Mokuba taps his pen on his desk, staring attentively at the teacher. He isn’t being of course, but it’s helpful to look like he is. He’s drafting an email to Duel Disk R&D in his head. Trying to come up with a plausible excuse for why they woke up this morning with their access to the Grade 5 Testing Facility revoked. Something other than ‘sorry but the facility disappeared along with the CEO and what you’re actually seeing is a massive hard light hologram which could well short circuit any moment because this isn’t what it’s designed for’.
The heavy late-winter rain drums on the window, masking the sound of his left hand tapping out the email under the desk.
He pretends he’s Seto of course. He’s had more than enough practice that it’s indistinguishable most of the time. Nothing causes a drop in stock faster than ‘the CEO has literally vanished’. Besides, people take him more seriously as Seto. Partly his fault for being a bit more spirited than his brother, partly their mistake. Seto plays on making people think he’s all-powerful, whereas he uses their underestimation of him. It makes them an amazing team.
He sends it. It doesn’t really explain anything, but then his brother wouldn’t, so it should seem convincing at least.
“-leaving Persephone trapped in the underworld with Hades.”
He taps his pen harder and the girl at the desk in front of him turns and glares. He nods, with a look that doesn’t manage to make it to a smile, and stills, pressing it firmly into the table. It’s a blatant tell that he shouldn’t have at this age. He knows what Seto would say. That there are hundreds of influences on him every day, and statistically something is going to remind him of things he doesn’t want to think of, it doesn’t make it a sign, or mean that ‘the universe is out to get him’. But then Seto built a dimensional transporter to go and find a dead pharaoh he couldn’t stop thinking about so what the fuck would he know.
Mokuba puts the pen flat on the table with a snap. Better than throwing it across the room. Many times better than kicking over the desk and screaming, which is what he actually wants to do.
His phone buzzes in his hand. New text. Six new emails. His ears feel like they’re ringing. The sensation that there are too many thoughts in his brain, moving too fast. Cold sweat beading on his forehead. He hears Seto explaining about adrenaline responses and forces it away. Deep breaths.
Marcus moronically asking if it’s true, just to get a rise. It’s only been twenty minutes. He wants them to get it over with, get the lesson over with. Get the story over with. Unbidden, his mind races ahead, trying to recall anything he can about it.
She couldn’t come back. Persephone. That was the point right?
Not his brother though, his brother doesn’t understand that he ‘can’t’ do something as a matter of principle, and the universe therefore just has to move out of the way for him. The idea that Seto ‘couldn’t’ come back, he tells himself, doesn’t worry him. It doesn’t. It doesn’t.
His fingers are ice around the phone.
“Well there are many versions of the myths, so it is not right to say that there is one ‘true’ version. And in the context of a story, everything is true. In older versions of the tale, Persephone is older, a young woman out adventuring who finds herself trapped - not kidnapped,”
His jaw clenches.
“Or she heard the cries of the dead and walked freely into the Underworld,”
He can’t breathe.
“For every story where Persephone cannot return, there is another which says that she chose not to.”
He grabs his bag, shoves his things into it and stands up sharply, causing his chair to screech across the floor and his vision to darken at the edges. He hurries out the door with everyone staring at him. The teacher doesn’t call him back - perhaps thinks he’s going to be sick.
~ u lose ur vibrator somewhere in the apartment u share with
roommate!michael, and he kinda wont mind helping u out((; >requested ~ yess @mioety gave me this awesome prompt i love it a lot >word count ~ 2936 > a/n ~ idk why this turned so fluffy towards the end but who cares requests are sent in here // masterlist
your leggings pushed off your legs, you lay on your floor, rummaging
through one of the boxes you set aside beneath your desk. You took
things out, then set them back in, proceeding to check three times in
case you missed it the first or second time. Sitting up on your knees,
you pushed your hair from your face, and tapered your eyes across the
room, swearing under your breath. It must’ve been somewhere, although
in its defence, you hadn’t used it in a good two months. Standing up,
you walked to the other side of your room, swinging open the cabinet in
the alcove, you bent down, taking out every pair of underwear you kept,
and groaning when, of course, it still wasn’t there. Slamming the
cabinet shut, you approached your door, pulling it open and slipping
into the corridor.
Michael, fortunately, was out to finish the
last tracks for his band’s new album, and told you to not wait up for
dinner seeing as they planned to celebrate afterwards. He insisted you
to come, but you very much needed a night alone, which so far went well
– up to the point where you misplaced your vibrator. Now, you were
pacing around the apartment, your hair still wet from the bath, and only
a buttoned up night shirt over your underwear. Sighing, you peer over
the threshold of the bathroom and stepped in, opening up your cabinet
beneath the sink. After many petty arguments about whose razor was
whose, you and Michael both decided to have separate cabinets – his
above the sink, and yours below.
You pushed everything in your way
to the side – pads, wax strips, hair removal cream, shower gels – in
vain hopes that the vibrator would be somewhere behind them. Although
you knew you wouldn’t have kept it in a place where your roomate could
find it, you still checked everywhere in the bathroom to make sure. You
didn’t need him to know the sordid details of your privacy, just as you
didn’t need to know his, either. The tightness in your stomach grew, and
you sat yourself down. The wetness between your thighs was too much of a
distraction for you to concentrate on anything else.
Entering the living room, you slumped across the sofa, tugging up your legs, and rubbing your thumb over your forehead. Where could it be?
Your clit pulsed beneath your underwear, but you refused to take them
off. Not unless you found your vibrator. You knew you couldn’t make
yourself feel as good just with your fingers – it just wasn’t something
you were good at. Every moment you tried pushing it away, the ball
knotted in your stomach deepened into your heat. Huffing, you pushed
your hair from your eyes, and tried switching on the TV. Your fingers
trembled and your head whirled. You couldn’t remember a time your body
was begging as much as this.
When you heard the lock on the front
door click, you weren’t even bothered to hide your naked legs. You lay
there, your gaze meeting Michael’s as he walked into the apartment. He
stopped taking off his jacket midway, and stared at you, eyebrows
furrowed as he tried figuring out what happened. Of course, you looked
like a mess – no pants, your hair still wet, and an unamused expression
washed over your face.
He laughed. “You okay?”
“No.” You crossed your arms, and averted your attention to the TV. An old rerun of Pretty Little Liars was playing on the low volume.
his head, he hooked up his jacket and joined you on the couch, pushing
your legs out of the way so he had room. Unfazed by seeing you half
naked, he snatched the remote out of your hand and changed the channel.
You stared at him, and considered kicking him off the sofa so you could
reclaim your taken space. Shrinking into your corner, you pulled your
knees up beneath your chin.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, not looking away from the TV.
Heat rose up your neck; you touched your cheek with the back of your hand – warm. “I lost something.”
watched his Adam’s apple move beneath his throat, and found yourself
staring at his lips. Bloomed with red, and parted perfectly enough to
take a sip of the beer he brought into the apartment. Any other day, you
would’ve been paranoid he would spill it somewhere, but that evening,
all you could see was how good his mouth looked smeared with alcohol –
shiny and wet. You looked away when he met your gaze, an eyebrow raised,
and a teasing shimmer in his eyes.
“It’s rude to stare,” he said, and chuckled. “What have you lost? I can take a look for it.”
Bewildered, you sat up, shaking your head. “No, it’s… it’d be weird if I asked you to look for it.”
“Why? I can help.” He leaned over and set the beer can down while you watched the muscles of his back flex. You had to stop,
you told yourself, but couldn’t bring yourself to shake out how good he
looked in his tank. You could see a strip of skin showing through the
arm hole that dipped all the way down to his waist. He faced you.
“You’re always losing things, anyway.”
You blushed harder, considering to tell him. “It’s…”
“It’s…?” He regarded you expectantly.
breathed in, and glanced out the window, not meeting his eyes. Running
your fingers up your leg, you curled your toes over the sofa. “I lost my
Silence lapsed over you both, until it cracked with
his subdued chuckle. His lack of composure made you stare at him, and he
held both arms up in defence. Before he could say anything, you beat
him to it.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Was I not meant to?”
him a glare, you swung your legs off the sofa and stood, stalking out
of the living room and across the corridor. You knew you shouldn’t have
told him, it would end in humility on your end. Unsure whether you could
even look him in the eye, you locked yourself in the bathroom, and
remained with your hand on either side of the sink and lifting your gaze
to your reflection in the mirror. You pushed your messy hair from your
forehead and ran your thumb down to your bottom lip, staring at how
flushed they’d become beneath the self-inflicted bite marks you left on
them. Your shirt sagged down your shoulder, and you could’ve been
mistaken from coming fresh out of a room full of sweaty sex, when it was
really the opposite. Slamming your hands on the sink, you groaned,
turning around and opening the bathroom door. Michael was waiting in the
corridor for you, and looked up when he saw you come out.
not angry with me, right?” he asked gently, and you rolled your eyes,
crossing your arms and casting your eyes to the ground. His voice was
deep and raspy, and you unwillingly thought of what else he could say,
how close he could be to you… Surprised to have such thoughts about
your roommate, you advanced into your bedroom without a response, but he
caught you by the wrist. “I’m sorry for – fuck, this is so stupid – I’m sorry for teasing you.”
Smiling, you twisted your wrist around. “I’m not angry with you.”
He tugged at your arm gently. “Look at me.”
you turned around, faced with his breath gliding across the slant of
your nose, and the faintness of his cologne teasing you a little closer.
You couldn’t bare to lift your eyes to his, because you knew what
they’d read – you knew they’d be spilling with curiousity of what
could’ve possibly had you so worked up to submit to telling him what you
lost. You couldn’t bare to meet his gaze because you knew with one
look, you were gone, and you would be melting into his hands and telling
him every sordid thought that passed your mind as your hand passed your
heat. He was near to you, near enough to inhale the scent behind your
ear. When his hand reached up and into the curve of your neck, he
brushed his thumb across the shiny skin on your cheekbone. For the first
time in your life, you found yourself shy in front of Michael Clifford.
the hem of your shirt down, you tried covering your cold thighs,
stepping only a little nearer towards him. You could hear him breathe
in, and watched his Adam’s apple bob. You tilted your head up,
whispering, “don’t make me want you. I’m so ready for anything, I could
let you take me in this corridor.”
Your heart beat sped up at your own words, and you anticipated his response.
sound of his mouth moving as he spoke rose hairs all over your arms. “I
hate hearing you play with yourself. I hate it. I hate it, because it’s
the proof another pair of fingers are making you cum that aren’t mine.”
hand slipped away from your face, and flattened over your collarbones,
making their way down to the slope of your breast. You bit your lip, and
laced your fingers into his shirt, while his caught onto your nipple
above your clothes. The TV remained humming from downstairs, and the wind
blew in through the open windows. Everything tangled around you both,
standing in the corridor while you passed every boundary you set up when
you first moved in. He groaned into your hair when his palm moved
around to settle between your legs, feeling how you soaked well into
Gripping one of your thighs, he mumbled,
“jump up, for me.” And when you did, your legs were wrapped around his
waist, his hands going under to hold you up, and he was walking you into
Your back hit the mattress, but you didn’t release
his hips. He kissed you, and hard at that, his lips finding yours for a
moment you could pin down to the point of when your nerves begun soaring
for him. He settled between your legs and steadied your hips, smiling
down at you, and loving the way your lips pulsed as his mark on you. You
ran your hands over his shoulders, trying to familiarise yourself with
the body you’d wanted to touch for so long. You remembered all the
nights where you tossed and turned with your vibrator running over your
clit, consumed with the thought of him. He parted your legs, pulling you
onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Fuck,” you said,
feeling the denim of his jeans graze your core when he took your
underwear off. “God, I can’t believe this. I’m soaking your pants.”
not complaining, sweetheart.” He attempted to move you to unbutton
them, until he was met by a whimper leaving your mouth as you ground
against him. His fingers tickled the bottom of your spine. “Baby, do you
wanna ride my thigh? Hmm?”
Regarding him, you balanced your hands on his waist. “I need you.”
“Is that so?” He rose an eyebrow. “You have me.”
no, no,” you trailed a hand down to his crotch, feeling how warm he was
as his member was a bump beneath your palm. “I need this.”
he cupped your fist, draping your arm over his shoulder. You blushed
fiercely, the proximity between the two of you still taking you by
surprise. His mouth was warm when he kissed you again, his tongue
finding your bottom lip, then his teeth. Nervously, you kissed down his
jaw, unsure what he liked, but hoping he didn’t mind. His grip fell on
your hips, and let you slide over the denim on his jeans, a gasp tearing
through your lips as the friction sent a burst of shock through you.
that okay, Y/N?” he mumbled into the crown of your head, and you
nodded, apprehending the next moment impatiently. “I love how you sound,
Your cheek pressed against his shoulder, eyes fluttering
shut when he reached down and rubbed your clit himself. The pad of his
finger was callused, and you wanted to drown in the feeling of having
the heel of his hand press into your waist with him making you feel
better than you could’ve done in all the time you had. He traced the tip
of his finger across you, coating it in your own wetness and circling
the small bud, a leap of delight causing you to flinch and hold him
tighter against your body. Your hips were drifting off his lap, giving
him more space to make you feel good.
“Fuck,” you said, lips
mumbling over his tank top. “What are you doing to me, Michael? It’s
like you know my body better than I ever did.”
He slid his finger
down to your core, biting his lip and gripping your hips when he felt
you inhale deeply. “I’d do anything to make you feel good.”
your head up, you caught his mouth in a kiss, and he lay down on the
bed, keeping your legs split across his waist. Feeling yourself blush
under his gaze, you lifted his top, the skin of his belly soft and
supple underneath your hands. Pushing the tank all the way up, you let
him take it off, then proceed to unbutton your shirt. You shared a
nervous laugh when his bracelet caught onto one of them, and his warm
hand was pressed against your chest as he tried unhooking himself from
you. Smiling, you unknotted the loop, and shrugged of your shirt,
leaning over him with your naked chest on his.
“It feels like I’ve
done this before,” he murmured as you unzipped his jeans. “This doesn’t
feel awkward or strange – you feel like home.”
attempt at hiding a smile made him kiss you – not hard, nor lustful,
but with an unspoken amount of love neither of you had ever admitted to
each other. The love that he denied when he woke up and saw you making
breakfast, or the love that you denied when he came home from a long day
and felt happy to be around him again. You both shared tokens of love
that were small enough to be ignored by anybody else, but neither of you
ignored them. You pretended the feelings didn’t exist, but all of them
did. Every single one. You reached up, lacing your fingers with his.
always felt like home,” you told him, and sat up, running your finger
along the skin above his underwear line. “I need you.”
His eyes lifted to yours, and he smiled, repeating his words the last time you said that. “You have me.”
your bottom lip between your teeth, you tugged his underwear down, his
member growing in your hand. You pumped him, collecting his precum on
your thumb and his body trembling as he groaned, taking your free hand
and kissing the back of it. His cock was hard already, but you wanted to
make sure he felt as wonderful as you did when you were in his grip.
You picked up your pace, but he quickly grabbed you wrist.
“I don’t want to cum just yet.” Sitting up, he tugged you closer to him. “I want to cum inside you.”
in relief, you ran your hands up his length one more time, lifting your
hips and trailing his tip along your slit, which was wet from your
arousal. He swore, watching you in your actions. He licked his middle
finger and ran it across your clit, catching you by surprise and turning
you on more than you thought you could. He filled you up, and you both
moaned, his grasp on your hand tightening when you clenched around him.
His palm went to your waist, helping you ride him and leaning in to kiss
“Michael,” you said softly on his mouth, “you feel better than I could ever imagine.”
“I could say the same for you.” He bucked his hips up, and emitted a cracked whine. “Jesus Christ, I’m so close. Already. I’ve barely even touched you.”
shake your head, quickening your pace and making him reel in surprise. A
knot forms in the pit of your stomach, and you tense up, nails digging
into his thighs and he grabbed you, pulling you close and whispering
into your ear.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. Can you feel that, baby? Can you feel me throbbing in you?”
“God, I’m gonna cum.”
He rutted his hips onto yours, going in deep. “Cum for me, baby.”
few moments later, your held him close to you, breathing him in and
trying your best to root yourself, but you couldn’t. The orgasm washed
over you hard, and you trembled, feeling the muscles in his stomach
tighten as he joined you, the remains of his climax running down your
thighs. You fell on top of him, unable to find the strength to get up.
He played with your hair, catching his breath and pulling the duvet over
your shoulders. You could barely open your eyes.
“Don’t want you getting cold,” he said, and you laughed gently. “Did that feel good?”
You nodded. “Amazing. Thank you.”
He kissed your head, through your hair, and exhaled. “Anything for you. Anything.”
DO YOU DO REQUESTS AND ARE THEY OPEN BC IM THIRSTY™
tl;dr answer: YES AND NO, ANON
You see, the way my ask box is set up
I’m not officially open for requests, as UTW takes priority in that regard.
I’m not officially closed to requests, either. Just know that I’ve left requests sitting collecting dust in my inbox for months before I manage to get to them because I’m slow asf. I’ve also noticed that my muse is less likely to work with any of the following:
• Way OOC/AU type stuff. Like, don’t expect me to figure out how Noct got a job at McDonalds, or Ignis being a stripper after hours, etc. I have an appreciation for it, but I can’t write it, lol. The closer it can fit in the whole FFXV universe and with the character’s personality, the better.
• Scenarios that I can’t work sex into somehow. I got a reputation on this trash pile here, I gotta keep it thotty!
• Anything outside of FFXV rn. I have a one-track mind when it comes to writing even if I do love multiple fandoms.
Summary: Reader, as a child, was one of HYDRA’s experiments, which resulted in her being able to shapeshift into other people. Living and working with the Avengers after being rescued by them, the Reader becomes ill as the ‘Civil War’ starts, and Steve trusts Tony to take care of her. So how does she react when Tony recruits a new member the same age as her? And what happens when she gets sent away?
Author’s note: IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS PART. I’ve been planning this since the start and i’m SO EXCITED!!! also, i absolutely freaking LOVE writing Dad!Tony and Dad!Steve. It’s so much fun. Also – this is my favorite piece i’ve ever written?? I’m so, so proud of it. Wow. P.S. THIS IS ALSO MY LONGEST PIECE TO DATE! WITH 3000 WORDS, EXACTLY! P.P.S. Don’t forget to leave feedback!!!!!
Warning: Angsty talks, mentions of death, flUFFY AF
“What? No, I’m not going to just leave you guys to–” You say, defiantly, but Tony cuts you off. “C’mon, kiddo – We still haven’t dealt with the Accords, and I need to work out the serum. You’d be a lot safer away from here. Just until we’ve figured this out.” You still aren’t entirely okay with the idea, but you know Tony won’t give up on this – he’ll send you away while you’re asleep if he has to. “Fine.” You mutter, short and clipped, and he sighs, leaning back into his chair. “Thank you.” He stands up, about to leave, when you realize something. “Where am I going?” You ask, and he spins around with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Queens.” He says, smirking, before he leaves the room, leaving you alone with a confused look on your face.
I would like to thank my parents for making me so terrified of disappointing anyone or saying no to them that I get anxiety over my decision and then still do the thing anyway and suffer through it even when it’s something I cannot stand.
Disclaimer - I do not own any of AMC’s The Walking Dead’s
characters, plots, or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of
Summary - Reader is pregnant with Daryl’s child at Alexandria and Daryl returns from a long day on a run and random fluff pretty much
A/N - Request are open :)
“Seems like to me there’s something not finished. Seems like when you half finish a job and can’t think what it was. Something didn’t get done.” I read out of East of Eden by John Steinbeck, a book I’ve read for the thousandth time it seemed.
Being pregnant really had its ups and downs; I wanted to be out on a run with Daryl but instead I sat on the couch that sat in the middle of the living room in the home I shared with Daryl, Rick, Michonne, Carl, Judith, and Morgan waiting for Daryl, Rick, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, and Morgan to return from their run. Carl sat on the rug that was in front of me with Judith, playing games.
“How long have they been gone?” Carl asked me, not looking up from Judith.
“Umm,” I looked up and behind me at the clock that was ran by solar power, “about 5 hours maybe.” I finished, closing the book and setting it on the table.
“I wonder when they’ll be back” Carl said placing Judith in front of a toy, left her to play, and stood up
“So do I actually.” I replied
As if on cue, Michonne opened the door with a smile on her face, which now a days seemed to becoming more common, For all of us.
“What’s the smile for Michonne?” I said smiling at her, taking the hand Carl offered me to help me stand up, the heavy, 7 month, large belly I supported making everything harder it seemed.
“We found a bunch of things for Judith and Baby Dixon.” Rick answered for Michonne, smiling also as I waddled my way over to where they were both placing bags on top of bags of baby toys, clothes, and food onto the kitchen counter.
“Thank you guys so much!” I said a large smile growing onto my face as I rubbed a hand over my belly, “But where’s Daryl?” I asked looking around, missing the father of my unborn child.
“Him and Glenn are grabbing the new crib we found.” Michonne smiled knowing that the crib one of the residents gave to us wasn’t the best or sturdiest things around.
“Nope, I’m right here.” Daryl said, lugging in the seemingly brand new crib.
“Daryl!” I smiled, going towards him as he and Glenn put the heavy but needed object down next to the door.
“Hey (Y/N).” Daryl said in his deep southern drawl as he kissed me, “And hello to you little ass-kicker” he used the nickname he gave to both Judith and our child as he rubbed my stomach.
“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s inventory what we got.” Morgan said walking in with several more bags.
By the end of it all they had gathered
7 new toys
19 cans of baby food
3 new baby bottles
2 cans of formula
a crib with bedding
9 boxes of ammunition
2 boxes full of fruit
and 11 new books.
“Wow. Where did you guys go to?” I asked, amazed by the amount of things they had gathered.
“There was a college about 19 miles out with a little neighborhood near by it.” Maggie answered me
“A nearly untouched neighborhood at that.” Glenn added “It seems to be getting late, we’ll take this and tell whoever was put in charge of inventory today what we got.” he finished as him and Maggie grabbed the bags and made their way out of the house.
“See you guys in the morning!” They said in unison and made their way out of the house, closing the door behind them.
I looked towards the clock it read 11:27 pm
“I think I’m going to call it a night, all this excitement has got me tired out.” I stated and turned to walk towards the stairs.
“I’m right behind you.” Daryl said and began to follow me up the stairs while holding a hand on the middle of my back, helping me wobble upstairs as a collection of goodnight and see you in the morning came from behind us.
Once in our shared room I took off my flannel, t-shirt (that was way too overstretched), and pants, put them in the chest that was at the end of our bed and threw on a different long t shirt to sleep in while Daryl undressed as well.
I climbed under the multiple blankets that laid upon our bed and sat against the headboard as Daryl laid besides me and put his hand on top of my stomach and rubbed it as he looked up at me.
The way he looked at me made butterflies rise in my chest even after the years we’ve been together,
“What?” I asked, giggling lightly
“You’re just so beautiful.” He kept staring at me then suddenly he grabbed me by the small of my back and pulled me to a laying position and sat above me being mindful of my constantly growing tummy all while we were both laughing as he kissed every inch of my body.
Moments like these we couldn’t let go to waste anymore, for any moment now, we could be dead.
A/N: I love all of you who will take the time to read this. Please reblog and like if you like this story! Not really sticking to a schedule for releasing the parts but I promise this will be the longest you all had to wait for another part. I will try to post the next parts within days of each other.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Fandom: Criminal Minds, Supernatural Crossover
Summary: After some information about your soulmate was disclosed to you. The reader is refusing to let herself get caught up in the moment and hope. Meanwhile, Reid is developing some feelings, but are they feelings that will lead to love?
Warnings: a broken heart, angst, fluff (but is that really a warning?)
“Who is this soulmate?” you asked, “Cas please tell me.”
“Dr. Spencer Reid.”
“Reid?” you ask flabbergasted.
“Yes,” Cas states calmly.
“No Cas. You must be mistaken. He’s still in love with Maeve and doesn’t think he’ll ever find love again,” you deny refusing to let yourself hope.
“Love is not a simple thing (Y/N), but I swear to you, Dr. Reid and you will end up together,” Cas confirms. Though you should be a little relieved at this, all you feel is anger boiling inside you. It started in your heart and as the blood went through your body so did the rage.
“So what? Heaven needs the Reid and Winchester bloodlines to mix so they use me as a pawn? How is that true love, cupid shoots an arrow into our hearts and we fall in love? How the hell are we then supposedly “soulmates”? If we were soulmates, wouldn’t we fall in love naturally? Like how he fell in love with Maeve? Wouldn’t he feel love for me without the bow and arrows?” you rambled on enraged, and also sullen at the fact that Spencer wouldn’t feel any love for you unless he was hit by cupid’s arrow.
“That woman was never meant to be with Spencer, even if she had survived they would have been together for two years and go their separate ways,” Cas threw his arms around you and continued, “What he felt for her was and is not love in the purest form. He felt some of the things that you would feel for a soulmate, but they were similar in many ways which lead him to be attracted to her. Attraction is not love.” You took a deep breath in and tried to calm you racing mind. You knew that Cas was an angel and that it was more than likely that what he said was the truth. However, you were still sad to the fact that it takes an arrow to the heart for Reid to have any romantic feelings for you.
“So it takes an arrow for someone to fall for me huh?” you joke miserably. Cas placed his hand underneath your chin and lifted your face up to meet his eyes. These were the moments you missed about your old life, Cas and you were so close that you seemed to be connected on a telepathic level. Ignoring the fact that he was an angel with the capability of sending messages telepathically as well as reading your mind. Still, Cas and you shared moments like this where you would be staring into each other’s eyes and the eyes would do the talking for you. After a few moments of Cas scolding you for the self- loathing comment, and you replying humorously by acknowledging it was hunter habit and would never leave you, you sigh and leave his gaze. You look over at the empty jungle gym trying to forget and remove all the feelings going through your mind, when an idea strikes your mind, turning to Cas you smile devilishly.
Cas alarmed at you expression protests, “No, (Y/N). Forget it. Whatever idea you got just now forget about it, the last time you had that expression on your face I ended up cleaning paint from my feathers for a month.” Standing up as if you hadn’t heard his complaints you drag him over to the seesaw and make him play. Though a little stiff at first your best friend warmed up pretty quickly and soon was holding his abs and crying from laughing so hard. About ten minutes later you both found yourself laying in the sandbox, Cas with a pail on his head and you with a shovel throwing sand at Cas every now and then. “I have missed you (Y/N),” he says in his grim voice.
“Well considering the fact that I saw you every day when you were no-so-subtly making sure I’m okay, I haven’t had time to miss your face, but there are a lot of thing about you that I’ve missed. I’ve missed our telepathic conversations and our silly random adventures. I’ve also missed my brothers, why won’t you guys come visit me? I hate you all,” you whine playfully.
Cas smiles and theorized, “Well if they did come to visit you properly then there is a good chance that all of the monsters that are targeting us will come looking for you as well. We want you to be safe more than anything. Oh, and speaking of your brothers I have something from them for you.” He sits up from the sandbox, wiping out all the sand you managed to throw on him and reach out a hand towards you. You take his hand and get up wiping away any sand still stuck to you and look up at him with anticipation. Cas stares back innocently, knowing full well when it comes to gifts, especially those from your brothers, you were as patient as a five-year-old child. When he continues to just stare at you, you get annoyed and slap him on the arm just a little. “Ow, what was that for?” he rubs his arm faking pain.
“It’s what you get for torturing me with the idea of gifts and then not giving them to me. Now cough ‘em up Angel I carry a gun and an angel blade!” you threaten.
His eyes widen in exaggerated surprise at you threat and said, “I promised your brothers I would give it to you once you were safe and sound at home. Forgive me but I do not think this park is where you live.” You couldn’t help but laugh which Cas joins in after a few seconds, and you both head back to your place. While walking there Cas looks at you and comments, “You know Dr. Reid was quite disappointed when you left the bar, that too with me.”
You scoff at this and retort, “Yeah he must be so disappointed that I’m not there to listen to him talk about Maeve. Cas I swear to you even with cupid’s arrow he won’t fall in love with me.” Cas stayed silent to this comment and lead you to your apartment. As promised he gave you the gifts, hugged you and watched you enter your apartment. After he was sure you were away from earshot, he smiles to himself and softly says, “Who told that girl anything about a cupid’s arrow?” and teleports back to the bunker.
Although you scoffed at his earlier comment, once alone at your apartment you wondered if Reid had indeed felt disappointed that you were leaving with another man for a romantic reason. A second of considering this you immediately shot down the idea harshly reminding yourself that Reid had been your friend for years and he still fell for Maeve. As you fall asleep with tears staining your pillow, you recite over and over again to yourself that he has to be drugged in order to fall in love with you.
Little did you know that within minutes of you leaving the bar Reid came up with a reason and ran on out the door.
Part 3 Coming Soon!!
Want to be tagged in this series? Just send me an ask, or Simply request it in the comments section. The more the merrier! :)