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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.

Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…

Well, it was okay. For about a month.

Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—

Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.

Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.

Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).

A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?

“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”

“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”

Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”

Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”

Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.

“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”

Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.

“Is that a kid?”

“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.

“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.

“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”

“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.

“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”

“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.

He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.

But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.

That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.

“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”

That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.

“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.

She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”

“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.

“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”

“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.

Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“

“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“

“Language, Hood.”

“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”

“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”

“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”

Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”

Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.

All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.

“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”

Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.

“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”

She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.

“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.

“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.

Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?

“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.

She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?

And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.

And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.

What the hell?

“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”

“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.

Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”

“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list (I remembered it this time!)

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #soulmate-game #platonic jasonette

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bastillewolf · 4 years

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Shinigami Eyes (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: After you distastefully kill Corpse in a game of Among Us, he wants you to make it up to him and invites you to come over for the week.

Notes: Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I’ve never gotten this many notes before. I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave an ask if you want to? I can’t promise I have time to do them, but I’ll pick out a couple.

Also, I might rewrite this. I kinda rushed it because I wanted to finish it by tonight, but there will be a final and third chapter to this afterwards. Please do let me know what you think.

Tag list CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Pt. II

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

You were teamed up with Sean.

Your fist violently slammed down on the desk. “Goddammit! I don’t want to be impostor anymore! This game has no compassion for my poor nerves.” It was the third time in a row now, and you were really craving to do normal tasks now without all the scheming. “Fuck it, I don’t care if they kill me. I’m just gonna do my thing without thinking about it.”

You decide to follow Toast for a bit to watch him do some task. You kill him in Laboratory. You vent back to Launchpad and take your time walking towards MedBay while the kill button restores. You meet up with Corpse, and follow him while pretending to do wires in the Y-hallway. You watched the green bar go up, and continued. Sabotaging and then fixing lights, you made sure your place with Corpse was settled. Then the body of Lily was reported.

As you expected, Corpse easily vouched for you as he’d seen you do a task. The round was skipped, though Rae was sussed for ‘chasing’ Sean, by his own words.

“Corpse, you’ve grown weak,” you muttered to chat.

You were in Greenhouse, and decided it would be best to kill him there and sabotage Reactor. “Sorry baby, but I can’t keep following you around.” You quickly set off Reactor and murdered him in front of the plants. “Your blood shall keep the plants hydrated.” You did an evil laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, though.”

You vented down to MedBay and as you walked out you met up with Rae. She’d be the vouch who would confirm you weren’t anywhere near Greenhouse. “I’ll just have to fix my own sabotage so they’ll never suspect me.” You helped her with the handprint, and noted Sykkuno and Felix being there. Sean sabotaged lights, you killed Sykkuno, and ran out to follow Lily into Laboratory. Felix reported the body.

“Holy shit,” Rae gasped. So far, five people had died. You only needed to kill one more person. “It was Felix!”

“Wait, what?” the man in question asked. “I was fixing Reactor!”

She mentioned that only you, Sykkuno, Felix and herself had been there and that you’d helped her do handprint. “Sykkuno must have fixed it, and then you killed him!”

Sean asked if you’d seen anything.

“No, the lights were out. I followed Rae into Laboratory after the scan.” Your voice didn’t tremble or raise, a tactic you’d taken up from the best lair in the group. Well, the one who was now dead. Oops. “I haven’t seen Felix this entire game, though.”

He was evidently at a loss for words, so the group was quick to vote for him.

Pewds was ejected.

Victory.

You thanked Sean for a good game who was laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you did Corpse like that! Poor guy!”

“I deadass thought you were innocent,” Corpse replied, “I’m hurt.”

“Why do you still sound dark and menacing when you say something like that?!”

You agreed with Sean heartily, “He’s just salty I’ve bested him at his own game.”

“Hey now, no need to actually insult me.”

The group laughed. You decided to call it for the night, right before Corpse did the same.”

***

He was calling you again. “What is it this time, you salty?”

“Salty? Nah, never,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

“Then why you calling?”

“What, I can’t call my friends after playing a nice round of Among Us?”

“Not when you lost the game and you call the person who you lost to. Kinda sus, dude.”

“Alright, maybe a little salty.” You smirked.

“Aw, you need me to make it up to you?”

He laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

A bunch of thoughts, most not rated PG-13, crossed your mind. You were suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable. This was probably just something innocent, which got twisted in your fucked-up mind. You shrugged, “Uh… I don’t know.”

“I got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Come over this week. You said you needed a break, right?”

“That sounds more like you’re doing me a favour instead of me making it up to you.”

“I don’t have any friends. You’d be making it up to me by being the first physical person here in years. I usually don’t invite people over.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. So, you don’t consider me to be your friend after all?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Tell me that again when my presence suddenly brightens your life making you not want to get rid of me, ever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

You walk through the gates following a hoard of people, all the while still feeling drowsy from not getting any sleep during your flight. At least you didn’t have any turbulence and landed safely. Glancing around here and there with no result, you figured Corpse would be waiting outside, until you spotted a figure clad in black a little ends away by the escalator. You were glad you were still awake enough to have found him, because he appeared to silently linger halfway behind a fern.

At least, you hoped it was him. The only indications were his clothes, mask and dark hair. You saw him run a hand through it, and identified the chipped black nail polish and familiar rings. Oh yea, that was him alright.

He seemed to be paying more attention to the floor until he saw two feet appear in his line of sight. “Hey,” you awkwardly greeted. A bit taken a back, he replied, “Oh, wow. Hey.” A mask was covering the bottom of his face, but as far as you could see his eyes were a very dark shade.

“Wow?” you repeated. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yea, sorry. It’s a compliment.” You held your elbow out in a safe-distance gestured hello, but he shrugged you off. “You’re gonna be staying with me anyways.” Suddenly in a daze, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and instantly hugged him back. His baggy sweater felt warm and soft to the touch, and strands of hair tickled your face. You very much tried to repress your smile and blush, but how could you? Hugging someone wasn’t supposed to feel this good. When he pulled back he reached down to take your suitcase from you. “I don’t own a car, is it okay if we take a cab?”

“Y-Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “But it’s on me. Same with food and stuff.” “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “No, you’re letting me stay with you and a hotel would’ve been a lot more expensive than this. It’s my treat.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He gave you a look and even with the mask you could tell he was smirking underneath it.

It’s about half an hour drive to his apartment complex, and it’s rather nice. “All that YouTube money paying off, huh?” you asked in amusement. “You’d know,” he replied. You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the stairs yourself, which he silently shook his head at, until after a few flights he noticed you struggling and settled on carrying the thing in between the two of you. “How many clothes did you bring?” “Oh, it’s mostly filled with bricks I might need to throw at your head.” He laughed at that.

His apartment was simple, but cosy. “Home sweet home,” he said, almost sarcastically. You furrowed your brow at him. “I’m sure you could’ve had it a lot worse.” He reluctantly agreed.

He helped you set down your luggage in what appeared to be his bedroom, where the curtains were still closed and the black bedsheets fresh. He had a few pieces of fanart up on his wall, and some on his closet. You turned to him and gave him a look. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

He quickly shook his head, “You’re not sleeping there. If you won’t let me sleep on the couch I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he murmured. “What?” “Nothing.”

He suggested playing video games as you were both too tired to do anything else. You’d landed quite late yet were still confused about what time it actually was. Flying is weird. You hopped onto his couch and grabbed a controller.

He sat down next to you, but suddenly seemed tenser than before.

“You okay? You can just go to sleep if you want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I don’t sleep a lot. It’s fine.”

You didn’t stop looking at him, though. He was still wearing that mask. “You don’t have to take it off, if you don’t want to. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that, I just…” He took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected him to take it off then and there. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, controller barely held by your numb hands.

“Disappointed?”

It was as if he was expecting you to make a face or something, but you didn’t give him anything, except for a blatant “Nope” and an “Are we gonna play now or what?”

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

You shrugged, and looked him up and down again. “You’re kind of what I imagined you to be.”

“What’s that?”

“Handsome.”

Neither of you could stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You eventually forced him to sleep in his own bed, even going as far as to shove him into the room and keep your weight against the door so he couldn’t get out, so he eventually relented. “Inviting you here was a mistake.” “How come? All I’ve done so far is look after you!” “You’re a nightmare.”

You mostly stayed in for the week, which you didn’t mind at all. Being in such a closed-off environment with someone you got along with was nice. He attempted to get you to lift the weights in his room and succeeded for around fifteen minutes until you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot. You ordered take-out from his favourite restaurant, watched horror movies until you adapted to his sleeping schedule because you were too scared to close your eyes now, and even streamed a bit together with your friends.

“Wait, is Corpse with you?” Rae had asked.

“No, I’m at Corpse’s. He’s sitting across from me so I can’t see his screen but we’re gonna have to share the Discord unless you want to hear an echo.”

“Ah, man! You got to see his face, too?” Sykkuno whined.

“Stop simping, Sykkuno. You get enough attention from him already.”

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Corpse said.

“Huh?”

It was probably a good thing that you got teamed up again, because you could indeed start to see his hands shaking right as the word ‘impostor’ appeared on the screen. You reached over and stroked it with your thumb. He smiled gratefully back at you.

“Just please,” he pleaded later that day, “Sleep in the bed. If only for one night.”

“No. I’ve heard about and now seen your sleeping habits. If you take the couch you’re never going to get any sleep.” You made a real effort to show him how comfortable you were – even though your back had started to hurt already after the first night – by crawling underneath your blanket and rubbing your head into the soft pillow. He snorted.

Next thing, you feel yourself being lifted by an arm underneath your knees and one around your back. “Corpse! Put me the fuck down!” you shrieked. You knew he lifted weights, but how the hell did he still have the energy as an insomniac? He ungracefully dropped you onto the matrass and turned the lights off. “Good night.”

You quickly got hold of the back of his hoodie before he could leave and pulled. He fell down next to you with a low huff. “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed. But only if you sleep here too.”

“I snore.”

“Don’t care.”

For some reason, there wasn’t any tension or awkwardness. You were comfortable, and the soft rhythm of his breathing seemed to soothe you. He called out your name, to see if you were still awake.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time.”

This was how you would spend the rest of the nights, and whenever either of you woke up suddenly curled up around the other, you didn’t mention it or move away from it. It was the first time in years Corpse got a few nights of complete rest.

#corpse husband #Corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #youtube #youtube fanfiction #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body.

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm.

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered.

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.”

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?”

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.”

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.”

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month.

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair.

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly.

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.”

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head.

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.”

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.”

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.”

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die.

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room.

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground.

“Who is it?” You asked.

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered.

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.”

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled.

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.”

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.”

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.”

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.”

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.”

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?”

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.”

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom.

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well.

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #will graham x you #hannibal x will #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #will graham x reader #will graham #the sommelier #hannigram #hannigram x you #hannigram x reader #aftercare #fluff #freddie lounds

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ratmonky · 3 years

Text

Tangible Phantom

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: non-con, invisible smexy time, stalking, breeding, mild gore

AO3 Link

The internet was a magnificent invention of humankind. It made everything easier. At the same time, it was accessible to almost anyone and it brought people together.

There were so many things one could find by typing some letters on a browser and with a click of a mouse.

Whether it be cute animal videos you could share with your friends, porn to watch late at night as your fingers slid inside your panties beneath the sheets, or disturbing images of people who had or were taking their last breath. You could find it all on the internet.

Morbid curiosity led you to the furthest parts of the internet like on strange websites where you could find pictures of deformed bodies.

There wasn’t any explanation on why they had been deformed like that but their death cause was all the same, heart failure.

Although you weren’t anything more than a normal citizen, you felt like what you were doing was wrong. Looking at those images and scrolling down to see more of the distorted faces of what used to be people who had a family, a life, and goals that you would never know about should have been enough to make you click away. Yet, you always found yourself logging into your laptop every night to check if there were more.

It wasn’t illegal nor it was hurting anyone. It was just… unethical. Somewhat felt like you were feeling guilty of what happened even though you had nothing to do with any of these people.

Nevertheless, it made you wonder if you would feel the same way if those people were someone you knew. Or if it were you.

Pfft.

As if that would ever happen.

~~~

It was a late night when you were walking the same route to your place with your mind clouded by what to eat once you got home. The streets were rather silent at this time of the night, no cars passed or a single soul was outside, so the only noise was your footsteps that echoed in the empty street.

Although you were only about a full two minutes away from arriving at your place, you suddenly stopped in shock when you saw a dark figure sitting in the dark under the bridge you had to walk through.

Alone at night, standing stiffly in the dark, looking desperately down at your phone screen and then to the man, you considered turning back and walking to the nearest bus station. You could stay at your friend’s place again rather than take your chance to walk past someone who looked like a predator waiting for its prey.

You considered calling one of your friends and being on the phone with them until you arrived home. Decidedly, you called your friend’s phone but they didn’t answer. If it was them calling you, you would answer right away, they knew how you didn’t call anyone without a reason.

While the phone was ringing again, you kept muttering under your breath about how much you were going to yell at them once they answered you but they never picked up.

Your other friend wasn’t in town and you could never call your friend to ask if her brother could escort you to your place again, you only made everyone question your sanity when you asked for favors like that.

You made everyone around you uncomfortable, they think you were out of your mind. Why were you so scared of walking past a possibly homeless man?

This was why most of your friends hated you, this was why they didn’t answer your calls anymore.

Huffing in annoyance and disappointment, you put your phone against your ear to pretend to be on the phone with your father as you started walking again.

The man noticed you, you saw his head moving when the sound of your footsteps alarmed him of your presence, all of his attention was on you now.

You tried ignoring the instincts that told you to turn back and run away.

It was probably just a homeless man.

There was no way that he would try to do anything to you.

You were just overreacting like you always did.

You refused to acknowledge the man’s existence as you increased your speed to pass him as soon as possible and go on with your night like you weren’t already having a panic attack.

The man was doing nothing but watching you intently, he hadn’t moved.

Yeah, you were just overreacting before.

“Yes, I’ll be home soon, dad! I’m walking!” you started basically yelling, hoping that your acting was believable.

Maybe not.

The man got up, blocking your path.

Startled, your hand gripped tighter on your purse and you started yelling to your phone. “Dad! Can you come outside the building and wait for me?! I’m right around the corner once I pass the bridge!”

You were scared to look at the man. As if you didn’t notice him getting up, you ignored his presence and tried to walk around him but he stepped to the side to block your way again.

This time, your lips started trembling in fear, you actually were believing you were talking to your father. “Dad, I’m scared, please come get me!”

“I can see that you’re not on the phone,” a husky voice said. “Your phone screen is lit up.”

You shrieked upon him talking to you. When his hand reached for your face, you jerked away and took a couple of steps back.

“Don’t touch me!” you screamed, your eyes finally meeting his eyes that were sparkling with vicious intent. “I’ll call the police!”

Ignoring your threat, he took a step closer towards you which only made you panic more.

You looked for an exit. To your right was a concrete wall and to your left was the large sewer gate. Running past the man was impossible.

“Stay away from me!” You turned on your heels to make a bolt towards the sewers but the man was faster than you. He grabbed you by your hair and pulled your back flush against his chest.

You started to scream as you struggled in the man’s hold. It was barely midnight, someone would hear your screams for help.

Normally an attacker would chicken out if their victim was struggling and screaming this much but your attacker seemed to not have a care in the world if he would get caught or not.

As he started dragging you towards the sewer gate, you shook your body violently, kicking helplessly in the air and yelling on top of your lungs.

He started shushing you and clapped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet while proceeded to drag you further inside the sewers.

This was the end, wasn’t it?

~~~

On a regular night, Mahito usually read his book to the sounds of the rats or the water splashing sounds in the sewers. The steady and faint noises were enough to lull him to sleep but tonight his peace was disturbed.

A woman was screaming for her life. Something he heard more often than regular since it was usually him who was the cause of their screams. This woman’s screams were echoing in the sewers, being muffled by something as a man’s voice kept shushing.

Out of curiosity, he put his book down and walked to the source of the loud noises.

It took him barely a minute to find you and your attacker. The man had you under him, his chest pressing on your back as he was hastily pulling his pants down.

“Oh, how amusing,” Mahito chuckled, getting closer to watch your face stained with tears.

He crouched right next to your face, humming cutely. “You’re quite adorable,” he said, his hand reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Really my type.”

“Help!”

Your sudden yell made Mahito pull his hand back. Whew, you had startled him.

“Nobody will hear you,” the man assured with a breathy laugh, his hand rubbing guiding his cock between your thighs.

Mahito pouted his lips and tilted his head to the side. “It’s no fun when I’m left out, you know.”

The man was busy pulling your panties to the side.

“Please, please, please don’t!”

“Don’t ignore me,” Mahito furrowed his brows and tapped on the man’s shoulder.

You were still struggling under the man’s weight when he suddenly stopped moving. With a burst of an adrenaline rush, you pushed yourself up from the concrete and threw your attacker tumbling back.

Almost immediately you got up on your feet and swung your purse at the man, hitting him in the face with your eyes closed shut in fear.

The impact made a splash sound as if you had hit something soggy. What? Your eyes hesitantly opened and it took you a long moment to register what you were seeing.

“Wow.” Mahito stood beside you with a smile on his face. “He looks nice like that, don’t you think?”

You dropped your purse.

Your mouth opened to scream but what were you going to gain from it? You closed it back again.

It looked unreal, nothing like the photos you had seen online. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t.

“Heeeeyyyy~” Mahito stood in front of you, waving a hand to your face. “I don’t even get thanks?”

The man’s disfigured body and face were covered in blood. The sight was enough to cause trauma and make any normal person collapse on their knees, heaving. His body was twisted to the point you couldn’t tell if he was a human or not.

What you were seeing wasn’t human.

You couldn’t tell if it was a human.

Your brain disconnected it from your mind that he was a real, living, and breathing person only a couple of seconds ago.

The fact that you couldn’t even process what you were seeing right in front of you made you burst into a peal of hysterical laughter.

Mahito took a step back. “Ah, you’re one of those who goes insane…” He shrugged, watching you lose your sanity was fun too. His eyes landed on the panties which were halfway down on your thighs that you hadn’t even bothered to pull up and then his stare landed on your unevenly hoisted skirt. A grin spread on his face.

Your laughter died down quickly and sobbing replaced it. You couldn’t stop your tears. Your vision was getting blurry from your tears and you tried to revive your brain to think of what to do next.

Could you just leave this man here?

Even though he attacked you with full intention to rape you, it… it was wrong to leave him like this.

He was dead. Disfigured. Not human.

There was nothing you could do. Whatever caused this man to turn into this inhuman thing could have happened to you.

You felt a shiver run down your spine and up your shoulders. As if the cool evening breeze had hands, the chilly air caressed your skin.

A quiet sob left your lips and you lifted your hand to wipe your tears but stopped when something firm pressed on your back.

“You’re definitely my type,” Mahito snickered, pulling his hand back.

With a shriek you jumped forward, whipping your head around to look behind you. There was nothing.

You had to be going insane.

You put a hand against your forehead and looked around the sewers. The most logical thing to do was to leave. This rapist deserved to rot here, you didn’t care. You wouldn’t care. You knew you couldn’t care less.

“Heeey~~ I’m Mahito, your savior.” He poked your nose and you itched where he had touched you. “You should thank me for saving youuuu!”

Once you got home to your bed, you would browse on the websites to stare at disfigured humans like him. This was nothing. You had seen worse on the internet. You didn’t care.

Mahito crouched down to open your purse. He looked around your stuff and tried to find something that had your name on it but it was futile.

You weren’t going to wake up tomorrow and think about its face.

“Hey, what’s your name?” he asked.

No, you weren’t going to remember about this thing the day after tomorrow.

“Hellloooo~~ What’s your name?”

Definitely, you weren’t going to think about this thing whenever you closed your eyes.

“What’s your name?” Mahito put his hand on your shoulder. You reacted to his touch and flinched but didn’t answer him. “Ugh! This is the third time I’m asking, sweetheart.”

You were being paranoid, that was for sure.

It felt like ghostly hands were touching you.

“Let’s see how far we can go before you see me.” Mahito grabbed you by your shoulders and pushed you down.

Fear came rushing back and you started screaming. Something you couldn’t see had tackled you on the cold concrete. This wasn’t a figment of your imagination, this was real.

“You know, a friend of mine said that humans can see curses when they’re in a life or death situation.” His large hands massaged your shoulders as he spoke. “I wanna see if we can have fun together even when you can’t see me.”

Your breathing became uneven and you started struggling against the unknown force holding you down.

Mahito moved his hands to your shoulder blades and slid them lower until he grabbed you by your hips. You gasped when he pressed himself against you. “Oh, so you can feel this .” He slowly grinded against you.

Your hands balled up to fists and you pressed your forehead against the cold concrete. There was something on top of you, something firm and thick was pressing on you. You were rocking back and forth with a very familiar feeling of a cock on your ass.

Mahito’s grinding became harder to get a reaction out of you. He pushed his growing clothed erection against your ass to explicitly stimulate the movement of fucking you.

You bit your lips to hold back a moan. You hadn’t gone insane yet, there was something humping you. There was a small moment where you tried to move and crawl away from this entity but your body became frozen when you felt your skirt was getting hiked up.

“You’re so cute~” He pulled his own pants down. “Very pretty.”

The weight on top of you disappeared, taking the opportunity you tried crawling away but your body got flipped around.

Now, you were facing the ceiling of the sewers with nobody in sight yet there were hands fondling your tits.

“Stop,” you whimpered. “Please.”

Mahito smirked, getting his face awfully close to yours. He let his tongue loll out from his mouth and licked your lips.

You let out a startled scream, you tried kicking your invisible attacker but it was useless to even try. You couldn’t fight something you couldn’t see.

“Mm, you taste so sweet,” he whispered. His lips pressed against yours experimentally and bit your bottom lip. You reacted by turning your face to the side.

Boring.

Having had pulled his pants down before, Mahito grabbed his fully erect cock. He stroked it from the base to the pink tip glistening with precum as he relished on your view.

“I really wanna know the name of my cute new doll.” He used a free hand to spread your legs, although you tried fighting back, he quickly outpowered you. He pouted when you didn’t say anything regarding what he had said.

“Please,” you whispered, starting to pray for whoever was listening. Your hand went between your legs to cover yourself but it stopped midway when you felt something firm press and move against your clit. An involuntary moan left your lips.

Mahito chuckled at your reaction and tapped his cock on your clit before dragging the tip between your folds to cover it with your juices. “You’re wet only because of me, right?” he asked, smirking.

Your lips parted as he lined himself up on your entrance. He waited until your tense body relaxed and shoved his cock inside you in one go once he caught you off guard.

You let out another moan but it got muffled by Mahito’s lips. While you were tensing and yelping because of the girth of his cock stretching you out, he was snaking his tongue inside your mouth with dark amusement.

Whether it be because of fear or pleasure, your gummy walls were clenching around his cock. It was more than enough to let Mahito know that he could move now.

Pulling his hips back and face back, he slammed into you abruptly to force a moan out of you. However, you didn’t make a sound. He looked down at you to notice how you were pressing your lips together, refusing to make it fun.

He sighed but didn’t let it ruin the mood. Instead, he frantically started fucking you. His hips surged forward with frenzy, he was whispering praises but you heard none of them.

Your pussy was being forcefully stretched by something thick and firm, you didn’t know exactly what it was but you also knew. You just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

It moved in and out of your pussy, stroking only the right spots and massaging your gummy walls enticingly. Your juices were gushing out of your hole that was being fucked, making disgustingly wet sounds.

One of your hands went to your pussy, unable to fight back the entity, you tried blocking it with your hand from ravishing you.

A sharp thrust of his hips was all it took to make you squirm and fall back on the concrete.

Mahito put a hand on your clit and started rubbing tight circles on your nub as he continued his animalistic pace to hammer into your pussy.

Arching your back, you moaned. Your pussy was spasming around his cock, begging for more.

“At least your body is honest.” Mahito watched you convulse in pleasure with a chuckle. He pushed your legs up to your chest and began pounding deeper in your pussy.

Your eyes rolled up, hands trying to grab onto something to steady yourself but there was nothing on the concrete. This was it, you were close.

“Do you think a cursed spirit and a human can make a baby?” His pace slackened, your clenching walls had caught him by surprise. He chuckled before languidly answering his own question. “Let’s try and see, yeah? Whaddaya say, sweetie?”

You quivered when his cock kissed your cervix. Your mouth gaped open in a silent moan as your orgasm shook you to your core.

“Haha, you look so needy and dumb!” Mahito’s cock twitched inside you, he groaned loudly. He tried holding himself back and stealing a couple more thrusts into your pussy before the fun ended but his thrusts had started becoming shaky. His hips lurched forward one last time, pushing as far as he could to spill his seed deep inside your womb and filled your pussy until it overflowed.

Mahito pulled back and held your hips up to hold his seed inside you without letting another drop go to waste. This was going to be one of his experiments, he decided with a sickening smile on his face.

You were far too exhausted to feel anything other than the warmth that filled your tummy.

The rest… was a blur.

~~~

Although what happened that night was supposed to be traumatic, nowadays; you found yourself feeling a lot safer walking home at night. Whenever someone followed you or someone with malicious intent tried getting near you, there was a guardian angel that stopped them with a small price of you letting it indulge in your slick heat.

#i suck at writing endings but whateva #tell me what you think #i literallt wrote this after i posted that commission fic and just finished it #mahito x reader

327 notes · View notes

haetzro · 3 years

Text

.moonlit pussy

genre: smut

word count: 1.6k

warnings: smut, edging, unprotected sex (always wear protection!!!), explicit.

you knew what you were getting yourself into. renjun rarely got mad, always keeping his aggression at bay, not wanting to do anything brash, so you knew what you were getting into.

yeah maybe it’s a bit petty to make renjun jealous cause he was paying less attention to you, but desperate times cause for desperate measures, no?

you had spent the day with renjun and his friends and let's just say he wasn’t happy. With you being overly sweet to jeno and cooing at jaemin second to start was a bit of an irritance, but renjun wouldn't be angry at that. you knew he wouldn’t. so that’s why you and chenle were flirting with each other, your best friend catching on quickly to your goal and immediately helping you, a smile quirking onto your face when you caught renjun sucking in a breath or poking his tongue on his cheek. he was sure to catch onto your goal, and you both knew the outcome of this.

he finally reached his limit when you sat on chenle’s lap for the movie, not taking his eyes off you for five minutes.

“yeah, i think it’s time for me and y/n go. it’s getting late, and we have classes tomorrow. right babe?”

you send renjun a small smile, biting your tongue from screaming out a loud yes. “yeah, just gimmie a second i forgot my coat in the kitchen.” renjun’s smile is stiff as you and him say bye to the guys, chenle sending you a large grin which you reciprocated behind renjun’s back.

as you were walking into the kitchen, you feel renjun’s intense gaze on your back, making you smile in anticipation.

“uh, hold on i can’t find my—”

“coat?”

you look back at your boyfriend, who is holding up your fur coat in between his two fingers.

“babe, if you had it the whole time why wouldn’t you just give it to me.”

you cross your arms as renjun walks towards you, feigning annoyance. your boyfriend gives you a small smile, handing you your jacket, while leaning into you.

“you may think i’m stupid my love, but i’m far from that. when we get home, i pray you realize we’re doing anything but sleeping, for tonight i’m putting a whore like you in your fucking place.” you squirm as you feel renjun’s hot breath on your ear, looking back at him as you bite your bottom lip, a gentle smile on his face yet his eyes way darker thank you remember last.

“now, let’s go home.”

“no!”

you cry for what feels like the hundredth time that night, your cunt pulsing harshly as your boyfriend rips yet another orgasm from you.

his eyes are heavy with darkness as he watches you sob and whine, feeling heavily pleased with your current situation. “what’s the matter, my love? what’s with the aggression?” you whimper pathetically, body shivering from renjun’s fingers stroking your stomach and thighs, obviously ignoring the burning heat between your legs.

“please...please.”

renjun quirks an eyebrow at your pleas, hair falling in front of his moonlit face, most certainly amused at you.

“what’s with the sudden change of attitude, bub? from what i remember you were being a pathetic slut whoring around with all my friends.” he chuckles in between, before shoving his three fingers into your soaking cunt, earning a loud squeal from you “see i knew you were a cock loving whore, but wow, that was quite a lot. i’m sure you must be satisfied by now. i mean, you got what you wanted, am i wrong?”

a sob rips from your throat, as you feel your orgasm building up harshly.

“no, no! please, only want your cock. just wanted attention! please don’t—” you wail as you feel renjun pull his fingers out of cunt once more, making you thrash around while you sob.

“you don’t fucking tell me what i can or can’t do to you, am i clear?” you could only cry more, feeling at loss with your building orgasm, breath ragged making you feel out of loop.

renjun only watched silently, before getting off the bed to look for something. he brings back his belt, while looking at your tear ridden face. “hands up, don’t try any funny business.” you weakly bring your hands up above your head, letting out small sniffles.

renjun wraps his belt around your wrists harshly, checking to see any uncomfort in your face.

“remember your safe word?” you nod meekly, staring up at your the man above you.

renjun scowls slightly, before asking with more force, pulling at the belt.

“do you remember or not?”

“yes sir.”

“good. spread your legs.”

you spread your legs, slightly wincing as you take in the sticky slick between your legs. you don’t have enough time to think about the mess between your legs, before you catch renjun putting your vibrator between your legs. your eyes widen before looking up at your boyfriend before you, who only gives you a small smirk.

“any complaints, baby, and you won’t be cumming at all”

before you can even process his words, renjun presses the vibrators remote, obviously putting it on the third highest.

“oh fuck.”

the lower half of your body trembles, and you can feel the tears in your eyes build up once more. you bite your lip, trying to process the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

renjun, who was watching from across the bed, notices. he scoffs before turning up the vibrator once more, smirking as he hears the high squeal you let out, even more pleased at your trembling legs.

“renjun please, please!”

he doesn’t move from his space for a few moments, taking in your sobs and gasps, before getting up from his space and moving in between your thighs, watching as you were practically gushing from your heat.

“look at how wet you are baby. it’s so pretty.”

it was pretty. with the moon being the only light source in you and renjun’s room, it made your pussy look sparkly.

you could only whine, as you were a blubbering mess over the fascinated man. your breath is stuck in your throat as you feel renjun move the vibrator up and down your folds, occasionally pressing against your clit.

the burn in your stomach was becoming to much to bear, and you didn’t think you could go through another ripped off orgasm.

“renjun! i can’t, please, i need to— oh!”

renjun still keeps moving the vibrator for the next two seconds, before he removes it once more.

you tremble violently, while you let out a cry.

renjun turns off the vibrator, while you sob underneath him, before holding his dick at your entrance. he rubs your folds with his dick teasingly, earning some mewls from you. you look back up at him with your teary eyes, and see your boyfriends eyes darken more than they did last.

“please…”

he smiles at you sinisterly, almost as though he’s mocking you.

“you’re so fucking pathetic. you put an act up because, what, you couldn’t handle having the attention you get? you’re such a fucking slut. can’t go on without getting cock, can she?” you shake your head with the little strength you had “only wan’ your cock.”

he cocks an eyebrow up, an amused glint in his eyes.

“my cock, huh. do you even fucking deserve it, kitten?”

you mewl at the pet name, before nodding your head enthusiastically, the leftover tears in your falling down your cheeks.

“please. promise i’ll be a good girl.”

renjun smiles at you, before easing into you gently, causing you to gasp. fuck he could’ve given you a warning. you both groan as renjun bottoms out, taking time to adjust to one another.

“you ok?” you nod at him, moaning lightly as you feel him twitch in you.

renjun moves back, the tip of his dick being the only thing inside you, before he rams back into you roughly, removing any air you had left in you.

you squeal and sob, letting out little yelps here and there, renjun cursing from above you, obviously just as affected as you were, your walls pulsing repeatedly on his cock, not relenting at all.

“can any of the boys fuck you this good, huh? can they make you feel as good as i fucking do?”

you could barely answer, loud cries escaping your throat as renjun fucks you with absolute vigor, hitting every type of spot in you. he was so deep, you were sure you could feel his dick in your stomach if you were coherent enough to look down and not just think about his cock and his name only.

you could feel the same burn building inside you, except it was different and more urgent.

“oh fuck fuck fuck.”

you let out, squeezing harshly on your boyfriends cock, who only groans loudly above you.

you wail, squeezing your hands into fists as you feel yourself teetering over an edge.

“renjun, i— fuck.”

“wanna cum baby? go on.”

you scream as you let go on renjun’s command, and squirt uncontrollably over his cock, back arching off the bed.

“fuck.” you squeeze on renjun’s dick so hard, causing him to cum right after you, painting your walls with his semen, making you let out a broken cry, squirting a bit more at the feeling of renjun’s warm cum.

you both pause for a few moments, renjun squeezing your waist occasionally, trying to calm down your trembling figure.

he drops to the side of you, careful to not remove his dick from your heat.

“you ok baby?” you nod at him tiredly, melting into the feeling of his hands in your hair.

“let’s sleep yeah? we both won’t have classes until later in the day bub. i’ll clean you up before i wake up, hm?” you smile at him, feeling warm from your boyfriends overwhelming affection.

“love you.”

“love you more, baby.”

you both cuddle against each other, before drifting into an empty sleep.

.note: i hope y’all liked it. i’m actually scared that y’all won’t, lol. anyways. goodnight, it’s like 1:04 in the uk so, bye my loves.

#renjun smut #huang renjun smut #renjun #huang renjun #huang renjun nct smut #renjun nct smut #nct #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct hard hours

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likeshipsonthesea · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if you take requests for nurseydex fics... but if you do the song “omg did she call him baby” by Beth McCarthy screams a heartbroken Nursey when Dex has a girlfriend

i like really can’t do genuine heartbreak but i CAN do angst that ends happy, so here’s my best shot :)

Nursey’s got a red Solo cup in one hand and a plastic champagne flute in the other and it’s sometime after three but before five and he is definitely not thinking about her or him or them together when he looks up between one sip and another to see the telltale blue hair reflecting the murky spotlights of the basement.

Nursey squints. He could be making things up--his brain is nice like that-- but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things. She’s got very distinctive hair, Dex’s--girlfriend. It’d been rather disappointing, actually, the blue hair. The whole thing had been easier to deal with when he’d been picturing some light-haired brunette going for an economics degree who smiled like a mom at soccer practice. Someone who Nursey could reasonably dislike on grounds of, like, predictability.

But no, Dex had to bring home a blue-haired physics major with a nose ring and good taste in music and the ability to out-argue Shitty while polishing off Bitty’s pie, i.e. perfect. Even Lardo couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t awesome for Nursey’s sake. Even Nursey can’t pretend like Amanda isn’t awesome for his own sake. She’s just so--so--

Nursey squints.

So-- making out with some random girl in a blouse at a frat party.

What the fuck.

Nursey is about two margaritas and three years too deep to be dealing with the emotional ramifications of catching the girlfriend of his best friend (who he’s also kind of sort of possibly maybe totally in love with) macking on some consultant for Goldman Sachs or some shit in the basement of arguably one of the worst frats at Samwell. This one doesn’t even have good music, Nursey’s only here to get drunk without the possibility of Dex calling Nursey Patrol and helping Nursey up the stairs and saying nothing about the poetry Nursey spills or the way his hands linger.

(Fuck does Nursey hate Nursey Patrol, fuck does he hate how much he loves it.)

Nursey downs the rest of the champagne flute--which was probably mostly orange juice at this point anyway-- and hands the red Solo cup to a freshman gearing himself up to talk to a cute boy a few feet away and then Nursey gets the fuck out of dodge. He manages to get a better look at the corporate recruiter Amanda is cheating on Dex with (and really, if you’re going to cheat on Dex, you’re really going to pick a chick in a blouse that probably has opinions on the stock market???) and if he hadn’t been sure before, the distinctive tattoo on Amanda’s shoulder proves that it’s really her.

(“Tattoos? Tattoos? I have tattoos.” “I know you do, Nurse.” “They’re really nice tattoos.” “I know they are, Nurse.”)

Emerging from the basement and then the frat house itself is instantly sobering. The chill from winter hasn’t quite left the air at night and Nursey wraps his arms around himself and doesn’t think about how Dex chirped him about not wearing a coat before he’d left. The frat isn’t far away from the Haus, thank god, but it is slightly farther when he turns left instead of right and then has to a backtrack a bit, but he still gets back in under ten minutes and he can still feel his hands, so overall, a win.

Attempting to get into the Haus quietly is a lost cause, given its one thousand year old floor and the fact that a ladybug could fart in the kitchen and wake up the guys in the attic. Still, Nursey gives it the good college try, which is why he’s creeping ridiculously through the living room when the light turns on suddenly and he screams, much to the amusement of Dex, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Fuck, dude, what the fuck.”

Dex just smirks in that horribly attractive way of his. “How was the Psi-U basement?”

Nursey thinks of blue hair, washed out in the lights, Amanda’s hand on that girl’s cheek, the way Dex smiles when he’s around her. “Fine,” Nursey says, swaying.

The amusement falters and Nursey wishes he could figure out a way to keep the smile on Dex’s face the way Amanda does. Dex takes a step closer. “Are you alright?”

Nursey shakes his head violently and takes a step back, a step farther away. This is the part where he says yes, yes of course Dexy-darling, I’m right as rain, what about you? This is the part where Dex rolls his eyes and loops his arm around Nursey’s waist, his warm side pressed into Nursey’s. The part where they go upstairs, where Nursey writes his best poetry that he’s too embarrassed to write down when he’s sober, where Dex tells him to sleep well and lingers outside the doorway long enough for Nursey’s breathing to slow and then the floor creaks and Nursey knows he’s gone and wishes he’d held on just a little bit longer--

“Nursey, what’s wrong?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He means to say nothing, he means to say, I’m going to bed, he means to-- “Amanda, she--”

The concern turns to alarm. Why can’t Nursey ever make it better? “Is she alright? Did you see her? Is she okay?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He can’t seem to stop doing that. “She’s fine, she--she--” He swallows, and it’s sticky, cloying, citrusy and sweet on the back of his tongue. “She--there was this girl, she-- Amanda, she--”

Dex won’t stop frowning, concern knitting his eyebrows together with three short wrinkles, and Nursey has wanted to smooth them out with his fingertips every time he sees them since sophomore year, and he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be telling Dex this while he’s drunk, shouldn’t be telling Dex this at all, but he’s Nursey’s friend first and Nursey has to believe he’d tell Dex regardless of the love thing, he must--

“She was kissing some girl. In the Psi-U basement.”

The wrinkles smooth out. The amusement returns. Nursey--he can’t make sense of it over the ringing in his ears. Why is Dex smiling? Did--did Nursey do that?

“Did she look like a lawyer?” he asks, and at Nursey’s confusion clarifies, “The girl Amanda was kissing. Did she look like a lawyer?” Nursey nods dumbly. Dex’s smile only grows. Nursey is so, so confused and also more in love than he’s ever been. “Finally. I just won fifty bucks.”

What the fuck. “What the fuck.”

Dex laughs--laughs. “The girl’s name is Tammy. She graduated last year and moved to Boston. Amanda’s been in love with her forever, and I bet her that she’d get with Tammy before I--” Flush appears high on Dex’s cheeks, the soft pink one that means embarrassment and Nursey imagines would taste like cherry pie against his lips.

Nursey is--still quite a bit drunk. He needs--clarification. “You--you bet your girlfriend that she would get with her friend at a frat party?”

Dex’s nose scrunches up in Nursey’s favorite way--the same way it does when he’s trying to write humanities essays, the reason Nursey always says yes when Dex asks for help. “Girlfriend? Did you think Amanda was my girlfriend?”

Nursey remembers the start, hearing about Amanda every other day, then every day, then it was, sorry I can’t come, I’m meeting Amanda at-- and then one day at Annie’s, a girl with blue hair and a sharp grin yelled Babe! from across the room and planted a kiss on Dex’s cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder, sipping from his coffee cup, getting him to smile like that--

“Well, yeah.” Nursey’s head is spinning and, for the first time tonight, not from the gin. “Is she--is she not?”

“Oh God, no, she’s so fucking gay, dude.” Laughter twinkles in Dex’s eyes. Nursey is drunker than he’s been since freshmen year of high school when Shitty snuck in some of his dad’s hard liquor and the janitors found them on the roof singing Disney songs at the moon. Dex’s girlfriend is gay. Dex’s girlfriend isn’t his girlfriend. Dex is--is smiling at him like he smiles at his girlfriend who isn’t his girlfriend.

“Oh,” Nursey says, dazed, “chill.”

“Oh wow,” Dex grins, leaning into the doorframe, “I can’t believe you thought--and you thought telling me my girlfriend was cheating on me at 3am while shit-drunk was a good idea?”

Nursey says, “Hey, honesty is important, and I’m not--” He stops. He remembers something. He squints. “Wait. If you bet 50 bucks on Amanda getting with Tammy, who did Amanda bet you would get with?”

The cherry pie blush is back. Nursey takes an absent-minded step forward. The room feels so much lighter now that Dex’s girlfriend isn’t cheating on him. The distance between them feels so much sillier now that Dex doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“Ah, well.” Dex rubs at the back of his neck, all country bumpkin sheepish to ask his sweetheart to the dance, and--and--

“I’m the sweetheart,” Nursey realizes with the kind of crystal clarity only afforded by the most copious amounts of alcohol.

Dex’s eyebrows furrow, those sweet little wrinkles appearing between them, and Nursey takes two long strides forward and presses his thumb into them. Dex goes cross-eyed trying to watch, but moves his eyes to meet Nursey’s after a moment.

Nursey grins, likely a bit sloppy from the gin, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. “I’m the sweetheart,” he repeats, beaming.

Dex tries to repress the smile at his lips. “You’re not a sweetheart.”

“Yes I am,” Nursey sings, listing forwards. “You like me.”

“You’re an asshole.” Dex’s smile grows. Nursey watches its progress and sways.

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” he says, tracking the pink lips as they spread, revealing teeth and--and tongue and--

“I hate that you can still say mutually exclusive when you’re this drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. See, I’ll prove it.”

“How do you plan on--”

If Dex’s mouth weren’t so preoccupied, he might say that the taste on Nursey’s tongue is a good indication that he is in fact fairly tipsy, but as it is--well. He’s got other things to do.

(Amanda asserts that they tied since it happened on the same night and only pays $25. Tammy throws in five more and a condom and they call it even. Nursey kisses away Dex’s protest and pockets the condom, much to Amanda’s amusement. Turns out, she’s even cooler when she isn’t dating the love of Nursey’s life.)

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mrdanielbond · 3 years

Text

Wild Nights, Wild Hearts (One-Shot?)

“Mystery man”

[Main characters: Mikael Blomkvist X Reader]

Plot: It is time to head back to work as a lecturer at your university after a successful first semester. Unfortunately for you, one of your guest lecturers is a familiar face from a wild night out…

[A/N: Wrote this ages ago and thought, hey why not? Okay, so I don’t know if this is going to be an actual thing. Like I assume it’s going to be a one-shot. Plus, in all fairness, Mikael is my favourite non-Bond character of Daniel’s, so I thought it’s time to appreciate this man in all his glory. I hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think?]

Music continued to boom through the speakers. The flashing lights and smoke was intense, but you didn’t care. As long as you were still with your friends, celebrating a birthday amongst the group, that's all that mattered. What also helped was the fact your sultry look managed to get you quite a few free drinks from the bartender. You weren’t used to this kind of attention, often keeping a natural look. However, this was your friend and co-worker’s birthday. You wanted to spice things up and look incredible for her. Of course, when Maisie saw you for the first time, she was surprised. In fact, her jaw dropped at how glamorous you looked. “Girl what the HELL! After Florence Pugh, you are a woman I’d proudly fuck.” You remember her particularly saying and that was the start of an incredibly wild night.

“Javier, can I get another tequila please!” You scream with excitement at the bar, Javier proudly pours you your sixth tequila shot.

“This one’s on the house my darling, Y/N.” He pushed the shot glass in front of you and your eyes widen with excitement. You had to admit, you do have a thing for tequila so this man feeding you free drinks made the night all the better.

“You spoil me.” You winked as you took the shot and walked off to join the rest of your friends.

The night followed with more dancing and more drinks between your friends. At some point on the floor, you started to get tired and your craving for more drinks kicked in because you found yourself at the bar once again. This time you were looking for something more than a shot. “Okay, so it’s like a sex on the beach but like so much fruiter, like with strawberries!” You tried to explain but in your drunken state, Javier couldn’t help but laugh as he struggled listening to you.

“You know what? You tell me what to do and I’ll make it for you.” He said and a devious grin appeared on your face. So you watched, instructing him on how to make your special cocktail and when he finished, he threw a small umbrella inside it to serve you. You sipped it and couldn’t help but moan. It was glorious...Well maybe it would’ve been if you could taste it at all.

“Can I have what she’s having?” A baritone voice said beside you. You turned with your eyebrow raised. “And I’ll pay for hers.”

He reached into his wallet, still looking into your eyes as he handed Javier his card. You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the fact you were practically pushed against each other with how packed the bar was but this man was...incredibly handsome. Rugged dirt blonde hair, bright blue eyes that gave you butterflies and his dark blue shirt didn’t help as you couldn’t help but stare at his chest from time to time. Javier turned back to make your drink for the stranger and handed it over to him. “If you’re going to have a cocktail, you’ve got to get it right. Strawberries with the ice.” He said with a smirk but you couldn’t hear him. Not with the music blasting over you...and his dreamy eyes. “What?” You tried to shout out. “I said-” He could barely get a word out in all the noise and you could see it. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quieter table in the corner. “That’s better - wow.” He suddenly stopped himself when he took another look at you. “You’re really beautiful.” “Smooth.” You chuckled. Alright, so at this point, usually you would say thanks and dip to find your friends. However, this man, bless him, appeared mesmerized by you. He was in awe of you and not just looking at your chest or your figure as though he were some creep. You both hadn’t realised you were still holding hands, leaning into each other.

“Hey, that’s unfair! I’m not usually bold with women.” Something about the mystery man was telling you he was honest. “The strong and silent type is full of surprises.” He said and you swear to god, you could see even he knew what he was doing with that statement. To be honest, he was right. With those eyes, he wouldn’t have to say a single word to get you to go home with him. Throughout the night, you both kept rambling to each other about everything and nothing but you were both having fun, laughing together and putting each other at ease. Your friends must’ve noticed you because they were all staring at the two of you in awe, sharing drinks together, leaning into each other. Then ‘Someone New’ by Hozier began to play. Oh no. Any slow song that played while you were next to a man was a recipe for disaster. The mystery man ,on his high, pulled you closer. “Oh no, I can’t go out there!” You said. “Come on, what happened to that confidence I saw earlier?!” He laughed. “Listen, I can pick and choose when I want to be brave!” You snapped back. “Why are you so bold all of a sudden?!” “What can I say? You bring out a new side to me.” He laughed and before you could fight back, he managed to bring you to the floor. You couldn’t tell him why this was a bad idea but...maybe it wasn’t now you were in his arms, moving around the floor. He held you close and you didn’t want to leave. Not with the high of the drinks and after such a good night filled with laughter. Who knows? Maybe when you wake up the next day, you’d regret it. But for now, you were going to appreciate being here with him...but now you were filled with anticipation, you were craving something. Uh oh. You were craving him. Suddenly, a surge of confidence filled you and you looked up at him. He had already been looking at you. Quickly, he leaned in and you found yourselves kissing with a raw, fiery passion that remained unmatched. You could tell how much he wanted you. In fact, you could feel it as he pressed you against him. But you didn’t care. You ran your fingers through his hair, now the heated kiss becoming lazy until you bit his lip, catching him by surprise. When you pulled back breathlessly, he smirked. “Oh shut up, I know what you’re going to say.” You playfully pushed his chest.

The hangover the next day was going to be ridiculous but you didn’t care. The mystery man had you all over him, and he? All over you.

Rain violently bounced against the wall of your office. Across you sat Maisie, who happened to be an English lecturer. You were one of the lecturers, who had just finished your PHD in Media and Cultural Studies and when offered a job at the university, you couldn’t help yourself but stay. It was decent pay after all and after three years with the university, you realised your students loved you. There were wild lecturers in the school of arts department, who overshared and gladly you weren’t one of them but your students knew you well enough to seem relatable. However, you were hoping that today they would not quiz you on your hangover. Especially your seminar classes, they really loved hearing whatever you went through. Right now, you sat at the table, head against the desk of your office while Maisie watched you groan. “Oh my god.” Was all you could mumble. This was not how you wanted to spend your first week back of the second semester. Your head was pounding violently, you were nauseous, stomach turning. The only thing saving you was the cup of coffee you had in hand, after being forced to take an espresso shot, you were still practically dead. Maisie simply sat there shaking her head. God, she had no right to judge you after goading you into going out. “You should have known not to go hard on the drinks!” “But...free…” The words fell from your lips. “Javier gives free drinks all the time, I’m surprised it doesn’t get him fired. You should’ve known, he did this last time. Actually, that reminds me, where did you go last night?” And then you remembered. You went off with a mystery man, an incredibly handsome mystery man. That, you were fortunate enough to remember. With your head against the table, you smirked, so your friend wouldn’t see. “Don’t pretend as if we didn’t see you walking off and kissing that man, who by the way is a huge score! We spent all night fangirling about him.” Maisie said with excitement but all you could do was groan again, “Come on! You have to tell me! What happened?” “Nothing happened.” You mumbled into your arms. Okay something happened but you still didn’t want to say anything. “Don’t lie to me! You have to tell me, it was my birthday, meaning you have to tell me what YOU did on my day!”

You still refused to move. As your knight in shining armour, the Head of Faculty, Andrew stormed into the room, coffee mug and binder in hand. “Right! Who’s ready for a day full of learning ladies!” Maisie laughed as all you could let out was a groan. “Oh, not you too!” He let out an irritated huff. “This is ridiculous. Seems like there’s a lot of hangovers going around this morning.” “Really?” Maisie said, leaning forward with excitement. “Yeah, I just got off the phone with the guest lecturer. He is bloody hungover too. Could hear it in his voice.” Shit. Guest lecturer. One of the senior lecturers decided to go on a research leave mid-year, which didn’t help your cause as you were left with over one hundred students needing attention. That is when the head of faculty, Andrew, who you adored, decided to call in a guest lecturer, an industry expert in the field to provide you with support. Only thing is, Andrew was unpredictable, so you didn’t know who he had in store. You only knew he was a pretty popular journalist in Europe. Weren’t you supposed to be meeting him before the class? “He said he’s going to be running late.” Thank god for that. You didn’t need Andrew screaming at you about representing the university under a negative light. Before Andrew could get to scolding you, however, your alarm went off. Swiftly, you jumped up and swiped all your folders. “Class! Got to get to class!” Was all you could muster before leaving the room, and your colleagues, incredibly shocked.

Students filled the lecture hall for the first lesson of the semester, which didn’t surprise you. There were a lot of familiar faces as usual. A couple of new ones but most of the students knew when you were out of it and these were the ones present. Andrew followed you in, watching intently, hoping you wouldn’t screw this up. But everyone knew the rules. The moment your mug was placed against the desk, everyone was silent, eagerly listening to hear from you. “Morning everyone! Welcome back, I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas break! Just know that for many of you who took my module last year, yes, I am currently in the process of grading your assignments and the results will be distributed next week. However, I am not here to talk about that. Right now, it is time to turn over a new page! So, for those of you that don’t know me, I am Dr. Y/N Y/LN. I am totally cool without the whole formal title and I am a lecturer in Media and Cultural studies and welcome to my module Introduction to Investigative Journalism. This is where we’ll be in touch with some of the world’s most notorious cases from the role investigative journalism played in the portrayal of criminals from the likes of Charles Ponzi, Pablo Escobar, Charles Bronson to female serial killers such as Velma Barfield and Judy Buenoano. We will be looking at cold cases such as the murder of Olof Palme to the story of D.B. Cooper and corruption amongst transnational and multinational companies such as the fall of Wennerstrom. I know this feels like a criminology course and having the stomach would be ideal, however this is incredibly interesting if you want to look into serious crimes and learn about political corruption. I mean I didn’t have the stomach at first but you learn to live with it.” The students laughed. Andrew was in awe of how professional you managed to be but then again that is why the university needed you. They knew you were the young voice they needed to liven things up and get students intrigued, no matter how hungover or ill you were. “ Now, as you know, Dr. Woodbridge has taken a research leave so today, I believe that Andrew has called in a guest lecturer who will be here throughout the second half of the module to provide support and as an industry expert will hopefully be able to answer the questions you all will have.”

Andrew stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear as he headed to the centre. He gave you a wink to praise the way you pulled yourself together and turned to the rest of the class. “Thank you very much, Y/N. Couldn’t have introduced the module better myself, you have me excited and I’m not even taking it! Anyway, without further ado, I am honoured to introduce to you all your guest lecturer today, he is an investigative journalist and co-owner of Swedish magazine, Millennium, Mikael Blomkvist!” The class gave an applause and so did you as the man walked through the door. Then your applause slowed...hang on a minute. Why did the name Mikael sound familiar? Mikael walked in with a smile, waving at the glass, sporting glasses and a warm cardigan, smiling but then he turned to you and then it hit you. This was YOUR mystery man!

#mikael blomkvist #daniel craig #mikael blomkvist x reader #the girl with the dragon tattoo #crime #fan fiction #romance #daniel craig x reader #james bond #James Bond 007

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fantasmalresplendent · 3 years

Text

Dean died at the ripe old age of 85.

In his lucid moments during the days leading up to his passing, in which Dean was just as sharp and as bright as he was fifty years ago, he remarked that people must think he’d robbed the cradle with a “hot piece” such as Castiel hanging around him.

“You don’t mind that I’m a wrinkly, senile, crotchety old bastard?” Dean had asked, more than once, but he had always said it with a smile. And Castiel would smile back, replying with the same answer the answer many times, in many ways:

“You’re not senile.”

“Old, but not a bastard.”

“I thought I was the crotchety one.”

“I don’t mind.”

Then Dean would smile, and it would light up the room, and Castiel would wonder again how he came to deserve the focus, let alone the affection, of such a man.

“It’s not about deserving, Cas,” Dean had said, half-whispered in the middle of the night a few short months after they had begun to share the bed they laid in. “It’s… fuck, well I don’t know what it’s about. But people don’t get what they deserve, not most of the time.”

Castiel frowned, furrowing his brows. “They should,” he grumbled.

“Well if people got what they deserved, they’d… I don’t know, Sam would’ve actually become a lawyer, stayed in school. Jo, Ellen, Bobby, they’d all still be here. I’d get mauled by a werewolf or something, go out with a bang, and Baby,” Dean said sternly, as though chastising the universe itself for such an injustice, “Would never get so much as a scratch on her.”

“You think that’s what you deserve?” Castiel’s voice was soft, not wanting to disturb the still of the night, but steely as he considered even the possibility of Dean’s violent end.

Dean registered that, swallowing, “I don’t know. I guess I just never thought I’d even make it this far. Hunters have the shortest lifespans of any human subspecies,” Dean cracked a smile, but his heart wasn’t in the joke. Castiel knew Dean was doing the math in his head. He knew Dean was mentally recalling how long it had been since Bobby left for heaven. Tallying up the number of people who were gone because of self-sacrifice, mistakes, pure dumb luck. Counting exactly how many years he had outlived his own mother.

Castiel had wrapped his arms around Dean then, embracing him, surrounding him, and they curled into each other completely. Burying himself in Castiel’s neck, Dean had never felt so close to him, and yet so far away. “You don’t have to follow the same patterns if you don’t want to, Dean,” Castiel stated, as if it were that easy. “Do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Get mauled by a werewolf?”

Dean sniffed in laughter, and that was answer enough.

Castiel found himself stroking Dean’s hair, an action he felt suited him. He thought for a moment in the stillness and in the space between their breaths. “Maybe it’s idealistic of me, but I still think people should get what they deserve. Even- no, especially you.”

Dean took his time answering, opening his mouth several times before actually saying, “Sometimes I don’t think I know what I deserve.”

“I guess we’ll just have to figure that out together then. We have time,” Castiel kissed Dean’s forehead and he sighed at the touch. “We have plenty of time. Heaven will wait for you, no matter how long.”

Dean looked up at him then with a pout, “You sound pretty confident in that statement for a dude who hasn’t shown up to heavenly chorus practice in a few years.”

Castiel smiled, “I’d rather be here with you. Always have.”

The man blushed. “Well, if I go… I mean, wherever I go… Where will you end up?”

“I could go with you.”

“Where?”

Castiel closed the distance between them fully, thumbing across Dean’s cheek as they kissed. “Anywhere. If you want me there, I will be there, whether it’s here or heaven. I’ll be there.”

“For how long?”

“For however long you want me to be.”

Dean kissed back, his fingers tangling in Castiel’s hair. “Yeah. Okay.”

Sam went not long after Dean. It wasn’t a surprise; it was his time as well. His children were grown, his grandchildren almost grown, Castiel knew they’d miss him but that they’d be all right. And they knew to call on “Uncle Cas” if they weren’t, even the little ones who didn’t understand exactly how they were related, or why Great Uncle Dean's husband was only about as old as their parents.

“I mean I love the little gremlins,” Dean had said, cracking open a beer after a long few days of babysitting Sam and Eileen's girls while the expecting parents were in the hospital. He was exhausted, they both were, but beaming from meeting the newest member of the Winchester clan: a healthy baby boy named Robert. “But have you seen Sam’s house? Goddamn mess in there.”

“You… don’t want to have some of your own?” Castiel had asked carefully, taking the beer Dean held out for him.

“You’re making them sound like trading cards. I don’t know, I- I guess I never thought too hard about it.” Castiel could tell this was a lie by the way Dean didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Wouldn’t know what to do with a kid if I had one.”

“Do you think you’d be a good father?”

Castiel had met John Winchester, in Hell. Well, he hadn’t exactly met him. He had really only passed by John’s cell, stole a glance at the infamous hunter on his way to retrieve Dean’s soul. He’d never told Dean what he saw, they were not close enough at the time. He wasn’t sure if Dean would even want to know. Castiel had almost spoken about it many times, but whenever Dean talked about John, “Dad,” a look crossed over his face, sometimes for only a second. A furrowing of brows, a tight smile, a quick transition to happier subjects.

The same look crossed over Dean’s face as soon as Castiel had asked the question.

“Wow. Um, loaded question there, Cas.”

He waited for Dean to meet his eyes before continuing, “I think you would be.”

“Do- wait,” Dean shook his head, trying to understand where Castiel was going with all of this, “Do you want kids?”

“I want you to live a normal life, Dean. I want to be able to give you what you want.”

“Okay, lots of stuff to unpack here. First of all, a normal life isn’t and never was an option,” Dean leaned back against the counter, “I think we can agree on that. Second of all, you didn’t answer my question.”

“...And third of all?” Castiel prompted.

“No, second of all first. Do you want kids?”

Castiel sighed, taking a swig of his beer, considering his words. “I’m an angel, Dean-”

“Is that so!” Dean raised his eyebrows, then squinted as if in deep thought, “Weird, somehow I never noticed.”

That deserved a well-placed eyeroll, but Castiel still had a point to make. “We don’t- I’m just trying to…” he set his beer down. “I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that I would love and care for a child, if it were ours. If we decided that was something we wanted, I would be so happy to raise them, with you. I’d be terrified,” Castiel admitted, “At the enormous and important responsibility, but I would love doing it, if… if it was with you. I just want you to know that, I guess,” Castiel shrugged, “I don’t want you to think it’s not an option for us, if you want it to be.”

“Okay…” Dean was thinking, swirling the beer around his glass. He pointed the mouth at Castiel, “You’re still avoiding my question,” Castiel really rolled his eyes this time, “But I don’t really think it’s for me, all that white picket fence stuff. If you really wanted a kid, I would definitely hit the library and read all those, I don’t know, fucking parenting guides, and take the Mommy and Me classes, whatever. And I think you’d be a good father, better than me, I’d just let them eat gummy worms and shoot slingshots.”

“Children love gummy worms. They listen and will behave better when offered gummy worms,” Castiel knew this for a fact from very recent personal experience, “I don’t see how gummy worms could pose an issue. Slingshots, however-”

“Okay so maybe I’m overestimating your abilities a little,” Dean held up a hand, “But still, I… I like this,” he gestured to the space between them and around them, “I like us. I like waking up to a clean kitchen and sleeping in on weekends. I like not having to ask more than one person whether or not I can take a drive by myself or crank my music really loud at midnight. And I fucking hate Paw Patrol.”

Castiel smiled.

“Sam and Eileen always need babysitters. That’s good enough for me right now.”

“You’ll tell me though, if this is something you really want,” Castiel insisted, “If you think about it and decide something else.”

“Sure.”

“Promise.”

“Okay, fine, I promise,” Dean took a step forward and leaned in for a kiss then. Castiel could taste the beer on Dean’s tongue and sighed. Dean smiled against Castiel’s lips, lowering his voice to a comical level, “We could, uh, you know, try and make some babies,” Dean waggled his eyebrows and Castiel pushed Dean’s laughing face away, but grabbed his hand, turning towards their room.

They hadn’t spoken about it again, not seriously anyway. They got a dog. Dean opened a vintage car garage. Castiel learned how to bake. They took long road trips to the beaches in California, wandered through roadside attractions like Carhenge in Nebraska and Cadillac Ranch in Texas. They bought decidedly way too much merchandise at Oklahoma’s National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. And maybe they killed the occasional vampire, the wayward poltergeist, but the occasions became less and less. There were younger, more spry hunters on the road now, always welcome at the bunker to look through their library or ask advice on a particularly troublesome spirit. Sam even coerced Dean into holding what became a yearly “conference,” “What are we, a tech startup?” for the next generation of hunters to learn from the legendary brothers.

So maybe they spent more time at home than on the road, but home suited them. Routine suited them like Castiel never could have predicted it would. It wasn’t a white picket fence, but it wasn’t a lonely highway either. Dean would joke about how “boring” they’d become, but Castiel reveled in the repetition. The three hundredth time Dean brought Castiel coffee in bed was just as lovely as the third. The five hundredth time Castiel cooked dinner passed without fanfare, though Dean hugging him from behind, chin hooked over Castiel’s shoulder as he whisked, felt like fanfare enough. The one thousandth kiss they shared was in their bed, lazily breathing each other in as the first beams of sunlight shone through the window after a week of straight rain. Home, a thing he and Dean had never known in their youth, held the majority of their most precious, most banal memories. But still, Castiel always looked forward to those moments speeding down a desert highway when Dean would reach for his hand, turn his head to meet Castiel’s eyes, and smile.

Time took its time with them.

It seemed the opposite with Sam’s children, who grew up faster than Castiel could keep track of. And as they grew from waddling toddlers to full-fledged human beings, Castiel was fascinated, enamored, but Dean was simply proud. He attended their tournaments, their decathlons. He went to their graduations, weddings, barbecues, and Castiel went with him. They took the kids to concerts and movies, parks and shooting ranges, and Castiel never got tired of the smile on Dean’s face when they threw their small arms around Dean’s neck and called him their “Cool Uncle.” “Hear that, Cas? That means you’re the No Fun Uncle. The No-Funcle.”

And as the crowned Cool Uncle, he teased Sam mercilessly about his minivan and his “#1 Dad” mugs, but Castiel knew how proud Dean was of him too. How glad he was that Sam got the future he wanted, and how grateful he was that that future included him.

The brothers still fought. They still bickered, pranked, and glowered. Sam complained that Dean let his kids use power tools too young when they visited, and Dean complained that Sam’s kids were too old to have never heard “Stairway to Heaven.” The usual, the routine, many times over. But they never lied to each other, at least not about the important things, not anymore. And Castiel was welcome in Sam and Eileen’s house and lives, an honor he felt he didn’t deserve, but as Dean said, maybe it wasn’t about deserving.

It was Eileen who noticed Castiel first as he entered the hospital room the day he'd been informed that Sam Winchester was finally coming home. He didn't have to tell Eileen; she saw it on Castiel's face. They’d already spoken, he’d prepared her for the eventuality a few days prior. Eileen smiled, looking back at her husband, teasing him lightly, but Castiel knew she was holding back on her usual snark because Sam looked, well, tired. Turning away from Sam, Eileen signed, “Are you here for him?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, but someone will be here soon.”

“You mean they haven’t given you reaper duty yet?” Sam joked from his horizontal position, speaking and signing with his usual quick wit, but not with his usual articulation. Castiel had seen him argue with Dean for fifty years like it was his job, he was accustomed to the precision with which Sam had always wielded his words. Not today.

“I don’t think I’d be very good at it,” Castiel stepped closer so that Sam wouldn’t have to crane his head, “I’m not very persuasive.”

“No kidding,” Sam shakily clasped Castiel’s hand and grinned. “I’m surprised Dean even went with you.”

“It took less persuading than you’d think.”

“How is he?” Eileen asked, but she was smiling, so she knew the answer.

“He’s good,” Castiel smiled back, “Getting what he deserves.”

Sam smirked, but his head sunk back into his pillow as if relieved. “And I bet he’s complaining about it non-stop. Asshole never knew how to take a vacation.”

“Neither do you,” Eileen levelled her husband with a fond look.

“We’ve taken vacations!”

“You always wanted to go somewhere exotic and then you’d just end up in the library. Remember Berlin?”

“They had… well I wasn’t going to find those editions in America, and-”

Sam and Eileen bickered for a bit, and Castiel did end up backing Eileen’s points more often than not, so eventually Sam recognized that he was outnumbered on this particular case.

Castiel bid his goodbyes just in time as the nurse entered the room to check Sam’s vitals. Her tone was cheerful, but Castiel could tell that she too knew what was coming.

“Well… I’ll see you soon, buddy, huh?” Sam smiled at Castiel as confidently as he could muster for Eileen’s sake, but Castiel knew behind those laugh lines Sam wasn’t so sure of himself. Castiel supposed that worry wasn’t to be unexpected from a chosen one of Hell, Lucifer's vessel, the boy Castiel had once called an “abomination.”

But Castiel smiled, giving Sam’s shoulder one last firm squeeze. “You will.”

When Dean died, at the ripe old age of 85, he knew what to expect.

He’d visited heaven before. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Not an exciting place, but exciting wasn’t necessarily good. Hell had been exciting, and he was in no hurry to return there. Purgatory had been exciting in a different way, years later he swore the stench still lingered on his skin. Sometimes, when he would lose himself in his “senior moments,” he thought he was back in that bloody in between. Or back in hell. Or had gone to heaven. “Times and places are difficult to navigate when your brain’s turning into gummy worms,” he told Cas once. He didn’t remember saying this a few hours later, but that didn’t make it any less true.

His brain was sure full of them gummy worms now as he clung to his body and to his life. He wasn’t completely sure where he was. Bobby’s? The bunker? His childhood home? Sammy had come to see him earlier, at least the kid had looked like Sammy… No, fuck, that was his grand-nephew, Cas had reminded him of that. Sam, his brother Sam, was in the next room. That's right, he’d told the asshole to give him some space, stop smothering him. He sort of wished he was here now though. And Cas, Cas was here, he knew that, but only because the angel was right in front of him. Cas, his friend, was holding Dean’s hand, talking about what their grand-nieces and nephews were doing in school. Dean could swear he already knew these things, but they still sounded new when Cas said them.

Dean looked over at him, and Cas was smiling.

He tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. Cas helped him swallow some cool water. Dean cleared his throat, “Bet you’ve been waiting for this for a while.”

Castiel cocked his head, the smile fading. Fifty some odd years and he still had that same confused look. “Waiting for what?”

“Me to beef it, finally. I know this hasn’t been easy, watching me… seeing me like…” Dean took a shallow breath. “No matter where I go next, at least I won’t be a senile senior citizen.”

“Dean,” Cas said, rubbing the back of Dean’s liver spot-covered hand, “Please listen to me very carefully.”

“Got my hearing aids in, go ahead,” Dean joked.

Cas smiled softly again. “It has been the greatest privilege of my life, my existence, to watch you grow old. I feel honored that you allowed me to experience that. Time’s different for me too,” Cas kissed Dean’s hand, “Space and time were never precious to me, not in the stretch of infinity. Not until you. Not until I was able to see you live your life and live it well.”

Tears welled in the corners of Dean’s eyes. He furiously tried to blink them away, but Cas was already there, dabbing carefully with a handkerchief. “I’m… I’m scared, Cas. I know I shouldn’t be, I’ve seen it all. I’ve beefed it a few times already. But maybe that’s why I’m scared? Because… I know what comes next. What could come next. And this is it, right? No more resets?”

Cas nodded.

Dean took a deep, shuddering breath. “If I don’t end up in heaven-”

“You will.”

“If I don’t, that’s fine, maybe it’s what I deserve, and that’s fair. But… will I see you again?”

“Dean,” Cas said sadly, but with his trademarked firmness, “You are going to paradise. And if for some reason, a completely incorrect and insane reason, you don’t? I dragged your soul out of the flames once, I will do it again. I would do it as many times as I needed to.”

Dean shook his head slightly, “Not fair.”

“It’s not about fair. It’s about the truth. Whether you believe it or not, ET goes home.”

Dean chuckled weakly. He was tired. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to let go so badly.

He felt the bed move as Cas climbed under the covers with him. The angel curled around him, enveloping him. Dean could swear he felt the brush of feathers cradling him and pulling him closer, but he couldn’t muster the ability to reach for them, stroke them like he used to. “Sleep, Dean. I’ll be here when you wake up. Wherever, whenever here is. That’s where I’ll be. Wherever you go, I’ll go with you.”

“Swear?”

Castiel kissed his forehead. “I swear.”

Dean opened his eyes.

The phrase, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore” popped into his head, but he suspected, greatly, that he was, in fact, in Kansas. The blowing fields of wheat tipped him off to that.

No, wait. That wasn’t a field, it was a… sandy beach. It looked kind of like that beach he and Cas had stumbled upon driving down the Pacific Coast Highway, what was it called? The one where they’d had to hike down from the lookout point? The one where after they’d trudged back up the trail, they’d sat in the car and looked out over the sea as the sun set? The one where Castiel had smiled at him and the light glinted in his blue eyes and Dean had kissed Cas for the first time ever because he just couldn’t stop himself?

Muir Beach, Dean remembered, blushing at the memory.

But just as soon as he’d reached the end of that thought, it wasn’t the ocean anymore. It was a lake. On the lake was a pier. He’d seen that pier before, couldn’t remember exactly where though.

Then without warning, but without alarm, Dean saw someone standing on the end of the dock. A young man with light brown hair and a sweet smile Dean would recognize anywhere.

Jack waved, walking up casually, “Hey, Dean.”

Dean grinned and pulled him into a solid hug. “Jack. I missed you buddy, how have you been? Where, uh… are we in…”

Jack chucked, “I think you know where we are.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know know, this could… I could be dreaming or some shit, and I guess even in a dream you could say whatever I wanted you to say, so-”

“Dean,” Jack stopped him, “This is heaven. You are in heaven.”

A relieved but small smile spread over Dean’s face. “Cool…”

“I’m not usually here to meet people who pass on, but we weren’t going to miss your arrival.”

“We?”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned around. There was Cas, beaming at him.

“Cas…” Dean reached to embrace him too, only now noticing that the hands that reached out were not as wrinkled as they’d been when he last saw them. He hugged Cas tightly, relieved more than he wanted to admit. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Cas’s hand went to Dean’s cheek, holding him in a kiss. They separated, foreheads resting against each other. Cas’s eyes twinkled, “We had an appointment.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean took a step back, seeing Jack grinning out of the corner of his eye. “Is, uh… is anyone else coming? Or is this the welcoming party?”

“They’re all waiting for you,” Cas put his hand down, and as he did, it was stopped mid-air, as if resting on something solid. Dean blinked, and there was Baby, new as the day she was made, parked on a long, long road that stretched far out of sight. “Any time you’re ready,” Cas tossed something in Dean’s direction, “we can go.”

Dean caught the keys on instinct, they jingled on the simple ring.

Any time you’re ready, we can go.

He twirled them around the end of his finger a couple times, a thought itching at his brain. Or a couple dozen thoughts.

Cas gave him a look, then turned to Jack, “Could you give us a moment?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get everything ready,” Jack blipped out.

“Get what ready?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” he turned around to face Cas whose brows were knit in worry, bright blue eyes narrowed, “Are you okay?” Dean realized he hadn’t seen Cas clearly for a few years, not since before the cataracts. He’d never gotten completely used to that piercing gaze.

Dean blinked. “Yeah, I… I just… I’m here. Really here.”

“Yes, Dean.”

“And… you’re here.”

Cas gave him that look like he was being patient on purpose, “Yes, Dean.”

“And… fuck,” Dean stood at sudden attention, “I left Sam down there, is he okay?”

Catching Dean's hands in his own, Cas rubbed comforting circles into Dean's skin. "Sam is fine. He was there when you left. That's why I was a little late, Eileen had only just gotten home and I didn't want to leave before she could be there beside him.

"Okay," Dean took a deep breath, concentrating on the physical contact, grounding himself in Cas’s movements, "Okay. I mean I know he's gonna be fine, he was always fine without me," Dean said, almost to himself.

"And you'll see him soon."

The abrupt return of Dean’s panicked look made Cas smile a little, shake his head, "Not that soon, Dean. Don't worry."

"Right. Of course, yeah,” Dean looked around, down the road, the back to his car, out past the waving grain that had returned inexplicably. “Well,” Dean flashed what he thought was a very convincing smile, letting Cas’s hands go as he tossed the keys once and caught them, heading towards the car, “Time to hit the road, huh?”

"Wait,” the suspicious squint was back as Cas caught Dean’s arm, “Something else is bothering you."

Dean turned around, and the ocean was back. The ocean he’d taken a trip to see, had selfishly insisted Cas come along for the ride for.

He sighed. "I just…” Dean ran a hand through his hair, “I don't know, I guess it just don't sit right that I’m… I'm gonna see Mom and Bobby and Jo and Charlie and… everyone. How am I going to look them in the face and not feel guilty that I got decades that they’ll never have? And what did I do with that time, sit on my ass? Judge local car shows? Go to freaking baseball games?"

Cas nodded slowly, simply listening. He then hopped up and sat on the hood of the Impala, shoes and all. Dean shot him an offended look.

“She’s a memory of a car, Dean,” Cas rolled his eyes, “She isn’t going to dent.” He patted the spot next to him.

Dean hesitated, but under Cas’s stare, relented. When he was settled, Castiel laced their fingers together.

“I’ve been trying to convince you for all the time I’ve known you that you’re worthy. That you deserved to be saved. That you deserved to rest.” Cas looked down at their entwined hands, “I don’t think I ever really succeeded.”

“Sorry,” Dean muttered.

“You don’t have to apologize. I know you’ve been doing a thankless job ever since you carried Sam out of your burning home. Shit, even before that,” Dean cocked his head, Cas hardly ever cursed, “you were always trying to be the hero for your mother. Some people are at fault for that,” Cas’s eyebrows furrowed briefly, “but it’s human nature to be hard on ourselves and praiseworthy of others. You, in your limited experience, could not possibly know all of the things that you’ve done that have made a difference. But we’re-”

Jack suddenly blipped into existence, giving Castiel two big thumbs up, then blipped out again.

Dean turned, looking from the space Jack had stood back to Cas then back again, “What-”

Cas shook his head with a smile, “I could never tell you exactly what you’ve meant to the world. But we had a, uh, few volunteers that wanted to show you.”

“Cas, could you quit monologuing for a second and-”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw movement. The endless sea became endless plains which became endless trees, the landscape changing at a rapid rate.

Dean looked back to Cas in confusion, but he didn’t look alarmed. He gave Dean a timid smile, kissed him behind his ear, and whispered, “Just watch.”

Dean watched. For a moment, the scenery couldn’t seem to decide what it wanted to be. Then, it decided not to decide. Grains of sand took the form of towering trees, a picnic table, a bench. Green lake water formed the shape of a small boy, hunched over and scribbling on the table. Lastly the wheat twirled and spun and became an all-too-familiar-looking young man wearing a jacket too big for his frame, walking over to the bench and sitting down across from the kid.

Lucas. The name came to Dean from deep in his memory, he was that quiet kid who drew Dean pictures of the ghost in the lake. The grain animated Dean’s smile as he talked, the figure of Lucas showed Dean his sketches. Their forms dissolved as the scene changed and Dean's form was pulling Lucas out of the water, the sheriff having paid his due.

The figure of Dean left, but Lucas stayed and was joined by his mother, Dean remembered her too. They embraced, and the figure of Lucas grew, changed into a young man, a husband, a father. Soon a half dozen figures were standing there, waving to Dean, and then they disappeared, melting back into water. Lucas was the last to go as he was the first to arrive. He signed a phrase to Dean, and Dean knew the words: Thank you, Dean Winchester.

Then the sand reformed into a schoolgirl, the shapes in the green water plaguing her with images of mirrors and Bloody Marys until Dean stepped in front of her, holding a mirror of grain in front of the cruel, refracted specter. It dissolved, and Dean’s form bade goodbye, but the girl remained. She grew too just like the boy did, becoming a professor, graduating with honors, writing dozens of books, and changing dozens of lives. She smiled, and waved, and dissolved as well.

The shapeshifters appeared next, the sand in the form of Sam’s friend Zach, his sister Becky, and even Dean’s false shifter form, but the true form in the too-large jacket blew them all away, leaving Becky waving goodbye. She too welcomed a family that appeared by her side, and they all looked so happy and grateful to have each other.

Again and again the scenes changed. Green waters showed the cities he had passed through, the homes that were kept from destruction, entire communities that were healed. The water formed and reformed into smiling faces and waving hands. Some of the people, Dean had known on Earth. Many of the places, Dean had remembered driving through. Most of the people and places, however, were foreign to Dean. He lost count of the number of strangers who appeared, the cities he’d never been to. He struggled to keep track as they cycled faster and faster, as numerous as the grains of sand and droplets of water they were made of. It seemed that a whole generation of people, all over the world, would-be victims of an apocalypse they never even knew was happening, knew him. Through words and cheers and song, they retold the tales of Dean and Sam Winchester, the tales they had only learned once they had passed on.

Throughout all of this, Cas pressed his shoulder to Dean’s, his presence grounding but not distracting. Dean’s grip on Cas’s hand grew tighter and tighter. Cas did not let go.

Eventually, the images and figures departed. The sand blew away, the waters swirled and dispersed, and the landscape made its final decision. Only a simple field of golden wheat remained, waving and rippling in the wind.

Only in that newfound silence did Dean notice he was crying. He shook his head, wiping the tears away furiously.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, and Dean turned to face him, vision blurred, Cas looking at him pleadingly. “You sacrificed so much for so many for so long. You don’t have to be strong right now. You don’t have to be strong ever again if you don’t want to. You have done enough.”

Castiel wiped an errant tear from Dean’s cheek, holding his face between his hands firmly, tenderly.

“You are, and always were, enough. Your job is done. Let. Go.”

Dean did.

Cas silently pulled Dean into his shoulder as he sobbed. Dean didn’t even know why he was crying, didn’t know what for. Maybe he was happy. Maybe he was grieving. Maybe he just felt… relief. He wasn’t sure the last time he felt such relief. He wasn’t sure he ever had truly felt it.

After some time, longer than he’d like to admit, Dean sniffed, wiped one hand over his face, and raised his head. Cas was waiting for him, looking at him with care. With love.

“I, uh… I don’t gotta sign any autographs, do I?”

Cas smiled, and pulled Dean in for a kiss. They stayed like that for a bit on the hood of the car, feeling the breeze, breathing in the fresh air. Dean thought he could hear music coming from somewhere, realizing that it was the car’s radio playing softly from the cab. He knew that any time he wanted, he could hop down from the hood of his car, slide into the driver’s seat with the love of his life on the passenger’s side, and carry on his wayward way. Down the road, through the endless fields, towards the ones he had loved and lost. But not yet, not quite yet, because he had time. Maybe in the end, time was all he had ever really wanted, even if he could never allow himself to ask for it.

Infinity stretched out in front of him like the fields of grain. It wasn’t an exciting infinity, but it was his. It was a long road, a family that waited for him, a shoulder to lean on. It was, at long last, a place to lay his weary head to rest.

#destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fix it #destiel fic #like fields of grain #this is on ao3 but i know if I post an external link tumblr will nuke it so #if you can't tell #I'm taking canon hostage and forcing it to pay reparations

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tenthgrove · 3 years

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Omg imagine la squadra with a teenage teammate 👀 (platonic obvs but I'm 18 and I wonder how they'd act with a team member that's a lot younger than them) cause I hc them as being in their late 20s early 30s ‼️

Okay I love love love this idea! I decided to go for the approach of a younger teenager, someone around 14 or 15 years old, and make them someone who is keen to prove themselves and be respected, but still has all the fears that would be natural for someone in this situation so young, hidden beneath the front they put on.

La Squadra Interacting with a Younger Teammate

Formaggio- The prospect of La Squadra’s next recruit being a kid is actually quite appealing to Formaggio. He doesn’t get much respect from the rest of the team, but he hopes a teenager would be more impressionable, more easy to wow. As soon as the newcomer is through the door Formaggio is already pulling out his cool uncle act. He’s always begging to show them something cool (usually just some random thing he shrunk) or tell them a gruesome story from the job. He totally forgets how naturally weary they’re going to be as someone who recently moved teams. When he finally realises how uncomfortable he makes them, he feels very guiltridden and backs away. But then one day, by pure accident, he makes them laugh. Genuinely. Things ease up a lot after that.

Illuso- Since he isn’t particularly good with kids, Illuso thinks it’s best to just treat them the same as he does any other teammate. This doesn’t go well, their interactions clunky and awkward as the newcomer is unsure how to respond. Eventually, Illuso realises too and decides he’s going to have to change tactic. What do teenagers like? Mischief? While the idea of taking the kid around the mirror world to wreck havoc on the base is tempting, it would not go down well with Risotto once he finds out. What else is there? Gossip? Yes, that could work. When Illuso finds himself alone with the kid with nothing else to talk about, he starts telling them all the dirty secrets he’s collected about his team over the years. There’s nothing age innappropriate, but it’s enough to break down the image the kid has of La Squadra as humorless, intimidating adults. The others soon notice a change in the kid’s behaviour and congratulate Illuso for helping them settle in, however it was he managed to do that. Well, that certainly wasn’t Illuso’s intention, but he’ll take the applause anyway.

Pesci- The arrival of the newcomer marks a big change for Pesci. He’s no longer the youngest of the group, both in age and in experience. While he’s glad to lose the associated teasing, it fills him with a sense of responsibility he isn’t quite ready for. Being the youngest in the group gave him a slight feeling of immunity for all his fuck-ups, both real and percieved, and that’s gone now. Worse, he sees this kid and he sees someone far newer to the game than he is yet somehow still able to face it with more courage than he does. The kid scares him, really. It feels like he is the junior member of the dynamic they have together. Then one day he finds their phone in the front room. He knows the others have a habit of pinching things like this for mean-spirited jokes, so he puts his anxiety regarding the kid on hold to go up to their room and give it back to them. He didn’t expect to find them crying there. He rushes up to them immediately, patting them on the shoulder nervously to offer some comfort. He asks them what’s wrong. “Everything. I’m scared.” At the end of the day, they really are just a child.

Prosciutto- The second-in-command doesn’t have time to mentor the newcomer to the same extent he does with Pesci, but he’ll still keep an eye on them whenever he can. Any of those violent idiots could teach them to kill, but Prosciutto’s going to make sure they learn to carry themselves right as well. For one, they need to get rid of those grungy hoodies and jeans they insist on wearing. He supposes he’ll just have to take them shopping. Overall, he can seem quite harsh on the kid, but he has their best interests at heart. He wouldn’t be paying them any mind at all if he didn’t have faith in them to go far.

Melone- As is only natural with his stand, Melone is good with kids. Teenagers are a different matter, and with little concrete memory of the whirl of heartbreak and emotions that were his own teen years, Melone isn’t as sure of himself as he would like to be. So he takes the experimental method, observes how their reactions to certain interactions in order to figure out the best way of keeping them at ease. It’s overall a good approach, and Melone becomes one of the earlier members of the team who the newcomer opens up to. The only issue is the others. They do not trust him. So, Melone takes it upon himself to prove himself. He makes a point of adjusting his behaviour, abandoning some of his more unsavoury habits for good, and not just in the kid’s present. The others are surprised, but pleasantly so. Melone is thankful to the newcomer for improving his standing with the team in general.

Ghiaccio- He is not happy. He knows about other teams getting actual children dumped on them, but he never thought it would happen to them. It makes him absolutely furious; the last thing this team needs right now is some petulant brat to take care of. Ghiaccio will give them the cold shoulder for a long time. Eventually, it takes Risotto dragging him into his office and point-blank asking what his problem is to make him reconsider. Ghiaccio drags his heels, insists he needs nothing to do with the newcomer, but then Risotto reminds him how young Ghiaccio was when he got trapped in his life. That changes things. That evening, as Risotto watches on silently from the doorway, Ghiaccio approaches the newcomer in the sitting room. “Hey… kid… do you like video games?” he asks uncertainly. The kid perks up, surprised to hear such an offer from Ghiaccio of all people. They accept. Ghiaccio invites them to play with him often after that. Risotto doesn’t need to ask him.

Risotto- Well, this is interesting. Risotto finds the kid hard to deal with because of how much he sees himself in them. They’re pretty much the same age he was when his own life went to hell. Risotto may have trouble facing the newcomer, but he’ll do it anyway for their sake. He wants to do what he can to make their own youth easier than his, if only by a fraction. For them, he’ll let down his walls and be a confidante. He’ll let them be honest about their fears with him, and he’ll comfort them to the best of his ability. He doesn’t want them to end up like him. He doesn’t want them to lose their humanity.

Sorbet and Gelato- “Sorbet, that’s a baby.” “Christ, you’re right.” Sorbet and Gelato may be devoid of sympathy towards a majority of humanity, but they at least have it in them to feel sorry for a kid. Especially a kid dumped into the closest thing the couple has to a family. Truth is, Sorbet and Gelato have long desired a child of their own, but never truly believed the opportunity would present itself. They know taking in a scarred teenager a few years off from adulthood will never truly take the place of a child to call their own, but if this is the closest they can get, they’ll take it. So yeah, congratulations kid, meet your new group assinged fathers. Sorbet is the more realistic of the two, the one who reluctantly accepts the need to prepare the newcomer for mafia life. They develop a dynamic somewhat comparable to Pesci and Prosciutto, with Sorbet becoming the primary mentor for the child when Risotto is too busy. Gelato is the one who really tries to baby the kid, trying to keep them away from their work as much as possible and always fussing over them whenever a mission can’t be avoided. The kid might be reluctant to accept it, but it is what they need. At least once in a while.

#la squadra #jjba golden wind #formaggio #illuso #pesci #prosciutto #melone #ghiaccio #risotto nero #sorbet and gelato

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qslovebot · 3 years

Text

Trivial Diffusion: Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and the reader have been pretending to be rivals for quite some time, jokingly taking shots at each other and trying to win games against each other to prove higher intelligence. One day, Spencer suggests they play something else and little do they know that game turns into a whole lot more play.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warning/Includes: playful hatred, friendly-fire rivalry, kissing, protected sex (hardly written), tension to smut to fluff.

A/N: lightly based on The Name of The Game, by ABBA

“You know what I think, Dr.Reid, is that secretly, deep, deep down in the skinny soul that fills your skinny body... you like me.” You teased, setting down your cards. That was it, the game was over, you had won.

Spencer Reid shook his head, “I would say we’re acquainted and not friends. Coworkers at worst.” He set down his cards to show you he had nearly nothing. Chances, chances, chances. “Derek, was she cheating? I think she was cheating.”

Derek Morgan was entirely asleep in his seat. It was just after the BAU had been sent on another big case and everyone had been working on it from the BAU until you all could get the jet. It was nearing nine o’clock but nearly everyone on the jet was sleeping from a day of overworking at home. All but you and ye of little faith. Hotch confirmed that the team didn’t start interacting with the police until tomorrow so that everyone could crash at the hotel before it all actually began, so it was a matter of time before everyone woke again.

Spencer was good at his games, knew probability well and could probably win against the averagely smart man, but not you. He could never beat you at cards and that nearly killed him, so every time you flew back to or from Quantico, he asked to play, hoping he would somehow win. This had been going on for months along with the little jokes and friendly fire you had with him. As much as you pretended to hate each other, you were both pretty transparent to the rest of the team.

“Sorry that I’m not your favourite member of the team,” you smiled at him playfully and tossed him the reorganized deck. He caught it with a small smile. “If you want, we can play something else and I’ll let you win.”

He shook his head and cracked his knuckles. “Battle of wits. Random trivia. I want to see you flail and drown.”

“Violent, Doc.” You raised your eyebrows at him. He had confidence in something just as risky- his mistake. There wasn't time, though. “We land in ten, though, so on the way home from this case if you’re up for it.”

“Are you too tired or are you afraid to lose?”

“Neither,” you sighed, cracking your knuckles. “Fine, you’re on.”

----

At the hotel, everyone was groaning and grumbling and ready to crash for the night. You guessed working from the BAU for two and a half days before getting to the case was too much for them, but with your cup of sugar with a little coffee, you were wide awake.

The second Hotch dolled out the keys, you grabbed Emily who was moving like a zombie and pulled her to her designated room. You were all lucky enough to get your own rooms on this case so once you dropped her and her bags off there then found your own room next to hers.

The first thing you did was pull yourself out of your office clothes and into your pyjamas. You slipped on long, flowy, pale blue, loose-fabric pants that felt cool against your skin as well as sat on your hips paired with a simple white tank top. You kept your bra on just to keep a little decency and let your hair fall down around your shoulders, brushing it through a little.

You were prepared to win against Spencer. That was it, flat out. You would win. You both were the geniuses of the team and he had been waiting for a moment to prove he was better than you in some way, but that would be his downfall. He wanted to win so desperately and you wouldn't let that happen.

It had been months of this snarky attitude from him that you know was only in play. Maybe this would make him give up when you won. You slipped out of your room and up to the door of the room you saw Spencer walk into. The knock you gave was quiet enough not to disturb anyone but him and it only took him a moment to answer, his lips pursed straight.

"Come in," he said, gesturing. You saw his eyes flicker over what you were wearing as he had probably never seen you so entirely casual. You narrowed your eyebrows at him as you slipped into his room.

The room was identical to yours but smelled a little different. "I love what you've done with the place, wow, Dr.Reid..." You joked, sitting on the edge of his bed. He shut the door slowly, pressing his back to it with that crooked smile of his. "So are you ready to lose?"

"I-I don't believe I am," he said, hands behind his back. Something was off... he didn't stutter when he was in that teasing pretend hatred. Never- it was always as if that was his comfort in trying to beat you. "Let's begin."

You raised your eyebrows and slid onto the floor at the edge of the bed and pat the spot in front of you against the wall. He didn't protest, in fact, he sat right down with his laptop.

"What's this?" You asked.

"This is Garcia who searched up trivia questions and will be asking us. To answer, we hit this button in front of us. If the answer is wrong, it goes to the other person. Got it?" Spencer set the computer up.

"Yeah..." you nodded, setting your eyes on Garcia. "Hey, Penelope!"

"If it isn't my favourite (Y/N)!" She exclaimed, blowing kisses through the screen. "I must admit I'm a little scared. Spencer here called me and he sounds like he's about to... murder you."

You looked up at Spencer through your eyelashes and back down at Penelope. "He's the one about to be murdered, Pen. Both of you, brace yourselves. I'm ready."

"And now I am even more scared, thank you for that Elton John and Madonna..." Penelope clicked through her computer.

Spencer looked at you now with confusion. For a genius, he wasn't very well-educated in celebrity culture. "This is why you're going down, Reid." You laughed.

His voice raised in pitch, "Because my-my-my name isn't Elton John and I don't understand the reference?" Oh, he was so going to lose.

Spencer set the button out. Convenient that he had them... maybe he'd been planning for this longer than you'd thought. Penelope on the screen sat to the right of you both and she had all her questions lined up. She did a little drumroll, then began.

"Name the number that is three more than one-fifth of one-tenth of one-half of 5,000, go!"

It took you a second but you and Spencer hit the button at the same time. "53!" You said in unison.

"Fuck!" You laughed, rubbing your eye.

There was a slight clicking noise on Garcia's end and you watched her face go from confusion to wide-eyed wonder. "You both are too smart for your own good-"

"Ne-Next question, please," Spencer said, his face in his hands. If the whole thing was like this, how would either one of you win?

More questions passed, some were ties, some were won by Spencer and some by you, but at the end of Penelope's list.. you had tied and it was 11:30pm. With each question, you felt the tension in the room worsen. Each loss, each win, your stomach had butterflies. Who was going to win this? You and Spencer, after an hour and a half of losses, wins, and ties and Garcia getting more scared by the second, you tied.

Then of course there were the tiebreakers which you both tied on. After five tiebreakers, Garcia was done. "Congrats, you're both smart as hell! I am tired, so I'll let you little birdies wrestle it out, just don't blame the injuries on me."

"Garcia, no-" Spencer protested, needing to win.

Penelope waved goodbye and Spencer reached for the laptop, but he couldn't stop her. "Garcia, out!" She ended the video call, leaving Spencer and you alone.

Well, nobody won now. Nobody lost either. Spencer, you could see he was done, just done. All the talk of winning and he really got so nervous he stuttered around you. You grinned, tilting your head against his bed and just laughing. Nobody won!

For some reason, the tension in the room was still thick. You noticed it when you finally stopped laughing at the circumstances when you looked at Spencer with his head in his hands. He wasn't really upset, he was just confused as to how it came to a draw with you like this.

"Was it my tits that threw off your game, Reid?" You teased, standing up and going to the coffee-maker in the corner of his room. "Is it okay if I have the Earl Grey here?"

"Yeah, that's- that's fine," he nodded, swallowing hard. His pretty face was still contorted into confusion. You hopped up on the counter and made the tea with the teabags complimentary to the hotel. "Did you cheat?"

"Did I what?" You laughed again, leaning over so your forearms resting on your thighs. "You think I have tricks up my sleeve, Reid, I'm not even wearing sleeves."

"My IQ tells me you should have lost."

"You and your noble IQ," you blew on your tea. "Want some tea?"

He rubbed his temples and stood up, walking over tiredly. You hadn't noticed what he was wearing at all, you'd been too focused on the trivia. He was wearing flannel pyjama pants and a large sweater. It was the most casual you'd seen him before. "Orange Pekoe, please."

"Got it," you turned and made him a cup of tea with the machine. You'd never really hung out with Spencer before away from work. On the jets, you were always still surrounded by coworkers. Even though you were alone with him earlier, Garcia's presence was there. Now it was just you, Spencer, and the tension that wouldn't seem to lift. It was unexplainable- how it was still there. What was it really and why wouldn't it thin out? "Here you go."

Through handing him the tea, your hands touched and you pretended to be disgusted by it for a laugh, but he just exhaled sharply. Spencer sat on the edge of his bed facing you on the counter, sweater sleeves over his hands that held the mug, curls falling over his face.

Why was he always looking like he was solving math questions in his head? When he drank his tea, you drank yours. Why were you even still in his room at all... he hardly liked you, he just wanted to win and now that neither of you had, you were still here? It was a question for both you and him, but would this question come to a draw as well?

"I don't think I've mentioned how much I like your hair, Reid." You said out of the blue. "I think I've been too focused on kicking your ass in every way possible to properly compliment you."

"You've never kicked my ass physically, so you can't say in every possible way if you-"

"I was trying to compliment you but if you want me to actually get up and kick you in the ass, I will." You threatened playfully. Spencer grinned down at his tea. "I just think you have nice hair and I am very jealous it's not mine." You opened and shut your fingers like a pair of scissors.

Spencer straightened himself out and shook his hair out of his face. "I- thank you?"

You nodded, "You're welcome."

No more words were said until you both finished your tea. Why were you still here? Why didn't he ask you to go and why did he keep looking at you with thoughts in his eyes and why the hell did the tension keep building? What was it leading to?

Spencer eventually stood up and placed his mug in the sink next to yours, standing next to where you sat on the counter. You looked at him through a strand of your hair that had fallen in your face and you moved it to better understand. He mirrored you for a second, pushing his hair behind his ear as well before asking that one, fatal question. The one question he gave, knowing that if you lost, he had won and if you answered correctly, you had won. It was the unofficial, official ending to the game, but at a risk.

"In the 1830s, what scientifically gifted woman led to the coining of the term 'scientist,' because 'man of science' didn’t apply?" He asked, his eyes narrowing in. This was it... damn it, your brain was scrambled... as to why? Unexplainable.

"Mary..." you said, grasping at something you knew but it was clouded by something else you couldn't recognize. As if a clock was ticking, your heart was pounding. "Mary, her name was Mary..."

Spencer just stood there, right next to where you sat on the counter as you searched, racking every inch of your brain to find it. You couldn't give up or else he had won and you'd never hear the end of it and he wouldn't play cards with you and you wouldn't have an excuse to talk to him... wait, where did all those thoughts come from.

"Reid, I have it, I know it, I just-"

He looked at the watch on his wrist, his loose curls falling over his face again. Goddamnit, Spencer Reid... You only had seconds as Spencer counted down. Mary... Mary Smith... Mary So- Mary Somer... Mary Somerville.

"One, ze-"

"Mary Somerville!" You said, maybe a little too loudly. But you knew it was too late. Spencer had won. You sat there, looking at your hands for a moment while he stood there in what seemed like shock at his winning, but the odd tension still pressed, even with your loss. It seemed like Spencer felt it too because you looked up at each other at the exact same time and it was a silently-made mutual decision that led to both your lips and his crashing into the other person's.

It happened so quickly- you opened your knees to allow him closer, your hands on either side of his face, holding his jaw as you kissed him with the same power he kissed you. His hands on your waist and knee. So this was what the tension lead to, huh?

Kissing him from slightly above him gave you the advantage of kissing harder, which he easily allowed and returned. You slid your fingers back into his hair, the hair you had so awkwardly complimented. Of course, you understood yourself and your awkward comments about his hair because in reality, you meant 'please kiss me already'.

There was no noise other than the travelling of hands, short breaths, and lips on lips in the room and that sound was much better than the entire silence from the moment before. Hatred was never hatred, not even when it was mock hatred. It was always that pending feeling of hidden lust that shied behind mockery and mindset. And it was fucking hot.

He didn't protest when you broke the kiss to pull his sweater over his head. He didn't care when you gripped his shoulder and pulled his hair with the other hand. All this time you'd spend pretending to be rivals was being released into the air in the means of pheromones and you were all he really wanted then, there, now.

It was becoming messier by the second as you pulled your tank top over your head and tossed it aside like you did his sweater. His hands of course travelled upward to where they needed to be. You'd thought him inexperienced, but perhaps you were wrong.

"I fucking hate you," you mumbled against his lips and tugging his hair, a grin playing on your lips as he reached to untie the strings of his pants. He looked up for a moment, his eyes were half-lidded but determined.

"I hate y-you too," he managed the same grin and pulled you back into that same kiss he performed so vehemently. Oh, he was a mess. Spencer Reid would be the death of you. His long fingers moved delicately over your body, leaving goosebumps over your chest and the feeling of ice trails on your hot skin. You wrapped your legs around him, keeping him trapped and close.

Your lips left his mouth, trailing down his cheek, then his jaw, below his jaw. His breath was sharp and your lips were teasing. He smelled good, too. If only you'd figured out things were supposed to be this way sooner...

Poor Doctor Reid's hands were so cold compared to your body. You let them explore as you continued to kiss and lightly bite his neck. It was your turn to ask the question of risk, "Do you want this, Reid?"

He nodded more than he needed to, kissing you properly again. "Yes." A solid, strict, and determined- yet lust-filled yes. It was signal enough. Kissing led to touching and more touching lead to breathing harder. You doubted Spencer Reid was a virgin at all with the way he knew exactly where to touch...

He didn't even bother taking you to the bed that was six feet away from the counter. He didn't care and neither did you and it took him a second to actually get going, but once he did, everything fell right into place. His touch was soft, but his hips rough. You were breathing hard as he went, doing everything perfectly with his perfect body and his perfect hair right back in his face. He looked like hell, but in the best possible way.

Spencer Reid was, in fact, the death of you. Everything was in haze- breathing, kissing, touches, thrusts, trying to be as quiet as you could but small whimpers slipped from your lips and occasionally noises from him. Your nails in his shoulder and on his back as he practically fell to pieces in front of you, coming undone the same way you did only seconds later. You had to physically cover your mouth to stay quiet.

The air became ten times hotter when he rested his head on your bare shoulder, not even bothering to pull out. He was there, you were there... you had just fucked the man who you had pretended was your enemy and god, was it good. You were surprised that this had happened at all, it was so unbelievably unguessed earlier. You just wanted to win and your loss came to a prize anyway.

He took a second to recover, then kissed your shoulder which was unexpected and oddly sweet. You thought it was rivalry sex to diffuse tension, but that wasn't how it felt to you anymore and... maybe not to him either. Spencer pulled out, discarding protection and cleaning himself up a little. No words were spoken now as he put his pyjama pants back on and you fixed yourself up too, slipping your legs into your loose pants and tank top back over your head.

You took a cup that was belonging to the hotel and filled it with water, then you slipped off the counter and handed it to Spencer. When he took it, he looked just like you probably had when he had kissed your shoulder. "Thank you." He said, blinking a few times. Were things awkward for him now? Was he expecting you to leave, now?

"I can go if you want me to, Spencer," you said, pointing back at the door. "If I've overstayed, I'm sorry."

"N-no-" he blurted, nearly spitting his water out. "No, you haven't overstayed, I like you here- I just... I don't know how good that was and my mind is kind of everywhere because it happened so quickly and it was all so-so-so unexpected and I... wow."

He ran a hand through his hair frantically, his fingers shaking a little. There were those butterflies again...

"Spencer, it was good. It was more than good, holy fuck." You assured him, stepping closer. He set down the cup of water. "You did so well, I can hardly-" Your shaking knee gave out at just the right time and he caught you by your hands before you hit the ground. "See?"

He was smiling that shy, crooked grin. Everything was ten times sweeter now and it seemed like maybe you didn't really need to pretend to hate him anymore. It's much easier to humiliate, degrade and just generally shit all over someone than it is to admit that you like them. But here you were, looking up at him.

"I told you, Dr.Reid, that somewhere deep down, you liked me."

"Coworkers at worst," he reminded you jokingly.

"You just fucked me nearly senseless, I don't think 'coworkers at worst' works on me anymore." You grinned, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ears. "Just kiss me again, Dr.Reid."

He didn't even hesitate to take your face in his hands, kissing you sweetly, a little different than earlier. This time he wasn't entirely frenzied by the rush and need to touch and grasp and this time, there was meaning... there was diffusion... and it was loving.

The only real issue was that tomorrow, both of you had to face a team full of profilers who would take greatly accurate guesses as to why you and Spencer suddenly got along.

Tags: @laurakirsten0502

Reblog if you liked, message to be on the taglist, reply with thoughts!

#spencerreid #spencer reid fanfiction #abba #criminalminds #criminal minds #cmfanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #aaronhotchner #bau #spencerreidfanfic #spencerreidsmut #spencer reid x reader #spencerreidtension #spencer reid fluff

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vivian24l · 3 years

Text

DamiraeWeek2021

Day One: Family/In-laws

The Second Wayne Reunion

Damian tapped his fingers against the wheel.

“Anxious?” asked Raven.

“You know how last year turned out. I was surprised Father agreed to another reunion this year.”

One year ago, Dick had come up with the idea of having a family reunion. He had invited the whole Wayne family together under one roof once again. The results of the party didn’t end so well. Dick clearly wanted to make the reunions annual, because he once again invited everyone.

Damian took another left. They had to drive across Gotham to reach Wayne Manor. After getting married, he and Raven bought a stretch of land on the other side of Gotham. Together they designed their house and hired people to build it.

Damian let out a sigh. “That bastard, Grayson.”

“Language,” said Raven.

He glanced at the rear view mirror. Their daughter, Rashida, was asleep in the back. Although, she could be pretending. Rashida is an intelligent child, more mature than her actual age. However, she does tend to do dangerous things.

They pulled up at Wayne Manor at long last. Rashida woke up instantly.

“We're here!” she announced. The five year old got out of their car immediately to stretch her legs.

“Rae! Watch this!” shouted Mar’i. She flew up into the sky while Rae watched from the ground. Mar’i shot a green starbolt at a low cloud. The cloud lit up in green light before evaporating into thin air.

“Impressive,” commented Rae. She joined her cousin in the air. The two girls turned the clouds green and purple.

Sitting in deck chairs, Raven and Koriand’r watched the kids flying around.

“Did you teach her that?” questioned Raven.

Kori let out a laugh. “Of course not, Mar’i and Jacob discovered it. Speaking of Jacob, where is he?”

It was Raven’s turn to laugh. “I saw him with Jackson, they were building something out of Legos. How do you not know what your son is doing?”

“I’ve been very busy lately,” Kori defended herself.

“Hey sisters! Mind if I join you?” Stephanie didn’t wait for an answer, she took a seat in a chair across from Kori. “Cass and Babs will be here with the food in a few minutes.”

“Is Valkyrie joining us this year?” asked Kori.

“She sure is! Val better not drop out last minute,” said the blonde. “I can’t believe Dick allowed her to skip last year. I mean, like seriously? This is a family reunion and therefore Val can not be missing out.”

“She was on a mission,” said Raven. “Then again, you can’t blame her, this family can be quite a handful.”

“Makes me wonder how we are able to put up with them,” joked Stephanie.

“How’s the cooking going?” asked Raven.

Damian turned around to face his wife. “Fairly well,” he answered.

Raven nodded. She took in the scene. Pots and pans were on the stove. A large bowl of lettuce sat on the counter. Nearby stood a container of tofu, waiting to be opened.

“Where’s Richard? I thought he’d be cooking as well,” said Raven.

Damian let out a “tt”. He stirred the soup inside a large pot. “Grayson left an hour ago, he said something about napkins.”

“You do know that not everyone here is vegetarian, correct?” questioned Raven as she noticed that there wasn’t a single speck of meat in any of the dishes.

“I also know that they will have to pay for making me cook a meal for twenty people.”

“21, actually,” corrected Raven. “Valkyrie’s running late.”

“And there I thought she would skip like last year.”

Raven grabbed a spare apron. “I suppose it’s up to me to save everyone from eating tofu turkey tonight.”

“How heroic.”

“Mother? Father?” called Rashida.

“We’re in the kitchen, ibna,” answered Damian.

“What are you making?” Rashida stood on the tip of her toes and watched as Raven mixed together the stuffing for the turkey.

“Dinner. Would you like to help, love?” asked Raven.

“Actually I can not,” said Rashida.

“And why is that?”

“Mar’i and I are in need of some pots. We’re going to make popcorn the old fashioned way! But instead of making a fire, we’ll be heating it with our powers,” explained Rashida..

“Is anyone supervising you?” asked Damian.

“Of course, Uncle Jason’s helping us.” Rashida pulled a large pot out of the cabinet. “This will do perfectly,” she said. “Good luck on your cooking!”

“Should I be concerned that Jason is overseeing their popcorn-making?” asked Damian.

“You should have some faith in him,” said Raven.

“I think we’re done here,” said Raven.

Damian nodded. “This should be enough food for the whole family, including leftovers for everyone to take home.”

They have made a total of twelve different dishes, two-thirds of which are plant-based. Raven have also made five different types of pastries for dessert.

They left the kitchen to join the rest of the family in the living room. Selina was reading a book to her grandchildren. Rashida, however, was not with her cousins, she was throwing knives with her uncle. They took turns throwing from different positions, each time getting bullseye on the target board.

“Why couldn’t our daughter have some non-violent interests,” sighed Raven.

Damian smiled. “She’s the granddaughter of the first Batman and Trigon, and great granddaughter of Ra’s Al Ghul. And I should add that her adoptive grandfather also happens to be Superman. So I would say that throwing a few knives is perfectly fine.”

“I just want her to have a childhood full of peace and innocence, unlike ours,” Raven murmured.

“She is habibti, she is.” Damian held his wife close. They seated themselves on the couch and silently watched the scene before them.

The peace in the room could not be contained for long. Dick burst through the door holding a large bag.

“Guess what I got?” he sang.

Rashida didn’t even spare her uncle a glance. “A bag full of games,” she answered.

“Uh, yeah. Great guess, Rae,” stuttered Dick. It still intrigued him how she knew what was inside. Well she is her parents’ daughter.

Dick laid out the contents on the table. There was a wide variety of games from classic card games to Twister.

The doorbell rang as soon as he took out the last game.

“That must be Val!” Kori rose to answer the door.

A minute later, the said woman arrived in the room. She could’ve been a younger version of Cassandra, except her features are more sharp. The youngest of the Wayne siblings, Valkyrie was adopted at the age of thirteen. That was ten years ago.

She came just like her oldest adoptive brother, holding a large bag. All the kids, including Rashida, ran over to see what was inside.

“Alright, settle down first,” Valkyrie said. She pulled out four colorfully wrapped boxes and handed one to each of the kids.

Mar’i opened her box and gasped in surprise. “Thank you so much Aunt Val! They’re beautiful.” The twelve year old has received silver bracelets, similar to her mother’s, but with detailed markings on them.

When Jackson opened his box, his jaw dropped. Inside was a Build-Your-Own 3-Dimensional Holographic Projector. “Thank you Aunt Val!” said the eight year old.

Jacob’s gift was eight limited edition action figurines. “How did you-? How is this-?” The boy was so shocked to see eight expensive figurines, that were probably worth a hundred dollars each, in front of him.

“I have my ways, little one,” answered Valkyrie.

“Thank you so much,” he said, giving Valkyrie a big hug.

“Your welcome, and please I’d like some personal space.”

Rashida slowly opened her box. Inside was a white cloak. The fabric was quite unusual. It was soft, stretchy, thin, and light. Yet the fabric also felt strong, and sturdy. The bright ruby glowed in the golden clasp. Unlike Raven’s cloak, this one had sleeves. The hems and cuffs of the cloak were embroidered with intricate designs. Rashida slipped on the cloak, it fitted perfectly. “Thank you, Aunt Valkyrie,” said the five year old.

“There are no gifts for your siblings? Wow, how kind of you,” spoke up Jason.

Valkyrie smiled. “Of course not, only ones for the kids,” she pulled out two more boxes, “and the parents.”

Selina and Bruce gave her their thanks then proceeded to open their gift. Silent received a full set of cat themed jewelry, while Bruce received a grey tie.

“I actually needed a new tie,” he said.

#damirae week 2021 #damirae #damian wayne #ravenroth #damian x raven #demonbirds #rashidawayne #batfam

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