#and if you told me the truth i’d be like ‘wow miles does look like he could be either of those options!’ does anyone get me

[milimeters-morales]

does miles look androgynous (even just a little) to anyone else or am i alone in this vast desert.

[nerdzzone]

Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part One

----

Part Two

25.12.19

When I woke up in the morning, it took me a moment to figure out where I was and why the pillow my head was resting on was so hard and warm. Once I'd figured it out - that my head was not actually on a pillow, but on Chris' chest - I almost had to roll my eyes. Of course it was. Of course we'd ended up all cuddled together. Because life was just one big romantic comedy, right?

I sighed quietly, silently praying that Chris wasn't awake yet as I slowly slid myself away from him. He didn't stir until I was sitting on the edge of the bed so I was hopeful that he hadn't been aware of the position we were in.

"G'morning," he greeted me, rubbing his eyes as the sound of excited children echoed down the hallway. "What time is it?"

I quickly checked my phone on the nightstand before answering.

"Only seven o'clock," I told him before yawning. "But it sounds like everyone is up and bouncing off the walls already."

"I'm not surprised," Chris smiled. "They've probably torn into all the presents by now."

I laughed and nodded my head, knowing it was a good possibility.

"It probably wasn't super smart to leave Scott out there guarding them by himself," I pointed out. "Not after he spent half the night shaking his own presents trying to guess what was inside."

"Oh, it definitely wasn't," Chris agreed. "He was always the one who ruined things by finding his presents early and getting us all in trouble."

"Well, I should go see what they're up to or if anything can be salvaged," I smiled as I pulled a sweater on over my pyjamas. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be out in a minute," he assured me. I headed to the door, but stopped when I heard his voice again. "Hey, Whitney? Merry Christmas."

I smiled even wider as that happy, familiar Christmas morning feeling washed over me.

"Merry Christmas, Chris."

With that, I hurried out the door, trying not to focus too much on how content I felt and how right it seemed to wake up in his arms on Christmas morning.

-

When I got to the kitchen, I was surprised to see that everyone else was already awake, despite how early it was.

"Good morning," Lisa greeted me as I wandered into the kitchen where all the adults were congregating. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, everyone," I smiled before they all repeated it back to me. "Did I miss all the fun?"

"No, of course not," Carly assured me. "We've managed to keep them away from the presents so far, but I'm not sure how much longer we can hold them off."

"We're still waiting for Chris though," Scott pointed out as I grabbed a clean mug and headed to the fresh pot of coffee on the counter. "Have you seen him? He disappeared not long after we went to bed and never came back."

"Oh, yeah, he's in his room," I answered mindlessly as I filled my mug. "We ended up sleeping together last night."

I heard Scott almost choke on his coffee and noticed the sudden silence in the room, but it wasn't until Lisa spoke that I realized what I'd said.

"Whitney, honey," she said, speaking softly. "What do you mean?"

"Oh my god, no! Not like that!" I rushed to explain as my cheeks grew hot. "We literally slept together, like as in slept next to each other. Chris came into his room looking for a sweater because he was cold and had given away all his spare blankets so I offered for him to share the bed with me. That's all, I swear."

There were knowing smiles amongst the group and I wasn't entirely sure that they all believed me which made things even more embarrassing as I wouldn't want them to think I'd talk so candidly about things like that with Chris' mother of all people. Before I had a chance to continue desperately defending myself though, a voice from the doorway interrupted.

"What are you swearing about?" He asked, leaning against the doorway. "Why do I feel like I missed something good?"

Again, I was ready to explain, but someone beat me to it.

"Whitney was just giving us the update," Scott informed his older brother as he matched his smirk. "She was telling us how you two slept together."

Chris' eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment before he relaxed and let out a chuckle.

"Well, that's not exactly how I would have phrased it," he informed the group with a shrug. "But I suppose it is accurate. We slept and we were together."

"I just misspoke," I groaned. "I haven't had any coffee yet, I wasn't thinking clearly."

"A little Freudian slip?" Carly suggested as she joined in on the teasing, but I simply rolled my eyes.

"Chris probably wishes that was a peak into my subconscious desires, but I'm afraid not. Just a clear sign that I am not a morning person."

"I think we'll all need plenty of coffee to deal with the energy in that living room," Lisa interjected, putting an end to the discussion despite Chris' protests of my claim. "But we should probably go and join them before they open all the presents, whether they belong to them or not."

We all murmured in agreement and everyone topped up whatever beverage they were drinking before we headed to the living room to start the Christmas fun.

-

"Mama!" Grayson shouted as we entered the room. "Look! Santa came!"

"Of course he did," I smiled at the children. "You've all been good this year so it's no surprise."

They all nodded and agreed enthusiastically except Ethan who, now that he was almost ten, had figured out the truth. He was a good kid though and a loving older brother so he kept the secret, quietly watching them with a knowing smile now that he was finally in on the joke with the adults.

"Can we open them?" Stella asked, bouncing up and down from holding in her excitement. "We've been waiting for so long!"

"I wouldn't say so long," Scott chuckled. "Since it's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet!"

"But, yes, you can open them," Carly informed her children. "Just be careful and don't rush."

There was a flurry of activity as the kids dove into the presents, organizing whose was whose before settling down next to their little piles. I took a step back and sat on the couch next to Lisa, letting Chris sit on the floor behind Grayson. It was his Christmas after all and it felt right that he should be the one helping him open presents. Plus, this way I got a perfect view of the joyful grin that was plastered on his face. A grin that was perfectly replicated by his father behind him making my heart clench at the sight of them together like this.

I watched from my spot on the couch as the gifts were opened one by one and soaked in every giggle and shriek of glee from the children. Grayson was on top of the world and so grateful for each and every gift, it was delightful to see. Given our financial security, especially for Chris, it would have been easy to spoil him, but it made me incredibly proud to see how gracious he was.

However, one of the last gifts he wasn't so grateful to receive. It was from me and I knew there was a chance it wouldn't be his favourite, but his response was far worse than I could have imagined.

It was a decent sized box and he tore off the wrapping paper eagerly, intrigued by what could be inside. When he revealed that it was a foot and a half tall electronic T-Rex, his first reaction was one of amazement.

"Wow! A dinosaur!"

"Yeah," I smiled. "Take him out and see what he can do."

Chris set to work helping Grayson open the box before glancing up at me.

"Does he need batteries?"

"I put some in already," I assured him. "I knew he'd want to see it right away so I thought it would be easier."

He nodded as Grayson placed the giant T-Rex on the floor and looked at me expectantly.

"There's a button on his back, press it."

Everyone watched as he poked around until he got the right spot and the dinosaur came to life. He roared and his head moved around, but as the older kids cheered and clapped, Grayson burst into tears.

"Oh, dear..." Lisa smiled as she watched her grandson leap into his father's arms.

Everyone was chuckling at his dramatic reaction as Grayson buried his face in Chris' neck.

"Awe, buddy, I'm sorry!" I apologized. "Did it scare you?"

"Yes! He's scary!" Grayson's response was muffled by Chris' body and hard to understand through his sobs. "I don't wike it, Mama!"

I smiled at the little speech impediment that he inherited from his father - much like the one his cousin, Miles, had - but I did feel bad for how genuinely afraid he was.

"I'm sorry, baby. We can take the batteries out, okay? Then he won't be able to move."

The dinosaur had stopped moving on his own before I spoke and Grayson moved his head from where he was hiding his face, nodding as he did so.

"Yes, please."

"I bought it a while ago, thinking it was the perfect gift and then last week, he suddenly decided that T-Rexes were mean and I thought it might not go down so well," I admitted to the adults as I stretched forward to pick up the dinosaur and take the batteries out. "It's such a shame though, I think he's adorable. If you press the button on his tail, a little song plays and he does a little wiggle dance."

Chris smirked at me as he rubbed our still sniffling son's back.

"Why don't you take him home? Sounds like you might enjoy playing with him when Grayson isn't around."

He was making fun of me, I knew he was, but I didn't take the bait.

"You know what? I might just do that."

Chris opened his mouth to most likely make another teasing comment, but Ethan interrupted him.

"If Grayson doesn't want the T-Rex, can I have it?"

"I think you got enough new toys this morning," Ethan's dad warned him. "Don't be greedy."

"We'll let Grayson keep him for now," Chris agreed. "He might get used to him after a while if he plays with him without the batteries."

I passed the toy in question back to Chris and Grayson cowered away, whimpering against his dad's chest.

"Just leave it for now," I suggested. "We can try it again later when the initial shock has worn off."

Chris nodded and put the dinosaur behind his back and out of sight.

-

The rest of the gift opening went by smoothly and no more children were traumatized. Once every gift that was under the tree had been opened, we left the kids to test out their new things while the adults headed to the kitchen to start making breakfast. It was quickly decided that pancakes would be the easiest thing to mass produce for our large group of hungry people and while Lisa, Carly and I started mixing up a few bowls of batter, Chris and Scott whipped out the orange juice and champagne for mimosas.

An hour later everyone was very full and we were two bottles of champagne down.

"So, Whitney," Scott started as he loaded up the dishwasher. "Are you staying here tonight too or are you planning on making us spend half the day shovelling the driveway for you?"

His tone was teasing, but as I looked out the window at the deep blanket of snow that covered the ground outside, I was torn. I didn't want to outstay my welcome by staying another night, but I also didn't want to make the Evans family spend their entire Christmas day shovelling snow and there was no way that I'd be able to do it by myself.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I wasn't planning on staying another night, but it does look like there's a lot of snow out there..."

"Just stay," Chris shrugged. "Even if we can get your car down the driveway, the roads are probably terrible."

"There's no need for you to rush off," Lisa agreed. "Stay another night and then you can just relax and enjoy the day."

"And you can drink if you're not driving home," Scott pointed out with a grin. "Chris and I stocked up on wine, beer, whiskey and gin, these mimosas were just the start of the party."

I couldn't help, but laugh at Scott's reasoning as I nodded my head.

"Alright, I'll stay. If you really don't mind, Chris?"

"Of course not," Chris assured me. "We're happy to have you."

"Great!" Scott grinned. "I'm glad that's settled, I think this calls for another round of drinks!"

Chris cheered and jumped up to help him while the rest of us smiled and shook our heads at their antics.

-

The day was spent soaking in quality family time, watching the kids enjoy their new toys and indulging in lots of food and drink. We called Chris' dad and my parents and even had an unexpected phone call from my Uncle Rob. He spent more time talking to Chris than me, his own niece, but it was nice to hear his voice even if he made sure to get a dig in about me confessing my supposedly obvious feelings to Chris.

Sitting around the table, eating a delicious meal with Chris' loving and welcoming family was quite a contrast to how I expected to spend the day and I was very grateful that Chris had included me. Grayson seemed to appreciate it too and he made his enjoyment clear as we tucked him into bed once all the fun and feasting was done.

Chris sat on the floor leaning against Grayson's nightstand, reading him his favourite bedtime story while I laid on the bed next to him and rubbed his back. He was drifting off by the time the story was finished, but he was fighting it desperately as he spoke again.

"I'm happy, Mama," he told us, his words muffled as he nuzzled into his pillow.

Chris put his hand over his heart as he mouthed an 'awe' at me and I smiled.

"You're happy?" I clarified quietly, my smile growing as he nodded. "I'm glad to hear that, baby."

"I like that you're here," he mumbled. "Daddy should come home with us too."

My heart clenched at that request as my smile faltered. I knew it was only a matter of time until Grayson paid more attention to the fact that his time was divided between two homes, but I wasn't ready to deal with it just yet.

"Maybe Daddy could come for a sleepover sometime," I suggested, stroking his hair back out of his face, but that wasn't all he wanted.

"He should come all the time."

I was never great at hiding my emotions and from the way Chris was watching me, I assumed my distress at Grayson's comments was written all over my face and I was grateful when he jumped into the conversation.

"But what about Dodger?"

Dodger's ears perked up from his spot at the end of the bed, but he settled again when he realized that Chris wasn't calling for him.

"He can come too," was Grayson's answer to that dilemma, but Chris had a response at the ready.

"C'mon, you think Dodger would have enough space in your Ma's apartment?" He asked. "He needs a big house like this to run around in!"

So then we could all just stay here would be the logical comeback to that, but it seemed our sleepy little guy was too tuckered out from the excitement to argue. He let out a little sigh of defeat, but said no more. We stayed quiet for a few minutes until his breathing shifted and he was soundly asleep.

Chris offered me his hand to help me climb over Grayson without waking him up and, after whispering a quiet request to Dodger to keep our boy safe, he led me out of the room.

"You okay?"

The question came as soon as Grayson's door was pulled to and we were in the hallway.

"Yeah, of course," I nodded, forcing a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Chris shot me a look that clearly showed his disbelief.

"You looked pretty downhearted in there."

"I just worry," I shrugged. "I don't want our situation to upset him and I know he's going to notice it more as he gets older."

"He'll be fine," Chris assured me, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder comfortingly. "He's got so much love in his life, he won't even notice that his family is a little different."

I wasn't convinced. He was obviously already noticing or he wouldn't have questioned it only moments before. I didn't want to start such a delicate, potentially tense conversation at the end of such a happy day though so I forced a more convincing smile onto my face.

"You're right," I agreed. "But I wouldn't be a mom if I didn't worry."

"Well, there's no time for worryin' on Christmas!" Chris claimed, followed by a grin as he dragged me off towards the kitchen. "What can I get you? Another wine? Maybe some gin? I might have some tequila kickin' around here somewhere..."

"No! No tequila!" I laughed. "Gin would be great, thanks."

Chris nodded and set to work mixing our beverages for the evening before we went to the living room to rejoin his family and I did my best to push any worries about letting Grayson down out of my mind.

-

After the kids were all in bed, the rest of the evening was spent playing games and sharing drinks. It was heartwarming, wholesome family fun and I was so glad that Scott had encouraged me to stay as the thought of rushing home to my cold, empty apartment wasn't at all appealing.

The only strange thing about the evening was Chris. We were teamed up for most of the games and it was quite amazing how in tune with each other we were as we won everything by a landslide. We'd been friends for a long time and knew each other very well so it was unsurprising to me that we had so much success, but the teasing comments that came from a rather drunk Scott implied other reasons than friendship for our harmony. I scoffed and rolled my eyes every time he cracked a joke about us, but Chris seemed to love it. He was a few drinks in and probably just feeling a little goofy, but the grin on his face after every suggestive comment sparked an odd feeling in my stomach.

It was around ten o'clock when everyone except Chris, Scott and I decided to go to bed. We bid them goodnight and Chris went to top up our drinks before settling back onto the couch beside me. By this time, I was definitely feeling it. I wasn't drunk, but I knew this drink would have to be my last as the flush of my cheeks and the happy, fuzzy feeling in my brain was telling me that it was time to wind it down for the night.

However, as Chris handed me another gin and soda, settled on the couch next to me, placed his drink on the end table beside him and pulled my feet into his lap, my mind suddenly felt surprisingly sharp.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a giggle slipping from my lips.

"Releasing some tension."

As he answered, he began a slow massage of my left foot and I couldn't help, but smile at how wonderful it felt.

"Releasing?" Scott snorted a laugh. "Sure, a foot rub is known for getting rid of tension, not making it worse."

Chris smirked at what Scott was insinuating, but seemed unbothered by it.

"Don't be jealous," he teased, but now it was my turn to smirk.

"Of what?" I questioned. "This foot rub? It's not that great, Scott."

Scott laughed as Chris gasped a tad over dramatically.

"Not that great? I offer you a free foot rub and you can't even be fuckin' grateful?"

Chris shook his head, but the smile on his face told me that he wasn't really offended. He did stop massaging my feet though and I whined in protest as he picked up his drink.

"A mediocre foot rub is better than nothing," I pouted. "Keep going."

Chris sipped his whiskey, the smile on his face morphing back into a smirk as he shook his head again, but he did let his hand rest over my ankles and I was happy for even that tiny bit of contact.

Scott changed the subject to some viral video he saw the other day and Chris laughed and chatted along as he absentmindedly let his hand drift up my shin, underneath the loose pyjama pants that I'd changed into shortly after we put Grayson to bed.

My mind was instantly taken back to another time when we'd shared such gentle touches. A time when his lips followed his fingers as they traced kisses up from my ankle all the way to the lacy edge of my underwear. A time when he'd then proceeded to pull that underwear off with his teeth before returning his face back to a very sensitive area.

"Whitney, have you seen it?"

Scott's question snapped me out of my racy daydream. I felt my cheeks flush with colour as I forced my gaze away from Chris' hand over to Scott, reminding myself that even though the look on Chris' face would make it seem otherwise, he couldn't possibly know what I was just thinking of.

"Uh, no, I haven't," I admitted, sipping my drink to try to cool myself down even though it was becoming apparent to me that I needed to slow down my alcohol consumption. "All I seem to watch these days is Paw Patrol."

Chris barked out a laugh and nodded.

"So much Paw Patrol," he agreed. "The kid's obsessed."

"Chase is on the case!" I giggled before changing my voice slightly. "Rubble on the double!"

"Oh my god," Scott laughed, a horrified look on his face. "We need to get you out more."

I shrugged as Chris continued to trace patterns on my shins.

"That's the life of a mom."

"Yeah, but what about when he's with Chris? You must have some sort of life then."

"Scott."

Chris' voice was harsh and warning as what Scott was implying could be taken as offensive, but I wasn't bothered.

"It's fine," I assured him. "I know I'm lame. I don't have much of my own life, I don't really know anyone around here."

"You have Allison," Chris pointed out. "You've mentioned her a lot. She's your friend, right?"

He was referring to my one and only friend in Massachusetts. She was also a photographer and we'd met at a camera store when I first moved here. She'd asked me a question about a new brand of film and we'd ended up having coffee to exchange tips. She realized quickly that I didn't know many people in town and had taken me under her wing.

"She is," I nodded. "But she has three kids of her own and she's married so she doesn't have weeks where she's child free like I do. We hang out when we can, but usually it's with all the kids, not like quality 'girl time'."

"I didn't know that," Chris frowned. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't feel bad for me." I nudged him with my foot. "I have plenty of friends, they're just in LA. I'm happy here."

"I'll take you out for drinks one day," Scott promised. "Even if you're happy, everyone needs to let their hair down a little bit sometimes."

"That would be fun," I smiled, tossing back the last of my drink. "But for now, I think I've let my hair down enough for today. It's time for me to get to bed before all these drinks go to my head."

I slid my feet off of Chris' lap and slowly stood up as he looked up at me.

"Are you cool if I bunk with you again tonight?"

"Of course," I nodded. "Just sneak in quietly if you two stay up too late."

"I'm ready to crash already," Scott informed us. "So, we won't be up much later."

"Okay. Well, goodnight boys," I waved as I headed towards the door. "Thank you for a lovely day."

They chorused a goodnight back to me before I walked down the hall.

-

I was just coming out of the en suite in Chris' bedroom after brushing my teeth when Chris strolled into the room.

"Hey," I smiled. "Ready for bed already?"

"Scott wasn't lying," he returned my smile. "He was half asleep by the time you made it down the hall."

I laughed as I crawled into bed and settled against the pillows.

"Well, it has been a busy day."

Chris agreed as he grabbed his pyjama pants and headed to the bathroom. I picked up my phone from where I left it on the nightstand, turned off the lamp on my side of the bed and answered a few text messages from my family, figuring I may as well wait the few minutes it would take Chris to get ready for bed before I attempted to get any sleep. When Chris reappeared, I locked my phone again, put it back on the nightstand and snuggled down under the blankets, trying not to stare too much at his chiselled torso. He wasted no time turning off the lamp on his side as well before slipping in next to me, shivering dramatically as he pulled the blankets up over his chest.

"It's so freakin' cold tonight."

I snorted a laugh, shaking my head even though I knew he wouldn't be able to see me until our eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Maybe if you put on a shirt you wouldn't feel it so much."

"Honestly," Chris started, the smirk evident in his tone despite his face still being hidden in shadow. "Usually, I just sleep naked so these pants are for your benefit."

I felt my cheeks flush as the words 'then by all means, take them off' were on the tip of my tongue. I forced them out of my mind as a long forgotten tingle rolled through my body and I focused on answering him.

"My point was that a t-shirt would provide you with extra warmth," I explained. "So, your point that you usually wear less clothing makes no sense."

The bed shifted slightly as Chris chuckled.

"Well, I can think of another thing that could provide some extra warmth."

"What?"

I felt my heart rate pick up, the blood rushing through my ears so fast that I hardly heard myself answer him as I wondered if he could possibly be implying what it seemed like he was implying.

"You." His voice was low, the same seductive tone he'd used all those years ago, and I felt my mouth go dry. "Come give me a cuddle."

For a moment, I thought I was a lot drunker than I'd realized and that I was hallucinating or in some kind of lucid dream, but that thought brought me to a different realization.

"Chris!" I whispered, my tone scolding and accusatory. "You're drunk!"

A burst of laughter came from the other side of the bed and I quickly shushed him, knowing Grayson was asleep in the room above us.

"I'm not drunk, I promise," Chris assured me as his raucous laughter came under control. "I just thought it was worth a shot. It's nice to have a little cuddle with a beautiful woman sometimes."

I felt another flush of heat run through me, but I rolled my eyes and, as I had the night before, I took a pillow and placed it between us, drawing a clear line in the sand even if that hadn't worked out so well the last time.

"Goodnight, Chris."

"Goodnight, Whitney."

I rolled over, closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

I did try. I really, really did.

But after almost ten minutes of thoughts whirring through my head, I knew it was hopeless and I turned back to face Chris. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I could see well enough to know that he was laying on his back so I carefully moved the pillow that I'd placed between us and slowly slid over towards him. I felt him tense so I knew he was awake, but he didn't question what I was doing so I continued until my head was on his chest and my arm was draped over his stomach. He stayed perfectly still, just long enough for me to start second guessing myself before he shifted slightly to put his arm around me.

We stayed like that, holding each other in silence, and I had to admit that Chris was right. It was nice to have someone to cuddle with. The physical contact was filling a hole in my touch-starved heart and I tried not to think about how fleeting of a moment it was or how things would be back to normal in the light of day. There was a strange ache in my heart at that thought and I knew I needed to get out of my head.

"Chris?" My voice was soft, just in case he'd drifted off in the last few minutes, but when he tightened his grip on me, I knew he was still awake. "Thank you for inviting me today."

"Of course." He squeezed a little tighter. "I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner."

"It's fine," I assured him, letting my hand lazily trace patterns on his skin. "You're under no obligation, you're allowed your time with Grayson without me."

"It's not about obligation. I'd never want you to spend Christmas alone even if Grayson wasn't in the picture."

"I was really dreading it."

My admission made me feel vulnerable as I'd spent so long trying to pretend that I wasn't bothered by the idea of a lonely holiday, but Chris didn't seem surprised.

"Really?" He questioned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The crying onto your steering wheel didn't give that away at all."

"Shut up," I mumbled, turning my face into his chest to hide my smile at his teasing. "I'm just trying to express my gratitude for your kindness."

"No gratitude is needed. It's been my pleasure having you here today and Grayson loved it."

He kissed the top of my head after he'd finished speaking and almost reflexively, I found myself stretching up and placing a soft kiss of my own against his collarbone. It felt intimate and the moment hung heavy between us. It felt right to me, but I knew instantly that I'd crossed a line. A comforting kiss on the top of my head was one thing, but what I'd done, kissing his bare chest, was inappropriate. My cheeks burned as I tilted my head up to look at him, meeting his eyes as they looked down at me. His expression was unreadable so I opened my mouth to apologize only to be completely shocked when he pressed his head forward and his lips against mine.

The shock quickly morphed into a feeling that could only be described as euphoria. There was something distantly familiar about the way his mouth moved on mine, but it felt strange and new as it wasn't exactly as I'd remembered - and I had spent more time than I'd want to admit reliving the last time we'd shared a kiss like this.

It wasn't until he pressed his tongue against my lips, in an attempt to deepen the kiss, that I snapped out of my daze.

"Chris, wait," I breathed out as I pulled away and stared up at him, my cheeks now flushed much more from excitement than embarrassment. "We shouldn't do this."

"Says who?"

The little voice in my head telling me that I'm about to ruin everything that we've worked hard to create. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but as he smirked down at me and licked his lips as if he was preparing for what was to come, I found myself incapable of logic and reason.

"Doesn't matter."

Chris hardly had time to acknowledge my answer before I dove back in for another kiss, moving to a more comfortable position as I straddled his waist.

He completely overwhelmed my senses. The inescapable scent of him surrounding me, the feel of his strong body between my thighs and the soft little sighs of enjoyment that he kept making every time our lips parted for us to take a breath. None of it was doing anything to ease the ache that was growing between my legs and my hands gripped into the sheets where they rested just above his shoulders as I pulled back to look down at him. I needed to see his face to remind myself this was really happening and who it was really happening with as it still felt so unreal.

Chris smiled up at me, his lips looking plumper already, and let his hands settle on my hips to keep me steady.

"You okay?"

I nodded and leaned down to peck his lips again before answering.

"I've never been better."

Chris' smile only widened at that confirmation and he moved his hands down to cup my bum, pressing my hips forward and giving me a moment of friction that I'd been desperately craving. I pressed myself up, pulling my upper body away from him as a gasp fell from my lips and my eyes squeezed shut. I was embarrassingly aroused from a few mere minutes of kisses, but it had been a very long time since I'd had any physical contact with a man and my body was already on fire.

I rocked my hips against the toned muscles of his abdomen, soaking in the pleasure that was radiating through me and I was debating whether it would be rude of me to continue until I reached the release that was quickly building inside me. Clearly, Chris was just as intuitive as I remembered as he let out a groan and effortlessly flipped us over so he was on top.

"Not like that," he smirked. "I've been thinking about this for too long, it's not happening like that."

I felt another flush of embarrassment as he could obviously tell what I'd been thinking about doing, but I nodded in agreement.

"But if this is really happening, we need to be quiet," I reminded him. "Everyone's sleeping."

"They're all upstairs, they won't hear," he assured me. "And Scott's on the other side of the house."

He was right, we'd be fine as long as we kept ourselves under control, but it didn't matter anyway as all my doubts disappeared when his lips pressed against my neck. I let my hands slide around his waist, resting on his toned back while his lips continued their trail down my neck and stretched the neck line of my shirt to expose my shoulder. His lips locked onto one spot just above my collarbone, sucking and nipping until I was sure there would be a bruise there in the morning.

"Chris," I gasped out, digging my fingernails into his back. "Don't leave a mark."

He backed off a bit, kissing gently against the now sensitive skin.

"It'll be easy to hide," he assured me. "And if I remember correctly, you enjoyed a few bites here and there..."

He opened his mouth to dig his teeth into my shoulder and an image flashed into my mind. A memory of me, bent over with Chris' thumb on my clit as the two fingers he had inside me stroked a particularly delicate spot. He'd placed a soft kiss on the cheek of my bum before sinking his teeth into my skin, sending me over the edge.

I couldn't help, but moan from the combination of the memory and the sensation of his teeth in my shoulder as my hips pressed up against his. Chris seemed to be spurred on by that action as he ground his hips against mine and quickly let his hands slide down to the bottom of my shirt. He lifted it up and for a moment I was lost in the bliss of the sensations he was providing, but as my shirt was raised just past my belly button, I froze.

"Wait!"

My voice firm and demanding and he immediately responded, stopping his actions and looking up to meet my eyes.

"What's wrong?"

I bit my bottom lip as I pondered how to voice my concerns. If I didn't say anything, there was a chance that we could get through this without drawing any attention to it, but I couldn't help but think it was better to point it out than have Chris notice on his own.

"I just..." I breathed out, trying to figure out how to articulate my thoughts. "I just look different now."

"What?"

Chris pulled back even further, looking down at me with genuine confusion in his eyes and my cheeks burned as I tried to puzzle out how to explain my feelings in a way that didn't make me look shockingly insecure.

"Since I had Grayson, since the last time we did this," I clarified, my cheeks burning as I brought my flaws to his attention. "I look different. Like, I have stretch marks and my boobs aren't as perky as they used to be."

Even in the dark shadows of the room, I could see Chris' jaw clench as it did when he was annoyed and trying to bite his tongue. Panic flooded through me as I wished I'd kept my mouth shut, but his next words astounded me.

"Get outta here," he huffed. "You think I care about that?"

I dropped my gaze to the tattoos on his chest as I regretted ever opening my mouth.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Lots of men probably would."

Chris moved back, slowly sliding his body down, away from mine and I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop him and hold him against me as long as I could, but I was powerless to do anything, but watch. My heart sank, thinking he was going to roll off of me any minute now, but then he stopped. His face was level with my lower stomach and turned his eyes back towards my face.

"This body," he started, placing a kiss on my stomach. "This stomach, these stretch marks." He kissed the faint lines that were now barely visible on my skin despite how vibrant they were in my mind. Then he continued up, lifting my shirt as he went until it was resting above my breasts, my nipples hard from the chill in the air and the anticipation I was feeling. "These boobs." He kissed and nipped at the delicate skin, tracing all the way along until he captured a nipple in his mouth, teasing it briefly with his tongue. "They changed because you gave me my son, the greatest gift you could have given me. I have nothing, but gratitude for that and you're still the most fuckin' beautiful woman I've ever seen."

He was exaggerating. I knew he was exaggerating. He saw and worked with Hollywood's most elite actresses and models, there was no chance that I was even close to the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. But he managed, again, to push all doubts from my mind as his lips set to work, this time focusing on my left nipple while he shifted his weight and freed a hand to stroke and pinch the right.

They were sensitive, they always had been, and the way that Chris was working them right now was almost too much. My head fell back and my hands dropped to the sheets as I tried to focus on enjoying the sensations and not immediately demanding for Chris to move lower, to give me more, to touch me where I wanted to be touched with increasing need. He was always paying attention though and before I even needed to voice my request, he let his mouth slip from my nipple and trail back down my stomach.

He nipped at the skin just above my pyjama pants before hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down. I tugged my shirt over my head at the same time before laying back against the pillow, completely naked underneath him.

"Beautiful."

He'd muttered the word, almost more to himself than to me, but the sincerity in his voice flooded a new kind of warmth through my body. I tried to push it down, focusing on what we were doing, what this was and all it could be. Because yes, I loved Chris, but this wasn't that. This wasn't making love, this was a simple release of sexual tension. I didn't need my feelings getting in the way and making this complicated or I was going to get myself hurt.

I'd been so lost in my head that I hadn't noticed how my legs had fallen apart for Chris to settle between them or how he'd spread me with his fingers, opening me up for him to enjoy. It wasn't until I felt a slow, gentle lick right over my clit that I snapped back into the moment. With a gasp, my hips pressed up to meet his mouth, trying frantically to keep the friction now that it was finally there.

"Easy," Chris warned me, chuckling as he pulled back slightly, earning a whine from me. "We'll get you there, don't worry."

A feeling of desperation was building up inside of me and as he blew gently on the very sensitive parts of me that were in front of him, I was about ready to start begging.

"Please," I whimpered, moving my hand to his hair in case he got any bright ideas about pulling back any further, but I was relieved when he let out a groan and finally gave up on his teasing.

Suddenly I was aware of nothing, but Chris' mouth on me. My back arched as he licked up from the bottom of my core to the top, swirling his tongue around, exploring every little nook and cranny before settling his focus back on my clit. It was like he'd studied me, like he'd committed our previous brief encounter to memory and remembered exactly what I responded to as he licked and sucked with just the right amount of pressure and speed to have me panting as my grip tightened in his hair.

It had only been moments, but I could already feel the pressure building inside me, bubbling closer towards the surface. Chris, as if sensing this, eased off just slightly to slide his tongue a bit lower, pressing it against my entrance, dipping just barely inside, before replacing it with one of his fingers. I felt myself clench at the sensation, my body desperate for relief, desperate for something more inside me and Chris obliged, adding a second finger almost immediately.

"So wet, baby," he hummed, placing a kiss on the inside of my upper thigh.

I was too wrapped up in my own pleasure to formulate any kind of response, but Chris didn't bother waiting for one anyway before putting his lips back on my clit. The combination of his fingers and his mouth had me seeing stars and another whimpered plea slipped from my lips as he flicked his tongue against me. He was focused and determined, groaning against me after a particularly sharp tug on his hair when he angled his fingers inside me to find that one particular spot that made me see stars.

He stroked it once. Then twice. And on the third that coil that had been tightening inside me snapped. I covered my mouth with my free hand just in time to bite down and muffle the scream that Chris pulled from me as my hips thrust up towards him and I spasmed around his fingers as I fell over the edge.

Chris coaxed me through it, easing his attentions as I came down from the high I was feeling. He slid his fingers out of me, looking up to meet my eyes before licking them clean. I groaned, feeling myself twitch with arousal at the sight despite my heart still racing from the orgasm I had just had. He flashed me a smirk before crawling up my body and pressing his lips against mine again.

I sighed happily into the kiss, letting my hands slide down his back, just teasing the top of his pants as I reluctantly separated our mouths.

"Take these off."

My tone left little room for argument and Chris looked down at me with a smirk.

"Yes, ma'am."

He lifted his body off of mine just long enough for me to shiver from the loss of the warmth he was providing, but he quickly returned once his pants were discarded. He stayed slightly lower when he returned, turning his attention back to my chest, taking my left nipple in his mouth this time and using his hand to tease the other. My eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, but I fought the urge to simply lie back and let him do what he wanted with me. I wanted more, I needed more and I didn't want to wait any longer.

"Chris," I whined. "Please, fuck me."

Looking down, I could see his eyes widen in surprise at my blunt demand. He let his mouth slip off my nipple before giving it one last little nip, just hard enough to make me gasp from the slight twinge of pain.

"As you wish."

He reached down between us, taking a moment to slip his two fingers back inside me. He spread them out, gently stretching me and I was grateful. From my memory, Chris was thick and it had been approximately three years and five months since I last had sex (not that I was counting).

Once Chris was satisfied that I was adequately prepared, he pulled his fingers back and guided the tip of his cock towards my entrance. I tried to relax as he slowly stretched me open, but even as my mind revelled in the bliss I was feeling, a thought hit me that made my eyes widen and body stiffen.

"Chris!" I gasped out, gripping his shoulders to push him away slightly. "Condom!"

His head dropped down and he grunted as if he was using the last of his restraint to pull out of me.

"Shit," he cursed. "How could we forget that again?"

"I guess we don't learn from our mistakes," I smiled, despite the pang in my heart as the voice in my head chimed in again to say 'clearly not or you wouldn't be about to fuck him and break your own heart again'. "Do you have one?"

Chris nodded, rolling off me for just long enough to reach over to the bedside table. He pulled one out of the drawer, ripped it open and slid it on with impressive speed before crawling back over me.

"Now," he smirked. "Where were we?"

He looked down as he guided himself inside me again. The initial stretch wasn't as intense the second time around, but it grew as he pushed deeper and my breath hitched once he was fully inside. Chris stilled, sensing my discomfort as he dropped his head to kiss along my jaw until his lips rested just below my ear.

"You good?"

"Mhmm," I nodded, breathing out and shifting my hips as I started to adjust. We stayed like that, connected but still, for a few moments until I felt the tension ease a bit. "You can move."

"You sure?" Chris looked at me with concern on his face, but I nodded.

That was all the reassurance he needed as he began slowly moving his hips. He pulled his lips back from where they rested near my ear and pressed them against mine.

He kissed me deeply, passionately, as he created a steady rhythm, sliding in and out with his hips pressing hard against mine with each thrust. His biceps bulged and strained to support his weight through the movement and he eventually let his mouth fall away from mine as he could no longer hold back a groan. That noise, and the grunts that followed, made me twitch around him as if my body was doing everything it could to keep him inside me, to keep the pleasure that it had been craving for so long.

I could feel him dragging against every inch inside me, brushing against every nerve and stretching me just enough to keep me constantly impressed by how big he was. It was somehow too much, but not enough all at the same time and I hitched my leg higher up on his waist to help him get closer, deeper, if at all possible.

"Good girl..."

Chris' words hummed encouragingly against my collarbone where he placed another soft kiss before pulling back. He placed his hand on the back of my knee and lifted it even higher, opening me up for him even more.

My head dropped back against the pillow on the next stroke as his cock slid against that delicious spot inside me where his fingers had been only minutes before. He was watching, looking down between us to see me wrapped around him, see me taking him all the way every time he pushed in. I could hear him mumbling praises, compliments about how well I was doing, but I was too far gone, too wrapped up in the pleasure emanating from between my legs to do anything, but moan in response.

He slowed for a moment, leaning down, my leg catching on his shoulder and pressing it even higher as he reminded me to be quiet. He nipped my ear lobe, pulling a whimper from my lips before moving back and picking his pace up again. I knew he was right, but it was hard, next to impossible even, to hold back the noises that were bubbling in my throat.

I bit my lip and dug my nails into his skin as I attempted to control my volume and silently cursed Chris when he shifted his weight just enough to put the pressure of each thrust back on just the right spot. He moved his thumb down to brush over my clit, but it barely took a few strokes for me to fly over the edge.

It felt like my whole world exploded as I clenched around him, a low moan slipping past the lip between my teeth. The tingle ripped through every part of my body, every muscle quivering with pleasure, as Chris picked up the pace even more, with one final burst of speed until he stilled, letting out a deep, rumbling groan of his own before pumping in and out a few final times.

Once he'd stopped his movements completely, he let my leg lower to the bed, collapsing against my chest as he fought to catch his breath. I drifted my hand up to stroke the damp hairs on the back of his neck and soaked in the blissful feeling, a feeling I'd dreamt about since the last time I had the pleasure of enjoying it.

We stayed like that for a few moments until Chris reluctantly pulled back, letting out a soft groan as he slid out of me.

"I'll be right back."

I admired Chris' ability to walk already as all I had the strength to do was nod and shift back to my side of the bed. When Chris reappeared a few minutes later after disposing of the condom in the bathroom, I could barely keep my eyes open. He climbed back under the blankets and shifted over towards me until he could pull me right against his chest with our legs intertwined.

"That was nice," I sighed happily, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms as I nuzzled my nose into his toned pecs.

They shook as he chuckled and a giggle slipped from my lips as well.

"It was," he agreed, kissing the top of my head the same way he had at the start of this little rendezvous.

There was a heaviness in the air, the underlying unspoken words and the conversation that needed to be had hung between us, but I couldn't bring myself to ruin the moment. I'd spent so much time thinking about this, what it would be like to be in his arms again, I couldn't bare to say anything that might make him pull away and snap out of the moment of insanity we'd slipped into.

So, I didn't and neither did he. With one final, gentle kiss goodnight, we stayed tightly in our embrace until we drifted off into a contented sleep.

-

Part Three

[mummybear]

Borrowed Time - Chapter Two - Sexting

Words: 2352

Warnings: Swearing, Sexting, Dirty Talk.... think that’s it! :)

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Bingo Square: Sexting - @spnkinkbingo

A/N: So this is part two of the mini series guys! There will be a few bingo squares featuring in the series too. Thank you to my lovely beta as always @negans-lucille-tblr, I really hope you guys all enjoy part two! :) Let me know! If I have missed you off the taglist please let me know and if you wanted to be added to any of my taglists they’re open too :)

Kofi - https://ko-fi.com/mummybear

Part 1    Series Masterlist

After Dean drives away, you take a shaky breath and finally head inside. This definitely wasn’t something you’d expected to happen today, but now he’s all that you can think about. His kisses had been like a drug, your head was still swimming from the effect they’d had on you, and your lips are still tingling. 

Unlocking your front door you head inside, still in somewhat of a daze as you walk upstairs and make your way into the bathroom. Hoping that maybe a nice hot shower can clear your mind a little. You quickly strip out of your clothes and climb into the hot stream of water, sighing in relief when the water finally hits your skin. Yet your thoughts are still going back to the time you’d spent in Dean’s car, the way that he’d held you close with those big strong arms, big capable hands that wouldn’t leave your skin, and you swear that you can still feel his touch everywhere; warm, firm and desperate to keep you close. You force yourself to ignore the flutter between your thighs at the mere memory of Dean and his touch, and quickly finish washing up. You step out of the shower on slightly shaking legs, you’re not sure if it’s from the heat of the shower or from the sheer arousal being caused by your racing thoughts.

You wrap yourself in your towel, and head to your room to start getting dressed. You’ve barely managed to get your underwear on when you hear the ping from your phone, telling you that you’ve just received a text. You finish towel drying your hair and toss the towel into the dirty hamper, before going to check your phone.

You’re a little surprised to find a text from Dean - you hadn’t expected one this soon, but that doesn’t stop you from smiling like an idiot at your phone. You open the new message feed, chewing on your bottom lip as you read the messages. 

> Hey sweetheart, just thought I’d let you know I finally made it to my hell for the night, so feel free to keep me company😉

You bite your lip as you consider what Dean Winchester’s hell might look like, especially considering that he hadn’t mentioned any plans before he’d left. But you’re glad he’s texted so that you can keep him company, because the last thing on your mind right now is concentrating on any assignments, even though that’s probably what you should be doing. You briefly consider your reply before you type it out.

< Hey Dean, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon… someone is keen 😜 Well what exactly does your hell look like? 

You hit send and lay down on your bed, doing your best to get comfortable as you wait for a reply, all thoughts of getting dressed further had been pushed to the back of your mind. You grin to yourself when you receive his reply.

> I am very keen sweetheart 😉 I don’t think that’s exactly been a secret though has it? 

> I won’t bore you with details, but I’ve been dragged to some stupid party by a friend of mine. How about you? What are you doing right now? 

< Very true Dean, you’ve got me there. Subtly is not exactly your strong suit 😂

< Aww you poor baby! I told you, you should’ve stayed here… As it happens I just had a nice hot shower and now I’m laying in bed texting you 😏

You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you hit send, and you almost immediately see those little three dots appear on your screen to tell you he’s replying. He wanted you to distract him, you’re pretty sure that did the trick.

> You’re such a little tease sweetheart. And not to be that guy but… what are you wearing?😏

< Oh wow 😲 I am shocked! Such a pervert Dean! 😜

> Don’t pretend you don’t love it and there is no way you’re surprised by that! 

> And you didn’t answer the question princess…

You look down your body and smile to yourself, feeling a blush burning it’s way across your skin as a thought comes to mind. You’re interested to see just how far you can push him, before he snaps and decides to do something about your teasing. There’s this strange pull you’ve always felt towards him, even if you’d tried to deny it. But since the two of you had kissed that feeling is so much stronger, and dare you admit that you have feelings for a man you can never really have. Soon enough he’ll be leaving your life to take over a business, he’s already told you this can only last a limited time, so why are you so disappointed? You try to ignore the uneasy feeling and decide to lose yourself in the moment, and quickly type out your next message. 

< Hmm, I guess I didn’t answer… But I’m sure you’d be terribly bored looking at me right now. After all, I'm only wearing these red lacy panties and matching bra, all alone in bed. It’s very boring 😋

> Fuck sweetheart. Are you a constant tease? 

> Can I at least get a sneak peak? You gonna show me what I’m missing? 

You bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together. You’d never done anything like this, you’d especially never sent anyone a picture of you like this before. But you don’t want to tell him that. You don’t want Dean to think that he is pushing you in any way, because the truth is you’re tempted to send him what he wants and so much more.

< Hmm… maybe you could try and persuade me to show you. But what do I get in return?

You’re a little nervous as you hit send, but to your surprise his reply is almost instant.

> I’m sure I can find somewhere private to show you just what you do to me sweetheart. 😉 I’m just betting that the real thing looks even better than what I’m imagining right now. Haven’t stopped thinking about that perfect little mouth of yours since I dropped you off, I was hard as a damn rock driving here. 

Swallowing thickly as you reread the message for the third time, you can’t help but whimper as the thought of him between your legs rushes through your mind.

> Mmm you’re thinking about it right now aren’t you? Getting yourself all wet and worked up? All I could think about was dragging you into my lap and making you squirm 😉

“Shit,” you whisper aloud to yourself, feeling the blush rising in your cheeks, as you see exactly what he’s describing playing out in your mind, almost mixing with your real memories in that front seat. Chewing your bottom lip, you shakily type out your reply.

< I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Almost had to touch myself in the shower because I was thinking about what we could’ve gotten up to, about what I wish would’ve happened. 

< I bet you’d love to know just how wet I am right now? 😏 Well so you know… I think it’s safe to say these panties are ruined now 😏

> Fuck baby. Come on, show me. What I wouldn’t give to have you in my lap right now, need a bit of help to hide just how fucking hard you make me. Instead I’m improvising. I’ll bet you could give me something to focus on, not that it would make my current situation any less obvious 😉

You wish you were with him right now too, just thinking about the fact that he’s hard because he’s thinking about you, and that has your mind running a mile a minute. What was he thinking about? How was he imagining you? What would his reply be to a sexy picture from you? How hard could he make you come?

Nerves grip you tightly as you change onto your camera app. You adjust yourself slightly in bed, wiping your sweaty palms on the duvet as you do. You decide you want to keep your pose as simple as possible, since this is your first time. You find the best angle to take the photo, laying on your back slightly off to the side, you snap several photos and then decide to go through them. Surprisingly you manage to find one you’re happy with. You can see your lingerie perfectly, every one of your curves accentuated just right, and the photo starts at your clamped together thighs, where you can see your thumb tucked into the waistband of your panties, pulling down the edge teasingly, and goes no further than you biting your lip. So at least your face isn’t visible, you don’t need this photo coming back to bite you in the ass if the worst comes of it.

Before you can change your mind, you hit send, and you feel like you’re holding your breath from the moment he receives the message up until you see those little dots appearing. You feel your heart starting to race when those dots appear and disappear several times. Before you can type out another message to ask if everything is okay, you hear your text tone sound repeatedly.

> Son of a bitch! Where the fuck were you hiding all of that? 

> You naughty girl 😉😏

> Fuck I always thought you’d look hot in red. Guess that’s my suspicions confirmed. I’d  literally kill to bite that lip of yours right now.

> Sorry about the delay. I had to hide in the damn bathroom, you got me fully worked up now. Couldn’t hide this if I damn well tried 😜

You can’t help but giggle at the onslaught of messages, but there’s no denying the blush that stains your cheeks. You weren’t expecting that kind of reaction, not from someone like Dean, who had no doubt seen it all before. Not that there’s any part of you that’s complaining.

< Very glad that you approve, Mr Winchester. Should I be expecting some sort of retaliation then? 

> Mmm baby girl, you wanna see what you do to me? How fucking hard my cock is right now… thinking about being anywhere near that sweet pussy of yours.

You whimper at the mere idea of his hard cock being within touching distance, and another wave of arousal washes over you. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been this wet in your entire life.

> Yeah, show me baby, please 😏I want to see what I’m letting myself in for. Wanna see just how bad you’re gonna ruin me for every other man. 

Less than a minute later your phone pings, and you open the message immediately, feeling like you’ve swallowed your tongue and lost the ability to breathe, all in the space of ten seconds. His cock is fucking perfect, just like the rest of him. One of his big hands is wrapped around the thickness, and God, it’s thick. You back arches at the mere thought of him being inside you - you’re pretty sure you’ll be able to feel him inside you for weeks after you have him. 

< Jesus, Dean! Where the hell have you been hiding that!?

< You’re so big baby, you’re gonna be a tight fit. But I can’t wait to watch my pussy stretch around your thick cock. You gonna be rough with me Dean? Make me scream? 

Those dots are back and your heartbeat is in your throat, you can feel the throb between your legs becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

> Such a filthy little mouth. Oh I’ll be rough sweetheart, don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself. Can’t wait to hear you beg for my cock, bet you’re gonna sound so pretty. But I’m not gonna give it to you… not straight away 😏

You quickly force yourself to type a reply, but that’s interrupted when your phone starts to ring in your hand. You hadn’t realised before but your other hand is pressed between your thighs, resting against the thin soaked lace of your panties.

Your breath catches in your throat as you answer the phone and hear his deep breathy voice on the other end.

“Sweetheart? You there?” his voice is ragged, and almost desperate as he speaks.

“Dean, I need you. Come back please? You look like you could use some help with that very big problem,” you moan, barely even recognising your own wrecked voice.

Dean groans deeply, and you hear him moving around on the other end of the phone.

“I can’t baby, I told them I’d stay another few hours. But I promise you the second I get out of here, I’m all yours.” 

You sigh and push down the grumble of disappointment. 

“It’s okay, I get it, I won’t hold it against you,” you giggle, hearing him sigh in what sounds like relief. “What? Did you think I was gonna throw a bitch fit?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I wouldn’t blame you if you did, but it didn’t really seem like your style. Thank you for understanding, I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can get away,” he assures you, and you can tell he feels guilty, which of course is madness, he has no reason to feel that way.

“Don’t worry, have fun! Besides it’s not like you’re my real boyfriend, I don’t expect you to ask how high when I say jump,” you laugh, but very quickly you feel like you’ve said the wrong thing.

His laugh is humourless and his reply is very clipped and stiff.

“Yeah, guess you’re right. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

The phone goes dead, and you can’t help but worry as you stare at your phone like it just burned you. You sigh, feeling so many mixed emotions swirl around your head, from lust to disappointment and back again. You pull on your thin lace dressing gown, and head downstairs. You really need a drink to settle you somewhat, especially after all of that excitement. But you can’t help but wonder, had you just fucked up the best thing that had happened to you in months?

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[thefanficmonster]

Death’s Tales

The Curator (The Dark Pictures Anthology) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None (Maybe slight spoilers and slight mentions of death)

Genre: Dark Theme, slight Angst

Summary: This isn’t Y/N’s first visit to the Curator’s repository. She’s visited two times so far and deep down she knows she’ll keep coming back. Stories have a way of trapping you in the place where they live. But then again, it’s nice to have some good company for when you are introduced to those stories. Someone to laugh with during all the humorous parts. And also someone to offer you tissues when you are going through the thick of the lives written on the pages of the many books.

Requested by Anon! Hi there! Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, though I hope the fic makes up for the wait. I hope I captured what you had in mind. Please, enjoy. Love, Vy ❤❤❤

“Hello? You here?!“ Y/N calls out as she walks into familiar room. She immediately gets the feeling that she’s in the presence of a more intense power than she could explain - the power of all the timeless stories currently surrounding her. This is by no means her first tango with the deathless death turned into words written on thin, delicate pages for people to enjoy. She has always had an odd connection to each and every story she reads, so this place was the ultimate trap when she first wandered in, expectations low and head held high. She underestimated the repository, however, it didn’t take long for it to turn the tables on her with all it has to offer. In less than an hour, she had her nose buried in a book, her expectations exceeded by miles and her mind transported to a different place and time.

“Where else would I be?” The distinct voice she’s gotten so used to hearing replies from somewhere near by, “You know I rarely leave this place.”

 “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s a sad way to be spending your time. But man, if I could stay here all my life I would.“ She struts into the room where the reply came from.

He is indeed there, standing by one of the many shelves, a candleholder with lit handles in one hand, browsing the shelf’s contents with the other. He chuckles at her statement, brushing it off completely, “I was waiting for you. Have a seat, I’ll pick a story for you.”

She gets comfortable, unwrapping her scarf and shrugging off her jacket. Sitting down in one of the leather chairs opposite his desk, she crosses her legs and waits expectantly.

“Ah, there we go. ‘House Of Ashes’, how does that sound to you?” He pulls out a book, holding it under the candlelight for Y/N to see the cover with the title engraved in the, what seems to be, leather surface.

She frowns, scrunching her nose, “You know what, no. I’m tired of these sad and scary stories laced with death. I can’t live knowing I gave those characters a bad fate. I know it’s redo-able, but I can’t help but feel shitty afterwards.” She shifts in her seat, “First all those people left stranded on that boat! Then I was tricked into sympathizing and emotionally investing into characters that were nothing more than the product of a broken mind!” She gives him a glare that’s looking through him more than at him, “I think I deserve a different story this time. Something lighter.”

The older man chuckles. “I was gonna have you choose between this one and this other oldie I have,” he points at the desk where another book is already sitting, “it’s a longer story, I might have mentioned it before.” Y/N reads the title ‘The Impatient’ engraved in the olive green cover of the large book, “But that’s not in any way lighter either. I would even say it’s among the more depressive ones.“ He pauses for a second, returning ‘House Of Ashes’ in its spot, “Perhaps I could find a story of a less melancholic premise.”

“Wait.“ She lifts her hand, putting his actions to a halt, “Why don’t we change it up for once? How about you tell me a story instead of reading me one?“

He’s very clearly taken aback by this. “I’m afraid an old man like myself doesn’t have a lot to share. Especially not when I’ve spent a rather big chunk of my life in this very place, doing this very thing.”

Y/N shakes her head, “Quite the contrary, mister Curator. I believe you have way more stories than all the people my age combined.” She smirks, “Don’t worry, I won’t tattle if you have some dirt on your name. What is it? Robbery? Fraud? Murder?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I am not that interesting.“ He chuckles, settling in his chair. “But I believe I could tell you the story of the only time I helped someone directly rather than through the riddles you hate so much.“

She’s clearly pleased with the outcome of her protest. She gives him a smile, “I’m all ears.“

He can’t help but shake his head at her child-like enthusiasm for something so simple. He’s determined to make it worth her while, so he digs through the contents of his brain, looking for the most interesting memories he has stored there - the ones that would entertain her. Eventually, he comes up with one.

“Have I ever mentioned my dear friend Alan to you, by any chance?“

Y/N thinks for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, but as usual, you were very vague.”

He chuckles, “I know you hate not being given details, so I’m gonna make sure not to leave anything out.” He absentmindedly picks up the pen on his desk, twirling it between his fingers, “Well, a brief introduction to our character Alan: he’s a psychiatrist. A year or two younger than me. He’s from Calgary. I met him in my mid-thirties, when I was still what some would consider young.” He smiles at the pleasant memory.

Y/N fakes shock, placing a hand over her chest, “You mean to tell me there was time when you, the Curator, were young? You can’t be serious. I refuse to believe that.”

“I was. And I was quite handsome, mind you.“ He takes out his wallet, opening it and handing it to Y/N. On the right, covered by a thin layer of clear plastic is a black and white photo of two men in their early to mid forties.

“You’re the one on the left, right?” She asks, staring at the photo wide eyes, looking up at him for confirmation. He nods in response. “Wow, I honestly wouldn’t have recognized you.” 

“Understandably so. Time has really taken a toll on me.“ He actually looks saddened when he says that. She can tell that was less a joke and more the truth.

“I wouldn’t say so.“ She tells him sincerely, a small genuine smile on her lips.

He returns her smile, his eyes becoming a bit livelier. “Him and I are still friends till this day. He’s a walking book of stories, I’m sure you’d like him if you ever get the chance to meet him. You see, he has spoken to me about all his patients, never once naming one of them. Until this on young man had come into his office. He was struggling with issues medicine in and of itself couldn’t completely fix. His name was Joshua. The boy was having a really tough time dealing with the loss of his sisters.” He sighs at the memory, “Alan told me he tried everything. He tried all things his years of practice and work have taught him but the boy was slowly sinking further and further down into the void of his mind.“

His voice is way different from his usual narrator tone. You can hear the weight of the events he’s reciting in every syllable that leaves his lips. She is now an accomplice, exactly like if she were there when it all happened.

“It was troubling my friend to the brink of madness, I couldn’t just stand aside and watch that. Also that kind young man, Joshua, deserved a lot better than what life was giving him. Every branch that poor boy held onto snapped. Everything he ever tried to make of himself crumbled. I admired him for the fact that he kept trying and seeking a way to succeed. What he failed to see was the obvious need for help he had. He was longing for a helping hand but no one noticed, or they simply didn’t care. Except this one girl. Her name was Samantha. She saw right through his act. But he never allowed her helping hand to reach him. He never wanted to be a weight on her shoulders. Never wanted to be nor the bump in her road nor the baggage she carried while walking it. So, I stepped in. I taught him the importance of having someone by your side, and taught her the importance of never giving up on someone who means a lot to you. Luckily for themselves and for Alan and I, they listened.“

“Forget about Alan, I want to meet Joshua and Samantha. I want to meet them and give them a big hug.“ Y/N says, her mind wandering to the images she has compiled. A broken boy and a girl with the strength to carry both her and his world in her arms. She can quite see their face, but she can picture their auras, their energies. They feel so real to her, and all just from the Curator’s words alone.

Soon enough, her eyelids start giving out, her eyes fluttering closed. She’s fighting to the best of her ability to stay awake, see this story to its end, but the Curator’s storytelling and the dark, candlelit room aren’t helping her with the battle. Her mind is drifting further and further into the land where the story she’s being told will keep expanding with elements added by her imagination. She’s certain she’ll dream of this tale.

“Oh you’re already clocking out, huh?“ The Curator chuckles, pausing his story mid-sentence.

“Can’t help it.“ Y/N mumbles, already more than half asleep, “Just tell me how it ends, you’ll fill in the gaps when I wake up.“

“Well, it hasn’t ended yet. I can tell you where it’s at at the moment.“ She hums approvingly, “It’s been five years since I stepped in and now they are happily married. They have a little one on the way. A little girl, I believe.“

A lazy smile forms on her face. “That’s nice.” the words leave her lips in the form of a sleepy sigh moments before she has been dragged into the deepest crevasses of her mind and imagination.

The Curator calmly and quietly gets up, taking his jacket from the coatrack. He drapes it over the girl asleep in the armchair on the other side of his desk. Little does this college student know, he has seen both her past and future. He has met her in several different periods of her life. She’s been like her own personal guardian angel. In her past-lives too.

Guardian angel of death.

He was lucky to have met Alan before that curse was bestowed upon him - making the psychiatrist the only man he could interact with without bringing him a sooner than anticipated and inevitable demise. He wasn’t completely honest with Y/N about the time frame of meeting the other man, but that was not an important piece of information. She could do without it. He used the only hall-pass he had to do his old friend a favor - settle the storms that raged between Joshua and Samantha. And now, he’s locked away from the world, waiting for souls to come to him instead of the other way around.

Nowadays, he just stays hidden from people and only meets with those who wander into his repository. It’s always the same pattern: they come in, not really sure how they ended up there; He coaches them through a story they think they have some sort of impact on; and then they leave and never come back.

Color the man surprised when he saw her walk in the first time. It took him no time to connect the dots, he’d recognize her anywhere. She wasn’t clueless like the others, she actually seemed like she was looking for the place. He spent the next week or so feeling like he had failed the only purpose he had - to keep her safe. That was until she showed up again, even cheerier than the first time. That’s when he knew he shouldn’t fear for her, for she was a phenomenon beyond his understanding. A soul never in death’s reach.

“I hope you never get to see the same fate as everyone else who meets me.“ He whispers, looking down at her sleeping form.

He knows she’s special. After all, he never has never met anyone more than once.

[synnefo-nefeli]

Working on a WIP scene for Heard Your Heart Beating, my Klapollo friends to lovers post AA5, slow-burn fic

___

//Come fix your prosecutor// read Athena’s text. Apollo groaned wondering what Klavier could have done in the hour Klavier had spent at the WAA.

He adjusted his tie in the mirror of his locker, checked to make sure that he no longer looked sweaty from his ride over from court, and shoved his cycling outfit into his locker along with his helmet.

He could hear laughing on the other side of the office’s front door so that was a good sign, he hoped, as he swiped his keycard through the lock.

“Herr Forehead has finally arrived from his battle with the courts!” Klavier beamed at him with the smile that Apollo was now coming to call “on-stage-mode”. Klavier was sitting on the sofa next to Athena, coffee cups and tea biscuits between them on the table.

He could hear Mr. Wright bustling in the office kitchenette.

“I am back,” Apollo announced, “...and I survived Blackquill-“

“Oh, is that the reason you biked back? Simon didn’t offer to give you a lift?” Athena laughed, “how mean. He needs to learn to leave it in the courtroom.”

Apollo rolled his eyes, “Probably, but I am sure it has more to do with him needing to go down to the precinct and yell at the poor detective who sent him into court with an outdated autopsy report...also, what would I have done with my bike? I don’t want to ruin the guy’s new car by stashing it in the back seat.”

Mr. Wright arrived from the kitchen, fresh pot of coffee in hand, “Wow. A defense attorney having an updated report instead of the prosecution? Never thought I’d see the day...”

Apollo flopped on the couch opposite Athena and Klavier, “Hey. Miracles do happen...and considering all of our court win-streak, we shouldn’t be too surprised that they exist.”

“Here. Here.” Klavier said amiably into his coffee looking as if he was about to attempt to change the subject. Oh, Klavier wasn’t getting away from whatever occurred before Apollo arrived so easily,

“So... what’s this about me needing to fix ‘my prosecutor’?”

Klavier made an amused expression, “Ah, is that what I am called? Well I am honored to be Herr Justice’s”

Athena rolled her eyes, “Oh stop with the charm-“ she looked at Apollo, “he doesn’t want you to know that he’s never been to the Tragic Kingdom”

Apollo stared at Klavier, “Seriously?” which earned Klavier a playful elbow to the ribs from Athena, “Told you he would react like that”

Klavier sighed, “Is it really that big of a deal? Not going to a children’s amuse-“

“HOLD IT!” Apollo didn’t care that everyone about him flinched (“Indoor voice, Polly, jeeze”, Mr. Wright muttered”), “Disneyland is for everyone,” Apollo breathed, “you seriously haven’t gone? Ever? I mean...it’s only in Anaheim. That’s less than an hour without traffic from here-“

Mr. Wright handed Apollo a cup of coffee, “It’s been a while since ‘Mr. Disney Adult’’s shown his face at the office.”

“You say that as if you don’t have an annual pass too, Mr. Wright.”

Klavier appeared lost in the conversation; it was refreshing to see Mr. Tall, Blonde and Unflappable looking out of his depth, “Is it really a big deal that I haven’t?”

“Mm...not so much,” Mr. Wright said before Apollo could object, “well it wouldn’t be a big deal if you were hanging out with someone else, but I mean considering that you two have been spending a lot of time outside of court together, I think it’s more shocking that Apollo *hasn’t* dragged you down there already.

“You act like I go there all the time-“

“Says the person who has scheduled himself to come in late on days where there are morning annual passholder events,” Athena mused, “or how about the time you, Clay and Trucy, just decided to go to Disneyland after work because you wanted corndogs for dinner”

Across from him Klavier made a face, as if silently saying “Corndogs for dinner? Really? What are you, five?”.

Apollo met ‘his prosecutor’s’ eyes, “Those corndogs are legendary, and the only ones I’ll eat,” he rebutted, not caring that Klavier hadn’t actually said anything.

“He has a point there,” agreed Mr. Wright, “so I guess the big question is- how long before Klavier gets pulled into driving Apollo down to Anaheim?”

Klavier looked around the room at all of the other attorneys as if expecting for someone to tell him suddenly that this was all an act. Apollo meanwhile was mentally running through his calendar to figure out when he would have time to properly take Klavier to the park. There was so much to do at work-not to mention, he would have to prep Klavier for his first park visit.

“Do you like amusement parks?” Apollo asked Klavier.

The blonde man simply shrugged, “I’ve only been to a few in my life. Mein family wasn’t really into things like theme parks; didn’t see the value in them as entertainment. And when I moved here, I just didn’t go-“

“Not even grad-night?” Athena asked, “Junie told me that’s what the student council is setting up for the seniors. It’s tradition. Heck, every high school in Southern California does a school trip there at least once.”

Klavier shrugged, “I graduated early, remember? I guess I could have gone to the ceremony with the class that was graduating that year, but I wanted to get mein badge so I went home as soon as I could to pass the bar in Germany.”

“There’s one in France!”

Klavier sighed, “If I asked to do anything outside of museums and cultural experiences while we were in France, I would have been left in Germany.”

“Anyway,” Athena said, “If you’re going to hang with Polly, you’re going to have to go to the parks eventually-“

Apollo felt his cheeks heat, “I mean if that’s not what you like to do for fun, you don’t have to-“

“Oh please,” Mr. Wright interrupted, “I can confidently bet that you’ve been sitting here this entire time planning a trip for him.”

Apollo crossed his arms and sat back in defeat as Athena continued to regale Klavier with anecdotes of the WAA’s trips to the parks as well as Apollo’s impromptu visits,

“Has he shown you his pin collection yet?” Athena said in a tone that was too close to the tone she liked to use whenever she teased Apollo about his and Klavier relationship not being as platonic as Apollo made them seem.

//As if she doesn’t know the actual truth// Apollo grumbled, “Okay enough. Klavier already knows I am a nerd- he doesn’t need any more evidence about it”

“Ach you’re always cool, Herr Forehead,” Klavier smiled again in “on-stage mode”, which made Apollo decide that he needed to show Klavier what he was missing.

“When’s your birthday?” Apollo blurted.

Athena groaned, “Oh my god, Apollo, haven’t you heard of Wikipedia?”

“I like that Herr Forehead doesn’t feel the need to research me, it makes a rock god like me feel practically human,” Klavier teased and then with an amiable grin, “May 23rd.

However-I told you that on Valentine’s Day, don’t you remember?” He said a little too suggestively for Apollo’s comfort,

“I’m hurt that you don’t remember… and here I thought things that were shared during sleepovers were sacred,” he added a pout for good measure.

Out of the corner of his eye, Apollo saw Athena not-so-subtly pull out of her phone to text something, most certainly to Trucy.

Great, he was not going to know peace from either of them for the foreseeable future.

Although, Apollo appreciated that Athena had the grace to attempt to hide her grin.

Whether or not Klavier was aware of what was happening next to him, Klavier only sipped at his coffee.

“So in three weeks. Great, guess what we’re doing to celebrate your 26th birthday,” Apollo announced.

“It’s on a workday.”

“Take off.”

“Don’t you have to work?” Klavier asked

Apollo turned to Mr. Wright, “Mr. Wright, may I have the 23rd off?”

“Of course. Just put it on the calendar.”

Apollo, having won the debate, smiled smugly at Klavier, “Get ready, we have a lot to do before then.”

Klavier looked genuinely confused, “Like what?!”

He was about to ask what Klavier’s favorite Disney movie was, but then Athena’s phone buzzed, “Simon’s here- he needs help bringing up the food...and Trucy says she wants to also go to Disneyland for Klavier’s birthday, I think that’s a good idea; what do you think, boss?,”

Before Apollo could say anything about Athena or Trucy inviting themselves, Mr. Wright smiled and said,

“You know what- unless something pressing comes up and Trucy doesn’t have any projects or tests at school, I think the agency needs a mental health day. Maybe Miles and Prosecutor Blackquill need one too,” he remarked walking towards his office in order to most likely call his fiancé.

Finally alone- sort of. At least until Athena and Prosecutor Blackquill came upstairs with the food. But still, alone enough to enjoy Klavier silently trying to figure out what the hell just happened...or Apollo would have enjoyed Klavier’s genuinely flummoxed expression, except that he remembered how Klavier, despite his celebrity status, didn’t like to draw attention too himself unless it was in court or on stage- and especially not in public.

It was the reason Klavier hadn’t shown up to Clay’s funeral after all. He looked at Klavier feeling guilty for putting his friend on the spot,

“Sorry, if you don’t want to- we don’t have to-“

“Nein, nein,” Klavier said with his genuine smile, “you all are so passionate about it, now I have to experience it”

“Are you sure? I didn’t even ask if that’s how you wanted to spend your birthday-I just kinda got caught up in it.”

Klavier shrugged, “Honestly, considering that I usually spent the last few dragged to stuffy VIP lounges of clubs I wasn’t interested in, with people who, as it turned out, cared less about me- I think this may be a gut change of pace.”

Well that made him feel better...and a bit sad for Klavier, “I’ll make sure you have a good time and we won’t be overwhelmed. A lot of celebrities go to Disneyland, and they don’t get mobbed- people are pretty respectful of celebrities having their time in the parks.”

“You sound as if you are familiar.”

“Clay...worked there for a summer, celebrities would come all the time as park guests. And aside from maybe helping a celebrity escape a crowd, they don’t give anyone special treatment unless they’ve paid for a guided tour-“

“Oh- are we not doing that, Herr Forehead?”

Apollo snorted,“Hell no, you’re going to stand in line for Space Mountain like the rest of us plebes.” Also I’m not about to suggest we spend $800 an hour for a theme park tour...

Klavier’s laugh was enough to make Apollo feel better and better about commandeering Klavier’s birthday. He was going to look forward to these next few weeks in getting Klavier ready for his first time at the park. The thought of movie nights made Apollo feel a bit warm inside. Warm in a way that he hadn’t felt since Klavier had comforted him during his own birthday.

The office door opened, Athena holding it open so that Simon could come through with the large box that contained their takeout dinners. Apollo braced himself for any barbed words from Athena’s prosecutor; considering how the day’s court proceedings had gone, Apollo expected some amount of sour grapes. Instead Simon ignore Apollo and incredulously regarded his co-worker with,

“You’ve seriously never been to Disneyland, Gavin-dono?”

***

[actuallybarb]

The Aftermath ~ Part 5

Summary: y/n goes to avengers compound, mysterio proves to be a dick even in the afterlife, y/n fixes everything sleep be damned

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, mysterio is finally out of the picture god bless, trauma, marvel bs and shenanigans

Word Count: 3691

A/N: sleep deprivation and coding are not my strong suits yet i find myself writing about them way too often

                                                         /////////

Let’s just say, I am so grateful Jessica is in my life, or else I would be toast.

“How could you keep something like this from us?”

“You were forced to use your powers against your friends?”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

They had good intentions - they’re just worried. I’ve had five, almost six, years to process it, and they’re getting it all thrown at them at once.

That’s at least what my brain was trying to tell me. But the louder they got the faster my breathing shallowed out and my heart beat and shit is the room spinning?

“Y/N?”

Jess.

“Are you okay?”

“I-“ The three of them were looking at me and wow, as much as I loved Jessica, I felt like I was being suffocated. “I need some air.” I basically sprinted out of the room.

There was only one floor between us and the roof, and the couple that lived there were so old they wouldn’t reach the window by the time I was off the fire escape.

The sun was setting. When the pollution was worse, pre-blip, the sky would turn pink and purple and every color in between. Now it’s just blue. Less pollution is good. But I miss how the sky used to be.

I sat on the edge of the roof with my legs dangling over the edge, trying to get a grip on my reality, when none other than Spider-Man came swinging around and sat beside me.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey Peter.”

“Are you okay?”

I brought my knees up to my chest. To tell or not to tell - the question of my life. “I just told my parents about my powers. The- they have mixed feelings.” Peter just sat there, so I took the chance and kept talking. Talking to someone who kind of gets it. “They just kept getting louder and louder. So I left.” I brought my chin down to my knees too. “Jess is down there, though, she can help calm them down.”

“Who’s Jess?”

“My foster mom. Both my parents were snapped, so were her husband and kid, so I lived with her. She used to be the only other person who knew what I could do. Now I feel like everyone does.”

“Who else knows?”

I counted in my head. “Eleven, including me.”

Peter counted too, but he was two short. “Who else? I already counted Fury.”

“My shrink. And Flash. He saw me while I was a monster.”

“You’re not a monster, Y/N.”

“Aren’t I?” I stood up and started pacing. “You saw what I did in London. That wasn’t a pack of drones, that was me. All me.”

“You’re not a monster, Y/N. You may have been the one doing the damage, but Beck forced you too. He threatened to kill you and your parents if you didn’t cooperate. You didn’t have a choice.”

“Yeah, well,” I sat down again, probably closer to Peter than was friendly, “that doesn’t help my conscience.”

“We…“ He sighed. “We can’t let Beck have a hold on us. That’s just what he wants.”

“Happy gave me a card. He told me to call him.”

Peter perked up immediately. “Have you called him yet?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I had to tell my parents first before anything else, just in case something got out about London.”

“You told them everything?”

“I don’t like lying. I can tell when other people do it and it just pisses me off. It just makes things easier if you tell the truth.” I sighed and stood up, brushed my hands off on my pants, and stepped down from the ledge. “I’ll see you around, Peter.”

“Going back to face them?”

I smiled and shrugged. “Has to be done eventually.”

/////////

They let me call Happy, and that weekend I was allowed to stay at the Avenger’s compound. It was weird, being surrounded by adults that had been doing the whole ‘superhero’ thing for a while. Even Peter, who was the same age as me, looked so much more in his element during training.

“Are you a genius too?”

It was breakfast. I had made myself some scrambled eggs and bacon, because, according to Sam, “You have to eat protein too, Y/N, not just that sugar shit.”

I side-eyed Bucky as I took a bite of eggs. “Define ‘genius.’”

“Peter’s brain runs a mile a minute. I know you guys go to the same school, so?”

I shrugged. “I pass, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant, Y/N.”

I huffed. “I don’t know, I just am. I mean, sure, I hacked into Stark’s servers when we were in Prague, but it doesn’t seem extraordinary. The only part about me that actually feels different is the fact that I can make fire with my bare hands.”

I didn’t realize there were people listening in on our little conversation. “You hacked into Tony’s servers in Prague?”

Pepper Potts was who I wanted to be when I grow up. A complete badass. And I just ruined her perception of me in one sentence. “Uh… Yes.”

“We could never figure it out. FRIDAY got an alert, but you were untraceable. How’d you get through all of the firewalls?”

“I-“ There were more people in the kitchen now. “I don’t know.”

Pepper looked me up and down. “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to do it again. Then we can improve the system. Then we can think about adding you to our software development team.” She winked at me, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving me absolutely gobsmacked. Wow, I’d only been there a weekend and I was already picking up the old man slang.

“Damn, kid.” Bucky pat me on the back then continued eating his way through his third bowl of cereal, because, as Sam angrily said to me, “He’s a grown-ass man, Y/N, he can eat whatever shit he wants.” And then admitted, after some slight teasing, “Do you really think I could be able to tell him what to do?”

“He is your boyfriend.”

“That’s not the point.”

I wanted the weekend to last forever, but I was promised another one, where I could show Pepper my breaking and entering skills and eventually beat Wanda at poker. (She can literally read minds, it’s an unfair advantage.)

My parents, though still wary, were glad to see me in such high spirits - it didn’t happen very often, so they took advantage of it as much as possible.

But it didn’t last long. Mom and Dad sat down on the couch to catch up on This is Us on Tuesday and I went to grab my laundry, but when I got back out I dropped it in shock.

“Spider-Man’s name-“ Beck’s video cut out then flashed back. “Spider-Man’s name is Peter Parker!”

“Fuck.”

Mom was too shocked to scold me for my language.

“That’s just horrible.”

“How could Spider-Man do such a thing?”

I looked at my dad and wanted to hit him upside the head. “Dad! Peter didn’t kill Beck!”

“You heard what the video said-“

“I also know that Beck had a team of people working with him that probably knew how to use his tech as well as he did.” When he didn’t give me more than a blank stare I groaned. “They made it up! It’s all fake so they can ruin Peter’s life.” I pulled out my phone. “I have to call-“

Everyone will be trying to call Peter.

What good will that do, then?

How the fuck can we fix this?

I pressed a different contact and held my phone up to my ear, my laundry completely forgotten on the floor as I made my way up to the roof. “Pepper.”

“You saw it?”

“How could I miss it?” Pepper Potts saw right through me my first day at the compound. She knew from the get-go my feelings for Peter. That’s probably the only reason she took my call. “What do we do?”

“I have three other lines open with my lawyers and they’re looking into every bit of information they can get their hands on. Y/N,” she started, “I need you to find him. We can’t let him run off or do something extreme, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Text me when you find him, I’ll let you know what the lawyers say.”

If I was Peter Parker, where would I go?

I have no idea I barely know the guy.

Shut up, Y/N, you’re more similar than you think.

Oh. Duh. He’d be on a rooftop.

After a quick text to MJ, I figured he’d be close to May, considering he saw the whole thing from a big screen in Times Square. And, lo and behold, there he was, on the rooftop of his apartment building.

“Peter.”

“Y/N?” I hated seeing his eyes bloodshot. It was a look he donned too often. “What- How-“

I pulled him into a hug, and he just sort of… crumbled. I just sort of held him for a little bit before he let go and rubbed at his eyes.

“Y/N, I don’t know what to do.”

Great, now I have to be the problem solver.

“Have you talked to anyone yet? May, MJ, Ned?”

He shook his head. “MJ saw it with me, but I left before she could say anything.”

I nodded. “Okay. Let me- hold on.” I texted Pepper, “I got him,” and she responded back, “Bring him. Happy’s bringing May.”

“Who is it?”

“Pepper. She says we need to get to the compound.” I started to move to the edge, but Peter stayed frozen in place. “Peter?”

“What if it’s all a trick? What- what if this is all a big hallucination? What if Beck is still alive? What if everything since the trip has been fake, and that’s why everything’s been going so well with MJ, and now he’s just blowing it up in my face, and-“

“Peter!”

I’m not gonna lie, the thought had crossed my mind. How do you tell what’s actually reality when you don’t even know yourself?

But I could feel the ground beneath me. Beck couldn’t trick me in Prague, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to trick me now. (Mostly because he’s dead, but that’s not the point.)

“Hallucination or not, we should go.”

He shook his head again. “No, I can’t, May’s still here, and MJ, and Ned-“

“Happy is bringing May to the compound. Just call MJ and Ned, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“I can’t just leave everyone!”

“And I can’t let you stay!” Some pigeons flew off at both of our outbursts. I sighed. Why does he always give me such a headache? “Peter, please, we have to go.” As if on cue, a helicopter came flying over us, shocking Peter out of his stupor.

“How are we getting there?”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“We can take my mom’s car, she barely uses it anyway.” Peter nodded, and I sent Mom a quick text. “Can I use the car?”

“Why?”

“I need to go to the compound. Peter’s freaking out.”

...

...

...

“Sure. Keep us updated.”

“‘Course.”

Peter and I made it back to my rooftop in five minutes, then we took the elevator down to the underground garage. “Here.” I tossed him a hoodie to wear over his suit. “Keep your head down ‘til we’re out of the city, okay?” He just nodded, then curled up on the seat as the traffic of New York crept by.

He was asleep fifteen minutes into the drive. We hadn’t even left Manhattan yet and his breathing evened out. Just in time, Pepper was calling me. “Hey, Pepper.”

“Are you guys on your way?”

“Yeah, we still have a while, though.”

Peter stirred awake. “Is that Pepper?”

“Hi, Peter.”

“Is May there yet?”

“Happy said they still have about fifteen minutes. Listen, Pete, I’ve called some lawyers, and they…”

Pepper kept talking, but I felt Peter’s heart rate go up.

“Hey- Pep- We’re losing-“ I hung up.

He immediately relaxed. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He sat back in the chair and looked at me, which made me only want to reach out and hold the hand he had on the center console, but I couldn’t because: a) I still didn’t know him that well, and, b) that’s just weird. So I kept two hands on the wheel and my eyes straight ahead until Peter started talking.

“What else can you do?”

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You said you can tell when people are lying. What else can you do?”

I glanced at him before the road captured my attention again. “Um,” my fingers tapped the steering wheel, “I can open metal locks. Like, if it’s metal, I know how it’s made.”

He peeked up considerably at that. “That’s so cool! Does it work with everything?”

“I mean, I guess? I haven’t tried it on much, just like locks and if my computer starts acting stupid.”

“Could you do it on Mr. Barnes arm? Or my nano-tech suit? Or-“ His face paled immediately. Was he going to burst into tears? To vomit? I couldn’t tell, but I really wanted the answer to be “no.”

“I could try it on Bucky’s arm. I’m not sure it would work, I haven’t tried something that complicated, but that’d be pretty cool.”

Peter didn’t talk much the rest of the ride. May was waiting outside to greet him, and she kept a secure arm around his waist while they followed Pepper inside the compound, Happy not far behind. I was left outside with the car.

My first instinct was to call Jess, because even though it wasn’t me directly affected, I still felt like a pound of bricks fell on my chest. But I picked up my phone and called Mom instead, because my shrink told me the relationship wouldn’t get better without some work. And she is my mom; it’s not like I don’t love her, we’re just different people now, and we have to learn each other all over again.

“Mom?”

“Hi, sweetheart. How’s everything going?”

“Not too great, if we’re being completely honest. I- I don’t know what to do.”

Mom had exactly 8 days of superhero-parenting under her belt, but I’ll be damned if she didn’t give it her best effort. “What do you usually do when you feel this way?”

Wow, she really is learning. “Something productive.”

“You did say they had a training room.”

Genius. “Yeah, I did. Thanks, Mom.”

And that’s where I was found an hour and a half later by Sam Wilson. FRIDAY had a lot of fun creating new simulations for me and it kept me distracted enough to not focus on the complete ass Quentin Beck and the primal urge I felt to pound the face of his carcass in. Not to be morbid or anything.

“You okay, kid?”

One last fireball at the bad guy and I had won my fifth round in a row. “Sure.”

“That wasn’t very convincing.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” My water bottle lay helplessly empty on the ground next to a small towel, both of which I picked up to avoid a tripping hazard later. “How’s it going in there?”

“They’re looking at all the different ways to get the video down and find the creator and clear Peter’s name, but FRIDAY hasn’t been able to get past the firewalls.”

I swear my neck popped my head shot up so fast. “Firewall?”

“Yeah. Wanna take a crack at it?”

I followed him out of the training room and into a huge lab I had only had the pleasure of walking past. Now I was standing in the center of technology heaven.

“Are we going to get technical with legality here?”

Sam held his hands up in surrender. “I won’t tell, do what you have to do.”

This. This was my element. Beck forced me to make an Elemental for him and tried to force me to kill hundreds of people, thinking I could do it because I could control water, earth, fire, and air. But little did he know he was creating something that dropped the ball completely in my court.

“Okay. Let’s blow the bastard up. FRIDAY, I want you to observe only.”

Then I got to work.

////////////

“Where did Y/N go?” Peter and May were still in the conference room, talking in hushed voices, while Pepper continued to talk to the lawyers, drawing up a new game plan. Happy was the only one to wonder where I went.

“She’s in the lab.”

“Did you take her in there?” Happy started to get defensive, especially about anything Tony related, but Sam just set his glass down and motioned for him to follow.

“She broke into the archives on a laptop in Prague. If anyone is going to have any luck at that video, it’s her.”

They walked along the outside of the lab. “She locked the doors the second I left. Probably doesn’t want us screwing up her process.”

Happy’s eyes crinkled around the edges as he smiled. It was almost like Tony was back. The loud music in the background, thirteen different screens open at once, fingers and brain moving faster than the eye could see.

Sam glanced over at Happy and smiled too. “It’s almost like the good ‘ole days.”

He coughed, trying to get over how choked up he was feeling. “She and Peter both have it. They— they both make it seem less- less empty.”

Sam clapped him on the shoulder. “Keep an eye on her? FRIDAY knows to let someone in if she’s crashing.”

“How does she know that?”

“It’s the same protocol Rhodey had installed for Tony.”

/////////////

Stark Industries computers are a dream to begin with. Actual Tony Stark tech? It’s like I died and went to heaven. That was probably insensitive to say, but hey, someone’s gotta appreciate the man’s work. And I will happily do so.

I didn’t come out for hours, probably days. The only time I let someone into the lab was if they were bringing me coffee, and even then it would go untouched half the time.

“Y/N.”

“Shut up I’m almost there.”

“You said that six hours ago.”

“And now I’m six hours closer.”

“This isn’t healthy.”

“Isn’t it?” I took a sip of the blessed espresso and kept typing. “Seriously, Bucky, I’m almost there, I can taste it.”

“You’ve been at it for-“

“Got it.” I saved the video to the personal system then took it down, bit by bit until it was completely erased from every hard drive on the planet. (Stark Tech can do that. It’s totally invasive but I don’t care enough to worry about the ethics of it.) “Let me follow the source.” One hundred and twenty four clicks later, “I got them.”

“Them?”

“All of Beck’s bitches.” I pushed back in the chair and let myself feel exhausted. “Can you get Pepper? She seems way more qualified to deal with this. FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Keep surveillance on these twelve will you? All movement needs to be tracked.”

“All movement?”

“Even when they take a piss.”

I was happy to just curl up in the chair and fall asleep, but Bucky had other ideas. He put an arm under my legs and carried me to the room I stayed in over the weekend. He was even thoughtful enough to take off my shoes before he pulled back the covers and tucked me in.

“Wait, Bucky.” He turned around and took a step forward, just within reach. I stretched my arm out and let my fingers touch his vibranium arm. “There’s a wire in your pinky that needs to be replaced soon.”

Then my arm fell and I lost all consciousness.

/////////////

Apparently I slept for fifteen hours. At least, that’s what FRIDAY told me. She also told me that my parents were at the compound, which freaked me out more than how long I slept.

I walked into the communal kitchen and was met with the afternoon sun blazing through the wall-long windows. After blinking several times I realized I was definitely not alone.

Almost everyone was there. Pepper, Happy, Sam, Bucky, Peter, May, and my parents were dispersed around the kitchen and connected living room. “‘Morning.”

Everyone’s heads turned to me. “Y/N!”

It was Peter that rushed forward and wrapped me in a hug. I have to say, I was thrilled it was him. I got a good look at his face when he pulled away and he looked a lot better. No bloodshot eyes in sight. “How are you?”

“Starving.”

I sat beside Mom at the huge island, a stack of pancakes immediately put in front of me by Sam.

“I thought you didn’t want me eating that sugar shit?” Mom pinched me in the arm for my swear, but I didn’t care, not when I could get a rise out of Samuel.

“I’ll make an exception just this once.”

With half a mouth full of pancakes I asked Pepper, “What happened?”

What was that look on her face? Pride? Relief? I couldn’t tell. “All twelve of them were arrested and are currently being tried in court.”

“And the whole Peter dilemma?” I glanced his way, but he didn’t look nervous. He looked… happy.

“Taken care of. Fury was able to pull a few strings and we’ll be able to get live news coverage of both Peter and Spider-Man at once so no one can question his identity. Spider-Man will remain anonymous. There’s still the matter of clearing Spider-Man’s name, but for now at least Peter will be safe.”

Peter looked at me with a huge smile on his face. “It’s all working out, Y/N. All thanks to you.”

I shrugged. “All I did was get past a few firewalls.”

Mom set a hand on my back and I smiled at her.

Maybe it was all working out.

tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries​

[mila-dans]

Spells Out Trouble: I Wanna Know What Love Is

This is chapter one of “Spells Out Trouble.” Masterlist Here!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 4770

Summary: You have been with the Winchesters for several years now going through all the literal trials and tribulations with them. What happens when Dean gets hit by a love spell and becomes head-over-heels for you? Will your pushed down emotions finally rise or will you get in over your head? Find out what happens when your best friend's hard exterior becomes mush whenever you end up in his eyeline.

Just so you know: This is my first Fanfic so sorry if there are aspects missing. “Spells Out Trouble” is a series with about ten chapters. Again, sorry if this isn’t perfect! If you have any suggestions or tips, I’d love to hear from you. Thank you and I hope you enjoy it! (Also, not my gif!)

“Y/N!”

You could hear your name being called as you adjusted your position on the bed. “Five more minutes,” you mumbled out as you buried your face even deeper in the pillows. 

“Y/N, wake up!” Dean said, agitated. He was still mad that you won the coin toss for the bed. Thanks to you, he got a restless night on a two-seated couch. But as of right now, you were way too tired to care.

Sam was in the bathroom getting ready first like always. Spending so many years with the boys, you learned each other’s habits, quirks, and how long they needed to get ready in the morning. Sam took the longest for some reason and after him was you, who only took maybe eight minutes to get fully dressed which always seemed to impress the brothers. Dean was after you, taking only about five minutes to get ready for the day which seemed accurate based on his minimal appearance.

“We got to go,” Sam said from behind the door.

“You hear that? We’re gonna leave without you.” Dean said as you could imagine the smug smile on his face. 

“You wouldn’t,” you replied as Dean’s taunting caused you to wake up. You, Dean, and Sam were set to go to the coroner's today and as good a day as any to see a dead body, you were especially excited because this hunt involved a witch. And you hate witches. You have a past and a very bad one at that. The boys know your strong feelings when it comes to the bottom dwelling hags. This remark on Dean’s part as to threaten to leave without you was just enough to make you sit up from your comfy position in bed and prepare to start your day. “I’m up.”

“Finally,” Dean said, throwing your weapons bag with full force right at your chest. It hurt but of course he did it on purpose. Dean always liked to pick on you, even more so whenever you were just waking up and you had your defenses down.

“Ow,” you said, glaring at Dean with only a sly smirk from him in return.

Sam exited the bathroom as he finished buttoning up his white dress shirt. “All yours,” he said to you. You nodded and rolled out of bed pushing off the sack of weaponry from you. You grabbed your FBI getup and headed to the bathroom where you got cleaned up and dressed.

You could hear the boys from behind the closed door talking about the latest victim, John Chase. You listen all while thinking about the case. So far, six men have been found dead with their insides turned to goo. You all had been at this for days and have yet to catch a break. Hopefully the new body would lead to something. Anything.

You finished getting dressed and like clockwork, just as you opened the door to let Dean have a turn getting dressed, he stood in the doorway just about to knock. His hand, merely inches away from your face, you gulped as you realized how close you were to receiving a hit to the face, courtesy of Dean Winchester. “That was close,” he said smiling.

“Yeah, close enough. Watch it next time, Winchester.” You shoved him as you walked out and towards your bed.

“Y/N,” Sam called out as you turned your attention towards him, “Which one?” He had held up two different ties in his hands, weighing them up and down as to signal to you which one was better. “Pick one. Blue or red?”

“Hmm... blue brings out your eyes but red makes you look sexy!” You said with clear sarcasm making Sam smile. 

“Really? Cause I would’ve thought it’d be the opposite. But what do I know? You’re the sexy one,” Sam retorts, raising his eyebrows.

“True, but you do come in at a close second.”

“Wow, and here I thought Dean would’ve been second.”

“Oh no. You know you are my favorite Winchester.” You say puckering your lips, blowing him a kiss.

Yours and Sam’s relationship was very different when compared to yours and Dean’s. Both of them were your best friends but Sam was able to let his guard down with you. You always had admired his sass whether it was directed towards you or not. It was fun to play and joke with him. When it was just him and Dean, he often had to be what would be called the ��mature one.” Dean on the other hand liked to mess with you too but he never let his guard down like Sam does. Sam was still the only person who saw the full version of Dean. You wished Dean would let you in but you were just happy that you got Sam to. Besides, he was way easier to talk to when it came to deep stuff. You’d always go straight to Sam without giving it a second thought if you ever needed to talk and he often did the same to you.

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

You sorted through your bag as you placed all the weapons on your person that you deemed necessary for a trip to the coroner’s office. The boys always thought you had an overabundance of weapons even when attending the simplest of places. You however thought it was better to be prepared and when riding with the Winchesters, it’s best to be ready for anything. You rummaged through your bag even deeper. “Where’s the demon blade?” You asked, still continuing your search.

“It's in my bag,” Dean said as he loaded his gun with your favorite type of bullets.

“Can I have it?” You asked him as he stuck your hand out waiting to put it in the back of your belt.

Dean tucked his gun in the back of his pants and looked at your eagerness to have the blade. “Um, no.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no, sweetheart. You already have a whole armory on you. You don’t need the knife too.” Even though you knew Dean was probably right, you couldn’t help but want it even more now that he had felt so inclined to call you “sweetheart” which he knew bugged you. The truth of the matter is, you didn't mind him calling you it so much as you minded him calling every other woman sweetheart too. You hated thinking that he had grouped you with every other one night stand or valentine adventure.

“Give it to me,” you said, holding your hand out even further only to have him push it away.

“No.”

“Yes,” you demand.

“Dean, let her have the knife,” Sam said with his “It’s too early for this” tone.

“Fine,” Dean said, taking it out of his bag and holding the edge about to place it in your hand.

“Really?” You said surprised he had given up so easily.

“No,” he said as he showed you that smug grin of his. He took the knife away and walked over to the edge of your bed, about to place it in his weapons bag once again. 

“Give it,” you order as you hop on the bed trying to grab it out of his hands.

“You're gonna hurt yourself, sweetheart,” he said with his once again taunting tone. You only tried harder to grab it as his arms went all around you causing you to get closer and closer to the edge of the bed. You reached over the edge as he dangled the blade in front of you. You almost had gotten it but instead lost your balance.

Thump.

“Told you, sweetheart.” And with that remark, Dean had left the building with the blade placed in his bag.

While on the floor, you try to convince yourself that he is useful and it would be best to not kill him yet but you believe the topic to be debatable.

Sam came over to help you off the floor. “Your brother is being a jerk again,” you said while brushing yourself off.

“Yeah, well, what else is new?” Sam holds out your bag.

You snatch the bag from his hand, “You are enjoying this because you think it’s better for him to pick on me instead of you.”

“What?” Sam said sarcastically. “That is so not true. I never find enjoyment when I let my pain in the ass older brother bully you just so he wouldn’t bully me,” he replies with a big grin on his face.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be so sure,” you glare at him.

You both grabbed your coats and shut the door behind you.

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

You three had just come back from the coroner’s and discovered, thanks to some hex bags found in the victim's pockets, that your witch was very old and very powerful. You also found that she continued her hot streak of leaving attractive, middle-aged men’s innards boiled.

“Great,” Dean said as he shut Baby’s door. “What is it? Five dead now?”

Sam got in beside him, “Seven, actually.”

“Make that eight,” you said as you tossed your phone on the seat in front of you.

“What is this?” Sam asked, picking it up, examining the news story.

“It’s yet another kill where some attractive guy has his insides deep fried.”

“Great, again,” Dean said, starting the car. “Where was it at this time?”

“North Crow street,” Sam replied.

“That’s only what? Two miles from the last victim?”

“I’m pretty sure,” you said, thinking about the pattern of the attacks.

“We go back to the room, map out the attacks, get our gear, and we kill this son of a bitch.” You nodded.

“Agreed.”

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

“Okay,” Sam said as he marked the final spots on the map, “We have North Crow street on here twice. Then there’s this neighborhood right here where three of the victims were and over here is Goodman park where the remainder of the victims were killed at.” The map was spread out on a section of the wall above the sofa with a whole lot of red thread and pushpins covering whatever blank space remained.

“So that’s a two mile radius around,” Dean gets up taking the marker from Sam, “This street. Mary’s Ave.”

“Great, now that we’ve narrowed it down, to what? One-Hundred houses? What’s our next step?” You asked as you felt the weight of the deaths on your shoulders and it became even worse as you knew you weren’t the only one.

“I've got no freaking clue.” Dean let out a huff as he ran his hands through his hair in aggravation. Dean was getting more angry by the second and it didn’t help that he had been cooped up in a room with you and Sam. Sure, it was fun to mess with him but it tends to get old real quick. Dean threw up his hands, “It's not like we can just hit all the houses on the block knocking on the door and asking, ‘Hey, are you a witch? Cause if you are, we need to kill you.’”

Sam gives off a tired laugh. “We’ve been at this for a week and we have got nothing except a pile of bodies.”

You take in the sight of the tired brothers and know that it’d be best if you didn’t push them over the edge. “Hey,” you said with a calm voice, trying to get them to ease up, “We will find her and kill her. Okay?”

“How Y/N?!” Dean yells looking at you as if you were crazy to somehow have any sort of hope.

You sit down trying to make up any connection or pattern you can. You see the boys and their exhaustion and anger radiating off of them. You push yourself even harder to find something, anything. You think to yourself about all the information you have: A trail of good looking dead guys, a witch, messed up insides, and a hex bag. A hex bag which you have found nothing in the lore about. You have yet to figure out how this hex bag kills or much less hurts someone. What kind of hex bag doesn’t kill you but still leaves you dead. It leaves you dead... Leaves you dead... “Leaves you dead!” You mutter under your breath.

“What?” Asks Sam as he sees you jolt up grabbing the hex bag and his laptop, clicking away on the keyboard.

“Y/N, what are you doing with the hex bag?” Dean asks.

“Shush,” you demanded as you continued your search online.

“Don’t ‘shush’ me,” Dean replied silently.

You ignore the duo as you search deeper in the online lore. You search every ingredient in the hex bag. Instead of lethal hex bags, you search for non-lethal ones that use the same ingredients. “Okay, hear me out: What if the witch wasn’t trying to kill guys?”

“Sure, she accidentally melted the victim’s insides,” Dean says as he rolls his eyes.

“Shush!” You again told Dean trying to explain your train of thought. “We searched all over for a hex bag like this that kills someone, right?”

“Yeah,” Sam replies reluctantly.

“But what if the hex bag wasn’t meant to kill the men, but instead lure them to our witch.” You turn the screen around showing the list of ingredients for a spell that can lure anyone to the user. “See? This spell and the hex bags use the exact same ingredients.”

“I guess that’s useful information if we wanna make hex bags but how does this help us try to find the witch?” Dean again says with his annoying sarcasm.

You turn the computer around again and start typing away once more. “Well, sweetheart,” you look at Dean and show a sarcastic smile, “These ingredients are extremely rare and even more expensive.” Dean looks at you mad and you smile even bigger assuming that he doesn’t like being called “sweetheart” either. “Since the ingredients are so rare, when you search where they are found, you discover they are only found in a very small part of Ireland.” 

“Okay,” Sam says, trying to follow.

“Now, since the items are expensive, the witch must be rich. And when I search the most expensive houses on Mary’s Ave, I come up with fifteen different ones which all belong to an array of people.”

“Yeah,” Sam nods in agreement, still unsure of your thought process.

“The Fifteen names of the owners are: Smith, Jackson, Thompson, Brock, Jones, Marshall, James, Evans, other Smith, Parker, MacAulay, Watts, Cooper, Jefferson, and Holiday. Tell me, which one of those names sounds Irish to you?”

“MacAulay,” Dean says as the wheels in his head visibly turn.

“Right, and when I pull up the records for the house, you will find that one Alannah MacAulay lives in that house alone. And it just so happens that she paid upfront with cash.” You look at Sam and Dean and notice their shocked expressions. “That name is indeed Irish and is one of the founding families that basically built the town that grows these ingredients. Guys, I’d say this is our witch.”

“How in the world did you get all that from a hex bag?” Sam asks with an amazed look in his eyes. You shrug your shoulders trying to hold back a smile of accomplishment. “Good job, Y/N,” Sam says, giving you a pat on the back.

“Thanks.” You look again at Dean knowing that a compliment from him was as rare as a unicorn sighting, but in this job the latter would be more likely to happen.

Dean stands up and cocks his gun, “Let’s go kill a witch.”

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

You all had arrived at the house. You and Sam took the front door entrance as Dean went around back. Sam opened the door slowly as you went under his arm through the doorway scoping out the place. The door shut gently behind him. He signaled for you to go upstairs as he took the first floor. You nodded in agreement as you cautiously and quietly walked up the huge set of stairs that were before you.

The house was gigantic and magnificent. If you weren’t so worried about the status of your life, you might’ve actually enjoyed it a bit more. When you came to the top of the steps, you saw three doors ahead of you. Thinking it might be a while till one of the boys came upstairs to help you search, you went right ahead entering the rooms as stealthy as you could.

The first room didn’t have anything that looked witchy and the same went for the second. But just as you turned the knob on the third door, you heard a muffled sound. You pushed the door open finding a middle-aged man tied to a chair with a gag in his mouth. Only the man and a whole mess of stuff was in the room. You passed by what seemed to be a miniature cauldron filled with an assortment of goods or more accurately, bads, and soon made your way to the man. Holding your gun with such focus and intensity, you searched every square inch of the room just to make sure it was only you and him.

You went over to him, undoing the ropes and removing his gag. “Are you alright?” You asked quietly.

“I think,” he said with an uneasy tone. You signaled for him to get up and get a move on but he still remained glued to the seat.

“What are you doing?” You whispered worried that if you stayed any longer, you wouldn’t be alone.

“I can’t move!” He says with a terrified tone.

“What?” You look to see if you missed a rope.

“I can’t move!” You tried to pull him up or out of the chair but he wouldn’t budge.

Suddenly, you could feel another presence in the room. You slowly reached for your gun, switching your attention from the man to what you thought would be the witch.

You quickly aimed your gun as you turned around only to find the room as empty as you had seen before.

“Tell me, Girl” a voice echoed with a strong Irish accent, “Have you ever been in love?” You aimed your gun in every dark corner of the room trying to find a face to the voice. “Have you ever really been head-over-heels for someone?”

“Sorry, I can’t say that I have.” You continued the conversation stalling in hope of a rescue from one of the boys.

“Oh, It’s such a shame. Surely you must love someone or like someone at least?” She asks as if wanting you to understand.

“I don’t know about that but I appreciate your concern,” you laugh as this is the last conversation you’d expect to have.

The voice laughs back. “My, I can see that you do hold a torch for someone. You might try to hide it but I can see your feelings and they are strong.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about, lady. But how about you come out here and maybe then we can swap crushes.”

“Oh, no. I need to finish my work,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Your work? You mean killing innocent men? I have to say, not a fan.” Your gun gets pulled out from your hands. “Dammit,” you mumble. You stay moving around the room keeping your senses on guard.

“You simple minded fool. My work is work of passion and love, not death.”

“Whatever you say, Witchy.” You try to look for another sort of weapon in the room.

“I just wanted to be loved. It’s not my fault that accidents happen.”

“Well, I just want you dead and like you said, accidents happen.” In the corner of your eye, you see a dagger and you move closer to it trying not to draw attention to yourself.

The witch finally appears out from the dark corner she was hiding in. “If you wanted that to happen, maybe you shouldn’t have come alone,” she says looking you dead in the eyes like a lion would do to its prey.

The door quickly busts open causing the witch to change her attention. You rush towards the dagger and then try to find if a hex bag is on the man.

“She didn’t come alone,” Dean stands in the door and aims his gun directly at the witch but before he can pull the trigger, she flings him past the cauldron and only feet away from you and the man. She sees you and immediately, light radiates from her palms and you prepare to be on the end of a fatal blow. But suddenly, Sam comes from the door, tackling the witch to the ground.

Dean gets up and takes notice of a huge gnash on his hand and finds his blood on the rim miniature cauldron. But before he can think anything more of it, he searches for his gun. You still try to find what holds the man in the chair taking off his shoes, jacket, anything that could have a hex bag inside. Sam gets thrown to the other side of the room and you see now that the witch looks even more pissed than she originally was. “Just let me do my work!” She screams as you too get tossed to the side, leaving a wide-open space in between her and the man. “I will do my work! I will be loved!” She screams and starts to mumble Latin causing the cauldron to rise and spark. Dean sees what she is about to do and before you or Sam have a chance to react to the ready to fire spell, Dean jumps in front of the man and the surge of energy from the cauldron fires right at Dean. “No!” The Witch screams. Sam runs to his gun and shoots her right in the head causing her to fall to the floor.

With the witch killed, you and Sam rush to Dean who is surprisingly still alive from the impact of the blow. “Hey,” you ask him, examining him, “you alright, big guy?”

He mumbles in return, “Peachy.” You help him up as Sam checks on the man who is no longer glued to the chair. Sam gives you the nod that he is alright and both you and Sam walk out, each helping a man down the stairs.

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

Sam starts the car back up as you leave the hospital where you dropped the man off at. “You sure you alright, Dean?” You ask leaning over the seat taking notice of his face to try and get a read on him.

“I’m great,” he replies with his ever so sly smile.

“You sure?” Sam asks.

“Yeah. I’m good to go. In fact, I say we go get some beers because we deserve it.” You and Sam look at each other quizzically both thinking of how you’ve never encountered a witch blast that came with no side effects.

“You sure you’re good?” Sam asks again with an unsure tone.

“Dude, I’m fine. I just wanna get drunk. Can you blame me?” He looks at Sam and he shakes his head while letting out a tired laugh. “Come on, let’s go have some fun!” He looks at you and hits your shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Dean, I’m exhausted and I’m surprised that you aren’t. It’s gonna be a no from me,” Sam answers.

“Y/N, what do you say? Wanna get drunk and laid?”

“Um, you sure you’re okay Dean?” You ask again.

“Guys, what the hell is with all the questions?! I’m fine. Nothing is wrong with me. Now Y/N, you wanna join or not?” Dean looks into your eyes and you look at him still concerned.

“I guess so.”

“Perfect!”

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

You and Dean pull up to a bar called “O’Malley’s” looking dressed to kill or in this case, dressed to get laid. You always carried a little black dress with you whenever you went on hunts just in case you needed to use it to work a more flirtatious angle. And from time to time, you did. You both walked inside keeping your distance from each other just to make sure no one would think the two of you were together. You have been to this rodeo before. Every now and again when Dean was a little too eager to get out of the bunker or some crap motel room, you and him would always wind up going to the nearest bar to find a little fun. Sam would always be researching something or sleeping. Tonight, Sam was doing the latter.

You took a seat at the bar leaving an opening on both your sides and ordered a strong drink. Dean, following behind you, had immediately found someone he liked and took a seat right beside her. You could hear their laughter and imagine what cheesy pick up lines Dean would use on her this time. Even though it seemed like you couldn’t stand him at times, he's your best friend and you know him better than he does himself sometimes. Dean, Sam, and Cas were all that you had. It’s been like that for roughly five years. And all you could think about right now was just wanting to go home and lie in your bed. Well, thinking about that and the stupid witch. You glanced over at Dean again seeing him even closer to the girl than before. You ordered a refill and quickly gulped it down.

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

The stupid Witch. You couldn’t stop thinking about her. You recall what she said, you remember all the talk about love and how she swears that you love someone too. “No way,” you say under your breath. You look over your shoulder again to view Dean and his lady for tonight. You watch them get up and leave. You laugh to yourself and feel the drink getting to you as you order what you think is your fourth. “How could I love someone?” You think.

You don’t even like anyone. I mean, you love the boys but that’s completely different. Cas, he’s like your guardian angel and Sam, come on, he is literally your brother. And Dean? Dean. Well... Dean is Dean. 

You order another drink putting it down the hatch even faster than the last.

Dean is annoying. You couldn’t ever like him. He’s annoying and like totally over protective and he’s way too hot to not have an ego. He’s sexy and gorgeous and way out of your league. Sure you like him but that doesn’t mean you love him. He’s annoying and so bratty. Okay, so maybe you love him a little bit but it’s just because the witch put all these thoughts in your head. You have only been in love with him for like three years, that’s all. Not even four. You push these feelings deep down and always have, I mean, It isn’t like Dean Winchester is gonna wake up one day and be in love with you.

“Miss? Miss?!” The bartender asks you.

“What?” You snap at him.

“You’ve been talking to yourself for quite some time.” The bartender says with a polite smile.

“Nu-uh.”

“Yes, you have. I believe you're drunk and in love with whoever this Dean is.”

“Pft, no I’m not.” You try to point at the bartender but somehow manage to fall off the stool. One of the men a few seats over helped you up and guided you outside. 

You stumble down the steps of the entrance, “You don’t know what love is!” You yelled at the bar. “I wanna know what love is, and I want you to show me!” Your words slowly changed from an angry fit into lyrics from a Foreigner song. You pulled out your phone as you fell to the ground and managed to call Sam.

“Hello?” Sam said tiredly.

“Do you wanna know what love is, Sam? Cause I want you to show me!”

“Are you drunk, Y/N?”

“No!” you shouted, “I don’t like how people keep assuming things about me.”

“Y/N?” Sam said, trying to get a straight answer.

“Okay, so listen, I’m drunk and Dean took Baby to probably make a baby. So I need some assistance. Hey! I’m like one of the AARP people.” You laugh, amused by your own words.

“Where are you at?”

“I’m at a parking lot outside of uh,” you look up at the blurred sign, “Old Mufasa’s.”

“That’s not a place, Y/N.” Sam sighed.

“Well then I don’t know!”

“Your phone says you're five minutes away. I’ll be there in five minutes. Just stay put.” Sam hung up.

You could hear that Sam was tired and angry which was not a good combo but you were just worried that the ant that you saw climbing a rock in the parking lot would get run over. You went over and tested your depth perception seeing if you could get the ant to a safe spot. As you nudged the little bugger on your finger, you trudged over to a patch of dirt on the side of the building. You let him go and smiled, “At least you love me, Ant.” 

You moved back to where you and tripped causing you to face plant into the ground and drift off to sleep.

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

The next morning was... interesting. You had woken up to find Dean even more hungover than you, spread out on Sam’s bed and Sam on the way too small couch. All you remember from the night before was a whole lot of alcohol and Sam coming to get you, picking you up from the ground, placing you in a car, and finally onto your bed. You couldn’t rack your brain for any more information or you might end up with an aneurism. You figured that the best thing you could do for your massive headache and the boys was to go and get coffee. You left a note on the door and headed out.

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

In the room, Sam changed his clothes out in the open not minding because it was only him and a semi-unconscious Dean. The same Dean who was spread like a starfish with blankets and sheets wrapped around him. He tried to move but was unable either from the entanglement or extra motion that made him seem even more dizzy.

“Dean, you alright?” Sam asked as he pulled on his shirt and finished getting dressed.

“Hrmp,” Dean, sort of, replied. He moved a little on the bed seeming like even a construction crew couldn’t affect his state.

“Dude, I thought Y/N was bad last night. I think It’s safe to say you take the gold.” Sam laughed and hit Dean’s feet trying to get him to move.

“What?” Dean pulled his head away from the pillow and rubbed his eyes.

“Dean, you good? I know you wanted to celebrate but I think you went a little too hard on this one.” Sam tossed a bottle of aspirin on the bed beside Dean.

“I’m--I’m uh, good?” Dean sat up slowly trying to gain some sort of balance.

“Good. Cause we have a twelve hour drive back home to the bunker and since you refuse to let me or Y/N drive--”

“Y/N?!” Dean interrupts Sam and darts up from his bed.

“What?” Sam looks at a now wide awake Dean who is staring at him right in his face.

“Y/N,” Dean says with a very excited tone, “Is she here? Where is she? She’s okay right?” He asks as his joy starts to change to worry.

Sam looks at Dean very confused but replies, “Yeah, Y/N’s out getting coffee. You okay, Dean? You don’t look so hot.”

“I don’t?” Dean asks. He looks at his appearance almost disappointed in himself. Dean is still wearing his black-tee undershirt from last night and a pair of boxers.

“Dean, you are acting like someone gave five shots of five hour energy. What’s going on?”

“I...I...I just need to see her!.” Dean paces around the room starting to panic.

“Who, Dean?” Sam goes to Dean putting his hand on his shoulder trying to get him to calm down or at least relax for a moment.

“Y/N,” Sam looks at Dean like he’s crazy, “I’ve got to see her. I just gotta.”

“Okay, how about you sit down and we figure out what is wrong with you. Alright?”

“There’s no time, Sam!” Dean yells at Sam shoving his hand away. “I’ve got to get my suit on and I need some of your cologne and uh, flowers! I need to get flowers!”

“Dean! Something is really wrong with you. You are acting crazy and I don’t understand what your new obsession is with Y/N. So please, just take a deep breath.” Sam again tries to go over to Dean getting him to calm down.

“You’re right, Sammy. I need to calm down for Y/N. I don’t want her to be frightened or--or panicked like I am.” He unconvincingly smiles at Sam but nods along with his plan.

“Good,” Sam says slowly, “Good. Now take a deep breath.” Dean takes a huge deep breath in and holds it in his puffed out cheeks. He exhales and shakes his body trying to loosen up. “Okay, Dean, what’s going on?” Sam sits on the bed with Dean who still appears to be hopped up on some kind of energy drink.

“I don’t know. I just know that everything is so clear and like this huge burden has been lifted off of me.” Dean smiles crazily at Sam.

“Okay,” Sam tries to understand why his brother is acting like an energized maniac. “When did you feel like this, ‘burden,’ was lifted?” 

“It was this morning, when I woke up and you said her name.” Dean hops up and down nodding with his whole body.

“Right, uh, Y/N’s name?” Sam tries to stop Dean from moving so much by holding down his shoulders.

“It’s the most beautiful name in the world,” Dean says while he waves his arms trying to mime the whole wide world.

“Uh-uh. Listen, Dean. I’m gonna call Cas and we are gonna figure out what’s going on.” Dean nods his head and looks at his brother with a big smile, leaving Sam’s emotions a mix between scared, creeped out, and concerned.

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

You had just stood in line for almost an hour trying to get the coffees only to have them get your order wrong. You would’ve been more upset about it but you were just eager to get away from all the noise and bright lights that made your headache ten times worse.

You reached for your room key and inserted it into the door all while trying to balance the uneven amount of coffees. You opened the door and glanced over at the boys sitting on the edge of the bed. “Good, you guys are up.” Dean stood up so quickly that his movement caught your attention. You set the cups down on a nightstand and looked towards Sam and Dean. Sam stood up beside Dean with a worrisome look. And Dean looked at you with such glee and excitement that you turned around to see if there was someone behind you. “What’s going on?” You asked as the more you looked at them the more terrified you got.

“Um,” Sam mumbled and tried to find the words, “Dean’s uh...”

“What?” You ask as you become even more worried.

“Dean... he uh... something is wrong with him.” Sam kept looking at you and Dean. You all stand still, unmoving.

“Dean?” You ask and as you do so, Dean gulps as if you managed to take his breath away when calling his name. “Dean?” You ask again and this time, the biggest smile comes on Dean’s face like an excited puppy. “Dean, wh...what is it?”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

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Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag list is open!

Chapter two: Take It Easy

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 61

~*~Sebastian~*~

It had been a long day of uncomfortable conversations, meetings, interviews, lunch with strangers, and an early dinner with friends. I'd left my room at nine and it was after eight when I slid the key card in the door.

The smell hit me fast. Roses. I flipped on the light to locate the source. Sitting on the glass dining table was a vase of red and black roses. That's a little scary. Then I noticed something with black polka dots and a bow.

"No way." They couldn't be. I pulled them free and they were. Disney mouse ears. I started laughing. There was only one person these could be from. The card said, "From one Disney lover to another. Sunt al tău, copil. Xoxo, Emma."

Emma has sent me roses signed “I'm yours, baby.” Had I not already moved my Wednesday dinner to Sunday I would have been on my phone making up shit to get out of Canada a day earlier. On the back of the card was an explanation. Red roses for romance and desire. Black for new beginnings and change. I was thinking love and hate, but this better.

I put them on and sat at the table in front of my laptop. I was about to hang up and text her when she picked up, "I'm here. I’m here. I was in the bathroom changing." Her fingers touched the screen, "You like your ears?"

"I love my ears. And my flowers. It smells great in here. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I hope you got the sarcasm. We don’t love Disney, but are Disney lovers."

"I did." It kills me that she's turned an NDA into a joke between us. Mice can't tell time and roses with ears. Emma is simply the best. She was also slowly sliding sideways.

"Are you drunk?" I turned my head to the side following her tilt.

She rubbed her hand under her nose with her eyes closed. "A little drunk. My nose itches." She repeated the action.

"Did you have a fun spa day?" I held up my hand with crossed fingers.

"I did!" She listed a little more to the side and I smiled. "There was a lot of seaweed."

"Seaweed?"

"A lot of seaweed. It started with a salt scrub, which felt really good. Then I was wrapped in seaweed and left to marinade for a while."

"Marinade." I curled my lips in trying not to laugh. This was a different drunk. She was silly.

"Next was their signature "four-hand" massage. Two people."

"That sounds fun."

"You'd think, but it was weird and creepy. I felt like I was being prepared as a virgin sacrifice to a lesser known god or maybe a volcano."

"Except you're not a virgin."

She frowned and huffed out a disgusted breath, "You don't know that."

I laughed, "Yes, I kinda do."

"Fine. I was very uncomfortable and sent one away after maybe two minutes. The massage therapist said it happens and was important for me to be comfy. It was a very good massage. She left and an aesthetician came in for my..."

She paused and I filled in, "Seaweed facial?"

She touched her nose and pointed to the camera several times. So cute. "We had a very yummy spa lunch. I had an avocado and chicken salad sandwich with these super crunchy fresh potato chips. And champagne."

"I wondered when the drinking was coming."

"Lunch when the three of us were brought back together. See, I'd had such a lovely morning and they threatened my happy and now relaxed mood. I thought bubbles would keep away the negative juju."

"Juju." I kept repeating these strange words.

"We went into this room with pedicure chairs all wrapped in white fluffy robes. The whole thing repeated itself on my hands and feet. Salt scrub, hand and foot massage, seaweed wrap, and marinade."

"I bet there was more champagne too."

"There was! We had to choose mani-pedi colors. My colors are blush and bashful. I have chosen two shades of pink, one is much deeper than the other.”

The champagne had brought out her accent even more and she fired up the Steel Magnolias’ quote. "Are your toes pink?"

"They are. I'll show you." She pulled her foot up in front of her phone instead of, you know, moving her phone to her foot. I got a brief glimpse of her toes before she fell over and slid onto the floor. "Ow."

"You ok, sweetie?"

She sat up and leaned against the side of the bed, "I am fine. We got dressed and did some shopping. Then called dad to take Katie out so we could continue day drinking by the pool. It turned into evening drinking. Ironically, I will be spending the morning at a shelter with one of my rehab therapists with a champagne hangover."

"You can do a Ted Talk on making positive choices prior to conducting volunteer services."

"You're a funny boy. Funny, funny boy." She did the weirdly cute nose scratching thing again. "I know better than to drink this much champagne. It makes my nose itch. And it's a strange bubbly sort of drunk." She pointed a finger at me, "Let me tell you something, baby boy, my mom and twin juiced up on champagne kept the day smooth. We talked skincare while lying in the sun. The irony of which is not lost on me. Oh god! There it is. When champagne is exposed to sunlight it becomes sewage." She moved very close to the screen, "Your eyes are pretty. The blue changes with your mood and they're so expressive. I want...”

Emma stopped talking and just smiled.

"What do you want, baby?" This was either going to be very sweet or very dirty. I was up for either.

Emma moved back from the screen a little. She laid her head to the side with the slightest smile, "I want to lay in your arms and look in your eyes for hours, just to see what they say."

"I think that can be arranged."

She nodded then yawned, "I'm sleepy. Will you read to me again?"

"Absolutely." I made it through a paragraph before she was asleep.

I flipped my phone over and over in my hand, trying to decide if I should call. That I couldn't decide was the decision.

Celie picked up on the third ring, "Hi Sebastian."

"Hey Celie, I hope it’s not too late."

"Not at all. It's not even nine. What's going on?"

"I just spent twenty minutes reading Winnie the Pooh to my drunk girlfriend who's a thousand miles away with her dysfunctional family. She fell asleep in less than one."

"Why'd you keep reading?"

Even though she couldn't see, I shrugged, "I wanted to." I knew she wouldn't accept that answer. "I didn't want to break the connection."

"Because you felt connected or because you felt insecure?"

"Connected."

"Good for you, Sebastian."

"Yeah." I nodded. It was good. "This morning I was insecure. I had to ask Emma to sign an NDA."

"NDA's aren't new for you."

"It's usually her people and my people working it out and I sign by the sticky arrow. I had to be involved in this one and it was gross. Made it more personal." I huffed out a breath. "Probably should have been before. I know it should. Emma and I had already talked about it and she said she didn't have a problem signing paperwork for something she'd never do anyway. But when it came down to asking her to sign it, I was terrified. What it said about her. What it said about me. What it said about us. I didn't want to hurt her or have her feel like I didn't trust her. I do trust her. All the things I’ve learned, the things I'm doing, we're doing, I was terrified they'd be ruined by this stupid NDA. I told her all that and by the time we hung up I felt more connected and secure. I think facing it and talking about it made me feel closer."

"That's what real intimacy does. You can't have real intimacy without having difficult conversations and talking about emotions. Being vulnerable. Not shutting down. Not using sex to create a hormonal and false intimacy. Risking letting your partner see you. Being emotionally available."

"Yeah." That's what I thought.

"What was Emma's response."

"She told me she wasn't going anywhere and mice can't tell time."

Celie laughed, "Mice can't tell time?"

"Disney is the only studio on the NDA. They sent it half-hour early. I went from scared to furious in a heartbeat. They sent it early because Micky Mouse, mice, can't tell time. Later she sent me roses that came with those mouse ears on a headband."

"I like her."

"Me too. I don't want to fall back into old habits. I like this. All of it. How do I keep this?"

"Keep doing the hard stuff. Having the conversations you want to avoid. You're taking risks and getting the emotional payoff. You build on that. When you hit a bump, and you will, you go back and try again." She paused, "Sebastian, you are doing things differently. When you question, check yourself, because you know what you’ve done in the past. I encourage you to take the risk to do it differently. Use your resources. You are not alone. I am here to help. You have good friends who will tell you the truth. And most importantly, you have Emma."

I laughed, "Wow, you're good."

"You don't always make it easy, but right now you are." She laughed too. "It's nice to see your hard work coming together."

"Thank you."

"You could also Google “How to know if your boyfriend is emotionally unavailable" and do the opposite."

"You know I’m going to fall down a rabbit hole now."

"In your different mindset, you may make some connections you haven’t previously. Have a good night, Sebastian."

"You too, Celie."

I thought I was in for a sleepless night with the internet. I was wrong. I made it through three articles before I shut my laptop down. The first two started with a simplified explanation of why someone is emotionally unavailable. I was already familiar with the long version. Both had lists. Roughly the same lists. Lack of serious relationships, not making an effort, and not wanting to have real conversations has never been me. I want and do them all. Difficult to reach and defensive sounds familiar. Then there were the very familiar ones. Inconsistent affection. It’s about what and when it’s acceptable; not as simple as public and private. Sometimes it wasn’t ok in private either. Misunderstanding and being dismissive. The number of times I've said “that's ridiculous" is embarrassing. Usually, it wasn't. Inability to stay present during conflict or emotionally laden conversations. "That's ridiculous" also puts a stop to those. Wanting control of the relationship. Yep, who can know what. Thinking emotions are weak. Not weak as much as dangerous. Pulling away. Everything else was just another way of pulling away.

Two lists more than covered what I know I'm guilty of. However, the familiar things are things I did and said to myself much more than to anyone else. Except the pulling away. If you tell yourself your feelings are ridiculous, put limits on what’s acceptable, and check out of emotional conversations pulling away is what happens. All those create distance even if it’s you doing it to yourself.

It took a while to find the third one. I was looking for something hopeful. If it wasn't a list of traits it was tips to make him fall for you. Emma has managed to do that quite well without the manipulation on those lists. A few pages into my Google search I found how to tell he's changed. Some were things I'd learned already. The new things with Emma: lets you in on his past; wants to change; your opinion matters; protective; and his words match his actions.

I could do these things, what sticks out, is I'm not constantly running myself down for my feelings and when I give voice to things that lead up to those feelings she doesn’t either. Emma meets me where I am and shows me a way out. A way through.

I am almost there and what I struggle with she helps me. I think that's why we have relationships. We need other people. I'm never going to be perfect and will need support. When I think of my friends, they're not perfect. I'm there for them when they need me. The last couple of days I've been there for Emma. She didn't handle it all on her own. She called me and let me be there. Let me listen and emotionally support her.

I looked at the roses she'd sent me. The ridiculous polka dot mouse ears that match her bikini, except my ears have a red bow her bikini doesn’t. I climbed out of bed, put on a shirt, and took a picture. Me in ears with a wry smile and a caption saying, "Disney lovers." went up on Instagram.

[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Seventeen

Dean isn’t even sure he believes in God. 

That sure as shit doesn’t stop him from showing up at the church every day. He sits in the silence of the times between services, surrounded by warm wood and golden light. The quiet in here doesn’t feel as drowning as it does back in his apartment. Sometimes, Dean felt like this was the only place he could really take a deep breath and be. 

It was something about the way the place was built. The idea that people sat in these exact same spots hundreds of years ago, looking for guidance or comfort. No matter how bad things got, this church was still here. Still standing. 

No matter how low Dean got, no matter how many days he spent in bed or didn’t brush his teeth or forgot to eat, the church would always be here.

“Hello, Dean.” 

And maybe there’s another reason he keeps sticking around here. Not that he’s ever going to admit that out loud. Dean tosses a little smile over to the man who sits down next to him on the pew, even though the whole damn place is empty. 

The first time it happened, it set Dean’s teeth on edge. Like the guy was trying to make him uncomfortable (he was succeeding) or to run him off (no way was he succeeding). But he figured out real fast that it was just Cas being Cas. The man had no concept of personal space. Your bubble didn’t exist in Cas’ world. Dean was starting to like it. 

When you got used to people keeping their distance from you, even the odd duck at the church who sat close to you felt like intimacy. “Hey Cas.” Dean keeps his voice pitched low, riding the edges of a whisper. They weren’t bothering anyone, but there was just something about this place. Something solemn and old that Dean didn’t want to disrupt with his loud ass voice. “How are you doing, man?”

Cas smiles at him, a slow and steady thing that makes Dean’s heart do stupid flips in his chest. It was weird, it wasn’t like Cas didn’t smile all that often. He smiled all the time. But there was something about it that felt special every time that Dean saw it. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” Sometimes, talking to Cas was like talking to a brick wall. And sometimes, it was like talking to a bulldog with a bone. Polite conversation wasn’t something he did. If he wanted to know something, he asked. And didn’t back down until you answered. Some days, Dean loved it. Some days, Dean hated it. The jury was still out about where he was standing in the road today.

“I’m doing good.” Mostly. Dean sighs, and sees the doubt in those pretty blue eyes. Cas was good at being gently judgemental, and without any words. “I’m hanging in there.” That’s the truth. Today was one of those days where getting out of bed wasn’t so easy. Dean had spent a good half hour just staring at the white paint strokes on the ceiling of his apartment, trying to will his body to do anything but feel like sludge. 

He got there. Eventually. Which meant dragging his sad carcass out of bed and changing the Metallica t-shirt and sweats he’d been wearing for the last three days. A shower had been too much of an effort, so Dean slapped on deodorant and washed his face in the sink. You had to take what you could get, some days. 

Cas smiles at him, and Dean will tell himself ninety nine times out of a hundred that the smile was the reason he admitted this stuff at all. The other time out of a hundred, he might actually admit to himself that it felt good to be able to tell somebody how he was feeling. “Now.” Dean jabs him in the shoulder with his index finger and gets a huff of laughter for his trouble. “How are you, Cas?”

Cas reaches down to tug on the sleeve of the sweater he was wearing over his button down shirt. With anyone else, Dean would have called it a nervous gesture. But Cas seemed like the kind of guy who was rarely nervous. “I’m well, thank you.” And he definitely wasn’t the type to lie. Not even little white lies to protect someone’s feelings. A fact Dean learned firsthand a few weeks ago when Cas sat down next to him on this very same pew and told him he looked awful. 

From Cas, it wasn’t a jab at Dean’s cleanliness or the fact that he’d been a little far past a haircut. It had been a moment of worry from someone who cared about him. Dean was pretty sure that if Cas wasn’t so damn pretty that all these heavy handed conversations would land a little harder. 

Lucky for him, Cas was very pretty. Like, unnaturally pretty. It was distracting, honestly. 

“Glad to hear it.” Cas was better at silences than Dean was. One settles over them as they sit, Dean lacing his hands together over the top the pew in front of him. Cas keeps his hands in his lap, shoulders nice and loose. Maybe he didn’t get lost in his head the same way Dean did. He couldn’t help but wonder what that was like. Not getting lost in the exhaustion and the worry that circled in his brain what felt like twenty four seven. 

Must be nice, that was for sure. 

“There is a summer festival they have here.” Cas knew that Dean had only been here a couple of months now. And with the way the down swings hit him, he hadn’t explored more than a few blocks from his place. The church was only around the corner from Dean’s place, and sometimes it took all the energy he had just to drag his ass over here and sit down. 

“Yeah?” Maybe it’d be close enough that Dean could see the decorations and stuff outside of his window. That’d be a nice thing to wake up to. Bright colors flapping in the wind and the sound of music and people laughing. 

“Yes.” Cas nods. “There are booths where people sell food. I don’t think there are any pies, but I know there are donuts and other sweet things.” Dean huffs a quiet laugh of his own. He’d made a comment once about liking pie, and Cas had taken it to heart. 

“That sounds awesome.” Dean’s gotten pretty good at making all the right noises at the right times. He’s had lots of practice when Sam calls. Sam tells him about his law practice and his pretty deaf wife and their struggles with conception and Dean makes all the right noises so that Sam doesn’t think about asking about Dean’s life. 

“I’d like you to go with me.” Those words snap Dean right out of his train of thought and he turns to look at Cas, wide eyed. This was a change of pace. The way things were, they sat here together, they talked in hushed whispers and they went their own ways. Dean didn’t give Cas his number, and Cas didn’t give Dean his. Their relationship existed solely within the confines of this church, even if you could call it a relationship. Dean was hesitant to even use the word friendship. And now he didn’t know what the hell was being asked of him. And which one would be worse. 

Would it be worse to kill this budding friendship on the off chance of a spark? Or would it be worse for Dean to go places with Cas and sit and stew in the feeling taking hold in his chest and never say a word about it?

“Cas-” It comes out like a warning, and for the first time, Dean sees nervousness in those deep blue eyes. But Cas, he was strong. He wasn’t the kind of guy who was going to back down. Dean always envied that about him. 

“No, Dean.” This is soft, just like the hand that reaches out to cup over Dean’s where they’ve fallen useless into his lap. “I know these kinds of declarations make you uncomfortable, but I’m not going to change the subject.”

“Geez.” Dean laughs nervously, his heart pounding a loud tattoo against his ears. “Call a guy out, why don’t you? Isn’t that cutting a little close to the quick?”

Cas doesn’t rise to the bait, and Dean thinks maybe he’s grateful that he didn’t. Cas takes a deep, audible breath, steeling himself before he speaks again. “I enjoy our talks. You’re my friend, and I want what’s best for you. But I have to say something.”

Oh shit, here it is. Dean can feel his hackles raising. He can smell a well meaning, but misguided intervention from a mile away. Hell, the last time this happened he was living back in the states with Benny. Dean took that talk so badly that he moved across the ocean just to get away from it. 

Dean starts to pull his hands away, but Cas’ grip tightens, keeping Dean’s hands pinned against his knee. “I care about you, Dean. And I want to keep our friendship. But I can’t keep going on without telling you how I feel.”

Wow. Well, okay. That was not what Dean was expecting. He swallows, a little white around the eyes like a spooked horse, but still pinned to the spot by Cas’ gravel voice. “This isn’t where I saw this going, if we’re being honest.” Yeah, there’s that half manic nervous laugh again. Cas knew him. Cas knew all his bullshit and his depression. How could he still want that?

“Dean.” He’s never known anybody else who could help curb the tide of rising anxiety in his chest with a single word like Cas could. “I care about you. And I’d like you to come with me to the summer festival.” There’s an awkward beat there, Cas working up his nerve. “Romantically.”

“Like a date?” Romantically made it sound like so much more than a date. Like there was weight behind it. (Dean liked the sound of ‘romantically’ a lot better than he liked the sound of dating.)

“A date.” Cas nods, solemn and sweet as ever, and not for the first or the damn last time, Dean wonders what it would be like to kiss him. Just to feel the pressure of lips. Maybe he’d get to feel the way a smile felt on Cas’ lips, up close and personal. 

He could have that, maybe. If he manned up and went to the summer festival with him. “I’d like that. I’d like it a lot, actually.” Dean can’t let himself think about the next low swing or what he’d do if the festival happened on a day he had a hard time getting out of bed. 

“I’ll come to you. Early. That way, if you’re having one of your bad days, we have plenty of time to help you feel well enough to go.” Cas answers, like he’s reading Dean’s thoughts in neon above his head. 

It was enough to make his throat tight. Dean had never had anybody before who saw him, and wanted to stick around. He was a handful on his good days. For Cas to know how low he got and still want to go out with him? That was huge. And planning for a low swing? That was more than icing on the cake. That was a whole other damn cake. 

Dean feels warm, right beneath his sternum. It’s a feeling he hasn’t felt since before they buried his dad, all those years ago. 

It was hope. 

“Guess that means I should give you my address and my cell number.”

Cas’ grip on his hands finally loosens, but he doesn’t pull away. He brushes his thumb over the ridges of Dean’s knuckles and smiles. 

“I guess you should.”

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {14}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. 3 years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

Note: Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought.

**Slightly Edited/Proofread**

**Partially Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤️  ❤️ ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 14: Finding Vixen

 -Vixen-

   “Wow, things are moving quickly.”

   You spun around the construction site the crew was making progress with the space that would be your restaurant. You couldn’t believe in a matter of weeks what was happening.

   “Things move quickly when everything aligns,” Zack responded from behind you. You looked to him and smiled, but as you stared at him, you only saw one face looking back at you. The smile slipped from your lips, and you gulped down the emotion threatening to spill out. Turning your back, you tried your best to pull yourself together.

    “You okay Vixen?”

   Clearing your throat, you nodded as you took a few steps away to what would or could be the spot for the outdoor eating spot. You bit your bottom lip, while a swell of pride and accomplishment fulled you, sadness and a feeling of being overwhelmed flooded you as well. It had been four days since you’d seen Chris, four days since your entire world had come crashing down, four days since the feelings you thought were long gone surfaced again, four days since the encounter you’d always dreaded and planned would go smoothly went the opposite. Sighing you took a deep breath and turned to face Zack, Kassius and the small team that was assembled for your expansion.

 “Are you happy with this so far? Any suggestions?”

   Glancing around you took in the demolition that looked just to have begun. You shook your head.

   “No, this looks to be the beginning nothing much to make suggestions on. I’d like to look at it again once it’s cleared out, just want to make sure everything transitions right.”

   “Absolutely. I’ve seen Giovanni’s in San Fran; I can imagine how particular you are about the visual of your restaurant. As long as we’re on schedule, things should be clear in another day or two,” Timothy one of the members of the team said.

   You nodded and made your way to the front door as everyone else followed. When you stepped out into the LA sun, you placed your sunglasses on your nose. Zack approached beside you and put his hand on the small of your back.

   “Are you sure you’re okay?”

   “Yes, I’m fine. I just haven’t gotten a lot of sleep the last few days, and it’s always a hassle moving in.”

   Zack nodded and slowly rubbed your back. You tried not to shy away from his touch.

   “I can treat you to a relaxing night, dinner, a drink, maybe a massage.”

   He smiled softly, and you felt the genuineness of his offer, but you knew it wasn’t something you were going to pass on. You smiled, hoping to soften the blow.

  “You’re so sweet Zack, I appreciate it, I really do, but since the move, Ella hasn’t gotten back to her regular sleeping schedule I need to focus on her right now. I’m sorry.”

  He looked as if he were trying to swallow the rejection. You hoped he wouldn’t make it a big thing. In all truth, while you liked his company, you really didn’t want to date. You didn’t feel much of anything for anyone, except him. Zack nodded, looked down, and nodded some more.

   “I understand. You’re a mom first. It’s admirable. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not disappointed, but I understand. Just uh—I want you to know that I like you Vixen, I didn’t expect it, but there it is. I would like to get to know you better really try to build something with you.”

   “Uuugh, jeez Vix. What do you say to that?”

   After you looked around you taking notice of how close the others were you decided now wasn’t the right place to let him down. You also didn’t want to lead him on.

   “All right Vixen, so we’re going to schedule another walk through once all demo is done, and we’ll make some decisions. I have a few mocks for you to look over and hopefully by then we’ll have some ideas,” Kassius said.

   “Yes, I’ll look over these.”

   You took the folder that looked thicker than a George A. Romano novel and bugged your eyes out.

  “Good lord.”

   “Yes, a lot of decisions to be made, this is the fun part,” he finished with a broad smile on his face.

   “I’ll see you then. Are you coming, Zack? We’re still on for golf?”

   Zack looked at you and nodded once he realized you weren’t going to respond to his declaration. You were glad your shades were darker than the midnight sky because your eyes weren’t hiding anything.

   “Yeah. I’ll call you,” Zack said before he walked to Kassius and the two walked off to Kassius’ bright red sports car. You nodded your head to the rest of the team and made your way to your rental car.

   You looked into the mirror and shook your head before you started your engine to begin on your to-do list. At the top was picking up some more groceries, then some office supplies and then to pick up some stuff for Ella. You hated the grocery places around the house; they were overpriced for no reason, and the produce never looked fresh. That meant you were going to drive over five miles to get to the supermarket Zack told you about—Gleason’s.

   As you drove your mind drifted back to seeing Chris. The last time you’d seen him, you’d told him to have a nice life. You were pissed and hurt, and it seemed like a good enough thing to say. Shit, you didn’t even know why you were pissed, you brought it on yourself. You were stupid enough to think that there was anything possible between the two of you.

   You should have known better. The way he carried himself, the way he spoke, and dressed it screamed bachelor, screamed down for a good time and nothing more. Every alarm rang off in your head about him the minute you saw him at the table. Everything in you screamed “don’t,” but the other voice in you said, “just do it, it’s Vegas.” Yeah well, “it’s Vegas” turned into a kid and haunting memories. That didn’t change the fact that he was still gorgeous and his shoulders were bigger than ever.

   “Of course he had to be gorgeous. Of course he couldn’t turn ugly or have gained thirty pounds of fat. No, he got sexy as fuck and gained thirty pounds of muscle.”

   You groaned loudly and focused again on the GPS that predicted you’d reach your destination in five minutes. Once you parked in the lot, you roamed the aisles pushing the cart before you.

  “Black tea, herbal tea, coffee, check.” You dropped the items in the cart and went perusing down the next.

   “Rice Krispies, honey bunches of oats, oatmeal, flour, food coloring, sugar, yeast, check.”

   You turned down the refrigerator aisle to scan for eggs, milk, butter, cheese, yogurt, orange juice, coffee creamer, jello, cream cheese, and that disgusting iced coffee drink Nexus loved. With your list about half done you allowed yourself to get distracted in the produce section where they held fresh flowers. You loved fresh flowers. There were pink, red, blue, yellow and even white flowers of all varieties. You decided on two beautiful assortments of pink and yellow roses and a separate one of pink orchids, you loved orchids. Tipping your head down to take a whiff of the fragrant flowers you looked over to the other side of the section and saw the actor Nexus was losing her mind over—Anthony Mackie. Quickly putting the flowers in your cart you made a u-turn to get back on track, you definitely didn’t want a run in.

   Just as you thought you were safe in the bread aisle holding two selections of bread, one you liked and one Ella couldn’t get enough of you you saw him. Your legs thought you had time to make another getaway, but your brain knew better, he saw you too. Anthony approached you with a friendly smile on his face as he tipped his hat lower. You knew it was pointless, but you still turned and rolled out the aisle. As soon as you made it to the soda and water aisle, he was at your side.

   “Vixen right?”

   Sighing, you nodded. “That’s right.”

   “I’m going to say you didn’t see me, that’s why you walked away; otherwise, that was rude.”

   You snorted and shook your head. He had to be kidding.

   “I was trying to protect your incognito look. I’m thinking if these people knew they were walking next to The Falcon himself they’d draw a scene and there goes your disguise. By the way, that’s a horrible disguise.”

   Anthony chuckled and nodded his head.

   “Of course you’re as snarky as your sister. Speaking of, how is she? Is she here?”

   You looked at Anthony as he quickly looked up and down the aisle as if looking for her. Scoffing again you responded, “No, she’s not here. Why does it matter?”.

   “Just curious.”

   “Bullshit!”

   You laughed out loud and pushed the cart further and placed other items in your cart. “I can see right through you. Looks like another one bites the dust.”

   “Another one bites the dust? What does that mean?”

   “It means you’ve been hit with the Nexus haze. Almost every man that speaks to her for any amount of time falls under her spell. You Mr big-time movie star are no different.”

   Anthony smiled and shrugged, but he didn’t look as smug as he usually did, no this time he looked as if he felt threatened as if he were worried. He should be Nexus wasn’t half a woman like these barbie doll actresses and models she was one hundred percent that bitch and she was a force to be reckoned with. The two of you walked in silence for a few feet.

   “So, I learned a fun fact recently. You’d never believe it,” Anthony began.

   “Oh yeah, what fun fact is that?”

   “Three years ago, a woman went to Vegas for some fun and ended marrying Captain America himself.” Your brain failed to communicate with your legs, and you just stopped in the middle of the aisle.

   “He told him. Shit!”

   “But you believe it, because—,” Anthony leaned into your ear and whispered. “You are that woman.”

   You looked to him, unsure what to say. You could deny, deny, deny, but you were sure Chris was the one to tell him. You sighed again.

   “Don’t worry, he’s my best friend, your secret is safe with me.” You walked again and turned down another aisle.

   “Was it shock that had you running like a bat outta hell, or was it something else? Do you hate him?”

   “I hate no one; there is no time for all of that. I have too many things to accomplish.”

  “Okay, a mature one. He lucked out,” Anthony joked. The humor of it was lost on you. You didn’t bother laughing or smiling about it either.

   “It was good seeing you again, take care,” you rushed out as you walked to the cash-out. You didn’t know if you’d gotten everything, but you needed to get out of there. It was insane; every second you spent around him, you felt it was only a matter of time before he saw the truth through your eyes, or seeping from your pores.

   You unloaded the groceries on the belt then saw Anthony help. Rolling your eyes, you stayed quiet.

   “How do you feel about seeing him again after so long?”

   Groaning you turned to him your frustrations seeped out. “What’s it to you? What’s with all the questions? We did what we did, but we also went through with the divorce, it’s all water under the bridge now. No need to keep talking about it.”

   Anthony studied you as you continued to unload the groceries so the cashier could do her job. You were usually good at keeping your emotions in check, but everything was becoming a lot more difficult. You hated it.

   “Whew, that sounds like a lot of hurt and anger, years worth of it. Maybe not so much water under the bridge, huh.” Antony’s eyes bored into you, and you narrowed yours. Anthony nodded again and stepped back.

   “Take care of yourself Vixen. Oh, and could you give your sister a message for me? Tell her I didn’t mean to hurt her, I didn’t plan on it. I was telling her the truth.”

   As quickly as he appeared, he disappeared, allowing you to focus again. You moved as quickly as you could to wrap up the rest of your errands. By the time you made it home, the sun was down, and you had a car full of shit. After thirty minutes of unloading and unpacking, you dropped onto the couch to catch your breath. Ella ran to you, you quickly scooped her up and dropped kiss after kiss across her face. She released an uproar of giggles that made your heart swell.

   “Top, top, top!”

   “No, no, no, take all mommy’s kisses, take them all!”

   Her laughter filled the entire room, and soon, Nexus was beside you holding Ella down as she tickled her small ribs. This only made her wiggle and scream even more. The two of you slowly stopped, and Ella settled down comfortably in your arms, holding tightly to you.

  “Long day?”

   You looked to Nexus and nodded.

   “That’s a big book.”

   “It is, and I have a few more days to look through and find my aesthetic for the next round of meetings. Things are moving fast. Maybe we can be in and out of LA sooner than I thought.”

   Nex gave you a look that said: “be real, aren’t you forgetting something.” You ignored it and flipped through the design pages.

   “Vixen.”

   “What do you think of this one? It’s airy and modern but still has a traditional vibe.”

   Flipping to another page, you have the book your full attention. Seeing another contender, you showed your sister.

   “Ooh, this looks very modern like a real celebrity restaurant. Doesn’t say much to traditional comfort but what the hell step into the times, right.”

   “Vixen!”

   “What!?”

   “You know what,” Nexus exasperated. You shrugged and continued to flip the pages determined not to address what Nex clearly wanted you to.

   “Vixen, you know damn well you can’t leave LA without telling Chris about Ella.” You groaned and rolled your eyes.

   You knew you shouldn’t have told her shit. Now it would be even harder to ignore the shoulds. When you didn’t answer after a few minutes, she took the heavy binder off your lap and placed it on the side table nearest her. Groaning you stood and walked back in the kitchen to busy yourself, hoping it would distract you. You took out the meat for the meatballs you planned on making to accompany the spaghetti—Ella’s favorite. Refusing to take the hint, Nex walked in and crossed her arms before the island. You knew ignoring her would only work for so long, but you were going to milk it for every second you could.

   You took out the flour and the other ingredients to make your signature pasta. Once you opened the fridge to grab some tomatoes and herbs for your sauce and closed the door, you came face to face with Nexus’ annoyed face. You snorted unable to hide your amusement.

   “This isn’t funny Vix. It’s serious and a huge thing. It’s not just your life; you’re impacting. There are two other people, one small who cannot make a decision and the other who--,”

   “Who what Nex? You don’t know him. You don’t know what he’s really like,” you blurted out slamming the cutlery drawer a tad harder than you intended.

    “What the hell does that mean?”

   Again you ignored her and began washing your produce, focusing on getting every invisible speck of dirt. You’d told her the cliff notes version, beginning, middle, then end. You didn’t tell her the in between. You didn’t want to relive it out loud, you were fine keeping it a trip you took every night before you went to sleep. Once the produce was washed, you got to work chopping and dicing. You knew you were stressed because the knife was moving faster than ever and you knew she saw it too.

   “I’m waiting. What does that mean? What is he really like?”

   Kissing your teeth, you shook your head, “Forget it, Nex; it’s not important.”

   “Clearly it is. There has to be a reason why you never told him about her, a reason you never claimed the child support that was rightfully yours. You know you could have used it while you were pregnant and the parts of the first year. Why? Did he hurt you? does he hit women?”

   Nex shifted her stance, and you knew she was ready to pop off. She’d always been your keeper, your protector. You remembered a few girls she’d seriously beat down because they looked at you wrong across the playground. You sighed out, taking a pause with the chopping to give her a reassuring look.

   “No, he didn’t hit me.” You saw her shoulders relax and her expression softening; then you returned to the task at hand.

   “So he didn’t hit you. He did hurt you though.”

   Nexus was no idiot. She knew how to hear what you said and decipher what you didn’t. You did your best to give no reaction as you moved around the kitchen.

   “Okay, I get it. You didn’t tell him to spite him.”

   “No!”

   Though you adamantly rebuked that, part of you felt a way and you wondered if any part of you felt that way.

   “Okay. So he hurt you, you ran back home with your tail tucked, and you hid away for the next near three years. What did he do?”

   “Nex, please. It’s not important. Let’s drop it.”

   “I’m trying to help. You seem to be ignoring or purposely forgetting that you have to tell him. I owe him nothing, and I don’t know him from Adam and my loyalties don’t lie with him that’s with you--,”

   “So drop it. Have my back, be my pitbull!”

   “Vix, don’t ever get it twisted and think I’m not riding for you one hundred. It’s always been you and me against the world, and it’s still that way. Just—this goes past that. This is a morally right and wrong issue. How would you feel not knowing you had a mini replica of you running around the world?”

   “Fine, because I wouldn’t know.” Nexus walked around the island to you and put her arm around you. She could sense your breakdown was imminent. She gently rubbed your bare arm and let the silence fill the room. You closed your eyes, hoping to stop your warring thoughts. Of course part of you knew what she was saying was sound and right, but the other side refused to hear it.

   “You’re afraid,” Nexus worded.

   There it was plain as day, no hidden pretenses, no shade, no covers, just blatant truth. You were afraid. You were shitfaced scared.

   “It’s okay to be scared. There is nothing wrong with it. Hell if you weren’t scared I’d be worried because that would show that you really have no intention of doing the right thing. I know you, Vix, do the right thing is your middle name. Somewhere inside you know you have to tell him, want to or not, have to and should outweigh it this time.”

   “This is why I didn’t want to go to that stupid expo or come to this dumb place. It has a way of stealing and crushing dreams,” you groaned out.

   “Or realigning them and showing you a new, different, better dream.”

   You glanced at Nexus, took a deep breath, and released it. She was right — bottom line.

   “Fuck!”

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Chris-

  415-653-7575.

   It wasn’t hard to get. All he had to do was google her and her location. He had all her information from three years ago. He had her full name, city, state, P.O Box information. In truth, he had everything he needed, and if he needed more, he could easily get more, it was a perk of being him. In all the years he didn’t use it, didn’t search, didn’t allow his curiosity to take over. Today he did.

   It took him less than a minute to find her on Google, her name was uncommon, there was literally one Vixen Giovanni in San Francisco. It took him another minute to find her restaurant. Her restaurant. He was impressed. She said she wanted to open a restaurant and be a chef and she’d accomplished it, and she was successful. He spent nearly twenty minutes just looking through food reviews, articles, and pictures all of her and everything he remembered thinking and feeling those years ago came back.

   He suspected it would be like this—feared it really which made him avoid doing this very thing for so long. He was afraid he was right, and he was. It took him the next hour to get the balls to call the number for her restaurant. An hour where he went over and over what he would say. He didn’t know where you were; it had been nearly a week since he saw you, you could have gone back to San Francisco.

   He went over and over what he would say if you answered. He didn’t know if he should go with a calm and cool introduction; “Hey Vixen, remember me your ex-husband,” or an apologetic one; “I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from but—.” It was impossible to read you from the quick exchange days ago. You hadn’t spoken, you didn’t look angry, or happy or anything, your expression was blank, and then you were gone. He didn’t know what to expect.

   When hour two was near, he bit the bullet and dialed your restaurant. The hostess transferred him to the manager who informed him you were out of town. Due to his quick thinking, he pretended to be interested in a potential business opportunity, it was then the manager gave him your cell phone number. He was surprised it was that easy. Now that was where he was, staring at your number with a bottle of beer on his right side, whiskey on the other and a joint in his hand. He leaned back and took several long puffs before holding them for a breath allowing the drug to haze away all his thoughts. Once he blew out the smoke, he took a long swig of his beer.

   “Jesus Chris, it’s not hard, just dial the number. One step at a time.”

   He took up his phone and punched in the numbers and hovered his finger over the green button, thinking about his actions one last time. Taking another long pull from his joint, he tapped the button and put it on speaker. It rang once, twice, three times and before he tapped the red button to end the call, a voice called out through the line.

   “Hello?”

   His brain froze, and speech did with it, so he sat there completely flustered.

   “Hello? Anyone there?”

   Still, he didn’t speak. Only when the line went dead did he move, he dropped back against the couch and groaned loudly into the night sky.

   “Come on, man!”

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****If the spacing is all messed up I apologize. I copy and past from Word and try to anticipate Tumblr messing up the spacing and fix it but once I push post everything always jumbled out. Sorry guys.

[vilanele]

   killing eve sentence starters.    season 2, episode 4 - 6.

bit of a cock-up this isn't it really?

you know what they say. one cock-up is an accident. two cock-ups starts to look like carelessness. or a threesome.

jesus christ! if i wanted to get screwed til my asshole bled, i'd go down to torture garden on a friday night and ask for the full shitting english!

now i'm the cunny left holding this shitcake.

she just won't shut up about being vegan.

i like her body, i just don't like her.

i'll put your head in a box.

don't be a snot.

show her how boring this other woman is compared to you.

seriously, do not go shopping on your own again.

what really annoys me is that these teenagers probably make ten times our salary.

they sit around on bean bags, talking about which doctor who companion they'd like to spaff off to.

i'm sick to death of talking about the old bastard.

you could almost say it's none of your business.

people do die, i'm afraid.

people are being murdered.

if you two are our nation's great hope, i'll start building the bunker now.

wow! you look amazing! can i take a picture of you for my instagram?

don't be pathetic. get a real life.

don't behave like a little girl.

i'm gonna get myself to sleep tonight, imagining kicking him out of a window onto a railing.

bullies are really just cowards.

pretty cowardly to get someone else to do your dirty work.

these deaths are becoming more frequent.

i mean, it's one thing getting murdered, but the indignity of being found bleaching your moustache...

she would've known where the bodies were buried, so to speak.

i do not like to be watched.

blimey, it's realistic, isn't it?

they are taking precautions to keep us safe. that is all.

none of this is normal, and having you who tries to gaslight me into thinking that it is, isn't normal either, and it's not kind.

i don't do girls, sorry.

i think i once got a handjob in here, under this very table.

that is so romantic.

do you ever not talk about sex?

want to have a good time? i've got everything you want. i've got ups, i've got downs.

what if one of the kids got a tenner in a birthday card and i'm putting it in my pocket like an asshole?

do you want us to shoot you in front of the kids?

what do you think he's saying? 'i can't satisfy my wife in bed!'?

i don't think yelling's gonna work.

i don't think i have the stomach for it.

you told me to get a hobby.

did you see his number plate? i'd have killed him for free.

if you start killing people for free, we are both in trouble. and broke.

don't worry your pretty little head about it.

they'll be making a killing, so to speak.

'gun for hire'? it's a little basic bitch for her.

let's put a hit out on me!

you are joking? i can't tell if you're joking...

so you're just going to tie me up outside like a dog?

if you're not doing the boring stuff, that's not because you're special. it's because someone doesn't want a paper trail on you.

you chose that photo? oh god, i look awful. i was so hungover that day.

you were happy to shoot me.

are you lonely?

i've just eaten a kilo of madras.

i'll only be safe as long as she trusts me.

if you can't stomach this, i'm sorry. that's not my problem.

can you take your shoes off please?

can i take your... veil?

you've been so distracted lately, i thought you'd forgotten about me.

you could have killed me.

that is so stupid.

what if i hit you with a car? what if i shot you?

what did you do?! what did you do?! why did you do that?! i didn't think you would actually do it!

do you think i'm insane?

will you give me everything i want?

you left your door open.

are you sure this is legal?

would you like to watch?

you are just take, take, take.

you look like someone stuck a moustache on some fudge.

i came here to tell you that you don't have anything to worry about.

it's crazy, right? you would think i was the bad guy.

smell ya later.

i like you, but i don't like you that much.

did you like it? do you like all this? does it excite you?

do you want me to love you or do you want me to frighten you?

this feels like a one-night stand.

i was up all night trying to work out why i felt so unbelievably shitty and sad.

don't ask me to stay.

this is an obvious breakfast choice.

i can't stand breakfast - it's just constant eggs. why? who decided?

there is nothing hidden that will not be revealed.

my brother used to jam his hamsters into an old loo roll, prod them through with a toothbrush - see how many he could do in a minute. he could do three.

getting someone close to him is about as easy as getting a sex offender into a convent.

you're not yelling, but it feels like you're yelling.

we want to make you an offer which doesn't involve killing someone.

you want me to not kill someone? you do know what i do, right?

i don't like to be challenged.

you're the real boss, aren't you?

do you know how often these jokes get made?

nothing a BJ and a compliment won't fix in my experience.

you will never understand how much harder it is to be nice and normal and decent than it is to be like you.

the group can smell bullshit from a mile away.

don't you ever do that again.

i like you but i don't like you that much.

don't forget - the only thing that makes you interesting is me.

i have real trouble telling the truth.

how come everybody else isn't screaming with boredom too?

i'm just so bored.

why do rich people talk like children?

do you want to come in, have a cuppa?

i hope you like the missionary position.

i dread to think where you'll be happy.

interested in business are you? no offence but you don't seem the type.

ignore him, he's an asshole.

try not to be too nosey on your way back. it's not polite.

don't let him see that he's rattled you.

you seem to have the mind of a five-year-old.

if you're going to lie, at least do a bit of research.

i get it. you're a bully.

why would i even bother to have a conversation with someone like you?

my nose is bleeding.

i hate to be strict but she really mustn't kill anyone.

[smylealong]

Embers and Snowflakes - Zutara Week 2020 - Reunion (Modern AU)

@zutaraweek Katara pulled at the hem of her blue sequined dress that ended at her mid-thigh. “Isn’t this a little too short?”

“No,” Suki drawled, without even looking up from her magazine.

“You didn’t even look!”

“Don’t have to.”

Katara rolled her eyes. “Is Jet here yet?”

“Nope.”

Katara adjusted the spaghetti strap of her dress in a self-conscious act. “I don’t want to go. I don’t know what I was thinking when I said yes.”

Suki dropped the magazine on the table and turned to look at her. “Katara! What’s going on?”

With a sigh, Katara sat down on the chair, “Jet asked me out.”

Suki licked her lips and said, “Okay? And?”

“I don’t know. I mean I like him, but I don’t love him.”

“Okay, and did you say that to him?”

Katara shifted uncomfortably. “Not in so many words.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him I would think about it.”

Suki sighed, “No, Katara! If you don’t want to date him, just say so.”

Katara leaned back on the couch and tried to gather her thoughts. “I… I can’t.”

“Can’t what? Tell Jet that you are not into him or move on from your past?”

Katara sighed and closed her eyes, “Both, I guess?”

“Katara, no. You must stop this. It is fine if you are still hung up on your past. What is not fine is stringing the guy along like this. I mean I’m no big fan of his, he seems obnoxious as heck and I get the feeling that he can stir up trouble, but what you are doing is helping neither him nor you. You’re acting like his girlfriend, by agreeing to go with him to every damn party. Don’t give him ideas. If you want to say no to him, say so. Flat out. You have to figure out what you want. And soon.”

“I don’t know,” Katara said, grabbing her head in her hand. “I want to move on. But … Something stops me.”

Suki leaned over and patted her hand. “You are allowed to have fun, Katara. It is okay if you want to live your life.”

“You think I should date Jet?”

“That is a decision only you can make,” Suki said. “Tell you what? Go to this party and consider if this is what you really want for the foreseeable future. If it looks like you can handle it, then go for it. Step out a little. If not, nip it. Sounds fair?”

Katara nodded. When put like that, it did sound fair.

“He can get a tad clingy though.”

Katara’s lips quirked a bit. “He does that, doesn’t he?”

“Make sure you remember that if you do choose to date him.”

Katara turned to her roommate and soon to be sister-in-law to say something when the bell of their tiny apartment rang. Katara took a deep breath, trying to tell herself that she was doing the right thing. While Suki opened the door, Katara stood up.

“Hi, Jet.”

“Hi Suki. Is Katara ready?”

Suki simply stepped aside to let him in. Jet was dressed in a chocolate brown suit, with a white shirt. He had gelled his hair to brush it backward. Stepping into the house, he looked at Katara. His eyes raked over her body in a way she was not entirely comfortable with, and he let out a whistle, “Wow. You’re looking nice.”

Katara swallowed and forced herself to smile. You can do this, Katara. Relax a little. She squared her shoulders and walked over to the shoe rack.

“Thanks. Let’s go,” she said putting on her matching heels.

Jet held out a hand but Katara pretended she did not see it as she busied herself with her purse.

***********************************************************************************

Katara downed the wine in one swig. This party reminded her of the reason she was reluctant to date Jet in the first place. He had brought her to his office party as his date. But now, like always, he was the center of attention. He was sweet-talking to some people, regaling them with some tale as they hung on every word of his, while she was sitting on the sidelines, drinking wine, and nursing a bruised ego.

It was not that she envied him his silver tongue. That was what had drawn her to him in the first place. The smooth nature and sheer charisma that he possessed had momentarily, made her forget … everything. Sometimes, he could take her mind off the constant emptiness, grief, and guilt that threatened to suffocate her. Jet had made her feel like a girl again, something she thought she had forgotten after him. And those were the reasons she was considering saying ‘yes’ to him.

But, in addition to his clinginess, she also had to wonder if she was okay with being Jet’s arm-candy. Supposed to be there at his beck and call, when he needed to show her off. But when he was at the receiving end of attention, she would be cast away, only to be retrieved later when he needed an ego massage. Problem was, Katara knew that she had never really learned to say no to Jet. He had a tendency to sulk when things didn’t go his way, and for reasons she wasn’t entirely certain, Katara found herself indulging his wishes.

Katara kneaded her temple, trying to figure out what to say to Jet. She did not want to be treated like a trophy, to be brought out only when someone wanted to show her off, kept away on the shelf for the rest of the time. But she did not want to nurse a broken heart for the rest of her life either. She wanted to move on.

“Hey, Katara,” Toph’s voice cut through the vortex of darkness that was her thoughts.

“Hey, Toph.”

“What are you doing here all alone?”

Katara made a face, knowing it was pointless, “Take a guess.”

“Jet ditched you again to go frolic somewhere?”

Katara let her silence do the talking.

Toph huffed, “Typical. You know what, let me introduce you to my new partner. I have a feeling you’ll like him.”

“New partner?”

Toph rolled her milky eyes, “What do you think this party is for?”

“Jet didn’t really elaborate. He just said it’s an office party.”

Toph sighed, “That guy! If he were not phenomenal at his job, I’d be kicking his butt for being so irresponsible. Anyway, as you may know, the Bei Fong Corp was looking to expand beyond the Earth Kingdom. This business family who already has a presence all over got wind of it and reached out to me with a lucrative deal. Long story short, we are partnering with them so we can start off big in Caldera.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of all that. Congrats.”

“Come, let me introduce you. You look morose.”

Katara chuckled, “I saw what you did there, Toph.”

Toph guffawed, “Let’s go.”

As she walked with Toph, she wondered about her relationship with the blind woman. Even though she was Jet’s boss, Katara and Toph met through their common friend Aang. In fact, Aang had asked Toph out last year and they were now a couple. She had initially worried about being so friendly with Jet’s boss, but Katara and Toph got along like house on fire. Toph was the girl friend Katara had yearned for all her life, but never really had.

“Do you even know where we are going, Toph?”

“Of course,” she scoffed. “Come on.”

Katara always marveled at Toph’s ability to navigate through the bustling throng of people. It was eerie the way she moved, with complete assurance and without fail. In three years, she had only seen her bump into things or people maybe three times. Katara was convinced that it was a superpower.

The two women reached a group of people that were engaged in a conversation. Toph tapped the shoulder of a tall man in a black suit who was standing with his back to them, and said, “Hey, Partner. I want to introduce you to someone.”

The man turned around and Katara felt as though the ground beneath her fell away. Blood drained from her face and her jaw dropped. She did not even notice when the people he had been talking to moved away. All she could do was look at the man standing in front of her. Staring back at her was an exceedingly familiar face, angular, sharp, and handsome. The angry red scar still looked just as prominent as she remembered, but thanks to his current hairstyle, it blended with his face. It was him.

“Zuko?” she breathed, daring to utter his name in public for the first time in six years.

He gave a small smile and nodded, “Hi, Katara.”

“You guys know each other?” Toph’s incredulous voice came to her as though from miles away.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to find the words to respond. Her breath was stolen from her.

“Yeah,” Zuko answered, not taking his eyes off her. “We were childhood friends.”

While not technically wrong, but that was far from the whole truth. It did not speak about their shared past. The love they held for each other. Their torrid affair. Or their brief marriage. Or Zara.

“How are you, Katara?” Zuko asked, his golden eyes pinning her in place.

For Katara, the world around her ceased to exist. Nothing mattered anymore. Standing in front of her was the man she had loved from before she knew what love meant. And the one she would keep loving till her dying day. Nothing had changed. She had deluded herself into believing that she had learned to live without Zuko, but in just one second, he had shattered the illusion. She had not moved on. She never would. Jet and his attention suddenly seemed childlike in comparison.

She gave a small, tight smile and said, “I … I’m okay. You?”

“Going on,” he replied. When he lifted his scotch to his lips, she noticed the tremble in his hands. She felt a thrill of savage pleasure that even he was not unaffected at this surprise reunion.

She swallowed the icy chunk of nervousness lodged in her throat and pushed the painful images that fought to come to the fore, casting in her mind to say something. She jumped to the obvious. “H-How are Uncle Iroh and Ursa?”

“Uncle’s fine. Just old age issues. Mom’s no more,” he replied, his golden gaze boring into her. “Her cancer returned.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry to hear that,” she meant it.

Somewhere in the recess of her mind, she was aware of the expression on Toph’s face. Her friend was getting very curious, but Katara only had eyes for Zuko. He nodded and licked his lips. His eyes dropped to her lips and she knew he was thinking about the same thing she was. Their kisses. They were, undoubtedly the best kisses she had ever had. Katara bit her lip, suddenly conscious. “How’s Azula?” She asked, hoping to concentrate on anything except the tornado raging inside her.

“Azula is still where she was,” Zuko replied cryptically. Katara knew he did not want to talk about the fact that his sister was currently in a padded cell. Not that she blamed him. She could understand that he would not want to talk about it in front of strangers.

“I see,” she said, wishing she had not left her wine on the table. A sob, six years in making, was building up within her, threatening to break through. Katara blinked rapidly, trying to push away the tears. When her vision focused back, Zuko was looking at her with raw pain on his face. Maybe he too…

“How are Sokka and Hakoda? And Gran?” he rasped, cutting through her train of thoughts. Katara spotted that his fingers were white from clutching his glass tightly.

“Gran passed away two years ago. Old age,” Katara said, willing her heart to stop beating so loud. “Dad’s fine. Sokka too. He’s about to get married soon, in fact.”

“Sorry about Gran. And really, Sokka’s getting married? To whom? That girl … what’s her name …Yuki … no Yue?”

“Oh no! Sokka broke up with Yue a while back. He began dating someone else. That’s who he’ll be marrying next month.”

“That’s great.”

“Katara!” Jet came up to her and draped an arm around her shoulders. Every inch of Katara screamed No. Across from her, she saw Zuko narrow his eyes ever so slightly but otherwise, his face remained impassive. If she had not known Zuko as well as she did, she would not even have noticed the change of expression on his face. “Oh, I see you’ve met Zuko. We’ll be working together for a while, till the office in Caldera is set up.”

“I heard,” Katara said as she subtly wiggled out of Jet’s embrace. Every pore, every fiber of her wanted to move away from Jet. She had the overwhelming urge to cling to her ex-husband and cry into his shoulders. “I … I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.”

Without waiting for either of the men to say anything, Katara turned around and walked away. Once she was out of their sight, she all but ran into the ladies’ room, stumbled over to a toilet, and retched. The wine she had earlier in the evening made its way out, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Somehow, she made her way to the sink after flushing the toilet. She splashed her face multiple times, not caring that her make-up and mascara ran. Finally, she shut the tap and grabbed on to the sink to stay upright.

“Okay, out with it,” Toph’s voice startled her for the second time in the evening. “And don’t give me the ‘childhood friends’ bullshit. What’s happening?”

“I ate something bad, I guess,” Katara croaked, wiping beads of water and sweat from her forehead.

“Bullshit. After you saw Zuko, your voice cracked, and you became completely erratic. I could sense tears in your words. And he seemed shaken too. Something is going on. What?”

In the shock of seeing Zuko after six years, Katara had forgotten just how perceptive Toph was. She could almost always tell when someone was lying. But she was not ready to divulge the truth either. Katara took a deep breath and said, “Toph, I’m sorry, I can’t talk about it right now. I’ll tell you later, okay? Please don’t mind, but I have to go now? Could you tell Jet I was just… not feeling well?”

Toph chewed her bottom lip for a moment and said, “Okay. You do seem very shaken. I’ll arrange for a car. You go,” She fished out her phone and made a quick call. “My car will be waiting for you downstairs.”

Katara gave her friend a hug. “Thanks a ton. I owe you one.”

“Nonsense. You just take care. Don’t stress out, okay?”

On the car-ride back home, Jet called her a few times, and she ignored them all. She was not up to entertaining his clinginess, not when her past was coming to suffocate her. When she dragged herself into her house, she realized, with some amount of relief that Suki was not home. Katara pulled off her shoes, changed into PJs, and threw herself on the bed. She was still reeling from seeing the golden-eyed man again and found herself struggling to breathe. Her phone beeped. She hoped that it was Zuko’s text, for she would not put it past him to ask Toph for her number and she knew Toph would give it, that girl was intuitive beyond belief. She opened her phone, only to find a series of texts from Jet.

Katara, where are you?

Toph said you’re sick. Are you okay?

Why didn’t you tell me? I would have taken you home.

Leaving me like that at the party was not cool.

Katara was about to dump the phone to the side, when it beeped again, showing a new number. Her fingers shook as she opened the text.

Hope you reached home safely. We need to talk. Meet me for coffee tomorrow? – Zuko.

[camillemontespan]

she wolves [part seven: raspberry]

Part Six if you want to catch up

Warnings: Character death. 

@jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @moonlightgem7 @burnsoslow @ibldw-main @emichelle @katedrakeohd @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @mskaneko @nazariortega @dcbbw @gardeningourmet @iplaydrake @notoriouscs @star-spangled-eyes @rainbowsinthestorm @stopforamoment @pedudley @drakesensworld @pug-bitch  @msjr0119

***********************************************

Kiara

Cordonia is in even more of a limbo now after the passing of Leo. Only Olivia and I know the truth, we know he was murdered in his bed by Madeleine but only Olivia knows how she wants to proceed.

I'm terrified.

You don't cross Olivia Nevrakis unless you have a death wish.

The funeral is today, a few days following the announcement of his passing. As like his younger brother, Leo is given a state funeral and the public come out in droves to pay their respects. He was well loved. Despite the fact he abdicated and left the country to his dictator brother, everyone in Cordonia had hoped the abdicated king would come home and save them.

That was all anyone wanted.

But instead, he came home and now no longer breathes.

He is displayed in an open casket and is drowned in gold military regalia, despite the fact he never served.

Madeleine reaches his coffin and with a tear sliding down her cheek, she presses her hand to his face and audibly whispers, 'I love you.'

Someone give the girl an Oscar.

I watch Drake and Camille approach him next. Drake's features are drawn and I know what he's thinking. Another Rhys brother dead.

Olivia is next. Her posture is ramrod straight and her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail that hangs down her back. She wears a black net over her face. She looks like a regal widower, except she and Leo were never married.

She presses a kiss on Leo's cold lips and everyone in the room gasps. This is her announcement that she loved him. This is Olivia claiming him as hers.

Madeleine

I stare at Olivia, trying to keep my face calm but I know it's not working. She has kissed Leo in front of everyone. Nobody knew about them. Nobody knew about our uneasy arrangement.

She strides down the marble steps and her eyes narrow at me as she passes. She doesn't need words to tell me that she did that deliberately.

I sense people watching me so I flash them a smile and follow the procession out of the room. Cold and unflinching, that is what I have to be.

Olivia

I go back to my room at the palace. I tear my black net away from my face and toss it on the bed. I sit down at my dressing table and look at my reflection in the mirror. I look paler than usual and my eyes even have eyebags from sleepless nights. It's hard to get to sleep when I believe that I can see Leo lying beside me, the ghost of him always around.

I have a plan.

All I need to do is speak to Kiara.

Kiara

My mobile rings. I don't recognise the number so I reject it, going back to watching the news channel about Leo's funeral.

'Olivia kissed him!' one of the hosts says. 'Did you know something was going on with them?'

'I had no idea!' Natalia, the main newsreader, says. 'I do wonder what Madeleine thinks of all this. It was quite a statement..'

My phone rings again. Sighing, I pick up. 'Hello?'

'Fucking hell, Kiara, you're annoying to get hold of.'

It's Olivia.

'Oh! Sorry Olivia, I don't have your number so -'

'Well, know it now!' she says bluntly. 'I need to talk to you.'

I mute the TV and focus on the phone call. I hope its nothing bad.

'I need you to throw a dinner party for the other ladies,' she says. 'Camille, Penelope, Hana and Madeleine. Me too, of course.'

I'm wary. I have never trusted Olivia and I don't plan to start now. She senses my discomfort as she continues to speak. 'Just a dinner party.'

I don't believe her. 'Why?' I challenge. 'Why invite Madeleine of all people? I know you want her blood so why invite her to a dinner party?'

I know she's rolling her eyes. 'Enough with the questions, Kiara -'

But I've had it. I'm tired of being seen as too quiet, too boring, too weak. I need to stand up for myself.

'No, Liv,' I tell her, my voice harsh. 'If you want me to host a dinner party, then you need to tell me why. I need to know what you have up your sleeve.'

'What makes you think I have something up my sleeve?' she asks, her voice like silk.

'Because I know you,' I tell her, my voice steady. 'I know what you're like. You enjoy manipulation and power plays. There's always an agenda with you.'

'Wow, don't beat around the bush,' she drawls. I stay quiet, wanting my silence to speak volumes.

She sighs. 'Kiara, I can't tell you what I have planned. To involve you even more would make you an accomplice.'

My blood runs cold. 'Accomplice?'

'Trust me, you don't want to know. I just need a venue and an innocent excuse to get Madeleine in the room without prompting suspicion.'

I bristle at this new detail. Olivia has given away more than she meant to.

'So this is about Madeleine.'

She is silent.

'Olivia, I'm not getting involved with you and Madeleine -'

'You won't be,' she says. 'All you have to do is let us into your home for one evening and let me do the rest. Nobody will suspect you. Besides, the less you know, the better because then you can rightly say you had no idea of what I'd been planning.'

'Olivia -'

'We can be allies,' she says urgently. She reeks of desperation. 'Me and you. If I don't win the crown then I can support you. Or, if I do win the crown, I will ensure that you are given a role within my council. You can travel around the world, represent Cordonia!'

'Olivia, you're pathetic,' I spit, disgusted with her.

She goes silent. I hear her breath coming out harsh, almost like she's choking.

'I need her gone,' she whispers, her voice cracking. 'I can't have that monster on the throne. She killed Leo. I can imagine she also killed Liam as his room also smelled of vanilla when he was found.'

I can't help but gasp. 'How did you know that?'

'Leo told me,' she mutters. 'The smell of vanilla haunted him afterwards.'

We're both quiet. She is waiting for my answer. I think about Cordonia under Madeleine's rule. She would become power mad. She would be a cold queen, unfeeling.

Olivia may be a terrifying person but I know she is loyal to Cordonia and she does have some sort of emotion. I don't want her to be Queen, clearly, but anything is better than Madeleine. Especially now.

'In interviews, when asked which of your competitors you respect most, you say my name,' I dictate.

'Done,' she says.

I think to myself. 'You stop insulting me and treating me like I'm the shit on your shoe.'

'Done,' she says.

I sigh. 'I'll invite them this weekend.'

'Good,' she says. 'Oh, Kiara?'

'Yes?'

'Don't you fucking dare make me beg again.'

Camille

Drake hasn’t stopped smiling since we found out I’m pregnant. He is practically giddy. We’re going to the hospital today for a dating scan and he helps me into the car even though I don’t need assistance; he’s so eager to be supportive. 

Usually our driver will take us  places but today, Drake insisted on driving us himself. 

‘This is the beginning of the Walker family,’ he told me. ‘I want to be like a normal family, just us and our kid. I want to drive us everywhere, do normal family things, just be Drake and Camille.’

I understand completely. We don’t want any frills or fuss about this; we want to act like a normal couple on our way to a hospital appointment. 

He plays the radio station I like in the car, which is Absolute 90s. He hates 90s music but he’s put it on for me specially because he wants me to be happy. I’m so happy already, nothing can taint this joy I feel inside, but he just keeps trying. He even goes the extra mile and sings along to The Backstreet Boys. ‘Tell me whyyyyy!’ 

I burst out laughing and he grins at me, not caring how cheesy he is being. ‘What? I’m so fucking excited, Camille!’ 

I reach over and hold his hand. He squeezes it gently and I can see the kind of father he will be. Protective, loving, utter goofball.  My marshmallow. 

                    **************************************************************

‘You’re eight weeks along,’ Dr Valentina confirms. ‘So far, the baby is as big as a raspberry.’

Drake presses a kiss on my forehead and whispers, ‘Our little raspberry.’ 

He is so involved. He’s asking the doctor so many questions: ‘What can she eat? What does she have to avoid? Will morning sickness fade? What can I do to help?’

Dr Valentina answers every question and just when she is about to go onto something else, Drake comes up with another question. He is already so in love with our little family and I feel my heart swell as I watch him. 

‘I’ll give you two a moment,’ the doctor tells us and she leaves the room. Drake turns to me and his eyes are crinkled up in the corners because he’s smiling so much. 

I lean over to kiss him softly. When we part, he is still smiling. 

‘I love you,’ I murmur. He reaches out to twirl a lock of my hair around his finger and his eyes roam my face, taking me in. Drake always makes me feel like he’s memorising every detail of me; like I’m not real and will fade away before he can commit my features to memory. 

‘Husband and father joint first, Duke second,’ he says simply. I frown. ‘What do you mean?’

‘My priorities. You and Raspberry are my only priority. Family comes first before everything else.’ He places his hand on my stomach. ‘I’m never going to forget that. You both are everything to me.’ 

I blink back happy tears and place my hand on top of his. ‘So are you. Wife and mother joint first, Duchess second.’ 

We don’t mention the possibility of me becoming Queen. This is not the moment for that. This is our little pocket of normality which is us finding out how far along I am and how tiny our baby is. Nothing else is allowed to disrupt this peace. I just want us to continue being this happy and hopeful for our future together. 

He kisses me hard, a deep, urgent kiss that conveys his absolute devotion. 

‘Family first,’ he whispers. 

         ******************************************************************************

Kiara

That weekend, the other ladies arrive at my home for an elegant dinner. I’ve chosen the finest wines and delicious cheeses for us to enjoy and the dining room is decorated with tall pillar candles. I am trying my best to conceal my nerves over what Olivia has planned. I don’t want to know what she’s doing but I wish I had some sort of idea so I could prepare. 

I assume she’s asked me to host because Madeleine can’t say no. It would be rude and arrogant for her to reject my invitation; if Olivia had invited her, Madeleine would have given her the cold shoulder. 

The other ladies are invited as a cover. Make this look like a dinner party but really, it’s Olivia’s revenge. 

Olivia arrives first. She is wearing her usual red, a long silk red dress with a split up the thigh. Around her thigh is a holster with a dagger encased inside it; purely for show or is she intending to use it?

Around her arm is a ruby cuff that resembles a snake. It twists around her arm and glints in the candle light. 

Camille arrives next. She is wearing an emerald green silk dress, rose gold heels and her hair is pulled up in her signature chignon. She always looks chic and sophisticated, which is a true feat for an American. 

She and Olivia exchange awkward small talk; Camille rejects a glass of wine, instead asking for sparkling water. Our eyes meet and I give her a smile as a sort of silent congratulations.

Soon, everyone is here. Penelope arrived later than everyone which is a surprise as she is usually so prompt but I see her hair is a little dishevelled and she has a pink flush to her cheeks. I look out of the front door and see her driver, Thomas, getting back into the vehicle. I wink at Penelope and she puts her finger to her lips. ‘Shh..’ she whispers, a sneaky smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Madeleine is wearing black. She never wears black but she is acting the part of grieving ex-fiancee so she has to stick to her role. Olivia’s eyes scan her black dress and she gives a harsh laugh, shaking her head in disgust. 

We all sit down at the long table and toast our glasses together. 

‘Any reason why you’re not drinking wine, Camille?’ Madeleine asks. 

Camille keeps her face straight. ‘I just don’t feel like drinking, that’s all.’ 

‘But Kiara always has the best wine,’ Madeleine says, her eyes flashing. ‘It’s rude to reject your host’s efforts.’

Camille’s eyes widen and she looks at me, ready to apologise, but I shake my head. ‘Don’t worry, Camille,’ I say. ‘I’m not offended at all.’ 

She gives me a grateful smile and sips her water. 

‘I think you’re lying,’ Madeleine continues. ‘It’s just us girls. Let’s be honest!’

She is trying to get a rise out of Camille but she forgets that Camille is usually level headed and has been trained by the best to always smile while gritting your teeth. 

‘Well, if you want to start talking about honesty, Madeleine..’ Olivia says, her voice laced with venom. 

Madeleine blinks. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

She blinks again, trying to look like Bambi. Olivia looks like she wants to launch herself across the table at her rival. Instead, she stands up and struts out of the room, her head held high.

Olivia

I pick up my handbag and go into the kitchen. Spotting a servant, I beckon them over.

'Serve this to Madeleine,' I instruct, taking the bottle I've brought with me out of my bag. 'She'll love this wine.'

The servant looks too terrified of me to ask what I'm doing in the kitchen or why I'm handing them this suspicious bottle. This is when being feared becomes a positive thing. People do what you want, no questions asked.

The servant takes the bottle and I turn on my heel back into the hallway. I'm about to re-enter the dining room when a familiar voice behind me stops me in my tracks.

'Hey, trouble.'

I turn slowly to see Leo.

I collapse against the wall. My heart is pounding and my skin breaks out in a sweat. I'm seeing things, I'm definitely seeing things. He is leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed with his lazy smile on his face. He's wearing a white shirt, the top three buttons open, and black trousers. It's what he was wearing when Kiara found him.

I close my eyes, willing him to disappear, and open them again. He's gone.

I turn back towards the dining room but the cold air around me has me frozen and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I hear Leo whisper in my ear, 'Be careful, my love.'

                         ********************************************

Penelope

I'm day dreaming again. I can't help it. Madeleine started insulting Hana and I zoned out, my automatic reaction when it comes to Madeleine and her bitchy comments.

I think about Thomas. He is waiting outside for me in the car, doing his job as my parents ask. But what they don't know is that I was in the back seat with him before I knocked on Kiara's door. I straddled his lap and fucked him hard.

'Now both Rhys brothers are dead, surely there will be an investigation?' Hana asks, breaking into my thoughts.

Madeleine scoffs. 'Investigation into what?'

'Well, they were both found in their beds,' Hana says, her voice sharp. 'Bit suspicious, isn't it?'

'I think Leo would want us to move forward,' Madeleine tells her. 'He wouldn't want us to dwell on the past.'

Olivia comes back into the room and let's out a cold laugh. 'Is that why you're wearing black, Maddie?'

Madeleine's lip curls in contempt. 'Don't call me that.'

Olivia sits down and stares at Madeleine. 'I can call you what I want. Maddie. Mads. Bitch. Desperate. Murderer.'

We all start at this last word.

I see Kiara's eyes widen and she scrambles trying to move the conversation on -'More wine!- but we are all fixated on Olivia's accusation.

Madeleine looks like a fish out of water. 'Don't call me that.'

Olivia raises an eyebrow. 'What? Which word? Desperate? Murderer?'

'WINE!' Kiara calls out. The servants come rushing in with a tray of glasses filled with wine and set them out in front of us. Camille rejects hers and picks up her glass of water.

Kiara

I need this to calm down but I know that Olivia and Madeleine are too far gone. I didn't expect Olivia to call out Madeleine with such an accusation. I curse myself. Usually, I'm good at reading people and situations. I should have expected this to blow up. Why else did Olivia want to invite her?

Olivia picks up her glass to do a toast. Everyone follows suit, too scared to say anything.

'To Leo,' Olivia says. 'May he rest in peace.'

We all say, 'To Leo,' except Madeleine who tosses her wine down her throat.

Olivia stares at Madeleine with a look of pure hatred and something else etched on her face before speaking.

'May he rest knowing he hasn't died in vain.'

Hana

Madeleine's face turns purple. Literally purple.

'Um, guys..' I say, pointing at her. 'Madeleine.'

Madeleine begins to choke and she brings her hand around her neck, spluttering and coughing. 'Help..' she croaks.

'Nobody can help you now,' Olivia tells her, sipping more of her wine.

I turn to her. 'Olivia, what have you done?'

She shrugs. 'What I should have done ages ago.'

I look at Kiara who has gone white. I see everyone around this table has gone white.

'We have to do something!' I scream. I forget that I hate Madeleine and she makes me feel like shit. Her life is at stake, she is choking.

I get up to help. Camille is on her feet also, shaking, and we are all shouting at once, panicking while Madeleine chokes some more.

She falls to the floor.

'Oh god, oh god!' Camille shouts, rushing over to get on her knees. 'Do I roll her over?! She'll choke on her back -'

'She's choking anyway,' Olivia drawls. 'She'll be dead in a minute.'

Madeleine's fingernails claw at the floor and a horrible sound emits from her throat. Tears are pouring down my face as I get down beside Camille, who has rolled Madeleine onto her side.

Kiara is screaming at Olivia.

'This was your plan?! You were going to poison her?!'

'Yes, this was my plan,' Olivia replies. 'Deal with it.'

Kiara

I'm furious. I knew Olivia was planning something but not this. I didn't expect poison. I didn't expect to see Madeleine fighting for her life.

'I thought you would only make her tell the truth, not poison her!' I scream, unable to calm down. 'You're just as bad as she is!'

'How do you know she murdered Leo?' Penelope bursts out. She's holding onto the edge of the table, tears falling down her cheeks. 'What proof do you have?'

Olivia whips around to speak but is interrupted by Hana.

'She's dead.'

We all look down at Madeleine who is lying still. Foam has frothed at her mouth and her eyes are open and like glass.

Camille has pressed her hands against her mouth, stifling sobs. 'Oh no.. Oh no..' she whispers.

Her hands then go down to her stomach and she turns on Olivia.

'I'm pregnant!' she screams. 'What if that drink had been given to me?!'

'You've been rejecting wine all evening, it's fine,' Olivia says, rolling her eyes. 'You wouldn't have been killed accidentally.'

Camille's breath comes out shallow. She looks like she's going to pass out.

Hana's eyes narrow at Olivia. 'If you're right and she killed Leo, you're just as bad as she is.'

Olivia is on her feet now. 'I know she did because she was the last person he saw the night before he died! The room smelled of vanilla which is HER scent! You know what other room smelled of vanilla? LIAM'S! She killed both of them in cold blood! She needed to be stopped!'

'You didn't have to kill her!' Penelope shrieks, joining in. 'You could have reported her to the police, got her investigated! But no, instead you had to be typical Olivia and resort to violence!'

'Oh, do shut up Penelope,' Olivia droans. 'It's done.'

'Why did you involve us?' Hana asks. 'We can just go to the police and tell them what you have done.'

We all look at Olivia who's face is hard to read. But I know that she doesn't feel remorse.

'If you go to the police,' she says, 'you'll have a similar fate to that murderer at our feet.'

'You're disgusting,' Camille chokes out. 'You're not even human.'

Olivia's eyes flash.

'I did what I had to do. Accept it.'

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Falling for the Holidays Ch. 24

Title: Falling for the Holidays

Pairing: Dean x Reader AU

Word Count: 3525

Summary: With October ending and the holidays underway, that only meant one thing for Dean Winchester. It meant returning to his childhood home and spending time with his family. It meant listening to his parents, especially his mom, ramble on and on about when he was going to find himself a nice girl, bring her home for the holidays, and then eventually get married and have children.  However, Dean wasn’t ready for that sort of commitment, so in order to get his family off his back, he comes up with an elaborate scheme! But like the saying goes, “sometimes lies become truths.”

Warnings: Angst, Angst, and more Angst.

A/N: OMG! You guys have no idea how many times I wanted to cut off this chapter just to leave you guys on a cliffhanger, but I’ve found the right spot to leave it at. LOL. I hope you guys like it! I was in the zone for the most part while writing this, but then I had to go to work. I’m excited for y’all to read it!! However, I will warn you that I don’t know anything with how the police deals with things, so if I am way off, I apologize in advance. Also, thank you to everyone leaving feedback and reblogging this fic. You guys are amazing and I appreciate all that you do! This fic is starting to reach more people and I’m getting nothing but positive feedback and it does things to me. It really does motivate me to write and it somehow gets my mind juices flowing! Thank you again for the love and support. You guys are AMAZING! Happy Reading!

Dean raced down to the diner, haphazardly pulling into the parking lot, taking two parking spaces. He stalked towards his mother’s vehicle, noticing the key still in the keyhole. As quick as it was to assume, there was only one thing he could think of…

This was foul play.

“Dean!” Sam jumped out of his rental, rushing over to his brother’s side. Dean didn’t even notice him pull in. “Find anything?”

“Yeah, Mom’s car is still here, which means Y/N should be here too. Mom said that Jody told her that Y/N left the diner, but if she did, then why is the car still her? Something happened to her, Sammy. I can feel it in my gut!”

Sam sighed, running both of his hands through his hair. He had no reasonable explanation. All his logical mind could come up with was that something bad must have happened. No one would leave their key to the car jammed in the keyhole. He took a step back, stumbling over a large rock and falling on his ass. He hissed in pain, glaring at the rock as if it was really its fault. “Stupid ro—” Sam didn’t finish. The words lost as he noticed something…

“Hey, you okay?” Dean asked, offering his brother a hand.

“No, Dean. I mean, yeah, I’m fine, but look.” Sam picked up the rock as he stood, not bothering to dust himself off. “Is that…”

“Blood?” Both brothers said in unison.

“You don’t think…” Sam initiated a thought.

“Fuck. That can’t be hers, can it?” Dean asked.

“I—I don’t know.” Sam was scared. He didn’t want to show it, not wanting to look like a wuss in front of his big brother, but he wanted to puke.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean shouted, catching the attention of people walking by. “I need to talk to Jody,” Dean stated, ripping the key out of the keyhole and shoving it in his pocket, before making a beeline into the food joint.

“Sam, Dean,” Jody smiled brightly as the two entered, but her smile vanished when she noticed the gravity in Dean’s face and the fear in Sam’s. “Hey guys, everything okay?” She asked, stepping back a bit and hitting the empty table behind her as the boys stopped in front of her.

“No,” Dean barked, his voice louder than expected.

“Uh, what Dean means to say is… uh, we were wondering if you seen Y/N come in?” Sam spoke for his brother.

“Okay, first of all, personal space,” she mentioned, hinting to just how close Dean was standing. The green-eyed man cleared his throat and situated a respectable amount of space between them. Jody eyed Dean, wondering if she should be concerned about him or not before answering his question… or rather, Sam’s question. “Yeah, she was here, but she left quite some time ago,” Jody turned to Sam. “Is she not at home? Your mom said she walked in right before we hung up earlier.”

Dean bypassed her question, asking another one of his own. “Was there anyone else here with her?”

Jody’s brows furrowed, confusion forming on her expression. “No, she was alone.”

“No one talked to her or interacted with her in any way?” Dean inquired.

“Other than me, no. None that I know of…” she frowned, observing and trying to read the distressed man in front of her.

“Thanks Jody,” Sam offered, smiling weakly. “C’mon Dean—”

“Actually…” Jody blurted. “Lisa and some guy she used to come here often with were here. Y/N seemed like she knew them.”

“Lisa?” Dean repeated.

“Yeah. Lisa and some British guy. I never really like him,” Jody confessed.

“Ketch…” Dean snarled, his facial features deepening into something one would call, pure hatred. “Thanks for the help Jody, but we have to go,” Dean nodded, turning and heading out the door.

“Thanks Jody. See ya!” Sam called over his shoulder as he chased after his brother. “Dean, wait!”

Sam hopped into the passenger side of Dean’s truck, deciding to leave the rental there. He clutched onto the car handle by his head while his body tensed with fear. Dean was driving fifty in a twenty miles per hour zone. “Where are we going?” Sam asked, gulping.

“To find Lisa…”

Back at the house, Jess and Mary were sitting in the kitchen, each with a cup of tea in front of them, hoping the warm liquid would put them a little at ease. John on the other hand had been waiting outside for Rufus, the town’s Sheriff and retired detective. If there was anyone that could help, it was him for damn sure!

The sound of tires grinding on the driveway signaled his arrival. There were voices coming from outside before the door swung open. Mary sat straight in hopes that Y/N would be walking through the door with Rufus.

“Mary, Rufus is here,” John announced, walking into the kitchen with the Sheriff in tow.

“Rufus, thank you for coming over,” Mary greeted.

“Hi, Sheriff Turner,” Jess waved.

“Now, now. Rufus would do just fine,” he replied to the young blond matched with an assuring smile. “How about we all have a sit down and discuss what exactly happened?”

“Sounds good,” John answered.

Mary smiled, getting up from her seat to fetch Rufus a cup of coffee. As she set it in front of him, he thanked her and took a sip, appreciating the feel of the hot drink soothing down his throat. “That’s some good stuff,” he complimented before getting down to business. “So… according to John, a miss Y/N Y/L/N may be missing?”

“Correct,” Mary answered.

“Alright. John has already sent me a photo, and I’ll admit… Dean’s done good. She’s quite the beauty,” he smiled, trying to alleviate some of the tension in the room.

“Thank you,” Mary offered a small grin.

“Now tell me what happened. Start from the very beginning of the day,” Rufus instructed.

“Yeah, sure,” Mary agreed. “Well, we were all at home and John and I gave Dean some… some news…”

“What kind of news?” Rufus asked, jotting things down in his small black book.

“A paternity test.”

Rufus froze, his once scribbling pen coming to a halt. He glanced up at Mary before averting his eyes to the other two people in the room. “Alright, go on about this paternity test.”

“Okay… uh, you know Lisa Braeden…”

“Oh yeah. She’s the one with the kid— oh… right. Continue.”

“Well, she’s been insistent that Ben is my son’s child. So I… well, I got some DNA and had it tested,” she confessed hesitantly.

“And how did you manage do that? I’d assume if Lisa was trying to convince Dean that he is the father, she wouldn’t allow you to get any form of DNA from the kid if she was lying.”

Jess was enthralled with the drama taking place in front of her. She was listening to a story that could be watch on the LMN channel, except this was real, and the main characters were people she actually knew. “Wow… this has gotten real interesting…” she muttered, unknowingly speaking her thoughts out loud. When everyone looked at her, she flinched, finally realizing what she’s done. “S-sorry.”

Mary inhaled deeply, a little ashamed at what she was about to admit. “The day that Y/N ran away back to Dallas and Dean went after her. Lisa stopped by worried and asked about Dean. That time, she had Ben with her and I saw this as my opportunity. I offered Ben some milk and cookies and well… when they left, I saved the cup and brought it to the hospital in hopes it was enough to get a bit of his DNA. And getting Dean’s DNA… that was easy. I just used his toothbrush.”

“I see…” Rufus said as he wrote more down in his notebook. “Well that answers that. What else happened today? What happened when you told Dean about the results?”

“Obviously, Dean was confused at first and then he was furious, but Y/N was there to keep him under control. We left them to themselves, letting Y/N take over, and when Dean was relaxed, we went to eat at Singer’s for lunch. It was great up until we were leaving.”

“What happened when you were leaving?” Rufus prompt.

“Lisa showed up,” Jess jumped in, rolling her eyes. “She got Dean fired up pretty quick.”

“Did anything happen? Any altercations I need to know about?”

“Y/N slapped Lisa in the face in the parking lot. That was pretty great,” Jess chuckled, missing the way Mary and John looked at her. Mary was a little apprehensive, but John had a small smirk on his face. He was damn proud of that moment too.

“And why would Y/N do that?” Rufus questioned, taking his eyes away from his book.

“Because Lisa wouldn’t tell the truth,” John answered. “Dean kept asking for the truth and when Lisa continued to lie, Y/N lost her shit.”

“John,” Mary smacked her husband’s chest, disapproving of his usage of the English language.

Rufus laughed lightly at the couple. “It’s alright Mary. I’ve heard worse. Hell, I tend to use a bit of profanity when I do the job. But I usually save it for those rotten teenagers and all the drunk assholes I have to deal with. Anyway, please, continue.”

“That’s pretty much it. We came home from lunch, Dean and Y/N were up in their room, Sam and Jess were in theirs, I took a nap, and I believe Mary was gonna do some baking,” John shrugged.

“But then Y/N came down saying she forgot her bag at the diner, so I let her take my car,” Mary added, “and well, she hasn’t been back since. I called Jody but she said that Y/N had already left. I didn’t want to worry her so I told her Y/N just walked in and that everything was fine before hanging up.”

“Well, that’s a good place to start. The diner,” Rufus nodded, closing his book.

“Wait—” Jess jumped in, all eyes falling on her. “There was also someone else there.”

“Who?” Rufus asked.

“Um, a friend of Y/N. I think his name was… Kent? Kutcher? I can’t remember, it started with a K,” Jess scrunched her brows trying to think of his name.

“Oh. Ketch!” Mary piped.

“Yes! That’s it, Ketch!” Jess cheered, glad to know that she wouldn’t have that nagging itch in the back of her mind as she tried to recall the damn name. “I think I heard Dean say something about how he was a stalker or something. But that Ketch guy said was spending Christmas with his family who lives in town, which is why he’s here.”

“Ketch, huh?” Rufus jotted the name in his book. “Okay. I’m going to make a quick call, and then I’m going to head over to the diner, ask the staff a few questions and I’ll give you a call if I find anything.”

“Thank you for your time Rufus. I appreciate it. I know you’re a busy man,” John smiled, shaking the Sheriff’s hand.

“If by busy you mean signing papers and eating doughnuts all day, then yeah. I’m one busy man,” he joked, everyone in the room laughing. “You folks have a good afternoon. Give me a call if you get any news from Y/N or anything relating to her.”

With one final wave, and once the door was closed, Rufus rushed over to his truck with the Police Department Logo on it, along with the words, Sheriff. There was something about that name. Ketch… he’s sure he’s heard that name before. It had been a long time ago, but he was positive he knew it. He pulled out his phone calling the office.

“Howdy Sheriff!” His deputy greeted.

“Andy, I need you send out an MP report for a Y/N Y/L/N. I’m sending you the picture right now. Also, I want you to check the name Ketch for me in the database. Anything that pops up, let me know, no matter how old. You got that?”

“Got it Sheriff.”

“Once you find something, you call me. This is your priority, nothing else you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, get to work. I’ll be in later.”

While Dean was speeding down the streets, he took his phone out, pressing your number, which was the first one on his favorites list. “Dean, should you really be on the phone right now?” Sam asked, fearing for his life, but Dean didn’t acknowledge him. He was too busy lost in his own raging thoughts and trying to get a hold of you.

Your phone lit up and Lisa’s eyes went wide when she saw Dean’s name on the screen. “D-Dean’s calling!” She panicked. “And Y/N is still asleep!”

Ketch glared at her. “Just leave it. But we need to get out of here. I’m sure he’ll be heading this way. No doubt that the waitress gave him a bit of information. Bela, how far do you live from here?” He asked.

“About fifteen minutes away.”

“Good, let’s go,” he instructed, taking you in his arms.

“What about Ben?” Lisa asked.

Ketch groaned, completely forgetting about him. “That kid is a nuisance,” he commented, conspicuously aggravated.

“Hey, he’s still your kid too, whether you like it or not,” Lisa barked, her Mama Bear instincts kicking in. “Ben is a good kid. No, he’s a great kid. And if anything, he’s too good for you. You don’t deserve to have a son like Ben. You don’t deserve kids at all!”

“I don’t care” Ketch let out with a frustrated breath.

“I wish I never met you,” Lisa gritted her teeth.

“Again… I don’t care.”

“Dean is a better man than you’ll ever be. He may be pissed at me right now, and he may hate me forever, but he will always be the man I wished was Ben’s real father—” Lisa strode up to Ketch, glaring him down. “And Y/N… I can’t believe you fell for her. After today, she will never give you a second look,” she spat, getting into his face as mush as she could with you still in Ketch’s arms.

“Like I said…” he put you back down on the couch, “… I don’t care. I’ve never cared about you or Ben. The only reason I hadn’t killed either of you yet is because the authorities are looking for me,” Ketch revealed, towering over Lisa as he pressed his chest to hers.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, stepping backwards, bumping into Bela as she went.

“You should really be careful when it comes to people. You can never really judge a book by its cover,” he smirked, stalking over to the two women.

“Stay back or else!” Bela shouted.

“Or else what? What could you possibly do to me? I’ve got—” suddenly, there was a click and Ketch froze.

“I said, stay back!” Bela snapped, drawing a gun and pulling back the safety lock.

Ketch eyed the weapon, confusion washing over his face. “Is that—how—” he was at a lost for words. He had no idea how they could have managed to get his gun, until he remembered his little square off with Lisa. “Clever aren’t we?” Ketch scoffed. “Who knew you had it in you,” he scoffed, glaring at Lisa.

“Don’t underestimate us,” Lisa sent him dirty looks.

“Do you even know how to use it? Have you ever even held one those before?” He teased.

“Aim and shoot, that’s pretty much it, right? Besides, I may have grown up pampered, but my father had his hobbies and I happened to pick up a few skills because of it,” Bela grinned. “Now, tell us who you really are?”

Dean cursed when he reached your voicemail time and time again. “Son of a bitch!” He cussed, banging his hands on the steering wheel.

“Dean, calm down. Don’t worry. Y/N is going to be fine. What’s the worse that can happen? Lisa is harmless,” Sam tried to coax his brother.

“It’s not Lisa I’m worried about, it’s Ketch. I don’t know anything about the guy. He could be some sick psychopath for all I know! Not to mention, he’s got a thing for Y/N!”

Rufus reached Singer’s Diner, waving to some of the community members as he walked in. He took his usual seat at the bar and Jody walked up. “Hey there Sheriff, the usual?” She smiled, her hospitality and customer service always at top notch.

“Ah, no, not today. I’m actually on the job,” he returned her kind gesture. “I was hopping I could talk to few of the staff members, starting with you.”

Worry flooded back onto Jody’s face. “Has this anything to do with Dean’s girlfriend, Y/N?”

“How’d you know?”

“Dean and Sam came in here guns blazing asking if Y/N was in here. I told them that she left. I also told them that Lisa and some other fella was in here and that they seemed to be acquainted.”

“Okay. Did you actually see Y/N leave?”

“Yeah, I watched her walk out the door.”

“But did you see her get in her car and leave?” Rufus interrogated.

“No. I just assumed she got in and left. When I was talking to Mary on the phone, she said Y/N had just walked in.”

Before Rufus could ask another question, his phone started ringing. “Sorry, I have to get this,” Rufus excused himself, seeing his deputy’s name lighting up the screen. “What is it Deputy?”

“Ah, Sheriff, I found some files on the name you gave me. Seems like a real bag guy.”

“Great, I’m just gonna finish up and head back to the station. Leave the files on my desk.”

“Sure thing.”

“Andy, hey!”

“Yeah, Sheriff?”

“Is there a picture of this guy?” He asked.

“There is, but it’s only a sketch from a witness. Uh, Pastor Jim. Want me to send it to you?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

“Alright Sheriff, I’ll do that right away.”

“Good job Deputy.”

When Rufus hung up, Jody still standing in her spot. “Everything okay?” she wondered out loud.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine. I actually have a picture I want to show you, it’s just a sketch, but it should do the trick. I just want you to validate that this man was the one with Lisa. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, of course. If it means I can help, then yeah.”

Rufus’s phone dinged just in time. He pulled up the message with the sketch and showed it to Jody. “Is this the man you saw with Lisa Braeden?”

Jody scanned the photo and instantly recognized him. “Yes. He’s changed a little. Older looking, fuller face, wider chest, but if I had to make a connection, then yeah. That’s him.”

That was the only confirmation he needed. “Thank you for your time, Jody. I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early for my usual,” he gave her a friendly smile before heading off.

As he stepped out heading over to his truck, he noticed a familiar car parked near the end of the parking lot. He hadn’t seen it earlier due to the fact that there was another car blocking it at the time, but he knew that was Mary’s car. His eyes narrowed, before making his way over. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except for the fact that the girl who was supposed to be driving it wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Rufus let out a frustrated sigh. He had to get back to the office and read up on the files that were waiting for him. As he pivoted to head to his truck, he tripped on the same large rock Sam did earlier. “Dammit,” Rufus hissed. “What the hell is a giant rock doing here?!” He grumbled, kicking it, but as he did, he noticed the stain covering it. “God dammit!” He exclaimed, jumping to his feet and returning to his truck.

Going over a little passed the speed limit, he made to the police station in record timing. He barged into the station, ignoring everyone that tried to greet him. Upon entering his office, he saw the thick file sitting on his desk with the name Arthur Ketch.

He opened the file and the first thing he sees is the witness account sketch, then multiple news articles, followed by stolen artifacts, murder reports, and a claims from previous investigations from different states and countries.

He definitely heard of Arthur Ketch before. Arthur ketch was a young mastermind, talented in what he did. He sold things on the black market. Stealing ancient artifacts, one of a kind jewelry, sculptures, and all sorts of other things. He did what ever it took to obtain them. Manipulation, murder, bribery, you name it, he’s most likely done it. One thing was for sure… that man was dangerous.

Gathering everything he’s gained under his arm, Rufus called John Winchester.

“Hello?” John answered.

“John, we need to find Y/N and your boys ASAP.”

Liked it? Please share and reblog it! Leave some feedback! I would greatly appreciate it! :)

Say Something Nice Here!

[synnefo-nefeli]

The Fun Author Ask Thing, could you share a WIP of Heard Your Heart Beating with us?

Alrighty kiddos, buckle up for the setup for the most self indulgent plot-point I am ever going to write. Please keep in mind, this is still very, very, very rough

___

//Come fix your prosecutor// read Athena’s text. Apollo groaned wondering what Klavier could have done in the hour Klavier had spent at the WAA.

He adjusted his tie in the mirror of his locker, checked to make sure that he no longer looked sweaty from his ride over from court, and shoved his cycling outfit into his locker along with his helmet.

He could hear laughing on the other side of the office’s front door so that was a good sign, he hoped, as he swiped his keycard into the lock.

“Herr Forehead has finally arrived from his battle with the courts!” Klavier beamed at him with his the typical smile that Apollo was now coming to call “on-stage-mode”. Klavier was sitting on the sofa next to Athena, coffee cups and tea biscuits between them on the table. He could hear Mr. Wright bustling in the office kitchenette.

“I am back. I survived Blackquill-“

“Oh is that why you biked over here? Simon didn’t offer to drive you?” Athena laughed, “how mean. He needs to learn to leave it in the courtroom.”

Apollo rolled his eyes, “Probably, but I am sure it has more to do with him needing to go down to the precinct and yell at the poor detective who sent him into court with an outdated autopsy report.”

Mr. Wright arrived from the kitchen, fresh pot of coffee in hand, “Wow. A defense attorney having an updated report instead of the prosecution? Never thought I’d see the day...”

Apollo flopped on the couch opposite Athena and Klavier, “Hey. Miracles do happen...and considering all out our court wins, we shouldn’t be too surprised that they exist.”

“Here. Here.” Klavier said amiably into his coffee.

“So... what’s this about me needing to fix ‘my prosecutor’?”

Klavier made an amused expression, “Ah, is that what I am called? Well I am honored to be Herr Justice’s”

Athena rolled her eyes, “Oh stop with the charm-“ she looked at Apollo, “he doesn’t want you to know that he’s never been to the Tragic Kingdom”

Apollo stared at Klavier, “Seriously?” Athena elbowed Klavier playfully, “Told you he would react like that”

Klavier sighed, “Is it really that big of a deal? Not going to a children’s amuse-“

“HOLD IT!” Apollo didn’t care that everyone about him flinched (“Indoor voice, Polly, jeeze”, Mr. Wright muttered”), “Disneyland is for everyone,” Apollo breathed, “you seriously haven’t gone? Ever? I mean...it’s only in Anaheim. That’s less than an hour without traffic from here-“

Mr. Wright handed Apollo a cup of coffee, “It’s been a while since ‘Mr. Disney Adult’’s shown his face at the office.”

“You say that as if you don’t have an annual pass too, Mr. Wright.”

Klavier appeared lost in the conversation; it was refreshing to see Mr. Tall, Blonde and Unflappable looking out of his depth, “Is it really a big deal that I haven’t?”

“Mm...not so much,” Mr. Wright said before Apollo could object, “well it wouldn’t be a big deal if you were hanging out with someone else, but I mean considering that you two have been spending a lot of time outside of court together, I think it’s more shocking that Apollo *hasn’t* dragged you down there already.

“You act like I go there all the time-“

“Says the person who has scheduled himself to come in late on days where there are morning annual passholder events,” Athena mused, “or how about the time you, Clay and Tracy, just decided to go to Disneyland after work because you wanted corndogs for dinner”

Across from him Klavier made a face, as if silently saying “Corndogs for dinner? Really? What are you five?”.

Apollo met ‘his prosecutor’s’ eyes, “Those corndogs are legendary, and the only ones I’ll eat.”

“He has a point there,” agreed Mr. Wright, “so I guess the big question is- how long before Klavier gets pulled into driving Apollo down to Anaheim?”

Klavier looked around the room at all of the other attorneys as if expecting for someone to tell him suddenly that this was all an act. Apollo meanwhile was mentally running through his calendar to figure out when he would have time to properly take Klavier to the park. There was so much to do at work-not to mention, he would have to prep Klavier for his first park visit.

“Do you like amusement parks?” Apollo asked Klavier. The blonde man simply shrugged, “I’ve only been to a few in my life. My family wasn’t really into things like theme parks; didn’t see the value in them as entertainment. And when I moved here, I just didn’t go-“

“Not even grad-night?” Athena asked, “Junie told me that’s what the student council is setting up for the seniors. It’s tradition. Heck, every high school in Southern California does a school trip there at least once.”

Klavier shrugged, “I graduated early, remember? I guess I could have gone to the ceremony with the class that was graduating that year, but I wanted to get meine badge so I went home as soon as I could to pass the bar in Germany.”

“There’s one in France!”

Klavier sighed, “If I asked meine family to do anything outside of museums and cultural experiences while we were in France, they would have left me at home.”

“Anyway,” Athena said, “If you’re going to hang with Polly, you’re going to have to go to the parks-“

Apollo felt his cheeks heat, “I mean if that’s not what you like to do for fun, you don’t have to-“

“Oh please,” Mr. Wright interrupted, “I can bet that you’ve been sitting here this entire time planning a trip for him.”

Apollo crossed his arms and sat back in defeat. Athena continued to regale Klavier with anecdotes of the WAA’s trips to the parks as well as Apollo’s impromptu visits, “Has he shown you his pin collection yet?” Athena said in a tone that was too close to the tone she liked to accuse him about his and Klavier’s relationship not being as platonic as Apollo let on.

//As if she doesn’t know the actual truth// Apollo grumbled, “Okay enough. Klavier already knows I am a nerd- he doesn’t need any more evidence about it”

“Ach you’re always cool, Herr Forehead,” Klavier smiled again in “on-stage mode”, which made Apollo decide to put Klavier in his place and show him what he was missing.

“When’s your birthday?” Apollo blurted.

Athena groaned, “Oh my god Apollo, haven’t you heard of Wikipedia?”

“I like that Herr Forehead doesn’t feel the need to research me, it makes a rock god like me feel practically human,” Klavier teased and then with an amiable grin, “May 23rd. However-I told you that on Valentines, don’t you remember?” He said at little too suggestively for Apollo’s comfort, “I’m hurt you don’t remember. Here I thought things that were shared during sleepovers were sacred,” he added a pout for good measure.

Out of the corner of his eye, Apollo saw Athena not-so-subtly pull out of her phone to text something, most certainly to Trucy. Great, he was not going to know peace from either of them for the foreseeable future. Although, Apollo appreciated that Athena had the grace to attempt to hide her grin. Whether or not Klavier was aware of what was happening next to him, Klavier only sipped at his coffee.

“So in three weeks. Great, guess what we’re doing to celebrate your 26th birthday,” Apollo announced.

“It’s on a workday.”

“Take off.”

“Don’t you have to work?” Klavier asked

Apollo turned to Mr. Wright, “Mr. Wright, may I have the 23rd off?”

“Of course. Just put it on the calendar.”

Apollo, having won the debate, smiled smugly at Klavier, “Get ready, we have a lot to do before then.”

Klavier looked genuinely confused, “Like what?!”

He was about to ask what Klavier’s favorite Disney movie was, but then Athena’s phone buzzed, “Simon’s here- he needs help bringing up the food...and Trucy says she wants to also go to Disneyland for Klavier’s birthday, I think that’s a good idea; what do you think, boss?,” she asked as she practically skipped out of the office.

Before Apollo could say anything about Athena or Trucy inviting themselves, Mr. Wright smiled and said, “You know what- unless something pressing comes up and Trucy doesn’t have any projects or tests at school, I think the agency needs a mental health day. Maybe Miles and Simon need one too,” he remarked walking towards his office to, Apollo imagined, call his fiancé.

Apollo would have enjoyed Klavier’s genuinely flummoxed expression, except that he remembered how Klavier, despite his celebrity status, didn’t like to draw attention too himself unless it was in court or on stage- and especially not in public. It was the reason Klavier hadn’t shown up to Clay’s funeral after all. He looked at Klavier feeling guilty for putting his friend on the spot,

“Sorry, if you don’t want to- we don’t have to-“

“Nein, nein,” Klavier said with his genuine smile, “you all are so passionate about it, now I have to experience it”

“Are you sure? I didn’t even ask if that’s how you wanted to spend your birthday-I just kinda got caught up in it.”

Klavier shrugged, “Honestly, considering that I usually spent the last few dragged to stuffy VIP lounges of clubs I didn’t care about with people who as it turned out, cared less about me- I think this may be a gut change of pace.”

Well that made him feel better...and a bit sad for Klavier, “I’ll make sure you have a good time and we won’t be overwhelmed. A lot of celebrities go to Disneyland, and they don’t get mobbed- people are pretty respectful of celebrities having their time in the parks.”

“You sound as if you are familiar.”

“Clay...worked there for a summer, celebrities would come all the time as park guests. And aside from maybe helping a celebrity escape a crowd, they don’t give anyone special treatment unless they’ve paid for a guided tour-“

“Oh- are we not doing that, Herr Forehead?”

Apollo snorted,“Hell no, you’re going to stand in line for Space Mountain like the rest of us plebes.” Also I’m not about to suggest we spend $800 an hour for a theme park tour...

Klavier’s laugh was enough to make Apollo feel better and better about commandeering Klavier’s birthday. He was going to look forward these next few weeks in getting Klavier ready for his first time at the park. The thought of movie nights made Apollo feel a bit warm inside. Warm in a way that he hadn’t felt since Klavier had comforted him during his own birthday.

The office door opened, Athena holding it open so that Simon could come through with the large box that contained their dinner. Apollo braced himself for any barbed words from Athena’s prosecutor, considering how the day’s court proceedings had gone. Instead Simon just incredulously regarded his co-worker with,

“You’ve seriously never been to Disneyland, Gavin-dono?”

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 3

Time for more Brotherhood! When we last left off, we got the backstory on the Elric Brothers, and they were off to investigate rumors of ‘miracles’ by a priest that I don’t think is quite on the up and up, given all the oh-so-subtle “THIS IS A BAD GUY” clues in the last post-credits. But hey, I’ve been wrong before. Let’s get started!

Hmm. Same “Alchemy 101” intro from last episode, should I count the mention of “Equivalent Exchange” here if this shows up each time? I’m happy just spotting it in normal dialogue, but I’ll leave it up to you guys if I should include this mention. Urgh, seeing smiling Mama Elric is still a kick in the gut. Still don’t know some of the characters here, but looking forward to meeting them. Maybe not the Goths so much. We’re at the town! And there’s a [Radio Voice]? Is this the (corrupt) priest? Who… huh, he’s preaching about the “Sun God Leto”. This the primary religion in this setting, or just one guy who’s all “Praise the Sun!” NPC Shopkeeper is asking if the Elrics are street performers in their getups. Gotta admit, Al’s pulling off an impressive loom here, leaning on the counter. “Street performer” wouldn’t be my first guess looking at the giant fanged suit of armor. Ed in his red cloak, however… yeah, gotta side with NPC Shopkeeper here. And really Ed, what did you expect? Why would he ask if you were a carny unless he thought you might be? Oops! Watch your head, Al! Don’t break the poor guy’s radio! Well, that’s smashed. But nothing a little Alchemy can’t fix, right? [Energetic Strings] as Al preps the TC, and a crowd of curious villagers are looking on. And tada, good as new! Smug Ed is proud of- “Amazing, it’s a miracle! You’ve been touched by the Sun God, just like Father Cornello!” No no, it’s alchemy! But to their credit, the villagers come around quickly at the mention of the Elric Brothers, are pleased to meet… *sigh*. Saw that coming a mile away. Wavy-armed Al has to correct his well-meaning friends, point out the “little guy”. Who does not appreciate the running gag. Episode 03: “City of Heresy” So now that that little misunderstanding is out of the way, Ed asks the now-terrified villagers about the voice on the radio. Shopkeep and [Man 1] talk about their leader Father Cornello, who came into town with some pretty big claims, up to bringing the dead back to life. Ed says that’s something he needs to see. And here’s the priest, smiling to a huge crowd of cheering villagers as glowing roses rain from the sky. On of his miracles? And the crowd goes nuts as he catches one of them, and then a bright red glow later it’s a large crystal? Not sure what he just did, but something about that shade of red… just didn’t seem that wholesome to me. Again, trying to reserve judgement, but not getting the best impression of you right now, Father. The Brothers are watching the show, Al says that there’s no doubt it’s alchemy. But somehow he’s ignoring the Law of Equivalent Exchange? EEC: 4 Oh, I see! Normal rules would be that you can’t add mass or change organic matter into inorganic, but here he is catching a rosebud and making a great big crystal statue. And you can’t do that, unless… But that ring on his finger can’t really be a Philosopher’s Stone, could it? That’s like the end-all of this magic system. I could buy one showing up earlyish in this series, but the third episode? Let alone as a tool of a minor villain. Heck, either the Goths or the Government should have already swooped in and taken this, no sane power-block would let such an artifact remain out of their control for long. Anyways, inside the chapel a lady with striking red highlights is praying for “him” to be brought back, when Ed and Al show up. Lady, who captions have named Rose, asks if they are interested in Letoism. So she works for Cornello? Or just a religious villager? But nah, Ed says he’s not really the “religious” type. Given we’ve seen him encounter a demon who claimed to be God, I can understand his position. Rose is sorry to hear that, saying that to know God is to know hope, that through divine grace all things are possible. I’d rather not have religion get pulled into this Watch, but I can- “If you believed… I’m sure Leto would bless you and make you grow taller!” ...wow, ok then. I’m just gonna put away my heartfelt religion discussion, and just sit back and laugh at Al holding Ed back. Come on dude, she’s so sincere she’s got “Sincere” above her head! Don’t hate the messenger! Anyways, back to the topic at hand. How’s about this “bringing the dead back to life” business, does Rose believe in that as well? She does, and in the face of so much optimism Ed just pulls out a ratty notebook and starts reciting… chemical compositions… oh dear. Yeah, Rose has no idea what all this chemistry is about. Ed hunches over, talking about how the chemical composition of the human body has been calculated down to the last microgram, but still no successful human transmutations. And here Rose is saying that they can do with prayer something that modern science can’t do? Rose starts reciting scripture… and Ed holds no punches, explaining any kid could buy those ingredients down at the market for pocket change. “As it turns out humans are pretty cheap.” Hoo boy. This is turning into a proper religion v. science slugfest, isn’t it? And I really, REALLY don’t want to open up that particular can of worms on the Internet, but… Ed’s saying that Alchemists are scientists, they don’t believe in unprovable concepts like creators or gods. And heck, with the progress of science they’ve gotten the power to play gods themselves… Rose takes offense to this sheer arrogance. And Ed… brings up the myth of Icarus? Oooh, topical, isn’t it. About how someone flew too close to the sun and came crashing back down to earth. Al… Ed jumps up and asks if Father Cornello could save an arrogant scientist like him, which Rose jumps upon. *Sigh* Rose isn’t going to have a good time this episode, is she? Higher in the chapel, someone named Cray is talking to Father Cornello, saying a child and a man in a suit of armor wish to see him. Cornello is scowling out the window, says he can’t be bothered right now and to send them away. What’s the trouble, Father? But then he recognizes the Elric name, and- Oooh! Bad Father, you just swore in church! Both men are upset at realizing that the Fullmetal Alchemist (“The man in the armor?” “Dressing the part, it would seem.” Ha!) has come calling? Oh wow you guys are definitely bad, scowling and muttering about your “plans” to ominous string music. It seems Cray is leading the Elrics now, saying that they’re in luck, he can spare a moment of his time. Ed says they won’t take too much, and Cray- gun! Brother Cray has pulled a gun… and is pointing it at Al, while two guys in robes with staves block Ed. Yeah, not too worried about this, although Rose is. Cray claims that they are evil heathens come to discredit the Father, to which Ed agrees to make it quick and instantly takes down the Robes. And Armor Punch to the unfortunate Cray’s face! Father Cornello emerges from the shadows, welcoming them to the hope of their ‘sacred order’ and “apologizing for his disciples’ behavior”. Ed doesn’t buy it for a second, demanding to know how Cornello has been using Alchemy to deceive the villagers. Cornello claims that it’s the work of Leto, creating a statue in his hands as proof of something Alchemy couldn’t do. And Ed agrees, saying he didn’t get how he could just ignore the Law of Equivalent Exchange. EEC: 5 Poor Rose, looking back and forth between the increasingly irate Father Cornello and the angry Edward, who calls out Cornello’s ring as a Philosopher’s Stone. Cornello keeps claiming to be “God’s humble servant”, so Ed says he’ll just have to beat the Truth out of him. Cornello… what. Dude. Dude, NO. That is messed up. Cornello just told Rose to pick up the fallen gun. And then shoot the Fullmetal Alchemist. Thankfully Rose is shocked at that order, says she can’t do that. But Cornello says that his word is that of Leto himself, and finally opens one eye to look down on them. “Shoot him, Rose. It’s God’s will.” Bad Father, very very bad Father! Rose? Rose, honey, please put down the gun. Aw crud, and now Cornello’s bringing up the loss of her fiance, reminding her of a promise; if she had faith, he’d bring him back to life. And with that, she’s pointed the gun at… Al. Ok, that’s ok, we can work with aw damnit Al shut up! You’re the suit of armor, take the name for just a few minutes! And oh my god Ed just shut up shut up stop getting pissed that people keep mistaking your brother for you. “Person about to shoot the Fullmetal Alchemist” is not the time to insist that you’re the Fullmetal Alchemist! And aw crud, Cornello’s shocked that it’s “the short one”. You dun goofed. Ok, back to the gun. Rose is apologizing, saying she has no choice. Ed tries to convince her that Cornello’s been lying, but she’s still believing in the Father’s “miracles”. So Ed tells her to shoot, and- Al! Rose fired blindly and hit Al’s helmet! On the one hand, impressive shot if it had been intentional. On the other hand, what the hell Rose?! Rose rightfully drops the gun in shock and starts screaming, Cornello smugly says that “God Leto is pleased”. And then tells her to pick the gun back up and shoot the other as well. And then the headless suit of armor sits back up and chides Cornello for making her do enough already! Ha! Take that, fake priest! [Exciting Music] starts up as Cornello blathers about Al being an abomination, how the ‘evil’ must be purged… and pulls a switch? Gah, manticore! Manticores are a thing in this setting! Cornello says his chimera should be up to the task. Or not a manticore? In the light it looks like the front half of a lion, and the back half of a rat. Edward calmly summons a spear, further shocking Cornello at the lack of a TC. But… ooh, the chimera just sliced right through the weapon. Seems the claws are sharp enough to “tear through iron”. Maybe Al should step back? Ah, nevermind. Ed’s pants may have been shredded, but the chimera’s claws didn’t do jack against his steel automail leg. And a bite attack likewise failed against his automail arm. And the pieces finally click into place for Cornello… wait, hold on. This seems really familiar for some reason… didn’t we just go through all this two episodes ago? Yeah, we did! This is almost word for word from Ep 1! Failed attack against an automail limb, Al getting his head knocked off, bad guy smugly accusing them of breaking the “No Human Transmutation” rule… you guys were saying this was the first proper episode in the manga, right? How Brotherhood’s first episode was mostly to show off the characters, and they put all the backstory into the second? Not saying this is bad or anything, just figured I should mention it. Poor, poor Rose. You’ve had a rough day, haven’t you? And good grief Cornello shut up, stop blathering about their attempting human transmutation. I don’t know exactly why you’re evil, beyond your earlier attempts to kill these boys for getting too close to your “plans”, but you are not helping your case right now. Yup, there it is, you just insulted their arrogance for trying to bring someone dead back to life. Remind me, what was your promise to Rose? Al plaintively asks for Cornello to hand over the stone before he gets hurt. It goes over about as well as you could expect, Transmuting his cane into a good grief is that a minigun? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are a terrible priest! Ed blocks the shots with Earthbending, boasting about he and God don’t get along very well, as Al swoops up Rose and gets her out of the line of fire. Or not really, because Cornello takes aim at them and starts blasting away, Rose only protected by Al’s bulk. And Ed… ha! Ignores the door and Transmutes a new one to get past the hapless disciples, and the brothers prance off down the hallway as gun-toting Father Cornello runs out and orders them to chase. Brothers are running along, but a couple of disciples have blocked off the end of the hallway, saying that’s far enough. Ed just laughs and goes full Alex Mercer on them. Disciple Group #2 are waiting in the wings… and their boss gets a Armor Boot to the face. Next! Now they’re… up in the clocktower? Al’s doing something to the bell, talking to Rose who is understandably upset. Al says that they aren’t evil. They just wanted to see their mom’s smile again. And guh guh don’t show that Thing again get it away, we already know it failed don’t show us again. Al goes on to talk about how Alchemy’s based on the Law of Equivalent Exchange- EEC: 6 -and how the price of their failed attempt was enormous, costing Ed his left leg and Al his entire body. And then Ed gave up his arm to bind Al to the armor. Now they’re on a mission, Al to restore Ed to his original body, and Ed to do likewise to Al. It won’t be easy, but it’s the path they chose. All they can do is keep moving. And here’s the sticking point, Cornello’s “promise” to Rose. And true to her optimism, she still has hope, going so far as to say that even if the Elrics failed, that doesn’t mean he will. Poor, poor Rose. Back inside, Cornello runs past a room… and then looks back in, finding Ed sitting on a desk. Cornello’s office? Ed seems confident, is he planning something? Wait, what? “Tell me what I need to know and I’ll be on my way... “ Cornello. Cornello, buddy, tell me you aren’t going to fall for that… oh my Sun God, really? You can’t seriously believe after all you’ve done that Ed will just walk away after a few questions. He’s obviously stalling for whatever Al was doing. *Sigh* Fine, whatever. What’s your deal, Cornello? Why waste time with these phony ‘miracles’ when you can ignore Equivalent Exchange? Oh? So you’re attracting disciples with your ‘miracles’, building an army of fanatics? As unimpressed as Ed is, it’s not actually the worst plan. Why do everything yourself when you can convince some schmucks to do it for you? I mean, they won’t last a second against the State Alchemists, but whatever. Although it’s still not answering the question of “why”. Why do you need an army? Why do you want to use the Philosopher’s Stone to “tear the country apart”? Heck, ignoring your stupid offering of a ‘slice’ of the country to Ed (do you really think he’d go for that?), I still want to know how you got a Philosopher’s Stone, and why someone smarter hasn’t beaten you up for it already. Alright, whatever. [evil laughter], glowing white eyes, cast in shadow. Are you done monologuing? Because it’s probably time for Al to come busting down the door or whatever. “Wait, what are you laughing about?” You, dude. You are just cartoonishly evil. You got nothing on Mr. Freeze. See, Ed’s even calling you a novice! Evil Overlord List, Cornello. Read it. Wait, what? “On”? No. YES. YES. On Switch + Microphone = Dawning Realization the Radio Transmitter was turned on, plugged into the Church Bell Transmuted into a Loudspeaker. “There were never any miracles, Rose…” Shut up Al don’t ruin this moment for me! Ok, moment slightly redeemed by the “Are you f*cking kidding me” looks on the disciples’ faces. Here I was thinking Ed was recording it maybe, delaying for Al to show up and knock his teeth out? But transmitting Cornello’s monologue over the entire town? Genius. I am standing up and applauding, I am not even kidding. Oh man, these reaction cuts are gold, NPC Shopkeeper in particular looks pissed. Even the dog is shocked! Ok, ok. Give me a second to breathe… Just give it up, Cornello. You aren’t talking your way out of this one. And stop trying to fight, Ed way outclasses you. And… ouch, your Transmutation on your damaged gun just failed, looks like it melded with your arm? A rebound, like the failed Human Transmutation? Yep, Cornello’s lost it, yelling about being the ‘chosen emissary of the Sun God Leto’. Cut to the chapel, and Hulk-Cornello just smashed through. They’re smashing the place up, Cornello still ranting about being the Fist of God (does he really believe in Leto?), to which Ed Transmutes the great big statue to give him what he asked for. And Cornello’s down, like the half-baked villain he is. Now Ed can grab the… Philosopher’s Stone? It just stopped glowing and fell to the ground before dissolving. I mean, way too early for Ed to get the Quest Item, but still. Ed’s all shocked, saying the Stone is supposed to be the perfect material. So it was fake? But then how did Cornello do all that? Speaking of, the guy is just whining and whimpering now that he apparently can’t Transmute anymore. And Ed just… lets him go, yells at him to get out of there? Dude, arrest him! Guy was brainwashing a village, tried to have you killed, and was working to take over the country (no way he would have succeeded, but still). Don’t just let him get away! But apparently he does, it’s later as the Elric Brothers are talking outside the chapel. Come on, perk up guys. Just because this was a dead end- Rose, what the hell?! Put the gun down! Didn’t you hear him, it was a fake! And whoa, accusing them of keeping it for themselves? To get their bodies back, and bring back- Oh. Huh. Apparently that’s not even a consideration. “People don’t come back from the dead, Rose. Not ever… Not ever…” So, it really is just a quest to get their bodies back? Not to bring back Mama Elric? Rose collapses, crying about how Cornello promised her, that if she was faithful a miracle would occur. Without that hope, what is she supposed to believe in now? She’s begging them, asking what to do… and the Brothers walk right by her. Dudes, not cool. Don’t just leave her like this. “I can’t tell you that. You have to figure it out. Stand up and walk. Keep moving forward. You’ve got two good legs. So use them. You’re strong enough to make your own path.” ...while I admire the intent behind the message (and is this the show that Monty Oum’s catchphrase of “Keep moving forward” came from?), I can’t help but think that this isn’t he best time. Rose has just had her world destroyed, the source of her faith uprooted, the hope of getting her fiance back shattered. She needs something a little more gentle than “suck it up”. Later that night, seems the entire village has gathered, the [angry mob yelling] for Cornello. Inside the chapel, Cornello is clutching his new metal arm and ranting about the little brat… until another voice interrupts him? Lust? The lady’s complaining that they should have just incited a rebellion, while the fat guy chews on one of the chimera’s legs, then says he’s hungry and asks to eat the old man. Lust tells Gluttony no, she doesn’t want to risk indigestion. Cornello does not appreciate being mocked, says he won't SWEET LETO WHAT THE HELL Um, so Lust apparently has Terminator 2 claws on her glove, just stabbed Cornello through the forehead. Camera pans to an ouroboros-like symbol above her bust? Anyways, Cornello dead. Lust complains about ‘Father’ not being pleased about starting from scratch- Gluttony? Gluttony, no. Gluttony NO. No eating him. Don’t you- Ok, didn’t not need to see that. Well ok! Good episode, some parts seemed a little bit repetitive, drawn from the previous two I guess? But good overall, more establishment of the Elrics and setting stuff up for future episodes. So what’s up next? Riza! Doing paperwork! Seems the Elrics travel to the Eastern Command Center and to report to Colonel Roy Mustang (name is still manly). And there they meet the Sewing Life Alchemist? Oh, so bio-alchemy’s a thing? I guess with the divide between organic and inorganic matter, with all the Earth and Waterbending we’ve seen so far time to see the other side. And will this get us details on that chimera that Cornello made? Oh hey, is that a Cerberus? Looks like a three-headed dog in a cage, captured experiment or what? Episode 04: “An Alchemist’s Anguish” “Some meetings in this life are destined only for heartbreak.”