You put a hand over your chest as the red-heads glanced between each other. “Hold on, let me get this straight.” You clapped your hands together before continuing. “You have been watching me for the past couple of- well, who knows how long and have just decided, out of blue AND without asking me, that I’m just yours?!”

The twins glanced between each other for a second time, before nodding at each other, turning to you and nodding again.

“Yeah, Pretty much.” They spoke in unison, moving their hands in a so-so manner. A wicked grin appeared on both boys, causing you to feel uneasy.

“Hit the nail on the head.” Fred spoke up, turning to his brother.

“Should’ve been a Ravenclaw.” George crossed his arms over his chest.

“Still, pretty sma-”

“You have no right to decide that!” You shouted, hands balled into fists at your side. Both twins snapped their heads to you, their faces barely lit under the light provided by the torches. “I’m a person, ya know, with feelings and opinions and right now, I’m starting to think I don’t you should go fu-” You were cut off by Fred grabbing your neck and pushing you into another wall. You grabbed his wrists, groaning when your head snapped against the brick. He wasn’t squeezing your neck hard enough to choke you, but just to hold her still.

“Finish that sentence, dolly, and you may end up on our hit list.” Fred’s voice was deeper than you’d ever heard before and it was causing panic to flood inside your veins.

“See, (Y/n). When we want something, we get it.” George spoke up, his head popping up over Fred’s shoulder. “And what we want is you.”

“Whether you come with us, be ours and do what we say is up to you.” The man holding you still let out a deep laugh. “And if we can’t persuade you with our.. Reputation, I recommend you just remember one thing,” Fred paused and leaned into your ear, “We can do a lot more damage than that pink toad can.” He gave your neck a squeeze while he spoke, causing your squeak to echo in the empty hall.

“So what do you say, love?” A sinister smirk was across George’s lips. Fred’s grip eased up, allowing you to take in a big breath. You wanted the thumping of your heart to not be in your ears.

“W-Well- I- Uh-” You stammered out. Your brain was trying to figure out the correct response to ‘Hi, we own you now and if you fight back, say goodbye to your future-’. “I-I-I think, um-” Suddenly the hand around your neck was leaving and instead straightening out your uniform.

“Where did our manners go, Georgie?”

“Your right. Mum would kill us for disrespecting someone so soft.”

How do they act like they aren’t threatening you all? How are they acting so calm when Fred’s hand print was surely on your neck?

“Reckon we should give him some time to figure out what side he’s on?” Fred finished fixing your uniform for you and backed up, putting his hands in his pocket.

How were they smiling like they didn’t hurt you?

“Sounds like a splendid idea!” With George ending the conversation, they both left the way they came, leaving you on the cusp of freaking out as they strolled to their next class.

You slid down the wall, a shaky hand going to your neck to feel any kind of damage. You stared blankly at the wall. You mulled over words, sentences, expressions- everything. In the end you had several questions, just like earlier, but one stuck out the most.

Why you?

You weren’t sure what time it was when you left the hidden passageway and, frankly, you didn’t care. You strolled down the hallway, hand rubbing your sore neck as you walked to the Hufflepuff common room. You tapped the barrels the same way you had for the past 7 years and slipped inside. You immediately went up the winding staircase, to your dorm and plopped yourself down on the bed.

You didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. You mostly stared at the ceiling thinking over your options. It felt like you only had two. A; be their whatever and stay with them until they get bored and live in hell or B; say no and live in hell.

Either way, hell was coming for you.

You stared out the window, watching the sun come up. You didn’t want to go to breakfast but you haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday and your stomach was deciding to go to war with your tired brain.

You dragged your body out of bed, heading to the bathroom to do bathroom things and got dressed.. Kinda. You ended up buttoning your shirt wrong and not even bothering with your tie, letting it just dangle awkwardly as you walked to the dinning hall. You were faarr too tired for this shit and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Your tired legs led you to the nearest empty seat at the Hufflepuff table. You shoved the plate away and opted for letting your skull thump against the table. You didn’t bother looking up when you heard a familiar chuckle, instead you just closed your eyes, ignoring the two warm bodies pressing into your sides.

“Aw, come on now, dove. You gotta eat.” A sickeningly sweet tone that you recognized as George’s voice whispered to you.

“I’d rather sleep, thank you.” You spat out, your lips pulled into a grimace.

“Wait, you didn’t sleep?” Fred spoke up, his mouth full, you could tell. “Why didn’t you sleep?”

“Fred, relax. I’m sure he has his reasons.”

“Just stress, guys. Please give me space.” You grumbled out. How the hell do they expect you to sleep with what happened yesterday? The hand print on your neck had faded, thank god, but still. You were surprised when they scooted away from you a smidgen. You should’ve noticed them sitting beside you. Of course they saved you a seat- or did they? Who cares.

“Was it over our offer?”

“Offer? Was it really an offer? How the hell could you consider that an offer?” You lifted your head, shooting one of them a glare before sliding the plate back in front of you and biting into a slice of toast.

“Still so feisty, especially for someone half asleep. Ow!” Fred rubbed his arm after George hit him. “Ok, ok.” Fred fiddled with his fingers before reaching out to gently caress your neck, causing you to flinch away every so slightly. “I’m glad it healed up some. I’m sorry I lost my temper yesterday. I didn’t mean to hurt my little dove.”

“It’s, um.. It’s ok?” Of course your statement was more of a question. It wasn’t ok that he nearly choked you out against the wall, but at least he apologized. You couldn’t help but smile a little when he smiled brightly at you. You didn’t want to admit his smile was cute.

“So did you decide?” George spoke up, his head tilted when you turned to look at him.

“No.. I.. I need more time.” You turned back to your plate, gulping quietly. You went back to eating, trying to get rid of the small bubbles of anxiety in your tummy. The flip flopping of the twins personalities had your head spinning. Maybe they were only being nice for appearances and would beat the shit out of you later. You ate as much as you could handle, hoping it would counter the sleep your brain was begging for, instead it only seemed to make you more tired.

You let out a small huff when one twin wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side. He gently directed your head to lay against his shoulder, only confusing you more. You opened your mouth to question him, but he interrupted you.

“Nap. I’ll wake you up for class.” His voice was soft. Seriously, what the fuck? You licked your lips anxiously. You tried to fight it, but his warm body and your full belly dragged your eyelids down.

You were woken by loud chatting and someone shaking your shoulder. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light before rubbing your eyes and stretching. You looked around, realizing you were in transfiguration, your first class of the day. You furrowed your brows before looking to your side and seeing George next to you.

“Good morning, muffin. How did you sleep?” He smiled at you, patting down any stray hairs on your head.

“Good, I guess.” Your voice was rough and scratchy, showing how out you’d been. “How did I-”

“Georgie here decided it’d be better to give you a few extra minutes of sleep instead of waking you up.” Fred turned around in his seat, shooting you a classic Weasley Half Smile.

“Oh.. Thank you.” You casted the younger twin your own small smile just before McGonagall came in and started going on a long tangent to herself about students being inappropriate attire in the halls, making you question what the poor witch had seen.

Class mulled over as it always did, slower than a snail racer. While McGonagall was going on about the many uses of transfiguring a log into a tiny hut to hide from shelter, you were busy in your head. Suddenly the twins weren’t as bad as everyone said, but.. But at the same time they were worse. You were brought back to reality when Fred slipped you a note. When you opened the folded paper, you covered your mouth to stop yourself from giggling. It was a moving drawing of McGonagall as a cat, all fluffed up in the rain, running in a circle trying to avoid the droplets.

Before you knew it, you were in potions with Snape again, but it was different this time. Fred and George had done something, apparently, leading the three of you allowed to sit next to each other once again. George repeated instructions to you without judgement while Fred showed you the proper way to add the ingredients, and of course they made you laugh with cheesy jokes while doing it all. The three of you ended up making a pretty stable potion by the end of the hour.

The day went on relatively uneventfully after your classes finished up and you soon found yourself all but passing out in your dorm room after dinner. As days passed you grew closer to the red-headed beaters and soon forgot the mishap that happened when they cornered you all but a week ago. So you gave them your answer, not that you had much of a choice.

The twins were nothing but sweet to you after that. Fred would carry your books between classes, even if you told him not too. He’d help you finish long assignments and take the blame for your failed potion projects if it was needed. George would leave small gifts on your pillow, usually treats they swiped from Honeydukes. He’d remind you that you are, in fact, human and need to rest after hours of studying.

Everything was going great! You three were giggling and joking, occasionally pushing each other, trying to knock the other off their chair, disturbing the piece in the library when it came to a halt. It came to a halt when a fellow hufflepuff girlie literally wiggled between you and one of the freckled quidditch players. She went on to ask for help about some magical creature care homework she’d gotten. Before you could answer, the twins swept you out of the library, grumbling about how their mom would give them an earful for hurting a girl, so Ginny would have to do it.

“Oh, babe, no! Not again.” You spoke up, trying to pull your arms free. “Come on! No need to be jealous.” You giggled. Yup, the truly had you wrapped around their fingers.

“But dove, we’re just-” They spoke at the same time, turning to look at you.

“Trying to keep me safe, I know! She just wanted help!” You smiled at them, standing on your tippy toes to give them a short kiss on the nose. “Relax, guys. If I feel uncomfortable, I’ll tell you.”

“Will you?” George asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course! Have I ever lied to you before?”

“No.. Alright. We trust you, muffin.” Fred pressed a hand against your lower back, shooting you a sweet smile. “Now, how about you scuttle ahead, hmm? Head off to the Gryffindor common room; password is chalk dust. We’ll meet you right there.”

“Are you sure?” You looked between them but let out a tiny gasp when Fred gently pushed you forward with the hand on your back.

“Of course, (Y/n). We’ll be right behind you!” George spoke up, the usual sugar coated grin across his face. With that, you nodded your head, practically skipping down the hallway. You were oblivious to the dark glare the twins shot the Hufflepuff girl who awkwardly excited the library before heading to find their little sister. You should’ve noticed when Ginny came over to them with some bandaged knuckles and a small cut on her lip the next day, but you didn’t. You were too wrapped up in the sugar quills George gave you that night and the cute compliment filled note Fred left by your wand on your bedside table.

Honestly, the Weasley Twins had you wrapped around their finger. They were wild individuals who always got what they wanted and no one could stop them. They had their ways, some painful, some humiliating, and no one fought against them, not even you.

#fred wealsey x male reader #george weasley x male reader #fred weasley x male reader x george weasley #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #dark wizards #dark fred weasley #dark george weasley #dark weasleys #hp imagine #hp x male reader #male reader #x male reader #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

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