#*smiling through gritted teeth at the interviewer* stop interrupting him

[lilithknoxville]

Could you perhaps do a Johnny angst with a happy ending? I don’t have anything particular in mind, just wanting to suffer 🫶🏻

Only You (Johnny Knoxville x Reader)

Summary: “Am I not enough for you anymore?” You threw your hands up in exasperation, “I mean - Jesus! You were practically undressing her with your eyes!” Your voice rose sharply, your chest feeling tight as you exploded on him.

“W-Wait a second!” Johnny’s voice rose, and he held up a shaking hand towards you, “Where are you even getting the idea that you’re ‘not enough for me’?” He asked, and you scoffed incredulously.

“When I watch my boyfriend eye fuck some blonde and look at her the exact same way he looks at me.”

Content Warnings: Mild Angst, Swearing, Insecurities

Word Count: 3,019

AN: aaaaaaaaah this was actually so much fun to write! I don’t know if this exactly the angst you were looking for, I do have another one I was writing with this ask, but I don’t know if I’m as confident in it as I am this one. As usual, no beta reader, we die like men. Requests are still open! Onto the story! ✨

You grit your teeth, the sound of the interviewer’s laughter almost like an ice pick through your skull. A sour expression was on your face as you tried to tune her out, but when your boyfriend purred another compliment to her, you hit your breaking point. It was no secret that Johnny was a natural flirt - Hell, most of the time, he did it unintentionally - but with how many compliments he had thrown at her, it was starting to feel like it wasn’t unintentional anymore. You had enough.

You turned on your heel, tears stinging your eyes. You all but ran to the exit door, slamming it open with your hands. You could hear a small commotion inside, the blonde’s voice asking if everything was okay, and something unintelligible from Johnny. You stepped outside into the hot June air of Los Angeles, your breath catching in your throat. You ran your hand up from your forehead into your hair, trying to clear your thoughts.

Your hands fumbled around in your Johnny’s flannel, trying to find the cigarette pack you had hastily grabbed this morning. You pulled out the pack, the lighter placed inside, and sparked up a cigarette. You took a long drag, trying to use the stale taste of the tobacco to calm your nerves.

It was a silent ten minutes, the sound of the city surrounding you, before you heard the door open behind you. You didn’t turn around, already on your fourth cigarette. You took a long drag, looking down at the parking lot in front of you, where the past three cigarette butts were scattered on the ground.

“Don’t you know those things give you cancer?” You heard the southern drawl of your boyfriend’s accent, and usually the sound of it would make you smile. You grit your teeth, closing your eyes.

“I’m aware.” You spoke simply, your tone cold and emotionless. The air between the two of you chilled, and you felt him come up behind you. He wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“You’re mad.” He commented, his tone amused, but when you turned your head to meet his eyes, he quickly realized that it was much more than a simple anger.

“And you’re Einstein.” You spat, pulling out of his hands. He reached out for you, but you held up a hand, stopping him, “Not right now.” You heaved out a sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“Doll, is this because of that interview?” He asked, confusion crossing his features, “I mean, I know I was laying on the charm thick, but I didn’t thi-”

“Laying on the charm thick?!” Your voice rose sharply, cutting him off. He blinked, looking taken aback by your sudden interruption, “Holy shit, if you call what you did in there ‘Laying on the charm thick’, then I’d fucking hate to see what you actually flirting looks like!”

“H-Hey, now wait a minute.” Johnny held up a finger, his voice stuttering for a moment, “Doll, I can explain.”

“Oh!” You laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms over your chest, “You can explain? Let me guess, it’s also ‘Not what it looks like’?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. The look on his face told you that was his next set of words, “Because I’ll tell you what it looked like, PJ. It looked like you shamelessly flirting, while your girlfriend was standing less than a fucking foot away!” You spat, your hands coming to your head in frustration.

“O-Okay, you’ve got me there. I can see how it came across like that.” He grimaced, and you laughed humorlessly again.

“Am I not enough for you anymore?” You threw your hands up in exasperation, “I mean - Jesus! You were practically undressing her with your eyes!” Your voice rose sharply, your chest feeling tight as you exploded on him.

“W-Wait a second!” Johnny’s voice rose, and he held up a shaking hand towards you, “Where are you even getting the idea that you’re ‘not enough for me’?” He asked, and you scoffed incredulously.

“When I watch my boyfriend eye fuck some blonde and look at her the exact same way he looks at me.” You crossed your arms across your chest, wrapping them around you almost in protection. The sound of the cars honking on the street was making your emotions run even higher, and you shook your head.

“We will talk more about this later.” You held up a finger to silence him when he protested, “You’ve got more interviews to get through. I’m going home.” You dug the keys to your car out of your flannel pocket.

“Hon…” Johnny started, but you shook your head, meeting his eyes.

“I can’t sit here and watch the love of my fucking life flirt with other women like I don’t exist to him.” You admitted, your voice hollow, “I’ll see you at home.” And with that, you were stalking off across the parking lot to your car. You unlocked the doors, casting a glance over at Johnny, who hadn’t moved an inch. He was watching you with guilty eyes, and you tore your gaze away from him, getting into your car.

The drive home was silent, a pop song playing on the radio softly, but it was all background noise compared to the whirlwind in your brain. Your emotions were a jumbled mess of insecurities rearing their ugly head, deep sadness, and pure rage.

You made it home quickly, and you parked your car, sighing heavily. You let yourself in the front door, shutting the door behind you. You thought you would have a moment to yourself, but the piercing blue of Bam’s eyes caught you off guard. You crossed your arms, looking at the brunet who was currently laid across your couch.

“Do I even want to know why you’re here? Or how you got in?” You asked, leaning against the back of the couch, looking down at your friend.

“Johnny called me. Told me to be here before you got home.” Bam answered simply, sitting up on the couch and patting the space next to him, “Said you needed someone to scream at, and you know I’m your man for that. And you don’t want to know how I got in.”

“I’m not gonna scream at you, fuck.” You sighed, coming around the couch and flopping down next to Bam. You rested your head against the back of the couch, closing your eyes, “I shouldn’t even be as upset as I am. I know that rationally, but-”

“Seeing another girl smile at Johnny the same way you do sets your blood on fire?” Bam finished your sentence, and you looked over at him with depressed eyes.

“Yeah.” You answered slowly, the depression deepening on your face as you unpacked your emotions, “I know Johnny is an attractive man. I’d be stupid to think that there aren’t women who look at him and want him with every breath they take. But seeing Johnny playing into their fantasies - albeit with his words and not physically - just doesn’t sit right with me. I watched him look at that girl the same way he looks at me in bed.” You spoke softly, your eyes slipping closed again as you heaved out a sigh.

“I’m not going to sit here and say your brain is stupid for thinking like that.” Bam started, his finger idly spinning one of his rings around his finger, “But I’m gonna tell you that Knox isn’t one to fuck around on the one he loves.” You opened your eyes, looking over at him with a soft, confused look. Bam shifted uncomfortably, having to play therapist being something he wasn’t used to.

“Look, he was with this one chick for years.” Bam shifted on the couch to where he was facing you, throwing one of his arms over the back of the couch, “Her name was Brittany. He started dating her when we first started Jackass, and he was completely devoted to her. Anything she wanted, she got. If she even hinted at wanting something, he was immediately buying it for her. Every single second of his day was spent on her, and she took fucking advantage of that.” He swallowed, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“She was fucking around on him, behind his back. Everyone knew it. Hell, I think even he knew it, but he was too scared to be alone. She was all he had ever known, so he suffered through it. Multiple opportunities were opened to him during that to fuck around on her, but he never took it. He always said that two wrongs don’t make a right, so he wasn’t going to do unto her the same pain when he hated what was happening to him.” Bam explained, and it felt like your breath was stolen from your lungs, “So, I completely get having insecurities, but trust me when I say you have nothing to worry about for Johnny fucking around on you or randomly leaving you. He’s a people pleaser, yes, but all you have to do is talk to him and that comes to a complete stop.” Bam gave you a lopsided smile, “We all see how happy he is with you. He’s made a complete 180 turn from the broken dude he used to be, and - Fuck - you treat him like he’s made of gold. You two are made for each other, through and through.”

“Bam…” You pressed your lips together in a thin line, your mind racing, “I was a fucking bitch to him before I left set.” Your voice was quiet, and Bam let out a small chuckle.

“Sweetheart, I can assure you, you weren’t a bitch to him. You were dealin’ with some weird emotions, and if you can explain that to him, there isn’t gonna be any bad blood between you two. Knox is a good ass dude. He completely gets having insecurities, but he’s not a mind reader.” He looked at you pointedly, and you cringed slightly.

“And it’s not fair to expect him to know what’s going on in my mind if I don’t say anything.” Your voice was small, the weight of everything hitting you all at once.

“Atta girl.” Bam snapped his fingers, “You have to talk to him about how you’re feeling. He can’t just magically know what’s going on in your head without you talking to him about what you’re feeling.” He gave you another lopsided smile, and you let out a heavy sigh.

“I appreciate you, Bam.” You gave him a soft smile, looking over at him. He shrugged nonchalantly, opening his arms for a hug. You chuckled gently, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around him. Your mouth pressed against his shoulder, “I don’t know what I would do without you in my life.” You murmured into the fabric of his jacket.

“You wouldn’t have a kickass friend who pulls your head out of your ass and gives you damn good advice.” Bam joked, a lighthearted smile on his lips, and you let out a soft laugh as well.

It was a couple of hours later when Johnny finally came home, the smell of dinner cooking making his stomach grumble. Bam had been long gone by then, having sent Johnny a text that you were okay now. Johnny had tried to send you a couple of texts, but Bam advised against it, telling Johnny to give you space right now so you could sort through all of your emotions.

The sound of your gentle singing made Johnny’s heart clench in his chest, and he sighed softly. He closed the front door gently behind him, kicking off his shoes and placing them in the small shoe rack you had bought a couple of months ago. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers, a small piece of his long winded apology. He walked through the living room and made his way into the kitchen, his heart hammering in his throat. When he turned the corner into the kitchen, you were standing in front of the stove, stirring a pot with potatoes in it. You turned your head towards him, and he thrust the flowers out to you.

“Doll, I cannot apologize enough.” He started, his voice strained. You gently took the flowers from his hands, your breathing catching in your throat, “I just-”

“Baby.” You cut him off, blinking up towards the ceiling, trying to push back the tears that threatened to stream down your cheeks. You looked back at him, tears hanging heavy on your lashline, “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I promise you.”

“I do though.” He protested, swallowing thickly. You turned from him, gently placing the flowers on the counter as you turned down the burner that the pot was sitting on. You turned back towards him, “I’m always so obsessed with this stupid ‘bad boy, flirty southern’ image that I don’t stop to think about how it affects the woman I’m in love with.”

“You can’t beat yourself up too much, PJ.” You shook your head, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, “I got upset and angry with you, when I’ve never explained to you my own emotions. You’re not a mindreader, and it’s not fair of me to expect you to be one.” Johnny blinked in confusion, and you crossed your arms tightly in front of you, avoiding his eyes for a moment, “I know there are much prettier women out there than me. I’d be an idiot and completely vain to think I was the most drop dead gorgeous woman out there.” You swallowed thickly, meeting Johnny’s eyes, ��It’s naive of me to think that no one in the world flirts with you - You’re extremely attractive. And it’s not fair of me to get upset with you when women flirt with you. But I can’t help but get upset whenever you flirt with them right back.”

“Doll…” Johnny whispered, but you held up a finger, cutting him off again.

“Please let me finish.” You looked at him, and he nodded, “I am so goddamned terrified that some wind is going to blow wrong and steal you away from me. I am so scared that some pretty blonde is going to waltz into your life and make you realize you don’t love me as much as you thought you did. I am beyond terrified that you’re going to wake up one day, look over at me, and ask yourself ‘Do I really like her as much as I originally thought?’.” Your voice broke with the threat of tears, and your breath was shaky in your chest, “I know nothing is guaranteed, but the idea of not waking up beside you is one that makes me so scared each and every single day. The idea of you just leaving me randomly one day is something that rattles around in my head like a fucking pinball, and it haunts my mind every single second of my life.” You ran your fingers through your hair, sighing heavily.

Johnny was silent for a moment, before he crossed the kitchen to you, wrapping his arms around your neck. His hand came to your hair, gently holding your head against his chest. He rested his chin on top of your head, before moving his head to where his lips were pressed against your hair. You gasped softly, clutching onto Johnny tightly.

“My babydoll…” He whispered into your hair, pulling back and looking into your eyes, “No one in this world will ever compare to you. No single person walking this earth right now, or that will walk on this earth in the future, will ever be able to replace you. If I lost you due to my own stupid mistakes, I would never be able to forgive myself.” His eyes were filled with genuine love and sincerity, and the sight made your eyes well up with tears again, “I promise you, there will never be a day that I wake up and question my love for you. There will never be a day where I will even entertain someone’s idea of being on my arm, because that’s where I want to keep you for the rest of our lives. I want to marry you, sweetheart. I want to watch our kids running around in the backyard, I want to grow old with you.”

“PJ…” You whispered, but he pulled you into a breathless kiss, his hand cradling the back of your head. Your hands ghosted over his wrists as he poured every single ounce of love he felt for you into the bruising kiss. After a few seconds, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“I cannot apologize to you enough, doll. Please forgive me.” He whispered, his eyes welling up with tears.

“Always, PJ.” You whispered back, closing your eyes, “I love you so fucking much.” You smiled up at him, and he let out a breathless chuckle.

“Oh, doll. I love you so much more.” He pressed kiss after kiss to your forehead, making you giggle, “There’s that laugh.” He murmured against your skin, a smile crossing his lips.

“C’mon, you gotta let me finish cooking.” You whined, giggling again as he pulled you harder against him, a deep grumble of protest echoed out of his chest, “I know you haven’t eaten all day, and I don’t want you to waste away to nothing.” You teased.

“Fine, fine.” He relented finally, letting you out of his arms, “Only because you said my favourite word.” He leaned back against the kitchen counter, smiling wistfully.

“What, cooking?” You stuck your tongue out at him, which made him laugh brightly. As you looked over at him, warmth and love bloomed in your chest. His words of ‘No one in this world will ever compare to you’ echoed through your mind and was a soothing, healing balm to your soul. You had a feeling that everything would be okay, as long as you two were by each other’s sides.

[kuroshitsuji-scenarios]

Commission – Bestseller

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Reader

Words: 4,363

Prompt: Sebastian makes a contract with someone who wants to become the world’s bestselling author. This time, however, he's willing to spice things up a little.

Warnings: None.

[ commission me ]

At first, you wanted to shout: “Go to hell!” but quickly found it quite ironic and eventually sat back down, picked your pen up and pretended to be writing something in the notebook, while the only thing that appeared on the blank pages were curly lines. Honestly, you could hardly recall the last time you met someone who’d be as eager to get on your nerves as the man who was now standing in front of you. The smirk on his lips only proved that the whole conversation you just had went according to his sly plan and in the end he was gratified with your outburst of emotions. Not a very common occurrence, he had to add, and therefore even more pleasant to observe.

“My, my”, he shook his head in a disappointed manner, as if he was scolding a child. “I wasn’t aware that this kind of information will have such an impact on you. Could it be that you’ve grown worried?”

“Worried?” You shot him a deathly glare. “I’m not worried. I’m angry and I’m starting to consider which side you are actually on. What made you think that killing (or whatever happened to that journalist) was such a bright idea?”

The demon smiled, the expression on his face clearly amused as the whole situation seemed to be rather entertaining for him. It’s been a long time since he actually gave his new contractor a little push—not to the right side, of course, but rather to watch you struggle and keep the balance as you always did in the end. It was almost as funny as listening to people beg for their lives, while all of them knew that there was no coming back once he was summoned.

“Sebastian,” you hissed his name through the gritted teeth. “Answer me.”

“Well, I must disagree with you on using the term ‘bright’ regarding this little incident.” He pretended to be lost in thoughts, touching his chin and looking at the wall of your office where all the prizes, photographs taken with famous people of literary business and newspaper articles were framed and hung on display for everyone to see what you were capable of when it came to using an imagination and pen. Or keyboard, as it was nowadays. “I’d rather go for ‘enticing’. ‘Compelling’, perhaps. ‘Thrilling’ even. ‘Enjo—”

“That’s enough.” You interrupted his speech, considering it pointless and a waste of your precious time. “I don’t care why you did that, I want you to stop. You’re perfectly aware that I’ve been giving interview after interview for the last two weeks and I’m going to continue doing that no matter what kind of dirty games you decide to play behind my back.”

“How threatening…”

“Moreover,” You pointed a finger at him. “If you keep doing this, I’ll have the right to consider it as acting against the rules of our contract.”

“There was not a single rule included which could prevent me from adding a little spice to the generally boring outcome of events. I thought you were aware of that. Signing books, doing interviews, all of that blown to make your ego grow until it pops.” Sebastian clicked his fingers to highlight the meaning of his words. “Like a bubble.”

“Hilarious.” You couldn’t frown no more even if you tried. “Now let's get back on topic. I forbid you to interrupt my hard work with your silly, little demon games. You’ll have your reward in the end so right now you’re only wasting your own time, because no matter what you do, I simply won’t give up. It can take the next forty years to complete while you’re stuck here with me, it doesn’t matter. So if you want to finish it quickly, I’d recommend you getting out of my way.”

There was a spark of amusement behind the demon’s eyes as he carefully observed you—as if something in your words struck him in a pleasant way. Undoubtedly, he made a good choice while deciding to answer this new contractor.

“That’s exactly what I meant while speaking about the lack of something enticing,” he admitted before turning on his heel and heading out of the office, his fingers intertwined behind his back and the corners of his lips turned upward in an eerie smile.

Pouring rain hitting the windows reminded you of a thousand fingers patting the glass in an unrhythmical manner. Focusing on a single droplet sliding down to the window frame didn’t help you concentrate, especially not with the pleasant silence now filling your bedroom up nor the fact that the last time you allowed yourself to rest was more than nineteen hours ago. Your body was giving you more significant signs of exhaustion with every passing minute and yet, you didn’t want to waste any of your time. Not when you’ve gotten to the perfect plot twist of your upcoming story—the second volume of the world’s bestseller book sold in millions of copies all around the globe. Although your success was guaranteed, you couldn’t simply sit and do nothing while waiting for applause. 

You jolted when the sudden thud hit the glass right next to the desk where you were sitting. It was loud, like a lost pigeon didn’t notice the window and flew into it at full speed but when you stood up to check whether it was hurt, laying somewhere near, it was impossible to notice any sharp shapes in the downpour. Perhaps it flew away or maybe it was just your brain tricking you into finally going to bed. Whatever it was, eventually it made you close the laptop and rub your tired eyes until you saw the stars behind the eyelids—and when you opened them again, you found out that the shadow in the corner of the bedroom is unusually dark compared to the rest. 

Almost as if there was a tall, slim figure standing there, facing the wall, covered in black robes.

Your initial reaction was paralyzing terror. Blood ran down from your face and in the next moment blew in your heart causing your cheeks to immediately heat. You could only sit there, watching the silhouette with unblinking eyes as your mind wanted to scream, to run, to fight, to—

“Sebastian.” The demon’s name left your lips almost involuntarily, just like shouting ‘help!’ came naturally to the drowning man. “I order you to stop this nonsense immediately.”

At first, nothing happened and for a moment you thought that maybe you weren’t even in your bedroom anymore, that the image in front of you was but a photograph glued to your face while the real you was dead, burning and bleeding and shrieking and—

“My, my…” You blinked at the sound of a familiar voice and the shadow from the corner was gone; surprisingly, you could also breathe freely again. “There’s no fun with you…”

Instead of the terrifying derealization, you were once again safe in your bedroom, everything in its own place. By the door, however, stood Sebastian with the same amused smirk on his handsome face, as if it was the only genuine emotion he was actually capable of showing.

“Fun?” You stood up from the chair, your fingers still slightly trembling after the heavy anxiety attack.

“I was worried that you might get some kind of… writer’s block, as they say,” he stated and nodded matter-of-factly. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing your spirit.”

Oh, how much you wanted to rip that happy expression off his face. Or maybe slap him. Or both. In all honesty, you could do it by giving him a simple order and yet, it didn’t feel right. What kind of satisfaction would you get from simply forcing him into your own will instead of actually making him feel a certain way? The leash you got him on was rather long, as the demon was almost free to roam around and do as he pleases, and maybe that was why you found those rare moments of his confusion so precious. 

And so, instead of scolding him or making him apologize, you simply decided to say:

“If you’re getting so bored during our contract, perhaps you’d enjoy it if we played fetch for a while? I have a feeling that it might be just your cup of tea.”

He didn’t say anything and yet, you could feel his disapproving stare burning into your back as you walked to the wardrobe. Surprisingly though, the memory of the silhouette in the dark corner still seemed to linger in your memory, although not as a bad one. Instead, you couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t just what you were looking for to fill the plot in the next chapter of your book.

“I can’t believe it…” you muttered, raising the menu card higher in front of your face to hide it from the not-so-subtle photographer who was waiting for his perfect shot outside the café. So far, you managed to run inside the building without being filmed and you could call it quite a success considering how tense the situation grew since the latest news got released to the public.

“The greatest author of the decade caught in love!” 

“Who is the mysterious man by her side?”

“Can we expect the next volume to be delayed due to the newfound romance?”

The headlines of newspapers and celebrity gossip websites were screaming at you from every angle—so much that you started to wonder if there would be a journalist jumping out of your own fridge to ask a few questions before lunch. Since the rumor about your romance—yours and Sebastian’s—were fairly new, you still didn’t manage to calm the public with some words of truth and a little sneak peek into your personal love life. Not that it was your intention, it was all but a play, of course. Another necessary step taken to avoid getting accused of the disappearance you certainly had nothing to do with.

Which you couldn’t say about the demon sitting right next to you by the table.

“Me neither,” Sebastian clicked his tongue, while still eyeing the menu. “The prices have surely gone up since the last time I’ve been there. Not that it’s an issue with your budget now, is it?”

If you didn’t know better, you might have believed that the kind smile he put on was sincere. Still, with the amount of knowledge you possessed and the time you wasted on trying to clean up after his mischief, you wanted nothing but to make him regret everything he’s ever said or done. He was the one to put you into this situation, after all. Like a single puppy left home alone, Sebastian went first for your new slippers, then the table leg and now he was chewing on your precious sofa—the couch meaning your privacy and relative peace of mind.

“Don’t give me that look.” He placed the menu back on the polished wood. “It wasn’t me who said that we were dating.”

“You forced me to do this! How else could I get a reliable alibi that I didn’t, in fact, murder anyone and especially not my own best friend?”

“I’m certain there was a lot of different ways to prove that.” He waved at the waiter. “Did you pick your order yet?”

“I’m not hungry.” You whispered something about going to the toilet when the waiter approached you two and only came back when he was gone, now your favorite beverage waiting for you at the table and Sebastian slowly sipping his tea.

“Besides,” he continued after you sat back down, moving your chair so your back was facing the window. “This outcome isn’t so bad, as you can see. You’re now even more famous than before.”

“I didn’t want to be some stupid celebrity and have people wonder what kind of bikini I wear and whether I have cellulite or not—I wanted to be known for my hard work. It’s something completely different than being stalked for having a guy like you nearby.”

“A guy like me?” He raised his slim eyebrow. “I doubt that would make it to the first pages.”

“I don’t care. I need to figure it all out and you’re going to help me whether you like it or not.”

“How overbearing.” Sebastian chuckled. “Enlighten me then, how do you plan on making it right?”

That’s where he got you. You still didn’t have any solid plan to retrieve your freedom and intimacy back and with all this chaos happening around you, with the demon constantly scheming against you behind your back, you felt quite overwhelmed. 

“That’s exactly what I thought.” He took a sip of his tea and placed the teacup back on the saucer. “And I suppose I have a perfect solution for this problem.”

“Meaning?” You wondered, hoping that this time you would finally hear some more useful news than another joke or allusion.

Instead of answering, Sebastian gently reached to you and placed his warm hand upon your cheek, caressing your lips with the featherlike touches of his thumb. His gaze was focused on you, slowly trailing from your eyes, through the curve of the nose down the mouth and back up again. He smiled at you but this time there was no insincerity behind it but rather pure fascination. Amazement, even, and one could say that also adoration.

It’s been a long time since Sebastian took a look at your soul, after all. Although he was present in your life almost everyday, it was quite rare for you to open up to him—you weren’t the type to cry your eyes out on his shoulder nor beg him for love. On the contrary. And for some odd reason he found it the most amusing—your soul, your price waiting to be paid hidden from his gaze, except for those tiny moments like this one when he was finally capable of looking you in the eyes and almost tasting your spirit at the tip of his tongue.

The sensation made him shiver with anticipation.

Eventually, Sebastian leaned forward and after not witnessing any kind of resistance from you, placed a soft, sweet kiss upon your lips. His own were still warm from the temperature of the tea he drank, tasting like herbs and honey, and his smell overwhelming your senses when you gave up to this gentle affection and closed your eyes to savor it. For the first time in months your heart started to beat faster but not because of stress or fear but rather excitement—something so trivial, you wouldn’t expect yourself of.

Sebastian kissed you slowly, barely nibbling at your lips and not taking any step further. His fingers left your cheek with an unpleasant coldness and rested at the crook of your neck, slightly pulling you closer but not strong enough to make you feel caged. Involuntarily you leaned toward him also, supported by the elbows on the wooden table and not paying attention to the fact that you have just most likely exposed yourself to all the people passing by the café. If the creepy paparazzi was still there, he had a once in a lifetime opportunity to immortalize the first official kiss of yours with your mysterious company.

And somehow, you thought it was alright. If you wanted your alibi to be solid, you should prove to everyone that Sebastian was, indeed, your husband and the mysterious disappearances had nothing to do with you. 

Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.

Initially, Sebastian was like some kind of hideous decoration standing in the middle of the living room—painted in vivid colors, with weird, eye-catching shape and not fitting to any particular home decoration style. You could place an elephant there as well and the overall effect it had on the guests would be quite similar. He was an interruption, a sudden chance of weather, an anomaly in your life, the one you called for yourself and although you considered him to be a hassle most of the time, as months passed you found yourself paying less and less attention to the abstract puzzle at the center of the jigsaw. It wasn’t that he was becoming less visible or having less impact on your everyday life—on the contrary, Sebastian’s actions were as ostentatious as always, it was just you who started to tolerate and maybe even like the strange addition to your new life.

Indeed, one could even accuse you of enjoying his company too much, especially when you were sharing a bed, tangled in the bedding and droplets of sweat glistening on your temple. His fingers were delicate and movements calculated to bring you nothing but pleasure when he was caressing and massaging your naked body. In those moments, you found him beautiful. With a warm gaze, perfectly cut lips, strong jaw and slim silhouette he could stand on the same pedestal as countless of Greek sculptures stood. Right now, however, he was not cold as marble but rather soft and attentive, all the previous flirts replaced by what could be described as nothing but endless love and adoration.

Fortunately, you knew better than to trust the perfect mask he chose just for you. It didn’t stop you from indulging into the pleasure, though, for how could you deny yourself a spark of joy when in the end it was supposed to be him to devour your whole existence and turn you into nothing? It would be a shame to not take everything this man, this demon, had to offer.

You were walking down the shore, the view of setting sun rays dancing over the nearby buildings making it seem like the whole world has somehow turned into molten gold. Yellows and oranges painted your surroundings into the real piece of art, something you weren’t sure anyone could ever capture on the canvas with mere brushes. The town you decided to stay in (small and rather unknown, free from the crowds of tourists) had everything you could possibly need for an effective rest and refreshing inspiration—restaurants by the sea, both museums and clubs, promenade near the beach and a whole street of various shops. It was truly something new, the change of scenery making it easier to breathe and prepare for the upcoming premiere of a brand new video game based on your story alone.

You could say a lot of things about Sebastian and how he managed to get on your nerves like nobody else, but you had to admit that there wasn’t a single slip in his plan to make your biggest dream come true. Everything he promised you was truly happening, step by step, one at a time, but eventually you could clearly see the results. As much as you loved it, you couldn’t not notice how it was all leading to the end of your own story also.

“Lost in thoughts?” Sebastian asked, his long fingers intertwined with yours as you slowly passed by the sailboats docked to the pier. “Were you thinking about the grand premiere?”

“I thought I had nothing to worry about in this regard.” You peeked at him from under your sunglasses. “Was I mistaken?”

“No, not in the slightest. I assure you I took care of everything.”

“So it’ll be an indisputable success?” You insisted.

“Are you doubting your own skills all of a sudden?”

For the first time you left him without an answer. Perhaps it was the matter of the different surroundings or maybe it was the setting sun that brought this mood to you, but watching as it slowly drowned in the endless ocean you wondered how it will feel to have your soul sucked out of you. Will it hurt? Will you be scared? Or maybe you won’t notice it at all? Was it up to Sebastian to decide on how he will take it?

Your dreams were coming true, the very thing you craved for such a long period of time was finally yours, kept in your hands and there was no obstacle nor foe that could take that away from you, so why were you getting nostalgic all of a sudden?

“Should I take it as a ‘yes’?” Sebastian’s voice brought you back to reality but he didn’t give you enough time to answer. “My, my, I didn’t take you for an insecure type.”

“You shouldn’t worry your pretty, little head about things you won’t understand. Emotions are not your strong point, if I remember correctly?”

He chuckled but admitted you were right.

The oranges turned into burning red, making it seem as if the horizon was on fire. Behind your back, the sky was slowly fading from all its colors, leaving the thick stripes of pale pink, purple and navy blue at the east. You could spot a few stars shyly appearing there.

“I merely did what you ordered me to,” Sebastian continued and to your surprise, added further:. “I cannot say whether you would be able to achieve it with or without my intervention.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“I’m speaking about the ‘right place and right time’ occurrence. Surely you know that your work is good as it is, don’t you?”

You stopped and looked at him confused, not really understanding where he was going with all this dialogue and unexpected confession. Pulling him slightly by the hand, you forced him to stop also.

“Explain yourself. Or should I get worried about you having a sun stroke?”

The demon tilted his head and you thought that he was going to kiss you again, just to make you forget about all those questions and doubts. Nevertheless, he knew that you were smart and wouldn’t simply be silenced by some sweet nothings.

“What do you think I did to make all your books bestsellers?”

You shrugged. It could be some kind of his hellish magic or personal charm which allowed him to get whatever he wanted wherever he got. Quite difficult to tell for an ordinary human, since he never bragged about his methods and you never cared enough to ask.

“I’m aware that you’re not familiar with my ways of working,” he admitted. “However, influencing a group of people can be rather troublesome, not to mention when the target group is reaching almost the whole world. Simply put, it would cost me a lot of time and energy to force them all into purchasing your precious books, leaving flattering reviews and recommending further and so, I decided to wait instead.”

“For the ‘right place and time’?” you quoted him.

“Exactly.” He gently pulled you after him so you could continue the afternoon stroll in the sunset. “I was waiting and observing the people involved until finally the perfect opportunity struck. That’s when I whispered a word or two to those who were in charge of certain matters, sneaked a copy of your manuscript et voilà! It doesn’t change the fact that the one who created and wrote those stories was you.”

The sounds of small waves swinging in the shore filled your brain with peaceful, rhythmical melody when you were analyzing Sebastian’s words over and over again. You were walking mindlessly by his side now, too lost in thoughts to notice that the circle of light finally hid behind the horizon and left the whole palette of colors above your head. The salty smell of the water was reaching your nose and you could hear people chatting and laughing somewhere in the distance—there was also music playing in one of the gardens of a nearby restaurant.

It was such a peaceful scenery, it completely didn’t match the chaos in your mind.

“Are you…” You cleared your throat, finding it difficult to form your thoughts into sentences. “Are you saying that I could have achieved all of that without your help?”

Sebastian smiled at you with such an adoration that it made your blood run cold.

“And you knew it from the very beginning? From the day we met?” You insisted, feeling as his silence started to fuel the spark of anger inside your heart.

“No, I cannot predict the future. All I did was calculate the turn of events and pick the best moment to strike. If it turned out that your books were a complete failure, then I’d have to intervene in a different way but fortunately, they were not. I suppose I can share this little secret of mine now that you almost reached your final goal.”

Your fingers were suddenly cold against his, the fresh breeze caressing the heated skin on your cheeks when you turned to the side and looked at the endless sea. You wondered if perhaps it was better to not know the truth and die clueless.

The smile which appeared on your lips was rather surprising to Sebastian and maybe it surprised even you. Whatever his intentions were, he wasn’t expecting you to react positively to this kind of news—you could cry and wail, cursing him for using you for his own gain, you could argue with him, accuse him of breaking the rules of the contract or tricking you into believing that you were completely hopeless without him, you could do anything! And yet, you simply smiled and then let out a happy chuckle.

Then, without a warning, you were the one to pull him to the side and head toward the restaurant where you could hear the music playing.

“Are you not going to respond in any way?” Sebastian frowned and you could clearly see that it was the first time in many centuries that someone managed to puzzle him.

You looked at him over your shoulder and pushed the sunglasses up your head to meet his stare. Then you laughed at his confused expression, so different from the everpresent smugness and confidence, and you swore that whatever was going to happen, it was worth living all those years, even if just for witnessing him making this face at how far he still was from understanding human nature.

“Well, what can I say?” You shrugged. “I told you I’m the best writer in the world.”

[ commission me ]

[raitrolling]

(Previous parts: part 1, part 2)

“That is P6, Sharle. P6.”

Prozit’s usual calm tone was somehow even more devoid of emotion as Sharle crossed the finish line.

He knew. They all knew. The team had let their driver down.

Just one mistake - one wheel nut that had been fastened incorrectly at the start of the race, which then caused difficulties removing the tyre during the pit stop - was all it took for Sharle to lose a win that otherwise would have been guaranteed. 

The blueblood had tried everything he could to climb back up to his rightful position, but there was simply nothing doing. Fifth place was much too far ahead for him to ever get a chance to catch up, and he’d built up enough for a gap from seventh place that he didn’t have to worry about defending his position.

An entire hour, stuck in no man’s land, driving in circles around the track waiting for it to finally end. He’d vented out all his anger over the radio communications the lap after the blunder had occurred. He didn’t feel angry anymore. He just felt hollow.

Sharle did not respond to his engineer. 

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

“Sharle! Is everything okay?”

Ropikk raced down the pit lane as fast as her legs could carry her to meet the blueblood as he exited the weighing station.

Sharle stared in surprise while Ropikk paused to catch her breath, and then nodded in response.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he replied, plainly.

The jadeblood squinted, not believing him for a second.

“No, it’s not fine. I can see it on your face. I’m- The team is really sorry about what happened. I know nothing is going to make up for it, and you deserved that win, but- Hey!” Her sympathetic tone was interrupted by an indignant squeak as Sharle started to walk away. “The media pen is the other way, you know you have to do those or we’ll get fined!”

The blueblood stopped, then briefly turned back to look at her. She could see the weariness of his dead-eyed gaze, as if hundreds of laps worth of races over the sweeps had finally caught up to him and the utter exhaustion had hit him all at once. 

He grit his teeth, and turned away again.

“I can’t. I’m going home.” He shook his head, voice strained from barely holding back what remained of his emotions.

Ropikk grimaced and clutched the clipboard in her hands tightly. She felt torn between the professionalism of being his manager and demanding he fulfil his media duties, and the sympathy of seeing someone she cherished so deeply look so utterly wrecked.

The jadeblood bit her lip, then nodded.

“I’ll let Mansel know.” 

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

“Yeah, I mean twelfth place ain’t the best, but given that we started fourteenth I think that’s the best result I was gonna get. Overtaking on this track is real hard, especially when you have all us backmarkers bunched up in a DRS train, so not much I could have done.” 

Tira shrugged, leaning casually on the barrier of the media pen as reporters shoved microphones in his face and asked the same questions over and over again. 

Usually these were much more exciting when he had finished in a point-scoring position, but those… Had not been happening as often as he’d liked this season. Now every single interviewer only wanted to hear about how much he’s struggling and if he feels like his time in Formula One is coming to an end, given that his contract expires at the end of the sweep. 

But, despite his frustrations at getting constantly reminded of his shortcomings, the tealblood had to smile and laugh his way through it all, as he was trained to do.

“Alright, next question,” the journalist said, now looking a little more concerned. “We’ve heard that your teammate Sharle Casini has refused to attend the post-race interviews. We’re sure he’s disappointed about the outcome, what do you think is going through his mind right now?”

The tealblood’s face fell, stunned.

“Huh? Nah, nah, you must be mistaken, Sharlie- sorry, Casini never misses these things,” Tira responded with a PR-friendly grin, then turned to look at the rest of the drivers in the pen.

Sure enough, the falcon troll was absent.

“Huh, damn. Shit must be real serious.” The tealblood was bewildered, but then sighed and shook his head. He knew that by the time the allotted hour for media interviews was over, Sharle would be long gone.

“But really though, can you blame him?”

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

Sharle had managed to keep it together as he walked away from the circuit, side-stepping media crews and security, not acknowledging a single person.

He supposed it was fortunate that this was his home race, meaning he could walk straight to his apartment without any obstacles in his way.

And as soon as he closed the front door behind him, he slumped against it before slowly sliding to the floor, and sobbed.

[fruitcoops]

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

[harlowdoylepi]

We got three chapters left...hang on guys

TA-418 Saga Part 11: Courage to Continue

Monica walked down Odyssey’s main street, feeling good. She straightened the collar of her white button-down shirt. She wore a black blazer over her shirt and a black pencil skirt. She wanted to make a good impression at her job interview, and she made sure to dress the part. That had at least helped because she got the job and started effective immediately on Monday.

She walked to the end of the street at the crosswalk. As soon as the street was clear, she walked across the street as fast as her high heels would allow her. She held her head high as she walked, letting the morning sun shine on her face, soaking in it’s warmth. A small smile of pleasure spread across her face. She had gotten a job and was feeling good.

Almost good enough to go and visit Duncan. Maybe it would be easier to face him now that she had at least part of her life together. Maybe it would be easier for him to forgive her for everything. But then again, maybe he wouldn’t. She sighed. She knew she couldn’t hide from it for long. Perhaps it would be best to rip off the band-aid and go directly to Hillingdale.

Monica was about to make up her mind to go there, when suddenly, she became aware of footsteps close behind her.

Casting a glance over her shoulder, she realized that someone was following her. She had seen him as she departed the place where she was being interviewed. The man was wearing sunglasses and a hat, so she couldn’t tell who he was.

As soon as he saw she had noticed him, he spoke up. “Excuse me, miss?”

Monica knew that if he got her to slow down her pace, he could get her to stop. She didn’t know what this guy wanted, so she quickened her pace. The man matched her stride and was soon walking beside her.

He spoke in a low voice. “Monica, we need to talk.”

Her face did not change. She knew this voice all too well. She took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. “Charles.” She said curtly, “Nice to see your back on the outside.” She didn’t mean it.

“Likewise I’m sure.”

She kept looking straight ahead. “Pretty bold of you to come back to Odyssey.”

A flicker of a sneer ran across Charles mouth. “You have arguably more boldness than I do, considering your track record with the good people of Odyssey is far more personal than mine.”

Monica glanced down but remained silent. She didn’t want to dignify that slight with a response. She also didn’t know if she could defend herself when what Charles had said was true. She did have a more personal track record with the people here.

Charles broke her thoughts. “Actually, your track record is exactly why I’m here.”

Through her teeth, Monica said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

���Oh, I think we should.” Charles stopped dead in his tracks.

The redheaded woman stopped and turned to face him.

Charles took a step towards her. “He’s back, Monica. And he’s got a new mission.”

Her brow furrowed. “He? He who?” No! Not him, please don’t let it be him! She wasn’t sure if that was a prayer, a wish, or just a thought, but whatever it was, she hoped it worked.

“I think you know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“What does this have to do with me?” she asked, deciding to play dumb.

“We need your help. You have the resources and the know-how to get us what --and who -- we need. In other words, I have a mission for you.”

“What if I refuse?”

Charles smiled condescendingly. “Oh, Monica,” He purred, “When have you ever been able to pass up a mission?”

She took a step back. “What if I’m tired of it? What if I’m ready for something else?"

He shook his head. “You’ve never been able to before. You may go through a phase where you say you’re ‘different’ and ‘law-abiding’ but you’ll always be back. I know you too well for that.”

Monica closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She fought to keep her voice steady. “Charles I-”

“Come on, Monica,” he interrupted with a hint of impatience, then turned to a more coaxing tone. “You know you want to.”

Monica gritted her teeth. Not this time, Charles. “No.” She clenched her fists. “I don’t want to.”

Charles took another step and looked her in the eye. He was not used to being refused. “What?”

Her eyes bored holes in him, and her words came out clearly and separately, as though they were cut out of ice. “I said no. I’m making a choice this time, Charles. I’m not going back.”

Before he could retort or do anything else, she turned and began to run, which was difficult considering she was wearing heels, but she had to get out of there.

“Monica!” Charles commanded. She didn’t hesitate or even give a second look over her shoulder.

He gave a low growl; his voice grew deadly. “You want to play that way? Fine.” he muttered under his breath, “There are ways in which she can be persuaded.” He turned and walked in the opposite direction, a plan already forming in his mind.

Connie and Jillian pulled into a parking space nearest to Whit's End. They had just gotten a call from Whit that they could go inside the shop now. No one had not been allowed to go in since the shop was vandalized. They both got out of the car and walked over to where they could see Whit, Richard, and Jason standing out front talking.

There was still plenty of debris scattered on the ground and the landscaping was still torn up. Connie wanted to get to them quickly but had to wait for Jillian as she meticulously tried to pick her way around all that lay on the ground. She nearly lost her balance a couple of times as she tried to navigate through on her neon pink platform heels.

"Good morning, Connie," Whit called out.

"Hey, Whit." Forgetting Jillian, Connie quickened her pace and walked up to him, embracing him warmly.

"Hey Richard, hey Jason." She greeted each of them.

"Hiya."

"Good morning."

Connie turned. "Jillian, are you coming?"

Jillian was still only halfway across the lawn. "Yeah, I'm coming!" She tottered a little, making her large hoop earrings sway dramatically.

Connie rolled her eyes. "I told her she shouldn't wear those shoes when we were getting ready to come."

Finally, Jillian got there. She gave a winsome smile. "Hello, boys."

"Hello, Ms. Marshall," Richard said dispassionately.

"Jillian." Jason said in a tone that was polite, but all together lacking in endearment.

The silence that followed was slightly awkward.

Whit broke it. "Alright, before we go in, make sure to put on a hardhat."

Each of them grabbed one and put it on as they walked into the discovery emporium.

"And it took me three hours to get my hair this way." Jillian pouted as she carefully adjusted the hardhat, trying not to make it mess up her carefully styled hair.

They all walked inside. There was no bell above the door to announce their entrance like there usually was, which felt wrong in itself.

A dismayed murmur escaped from the group as they looked around the shop. The chairs and tables had been tipped and lay around in disarray. Thousands of fragments of glass and rubble littered the floor.

Richard gave a low whistle.

“I love it when you do that.” Jillian giggled.

Richard pursed his lips and made a mental note to never whistle in her presence again.

Connie put her hands over her mouth. "It's even worse than I thought."

"Did the forensics people find any evidence in this mess?" Jason asked.

"Admittedly, they didn't find much," Whit reported. "These guys knew what they were doing. However, they did find a pair of muddy shoe prints, they also found some hair and they’re analyzing it for DNA."

“These guys always slip up some way or another.” Jason observed.

Connie glanced down at the scattered bits of broken glass that lay all over the floor. “Are we allowed to start cleaning up around here?”

“Yes, Detective Polehaus gave us the go-ahead,” Whit answered. “I have some repairmen coming to look at the shop later and give us an estimate on the damage.”

“Okay, in that case, I’ll at least try to get started on cleaning up around here.” Connie quickly walked off to the kitchen. The door swung shut behind her.

“I’m going to go upstairs and see if they did anything up there.” Jason started up the stairs. “I’ll go with you” Richard followed behind.

“Do you guys need help?” Jillian called after them.

“We’re good. Thanks though.” Jason shouted from the top of the stairs.

The two men walked through the Bible room. The figurines in the various displays were knocked over and so were the fake trees that were set up in the garden of Eden display, but other than that there wasn’t that much damage compared to the first floor.

Whit came downstairs after checking on the Imagination Station. The front glass had been smashed in, but much to his relief, they hadn’t destroyed the inside of it, or messed with the circuit board. They hadn’t done nearly as much upstairs as was first believed.

He strolled across the soda fountain area and went around the counter. He could hear Connie rummaging around inside the cleaning closet, trying to find the broom and dustpan. Something crunched under his shoes. He glanced down and saw more pieces of glass. He looked up and saw that the soda glasses Connie had washed the night before and set by the sink to dry were now smashed to bits, sparkling as they caught the light.

“They sure had a field day here, didn’t they?” Connie’s muffled voice called from the closet.

Whit shook his head. “I know.”

“Is everything alright upstairs?”

“It’s better than down here.” He replied. He started to walk to the door to go through the kitchen to go to the servant’s staircase that led up to his office.

“Whit.” Connie’s voice came more clearly from the closet.

He turned. Connie was standing in the doorway of the closet, gripping the broom handle tightly. She pursed her lips and looked like she was on the edge of tears.

A shadow of concern crossed Whit’s face. “Are you alright?”

Connie took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. I’m just- I don’t know- feeling a little anxious about this whole thing. The whole situation with this place being vandalized, and the old building, and Blair getting hurt, and… all that.” she gave a small shudder, and rocked back and forth on her feet. “It reminds me of the times when Blagaard was here.”

Whit looked at her sympathetically. “I know how you feel. I’ve thought the same thing myself.”

“You don’t think it is Blagaard, is it?”

“No, I don’t think it is.” Whit reassured her.

Connie tapped her foot anxiously. “Then who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know.”

“I hate that. Not knowing things. It makes me feel so… helpless.”

Whit gave a gentle smile. “God knows what’s going on Connie. And he will give us the strength to face whatever happens. No matter who is behind this.”

She nodded. “I know. I wish I didn’t forget that so frequently.”

“It’s something we all need to be reminded of, but especially in times like these.” he smiled. “I think I needed to be reminded of it too.”

Jason and Richard trotted down the stairs. “For the most part everything just needs some general clean up in the Bible room and the train room, Dad,” Jason called out.

“A lot of books were torn off the shelves and dumped on the floor.” Jillian came out from the door that led into the little library.

“We’ll take care of that momentarily,” Whit nodded, “I’m going upstairs to check on the office and-”

At that moment Monica burst in, she slammed the door shut behind her and staggered, steadying herself against the counter.

Jason's expression turned to concern. “Monica, are you alright?”

She gulped and nodded. Jason didn’t look convinced. He pulled up a chair and sat her down. She took several ragged breaths and clutched her side with one hand. “I- I’ll be fine. I just came from my job interview and-” she broke into a spasm of coughing.

“I’ll go get you some water.” Jason walked over behind the counter to go and find a glass that wasn’t smashed. A look of jealousy flitted over Jillian’s face as he did this. “I’m pretty thirsty too,” she added.

“There are glasses in the cupboard that aren’t broken, Jillian,” Connie answered. Jason cast an appreciative glance in her direction.

“Did you run all the way from your job interview?” Richard asked.

“Almost.”

“Was there a reason for you doing that?” Whit asked curiously.

“Yeah. It’s pretty serious too.”

Jason came carrying a small plastic glass of water. “Here’s your water. What was it?”

Monica took a long drink while everyone waited in suspenseful silence.

She set the glass down and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Jason.” She stood up, “I saw Bennett Charles.”

Jason, Connie, and Whit started. Richard and Jillian looked confused.

“What?!”

“I can’t believe this!”

“Who??”

Whit turned to Richard. “Do you remember the Novacom scheme we told you about last time you were here?” He asked.

Richard nodded. “Yeah, when a couple of corporations tried to take over the world with mind control?”

“Charles was one of the men heavily involved in that scheme.”

Richard’s eyebrows shot up. “And he’s back?”

“Yes,” Monica answered. “He talked to me.”

Jason leaned forward. “What did he say?”

Monica proceeded to recap their conversation. All the while Jillian stared at her sullenly.

Monica held her water glass and looked at it as though it would give her the words to say. “He told me he knew I would be back. He said he knew that I would always come back to a life of crime.”

Jillian spoke up. “Well, I mean sometimes we all have things we LITERALLY just can’t re-”

Jason shot her a don’t-you-say-another-word-look. He turned back to Monica. “I don’t think that’s the case with you.”

She rubbed her forehead, “ I’ve seen way too many cases like it. At Campbell county prison, prisoners would get on parole, but they’d be back. Within weeks or days, even. Sometimes I wonder if it’s true. Sometimes I wonder if people with pasts like mine can ever change.”

“Only by the grace of God.” Richard said softly, “I know.” Even a traitor may mend. I have known one that did.

Jason put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t let what he said get to you. The fact that you ran away says otherwise. I’m proud of you.”

She smiled weakly. “Thanks.” She whispered.

“But in the meantime,” Connie jumped in, “what are we going to do about Charles? He’s clearly up to something!”

“I’ll notify agent Bourland, but we don’t have any evidence that he is up to anything. For now, it’s just Monica’s word against his.”

“They’re probably pretty busy with the old building case and Jellyfish right now,” Jason added.

Richard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Charles, the old building, Jellyfish,” he muttered thoughtfully, “Do you think they’re connected?”

Whit looked at him. “I don’t know. I ought to look into that.”

Monica stood up. “Thank you for everything guys.” she smiled. “I’ll be in touch.” she walked out.

“Bye Monica.” Richard, Jason, Connie and Whit chorused.

Blair gazed listlessly out the hospital window. She had stayed overnight so the doctors could observe her. She was going to be discharged the next morning according to the nurse. She couldn’t wait to get out of there. The place was cheerless, outside of the times that Jay and Buddy came to visit, as well as Richard’s occasional check ups. Connie had stopped by last night to bring her some things from her apartment. The pain in her arm was starting to subside, since the painkiller was starting to kick in.

Her phone rang and it vibrated the stand by the bed. She reached for it with her free hand. Reaching it required her to turn to her side. She groaned. She had a bruise on the side of her leg and her chest ached anytime she turned, or laughed, or did anything outside of staying still. She quickly reached and grabbed the phone. She glanced at the screen. The contact name read Alex. She smiled and pressed the accept button.

“Hello?”

“Hey Blair.” Her youngest brother’s voice came raspily over the phone.

“What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that. Did Mom call you?”

“Yeah, she did yesterday afternoon.”

“Did she let you have it?”

“Not like when we were kids. She was mostly just worried.”

“Yeah, we all were when Mr. Bourland told us. Chris sends his love. He wanted to call but had work and couldn’t get the time.”

“Send him my love too.”

There was silence for several moments.

Alex let out a long sigh. “Sis, you really should have let someone help you out with this.”

“Well I couldn’t take you, you haven’t even graduated yet. That would definitely be endangering a minor, and I didn't want you to be a high school dropout. And Chris is climbing the ladder in the business world. I wasn’t going to take him away from that.”

“He did inherit the business gene from Dad,” Alex commented. “Well, if not me or Chris, then somebody. If someone was there, you might be alright.”

“A couple of kids were helping me when I went in. But they were there by coincidence.”

“Or maybe not.”

“Well, for lack of a better word.”

“I would say providence is more like it.”

Blair nodded slowly. “You’re right.” she said quietly. “If it hadn’t been for them, I might not be alive right now.”

“Exactly. I don’t know if we - I - could have coped with that.” Alex’s voice choked up. “We’ve already had one death in the family, we couldn’t lose you too.”

Blair blinked several times to keep her own tears at bay. “Oh, Alex.” she whispered softly. More than anything, she wanted to be there with him, to give him a hug, and tell him that everything would be alright. Alex was such an enthusiastic and optimistic person, she was always concerned, yet honored when he shared his worries or sadness with her.

He took a deep breath. “You’re independent, even a loner sometimes Blair, and I get that. But you can’t expect to do something like this alone.”

“I know now.” Blair answered, glancing down at her arm, which was now in a cast, rather than a splint.

Blair could hear a slight smile in his voice. “It takes a team, you know? We were created to need other people.”

“Yeah. And I’m lucky to have someone like you on my team.” she smiled, “Thanks for the reminder. It’s something I don’t remember often enough.”

“Hey, we gotta stick together.”

She knew he was thinking of Brad when he said this. Despite the tragedy of his death, it had drawn the family closer together in some ways. They communicated with each other more openly, and more frequently.

“How’s graduation prep coming?” she asked, changing the subject.

“It’s going well. It’ll be in about six weeks. Do you think you’ll make it?”

“Definitely. Bourland took me off the case anyway.” She said jokingly.

“Ah, glad you could pencil me in.” Alex joked back.

She laughed, then stopped abruptly. “Ow, ow, ow.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Just my ribs.” she answered hoarsely.

“What did they do to you?”

“Bourland didn’t tell you?”

“Only some things. Tell me from the beginning, all about the case I mean. I get the feeling I don’t know half of what was going on.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

That evening, a quarter moon shone over Whit’s End. A car pulled up in front of the shop and John Avery Whitaker got out. As he walked up the front steps, he pulled out his keys. He needed to check on something, but hadn’t gotten the time until now.

What Connie had earlier that day, and when Monica had announced Charles' return, it had brought something back to his memory. Then, when Richard said he wondered if it all was connected, it made him wonder even more. He had a hunch and wanted to check to see if it was correct. He needed to check the secret computer room. He unlocked the door and pulled out his flashlight, shining the light on the floor to avoid tripping on anything as he walked in. He walked through the desolate soda fountain area. The flashlight beam cast lanky shadows on the walls and the floor. The older man carefully ascended the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the dead night air.

He walked into his office, closed the curtains, and flipped the light switch. Whit blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the light. He searched the shelves for a moment or two, until he found the book he was looking for. The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis. He opened the book and looked in the back of the inside of the cover. Ah-ha! Good to know the key was still in its place. He placed it in the keyhole and twisted it.

The door opened slowly, and revealed what hid behind it. His secret computer room. He walked in. “Hello Mabel.” he said to the biggest monitor.

The monitor’s screen flashed to life. “Hello John Avery Whitaker.” Mabel’s robotic voice answered.

“Mabel, show the log history.”

Mabel whirred. “Showing log history.” The log appeared on the screen.

Whit’s eyes scanned the various entries and looked for any he didn’t recognize. There was one when Eugene was in here a couple weeks ago, then there was the entry where he was going to shut off the train set because it was malfunctioning. But there was one recent log he didn’t recognize. It was at 12:32 P.M., three days ago. When the shop was closed.

He gasped. Someone had broken into the computer room two days after the shop was vandalized. His pulse raced. “T-thank you, Mabel. Uh, shut down.”

“Shutting down.” The computerized voice responded. The screen went dark after a few seconds. The whirring in the computer slowed, then stopped completely.

Whit sat in the silence of the hidden room. He tapped his hand on the tabletop anxiously. Was it someone on the police force? He made a mental note to check with detective Polehaus the next day.

He scratched his head. “The question is...who did this, and why?”

That evening, a man looked out the bay window over the nighttime bustle of the city. From this building, you could see a lot of the cityscape, and the Chicago river winding down below.

Things had gone awry. Badly. Some person had barged into Charles operation central in Odyssey. Then the police arrived and those who were in the building panicked and left. They didn’t take the person with them, and now, he or she was a witness out in the open. What was worse was that by now she probably had protection. He now wished he hadn’t already assigned his sniper to take care of the leak in San Francisco. To add to things, it turned out that the man Myron Horowitz had been following had caught onto him before he could make his move. How did that happen? Time and his job had clearly done Mitchell some favors. One day, he was following him and about to ‘take care’ of him, then the next thing Myron knew, Mitch and his superior made contact and he made sure he was never out of his sight. To make things worse, Mitchell and his boss knew that he was being followed and were actively looking for him. He had to ditch his car, and wasn’t sure what to do.

The man sat forward in his office chair and rubbed his eyes. “Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.” He mumbled.

The one silver lining was that he had friends in high places in Odyssey, who could get them out of scrapes. Officer D.A. Henderson. When the police were investigating the building, and the men scattered, Henderson “followed” the men, but "Lost them". He came back claiming that they shook him off. He and Rolland were the ones who hadn’t messed things up.

The man stood up. “Well, I know what I need to do.” He picked up the phone and dialed a number. The phone buzzed a few times, then someone picked it up on the other end.

“Hello, Charles? Yes, please tell Rolland and Jellyfish to drop their missions and to meet me here tomorrow evening."

A pause.

"Several reasons, but mainly this one: We need to regroup. We’ve been outsmarted nearly every turn of the way, no thanks to you. It will help if we can temporarily take the most-wanted ones for a few days. Just to throw a cog in the works. This stall would be all that we need to finish the final steps of our plan.....So we need to get back together and talk about how to execute the final step of this plan without them getting in the way……Yes, get them on the next flight here…..Don't fail me again, Charles. The stakes are high and I can't afford another goof up from you, or any other of your comrades. Remember that."

[chilly-me-softly]

could you possibly do a part 2 for the marcus and jesse trio? i loved that one :)

Part 1

"(Y/N) are you okay?" Marcus is among the first to approach you after the collision as a grimace of pain is painted on your face holding your right hip. The knee of one of the opponents had landed right in your side causing you to miss your breath for a moment, making you stay down for a few moments longer than usual and forcing the medical team to come closer.

"Just the knock, don't worry" you grit your teeth as the staff puts cold ice on the affected spot, making sure you can continue the game. The others move away taking the opportunity to talk amongst themselves, only Marcus stays by your side helping you up not taking his eyes off you as you limp with the medics towards the sideline.

And at every opportunity he comes up to you asking you how you feel with his hand before his mouth, asking you to be honest and to be replaced if it bothers you in any way. But you always shake your head, there is little time left until the end of the first half and you are determined to see it through. In the changing room you get another look and make your points.

And you sit on the bench lifting your jersey to wipe the sweat from your face when you hear Marcus mutter something a few seats down from you.

"How can you say you're fine?!" he asks dumbfounded with his gaze pointing at you and instinctively you lower your gaze following the trajectory of his gaze, noticing that a huge bluish bruise has formed on your side. You lower your shirt but his gaze lingers there.

"It doesn't hurt"

"Don't talk shit!" he retorts immediately and you can feel the atmosphere in the room change at that very moment. Some stop talking about tactics being distracted by the two of you, others simply look at you expectantly. It was rare to see the two of you bickering, to see those fiery glances at each other. Usually Marcus was the one to calm you down or vice versa, but when one was the target of the other you just had to take cover.

"Do you want to know my body better than I do Marcus?"

"I just wish you would put everything aside for once and focus on yourself"

"Hmph look who's talking" you roll your eyes as the manager walks into the locker room right then starting to talk about tactics and how he's going to plan to proceed for the second half. You listen to him as the doctors take the opportunity to take another look at you.

Jesse didn't get involved, just watched you as a spectator like the others, but he knows he has to keep a close eye on you from then on. Because he knows you and he knows how proud you can be, he knows how you can push yourself over the edge so you don't have to hear I told you so.

In the end you had been substituted in the 80th minute, the game more than over at that point seeing you with a clear advantage over your opponents. You'd fallen a couple of times for some tackles, the opposing team certainly hadn't had as much trouble as you had. Your gaze had met Jesse's as soon as you'd sat down, but you'd quickly looked away and pretended not to notice.

"Stubborn" the boy murmured with a smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes before watching the remaining minutes of that game as you clutched your water bottle.

At the referee's whistle you had walked back onto the pitch to shake everyone's hands and chat with familiar faces and exchange your jersey, before being taken aside for an interview. For some strange reason you don't meet Marcus.

On the plane you practically only sit for the take-off and landing moment, riding the wave of victory and the good mood of everyone joking and laughing with the group. And it's when you get off the bus that took you from the airport to the facility that morning that reality hits you hard. You can't keep ignoring Marcus forever, you arrived with him that morning after all.

He's waiting for you in front of the car with keys in hand, waiting for you to greet Jesse. "Take care, tomorrow morning I want both of you alive" is the last thing he says to you before getting into his car and driving off, as you mumble something and do the same while fastening your seatbelt. Marcus follows suit after sighing before leaving.

The fatigue of the day is starting to set in despite the fact that you were so convinced that you wouldn't be able to rest that night. There isn't much traffic on the street and it doesn't take long for Marcus' car to park in front of your driveway.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, watching him out of the corner of your eye, unsure what to do. But you see him do the same and get out of the car. With a confused expression you walk around the car until you get in front of him. "You don't have to walk me"

He rolls his eyes grimacing, holding himself back from saying whatever he's thinking, before closing the car and almost blinding you with its lights. "Let's go"

So all you have to do is look for your keys as you walk those few steps to the door, but once in front of it he looks at you expectantly not hinting at leaving.

"What, you want to come in too?"

"(Y/N)"

"Marcus, you haven't spoken to me in hours"

"Can we talk about this inside?" he pleads and you put the key in the keyhole leaving the door open going to turn on the light.

You place the small backpack on your shoulder on the kitchen table as you feel the constant presence of Marcus behind you. You try to keep ignoring him, standing up on your toes to grab the box of tea you have in the cupboard just for Marcus as you're not really into it. But suddenly you feel his chest against your back, one of his hands gently resting on your waist to put you back down as the other picks up the box for you.

"Stop acting like a child" he whispers in your ear and your breath catches in your throat at the closeness, his scent, the touch.

"I don't understand" you clear your throat taking the box from his hands and stepping away to make the drink allowing you to catch your breath.

"It's hurting you isn't it?" he leans his back against the counter watching you move around your kitchen like he's done before as you don't answer making him scoffing. He'd noticed how you hadn't sat down for a second but had held back on the plane so as not to make things even worse. "(Y/N), I worry about you you know"

"Well sometimes you're a little over the top Marcus" you can't help but point this out, perhaps a little too harshly as you slam a cup down on the marble.

"What am I supposed to do? Tell me how I'm supposed to act when you'd risk your life just to prove to those guys that you're worth something"

"You're overreacting Marcus. There are different ways to handle things, you have no right to embarrass me in front of everyone like that. We're acting like..."

"Like what?"

"Like you're my boyfriend. Like we're a couple. And you confuse me every time with such damn mixed signals" you sigh, calming your tone as he looks at you with a newfound confidence.

"What if I want it? What if I want to be more than just your friend?"

"Well that's not how you show it"

"I can't help it" he sighs as he moves closer, erasing that small distance between you, "Sharing this with you is... I can't describe it in words, it's why I wake up in the morning" embarrassed you lower your gaze to the pattern on his shirt, "But you're good, too damn good, and that means everyone is trying to stop you. And it scares me because I wouldn't want anything to happen to you"

"Then you keep pushing... so call me a pain in the ass or exaggerated or whatever, but just know that I'm not going to stop worrying about you"

"You think I don't worry about you Marcus? That I don't feel out of breath when I see a pained expression on your face?" you go back to looking at him despite the fact that you literally feel yourself on fire, "but my concern goes into taking care of you, into being close to you, into-"

"Can I kiss you?" Marcus interrupts your monologue causing you to gasp, your gaze wavering from his eyes to his lips and back again.

"Geez Marcus you always have to ask for permission!" you roll your eyes in a vain attempt to hide your surprise and nervousness as he chuckles shaking his head before slowly approaching you. For a second he seems to hesitate but eventually his lips are on yours.

The kiss is slow, both of you taking time to savour the moment and keep the turmoil of emotions within you at bay. You feel Marcus' thumb caressing your cheek slowly, your arms around his neck as your side pulls slightly.

Marcus leaves you another small peck as you pull away, your lips parting in a smile. He sighs resting his forehead against yours, you closing your eyes for a moment.

"That doesn't change anything, you have no right to tell me what to do anyway"

"Just a little advice?"

"I can't assure you I'd even consider it" he chuckles, leaving another kiss on your lips before caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

You barely hold back a yawn as you pull away to finish making the tea, he looks at you softly pulling you to him. "Let's go to sleep, it's late"

"But I didn't make you tea" you try to argue back but he shakes his head leading you towards your room. "It's not a problem, come on"

Marcus waits patiently for you to come out of the bathroom, lying on your big bed and following you with his eyes as you lie on your side next to him.

"Are you staying here?"

"If that's alright with you..." you shake your head, laying it then on the pillow and simply looking at him.

"Marcus?"

"Hm?"

"Can you get on the other side? I can't stay on my side" he laughs before circling the bed as you turn onto your other side.

"Better?" you nod as his eyes linger a little on the sore spot. "It's just a bruise, I swear"

"If it gets worse tomorrow, will you tell me?"

"Yes Marcus, yes" you sigh as he slides towards you moving a little closer.

"Because I could take your mind off the pain if you want"

"Oh yeah? How?! Can I have a little taste?"

"Mh I think so" he smiles before bringing his lips close to yours again.

Part 3

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Ocean Eyes - Part 12

A/N - Finally an update!! i promise to not leave it as long for the next part.

Please like/comment/reblog, it gives me incentive to write quicker if i know people are actually enjoying my madness 💕

"You okay?" Chris asked suddenly making me jump, i thought he was asleep! He was currently wrapped around me acting as the big spoon.

"Jesus christ! You scared the crap outta me!" I chuckled quietly feeling stupid that he made me jump so bad.

"Sorry dahlin" he chuckled close to my ear "but are you okay?".

"Yeah just can't sleep, I've got so much going through my head i can't switch off"

"Its not because you're in here with me is it?"

"No of course not, this is actually just what i needed. I've missed laying in your arms...." I had caved and agreed to stay in Chris's room tonight, no funny business just sleeping. I felt Chris smile before pressing a kiss to my neck.

"I've missed this too. So what exactly is it keeping you awake beautiful? Talk to me..."

"Honestly? The whole thing with Brian.... how did he find me here??".

"I have no idea, but its very creepy!.... then again we shouldn't really be surprised, he had a habit of always knowing where you were. I got bad vibes off that guy the second i saw him".

We had called the police to report Brian but they couldn't do much about it as he technically hadn't done anything wrong, they said to call them again if we saw him around anymore.

"I don't understand why he's doing this! Its not like i led him on or anything, I've never shown that man any interest. I barely even talk to the guy!"

"He's clearly unstable"

"It scares me Chris...."

"Hey, i won't let him hurt you.... i already warned him to stay away...." Chris said through gritted teeth.

"What?...."

"It doesn't matter...."

I turned in his arms so i was now facing him "yes it does, what do you mean you warned him to stay away?"

"The day Scott and I came to get you and Mason to bring you here, you remember how he kept going on about where you were going and when you were coming back....then he asked you to dinner?"

"Oh yeah, you kinda snapped"

"Yeah.....I told him nicely to stay away from my family, that you were unavailable and uninterested.... that he should move on. I said if i found out he was harassing you still id make his life hell" he looked a little sheepish as he confessed to what had been said between the two of them.

"Well I'm guessing he didn't like to be told to stay away huh?"

"Apparently not. But lets not worry about  him right now, you need to sleep"

"Ive been trying...."

"Come here" Chris said and rolled onto his back pulling me close until i was laying with my head on his chest, his hand stroking up and down my back. Back strokes were my weakness and he knew it! "You'll be asleep in no time" he mumbled pressing a kiss to the top of my head. And he was right, with the steady thumping of his heart and his fingers stroking my back i was a goner.

I woke up alone, the bed already cold meaning Chris had been gone for a while. I reached for my phone on the bedside cabinet, it was nearly 10am!! I quickly got up and headed to the bathroom to pee and check how bad i looked. Once i was done i headed downstairs to find Chris, Mason and Scott.

"Hey" Chris smiled at me as i entered the kitchen, he was sat at the dining room table in front of his laptop.

"Hey, why didn't you wake me up?"

"You looked too peaceful, besides you didn't get to sleep til late"

I nodded walking over to kiss him "thank you" i smiled running my hand over his bearded jaw "you're the best".

Chris pulled me down into his lap and deepened the kiss until i had to pull back enough to catch my breath and we both laughed.

"Where's Mason?"

"Walking Dodger with Scott, i gave him breakfast and helped him get dressed before they left"

"He wasn't any trouble was he?"

"Not at all. He's like the best behaved kid I've ever met"

"He has his moments don't be fooled" i chuckled thinking back to some tantrums id witnessed over the years.

"I don't believe you, that kid is an angel"

"You just wait and see Evans" i laughed before getting up and walking into the kitchen so i could get a coffee and some toast.

"So um, I've got to do an online interview tonight with Jimmy Fallon" Chris followed me into the kitchen.

"Okay" i nodded.

"I just thought id let you know i'll have to disappear for a while"

"Thats fine, Mason will probably be in bed by then and i'll just stay in the living room watching a movie with Scott"

"Now i feel left out" he pouted.

Later that day we all went outback and played some Wiffle Ball to pass the time, Chris and Scott getting competitive again.

"Mom I'm tired" Mason said wrapping his arms around my waist and cuddling up against me.

"You wanna go take a nap before dinner buddy?"

"Yeah"

"Come on then" i picked him up and he rested his head on my shoulder "guys Mason needs a nap, i think you've worn him out"

"I think i need a nap too!" Scott laughed.

"Well I'm gonna make a start on dinner, you have time for a nap if you wanna"

Walking back up to the house i started struggling with Mason, he was getting too big for me to carry around now! My baby was growing up too fast!

"You want me to take him?" Chris suddenly asked, i nodded and come to a stop before passing a sleeping Mason over to Chris.

"Thanks, he's getting heavy" i said sadly.

"No problem"

"I hate that he's getting too big for me to carry him when he's tired"

"I know but its okay, I'm here to help now"

"Who's gonna carry me? Im exhausted!" Scott added making us laugh quietly so we didn't wake Mason.

The evening flew by, we all had dinner then sat and watched Toy Story with Mason. When it came to bedtime Mason insisted that Chris read him a story and of course he couldn't say no. Once he was asleep Chris headed to his office to get ready for his interview while Scott and I headed to the living room to find a movie to watch.

"Sooooo....." Scott said dragging it out to sound scandalous as he wiggled his eyebrows at me.

"What?"

"What?.... don't you what me Missy! I know you spent the night with Chris! So come on spill the tea sister!"

"You're ridiculous you know that?" I rolled my eyes at him and laughed at how comical he looked right now.

"Like i care" he shrugged "come on! Tell me what happened"

"Sorry to disappoint but nothing happened we just slept"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, we're taking things slow"

"And who's decision was that?"

"We both said we don't wanna rush it"

"But you suggested it right?..... hey I'm not judging you for that" he quickly added when he saw me look away sadly.

"You're scared you're gonna get hurt again aren't you?"

"Wouldn't you be? I just wanna make sure we're gonna be okay, that its more than just sex. We were always good at that, the emotional stuff.... not so much"

We were halfway through the movie when Chris rushed in asking Scott to join him for a game that Jimmy Fallon wanted them to do.

"Really? I can't just leave Y/N on her own....."

"Go i'll be fine" i chuckled.

"Sorry dahlin, i hate leaving you on your own.... we wont be long though 15/20 minutes tops.

"Go do what you gotta do, I'm fine here watching this" i nodded to the TV.

While they were off doing the interview

I texted my mom and Hannah to check in, they were doing good all things considered. I quickly settled back in to watch the rest of the movie but was interrupted again by multiple message alerts on my phone. I looked to see it was Hannah blowing up my phone.

When i opened the thread i gasped, my heart was racing so fast.... i felt sick as my eyes landed on one thing in particular....... the headline!

"CHRIS EVANS HAS A SECRET FAMILY!"

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes @bellamy-barnes @buchanansebba @rosalynshields

Ocean eyes: @supraveng @michelehansel @melissaglenn5 @denisemarieangelina

@mrsjeffwittek @mery-be @marvelfansworld @cmalass @capstopavenger @fallenoutofrose @kelbabyblue @biebsmylife95 @loser-alert @traceyaudette @w3lissax @jennmurawski13 @ford66steal @saiyanprincessswanie @christocrave @jakiki94 @torntaltos @my-dearest-agent @ms-betsy-fangirl

If your name is crossed out i couldnt tag you.

[charliedawn]

Imagine you're another being with the "shinning" and hunted by Rose Hat and her gang. Part 1.(my version of Doctor Sleep. Warning : gore. Horror movie. Also, you're a bad a**. 😉😂)

Little Danny loved to explore the hotel, he liked to think that it was an adventure. This is why that when the door of room 374 mysteriously opened on its own, he found himself inside before he could think about the consequences of his action. He looked around, it didn't seem any different from any other room, besides the fact that there was a huge mirror in the center of it. He approaches it and, finding his reflection funny, started making weird faces in front of it. However, his reflection quickly distorted, showing a little girl who was crying instead. Danny was a very curious little boy, and like many little boys as curious as him, he wanted to investigate. He sat on the ground and stared at the girl that hadn't noticed him yet and couldn't help but find her pretty. When she raised her eyes, they immediately made contact with the ones of Danny that smiled sympathetically at her.

" Why are you crying?"

He asked and she sniffled.

" My sister..She's done some terrible things..But I don't know what to do.."

He stared at the mirror for a moment before raising his index to his ear and whispered.

" What should I do, Tony ? She seems scared.."

The little girl raises an eyebrow at his strange gesture, but didn't interrupt him as he replied in another voice.

" I think she needs a friend.."

The boy smiled and nodded vividly in agreement before turning towards the girl again.

" Tony says I should probably be your friend. My name is Danny. What's yours ?"

The girl laughed a little before replying.

" Y/N..Where are you right now ?"

You asked, looking around him with a small frown. He seemed to be in some sort hotel..But, something felt off.

" I'm with my mom and my dad. We came here for his job.."

But, Danny didn't seem too happy about it and you decided to step a little closer to the mirror.

" You see bad things too.."

You said knowingly and Danny nodded frantically.

" I see them too.."

His eyes widened at your confession and he quickly asked.

" Really ? What do you see ?"

You seemed to look around, making sure that no one could hear you before leaning in and whispering.

" My sister..She has someone else with her, someone bad and that tells her what she has to do. This morning, she killed our dog..This is why I'm sad. The more the bad lady stays, the more my sister seems to change..I'm afraid that she will do something awful to my parents.."

Danny listened and put his thumb in his mouth, the only this that seemed to calm him down when he was worried or upset about something. He was afraid that you would find his odd behavior strange, but you only smiled before putting a strand of your hair in your mouth: your own calming process. He slowly took his thumb out and shared his own struggles.

" My father wanted to come here..but the hotel is bad. There are very bad things happening around and I'm afraid that he is going to hurt us.."

In a way, you both understood each other's struggles..But before you could talk more about it, you heard the voice of your sister calling you and freezed. She entered the room and her eyes were immediately drawn to the mirror. She smiled maliciously before standing in front of the glass.

" And who might you be, huh ?"

She asked, but Danny was too scared to speak..He had seen the old woman standing above her and her face suddenly distorted at the realization. She grimaced in anger and screamed.

" Get out of my house !"

The force of the scream was such that it send Danny flying against a wall. The connection stopped and Danny was on the verge of crying when he suddenly heard a door creak. He slowly turned his head towards the bathroom and his eyes widened as he saw someone in the bathtub. He stood up and seemed to be drawn in by the bathroom. He wanted to get out, but couldn't help walking forward, the door closing behind him..

A few years later :

You are walking towards the nearby cinema, unaware that you are being followed. You step in the cinema and buy a ticket before sitting down in one of the comfortable chairs of the dark room. There are other people, a blond girl and a man in his forties. You don't have to wonder about their relationship as the man puts his hand on the girl's thigh. You grimace and try to take a better look at the girl that seemed awfully young..You sigh loudly before looking up at the screen. They had entered together..maybe you were reading too much into this ? However, when you hear the small noises of pain, you stand up, ready to take the girl's hand and run..But imagine your surprise when you see that the moans of pain were coming from the man. You stay speechless, but quickly sit back down, looking at the girl that is whispering things in his ear, things that make the man physically shake. You look around, wondering if anyone else had noticed. Nobody seems to notice what's unfolding, only two people that seem to fix the girl with envy and..something else. You shiver as the eyes of the woman seem to stare straight at you. However, you pretend being as oblivious as everyone else by stuffing yourself with popcorn, making her grimace in disgust and look away promptly. At the end of the movie, you nearly run out of the cinema and enter the bus quickly. You see the two persons following..the blond girl from the cinema. She seems scared and you take multiple shaky breaths before running out of the bus. You curse yourself as you run past the two creeps to take the arm of the girl and put on your best fake smile.

" Hi girl ! The movie was sooo good, don't you think ?!"

The blond one frowns in incomprehension, but quickly understands when you significantly tilt your head backwards. She nods and smiles even wider before playing the game.

" I know ! I'm so sorry to have left you, but I really thought my date would show up !"

You glance backwards and see that the two have disappeared..But you don't feel like leaving the girl alone and whisper.

" My house is a few blocks away..You can hide there for a bit, just to make sure the two weirdos are truly gone.."

She looks back as well and finally nods in agreement. You arrive and lock the door behind you. You then turn towards the blond that is looking around curiously. You smile and look through the window to observe the street.

" Do you have any friends or family around here that you can stay at for the night ?"

You ask and the girl looks at her shoes sheepishly and shakes her head.

" No..I'm alone."

You feel her uneasiness and gaze back at her with a small reassuring smile.

" Don't worry, you can stay the night if you want. But, as I'm supposed to leave tomorrow..I need to know if you have anywhere to go ? A shelter maybe ? Do you want me to call child services ?"

At the mention of the latter, the girl looks up at you with frightened eyes and shakes her head negatively.

" No ! You won't take me there ! You'll allow me to stay here !"

The way she says it almost sounds like an order and you can see that she is trying to use the same trick on you than she did with the older man..but it doesn't work and you only sigh loudly.

" Fine. As I said, you can stay the night. But, tomorrow, I will be going to New Hampshire, so you better find something until then."

She slowly nods and you then make a sign for her to follow you. You open the guest room and she enters. She sits on the bed and seems happy enough. You smile and are about to tell her goodnight when she surprises you by telling you her name:

" Andi. My name is Andi."

You just realize now that you hadn't even asked for her name..You smile and respond.

" I'm Y/N."

Then you close the door and go to your own room.

The next day :

You wake up and get ready before preparing your breakfast. You enter Andi's room, but only find a neatly made bed. You feel a bit sad at the fact that she didn't even say goodbye..but that quickly goes away when you see that you are missing 20 dollars.

" Son of a..!"

You curse and sigh again..Well, it could have been worse. You take your car keys and get inside your car. You start driving towards New Hampshire while following a map. You are supposed to have an interview for the local newspaper and also..You kinda want to get away from the city for a while, too many entities there. You only stop halfway to get your sandwiches out of your bag. You search for through your stuff, but suddenly feel something moving on the backseat. You freeze and your brain starts gathering all the possible explanations..A raccoon ? A spirit ?..You wait and finally, a familiar fair-haired head peeks out from underneath a blanket.

"...Hey."

She greets you with an awkward smile and a small wave of her hand. You can't believe that she 1) actually slept through more than half of the road and 2) that she followed you ! Your shock passed6, you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation and ask on an intransigent tone.

" Andi. What are you doing here ?"

She doesn't answer, she just looks ahead with widened eyes and you grit your teeths..Is she actually ignoring you right now ?! You are about to start yelling when she points towards the road ahead. You sigh, but still look and your eyes widen as well when you see who is driving the small van ahead of you..the guys who was following Andi yesterday ! He seems to be following a young boy now. Your blood boils in your veins at the prospect that they were now actually attacking small children.

" Andi. Seat belt."

You say warningly, your hand gripping the steering wheel with such intensity that your knuckles turn white. Andi doesn't wait for you to ask twice and quickly buckles her seat belt. You see that the boy is about to get inside the car and suddenly hit the gas. You had a feeling, a feeling that this boy would never see the light of day again if you didn't stop them. You drive straight ahead and collide with van full force, continuing advancing even afterwards. You make them drive backwards and you glare straight into the other driver's eyes. He seems shocked at first, but when he recognizes you, he smiles. You grit your teeths and yell while raising your middle finger.

" Yeah ! Keep smiling, a**h*le !"

The boy is far away now. He will be able to get back to his parents safely. Andi doesn't scream, but can feel the anger radiating from you. The van drives away as well, and the front of your car may be in a disastrous state, but you don't care. When you're calm enough, you lean back against your seat and look back at Andi, making sure that she is alright.

" Everything's fine ?"

She nods affirmatively before looking at you with concern written all over her features.

" I know that they are creeps but..Wasn't it a bit too much ?"

You close your eyes and remember the screams of agony of a little girl that you had heard a few months ago..You don't know why, but the screams had suddenly reappeared in your head as you had seen the two individuals following Andi yesterday, and even louder with this kid. It is now your alarm when bad thing are about to happen. You hear the screams of this girl that seemed in such pain when she died..You had ran to get to her, but by the time you had arrived, she had disappeared completely. This is another one of the reasons why you had decided to leave your old town. You take a big breath before driving forward.

" You have to trust me on this. They deserved it."

You say confidently and Andi doesn't add anything. She only looks out the window silently for the rest of the way. When you finally arrive, you stop in front of a weird-looking house with dark-tinted windows and a bright red door. You had already seen it of course, but Andi hadn't. She pouts when she sees it and whines.

"Is that really where you're going to live ?"

You ark an eyebrow at the pronoun she uses and cough loudly for her to turn her attention towards you.

" Where WE are going to live, you mean ? You really think I'm going to let you go with those people out there ? Not in a million years. You stay with me, Missy. That you like it or not.."

Her eyes widen, but she quickly smiles excitedly.

" You mean it ?! I promise that I won't steal money from you again ! And I'll even give your watch back !"

" Yeah yeah..Don't get used to it though, as soon as the creeps are definitely off our backs, I'm finding you someone else to take care of you..Wait, what do you mean by giving my watch back ?!"

She smiles awkwardly and you look at your naked wrist and roll your eyes before extending your hand.

" Come on. Give it."

She immediately gets it out and gives it back to you with an apologetic smile. You both get out, and she even helps you with the luggage.

" No more stealing. I'll have a job and I'm sure it'll pay enough for the both of us."

She doesn't answer right away, but you suddenly turn around and wait with your arms crossed expectantly. She finally rolls her eyes and replies with her gaze lowered to the floor.

" Yes, "mom"."

You gasp in fake offense at her insinuation and she looks up at you with a small smirk.

" That's it, young lady. Come on. Get inside and tomorrow, I'll be sure to walk around and see if any schools can accept you. There is no way I'm leaving a fifteen-year old roam the street."

She seems to disapprove and says on an authorative tone, crossing her arms as well.

" I'm not going. In fact, you'll forget ever asking me to do so.."

She tries to use her powers on you again, but you resist her and sigh before entering the house. You don't answer her and she frowns, upset. However, she still enters after you and is agreeably surprised by the interior that is a lot prettier than the outside. You smile at her awed expression, however, you aren't that pleased to be back in this house..

" Home sweet home.."

You still remember how you thought that the walls were full of secrets and that the seemed to be whispering in your ears..They had warned you of what would happen, but you were only a child..What could you have done ? Andi gets you out of your thoughts by groaning loudly.

" I'm hungry.."

You sigh, of course she is..

" Okay, the money you stole from my wallet ? It was supposed to be used for buying groceries once here."

She looks at her shoes almost guiltily before admitting.

" I was hungry this morning..I used it to by a box of donuts and a milkshake.."

You want to be mad..but you can't. You only take out your wallet and open the door. She quickly follows you and you start walking, searching for a shop. You soon find one at the corner of a nearby street and enter. You start looking around for decent prices while Andy starts piling up sugary sweets upon sugary sweet in the...You turn in the soups alley and Andi grimaces in disgust at nearly every single soup on the shelves. You finally take some, ignoring Andi's complaining. You see that the last tomato soup is on sale and are about to take it when another hand shots up to get it. You turn towards the owner of the hand and see an Indian man with a nice smile. He gives you the soup while apologizing.

" My bad, you spot it first."

You smile back politely and take it. You are about to turn around and go when the man introduces himself while extending your hand towards you.

" I'm Billy. Billy Freeman."

You finally shake his hand with a small smile and nod in acknowledgement before replying.

" I'm Y/N. And this girl here is Andi."

However, the man frowns in confusion before looking behind you.

" Hum..Andi ?"

You turn around and see that Andi is gone. You sigh loudly before groaning.

" This girl I swear.."

You then flash your best apology smile towards Billy.

" It was a pleasure, Billy. But, I need to go."

You start walking towards the cashier, but Billy follows you before adding.

" Wait. I'll search with you."

You are about to refuse, but finally nod in agreement. You need all the help you can get to find the girl, hoping that one of those creepy guys didn't get to her first..You shiver just as the thought and feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you start yelling.

" Andi ! Andi ! Where are you ?!"

Billy calls her as well, but you finally have to go through the cashier.

" Please, I lost my...sister. Her name is Andi. Can you call her ?"

The lady only nods before making the call. You stay here, biting your nails out of frustration. One minute, and Andi had disappeared. You don't want admit it, but you like the blond midget. You don't want anything to happen to her until you find her a family or help in any case..Suddenly, the woman smiles and tilts her head towards one of the aisles where two individuals had just gotten out of. One is Andi, munching grumpily on a handful of crisps while the other person, a man, drags her forward. You sigh in relief before running towards them.

" Thank God ! Andi ! I was worried !"

She only rolls her eye dramatically before continuing eating, but you can see that she feels guilty when she whispers.

" Yeah..Sorry.."

You look up to thank the man that had found her and freeze on thee spot when your eyes meet. Somehow, you have this feeling to have already seen him somewhere.. However, he doesn't seem to feel the same way as he only smiles before tilting his head towards Andi.

" You're the sister of the little demon ?"

He asks with a small smile and you nod with a slight smile as well. He extends his hand towards you and you shake it accordingly. However, the moment your hand is in his, you feel as if electricity is coursing through your entire body. He seems to feel it too this time as he immediately steps away with a small frown of incomprehension. However, before you could say anything, Billy appears and takes him by the shoulders in a friendly way.

" Hey, Danny ! I see that you've met the new members !"

Danny ? The name is as familiar as the face, but Danny only shakes his head with a shy smile.

" Yeah. Just found the girl and decided to do a good deed..But, I have to come back to work. I'll see you around."

You don't know who he is addressing those last words too, but you still reply.

" I hope so.."

He looks one last time at you before leaving and suddenly, memories flash in your brain that makes you scream in agony in front of everyone. Andi is by your side in and instant and tries to calm you down, but you feel a painful pang in your chest. You open your eyes wide and feel as if you can't breathe..You thought you had locked her up..But, one glance at Danny, and your old demon got out of his prison. You feel cold arms around your neck as she whispers in your ear.

" hello, sister.."

End of part 1! Tell me what you think!

[cheshiremadd]

Uprooting Bindweed

Ao3

I'd had the idea of Rena and Chat talking about Marinette and Adrien in my WIP folder, and then @galahadwilder posted the perfect prompt on discord to go with it: what if Chat Noir fired Rena Rouge.

Thank you SO much to @alexseanchai and @sweetmeatdale for your feedback! 💜

Speaking of Alex, they came up with the title, because they're amazing like that. Bindweeds are used as "food plants by the larvae of some Lepidoptera species, including the convolvulus hawk moth". With that information and the Bindweed tarot card, I knew a more perfect title would not be found.

-

The Akuma of the Week was searching for Marinette. The fourth time this month, and he was really hoping there was nothing to that. So many targeting the same person not Chloé or Lila seemed strange to him. But that was a worry for another time.

Chat Noir and Rena Rouge had been sent ahead to the bakery (he was very glad that he’d stashed Marinette somewhere else). Rena was to Mirage herself into the designer and play bait, but they had to wait until Ladybug could lure the akuma closer. Five minute timer, and all.

Rena reached her balcony first, and went to the trapdoor without hesitation. Chat figured he’d have to be the one to open it, and had been planning how to go about it without giving away how familiar he was, but Rena had no qualms. His stomach soured at the thought that he wasn’t the only superhero to visit Marinette.

She’d redecorated some since he last was in her room. He wasn’t able to come as often as he wanted, and they typically preferred the open air and view of her balcony when the weather was warm.

Adrien’s modeling photos were still present, but they’d been updated to more recent shoots. On another wall were more candid pictures. Their friends and classmates. People he assumed were Marinette’s family (only some of whom he’d met). Several of Kitty Section. Her and Jagged Stone and Penny Rolling (it still blew his mind that she’s on a first name basis with them). Lots of her and Alya and Nino. Fewer of Adrien.

He knew she had more of Chat than of Adrien. But she kept those on her phone, locked away in a secret folder. Too much chance that someone would see her walls.

One caught his eye, placed directly in the center, the spot of honor. A high res of Chat-him and Ladybug. They’d thrown their arms over each other’s shoulders and snapped half a dozen selfies. It’d been Ladybug’s idea to submit the best of them to the Ladyblog, giving civilian them plausible deniability.

The last wall, above her sewing supplies, held her inspiration boards. One for general inspiration, holding her favorite pieces from her favorite lines (only one of which was a Gabriel piece, he noted with some interest), some fabric squares of different colors and patterns, and scenic pictures from around Paris. The other, he knew, was more specific to whatever she was currently working on. Pinned to it was a handful of dried flowers, a fabric swatch to match each flower, and several sketches.

Chat glanced at Rena, realizing she’d been quiet this whole time. She was staring at Adrien’s modeling photos, the look on her face unreadable. He looked with her. He wondered if there was a specific shoot Marinette favored.

“This must look so strange to you.”

Chat looked back at her, but said nothing. He wasn’t sure what he could say that wouldn’t give away exactly how close he was to Marinette.

“I promise she’s not some weird stalker in love with a celebrity. Well. He is a celebrity and she does have the biggest crush on him.” Um. What? “But they’re actually friends. She didn’t even like him when she first met him. The—the Wall actually started because he wasn’t allowed to hang out very often, and no one could get any candids of him.”

What?!

His shock must have shown on his face. He turned back to ‘the Wall’ in an effort to hide at least some of it.

“You seriously didn’t know?” Rena said. “You’ve got to be, like, one of two people in Paris that doesn’t. I keep flopping on whether Adrien knows or not. One minute it’s like he’s encouraging her feelings, the next he’s going on about how glad he is to have such a good friend.”

Chat tried not to sputter. “How—how does ‘no candids’ turn into—” He gestured at the collage of Adriens.

“None of them were perfect.” Rena said it like she’d heard it a million times. “This photo shows his sincere eyes, but the rest of the face is photoshopped too much to be his real smile. ‘That advertisement had most of his real smile!’ ” She pitched her voice higher in mimicry. “ ‘But they shaved several centimeters off of his waist! Several! He’s skinny but he’s not that skinny can you believe they felt like they needed to change that, Rena?’ Well, she didn’t say Rena, she said my civilian name. I mean—you get it. And, oh, that outfit looks really good on him, it looks like something he’d choose to wear himself, but he looks so tired in that one. I bet that was at the end of that all-day shoot.”

(They didn’t actually shave inches off his waist. They did shave a little, but that wasn’t the point because—) He never realized that Marinette paid so much attention to him. He wanted to deny it. She’d specifically told him that she didn’t have a crush on him. And Marinette hates liars.

But. But she’d been embarrassed, that day. And she was embarrassed around him a lot. Especially when Alya was involved. It’d taken him a long time to notice that, but once he had, he saw it everywhere. And with this new piece of information…it shone a whole different light on many of their interactions.

Chat swallowed. He wasn’t sure what to do with this knowledge. He’d been in love with Ladybug for…for a long time. And Marinette. Marinette was special. Rejecting her was hard enough the first time, but at least he’d known that it’d never work between a superhero and a civilian.

Oh, Kwamis. She had a crush on Chat, too! Adding that event with this new understanding, he realized she never meant to confess to him. She’d probably been about to backtrack, but then her parents interrupted, and it was out of control from there.

What better evidence that someone truly liked you for who you were than falling for you twice and not realizing it?

Rena shuffled a bit, finding other things to poke her nose in, and Chat realized that he’d never responded.

“So, you don’t think it’s creepy that this girl has like twenty pictures of her crush on her walls?” He didn’t think it was creepy. He thought it was endearing. But he was curious what she would say. She’d been interestingly defensive of Marinette.

She snorted. “Hey, if it’s crazy, Adrien’s her same kind of crazy. He’s got more photos of Ladybug on his phone than I do, and that’s saying something.”

His brain came to a complete stop. And then worked overdrive. How the fuck did Rena Rouge know that.

She sighed, picked at her flute, and continued. “I’ve been wondering if she shouldn’t give him up, though. It’s starting to get unhealthy. Ruining her friendships in class.”

His chest tightened and it became hard to breath. Loving him was bad for her. The thought rattled around, but what she said next wiped it all away.

“There’s this girl in class, Lila. She’s an amazing person, done all these things, and has a real chance with Adrien. Marinette can’t let it go. She swore that Lila was lying, then dropped it and now just gives her the cold shoulder. Won’t go to group outings if Lila’s involved. Keeps flaking out. Avoids her completely. Lila’s trying, so hard, to keep the peace, mend bridges, and Marinette just refuses to listen.”

Rena dropped her hands, hitting her thighs, and paced. Agitated.

“It’s jealousy, pure and simple. And if she’s going to be like that, then I just don’t know if I can approve her being in a relationship. Especially with him.”

Chat felt something inside him harden. Gritted his teeth. Considered biting his tongue. He knew who this was. It’s plain as day now, and he’s mildly surprised he didn’t see it before. She’s supposed to be Marinette’s best. friend. And this was how she thought of her?

To be fair, Rena looked torn over this. Chat could see the hurt in her eyes, the worry in her bitten lower lip. The frustration in the creases of her brow. And she was telling all this to Chat, whom she only passingly knew.

But he couldn’t keep the distaste from his face. “Marinette’s right. Lila Rossi is a fucking liar. You think she’s got a real chance with Adrien Agreste? He wouldn’t touch her with my extendable baton. He only does photoshoots with her because clearly no one at Françoise Dupont knows what proper procedures for expulsion are, and that stunt Rossi pulled almost turned into Heroes Day 2.0.” He tugged down one of Adrien’s glamour shots. Marinette’s handwritten and detailed critiques ran along the edges. “From what it sounds like, Agreste would be lucky to date a girl like Marinette.”

Rena stared at Chat, stunned. “What do you know about Lila?”

He let out a short and hard laugh. “Enough. That little interview on the Ladyblog? I doubt there’s a true word in it. I mean, Ladybug’s best friend? I’m Ladybug’s best friend!”

Some of the tension released from her shoulders and she rolled her eyes. “Right. I forgot how jealous you can be, too.”

Chat growled at her. His ears flicked back, low on his head, and his tail whipped through the air agitatedly. “If you’re going to sit here and defend that manipulative bitch then you might as well take that miraculous off right now.”

Rena stepped back into a defensive stance. She was a decent fighter, but he was better. If she refused to give it over peaceably—

Something thumped on the roof. Ladybug. There was still an akuma, and that took priority. They needed to be where Ladybug expected them.

“Mirage, now.” His words were short and clipped. He pounced past her and opened up the window opposite of where the akuma would be coming from. “Follow the plan. We can talk about this later.”

The plan worked out like most of Ladybug’s plans do: perfectly. Chat’d tied the villain up in Marinette’s tarp-roof, presented with a string-of-lights bow and a flourished bow to his Lady to his Lady. She did her thing, tossed the spotted paperclip into the air, and Marinette’s balcony and room put themselves back together. The glamour shot even taped itself back on the wall.

Chat sent Ladybug a look. She gestured in a direction and he nodded. He was pretty sure he knew the roof she meant.

Rena passed by him with wariness, but he paid her no visible attention. She took off with Ladybug in the agreed direction while he turned to the akuma victim. He had a princess to protect.

“Here, let me get you down to street level,” he said. The deakumatized girl seemed hesitant to step into his arms, but relented after seeing no other way down. “Do you remember anything?”

Tears shone in her eyes for a moment, but she swiped at them and tried a smile. It didn’t work. “I—I think I’ll be okay. It’s stupid, I just…let my stress get the better of me.”

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off with a gasp. “Oh, no, Marinette! I didn’t do anything to hurt her, did I?”

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng is fine,” he hurried to reassure her, “but…do you remember why you were after her? Did she do something wrong?”

“No! No. Marinette is lovely; she’s always helping us out in the Garden Club!” The girl paused, ashamed. “I was just feeling overwhelmed and she always seems so put together, she juggles all these responsibilities…I was jealous. Like I said. Stupid.”

“Hey, hey, your feelings are not stupid. Everyone gets stressed and feels like they’re drowning at times. I bet if you asked Marinette about it, she’d say that she always feels like that.”

He remembered himself and what he had to do, and glanced upwards.

“I’m very sorry. I’d usually stay longer and make sure you’re really okay, but I have an urgent something.” He handed her one of the business cards he’d made up. It had information on a number of Akuma support groups. “I can be back in about 30 minutes if you want to wait?”

Her smile turned a little more real. She took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. “I think I’ll be okay,” she said again. “I’ll—that’s good advice. Talking to Marinette. Thank you, Chat Noir. For caring.”

He smiled and saluted her, then bounded off. His baton confirmed that Ladybug and Rena were still active a few rooftops over. But then he watched Rena’s signal go out and put on a burst of speed to get there in time. They weren’t on the roof, it turned out, but in the alleyway adjacent to the building.

Ladybug’s eyebrows raised in silent question when she saw him. “Sorry, Bug. This is something that needs to be done.”

Alya looked between the two. Suspicion bloomed and, with it, fear.

Pernicious cat gods, this was going to be awful.

“Alya Césaire.” Chat held his hand out. “The Miraculous. Please.”

She grasped it so hard her knuckles turned white. She took a big gulp of air and said shakily, “This feels final.”

He stared at one of his closest friends, and didn’t let himself waver.

“Your recklessness has put many in danger, including Ladybug and myself. You gave Lila Rossi a platform to speak, to spread her lies. You, who had held a miraculous before, and likely would again. Whom Ladybug had shown a partiality to in interviews and questions. You had every opportunity to check Rossi’s story.”

And, oh, he sounded exactly like his father. That grated.

“In giving her credibility, you opened several of your classmates up to her manipulations. Your best friend warned you about her lies, and you wrote it off as petty jealousy. You tried to write off what I told you as petty jealousy.”

He could kind of see how she’d come to that conclusion, assuming Marinette never told her about that cringe-worthy ice skating date and knowing that she was in love with him. (Alya said ‘crush’. Having this new option to attribute to Mari’s behavior, he knew it was more than that.)

“Furthermore, I can guarantee that at least one terrorist watches your blog. A civilian claimed to be a superhero’s best friend and you broadcast that to the world. What happens when said terrorist decides to use that?”

It was harsh, and damning. But it had to be said. She needed to understand.

Alya looked from him to Ladybug and back, then repeated the motion. “You—you can’t…” Alya’s voice broke. Her eyes settled on Ladybug, who appeared to have turned to stone, she held herself so rigidly. “He can’t do this. Right? You hand out the Miraculous; it’s your decision. Not his!”

Ladybug’s stormy eyes turned to ice. The Ladyblogger realized her mistake and opened her mouth to salvage something, anything, but Ladybug cut her off. “You, of all people, should know that Chat is my equal. He’s right. I should've…but I didn’t…” She shook her head, once. “I stand by his decisions.”

Chat released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Alya’s eyes grew bright with tears and she clutched the Fox Miraculous harder. She stared at them, and they stared at her, and she finally dropped it into Chat’s claws.

Ladybug’s hands fluttered in Alya’s direction. She pulled up short, though, unsure if her touch would be welcome.

“This doesn’t make you a bad person, Alya,” she said gently. “You’ve been lied to and manipulated. That’s not your fault. But, as a reporter, it’s important to consider the consequences of distributing information. Just as it is to produce evidence to back your stories.”

Alya’s hand pressed against her mouth, muffled a sob.

Ladybug hesitated, considering, and then spoke again. “You can still be a hero, Alya. Magic, the miraculous, it doesn’t make you into what you aren’t. You make you a hero. And, like I told Chloé, being a hero starts with your everyday life.”

Silence. The only sounds were the girl’s sniffling and the pounding of Chat’s heart. Even the sounds of the city muted. He had to force himself to stay still. Fidgeting felt disrespectful somehow. It was broken by Alya.

“So—so Lila was never your friend?” she asked thickly.

Ladybug’s voice was so gentle, yet cut through what the Ladyblogger had known like a knife. “No.”

Alya nodded. Wiped her eyes and tried to pull herself together. Her short gasps of breath betrayed how upset she was. “I. I think I’ve—” She swallowed. “Got some thinking to do.”

She turned to face the street, straightened her spine, and walked out. Her walk looked a little robotic to Chat, a little too forced to be her normal. She barely made it ten meters before Chat heard Nino call out to her.

Good, he thought, deflating a little. Nino will protect her.

His priority was his Lady.

“Well, it looks like you finally joined me in getting past the time limitation.” His attempt at lightening the mood fell flat even to him.

Ladybug didn’t respond at all. She took a big, shuddering breath.

“Oh, Bug…” Chat was quick to wrap his arms around her, and gently pull her head to rest on his shoulder. He coaxed her into a shuffle-walk until his back met the dirty alley wall, the heel of the hand that still held the Fox necklace rubbing up and down and across her back. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head back and forth; his claws tangled further in her hair. He tried not to listen to her quiet tears. He drowned out the sound of Nino and Alya moving on. The cars on the street. Instead he looked for the delicate and distinct sound of an akuma’s wings. She deserved a moment to mourn without worry.

Ladybug took a deep breath.

“You were right.” Her voice sounded wet. “Her blog affects many, and we were probably the only ones she was going to listen to.

“Actions…actions have to have consequences. Alya wasn’t seeing them, and—and maybe we shouldn’t be judge, jury, and executioner, but—the longer this goes on the worse they’ll become.”

Neither of them moved. He continued to find no evil bugs. Or feathers, but they usually went weeks in between Mayura sightings.

A gentle wind blew. They were having a round of good weather. Sunny days that were just warm enough to make the breeze feel perfect. He was hoping it’d hold through the weekend.

Ladybug pulled away to wipe her eyes. He fumbled a folded black handkerchief with green embroidery into her hands and she shot him a grateful, if watery, smile. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oh, that just warmed him down to his toes. And emboldened him to push a little more. “Hey, I was wondering, would you mind saying that bit about me being right again? Because I could listen to that all day—”

He internally cheered as his partner huffed out a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Careful, kitty. I can see your head getting bigger by the second.”

She returned fire!

Mission accomplished.

.

That meant it was time to go, he guessed.

.

Chat stood there a moment longer. Contemplative.

“What are you thinking about, minou?”

He turned to her with a small smile, trying to hold it back and mostly failing. She crinkled a smile in return and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m going to get me a girlfriend.”

He said it so resolutely, so surely, so smugly, that she couldn’t help but laugh. “You are, are you?”

He nodded. His smile spread to full blown glee. “If she’ll have me. Rena said something while we waited, and it just made me think. There’s this girl, LB, and fuck is she amazing. She’s been waiting for me for the better part of two years, and I just realized that I’m crushing on her. Hard. I don’t even know when it started.”

He sighed, happy. “I’m going to ask her out. Tomorrow. And pray to the kwamis that she gives me one last chance.”

(Adrien didn’t ask Marinette out the next day, because Alya looked awful and he figured she needed the support. He’d count himself lucky if she didn’t get akumatized over this, and would attribute the entirety of that luck to his princess. He did invite her to lunch the day after that—he’d thought it’d be more difficult than it was, but Alya was already leading Rose off to a quiet corner—where he managed a stuttered and stilted confession. He honestly had no idea how Marinette managed to understand it, but she must have because she gave an enthusiastic “Yes!” and the next thing he knew they were making plans to explore the city together on Saturday.)

-

It's the job of the Black Cat to recognize when something’s not working, and to get rid of it. Destruction is necessary for Creation to truly thrive. And, sometimes, that means destroying what Creation loves. But, sometimes, the thing Creation loves is the vine that's choking her.

(Or enables the vine that’s choking her.)

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 1 (Peter Parker x F!Oc)

Summary: Tony Stark has a daughter and he has no idea what to do.

A/N:  I am very excited that this story finally see the light! Hope you like it too

 -Val

Words: 2,915

Masterlist

Chapter 2

2008

An ordinary day for billionaire Tony Stark is interrupted by the doorbell of his huge house. With a glass of whiskey in his hand, he reaches the door, opens it ready to kick out who has interrupted his time alone. He frowns when he sees no one.

“J.A.R.V.I.S?" He asks towards his smart system.

"Mr. Stark?"

“How long has the doorbell been unused?" He says while closing the door.

"Hey!" says a high-pitched voice. Confused, he opens the door again. He looks down to find a girl of at least six years old: black hair, brown eyes, white and covered with freckles. Next to her there’s a blue suitcase.

"I don't want your cookies, who let you in?" He says with a frown, he's supposed to pay thousands of dollars to have security and privacy in his home.

“I don't have cookies,” replies the little girl. "And the man dressed as a policeman let me in,” She points back.

The man grimaces.

"Then what do you want?" The girl searches through the pockets of her jeans and takes out a piece of paper. She walks over and hands it to him.

"My mother told me to give this to the taxi man to bring me, then she told me to give it to the owner of the house," she explains.

Tony takes the paper and begins to read it.

"This must be a joke…”

***

"Tony, you should calm down" says Rhodey from the other side of the call.

"How do you want me to calm down?" He screams. "There's a damn girl in my house and I can't get her out!” He says as he walks to the living room, where the little girl is.

“Okay, this has happened to you before, buddy. Any woman can say that her child is yours. It's nothing they haven't tried before.”

Tony analyzes the words of his friend and relaxes. He’s right, it’s not the first time it happens.

"Yes, yes, okay" He wipes the sweat from his forehead.

"What does the note say? " Tony reopens the paper the girl had given him and reads the writing.

“This girl is the most precious thing to me. But I can't take care of her, she needs the best in life. That’s why she needs her father. Anthony Edward Stark is her father.”

"And that's it?" asks Rhodes.

“Yes. There’s usually a huge letter telling me where we met, when we had sex and how the child looks like me. But not this time,” He explains as he looks at the girl. She looks around her as she rocks her legs back and forth on the chair.

"It's quite strange, I won't lie to you…”

"Why do you think I panicked?"

"My mom’s prettier than this woman," says the little girl, drawing Tony's attention.

"It's her? Is she still there?" Rhodes asks.

"I'll call you later,” He hangs and walks up to the girl.

"And this one’s ugly too, why is she only wearing underwear?" Tony quickly takes away the Playboy magazine.

"Don't touch anything," He said, tossing the magazine away.

"Where will I sleep?" asks the little girl as she grabs her backpack.

"Not here,” answered Tony, but the girl ignored him. The man clears his throat. "Let's try it again. Where's your mom?"

"I don’t know. Surely with the man with pretty eyes,” she shrugged. Tony grunts in response.

His awkward conversation is interrupted by the doorbell. Tony runs to the door without letting Jarvis announce the visit. He returns together with a tall, red-haired woman.

Pepper Potts, his secretary.

"What is the emergency, Mr. Stark?" She rushed into the room and stopped when saw the girl.

"I think you can see it perfectly, Miss Potts,” answers Tony pointing to the girl. Pepper is speechless for a few seconds without understanding.

"Is it a relative?" She asks unsure.

"No, it isn’t," Tony growls. "I have a big problem and I need your help.”

"To what specifically, Sir?"

"Get information, find her mother and get rid of her,” he orders coldly.

“Tony," the redhead clears her throat. "Sir, I don't think it's appropriate to get rid of a girl.”

"If it were up to me, I would be, but I know that both you and Rhodey would give me the lecture of my life, that's why I didn’t do it, now do your job,” The man walks away while dialing his phone.

Pepper turns her eyes to the girl. She smiles sweetly at and sits next to her.

“Hello," she greets tenderly.

“You're pretty and you don't need to be in your underwear,” informs the little girl. Pepper starts to get worried.

"Do you usually see women in their underwear?"

The girl laughs.

“No, the magazine that was here has a lot of pictures of women,” The redhead sighs and makes a mental note to throw away all those magazines.

“Good," she makes herself comfortable on the couch. "My name is Pepper Potts, could you tell me yours?"

"It's a weird name,” says the girl making Pepper laugh. "I'm Lily, like the flower,” She smiles.

"Do you know your last name?" Lily shakes her head. "Why are you here?"

"My mother said that I should be with my father, she gave me money and put all my clothes in a suitcase and my backpack, she also gave me a letter and a note for the taxi driver.”

"A letter? Can I read it?"

"I'm sorry, but my mom said I should give it to my dad once I live with him,” the girl looks everywhere making sure the tall man is not there. She beckons for Pepper to come closer. The woman obeys. "Do you think the tall man is my father?”

They both look to where Tony is talking on the phone.

"I don't know, darling,” She answers. The little girl winces: She brings her lips together and moves them to one side.

Pepper has seen that expression before.

In Tony.

***

The hours passed. Pepper and Lily talked to find more information.

"And well?" Tony asks when Pepper gets up from the couch.

The woman puts her hands together and looks nervous at her boss. She takes him by the shoulder and forces him to walk away from the girl.

"Do you want me to tell you what I think or be more realistic?" Tony analyzes his options.

"Realistic.”

She sighs.

“We can’t be sure it’s your daughter, we must get a DNA test. And from what I could get, her mother practically abandoned her.”

“Do you really think the test is necessary? It's not the first time you've interviewed a child, Pepper,” says Tony, ignoring the last part.

"That has to do a bit with what I think, Sir.”

“Okay, spit it out.”

“You're right, it's not the first time this has happened to us, but I think there may be a possibility. The other children knew what they had to say: ‘Tony Stark is my father, I swear’…”

"But not her,” continues Tony tensing.

"But not her," Pepper repeats, nodding, "Lily only knows that she must find her father, she doesn't know who Tony Stark is."

"Lily?" He asks raising an eyebrow.

"That's what her name is.”

Tony nods looking at the ground “Like a flower” he mumbles, shaking his head. Pepper nods remembering the same words from the girl. He growls again and hides his face in his hands.

"Sir, I think it’s necessary that you let the girl stay."

Tony removes his hands and sees the woman.

"No way, I don't have time to raise a girl."

All hope in Pepper is gone. She would be lying if she said that she did not imagine the happy girl in the arms of her boss. A silly image.

“You’re right, sir. But I think that for one night she can stay here, tomorrow morning I’ll come and we’ll solve it for real.”

He nods.

Pepper regains her posture and walks back to the living room, where little Lily rubs her eyes wearily. The girl sees the woman and smiles.

"I must go, Lily, but I'll be back early tomorrow."

"Bye, Pepper…” She says.

Walking towards the door, Tony stops her.

"Why doesn't she stay at your house?"

Pepper grits her teeth. She knows she can't insult his boss if she wants to keep his job.

“I'm sorry, sir, but I have too much work to do. I don't have time to take care of her,” She says, emphasizing her last words.

She doesn't let Tony answer, she closes the door on his face. He grunts and walks into the kitchen, it's late. This whole thing has exhausted him. He opens the cabinets, takes out a plate, then takes out what he needs to make his dinner.

"You know how to cook?" the voice frightens him, he turns to meet the girl. She looks at him curiously. The man ignores the question and goes about his business.

A squeak sounds and Tony knows it's one of the chairs in front of the kitchen table being dragged. He snorts and turns as he leaves his dinner heating up.

He raises his eyebrows at the sight of the girl finally sitting with her arms resting on the table. She notices that the man is looking at her and raises her thin eyebrows imitating him.

Tony walks over and leans on the table.

“What's your name?" the girl asks.

"You came to my house and you don't even know my name?" He scoffs.

“I've been here for several hours and you still haven't introduced yourself? That's not polite,” Tony’s surprised at the answer. Smart girl, he thinks.

Some of the kids put together tech things to prove they were their kids, several pretended, not really caring about doing something clever.

This girl doesn't even go out of her way to prove something to him.

“I'm Tony.”

“I'm Lily.”

The girl makes a face. "It smells weird,” she complains, making the adult react, remembering his dinner.

***

During the night, Tony takes the time to analyze the letter and all that it would entail. One thing was true: the girl's appearance reminds him of a woman he once knew and can identify the photo of her in the letter. He doesn't remember her name or how he met her, but he doesn't think that matters now. True fear haunts him, but he refuses to admit it. He replaces it with another problem that haunts his head: He knows that the woman has no intention of coming back for the girl.

The only thing that his clouded mind could think of as a momentary solution was to send the girl to sleep in the guest room.

The girl did not reply, the journey had been long and she just wanted to sleep. She took her things and followed the strange man's lead. She barely touched the soft pillow when she fell asleep.

The next day, Tony is the first to get up. He walks through his house, somewhat groggy from last night, completely forgetting about the new inhabitant of the house.

He comes to the kitchen and begins his usual routine. While he prepares his breakfast, the girl wakes up, she looks around her, remembering everything. She sighs not knowing what else to do. Only until the smell of bacon distracts her does her stomach growl. She gets out of bed, puts on her shoes and walks following the scent.

She expects to see the owner of the huge house, but she frowns when she does not find him. The girl looks for him, but once again, the scent distracts her.

Everything in that kitchen was out of reach, she can only see that the stove is already off. She makes a face thinking that the man had only done something for him.

She sighs and starts looking everywhere for simple food within reach.

The doorbell rings and Tony rises from the couch, leaving his finished breakfast on the table. He walks to the door without even noticing the girl rummaging in his refrigerator.

"Colonel Rhodey Rhodes, sir," announces J.A.R.V.I.S.

Tony frowns, but the memories of him come like a whirlwind. He groans, he rests his forehead on the door. He sighs, sits up and opens it

"Rhodey your punctuality always saves lives, buddy,” says Tony putting a hand on his chest.

"I can't miss this," He enters.

Tony guides Rhodes into the guest room, but hearing noises in the kitchen, they change course.

Rhodey smiles at the sight of a girl on top of a high chair, reaching toward the open kitchen cabinets for a box of cereal.

“She's skilled," Rhodes whispers.

"Dangerous, you mean dangerous,” says Tony entering the kitchen. "What do you think you're doing?"

She hadn't heard the two men enter. Tony's voice takes her by surprise just when she had managed to grab the box of cereal. Her body falters and she loses her balance. The box slips, the chair wobbles, and the girl falls.

Lily complains rubbing her back, she also feels pain in her butt and itching in her arms as she falls into the now-shattered cereal.

Rhodes quickly runs towards her to help her, but stops right in front of her. He winces at the sight of her brushing off the cereal pieces with tears running down her soft cheeks.

"She's clumsy too," says Tony, leaning on the door frame.

"Shut your mouth, Tony,” Rhodey gets on his knees and she moves away as far as she can. "Easy, I won't hurt you,” That doesn't seem to convince her.

The girl bites her lower lip, she looks up at Tony, waiting for some sign. She may not have been with him long, but she has been here long enough to at least ask him if the new man is trustworthy.

Stark scowls at her, sighs, rolls his eyes understanding her concern and nods. Rhodes watches the interaction and raises an eyebrow. He at least knows that his friend hasn't done anything stupid.

"My name is James Rhodes, but you can call me Rhodey,” He smiles. "I'm a friend of Tony.”

"Only I can call you that," says Tony.

"One child at a time, please,” he scolds causing Lily to laugh. Rhodey takes it as a good sign. “Okay, let's let Tony clean the kitchen. Come, I can heal you.”

She nods and gets up. After a few steps, the girl complains of pain and Rhodes stops.

"Can I carry you?" She accepts, her pain was worse when she walks.

He picks up the girl, walks into the bathroom and sits her on the cabinet next to the sink.

"Why do I clean? She was the one who threw it all away!” shouts Tony from the kitchen. Rhodes rolls his eyes as he searches for the medicine cabinet.

"She was doing an excellent job, you scared her, so it's your fault," Rhodes replies bluntly.

He closes the bathroom door and prepares everything to heal the girl.

“What's your name?" Rhodes asks.

“Lily," She answers softly. "Like the flower.”

Rhodey can't help but smile.

"It's a pretty name.”

"Thank you.”

"Well, this will hurt a bit," He puts a liquid on a cotton ball.

“It's not true. It only burns for a few seconds,” explains Lily.

"Have you been cured before?"

“Yes, I get hurt very often. Mom says it's because I'm so restless,” She shrugs as Rhodey runs the cotton over her wounds.

"Have you gotten into trouble?"

"Sometimes, but I can't help it,” Rhodey smiles again remembering a certain person with that same ability. "My mom also uses that to for the burns," She informs. Rhodes raises his eyebrows.

"Burns? Where does that come from?" The girl shrugs.

“I don't know, sometimes she just touches my arm kills it quickly. She then heals me. She’s never told me why does that happen.”

***

"Do you like pancakes, Lily?" says Rhodes entering the kitchen, now clean. Lily walks beside him and smiles.

"Yes!" Tony grunts. He rests his arms on the counter.

"Pancakes for the lady.”

The girl sits in a high chair next to Tony. She watches him as she plays with her hands.

"Sorry about the cereal, Tony," She whispers.

"Yes, whatever," He answers and returns his gaze to his friend. Rhodes shakes his head at the answer.

Rhodey makes breakfast for the little girl, and when everything’s ready, the three of them gather in comfortable silence. Rhodes sits across from her while he drinks coffee.

Both adults couldn't take their eyes off the girl.

"Do I have something on my face?" Lily asks.

"When will your mom come for you?" Tony blurts out.

“Dunno,” She shrugs.

"Do you think she's coming for you?"

She shrugs again.

“Dunno."

"Is there something you do know?"

“You're a mean man,” She answers. Rhodes doesn't bother to hide his booming laugh.

Tony’s ready to reply, but before he can say anything, the bell rings again. J.A.R.V.I.S announces it, scaring the little girl. While Rhodes explains how it works, Tony greets her assistant and guides her into the kitchen.

"Hello, Pepper!” greets Lily with a smile, which is reciprocated by the redhead.

"Hi, did you sleep well?"

"As a baby, I never had such a soft mattress,” reports the girl.

"Can we get rid of her now?" Tony complains.

Taglist:

@stardusthigh​​

[tsumugisindulgence]

Stay for the Night

Since your first day in the Devildom you were disgusted by how often Mammon’s brothers picked on him. They are demons but to channel their hatred onto one person was not by nature, it was by choice and you were sick of it. “So shitty Mammon wouldn’t stay in his room when the newspaper came to interview me today. Ugh I mean how inconsiderate can you be? He is the absolute scum of all three realms. Like are you trying to purposely ruin my image? Not that he could, after all I am perfect but still how dare he!”  Asmo whines about Mammon’s presence in his own home. You knew you could use your pact to shut him up but the issue ran deeper. At that moment you decided to stand up to each brother the moment they dissed your first man. Asmo took a deep breath to blow his nails dry and you slapped him, leaving him surprised. “Oh dear I didn’t know you were into that. Do it again.” he winked. “Quit talking down about Mammon. I am sick of it.” he laughs. “It’s all in good fun dear, don’t worry he can’t even hear.” you stand up from the chair across from his. “Yeah well I can. And you should know something.” You enunciate each word carefully. “Talking trash about people that care about you makes you ugly.” You storm off leaving him flabbergasted. Only a few hours later you caught Levi doing the same thing while you were gaming with him. “And I was like you are more pathetic than a level one boss. Rotfl! He was upset but that newb was going through my limited edition directors cut TSL movie series. I don’t know how you can stand him. He’s worse than the antagonist in My brother is a piece of shit and I can’t wait to kick him out because he is the absolute worst.” For a moment you pondered if his anger was valid but it’s not wrong to look through people’s movies unless it’s Asmo’s sex tapes. “Levi I think it’s endearing that you’re an otaku but the one thing about you that absolutely disgusts me is how comfortably you insult Mammon without him doing anything actually bad.” You stomp out of his room and run into Mammon himself. “Whaha doin human?” For awhile now you’ve had feeling for Mammon that were developing past friendship. It was a challenge to portray this without him being a tsundere. “Hey Mammo chan. I had to leave Levi’s room he was pissing me off.” He squinted his eyes at the door a few meters behind you. “What did he do to ya?” you could tell he was getting aggravated thinking about Levi upsetting you. To calm him down you place your hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay now that you’re here. I wanna talk to you though.” he begins wringing his hands nervously. “Wha-what did I do this time?” You beckon him to follow you and he does reluctantly until you’re outside his room. “Don’t worry I’m not mad at you. Can we talk in your room though?” he places his hand on the knob and opens the door for you. “Phew. That was a close one. Not that I was scared!” you plop down on his couch and he sits across from you. “Levi said you were looking through his TSL movie series. What’s that about?” Once again he gets nervous and starts waving his hands. “It wasn’t like I was trynna take it! I was just looking I swear! I don’t care about that stuff or whatever.” His reluctancy to look you in the eyes made you suspicious. “I think you do. You know if you want to rewatch it with just me this time you could’ve just told me and saved yourself the trouble.” He huffs and crosses his arms. “As if I’d admit that!” His eyes widen at his statement, realizing he inavertantly admitted it. You snicker. “H-hey what are you laughin at human?” Now was a perfect opportunity to spend time together without his brothers. At least you thought. “MAAAAMMMOOOON!” Lucifers voice booms through the door and probably the rest of the house. Mammon jumps ups and hides before the for is kicked open. “If you know where Mammon is I suggest you tell me this instant.” You roll your eyes. “What did he do this time?” “If you must know I had a vintage roast in the cabinet worth thousands of grimm.” He crosses his arms and stares at you. You mimic his stance. “I used it.” He looks at you with fury waiting for an apology or explanation. “Asmo showed me a diy face scrub recipe that called for rough ground coffee beans. I figure it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.” He raises his eyebrows and gives you a look. “Bold. This better not happen again otherwise I won’t forgive you so easily.” He turns around to leave Mammons room and you grab his cape. “I’m not done with you.” He scoffs and takes his cape back. “If you with to discuss this further I’ll be in my room.” He walks out and lets the door shut behind him. Mammon stands up. “Woah you totally stood up to him and didn’t even get threatened to be strung up in the hall.” You walk closer to him and grab  his hand. “I want to finish my conversation with Lucifer. I’ll be back when I’m done. Wait for me?” he blushes and looks away. “Alright not because you asked or anything human. I just don’t have anything better to do.” You laugh at his response and walk out. Thinking about how poorly Mammon is treated by his brothers makes you clench your fists. You were no match for a demon but you would be damned before you let this continue. “I can’t believe you all. You’ve lived with him for years and still haven’t learned to accept his sin.” you mumble walking down the hall and you stop when you hear Satan call your name. He sensed your wrath and decided to check on you out of curiosity. “Is something wrong? It look like you’ve just left Mammons room. What did he do this time?” Your body reacted before you could use reason. Your hand struck his cheek, it didn’t hurt him much at all. You meet his surprised yet inquisitive gaze. “You are all so awful to him! Imagine if I treated you the way you all treat Mammon! He didn’t do anything! Lucifer pissed me off when he accused Mammon of stealing something.” He adjusts his stance. “I understand being upset with Lucifer, but why does it bother you that Mammon was accused. He probably stole it anyway, he’s the most plausible suspect.” You clench your fists even tighter. Through gritted teeth you hiss. “I took it. You bastards always blame him and I’m sick of it.” You walk past him and stomp down to the eldest brothers room. He look up from his desk as you walk in. “I have a bone to pick with you.” You sit in the chair across his desk. “I am sick of you always blaming Mammon. You guys do anything you possible can to beat him up. You degrade him because of his sin. That’s something he can’t completely control. I am aware he could handle his urges better but I doubt you have ever tried to help him in a manor that he would understand. Instead you freeze his card and call him a piece of shit whenever he gives into an urge. Ever stop to think you’re the shitty one for treating him that way. I know your sin is pride, therefore you have this massive ego. Nobody ever criticizes you for being a pompous ass at times. I haven’t even been here for an entire year and I see how you all go out of your way to make sure he feels like shit. I think Beel is the most respectful to Mammon and he still puts Mammon down occasionally.” you continue your rant for a few minutes and take a deep breath once you feel like you’ve gotten everything off your chest. He sits back in his chair slightly surprised about your perspective and how brave you were to scold him. “I see. That’s quite a new view. You haven’t had to deal with him as long as we have. I’m sure you would do the same if you spent a millennia putting up with him. It’s admirable that you have the courage to stand up to me like this. If it is that big of an issue I will possibly consider changing my actions. Doubtful but possible.” You storm out of his room furious that you couldn’t get through to him. On your way down the hall you see Mammon peeping at you from around the corner. When you lock eyes he looks away. Your heart hurts for him. He’s a good demon and you wish he was loved by his brothers. “Mammon what are you doing?” He sheepishly steps out from behind the corner. “You were in there awhile. I figured I should check on ya since I’m in charge of your safety n stuff.” You smile knowing that’s his way of saying he’s worried about you. An overwhelming desire to make him feel loved hits your chest. You’ve had a crush on him for awhile now but he was no resistant to reciprocating affection. Probably because his brothers made him feel like he’s undeserving. That night you sit on your bed flipping through one of the many magazines Asmo gave you with your earphones in.  A message on your phone interrupts the music. Mammo Chan- Where are ya?You- In my room. in under a minute he walks through your door in his pjs. A white tank top and black drawstring pants. You look up and take your earbuds out. He rarely shows this much of his body outside his demon form, which you also rarely see. He has such a nice figure and beautiful skin. To you everything about him was attractive but he was sculpted by god after all. He walks over to your bed and tells you to scooch. “What’re we watchin tonight?” you toss the magazine aside and pick up the remote, happy to spend time with him. “Do you guys have access to human television?” He thinks about it for a second before answering. “I think Levi knows how to connect it. Why ya askin?” “There are a few shows I think you would enjoy. I’ll text him and ask how to do it.” After figuring out how to connect to human television you pull up Pawn Stars. You could tell by his expression he was hooked instantly. He was sitting criss cross on your right leaning forward towards the tv. It’s beginning to drop in temperature as the nights in the Devildom were extremely cold to you. You leave the bed and head over to your dresser. Mammon looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. “Where are ya goin?” He was afraid you were going to leave even though it was your room. You pat his head to ease his worries. “I’m getting cold so I was gonna grab a hoodie.” He sits up straight. “No worries the great Mammon will warm you up. C’mere human.” He beckons you towards him. As you move he pulls back the blanket for your bed and lets you climb in then sits at the edge of your bed. You were hoping he meant cuddle but it was silly of you, he wouldn’t make the first move. So you would have to. You sit up and tug on his pant leg. “Can we cuddle?” His cheeks heat up and he looks anywhere but your eyes. “Yeah sure but only to warm ya up.” The way he stiffly laid next to you made you wonder if he has ever actually cuddled someone or if it was just you. “Can you move like this?” you position his body into the little spoon position and he goes quiet. After all his yeas alive he’s never been in a situation like this, he’s laid with succubi after sex but he was the big spoon and always woke up alone. It hurt to imagine falling asleep with you only to wake up alone. He didn’t want to think about it but he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but your body embracing his from behind, your breath on his neck and your fingers drawing random patterns on his arm. He really liked you and didn’t want to screw anything up like he usually does. He began to worry if this was a prank set up by his brothers. You noticed his body was still tense after a few minutes. “Are you okay? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He sits up and laughs nervously. “Alright which one of my brothers set you up to this? Asmo?” You frowned that he thought you didn’t genuinely care about him. You sit up and move closer to him and look him in the eyes. “Mammon, I  know I only met you a few months ago but I like you.” He puts on his bravado attitude. “Of course you would! Any human is amazed by the great Mammon” You wanted him to take this seriously but you also knew he built walls of false confidence in hopes of making himself feel like more than what his brothers call him. “No Mammon. I like you as in I want to kiss you, go on dates with you, cuddle with you, support your goals. I want to show you that you are so much more than what you think. You’re caring, thoughtful, hardworking, obedient, helpful and so much more.” His eyes tear up behind his glasses. “You don’t mean that. You’re just messing with me aren’t ya?” Frustrated that your words aren’t getting through you take action instead. You push him down on the bed, prop yourself up over him and kiss him. He freezes for a second before kissing back. You’d be embarrassed to admit how many times you’ve thought about doing this with him. His hand moves to your lower back and pulls you onto his body. Now that you aren’t using your hands to steady yourself you run your fingers through his hair. He is insanely good at kissing you. You pull away breathless. His face is no longer fearful but at peace. He’s the first to look away. “I didn’t know ya meant it. Heh why me. I’m the worst of all my brothers.” You cup his cheek and make him look at you again. “You’re my number one man. I wouldn’t want anyone but you. I like you, flaws and all.” His face melts as if this is the first time anyone has ever said that, and it might be. He pulls you into a hug so tight you couldn’t move. He placed his face in the crook of your neck. You feel something hot and wet fall onto your skin and it registers. He’s crying. You lay there on top of him only when he releases you do you notice he’s in his demon form. The awe in your eyes cued him. “Oh um I didn’t mean to. Gimme a sec.” Your arm shoots out to him. “NO!” He whips his head around. “I mean I never get to see you like this. Can you stay like this a bit longer?” “Y-yeah.” He sits there embarrassed as you eye him over. Once you’re satisfied you tell him. “Why’d you turn?”  His usual bravado is gone. “It’s not like you were making my sin act up. I just wanted to.” You interpreted what he was saying, ‘I got greedy kissing you and slipped into my demon form.’ You giggle “Cute.” he switches back. “Hey! I’m not cute! I’m a terrifying demon!” “My terrifying demon.” You smile  at him and he stares at you in awe before his bravado comes back. “Prof course! I’m your first and most powerful!” You remember that the tv is still on. “Oops looks like we missed the rest of the episode.” “NOOOO!” he dives over to the tv repeatedly pressing the backwards button but it does nothing since it’s on a channel. You stand up and walk over to him. He’s on his knees hugging the tv. You tussle his hair and turn to get a sweater now that you’re out of bed. While you’re at your dresser you decide to change into pjs. You figure Mammon is still preoccupied with the tv that he won’t see you. You were wrong. Just after you take off your jeans he turns and begins to ask you a question before letting out a yelp upon seeing your underwear. His hands quickly cover his eyes and he turns away. Now he certainly isn’t looking. After changing you pull his hands off his eyes. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you warn me you were changing?” You shrug. “I figured you were distracted. It’s not a big deal I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of ass in your life.” “Well I mean yeah but you’re my human not a succubus or angel. You’re different.” You smile at his unintended compliment. You crawl into bed under the covers and snuggle in. “Mammo-Chan will you turn off the tv and lights if you head back to your room.” “Whaddya mean if?” “You can stay here tonight.” “Where am I s’possed to sleep huh?” You pull the cover back a little and pat the bed space next to you. “Oh well I guess I should so I keep ya warm.” He starts to walk over. “Turn off everything before you come to bed.” “Oh yea.” He does as you say before climbing into bed with you. You fall asleep on his side with your arm over his chest. 

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Stranger

I Know You

Summary - After that evening, the freckled face of that man was engraved in your memory. You hoped that you would meet him again and you do but not all meetings are pleasant - some reveal the dark secrets of life.

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning - Fluff, Angst (a lot of angst), swearing, 18+ SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people)

Square filled - Showering together (implied) ( @spndeanbingo )

Word Count - 2.5k

A/N - This is the second part of the series Stranger (my brain hates oneshots). Prepare for the slow burn people.

The dividers are by @talesmaniac89 and the banner is by me.

A/N - This is the first time I have ever written smut. I have tried my best lol. Also thanks to @bucky--barnes because her fic Innuendos helped me a lot to write the smut part. There are certain parts in the smut that irked me a little while writing so I decided not to include those but maybe in the future I can write about those (I'm very new to this whole thing).

Okay enough of nervous rambling, just go ahead and read it!

“This is the last time I'm warning you! Step away from the cake,” you yelled making your husband jump and drop the piece of the cake, “what did you do?”

“You shoufn’t haf yellt,” he spoke with his mouth full.

“Get. Out. Now,” you seethed as you examined the destroyed piece.

“I like it when you get all bossy,” he goes to grab your waist but you successfully dodge his hands. “Y/N,” he pouted.

“Those eyes won't work on me Mister,” you raised your eyebrow, “and I need to clean up the kitchen because your dumbass acted like a child.”

“I didn't.” He grumbled.

“Leave the kitchen now. Go check on your demon spawn,” you said.

“Hey, he's half yours.” He argued.

“He got all your bad qualities,” you smirked. Dean stared up at you with his green eyes and said, “maybe our baby girl will get your bad qualities,” he caressed your still flat stomach.

“How do you know it's a girl?”

“Father's instinct,” he said.

“That's called mother instinct-”

“So fathers can't have instinct?” He grinned.

“That's not what I meant, you fool,” you said.

“Uh-huh,” he smirked, “So you think-”

“Mommy, Daddy,” Jaxon, your three year old came running into the kitchen with Scooby hot on his heels.

“What's up kiddo?” Dean turned and picked up the little boy in his arms. Scooby whined and nuzzled his face into Dean's legs, trying to get his attention. “You're not forgotten, buddy,” he started to pet the German Shepherd.

“Cake,” Jaxcon said and hid his face in the crook of his father's neck.

“Bad qualities,” you threw a look at him and saw him shrugging.

“We have to wait for Grandma and Grandpa to arrive sweetie, then you can eat it,” you said.

“Okay,” he pouted.

“Come on Y/N, give him one piece,” Dean said.

“Don't encourage our son. If he gets a sugar rush, you have to deal with him,” you shook your head at your husband.

“Scout’s honour,” he grinned, as you cut up a piece of the cake.

Dean put the little boy down into a chair, when he started wriggling in his arms. Jaxcon immediately dug into the sugar factory as soon as you handed him the plate. You walked out of the room to check on the other preparations, as Dean kept a close eye on the boy, his hands occasionally petting the dog and scratching his ears.

Life was good. After that night at the bar, you had met Dean again. You were having a bad day - you had just handed the resignation letter to your pervert boss and walked out of your office, when you had bumped into him on the streets.

“I feel like you are my guardian angel who just pops up whenever I have a bad day,” you had laughed.

“Maybe it's a sign from the universe for us to be together,” he had said, a big grin plastered on his face, “let me take you out on a dinner. You won't have another bad day.”

You had agreed and one thing led to another and here you were now married to him with a child and another one on the way, organising a family gathering to celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of your parents.

“Hey babe, I think your parents are here,” Dean called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah got it,” you shouted back.

“Hey Mom, Dad, happy anniversary,” you greeted as you opened the door.

“Thanks sweetie,” your Dad leaned into giving a peck on your cheek.

“Mr and Mrs. L/N,” Dean greeted, “thirty years huh? Happy Anniversary. Come on in. Your daughter has made some delicious food items.”

“Dean,” you chided but couldn't stop the smile that was threatening to spread over your face.

“Soon you will be celebrating your thirtieth anniversary. Time flies when you are with the right person,” your Dad said and you knew your Dad was right.

So yeah, life was good.

“It looks like a freaking djinn,” Dean said, clutching the steering wheel tightly as he drove back to your town. He gritted his teeth in anticipation, as he focused on the road ahead.

“Dean you need to slow down or else we'll be dead even before we reach the town,” Sam frowned, “maybe it's a Djinn, but I am sure that Y/N/N’s absolutely safe.”

The older hunter's jaw ticked as he tried to put a brake on his racing thoughts - why did he always have to think of the worst?

After another hour of driving, Dean pulled up his car in front of a house. Jumping out of it, he jogged up the stairs and knocked on the door waiting for a reply.

“Dean stop! Maybe she is at work,” Sam intervened before his brother kicked down the door.

“No. She is in a huge ass danger. I can feel it Sammy,” Dean said, gripping his brother's shoulder tightly.

“You need to focus, Dean. I don't think you freaking out will help us at all. We need to treat this as any other case,” Sam said, “maybe Y/N’s safe after all.”

Nodding his head, Dean went back to his car, Sam following closely. They drove over to the nearest motel. Within a few minutes, they had switched to their fed suits and started going over the case and the alibi of the witness.

“Man with tattoos appeared out of nowhere. Bingo!” Dean exclaimed, “I told it seemed like a case of the tattooed suckers.”

The Winchesters started working rapidly - from interviewing the witness to finding out the locations of abandoned warehouses and buildings in the town.

“Uh….Dean. I think this might be the location where the Djinn is tak-”

Sam’s words were interrupted by the shrill ringtone of Dean’s phone.

“Agent Shaw speaking,” Dean said, “another missing report?....Name?” Sam saw his brother's eyes widened with fear and anger, as he continued to speak with the person over the phone.

“Thanks for letting us know,” He said and disconnected the call.

“There has been another report filed, another person has gone missing. Her name is Y/N L/N,” Dean breathed out, “I am gonna kill every one of those sons of bitches.”

“Mhm,” you groaned, as you were woken up from your deep slumber to your husband peppering kisses all over your face.

You opened your eyes to see him staring at you with his forest green ones. Pulling you close, he captured your lips in a sensual kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his teeth slightly grazed your lip. Without letting go of your lips, his hands started to work on the buttons of the flannel which actually belonged to Dean, unbuttoning it successfully and you laid there in just your panties.

“De-” you whimpered as he started to leave a trail of kisses down your bare body. His calloused hands massaged your breasts, his sinful mouth started to suck at the sweet spot on your neck, eliciting a sweet moan from your mouth.

“That's gonna leave a mark. Gonna let the world know you're mine,” he growled into your ears, his voice making you shiver with anticipation. As his fingers worked on your already hardened nipples, his mouth slowly moved south.

Spreading your legs apart, you felt his hot breath at your clothed, wet core. “N-need you,” you breathed as you felt him starting to kiss your inner thighs.

“Mhm, so fucking wet already,” he mumbled, as he swiftly ripped off your damp panties.

“Dean, p-please,” you whined.

“Please what?” He gave you a cocky grin, his fingers brushing past your sensitive clit.

“Either fuck me or put your magic fingers to use,” you pouted which immediately turned into a gasp as he put a finger inside you. He started to pump at a slow pace. Your back arched in ecstasy as he picked up the pace. He put another finger, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the bedsheet tightly. He curled his fingers inside you and kept pumping at a quick pace, brushing your g-spot over and over again.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, as your hand left the bedsheet, to tug at Dean’s hair, entangling your fingers with the short, soft strands, making him groan.

“De, g-gonna c-co-” you whimpered.

“Then let it go, sweetheart,” he rasped and that's all it took as your body shook with pleasure, you came hard on his fingers. Dean moved up to you as you panted, your mind and body in a euphoric state. He pecked your lips lightly as you tugged at his boxer’s band but he lightly swatted your hands away, “so impatient.” You noticed the sizable bulge in his boxers. He grunted, throwing his head back in pleasure as you palmed his cock through the soft material of his boxers.

He pulled down his boxers, his hardened length sprung free. You took his cock in your hand, giving it a few strokes.

“Nuh-uh,” he groaned pushing your hands away. “I won't last long i-if you do that a-and I wanna be inside you.” You let go of him, giving into his plea.

He kissed you once again as he lined himself in front of your entrance. “Fuck,” you gasped, your eyes fluttering close as he pushed himself inside you.

“Shit sweetheart,” he groaned, “not gonna last long.”

“Mhm,” you moaned, failing to form any coherent sentence, “m-move.” Dean obliged, slowly pulling out of you till only his tip was inside you. He kept thrusting into you, “s-shit, baby.” You jerked your hip forward, trying to meet his pace. He quickened his pace as he roughly kissed you. He continued to ram into you, his cock brushing your g-spot every time, making you moan out loud. His hands travelled all over your body. He let out a breathy moan as the coil in your stomach tightened.

“Gonna c-come,” you whimpered, your pussy clenching around him.

“Let go baby,” his thrusts became a little sloppy, as Dean inched towards his climax. Your hands gripped tightly onto his biceps, as his fingers entangled with your hair.

“Fuck Dean!” You cried out as the coil inside you snapped and you felt yourself coming undone, “fuck!”

Dean thrusted into you a few more times before he let out a guttural moan, his seed spilling inside you, coating your walls. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, his face hiding in the crook of your neck as he collapsed on top of you. Panting, Dean pulled out of you, as he rolled to the other side of the bed. You both laid in bed, as you pulled the covers up to cover your modesty.

“Morning,” you smiled.

“Morning,” he whispered, pecking your cheeks, “I'm gonna go and get a shower. Join me.”

“No funny business. You have work and you are already running late,” you warned, “and the kiddos are up.”

“Scouts honour,” he said as he walked into the bathroom in all his naked glory. You removed the covers and climbed out of the bed to go to the bathroom.

“Y/N,” you stopped in your tracks as you heard a voice calling your name.

“Dean? Did you call me?”

“Nope.” Your husband replied from the bathroom. You shrugged off the feeling and went into the bathroom, joining your husband. Needless to say, you guys didn't make it out of the bathroom in time.

“We already have a ten months old and a five year old. Don't you think you should tame your libido?” You said, while feeding your daughter.

“I can't keep it in my pants with you walking around me,” Dean said, “sooner or later, I will put another baby in you.”

“Daddy!” Jaxcon exclaimed as Dean leaned in to kiss you.

“What?” He groaned making you chuckle.

“I will be late for school! Hurry!” The son urged.

“Who gets so excited for school? He is a nerd like you!” Dean said and walked over to his son not before he had kissed you. “Take one to know one. Go or your boss will kick you out!”

Ava, your ten months old, babbled as she waved at her father. “Oh look, your baby girl says bye,” you said, catching your husband's attention.

“Bye Ava,” Dean waved back as he followed your son out of the door. This was your daily morning routine.

“Y/N, sweetheart, wake up,” you heard the voice again but no one was in the house anymore except your daughter who could hardly form complete words.

“Who is it?” You called out in the empty house.

“Y/N, sweetheart wake up,” Dean said to your unconscious figure lying on the ground. Exhausted, injured, Dean desperately tried to wake you up. Tears pricked at his eyes, as guilt ridden thoughts made their way into his mind. Two lifeless bodies of the djinns laid on the ground beside you.

“Sammy, she's not waking up,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Let's take her back to the bunker. I already gave her the antidote. If she doesn't wake up, maybe we can look through the archives of the British Men Of Letters,” Sam grunted as he stood up. They both were beaten up but none of them suffered any life threatening injuries. Dean picked you up in bridal style, as he made his way towards his car. Sam joined you and Dean after he was done burning the bodies.

The drive back to the bunker was tense. Sam was in the driver's seat as Dean was in the backseat with your head resting peacefully in his lap. He caressed your face, removing a few loose strands of hair, as he waited for you to wake up with bated breath.

“What if the antidote doesn't work?” Dean asked, worry evident on his face.

“You remember what happened with Charlie?” Sam asked, “we have to use African Dream Root to wake her up. We have to invade her dreams.”

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!

Feedback is highly appreciated!

[supernaturalfreewill]

Words: 5,233 Sam x Reader Warnings: none! Summary: Y/N seems to have been the victim of a potion with unusual results. A/N: Based on this imagine!

Your name: submit What is this?

You and Sam were just there to question a witness. It should have been a routine visit, a routine interview. But Sam noticed that something was a bit strange almost as soon as the two of you entered the room. The witness had asked for a moment to finish dealing with a phone call on hold and had stepped out of the room.

You sighed and Sam watched you sweep a hand across the back of your neck and around to trail your fingers along your collarbone. “Is it just me or is it really warm in here?” you asked. Your tone was... odd. It was almost silky and smoky. Sam couldn’t really remember having heard your voice that way before.

Before he could respond you slipped off your blazer and unbuttoned the top two buttons on your blouse, revealing a deep V of skin, and fanning your face with your hand.

He gave you a look but was a little concerned about looking too long. He opted to stare straight ahead toward the doorway the witness had disappeared through. Sam shifted his weight a little anxiously and cleared his throat. “Um... are you alright?”

“Sam--” you said suddenly, calling his eyes back to your face. “What kind of FBI agent has creases on their shirt and a crooked tie?” you asked. Your tone was, without a doubt, flirtatious. You stepped close in front of him and before he knew what was happening you were smoothing your hands over his chest and then gently straightening his tie. It was a surprisingly intimate action and you had never done something so forward before.

Sam was a little overwhelmed at the tingles left behind in the wake of your fingers, the electricity, the involuntary sensation of exhilaration, that he almost didn’t interrupt you. Part of him just wanted to kid himself that this was happening, but the change that had come over you was so abrupt that he couldn’t ignore it in good conscience. He cleared his throat again and gently grasped your hands carefully in his (suppressing another thrill at holding your hands in his) and separated them from his tie, giving you a tight smile. “I, uhh--I think it’ll be fine.” He was about to ask you again how you were feeling but just then the witness came back in, apologizing for the wait.

“It’s no problem,” Sam said, waving them off. Sam was about to ask the first question when you were quite suddenly strolling around the desk the witness had just sat behind and stopped very close to him, leaning back against the desk, angling your body toward his, your lips full and just slightly parted.

The witness seemed at once confused and awed by your closeness and clearly flirtatious body language. He also seemed to be at a loss for anything to say for a moment. You filled the space for him.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have just the sexiest, tousled, bedhead wave in your hair?” you asked him, again biting your lower lip. Everything about what you were doing was unmistakably seductive. Sam could practically feel the heat coming off you from across the room.

The witness stammered for a moment and finally managed a confused “No” as Sam stared wide-eyed from the other side of the desk. His aghast grew when you slipped two fingers into the man’s hair and twirled a curl between them, giggling at the disbelieving expression on his face.

That was enough for Sam. He strode across the room with urgency and gently took hold of your arm. “I’m so sorry. If you’ll just excuse us for a moment—I just need to have a word with my partner.” He tugged on your arm and you followed him into the hallway, smiling and giggling as he spun around to face you with a questioning expression, his hand still on your arm.

“Sam,” you gasped breathily.

He stared at you in intense confusion and concern, but that lump in his throat was still annoyingly present.

“That was so—forceful, so take-charge,” you said. “I liked it.” You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth again. “Honestly, right now,” you said stepping close to him, gently grasping the lapel of his suit coat, “all I can think about has absolutely nothing to do with the case… So, why don’t you and I find a nice private place to—”

“Heh—hey! Hey! Heeey!” he interrupted you before you could go anything further, because truthfully the way you were acting was making it difficult to think straight. He gently slipped your hand from his suit coat and stepped back, leaving a bigger space buffer between the two of you, but he couldn’t change the look of desire on your face. “Alright, umm—” he anxiously ran a hand back through his hair and let out a nervous laugh. “I think we should probably just go. I don’t think talking to this witness right now is a good idea,” he said.

“That’s just what I mean. You and I should just go back to the hotel and—”

“No! NO! No. I didn’t say that,” he said, pointing at you, stepping back again as you moved toward him. You smiled at him and there was a strange light in your eyes he found entrancing and a little alarming at the same time.

“Oh, come on, Sam. Don’t do that. Don’t put that space between us,” you said, giving him a fiery look. “Do you want me to beg, is that it?”

“That’s not—this isn’t—something is wrong,” he said urgently, brushing your hands off him for the third time with no small amount of effort. “I think something has happened to you,” he said vehemently. Sam grabbed your blazer from the floor where you had carelessly dropped it and held it out to you at arm’s length. “Put this back on,” he said.

“I’d rather take something else off.”

“Oh, God…” he muttered under his breath, averting his eyes from the expression on your face which was threatening to make every logical thought in his brain vanish in favor of agreeing with whatever you wanted to do with him. “Please, put it on. Please.”

You pouted but accepted your blazer from him, though you only slung it over your shoulder. Sam passed a hand nervously over his eyes and tried to take in a deep breath.

Just then the witness stepped into the hallway and you turned on your heel to face him. “Is everything alright?” he asked, perplexed at how long the two of you were in the hallway.

You started toward him but Sam immediately reached out and grabbed your arm gently again. “Yes! Yes. Sorry. Something has, umm, come up,” Sam said hurriedly. “Another case—urgent. So, we will have to come back and meet with you another time,” he said with a forced smile.

You were fiddling with another button on your blouse and sighing, tossing your hair back… Sam tugged on your arm and apologized again, relieved when you allowed him to start pulling you away toward the exit.

“I’m glad to see you’re finally on board with my suggestion,” you said, allowing him to lead you across the parking lot. “I really thought you were going to be a complete spoilsport.” Your voice still had that smooth, silky tone and Sam gritted his teeth against the (somewhat) unexpected feelings it was eliciting.

“Nope. No, we’re just going to go back to the motel,” he said.

“That’s exactly what I mean.” Sam felt your fingers trail lightly down his back and swore under his breath.

“No! No, we’re just going to go back to the motel and—and do some work. On the case! We’re—we’re going to do some research. You’re going to sit in your room, and—and I’m going to sit in my room. Completely separate. And we’re going to work on this case.”

You pouted dramatically but slipped into the car without a fuss when Sam opened the door for you.

His mind was racing as he walked around to the driver’s side. Clearly, you’d been hit with something—either a spell or a potion. He had a feeling he knew when but he still wasn’t exactly sure why… and the effects were quite, well, unusual. Was it purely to cause chaos? Entirely possible. He slid in behind the steering wheel and was putting the key in the ignition when he looked over to see you starting to move toward him, leaning over the center console, that same expression of fiery desire on your face.

“Oh, God—No, Y/N. No, no! Stay—just—in your seat. Just stay in your seat!” Sam quickly reached across you and grabbed the seatbelt, pulling it over you to buckle you in, in hopes that would contain you to your half of the car. While he was struggling to click the buckle in place, you slid a hand into his hair, your fingers tracing through it and raising the hairs on the back of his neck, sending a zip of electricity up his spine. He swore under his breath and shut his eyes for a moment before willing himself to snap out of it. He sat up and gripped the steering wheel, forcing out a deep breath.

A little while later, Sam had somehow managed to get you back to the hotel and to stay in your room ALONE while he paced back and forth in his and Dean’s, wondering what the hell to do. Sam was just about ready to start trolling around online to try and identify the possible potion when Dean came back from canvasing for info and Sam was immediately in front of him with a queer expression on his face.

Dean tossed down the keys to the Impala and took in his brother’s unease. “What’s going on?” he asked hesitantly.

“Y/N was… I think dosed with something…” Sam said vaguely. Dean’s face immediately clouded with concern.

“What? What the hell? Is she okay? How bad is it?”

Sam stared off into space for a moment, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, wondering how to answer that question. “It’s—it’s pretty bad,” he said, trailing off a little.

Dean’s concern deepened and he immediately started toward the adjoining door that connected your room to theirs.

Sam was suddenly on his feet, blocking his way. “Whoa. What are you doing?”

Dean gave him a strange look. “I’m going to check on her. You said it was bad!”

“Well, I mean, healthwise she’s fine,” Sam clarified. “I just mean the effects of the potion are… profound.”

Dean stared at him, puzzled. “Okay. Well, let me go see her and—”

“No, no,” Sam said, holding a hand up toward Dean in a continued attempt to stop him. “No. No, you’re not going in there. No way.”

Dean scoffed. “First of all, what the hell? Why the hell not? And second, since when do you get to dictate what I do?”

Sam’s jaw tensed. “YOU are not going in there.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed Sam. “Why are you saying it like that?”

Sam tried to look clueless. “What? I don’t know what you mean.”

“You said it like you specifically meant me in particular…”

Sam shrugged vaguely, the corners of his mouth pulled down. “Huh… Did I? I, uhh, I just mean she’s… resting.”

“Resting,” Dean repeated skeptically.

“Mhm,” Sam said, nodding adamantly. “Resting.”

“…What are her symptoms?” Dean pressed, but Sam was saved momentarily when Cas appeared with a rustling of wings. Sam’s eyes locked on him.

s “Cas. Cas!” he suddenly burst out. “Thank God!”

“What’s happened?” the angel asked, dark brow drawing low over his blue eyes as he sensed the anxiety and tension in the room.

“Apparently, Y/N was dosed with something and Sam is refusing to let me check on her for reasons he won’t explain.”

“Dosed? What do you mean? Y/N was poisoned?” Cas asked urgently, rushing toward the same door Dean had tried to get through.

“Not poison exactly, more like a potion, I think…” Sam said, anxiously rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“What are the effects?” Cas asked. Dean looked on in annoyance.

“Umm—you know what?” Sam said, considering the angel carefully for a long moment. “You should—you should go in and see if there’s anything you can do. Maybe you can stop the effects somehow?”

“Dude! How come he gets to go in but I don’t?!” Dean demanded, indignant.

Sam stared at the angel for a long moment, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“He’ll be fine. Cas’ll be fine. You—you just—you—you might not help the situation…”

Dean’s jaw dropped partially open. “What the hell does that mean?!”

Sam just stared at him with a vague wince on his face. “Just—maybe Cas can do something! Cut off the effects! I don’t know!”

“What are the effects? You haven’t even told us!” Dean roared, vexed by Sam’s strange behavior.

Cas ignored the tense stares between the two and pushed through the brothers. “I’m going,” he said, and Sam let him pass, stepping back into place as the door shut to continue to block Dean’s way...

As the door shut behind Cas, you leaned up on one elbow on the bed to look at who had just stepped in. The familiar silhouette of the trench coat was a dead giveaway for the angel and you smiled at him.

“Castiel,” you said.

His face was dark with concern and there were heavy worry lines on his forehead as he approached you. He had been about to inquire about your symptoms but the use of his full name by you caught him so off guard he froze mid-stride and peered at you, baffled. You never called him ‘Castiel.’

“I really was starting to get quite bored,” you said, sliding off the bed and onto your feet. “I wondered if Sam planned to lock me up here all by myself forever.”

Cas watched as you stepped slowly toward him, the swing of your hips seeming more pronounced, enough that even he, an angel, noticed.. His eyes traveled up to the deep V in your partially unbuttoned blouse and he gulped. That wasn’t like you. “…what?” was all he could manage to get out at first. You didn’t seem phased by his confusion and instead stopped directly in front of him, very close.

The next moment Cas watched your expression as you reached undid his tie and started to slip it from his neck, biting your bottom lip.

The angel still felt frozen, but when you curled your fingers into the lapels of his trench coat and began to slip it from his shoulders he finally shifted and stopped you with a firm hand. “Y/N… what are you doing?”

At first you only smiled at him, the light in your eyes sparkling but strange. “I feel like that should be fairly obvious,” you said. Suddenly, your arms were around his neck and your fingers were running through his hair.

In the next room, Sam and Dean were still arguing.

“Why are you being so weird? Just tell me what the hell is going on with Y/N!” Dean demanded, for what felt like the twentieth time.

“It’s nothing life threatening! She’ll be fine—it’s just—” Sam broke off yet again.

“Just what?!”

“Nothing! It’s nothing! I’m sure Cas is taking care of it right now. There’s no need to freak out!”

Dean let out a frustrated growl. “I’m not freaking out. You’re being weird and I want to know why! What the hell was all that stuff about me not going in, but the moment Cas shows up—”

Just then the adjoining door burst open and Cas rushed through, shutting it urgently behind him, leaning up against the door, his eyes a little wide. The Winchesters’ eyes snapped over to look at the angel.

His hair was completely unruly and his coat was disheveled. Furthermore, his tie was undone and barely looped around his neck at all. Sam stared at him hard and wondered if perhaps he had miscalculated. “Cas…” he started slowly, measuredly trying to withhold from anger or jumping to conclusions. “What happened?”

The angel straightened up and gulped. “Nothing. Nothing happened but, umm—I can’t do anything about that. We’re just going to have to wait until the effects wear off, which will probably be in a few hours.” He straightened his coat and began to retie his necktie, while clearing his throat a little awkwardly.

Dean was staring at him hard, his eyes narrowed and his mouth hanging partially open at the appearance of the angel. “If nothing happened why are you all—” he gestured vaguely to Cas, “—out of sorts?”

Sam was sort of wondering the same thing, with a wave of misplaced jealousy rising in his chest.

“Did she attack you or something?” Dean pressed.

Cas’s eyes lifted and he stared a little uncomfortably at the ceiling. “Not exactly.”

Sam’s jaw tensed and he put a hand over his face and sighed heavily, snapping Dean’s eyes over to him.

“Not exactly?” Dean repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”

“She’s—not herself,” Cas said quietly, his tone somewhat bashful.

Sam couldn’t stand it anymore and he just needed to know exactly what had happened when he went in there. “Did she kiss you?” Sam asked, a little afraid of the answer.

“Kiss him!?” Dean repeated, flabbergasted. “What the fuck!?”

Cas was standing in the middle of the room now, his blue eyes wide and round. “No,” he said urgently. “She did not.” He gulped at the tightness in his throat. “She would have tried but—”

Suddenly, Dean didn’t look upset anymore. And then suddenly, he was doubled over laughing so hard he could barely breath. The scene playing in his head of you coming on to Cas and the angel’s absolute bewilderment and befuddlement was just too good. Cas had an uncomfortable wince on his face and all Sam could do was stare at his older brother with a tight expression on his face.

“So, Y/N was slipped a horny potion?” Dean finally burst out through his laughter when he was finally able to take a breath.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean…”

“Well, based on her behavior is that an unfair description?” Neither Sam nor the angel could completely refute that.

“I need to… go…” Cas said, though he was clearly just so uncomfortable he wanted to get out of there.

“You might want to smooth your sex hair before you pop back upstairs if you don’t want the other angels to think you’ve been doing the deed down here,” Dean said, grinning as he popped open a beer.

“Dean!” Cas scolded him and shot him a glare, but also immediately began smoothing his thick, dark hair. “I’ll check back in later…” he murmured and with that the angel was gone, leaving the brothers alone. Dean was staring at Sam with an annoying, knowing smile on his face.

Sam tried to avoid his eyes but Dean wasn’t about to let it all just pass.

“Sam…”

Sam shot him a glare.

“Sammy, come on,” he said through a laugh.

“What?”

The left corner of Dean’s mouth was hitched up in a smile. “Come on. You sent Cas in there?”

Sam’s jaw simply tensed and he avoided his brother’s eyes.

“Are you gonna tell me why you were so weird about it? Sam, she’s frickin’ drugged. I’m not a scumbag! It’s not like I was going to—to take advantage of the situation.”

“I know! I know. That wasn’t—” Sam was trying to come up with a more reasonable explanation than what he knew in his gut was the truth. “Look, it was more to save her from any additional… embarrassment, you know? I mean, once the potion wears off she’s going to be mortified. Probably should keep that Y/N interacting with as few people as possible, right?” “Okay… but you sent Cas in,” Dean commented.

“Well, I thought maybe he’d be able to fix it and…” Sam again swallowed at the tightness in his throat but found that it didn’t diminish. Truthfully, the thought of you coming on to Dean the way you had to him (and that goddamn random witness) made him feel insanely jealous… Cas? Cas was clueless and aloof. Cas was safe. Cas wasn’t… competition? Maybe on some deep level Sam really was jealous of Dean’s seeming ease with the opposite sex… but the thought of you sliding your fingers into his hair, looking at him with that strange desire in your eyes, biting your bottom lip… Sam couldn’t handle it.

“Sammy,” Dean said, setting his beer bottle on the table with a loud clack. He leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees and peered at his brother. “Neither of us buy that argument.”

Sam avoided his eyes.

Dean straightened up with a sigh and a small smile on his face. “Sam, you have nothing to worry about when it comes to me. I’m pretty sure Y/N has liked you for a long time…” He casually sipped his beer as Sam’s eyes flicked back to land on his face. “So… when that potion wears off, you’re gonna go in there and you’re gonna tell her how you feel. Tell her that even the thought of her coming onto me, potion or not, made you want to punch me in the jaw.” He laughed again and shook his head. “Ah, poor Cas… he was not equipped to handle that.”

This finally drew a small smile and laugh from Sam as he looked down at his feet. “Yeah, I maybe should have warned him.”

“Maybe. But it’s funnier this way,” Dean said. Sometime later, as Sam and Dean were killing time with an old movie on the tv there was a soft knocking on the adjoining door to your room. Dean muted the tv and your voice came through the oak a little muffled. “Sam?”

Sam was immediately on his feet and at the door, pulling it open slightly to peek through at you. You had a hand up to your head and your eyes shut, wincing like you had a bad headache. “Hey,” Sam said. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes flicked open to meet his and he watched your cheeks turn bright red. “Uhh…” you turned and paced back toward your bed, where you sank down on the edge. “I guess so… if you count feeling hungover without the fun drunkenness and completely mortified being okay…”

“Ah,” Sam said. He glanced over his shoulder and Dean gave him a knowing smile and clicked the tv back on. Sam softly pulled the door shut behind him. “You remember that, huh? I wasn’t sure if you would or not…”

“Oh, you weren’t sure if I would remember coming on to any living being within a 5 foot radius? I do. Vividly,” you said with a sheepish laugh. “Thanks for, um… intervening with that witness,” you said through another wince as a pang of pain throbbed in your forehead.

“Of course,” Sam said. He looked around and spotted a bottle of ibuprofen on the side table and quickly filled a glass of water at the tap before offering both to you.

You accepted them with a grateful thank you and immediately took two pills before again meeting Sam’s striking hazel eyes. There was something going on behind them that started your heart fluttering. “Are you alright?” you asked him.

He let out a laugh and ran a hand back through his hair, pacing the length of the room back and forth once before stopping in front of you again. “Uhh… yeah. Just—” Come on, Sam. Just spit it out. Say it. “It was a weird day.” He seemed to be on the verge of saying something else so you simply waited patiently, watching a range of emotions flicker over his face in succession. “I mean—” his heart started absolutely pounding in his chest. “I—really like you, Y/N. Like… I’ve thought about how I should tell you this a thousand times and I never came up with anything worth a damn so I’m just going to say it. I want to be more with you.” For a moment the words just hung in the stagnant air in front of him and Sam waited for your expression to change, to give away some reaction to the cloud of admission hanging in front of you both, but your face remained impassive. Whether out of nerves or just some need to continue to fill the space, Sam continued. “I have thought about holding you, kissing you, just… being close to you for so long and then today all of a sudden—” he stalled out, his mouth hanging open, struggling to form the next words, he let out a nervous laugh and shook his head, “the way you were looking at me,” he sighed and pushed his hair out of his face, plunging ahead blindly. “But knowing it was all manufactured… it was like torture,” he admitted.

“Sam, I—”

“I’m almost done, I promise.” He worried if he stopped now he would never get it all out. “And then Dean got in and he wanted to come in here and check on you, see how you were, and just the thought of you coming onto him like that, or maybe kissing him—I wanted to punch him out,” Sam admitted.

“Sam, there is not and never has been anything between Dean and I,” you said forcefully.

He laughed bashfully. “Yeah, I know. I know that… just… touched a nerve I guess.” Your face flushed and you glanced down at the water glass in your hands. “What I’m trying to say is that I realized what an idiot I am for sitting around here on my hands doing nothing when you’ve been right here the whole time. And I just wanted to tell you that you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and—and if this is weird for you to hear or you don’t feel the same way that’s fine. That’s—it’s okay. But I needed to try.” Sam was so nervous and his heart was pounding so hard that he could feel his pulse in his feet. He was trying to read your expression but it was still impassive. You were just looking at him steadily. Perhaps your eyes were a little wider than usual, which only made Sam appreciate the color of them even more. Finally, you measuredly set your water glass on the side table and stepped close to Sam, looking up at the questioning expression on his face. You hadn’t meant to, but your bottom lip was suddenly pulled in between your teeth and Sam couldn’t help but start to smile. He knew what that action meant, and this time it wasn’t manufactured. Now you were looking up at him with a soft expression, but somehow with the same intensity of gaze you had earlier in the day, but now clear of that strange and concerning light he saw before. This was 100% you and Sam was so happy he couldn’t wait a moment longer before slipping a hand into your hair and another around your lower back and kissing you with all the heat that had been building in burning in his chest for so long, perhaps since the day he met you.

Your arms flew around his neck and soon you were both smiling into the kiss, blushing cheeks and bounding hearts and nervous flutters. When you drew apart briefly you wondered at the hues in his irises and felt suddenly bashful, turning your eyes away from his as a hotter blush grew in the apples of your cheeks.

Sam saw it. “What is it?” he asked, drawing back a little farther to take in your expression.

You bit your bottom lip again. “Just for the record… I’ve thought about kissing you and holding you and… doing all kinds of other things with you sans potion for a long, long time.”

Sam laughed heartily and felt heat rise in his face a little too. “Wow. Okay… now I’m blushing,” he said, clearing his throat a little nervously. “…What about Cas?” he joked.

Your hand flew to your face and you cringed. “No! Oh, God. I tried to make out with him!”

Sam nodded. “Yeeeeeah, we gathered as much. I forgive you,” he joked.

“What were you thinking letting him in here anyway?” you demanded.

“Well, I was hoping he could cure you… and as I said, the thought of Dean—”

“Right, okay. Can we just never talk about any of that ever again? I’d like to just relive the last part,” you said, sliding your arms around Sam’s neck again and meeting his eyes, up on your toes against his tall frame.

“Which part? My incredibly nervous rambling?”

You grinned at him. “Yes, actually. And this,” you said, and you kissed him again, sinking into him, deepening the kiss which became even more fiery and passionate than the one before until you felt completely off-balance and were thankful that Sam’s strong arms were around you.

Breaking apart, a little breathless, you were suddenly reminded that Dean was next door when there was a loud thud on the door to the adjoining room. “Hey! I certainly hope that potion has completely worn off because you’ve been in there for a while Sam!”

Sam let out an exasperated exhale and shut his eyes. “Shut up, Dean!” The answer from next door was pleased laughter.

Your cheeks bloomed pink again but you simply smiled up at Sam. “Ignore him. And kiss me again.”

That was all Sam needed to pick you up and fall over you onto the bed, eliciting a rise of surprise laughter from you even as your lips met again.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Light My Fire - CH04

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: A dash of anxiety, confusion, fluff, teasing

WC: 2667

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​​​ <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST

When they arrived at the venue, they had to wait in the limousine line for the people to move along, one after the other. It takes longer because of the photographers and interviews the guests are holding on the red carpet. 

Dean senses her anxiety and grabs at her hand. He threads his fingers through hers, his thumb massaging at the back of her hand, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She says, even though her mouth feels dry and her heart is near exploding. She’s really not made for the spotlight. 

It’s moving quicker than she thought it would and then suddenly, she feels him squeezing her hand, “Ready?”

She takes a deep breath and nods. Dean nods back with a small smile. Maybe it’s just her imagination but she thinks that he’s nervous himself.

Someone pulls the door open and Dean gets out first, she looks out from the car, sees how he stands there, buttoning up his suit jacket, nodding at the photographers with a big smile decorating his face. He’s used to it, she can tell. When he finishes buttoning up, he holds out a hand for her, and she knows that it’s her cue to get out as well. 

Immediately, she’s blinded by the flashlights. Oh god, it’s worse than she thought it would be. She tries to smile as Dean weaves his arms around her waist, guides her towards where more photographers and interviewers are waiting. 

“You’re doing great,” He whispers through his smile.

“I hope you know where we’re going because I can’t see,” She whispers back and Dean has to laugh at that. 

He walks her to a marked spot and they stand there, intertwined. Reporters are shouting Dean’s name and she really doesn’t know how he can still keep his cool. She’d like to yell at them for being so loud and shouting out all at the same time. It makes her head spin.

“Who’s that beautiful woman by your side, Mr. Winchester?” Someone yells out from the back.

“That’s my beautiful wife.” Dean’s voice is equally loud and he looks down at her, smiling a warm smile, his hand around her waist as he pulls her a little closer to his body. 

At the mention of the word wife everyone seems to gasp and the flashes stopped for a second.

“How long have you been married and how come you never brought her to events before?” A female reporter asks.

“Yesterday marked one month, and my wife is a private person, she doesn’t like being the center of attention.” 

She nods at that.

“How did you two meet?” One reporter shouts.

Dean chuckles with a boyish smirk, “She literally bumped into me in the streets and I was a goner since.”

“Tell us more!” The reporter asks.

“I don’t think we have that kind of time,” Dean jokes, and grins smugly.

“Mrs. Winchester, would you consider yourself lucky to be married to the sexiest business tycoon?”

Y/N seizes her opportunity, chuckles a little, “I would consider him to be lucky that he’s married to me,” She says and places her hand on Dean’s chest, looking up to him lovingly. Dean smiles down at her, the crinkles around his eyes deep. She makes sure that the hand on his chest is her left one, they can all see the rings.

“I love your dress!” One photographer shouts out.

“Thank you,” She replies, feeling a little proud.

Dean nods his agreement, “A dream in gold, isn’t she?”

“Can you two share a kiss for us?” A photographer yells out and several of his kind agree loudly.

Dean looks down, he smiles but he raises an eyebrow at her, as if to ask if it’s okay. She winks at him and his eyes go wide as his smile gets warmer before he lowers his face to hers. 

She’s prepared for a kiss but not for her heart to jump as soon as his lips touches hers. 

Y/N instantly turns to putty in his embrace and when Dean breaks the kiss and looks her in the eyes, she sees them glistening. Just when she thinks their moment is over, he dives in again, kisses her a little bit harder, his tongue teasing at her bottom lip and she grins into the kiss, parting her lips a little more to grant him access. His taste fills her mouth, it’s minty fresh, and her arms move up to lock behind his head, fingers thread through his short hair. He pulls her tighter towards him, melting his body to hers. She can feel his heart beating against her chest. His hands move down her back, until he grabs a handful of her ass.

“Okay, we got it!” Someone shouts and that’s the cue to stop. That’s the jerk that pulled them back to reality.

They part but Dean leaves his hand on her waist. When she looks at him, she can see the pink in his cheek, the red of his lips. She probably doesn’t look any different. Her hands go up to his lips, brushes away at them to clean them from excess wetness and he does the same for her, fingertips ghosting over her lips and it takes everything for her not to suck them in and make the situation awkward.

“If you two lovebirds could give us room for the next guest?” A woman wearing a headset comes and leads them towards the entrance. 

The moment is over.

They sit down at their table and it seems like Dean knows everyone here. He introduces her as his wife and she shakes more hands than she ever has in her lifetime.

When the meal comes, she complains about the too tiny portion, which prompts Dean to laugh out loud, saying it’s a relief that finally someone voices their opinion. He can’t stop laughing even if it isn’t even that funny? She hasn’t eaten and this is just making her grumpy.

“Dean, people are staring,” She says as one woman at their table clears her throat audibly.

Dean’s laughter dies down after her warning and he leans closer to whisper to her, “I don’t really care about those people. Can you hold on a little longer? There’s going to be dessert and if you’re still hungry, we can go and grab something on the way home, okay?”

“Okay,” She says, picks at her food and in two mouthful, it is already gone.

“Hello Dean,” A voice makes both of them turn around.

“Hey, Crowley,” Dean greets the man, stands up to shake his hand so she gets up as well. 

Crowley smiles, stares at her and back to Dean, “Another month, another woman, I see?”

“Oh,” Dean shakes his head, chuckles softly, “This one stays. I put a ring on her.”

“Did you? Lovely! Congratulations!” 

Y/N gives the men space to talk business and excuses herself to go to the bathroom. 

When she walks out, Dean’s waiting right outside, back leaning against the wall. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks and Dean grins when he sees her, pulls her to the side and walks with her a couple of feet away where nobody could see.

“Look, I’m sorry about Crowley,” He apologizes and she has to frown because she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Dean sighs, “The comment? You know? The woman of the month?”

“Oh,”

“I don’t want you to thin—”

“—Dean, it doesn’t matter what I think.” She interrupts him. Of course she knows about the women. She sometimes has to buy them flowers or book tables at restaurants. She’s not an idiot. Dean’s good looking and he’s single, he has the right to date around, “You're notorious for having a different girl on your arm all the time. You think I don’t already know that? I’m your assistant, believe me, I know.”

“It may be true that I take them out to social gatherings but it doesn’t mean that I’m fucking all of them.” Dean hisses, and she knows that he wants to keep his voice down.

She cocks an eyebrow and grins, “So, only some of them then.”

“Jesus,” Dean rubs over his scruff.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me,” She says, and adds, “Do we need to go over a story so that we’re telling the same one?”

“Maybe we should,” Dean says and he places his hand around her waist, pulls her further away from the gathering until they are standing in a hallway next to the kitchen. She stands with her back against the wall while Dean crowds her in, shielding her from prying eyes.

“What do you say when someone asks how you fell for me?” She asks him, and she doesn’t know why her heart’s beating so fast.

Dean looks at her then, his gaze is intense, it makes something flutter in her stomach. His thumb comes up to brush against her bottom lip, “Your smile. You have a beautiful smile.”

She has to swallow hard at that, “And how did I fall for you?” 

Dean chuckles, leans down a little more, his lips ghosting over hers, “I can be persistent. I came to your work and showed up every day until you said yes. It’s not even a lie,” he kisses her and it’s so soft, too. She almost has to whimper. He grins, kisses her again, equally soft and gentle. 

He’s still grinning when he parts, “Come on, let’s go to the bar.”

Taking her hand, he pulls her away to the front again, and leads her towards the bar.

“But dessert,” She says, a little disappointed that she’ll miss it.

Dean laughs and places his hand around her waist, pulls her close and kisses her temple, “I think it’s going to be some weird marzipan shit anyway. It’s not worth it. I’ll feed you when this is all over, okay?”

Y/N sighs and rolls her eyes, “Fine!”

He grins at that, pulls her closer to kiss her cheek, “That’s my girl— oh no!” His grip tightens on her hips.

“What?” She tilts her head to ask him and notices his lips pressed into a thin line. When she looks back ahead, she sees what he is looking at.

He is looking at them.

Chuck and Amara.

“Did you know they were going to be here?” She asks curiously.

“No, I didn’t.” He hisses through gritted teeth.

“Dean!” Chuck greets his new business partner.

“Chuck,” Dean says, tries to stay professional and then he turns to the woman and nods at her, “Amara.” Dean clears his throat, “This is my wife, Y/N.”

She holds out her hand and Chuck takes it, lowers his face to kiss the back of it, “I thought he was just making shit up,” Chuck chuckles, “But look at you, you’re real. It’s nice meeting you, Y/N.”

When she holds out her hand to Amara, the woman doesn’t even acknowledge her. Her lips are thin. “Your marriage is fucking fake Dean, and you know it!”

Y/N’s jaw drops, “Excuse me?”

“Oh, please,” Amara turns to her, “We all know that he’s not married! And now suddenly he has a wife? I am his wife!”

“I—” She starts to speak.

“—Don’t you dare talk to my wife like that.” Dean’s loud, it makes everyone around him flinch. And then he hisses, “I don’t even know what happened alright? All I know is that I woke up the next day with a marriage certificate propped up on my fucking nightstand.”

“Don’t think you can get away with it, Dean,” Amara’s fuming, Y/N can tell, “My lawyer is talking to Sam. He’s still waiting for that court date to annul our marriage, isn’t he? I’m sorry to say but if you want out, I want more money or else I’ll sue. And I’ll win.” Amara storms off before she or Dean can say more.

Chuck stays, though. He keeps his cool. “Don’t mind her,” Chuck says, “She’s just not used to not getting the things she wants. I’m on your side. If you’ll excuse me,” Chuck pushes himself away from the bar to greet someone else but not without turning back before he leaves, “We’re still on for that dinner?”

“Yeah, we are.” Dean says, lifts his hand for a salute.

“Wow,” She turns to the bar and the bartender comes around and asks her what she would like, “Do you have shots of tequila?”

The bartender nods with a smile. 

“Then two please.” She holds out two fingers and Dean raises his eyebrows to which she just shrugs.

The shots are placed in front of her and Dean reaches out for one which makes her swat at his hand. 

“Hey!”

She chuckles, “Who said they were for you? Get your own drink!”

Dean laughs, loud and sharp. “You’re something else, you know that?” He kisses her temple before he orders a whiskey and watches her drink her two shots.

“What did Chuck mean by he’s on our side?” She asks Dean and he sips his glass.

“Chuck wants Amara out. He just doesn’t have the money to buy her shares from her. He’s about to do anything that would get her to hand over the shares to a reasonable price but she wants double for it.” Dean says in a low voice, “That’s why he was on board when I showed interest. He wants to slowly push Amara out.”

“She sounds greedy,”

“That’s because she is.”

*

Meeting Amara kind of put a damper on the evening that has started more than alright. They’re sitting in the limousine, neither of them talking for a long while. It’s Dean who breaks the silence first. 

“Are you still hungry?”

“Ugh, I kind of lost my appetite.” She sighs.

“Yeah, that happens every time I see Amara,” Dean chuckles tiredly. 

They return to silence. She’s looking out the window, and starts to count passing streetlights to pass the time and silence.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Dean says after a while.

Looking at him, she sees him smiling at her softly. How he can still manage to smile is beyond her. 

“Aren’t you scared that she’ll get what she wants?” 

“Is that why you’re so upset?” 

“Duh!”

“Hey,” Dean’s hand finds hers, he squeezes it, “Don’t worry about it, okay? We just keep on doing what we do. Sammy is good at what he does. All Amara has are empty threats, she’s got nothing on us.”

Us.

He says it so easily. It might be weird but she likes the sound of it.

Dean leaves his hand on hers the whole way back and takes it again when they get out of the limo and ride the elevator up in silence. 

Once inside, he lets go of her and that’s okay and not okay at the same time. She’s confused and she doesn’t even know why. All she knows is that she feels things she shouldn’t.

“I’m going to bed,” She says and he probably will too, because tomorrow is a work day and it’s already late.

“Okay,” Dean takes a step closer to her, reaches out to touch her, fingertips ghosting over her arm, “You did great today. I haven’t had that much fun at an event for a long time.” 

“It was my pleasure,” She replies, smiles a tired smile.

Dean takes another step closer and he’s so close  again. She tries not to think about their kiss but that’s impossible because it’s the only thing she can think about right now. He weaves both his arms around her waist, pulls her closer and places a kiss on her forehead, “Good night, Y/N.”

She nods, and takes a step away from him, keeps her head down to hide the fact that she’s beet red, and walks to her room with an extra sway of her hips (just because she can). She turns around at the corner to see him smirking at her. 

CH05

[ai-katsuu]

Hi. So based on the recent post of RSEA x bishonen tanteidan crossover, could u do a scene where Audrey is introduced to the f7 in a similar way Manibu introduced the Pretty Boy Detective Club to Mayumi? Oh and definitely that scene where Mayumi asks Michi to brew her tea like in the pic w Jack and Audrey. Hope it’s not too much 👉👈. Thx.

Sure! This was pretty fun to write!

“Are you okay?” the male asked grinning, holding her in his arms as he moved his face closer to hers.

Audrey widened her eyes. Where did he come from? What’s with those eyes? It’s too alluring...captivating. The man had brown hair swept to the side, his eyes the same color. He donned a navy blue outerwear and had the appearance of a sorcerer.

“Thank you…” she muttered as she finally tore her gaze away from his face.

The man smiled and hummed as he stepped back and looked at her. Audrey didn’t know what he was staring at, so she refused to look back at him as she tucked her hands behind her back.

“So, you like the ocean?” he asked as if implying something.

Audrey finally looks at him a little surprised, “What makes you think that?”

“Why, that’s a quite simple, elementary deduction.” he simply responded with a snap of his finger, “After all I can’t think of any other reason to be on the beach alone at this time of season.”

Indeed, it was winter. Not exactly the most favorable season for people to visit the location. But regardless, this man was right.

“I love the sea too,” he continued, “The beautiful sound that you hear when the long awaited waves crash onto the warm sand, the way it reflects everything in its path. It’s  too beautiful!” he spread his arms as he faced the water.

He paused and took a deep breath of the salt watered air, turning back to Audrey, “Looking for something?”

“What makes you think that?” she asked once more. How does he keep guessing what exactly her motives are?

“Why, another elementary deduction,” he puts his hands on his hips and confidently walks towards her, “The most elementary of elementary speculation. Only someone completely absorbed in searching for something,” he leans towards her smirking, “would fail to notice my spectacular self standing nearby.”

‘He said that, he totally said that. ‘My spectacular self’...’ she thought as she frowned, slightly moving back and away from him.

Suddenly, the male then brought out a magnifying glass. He blinked a couple of times before making a sound in realization.

“What now…” she muttered.

It took awhile for her to notice, but he was not looking at her, rather, he leaned down and looked at the edge of the shore behind her. The water should’ve gone back to the ocean like any wave does after it crashes onto the sand, but the area surrounding Audrey doesn’t. It circulated around her shoes.

“I of all people was a bit careless here. I just noticed it, you have a connection to the water.”

Audrey gasped and quickly hid her hands in her pockets. As soon as she did, the water surrounding her shoes went back to the ocean.

He tilted his head in confusion as he put his hand on hips, “Hm? Why’d you stop? A shame to hide such magnificence. No need to worry, talent is not something to compare.” his gaze went to the little talismans he had in his pocket, “Even if you stand next to me your powers will not be dulled!”

Having enough of this conversation, Audrey bit her lip as she took a deep breath and huffed. She turned to him, her foot stomping on the sand as she presented her best forced smile with her fists clenched.

“You’re right. I am searching for something. Would you be so kind as to assist me?” she said through gritted teeth and a grin.

“But of course!” he beamed with self confidence, completely unaffected by her obvious expression, “After all self service is what me and my boys do!”

He then took her hand and started running across the sand, “Come with me!”

“W-where are we going?!” she quickly asked.

“That should be obvious!” he smirked as he looked back at her, “To the Fearless Seven headquarters, of course!”

---

Audrey had heard of the Fearless Seven, or the F7 in short. They were the greatest heroes nationwide, but also the most mysterious. They have never shown their face to the public, and when their clients were interviewed they were forced to keep their mouths shut as per the contact that the F7 gives to them. The members whole identity is kept a mystery.

“Creepy…” Audrey pouted as she thought about this, was it really a good idea to ask for their help?

…

“Eh..?”

After arriving at their destination, Audrey was somewhat surprised that the nations greatest heroes lived in...how would she put it, a ‘down-to-earth’ home.

“This is...Risky Rock?” she spoke to herself as she looked around what seemed to be the living room.

“Hmm?”

Another voice came from the end of the room, sounding displeased at her arrival.

“What’s this? This time you brought over a girl who doesn’t even look like royalty. For all we know she’s a commoner.”

The irritated man had his back turned to her. He wore a blue vest and his blond hair was swept up. He had his hands on his hips as he held a small hand mirror towards his face.

“I bet she doesn’t even know the first thing about how to greet princes. She probably stumbles over her words and can’t even curtsy properly.”

“Princes…?” she questioned in a whisper before realizing what he said and raised her voice, “Excuse me! But I’m-”

Though it was at a distance, the man held his mirror up to look at her in his reflection. That was when the slow realization hit her and she gasped.

‘Prince Jack. The man who climbed the beanstalk and came down wealthy. The rags to riches prince, the wealthiest man in all of Fairy Tale Island. He was obviously well known around the island but has been noted to be hard to approach due to his motto:

“Time is money.”“’

In other words, every second speaking to him would probably cost Audrey her entire month's budget on meals.

“Come now, Jack.” A second, more gentler voice came from the other end of the room, “You should not say something so endlessly rude to a woman you just met.”

The man had a large sword in his lap, and Audrey heard the sounds of what seemed to be him sharpening it, “We haven’t been getting a lot of requests lately, try not to scare off our money this time.” he chuckled as he threw the slab to the side.

“...Prince Arthur!” she widened her eyes.

‘He was the most revered of the knights in Fairy Tale Island. Heir to the throne of Camelot, he was known for defeating many monsters, witches, and beasts with just his brute strength.’ she marveled in her thoughts, ‘Who knows what he could do if he put that sword of his to proper use…and to say the least you won't find a girl who’s never heard of him.’

“The richest prince, Jack, and the strongest prince, Arthur,  who basically makeup part of the well known princes in the Island, are in the same room together.” she mumbled to herself, “I couldn’t possibly hide my surprise.”

Jack scoffed as he turned to Arthur, “Don’t complain while you’re drinking the tea I brewed for you. That stuff is from my personal collection.”

But Arthur merely chuckled, “Come now. The tea that you give us is excellent, Arthur.”

“Yup! That’s right, Jack!”

Another voice, this time coming from where the couches were arranged, interrupted.

“You nabbed a girl as cute as her, and you’re saying she’s a filthy commoner?”

‘Eh...a second voice? But they sound just the same…’

“Right? I thought you’d propose at first sight like ‘Let’s live together!’”

‘No, there are three voices!’

Simultaneously, the voices stood up to reveal themselves to her with a grin, and for the third time, Audrey had to gasp.

‘Princes Pino, Noki, and Kio!’ she thought as she swallowed her throat, ‘They’re known for being the best and smartest inventors, not just among the princes but on the whole island as well! Not to mention, rumoured to be extremely handsome under those hats.They were revered scholars that surpassed even their father, the great inventor Geppetto...how on earth are they all here?!’

“You’re the traveler who controls water right? Audrey!” Pino snapped his fingers.

Audrey pouted, “How did you…”

“All in a day's work, nice to meet ya.’’ said Noki.

Kio (she hoped she was telling them apart right), stood up and went to what seemed to be the kitchen of the estate. “Hans, cook up some pasta for us will you? Something tells me we’ll need a feast for this meeting.”

Audrey’s gaze went to the gingered haired chef who stood in front of the stove, ‘Prince Hans. One of the twins from the kingdom of sweets, and the master of all cooking. He’s won many competitions and restaurants have been clawing at him for him to even just to make an appearance or try their food so that he would leave a review.’

“I see…” she stepped back and looked at the six men, “This really is the ‘Fearless Seven’, so many talented and famous people...no not just people, princes. If people knew who they were, they would come flocking with requests.”

Audrey frowned and put her hand on her chin, “But that’s what makes it all the more bewildering. Why would these six participate in such a group?”

Then, a confident and boisterous laugh was heard behind her. Audrey quickly turned around to see the man that guided her here. Now that she had the proper lighting, she could finally see who he really was. It all made sense.

“Once again, I must say I am pleased to meet you, Traveler Audrey.” he took her hand and looked her in the eye, “I am none other than the leader of the Fearless Seven, Prince Merlin.”

‘So the proclaimed leader who had the wealthiest, strongest, smartest, and talented in tow…’

‘...Wait.’

“Who are you…again?” Audrey squinted at him.

Merlin’s smile remained before morphing into a shocked and betrayed expression, “W-What do you mean who I am?!” his filter completely fell as he put his hand to his chest and leaned towards her.

Kio could help but burst out in laughter, “Oi, is she serious? She really doesn’t know who he is? This must be a low blow for you, Merlin!” He held his stomach.

“Truly a humbling moment, you’re not as well known as you think you are.” Hans smiled as he glanced at their leader.

“Shut it you two!” Merlin balled his fists then turned to Audrey, desperate to have his name known, “I’m Prince Merlin of Camelot! Greatest wizard of all time? Greatest sorcerer? The most well known in all of Camelot?!’ he yelled the last bit.

He had moved towards her with each sentence, causing her to step back and fall back into one of the luxurious chairs in the room. She leaned back on it as a worried expression started to form on her face.

“...I thought Prince Arthur was the most well known in Camelot...and that the greatest wizard and sorcerer was a mouse called Mick-”

“I brought that mouse his intelligence! That was me! The papers just don’t acknowledge it!”

‘Exasperated’, ‘Out of breath’, and ‘Flustered’ were the right words to describe Merlin right now.

“Let it go, muchacho.” Arthur sat with a sly grin etched on his face, “Not anyone can best me in terms of popularity.”

“How true,” Jack, now having a smirk on his face, walked up to Merlin who still frowned at him, “Poor little wizard is not as well known as we are.”

But when it came to Jack, Merlin’s complexion changed and took...no that’s not the right word, gripped his hand and pulled him close, “Better shut that pretty face of yours up and pay special attention to our guest. It’s your job after all.” Merlin forced through a smile, though it was blatantly obvious to everyone.

Jack’s smirk faded and rolled his eyes, walking towards Audrey.

‘Huh…?’ she thought, ‘He just obeyed him like that, even though he’s a prince. This Merlin really is the leader...is he really a prince like he claims?’

“Well?”

Audrey snapped out of her thoughts and yelped as Jack suddenly appeared before her, leaning down with a disapproving look on his face. “Don’t look at me with that stupid look on your face. What do you want?” he said, getting impatient.

“Geez, they must’ve been real attentive to the boss back home.” Audrey frowned at him, not bothering to hide her thoughts.

“Watch your tongue, commoner.” Jack kicked her chair with a good amount of force before kneeling down to her level to look her in the eye.

“Now, now, Jack.” Hans said from the kitchen as he prepared the plates for everyone, “Might as well get her something to drink. She’s here regardless.”

Jack looked annoyed at the chef before looking back at Audrey who thought about this a little too seriously. Feeling relieved that Hans was on her side a little she outstretched her arm towards him and closed her eyes.

“I’ll have tea.” she attempted to sound confident, but the expression on her face betrayed her.

“You’ve gotten rather shameless.” Jack noted as he knelt down.

[nosferatvpussy]

distorted lullabies [chapter IX]

Word count: 8,916

Warnings: vulgar language, and, um... things get heated. Read next to someone at your own risk. Sincerely, me. (This is valid advice to every single chapter).

Pairing: Dracula x female reader

AO3 link

______________________________________________________________

In all fairness to him, Count Dracula remained quiet during most of our trip but not without staring at me from time, as though he was waiting for me to cave under his gaze and explain myself for what I had said. 

I glanced at him as he made a turn towards Blackwall Tunnel and smiled when he immediately frowned at the row of cars in front of us. London traffic wasn’t something he was used to, I supposed. Blackwall Tunnel ran underneath the River Thames, towards Greenwich, and I began listing in my head all of our possible destinations since he wasn’t kind enough to tell me where we were headed. After little more than 10 minutes without moving more than a couple of metres, I heard him mutter in another language; curses, by the sound of it. As I drummed my fingers on my knee, I let out a chuckle.

“What's so funny?” 

“You, an immortal being, annoyed because you’ve been sitting in traffic for more than 5 minutes. I thought you would have learnt patience after centuries.”

A hand still on the wheel, Dracula leaned closer. While every instinct told me to meet him halfway, I shrank on my seat to save me the temptation. I met his heated stare with one I hoped was just as intimidating. His lips tugging up told me he didn’t regard me like that at all. 

“I only have patience for some matters.” His hand fell on my knee, overtop my own hand, as to clarify his words.

Thanking myself for choosing trousers earlier that day, I slipped my hand from his. If I had been wearing a skirt, things could have gone very differently. 

“I hope you mean it,” I started, dreading my next words. “Because Renfield says otherwise.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Dracula said as he removed his hand and swiveled his head to look in front of us, allowing the car to roll forward. 

I should’ve kept quiet if I wanted to harbour fear against him but I found no space for it inside me. 

“He said you’ll grow tired–”

“And I said not to listen to him, Y/N. He’s jealous.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s wrong, though,” I said. He simply shook his head, so I continued. “At the museum, you said you won’t kill me. Did you mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Will you hurt me–” I interrupted myself. Suddenly, I didn’t want to know the answer to that question. If he said yes then it would only solidify another reason I had to hate him. And what good would that do when reason couldn’t appeal to my attraction to him?

“Only if you ask me to.” His voice sounded thick, coated with nothing more but desire.

Startled, I blinked. 

“Not where I was going with this,”  I muttered while a tiny part of me added but good to know .

“The answer is no. I won’t hurt you if I become impatient, which I don’t think will happen, by the way,” he said. I opened my mouth but he was quicker. “I want you by my side and I want you to take the decision by yourself. I’ve taken what or who I wanted, when I wanted and however I wanted my entire life. It gets boring after awhile.”

“And I don’t bore you?”

“Not one bit. You’re not exactly predictable.”

“Is that the only reason you’re so adamant about–” I frowned, trying to pick the best words.

“Having you?” he offered in a low voice, gazing at me once he hit the brakes. I nodded lightly. “Not the only one, no.”

I stared at him, searching his face or posture for a tell that he was lying. After years of interviewing clients, cross examining witnesses and debating with prosecutions, I would say I was very good at picking up lies. Either Count Dracula rarely lied or I was too dense to pick up his tells from his years of practice. What mattered was that I believed him when he said that. 

I relaxed on my seat, satisfied that I was more to him than simply a distraction to soothe his centuries–long boredom. While I knew full well that I shouldn’t be pleased with that, I also knew that it was only human of me to feel glad that he liked me beyond my looks or my ability to entertain him. I almost asked him what were the other reasons but, running the risk of hearing something I wouldn’t be equally as pleased with, decided against it.

“Okay,” I settled for saying.

A knot in my chest untied itself and breathing suddenly became easier. We fell into silence, albeit a surprisingly comfortable one, for the rest of the trip. 

Greenwich Park made me lean forward on my seat and crane my neck to try getting a better look at it past Count Dracula. Light poles scattered here and there only alluded to the expanse of the green field extending at our right. Where light didn’t touch, it was pure pitch black. As the car kept moving, chestnut trees came into view at the very edge of the park illuminated only by tiny lamps hidden between brushes. I’d been there enough times to know that some days you couldn’t get more than 10 paces without bumping into someone. It was odd to see it utterly empty and enveloped by dark, like it was forgotten by all during the night. From this angle I could see nothing of the city and for a moment Greenwich Park existed beyond the touch of modernity, beyond the touch of people. As we slid to a stop, the gate that led to the park came into view as did a security guard, breaking the impression.

“I’ve never been in this part of the city at night,” I stated.

Dracula set the car in reverse and paralleled parked like he had been doing it for years instead of weeks. Presumably, he had picked up that skill from feeding on someone’s blood. Considering he had bought a car, he had most likely also bought his driving license since he couldn’t have completed driving lessons in less than 2 months. 

“Why not?” He asked after he was finished. 

“Never thought of coming here after dark,” I shrugged. “People usually stay to watch the sunset and leave,” I pointed at a group of people leaving the park, filing past the car, oblivious to us watching them. “I bet it’s quiet now.”

“You’ll see.” 

Before I could say more, Dracula turned off the car and left, disappearing in a blink. I spared myself from being surprised when my door was opened and he offered me a large hand. He’d moved that fast before, when we went to Camden, only then I didn't know how he’d done it. I slid my hand into his and he used his grip as leverage to pull me towards him and slam the door in one motion. I tipped my head to look at him, seeing the sly grin in his face, looking very happy with himself that he’d made my heart jump as I realised how close we were. 

I tried taking my hand back but all that did was make Dracula hold it tighter and raise it between us. My hand looked ridiculously small compared to his. He shifted his grip so his thumb rested on my palm and his fingers brushed my knuckles. There was a dragon emblazoned in the ring on his fourth finger; I tried to read the inscription surrounding it but was distracted by Count Dracula stepping forward. I staggered to keep distance between us, my back hitting the car and evoking the memory of him pressing me against my front door as he kissed me. 

“Let’s not fool around. The park will close any minute now,” I told him in a low voice, more out of need to say something in an attempt to keep my body from reacting to his presence.

“So I’m yours but you can’t be mine? Doesn’t seem fair to me.”

I frowned, waiting for my brain to catch up on how that was a valid reply to what I had just said, but then I remembered the episode with Chelsea and Sarah.

“I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass,” I muttered. Dracula arched a black eyebrow, seemingly interested in the idea. “It’s an expression! Don’t get it twisted,” I said quickly, fighting a nervous smile and feeling proud of myself that I was able to. I used my free hand to push at his chest, to no effect. “I only said that to keep them away from you. I imagine it would be a little incriminating if the people I know, especially the ones I don’t care much for, started showing up dead.”

“That’s it?” He asked, pressing his thumb to my palm. His nail needled my flesh and I gasped at the danger of it breaking my skin. A steely grip kept me from escaping but he relaxed the pressure on my palm. The tip of my fingers brushed his chin in my attempt to escape and I curled them down, choosing to wrap my hand around his instead of caressing his bottom lip like I felt the urge to. “Because, you see, I’ve gotten quite good at deciphering your pulse and I don’t remember it changing when you said that earlier.”

Cold fingers touched my waist through the thin fabric of my blouse, sending a shiver up my spine. His hand wandered to my lower back, touch light as a feather as he played with the blouse’s hem. I grit my teeth, staring defiantly at him. The only way to escape his touch was if I moved my hips forward, which meant I would be forced to fit my body to his. I stood stock still as his fingers found my skin underneath my clothing, trailing up my spine and building another chill.

“Don’t read too much into it,” I told him, emboldened by how much in control I was of my body tonight. “Ever heard that joke about lawyers? How can you tell a lawyer–”

“– is lying? Because their lips are moving?” he completed with a smirk. “No, no, no. You lie to yourself, darling. But never to me. Never–” his knee parted my legs, allowing a hard rock thigh to rub against my most sensitive part, prompting a throb to begin there “–to me.”

I could’ve broken his hand with how tight I clasped it. He grunted in response and I wondered if I had indeed broken something. If I had, it didn’t seem to faze him because he continued moving. I shut my eyes, wanting to ignore the triumph I saw in his face when my hips bucked of their own volition. Reminding myself that we were out in the open, mere feet away from a security guard, I pursed my lips to stifle a moan as pleasure spread slowly through my body with every move of his thigh. 

His lips touched my cheek briefly but what made my eyes fly open was the sudden emptiness between my legs. Our bodies were no longer moulded together, with the exception of our interlaced hands. Dark eyes regarded me smugly as Dracula licked his lips, a taunting smile coming to life when I stared back at him, mortified that I had let this happen and seething with rage because he had stopped. 

“I believe we only have twenty minutes now, before the park closes,” he said, smoothing down his crumpled shirt with his free hand. “Ah, look what you’ve done to me.” He turned the hand still laced with mine to show me his thumb, now marked with several half–moons my nails had left on his skin and probably the reason he had grunted. 

I snatched my hand from his and, this time, he let me. The lingering throb between my legs made me avoid his hard stare. If I needed any more reason to believe he was evil incarnate, this was it. Teasing me with what I could have, leading me to the edge of bliss and then wrenching it away like it was nothing. I would have begged for more, too, had I not seen the smug expression on his face. I wasn’t granting him that satisfaction nor was I doing that disservice to my pride. 

“Payback for the museum?” I asked, collecting myself as I pushed forward, putting more force in my stride than needed. 

“If you want to see it that way.” He followed me to the gate. “I was thinking more along the lines of what you’re missing.”

“Your ego is extraordinarily, uh–” big? Like I hoped all of him was? 

Unsexy thoughts, that’s what I needed to get through this. Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip having senile sex. The orcs from Lord of the Rings; oh, Viggo Mortensen was hot as Aragorn. Shit! It wasn’t working.

“You were saying?”

“Nothing,” I hissed.

Count Dracula grasped my elbow, keeping me from darting through the gate, and laced my arm with his in true gentlemanly fashion, placing a hand over mine. I shot him a cold look as he forced me to slow down to a stroll but he didn’t catch it, too busy nodding politely at the guard.

“Don’t take long, you two,” said the man, nodding back with a rather respectful yet amused gaze. 

I presumed that meant he had watched the show. Raising my chin, I cast him a derisive glance and he looked away.

As the Count and I walked, I tried regulating my breath and counting down from 10 several times to calm myself. We made a turn to our right, following one of the most lit paths, and were confronted with the famous Greenwich view. It was like seeing it for the first time, all those years ago when I’d come here as a kid. London’s skyline tipped in the horizon, the lights from Canary Wharf seeming tiny in the distance, nevertheless shining bright through the low clouds on the night sky and reflecting on the Thames. On this side of the river, yards down Greenwich Park’s hill, the Queen’s House, now a museum, and the Old Royal Naval College posed a stark contrast in all their symmetry and antique architecture, now softly highlighted by yellow illumination.

“That’s–” I searched for a word that felt appropriate but my brain was still slow after what had happened near the car, so what came out of my mouth was “–wow.”

“What do you see?” He asked me, tilting his head in my direction.

I glanced at him to see what he was doing but his gaze was focused on the view.

“Same as you.”

“No, I see more. Tell me what you see.”

Furrowing my brows, I did as he asked. He simply hummed in response when I was done. I waited to see if he would elaborate on that but his silence indicated that he wanted me to ask. 

“How is it different to what you see?” I inquired, trying to keep annoyance off my tone.

“I don’t see much of the night’s darkness, as you put it. These eyes”– he touched a finger to his temple– “have grown used to it just as yours have to sunlight. The night is as bright to me as day is for humans. For you the view is beautiful, isn’t it?” He looked at me and I nodded, wondering where he was going with this. “But not astonishing?” I shook my head in denial. “After centuries, I could have never dreamt of seeing something like this. I’m still not used to it… How ethereal modernity can be yet so utterly redundant to people who have seen it become what it is.” 

He gestured as he talked, beginning to walk again and dragging me with him. I was more than happy to follow his gait, trying to understand what he meant. He could be contemptuous and infuriating most of the time but, after that night at my house I’d also learned that he could be interesting company. I wouldn’t get another opportunity to talk with someone who had lived through most of humanity’s grand conquests and failures any time soon. Because of that, I put all of my resentment for him aside and simply listened. 

“Was it not the same way in the past? Didn’t people grow accustomed to new things as they do now?”

“Accustomed? Nobody had the opportunity to get accustomed to anything . They were too busy dying young in wars or from starvation. You must remember I lived in a time where most progress was made only decades before I sunk with that ship. Before that, Europe was stuck in the Dark Ages; I quite like the name people give it now. Suits it. I had just begun consuming modern, truly advanced knowledge when I ended up at the bottom of the sea. I woke up dying to meet this age through new blood but now, it’s too easy because of these things,” he showed me his phone, flashing it on for a second before slipping it back in his jacket. “Everyone knows everything. Hardly anything is surprising to them.”

“It’s easy for you, too,” I said, thinking about how he navigated London's streets with ease and his texts to me considering he had spent the last hundred years asleep. 

“Yes because I’ve learned how. I’d expect most things would hold the same fascination for me as it does for humans but the majority of people I drink from is so–”

“Jaded?” I offered and he nodded. “You sound like it. May want to think of varying your diet if you want some real joie de vivre .”

“Are you offering to help?” His grip on me tightened but I ignored it, choosing to let my eyes wander on the landscape around us instead of acknowledging his taunt. I’d walked right into that one, hadn’t I? 

“I don’t count. I’m jaded, like everybody else.”

“That’s not what I remember from your blood,” he retorted. Dracula’s words instantly slowed down my pace and I risked a glance in his direction. Eyes blazing red made me stop. I started averting my gaze but I knew he wouldn’t simply drop this. As I had learned from his teasing not 10 minutes ago, he rarely dropped a subject when he brought it up. Might as well face it. When I stared at his eyes, they were black again.

“If I’m not jaded, what am I then?” I asked him.

“Drained.”

“Really, vampire puns?” I rolled my eyes but I was smiling stupidly.

He chuckled, sounding more like a purr. 

“Tired, weary, spent, worn out– choose whatever you want to call it. You still manage to enjoy things but not as you once did, that much I know. From time to time something breathes new life into you and that’s what keeps you going. The promise of excitement. Even if it’s something you think it’s silly like a new book or a song that touches your soul. So, no, you’re not jaded, Y/N.”

I scowled, an unknown rage swirling inside of me.

“Excitement? That is silly. I’m not sixteen anymore. No, you’re wrong. My job is what keeps me going, my ability to–”

“Is it? Routine is pleasant to you? Wallowing in the very worst of what humanity has to offer everyday as you assist criminals?”

“I don’t always assist criminals,” I began, words lashing out in anger. “I’ll have you know–”

“I already know everything.” He drew his brows together, giving me a languid smile which faded as he proceeded. “Y/N, all you’ve longed for your entire life is excitement, something different from the usual. Why do you think you defend killers? You could’ve become a prosecutor, surely.” He clucked his tongue, like he was tasting something in his mouth. “You even had the opportunity but it wouldn’t be as fun, would it? Imagine that, being an average lawyer in London. That would be unbearable for you. But not even defending challenging cases fulfills you anymore. Nothing does.”

“Don’t presume to know me just because you drank my blood.” I raised my forefinger finger at him when he opened his mouth; for a second I thought he would bite it off but I didn’t cower. “And don’t interrupt me again. Listen, and listen to me very clearly now. Everything that you know about me, you know because you took it from me. So, what you don’t get to do is twist my– my memories, feelings or whatever it is you drank, into truths that suit you and then throw them in my face.”

“But I’m not wrong, am I?” He said, matching my anger with scary calm. “You want something more from life. It’s all so very boring that you had to make a deal with me. A vampire.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. However, I didn’t like hearing truths I hardly ever thought of, so deep were they buried in the back of my mind, being voiced by the one person who had no business understanding them. After what he had just unveiled, he understood parts of me I hadn’t explored enough to feel comfortable with, yet. And while it was oddly relieving not needing to explain my musings about life, it was also despairing knowing Count Dracula was the only person ever who would be able to see the world through my eyes.

Was life so trite that I’d made a deal with him in a subconscious craving for excitement? If this was so, I should’ve tried rock climbing first; that would pose less danger than being involved with him. I would explore all of that later, preferably in the company of a very good therapist. Now, I had to drown that whirlwind inside of me or I would peel out of that park in tears. 

“Will my blood fade from your memory, in time?” I asked. 

Dracula’s gaze bore into mine with such intensity that I wondered how I managed not to fold under it. 

“If I don’t drink from you again, in a couple of weeks everything will be gone from here,” he said, tapping his temple with two fingers. Gone. Like I’d never existed. “But I’ll remember.”

His last words made my heart flutter and I sighed inwardly. I knew that feeling and it wasn’t the bond. It was by far more dangerous, which was why I had to get away from him. However, I was too far into this conversation to back down. 

“What does it taste like? Blood?”

His brows shot up for a second but then his features relaxed and only one eyebrow went up. 

“Not everyone tastes the same so it’s difficult to explain. Think of it like wine.” He made a flourish with his hand while he laced his arm with mine again, continuing our path downhill. “Yours tastes–”

“You’re not talking to me about how I taste,” I interrupted at once, acutely aware of how quickly he would be able to exploit that and turn it into a suggestive topic. “Do you need blood in order to survive or do you crave it?”

“Both. It’s not just the taste, Y/N. Although the taste is certainly appealing. It’s the sensation it provides,” as he spoke, a hand covered my own, fingers lightly stroking my skin. “The rush warm blood gives is unimaginable. Everything becomes hazy, as if I’m not here, in this world. Blood lulls me into dreams I haven’t been able to experience since I was human.” He sighed. “It’s a never ending chase for pleasure, for a glimmer of life … Constant desire.”

I almost opened my mouth to compare what he had described to hard drugs but it seemed reductive. I had never tried anything of the sort but I doubted it compared. To live with a blinding need at all times, that must be nearly unbearable. Dracula didn’t seem to think so, however. If his tongue licking his bottom lip was any indication, he was thoroughly infatuated by it. It wasn’t simply food or an addiction. I trailed my tongue inside my mouth, absently copying him.

“Would you like to taste mine?” He asked in a low voice.

I was so surprised at his question and how he managed to pick up on my thoughts, that I accidentally nipped my tongue in my effort to hide what I’d been doing.

We were only a few feet away from entering a path flanked by cherry blossom trees and that’s where I kept my eyes as I searched desperately for something to say. Although there were little to no flowers this time of year, there were still plenty of leaves secluding the path in stygian darkness. 

“I’ve sucked my fingers after papercuts enough times to know what blood tastes like to me,” I managed to say, only the slightest tremble marking my words.

“It won’t taste the same,” Dracula assured. 

I’d be a big fat liar if I said I wasn’t at least a tiny bit curious about that statement. A savage part of me wanted to take him up on his offer and drink from him like he’d done with me. I attributed that desire to the bond. But it was a rather rational part of me that suggested that this was a good way to lead him on until Zoe and I decided to advance with our plan; it soothed the worry over my unexpected curiosity about the taste of Count Dracula’s blood.

“What’s the catch?” 

“The catch?” He echoed.

Under the cherry blossoms, we were fully encased in darkness and I had trouble seeing much further than past the next row of trees. When I turned my head to look at Dracula, all I could see was the sharpness of his jaw and the accentuated profile of his nose.

“Yes, the downsides of drinking your blood, what’s written between the lines. That thing that’ll probably make me say ‘fucking hell’ when I find out about it and will, somehow, make you win.”

He laughed. 

“There is no catch.”

“Are you lying to me? I can’t tell in the dark.”

“I want you to trust me, Y/N. Lying would be counterproductive.”

A little too much to ask but I kept my mouth shut about it.

“How will it affect me?”

“It won’t have any effect unless you drink too much of it. How does a drop sound to you?” 

Hoping to God or whatever higher power listening that this wasn’t a mistake, I grabbed Dracula’s arm with both hands and forced us to stop walking. I blinked, trying to adjust my eyes to the dark and see his face above me. 

“ One drop,” I said, still blinking repeatedly until his features started to materialise. “Anymore than that and the date is over.”

The first thing I was able to make out was the carmine in his eyes, nearly glowing in the dark. I waited for the fear to come but when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, I knew all too well that had nothing to do with being frightened. For a moment those eyes merely watched me. Then Dracula rose his hand, deathly pale even in the dark, and opened his mouth to give me a glimpse of fangs that almost touched his bottom lip. He pressed his thumb to one of those fangs until a dark liquid seeped out of the small wound. I started raising my hand to catch the drop before gravity decided to act but Count Dracula was faster. His thumb touched my bottom lip, applying the slightest pressure like he was enticing me to open my mouth and taste his blood. 

My heart leapt to my throat. While the thought that it wasn’t too late to stop this occurred to me, I knew wholeheartedly that I didn't want to stop. I matched his gaze with my own, although his was filled with unspoken desire that made something lower in me clench. 

Another prodding brush of his thumb made my lips part. My tongue flicked out to steal a taste but it wasn’t enough. I inhaled deeply and tried again. This time, Dracula eased his finger inside my mouth and I automatically sucked it, allowing my tongue to lap up his blood and drawing out more. Although it was unnaturally cold and viscous, what surprised me the most was how little it tasted like iron. Instead I was met with a far sweeter flavour, although sharp. A smirk came over me as he hissed through his teeth and his upper lip curled. I wrapped my lips around his thumb one last time, making sure I hadn’t wasted anything, and then stepped back, pulling his hand away as I did so. 

“All done,” I told him, more than happy that I’d been able to elicit a reaction to get back at him for earlier. 

“You’re not making it easy to abide by your rules,” he muttered through his unnerving jagged teeth, flickering red eyes to my lips as he rubbed his thumb with his forefinger.

“Comes with the turf.”

Dracula swiftly closed the remaining distance between us. For a moment I thought he would ignore the same rules he had just cited but then his gaze shifted to the magnetic black I’d grown to appreciate. He smoothed my hair back, burrowing his hands in it and leaning closer. My breath caught in my chest. Shouldn’t have teased him , I berated myself without a twinge of regret. If he kissed me, that was it; I was done for. I held onto his arms, unsure if I was preparing myself to shove him away or to be embraced by him. 

Dracula whirled his head to the side, a vicious yet low growl coming out of his throat. As I turned to see what he was mad about, a harsh beam of light struck us, making me squint and raise a hand to shield my eyes.

“Oi! The park’s closing! You gotta leave!” Shouted a heavily accented voice from afar, holding the light’s source, a torch. “Now!”

“That’s rude,” Dracula grumbled, eyes slowly acquiring a tinge of carmine again.

“He’s just doing his job,” I said, although I agreed that the man could have approached this another way. The Count didn’t seem to hear me so I poked his ribs. “No eating the security guard,” I whispered.

That got his attention and he glanced at me with a frown. His irises were somewhere between black and red, giving it a funny shade of brown.

“Y/N, once again, I don’t eat people,” he bit out only so I could hear but he kept his stare past the lightbeam. “I drink them. Slowly and painfully if they deserve it. He seems to be volunteering, wouldn’t you say so?” His voice gained such a petrifying tone that I hoped I would never be at the receiving end of his anger.

“Nobody is volunteering, Dracula,” I yanked his blazer as I spoke. I clasped his hands and stroked his thumb, trying to make him focus on me and not on the guard. His gaze settled on me, more precisely on my neck. “You want me? Then don’t kill someone during a date.” 

Dracula straightened, gaining his regal posture back as an impassive look came over his features. How quickly he shifted from hungry, merciless creature to a perfect picture of civility startled me. I wasn’t sure which part of him was real. 

“I’m not saying it again! Leave!”

“We’re going, officer,” Dracula affirmed, sounding collected but when he spoke again the tinge of threat marked his words. “Put the light away from our faces.”

“Please,” I added. 

The man shone the beam on the field, past the cherry blossoms lane. Relief made me breathe easier and I entwined my arm with Dracula’s as a guarantee that he wouldn’t attack the man. Futile effort, probably, but I wasn’t letting him go just to watch him tear someone apart because we’d been interrupted.

We made our way back towards the guard. As we started turning to go up the hill, the guard called after us. Dracula and I turned to look at him, and I noticed that wasn’t the same man who had greeted us on the way in. 

“That gate is already closed,” he told us in a much more temperate manner. “The one by the river is still open. I’ll accompany you there.” He said something else under his breath that I didn’t catch but Dracula’s hiss told me he’d heard it. 

“Ignore him,” I muttered. 

“Not an easy task when you’re hungry. You’ll understand once you’re my bride.” He flashed me a smile that managed to be both feral and seductive. It was a thin line between the both for whatever concerned him and yet the combination didn’t seem so odd. 

As we followed the guard down the rest of the hill, Dracula’s words rang in my head. Once you’re my bride , he’d said with such certainty that only confirmed that I couldn’t do this; I couldn’t surrender like Renfield had suggested. Drinking his blood was a step too far, one I knew I couldn’t take back. My tongue swiped at my cheeks, looking for a residual taste of that rich liquid but it had faded. I had a temper, alright, but it had never driven me to actually consider murder. For the Count, that option came all too easily. I didn’t want to understand his thirst for blood if I had to kill in order to quench it.

Zoe’s pill simply had to work when it was done. But, first, Count Dracula would have to agree to accompany me to the wedding in Berkeley. I peered at Dracula and saw that he was still stabbing daggers with his eyes at the guard.

“What are your plans next week?” I asked, craning my neck to look at him. He spared me a glance but I insisted. “For our next date. You usually plan things, don’t you?”

“Yes but I’m not telling you. I enjoy surprising you.”

“And I enjoy your surprises,” I said and he threw me another glance, though this one was wry with humour. “More or less. You’re not subtle but you know that. If you’ve got something planned, cancel it.”

Then he turned his head to really look at me. 

“Why?” 

“A friend– no, that's a lie. Someone I know is getting married next weekend. I’d like you to come with me.”

“You’ve never invited me anywhere,” he remarked and then grinned. “Oh, is it working? Am I actually bending that iron will of yours that now you want to spend time with me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped. “You don’t stand a chance.” He cocked an eyebrow at that. “Renfield suggested I take you; I’m surprised he hasn’t told you about this,” I looked at the Count for confirmation and he shook his head in denial. “The bride and I… don’t get along, you could say. Basically, I want you to come with me because I’m petty when it comes to her and you’ll be excellent company to annoy her on the special day. ”

“So I’ll be” –he squinted– “ arm candy ?”

“Your words, not mine. Will you come?”

“Yes,” he said without thinking twice. Good. I didn’t know if he trusted me or if he simply didn’t regard me as dangerous but I would need more of that swift acquiescence so Zoe’s plan could work. “When is the wedding?”

“Next Saturday. It starts at dusk so I gather the sun will still be out. I have to be there for the ceremony but it’s fine if you arrive during the reception. I’ll find other ways to entertain myself until then,” I wiggled my brows at him jokingly and he glared at me. He didn’t need to know I intended to entertain myself with booze, and not the company of another man. “You’ll have to travel up north, by the way. The wedding’s at Berkeley Castle. I hope it’s not an issue.”

“A castle? Are we attending an aristocrat’s wedding?”

I laughed. 

“Evelyn wishes but no, she's not even remotely close to aristocracy. She rented the place, that’s all.” The look of disbelief on his face made me snort. “Welcome to the 21st century, people rent castles to get married and can divorce the next day if they want to.”

He muttered under his breath, something to do with this generation’s little regard for tradition. Considering he wanted nothing to do with christianity, I doubted Count Dracula held values about traditional marriage, so I took that as a critique towards the rented castle.

Ahead of us, the security guard waited with a hand on the gate, seemingly desperate for our departure so he could leave, too. If only he knew how lucky he’d been, he wouldn’t be scowling. Across the street stood the Queen’s House and past that, the imposing Old Royal Naval College.

“Let’s go over there,” I pointed at the College. “I’ve never seen it up close at night and I heard the grounds stay open until late. Will I ruin your plans for the rest of the night if we go?”

“I had a dinner reservation for you at 9pm but if you prefer–”

“I’m not hungry,” I interrupted. “There are tons of restaurants in London to choose from later if I change my mind. Come on.”

Count Dracula allowed me to drag him along. After passing the Queen’s House, we had a full view of the staggeringly large assembly of buildings that was the Old Royal Naval College. A thick veil of fog hung heavily on the riverbank, swallowing everything around us in its gloom. I’d expected to visit the place in all its splendor and to glimpse the glittering lights reflecting on the Thames but London’s weather wasn’t agreeable to my wishes. Still, it didn’t take away any of its beauty but added a weirdly inviting sense to it. In horror movies, people always died when they went into the big scary places, which was what Old Royal Naval College reminded me of right now. If I’d been alone, I would have turned back and left, but arm–in–arm with a vampire, it felt nothing short of appropriate. 

“It’s half museum, half university,” I explained as we entered through the East Gate. “Greenwich College holds a few courses here.”

At our left, two buildings etched in white stone rose over our heads, identical in their baroque architecture, each of them bearing a domed tower that faced towards a large symmetric square with a single sculpture in the center. A few yards beyond them stood the Queen’s House, centered between the buildings, with an unobstructed view of the River Thames, were it not for the heavy fog.

“I think most of this side is the museum,” I pointed at the buildings to our right, smaller in stature and much less imposing than the ones to our left but still fairly beautiful. “It used to be a training facility for the royal navy a long time ago so the museum is solely focused on navigation. You might like it, you’re very acquainted with life on water,” I teased.

“I’m staying away from ships for the next hundred years,” Dracula grumbled, making me laugh. He glared at me but I shrugged, not making any effort to mask my amusement. “You didn’t study here.”

“No. It was too far from my home to be an option but I liked coming here as a child and pretending I was–” I eyed him, suddenly feeling foolish. I’d almost told him I enjoyed pretending I was a princess. What would my childhood memories matter to him? He stared at me expectantly but I’d gotten a look at a plaque behind his head and immediately forgot about my concerns. “They reopened the Painted Hall!”

Dracula turned around to our left, walking slowly towards the sign hung next to a huge door carved in wood, leading inside the baroque tower from one of the symmetric courts. A photo was stamped next to the announcement that the restoration was done and I gazed at it, fighting the urge to close my eyes and try to recapture from memory the fresco ceiling and walls. 

“I’m definitely coming here tomorrow,” I told him, squeezing his arm so I wouldn’t jump up and down in excitement. “It was gorgeous before, so I can only imagine what it looks like now.”

Dracula smiled at me, eyes gleaming mischievously. 

“Does this door lead there?” 

“Yes,” I said, furrowing my brows when his smile grew bigger. He started pulling me up the steps. “What are you doing?”

“Going inside. The sun hampers my opportunity to come here along with everybody else, and I want to see it now.”

He placed a powerful hand on the door’s handle and I grabbed him, trying to pull him away from the door but he didn’t budge. 

“It’s closed. What’s with you and places you’re not supposed to go in?” I asked, looking around us to see if there was anyone watching us. The misty white blanket surrounding us made me strain my eyes to see past a couple of metres. If there was anyone around here, they wouldn’t be seeing much of anything. “V&A Museum, that night at my house and now this. Can’t you behave?”

“Nobody has fun if they behave all the time, Y/N,” he leaned his weight on the door. “I do my best to misbehave. You should try it more often.” 

A slight push with his shoulder and there was an audible crack before the door creaked open.  

“We’re going to get arrested,” I shrilled, staring at the open door in shock. I wasn’t sure if I was more surprised at how easily he’d opened it or that he actually did it.

“Aren’t you curious?” 

Of course I was. Much like the date at V&A, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but contrary to that, Dracula had just broken inside a building that was almost as old as him. No bribery, nothing; just because he felt like it. His words from earlier flashed in my mind. He took what he wanted and when he wanted, and apparently that applied to anything. A touch of inhuman strength combined with immortality and irreverence, that put the world at his feet to do as he liked. Although becoming his bride was out of the question, it made me wonder if it would be that terrible, living forever. Starting over. Being completely free, not bound by societal rules. Having to fear nothing. 

Dracula pushed the door open slowly and I flinched, waiting for an alarm to ring but I heard nothing except the howling of the wind. His arm flashed inside in a movement too fast for my brain to comprehend, then I heard another crack and a zzt! that sounded a lot like a lamp exploding. A small device now stood in his grip, crushed beyond recognition.

“No alarm,” he said, sticking its remains in his pocket. Well, that was taken care of.

I bit my lip, anxious to dart inside and have not only a glimpse of what I knew was stored inside but also of the freedom I guessed the Count experienced in doing forbidden things like this.

“We’re trespassing a world heritage site,” I said, trying to ground myself. “Do you have any idea the implications of this for me? At best, I lose my license to practise. At worst–”

“Quit worrying. It’ll be fun!”

“What about cameras?”

“They’re not on, or I would have heard them. Nothing can beat a vampire’s ears. The British should be less trusting and set up better security, then again, not much can stop me,” he grinned. My internal conflict must’ve been stamped on my face because he stepped towards me and grabbed my arms, leaning down to level his eyes with mine; with his height that didn’t mean much, I still had to tip my head back to look at him. “There is not a beating heart around here, except for yours. You won’t get caught, and if the police suddenly decide to come, I’ll get you out before they so much take a step out of the car. Nothing will happen to you.” When he spoke his voice was unusually gentle but still held a tone of persuasiveness. 

I exhaled harshly. When he put it like that...

“Fine,” I conceded. 

Dracula flashed me another grin and then stepped back, fully pushing the door open and gesturing for me to enter first. 

Soft lights shining from beneath the dark stone columns in the vestibule instantly drew my eyes up to the soaring domed ceiling, adorned with a myriad of intricate designs made of what appeared to be gold. I twirled, admiring the newly found brightness that I didn’t remember from my last visit two years ago. When I finally stopped twirling, I was so dizzy that the winged women painted on the wall above the door seemed to be moving. 

“Y/N,” the Count called, voice echoing from behind me. “Come see.”

He sounded as marveled as I felt, and I rushed up the staircase’s shallow steps. It took all of my self control to keep my eyes down, saving the surprise until I had gone all the way inside the Painted Hall. 

“Oh!” Such a simplistic sound for what I was met with but no other words would suffice. 

Tipping my head back until my neck hurt, I walked slowly trying to encompass all the contents of the fresco on the high ceiling. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and I yelped when I bumped into something. That something was Dracula. He smiled at me briefly before tugging me towards a row of red leather cushioned benches at the center of the room. We lied down side by side, and for once I wasn’t worried about being so close to him. 

The shades of maroon and yellow, muted reds and blues, and blissful white and grey were so easily distinguishable now, even in the little light coming from small spotlights on the floor. Years ago they all appeared grey and dingy, uncared for. But everything seemed so… loved now. The warriors depicted in the fresco were renewed with strength and fierceness, and the figures on the losing side all the more desperate and helpless before them. 

“I feel so small,” I whispered as to not break the spell of wonder. “Do you?”

His only response was a grunt, and I chose to take that as yes. 

We stood in silence, simply gazing in awe at the masterpiece above us. I knew from my previous visit that the walls in the long hall were also painted but we were busy trapped in the ceiling’s beauty to pay any attention to the rest. Slowly, I became aware that high windows allowed a milky light caused by the fog to seep in, casting timeless shadows inside the room, detaching it from existence and wrapping me in a blanket of tranquility. 

I wasn’t sure how much time passed but when Dracula finally spoke, I was catapulted out of heaven back to the world around me.

“Britain’s Sistine Chapel.”

My chin grazed his shoulder when I turned to look at him. He laid with his hands over his chest, eyes intently focused up. The men in the paintings seemed chaste compared to him, even in their battle stance. 

“I’ve never been to the Sistine Chapel.”

“Me neither. I wager it wouldn’t be a pleasant stroll for me, with all those crucifixes ruining the place,” he snorted. “I’ve only seen it through the eyes of other people but this” –he made a wide gesture with his arm– “is fair competition.”

I was still staring at him. His sinuous profile, the shape of his mouth when he spoke, the shallow wrinkles on his temples, the sharp line from his jaw to his neck. But I really knew I was in big trouble when his voice reverberated inside the room and coalesced in my chest with warmth, causing my heartbeat to increase. 

Damn this stupid bond. A few days ago I could easily differentiate the bond from my feelings but now I wasn’t sure where the bond ended and my true self began. Had to be the bond acting up, and the opulent surroundings working its magic; had to be .

“Is there anyone else like you out there?” I questioned, seeking to explore the subject to remind me of his monstrosity. I’d already put on my courtroom face when he looked at me.

“Like me? Impossible,” he rolled his eyes as if he was baffled at the suggestion. “All this can’t be replicated easily, I imagine,” he swiped a hand over himself, smiling deviously. “Not to mention my phenomenal wits and–”

“Shut up,” I said, shaking with laughter. “You're the only person that can make cockiness charming, I swear.” Realising I had just paid him a compliment, which was not at all what I intended when I began this conversation, I hurriedly continued. “I meant to ask if there are more vampires.”

“No,” his smile diminished at the word. “As far as I know I’m the only one that still remains. I’ve tried making more, over the course of decades–” he sighed, “but all of them maintained only a shadow of their former selves. Husks that paid no mind to the world around them, except to feed– they didn’t possess much intelligence,” he paused, apparently in thought. “I was successful once but this… progeny of mine… proved to be too emotional to be of any use. So I disposed of him.”

The nonchalance in which he spoke about killing the very thing he’d made caused alarm bells to start ringing in my head, not to mention how worried I suddenly became for myself if he turned me into a vampire against my will. Would all of me disappear and be substituted by mindless hunger if he failed? What bothered me the most weren’t these remarks, though.

“Too emotional?” I asked, watching him intently.

“Yes, tiresome things– emotions,” disgust marred his words as he waved a hand. “They’re distracting, which was the case with Johnny, you see. He–”

“You’re so full of shit.”

He set his jaw and turned his head with leaden slowness to face me. If he was trying to intimidate me, it didn’t work. I smiled confidently at him, like I had just heard a judge announcing a winning verdict for the defense.

“What did you say?”

“You are full of shit,” I repeated, marking each syllable. “You expect me to believe that you’ve been trying to make a companion for centuries but don’t have any feelings?”

“I don’t expect you to believe anything. Those are hard facts.”

“Are they?” I challenged and Dracula narrowed his eyes. “It sounds to me that you’re lonely, Count. Why else go to such efforts to make someone else like you? Someone to share eternity with, someone that’ll understand everything–”  I remembered how I felt earlier at the park, that sense of unspoken comprehension and how much it hurt having my thoughts hurled at me by him. I forced myself to lay a hand on his cheek. “Someone that will see the world through your eyes.”

The thin line that his mouth had become softened. My victory only lasted a second before an insensible mask assumed his features.

“Darling,” he said, placing a hand upon mine. His eyes were blank, like he was seeing through me. “If you need to believe that I’m capable of feeling something to make eternal life in my company seem bearable then, be my guest. Honestly, I expected you were smarter than that.”

The coldness and cutting tone in his voice made my confidence fault for a moment. His denial to set Renfield free as I begged for him was proof that he could be an insensitive bastard. Maybe the Painted Hall’s beauty made me imagine things and seek things I couldn’t have. But I hadn’t hallucinated the painful sorrow in his eyes when he spoke of his wife only a few nights ago.

I smiled again because I knew something about him that he couldn’t hide behind his big scary vampire pose; Dracula learnt to see past my façade but he wasn’t the only with that skill.

“I am smarter than that,” I told him, sliding my hand from his and staring up at the ceiling with newly found eyes. 

Dracula stared at me for another moment but I resisted him, making conversation about the gods, kings and queens portrayed in the fresco until he lied down again and listened in gravely silence as I rambled about the details I remembered from my last tour. 

Not long after that he stated with no small dose of indifference that he had to take me home because his hunger had escalated and couldn’t spend any more time in my presence if he was to respect our deal.

I was still smiling triumphantly when I went to sleep that night.

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