Slotted against his, Bulma’s mouth felt like his missing puzzle piece. Never could Vegeta have imagined that this single action could cause his soul to swell beyond his body. Her arms were still locked around his neck, holding fast as though he would evaporate and vanish, or worse, just keep running away from her forever. Bulma was preventing this with every ounce of her strength, but what she didn’t realize was that he couldn’t move even if he wanted to.
Though his body was frozen in place, Vegeta’s mind was a whirling dervish; torn between the primal urge to throw this beautiful creature over his shoulder and scream a victory cry, or collapse in the fetal position curled up against her and sob. It was leaning dangerously in favor of the collapse when she began to pull away from him. On their own accord, his lips helplessly trailed after her. Vegeta’s eyes opened to find Bulma looking at him, lips slightly parted and flushed, “You okay?” She breathed.
All he could do was stare at her, chest shaking with each gulp of air. Was he having a heart attack? Is that what that fluttering in his heart meant?
“Vegeta?” Bulma was starting to look nervous, “Was that too much? Oh God, I’m so sorry,” she stepped away from him, hands wringing nervously, “Damnit, I’m such an idiot.”
Bulma sniffed, wiping the corner of one eye, “I’m so, so sorry. I crossed the line. God, I hope you can forgive me.”
She was gathering her shawl. Now she was putting it on. Was she leaving? No! This wasn’t what was supposed to happen!
Her back was to him, head bowed as she picked up her keys from their place on the kitchen counter, “If you never want to speak to me again, I understand.” Her well manicured fingers were on the door knob, turning it and pulling the door open.
He should move. He should be running. Why wasn’t he? He wanted her. She in some capacity wanted him. The overwhelming feelings inside him must have short circuited something. Vegeta’s brain was screaming at his useless extremities to do something, anything, but before he could his apartment door was wide open.
She was looking at him over her shoulder in the doorway, sky blue eyes filled with tears, “Sorry,” she whispered again, and then closed the door behind her.
Vegeta was still as a statue, staring in quiet disbelief at the now empty place where Bulma had stood. Gone. She was gone.
And it was his fault.
He had fucked everything up.
Why didn’t he respond? Why didn’t he stop her? All it would have taken was a word, a kiss from him, anything…
An ache started in his jaw; he realized he was grinding his teeth together. Vegeta needed something, anything to set his mind straight. Almost robotically he picked up a discarded t shirt from his floor, snatched his own keys and stormed out of the apartment and down the stairs, scrolling with near desperation through his recent calls.
A ring came through the speakers, once, twice, three times before a sleepy voice answered:
“Kakarot, gym. Now.”
“Wha-now? It’s almost eleven…”
Vegeta hung up; he knew his sparring partner would come. He always did. The need to pound out his confused feelings was outweighing any other desire at this point, and he knew that before he faced Bulma, he had to face himself first.
The moment Goku walked into the gym he knew something was wrong.
Vegeta was throttling a punching bag, which in itself wasn’t that odd, but the blood smears across the surface of it gave the normally flippant man pause. His gym buddy always had a routine: be ten minutes early, drink a bottle of water, wrap his knuckles, and then do work. The fact that Vegeta had missed part of his ritual let Goku know that it was going to be a long night.
Instead of greeting the smaller man with a clap on the shoulder like he normally did, Goku walked to the opposite end of the bag and held it steady, giving a small nod and let Vegeta continue his assault. No words were exchanged for the rest of the session. Though Goku knew he wasn’t the smartest when it came to traditional education , he at least had the common sense to realize that whatever Vegeta was going through had him hot and bothered. And a hot and bothered Vegeta was a dangerous one. The lawyer had a reputation still, even though his teen years were long gone.
When they were younger, the two had run wild across the city together. While Goku had his grandfather to lean on and didn’t purposefully(that being the key word) get into trouble, Vegeta sought it out. Desperate, almost anxious for any kind of attention Vegeta had managed to get into more scrapes than anyone thought humanly possible. Goku had felt a certain responsibility to the older, flame-haired youth despite other people’s grumblings and curses. All had given up on Vegeta.
Except for Goku.
Or, ‘Kakarot’ as Vegeta referred to him. He’d always wondered why 'Geets never referred to him as the name he was best known by. There had always been the allusion that the smaller man knew more about Goku’s past that he let on. Maybe Kakarot was his birth name. Goku had known he was adopted from very early on and didn’t really care. His happy-go-lucky attitude had gotten him out of some tough situations and thrown into others. All the while the man on the other side of the punching bag had been by his side, either fighting alongside him or punching Goku in the face.
Friendship was complicated.
After some pretty heavy sparring and about two hours later, Goku laid back on the mat and puffed out a breath of air, “I’m throwin’ in the towel. Chichi was already mad when I left. Any longer and I’m sure I’ll be in for it.” He raised his head, only to see Vegeta leaned back against the wall looking at the floor.
“Fine. Goodnight, Kakarot.”
Odd, Goku thought. No calling him weak for going home? “Hey man, whatever is-”
“Shut up.” Vegeta interrupted, crossing his arms, “just, don’t say anything. It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothin’,” Goku said, rolling onto his knees, “but, whatever is going on, you can figure it out, ya’ know? You’ve had worse.”
Vegeta snorted, but at least he was looking at him now, “You’re an optimistic fool.”
Chuckling, Goku rubbed the back of his neck and picked up his gym bag, “Well, better to be optimistic than sulk ya’ know? Sulking doesn’t get ya’ anything. It just makes ya’ feel worse. At least havin’ faith gives ya’ something to look forward too, instead of deciding you’ve already quit. And you’re not a quitter, 'Geets.”
“Pfft.” Shaking his head, Vegeta smirked, “Like I said, optimistic fool.”
The larger man shrugged, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, “Well, somethin’ has gotten’ ya’ this far hasn’t it? Anyways, see ya’ Tuesday?”
Vegeta nodded, picking up his cell phone from the top of his gym bag. After a few seconds of staring at it he grunted and put it back down. Goku smiled knowingly, “It’s that girl, isn’t it? The picture on your phone you’re always lookin’ at?”
Goku chuckled, “Alright, alright. Night.” And with a wave over his shoulder, he exited though the gym doors into the evening air, leaving Vegeta perplexed as to how someone so spacey could leave him feeling more grounded than anyone.
The apartment was dead silent when he entered, the air smelling of the food Bulma had brought over from the restaurant. He’d forgotten about it, and it sat tepid and abandoned on the coffee table. Vegeta swallowed, then turned down the hallway towards his room. He didn’t want to deal with that tonight. Maybe in the morning.
Showering with the water as cold as possible distracted his mind, but that only lasted for as long as the shower did. The moment he stepped out, the heaviness settled back into his thoughts. Maybe sleep would help.
After laying awake and staring at the ceiling for half-an-hour, he realized that it would only be her that occupied his dreams that night. And that made him uncomfortable. What were his feelings for her? Bulma was very pretty, so there was that, obviously. And she was smart. And kind to him, as he was to her. The fact that he’d never once turned her away made him realize that he was far more attached to her than previously believed.
His phone was charging on the nightstand beside him. She hadn’t text him. Not once. The two would normally text until she fell asleep. It made him feel hollow inside without that contact.
Vegeta reached for the phone and sent a quick text:
“I can’t sleep.”
Quickly, he put the phone back on the nightstand, tucking his hands behind his head. Why was his heart racing?
A minute went by.
He picked his phone back up, then opened his messages. It said the text had been read.
But she hadn’t responded.
Vegeta’s gut churned. Bulma always responded to his texts. Why hadn’t she? Was she angry with him? She had every right to be if he was being honest with himself. What a selfish asshole he was. She’d thrown herself at him, and what did he do? Gawked at her like some clueless, love sick teenager-
Oh. Oh no.
Then the incoming text bubble appeared. Vegeta inhaled loudly, sitting straight up in bed, completely transfixed at the silly gray bubbles. She was responding. Everything would be alright.
Then it disappeared.
And he waited, the minutes ticking by.
The clock on his phone hit three Am. An hour had passed.
Vegeta settled back on his pillow, eyes growing heavy, still watching that text screen.
When the sun began rising he was fast asleep, phone held tightly against his chest, just in case it vibrated against him.
“Thanks.” Draco Malfoy nods at the bartender, whom had just slid a glass of firewhiskey his way. His fingers wrap around the beverage before he brings it to his lips, feeling the slightly soothing burn as it glides down his throat.
Draco feels frozen in place. His eyes stay glued to the alcohol quivering in his cup as he struggles to swallow the massive lump in his throat. He knows that voice. And he doesn’t want to face the person behind it.
He decides to ignore it, hoping with every nerve in his body that he’ll give up and leave.
The use of his full name sends a shiver down Draco’s spine, and he’s left with no choice but to turn around. When he spins around on the bar seat, his eyes immediately fall on Harry Potter, who is standing wearing a leather jacket draped over a red flannel.
Draco’s blue eyes scan Harry’s body, taking in the sight of the boy he hadn’t seen in years. “Potter,” he breathes, more of a statement than a greeting.
He continues to stare, waiting for Harry to fidget - but he never does. That irritates Draco to his very core, as he has always liked having the upper hand.
“Well, if you’re not going to invite me to sit with you,” Harry says, finishing his thought by shrugging off his jacket and taking a seat directly to Draco’s right. The blonde boy sighs, swiveling back to face the bar.
“For the record,” Draco says, before taking a large sip of his firewhiskey. “I didn’t invite you to sit down.”
Harry shoots him a sarcastic smile, his left eyebrow raised, before ordering a drink for himself.
“So, what are you doing here, by yourself?” Harry asks, sipping his cup.
Draco clenches his jaw, despising the way Potter asked that so naturally, and had managed not to sound intrusive. Prying his eyes from the remaining liquid in his glass, he glances at Harry, his eyes drifting to his brown curls. “I could ask you the same thing,” Draco responds, before downing the rest of his drink.
“Fair enough,” Harry says. His emerald eyes seem to drift over Draco’s face before he adds, “Let me buy you a refill.”
For the first time that night, the corners of Draco’s mouth curve into a small smile. “Are you hitting on me, Potter?”
Harry simply shrugs, and Draco can’t help but envy his complete confidence.
“What happened to the Weasel girl?” Draco asks, purely to push the Golden Boy’s buttons.
“You know, I don’t think you’re actually as bitter as you act,” Harry retorts, taking another sip of alcohol without tearing his eyes from Draco’s face.
“What?” Draco says, thrown off by the sudden comment and shift of topic. He furrows his eyebrows, avoiding Harry’s gaze.
“I think this cold exterior you have is just a front you put up. You probably always have.”
Draco’s at a loss for words, and he can’t seem to get any sound past his throat. After stuttering for a bit and trying to hide the fact that Harry Potter might have seen directly through him, Draco turns back toward the bar and lets out a small sigh.
“Ginny and I broke up, by the way. It was mutual.”
When Draco turns back to face him, he can see Harry’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows hard, looking down at the fingers on his right hand, which are fidgeting with his flannel sleeve.
Draco considers all the possible responses he could hurl back, but in the end he decides to go with: “I’ll take you up on your offer. For a refill.”
A few drinks in, and the former enemies are laughing with each other as if they’d been close friends for years.
The blonde boy peers at Harry’s right arm, which now sits bare on the table after Harry had rolled back both his sleeves.
The tattoo intrigues Draco, and he’s not sure why. It appears to be a large star, surrounded by smaller ones in a beautiful pattern that Draco could only dream of being able to draw.
“What does it mean?” he asks, nodding in the direction of the star, his pale fingers wrapped tightly around his third glass of firewhiskey.
“Oh,” Harry breathes, looking down at it himself. Draco can’t help but notice that Potter’s grin shrinks to almost half of what is was before. He’s about to apologize for asking, but Harry answers, “It’s Sirius. The largest star in the night sky,” he says, his smile growing again. “I got it for -”
Harry looks at Draco as if he’s peering into something he’d never seen before. Draco squirms slightly in his seat, clearly overwhelmed by the intensity of Harry’s green gaze. “Yeah,” the brunette breathes, his eyes not faltering from Draco’s.
After what feels like an eternity, Harry leans back in his seat. “How about you, Malfoy?” he asks, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Any tattoos?”
Draco simply shakes his head, taking another sip from his drink.
“So just that hole in your lip, then,” Harry says, twirling the ends of one of his curls with his fingertips.
Draco instinctively starts messing with his lip ring, sucking the cool metal into his mouth for a second. He notices Harry staring.
“What was it, a spontaneous act of rebellion?”
It sounds odd to hear the word rebellion used like that by someone who was the center of an entire war. The right side of Draco’s mouth turns up into a smirk. “Sure.”
Really, he had been absolutely hammered the night he got the piercing, as a result of a disagreement with his father. But the next morning, he didn’t exactly hate the way it looked.
“It seems like we’ve both changed, don’t you think?” Harry says, tracing his right index finger along the rim of his empty glass.
Draco looks at him; his lips part. He shakes his head and says, “I don’t think so.”
Draco Malfoy isn’t quite sure how he ended up kissing Harry Potter inside of a cluttered broom cupboard, but he didn’t exactly resist it.
He can taste the alcohol residing on the Golden Boy’s soft lips; enjoys the pungent taste as he threads his pale fingers through Harry’s brown curls.
Draco can feel Harry’s steady hands on his neck, his chest, his waist. He smiles into their kiss, a smile that he never in a million years thought would arise.
His fingers move to trace the ink covering Harry’s veins, just as the other boy finds Draco’s lip ring. There happens to be a broom handle poking Draco’s lower back, but he couldn’t care in the slightest.
Harry breaks away for a spilt second. “Do you want to-”
“Yes,” Draco whispers, just desperate enough to make Harry crash his mouth back onto his.
It really doesn’t matter what the question was.
The following morning, sunlight leaks through the curtains as Draco wakes up in his bed, white cotton sheets wrapped around his torso and a fresh magenta mark curved underneath the skin of his jaw.
He wakes up in his empty bed.
Draco’s hand flies to his forehead; his fingers trace small circles to keep himself calm. He wonders if it was all a dream. A random, incoherent dream where he’d slept with -
“You’re awake,” Harry says from the doorway.
Draco’s blue eyes dart in his direction, and he tries to convince himself that Harry Potter is really leaning against his bedroom door frame, holding two steaming mugs in his hands.
Draco can’t help but recognize his own sweatpants, hung dangerously low on Harry’s hips.
Harry carefully walks over, watching the liquid in the cups so he won’t spill. The mattress curves downward next to Draco as Harry sits, saying, “I didn’t know if you like coffee or tea in the morning, so I made both.”
The grin on Draco’s face stretches for miles. He wonders again if this is a dream, but the aroma of the coffee he takes from Harry’s warm hand is far too rich and vivid for Draco to be unconscious.
“Thanks,” Draco says, before taking a long sip of the coffee. Harry smiles in response and raises the mug of tea to his lips.
“So I was thinking,” Harry says, as Draco glances up at the brown mess of hair atop his head.
“That can’t be good,” Draco says quickly, before Harry can finish. Harry dramatically rolls his eyes as Draco takes a second sip of the hot beverage.
“I want to ask you out on a date.”
Draco nearly chokes on his coffee, and it brings a sharp sting to his nose.
“What?” Harry asks. “Why is that so hard to picture?”
Draco clears his throat. “It’s not,” he reassures, biting his lower lip. “You just caught me off guard.”
Harry flashes that golden grin, gripping the cup of tea near his lap. “Are you scared, Malfoy?”
Draco smiles, raising his eyebrows. “You wish.”
hi guys!! i’m so sorry i’ve been gone for a little while. i’ve been super busy. i really missed writing on here!! p.s. i hit 2k followers today and I just want to say thank you all for taking the time to read the words that spew out of my brain :))
Jamie’s heart fluttered in time with the vibrations of his phone. When Claire told him that she would talk to him later, ‘later’ ended up being a mere 4 hours. The longest 4 hours, Jamie thought.
He glanced around the small office, making sure his brother wasn’t looking, before replying.
J: You know you don’t have to, right? It really wasn’t that big of a deal.
Her reply was almost immediate. She must be on lunch.
C: Hush. It’ll make me feel better. Anyway, I’m taking you to dinner on Friday.
His heart drummed out an uneven rhythm. Dinner? On a Friday? Wasn’t that kind of like…
Before he could make a fool of himself by asking that question, she added:
C: And there’s no room for argument. :)
Well, he didn’t really feel like arguing with that.
J: Alright, Sassenach. You may take me to dinner.
C: We’ll sort out the details later. Got students coming in!
“Who’s Claire?” Jamie jumped. He wasn’t aware of his brother peeking behind him.
“Sort out the details for what?”
“What are ye doing over here?”
“Weel, I saw ye looking at her phone with the stupidest grin in yer face. So, I came to investigate. Do ye have a date?” Willie nudged his shoulder, eyebrows waggling.
“Shut it. No. She’s…she’s just a kind woman…”
“That’s taking ye on a date?”
“No! I…” Jamie sighed. “I dinna ken.”
“I can ask Jenny,” Willie suggested, only halfway joking. Being the mathematical genius he was, his way with women was stereotypically awful. How he managed to convince a woman to marry him was mind boggling.
“Ye’ll do no such thing. Ye ken how she is.” Jamie cleared his throat, and pitched his voice upward in imitation of his sister. “‘Oh, Jamie, when can we meet her? Is she good to ye? Tell me all about her. We should have her over for dinner on Sundays.’”
“Ye better not let her hear you mocking her so. But, I get yer point. I’ll no tell her. But…” Willie paused, mouth twitching, wanting to ask. Jamie cocked his eyebrows and nodded. “Weel, can ye tell me something about her?”
“Her name is Claire, we met at the park. She’s a professor. She pretty and funny, but I dinna ken much else about her.” Willie’s eyes softened, their stormy color calming.
“Sometimes, ye dinna need to know anything else.”
“Okay, time’s almost up. Don’t pack up yet, I’m not finished! Remember, make sure to study a little everyday. I was disappointed in many of the last test scores. Just, a tiny review every night. It’ll help you in the long run. Now, get out of here! See you on Wednesday!” Claire grinned at her students as they filed out of the lecture hall. As the last one disappeared, she sighed in relief. Last class of the day. Thank God. Freshman were exhausting: old enough to know better, not old enough to care, as they say.
She glanced over at the phone on her desk. No reply. Of course, she didn’t really expect him to. She told him she had a class. It was still disappointing.
Should she text him? Let him know that she was done for the day? Or, was that too forward?
God, she wasn’t very good at this.
Speaking of the devil–or thinking, as it were–her phone lit up with his name.
J: Busy day?
She smiled, then. A full, stupid, toothy smile. Thank god she was alone.
C: Always. And you?
She waited impatiently for his reply.
J: Nah. I let my brother Willie do all the work today ;)
C: At least you’re honest :P Will I see you at the park this evening?
The reply was almost instantaneous.
J: Of course.
C: Great! We can get our plans together for Friday.
C: Remember, no arguing!
J: I’m not! Did you see me argue? I just made a face!
C: Whatever! See you in a little bit. And get some work done!
She giggled, enjoying their flirtations. He seemed less inhibited behind a screen, and she felt less shy. Would their banter continue when they spoke in person again?
She hoped so.
“What are you laughing at?” Claire turned to find Mary in the doorway, blue eyes wide and curious. Mary worked at the primary school across the street from campus, so she liked to visit Claire when she could.
“Mary, you’re early! How did you make it so fast?”
“I power walked. Who are you talking to?” She motioned to the phone in Claire’s hand.
“Oh, um. A friend.”
“A man friend?” Mary quirked an eyebrow.
“Yes. A male friend.”
“An attractive man friend?” Her eyebrow wiggled up and down.
Claire groaned. “Yes, he is. Very attractive.”
Mary pulled a chair up to the desk, and plopped in it, getting comfortable. She rested her head on her fists and looked at Claire expectantly. “Do tell.”
“Well…” How should she begin? “We… met in the park.” I stalked him in the park. “We exchanged numbers. I accidentally called him in the middle of the night instead of Lamb. So, I told him I’d make it up to him. WithDinnerOnFriday.” Mary gaped, surprised, but not unpleasantly so.
“Like a date?”
“I didn’t say ‘date.’ Do you think he thinks it’s a date?”
“Do you want it to be?” Did she want it to be? Jamie was handsome, no question. And, from what she could tell, was sweet with a good sense of humor. But, he wasn’t the kind of man she usually went for.
“I don’t know. He’s not…my type, I guess?” Mary gave her a sympathetic look from under her lashes.
“Claire…Don’t take this the wrong way… But maybe you need a different ‘type.’ The men you’ve been with are…”
“Cheaters and scum?” Claire offered. She said this jokingly, but she knew the truth of it down deep in her taped up heart. Scenes flashed before her eyes: a boyfriend’s wild hair between a petite blonde’s legs, a break up text lighting her phone, her ex-fiance’s note: I’m sorry. I can’t. -F. No, her experience with men was…abysmally awful.
“I was going to say ‘not right for you.’ But your phrase is more accurate.” That was putting it nicely. Of course, Mary was always nicer than necessary. “How is he not your type, anyway?”
“He’s… he’s an artist. And, I tend to go toward sciencey, history, math guys. And, he’s just so… he’s passionate, you know? You can see it immediately in his eyes. They pour emotion. And, you know me. I’m not… I’m guarded, kind of.”
Mary contemplated. “He sounds romantic,” she admitted with a sigh. “If I didn’t have Alex…”
Claire slapped her lightly on the arm. “Mary! I’m telling!”
Mary giggled. “No, no! I’m only joking!” And then, more serious: “I think you should give Artist Guy a chance. How can you find love without any risk?”
“His name is Jamie. And I never said anything about love.”
“Maybe not now. But perhaps you will later. You deserve it.”
He was waiting for her when she arrived. When she saw him, her face broke into a smile that crinkled her eyes.
“Hey! How was yer day?”
She rolled her eyes. “Just another Monday. How was yours?”
“Oh, it was fine. So, about this dinner…”
“Oh, yes! Let’s walk and talk.” Without eating for a response, she began walking along the paved trail that circled the park. “So, I was thinking… does 7 o'clock sound okay to you?”
“Oh, um, aye. I get off work at 5, so yes.”
“Great! Now, since this is your dinner…” Jamie gave her a look at this, which she studiously ignored. “I figured you could pick where we go. What’s your favorite place?”
“Ohhh, I dinna ken. Can I tell ye later?”
“Sure, no problem.”
The walked in companionable silence, the sun slowly setting behind the trees.
“Claire…” She turned to him, her eyes sparkling in the low light. “I just… I was thinking… I dinna ken much about ye.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Ohhh, I dinna ken…”
She squinted at him, and nodded. “My name is Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. My favorite color is green. I’m a professor. I love strawberries, but hate strawberry ice cream.”
She held out her hand for a handshake, and he took it. “My name is James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. My favorite color is blue. I work with my brother Willie at Fraser Designs. I love strawberries and strawberry ice cream.
She grinned at that. “Well, James, I suppose we aren’t total strangers anymore.”
So! Some of you were really salty I did a Bonkaifan preview and not an SE update and some of you were wondering where the hell the review for 1x08 is. Well, I’m doing the review now and I wrote an SE one shot which I was going to upload yesterday but work got in the way, lol. It’s fulfilling one of many one shot requests, which was for me to do a drabble/one shot of Elena showing up to the Steroline wedding. I hope you enjoy it!
Stefan paced the room, loosening and re-tightening his tie, rolling his shoulders back; the suit felt too tight even though he new it couldn’t be — Caroline had made him promise to have his clothes tailor-made for the wedding. Anyway, it wasn’t just the suit — it was the room, everything felt small and close, he was hot and he couldn’t breathe, he was agitated and anxious. No. Those were the wrong words. Excited and nervous. That was what was how he felt. It was his wedding day, a certain level of anxiety was to be expected. He gritted his teeth. He felt like climbing walls. Patches of sweat dampened his shirt — a less desirable side effect of being human once more. Everything felt so claustrophobic, he was suffocating —
Stefan paused. He exhaled. He relaxed.
After a moment he furrowed his eyebrows and turned around.
She stood in the doorway, blue jeans and sneakers, red tank-top, cropped leather jacket — the spitting image of the memory he carried of her in his head. The sight of her made Stefan feel faint and his knees threatened to buckle beneath him, it was as if a dream had found its way into reality just to torment him. But he knew it was real. The intensity with which his heart ached told him so. He couldn’t even be happy to see her, he couldn’t even embrace her, feel her realness, he couldn’t be anything but angry.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said finally.
Elena didn’t look surprised by his words, she only nodded slightly. “I know,” she said, inching into the room and closing the door behind her. “I just …” She swallowed hard. “I heard what was happening and I just wanted to say congratulations.”
Stefan nodded. He felt like he was going to keel over. “Thank you,” he said.
Elena smiled slightly. She walked over to him with slow, almost brittle steps. When she was only a foot away from him, her smile widened as he stared down at her.
“Congratulations,” she said again.
She stood up on tiptoe and hugged him and Stefan pressed her against his torso. He could feel Elena nestle her head into the crook of his neck and he closed his eyes at the familiar sensation of her nestled in his arms — he hadn’t realized how desperately he’d longed to hold her all these years, how his entire body felt devoid of real warmth i her absence. The piece of himself he’d been missing all this time had finally found its way back and he felt like himself again, felt whole, felt complete. It was Elena. He wasn’t truly living unless he was living with her. He —
Stefan’s eyes snapped open and he took a step back, shaking his head. “Why couldn’t you say congratulations at the reception like everyone else?”
Elena exhaled heavily. “I woke up and I was alone and I saw an RSVP on the kitchen counter and I just …” She closed her eyes. “I needed to see you before it happened. Before you became hers.”
Stefan glared at her. “And what about what I need? What about what’s best for me?”
“What are you —?”
“I never stopped loving you, Elena,” said Stefan sharply.
She pressed her lips together, silently screaming at the fact that the words she always wanted to hear were the words that also hurt her the most because nothing could be done about them.
“I know you know that. Everyone knows that. Caroline knows that. And you came anyway? I can’t see you today.”
“You think it’s easy for me seeing you here? Easy for me to wake up after how many years to find out you’re marrying my best friend? Well it isn’t, Stefan. I feel awful and I feel awful for feeling awful but I thought —”
“No, I thought, Elena. I thought that this would be us.” Stefan gritted his teeth and hung his head. “For a long time, I thought somehow, some day you and I would end up together and the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do was accept that that wasn’t going to happen.”
Elena’s felt her throat tighten but she bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying. Stefan’s stare blazed with raw intensity. “You being here is messing with my head and that isn’t fair to Caroline.”
“I don’t want to hurt Caroline. Or Damon.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I never stopped loving you either, Stefan,” said Elena. “Did you really think I did? No matter how serious it got with Damon, no matter how much you tried to take a step away from me, you were always with me, you never went away, it wasn’t even something I could begin to fight, I never don’t love you. I just—”
“What did you say?”
“I needed time.”
Stefan’s eyes widened and Elena put her hands to her head. “And what was I supposed to do, wait for you to fall out of love with my brother?”
“No, of course not —”
“He was going to take the cure for you, you two were going to have a human life together.”
“I wouldn’t have let him do it.”
“You made a choice, Elena.”
“And so did you! You’re marrying my best friend.”
“And you slept with my brother!”
“I know!” said Elena.
Stefan paused and looked at her. “I didn’t want to cause any problems between you and Damon.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“I didn’t want to pine for you and haunt your steps and make you feel guilty for us not being together.”
Her tone flattened. “I know.”
“I wanted to be happy again. I wanted a life.”
“I know,” she gasped.
“I love her,” said Stefan. “Caroline? I do love her. It’s not, it’s won’t be, it’s —”
“I know, Stefan, I know,” said Elena. “I just… “ She cleared her throat. Her face was getting hot. She couldn’t cry. “I love you so much and I had to see you before it happened. I want you to be happy, Stefan, I want you to be so so happy because you deserve everything and Caroline is great, she’s kind of the perfect woman.”
Stefan stared at her.
“That’s what I wanted to say,” said Elena. “Be happy.” She turned around and opened the door and before he could think twice about what he was about to say, Stefan started to speak.
“I’ll … I’ll never love anyone the way I love you, Elena,” he said. “I just … I can’t. You’re the love of my life.”
She paused at the door and turned her head to face him. “And don’t ever think I could ever love anyone the way I love you. You’re the one. The minute you bumped into me in the hallway I knew you were the one.” She smiled sadly. “You make a dapper groom Stefan Salvatore.” And then she left, closing the door.
When Elena heard the door click behind her, she bent over and started hyperventilating, trying to catch her breath. She didn’t even hear the footsteps in the hallway.
“Elena? Elena is that you?”
Get it together, Elena, please, get it together. She stood up, subtly trying to control her breathing as she did. “Bonnie?”
They stared at each other for a moment, both of them paralyzed in a shocked happiness and then they ran toward each other and hugged.
Elena smiled. “I’ve missed you,” she said.
“I can’t believe this. How is this possible?” said Bonnie. “How did you—?”
“I … I don’t know, I thought you did it!”
“No,” said Bonnie, shaking her head. She hugged her tighter. “No, I wish I did. I wanted to try, Elena, but Kai said —”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Elena, smiling. “We’ll figure it out later, let me just …” She pulled away to see Bonnie and giggled as she touched her face. “You’re real. This happening. I can’t believe it.”
“Oh my God, Caroline is going to freak! This was the best day to wake up!”
Elena’s smile faltered slightly but she did her best to perk back up, hoping Bonnie didn’t notice. “Yeah it is. I, um, I wanted to wish her well but I still don’t quite right so I think I’ll just see her and then go.”
“Yeah,” said Bonnie. “Yeah if you’re not feeling well. Let’s go.”
She took Elena by the hand and led her through the hallway and down the stairs. “Wait until you meet Josie and Lizzie, they’re the cutest things in the entire world. If Caroline doesn’t watch out, I might steal them from her. Is that a bad joke to make since they were kind of kidnapped?”
“Sorry, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about,” said Bonnie. “How long have you been awake? I’m guessing you didn’t get to read any of our journal entries yet.”
“Only a few…”
Bonnie opened a door with white tulle over the frame. “I’ve got a surprise for you!”
“Bonnie! A surprise? I’m having a meltdown here, Josie spilled something all over her flower girl dress and —”
Caroline stopped speaking when she turned around to face the door. She looked from Elena to Bonnie and back again. “Elena? Is this … Bonnie, what did you do?”
“I didn’t do it, she just woke up and —”
“Oh my God, this is amazing!” Caroline exclaimed. She ran over to Elena and hugged her. “It must be a June wedding miracle! Even if it isn’t in June but whatever, that’s not the point. Elena, you’re here!”
Elena smiled. It was the strangest sensation to feel so utterly glad to see her friend again and to be completely devastated about the circumstances with which they were seeing each other. She pulled away. “Congratulations,” she barely gasped. “I just …I wanted to tell you congratulations.”
“Wait a minute,” said Caroline. “Why are you saying it like you’re not staying? You’re a bridesmaid.”
Elena’s eyes widened slightly. “I don’t have a dress.”
“OK you might think this is crazy but I sort of had your bridesmaid dress made and I brought it with me. I know it’s a little insane but I don’t know I just needed to feel like you were here too and bringing the dress here just made it feel like you would come to put it on. I’m a total nutcase, right?”
“No,” said Elena. “No, that’s sweet. I just … I don’t feel quite oriented, you know, like I just woke up and —”
“But it’s my wedding day,” said Caroline. “You and Bonnie are my best friends and it’s all a girl really wants, to share one of the greatest days of their lives with their best friends, right?”
Each of Caroline’s words felt like a blow to Elena’s chest, causing her to hold her breath. She felt like she was going to collapse. “OK,” she said. “I’ll get ready.”
Stefan could feel the emotion swell in his gut, choking his windpipe but he cleared his throat — he would endure and he would endure dry-eyed. As long as Elena managed to leave then it would be fine, he would be fine. A knock on the door.
“Come on, little brother, it’s show time.”
Stefan sighed. He could do this. He would do this. He would be happy and in love and it would be with Caroline Forbes, a woman he very much cared for. His promulgations felt much less hollow in Elena’s absence and now that she was back, she awakened in him all that he’d been missing for nearly five years but he made a choice, he made a choice and he was seeing it through because it was a good choice, a rational choice.
“Stefan, man, let’s go.”
“Yeah, Damon, I’m coming.”
He wondered if he should tell him Elena was awake but then it would bring about too many hurtful questions, like why Elena went to him first and not Damon. Stefan was sure Elena went to see Bonnie and Caroline, they could be the ones to tell Damon she was awake.
Stefan opened the door and smiled when Damon saw him. “Looking sharp,” he said. “Ready to end your life as a free man?”
“Funny and original, Damon, thank you.”
Damon grinned and clapped Stefan on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Stefan stood at the altar, looking out at the tons of people sitting in the rows of chairs in front of him. He knew probably five of them and two of those people were Matt Donovan and his father. The decorations were extravagant but poised, everything very much a reflection of Caroline’s taste; rather than feeling like the groom, he felt like a groom, like he was playing a role for a magazine shoot.
The music sounded and Stefan smiled fondly as Josie and Lizzie littered the aisle with pink rose petals. Bonnie walked down after them with that easy grace only she could ever possess and that Stefan had always admired. A woman from Caroline’s work walked down after her and Stefan smiled politely when she made her way to the front. He turned back toward the aisle, preparing to see Caroline, no preparing to see his bride, his soon-to-be wife, his —
Stefan’s stomach dropped.
Elena walked stiffly down the aisle, her eyes lowered to the bouquet she held in her hands.
Stefan barely heard Damon’s whisper. “Elena?”
A hole had gnawed its way through Stefan’s gut, emptying his very centre and his heart thudded painfully, everything inside of him was screaming. She couldn’t be here. Every step she took toward him felt like a jab in his chest and he was desperately thankful that he was not a vampire because he didn’t think he would be able to bear the anguish that was currently working its way through him if he was still subjected to that condition; if he had still been a vampire, the pain would’ve broken him apart.
Elena made it to the altar and Damon shifted to go to her but she shook her head slightly. “After,” she whispered.
She shifted her focus to Stefan who looked at her with angry betrayal. How could you do this to me.
Elena furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes shining with unshed tears. I had no choice. I’m sorry.
Stefan closed his eyes for a brief second and then took in a deep breath. We will endure this.
Elena swallowed and then found a spot next to Bonnie, tight-lipped and staring straight ahead directly past Stefan.
The wedding march sounded and all the guests stood up. Stefan turned toward the aisle again and saw Caroline walk down the steps toward him. She did look very pretty. Beautiful. Her blonde curls radiant in the sun but Stefan could only look at her, he couldn’t see her, not really, not with his entire being because it was attuned elsewhere, synced to Elena and he felt her everywhere as he watched Caroline walk toward him.
He should do it, call it off, no one would have to know why, he could be the asshole who humiliated Caroline at her own wedding, it had to be better than this, right? It had to be better than shackling her to him instead of bonding her, leaving her wanting for something he couldn’t for the life of him give her.
Stefan jerked as if he were about to move forward and speak but something held him back, a strong aura, a silent plea. Elena. He could feel her screaming at him even though he wasn’t looking at her and she wasn’t speaking. He knew in her mind she was yelling at him to stop, to endure, to be happy, to make Caroline happy, he’d made a choice after all.
He couldn’t breathe.
Caroline made it to the altar and Stefan took her by the hand as she moved to stand in front of him. He could see Elena in the periphery, just behind Caroline and a little to the right. Her head was turned toward them like the other bridesmaids but her eyes were lowered. Stefan looked back to Caroline who was smiling incredulously. She put her hand on his cheek.
“Aww, your face is red,” she said. “Are you going to cry?”
“No,” Stefan whispered. He smiled. “I won’t cry, I promise.”
Damon started the proceedings and something within Elena shrunk painfully, there was a weight on her chest that made her want to sink onto the floor. It hurt her to be so devastated with grief on her best friend’s wedding day and she wanted to the ceremony to be over so she could feel ashamed in private, so she could endure the extent of her sorrow alone because watching the two of them together opened within her a wound beyond healing
“The couple has prepared their own vows…”
Elena closed her eyes at the words. Is this what she woke up for? To suffer for a choice she thought she needed to make but that only caused her massive destruction.
Caroline fumbled with the piece of paper she’d written her vows on and it fell to the floor. When she bent to pick it up, Elena took this moment to glance at Stefan. Just once. When he wasn’t paying attention. She lifted her head slightly to gaze at him and saw that he was already looking at her, raw-eyed and clenched jaw. Her lips parted. Something within her contracted. And she felt the tears before she knew what was happening; she didn’t sniffle or blubber, she merely cried silently, stoically, accepting the warm streaks down her face.
The emotion that had been swelling in Stefan’s chest burst beyond repression and a tear dropped from his eye as he watched Elena cry. Caroline stood back up, blocking most of Elena from Stefan. She looked at him.
“You did cry,” she said.
“Sorry,” he gasped as another tear fell. “I am so sorry.”
Caroline smiled and started to read her vows as Stefan and Elena kept each other in their sights, staring at one another through the corners of their eyes, as one tear fell after the other.
Damon turned to Stefan. “Brother, your turn.”
Stefan’s eyes fluttered. He refocused his attention to Caroline who beamed at him. “Caroline, I …” He pressed his lips together.“I am not a perfect man and I never want to hurt you. Ever. You’ve seen me through so much. So I … I vow to you today to do everything in my power to be the man that you deserve…”
Elena chewed on her bottom lip as another tear fell, the salty sadness stinging her tongue. Stefan powered through even though he was torn inside with longing and guilt and shame and sadness.
At the back of the venue, behind the guests, two people listened to the ceremony with lazy expressions; one was picking at her nails and the other was eating some of the wedding cake with his fingers.
“I have to say, I’m disappointed. All I heard in Hell were stories about the Infamous Katherine Pierce and your flare for making an entrance. All you did was wake up Elena Gilbert. Not to brag, but the last time I crashed a wedding, the bride died and so did, like, fifty guests. This is just boring.”
Katherine turned to Kai. “This is more personal than that. I don’t just want to kill them for what they did to me, I want to destroy their lives and everyone knows, including Caroline but she’s just being an idiot, that Stefan Salvatore and bland, simple, self-righteous Little Miss Elena Gilbert are each other’s One True Loves. They will never get over each other. And nothing pleases me more than Stefan watching Elena watch him marry her best friend while Damon watches Elena’s reaction to Stefan marrying Caroline and Caroline being Caroline and burying her head in the sand, acting like none of this is happening. It’s going to rip them all apart until finally one of them snaps and I’m going to be there when that happens. They’re going to destroy themselves over this little love rhombus and then when they’ve psychologically and emotionally torn each other to shreds, I will kill them all.”
*Fun fact* I was trying to recreate a scene from a Chinese drama called The Princess Weiyoung:
So I’m home with my brothers because my parents are out of town, and they both woke up at an ungodly hour this morning so to put it kindly, I’m exhausted.
BUT NOW I’M GETTING REQUESTS FOR CHARLES XAVIER AND I’M SO EXCITED TO WRITE THEM. Let’s get to it! Let me know if you want to be tagged!
DOFP Charles is my favorite. With his long hair. Oh my! But this will be a sad one, would you mind doing an insert where the reader has kept it a secret that Charles and her had a child. Once she learns from Beast about his state, she visits him and introduces him to their child in hopes he would better himself. Maybe have a small bonding scene with the kid who has his powers.
Summary: After living at the bunker, you become closer to both Castiel and Dean.
Warnings: Fluff, smut (unprotected sex, minor dirty talk) language, some canon-level violence
A/N: Master tag list is at the end, let me know if you’d like to be added.
You had been living at the bunker now for about six months and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. You had your own space for once. But you weren’t lonely because you had Sam, Dean, and Castiel to keep you company when you wanted it.
So no, I’m not dead, and this fic has not been abandoned. Life has been a little crazy lately. And to be totally honest, married-but-separated canon Jeller was kind of messing with my married-but-oblivious fanfic Jeller, and it took me longer than I expected to get back into the headspace of this story.
Thanks for still being here!
Also, here you go, @kate-dammit-run and @zumbagirl8302. Please include chocolate with future nagging for faster response. ::blows kisses at you both::
Jane shifted in the chair beside Roman’s bed. It was more
comfortable than the one she’d spent three hours on in the waiting room, but
she still couldn’t manage to relax.
“You gonna talk about it, or just sit there and sigh all
night?” Roman cracked one eye open.
“I can go. You should rest.” She put her hands on the arms
of the chair, preparing to stand.
“I’m kidding.” He opened both eyes to peer at her. “How’s
your head? Sure you don’t want to check in? They’ll give you the good stuff.”
so yes, this is @llonkrebboj ‘s idea, I had a lot of fun writing about it =)
first time, Yellow sees Blue when her teacher from the university takes her
with him to see сourt
hearing. Yellow is one of the best students of her department, and the teacher
decides to show her the best young lawyer in his opinion. Yellow, who is very
difficult to surprise and impress, watches the debate with an open mouth, and
can’t take her eyes off. Blue leads a very complex and big case, which is heard
many times, and it’s not the first year of it. There is spark in the Blue’s
eyes, her arguments are perfect and flawless. Yellow tries to get to every
court hearing, if she can, and watches Blue.
But in a
year the case is closed. The meeting was closed, they didn’t let anyone in, and
Yellow found out that Blue had lost the case. She doesn’t understand how, what
happened, she wants to ask her personally, but Blue just disappears. Yellow
continues her studies at the university and graduates with excellent grades,
firmly deciding to find Blue and find out what was the cause of the failure.
Blue’s address and unceremoniously comes straight to her house. Blue opens the
door for her, and Yellow freezes on spot. Her spark was gone. Her eyes were
dull, speech was listless and disinterested. “Take me as an
apprentice!” Asks Yellow from the doorway and Blue slams the door in front
make me stand here for three days like in the Fight Club!” Yellow yells, knocking on the door. “I
want to be as amazing an attorney as you!”. Blue remembers this girl,
always looking at her attentively, always listening and recording. Blue doesn’t
want to return to previous affairs, but she is already so sadly alone, and this
may be an excellent chance to just talk about something with someone. “It
will be hard,” says Blue, opening the door, and Yellow nods confidently.
Yellow some of her notes and books, tells about cases and teaches her
completely differently than at the university, and Yellow tries to catch her
every word. But Blue’s eyes are still dull.
In this AU,
Blue is older than Yellow for 8 years. Yellow has just graduated from
university, she is 22. Blue is 30, although she looks much younger. Yellow
looks more like a biker than a lawyer.
looking for old cases in the archives and asks Blue to tell about them. Blue
sighs, but tells, in detail, actively gesticulating, and Yellow almost sees
this fire in her eyes again. Almost. No matter how much she tried, she can’t see
it again. “Why are you gone?” She asks, and Blue smiles sadly.
“My life was under threat. Of course, a good lawyer would die rather than
ruin the case, but I didn’t want to die so soon. And I thought, why am I doing
this at all, if anyway, some rich bastard will put a gun to my throat and say
"Fail it, or I’ll shoot.”“
it to Yellow because they spent a lot of time together as a teacher and
student, and Blue wants to warn Yellow that such dangers may arise in her way.
Yellow listens in silence, and somehow understands that she doesn’t get to
return "the same Blue”, and she almost drops her hands. But Blue
shows her that now she herself is very similar to her in the past. “All my
knowledge is now yours, I’m very proud of you”. And Yellow is ready to
burst into tears from these words.
visit you just like… A friend?” asks Yellow after her
“studying” is over, and Blue smiles at her. “Of
You hear the door click shut, but don’t turn away from watching the unsub through the glass. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“He threatened you."
"Well, then indirectly.” You turn to face Morgan, who’s crossing his arms over his chest, frustrated. “Bottom line is: He threatened you. ‘You’d be perfect’ is a threat."
You sigh and step up to your friend, placing your hands on his shoulders. "I can protect myself."
Morgan chuckles. "I know that. Doesn’t mean I can’t too."
A moment of silence passes in which the two of you just look at each other.
You both jump when the door to the hallway opens. JJ stands in the doorway, blue eyes passing back and forth between you and Morgan curiously. "Hotch is about to start the briefing.”
Morgan clears his throat and nods, stepping past her and into the hallway. You go to follow, but JJ stops you on the way out.
She smirks at you with one eyebrow quirked knowingly. “Did I just interrupt something?"
Your cheeks flame. "No.” Her smile only grows, and you scurry off down the hall after Morgan.
so now that there’s a Fake Ass Bitch in our midst, it’s time to rethink shiro and keith’s reunions
when the real shiro shows up, keith is terrified. he doesn’t know if it’s another clone, or if it’s haggar trying to manipulate him, or if it’s an alien at the center of a heist trying to take over the castle
not again, he thinks. not again
shiro is beaten up. he’s covered in endless amounts of scars and bruises that he knows will take longer than normal to heal after what he’s been through. his memory is foggy, but when he sees keith for the first time since he was captured, everything comes back in a roaring, horrifying mess.
he remembers zarkon and the galra army. he remembers the torture chambers. he remembers watching thousands of other aliens die right before his eyes. he remembers the first time he woke up after the kidnapping, with a gun to his head and his body bound in chains
not again, he thinks. please, oh god, not again
the other paladins finally see it. they know that this is their shiro. the clone was too calm; to comfortable with his so-called return to the castle. the clone didn’t have the scars that the real shiro has. the clone was too clean. he looked like a new recruit at the garrison; someone that knew nothing about war and the consequences of defeat. but this shiro is exhausted and he’s got the scars to prove his journey. the real shiro begs the other paladins to stay in the infirmary just so he knows he’s not in the torture chamber. the real shiro never asks to be alone with his thoughts.
this is the real shiro, but keith still doesn’t believe it
and he isn’t standoffish about his opinion either. he’s always got his sword unsheathed and his gun cocked. he’s always ready for a fight. he’s always ready to take down this freak that dares to call keith his friend. and shiro understands. he doesn’t defend himself like the clone would’ve done. he lets keith believe that he’s a clone, although he hates every second of it. this was the keith that he worked with at the Garrison. this is the keith that couldn’t stop crying when shiro went with the holt family to kerberos, and had a panic attack when he was informed that they didn’t come back. keith would be the most excited about his return. but he isn’t. and that’s what shiro hates most about coming back
he will never be able to earn everyone’s complete trust again
eventually, keith does an interrogation. he’s done one before, but that time was different. he asked him questions that only a real paladin of voltron would know, but, then again, the clone answered those questions perfectly. he had to go deeper.
what would the real shiro know that the clone didn’t?
keith asks shiro about earth. he asks him about his childhood. where he grew up. what his home smelled like and what his family made him feel. he asked him about what his first day at the garrison was like. he asked him what his parents’ reactions were when he got his acceptance letter. he asks him about his first crew and what their personalities were like. were they friendly? were they intimidating? did they think that shiro was intimidating, even as a new recruit?
shiro takes his time answering these questions. his memory is a little blurred after multiple concussions and injuries, but eventually he gets to an answer that makes keith happy. he gets sidetracked sometimes, and tells little stories about his life on earth.
as he’s talking, he gets more and more emotional. all of these memories remind him of how far away from home he is.
after a while, keith cuts the bad cop act and realizes that shiro isn’t lying. he sees shiro’s head drop, and he notices that shiro’s shoulders start to shake. he’s shaking all over, and he’s a sniffling, sobbing mess. the clone wasn’t like this. the clone glanced around the room. he never looked keith in the eye. the clone constantly said “um” and “hang on”. shiro might’ve taken his time, but the light in his eyes when he talked about his home was genuine. he recalled things about the garrison that even keith didn’t know. he might’ve been a dropout, but he knew more than most.
the second keith realizes what he’s done, he rushes towards shiro. his gun drops. his sword clatters to the ground. he throws his arms around his leader and instantly uncuffs him from the table so they can hold each other. shiro’s surprised that keith has come around, but at least he knows that keith believes him.
they sit there for hours. the other paladins are worried that keith’s gone and killed shiro. but then lance passes by, and he sees that the door is open. he hears two people crying. he gets ready to attack, but then he sees who it is.
he hesitates when he goes to step into the room. for a brief moment, shiro glances up and sees the blue paladin in the doorway. he nods, and lance decides to leave them alone. he wants to give them a chance. he knows that keith has had a rough couple of months ever since the clone showed up. he wants to hug shiro a little more than the other paladins believe, but he’s only known shiro as his personal hero. keith and shiro were friends before the kerberos mission was even an idea. he smiles and nods back at shiro. he leaves to tell the others to wait.