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when-they-write-stuff · 4 years ago

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SterekWeek2020: Day 2 (Cozy Comfort)

When Stiles used to think of the autumn season, he’d think of three things.

Baking, pumpkins, and colored leaves.

Halloween used to be his favorite time of the year. He remembered the days when his mom would handmake his costume and they would spend the day decorating the house or pressing dry leaves into the pages of old notebooks. She’d bake more and more in the days leading up to Halloween and they’d usually end up having too many leftovers for a small family of three.

Stiles remembered trying to bake alongside her and always getting eggshells into the cookie dough. When his dad would come home, they’d carve pumpkins the day before Halloween, and Stiles had always been grossed out by the pumpkin guts. His mom would save the seeds, claiming she was going to plant them in the upcoming year.

She never did.

Stiles still lived for Halloween. Of course, he did.

Though, before werewolves, he had enjoyed it a lot more. Because back then, seeing a ghost or a monster on the streets was something that just happened once a year. Stiles didn’t take in each costume and unconsciously compare it to what he’d seen in real life. He didn’t jump when one was uncannily similar to whatever Monster of the Week they’d been chasing earlier, trying to pretend like he wasn’t internally freaking out.

There were still certain parts that reminded him of before, though. Stiles found himself in the preserve more than once looking at the red and orange trees. He dug through his mom’s old cookbook and did his best not to burn down the house, grinning at his dad’s reaction when the man caught the smell of her favorite cookies.

Sometimes, Stiles remembered that he probably wasn’t the only one with old memories that haunted the current season. And that might’ve been why he showed up at Derek’s front door without a warning one day, grinning brightly with one of those tiny pumpkins in each hand.

The man didn’t look impressed.

Because yeah, Stiles was pretty sure he still got underneath Derek’s skin. He wouldn’t call them enemies exactly, not anymore. Enough years had passed that Derek seemed to have accepted his fate and the teenagers that basically lived in his loft. Though, Stiles wasn’t sure if he could call them friends either.

Maybe. Sometimes, he thought. Like when he crashed on the couch after pack night and Derek would wake him up with a cup of coffee and a strange look on his face as the man pretended Stiles didn’t exist for the rest of the morning.

Right now, though, Derek looked more than confused at Stiles’s sudden appearance. So he didn’t give the man a chance to kick him out, ducking underneath Derek’s arm and moving into the loft.

“Good afternoon, Sourwolf. How are you doing on this lovely fall day?”

“Stiles,” Derek said, sliding the door shut and turning around. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Geez, dude,” Stiles said, plopping down on the couch. “Can’t a guy with tiny pumpkins show up for an unexpected visit once in a while and not get growled at?”

Derek narrowed his eyes. Stiles snorted.

“Fine, whatever, be like that. It doesn’t matter, because we’re gonna carve pumpkins!”

The man looked at him for a long moment, a little bit of red in his eyes. And Stiles figured if he was going to die in any way, this might be the most embarrassing. But instead of ripping his throat out or even growling a little bit, Derek just turned away and moved into the kitchen.

Stiles stared after the werewolf for a moment before shoving himself up and stumbling after him.

“Dude, Derek, where are you going? Hey! You’re a terrible host!”

Derek had his back toward him when Stiles stumbled into the kitchen. Coming to a complete stop, he blinked at him and then sniffed suspiciously, moving over to the man’s side.

“Why does it smell like chocolate in here?”

“Go away, Stiles.”

But Stiles ignored him, peering over Derek’s shoulder. There was a giant pot on the stove and Stiles blinked at it before looking at Derek curiously. “That’s hot chocolate.”

“So?”

“Can werewolves actually have chocolate?”

Derek did give him a red-eyed look this time and Stiles raised his hands in surrender, backing a step away. He figured it still wasn’t too late to get his throat ripped out and the last thing he wanted to do was step over one too many lines. But this… this was domestic. He noticed for the first time that Derek was in nothing but sweats and a red thumbhole sweater, a dishrag thrown over his shoulder. And it was so painfully domestic, Stiles felt like he might have walked into an alternate dimension.

He glanced around the kitchen, noting how quiet the loft was too. Usually, when he came over, there was at least one beta around somewhere. But it was completely silent now.

“So, have the rest of the werewolves abandoned ship then?”

“They’re at a movie.”

“And their Sourwolf alpha didn’t want to go along?”

Once more, Stiles got a red-eyed look. He swallowed nervously and willed his heart not to flip at that. He might have failed though, because Derek’s ears turned a little red too and the man turned away, stirring the stovetop hot chocolate a little more aggressively than before.

Stiles turned away, wandering back into the living. Dropping back onto the couch, he picked up one of the pumpkins and turned it over in his hand, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully.

A few seconds later, Derek came out with two steaming mugs. Stiles blinked in surprise.

“So I’m not getting kicked out then?”

“Shut up,” Derek said, setting down one of the mugs in front of him. The man glared at the miniature pumpkins. “And how are you planning on carving those?”

“It’s possible,” Stiles said, shrugging. To be honest, he wasn’t actually sure if that was true. But giving it a try wouldn’t do any harm, right? “Do you really think I could have lugged two normal-sized pumpkins all the way up here?”

“I don’t know why you’d attempt in the first place.”

Stiles dropped his gaze, chewing on his lip again. And to his silence, Derek raised a brow.

“Stiles?”

“It used to be a Stilinski family tradition,” Stiles said, shrugging. He really hoped he sounded as nonchalant as he was attempting to be. “Pumpkin carving. But my dad’s working the next few nights and there’s no way I’m touching pumpkin guts alone.”

Derek’s lips twitched. “Pumpkin guts?”

“Yes, dude, that’s exactly what they are. And no, I won’t be taking constructive criticism.”

“I don’t think those pumpkins are big enough to contain pumpkin guts,” Derek said, bringing his mug to his lips. Stiles glanced at the one in his hands and sighed.

“Yeah, probably not.”

He’d debated attempting to carry two pumpkins up all three flights of stairs, he really had. Because in the end, Stiles knew himself best, and there was no way he was taking two trips. But he also knew himself well enough to know that carrying both would end up in nothing but catastrophe.

Stiles set the pumpkin back down and picked up the mug Derek had brought him instead. Studying the man over the top of it, he took a careful sip and then grinned.

“Dude, this is actually really good!”

Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles could have sworn his ears turned a little red again. And once more, Stiles thought it was some kind of miracle that he hadn’t gotten himself kicked out yet. But then again, watching Derek quietly, Stiles wondered if he had been sort of right.

Maybe Derek didn’t want to be alone.

It was the little things, Stiles supposed. Setting his mug back down, he pushed himself up and vanished into the other room for a second before coming back out with two sharpies. To Derek’s raised-eyebrow expression, Stiles grinned again.

“Just because we can’t carve them doesn’t mean we can’t do something. I hope you have one or two artistic skills, Sourwolf, because I have none.”

“You’re an idiot,” Derek said. “You realize that, right?”

“Or an unorthodox genius,” Stiles shot back, grabbing one of the pumpkins and tossing it at the man. Derek caught it with a surprised grunt and then glared. Stiles smirked. “I know I’m not the only one with a Halloween tradition. What did you use to do?”

He half regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but then it was too late. Derek’s face did something strange and the man glanced down at his hands for a long second before answering.

“There were little things,” he said quietly. “Laura and I used to do hot chocolate and scary movies. Back in New York.”

Stiles glanced down at his mug and then looked toward the TV before turning his gaze back to Derek. The man was still avoiding his gaze. “And that’s what you were gonna…”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

If there was any time Stiles was going to get kicked out of the loft, he figured it’d be now. But Derek just shrugged and Stiles couldn’t help the pang that struck through him. Glancing around, he grabbed the nearest blanket and wrapped it around himself, nestling the mug against his chest.

“Well, I guess the pumpkins will have to wait until later, then.”

Derek gave him a sharp, almost warning look. As if he expected Stiles to make fun of him or crack another joke or something. But Stiles just offered up his best smile and nodded toward the remote.

“I’m game for a good scary movie.”

For a moment, he was almost nervous that had been the line he wasn’t supposed to cross. Inviting himself into the loft had been one thing, but if this was too much—

“Stiles—”

“Derek,” Stiles said, taking one more step and cutting the man off. “I’m here.”

Derek looked at him for another long moment. And then there it was again. That small smile that seemed to tug at the corners of his lips, even if it never became the full thing. Derek didn’t do anything but grunt and grab the remote, leaning back, but Stiles figured he’d take it as a win. He’d take anything that didn’t involve getting his throat ripped out as a win.

“Just a warning though, big guy,” Stiles said, huddling deeper underneath his blanket. “I don’t do jump scares.”

Derek rolled his eyes. Stiles grinned.

And if there was a large lump pressed up against him less than half an hour later, Stiles wouldn’t say anything. No matter how much he really, really wanted to. Especially because there still hadn’t been any jump scares yet.

(And there were two pumpkins scribbled over in black sharpie by the doorstep when the betas came home.)

#sterek #teen wolf #sterekweek2020 #stiles stilinski #derek hale #derek hale x stiles stilinski #ficlet #cozycomfort #sterek edits #teen wolf moodboard #sterek au

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according-to-the-laura · 3 years ago

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StackedNatural Day 123: 6x15, 9x14

StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]

February 25, 2022

6x15: The French Mistake

Written by: Ben Edlund

Directed by: Charles Beeson

Original air date: February 25, 2011

Plot Synopsis:

To protect Sam and Dean from a surprise attack from Raphael, Balthazar sends them both into an alternate universe where their lives are a TV show called Supernatural.

Features:

Thee Jared and Jensen, the prediction of the J2 Fallout, Misha’s tweeting, the death of Kripke and Singer, Raphael’s new vessel.

My Thoughts:

The thing about this episode is that it walks a razor’s edge between hysterically funny and so cringey that I can’t watch it. I have a very low tolerance for secondhand embarrassment and the acting scene makes me want to die.

I like the show poking fun at itself, especially with the editing conversation and Robert Singer and Kripke being there. Misha is very funny and weirdly reminds of Casifer in that I can see him playing someone playing Cas. It’s a really fine distinction but it’s really fun to watch.

The set decoration of Jared’s house is absolutely fucking insane but I’m not willing to look up his house to see if it’s similarly garish. Why do you have those portraits of yourself everywhere, Jared? There is so much about this episode that I truly don’t even know where to begin. Insane that it predicted the J2 Fallout.

I know it’s not likely that I would do any better in the situation but so much of this episode is me watching horrified between my fingers and whispering “you are so stupid” over and over again.

Where is Virgil supposed to be buying these guns? You made a big deal about filming being in Canada, we don’t have any stores like that. Are we supposed to believe that he crossed the border, bought a gun, and crossed back without any issues all in one day? Also, there aren’t maple leafs on our caution tape.

Outside of the weird universe-traveling stuff (speaking of which, had a lot more panache in season 6 than it does later), I really love Balthazar. I’ve forgotten a lot about him because it’s been so long since I’ve seen this season but he really is fun. I like how much he uses his wings, it’s one of the most fun things about the angels and it isn’t used nearly enough. I like that he refers to Cas as being “deep underground” when in retrospect we know that he’s making deals with Crowley in Hell. The end of this episode is one of the first overtly suspicious things that Cas does in season 6, where Dean outright asks him what’s actually going on and he doesn’t give an answer.

The whole concept of this episode in retrospect is kind of delicious torture from Chuck. I wish they had more of an existential crisis about it, because it’s showing them directly that they are in someone else’s story. I wish they questioned whether or not the writers of the show were prophets and how it all worked.

I truly don’t know how to rate this one but it made me feel a lot of Something.

Notable Lines:

“Oh, crap! I'm a painted whore!

“Wow. I must be the star of this thing.”

“Ooh, "priority."what's in it?” “I bought part of a dead person.”

“What kind of douchebag names a character after himself?”

“The scary man killed the attractive crying man, and then he started to pray.”

“If I lose against Raphael, we all lose. Everything.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.4

IMdB Rating: 9.6

9x14: Captives

Written by: Robert Berens

Directed by: Jerry Wanek

Original air date: February 25, 2014

Plot Synopsis:

Kevin's spirit returns to ask Sam and Dean to find his mother. Castiel is taken to Bartholomew.

Features:

A haunted Bunker, Kevin stuck in the veil, the fate of Linda Tran, Crowley’s intern, Cas’ kill count, Cas’ rag tag army of misfit toys.

My Thoughts:

This is a better episode than I was expecting it to be. I haven’t seen most of season 9 since it first aired, so the only thing I remembered about this episode was the cold open (which is admittedly great).

Bartholomew is like Cole in that whenever I’m not actively looking at him onscreen I forget he exists and even when I am looking at him I often can’t remember what his whole deal is. I liked watching Cas kill him because I was extremely bored of his whole deal. Cas was really the only interesting thing about the angel plot in this episode and that might just be because I love Cas. Doing civil war in heaven so close to the civil war in season 6, which is much more fleshed out even with the short amount of screen time it got, was a mistake in my opinion. I would have preferred to spend more time seeing how angels were adapting to life on earth. We learn later ho rare it was for angels to walk the earth pre-season 6, so I wish more angels were experiencing their first vessels and their first brush with humanity. I want to know how many of them really do learn to feel and care when they’re outside of heaven.

This episode does a tiny little bit to soothe my absolute rage whenever I think about Kevin’s death. I see what Berens was trying to do in cleaning up the absolute disaster of a mess Buckleming made of his plotline. I would have liked to see ghost Kevin some more so that he could have an actual character arc that ended on his terms rather than coming back long enough to tell the brothers to stop feeling guilty (when they should) and go back to being codependent (when they shouldn’t). I did think the reunion between him and Linda was genuinely touching.

Notable Lines:

“That's your third unanswered voicemail. You ever think maybe he's just not that into you?”

“You've been flying solo for so long, you've forgotten that's what angels do. We follow orders.”

“Angels fighting angels has to stop somewhere. Might as well stop with me.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 7.8

IMdB Rating: 8.1

In Conclusion: More than anything I want to get completely stoned and watch The French Mistake.

<< Previous Day | Next Day >>

#Stackednatural #supernatural #spn #6x15 #The French Mistake #9x14 #Captives #also typically the phrase french mistake is about like. Straight guys being persuaded to have gay sex and then regretting it.#so what’s all that about.#some drowley going on in that second ep too huh

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janesramblings · 4 years ago

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Jealous

this one was requested by @stormofsansas and I had so much fun writing it, thanks for the request!

“Did you hear about Ace’s supposed girlfriend?” Bess asks me as I close the front door of my house and burrow into my coat. It’s only November, but Maine gets cold surprisingly fast.

“Have I what?” I ask as I unlock my car and slide into the driver’s seat. Bess slept over last night, helping me figure out something vaguely Marvin-related.

“Heard about Ace’s girlfriend?” I shake my head. “Yeah she showed up on your day off. Ace seemed really smitten.”

“Who says ‘smitten’ anymore?” I ask as I turn the key in the ignition. The car revs and then stops. I turn the key again with the same result.

“Who drives ancient convertibles anymore?” Bess counters as I sigh and pitch forward against my steering wheel. “Sorry, that was mean,” Bess says. “I get like this when I eat raw pancakes.”

“Was that supposed to be an apology?” I ask as I sit up. Bess finds it hilarious that I work at The Claw and can’t cook.

“Sort of. Hang on let’s see if we can call Ace and get a ride.”

“Sure. Maybe we can learn about his girlfriend.”

“Supposed girlfriend,” Bess corrects as she brings her phone to her ear.

While Bess tries to get Ace to drive us to work, I try to figure out who would date Ace. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with Ace. I mean he’s kind, has great quips, and is incredibly handsome. There’s no denying that. And his talent for understanding a person is envious. But I just can’t imagine Ace dating someone.

I mean, there was Laura Tandy. But she was too selfish. She used Ace to get what she wanted, and was willing to leave for Paris instead of staying with him. And then there were those girls who flocked around Ace in high school. I didn’t really pay much attention to Ace back then. He was a grade ahead of me and not particularly popular - he played one sport in his freshman year before he decided it wasn’t for him and the only club he was part of was the coding club because he didn’t like the president and wanted to disrupt it as much as he could - but he was the only one who could answer as many questions as me in my forensics class. I guess high school me was always in awe of him. And even though we’re friends now and I’ve considered him my equal for months, it’s always disconcerting when you find out people you admire are just human.

Bess’s voice brings me back to myself. “What did you say?” I ask her.

Bess rolls her eyes at me. “I said that Ace is on his way over. And that girl is with him.”

“The girlfriend?”

“Supposed girlfriend,” Bess repeats emphatically. I shake my head at her.

Twenty minutes later I’m in the back of Ace’s car squished next to Bess, staring at the back of Callie Something-or-other’s preppy blonde head. When Ace pulled into my driveway she bounced out of the car in her three inch stilettos, kissed my cheeks like we were in Paris, and waved her stacks of bracelets as she called me “doll”, “honey”, and “darling”. I’m pretty sure my sinuses will never be the same after having to breathe the fumes from her tacky perfume. The whole time we stood in my driveway she clung to Ace like a life preserver, chocking the poor boy half to death.

I don’t hate her. I don’t.

“So Nancy darling,” Callie purrs, “I hear you fancy yourself a detective.”

Bess and I share a look. I glace at Ace in the rearview mirror, trying to read his thoughts, but he’s closed off, his eyes dull. “Yeah, I guess that’s one way to say it.”

Callie wrinkles her nose at me like I’m a cute child that finally understood the purpose of wearing shoes on their feet and not their hands. “Have you solved any interesting mysteries around here honey? Anything fun in this small town I should know about?” My temper flashes at her overly-sweet tone. I can feel Bess nudge my elbow as a warning, but I ignore her.

“Well, I did solve the mystery of the girl who fell off the bluffs after the Sea Queen ceremony nineteen years ago.”

“Oh great, she said it,” Bess mutters.

Callie gives me a breathless “ohh” but her eyes are as dead as Ace’s. “What happened to her?”

“Oh she was slut shamed by the entire town and was pregnant with a baby who actually happened to be me and she jumped from the bluffs after I was born because she didn’t want to live and she came back to haunt my dad and also me so we could solve her mystery, which was also tied to the death of my dad’s wife. Turns out she was killed by my maternal uncle. I caught him to but not before he killed Bess’s cousin.”

Callie stares at me for a moment before squinting her hazel eyes. “You really should send me that video game. It sounds fun!” With that she swings back to face the front and I resist the urge to throw my messenger bag at the back of her head. I try to gauge Ace’s feelings again, but I can’t read him at all. And it’s a little annoying. Okay. More like very annoying.

I glare at her until Ace pulls up in front of the Claw. I wait for her to get out of the car with Ace, talking a mile a minute (”ooo Ace is this where you work? It’s so cool that Horseshoe Bay has an authentic restaurant. You guys farm salmon or something right?”) before I bury my head in my hands with a groan. Bess starts laughing.

“What?” I snap.

“Your life would make a good video game.”

I reach over Bess, open her door, and unbuckle her seatbelt. “Get out,” I say only half jokingly. Bess’s smile drops and she puts an arm around me, pulling me into her.

“It’s okay to be jealous. You like Ace and up until today, I thought he like you too.” I sit back up.

“I’m not jealous!” I say indignantly. Bess raises her eyebrows silently. “I’m not!” I repeat, sitting up. I’m not jealous of Callie.

At all.

“Alright. If you say so. You know your feelings best. But do come in sometime this century. You might have saved our lives, but George still expects you to work.”

“I know, I know I’m coming.” Bess leaves, giving me a minute to shout into my hands before climbing out of the car, crossing the parking lot, and pushing thorough the front door of the Claw. George runs to me when she sees me.

“Have you met this walking Barbie doll?” she whispers.

“Unfortunately,” I respond. George rolls her eyes.

“Serve her would you? She’s giving me a migraine. You’d think Ace would date someone with sense. Kinda like you.”

“Kinda?” I ask, amused despite my annoyance.

“Well, you don’t always have sense.”

“And here I was thinking you wanted my help.”

“Just serve her, Drew.”

“Do you want me to change?”

“Just go before she asks me for help,” George says dangerously. I do as I’m told. I pull off my coat and grab a menu before walking towards Callie, who’s at a table examining her nails. She grins when she looks up at me.

“Hi! You’re my waitress?”

“Seems so,” I say.

Callie grins. “Well, since you like mysteries as much as I do, why don’t you surprise me? Talk to Ace, I’m sure he knows what I’d like.”

Okay, okay we get it. You know Ace. I force a smile and take back the menu. “Sounds great.” I turn on my heel and march towards the kitchen. “Your guest wants a surprise Ace. I’m gonna change. I’ll serve it when it’s ready.”

Ace looks up from the bowl he’s washing, startled. At least that’s one emotion I can read. “Okay.” I nod at him and stalk off. “And hey, Nance?”

“Yeah?” I say shortly, stepping back towards the sink.

“Never mind.”

“Great.” I march off again, and change into my uniform with shaking hands. I have no idea why this girl gets under my skin but she does. Ace stops me on my way back to the tables. He looks like he’s about to say something, but he just shoves a plate of salad and fries at me. “Thanks,” I say, my tone softening as I meet his eyes. I can never stay mad at him. He smiles back at me, and my heart does that weird butterfly on steroids thing it’s been doing lately.

I walk towards Callie’s table and put the plate in front of her. “Oh look, Ace got it right! Did you know that the first time Ace and I went out in sophomore year of high school he guessed my dinner choice and he was right then. Just like he is now.”

“That’s great,” I say as a surge of... something rushes through me. “I gotta go.”

I turn as the tears start to fall. “Nance are you-” I ignore Bess’s question as I race for the lockers. Of course I’d ignore my feelings for Ace until the moment I have no chance with him. Because I’m incapable of any relationship with anyone. Not with Nick. Not with Owen. Not with any of my parents. Why would my relationship with Ace be any different? I crash into someone as I pass the kitchen, but I keep going without apologizing until someone’s hand is on my waist, stopping me.

“Nancy are you okay?” I look up to see Ace looking down at me.

“No Ace I’m not. So please leave me alone.” I pull out of his grasp.

“Nancy, Nancy wait. You can’t push me away.”

I spin around, my jealousy replaced with anger. “And you can’t flirt with someone and bump into someone whenever you walk with them and call them brilliant and say you’ve never had a friend like them and then show up in their driveway with your girlfriend Ace! It’s rude to lead people on. So don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Ace stares at me for a moment. “What girlfriend?”

“What?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend Nancy.”

“But Callie said you went out-”

“In sophomore year. Yeah. She’s my mom’s best friend’s kid. We went out once before deciding it wouldn’t work.”

What? “But then why did she flirt with you?”

Ace rolls his eyes. “Because I told her something about you and now she’s sizing you up.”

Oh. “What did you tell her?”

“She asked about my friends. And I said that there’s no one more important to me than you.”

I snort.

“No. Nancy. I mean it.” Ace steps towards me. I look up into his clear blue eyes. They’re not closed off anymore. They’re earnest. And truthful. “I’ve never met a girl who makes me more alive than you Nancy. And year I flirt with you. And bump into you when we walk. And I call you brilliant because it’s true. Because I... like you.” He reaches for one of my hands, and I let him take it. “I have liked you since you told me about failing senior year when I was out smoking. And I like you more every time I see you.”

I stand on my toes. I lose my balance and Ace’s free hand shoots out to grab my waist as I rest my hand on his shoulder. “I like you too Ace.”

He grins at me, his head dipping down towards mine. I stretch up until the space between our lips is gone, and oh god kissing Ace is the best thing in the world. I could stay here in this moment with his hand on my waist and our fingers intertwined forever. But we do break away, however, when someone starts applauding. We turn to see Callie, Bess, George, and Nick (where’d he come from) standing in the door cheering us on. I glance at Ace.

“Well they’d know eventually,” he says.

“True,” I agree as we both drop into theatrical bows.

#nancy drew cw #ace nancy drew #nace #ace x nancy

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softranswolves · 3 years ago

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that haunting tenderness

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Rating: n/a for now (not sure where it'll go)

Ships: Laura/Stiles, Allison/Derek, past Jennifer/Laura

Chapter: 1/?

Words: 1449

"You can't be serious, Derek! You know what she's done." Her voice is dangerously low but Derek wills himself to not cave.

"I'm not saying I trust her. I'm saying we can use her." The fact that he won't meet Allison's eyes is telling; the bond they've created over the past few months solid enough that she sees his hesitation in going through with the plan.

"I'd say I can't believe you, but I know you and I know what this could mean. Just... don't forget what we've been through."

She walks away at that, turning her face so he can't see the tears, but he hears the slightest note of a whimper as she holds in a sob. Too many secrets and lies between the entire pack have made everyone a little frayed, tethers tying members together in ways they hadn't expected.

Stiles pulls Allison into a hug to help muffle her feelings and he watches Derek, knowing she and Cora have already given argument for him to not go through with this. He has tears of his own, but for his father, not the decision on the table. It's been a full day since Jennifer took his father, and while she has guaranteed he is still alive, he has no reason to take her word for it.

Derek, on the other hand, doesn't give himself the space to process his emotions in this moment, knowing the eclipse is almost upon them. He turns to face Jennifer instead, determination painted across his face. If only one other person can see through that facade, she's already refused to look at him in this moment.

"What do I need to do?"

The first thing Laura notices is the smell of rubbing alcohol, pungent and sharp, followed by the overwhelming mixture of fear, anxiety, and anger in the air. It's cloying enough to cover the secondary scents of animals, dogs and cats and a few gerbils. The combination doesn't make sense to her, clashes with what fragments she remembers. It feels like a bad dream, seeing half-turned Peter lunge at her, the full moon bright above their heads. But he couldn't be there, he was comatose, wounds still trying to heal despite his abilities. She groans in confusion, shaking her head, only to hear unfamiliar voices.

"She's awake," a female voice gasped, relief washing over it. "Derek, she's awake!"

Where is Derek?! Were they attacked? Is he safe? Laura's internal voice was frantic, the name pulling her out of her stupor.

"Might want to be a little quieter," a male voice said. It was familiar, too familiar, and Laura felt herself grow a little calmer despite the confusion. "She hasn't exactly been able to hear for a while."

Was that Stiles? Sheriff's son, Stiles? The hell was he doing here?

"Take it easy, this is going to be a bit of a slow process," a different female voice chimed in. This one sounded closest, maybe a foot from Laura's ear. She had to be mistaken, there was no way she was hearing who she thought she was. "You're probably a bit confused, but you have your family here. I think they'd like to say hello."

Family? As in more than Derek? What the hell is going on?

Laura makes a few unintelligible sounds, her mouth feeling like it's full of cotton. She awkwardly moves her tongue to lick her lips and is surprised by just how dry they are before a hand gently holds the back of her head, pushing up slightly to press a water bottle to her mouth.

"C'mon now, Laura, you can do this," the same male voice from before says. She forces herself to swallow a sip, and then another and another after that. "There you go."

The entire situation is starting to feel more and more bizarre, but she can't communicate that. She feels like she's stuck underwater, all of her senses damped yet present still. More sounds try to fight their way out of her mouth, and she's struggling against her own body until she feels a breath against her chest, the feeling of someone leaning close to her mouth to hear what she's trying to say, a steadying hand pressed firmly against her shoulder to keep her from moving.

"Der-, where'she?! Whe-" It's a murmur, the words slurring together, but it has fire behind it.

"Oh god," she hears a deeper voice chime in. Heavy footsteps follow as the voice's owner comes closer at an apparent run. "Laura? Laura, I'm right here." She can feel the distant touch of someone holding her hand in theirs, pressing a kiss to the pack of it.

"Der'k?" She questions. It doesn't sound like him, but nothing else is right either. Her body aches ferociously as she wills herself to turn in the voice's direction, practically falling off the bed until he catches her form, letting her curl her head against his chest.

"I'm here, Laura. Can you hear me? I'm not going anywhere." He wraps an arm around her, cradling her head, and her heart finally settles, still anxious, but at least Derek is alive.

"Are you kidding me?! What the hell were you thinking?" Laura's voice echoes in the house, Alpha tenor intermingled with human outrage.

Stiles widens his eyes as he pivots on the spot and walks back into the kitchen, making a slashing motion across his throat to ward off Derek's approach. The latter is sipping on a coffee, classic Hale scowl a seemingly permanent fixture on his face.

"They're at it again," Stiles whispers dramatically.

It's only been a day but already Laura is livid with both Jennifer and Derek, incredulous that they would tamper with death so blatantly. At this point, they're all anxiously waiting for the full moon, unsure if Laura will react the same way as she once would.

"I was thinking it would help save your kid brother! Once upon a time you'd do anything for him." The words cut like ice coming from Jennifer's mouth, and Laura is stunned for a moment.

"And how exactly would that include letting my ex prey on him? Just because he didn't recognize this face instead of Julia's didn't give you the right to manipulate him into this." Her voice is lowered, a sign that she is struggling with control.

"You know full well that we're connected, Laura. It's how we met all those years ago."

"His unintentional blood sacrifice on the Nemeton does not equate some fucked up bond, and you know it. Yes, you became entangled in the Hale family, and yes, I once loved you. But I don't even recognize you anymore, Julia." She narrows her eyes in warning, flashing the red, before stalking outside.

"Are you kidding me?" She grumbles, and Derek and Stiles follow her out to see Deaton standing on the porch. He gives an awkward little wave and Laura rolls her eyes.

Rather than addressing the man, she turns back to Derek, who backs up a few steps. He's been avoiding too much direct contact with her, a sister now in her body from eight years ago. Her mind may have caught up, but it's still strange seeing her like this.

"Did you call him?" It's a direct question, and she doesn't try to add any softness to it like she's done so far with him.

"I just figured - he knows a lot, okay? Mom trusted him, but she never even knew Jennifer. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Stiles watches the siblings from the side, never having seen Derek quite like this. He defers to Laura, which makes sense, but he's also talking to her like he thinks she'll crack, almost like he's afraid of her. He knows it makes sense, what with Peter's manipulation to bring himself back to life. Still, though, this isn't the Derek Stiles thought he knew or remembered.

"I'm fine," Laura grumbles. "Yes, I was dead, and no, I still don't want to see our psychotic uncle who killed me. I may be in younger me's body but I'm fine."

"Yeah, you are," Stiles chimes in, lopsided smirk on his face. Laura just rolls her eyes in response and shakes her head before stepping off the porch.

"I need a little alone time, okay? I'll be back, I promise." She looks to Derek at this and Stiles can feel the way he relaxes at the reassurance. "I just need to breathe by myself for a bit."

Derek and Stiles both nod as she walks on, seeing her give Deaton a small smile and squeeze his hand before shifting into a wolf mid-run and disappearing into the preserve.

#*fics #that haunting tenderness #laura hale #staura #dallison

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horanghaechan · 5 years ago

Text

Wicked Games (Johnny) pt.1

pairing: Demon!Johnny x Dancer!You (female character)

word count: around 9k

synopsis: Oh, the things you do for money... NCT had a reputation: filthy rich and handsome. Their parties were known to be god tier and they used to pay extremely well to have girls dancing in them. However, when some weird rumours start to spread, all your colleagues backed out... But not you.

Inspired by Wicked Games - The Weeknd.

(Part 2/final here)

[a/n]: i actually had a side-blog once and posted it there but i got author’s block and deleted everything. anyway, i’m rather proud of this scenario so i decided to post it again lol ~ also, english is not my first language so any grammar/etc mistake please tell me!

Let me see you dance I love to watch you dance Take you down another level Get you dancing with the Devil Take a shot of this But I'm warning you I'm on that shit that you can't smell, baby So, put down your perfume (…) Listen, ma, I'll give you all of me Give me all of it, I need all of it to myself

Youngho opened the door to the main room and smiled. It wasn't the first time that everything went wrong, and probably wouldn't be the last. He pushed a wooden stool to the side and walked to Yuta, wondering exactly what had happened.

“The rumours about us are getting more and more frequent.”

“Humans.” He snorted. “And this is preventing the party from happening, I suppose?!”

“The strippers don’t want to come... I mean, except for one.”

“Oh.” Youngho smiled. “Why?”

“It seems that she doesn't believe in God, therefore, doesn't believe in us.” Yuta made a gesture with his hand, pointing to them. “Fortunately, she said she has four more friends that are willing to come, but we're going to have six less dancers.”

“Fuck it, bro. That's more than enough. We promised strippers, didn’t we?”

“You're right.” He nodded. “Well, I will report to Taeyong that we can still host the party.”

●●●

After receiving confirmation from her boss, Y/N entered the van with her friends. She didn't understand why the other girls had dropped out at the last minute… She would never do it, the payment was just too good to ignore. However, she was kinda happy that they did, because now she could receive their money instead.

“You know what they say about there, don't you?” Laura wondered.

“That it is a huge house full of billionaire, drop-dead gorgeous men.” She lifted an eyebrow.

“No, silly. About it being haunted!”

“Nonsense.” Y/N shook her hand. “This only exists for those who believe in it.”

“But a friend of mine was at a party there and said he saw some weird stuff...”

“Your friend was probably drugged and had a ‘bad trip’. Get over it, Lau.”

“You are so sceptical that it drives me crazy, Y/N!” Laura rolled her eyes.

“And you're too deluded, but that doesn't mean I lose my patience every time.”

Despite being best friends, Y/N found it hard sometimes to live with someone like Laura. You could hold her hand and say ‘Lau, the sky is black, actually. However, because of a curse, we are forced to believe it is blue.’, and the girl would (probably, 70% of chance) believe it. She was very naïve for 25-years-old woman; which made it all extremely worrying. 25-year-old girls were not so innocent. Y/N was 23 and she knew more than enough.

“How's uni, Y/N?” Inez, another friend of them, changed topics in order to calm down the mood.

“Good, as far as the last semester can be. And yours?”

“Dentistry is wonderful, I couldn't be more pleased!”

“You can ask me too, Inez.” Pelinsu, the youngest of the group, raised her hand as if to show she was there. “In fact, I'm going to tell you anyway.”

“Nobody is interested to know how things in the college prep course are.” Inez mocked, making girls laugh. “When are you going to quit it?”

“Even if I need to stay there for 15 years, I won’t give up.” Pelinsu sighed. “It’s my dream to become a doctor.”

“You can do it, dear.” Laura tried to cheer her up.

The way to the mansion where they would dance was filled with laughs and loud conversation. The four of them meeting and spending time together was rare, because they all had busy lives. It was a miracle that they all had a “free” day and could work together.

The house was located at the top of a hill. Y/N was amazed at the view, lots of green trees and abundant nature. It was always so healing and special to be at places like that. Looking through the window to the road behind, she didn't notice her friends getting off the car and greeting a group of guys at the mansion’s gates.

“Excuse me?” An unknown voice brought her back to the present. She turned to where she thought the voice came from, and felt a shock through her spine. She had seen beautiful men before, but... That was different. He was different. With dark hair, a beautiful nose, puffy lips and the sharpest of the gazes, he emitted a mysterious and charming aura. She couldn’t stop staring at him; it was like she was hypnotised. Oh, boy, that was a dangerous thing to do.

Y/N didn’t fuck with business.

Literally.

“Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I got distracted.”

“No problem.” He smiled and she swore the sun shone stronger. ”Your friends are already inside the house. You must be…?” Stretching his hand, the handsome man offered help so she could come off the van. Well, in addition to his killing looks, he was a gentleman.

Dangerous. Extremely dangerous.

“Y/N. Just Y/N.” She responded lethargic, accepting his hand. Despite the typically hot weather of summer, the man was cold. She felt a sudden dizziness, but decided to believe it was because she spent a lot of time sat down. “Mr. Totti said that if we stay until the end, we can get the other strippers payment. Is this true? Because if it is, I need to talk to the girls so we can make shifts and not get too tired.” Y/N stared at the mansion, looking up and smiling. “What a beautiful structure.”

“I agree.” Youngho replied. “I'm Seo Youngho, by the way. But everyone calls me ‘Johnny’.”

“Johnny?” Y/N questioned, and he gifted her a small smirked.

What a beautiful structure, indeed.

Tall and handsome. Just like a fucking castle.

“It seems easier to remember.” He shrugged. “Anyway, what Totti said is true. But, I don't think you girls need to work until the end; after all, a lot of people are going to be so drunk they will barely notice what is happening. We can set an ending hour, if you want.”

“Of course. How late, then?”

“3:30AM?” He smiled again, mesmerising.

“3:30AM.” She nodded. “To where should I go now, sir?”

“Go up the stairs and turn right, it's the first door.”

“Thank you, Johnny.” Y/N gave him a small bow, smiling, and rushed into the house.

“You’re welcome, Just Y/N.” Johnny sighed, strangely relaxed.

The house was decorated like an oddly but good mix of Greek and Iberian palaces. Y/N liked it, because the fusion made her have another perception of both styles. When she arrived at the floor that Youngho told her, Y/N got surprised as she looked out in one of the large windows of the hall: near the end of the huge garden, she found another road, but it disappeared into the forest. Were they that high?

“How tall is this mountain?” She asked while entering the room.

“Y/N! Why?” Inez dropped her makeup bag in one of the dressing tables.

“I saw a road behind the garden and it ends in the woods. I thought there was only one way to get up here, but I guess I was wrong.” She shrugged. “I talked to Youngho and he said that if we work until 3:30AM, we win the payment of the other girls.”

“I could never be as thirsty for money as you, Y/N.” Lin laughed. “I’m up for it, though.”

“Do I need to answer?” Inez smiled with satisfaction, doing an “ok” sign.

“I need this money.” Laura agreed. “How is this going to work, then? Do we do shifts?”

“I think it’s easier that way, because later we will be tired and then we won’t have much energy to dance correctly.” Y/N opened her backpack. “Who wants to be the first?”

Doyoung grimaced upon hearing the girls’ laughter. He didn't like noisy humans, but he couldn't deny that they were very beautiful ladies, so it made up for the mess. At least Y/N and her friends were not afraid of them and crying nonstop.

“Are you the bodyguard of the group?” Youngho smirked when he found Doyoung in front of the room’s door. “I didn't know we had hired one.”

“Go to hell, Johnny.” Doyoung rolled his eyes. “I'm here to make sure that no one will escape.”

“Hell?” Youngho laughed quietly. “They are being paid – a good amount and above average, to dance. Why would they run away?”

“The rumours...”

“Get over these rumours, Doyoung.” Youngho shook his hand. “There’s nothing that a good party and a few drinks won’t make them forget.”

“Taeyong will be mad if we do this again.”

“Taeyong gets mad about everything.” The tallest one shrugged. “And between losing his way of life here or being mad for some minutes, I guess he'd rather be pissed.”

“Your arrogance never ceases to surprise me.”

“No wonder I died because of it.” He laughed. “I'm going to talk to Yuta.”

“Wait.” Doyoung held his arm. “You have noticed Y/N, haven’t you?”

“How could I not? I almost went blind.”

“It's been quite a while since we've seen such a light.” Doyoung crossed his arms. “It's going to be an interesting night. Do you think Taeyong have seen it too?”

“I don't know if they met, but I assume he already knows. The energy in the house is weird.”

“Good. We have everything settled to go wrong.” Doyoung smiled excitedly.

Giving one of the most exclusive parties of the city was an easy task, and in them, finding people willing to sell their souls was easier. Renewing their strengths on the sins of others resulted in a common way for demons to remain in their human form, but finding the right sin to catch was a bit complicated. Youngho used to search for drug dealers and criminals, but he was interested in something much better right now: corrupt a being of light. He had heard two or three stories of demons who corrupted beings of light and it looked extremely tempting. It was a divine blessing (no matter from which “side” it was coming) that Y/N had crossed his path. The fact that she did not believe in God or Demons was just a bonus.

When Johnny came down, already dressed up for the party, he found the four girls working on their stages.

“Ladies, you look all delightful.” He smiled charmingly. “If you want to have a drink before we get started, just to relax, don’t hesitated to ask.”

“It would be wonderful.” The tallest of them, whose name was Inez, smiled.

“Thanks, but I don't drink before working.” Y/N dismissed it with a hand gesture.

“Water, then?”

“I don't want anything for now, thank you.” She went back to testing the pole dance, ignoring him. Johnny could smell the excitement pouring from her, but he didn't know exactly for which reason.

Having to attend to guests and strike small conversation with some “friends”, Youngho forgot about his smalls problems. He spent a big part of the night overseeing everything from afar and keeping the house in order, so Taeyong wouldn’t snap.

Around 2 A.M., many people were hammered, but not enough for him to try buying their souls. Youngho had just let Yuta in charge of the drinks when the lights shone in flashes, bringing the attention to the main stage. Y/N stood up in the middle of it, wearing a Burlesque style burgundy set, looking as beautiful as an angel could. Extremely tempting and untouchable. He was sure that Lilith would’ve wept in pride if she saw her.

A very calm melody began to play and she moved within the rhythm. Y/N was keen on showing how well she danced, how good she could twirl around and seduce. The audience made a sound of surprise as she snapped an unseen whip, and used it up on her body, snapping again close to her leg, giving the illusion that she had whipped it in herself. Youngho approached the stage, feeling the need to appreciate it from a closer place. She knelt on the floor – a submissive pose that used to drive men crazy –, then crawled to the edge of the it, letting everyone see the outline of her breasts. Youngho giggled despite the discomfort in his trousers. He was a sexual being, he had no doubt about it, but he had never felt so horny about a stripper. Y/N just needed to keep up with those daring moves and pin-up style that he would consider finding someone to have sex with as soon as the show ended... And he hoped she was willing to play that role.

“This girl dances very well.” One guy commented near him.

“At the moment, I really want to use that whip and erase her overbearing smirk.” The other replied. Youngho raised an eyebrow, smiling.

“She has a boyfriend.” Johnny couldn’t help himself from replying.

“Well, what an imbecile boyfriend she found, then. I wouldn’t let my girl do it!”

“You see, I’m sure he doesn’t even know she's a stripper.” The first guy laughed. “Those girls with these innocent faces are the most dangerous. He probably thinks she's sleeping now.”

“In fact he knows she's a stripper, he even encourages her to do so.” Youngho felt his stomach clench in disgust. He hated mortals, that was undeniable, but he liked women. It was no doubt that the world’s Lord and Saviour came from one of them. “What is beautiful was meant to be seen.”

“Even so! He's giving his woman in a tray for other guys.”

“I’m really confident in myself.” He smiled as he noticed their eyes widening.

“Good God, we didn’t know! Really, we’re sorry for saying that!” The one that wanted to whip Y/N wilted. Youngho wanted to laugh, but he had to keep his pose.

“Relax, you were not the first ones.” He shrugged, holding back the laughter.

Another song started and Y/N approached the pole dance. Youngho stopped caring about the audience and focused on the girl who passed a glorious leg by the pole. He caught a sigh as she turned around and paused with her butt facing the public. Youngho thought about several things, especially spanking and biting. The thought intensified as soon as they exchanged a glance by mistake. She was probably looking atound at people and her gaze fell on him... Not that he was complaining; he could feel how she had changed minimally when they faced each other. Johnny licked his lips and Y/N felt a pang in her heart.

She did her best to keep the dance level professional, but with every twirl or choreography move, Y/N knew Youngho was watching her and his attention was simply too good to ignore.

After returning to the room and showering, Y/N was ready to call her friends and leave. She just needed to get the money from... Youngho. She let out an unrecognisable sigh, something between resignation and debauchery. Of course, she would have to talk to him after their little… Thing. Armed with her finest femme fatale pose, she opened the door.

But Youngho was expecting her first.

“Just Y/N.” He smiled politely.

“Johnny.” She squeezed her hands, for she had nowhere to put them but the pocket of her shorts... And that would be weird. “I was going to look for you.”

“And I was expecting you to do so.”

“Uh... About the payment...” Y/N cleared her throat uncomfortably.

“Can we discuss this in my office?”

“Yes, of course. Wherever you feel better with.” She took a deep breath.

“Your performance was wonderful; I have heard many compliments.” Feeling that Y/N was tense, Youngho chose to take it easy. Her light was so tempting, it looked so delicious, that he could not afford to make a mistake and lose it.

“Thanks.” Y/N forced a smile.

The two of them went up to the third floor of the mansion, where Youngho had his office and bedroom. Y/N was surprised by the elegance of the place, because she did not expect men to be organised and to have good sense at that age... Well, she did not know how old he was, but it should not be more than mid-twenties?!

“Please sit down.” Youngho pointed to a leather chair in front of his mahogany table.

“Thanks.” She swallowed hard. It seemed strange and wrong to be there.

“How about we drink something?” He suggested. “Liquor? Whiskey? Vodka?”

“I don’t drink alcohol, Youngho.” Y/N shook her head. “But a glass of water would be great.”

Youngho smiled. Since she did not drink, it would be difficult to make her feel relaxed, but he wouldn’t give up. Opportunities of that magnitude appeared only a few times in his... Life? Death? Existence?

“Well, I wanted to know if you'd prefer cash or...” Giving her the water she asked for, Youngho sat down in front of her.

“Whatever is easier for you, sir.” Y/N shrugged.

His eyes flashed mischievously.

Sir.

It was cute, though. Being near him made her aura shine brighter and it kept alluring him. If only he could drug her… It wasn’t playing fair, surely, but when did demons play fair, to begin with?!

“So, here it its.” Johnny stood up, opening a small door in one of the cabinets and taking a faux leather handbag from inside it. “Here’s all the payment, as if we had ten girls in total. You can share with your friends the way you want.”

“Oh, alright. Thank you so much, sir.”

“Drop that ‘Sir’ thing, princess. I’m way too young for it and it’s way too sexual for me.” He smirked, sitting next to her. “Wanna count?”

“Yeah, that’d be reasonable.” She opened the handbag and her fingers grazed against his skin for just a tiny second, but she felt the same dizziness and coldness.

They counted together, just so she could make sure she was receiving everything. Johnny noticed how interested Y/N was in money, and started plotting. Maybe he could bribe her into being corrupted? Maybe he could pay her to have sex with him (which would make him twice as happy)? Maybe he could use money to convince her to commit a sin or something? However, as soon as she finished putting the cash back, she stood up.

“Thank you again, Youngho. It was a pleasure dancing here.”

“I assure you we feel the same.”

“Good.” She cleared her throat. “Goodbye, then. Have a great… Dawn, I guess.”

“Can you spare me a minute, please?”

When Y/N looked at him, she knew what he was going to say. She received the same offer a thousand times. It used to be offensive, but now she was alright with it. What pissed her off, though, was that she was tempted to accept it this time. He was different from the other guys. He had charms, smooth talking voice, those pouty lips and silky hair. Youngho was broad and tall, making her wonder how sexy it’d be if he caged her in, occupying all the space between them. His eyes had a amber glow she didn’t notice before, looking like hot cognac, and her mouth dried. It’s been years since she last drank alcohol, and brandy was her favourite beverage.

She was thirsty for cognac.

Or was it for Seo Youngho?

“Yes, sir.” She replied automatically.

“There you go again.” He smirked, but it had a pinch of humour in it. As if he thought she was, somehow, cute. “Well, Y/N, I’ll be really blunt since I hate tiptoeing around things.”

“Good, because I hate it too.” She thanked her amazing self-control because her feet stood their ground, not shaking with the anticipated offer.

“Do you have a ride back home, right?”

“Yes, I do. We all do, actually.” Y/N frowned.

“What about a place to put all this money?”

“Yes, Youngho, I do.”

“And a boyfriend? Do you have one?”

She couldn’t believe it at first, but then she grinned.

“Smooth as fuck, sir.” Y/N felt goosebumps all over her skin. “But no, I don’t have one yet.”

“Yet?”

“It’s not that I’m looking around, but one may come eventually, don’t you think?”

“I’m surprised he didn’t arrive sooner.” Youngho blinked, his eyes shining even more. “But it makes things easier for me. Would you like to hang out any time? Maybe have dinner…”

Y/N gulped, a bit shocked. She hoped he’d be like “I can pay you around 3k, so maybe you can suck my dick and let me fuck you?!”, because that’s what she used to hear from the guys that wanted to sleep with her. Being a stripper, sometimes and for some people, meant she was also a prostitute. It was “common knowledge”, even though it was wrong. But at least Johnny seemed interested in having dinner with her first.

That was too dangerous.

“Sorry, Youngho, but I don’t fuck business.”

To her surprise, he laughed. A relaxed, full of humour and sweet sound. Nothing erotic nor offensive. He laughed as if she really told him a good joke.

“You don’t accept drinks, don’t accept dinner offers… Then you don’t fuck business. What do you do, Y/N?” Johnny crossed his legs. His trousers were thick against his thighs, she noticed. Oh, it was torture to acknowledge his strong muscles since she wasn’t able to sit on them.

“I accept payments and pretend I have some sort of power over men.” Y/N smiled. “Excuse me, then, Youngho. The girls might be tired and wanting to go home.”

“I’ll see you again, Y/N.” He said.

“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugged, opening the door.

“It wasn’t a suggestion, princess.”

Y/N swore she’d never forget the diabolic shine he had in his eyes.

��●●

And she never did.

During two whole months, Y/N felt as if Johnny was observing her, even though it was impossible. They never met after the party. Not even once. No one talked about him either. Totti had five more jobs for her, in exclusive parties, but no Seo Youngho in them.

However, every time she arrived in university it was as if someone was following her. When she went home, until she locked up her door, she felt eyes on her. When she was sleeping, she had glimpses of those golden eyes although Johnny had nothing to do with her dreams. Every once in a while, she felt the coldness of his skin.

He was slowly driving her crazy.

On that specific Wednesday, Y/N had had the worse of days. First of all, her teacher made her re-do her paper because she didn’t used the theory she (her teacher) wanted. Then, her job was shit since one of the new interns fucked up a project and she had to clean up their mess. So, thinking that her evening would end better, Y/N had the worst part: her tennis coach cancelled the class because his wife was giving birth.

Capital!

No good grades. No productive day on her job. No “stress-relieving” sports night.

It was indeed amazing.

To top everything, she received a call from Totti when she had just arrived home. Sad days like that reminded her of the only antidote to sadness: Arabic food from the Lebanese food-truck two blocks away from her building. One of her favourite cuisines was the Arabic one, and she was the luckiest girl ever when she found out about that food-truck.

“Hello Kashir!” Y/N smiled when she saw the middle-aged man. “Today I’m exceptionally hungry, so let’s make it a huge order: one large Lebanese beef schawarma, fattoush and baba ghanoush dip, please. Also, I want two attayefs with extra cream.”

“Wow, you’re really hungry. Two desserts in one night?!”

“Attayefs are my weak spot, Kashir.” She shrugged.

“Alright, little lamb.” He smiled. “It’ll be ready in a minute.”

Y/N sat down to wait for the food, and while at it, she checked up her Instagram. Lin had mentioned her in a picture of a celebrity they liked. When Y/N opened it, she decided she was actually overrated. Her smile seemed fake, her eyes had no expression and the way her arms were wrapped around Seo Youngho only made her look like an attention whore.

She closed her phone as soon as she zoomed in his face.

Those eyes – kinda gold even in pictures – had that hint of cognac that drove her mad. How was that possible?! Y/N never met anyone with eyes like his.

He said that they’d see each other again, but turns out he had other things to do.

Or girls…

“The incredible Johnny Seo.” Y/N mocked the actress’ subtitle. “What’s so incredible about him tho? Being good-looking is nothing nowadays.” She scoffed.

Oh, for fuck sake! She was getting jealous over him!

Could the day get any worse?

“You smell like Arabic food.” Totti smiled.

“Yeah, I ate some for dinner.”

“Good, so you’re happy.”

“Yeah, Totti, I am. But I have this feeling that my happiness won’t last…”

“Nah, don’t say that.” He waved a hand. “The thing is: I got this huge, huge deal.” He waved again, stressing how ‘huge’ it was. “And they want you.”

“They?”

“Actually, him. But, of course, I told him that it didn’t mean you’ll sleep with him. Also, that if he makes you uncomfortable you’re free to leave without finishing your performance. And, if he touches you without your consent, he’ll have to pay twice the price.”

“But who is he?”

“This I can’t tell you, it’s part of the contract. However, we can call him ‘Devil’.”

“Oh, fuck, Totti.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re really selling me to someone I don’t even know?! What makes you think I’ll accept doing it?”

“I’m not selling you, Y/N! You know I’d never let you go to some creepy dude! You’re one of my golden girls, for fuck sake! What do you take me for?!” He frowned, offended.

“The thing is: I have no idea who the fuck ‘Devil’ is.” She mocked the nickname. “And I have to re-do a fucking paper because my teacher is a cunt. Literally. Also, Janet, this new intern, fucked up a building renovation and I had to clean up her mess the entire evening. I’m so exhausted I can’t even think about dancing to some unknown weird guy.”

“Y/N, Jesus Christ, he’s willing to pay 14k for you. Can you fucking imagine?! 14k just for you to wiggle around and whip him in the thigh.” Totti almost screamed. “I mean, 14k is what you’re gonna receive after I take my part.”

Her eyes grew at the payment.

“14,000 pounds? You swear?!”

“On my mom’s life. 14k, girl!”

“W-what the fuck.” She was shocked.

No one ever offered so much money to have her. No one ever seemed interested in only having a private dance for 14k. If this guy wasn’t crazy, he was obsessed about her.

“I’m in.” She gulped, replying as fast as possible. She couldn’t back out when so much money was on line. The things she could do with that… The places she could go! “I’m so in.”

“Oh, girl, when money talks…” Totti smirked. “Get ready for Friday, 9P.M. I’ll get a car to take you there. Don’t worry, it’s in a hotel.”

“People can still get murdered in hotels, Totti.”

“Yeah, but not you.” He winked. “Relax, really. He’s a VIP member of my club and he’s extremely respectful towards women. If anything bad happen, he knows I’ll have his head.”

“Good; it’s good that you pretend to care with so much confidence.” She joked, but her heart was beating fast. She’d definitely tell the girls about it, so they could just be aware.

●●●

Y/N finished her second cognac glass, thriving on the hot and sweet syrup. She paid the barman and walked to the lobby again. Breathing in and out, slowly, she gathered up enough courage to go to the hotel room her “guest” was in. Pressing the 24th button, the last floor, she waited for the elevator to arrive in there.

The 2402 room had its door a bit open, an invitation to her just walk there, without knocking. Her stomach flipped with anxiety, since she had no idea with whom she’d deal with. It was moments like those that she wished she had faith to lean on and ask for protection, since she was afraid. However, her religion was money and she’d get down on her knees and do whatever it wanted. Y/N blinked twice, taking a deep breath and stepping in.

It wasn’t a regular hotel room, she noticed. The wide space had glass windows that faced the city lights instead of walls. On the bed space, it had an amazing black brick wall; two medium yellow light lamps illuminated the silky grey bed sheets and gave it a sensual atmosphere. Next to one of the window-wall, a round dinner table was set. Y/N felt a strange comfort in being there… Minimalist decorations were her weak spot, honestly.

She left her purse on the dining table, amused that it really had food in it. Before she could restrain herself, one of her hands grabbed a strawberry.

The door made a locking sound.

Devil had arrived.

“Oh, you’re already here.”

She turned around only to find Seo Youngho dressed in a silky red suit, his black hair parted in the middle, his dark, cognac eyes shining in a low glow. And she knew, in that very specific moment, that they would sleep together.

“So it was you.”

“I said we’d see each other again.” Johnny smiled.

“I thought you were too busy being The Incredible Johnny Seo to remember me.”

He frowned for a small second, and then smirked – his gaze turning into something more predatory. So she saw the picture and she felt slightly jealous about it... Wow, his day just couldn’t get any better. He had it all schemed in his mind, prepared for a battle, but Y/N was making it so easy.

“And I thought you were too busy not fucking business to remember me.”

She scoffed.

“What does this even mean?!”

“This mean that I paid for a lap dance and I’m eager to have it.” He said, relaxed. “And, maybe, just maybe, if you behave like a good girl, we can dine together.”

Y/N scoffed again.

“You’re so arrogant, sir.”

“Yeah, they tell me this all the time.” Johnny pointed to the bed. “Should we do it there?”

“No, just grab a chair and… Ugh, put it anywhere.” Y/N gestured vaguely.

Deciding she’d make a mess of that arrogant face, Y/N prepared herself to the best lap dance she could give someone. Having created a new performance, she didn’t bring the whips and the Burlesque lingerie she used to wear; instead, she had this emerald velvet and lace set – with a triangle bralette, together only with a black velvet choker and her black heels. Turning on the song, Y/N sighed, getting rid of all her stress. It was time to get into character.

Youngho was sitting in the middle of the room, but somehow right in front of the bed. Playing the music, Y/N walked slowly towards him. Her eyes focused on his figure, taking in how gorgeous that man was. It was weird that she still couldn’t get over his beauty, it was like he awakened all her hidden lust… Like he was always trying to find a way to seduce her.

Touching the hem of her dress, Y/N started her performance. She could feel his eyes boring into her, totally interested by what she could offer. A mutual interest, if she was being honest. Y/N wanted to register every reaction he had, savour them, just like she did at his party. She twirled and wiggled, her butt always near his hands, provoking, tempting. Every time she would do a lap dance, Y/N reminded herself from what the pole dance teacher had once said: “Men don’t really care for clothing and how you take it off; all they want to see are your tits and �� if you’re feeling generous, your pussy –, ideally, as soon as possible”. That’s why she was always quite quick in getting undressed. Things in lingerie were absolutely more fun.

Pulling her dress straps aside, Y/N got rid of the fabric, revealing herself in her new undergarments. Youngho saw the velvet set and his mind went blank. Y/N was truly ethereal. She was an art piece and he wanted her locked in in Louvre, Prado or whatever museum she’d prefer. His hands ached to touch her smooth skin, to feel every piece of life she had to give. In that moment, he was grateful God created humans.

He licked his lips when she knelt in front of him, her small and warm hands touching his thighs while she leaned forward, obviously showing him her breasts.

“Oh.” Johnny wanted to curse, but his breath got caught in his throat. “It tickles.”

Y/N smirked like she was the personification of lust. Her aura changed slightly, only showing the effect Johnny had on her. He wanted to kiss her, eat her open. Then, without the inconvenience of clothes, she approached him again – a burst of courage running through her blood. She faced away from Youngho, her ass barely touching in his lap as she slowly pressed it into his knees. He swallowed hard, excitement jolting through his body. Due to their agreement, Johnny kept his hands out of equation, but he had to fight the urge to grab that pretentious butt. She slowly leaned back in, her shoulders touching his chest. Surprising him, Y/N turned around smoothly, opening her legs and bending down for less than a second, then walked away. Johnny felt one arm slowly gripping his shoulder, her nails scratching his suit slightly. She pulled his jacket off, leaving him in his black button-down shirt. Feeling his muscles, Y/N forgot for a moment what she was doing – hypnotised by his strong body. Caressing his chest down, she purred, loving how it felt on her fingers. Johnny bent his head backwards, his smooth hair grazing her skin and making Y/N shiver, bringing her back to reality. And that was when Youngho realised he had a lot of power over her, too. The look in her eyes were like pleads of pure lust. For a brief moment, she gave him a sweet, subtle grin, sitting on his lap with one leg at each side. He was shocked. Enjoying it, of course, but shocked.

What happened to the “No touch” rule?

“Is this part of the performance?” He heard a low chuckle. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Neither was I.” She confessed. “But I’m doing a new dance.” Her mouth was so close, her body so warm, her light… Oh, boy, her light!

Thinking fast, Youngho decided to put his evil nature to good use.

“I doubt you can ride my thigh for 4,000 pounds.” He breathed out, the hot air hitting her and making her shiver. “You’re already seated, mei fortuna.”

Y/N’s lip suddenly went dry, her body tensed up but she knew it was ready to do whatever he asked for. She wasn’t used to being aroused by just a single sentence, let it out by a strange petname she had no idea about the meaning. However, it somehow seemed so right. Besides, with more 4k, she would have 18k. That was a shit ton of money. That was perfect.

“Alright, sir.” Cocking her head to the side, she looked right into his eyes, needy for something.

The smug smile Johnny had on his face deserved to be on an art gallery. Having her saying “Sir” while she started to rock her pussy against his leg was just out of this world, Hell and Heaven. He felt – ironically – like a god. Y/N moaned lowly, her fingers digging into his shoulder while she looked down to his mouth, licking her lips again. That made him use his last trick:

“I dare you to kiss me for more 8,000 pounds.”

Her eyes sparkled in pure desire: for both kisses and money. Johnny had no doubt she’d do it… And he had no doubt it’d be glorious.

Y/N reached for his mouth eagerly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, her head bent down because of her position. They met in a sensual tongue dance, his hands grabbing her hips and making her move while he drank every sound from her. They were hungry for each other, but decided to keep things slow. She pulled at Johnny’s hair, moaning slightly from the softness – and from the pressure his thigh made on her clit –; the kiss became wet, more desperate. Johnny could feel her light starting to give in to his darkness, his vitality increasing by every second… And he never felt better.

Bribing her was his best idea.

His fingers hooked against the velvet bra, pulling it to the side and getting a better touch of her boobs. Youngho heard her purring again and felt her body heavy against his. Y/N was totally seduced by him. Devouring her, he started stroking her nipples, pinching it a bit and swallowing her moans. He sucked on her tongue, motioning what he would do with her neck, her beautiful breasts, and luckily – her pussy.

“Do you,” Johnny left her mouth for a second. “like it rough?”

She panted.

“Damn, I do.”

His lips met her neck while he unclasped her bra. Throwing it away, he left a trail of kisses from her base to her nipple, then coming up again.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t do it any other way.”

He seemed so confident that they’d end up having sex that Y/N also bought it. She could feel his muscles against her – while she rocked her hips in search of some relief, they were flexing as if they knew the right amount of hardness that could drive her crazy. One of Youngho’s hand came to grab her breast, the other one still helping her to keep on moving. He squeezed the round surface, then moved to her neck, wrapping around it but barely making any pressure. Moaning defeated, Y/N closed her eyes, her body numb. How did he guess her most secret kink?! Without warning, he clenched his fingers, chocking her slightly.

She trembled against his thigh, her nails sinking into his left arm and right shoulder. He mimicked the move, earning another shaky hip thrust. He put some more pressure, adoring how she quickened her pace – now truly hoping for an orgasm.

“Do you wanna cum?” He asked, cocky. Y/N shook her head. “Mhm… Don’t think so.” He stopped her hips. “First you gotta ask, mei fortuna. It’s not that easy, you know?”

Y/N opened her eyes, quite annoyed. She wanted to scoff and tell him to fuck off, but she knew her mouth would actually say ‘Fuck me, please’.

“Can I cum, Youngho?”

“Hm… That’s not really my name, princess. Try again.”

She growled, now more annoyed then before.

“Can I cum… What the fuck am I supposed to call you? Devil?”

He laughed at her angry spat.

“That’s also what they call me, even though it’s not what I’m looking forward hearing from you. Although I asked you not to, you’ve called me that a hundred times, if this may help.”

Y/N recalled the day they first met, a word surging on her mind on the spot.

“Can I cum, sir?”

Johnny’s smile would’ve made all city blind.

“Behave yourself and then I might let it happen.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he bounced his leg and she shut up.

“Move.” He said in a low voice.

Grinding back on him, Y/N noticed what made her so angry: that man was stupidly handsome, sexual and was about to make her cum in a short time. It wasn’t fair at all. Leaving his shoulders, her fingers started unbuttoning his shirt, each hole revealing his bare chest. Toned, slightly tanned and delicious. Without asking, Y/N leaned forward, kissing his neck while her hands went through the fabric to touch his skin. Youngho growled in pure satisfaction, and the sound was enough to push her to the edge. Swirling her tongue, she copied the motion with her hips, in a lethargic rhythm, just because she loved suffering.

“Choke me again, sir.” She whispered in his ear, lust filling her voice. “Please.”

Johnny’s hand caressed her whole body before stopping on her neck, wrapping it and squeezing it stronger than last time. Y/N’s eyes flew shut, a wave of pleasure washing through her as she felt herself come undone. Rocking her hips with more strength, Y/N rode her orgasm just thinking about riding Johnny for real. If he made her cum with only his thigh, she couldn’t imagine what he would do to her with his dick.

The went room silent for a brief second as the song ended.

“Are you done or is it part of the show?”

“I’m done.” She spoke, opening her eyes to find those devilish yellow orbits looking at her.

“Capital.” He kissed her hungrily.

Y/N took his shirt off, her mouth rough against his. She felt his strong back, grazing her fingers against every inch of skin she could touch. He was so cold even in a heated moment, and that was weird, but she only felt more aroused by him. Johnny touched her legs, putting them around his hips as the kiss came to an end.

“We’re going up. Hold tight.”

“Oh my God, it’s happening.” She whispered to herself, but due to their proximity, he heard.

“Well, I’ve never heard you calling God, I’m quite surprised you’re doing this while we sin.” He chuckled; having in mind he indulged her to commit two of the seven deadly sins.

“It’s my first time doing it, to be honest. But I have this strange feeling I’ll be calling Him a lot today.” She felt the mattress on her back. They were on the bed.

“Poor lad, having you calling him in such a dirty situation.”

“Then whom should I call? Satan?”

Johnny grinned. “That would be reasonable, but he might be quite busy, don’t you think? Why don’t you just call me, instead?”

“But shouldn’t I call you ‘Sir’? It’s weird to moan ‘Sir’.”

“I can’t decide whether you’re being sarcastic or really confused.”

“Maybe I was being sarcastic…” She smirked, her fingers touching his collarbones. “Your skin is so cold, sir. Why’s that?”

“Youngho.” He pecked her lips, pulling himself over her and hating the fact that she noticed how cold he was. It was time to capture her total attention. “Call me Youngho now.”

“So we’re dropping the ‘Sir’ thing, sir?” Y/N blinked innocently.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Maybe.”

Johnny smiled, getting up and sitting on the bed. He patted his lap and looked at her. “Come here, mei fortuna. You should’ve known better than this.”

“Do I get to sit on your lap again, sir?”

“No, princess, you get a good spanking session for being a brat.”

“Oh, so you like brat taming?” She laid down on him, her belly pressed against his knees.

“You got way too comfortable with me. Minutes ago you were trying to put out a femme fatale facade, now you’re all talkative and making fun of my kinks.” He chuckled, caressing her bum.

“You gave me an orgasm, sir. This actually means a lot to me.” Y/N held on the bed sheets, anxious for when he’d start the punishment.

“Hm… So now I mean something to you?! Did I go up a level? Am I no longer ‘business’?”

“You were never business, sir.”

One slap.

She jumped out of surprise, her butt aching and a scream caught up on her throat.

“If you lie again, I’ll have to double the slaps.”

“Jesus Christ, Youngho! You could at least have warned me you were starting!”

Johnny grinned with immense pleasure. Only Y/N would use his name along with Jesus in the same sentence. Yuta would laugh for days if he knew about it.

“Why? You want to count how many slaps you’ll get?!”

“No. Just so I can prepare myself.”

“Then it’s no fun, Y/N.” He slapped her again.

“Fuck.” She spat, still feeling it ache. How many slaps should she take until the pleasure arrived?

She got 12, in total. Around seven, Y/N’s eyes were filled with tears, but every time Johnny’s cold skin touched her, she could feel her pussy getting wet. Again. But when she thought he was over, Johnny pushed her panties to the side and slightly touched her, coating her juices on his fingers and stroking up and down. Y/N moaned softly, completely doomed.

Johnny started finger-fucking her, going in and out in a slow motion just to push her over the edge. His bulge was aching, but he knew better than to go to the main act right now. He loved taking things slow and he’d savour every piece of her… He’d savour every second of totally corrupting her and taking over her entirely. That delicious light, oh, he’d have it all. Y/N propped up on her knees, still being fingered by him, and started undoing his belt.

She palmed his hard member, pulling his trousers plus underwear down a bit to reveal it. Y/N chuckled, quite nervous but quite satisfied, and leaned downwards, licking the tip of his cock. Youngho stopped his movements and growled, making Y/N look up to find him watching her with hungry eyes. She used one hand to stroke all his length, moving it back and forth, just warming up. Knowing that sucking it or masturbating it weren’t everything, she used her free hand to pay extra care in his balls; she held one of them and squeezed it gently. Almost at the same second, Johnny pulled on her hair, forcing her head down. Y/N licked his shaft once again, increased the pressure on his testicle, swirling her tongue while she blinked fast, adjusting him in her mouth. His dominant side made an appearance again, because he started bobbing her head in his desired rhythm, hips thrusting in as she came down.

“You’re so eager to please, mei fortuna. I’m so lucky.” Johnny purred.

Y/N scratched his thighs at the sound of the petname, strangely flattered. She kept sucking him, concentrated in giving him enough space to fuck her mouth. A loud slap echoed in the room and she realised he had smacked her butt again. Stopping on track, she looked up at him.

“Keep going, Y/N.” He breathed out, looking tortured.

She left the bed, getting on her knees in front of him. That way, she had more stability to suck him off and he could control her better. Focusing on the tip, Y/N dragged her tongue around it, sucking slightly and making a “pop” sound, repeating it all over again until Johnny gave in, thrusting back on her mouth in a quick pace. He growled, hips fast and hands tightening around her hair, pushing her face down with every thrust. She gagged a bit, eyes tearing as he kept mouthfucking her, searching for his own release. Johnny was careful not to suffocate or hurt her in any way other than pleasurable, but when he felt his orgasm arrive, he couldn’t help but hold her head with a bit more strength than needed, pulling at her hair tighter.

He suddenly stopped, making Y/N frown due to the small pain in her scalp and abrupt pause. However, when she looked up, she didn’t know whether she was crazy or very enchanted. Youngho’s eyes were a shade brighter than amber, like liquid gold she so much loved on jewellery.

Jesus Christ, the man was stupidly handsome.

Without saying anything, she stood up, pushing her panties down and crawling back to his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Y/N kissed him eagerly. Mouths colliding in tongues and teeth, their hands grabbing any skin they found on the way. Youngho started to get familiar and enjoy those delicious sensations that any miserable touch of Y/N made him feel. The kiss began to slow down, but still extremely charged with lust. Her lips touched his neck, biting hard on the sensitive flesh as she lifted her hips to grind him. He could feel her warm body tensing, her heart beating too fast; and he decided he had dragged it for too long. Pushing her to the side so she could lay on the bed, Youngho took his trousers completely off, grabbing the condom before throwing the fabric somewhere in the room.

“On your back, ass up, face down.” He told her, his voice raspy.

Y/N got on all fours, anxious. She heard the plastic ripping and a soft grunt – probably because he was putting the condom on. Y/N closed her eyes, waiting. She felt a weight on the mattress and then Johnny’s cold skin. The tip of his fingers ghosted around her butt, brushing against her wet pussy and slipping in, while he gave her another slap. She only moaned, too tense to move or argue with him. He fingerfucked her for a brief moment, then positioned himself behind her, moaning a husky ‘Fuck’ when he entered her warmth. It was amazing how with Y/N he didn’t feel so cold, just more alive. She clenched around him, and Johnny felt her aura wave, as if it was fighting against something.

“Let me in.” He murmured, knowing she wouldn’t understand at all.

But Y/N did. Her body was hectic, her heart beating too fast for her liking. Her head felt heavy, her limbs going numb, and with every thrust it was as though Youngho wanted to crawl under her skin, as if he was colonising all her cells. As if he was taking everything from her. She was sweaty, tiring out, but she couldn’t stop. Youngho kept going rough, hitting all the right spots and taking her to a spiral of pleasure, one she would never forget, one she always only heard about, but never experienced. Even if his pace was slow, Y/N felt everything. It was intense, raw and lustful.

Devilish, indeed.

Another slap made her stiffen, this time grabbing some of the bed sheets to muffle her scream. He pulled on her hair, bringing her up so her back was touching his chest, and then she felt his teeth on her shoulder, biting hard, ready to mark her. Johnny’s pace got quicker, their bodies making noises when their flesh met. He loosen the grip on her hair completely, only to wrap his hand around her neck. Jesus Christ, she was about to convulse. Y/N gripped on his arm, trying to stay still while he restlessly thrust in her… Until she felt the pressure on her lungs. She could barely function, the choking way too much for her to ignore the pleasure. Y/N clenched again, on the verge of a powerful orgasm. Youngho started whispering in a different language, something a bit archaic and hard to decipher; it sounded like Latin, yet, kinda unique, and it had a strange effect – like a curse being said, hypnotising her. Her eyelids got heavy and she gave herself in, falling right into nirvana.

Y/N understood clearly the meaning of “Le petit mort”. She could feel her heart beating so fast while her whole body gave up shaking. Her body hit the mattress and she opened her eyes, feeling herself suffocate in a sweet but agonising sensation. Gasping for air, she found nothing but Johnny’s intense gaze on her, as if he was mesmerised with her struggle.

Then she realised… She was really dying.

●●●

A loud thud on the room made Yuta roll his eyes.

“You really can’t stop yourself from being noisy, can you?”

“I was trying hard, mate.” Lucas sighed. “Did she wake up?”

“Nothing yet. However, her pulse came back and her heart is beating.”

“It’s been three days already; her friends are going nuts.”

“Well, I’m doing my best here, but I honestly have no idea of what happened. Johnny won’t talk and she won’t wake up.” Yuta spat. “I’m not a healer of any kind.”

“It’s alright, let’s not worry too much. If corrupting beings of light were this problematic, no one would bother doing so. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t believe in us…”

Youngho entered the room before Lucas could finish his thought. Yuta and he had shifts on taking care of Y/N, since they were the most skilled on weird stuff. He never expected her to die, neither to revive. He expected nothing but getting more powerful and earning more fame for corrupting a soul like hers. Then again, she was like that: cold, slightly lifeless and ethereal.

“How’s babysitting?’

“Good now that it’s over.” Yuta stood up. “She didn’t wake up.”

“I figured it out.” He sighed. “Her friends are sleeping over again.”

“Yay, another night with humans.” Yuta was grumpy. “I have no idea what you told them, but it would help me a lot if you really tell me what the fuck happened on that night.”

“I’ve told you already, bro. We fucked, she collapsed then died.”

“This isn’t right, Johnny. Things weren’t supposed to happen like this.”

He shrugged, offering his friend a smug smile.

“What can I do? It already happened.”

“You should find a way to fix it! You’re now powerful enough to do so.”

“Oh, all saints and demons out there, please help me!” He rolled his eyes. “Yuta, I have no idea what the fuck happened to her, I can’t feel her soul anymore and I don’t know how she’s still alive.” He looked at the girl on his bed. “I don’t think I can help in this since I don’t understand it. Let’s wait for her to wake up, and then I can try to figure something out.”

Johnny sat down next to her, opening a book and totally ignoring Yuta. He was in the middle of a chapter when he heard something moving on the bed sheets. Looking to his side, Johnny got startled: Y/N was sitting, her back straight and her head turned to him. When she blinked, he couldn’t ignore the yellow glow on her eyes.

“Mei fortuna?” He tried. “Are you ok?”

“What the fuck happened?”

“Fuck, you sound like Yuta.” He sighed.

“Youngho, honestly…” Her eyes went fully yellow.

Then he realised.

Jesus Christ, he turned her into a demon.

#nct smut #johnny smut #nct scenarios #johnny scenarios #youngho smut #youngho scenarios

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sisterpiranha · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Snake Charming, ch. 8

Pairing: Lawrusso, Daniel Larusso/Amanda Larusso (at the start, I mean, they are engaged) Johnny/Shannon, mention of Johnny/others

Summary: Johnny is a stripper. Daniel has a bachelor party. Louie is an idiot.

MASTERLIST

(translations for the Spanish text at the end)

I've been struggling with this story a bit since I'm in two minds about how to end it. And this is a decision I should make before moving forward. So just to give myself time to mull this over, I wrote this chapter from Johnny's perspective and about his history. It's extra self-indulgent and has little to no dialogue. So I'm very sorry.The good news is that it can be skipped without affecting the reading of the rest of the story. So enjoy! (or not!)

As usual, not beta. And I didn't have time to edit this as much as I wanted, so there might be more mistakes than ever. And the tenses are all over the place.

CHAPTER 9

Johnny saw Daniel leave. He saw the door closing behind him and wondered if he would see him again. Probably not. Or if he did, it wouldn't be the same. He’d be married by then, maybe had kids of his own. And Johnny would be nothing but a stupid mistake of his past. He wondered what would happen if they were to meet in 15 years. Would Daniel avoid him? Pretend he didn’t exist? Or would he say hello like they were old friends and ask him how he had been, like he had never begged Johnny to stay the night with him or ask for a kiss goodbye? Would Johnny still care? He didn’t doubt that he would. He had carried Daniel in his heart for the past 17 years and he had little doubt that he’d be a weight pulling him down for 17 more.

Johnny felt tears running down his cheeks and rubbed them furiously with his hand. He was stronger than this, he had to be. It’s not like he hadn’t known it would end this way. From the moment he had seen Daniel’s big Bambi eyes staring at him in shock a few nights ago, he had known that whatever happened, he would have ended up broken-hearted.

Daniel had been his first crush, the one that had made him realise that he wasn’t as straight as he would like to be, the one that catalyzed everything. Even back then, he would think of what things would have been like if they were different. What if Johnny had had balls enough to break away from his friends and Kreese and extend an olive branch to Daniel? Would the boy have taken it? Would they have become friends? Johnny liked to imagine so.

But his olive branch had come too late. After the tournament, he’d wanted to go see the other boy to apologise, make amends, show him that he could be better than he had shown himself to be, but he always put it off. After the poisonous haze of Kreese had cleared from his mind and the bruises from his face and neck disappeared, shame had taken control. It was only six months later that he managed to gather enough courage to go find him.

But he was nowhere to be found. His old apartment was not occupied by someone else, and no one answered at Miyagi's place.

Johnny would come back to the old man's house and wait outside for a while in case he had missed them, in case he had caught them when they were away, but they had all been gone. And Daniel became a ghost alive and real only in Johnny’s memories.

The last time he had waited for him was after being thrown out of his house. Sid had caught wind of the kind of clubs Johnny had been frequenting. Between that and him quitting school, it had been the last straw. He didn’t remember much from that night, but amidst the pain from Sid’s punches and the sound of his mother crying still ringing in his ears, what he remembered the most was sitting on the hood of his car for hours and hours, drinking beer after beer and looking at every passerby in the hopes that he would recognise the big brown doe eyes that he craved. As if by just wishing, he could make Daniel materialise in front of him. He had slept in his car that night and had woken up the next day hangover and with the certainty that Daniel had left for good.

That had been the start of his downward spiral.

Much of his twenties, he had spent in a haze of alcohol, drugs and sex, making the worst decisions possible and trying very hard to purge every single memory of his last year of high school from his brain, and yet, countless times, waking up in bed with dark-haired men with big soft brown eyes and tan skin that looked nothing like Daniel in the harsh light of day.

There were many wake-up calls during that time: ending up in the hospital with an overdose or after getting beaten up, getting arrested for stealing and solicitation, almost being sent to prison. Without friends, without his family and without a sensei, he looked for the worst company he could find and let himself be dragged down with them.

One call, however, had changed it all.

He’d barely recognised Sid on the phone, but his words still struck him like a knife. His mother was ill. The kind of ill you didn't recover from. Sid was willing to let him come back as long as he promised to clean his act and leave his more "undesirable proclivities" in the past. Normally Johnny would have sent the man to go fuck himself, but the word ‘cancer’ was still rattling in his head. He wouldn’t abandon his mother again. So he accepted and, like the prodigal son, he went back to Encino and to the arms of a mother who was barely strong enough to hold him.

Things moved fast from there. He went to rehab and met Shannon, someone who was as broken as he was and who didn’t flinch whenever his mask showed its cracks. She had deserved better than him, but, at the time, they had clung to each other like a lifeline, hoping that the other was strong enough to save them both. But they hadn’t been strong at all and the pregnancy had ended up destroying what little love had been left between them.

When Laura died, Johnny’s heart broke once again and he went back to the only refuge he had known. The end of her mother’s life had almost put an end to his, but it didn’t. The moment his son had been placed in his arms had changed everything. Robby had saved his life. Shannon hadn’t been so lucky.

And Johnny remembered clearly the first time the boy had grasped his hand, his little hand looking tiny next to his. He remembered crying more than he had cried before, he cried for Shannon who would never know her son. For Laura who would have loved to be a grandmother. For the sacrifice, her mother had made just for him to throw his life away. For Robby and his bad luck of not being born to a better family. Even for Daniel who, years later, still haunted his memories.

Turning his life around had taken a lot, but he knew Robby was worth it. Many times, he was tempted to go to Sid and ask him for money or some help. But his mother’s death was still too fresh and his wound still too raw for him to take the humiliation. Without meaning to, Laura had taught him a lesson that he never managed to learn herself: money, and a mansion and a position were not worth having to live with the constant abuse of someone like his stepfather.

So Johnny rented an apartment and struck on his own. Things got difficult then. For one thing, he wasn’t someone people were eager to hire. He worked odd jobs as a handyman here and there. He occasionally got some money playing pull. And when things got really tight, he wasn’t above doing other things for money, too. He wasn’t proud of that, but he needed to provide for Robby and it’s not like he hadn’t done it before.

But that wasn't his only problem, he also knew very little about babies. In that sense, the Diaz family had been his salvation. They had moved to the building two months after he did, fleeing the violence of Carmen’s husband, who remained in Ecuador. And Carmen and Rosa had had no qualms to take him under their wing. Rosa would look after Robby when he had to work and teach Johnny how to take care of him. And he would take Carmen to work and accompany her wherever she didn’t feel safe going alone.

Working at a strip club was something he had never expected. He had met Lenny one morning when he was exercising. He had seen Johnny doing some katas in the park wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and struck a conversation with him. When he made an offer to come work for him, the blonde thought he was full of shit, but it turned out that it was a legitimate job offer and not just a way to get Johnny on his bed. Johnny knew next to nothing about stripping, other than he was meant to take his clothes, but the money was better than anything he could make on his own, so he was willing to learn. In that sense, karate had been a huge help. So when it came the time for him to create his stripping alter-ego, the decision had been obvious. And the jacket still had fitted like a glove.

Johnny would be lying if he said that, throughout this time, he had never thought of Daniel Larusso. Dating was hard with a baby. Even worse in his line of business. He’d tried a few times, but nothing had come of it, so eventually he just stopped trying, other than occasional one night stands. But his mind couldn’t help going back to Daniel. He imagined a thousand different little scenarios in which they would meet again. He didn’t even know if Daniel had come back to the Valley, but he imagined maybe they would bump into each other in a shop or the park. They��d get talking and maybe Johnny would ask him out for a coffee or a drink.

However, in all his fantasies, Johnny was never a stripper. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of it, necessarily. But Daniel had seen him at his peak, he had been a king back then living the life of a rich Encino kid. And now? He lived in a shit apartment and he made ends meet by taking his clothes so people could stuff money in his jockstrap. He couldn’t imagine Daniel’s face if he ever found out.

And sadly, he didn’t have to.

Seeing Daniel again, in the flesh, had shocked him more than he had let on. The man had been a construction of his imagination for so long that seeing him actually standing before him seemed unreal. Johnny felt like he had walked into a daydream where anything could be possible. That was the only explanation on why he had behaved the way he did, staying when he knew he should have left, and carrying something forward when the only possible outcome had been Daniel leaving. But there had been something in Daniel’s eyes that first night that called to Johnny. The eagerness with which he had followed him outside and sought after him the following day, and the obvious jealousy whenever Robby came up in conversation had given Johnny a strange hope that maybe he hadn’t been alone in his inability to put his old rival out of his mind.

And Johnny was even ashamed to recognise that, even though rationally he knew that Daniel was going to get married, there was a deep, hidden part of him that had also wished that maybe Daniel would end up not going through with the wedding. That the time they spent together had made him change his mind. And when he opened the door of his apartment to see him standing there, that stupid part of him roared in his chest. But just as soon as hope flared, it died down. Sure, Daniel was attracted to him and, under different circumstances, maybe things would have been different. But it was the money that made him come back, money that Johnny had forgotten all about. That and closure. Daniel wanted to move on with his life, put Johnny and everything else in the past and carry on with his new life.

The sound of the door opening pulled Johnny out of his thoughts and two excited toddlers threw themselves on Johnny at the screams of ‘dada!' and 'tío!”. Rosa, on the other hand, had only to look at his face to guess what had happened.

“Ay, Johnny,” the woman said getting closer and caressing his cheek. “¿Por qué no vienes a comer con nosotros? Te haré los plátanos que tanto te gustan.”

He nodded and followed the woman out of the apartment, carrying the giggling boys in his arms. Daniel had decided to move on with his life, and maybe it was time he did the same.

#cobra kai #lawrusso #Johnny Lawrence #daniel larusso #never had it been more obvious that I've spent the last fire years translating trashy romance novels than in this chapter

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drkoestersmithrpg · 4 years ago

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Victims

Locating Quentin in the house should have been easy, since Peter just had to follow the sound of the hysterical shouting, but the house was becoming a maze of impossible proportions. Dashing through the atrium to the parlor to the hall then into a gentleman’s parlor that Peter happened to know the house didn’t include... and now he knew he wasn’t in the South House anymore because this was a room full of windows facing the east, and that was in a building that only existed in his head.

Cursing he turned back and tried to find the house he had started out in… but this was no good, this was just the huge library that he and Matty liked to talk about, the library they were planning to build in the property when Peter inherited the property and had lots of money because Tony had made him rich. It would be a real library but also a place to display all the books that they had found in the underground chapel. But most importantly, they had planned bedrooms off to the side so that people could stay the night, like at a bed-and-breakfast. Only it would be a bed-and-library. It would be named after Abe Sexton, since most of the books there that they could display were his journals. Peter said that there would be a lot of people who had always dreamed of living in a library, but Matty had other ideas. Ideas about a place dedicated to people who, like Abe Sexton, weren’t interested in either men or women. It was an important part of Matty’s vision for the art colony that Peter wanted to create here someday. A way to make it clear that Peter’s art colony didn’t just accept gay people and straight people, but people who didn’t want to be either. “And polyamorous people, of course,” Matty would always add, with a wink. “The Posts accepted polyamorous people too.” Peter always had to argue with that. Yes, their art colony would accept all types, but he couldn’t pretend the Post family accepted polyamorous people the same way they accepted same-sex couples. It’s not like they could point to any house built for three people. Then Matty would counter that he, Peter and Tony were in a polyamourous relationship, and all of Tony’s Masters were too, since they all had human spouses, and Peter would have to concede.

But Peter didn’t want to be in the dream-library now! With a growl of frustration, Peter turned back again, determined to find his way through the dream of the South House. He found himself in the tiny dining room. He could hear Quentin shouting, nearby, but when he forced the doors open he only found himself standing in the atrium again, looking outside into the foreboding garden. A dark figure stood there, seven feet tall and holding out a becoming hand.

“Not now, amante,” Peter said softly. “That will have to wait until we’re alone. And there’s something wrong here, something I have to figure out.”

Turning around, Peter realized that there was another voice now, a woman’s voice. It was answering calmly, even as Quentin pleaded and shouted and begged and threatened.

“I can’t… please I can’t take this any more!” Quentin was saying, while the calm woman’s voice said something else.

Something that sounded like “not yet frightened.”

Peter head snapped up at the words. Suddenly he realized he had to stop struggling with the house. He closed his eyes and willed himself into the same room as Quentin.

“Hey hey hey!” he cried out, grabbing Quentin with both arms and using one hand to cover Quentin’s mouth as the man shouted himself hoarse. “We do not call Miss Foster a bitch! Laura, please,” Peter said over his shoulder at the pale woman kneeling on the floor behind them. “Can you just give us a moment?

“Quentin, listen to me,” Peter said as calmly as he could, holding the older man close. He was vaguely aware that he must have grown another two inches. He and Quentin were now the same height.

“The trick is to stop fighting it, Quentin. This is a nightmare, but that?” He gestured behind him. “That is not your nightmare. Look! Look at Laura,” he said, releasing Quentin with one arm and using it to point to the girl kneeling on the floor.

“I am not yet frightened,” the girl was saying, her voice gurling hideously through the slit in her throat.

“Yes, that’s very impressive, thank you Laura, but could you give us a minute? Quentin needs a break. Just… go bleed in the atrium for a while.

“Quentin listen to me, this woman isn’t pissed at you. You didn’t murder her. This… I know you don’t believe me, but this isn’t a ghost. This is not a haunted house. This is a memory of a very lovely house, and this…

“You’re seeing the last nightmare of Tom Dylan Post,” Peter said quietly, bringing Quentin’s head to his and stroking his hair. Quentin was in tears, his head resting on Peter’s shoulder as he explained.

“Listen… we told you this story at one of those horrible lockins you forced us to have. We told you the story of Tom Dylan. But what those other boys didnt know was… what we didn’t know was that Tom Dylan… he didn’t kill Laura because she jilted him. He killed Laura for practice.

“Listen to me... Tom Dylan had decided he wanted to be Jack the Ripper when he grew up. That’s why he was so obsessed with London. The family servant… that was the family’s familiar… he told Thomas Post, who decided the best thing to do was let Tom Dylan get it out of his system by killing pretend-women in the woods around their house. So every night that’s what Jr. did, he went out and stalked the familiar… that was the Tall Man you saw outside. The familiar would look like a young woman, and let Tom Dylan grab him and slit his throat. So that’s what Tom Dylan did… just killed the family familiar over and over again. For years. But then one day he finally he decided to do it to a real woman and... well, it didn’t go very well.”

“I am not yet frightened,” Laura intoned behind them.

“That’s right Larua, and you shouldn’t be,” Peter said, turning to her.

“Because she scratched the tar out of him, Quentin,” Peter said, turning back to the shivering man. “She fought so hard. She broke his hand and she gave him a swollen lip and a black eye. She really messed him up. All those pretend-women, he slit their throats and they just lay down quietly and died. He showed his knife to a real woman and the real woman fought back. So when it was over he came back here and killed himself, because he realized he wasn’t going to make a good Jack-the-Ripper after all.

“So he ordered the families familiar to kill him. He tried to lie to it, but that didn’t work. No magician can keep secrets from their familiar. Methuselah, he saw it all. And that…” He pointed at the woman on the floor with pride. “That is the last thing Tom Dylan saw while he died. And he died for hours. Hours of watching her repeat the last words she said to him when she was alive, over and over again.”

“I appreciate you explaining this all to me, Peter,” Quentin said in a shaky voice, wiping his face with one hand. “Now can you please explain to me how I’m supposed to hold a job down when I can’t sleep? I’m not surprised you have all this information, thanks, but it doesn’t matter – I just can’t keep going like this. Every time I start to work I… I don’t need you to tell me who killed who and why… I just need you to tell me that this isn’t real. Not that it matters, because I’m going to wake up at 4:00 am in the morning knowing that it happened again... I might as well go ahead and do what I was told… just drown myself in the lake in Tuller Hill forest…”

“Quentin?” Peter said, suddenly looking the man full in the face. “Quentin, who told you to drown yourself in a lake?”

“It’s not real,” Quentin said. Begged. “Tell me it’s not real.”

Peter stared at his pale face, gaping.

“Tell me it’s not real?”

“It is real,” Peter said, wondering. “That’s why it’s so different. This is very, very real. We’re both here in this dream together. I… I drove back from Cornell last night and right now I’m asleep in my bed in Devil’s Hollow.

“Quentin… where are you?”

---------

dunno why this wont let me copy the italics, which are important to me, anyway.

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criminal-lymindless · 6 years ago

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starker ft. the conjuring au 🏠

"Diabolical forces are formidable. These forces are eternal, and they exist today. The fairy tale is true. The devil exists. God exists. And for us, as people, our very destiny hinges upon which one we elect to follow."

// Part 2 //

During a particular morning, a reporter went to visit them, wanting to ask questions about the notorious room in the house where they kept objects related to the cases they had investigated so far.

Peter was hesitant about it; most of those people used to accuse them of quackery. However, Tony, on the other hand, had decided to give the reporter named Everett Ross a chance, willing to give him the opportunity to know more about their investigations.

Peter decided to stay in the living room while Tony led the man into their secret room, unlocking the door.

"We keep everything locked in here." He explained to the reporter and pushed the door, entering the place. "Feel free to look around. Just don't touch anything. Trust me. You don't want to be touching this stuffs --Unless your that desperate to die, then okay."

"Wow..." Everett looked around, he was clearly amazed by the things he saw there. "This is crazy..." The man commented. “So all these are taken from cases you've investigated?" He turned to look at Tony who nodded positively.

"That's right. Everything you see in here is either haunted, cursed or has been used in some kind of ritualistic practice." Tony clarified as he walked between the shelves. "Nothing is a toy." He added and watched Everett crouch down to look at a stuffed animal. "If I were you I wouldn't touch that."

Everett suddenly took a step back once hearing that and stood up, clearing his throat.

"Uh...If I may Mr. Stark, but Isn't it scary or doesn't it worry you to have all these items right in your home?" The reporter questioned.

"That's why a priest comes by once a month to bless the room." Stark explained. "It's safer for these things to stay in here than out there. Who knows what would happen if they did. Probably the end of the work." Tony chuckled a bit. Everett Ross nodded as he listened to Stark.

"So it's like keeping guns off the street then?" He said. "But why not throw everything in an incinerator? Destroy them?" The man asked curiously while taking notes, now standing in front of Tony.

"That would only destroy the vessel." Tony assured him. "Sometimes it's better to keep the genie in the bottle." He winked at him.

The reporter looked around once again after hearing that. He was a bit anxious and when he started talking again, Tony watched him carefully, eyed him up and down. He had an idea on what was making Everett nervous, and the REAL reason why the man came over to visit them.

Which is why he needed to act quick.

Tony clapped his hands together, giving the man a fake smiled as he signal him to follow him. "Already then, if you don't have anymore questions we can finally wrap this shit up--"

"Is the, uh, Annabelle doll here?" Everett interrupted Tony before he could even finished his sentence. The reported looked around for the familiar the doll everyone has talked about.

Shit.

Stark sighed and muttered a few curse words to himself. So much for acting quickly. He reluctantly pointed to another direction, "Right over there. But we don't have time for--" Everett ignored him and walked up to where they kept the doll.

Tony is really starting to consider this interview was a bad idea, and maybe Peter was actually right for once. He walk towards the reporter and the doll, where it was stored in a wood and glass case they had built for it.

Everett looked at the doll for a few moments before turning to look at Tony again. "You said she's a conduit?" He asked and began taking notes again.

Tony only hummed in response. He was getting really tired of this interview and needed to wrap this up already. They couldn't be this close to that doll, even if it was safe on that wooden glass case. Anything is possible.

"But what does that mean?" The reporter turned on his tape recorder this time.

"It means that a very powerful demonic has latched itself onto her." He told Ross as he looked at the doll for a second. Glaring his eyes into her empty one's.

"So when you guys investigate these hauntings, how do you stop them from latching onto you?"

Tony shrugged. "We have to take great precaution." He explained trying to remain calm.

"Is that what happened to Peter then?" The man then questioned.

This cause Tony to snap his neck at him, arching an eyebrow. His mood suddenly changed when he heard that. "...What about him?" Tony frowned. Everett seemed a bit nervous after seeing his reaction. He knew damn well he's stepping into some sensitive stuffs.

'Could be another reason why Ross came over after all.' Tony thought to himself, looking directly at Everett. 'Why would this guy need this information anyway? Couldn't he just fucking read in another newspaper?'

"Well, Father Strange told me that..."

Oh, that little fucker--

"That was different." Tony snapped. Not caring that this was being recorded. No one comes after his baby boy. Not even some fucking priest with some shitty weird name. Fuck Stephen. "What happened to Peter happened during an exorcism. Nothing else."

"And what's the difference?" Everett challenged back.

Tony was about to tell Everett to 'fuck off' and leave because he was being bothered by the intrusive questions, when he heard something coming from behind one of the shelves.

"Excuse me." He murmured before walking towards the place where the sound came from, sighing as he found the familiar face of a little puppy crouched behind the shelf, weaving his little tail.

"Dum-E, what the hell are you doing?" Tony sighed as he looked at the puppy he had adopted with Peter years ago. "You know better than snooping around here, darling? Did you touch anything?" Dum-E only barked in return.

"Alright, come on." Tony took Dum-E into his arms. "You can't go into this room, no matter what, remember?" He said and after making sure Dum-E would stay at the kitchen with Peter where he would watch him, before he went back to where Everett was.

"Alright Everett, listen the fuck up--"

*******

Somewhere else, a Family had just moved to Rhode Island after loosing their Jobs and home. They were both skeptical and dejected with this new change in their lives, however they were stil glad to have found a house at their current state, where they would move in with their five children. Even if the house was actually an dilapidated farmhouse.

The family was know as the Barton's. It included Clint and Laura Barton with their five children, Cooper, Lila, Nathaniel, and the twins Wanda and Pietro. The twins being the oldest and Nathaniel the youngest of the Five.

The Barton's didn't take long to fit in, each kid sharing a comfortable bedroom and the parents managing to keep the expenses with the money they have left while one of them look for a job. It was great. The Kids would go to school, Clint would continue to unpack or fix a bit on the house, Laura would make food while also do a bit of cleaning around, and Nathaniel would run around playing by himself until his siblings return from school.

Things were going incredibly well until unusual situations started happening in the house.

At first, it was just weird sounds that came from different parts of the house in the middle of the night, then, objects began to show up in different places without anyone touching them. Clocks would stop at exactly 3 am in the morning.

Everyone in the house was aware of this, but no one had spoken up about it yet. They all thought that they were probably suffering from mass hysteria because of stress. Which was quite possible.

However, it was not until one accident that made it impossible to ignore the situation. That one accident that made it clear that something was going on, and it was not because of mass hysteria, but something connected to the house and the weird things that were happening so far.

Funny how it happened the night Wanda woke up in the middle of the night after feeling someone grabbing one of her feet.

The be continued...

#starker #moodboard #peter parker x tony stark #spiderman x iron man #starker mooboard #au drabbles #idea dump #starker au #horror au #horror moodboard #ironspider #the conjuring au #starker fic #my edit #mcu #my post

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lethe-distillery-blog · 6 years ago

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Freedom To Love by LP Steinbeck

When prison ends, will life and love proceed?

Laura said her good-byes, her heart in her throat, and walked resolutely to her car. She could tell from the looks in their eyes before she left that they weren't sure what she should do, either. All except Johnny. His eyes spoke of yearning. They were, in fact, a mirror of her own heart. She yearned for him, and had for nearly a dozen years, though now doubts shadowed her thoughts. Insecurities had made a tight knot deep inside about his want of her, for how long would it last, as his life rapidly changed for the better? Her life had been on hold for the day, well, for the coming of THIS day, and so far it had been anti-climactic.

She tried to hold it together as she walked, willing her emotions down.

The gravel crunched behind her, and she knew he was following, and as he approached from the side, he reached out and took her hand.

"Laura..." his voice reached her as he stopped walking, still holding her hand, only a meter from the car, "Laura", he said again, quietly.

She looked at him. "I don't know what I am doing," she said.

Laura noticed Johnny's mother and stepfather, Jack, had gone inside.

She pulled her hand from Johnny's, opening the car door, and got into the driver's seat, but he held the door open, and crouched down next to her.

"Stay," he said.

His hand covered hers, caressing it, and he leaned in, and whispered,

' "I want to love you gently, and also fiercely. I want to snuggle in the sweat of our efforts, clinging tightly as our hearts become calmer, flesh flavored kisses as we regain our strength to love again..." '

Laura looked at him, wiping away tears as they streamed down her face. He was repeating words she had written to him, as she poured out her fantasies of their togetherness in letters to him, even before their first meeting.

He had been through a lot. Close to half his life had been spent in prison, having shot his mother's boyfriend because he continuously beat her. It was a case that had been used to set a precedent, and make an example by political forces, so his original sentence had been much longer. Now, here he was, free. There were no barriers between them, or rules, or guards, or time...here he was, wanting her.

"Stay," he said again, rubbing her arm, and the back of his other hand rubbed against the side of her thigh, the soft, thin fabric of her skirt allowing the pressure and warmth of his hand to send messages her body couldn't ignore.

"You didn't need to get a hotel room. You're welcome here."

Laura became acutely aware of the bulge in Johnny's pants, trying not to look too obvious, or too shocked. He gently laughed, and pulled her towards him, capturing her mouth in a hungry kiss.

"It's for you," he said, kissing her again, and she moaned, her heart thumping hard, and her mind racing.

The first letter between them had been when he was 27, about five years into his sentenced time, when she was 45, and she had needed his friendship as much as he had needed hers. She had sought to encourage him, then soon discovered a camaraderie with him that subdued the emptiness of widowhood, all in the aegis of their letters.

Johnny had not held back the truth about the reason for his incarceration. He had sincere remorse, for the price was steep to see his mother safe, and he regretted taking the man's life.

Laura had appreciated his candor, and in her own way, saw him as being his mother's hero.

Johnny's kisses were deeper, longer, slower, and he pulled Laura from the car to a standing position, burying his face next to her neck, breathing in her fragrance. Her hands and arms held him, rubbing over the strength of him, kissing the side of his face and neck. Barely a husky whisper, he told her he wanted her, and urged her to come inside the house, then continued to kiss.

"There's something I want to show you," she said, "in town."

Johnny pulled back, holding her upper arms, searching her eyes.

He saw the look in her eyes, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Would you accompany me to my hotel?" She asking, smiling coyly.

He pressed the center of his body slightly more to her own, "I will accompany you anywhere. Let's go."

He ran to the passenger side and was in buckling before she had even sat down. Laura's legs were trembling, and she focused on her breathing, yet it was somehow better when she saw his hand quiver, and felt his pulse as their hands intertwined before she buckled up. Johnny's lips found hers now, but they were gentler, and his right hand reached across to stroke her hair, hold her head to his. They kissed, and it was simply profound how comforting it was to be together. How long did it last? She opened her eyes, and he would kiss her again. Finally, this sweet game made her giggle, and he laughed, too. He cleared his throat.

"May I tell you something?"

She nodded, holding her breath.

"I'm nervous as hell", and he kissed her again, "I know how much this means to you", another kiss, "and I really want to show you how much you mean to me", longer kiss, "but it HAS been a long time, and I'm nervous."

Laura squeezed the hand she had been holding since they got in, and told him, "Kissing helps. I'm nervous, too, Johnny. Let's go to the hotel."

They released hands so she could drive, and she missed his touch immediately. He chuckled and shook his head, and she asked 'what?'

"I missed your hand in mine as soon as it was gone, that's all", he said.

She couldn't stop smiling.

On the drive, Johnny marveled at changes in the area since he had last been there, close to twenty years earlier. He was eager to be busy, happy there was plenty to do at Jack's ranch, yet curious to explore old haunts and have new adventures. He finally sighed, looking out the side window, shaking his head, and admitted he didn't know many people. He looked at Laura. "I know you, and a handful of family members, and you've been the one keeping in touch with me, making me feel like a real part of your life. Thank you for that. I can't believe you're here."

"Johnny, you are my close friend, and I love you. You don't have to thank me, because I'm just as grateful you didn't decide I had way too many issues to be worth your time."

"All I had was time, Laura... "

She smiled, trying not to cry anymore as she pulled in and parked close to the hotel's main entrance. Johnny nodded his head and smiled, "This is definitely an upgrade from where I was less than two days ago."

Without words, she locked the car, then they went through the lobby, smiling and waving at the two women working at the front desk. No sooner were they out of sight, when Johnny grabbed Laura, holding her tightly, silent sobs ripping through him as he held her, and she tried not to cry, failing this, but held him, too, as though their lives depended on it.

Laura comprehended these emotions were less about her, and more about finally being free, and not knowing if it was really alright to live now, without the weight of the past. That was part of what was special about Johnny, was he had consciously paid the price in memory and regret, and she hoped he was ready to move forward, now that he had his freedom.

She stroked his neck and back as they calmed, and they shared a long, desperate kiss, and another, before he looked at her, and said, "Okay".

She knew it was all he could say without breaking down again, and she held his hand as they took the elevator to the third floor, leading him past seven rooms before stopping to open theirs, flipping on the light as they walked into a small entryway. She stepped in front of Johnny and turned to face him, about to burst from excitement, and picked up something from the table adjacent to the door.

He looked at it. "A blindfold?...Kinky."

"NOooo, no, just put it on, okay? You are too tall for me to do it."

He put on the blindfold, smiling, and she took his hand, admonishing him not to peek, and stole a kiss as they both laughed, holding him for a few seconds before guiding him into the suite. Laura held both of his hands and squeezed them, then let go and told him he could remove the blindfold.

Johnny couldn't take it all in at once. Above him, in human made, though exquisite beauty, were delicate strands of miniature lights hung in shallow scallops across the ceiling, and with their white cords, they looked like stars, and here and there, one would twinkle more than the rest.

The lights made the ivory brocade fabrics of bed, sconce, and drapes glimmer, with burnished gold accents and rich mahogany wood accomplishing an atmosphere of deep luxury. The bar and stools also corresponded in the wood's elegance, with every glass, bottle, and mirror in attendance casting back reflections from the starry lights.

"Oh, Laura..." his mouth gaped, eyes widening as Laura pressed her phone screen, and an explosion of color lit up behind her.

A six foot tall Christmas tree stood in an apparent reading nook that overlooked the grounds, full of colorful lights and shiny, glorious ornaments. Fluffy garland seemed to glow from light reflecting in it, and Johnny took a couple steps towards it before looking at Laura and shaking his head, speechless, emotional. She went to him, holding him, and he faced the tree as they stood there silently for a long time. He finally sighed deeply, and said, "There's going to be hell to pay when my Mom finds out about this," then he laughed.

Laura cleared her throat, "Actually, we agreed that I could do Christmas if she could do birthdays..."

Then he saw it, many brilliantly wrapped presents under the tree, and he knew they were for him. He heard Laura ask him if he wanted to open them, and he did want to open them, and he also didn't want to wake up from this dream. Laura was saying it was okay if he wanted to relax awhile, and then open them. He nodded, and smiled at her. She brushed tears from his cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Johnny," she simply said, and when he tried to say it wasn't even Christmas, she quietly told him it would be Christmas every day now that he was home, and squeezed his arm reassuringly.

"There is something else," she told him as she led him to the corner of the suite that had shuttered doors, and she slid one back to reveal a large hot tub.

"How long has it been since you had a bubble bath?"

He began laughing. "Let's do it!"

Johnny pulled his shirt off, and they both laughed as she said,

"Wait, let me get the water in there!"

After removing his shoes, Johnny bent down to look more closely at his gifts under the tree. Laura watched him, unable to believe he was there, unable to stop smiling..."Why don't you open one? You want to, don't you?"

Instead of a package, Johnny picked up a Christmas stocking propped against the packages, brimming with both wrapped and unwrapped goodies. He snuck a side glance at Laura, and she nodded. He moved up to the settee, and pulled out bags of different smoked, salted, and maple roasted varieties of nuts, candies, dried fruits. He said it was making him hungry, and laughed. He shook a small package, then began opening each wrapped item. There were standard things like nail clippers, a gift card, another gift card, bubble bath (he smiled and handed it to Laura to use in their bath)...and a key chain, with a key. Johnny looked at the key and held it up, the question in his eyes. Laura smiled.

"I leased a house. I was going to get a hot tub there, and couldn't make it happen in time", she laughed. "so here we are, but we do have a house. You can visit, or live there, or the ranch, but I needed a place to write...and hopefully, to see you, too."

Laura blushed, and shrugged, smiling.

Johnny laughed and shook his head, "Wow...I love it. I mean, yes, thanks, all of that."

He stood up, unbuttoning his jeans, "Let's take that bath."

Johnny locked eyes with Laura as he opened the top button of his jeans, then stepped towards her, reaching out to grasp the tied bow of her wrap-around blouse. He tugged it gently.

"If I pull this, then it comes off, right?"

She swallowed, "There is one more small tie on the inside, and then, yes, I can slip it off easily."

He pulled the bow's end, and the soft fabric slid aside, uncovering one breast. Johnny pulled the miniature interior bow, and the blouse gaped open. Rather than grab at her, he gently removed the garment, hanging it on the valet stand adjacent to the tub. He held out his hand, and asked for her skirt. Laura pulled it up and off, and placed the waistband in his hand. Clips mounted on the wooden stand were perfect to hang the skirt, and then he turned to see her.

He began to say something, and she said, "Now you," and her voice was husky and low. Johnny nodded, and removed his jeans and socks, then underwear. Laura's heart thudded. The exercises he had done through the years had honed him into the epitome of masculinity.

"You're beautiful," she whispered.

"You are," he said,"and if you don't mind, I will watch you remove your garter belt and stockings from the tub. This is straight out of a fantasy, Laura."

He shook his head, laughing and smiling, and in the next few seconds, he was deep in the tub, watching her with hungry eyes.

Laura carefully opened the clips to release the first stocking, then perched on the bed's edge, and rolled the stocking down and removed it, taking her time. She stole a peek of Johnny, and he smiled and nodded.

She shoved down wishes that she were thinner, prettier, younger, and focused on her love for him, then released and rolled the other stocking. The champagne stretch lace garter belt came off easily, but Laura looked into Johnny's eyes as she slid her panties down and off, and was pleased to hear him moan.

He held his hands out, and she took his hand as she stepped into the tub and sat next to him, and for the first time ever, his hand caressed and cupped her breast.

"I want to hold you," he said.

He did hold her then, skin to skin, head against her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around him, and didn't let go.

It was deeper than passion, and Laura sunk into the tub, shifting so her arm cradled around his head as it now pressed against her chest, only barely above the water. Her lips pressed against his temple, then sniffed the fragrance of his hair, and his sweat, as the heated water swirled around them. As Johnny relaxed, so did she, feeling relieved, sleepy, happy.

After several minutes, he eased into sitting next to her, looking much the same as she felt, and said with a bashful smile,

"This is not what I thought we would be doing right now. I thought...we would be doing something else, and doing it a lot."

She took his hand, under the water, and squeezed it as she spoke,

"Holding one another...just us, no one else watching...I love it, Johnny. You're here, and visiting hours are over, and..."

He kissed her deeply, then softly, then told her he knew. She said,

"Let's have fun, and not be worried. Besides, I am sort of hungry, what about you?"

He agreed, and he was also hungry, so they spent a few more minutes in the tub, feeling less pressured. Each of them dunked under the water, and took advantage of the fluffy robes and slippers after drying. Laura went to cleanse her face, and when she returned, Johnny was looking in the bar area. He shook his head, and told her he didn't know what else they could eat but the snacks from the Christmas stocking.

"What about...pizza? Do you like pizza? There is a place I have ordered from, and it was delicious. We could go there, or have it delivered," she smiled, "and we could eat in our robes if we want to!"

Johnny's head moved back and forth, and incredulous grin on his face.

"Do you how many years it has been since I ordered a pizza? YES!"

After she ordered the food, Laura showed him that with a press of one button, mirrors rose up to divide the bar from the bedroom side, unrolled an upholstered panel door, and simultaneously slid the mirror at the other end into the wall, and lowered the mirrored wall across from the bedroom. It created the effect that the bedroom didn't exist beyond the bar, and revealed an opulent, yet comfortable living room, dining area, three stools at the bar side, desk and a full bathroom. There was a separate door into the hall, and balcony.

Johnny laughed, "Any more surprises?"

Laura picked up a small remote on an end table, and turned the sofa into a bed. The four loose cushions flopped to the floor, while the others were assimilated into the design.

"Damn," said Johnny, shaking his head.

Laura prepared drinks, and they lounged on the sofa bed as they waited. She noticed him yawn a few times. He remarked that it didn't feel like any sofa bed he'd ever been on, and she explained it was partly pressurized with air. Their food was delivered at the living room entrance, and Johnny began to slowly get up from the bed. She said, "I thought we would just sit against the back rest and eat in bed."

"Hell, Yeah!"

The pizza arrived, and Laura made drinks, sitting them on a bar tray. She put the boxes on the bed, and Johnny laughed because she had ordered so much. He asked why he could smell cinnamon, and she opened a box, showing him six large, cream icing covered cinnamon rolls. They were warm, and Laura freed one from the rest, holding it out for Johnny. He bit into it, eyes closing briefly, licking the icing from his lip. Laura took a bite much the same, then sat near him, and they ate four of the rolls. Johnny leaned back, and she snuggled into his arms. He quietly said, "Weirdest pizza I ever ate...", and with a chuckle, he dozed off. Seconds later, she couldn't help but fall asleep.

Johnny woke and eased himself up, carrying the food to the bar. Thankfully the fridge was large enough, and the boxes were fairly small. He munched a slice of pizza he snagged, wiping a bit of drool with a chuckle as he chewed the last bite, then went to the restroom.

Laura was still, only her eyes shining as he reentered the living room, the lone light in the corner reflecting in her gaze. He hadn't tied the robe after he put it back on, and when he saw she was awake, they both saw his body react. She looked in his face, for how long, neither knew, then scooted to the side of the bed to remove her robe. He thought how her hands felt like feathers sliding the robe from his shoulders, placing it on top of her own. She took his hand, and they got in bed, immediately kissing, hands roaming, breathing hard. Johnny knew her stories, and her fantasies were no secret from him, either. Laura placed her hair up in a sloppy bun with a hair tie she had on her wrist. He hesitated, looking in her blue eyes, shadowed in the dim light, and she pressed him back against the pillowed backrest, soft lips now at his jawline, and kisses on his neck, her breath on a damp trail leaving him in chills. He tried to hold her, but Laura's tongue and lips benevolently cosseted him from head to chest before taking his hand. She moaned and sighed against his fingers, chanced looking at him as she kissed his palm, and rested her mouth on his pulse. Johnny knew she could feel his exhilaration. His hand felt her hair and face, and the light now on his features showed his love; his hope. Without looking away from him, Laura caressed the tip of Johnny's erection, softly, trailing her fingertips to the base as he shuddered. Her fingers repeated the action a few times before she re-positioned herself between his legs, watching his face while she began to delicately lick him tip to base, then more firmly as he became wetter from her wealth of saliva. Her hand grasped the shaft of his penis when she sucked it in, stroking it firmly as she pumped her mouth on the head end halfway down, swirling her tongue back and forth on the underside below the ridge. She released the shaft, going deep, feeling his hardness pressing into her tonsils, and she swallowed repeatedly to work the flesh around him and increase his enjoyment. Suck, pump, swirl, and then as deep into her throat as she could, and drooling as his scent and flavor became hers, too. Repeatedly, she moved on him, carefully massaging his balls and taint, slippery from her own mouth watering. She heard him, and the juicy slurp and suck of loving him, and it soothed her, and it thrilled her. He pet her head, her hair, and said he couldn't stop, then said her name...

Laura kept swallowing and sucking, and moving, lavishing in Johnny's powerful ejaculation, licking up some as it leaked from her mouth. She worked everything she could from his balls, up and into her mouth, as he moaned, leaning his head back. Her sucking and licking was merciful, knowing he may be ultra-sensitive at this point. Soon, she was done, leaving closed-mouth kisses on his penis, not finishing before he pulled her up into his arms, and holding her tight and close.

Laura got up in a few minutes, and returned with a warm, wet cloth with which to wash Johnny. She giggled as he began to get hard again, and he chuckled softly. She offered him a drink, and he accepted, though when she got back, he was sound asleep. She put on her robe, and sat near the window to drink and think.

The moon seemed brighter than usual. Laura sat bathed in moonlight, wondering how things might change now that Johnny had the world available and things to do that he had missed. She did not want to cling to him like an irrational, insecure person. She wanted to be freely chosen. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel obligated to be with her. No, she absolutely did NOT want that, because she never wanted him to regret anything they had shared. Ever.

'Oh, God, I love him, though,' she thought.

'Love is not about regret. Love is not a mistake.' She told herself.

She sighed heavily.

"THAT can't be good," he said sleepily from the bed.

Laura laughed, and when he asked why, she told him she had never imagined they would end up sleeping in the living room of the suite, which she hadn't decorated. Johnny jumped up, picked up Laura, and headed to the bedroom. She pressed the button to open the upholstered door, laughing as he plopped her on the bed, then laughing as he flung himself haphazardly next to her. She pulled off her robe, then pulled back the covers, and they fell asleep cuddled up watching the lights.

The next morning when Johnny woke, he lay there not wanting to leave the embrace. He carefully took the tie-up from Laura's hair, and long, soft waves and curls rested everywhere. He could see there were some strands of white, though they blended in, and it looked good. He placed a finger into a curl, then another, amused when they bounced back.

He wanted to be with her, yet thoughts crowded his mind. Laura had become a moderately successful writer. She knew many people, and more each day as projects presented involving her writing.

How did she feel about him now, versus before her life changed? How would she feel in a week? A month? He didn't want her to think she had to include him. Would he be boring in her new world?

He had come on strong at the ranch, then was sorry, because the last thing he wanted her to feel was used. Johnny could scarcely breathe, wanting to make love to her, and be with her, every day, for as long as she would let him!

He decided to shower. There were new clothes.

Laura was showering in the second bathroom when he got out. He knew his mother had a hand in this; everything fit; he looked and felt great. He was munching when Laura came out in a bath towel. "Good pizza?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, "though, I thought you don't eat meat or dairy...?"

Laura smiled, "Everything we ordered is vegan, Johnny."

"Then this meat is made from..." he raised his eyebrows.

"Plants. You like?" she was smiling.

"I think I could be vegan if everything is like this." He popped the last bite into his mouth, smiling.

Laura quickly dressed, and they decided to go eat at the house. When they arrived, Johnny wandered around seeing everything while she prepared bagels. He came into the kitchen, and they began to eat some berries. She quietly watched him gently bite into a ripe strawberry, sucking to prevent sweet juice dripping from his lips. Laura moaned softly, closing her eyes and leaning on the counter, and he stepped forward and held her, turning her head, and saying, "Look at me," after swallowing the fruit.

Panting, blushing, her eyes met his.

Johnny took a deep breath, "The future I imagined, that gave me hope, was based on your love and encouragement. Things change, I know. I still want to start and end every day with you, but if you don't think I fit in your new world..."

Laura stopped him with her kiss; poignant and fierce; tears starting to slide down her cheeks.

"You are my world."

His mouth closed over hers as she said, "I love you", his hands rubbing over her body, stopping as he rubbed her butt.

"No panties?!" He asked, looking at her.

"No. I was hoping we would..." she began.

"Say no more," said Johnny, and he picked her up and went to the closest bedroom, placing her on the bed. He undressed as she watched. He knelt at the bed edge pulling her to him by the hips, rubbing her legs through the stockings a few times before removing them, and slipping off the garter belt, and skirt. Laura had unbuttoned her blouse and slipped her arms out. He pulled her face close, kissing her, then easing her back.

She cried out at his first taste of her wetness, his tongue swiping the inner folds of her vulva. The pattern of his movement became determined by her sighs and cries, and the first orgasm was rapidly followed by more powerful ones, her hands holding fistfuls of the quilt, with hips grinding forth. She whimpered his name, "Ooh, yes, Johnny..."

Delirious, she was lifted closer to the headboard, and he treated her to deep kisses that tasted of the satisfaction he'd provided, and her need. He shook with urgency himself as he pushed deep into her, groaning from the slick grasp of her vagina. He pushed her hands above her head and held them, kissing her, then driving short thrusts into her using only his hips. Her climax overwhelmed them, her body contracting around his cock, holding him. She cried out his name, and he released her arms, which went around his neck, She said, "Can you...feel how much I want you...? How much...how much I love you?"

He couldn't answer as he came, thrusting long and deep into her, a harsh, throaty sound to his voice. His body buckled and snapped, and he rested heavily in Laura's arms. She cried softly, joyfully, and after several moments he kissed her teary cheek and mouth.

"Yes," he said, "and I love you, too.”

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mlovesstories · 6 years ago

Text

Scout Was A Secret 2

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Word Count: 2089

Warnings: Language, gruff Dean, sassy Scout

Scout arrived in Lebanon, Kansas. Using her resources, she found out that the guy she talked to was most-likely her father. Scout was told about the bunker. It scared her as she had never encountered one, but she was strong-willed and determined to find him.

Scout pulled up in her old, beat up car. Her door squeaked as she shut it and walked toward the heavy door. Scout knocked, but no one answered, so she sat in front of the metal entrance. As she did, she heard a rumble coming down the entrance road. A man rolled down his window and got her attention.

“HEY! KID!” He started. “Scram! It ain’t haunted, move on!”

“You would know, wouldn’t you? WINCHESTER!” She spat back at him. ”I have some business to discuss!” Scout yelled so that he could hear over the roar of his old car.

Dean’s eyes went wide at her mentioning his name.

“Dammit, kid. Let me put my baby away, and we can talk.”

________

“So, kid-”

“Scout,” she deadpanned. “You’re Dean, right? You must be Sam?” Scout said curtly.

“Never heard of you, Scout.”

“Hadn’t heard of you either, Dean.”

“Okay! Why don’t we sit? Yes?” Sam tried to calm the situation.

After they were seated, Dean was still wondering what was going on.

“You got some business to talk about, huh?”

“Yep.” Scout popped the last syllable.

“What is it then, kid?” Dean was growing tired of her answers.

“SCOUT! My NAME is Scout, you ass!”

He put his hands up.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to young hunters,” he recoiled.

“I’m not really a hunter. I know some hunters now, but I lost someone close to me.”

“Personal?” Dean looked at her sincerely.

“My mom,” Scout teared up.

“Sorry, ki- Scout,” he reached to touch her arm, but she scooted back. “So why are you here?”

“You know Laura Mayweather?”

“Haven’t seen her in-”

“Little more than sixteen years?” Scout raised a brow.

“About that, yeah. Why-” Dean’s eyes went big, and he took a deep breath.

Oh shit.

“According to her, you’re my dad.” Scout said slowly.

I have a kid.

“My mom told me she didn’t tell you. I brought my birth certificate.” Scout slid the paper across the table. She saw the blank look on his Dean’s. “You know what- bad idea. I’ll just let myself out,” she shrugged and started to stand.

“You can’t drop something on me like this and leave, Scout,” Dean stood to block her path to the door. “When were you born?” He picked up the document and saw his name listed as the father.

“February 11, 2002.”

“What’s your full name?”

“Kansas Laura Carlyle,” she responded. The boys’ jaws dropped. “Yes, I know my name is weird. No commentary needed,” she dismissed them.

“No, it’s awesome. Kansas is home. And it was for your mom too. The band is an added bonus. So why the name Scout?” Dean’s interest skyrocketed.

“Well, she has called me that ever since I can remember. Mom told me I was curious, always up for finding things and getting dirty. She said my dad was like a Boy Scout, knew everything needed to get by in life, and that would be me someday.”

Dean froze.

What? Okay, keep it together.

“That’s very cool, thanks for sharing,” Sam covered for his brother. She smiled at his compliment.

“Are you sure you’re mine? She could have put anyone’s name on this,” Dean stated flatly, coming back to the reality that he might have a daughter.

“Are you saying my mom is a slut, Winchester?” Scout growled.

“No! I just…” he trailed off.

“Journal, backpage.”

Dean flipped to the last page and saw the same drawing that Scout had.

“Why didn’t Laura say anything?” Dean looked earnestly at his daughter.

“She told me that you were too good of a hunter, and she also wanted to keep me safe. My mom said it wouldn’t be fair for either of us, basically. I didn’t know about you or hunting until after she died. She told me to look in a chest, and I found the journal,” Scout stated matter-of-factly.

“I gave this to her,” Dean remembered Laura opening his gift.

“So can we talk about all this, please?”

“Talk about what?” Dean asked.

“You. Me. Father and daughter.” she said in a snarky tone. “Can I get to know you?” She crossed her arms.

“You’ve got Laura's sass,” he smiled.

————

“So, you’re sixteen, emancipated, and roughing it in your car?” Dean was skeptical.

“The house was sold, and I don’t have other family. Mom told me in her journal to come find you. She said I could trust you… Can I?”

“Ummm…”

This is a lot.

“Never mind, obviously she was wrong,” Scout stood up and walked toward the bunker stairs.

“Wait!” Dean took hold of her wrist, but she surprised him with twisting his arm behind his back. They both paused, and he whimpered in response.

“Get your hunter hands off me, Winchester. I may not look like it, but I can handle myself just fine. DON’T touch me again, you understand?” She growled in his ear.

“Yeah, got it,” he screeched as she pulled his wrist upward even more. She pushed him forward after a beat. He stumbled to gain his balance and saw Sam snicker.

_______

The Winchesters invited Scout to stick around. Since she had nowhere to go, she did. Scout picked up on a few things within the first three days of her being in the bunker.

1. Dean gets angry when not fed.

2. Sam is sweet and shows emotions more than Dean.

3. Dean drinks. A lot. Maybe I can steal a beer?

4. Sam wants me here, Dean… I’m not so sure.

_______

“HEY! KID! Wake up! Time to go!” Dean yelled through Scout’s door.

She groaned, rolled over, and looked at the time.

6AM. Really, Winchester?

“GO AWAY!” She sassed.

“I will make your life hell, kid! Let’s go!”

She knew he was kidding, but she also believed him.

“FINE! Fifteen minutes!” Scout yelled back through the door.

“YOU’VE GOT FIVE!” Dean’s shoes were heard walking away from her door.

Crap. I don’t need him mad at me already. Get up!

“Why in the hell am I up this early?” She spat at her father after getting ready.

“You’re definitely Dean’s kid, Scout. He isn’t a morning person either,” Sam was packing up a bag.

“Shut it, Sammy.” Dean turned to Scout and said, “We have to go get supplies for a hunt. You’re coming with so that you can learn what we need. That way you know what to get next time.”

“I ain’t running your errands! I’m not a personal assistant! Get your own! Good night!” She walked back to her room. Before she could shut it, Dean stuck his foot between the door and doorframe.

“You said your mom wanted you to come find me, right?” He asked her with a deep groan. She rolled her eyes. “If you are going to live here, you have to own some of the responsibility. That’s how it works around here. Now, if you don’t come, we’ll find something else for you to do,” he relaxed his stance and waited.

“Fine, Winchester,” she walked out of her room after he stepped aside.

________

“I want to learn!” Scout whined.

She had been living with the Winchesters for a few months and had learned to really enjoy her new living accommodations.

“No, I am not teaching you. Besides, you have a black belt or something anyway,” Dean retorted.

“What’s wrong with learning to shoot a gun? You know what’s out there! Someone might come after me because I’m your kid! I hate this hunting crap, but I’m a risk. You know that!”

“Go to school,” Dean said abruptly.

“What?” Scout confusedly asked.

“Finish high school,” he stated differently. “If you re-enroll then I will teach you.”

“No!”

“Then no shooting,” Dean said flatly.

“What does school have anything to do with it? I took my GED anyway. I’m done with high school stuff,” she raised a brow at her father.

“You don’t like hunting, right?” He returned her question with a question.

“No, but it has worked for you.”

“I had to. I didn’t have a choice. Enroll in something. Get an education. You’re too smart to be sitting here.”

“So I’m stupid? Thanks, Dad.”

“You know that’s not what I mean. Do something with your life. I don’t want this life for you. You deserve better than your dad and uncle leaving you for days to fend for yourself.” Dean was irritated.

“I’ll get a job. It will be fine.”

“Bull- you will not be like-”

“You? What’s wrong with that?” Scout stood up to match her father’s stance.

“Sam and I have the weight of the world on our shoulders. I just don’t want you to live in constant stress.”

“I don’t want you to either, but guess we can’t have what we want!” Scout stomped down the hallway into her room.

________

“Ah!” Scout screamed when she saw a man appear in the bunker during a conversation between herself and her uncle. She stood up and started to attack when Sam got her attention.

“Stand down!” Sam yelled. “He’s a friend.”

She relaxed in her seat.

“Ummm… did he just come from nowhere?”

Cas looked at her confusedly.

“Cas?” Dean entered the room.

“Dean! You guys okay?” Cas was frantic.

“Yeah, we’re good. Good to see you,” Dean said calmly as he gave Cas a hug.

Scout didn’t understand what was going on.

She looked at Sam and gestured to her dad and his friend. “Are they gay or something?” She asked innocently.

Sam spit out his drink.

“Well…” Sam left it open for interpretation.

“No! We aren’t gay! He's a friend,” Dean justified. “Did you not hear our prayers, Cas?” He turned from Scout to his angel friend.

“Wait, what? Prayers?” Scout thought her hearing skills were in question.

“He’s an angel,” Sam responded plainly.

“Huh. Interesting.”

“No- I didn’t hear your prayers while in heaven. Angel radio was full of static for an extended period,” Cas brought back the original conversation.

“Well, meet my daughter, -“

“Kansas,” Cas finished.

“I go by Scout, but yeah. Impressive. I like him,” she giggled.

“You aren’t freaked out that there are angels?” Sam asked her.

“Well, there are demons, so no. I guess not,” Scout responded. “I like the idea of angels.”

“You shouldn’t. They’re dicks,” Cas replied seriously.

“Wait, what?”

———-

“Dean!” Sam yelled through the bunker. The older Winchester stomped out of his room with bed head-style hair.

“WHAT?” He yelled back. “Why are you screaming at me at six in the morning?” Dean walked over to his younger brother and wacked him on the back of his head.

“Ow!” Sam pushed Dean away. “I was going to tell you that I haven’t heard from Scout for the past few days. Have you seen her?”

“Ummm… I’m not sure.” he shrugged.

Dean’s mood changed. He and Sam ran to the daughter’s room.

“Scouty?” Dean roared through the door. They heard a moan. “I hope you’re decent, kid. We’re comin’ in!”

As they entered, they saw her sprawled out on her bed, limbs everywhere.

“Hi,” she rasped.

“Sick?” Sam asked.

Scout nodded. Sam checked her head for a fever while Dean pulled out some fresh clothes for her.

“Shower and then meds,” Dean said sternly.

“Dean, I’m fine.”

“You stink, and you didn’t tell us, let’s go.”

“Gee, thanks,” Scout huffed.

“Always here for support. Come on, I’ll walk you to the bathroom,” he bent down to stabilize her.

“Fine. I know I’ll lose a fight to a gigantor and an angry Dean anyway,” she said sarcastically.

————

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#mlovesstoriesseries #scoutwasasecret #mlovesstoriescanon #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x daughter

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