#read a good post that slid by on my dash about people using their characters as constructs vs meeting them as spirits and !!

[ancat-dubh]

Witchy people who incorporate your/other peoples' fictional characters into your practice!

Tell me more about what that looks like for you? Having a lil brainworm and would like some insight!

[winchestersheaven]

So this happened. I don't write sex, I don't even write hinting at sex (anymore), and yet. Welp.

@brobonebang showed up on my dash, I laughed and loved the whole thing (Wincest is one of like maybe 3 ships I actually read smutty fics for, and the only ship of those that I actually properly ship), then I went to check out the prompts, saw the laundromat one, and my brain said "What if we wrote that? Right now?" and I did. I'm still confused, but also happy, because I actually wrote something that I finished and, more importantly, feel good enough about that I want to share it. And that last point made me even more confused, because, again, sex. What.

Anyway.

I had fun writing, and I hope you have fun reading.

Edited by me, with the help of LanguageTool. Thank you to @rieraclaelin for reading it through for me and reassuring me it's okay to post it! Any remaining mistakes are my own, please leave them alone.

Warnings: Aside from what's already tagged, there are some small things I didn't want to tag because they're too minor, but that some people might want to avoid. • There's an OFC (this is where the exhibitionism comes in). She doesn't really see anything, and the brothers stop when there's a risk that she will. • Very brief cocksucking (and talk about future face fucking). • Very, very mild incest kink, imo. • And lastly, some mild teasing. If you think any of these deserves their own warning tags, please let me know so I can fix it.

In the Laundromat ao3

1895 words | Explicit fandom: Supernatural pairing: Wincest characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester tags: Established Wincest, Brother/Brother Incest, PWP, Bottom Dean/Top Sam, Anal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Sam Has a Large Penis, Cock Warming

“Hey, I’m bored,” Sam said and slid his hand down the back of Dean’s underwear, rubbing the pad of his index finger against his hole.

“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean muttered. “Here?”

They were in a laundromat late at night, and while the late hour reduced the risk of other people coming to do their laundry, it meant the place was fully lit up and everyone walking by could see them through all the many windows.

“We’ve done worse,” Sam said with a shrug., removing his hand, only to return it a moment later with spit slick fingers. Dean’s cock twitched, and he let out a small groan. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean rasped, and Sam pushed his fingers inside him.

The double row of washers were between them and the entrance, Dean leaning against one of the washers they used with his elbows on top of it, so people wouldn’t see what they were up to unless they came inside. They could probably guess, though, but Dean didn’t get much time to worry about that before Sam pulled his underwear down his butt just enough to push his lubed cock inside him. That sneaky bastard. Dean’s eyelids fluttered as he breathed out a moan, and Sam gripped his hips and moaned against his neck.

They must be a sight, Dean in just a t-shirt, underwear, and shoes, with Sam standing behind him, wearing jeans and shoes, his naked chest pressed against Dean’s back as he pushed him against the washer.

Sam slowly fucked into him, keeping them fairly still as he kissed and mouthed and moaned on Dean’s neck. He snuck a hand down the front of Dean’s underwear, grabbing his cock, and Dean couldn’t stop a low groan.

The sound of the door opening had them both freezing on the spot, but the woman didn’t even glance at them as she walked up to a washer. Sam slowly straightened up and pressed his groin against Dean’s ass, gently rolling his hips as he filled him up.

Dean turned his head. “You bitch,” he breathed quietly enough that only Sam could hear him.

Sam chuckled against Dean’s hair. “Jerk,” he said, just as quietly.

He pressed hard against Dean, against the washer in front of him, and his light grip on Dean’s cock vibrated with the washer.

The woman slammed the door of her washer while Sam rolled his hips, then she sat down with a heavy sigh and pulled out a dog-eared book. She looked far away as she stared at the pages of the book, Dean doubted she was actually reading, or aware of anything going on around her.

Sam seemed to agree as he fucked into Dean, bending his knees to get the angle right. He kept his movements small and slow as he pressed Dean against the washer. But then the woman furrowed her brow, and Sam stilled again, wrapping his free arm around Dean’s shoulders, making it look like he was just hugging him from behind.

Then they stood there. Sam gently stroked and fondled Dean’s cock, and he occasionally shifted his weight and rolled his hips.

Dean wanted to fucking weep, he was so hard. He wanted Sam to grab his hips and fuck him hard, to bend him over one of the counters and take him apart with his cock. But he stayed still, just clenched Sam’s cock in his ass as he closed his eyes and tilted his head to press his mouth against Sam’s forearm.

Then the centrifuge cycle started, and Dean couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping as Sam’s hand vibrated on his cock. Sam’s soft chuckle jostled him gently, and Dean opened his mouth to put his teeth to Sam’s skin when he pushed his cock deeper into his ass.

It was a few minutes of torture, standing there pressed against a vibrating washer with Sam’s cock inside him, while Sam rolled his hips and fondled his cock. Sam put the head of Dean’s cock against the glass of the washer, and Dean twitched at the vibrations and muffled a moan against Sam’s forearm.

But then the centrifuge stopped and their washer was done, and Sam slipped out of Dean and nudged him to the side so he could open the door.

“Fucking asshole,” Dean muttered as he righted his underwear and uselessly tugged at his t-shirt in the hopes it would cover him up more.

Sam just grinned at him and gestured to the other washers they had running that were finishing up too. They moved all three of their loads to dryers, Sam had to tuck himself away and button his jeans when they started to move around, but the outline of his cock was clearly visible. And distracting as fuck.

“Come on,” Sam said once the dryers were going, and tugged Dean back to the washer. He wrapped his arm around his shoulders again and pressed his clothed erection against Dean’s ass.

“Bossy,” Dean muttered.

Sam laughed softly and nuzzled the side of his neck while slipping his free hand in between them to pull his cock out again. He tugged Dean’s underwear down, then slowly pressed his cock back inside him as he slid his hand around Dean and down his underwear to grip his cock.

“You’re comfy,” he said, and Dean huffed out a breath.

“Mhm,” he said.

Sam didn’t move, just stroked Dean’s cock while he leaned against him like the big lug he was. He sighed, seemingly perfectly content standing there with his cock in Dean’s ass while a woman tiredly stared unseeingly at a book just a few feet away. Dean tilted his head forward to hide a smile against Sam’s arm. He clenched around Sam, and the little hitch in Sam’s breath had his smile widening. But Sam quickly got his revenge, as he stroked Dean’s cock in a firm grip, making his breathing pick up no matter how hard he tried to keep it even and slow.

“Did you get a chance to look at the Cockatrice stuff, by the way?” Sam said, his voice low but not whispering, as if everything was normal and they were just having a regular laundromat conversation.

Dean lifted his head. “Uh, yeah, what the fuck was that, a rooster dragon medusa?” he said.

Sam probably rolled his eyes, his head shifted slightly behind Dean’s, but he pressed his mouth to the side of Dean’s neck in an almost-kiss. “Yeah, pretty much. Could be it,” he said.

“Mhm,” Dean agreed and clenched around Sam again. He didn’t like talking about their cases while they fucked, because it always made him horny while working their cases. But on the other hand, he liked tormenting Sam with his horny and he liked stopping for quickies in the car, so really, it wasn’t so bad. Except when they couldn’t pause for some release, but they usually made time.

Sam squeezed Dean’s cock and ran his thumb over the head in revenge, and Dean muffled his moan against his arm, while Sam kept talking about the case. It probably was a Cockatrice, but Dean wasn’t focusing too well on what Sam was saying, not when he kept stroking his cock and shifting his weight, pulling out an inch or two and then pushing back in, on a couple of occasions hard enough to make Dean grunt. He managed to keep the conversation going, but it was mostly to keep up appearances, to make it look like they were just standing there, hugging and talking.

He really fucking hoped the woman wasn’t gonna dry her stuff too, or they’d have to leave hard, and he hated leaving hard.

When her washer was on the centrifuge stage, Sam put his mouth to Dean’s ear to speak. “I want to bend you over the counter and fuck you, let her see you take my cock,” he said in a low whisper.

His breath made Dean shiver, and his words made Dean’s cock twitch.

Dean turned his head towards Sam. “Want to show off your big cock, baby brother?” he asked, just as quietly, smirking when Sam breathed out a small whimper against his cheek.

“Yeah,” Sam rasped, “and show her how well my big brother takes it.”

“Yeah,” Dean whispered. Fuck, she needed to leave ASAP, or they would have problems.

As if hearing his thought, her washer slowed down and came to a stop, and both Sam and Dean stood perfectly still, only Sam’s hand moved on Dean’s cock. The woman twitched when her washer beeped, and she quickly put her book away and stuffed her wet laundry in a bag, then she left the laundromat.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Dean said as soon as the door closed behind her.

“Yeah,” Sam said and grabbed Dean’s hips to pull him back and start to fuck him properly, finally letting him feel the full length of him. “Oh, fuck, Dean, I’m so close, Jesus.”

“Yeah, come on, baby,” Dean said, and Sam did the little whine-grunt he always did when Dean called him baby when they fucked.

“I’ve got you,” he grunted, fucking Dean harder.

“I want you to fuck my face,” Dean said, and Sam swore and came with a loud groan.

“Oh, fuck, fuck you, fuck,” Sam said, and Dean grinned.

“Okay, maybe later, then,” he said.

“God, shut up, fuck, come on,” Sam said, pulling out of Dean and dropping to his knees. Dean hadn’t more than turned around before Sam’s mouth was on him, sucking him in, and he shoved two fingers up his ass too, making Dean groan.

“Oh, God, Sammy, fuck,” Dean said, and Sam moaned around him. Dean’s eyelids fluttered, but he looked at Sam and smiled. “Yeah, you’re so pretty on your knees for me, baby.”

Sam closed his eyes and moaned again, but he quickly looked at Dean again, his eyes big. He knew exactly what he was doing to Dean, looking at him like that.

“Fuck me, Jesus,” Dean said, and came down Sam’s throat.

Sam sucked Dean through it and swallowed it all with a pleased smile on his face. He pulled off and the smile turned into a grin.

“Not Jesus, but—”

“Oh, shut up,” Dean interrupted with a short laugh, and Sam smoothly stood up and tucked himself away, still grinning. A grin that only widened when Dean pulled his underwear in place and made a face at how sticky he was. “Good thing we washed my jeans, they totally won’t be ruined on the way to the motel.”

Sam shrugged and put his own sticky fingers in his mouth, sucking his own come from them from where they had been buried in Dean’s ass just a moment ago, and Dean pushed his arm hard enough to make him stumble to the side and laugh.

“You’re so fucking gross,” Dean said.

“At least my jeans are still clean,” Sam said smugly.

“I changed my mind, I don’t want you to fuck my face,” Dean said. Well, he did, but he wanted to make him come in his own pants more.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Sam said. He knew Dean far too well.

-

They hadn’t more than closed the motel room door behind them before Dean was on his knees, pawing at Sam’s jeans to get his cock out. Eh. He’d get his revenge soon enough.

[sunshineandbnha]

Unexpected - Denki x reader (Valentine’s Day)

Word count: 3,978

Warnings: none, aside from a case of “Did not edit, just finished this this morning”

A/n: HOW DID THIS END UP SO LONG?? I swear, I started it with the idea and intention that it would be 1.4k or 1.9k words. How did I accidentally write two thousand more words? Anyway, I hope this is a good valentine fic for Denki boy. I thought of it due to a prompt on tumblr. If I can later remember who it was who made it, I will edit this and have a link to that post.

Edit: Found it. The prompt was made by @love-me-a-good-prompt

~

When was it you started to look at him differently?

"Hey!"

You looked over your shoulder to find Kaminari making his way past several students in the cafeteria to get to you. You turned your body to face him. Though, you felt awkward about still holding your lunchtray, as if it was a barrier between you and him.

"Do you got a date for tomorrow?" he asked with a grin.

Your heart gave a weep at the reminder of Valentine's day. As if the hearts and commercials all over the place weren't enough. "What do you think?"

"Just checking." He dashed to get his lunch tray he had set down, and sped walked to your side as you picked a table to sit at.

Kaminari had been your friend for several months. One day you had simply overheard him talking about a manga, the same one you had read, and you jumped into the conversation. After that, the both of you became easy friends, and frequently had lunch at the same table.

"Why would you even ask?” You slid into a seat at the table. “You know there's no one I'm really interested in."

"Except for fictional characters," he added while getting into his own chair across from you.

"Yeah. Unfortunately they aren't available for me to ask out."

He leaned back in his seat. “We’re really missing out on these things. I thought by the time I was in high school training to be a cool hero, I would have tons of girls who like me by now.”

“And I, for some reason, thought I would magically manifest a special someone. But that’s clearly not happening anytime soon.” You stared down while absent mindedly stirring your food.

He suddenly sat straight and looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. The kind that told you he had an idea. "What if we did all of that classy Valentine's day stuff together?"

"I think you meant cliche."

"Banana, ba- ... oh wait, that's not how the saying goes."

You let out a large laugh and nearly choked on your food.

"Something with tomatoes or potatoes," he continued with a wave of his hand as if throwing away the topic. "Well, what do you think? You wanna do it?"

"You just want the chocolate, don't you?"

"No! I would never!" He waved his arms around. "... Well, that too."

"I knew it!" You lifted your fork/chopstick of food into air in triumph. "Just make sure you get my favorite chocolate once White Day rolls around."

"Sure thing!" He gave a thumbs up. "I'm sure I can get enough money by then!"

"You've been using all of it on manga and snacks again, haven't you?"

"What else would I use it on?"

"Okay. Just don't use the money for my chocolate on manga."

"If I did, It would be a great manga and be worth a lot more than some chocolate. Actually, that should be a thing. Instead of getting girls chocolate, get them manga! And we should get manga too. ... So, are we doing it?" he asked when he paused long enough to think.

"I don't know,” you shrugged while taking another bite.

He slammed his hand on the table. "But you said it like you did! I just agreed to get you chocolate next month!"

"I was saying if I agreed. If I agreed then you would have to get me chocolate.” You internally laughed at his response.

Kaminari slumped in his chair. "Okay, but my point is, how long have we been single? And it doesn't look like it's going to change anytime soon, so I was thinking why not we experience some of it while we're still in high school?"

"Hmmm," you tapped your finger against your lip. "Well, you have a point. And I guess I got nothing better to do tomorrow."

“So it’s a yes?” his eyes lit up.

“I guess so.”

“Yes!” He jumped up and some heads turned towards him. “I got a—!”

You hastily pulled him back down and got a hold of his ear. He yelped in pain before you shushed him. The attention he had gained was beginning to die down after doing that, much to your relief. You released a small puff of air, grateful that you didn’t feel like you were in a spotlight anymore.

“Kaminari,” you whispered into his ear, an edge present in your voice, “Don’t go announcing it to the world, especially if it’s not an actual date. Do not ruin it for me.”

You let go, and he got out of the awkward position of being pulled half way onto the table. Thankfully, he hadn’t landed in his food when you pulled him down. He settled back in his chair and rubbed his ear.

“Okay! You can count on me!”

 Maybe it was a bad idea to suddenly agree when that meant you had to make chocolate for him that night. You already had some chocolate you bought from the store for family and friends. One of those giri chocos was originally going to be his, but now you would have to actually make him honmei choco if you were going to have the whole Valentine's Day experience. You considered skipping on that for a brief second, but you had already agreed to do it. Plus, you weren't sure if you would ever get to do this during high school at this rate. And you wanted to at least have done it once.

You'd have to run to the store to get better quality chocolate, a cute wrap for it, and a heart shaped mold. In order to save time, you went directly to the nearest store after school. It would save time, which you didn't have much of it. You didn't know how long it would take to make them, and you wanted some extra time in case you make a mistake and had to do something over again.

It was more crowded than you thought. You also didn't realize how many stares you would get just for being in your U.A. uniform. Thankfully, everything you needed was there and you made your way to the counter to pay. As you were weaving your way through the people, you thought you saw another student. You did a double take. Uniform. Pink skin. Ashido.

You tried to duck and hide, but it was too late.

"Oh, hey!" She waved you down and ran to you. A bag of purchased goods was hanging from her arm. "What are you doing here? Are you getting last minute giri choco too!"

“I, uh.”

“Hey, isn't that stuff to make chocolate? Wait a second… OMG! Who’s the lucky person!”

You nervously held the items close to you. This was why you didn't want her seeing you. "No one, really. I'm just... making it for the experience." You put a smile onto your face and did your best to make the last half of the sentence sound cheery.

It wasn't technically a lie. You just hoped she bought it. Because if she kept prying and learned it was for Kaminari, you would never hear the end of it.

"Okay. Can I have some when you're done?" She joked and bumped your arm with her elbow.

"Only if I didn't eat it all first." You internally high fived yourself for the quick reply.

"Okay. Well, see you at U.A." She waved before dashing out the door.

"Bye!" You watched her go. When she was out of view, you exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding.

 You stood nervously in the park. You wore a Valentine Day themed outfit you had put together, with the help of some ideas from the internet. It was 5:45 pm, the time you agreed on meeting. You had honestly expected him to be slightly late. Though it did nothing to make your feel less jittery.

There were quite a few people who also had the same idea of going to the park. Some friends playing Frisbee. A family walking by. And some couples. You scanned the area for him, multiple times, but still couldn't see him.

Why were you even so worried? This was your friend. It’s not like it was an actual date with someone you liked. If he forgot or something, you could just chew him out later. Then that 'what if' situation made you sick to your stomach and you forced yourself to stop thinking about it.

"Hey!"

You head turned up within a split second and you saw him. He wore a dark blue button up shirt. This plus his smile and hair... somehow made him look nice. A smile spread on your face, yet your nerves didn't completely calm down just yet.

"Hey!" You greeted back.

"You look nice," he commented.

"You too." You nodded. "So, what were you planning on doing first?"

"I thought we'd walk around here first, then go to this one restaurant. And after that we can wander around shops." he shrugged.

"Okay, sounds nice." You began walking side by side with him.

Your brain tried to sabotage the moment by beginning to make you feel awkward. You did your best to push it away. But were you supposed to be walking in silence? Or talking?

"You wanna hold hands?" He offered.

"Hmm," you joking held your finger to your lip in deep thought. "I think no."

"Oh, come on!" He acted upset, but there was a big grin on his face.

You laughed and he joined in. A few more jokes were thrown back and forth as you passed trees and other people. Though within a seemingly short amount of time, the conversation hit dead end. You pulled on your sleeve and look in any direction but him.

"Okay, this is getting boring,” he said. “Can we go to the restaurant now?”

"Lucky for you, I think we're almost at the end of the park, and I'm hungry."

“Yes!” he cheered. “They always make walking through the park look more fun in the movies.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a laugh.

Kaminari led you to the place he picked out. Well, more like he tried to go there, then got lost and had to give up on relying on his memory. He made the brilliant move of pulling out his phone, setting the location on his map app, and he following it. But you both realized that he had gotten the point where you going mixed up with your location.  This resulted in having to backtrack and ignoring your growling stomach as it took even longer to get there.

Finally, you found it. You entered through door with him. Inside were tables placed around a large circle. The conveyor belt had several plates of food with different types of sushi and other dishes. The chiefs in the middle of the circle conveyor worked hard to keep the food coming. Almost every table was filled.

“Aw, man. We should have gotten here earlier,” Kaminari grabbed your hand. “C’mon.”

You both ran until you spotted a free table and slide in. It took a second to catch your breath after the sudden sprint. Sitting in the chair, you looked around more closely. It was a nice place. There were people chattering, some clanking of plates, and mouth watering food slowly passing by you. You reached up to begin to grab one, but then you stopped yourself.

"Wait, am I paying for myself or where you...?"

"You can have whatever you want. My treat," he replied with a ish eating grin. Probably meant that he thought what he just said was very cool.

You laughed to yourself and picked one and he did the same. It was good. You were pleasantly surprised, though you weren't sure why. Maybe it was because he had only learned of the restaurant while looking up ones online to take you to. And it was only yesterday that you agreed. Then again, you had made honmei choco the other night...

You suddenly remembered something and nearly choked on your sushi roll.

"You okay?" Kaminari said, unfortunately dismissing any hope you had that he didn't notice.

"No, I'm good. I just need to make a phone call. One second." You excused yourself and walked outside while pulling out your phone.

It was an uncomfortable change to suddenly be greeted by the chilly February air. Was it really that cold when you  were with Kaminari? You dialed your mom's number and resisted the urge to pace.

As soon as you heard the other end being picked up, you began. "Mom, I need you to get something for me. If you look in the kitchen, somewhere on the counter is where I left a bag of chocolate for Valentine's day. Can you bring that to me?" You had been so busy trying to get ready and be on time, that you had accidentally left the honmei choco you made.

"Uhh, okay. But where are you? It’ll be awfully hard to give it to you if I don’t know where you are."

"In a little bit I should be..." you tried to think of a good point to meet up, "near Takoba Municipal Beach Park. Probably close to that one gazebo. I'll text you that so you don't forget after I hang up."

"Okay. I hope you appreciate this. I really don't feel like going all the way out there to give you something you forgot."

"If I could go back and un-forget it, I would. Thank you. Bye."

With that, the call ended. You took a deep breath to calm your heart, which seemed to think forgetting chocolate was a catastrophic event, and went back inside.

When you caught sight of Kaminari again he was dunking a chunk of seaweed and fish into soy sauce, before shoving it into his already full mouth. He stopped  and paused upon seeing you. He chewed and swallowed as quickly as he could and finished by the time you sat back down.

"So, what was that about?" he started it off as a joke, but his voice seemed shaky for whatever reason.

"I just forgot something and asked Mom to go get it for me." Technically wasn't a lie.

"Oh, okay." He began eating more. He started counting the plates and you could see his face pale a tad.

"Is everything alright for you?"

"Huh? I mean, yeah, everything's great." He smiled at you.

You shrugged and focused your gaze on the conveyor belt. A particularly delicious looking morsel. It was clearly more expensive, with a nice layer of tuna in it. You reached out your hand, considering getting it when you saw Kaminari flinch at your action.

You turned to him. "Do I need to pay for my own meal?"

"No, no," he tried to retain the coolness he built up, "I can pay."

You sighed. "No, you are not going broke because of expensive fish."

"But, that's not-"

"What? It's not cool? Denki- oops.” You realized you accidentally used his given name.

His face turned the slightest bit pink, though you hardly even noticed in your own embarrassment. “That’s fine. You can call me Denki. We’ve known each other long enough.”

“Thanks,” you nodded and continued, “Denki, you are my friend," why did the word 'friend' leave a different taste this time 'round? "and I don't want you doing something stupid because you think it makes you look cool."

He struggled to make a comeback and ended up blurting out, "Doing something stupid that makes me look cool defines me."

"Look, let's split the bill between us, that way you pay for some of mine, but you don't spend up the money for the chocolate you promised me."

"Wait, you didn't care about me, you just wanted to make sure you still got chocolate." He faked an offended expression.

You exhaled a laugh. "Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you feel better. As long as you agree."

"Fine."

"But don't purposefully buy more just because I'm offering to pay half."

"Can't make any promises~"

"You little-"

Eventually, you became full enough, or rather reached the maximum to what you were willing to pay. Then you left. You blinked when you stepped out. You hadn’t expected it to become this dark. Kaminari began walking off, probably to some store or the mall, but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Is it alright if we stop by the beach?"

His eyes lit up, like the stars in the sky. "Great idea! That'd be much more romantic."

You expected to roll your eyes, but what you found was your face growing warm and your mouth being lost for words. Thankfully, he didn't notice and just started running for the beach, pulling you along. Buildings loomed over you in the dark, until they finally cleared and the beach came into view. The sea seemed to become the night sky. It gently washed over the sand in a rhymic pattern. The sound of it filled your ears and your senses listened. A sense of calmness washed over you.

You both walked up to the gate that separated the beach from the road. Kaminari leaned against the metal gate, resting on his arms. The two of you stared at the view in a comfortable silence.

“Wow, this is nice,” he commented.

“Yeah.” There was a weird feeling, somewhat reminiscent to a flutter or squeeze, in your chest. Something that made the moment seem more magical. You could almost feel this feeling rising and beginning to climb up your throat.

More silence, then a movement caught your attention out the corner of your eye. Your mom was waving to you and held a small bag that slightly reflected in the small amount of light there was.

“One second, I need to go get something,” you let him know and ran to your mom. “Thank you so much.”

“Just don’t make this a habit,” she handed it to you. Then she glanced to where Kaminari was and squinted. “Is that your date? Is that why you were making chocolate?”

“No,” your voice came out more unsure for some reason, “well, I… was just making that for myself. This is just giri choco.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “Don’t stay out much longer.”

“I won’t.” You quickly ran back. “Hey,” you greeted him.

“Hey. What was that about?”

“Noting important,” you shrugged and leaned on the gate. “Oh, and here.” You held the bag out to him, trying to act cool and nonchalant, but you knew you had a big smirk on your face.

He gasped and snatched it out of your hold. He wrestled with the bag, trying to get it open. Once he succeeded, he looked inside. A big smile spread across his face and he pulled it out. He held a large chocolate heart on a stick, almost like a lollipop. You thought that would be fun to make. Of course, now that he held it, you could see all the tiny imperfections. Like where a small air bubble had been, or how some chocolate had gotten on the stick. But Kaminari didn’t seem to care at all. He stared at it in awe. Like he had just been given something he wanted for years.

“Wow! Wait, did your mom just give this to you? Did you forget?” he looked over to you.

“What, no, I would never…” you laughed nervously. “But I did make it. You better like it, or else,” you joked.

“I’m sure I will! Wow. You made this?”

“Yep. Last night.”

“Thank you!” He took a bite out of it and began happily chewing.

You smiled. Your eyes locked onto the gazebo on the beach. It looked really nice. The thought of you being in it made you want to go even more. Currently there was a couple there, but then they walked out and started going down the beach. Your eyes lit up.

You looked to Kaminari, tugged on his sleeve, and pointed to the now empty location.

He grinned. “I think I know what you’re thinking and I think we should do it too.”

With a couple of small laughs you both hurried down to the beach was fast as you could. The sand made you slow your pace into a walk, but you didn’t mind. The sea air on you felt refreshing, chilling your skin. The moon was beautiful and the water reflected slivers of the moonlight that danced.

"It looks really nice." You smiled.

"Yeah... wanna hold hands?" He offered his free hand to you.

To your surprise, this actually sounded nice. And to your greater surprise, you accepted. Your hand slipped in his perfectly. Almost like it found its home. The second you skin touched, it was like electricity ran through you and jump started your heart. You were about to ask if he was using his quirk, but quickly realized that it didn't feel exactly like electricity. But the strange feeling in your heart continued. You couldn't tell if it felt nice or if you wanted it to go away.

Your feet kept sinking in the sand until you reached the pier and had to get used to walking on concrete again. You made your way to the roof on the end of the pier, hand in hand. You stood by the edge. Staring at the water.

Kaminari took the last bite. “That was delicious.”

“Thanks.”

“So…” he looked around. He put the stick back into the bag and placed it in his pocket. “Wanna dance?”

Instead of your usual joking reply, you felt flustered, but shyly accepted. He pulled out his phone and started some music up. You put your hand in his and the other on his shoulder. He held you by the waist. You tried to regulate your breathing and calm down. The two of you began spinning in time with the music. He twirled you around. You even did that one move you would see in movies. When you’d spin out, like a door opening, while still holding his hand. The he’d pull you back to him. It all felt simple, and fun.

Right as the fourth song was ending, you had an overwhelming urge to ask him something. “Umm,” then you stopped yourself when you realized exactly what it was you actually wanted to ask. But why did it feel like it was rising out of your throat, desperately wanting to be said.

“Yeah?” he looked at you. His yellow eyes made you feel like melting, an effect they never had up until that point.

“I… it was nothing.”

“Really?”

“No.” You cursed yourself for automatically saying the truth.

 “Then what is it?” He looked at you more intently.

Your mind was doing somersaults trying to figure out what to do or say. “Date, please,” you blurted out.

“Huh?”

“Well, um.” You really wished you had kept your mouth shut. You stared down and said in the most quiet voice possible, “I think maybe I kinda like you and maybe, kinda, want to go on a real date with you. Maybe? If you’d be fine with that, maybe.”

“Wait,” he stepped back as if in surprise. “You. Want to date… me?”

Your face was burning to the point you wanted to stick into the water like an ostrich. “Yes?”

He threw his arms in the air and jumped around. “Yes! I got an actual date! I’m finally dating someone! They said I couldn’t do it!”

“You don’t need to announce it to the whole world.” You laughed.

“Well, you are m—”

“I swear, if you say finish with ‘my world’ I will knock you over the head.”

He let out a big laugh. “Why? You don’t want to be my world?”

His laughter was contagious. “No, it’s cheesy, and this literally just happened a minute ago.”

You both started to walk back, and hardly even noticed when your hands slipped perfectly into one another.

[84reedsy]

A Reunion

Rating: E- Explicit Characters: Severus Snape/Hermione Granger, Various other characters Summary:  A Hogwarts reunion leads two former Hogwarts students to an unexpected evening. Setting: Post 2nd Wizarding War, Snape Lives AU Warnings: Smut, drunkeness

The same faces year after year had lost their allure. Some had aged ever so gracefully while some seemed to speed along the path of degradation. It was to be expected; some had darker demons than others. The war had left its mark on almost every person in this room. But the camaraderie that had existed in the aftermath had ebbed and people had fallen back into somewhat predictable  comfort zones of their inner circles. And to say her inner circle had been reduced was an understatement. 

She’d rather sit at her home and read through yet another text. The company of books had always been more enjoyable to Hermione than people...at least most of them.  

Hermione was by no means anti-social, but there were many times where she was intimidated by the prospect of socialization, especially at these Hogwarts reunions where the attendance spanned every age.

She still saw Ron and Harry on occasion, but they never made it to these things. Harry had tired of the hero’s role and what came with it. He was content to hide away. Ron seemed to regress not long after they’d been able to complete their 7th year o.w.l.s. He longed for the careless childhood of which he claimed to have been robbed of. To say it strained their relationship was an understatement. Being the proactivist that she was, Hermione parted ways before things worsened, remaining amicable friends for the last 10 years. 

That was her in a nutshell - a proactive realist. And a lonely one at that. Sitting at the bar, her half empty glass of merlot seemed to magnify that reality. People spoke to her, yes, but no one seemed to hold a conversation with her for any length of time. She wasn’t upset about that for the most part; the conversations only went one of a few ways. Either they asked about Harry, errantly assumed she was still with Ron, or asked details of the war that she didn’t feel like repeating in light-hearted company. She may not have been the poster-boy that Harry was, but she felt like a martyr in her own right. 

She grinned politely and waved at George from across Hog’s Head. He stood with other wizards from his year, each holding a pint and laughing. He got along as well as one could expect, but even from a distance you could tell when someone mentioned Fred - there was a sadness to his smile and a far away look in his eyes. She supposed twins would have a more difficult time being separated by death than most, but remarkably, George had held up well all things considered.

“Another glass?” The barkeep tended the counter while the bottle of merlot hovered over her glass, just short of pouring, “This one’s compliments of the ginger bloke standing over near ‘is lads,” Hermione glanced at George once again, smiling as he lifted his pint towards her. She nodded towards the barkeep and the bottle titled as her glass floated from the bar top. 

The truth was, Hermione wanted conversation. She wanted to reconnect with people from her youth. But, she’d always been bored by her own peers. They lacked a certain...something. It was hard to put her finger on it as she tipped her wine glass back and surveyed the room. The crowd was slowly thinning, people had lives to return to. Children, careers, some seeking one night of companionship with an old (maybe even a new) flame. Some bid her farewell as they departed, others were too inebriated to abide by any social niceties. 

This was the after-party of the reunion, moving from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade. A fine dance had been held in the Great Hall. Hermione had been treated to moments of fond memories of the Yule Ball from her Fourth Year. She, Pavarti and a Ravenclaw a few years their senior had spent most of that sitting around a table attempting to catch up, but mostly commenting on the myriad of fashions chosen for the evening. They ranged from elegant to extremely gaudy, Luna sporting something near the latter of that spectrum. Neville in his dashing suit couldn’t have looked more proud to have the odd, but loyal lady on his arm. 

It was the solid black of his wardrobe that stood out first as the din of the ballroom had lessened. No one had ever expected Severus Snape to make an appearance even though an invitation was extended every year. To say he had become a hermit underemphasized the lonely existence he kept. It had not taken long for word to spread about his covert involvement that, many agreed, was the only reason the Second Wizarding War was ever winnable. His short temper and penchant for insults still left a sour reputation among the wizarding community but their gratitude was evident by leaving him be - just as he wished.

Hermione had felt then that she should make an effort to speak with him. Perhaps his loneliness had reached a point he could no longer endure. Though as an instructor he’d never offered her any sort of compassion or understanding, she felt compelled to provide both those things to him - especially with the way he spent most of the evening void of everything but uneasy glances. 

She should get home. It was very late in the evening and more wine was only going to make her sleepier. She slid from her stool, balancing the stem of her glass between her fingers. She would bid George and his mates good night and be on her way. Just as she turned, her eyes were drawn to the shadowy corner nearly vacated. 

Dressed still in solid black sat Severus Snape, a small glass of fire whiskey sat in front of him with his fingers lazily wrapped around it. The two gazes connected across the room and both knew they were equally as seen by the other. He’d noticed her at the ball and he’d settled in this quiet, hidden nook of a booth early enough to see her arrive here as well. As they stared, he had not a clue what they had to speak to the other about, but he found himself curious enough to invite her company.

“Miss Granger,” he slid from the booth, but stood still, not approaching her.

“Professor Snape,” She acknowledged him back, nodding slightly. She was only slightly aware that her grip tightened around her glass. 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to company,” It was the closest to an invitation he could muster. In his years of solitude his grasp of social graces had deteriorated a bit, not that they were ever that well-honed in the first place. He was relieved, but did not show it when she smiled politely and nodded. 

Hermione looked around as if she needed to tread carefully. Old habits must die hard; she was an adult - her school mates would not look on in shock if she were to associate with her former Potions and Dark Arts Professor. She approached the booth and slid in the side opposite him. She sat a napkin down before placing her wine glass on top of it. His curious look made her nervous.

“Muggle custom,” She mumbled. Mentioning the word muggle may have been a grave mistake as an awkwardness surrounded them. Years of memories both flooded their minds - the existence of muggles in the magical world is what nearly tore it apart. She worried that the slip of her tongue may have ended this conversation before it began. She chewed her lip and looked downward and Severus was surprised to find himself amused. It was the same motion she used to make when he called her out in class for her know-it-all conduct. 

“Miss Granger, if I may,” He spoke first, knowing she was likely about to excuse herself, “I taught at Hogwarts for many years and saw thousands of witches and wizards with varying levels of magical genealogy. As much as it pains me to admit, and I’ll deny it if ever asked again, I never once came across one that matched your brilliance or hunger for knowledge.” 

Hermione had to wet her mouth with more wine, dried in shock of such a compliment from this particular source.

“Professor,” She had to struggle with an appropriate response, “I dare say that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” 

“I suppose I’m getting soft in my old age,” He lifted his fire whiskey and just before it tipped back over his lips, there was an ever so subtle wink of his eye.

“It can be difficult to let your guard down,” Hermione glanced around the room before returning her attention to Severus, still somewhat mired in shadow, “It’s hard to know who to trust, or who’s just out to get something from you.” 

“I have more experience with the latter - which should easily explain my absence from such….festivities.” He glanced toward the lively, drunken bunches near the front of the bar.

“So why now? Why this year, Professor?” Hermione’s curiosity subdued her hesitance.

Severus swirled the base of his glass along the table top. His face was obstructed only by the long locks of lanky black hair that had surprisingly few greys among them. His sharp nose was still as prominent as ever, though his face wasn’t pursed nearly as much as it used to be. Perhaps his years of seclusion had brought him some peace.

“Curiosity, Miss Granger,” He motioned towards the barkeep as Hermione had nearly drained her glass, “Curiosity to see Hogwarts again, to see what’s become of my students,”

“Curiosity?” Hermione couldn’t helped but be amused at the thought of simple curiosity bringing him out into the public eye, “Congratulations, Professor, that’s a new one to me” 

“Are you calling me a liar?” He questioned as their glasses were filled. From a glance she could see a facetious nature to his query.

“Not at all, Professor,” Another sip added to the ones before were calming (or numbing) her nerves, “Just...surprised,”

“I wasn’t sure you’d accept my invitation, so considered us both surprised by the other.” He lifted his glass slightly, awaiting her to return the gesture.

“Do you take me for someone that rude?” She returned in a subdued jest, only pausing shortly before clinking her glass to his, “What are we drinking to?”

“New surprises from old acquaintances,” He answered after a short pause, “And not rude...perhaps forthright.”

“That I am guilty of without question.” She sipped the fresh glass.

“Oh I remember you, quiet well Granger.” Even if she hadn’t been the ever present partner of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, Severus imagined she still would have stuck out from her lack of shyness and her vigor for learning.

"You rarely missed an opportunity to call me out on it," her hand around her glass pointed a finger at him as she found herself falling into an oddly natural repartee. Odd, especially considering there was a time in her life where she viewed him as the enemy.

"It didn't appear to deter you," he noticed that his whiskey seemed to be going down much smoother in the company of someone. Perhaps this was a benefit of not drinking alone. Seveus found it difficult not to be amused as he cheeks stretched in a smile though he could tell she was trying to fight it.

“I suppose not, Professor.”  She still had that know-it-all look in her eye and though she knew the criticism when intended to inspire or shame her into subduing it, she still felt somewhat prideful in her acquisition of knowledge. His mouth crooked into a half smile of amusement. It was odd to be having a conversation as adults without the construct of student/teacher.

“It has been many years since I have entered a classroom, Miss Granger. I haven’t been your instructor for an even longer period. I believe at the present time, you are no longer obligated to address me as your superior.” He drawled, speaking over the top of his glass. 

“Old habits die hard,” She swallowed back the address of sir or professor, “That’s the only way I’ve ever known to address you. It definitely wouldn’t have done  to address you so informally before. I don’t doubt you would have been pleased with the lot of us Gryffindors referring to you as Sev or mate.” She joked, wondering if she could turn that half a grin into a whole one.

“You’re absolutely correct, Miss Granger,” He swirled the spicy libation in his mouth, “I would have been rather displeased.

“I do have a first name too, you can address me by it if I’m  allowed to address you by yours.” Hermione leaned forward a little, squinting her eyes with a peculiar amusement. She needed to see if he was game for such familiarity.

Severus sat in silence for a moment, resting his hand on the table as he sized her up in his mind. She was no longer the mousey, fresh faced child and student he’d first met. She was clearly a woman. The war and subsequent years had aged her as it had everyone else, but she did not fare as poorly as some. If anything she’d acquired beauty in her physical maturity. While her hair was still curly, she tamed it better now. She did not paint her face with anything too obtuse. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows on the edge of the table.

“Very well, Hermione,” Severus had to admit to himself that it felt odd saying her name out loud.

“That’s better, Severus,” Though in private, she and her friends had referred to him as Snape since nearly the moment they met him, there was a certain comfort she found in calling him by his name. Perhaps it was relief that she could view them as equitable instead of existing on two different planes.

Severus couldn’t help the quick, fleeting smirk on his lips, amused by her ability to change a pattern so easily. He decided not to let the moment linger. He was in need of any conversation outside of the internal dialogue that had been such a constant companion.

“So speaking of...Gryffindors…” He still grimaced, though Hermione found it comical, “How are those friends of yours?” His dark eyes were trained on her as he sipped again.

“We still leave that bad of a taste in your mouth?” She questioned, chuckling behind closed lips at his incredulous look, “I guess Slytherin’s and Gryffidor’s are just not made to see eye to eye?”

“In my experience, most of my interactions have been….unpleasant - current company excluded,” He was slow to the save, humored by the way her eyebrows lifted as if he would leave the insult as his last word.

“Nice save Prof- Severus,” She nodded, “I have to admit, I have occasionally thought of you over the years,” She hiccuped a little, “That is, wondering what you did to occupy your time.” She recovered quickly. 

“Have you now?” Of all the people she’d known, he would have thought given the circumstances that most of them rarely, if ever, thought of him, “After so many years playing a double agent and spending my career in the view of so many, I find that I prefer my privacy. I stay in my home, reading, writing, documenting,”

“Documenting?” She leaned her cheek into her palm, looking interested. 

“Yes. Though it was not my preferred subject, I did have a rather well adapted aptitude for potion-making. I developed many unique and novel substances even back to my own days at Hogwarts. I plan to release the formulas for a reasonable premium.” 

“Reasonable? But you’re Severus Snape; the man who lied bold faced to -Voldemort-” Hermione felt odd saying the name out loud, she hadn’t had to in so long, “Harry may have been the poster boy, but many see you as much of a hero as they do him.” She said matter-of-factly.

“That bold tone, that’s the girl I remember, Hermione.” He caught himself from referring to her as Miss Granger, “And I prefer not to label myself as such. I believe there are many that still despise me,” He took another sip and for a moment Hermione felt some pity for him, but mostly warm from his first chiding remark. 

“Well, regardless, I appreciate what you did. And you deserve a well earned drink on me,” She peered at his empty glass, not letting him refute her offer. She motioned towards the bar as a  decanter floated their way and refilled his glass, “I insist,”

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate, you buying me a drink. After all I’m an old man,” he eyed the drink, his mouth thirsting for another taste.

“You’re not that old,” She leaned forward as she spoke a little quieter, “In fact it looks like you’ve barely aged,” She noted his appearance, the last decade had been devoid of most of the stresses that had strained him so much before. 

“You’re attempting to flatter me, Hermione. I can’t on earth imagine why,” He toyed with her a bit, finally sipping his fresh fire whiskey.

“I resent the accusation that my politeness is anything but,” She was quick to match his wit, but there was also a teasing, sarcastic suggestion. Surely it was the wine speaking for her or at least prodding her in such a flirtatious direction.

“I believe you’ve had too much wine, Hermione,” He noted her once again empty glass. 

She smirked holding it up in the air to the side, not breaking her gaze from his. It refilled from the bottle, this time settling itself on the table rather than behind the bar. 

“Am I of age, Severus?” She challenged his assessment coyly.

“Yes, I believe you are,” His eyes couldn’t help but look her over and confirm for himself that his thoughts were well founded.

“Then let me worry about my own levels of intoxication. After all have you ever know me to be *hiccup* irresponsible?” Her words and her behavior seemed to be sending two very distinct but different signals. He lifted his brow in a moment of question, but he was feeling rather warm and fuzzy himself. What harm could it do to let a bit of his guard down around someone who seemed so interested in his company.

“I cannot recall such a time, but perhaps you should put a little more in  your stomach,” He pushed a plate of bread and cheese he’d barely touched towards her, “How is Potter these days?” He wanted to change the subject until her obvious buzz was a little more subdued.

“You really want to know about Harry?” She looked somewhat surprised, but continued without his confirmation, “He’s alright I suppose. Still with Ginny Weasley, they have Lupin’s boy and one of their own. He turns down public appearances on an hourly basis. Tough to be treated fairly when everyone either wants something from you or to treat you like a god.” 

“I know about the former, not so much the latter,” He pursed his lips as he heard the name of Harry’s wife, “I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised he stayed with that girl. She was the least insufferable of the lot, in my experience. How about your Weasley. The daft one.”

“Ohhh, I can tell you’ve been sitting on that question for a moment, haven’t you?” Hermione noticed that he seemed compelled to ask it more than willful, “We didn’t last long at all - after school. We went our separate ways and I don’t see much of him at all. I keep in contact with his mum more than any of them.” She watched as he took a drink, but through the arc of the glass, she could see him conceal and satisfactory smirk.

“What I shame, you two seemed to compliment each other well,” He offered with little conviction.

“Ha, you don’t believe that for a moment, Severus,” She chortled a bit, “we had a history, but in the end he turned out to be very wrong for me. I need someone with more, with more…” She struggled to describe what was missing.

“Maturity,” Severus answered with a slow enunciation, not at all questioning.

Hermione glanced at him again, but the shared gaze had a different energy to it, “Yes. That’s exactly it,”

Though a silence passed between them, it felt as if they were wordlessly communicating. There was no awkward air between them. 

“So, there’s been no one else to fill the,” his eyes flickered down as if in the subtlest of suggestions, “void?”

Hermione nibbled a bit of bread, wiping a cumb from her lip before shaking her head slightly. She struggled to speak for a few moments, resisting the urge to suppress her impulse. 

“No. No one has filled that void in ages...Severus,” She said suggestively, but felt an intense nervousness as she waited with baited breath for his reply. 

“That’s quite a shame,” He replied after a brief pause. Either an awkwardness would follow or she might-

“Yes, it is,” She looked at him with determination and agenda. Though the conversation had been finding its way to this point, it still surprised him that she was this bold.

“Being alone does have its disadvantages,” He set his glass down, no longer interested in being satiated by a substance. 

“Perhaps tonight,” She ran her nail along a ridge in the wood grain on the table before looking back up at him, “We throw our cautions to the wind and give this whole ‘not being alone’ a go,” 

She had no doubt that snogging in public was something Severus was very much against, so taking the initiative she stood from the quiet booth, noting that the bar was nearly empty. She walked with some stealth but still a natural gate to a wooden door that led behind the bar. She opened it slightly, enough only to slip past the gap and keep the old rusty hinges from screeching. She looked back towards him in a silent invitation.

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

Hermione waited in the room filled with wooden casks and crates of bottles, stacked upon wooden shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. She leaned her back against one such post, the anticipation did the job of sobering her a bit. At least if she was rejected, it wouldn’t be with an audience. Only a short time had passed (though it felt like eons) when she was startled by the door pushing open. Severus also passed through a gap only large enough for him to float through, still sporting the black robes she remembered over the black suit. 

They did not need to speak. Each knew why they were there. 

Hermione did not move from her spot, but her spine arched every so slightly that her chest jutted forward as the room echoed his footsteps and her controlled breath. He approached, standing mere inches from her, making it no secret that his eyes were taking in her form. 

She was the first to break the barrier of touch, her curious core aching for a reprieve of its neglect. Her palm rested against his chest, sliding upwards over his collar. Her fingers slid without pause over the lingering scars on his neck that his cloak normally concealed. She did not let it deter her and he returned the gesture with one of appreciation. 

The first kiss was soft as if gently testing the waters.

“Severus…” She whispered feeling his breath rolling across her tempted lips. 

The confirmation of her desire saw his return kiss much more feverish and impassioned. As if seduction had evaded him so long that he dared not let it slip between his fingers. She arched more as his hands passed around her waist to her back, pressing her body into his. Her arms were around his broad shoulders. The kiss was not sloppy, but not at all contained. The only parting was out of the shear need for air. 

“Let’s not waste time, Severus,” She slid her hands to her blouse, yanking it open so the buttons scattered across the room. Her chest heaved, only contained by her lacy brassiere. 

“You witches and your frivolous underthings,” He paused to look into her eyes only a moment before both hands grasped her breasts, squeezing and lifting them as she struggled between a groan and a gasp. Their lips were quick to meet again as he tugged the lace cups down roughly, exposing her breasts directly to his greedy grasp, “Its a shame to cover these at all,”

Severus pulled his lips from hers to let his eyes absorb the visual of her toplessness into his memory. They were perky, their containment unneeded. He lifted one swell to meet his descending mouth, his tongue impatient for the taste of her firm nipples. 

“Holy Merlin’s fuck!” Hermione let her fingers grip his signature black tresses. She didn’t pull them either which way, more or less just holding on to him, “Severus, you devil,” 

“On the contrary, Hermione,” He rose up, stopping a maddening inch from her face, “I believe you’re the devil in this scenario.” Still holding her attention, his hand reached for hers and pressed it firmly against the evidence of her perverse inspiration. She gripped around the rigid shaft, still encompassed by his trousers, but the rush of arousal between her own legs almost left her dizzy. She was thankful for the sturdy post behind her or she’d likely have fallen off balance.

“What torture for you, you poor thing,” She squeezed and palmed his member. She grinned while gnawing her lip, lowering herself by sliding down the post. She knelt her splayed legs at his feet, her hand moving to unfaster his trousers while her humored gaze peered back up at his still serious countenance. 

His angular jaw clenched and shifted as she revealed him, her hand almost surprisingly warm as it wrapped around his vein-laced, pulsing shaft. He noticed her eyes fell upon her prey and she studied it as she stimulated it as if applying a science to extracting his pleasurable nuances. Ever the scholarly approach, typical Hermione.

“It won’t bite, Hermione,” He teased with a taunting chuckle. His fingers were unable to grip into her hair, partially impaired from Nagini’s venom. Instead, his hand slid over the top of her head, gently pushing it back so it rested against the wooden pillar. He stepped closer as her lips lazily lay agape, her chin tilted slightly upward. Her eyes followed the tip of his cock as it prodded against her lips, tainting them with a sticky string of precum before slipping between them. 

Severus’s breath shuddered as he struggled to acclimate to the warmth of her willing mouth. He moved slowly, keeping a shallow depth as she kept submissively still. 

“What a good little witch,” He growled.

Hermione’s now free hands allowed her the freedom to stimulate herself; reaching between her splayed thighs, her skirt allowed her quick access. She couldn’t resist the throb of her own sex, keeping her touch gentle to keep from cumming too quickly. She was desperate for an orgasm, but would rather the first explosion be at the mercy of his penetration.

As his eyes closed and his head tilted back, Hermione took more of an active roll. Her lips tightened around his cock, her tongue wiggled in a slow, purposeful massage. She was thrilled to earn the groan that rumbled in his throat soon after. She gagged but did not relent as his hips pushed him a little beyond her tolerance.

“Hungry little thing, aren’t you?” He tried not to wheeze, but the invigoration of her oral stimulation was nearly impossible to overcome. His balls ached and twitched a little as he pulled himself away, her eager mouth fighting his retreat, “I’d toss those knickers if I were you.” 

Hermione was eager to work the stretched garment down her thighs and let them fall the rest of the way to the floor as she stood again, her hand too covetous to leave his member untouched. 

“Get that cock inside me, Severus, now,” She coolly demanded, her leg lifted, her thigh resting on his hip as her other hand pulled him closer by his collar. His dexterity may have deteriorated, but his own therapies had regained his strength. She giggled a little in surprise as he lifted her other leg, letting them grip around his waist tightly. She was trapped between him and the post as his shaft nestled itself between the lips of her dampened sex, “Severus!” she gasped impatiently.

Hermione groaned a moment later when his swollen glans slipped inside of her, the tip a temporary tease. Severus watched her face intently as he let her weight sink her helplessly. Though she stretched to accommodate him and her cheeks reddened from resisting the urge to cry out louder, he did not allow her more time to acclimate. He flexed his hips, the movement thrusting her upwards only so gravity could force her full of him again, the pleasurable dive escalating now with matching force.

She balled up her fists full of his shirt, her thighs gripping his waist with a surprising strength. Her sex ached from his invasion, but it was a delicious ache that stole her breath from her lungs and made her wish it would never end. 

Severus quickened his thrusts into a satisfying rhythm. It was paced enough to keep her sex constantly roused with pleasure, but not so quickly that it lacked apparent skill. 

“Sev,” Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed as she gasped, then bit the tip of her tongue, “That cock...is fucking magnificent,” 

He felt a tingle in his core, he hadn’t been called ‘Sev’ in years, but something about her husky tone made it a treat to his ear. 

“I was just about to say the same thing about this juicy cunt of yours, Hermione,” He seethed, his thrusts absorbed by her impaled sex. The post behind her did not cushion any of his plunging campaign. She was glad for it, she wanted to feel the entirety of his talent.

They only paused for a moment as the door opened, their drunken state a mix of alcohol and lustful intoxication. The barkeep paused in his tracks, carrying a crate of empty bottles.

“For fucks sake get lost,” Hermione slurred, her cunt completely full of his cock at the moment, “can’t you see someone’s shagging in here??” She barked at the shocked man, who quickly departed with a slightly frightened look on his face. 

“Such a feisty thing,” He was humored by her audaciousness, rewarding her with several quick strokes that pummeled her sex and drew a quivering release from her. She called his name in a raspy plea, slickening his cock so that it slid even more easily and quickly into her. 

Severus felt an overwhelming pleasure that his body had been devoid of for far too long and though he would have preferred to let it linger for hours, the time and place did not allow for such a reality. Perhaps his choice of partner added to his perversion. He leaned into her, pinning her tightly as his mouth latched on to her exposed neck. He suckled and nipped at the flushed flesh, crushing her breasts under the weight of his chest.

Hermione wiggled her hips, trying to match his movement. She tried to satiate the recurring tickle that burned inside of her sex. She chased the impending release with fervor, feeling his movements become more instinctual and primal. His breaths labored into almost gravely moans that matched his pace. 

“Severus….Severus!” She gasped as her release teetered on the edge, “Fuck...fuck! I’m cumming!” She finally exclaimed as the heated explosion swelled her core, making the pusing eruptions of his cumming cock even more pronounced and gratifying. 

Severus felt light-headed as his body’s concentration was on the orgasm that engulfed his being. Her cunt gripped his invading member with a possessive hold, still trembling with aftershocks. 

The room was filled with only the sound of weathered, heaving breaths, desperate to fill their lungs and restore their senses.There was a silent stare between them as her shaking legs released him and he helped her feet back under her. She straightened her skirt and brassiere, noticing a disappointed scowl as she covered her breasts. She only smirked, reaching for her wand as she repaired the buttons on her shirt. 

The bar was empty as they left, save for the barkeep who kept his gaze downturned as they passed. They parted ways with cordial ‘nice to see you again’s’, neither wanting to make awkward their peculiar evening.

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

The interaction did not leave either of their minds, though they continued about their individual lives as normal. Hermione continued her work alongside the department of International Magical Cooperation, travelling abroad to lands and sights that were thrilling and exciting. But even with her busy occupation, the moment of secret passion wove its way to the front of her thoughts often. 

One particular evening when the draw of self-indulgent pleasure was too prominent to resist, Hermione used that motivation to extend a greeting. She wrote a letter with careful intent and included an enchanted photograph as she folded and sealed it. She entrusted its delivery with a jet-black owl and set it off into the dark night.

The letter was delivered to its intended recipient as he continued his solitary work. His name scrawled in a feminine penmanship is what caught his attention first. When he flipped it over, Hermione’s initials impressed in the wax seal made excitement well up in his belly, though his exterior remained reserved.

Severus,

I very much enjoyed the chance to be in your company the other evening. And what exhilarating company it was. I hope my letter finds you well and please accept this photograph as a token of my admiration.

I look forward with a great deal of interest in our next ‘reunion’.

Warmest Regards,

Hermione

Severus smirked at the simple, concise letter. The smirk faded only slightly as he watched the enchanted photograph move before his very eyes. Though the border provided only a neck down view, the unbuttoning blouse slowly revealing a familiar lace and cleavage made no mystery of its subject. 

[themangledsans0508]

Entering the Dungeon because Bonnie said so

Read on Ao3

Summary: Marceline came to Bonnie's aide when she called for Finn and Jake. She didn't expect to be going down a hundred floors while dealing with a shady princess.

Basically, I played Enter the Dungeon over the past two weeks and I have been writing this since the second night of playtime. Trying to write things before I forget them and it is following the canon of the game with some creative liabilities taken.

Words: 3616, Oneshot

Warnings: General Depictions of Violence

Characters: Bonnibel Bubblegum, Marceline Abadeer, Flame Princess

Ships: bubbline

Additional Tags: quests, dungeons, childhood trauma, swearing, adventure, conflict, kind of resolved kind of not, I feel like marcy and phoebe would have a neat dynamic, I've never seen them interact so, some of these scenes were legit my reaction, see: screaming

"Well, it looks like Ice King will be hanging around the Candy Kingdom now," Bonnie sighed. Marceline glanced at the dark entrance to the dungeon and shrugged.

"It's better than down there. At least up here, he can't get hurt," she decided. Bonnie looked at the hole as well and then back to Marceline.

"Marcy, I think you should let the boys handle this one," she stated seriously. Marceline shifted the umbrella in her grip and unfolded her legs to touch the ground.

"Why? I'll be fine."

"Well, asides from the fact that you have been returning up here frequently covered in wounds and the fact that Death is seemingly hunting you down, those aren't just any ancient ruins down there."

"How bad can it be?"

"Mushroom war. If my associations are correct from the information you've given me, then the same city you used to live in” Marceline stiffened. "Finn and Jake can deal with this, you just take a breather, okay?"

"No," Marceline shook her head. "I can take care of it. Just some old relics, nothing a woman like me can't face." Bonnie eyed her warily.

"If you're sure," she said slowly. "Please be careful."

"Send me down, Bonnibel."

~

"What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck!" Marceline shrieked.

"Marcy are you okay?" Bonnie's crackly voice asked, her projection appearing from the holo-pendant. Marceline leaned against the stone wall, her breathing heavy staring at her punctured legs that were bleeding.

"Just fine," she said sarcastically. "Almost got staked by some rusty metal pipes. Bonnie, this is post-war technology. What did you do?"

"I have important research down there, I had to defend it at least a little bit."

"The thousands of lost souls weren't enough?"

“It’s to protect it from them,” Bonnie snapped. “If these criminals got their hands on it, the Candy Kingdom would be in danger.”

“Oh, yeah, if the political prisoners found evidence you were a corrupt leader then you’d be overthrown.”

“It’s a real threat!” Marceline rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. I wished my healing worked down here.”

“Bodily magic doesn’t work because some of those creatures down there have natural magical prowess.”

“Too bad that there are tons of magic weapons down here.” The spikes retreated and Marceline pushed herself up, floating slowly around with her axe prone and ready. “What about the plants?”

“They’ve mutated to become immune to the limitation,” Bonnie explained.

“Speaking of plants, there’s one now.”

~

Marceline felt the wind leave her body as she was knocked against the wall, the deer’s antlers puncturing her legs and it licked her.

“Gross! Back off!” She kicked the deer’s underbelly and pushed it off her, slamming her axe down on the deer’s neck. She shakily stood up and was grabbed, a muzzle rubbing against her neck. She hissed as she felt new instincts override her other ones. She pushed herself up and slid under the wolf, standing up to hit it with the neck of her bass causing it to recoil. She slashed across its chest and took a deep breath, stumbling towards the stairwell.

She watched as a green portal opened and Death stepped out, a brown satchel on his waist and he tipped his cap towards her.

“I see you,” he said and Marceline braced herself, taking in the area and how much space she had. She dashed to the left and hugged the wall, growling when she felt skeletal fingers wrap around her forearm. She was jerked backwards and she felt Death’s skull touch her cheek. She could practically feel the energy drained from her as she struggled before she finally got her arm out of his grasp.

She dived for the stairs and fell down them, at the bottom turning back to look. Death stood at the top and made finger guns towards her.

“Kiss of Death, baby.”

“Fuck you,” Marceline hissed.

~

“Bonnibel, how did you get lava down there,” Marceline asked as she watched the wounds heal. Bonnie handed her a vial of a purple liquid that she drank, whatever cursed her fading away.

“Various tunnels and educated usage of pressure and-”

“It was more rhetorical. But I did get burned. And stabbed. And shot. And kissed without my consent.”

“What? Who kissed you?” Bonnie exclaimed.

“Death. He was blocking the stairs so I tried to duke him but he caught me. I did manage to get down the stairs though.” Marceline tapped her cheek in the spot that Bonnie assumed she was kissed. “Good thing I’m already dead.”

“Death shouldn’t be hanging around in the dungeon,” Bonnie muttered. “It’s interfering with the mortal realm and not allowing the natural flow to keep order.”

“Well, you’re throwing people in a dungeon and barring magic. That messes with the natural flow,” Marceline pointed out.

“Shut up,” Bonnie snapped. “Have you found any signs of the hoomans?”

“None. I’m going to head back down though, I’ll find them.” Bonnie grabbed her wrist and locked eyes with her.

“Marceline, you’re getting close to a bad place. A place that you were nine-hundred ninety-nine years ago. I really think you should stay up here this time."

"Bonnibel, it will be fine. Send me down."

~

Marceline stared at the ruined food truck, a flood of emotions overwhelming her. She listened to the sea of growling and heard a soft humming mixed in. She picked up a rock and threw it at the truck, the old voice box still working. The red siren turned on, illuminating the maze in red light. Her breathing became unsteady and rapid when the oozers began to glow, and she spotted a hooman among them. The hooman saw her as well and started happily skipping towards her.

She took out her axe and started swinging at the oozers, their green insides spilling out onto the ground. When the hooman was close enough, she grabbed her wrist and bolted, bringing her to the fence and kicking open the gate. She looked over at Susan’s grateful face and to the entrance of the maze and sighed.

“I’m booked for this, aren’t I?”

~

“Marceline! Marceline are you okay?” Bonnie grabbed her arm and started looking over her body, circling her and checking over the exposed skin and where the clothes were ripped.

“Bonnie, I’m fine. I can’t believe they’re still down there.” Bonnie stopped and stepped back.

“I couldn’t get rid of them. If that green goop even touches you that’s it. I just thought if I buried them then that would be the end of it. How the hoomans even got down there I don’t know.”

“Probably something to do with that buff cat chick,” Marceline jabbed her thumb towards Susan.

“Maybe. I’ll ask her later. But Marcy, that one got really dicey. Everyone made it out safely, but you almost didn’t. That swarm could have easily overwhelmed you. Can you please let Finn and Jake take care of this? I really don’t want you to get hurt.”

“And I don’t want them to get hurt,” Marceline mumbled. “I’m the best choice for this. I can teleport back to the surface, I know how to fight, I’ve been in all these places before. Plus I can literally eat the red bullets.”

“If you insist,” Bonnie sighed. She pulled her necklace and started fiddling with it. “What floor?”

~

“Marce, that one was close. This is the seventh time,” Bonnie scolded. Marceline shrugged and leaned on her.

“I’m exhausted,” she complained. “Magic Man hit me with some bullshit.”

“A strength-sapping spell,” Bonnie murmured. She pulled a herb out of her bag and placed it on top of Marceline’s head. “Stand still,” she instructed and counted under her breath before removing it. “You need to rest for at least three hours.”

“No,” she slurred, backing up and swaying on her feet. “I can keep going. I just…” She started falling forward and Bonnie caught her, sighing.

“Will you just go take a nap or something?” she asked. Marceline groaned.

“Don’t let anyone else go in there. I can deal with this myself,” she ordered and Bonnie pushed her back, keeping one hand on Marceline’s shoulder and crossing over her chest.

“Cross my heart,” Bonnie smiled. Marceline raised her umbrella in the air.

“I am going to the corner,” she announced and wandered off towards Choose Goose.

~

“Marceline, things are looking really dangerous. You keep having to retreat back up here,” Bonnie said softly. Marceline shrugged.

“Whatever, I’m still making it out,” she stated. Bonnie crossed her arms.

“You almost aren’t,” Bonnie scolded. “Do you want some help?”

“Bonnibel Bubblegum fighting in a dungeon? I don’t know.” Bonnie rolled her eyes.

“No, a token per se. Something that’ll protect you.” Marceline shook her head aggressively.

“No. I don’t need any help. None! Send me down!”

“If you say so,” Bonnie sighed.

~

“Will you accept my offer now?” Bonnie asked, placing her hands on her hips. Marceline put a hand on her forehead and clenched her jaw.

“Fine. Yes. What do you have.”

“Pep-but! Grab the sweater!” Bonnie called. Peppermint Butler came running with a knitted pink sweater folded in his arms. “Thanks, Peps. Marcy, arms up.” She took the sweater from his arms and held it. Marceline used her free hand to motion towards herself.

“Umbrella.”

“You have telekinesis.”

“Oh, yeah.” She let the umbrella float above her slightly higher and she raised her arms. Bonnie slid it carefully over her head and adjusted her collar. Marceline scratched at it.

“This is tight, Bons,” Marceline complained. Bonnie smiled shyly.

“It’s made of the strongest magic out there,” she said quietly. Marceline quirked an eyebrow.

“O-kay. I thought you thought magic was a sham.” She tugged at the hem of it and frowned, her eyes narrowing at Bonnie. “Why can’t I take it off?”

“Well, you see, I had a feeling you might try to take it off, and for your own safety, I may have had it engineered so that you couldn’t take it off until you were in a sound state. Since you’re going back in, it recognizes that you are going to be in harm’s way.”

“I should have known there’d be a catch,” Marceline grumbled.

“It’s in your best interest,” Bonnie stated.

“That doesn’t make it right. Look, I’m just going back down. I’m getting to the bottom of this.”

~

Marceline carefully pulled the pink sweater over her head and slid it over the umbrella handle.

“I’m not putting that back on,” she growled and sighed. “Everything is covered in your gum down there, you’ve been having fun without me? And since when did you have a giant pink cat thing and a huge gryphon eagle thing?”

“Goliad and Stormo? I’m glad they’re still balancing each other out.”

“I’m not getting an explanation? I should’ve expected that.”

“Also, I’m sorry but your corner is occupied now. I thought you could all use a break from the dungeon and while you may not enjoy the opportunity, the Nightosphere offered a challenge for anyone who felt so inclined. Maybe while everyone does that you can rest?”

“Why are you pushing me to slow down? I’m in my groove right now. You’re not my mom,” Marceline snapped.

“I’m not trying to be your mom! I care about you and I’m worried you’re pushing yourself too hard!”

“Well geez, it’s nice of you to care after all this time! I know my limits! I’ll show you! I’m going to the Nightosphere!”

“Marceline!”

“Don’t come after me,” she snapped and stalked off. Bonnie hugged herself and grimaced.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

~

“Are you going to calm down now?” Bonnie asked. Marceline kicked the dirt angrily.

“No. But I think I give up for now. That whole jam is ridiculous. There’s so much going on at once. I think the normal chaos is what I prefer right now. You know, I think it’d be cool if you came down too.” Bonnie shifted uncomfortably.

“Someone needs to stand guard here.” Marceline motioned towards the banana guards to either side.

“Found two,” she pointed out.

“It has to be me,” Bonnie insisted. She leaned over and whispered so only Marceline could hear. “You know how incompetent these guys can be.”

“Whatever you say P-Bubs.”

~

“So, how’d Flame Princess get locked down there, in the lab that belongs to you trapped in a machine you made.” Bonnie shrugged.

“No idea.”

“You can’t keep trying to ruin Finn’s relationship, girl. It’s an unhealthy obsession.”

“It’s not an obsession, it’s a coincidence! It’s a coincidence that she got trapped in my machinery

“You aren’t confirming it or denying it.”

"I don't need to. I'm not that cruel a woman that I would trap a child for a science experiment."

"Actually-"

"Don't." Bonnie held a finger out to stop Marceline from continuing. "There's no reason for me to lock Flame Princess up, especially when she herself is the biggest threat to the Candy Kingdom. It isn't wise to poke the bear with a stick, you know what I mean?"

“Yeah, I guess. She really wants to join the travel party now, so she might still be gunning to destroy the kingdom.” Bonnie placed a nervous hand on her cheek and glanced warily towards Flame Princess, who appeared to be trying to explain something to Finn.

“Could you keep an eye on her?” Bonnie asked.

“I’m not a babysitter,” Marceline snapped and sighed, “but yeah, I guess. I’d rather all of Ooo not be lit on fire. I’ll take her with me.” Bonnie smiled gratefully. “Anything I need?”

“I recommend a fire-resistance charm, in case you get caught in the crossfire.” Marceline nodded and dropped some gold in her hand. “I’ll use the charm, and that armour Finn hates too. Also, let Flame Princess use whatever token she wants, I don’t care.”

“Flame Princess! Marceline wants you to come with her!” Bubblegum shouted and the teen came running, small fires dotting her every step.

~

“That was exhilarating! So many things happening at once, so many creatures and questions! I knew that Bubblegum was no good!” Phoebe exclaimed.

“Hey, cut her some slack. She’s been at this for a long time,” Marceline growled. Flame Princess looked at her in confusion.

“You can’t honestly look at all this and tell me she’s not evil or at least bad. Look at all this stuff! Living beings forced to stay down here to the rest of their lives. Why? Is what they did really bad enough to deserve this?”

“Yes!” Marceline snapped. “And you don’t know Bonnie like I do.”

“Well, how do you know her so well?”

“I know her so well because-”

“You have done well to come this far,” A voice echoed, startling both girls. Marceline and Phoebe both looked to the speaker.

“Bonnie? What are you doing all the way down here?” Marceline asked.

“Something evil I bet,” Phoebe spat and Marceline whacked the back of her head, ignoring the burning sensation. Bonnibel frowned.

“This is my dungeon,” she said plainly. “And this room is the bottom of it. So, great job! You can go home now, back to the surface or whatever.”

“I don’t think so. There’s probably something in here that you’re hiding,” Phoebe hissed. Marceline raised an eyebrow.

“This doesn’t make sense. What’s down here, Peebs?” Bonnie chuckled nervously.

“Nothing! This is the bottom. That’s it. But just to be safe,” she glared discreetly at Phoebe “I need you to promise me you will not touch my desk back there. It has important research on it that you could mess up. This could be your final quest in this adventure, just promise me. Royal promise. No touchies.”

“I’m not promising anything,” Marceline insisted. Bonnie shook her head.

“You have to.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine! Whatever!” Marceline threw up her arms in defeat. Bonnie smiled. It wasn’t one of her normal smiles, not one of the ones Marceline was used to. It was empty and cold. Her eyes were unreadable.

“I think we’re done here then. Thank you for solving the mystery.” Marceline looked her up and down and walked past her, looking down at the table. Phoebe walked up beside her and glanced at Marceline.

“These papers are unreadable,” she whispered. Marceline absentmindedly picked up one of the papers, seeing the words were faded and the pictures were half-erased. Then the wall in front of them opened, showing a dark pink gum tunnel.

“Are you serious? What the fuck is wrong with you! Where does this even go?” Marceline shouted. She spun around to face Bonnibel and scowled at the expression on her face. An expression she hadn’t seen in centuries, since they had broken up. Her eyes were narrowed and she had a slight frown. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her and she straightened her back to look at them like she was above them.

You’ll never know where it goes,” she said slowly, “you broke a royal promise. And you know what that means. I’m sorry girls, it’s business.” Marceline saw out of the corner of her eye a fireball that Phoebe had thrown before they both teleported above the kingdom, standing on a cotton candy cloud and looking up at the Gumball Guardians.

“I told you,” Phoebe shouted. Marceline growled and readied her axe.

~

“Well, at least I’ll get a metal song out of this,” Marceline mumbled. Phoebe scoffed.

“You’re thinking about music? I’m thinking about revolution!” Her hands lit up and she prepared to attack before Bonnibel ran out in front of them.

“Wait! You don’t understand! I know this thing looks like a monster, but you have to listen to me! It doesn’t want to hurt you! It just-” A gum tentacle swung out and grabbed her, causing both Marceline and Phoebe to jump back.

“Bonnie! You’re not getting out of this that easily!” She lunged forward only to get hit in the face with a metal ball, knocking her back. Phoebe dragged her to her feet.

“Think smart!” She barked.

~

Marceline was angry at Bubblegum, but seeing everyone else rail on her for something she herself had done as well, made her get a bit protective. She’d deal with the lying later.

“Wouldn’t you lie to protect your weird old parents too?” Marceline snapped. She floated down and wrapped her arms around Bonnie’s shoulders, glaring at the entire crew. She glanced at Bonnie for a split second and saw her small smile and she flashed one back. She was still holding her when the mass of gum began to separate.

~

“Thanks for helping me out, I do wish you could’ve done it without killing my parents though,” Bonnie said. Marceline raised an eyebrow.

“They aren’t dead. We can go catch them if you want.”

“No, no. They’ll come back if they want,” Bonnie sighed. “Marceline, come inside. I want to speak with you privately.”

“Okay, sure.” Marceline followed her up the candy steps and through the winding halls, ending in Bonnie’s room. She motioned towards the bed.

“Sit down,” she ordered and Marceline obliged, sitting down with her arms crossed. “I want to apologise to you.”

“For what? For sending me on a wild goose chase? For trying to get your gumball guardians to murder me? For lying to me and tricking me? For literally putting all of us in mortal danger? Which one is it?” Marceline snarled. Bonnie winced.

“All of that, listen, Marceline, I didn’t want to do all that! But responsibility demands sacrifice and the cost kept escalating. I didn’t expect it to get so out of hand before it was already there. I was running out of ways to stop you.”

“Maybe the best way to have stopped me would have been to tell the truth? Did you ever consider that?” Marceline snapped. “Everyone could have died, get that through your thick skull! All of us could have died!” She stood up and sat back down, pinching the bridge of her nose and taking deep breaths. “I don’t even know how long it’s been, all I know is you haven’t changed a bit. You put your own pride over the actual lives of other people.”

“Marceline-”

“No, Bonnie, listen. It’s been like this for centuries. It’s exhausting. I had thought you were different now. I really did. But I guess old habits die hard.”

“I’m trying to change. I really am Marcy. I just- I was scared. You know what it’s like to have to face the potential of losing your parents. You know what it’s like to lose them. I don’t. I just had to come head-to-head with it today. It’s not okay that I did all that, but I panicked,” Bonnie rambled. Marceline stood up and shook her head.

“I’m going home. I have a killer headache and I’m tired. I got up to come help and I did, so my job’s done.” She rubbed her temple and walked to the door, reaching for the handle only for her hand to be grabbed.

“I’m sorry. I want you to know that. I really am sorry.” She hesitated. She looked to Bonnie and inhaled sharply. She did look remorseful, but sometimes remorse was not enough.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” she mumbled. Bonnie looked away.

“I understand.” She quickly hugged Marceline and backed away, walking to filter through her closet. “It’s okay if you never forgive me. I wouldn’t blame you.”

“I’ve forgiven you for worse,” Marceline stated. “But this one will take me a bit. I’ll text you eventually.” She strolled out and narrowly avoided Peppermint Butler who was coming into the room, getting called some harsh words as she opened her umbrella to make her way home.

[lachlann-macnab]

Task #16 Jukebox Musical/TV or Movie Soundtrack: come up with a playlist of at least 10 songs, write a scene summary to go with each one. Disclaimer under the cut.

Disclaimer: I, once again, decided to abuse the system. Nowhere on the prompt does it say that the scenes have to be related to a character I have, that's why I present to you: "The prompt, but short stories done with characters Jean would love to write but doesn't have the time to actually have".

Also, weeb rights.

*King  (English cover) -Will Stetson John Kingsbury 

Watch your back no warning warning Taking all my stress there's only just one thing to do Brace yourself for all my love's attack now Left side right side Bear your fangs it's time to fight Pa - pa - pa parade in shame tonight Left side. Right side. Bear your fangs and come alive Pa- pa - pa, Hah! You are king!

Mother always did like Richard best. 

Screw that, everyone always did like Richard best, even John liked his brother more than he liked himself. Even so, when he had been declared MIA during a mission with The Order, John quickly became the first option (the only option) for everyone -he was on cloud nine.

His new comrades didn't quite like him, but John didn't quite mind since he'd make sure that by the end of that year they'd be kneeling to him. Just  like he'd make sure that Richard never, ever came back, even if that meant making allies with a certain policeman and some Magicks whose information he'd make sure to erase from The Order's databases.

Pa, pa- pa Hah! He was (finally) King!

*La mer - Julio Iglesias cover  Basil Rathbone 

Mrs. Judson would have never expected to hear Julio Iglesias, of all things, coming from the flat. It was a strangely cheerful song for someone like Basil to hear, being the snob (not only musical, but general snob) he'd always been.

She was unsure about whether she really wanted to open the door, suddenly afraid of what she might find on the other side. Sometimes Basil would be immersed reading files upon files upon files, sometimes he would be languishing on the sofa while staring blankly at the roof, sometimes he would be walking around while talking to himself in a very obvious bout of mania -he was a wild card, that Basil, and the fact that she simply couldn't guess what he'd do next always worried her.

Worried as she was, she opened the door.

She found Basil staring at the portrait that hung just above the chimney, just...watching it. 

"I have always quite admired Le Carré's works" Basil merely said, without even looking at Mrs. Judson and instead keeping his attention on his own personal Karla while the song went on and on, silently hurting in all of the right places.

*Everybody loves me - OneRepublic  Kuzco Apaza

Get down, Swaying to my own sound Flashes in my face now All I know is everybody loves me Everybody loves me

Kuzco was on a roll. 

He felt the stares as he made the street his personal catwalk and kept (very loudly) chatting with his lawyers on the other side of the phone. The sun was shining surprisingly strongly that day (surprisingly for that side of the world, that is), it's rays hit his jewelry and clothes and made him shine almost as strongly as the star itself.

There was no way anyone could ignore him. And he couldn't blame them -he was fabulous! A gift of the gods themselves, almost as brilliant as the sun and twice (no, thrice) as charming!

...and he was shouting his plans to build a waterpark on Atlantis Lake. And, sure, people didn't seem to love the idea quite yet, but...?

At least they were staring. And they'd eventually learn to love him.

*Dramaturgy (English cover) - Will Stetson Hans Westergård 

All alone now no one’s looking, act out in greed deceiving all their eyes But there’s no real me that You’ll find if you believe and I can’t find a single role that showed what’s really there to see

He caught the eyes of his reflection by accident.

Hans had tilted his head and his eyes had almost immediately found his own reflection against the showcases, making him forget about his date (what was her name again? He couldn't, for the life of him, remember that but he certainly did remember how much her net-worth was and which medicines she needed to take at what hours of the day, just like her previous beau had needed to do before the "accident" had happened) and focus instead on his own eyes.

The thing is...he couldn't find anything in there; The baby blue went on and on but there was nothing beyond- behind it-

-when he moved his gaze, however, he found that he was smiling even if he didn't felt like it. And that his carefully selected clothes looked as they had been designed just for him to wear (and they had), and that his globed hands were still holding his date's recent purchases inside the yellow bag even if he found every item utterly tacky and a ridiculous expense.

He was smiling and looking good and doing perfectly. So why did finding his own gaze him the same effect as placing a mirror in front of another, creating a ever going loop of emptiness?

Was he not playing his part correctly? What could possibly fill that void?

*My Neighbor Totoro/Azumi Inoue Music Box ver - R3 Music Box Totoro Seishin 

Totoro decided to take a nap under the sun while Chu and Chibi were busy playing with some squirrels. It was a sunny day and there was no place he'd rather be but outside, basking and feeling the grass under him.

At one point, however, he felt some extra weight on him. He didn't feel like moving or particularly offended by something deciding to lay on him, it was just amusing.

He couldn't be bothered to open both eyes, so he only opened one, finding a sleeping girl against his chest as if that was the most normal thing to do.

He smiled, closed his eye and decided that was quite fine by him.

*Delusion Girl - Oktavia Cover (TW Suicide and Mental Illness) Bernard Newhart

Every hero knows when they’re needed, so, that’s just what he’s born to be A man who manages throwing out his hand, Who doesn’t care if his own life is spared Such a feat like that, it’s a selfless act only completed in dreams And it stays like that for me With a crash I’m trapped back in reality

Bernard wanted to help, he really did. He just...didn't always know how. Nor did he know if it really matter.

His partner always seemed to be five steps ahead and the Australian she'd taken a fancy to was just like her, if not a couple of steps ahead of even her. And it made Bernard feel like a third wheel, to question if he was really doing something worthy, if he had done something, anything sufficiently good ever and-

-he caught the girl's cellphone before she ever noticed it had slid out of her hands. And soon enough he was getting hugged and receiving many 'thank you's and- and maybe that was enough?

*The Lost One's Weeping (English Cover) - Will Stetson (TW   Depression) Martin Ambrosius (Merlin)

And no matter how much time passes us by, We’re drunk on sweet and hypnotic lies. With all our sources of hardened pride We try to erase and hide now

Martin would always act indignant at the question, and would always reply with a 'I am under no obligation to use my magic to explain or prove anything to the likes of you'.

He was Merlin's blood, for fuck's sake! He didn't have anyone to prove anything to save for maybe the Once and Future King himself!

Oh how he hoped, deep, deep inside, that he would never wake, that he would never ask any questions, that he would never do anything but keep dreaming his mythical dream and let him live his unmagic life.

He was a showman, he loved smoke and light and mirrors, he could fool anyone, anytime -but he knew that wouldn't be enough if (when) the time came, that the Once and Future King would need an actual advisor, an actual wizard.

He prayed that day never came to pass.

*When you're evil - Aurelio Voltaire Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz

It gets so lonely being evil What I'd do to see a smile Even for a little while And no one loves you when you're evil I'm lying through my teeth! Your tears are all the company I need

"Ah, Perry the Platypus! Don't shake too much or you'll make the laser sharks angry and- no, hey! the insurance doesn't cover laser damage to the roo- yeah, that's better thank you. You might be wondering what this is all about- you see, noone has decided to play ME so far so- BEHOLD, THE HEINZ DOOFEN-INATOR! (patent pending) WITH THIS DEVICE I SHALL HIJACK ONE UNLUCKY ROLEPLAYER'S DRAFTS AND SLOWLY BUT SURELY CONSUME THE WHOLE THING THEN THE OTHER POSTS ON THE DASH, THEN THE WHOLE BEING DISNEY PAGE, THEN- HEY! HEY, DON'T DO THA- I'M NOT DONE WITH MY EVIL MONOLOGUE!"

*DEAD HAND - anakin ft. IA English (Ferry Cover)  (TW  Nuclear Warfare mention) Major Francis Monogram

Oh this is overwhelming, time for the iron curtain call The panic is seeping through the fractured border wall My livid heart powers this reactor core “Oh this is all wrong” but I don’t mind at all Turn up the volume, execute the protocol You know it’s M.A.D. and it’s all about to blow What an unfortunate way to end this show I shed a tear as you vanish in the snow

Francis had zero interest in dealing with anyone's shit (save for his own or his son's, that is) ever again; He'd done his time and the whole thing during the fucking Cold War had done a number on his nerves.

He still could remember how all seemed lost, an adequately mad situation (of Mutually Assured Destruction, that is) had come to pass and everyone in the HQ was losing his mind and running around like a bunch of headless chickens-

-until he very calmly pressed a couple of buttons and the thing was ok once more. Some people cried, some people laughed, some people shouted.

(Dramatic bitches, all of them. They didn't have to cause a scene just because of the fucking coffee machine)

That was one of many situations that made him love his retirement and not want to let go of it.

*Gasoline - Halsey (Captain) John Silver

You're part of a machine, you are not a human being With your face all made up, living on a screen Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline

'Phantom limb pain' sounded way cooler than it actually was. Silver would rather call it 'a pain in the ass' any day, but that'd be a misnomer since what hurt was his stupid (lack of) arm and not his ass and he was not risking some smartass trying to make a joke about his butt, thank you very fucking much.

Like, fuck, 'phantom pain' could be a sick name for a metal (heh) band. And hiding things inside his prosthetic was one of the few perks the whole thing offered, just like the fact that he could smack people with the thing without having to bother about hurting himself or dealing with that pain.

However, during that cold night he couldn't think of any possitives about the damned thing and cursed his rotten luck, his (lack of) arm and the thoughts that came along with them.

[willow-salix]

F, Y and Z please from the writer ask list

You're getting me back for mine, aren't you? Lol

F- How long have you been writing fan fiction? Since around 2009, I wrote one mega fic which was around 60k long and was a complete book re-write of a true blood book. Then role play fan fiction for years until I got brave enough (or stupid enough) to do TAG.

Y- What is your favourite genre to write?

Paranormal romantic comedy is my genre. Mostly funny fluff with a dash of angst sprinkled in now and then to shock people into remembering that I can be serious now and then.

I guess for me writing is escapism so I like it to be mostly happy so I'm happy writing it. I tend to take on my characters feelings while writing it and writing too much drama and whump can make me depressed and it's harder for me to write, I get bogged down. The whumpy, emotional chapters are the hardest for me and take longer because I have to pace myself and do then bit by bit so I don't get too sad or low.

Z: Post an excerpt from your first fic or your last. Well you've just read my last, so let's see if I can dig out any of my first... Its gonna be awful...

OK, backstory of the book is that some witches came to cause trouble and put a spell on the local head vampire, Eric. In the original book it was Sookie that found him, but obviously I changed it so that a witch could be involved, that and I totally love Eric (I obviously have a bit of a thing for blondes that I didn't realise). This is from chapter 4, it's first person, I hate it, but I think we can kinda see where Selene got her sarcasm.

I was driving along at a good pace when a new song came on the stereo, I smiled as it was one of my favourites ‘Somebody’s out there’ by Triumph. I was singing along when my eyes caught a flash of movement in the distance.

I slowed the car down a little and looked more closely, waiting for the animal or whatever it was, to jump out into the road in front of me.

What I didn’t expect to see was the sight of a half naked, very tall man, running like crazy down the side of the road. I stopped the car as quickly as possible and jumped out.

I called out to the running figure, noting that he had long blonde hair and was very pale.

‘Hey there mate, are you ok?’ He whirled around and faced me, standing in a crouched position. He had huge white fangs glistening in the moonlight. I gasped in shock. It was Eric.

‘Hey Eric, calm down sweetie, it’s just me. It’s Tansi.’

I opened myself up and tried to feel what he was thinking. I was shocked to pick up confusion, fright and nervousness. Why the hell was Eric scared of me?

‘Are you ok darling?’ I took a step closer to him with my hand outstretched to him.

He seemed to think for a second and then stood up out of the crouch; his fangs withdrew a little but not quite.

‘Do I know you?’ He asked quietly.

‘Of course you know me, you doughnut.’

‘Who am I?’ Oh Goddess I though, is he for real? Does he not know me? Did that explain the confusion?

‘Eric, sweetie, what happened to you?’ I stepped closer still and he didn’t move away this time.

‘Who is Eric?’

Oh lordi, what was going on?

I was shivering in the cold and realised that Eric must be colder than I was; he wasn’t wearing a shirt or coat and didn’t appear to have any shoes either.

I sighed making up my mind in that one instant; I would have to take him home with me.

‘Come on babe, you are coming home with me, I can’t leave you out here on your own, you’ll freeze and you don’t seem to know who you are, let alone how to get back home’. I closed the distance between us and took his hand, he gripped my hand like it was a lifeline and allowed me to lead him to my car.

His hand was very cold and he had goose bumps on his arms and chest, his nipples were very erect and seemed to be watching me. I shook my head to clear my, slightly naughty, thoughts and took off my cape and draped it around his shoulders and wrapped it around him as close as possible. It was way too small on him but would do.

I got him in the car and did up his belt. He looked me straight in the eyes.

‘Do I really know you, do you really know me?’ He looked so lost, the

poor lamb. I impulsively gave him a half hug as I finished doing up his seatbelt.

‘Yes I really know you, and you really know me’. I shut his door and went round to my side and started the car. While I was getting myself sorted out he was staring at me very intently.

‘Did you call me Eric?’

‘Yes that’s your name’

‘And yours was Tansi?’ He frowned a little at the strange sound of my name.

‘Yes Tansi, its short for Tanzanite’.

‘It is a very beautiful and unusual name’. He gave me a small smile, so

I gave him a very big one in return.

‘Well Thank you, I don’t like it much, but it can grow on you’.

We drove in silence for a bit longer before I gave into my curiosity.

‘Eric, what were you doing out here, and why don’t you remember me?’

Eric seemed to shrink into the seat a little.

‘I don’t know, I don’t even know who I am’. Oh shit, I thought, this is very bad indeed.

‘Well try not to worry too much babe, I’ll look after you’. We were pulling up to my house now. I parked and came round to open his door. I held out my hand and was relieved when, after a moment’s hesitation, he put his hand in mine. I curled my fingers around his and gave a little pull to get him out of the car. I kept his hand in mine as I lead him into my house. He hesitated but I pulled a little more firmly.

‘Come on. Eric, I want you to come in with me and be safe and warm.’

My words had the desired effect and he followed me into my living room.

I flipped on the lights and finally got a good look at him. I didn’t like what I saw. He was wrapped in my too small cloak, and appeared to be only wearing a pair of filthy jeans. His hair was dirty and matted with Goddess knows what. I sighed and held out my hand to him again.

Come with me’ I lead him to my bathroom and started the shower.

‘You get undressed and get in while I get you some towels, I wont be long’ I turned to give him some privacy when he grabbed my hand.

‘Don’t go, stay with me’ Eric looked so lost that I melted.

‘Ok stay there for just a minute I’ll be right back, I promise’ I patted his hand and extracted myself slowly from his death grip on my arm.

Thankfully he let me go.

I ran to my bedroom and grabbed some towels from the linen closet, an old pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt I used as a nightdress and as an after thought, rummaged in my bottom draw for last years bikini, just in case.

I ran back and found him in exactly the same place he was when I had left. I was a little worried at how much he seemed to cheer up when I stepped back into the room.

‘Come on now babe, slip out of those dirty jeans and jump in the shower, I want to get you clean’. I eeped and quickly span round to face the door as he took me literally and dropped his trousers onto the floor.

‘Come in with me’ he pleaded. I sighed.

‘Ok get in and I’ll be right back’. I stepped out the door and quickly shucked my dress and pulled on the bikini. This was not the way I had thought I would be getting Eric in my shower with me, but there was no way

I was going to take advantage of this troubled man in the room behind me.

I stepped back into the bathroom. He was in the shower just standing under the spray, he looked up as I got into the shower behind him. I was pleased to note that he looked a little disappointed that I wasn’t as naked as him.

‘Now no funny stuff’ I warned him as I reached for the soap and began to wash him all over. My fingers seemed to sink into the thick muscles of his back and I had to tell myself very firmly to keep my mind on the job as I fought the urge to lick his back.

He sighed as I worked the soap over his shoulders.

When his back was as clean as it was going to be and I had managed, with a lot of prayers for prizes for good behaviour, to carefully avoid looking at his fabulous butt to closely (a quick glance was all I did, I promise), I turned him around and began to work on his chest. The air left my lungs in one big whoosh as my hands slid over his nipples and down over his stomach. I took my hands away, afraid that I would lose my self control in one feel swoop in about 10 seconds time.

‘You can finish off while I have a wash’ I handed him the soap and turned my back and concentrated on washing off the smell of the bar from my skin. I gave him a few minutes more and then turned round to face him.

I risked a quick glance down and almost felt my knees collapse when I saw just how happy he was to be in the shower with me. My girl pride picked up a notch but I squashed any thoughts of reaching out and feeling just how happy, and grabbed the shampoo from the shelf.

‘Turn around’ I commanded and when he did I reached up and applied a generous amount onto his hair. I rubbed it in gently, taking my time working it through the tangles and getting all the dirt out, until it was squeaky clean.

I helped him rinse the soap out and then set to work on my own. He reached out to help me, but I pushed him gently away. I love having my hair played with and I knew that if he turned those big, sexy hand loose on me, I would never be able to leave him alone, and he would find himself on the floor with a pair of very long legs, attached to one very horny woman, wrapped firmly around his waist. He looked a little put out but allowed me to finish on my own.

I turned off the water and got out, wrapping myself in a big fluffy towel. I handed one to Eric and watched as he wrapped it around his waist, leaving his chest bare, wet and very inviting. I had to take a deep breath. I have a thing about bare, wet men that was not helping my resolve.

I grabbed the clothes I had picked up for him and practically shoved them into his arms.

‘You get dressed and I’ll meet you in the kitchen’ I squeaked out, my voice a little high. I turned away and scuttled out the door to my bedroom to get dressed into the frumpiest pyjamas I owned.

Gahhhhh I cringe! I cringe so much! This is awful, Wills! What have you done? Do you want some crackers with that cheese? Fucks sake.

[rirah1writes]

When pieces fall together.  Chapter one: No Cap (no pun intended)

SUMMARY: Gathering intel goes wrong, running for too long puts stints in your side, and meeting a hot guy at the bar is a PERFECT distraction from work. (Plus no cap, you love ballcaps.)

 A/N: Soo I decided I wanted to start a series.. No smut (yet) even though that's my usual forte. Feeling adventurous. First chapter in this series so its just a lot of character and plot development..Don’t worry I’ll build up to the good stuff! Hope ya’ll like it(: <3

WARNINGS: hOt bar MaKeOuT sesh! some violence, mentions of death. (uhh that's it)

 Your brain was screaming at you to stop. Your muscles aching as you struggled to keep striding. There was no way you could stop now, or you wouldn't ever see her again. Or any of your family for that matter. A flash of her perfect smile and golden blonde hair flashed through your mind, keeping your legs moving as fast as you could make them. “I’m going to make it home to you Ella.” you huffed. You were trying to convince yourself more than anyone at this point, silently promising her as if she could hear you. 

   You briefly glanced over your shoulder rounding a corner to see how close they were, two men still bounded after you, maybe twenty yards away and closing. “FUCK...” you panted. You wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer, outrunning two grown men was becoming a quickly retired plan, you would have to think outside of their range if you wanted to make it out of this. You jumped a concrete barrier through a construction zone and somehow ended up in Kuta Square. There were plenty of tourists around, and you had bought yourself at least a minute or two of time before the assailants caught back up to you. 

   Indonesia was supposed to be an easy job. Gather intel from the informant, hell, the meeting had even been set up for you prior. But when a bullet darted through the window and through his neck barely missing you, not much was left to do but to grab what files you could and dash. Had it been a set up, or was there a mole in the agency that had tipped them off? You didn't know, shit you didn't even know who was perusing you right now but you didn't care. All that mattered was getting to safety, and securing the intel. 

   You slowed and pulled your hair back into a low pony tail, attempting desperately to change your appearance. You tied up your T-shirt in the front. “I need a fucking cap..” you mumbled to yourself, scuttling through the crowd as fast as you could. You spotted a bar that was playing live music, people were crowded out the front, drinking and hanging out, sounds of laughter filling the air. You slipped past the crowd, hostiles were nowhere in sight, but you didn't let yourself breathe easy as you entered the bar. The music seemed to be rattling the whole building and the lighting was poor, perfect place to hide.

   You pushed your way to the back of the building and posted at a bar stool that allowed you a direct line of sight to the door and a direct line of escape through the back hall. Heart still pounding, you ordered and amaretto sour and sipped it attempting to calm yourself down. “Here with someone?” A voice made you choke on your drink, as you turned to see a handsome man with beautiful brown curls pushed back by a black ballcap. He was dressed nicely, black tee hugging his muscular upper arms, dark jeans, and black boots. He was certainly breathtaking. 

   Then you realized who he was. “Oh my..fuck..I’m sorry.” you chuckled, attempting to wipe the dribble of coke and whiskey from your chin. He smiled back at you “No, I’m sorry I didn't mean to startle you.” he laughed handing you a napkin. “Umm.. No! I’m here alone actually. I’m here for work, well..not at the bar for work obviously..In Indonesia!” he still had his cool smile across his cheeks, how was he making you, the smoothest talker known to the CIA and MI6, a flustered mess. 

   “Interesting, well if you’d like some company, can I buy you a drink, or your next drink?” He took a seat next to you, abandoning his friends that were lingering close by around a pool table. “Absolutely!” you smiled up at him. “I’m Tom by the way.” He extended his hand to you and you shook it. “Yeah, Tom Holland, I’m familiar with your work.” you had met celebrities before, the last thing you’d want to do is gush and make him feel awkward. “Oh yeah..and you are?” he chuckled and stared into your eyes. You couldn't help but dart yours away, not letting anyone look in your eyes, your training told you this was a sign of weakness and vulnerability. “I’m Y/N.” you offered up a cheeky smile, trying to still your nerves of the fact that somewhere out in the city, probably right outside the square, two men were trying to locate you. 

   But the drinks were warming and the loud atmosphere served for some sense of security, paired along with Tom’s company you could allow yourself to hide away for a while longer. “So, what kind of work brings you to Indonesia? Must be great to have a job that allows you to travel.” Your lie came immediately, it was one you were trained to tell in such situations. “I’m a journalist!” You stated, patting the vanilla colored files you had held firmly under your elbow for protection. “I’m doing research on crime, politics, and the drug pandemic in foreign governments and this is just the next stop on the list.” Tom’s eyes widened as he slid you your third sour, and sipped his own beer. “Wow, that's amazing. We’re just here on holiday, I’m a native of southwest London..” He continued on the conversation and proved to be a very intriguing man. You told him (as much as you could) about yourself without having to stretch the truth too much, about how you were Texas born and raised, started you career out in the prison system and after earning your degree got into “ Journalism.” You also talked about each others families, not forgetting to tell him about your youngest sister Ella, who you considered your own daughter.  

   The next half hour escaped from you, and even though you’d had five drinks, you were barely tipsy. After being drugged, poisoned and drinking as a casual cover for your work it took much more than that to put you out. Tom however was blissfully tipsy, the two of you leaning close in and thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere and conversation. You noticed the bar door push open for what happened to be the millionth time that night, but you immediately recognized the two men that entered, searching the bar for you. Internally you started cursing yourself for letting your guard down so easily. They were moving closer, making their way through the bar, nearing to where tom was sitting with his back to them. You had to act fast. Grabbing the cap off of Toms head you put it on your own, then meeting his confused expression, you pulled him by his T-shirt and crashed your lips to his positioning yourself between his knees hands traveling up his neck and threading your fingers through his curls, using his hat (and face) to cover your own.

   After adjusting to the initial shock of your actions, Tom moved his lips together with yours, deepening the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and entangling with yours as he groaned into the kiss, cupping your neck with his hand. The  two men passed by, you presumed to check out the bathrooms for you, or to exit the back alley of the bar. Either way it was time for you to go. You waved the bartender down grabbing a pen and napkin you scrawled down your number and slid it over to Tom. Leaning into his ear, you whispered...”I’ll return this hat to you, text me...I’m in London as well.” And  with that you left the bar through the front exit, leaving him flustered, but as you looked back, you could see his hand trailing over his lips as he grinned.

   Slipping back into the night air you knew you couldn't return to your hotel so you hopped in a cab and searched for a new one. Finally settling on a safe location, you checked in, cursing the fact that you had abandoned your bag at the previous room and couldn't go back considering whoever was after you probably was sifting through your belongings right now. “Good thing there wasn't anything important in there..” you grumbled to yourself. Sitting at the desk, you pulled out the files taking a deep breath. What was so important that it was worth taking multiple lives? Pulling the papers out it was easy to tell the files were incomplete, you couldn't grab everything in all of the confusion. Pictures of a woman who seemed familiar, but you couldn't identify was seen meeting with a known gun for hire, they called him The Body, presumably because of the fact he ruthlessly mutilated countless victims. Your brow furrowed. Your eyes scanned over the text until a sentence caught your eye “...United Solutions Co. employee, Michelle Campos, assistant to the ceo seen colluding with Antonio Balarez.” You read aloud to yourself. “Antonio... Now, what is the ringleader of a Venezuelan cartel doing meeting with an assistant to the ceo of a major pipeline corporation..hmm all very suspicious.” you mumbled to yourself, thinking if this was something as simple as an arms deal, money laundering, or was this something deeper? Rubbing your temples, you leaned back in your chair as your phone lit up on the bed. 

   Leaning over you saw an unfamiliar number pop up, the message underneath it read...”Had a wonderful time, Hope to see you soon, maybe in London? By the way, the hat looks better on you darling. Goodnight x.” A smile spread across your cheeks and your heart picked up in your chest. You confirmed the intel with your department head, Johnathan, confident he would see it early in the morning. Then sent signal for an extraction for first thing in the morning. Finally able to lay back and relax, you drifted off into soft sleep, your thoughts lingering on Tom.

[lokispettigerr]

Room 214: Tom Hiddleston x Actress!Female Reader (NSFW SMUT)

Fic Request by: @i-want-my-na-me-back I am so excited about posting the full fic and hope that it is everything you wanted it to be! Thank you so so much again, for sending your requests to my ask box. <3

Summary: Female reader is an aspiring actress. One evening after a play that he attended she approaches him to ask if he can help her with some of her lines and technique– he kindly obliges… Tom has no idea what he is agreeing to, and they are both in for a real treat.   Word Count: 2593

Warnings: None???? IDK, you might die???? RIP???

A/N: Sewww, dear gods, I am scared to post this. First time writing Daddy Hiddles (sorry, I don’t refer to him as that in the fic), hope you all enjoy it! Please, with a big ol’ cherry on top of my head, leave me some of your lovely feedback. You all are so good at that! 

General Taglist: @thegrandmasterschampion  @njavezan @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @avenging-blackwidow @lovelyxserpent-br @kamaroon @britkane-shsl-librarian @not-made-of-glass @archy3001 @witch-loki @purplekitten30 @mad-doctor-mew@bakerstreethound @jmb959 @areschosen @little-moonbeam-666  @hiddlestoner3059 @bingewatchingmylifegoby @fkngparadise @lucywindigo @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms @chocolatealmondmilkk @mellowgirl01 @fyeahlitaajpunk @drakesfiance @wicked-starlight-collector @kenzieam @nothungry4humanflesh @huiflavor @sherlocksuperfan666 @confessionsofastrugglingteen @joseyslo @ms-munchkin

Taglist: @skulliebythesea @saintwiz @joyofbebbanburg @lokislilslut @loki978 @brokenthelovely @thecollegefangirl95 @disneyland02 @babygirlicecream @shockwavee

“Excuse me, Tom Hiddleston” my index and middle finger tapped his broad shoulder, and he turned from his conversation to see who had called out his name.

“Hi, yeah, I was wondering if maybe you would give me a few acting pointers...I’m Y/N.” I held my hand out to him, and he took it to shake. His hand felt so good clasping my own, it dwarfed mine and was unusually rough with a shiny, white scar at the webbing between his index finger and thumb. For a moment, it appeared as if recognition flashed through his eyes… Did Tom remember me? We were often crossing paths in one way or another as we were both deeply involved and supportive of the acting world. We had many mutual friends, and I often caught a gaze from his mystic eyes from across the room at galas or parties, but we had never really had many close interactions.

“Uh, yeah, I think we can manage something like that.” he responded, still holding my hand. “What do you say I finish up here and we meet upstairs, rehearsal room 214 in an hour?” he winked, his head tilted towards me to hear my answer over the crowd of people talking.

“Perfect!” I exclaimed excitedly, “See you”, I turned on my heel, my hips swaying as I walked away. I glanced over my shoulder at Tom thinking to see his muscled back towards me, but instead he was watching me intently as I walked away, talking to someone half-heartedly.

Knowing he was watching me made my pulse jump, and it took my full concentration to continue walking behind the curtain and down the steep steps of the stage.

My heels clicked as I walked back to my locker to riffle through my purse hoping to freshen up before meeting with Tom and review my script. Luckily, I found a quiet, private corner in the building, tucked underneath a wooden stairwell. My concentration was all wonky because Tom kept interrupting my thoughts. My mind went back to the way he held my hand, the way his penetrating gaze looked not just at me, but through me, and the way he had watched me intently as I had walked off the stage and back behind the curtain. I would read my lines all the way through the first page not, remembering anything, and have to begin again.

I glanced at my pink and gold watch, and jolted up from the corner. It had been an hour and I was supposed to meet Tom upstairs!

I grabbed my bag and script hurriedly, and took the stairs two at a time, dashing up them, a huge feat in heels. I rounded the corner and barreled into Tom standing in front of the door to the rehearsal room.

“Whoa, are you alright there?” he grabbed my arms, steadying me like the gentleman he was, his eyes showing his concern for me, a small, shy smile on his lips.

I huffed, trying to slow my breathing, “Yeah, ah, sorry, I was just trying to make it up here, the time got away from me”.

He chuckled, amused and released my arms, squeezing them before letting go.

“Alright then, let’s get to it”, he turned opening the door and stood holding it for me, ushering me into the room warmly.

I nodded once in thanks, not making eye contact, a blush on my cheeks from both the run and my embarrassment.

“May I take a peek at your lines?” He asked me, holding out his fingers.

“Yes, yes, of course, sorry sorry” I said quickly,  my hand dashed into my bag, and my fingers closed around the folded, thick script.

His smile never faded, and he constantly appeared to be on the verge of laughter. Sensing my embarrassment he kept it to himself, but his eyes continued to smile, even as he read.

His glasses would fall intermittently, and his long, middle finger would dart up to slide them up his pointed nose, and every now and then an “Mmm” would escape his lips as he nodded slowly.

“This is a great part, really, you’re lucky to have it”, he said as he handed me back the script.

“What seems to be the problem you are having?” he crossed his arms, his brows furrowing as he waited for my response.

“Well” I gulped, nervously, looking down at the paper, “I am just really having trouble portraying romance to the audience through my character”.

Tom nodded, empathy etched on his face.

“I know I shouldn’t have trouble,” I continued, “but this is actually my first time acting romantically with someone, and I am finding it to be rather difficult”.

“That is completely understandable,” he pushed his glasses up his nose as he looked down searching his thoughts, “have you kissed them yet?” he continued, quickly, not taking a pause, “sometimes that helps you relax a little bit”.

“Not yet.” I smiled sheepishly.

“May I?” he asked, not waiting for my answer.

I had barely the chance to nod when Tom grabbed my face, passionately planting a kiss on my lips. Tom’s long fingers perfectly cupped the back of my neck as he drew me in. His sculpted nose was pressed into my cheek, and my breasts were against his chest.

The script slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a sharp clack, but Tom didn’t pull away, instead he deepened the kiss and my head began to swim. I was high from his close proximity.

My hand traveled up his rigid abdomen, my knuckles scraping against his chest and he hummed, deep blue silk against my swollen lips. My fingers kept their exploration towards his hair, burying themselves there, twisting the soft, silky tendrils between my fingers.

As our heads moved, to a love song that only we heard, his tongue parted my lips and he breathed me in as I sighed, his tongue exploring its new territory.

His hand traveled from its perch at the back of my neck down to my heaving breasts and he began to squeeze me, my womb twitching and tingling with each touch, my nipples tightening through my bra.

“Tom”, I mumbled against his petal lips.

“Mmm?” he didn’t stop, only deepened his kiss.

“I think—” I couldn’t think though, I was lying, “I think, we need” smooch, smooch, “…to stop”.

Tom’s lips left mine, leaving mine flush and swollen, yearning for his kisses against them again.

“Right” he replied, shortly, smoothing his hair, briskly, then reaching his hand out to smooth mine, but dropping it. Tom eyes lowered, shifting back and forth, searching his thoughts, “Its strange, Y/N, but I have been watching you for sometime now. I find myself searching for you in a crowd, wherever I go…” His eyes returned to my face, and I could see how much my presence grounded him, “Have you not felt my eyes on you from across the room when we are with our friends?” He watched me, expectantly, his eyes glistening. In truth, I had felt him watching me.

I bent down, reaching for the script that had fallen to the floor, but Tom’s hand got to it first, his fingers hitting mine, jolting them, electricity surging through us. My eyes trailed slowly up Tom’s body, finally meeting his gaze, “I have been watching you too, Tom”.

He rubbed his lips, pleased with himself, trying to hide a smile. “Erm, what’s next now then?”

The pages fluttered as he pulled the script towards him.

“I um, have to take my clothes off in front of the audience, do you uh, have any pointers for that, Tom?”

He cleared his throat loudly, his long middle finger shifting his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Erm, yeah, I do.” he replied, calmly, his eyes giving nothing away.

“I think it helps to have a song in your head that calms you, or perhaps, erm just a scene that soothes you, and remember it isn’t you on the stage” he paused, “no, not really, it is the person you are playing.” his eyes were searching the floor,and his arms were crossed.

“Now, try it out then, if you’re comfortable”. He strode to a chair behind him, pulling it towards me, sitting in it, his legs in opposition to one another, his hands resting on the tops of his thighs.

Gods, he looked delicious, like a god sitting there in all his golden splendor. He was practically glowing in front of me. Why did he have to sit like that??

I looked down, unbuttoning my fitted blouse, feeling self-conscious.

“No,” he rumbled, “look at me”.

My eyes slowly, slowly rose, and I continued to unbutton my shirt, my fingers fumbling with the tight buttons. When it was free, I straightened my arms and the shirt slid down my bare skin, falling to the floor.

“Keep going?” I asked, unsure.

“Keep going” he echoed. His slender hand, moved slightly, from resting on his leg to cover his pant zipper.

I shimmied my hips, removing my skirt and it fell to the floor joining my forsaken blouse.

Tom’s eyes were my captive audience, ever watchful, hypnotized even-- studying each curve my body possessed.

Without me realizing it, I was walking towards him, quickly, my feet gliding across the floor, my breasts bouncing.

He had expected this and his hands reached for me, and I sat down straddling his legs, my breasts coming towards his face-- close enough for him to bury his face in them.

His aquamarine eyes trailed down my body, mesmerized, and his hands rested at the apex of my wide hips. His fingers groping gently at my ass. Without thinking, I unzipped his pants. My fingers pushed through the flimsy opening, as the teeth of the zipper bit at my skin, trying to stop their covetousness. He was completely erect, his dick throbbing between my soft, cold fingers. He watched my hand, his eyes wide with wonder. I grabbed him behind his neck, lacing my fingers in his curls, and pulled his face towards my own, my lips invoking passion within us. Energy was rising. Our hearts were beating together in our erotic excitement, and his hand went from my hip, down to his pants, moving them out of the way to free his confined, hard length. It came close to reaching my navel, and was dripping slightly with a warm, wet trickle. I placed my thumb on the head of it and rubbed the liquid around, trailing slippery circles on the tip.

Tom’s  breathing was ragged, and he watched my face as I traced the circles, swirling my thumb around and around. In his arousal, he would shift his hips, pressing his dick into my fingers.

My fingers closed around his shaft, and I moved up off his lap, so his entirety could enter me.

“Wait, Y/N.” he rasped, finding it hard to stop. “Yes?” I wondered what he wanted… Did he not want me? Were we really only working on acting right now? It seemed all so real, this had to be real, right? It was all just Tom acting?

“Do you want me to stop? Do you not want me?” The words poured from my mouth, and I felt a flush rising to my cheeks. My eyes burned as I held back tears of rejection, my throat swelling painfully from the effort.

“No, no, can I just,” he trailed off, taking his length and instead of sliding it deep within me he placed the tip on my sensitive bundle of nerves.

I gasped from the pleasure shooting through my hips, and jerked back. My eyes going wide. “Oh, yes, ooo,” he said, swirling the tip around in tight circles.

My opening was so wet, the liquid began to coat my lips.

While he rubbed his tip on my clit, his length became more rigid and grew, and it poked into me painfully. In anticipation of this, Tom guided my hips back further-- up higher to allow for the extra growth. Without warning, he pushed into me. His large cock catching on my wet walls, my lips pulling with him as he edged deeper and deeper within me.

“Oh, Tom.” I whispered, my lips grazing his ear. I began to pump my body up and down, my head falling back, hair swaying as I moved.

Tom continued to hold me, his hands helping guide my hips up and down on his shaft. My juices could be heard as they soaked and coated him, making a “slurping, slapping” sound as I repeatedly took him within. He was so big that his head rammed into the solid wall of my cervix and I cried out, my mouth opening, and my brows knitting on the brink of pain and pleasure. He ignored any pain though and continued to push into my end, but I didn’t want him to stop. “The way you look,” he bit his lip, “god, you feel so completely tight, how could you possibly be this tight?”

I smirked, gently removing his glasses, placing them to the side.

He glanced down at my heaving breasts, his hands moving up my hips to cup and massage them. “Look, at these breasts”, he breathed, closing his eyes, “Ah, shit. I’m close, ahhh, so close, unghh.” I reached down to rub my swollen clit, blood pulsing behind it. “Oooo” I cried out, as his length deepened, he pushed his hips up. His cock pushing, pushing. “That’s right, Y/N, touch yourself for me, you look so sexy.” He couldn’t control himself any longer, and began fucking me hard and fast, panting, his hair falling loose, and spreading around his face. “Ooof, ooh, so close” he grunted out, “so close, oh, I’m cumming, I’m cumming” he said, quickly, not breaking between words. He let out a growl as his seed squirted into me, he was so deep I could feel the hot liquid gush against the opening of my cervix. I came then, feeling his heat mingling with my own. My head shooting back, my jaw slackening as I cried out, hopelessly, uncontrollably coming undone for him.

We continued to sit with me in his lap, straddling his legs.

I cradled his head in my arms, pulling his cheek to my breast, my chin resting on the top of his head. He smelled like vanilla and leather and the smell left me feeling relaxed and slightly dazed.

All too soon, he was lifting my hips, easily, and sliding out of me.

We both stood and dressed. “I have to go, Y/N. But I want to keep seeing you-- I have to keep seeing you.” he  said, pulling his pants back up and zipping them.

I nodded, “Me too” I agreed, my finger rubbing my full lips, thoughtfully. He smiled, “tomorrow then darling, meet me at the Tea House on the corner of Main and 9th”. “It’s a date!” I beamed at him, grabbing my bag to head out of Room 214. As I turned the corner, Tom called to me, his voice muffled through the walls, coming closer, “Y/N?” I stopped, turning to find Tom’s arms closing around me in a warm embrace. He hugged me, rocking us back and forth, his face buried in my hair. “Tomorrow then…” he murmured into my hair, then let go. I walked away my skin tingling from his apparent adoration and intimacy, and with butterflies in my stomach.

BONUS: How I imagined him sitting watching you undress. 

Hope you all enjoyed! Crossing my fingers for it anyway! If you liked this fic please think about giving me a follow and hopefully a reblog and/or response.  ***I am always here for you if you need, send me an ask with a request of what you would like to read next, any ideas you have with a current story, what you wanna hear more of, or any questions or comments. I can assure you, I LOVE IT! ****If you would like to be on the general taglist OR the taglist for this fic please leave me an ask in my ask box. I will make it happen and would be happy to do it! You all make me so very happy! 

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Peace,

Loki’s Pet Tiger

[so-wonderful-so-beautiful]

JuleThief FanFic Ch. 3

No proofreading done, for the most part. My eyes can only catch so many typos. But this one has a small hint of Chief/Julia. And I blame an amazing piece of fan art for that. I do apologize if anyone seems out of character. I tried to make sure I kept them as you would see them in the show. Anywho, enjoy ch. 3.

The sound of a heart monitor echoed in the sterile room of the local hospital. Chase Devineux laid unconscious in the hospital bed. A blanket pulled up to his chest. His cheeks were a little sunken in, and color seemed to elude his cheeks.

Julia sat on a chair at the back of the room. The place she had occupied diligently for the last week and a half since Devineux was brought here. She looked up to glance over him, and make sure he was okay.

Nothing. No movement. Just the sounds of the machines that monitored his vitals, and the puff of oxygen that flowed into his nose from the tube.

Julia let out a small sigh, and resumed reading the notes that were up on her tablet. Keeping busy with work, and studying history were the ways she avoided her feelings best right now. If she stopped to think about what happened, or the accusations made, she would go mad.

The porter on duty walked passed the door, catching Julia’s attention for a moment, as he pushed the trays of food towards the rooms he was meant to deliver them to.

Julia watched for a second more as he went about his business, before going back to her notes. She looked over the surveillance footage over the last few months that she had been on the case of Carmen Sandiego. There had to be details she was missing. Something that could give her more details into who V.I.L.E. was, and where they operated. Her partner was unconscious in a hospital bed because of them. It was her job now to bring those who were responsible to justice.

The conversation she had just had with Carmen was still dancing around her mind. She didn’t get as much information as she had hoped, and even volunteered to help. What was she thinking? Julia was even warned not to pursue V.I.L.E.

That was out of the question. They needed to be stopped. Julia was not going to rest until villains like that were behind bars where they belonged. She knitted her brows in concentration as she flipped through photos of crime scenes, and notes of what was stolen.

“You know, if you make a face like that for too long, it’ll get stuck that way.” A deep woman’s voice carried from across the room.

Julia’s eyes shot up, and looked to see Chief standing there in the flesh, occupying the doorway.

“Chief!” Julia stammered, standing up quickly and brushing her skirt free of the crumbs from the pastries she had brought. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.” Julia felt herself grow anxious, as she tried to clean up the little corner she had been occupying for the last week.

The Chief raised her hand, prompting Julia to stop her scrambled cleaning. “I don’t very often get out of the office, but I felt like this was a good reason to.” She stepped into the room, and closed the door most of the way behind her. She stood tall, her light blonde hair and blue green eyes, set apart from her dark skin.

Julia stood awkwardly with her hands at her side, as she looked at the real Chief for the first time. Not just a hologram. Her mouth began to run dry as she stared at Chief. She was beautiful as a hologram, but absolutely stunning in person. “I am sorry for the mess, I didn’t think there would be any visitors.” Julia apologized.

A smile crept onto Chief's face as she came to stand in front of Julia. “There’s no need for any of that.” Chief placed her hand on Julia’s shoulder. “You have been a diligent partner, staying at his side even here.” She held her smile. “He’s lucky to have a partner like you.”

Hot tears began to prick at the back of Julia's eyes. Chief was always complimenting her. Most times she was the one being told she was lucky by Devineux. She reached up to wipe the tears that began to form there, before they got out of hand.

Chief gave her a sad smile, and put her other hand on her other shoulder. “I’m sorry you've had to experience this. Devineux might have been thick headed at times, but he is still a good man, and a good agent.”

Julia felt the tears flow now. She didn’t want to confront these feelings now. But it was too late. The floodgates had been opened. Julia sniffed as she felt her face become a wet mess. She looked to Devineux who was just as unmoving as he was before. He had been hard on her, but they were still partners. “I just want to bring those who did this to justice.” Julia muttered.

The Chief wrapped her arms around Julia and pulled her into a tight hug. Julia placed her arms gently behind Chief’s back. She didn’t know how much she needed a hug until she got it. Tears now flowing without control.

“We’ll bring Carmen Sandiego, and anyone works for her to justice. Don’t you worry.” Chief promised.

Julia felt the color drain from her face. After the promise she made today. That could mean her.

“Here,” Chief pulled away, and reached into her blazer. She produced a handkerchief from her inside pocket, and used it to help Julia dry her face. “I know how hard this has been on you. You’ve worked so much since then to find any clues or answers.” Chief gestured towards the tablet with the crime scene photos. “But I want you to take a break. Working yourself to the bone right now won’t do you much good.”

Julia took the handkerchief, and dabbed her eyes and her cheeks. She could barely control the sniffling. “But I'm close to finding a clue. Something that will give us a hint on who to pursue.” Julia argued. She didn’t want to take a break. She wanted to keep going. If she stopped now, her feelings would catch up with her.

“We know who to pursue. But right now we need to regroup, and be at our best when the time comes.” Chief pulled away, her hand lingering on Julia’s upper arm for a moment. “Please get some rest, Julia.”

The Chief had never used Julia’s first name before. It made it harder to press the subject. She sucked in a deep breath, and let out a defeated sigh.

“I’ll have an agent posted here every day to keep an eye on him. Don’t you worry.” Chief smiled at her.

It seemed Julia wasn’t going to win this battle. She had a small frown as she began to collect her things. Her jacket, her gloves, her bag, and her tablet.

After a few moments, Julia had her things, and began to head for the door. She felt herself stopped by Chief’s hand on her shoulder once again. Julia stopped to look up at her.

Chief stared back at her, concern in her eyes. “I am worrying for one agent already. Please don’t make me worry for another.” She gently squeezed Julia's shoulder.

There was not much else to say, as Julia stared back at Chief. Her pulse quickened as she started at the tall, beautiful woman. She could feel her cheeks warm a bit, and butterflies flitter around her stomach. She stared back for a second more, then began to take her leave. “Please let me know if anything changes.” She requested as she turned to leave.

“Of course, Miss Argent. You’ll be the first to know.” Chief promised.

Julia looked over her shoulder, and gave her a small smile. “Thank you.” She pulled the door open, and left. She could feel the Chief’s eyes on the back of her head as she made her way passed the window, and headed for the elevator. The porter from before passed by her, as he pushed his empty cart down the hall. She watched him for a moment as she waited for the elevator she called. His orange hair, and tall skinny figure stirred a memory. But she could not place it. It had been a long and draining day. She brushed the thought aside, and took the elevator down when it arrived.

Julia slipped her gloves on as she made her way out the elevator doors, and into the lobby. The orange haired porter floated in her mind. Why was he familiar to her? Then it hit her. It was Zack. One of the people who worked for Carmen! The same man she had met not less than a few hours ago. Her heart rate soared as she feared Chief's theory was true. Was he there to finish off Devineux? Julia dashed back to the elevator. She pressed the up button multiple times. But the first one she had taken was already on its way back up. She pressed the button more, hoping it would encourage the second to move faster.

The second elevator slid down to the bottom level about ten seconds later. The doors opened, as Julia rushed to step inside. A few people jumped in surprise as Julia almost ran into them. “My apologies, I was just in a rush to see someone.” She tried to explain as she stepped to the side to let them pass.

As the last person, an elderly woman, shuffled out, Julia leaped in, and smashed the button of the floor Devineux was on. Time passed slowly as she tapped her foot rapidly with anxiety. The elevator chimed as it reached the floor she desired.

Julia leaped out of the elevator and looked around wildly. Zack was tall, and his orange hair stuck out like a sore thumb, but he was nowhere in sight. Julia briskly walked to Devineux's room. Fearing the worst. She quickly pushed the door open, and saw Chief reading something on a small tablet, as she sat in a chair by Devineux, and Devineux in the exact same spot as before.

“Miss Argent, is everything alright?” Chief stood up, and raised an eyebrow.

Julia's eyes darted around the room. It was just the two of them. Three including Julia. There was no way she could tell Chief why she had come back. That would reveal she knew more about Carmen than she should.

Footsteps approached her as Chief moved to stand in front of her. “Are you alright, Julia?” Chief questioned, moving to place her hand on Julia's cheek.

Her hands were warm. A stark comparison to how cold Julia's cheeks were. A lot of color had drained from her face, and her breathing was rapid.

“I-I, uh…” she tried to formulate a reason for her sudden reappearance. No valid excuse came to mind. Julia looked around the room, and saw her pastry bag on the small side table. “I forgot my lunch.” She breathed out. Julia hoped that was a good enough excuse.

Chief turned to see the bag sitting there. She stepped over to grab it, and returned it to Julia. “You look terrible. Please go home and get some rest.” She placed her hand on Julia's cheek once more after placing her pastry back into Julia’s hands.

Julia felt Chief rub her thumb gently across her cheek. Her breathing didn’t seem to slow down, but sped up. “Yes Chief.” She whispered.

There was a lot of explaining she needed from Carmen. Julia nodded to herself, as she slowly turned away, and headed back out of the room. Chief watched her slowly walk out. It made her sad, seeing another agent having a hard time coping with a tragedy like that.

Julia resumed her path back out of the hospital. Her eyes scanning for Zack to reappear again. But nothing as she waited for the elevator. It chimed as it reached her floor. She stepped in, and pressed for the bottom floor. Rest was definitely what she needed now. Today was so draining.

So many questions she needed to ask Carmen swirled around her mind. But she had no way of getting into contact with her. Julia had to wait to be contacted. She didn’t know how long that would be. But if Zack was hanging around the hospital, she needed to know why. Julia couldn’t hang around there now. Especially since Chief was there. But if Chief was watching, Devineux was safe. Not to mention, other agents would be there as well.

It was time to accept that she would have to go home and rest. With Chief taking care of everything, she knew that Devineux was in safe hands.

Julia felt the weight of the day pushing down on her shoulders. She walked slowly back towards the bus stop. The sun was setting, and her stomach growled in hunger. She had spent the rest of her day at the hospital. She should get a taxi this time. Julia was too impatient to wait for the bus.

A cab was approaching as she made her way to the street. Julia waved her hand, and hailed the cab. The driver pulled to the curb, and Julia got in. She sighed and placed her briefcase down in the seat next to her.

“Where to, miss?” a young woman's voice asked.

Julia gave her address, and leaned back in the seat. She was exhausted. The thought of resting in her bed was filling her mind. She watched as building's and people went by.

The driver of the cab had tried to engage in small talk, but with no luck. She glanced towards the back seat, and saw Julia watching out the window with a glazed look over her face.

After a few more minutes of driving, the cab pulled up to the flat. The cabby looked at Julia, and spoke. “Miss? We’re here.”

Julia blinked her eyes, and looked at the driver. “Ah, thank you.” She muttered as she grabbed her briefcase and opened the car door. She slowly slid out, closed the door, and sighed. Julia leaned in to the opened window, money in hand.

The cabby smiled as Julia handed her the money she pulled from her pocket. “Much obliged.” The cabby tipped her hat as she went to grab change.

“Keep the change.” Julia said quietly.

“Thank you!” the cabby pocketed the money.

Julia gave a small nod, and smiled at the driver. Julia stared for a moment as her face seemed familiar. She blinked again and turned to enter her apartment building.

“Have a good night miss!” the cabby called after her. Julia gave a small wave as she entered the building. Something about the driver's face poked at the back of her mind. As she walked through the lobby, and headed for the elevator, it clicked into place. It was Ivy! The other person who worked with Carmen!

Julia ran back across the lobby, and burst through the door. The cab was already gone. Julia looked up and down the street. How was it that she saw both of Carmen's cohorts in one day? Was she being watched?

The thought of her being tailed like that made her uncomfortable. Julia sighed and walked back to the elevator. She called it down, and stepped in when it arrived. She was too tired to think about that right now. Her bed was calling, and she needed sleep.

The elevator reached the floor her flat was on. Julia made her way down the hall, and dug through her jacket for her keys. She fumbled a moment, but was able to get her keys in the lock.

Julia sighed as she entered the flat. She flipped the light on as she turned and closed the front door. It had been such a long day. Julia walked to the small kitchen table and put her briefcase atop it. She pulled off her jacket, and gloves, and placed them on the chair.

Food crossed her mind, but she was too tired to make anything. She has barely picked at her lunch. Julia walked to the fridge, and pulled out a sparkling water. It was the only thing that sounded good. She twisted the cap off, and took a couple of sips. Nothing else in the fridge called out to her. She closed the door, and walked to her bedroom.

Julia kicked off her shoes, and sat on the edge of her bed. She downed the rest of the sparkling water. It was getting late, and she could tell she needed sleep. Anxiety had been building all day after she agreed to help Carmen. The talk she had with Chief wasn’t helping. Hopefully a good night’s sleep would do.

A silk night gown sat at the edge of her bed. It was her favorite set of pajamas. Julia quickly shed her uniform, and put on her silk garment. After going through and getting all the lights, Julia crawled into bed. Sleep was calling, and she was ready to answer.

It didn’t take long for her eyes to close, and her breathing to calm down. Soon, Julia was fast asleep.

[raywritesthings]

Oi! Don’t Blink!

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Tenth Doctor, Martha Jones, Wilfred Mott, Donna Noble Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Donna Noble Summary: Donna Noble's investigations into trouble lead her to an old house in Wester Drumlins. Meanwhile, the Doctor is flagged down by a different person to tell him about his future. Notes: Hey everybody. I feel bad I haven't posted much as of late, and then I remember I had this plot bunny sitting in my google docs. I have some other scenes from the episode sketched out, but I thought just the general concept could stand on its own and I wanted to give you all something to read. Not sure when I'll get around to writing the rest of it which is why this is listed as complete for now, but if you see additional chapters at a later date, don't be surprised. Anyway, I think this idea was inspired by an article somebody wrote some months (years?) back about how Sally Sparrow from Blink was asked to be a companion after Martha, and the writer of the article was...let's say dismissive at best of Donna and Catherine Tate's ability. So me, being the rather petty person I am at times, decided to write a story where there is no Sally Sparrow. That being said, I mean no offense to Sally or her actress (Carey Mulligan, I think?) or fans of them. I think "Blink" is a good standalone episode in its own right. This is just me having a bit of fun. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did! *Can be read on my AO3*

It was an otherwise unremarkable day. The Doctor and Martha had ended up a few years into her personal future, which he ordinarily tried to avoid. But lizards were notoriously difficult to schedule, particularly when it came to their hatchlings.

They’d been on the chase all afternoon, on foot for most of it. As time had quickly begun to run out, however, he’d flagged down a taxi.

“Pull over here,” he instructed the driver. They’d have to run the rest of the way, but it was better that no one else get too close.

Martha started to reach for her wallet as the taxi stopped.

“I’ve got it,” he said quickly, reaching into his pockets. “Can’t have you circulating cash out of its proper time.”

“You carry money?” Martha looked rather impressed with him.

“Well, someone told me I ought to,” he replied evasively.

Martha’s smile dimmed. “Right.” She got out of the taxi without waiting for him, so he hurriedly finished paying and clambered out onto the pavement.

He hadn’t gone two paces when someone called out to him. “Hey, Doctor!”

The Doctor spun about on the balls of his feet. There was an old man sitting at a newsstand in a checkered shirt and jumper, and he was grinning broadly at him.

“I thought it was. Saw you getting out of that taxi, and I thought, ‘Well, there he is!’ Didn’t expect you by today.”

“Oh, well I’m passing through, really. Sort of on my way elsewhere,” he found himself explaining to the stranger. 

“Doctor, we haven't got time for this.” Martha had come back up the road to get him. “The migration's started.”

“Right, in a bit of a rush. Sorry.”

He made to rejoin Martha, and the man chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, wouldn’t want to hold you up. But, ah, aren’t you missing someone? Eh?”

“Er…” The Doctor did a quick headcount. Him and Martha, just like he’d thought. “No, no I don’t think so. Sorry, have we actually met before?”

The smile finally dropped off the old man’s face. “Haven’t we?”

“Doctor, please. Twenty minutes to red hatching,” Martha reminded.

“Look, sorry, I've got a bit of a complex life,” he tried to explain as quickly as he could. “Things don't always happen to me in quite the right order. Gets a bit confusing at times, especially at weddings. I'm rubbish at weddings, especially my own.”

“Well, don’t be too hard on yourself. I thought you were alright,” said the man.

The Doctor froze. “What?”

But the stranger’s eyes had widened with some kind of realization. “Oh, this is the day, isn’t it?”

“Hold on, what day?” The Doctor was still having trouble trying to figure out why this man had an opinion on his hypothetical wedding performance.

“Yeah, she said you wouldn’t know. Listen, you’ve got to take this.” He leaned down and pulled out a sealed bag stuffed with what looked to be a number of things. “Everything’s in there you’ll need.”

“Need for what?” He took the bag anyway.

“Doctor!” Martha called.

“You’re gonna get stuck in time. Or you did, cos of the statues or something. But don’t you worry, she’ll take care of you.”

“Who’s ‘she’?”

“My granddaughter. I think you’re supposed to have met her already. She tried explaining the whole thing to me, but I don’t think I have it all clear.”

“Who is she?” He repeated.

“Doctor, come on!” Martha urged once more. The Doctor knew she was right to hurry him along, but he couldn’t help the frustration at sensing there was something rather important going on here, at least for him.

The red hatching came first, though. He checked his watch. They really couldn’t delay any longer.

“Right, well, lovely meeting you. Got to dash.” He stuffed the bag and its unknown contents deep in his coat pocket, resolving to just forget it for now. Then he turned to finally follow Martha to the hatching.

The stranger called after them, “Hey, good luck, you two!”

Martha looked back over her shoulder at him as they ran. “What was that about?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No idea.”

—-

Two weeks later, the Doctor found himself stranded in an alley with Martha in 1969, and he thought he was beginning to get something of an idea.

“I mean, what are we gonna do?” His companion was quickly reaching distress, not that he could blame her being stuck some forty-odd years in her relative past.

Hold on, stuck.

“Those angels—”

“The statues,” the Doctor corrected.

“You just said they were called Weeping Angels,” said Martha.

“Yes, but the statues. He said we’d be stuck in time because of the statues. That’s now!”

“Who said?”

“The man at the newsstand. Uh, four things and a lizard?” He added, hoping to jog her memory.

Martha frowned. “I thought you didn’t have a clue what he was on about.”

“I didn’t, not then, but I do now. He was trying to tell me about my future in my past, only it wasn’t going to make any sense till the present, see?”

“No,” said Martha, rather bluntly.

“Look, the important thing is, we’re not really stuck. We can get out of this.”

She looked the closest to happy since they’d gotten zapped back to this time. “Back to the TARDIS?”

“Hopefully, because we can’t let the Angels have her.” He began to rummage in the pockets of his overcoat. It was somewhere in there, shoved away and forgotten about till now. “The man at the newsstand gave me some kind of supplies or instructions, said they were from his granddaughter.”

“And who’s that?”

“I’m not sure.” The Doctor found what he was looking for and pulled out the thick packet. “He said I might have already met her, but I suppose there’s no way of knowing.”

“Well, you could open that bag and see,” was Martha’s suggestion.

“Right!” He did so, plopping down onto the ground with his back to the wall in order to tip the contents out onto his lap.

There were a number of things. Some photos, a sort of list, a few handwritten notes.

“Is that money?” Martha grabbed at a smaller plastic bag and took out a large quantity of bills. “Oh, and they’re all from before 1969!” A relieved laugh escaped her. “We’re not gonna starve! Whoever this is, she’s good.”

“Well, he said she’d take care of me — er, us, I mean.” The Doctor supposed it could’ve easily been a general ‘you’, but there’d been something about the way the man had said it, with a sort of special twinkle in his eye. Just who were these people?

An envelope caught his eye, which he snagged only to frown in puzzlement.

“Did she write us something?” Asked Martha.

“She wrote you something at least.” The Doctor showed her the front of the envelope.

“‘Spaceman and Martha’?” She read aloud, a slight laugh on the end. “Well, that’s got to be you, doesn’t it?”

The Doctor wasn’t sure how to answer, so he tore open the envelope and took out their letter. Martha slid down the wall into a crouch to look over his shoulder.

Dear Spaceman and Martha, it officially began.

It’s weird writing you about something that’s long in the past for all of us, but that’s time travel for you. If Gramps did this right, you should’ve gotten this before the Angels sent you back to 1969. If he hasn’t, then I suppose that blows the whole ontological paradox thing.

“What’s an ontological paradox?” Martha asked him.

“It’s what we’re in right now. Everything that’s happening to us only is happening because it already happened for her and vice versa.”

There’s some things you’ve got to do on your end. The first bit’s just waiting for Billy. I’m not sure how long it’ll be in your time till the Angels get him, but you’ll need to find him. It’s all down to him on getting us to be able to communicate.

And you’ve got to promise me you’re going to get him set up nice there since you can’t bring him back with you. Make sure he’s comfy. He’s a good man, and he didn’t deserve any of this.

It was the strangest sense of deja vu he’d ever felt. He knew that speech pattern, could almost put a voice to it, but he just didn’t understand. How had he already met the person who was going to help them out of this? And how was it that he still didn’t even have her name, yet this letter read like a message from an old friend?

I packed my notes for the conversation you’re going to record. Billy puts it on the DVDs on that list, and then it’s just more waiting round for me to get to it — oh! and you’ve got to write me the message at the house. Wester Drumlins. Don’t forget or I’m gonna get clobbered by a vase or something, and then where will we be?

I should really have you two look this over before I give it to Gramps. That’d be just like me to leave out something important.

“Are we sure this is going to work?” Martha was eyeing the letter somewhat doubtfully now.

“We have to be,” was the only reply he could give her.

Assuming this goes alright, you’ll be seeing me soon. I hope you’re excited. I know I was. And if I’m going to get a bit personal here — sorry, Martha — but I just want you to know, Doctor:

Not that I mean to create some sort of ontological obligation, but the last few years have been the best second chance at getting it right I’ve ever had. I don’t say it enough. And I’m not going to say I couldn’t imagine my life without you, because I did try that, and it was awful which is sort of the point. So thank you, really. Because you’ve saved me, too.

I’ll see you both soon.

Love,

Donna

“Donna,” the Doctor echoed dumbly. “Donna?” He stood, letting the letter fall into Martha’s lap.

He only knew one Donna, and if the man was right and he’d already met this Donna — but it couldn’t be her! She’d gone off to see the world on her own, being magnificent without him.

“Who’s Donna?” Asked Martha. She was looking from him to the letter and back again. “Do you actually know her?”

“I know a Donna,” he grudgingly admitted. The Doctor plucked up one of the photographs. It was of the house at Wester Drumlins, a wall in the sitting room which someone had written on. Well, him and Martha, apparently. And there was the name DONNA NOBLE.

But she couldn’t have gotten mixed up in this. Donna didn’t want anything to do with him. He’d scared her away, not saved her. It couldn’t really be her.

“Er, Mister? There’s a postscript,” said Martha, interrupting his thoughts, and she held the letter back out to him with a nervous look.

The Doctor took it.

P.S. Martha said I’ve got to remind you to behave. I better not hear you’ve been sitting on your skinny arse while she’s been working for three months. You treat her right. Seriously, Martha, you’re too good to him.

Okay. Definitely her.

[artboitrash]

His Bloody Rose (Stefano Valentini fanfiction) Chapter 3 - Working Day

Days passed since I had met Stefano on my Wednesday shift; the weekend came and let me move through the motions of daily life. I never ended up looking up his name. While I was curious, I didn't need to go snooping around for information on a stranger.

I sat quietly in the gallery the following Monday, scrolling through my Facebook page, absentmindedly wondering about some more distant friends that I didn't interact with online. Everything, as far as I was aware, was going smoothly in my classes, and I didn't have anything too pressing for the next few weeks. Pet pictures and photos of family members went through my feed interspersed with articles about politics and science breakthroughs.

A new article posted a few hours ago came across my dash, linked to a statement from the Krimson City's police department about an urgent matter. The headline read "Mutilated Woman's Body Found Over the Weekend - Search for Identity Matches Missing Woman from Krimson City" and continued with an introduction to the article.

I clicked on the link and began to scroll through the story, reading about how the body was missing its arms and head, rendering it as barely more than a torso. A crime scene photo, blurred for those who didn't want to see it, showed her crumpled frame laying in a small pool of blood in an alleyway once the filter was removed. There was barely any blood left, showing that the majority of the wounds and bloodletting occurred elsewhere.

"Due to some defensive wounds, police are saying this person was alive while they were being dismembered. Identity of body suspected to be Genevieve Wavers, a young woman pursuing an acting and modeling career. She was last seen in a bar downtown before disappearing six days ago. The police chief will be making a statement today about the series of murders that have been occurring within our beloved town."

I frown slightly as I continue scrolling, discussing how the family of the woman is reacting to the news, how it hasn't been completely confirmed until the DNA testing comes back conclusive, and discussion of how similar murders have been ongoing within the city.

A serial murderer is an interesting idea to study in terms of true crime interests, but it doesn't actually feel fun when there's a real threat living in your city and walking around as though they are a real person.

I shut out of the tab on my phone. That's enough internet for right now, I don't need to become wildly paranoid. So far I think I'm safe from the supposed serial killer, or whoever is killing and dismembering young women in Krimson. Sure I'm a young woman too, but I doubt I'm the ideal victim for them.

I guess I wouldn't really know that, though.

A student walked into the gallery, meandering in slowly. I sat down my phone, sitting attentive to make sure they knew I was there to answer any questions they might have. The waved slightly at me, acknowledging me, then started to walk around the exhibit.

I turned to my sketchbook, staring at the sketch I had been working on before becoming frustrated and turning to my phone for entertainment. I frowned, then picked up my block eraser and began to erase the entire thing. I didn't like how it was turning out, and I knew I would never come back to it, so might as well get rid of it now before it becomes a mental burden to the book and an embarrassment to me.

The student walked towards the desk, causing me to look up at him. He was a student I was familiar with, as he had been in several of my art classes.

"Hey, it's nice to see you again!" He said with a smile, polite as he usually was.

I nodded towards him. "Always good to see you." I made a mental note that I didn't know or remember his name.

"Do you know what this piece is called?" he held up his phone, showing a photograph of a piece from the last gallery installment. "I meant to get it before it came down, but I wasn't able to remember it, and I've asked around my class that needs the paper, but no one knows what it's called."

Someone else walked in, but I didn't pay attention to them while I was preoccupied with the student in front of me. I knew a few teachers in the art department had set a short paper to talk free form about a piece of their selection. A few other students from other classes have come in with the same question, but I'm normally not helpful. Especially now since this installment has been up for nearly a month. I stared at the photo for a moment, recognizing the image but not remembering the name, then shrugged.

"Sorry, I didn't catch most of the names from the last rotation." I said, leaning back in my seat. "I would recommend talking to your teacher and asking if you could do a paper on one of the pieces from this one."

"Oh, alright..." His voice trailed off, turning his phone to himself to look at the photograph again and scratching his neck.

I smiled halfheartedly, turning my attention the other patron. The student was a woman with long brown hair lingering close to the desk I was sitting at, obviously waiting for my attention. The man I was talking to turned and began to wander around the room to look at the pieces again.

The girl walked to my desk. "Uhm, sorry, but do you have any of the last paintings from the last gallery?"

I shook my head. "Only one or two in the backroom since they were sold, but all the name plates are in a pile in a tray mixed with other rotations."

"Okay. . ." her voice hesitated, then she pulled out her phone from her bag and scrolled through it. "Do you know the name of this one?"

She held out her phone with a photograph from the last installment. It was a different piece from what the other student had asked me to remember, but I was still at a loss for the names. I kept my polite smile but sighed internally. Props to her for not eavesdropping on my last conversation. Working in the gallery is fun, but when someone puts off their paper until a month after their reference is pulled off the walls, I tend to feel like it's not worth it.

"Sorry, no." I said. "I don't know the name. If you need it for a paper, I'd recommend asking your teacher if you can change the subject of the paper."

She nods, then puts her phone away, frowning as though she was embarrassed. "Well, thank you anyway."

She walked out of the gallery, hung head a little. I could tell the poor girl was severely anxious. I slid my mouth to the side. I mentally apologized again, though knowing it wasn't my fault, I felt bad that so many people didn't realize that the gallery attendants weren't completely infallible. If I knew the names of each piece from the last artist, I would certainly help the people that came in and asked. However, for now each of the students were on their own until I can get photographic memory like the phones that didn't capture the names of the pieces the students are trying to reference.

I continue trying to work with a sketch on the now blank page laying open in my sketchbook. I play with the lines, trying to turn light scribbles into a full piece, starting over and trying to use the page as a character sheet or as a thumbnail experiment page for paintings. However, I don't seem to be able to make anything work, and I eventually give up on the now messy and greyed page. Perhaps today just isn't my day to continue my drawings.

I sigh and pick up my phone again. I open Facebook again, scrolling through my feed. I come across some more articles discussing the current climate of fear in Krimson, more talks about who might be the serial killer running amongst the citizens. Comments sections full of "Anyone could have done this, we aren't being told anything by the police" and "These officials don't know how to do their jobs, no wonder multiple serial killers have lived here in the past decade."

I frown and try not to think about the current state of the city. Too many police went missing in one of the last incidents in Krimson, so I'm not surprised if they're understaffed or waiting for new personnel. When there aren't as many people to keep the criminals in check, it seems the criminals will run rampant like an invasive species.

Someone walked into the gallery, causing me to look up. It was my coworker, Angela, come to take my place since my shift was now over. I smiled at her and began to pick up my things. We began to make conversation and talked quietly as I stood to leave the gallery. We made jokes about shared experiences from working the gallery, discussing family life and bonding over mutual things.

Finally, I turned and began to leave for my class. I was sure I had wasted enough time chatting, but when I made connections with people I couldn't help investing whatever time was available to be with them. It was exhausting sometimes, but worth it when I can make a strong connection with someone.

Walking out the door from the gallery, I waved and said "see you" to Angela. I walked a few paces, then walked into something. I backed up, stumbling, trying to regain my balance.

I fell as I failed to regain my composure, stumbling backwards over my own feet. The concrete flooring was cold and unflinching, rather painful as my leg bent roughly underneath me. I heard someone's voice cry out with a loud slamming into the ground that wasn't me. It dawned on me that I had run into a person and knocked them over.

I looked over to the person saying "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

A man with a single eye obscured by his bangs lay in front of me on the floor, now sitting up and staring at me. It was Stefano, and I could see his portfolio from last time laying across the floor where he had dropped it. His face was twisted in rage, a taught frown on his face and visible eyebrow turned down, casting a dark shadow over his eye. Then his face softened, and he began to get up.

"Well, Miss Rose, I didn't expect to see you again today." He spoke through a tense voice, masking almost pure rage coming through as he spoke. He reached for his portfolio as he stood, then brushed his off, patting down some of the dirt his black suit picked up while on the floor. The top button was undone on his pristine shirt collar, the black coat protecting the pure white fabric from a smudge of dirt across his side.

I hurriedly got up, grabbing my book bag, forgetting that I was in a rush to get to my next class. "I'm so, so sorry, I didn't see you while I was walking."

"Nor did I see you." He said, no longer speaking with an enraged tone. "Though, I would recommend you watch where you are going next time. I doubt few would be as forgiving as me."

I blinked, taken aback from his comment.

His face shifted, then a smile spread across his lips. He lifted his portfolio, then gestured me to follow him. I walked with him as he sat down on a bench across the hall from where I had been standing.

"You are responsible for one of my newest creations, bella." he chuckled quietly as I sat down next to him. "After you had shown me those photos from Miss Sally Mann, I was struck with such inspiration that I had to create something new."

I didn't notice how low he was speaking at first. He opened his leather portfolio, the echo of the zipper bouncing through the hall.

"You developed a new photograph, or. . ."

"I created several, though I am only carrying the best with me in this."

He flipped gently through the transparent folders holding his pictures, as though checking to make sure none were damaged from falling. Once he got closer to the ending, he turned the portfolio to me and set it on my lap. Two pictures looked back at me, one of an eye buried under dozens of hands, staring out at the viewer. I stared at it for a moment, seeing the crispness of the shadows meeting and contrasting with the skin tones of the hands and what was visible of the face. The eye shone in terror it seemed, bloodshot, and almost begging to be saved from the inevitable fate of being touched.

A low rumble of laughter came from the man sitting next to me. "I admire your appreciation, but I was speaking about this one." His gloved hand guided me to the opposite page and tapped it slightly.

It was a woman with missing limbs and head dislocated from her body, face obscured by roses and tree leaves. She was wearing a red dress that turned into a river at her feet, simulating a river of blood flowing through a forest. Large trees overlapped and faded into the background, implying that the focus of the woman was that she was part of a waterfall, leaning back in a near bliss at bringing life to the land around her despite her obvious death.

I felt my heart pound, something about the way the girl stood reminded me of the police report and crime photo I had seen earlier. I blinked and shook my head.

"What are your thoughts?" Stefano shattered my train of thought, a smile crossing his face as I looked up at him. "You are the first. To see this newest work of mine."

I turned back to it, taking in the composition of this photograph, ignoring the gnawing thoughts in the back of my head. I stared, taking in the sharp contrast colors, scarlet dress and crimson flowing liquid clashing like a kiss with the warm brown of the trees and cool leaves. I realized there was a ripple of wind, pushing the dress and leaves in movement swaying to the left of the picture.

"It's. . ." my voice trailed off, not sure how to describe the strange feeling it was evoking in me. "Wonderful."

Silence ensued next to me. I saw his face change in my peripheral vision. I could have sworn his smile had fallen to a frown or a neutral expression. I didn't look at him, but kept staring to absorb each detail.

"It's a little busy with all the details in the bark," I traced the weathered trees with all the heavy lines pointing up and down in near parallel lines. "But the shading, and the lighting, and the contrast... It fits the image perfectly. The leaves by her face are so well contrasted to her dress, and her skin stands out perfectly with the trees."

"Perfectly. . ." he whispered.

I looked up at Stefano, seeing he was staring at me. His gaze was intense and almost distant. He wasn't lost in his thoughts, but his eyes were shifting around me as though seeing something. I turned around to see what he was looking at.

Instantly a hand grabbed my chin, pulling my face back around. Stefano's hand had pulled me back around to stare at him, grip firm and unrelenting. He had leaned forward to grab me, and his concentration was partially lost. Soon the intense gaze resumed and looked around my face and passed me. The cool leather shaping my chin didn't leave, holding me in place as he continued to gaze at me. A slight smirk appeared on his lips, causing me to notice, then turn my own gaze away in embarrassment. I could see his green eye widening, in mania or excitement I wasn't sure.

We sat there like that as people passed us, some I noticed were staring since we were both sitting like statues on the bench. I realized a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. Most people caused an uncomfortable feeling when they touched me, like cactus needles rubbing underneath my skin. However, this wasn't being triggered while Stefano held my head in place. I could smell his cologne again more faintly this time and the scent of a photography lab, causing a memory to surface from when I took a traditional photography class for my degree.

Finally he let go of me and I backed up. My back protested as I sat up, realizing he had been pulling me slowly towards him. It popped loudly as I sat straight, pulling away from his figure to grab my bag again.

"Excuse me for that, a new image came to my mind and I had to form it properly." He laughed it off slightly.

I looked down at my watch out of habit, then realized I was several minutes late to my first morning class. I grasped the portfolio, still laying in my lap, and handed it to Stefano who had begun to stand up.

"I'm so sorry, I need to leave. I'm late for my class, and I--"

A hand grabbed mine, pulling me up. The strength of the pull made me land awkwardly into the chest of the man who had grabbed me. I looked up into Stefano's eye, a neutral look on his face, but a strange glint in his eye. He frowned, and his eyes narrowed.

"Well, I too am late, bella Rosa," he said while frowning. "I was on my way to a meeting when you ran into me."

His tone implied he hadn't stopped me again and chose to show me his pictures a few minutes ago.

"But, I shall forgive you," he said quietly as he leaned down. "If only you live up to your charm from the first time we met."

He pressed his lips against my forehead, a hand pressing flat against the back of my head. They were warm and soft against my skin. My eyes fluttered closed, making my other senses more noticeable. I was aware of a warmth in my stomach, something odd and new, like a fire or a sick nauseous feeling spreading through me. I swallowed as a lump formed in my throat. His lips against my forehead were gentle, and they lingered probably a little longer than was socially acceptable. His fingertips twitched against my skull, then pulled away. His lips slid up my forehead as he pulled away, lifting his head. My eyes fluttered back open, still not sure this had really happened.

"Hopefully you are still my good luck charm, bella Rosa." Stefano chuckled, smile stretching to one side of his face. He backed away a little, tucking his portfolio under his left arm. "Perhaps we will meet again, and if we have enough time you may model for me to complete the new image flourishing in my mind."

He walked past me slowly, and I turned with him as he walked away. He turned back and glanced at me with a smile still on his face.

I stood, frozen, as I watched him walk away and disappear around the corner. It took me several moments to recollect myself. I came back to the present as I blinked several times. I ignored the odd ache and burn in my stomach, recollecting my thoughts. I shook my head as I made sure I had all my things and began walking to my class. I couldn't care about being late now, my thoughts more scrambling about a near stranger kissing me on the head.

I tried to push down the thoughts and emotions that continued to surface as I walked into my class. I ignored the people that turned and looked at me as I opened the door and made my way through the back of the room.

My mind wouldn't process whatever was the topic of class that day. I pulled out my sketchbook and eventually started drawing on a new page, just trying to push my mind away from the look in his eyes as he had stared at me.

[tornbetween2loves]

No More Secrets

This fic was a request for the July prompts created by @kinda-iconic for @choicesjulychallenge It was requested by my good friend @riseandshinelittleblossom for an Adrian and Oliva pairing. This is a new pairing for me, I began writing them for the Choices Crossover project. This story does not take place in that AU, although there may be some similarities between the two. I am posting this a day late, this was actually a request for yesterday’s prompt, which was Secrets. Sorry for the delay, but I’ve been super busy this week. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry. I am simply borrowing them.

Word Count: 2723

Warning: this fic contains erotica. Please do not read if you are under the age of 18.

You can find more content for this pairing on my masterlist.

Adrian groaned and winced as he heard Olivia pull the cord to open the curtains, allowing rays from the early morning sun to filter into the room. “Rise and shine, sleepy head! We have a very busy day planned.” Adrian pulled the comforter up over his head, shielding himself from the sun’s burning rays. Olivia spun around and stood at the foot of the bed, her hands poised on her hips. Her lips curled up into a slight smirk as she grasped the bottom corners of the comforter, snatched it off the bed and tossed it aside. Adrian yelped as he hopped out of bed, the sun searing into his naked skin. He dashed into the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind him. His breath came in short pants as he glanced down at the red sores on his arms and chest. Thankfully, they were already beginning to heal and disappear. There was a soft knock at the door.

“Adrian? Are you ok? What’s wrong?” The concern was evident in Olivia’s voice on the other side of the door. Adrian took a deep breath as he struggled to slow his racing heart and keep his voice even. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry I just really had to pee. I’m going to shower and get dressed then I’ll be downstairs. Will you please make some coffee?” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the door gently. After a pause she answered. “Of course. But hurry up! I want to get all my shopping done before lunch.” He listened as he heard her move to the door and leave the room. He groaned as he slipped his robe on over his still red skin and slipped back into the bedroom. He quickly closed the curtains, then made his way to the closet.

He walked over to a portrait hanging in the dressing area and felt underneath the bottom of the frame until he found a small button. With a click the portrait swung away from the wall, revealing a wall safe. He entered the combination on the keypad and opened the safe to reveal a briefcase. He opened the case to reveal an insert with holes for 20 vials. They were all empty but one. Adrian took a deep, ragged breath as he removed the last vial and held it between his forefinger and thumb. This was it. The last vial. When he decided to invite Olivia to accompany him to New York while he settled his affairs, he had no idea it would take this long. When he decided to relocate his lab to the remote mountains of Lythikos he had begun the process of putting people in place to run his New York operations. But he had miscalculated the amount of time it would take to actually put these plans into action.

He didn’t bring enough serum. And of course Olivia wanted to spend her days shopping and exploring New York City with her dashing billionaire boyfriend on her arm. This was the last day. He would have to do something. He sighed deeply as he drew back the plunger on the syringe, watching as the last of the serum was sucked into the tube. He injected it into his veins, closing his eyes as he felt it begin to spread throughout his body. He felt his blood warming in his veins and sucked in a deep breath. He closed the briefcase and shut the safe, then went to draw back the curtains in the bedroom.

Adrian stood in the morning sunshine, basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays. This was it. The last day he could walk in the sunshine freely.

*******************************

Adrian paced back and forth in front of his desk. Olivia was relaxing before dinner while his stomach was tied up in knots. He didn’t notice the first knock on the door. The second was much louder and more persistent. He opened the door to see Kamilah standing there. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you for coming. I just don’t know what to do.” Kamilah nodded silently as she stepped into the office and closed and locked the door. She took one look at Adrian’s face and could tell he was stressed. “What is it? Why are you so upset?” He walked over to the window and watched the last rays of the sun disappearing as it set. His face was sad and his voice soft as he slowly turned to face his friend. “I took the last vial of serum this morning. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do.” His voice cracked and he turned to hide a tear that rolled down his cheek. “There’s really nothing I can do,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Kamilah.

Kamilah watched her friend for a moment, her heart breaking for him. She knew how hard it was to keep this secret. And yet, as hard as it was to keep, it was even harder to tell. She took a few steps forward and placed her hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “You have to tell her, Adrian. It’s time. She needs to know. You know you can’t hide this from her forever.” He nodded slowly. “Yes, I know. I’m just so scared that she’ll be angry at me for not telling her sooner. Maybe she’ll leave. Maybe she’ll never speak to me again.” Kamilah shrugged. “Or maybe she’ll just love you for who and what you are. Olivia Nevrakis can be stubborn as hell, but she has also proved to be loyal to the people she cares about.” Adrian nodded slowly in agreement, then turned to face his friend. His eyes were filled with worry as he looked at her. “But how do I tell her? I can’t just blurt out that I’m a vampire.”

Kamilah smirked and shook her head. “No, you can’t. That would be a disaster.” She hesitated as she pondered a moment. Then her face broke into a bright smile. “Adrian, don’t tell her your a vampire. Take her out to dinner. Dance with her. Buy her flowers. Then take her home and show her who you truly are.” Adrian’s face lit up. “Do you really think that will work?” Kamilah nodded. “Of course. Just don’t get carried away. You must maintain complete control. You can not feed on her without her permission.” Adrian shook his head. “No, I know that. Of course not.” He walked around to sit down behind his desk. He picked up the phone and called to make reservations as Kamilah let herself out the door.

*********************************************

Olivia’s eyes widened as Adrian pulled up in front of Per Se, Manhattan’s most exclusive French restaurant. “This is where we’re having dinner?” She squealed with delight. “The tasting menus here are world-renowned.” She smiled slyly as she glanced at Adrian out of the corner of her eye. “Is this some kind of special occasion?” He smirked and leaned over to kiss her softly, an eyebrow raised. “You could say that, I guess.” He flashed her another smile as he opened his door and came around to open the door for her. He held her hand as she stepped out of the vehicle and Adrian tossed the keys to the valet. They walked into the restaurant hand-in-hand as the hostess smiled and greeted them. “Good evening Mr. Raines. I have your table ready.”

They sat in a private booth near the window with a view of the city below them. Olivia smiled from ear to ear. “Adrian this is amazing!” She looked out the window as their server approached with a bottle of champagne. He popped the cork and filled two flutes, then put the rest of the bottle on ice. Adrian looked at Olivia and smiled. “Would you like to hear their menu? They don’t have a printed one because it changes everyday.” Olivia shook her head. “I am perfectly happy with the tasting menu.” Adrian nodded and turned to the waiter. “We’ll take the tasting menu, for two.” The waiter bowed as he nodded and left them alone. Olivia beamed with happiness as Adrian tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He raised his glass of champagne and clinked it gently with her’s. “To us,” he said with confidence he did not feel. Olivia smiled as she repeated the toast and they both drank.

After the tasting menu had been served, a live band began to play a waltz and the dance floor started to fill up. Adrian stood and extended his hand to Olivia. “Will you dance with me?” Olivia smiled as she took his hand. “Of course.” He led her to the dance floor where he wrapped her closely in his arms and they swayed slowly to the music. Something happened to the two of them when they danced together. Maybe it was because of how they met, or maybe it was how their bodies came together as one. They were lost in each other, the rest of the world faded away around them. Olivia gazed into his eyes, entranced by the circle of red around his iris as he held her close. He felt his desire for her building inside him as he locked his lips on hers. He moaned softly into the kiss as he broke it, his lips moved across her cheek to her ear. “I love you, Olivia.” He brushed her earlobe with his lips and ran his tongue along the side of her neck to her collarbone. He ached to taste her to have her blood on his lips. He lightly grazed his fangs along her neck as she trembled and moaned softly into his neck. “Let’s get out of here.” Adrian snapped his head up and closed his eyes as he struggled to maintain his composure. He released Olivia and went back to their table. This was going to be difficult. He paid the check then they headed outside to get the car.

She was all over him as he drove like a bat out of hell. He gasped as she slid her hand between his legs and groped him through his slacks. By the time they got home he was barely able to keep it together. His eyes shone bright red. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t hold back. They barely made it through the door as they tore each other’s clothes off and Adrian pinned Olivia against the wall just inside the front door. He kissed her neck fervently, careful not to use his fangs. She panted and moaned and trembled in his arms. He picked her up and impaled her on his hard member as she leaned back against the wall for leverage. He thrusted wildly as she moaned his name, her head thrown back in abandon. “Olivia, please—there’s something I must—oh god!” Olivia opened her eyes wide and locked on Adrian’s eyes as they glowed bright red. He opened his mouth as a primal roar escaped his throat and she saw his fangs. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He kissed her passionately and switched up his pace, thrusting slowly in and out of her. He tried desperately to reel in his desire to taste her. He buried his face in her neck as he drowned in her scent and his need for her.

Suddenly he felt her mouth hot at his ear, her voice was deep and breathy. “Let go, Adrian. It’s ok. I’m yours. I love you. Take me. All of me.” He snapped his head up to meet her eyes, his cheeks wet from tears of restraint. His voice came out in a gravelly whisper as he began to thrust wildly once more. “I-I love you so much.” Just as the tension snapped in Olivia’s belly, he sunk his fangs deep into the side of her neck, the taste of her sending him over the edge as he drank her deeply. Olivia cried out, her body quivering from the exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain. Adrian withdrew from the bite, running his tongue along each puncture wound to stop the bleeding. They both stood in silence, their foreheads touching, as they panted. Adrian broke the silence first. “Are you all right my love?” He ran his tongue along his teeth, savoring the taste of her blood that still lingered on the tip of his fangs.

“I think so,” she said as she unwrapped her legs from around his waist. She felt just a bit woozy as she placed her feet on the ground. Adrian steadied her as she swayed. “I’m so sorry, I took too much blood. Let me carry you to bed.” He swept her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her gingerly on the bed and propped up her head with pillows. Olivia’s eyes fluttered as she fought to stay awake. “I think I’ll be ok,” she murmured softly. “I just need some rest.” Adrian nodded as he laid next to her and pulled her into his arms. She nuzzled into the crook of his arm and it wasn’t long before her breathing steadied. She was asleep. He breathed a deep sigh of relief as he kissed the top of her head. She was still here. He had shown her all his secrets, and she was still here.

*************************************************************

Adrian awoke to darkness and an odd feeling in the air. He reached out for Olivia but discovered she wasn’t there. He snapped up quickly as he reached to turn on the light on the nightstand. She wasn’t in the room with him. He began to panic as he jumped out of bed, disoriented. Where was his phone? Shit! What time was it. He rushed over to the window and pulled back the curtains just enough to see that the sun was beginning to set. Where was she? Did she leave him after all? She must’ve decided it was all too much. He sighed deeply as he sunk into a chair at the foot of the bed. He sunk his head into his hands and didn’t bother fighting back the tears that stung his eyes. Soon he was sobbing, not caring about the noises he made or how he looked. He was so consumed with sadness he didn’t notice the door open and shut. He barely noticed the curtains being pulled open abruptly. It wasn’t until he felt her arms around his neck from behind and heard her whisper softly in his ear that he began to take notice.

“Relax, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Adrian snapped his head up and locked his gaze on those emerald pools that held his heart. He bolted up and walked around the chair to wrap Olivia in his arms tightly. “I was so scared. I thought I’d lost you. You were gone. Why? Where did you go?” Olivia smiled up at him. “Hey, vampires sleep during the day, right? Well it will take me awhile to adjust to that schedule. I didn’t want to disturb you so I went into the other room. I wasn’t real sure what time to wake you.” She blushed as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry I’ve been dragging you out of bed so early. You should’ve told me.” Adrian shook his head. “How could I? Just blurt it out in conversation? So much was at stake. I was so scared of losing you. I couldn’t risk it.” Olivia pulled away and looked at him sternly. “You could never lose me, Adrian. I’m committed now. You have nothing to worry about. But will you promise me something?” Adrian nodded. “No more secrets, ok?” He smiled and headed for the bathroom. “Deal.” He paused at the doorway and turned to face her once more. “Are you sure you’re ok with all this? I know it’s a lot to handle.” Olivia smirked and put her hands on her hips.

“I’m fine. It’s not so much to handle. Besides,” she raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re a vampire, I’m a Nevrakis. I’d say that’s a pretty even match.” Adrian chuckled as he shook his head. “An even match indeed.” He blew her a kiss and headed into the bathroom.

[multisfabulis]

A Withered Yet Blooming Rose

Word Count: 1332

Here’s my second fanfiction! This one is of RWBY and it’s about Ruby Rose!

Where to start? Well, I’ve always had this headcanon that, after the events of Vol.3, it’d be harder and harder for Ruby to keep being the same cheerful, optimistic girl she’s been until, eventually, she breaks down. To me, it’d just be a matter of time till something pushed her over. In this fanfic, I decided to explore and give depth to my HC.

This is taking place during Vol.6, after everyone gets to Argus and team JNR find out about Ozpin and Salem. It’s basically my definition of a canon-divergence fic which is, although this takes a different path from canon, it still arrives at the same conclusion.

For the possible complaints about Ruby being OOC, my answer is that, at the risk of sounding pretentious, you could say that’s the point of this fic. She’s been trying so hard to play the same character she’s been since the beginning of RWBY post Vol.3 so everyone doesn’t worry over her or freak out at their situation that she’s bottled up her emotions. This fic is of her finally addressing those emotions and letting it all out.

I also tried my best to work with the information I read about Aura, Semblances, Argus, etc. but I probably still got some aspects wrong so bear that in mind.

As always, I hope you enjoy reading this and I will accept any and all criticism you have!

Read on AO3 | Read on DeviantArt

     Ruby’s Aura flickered, its red sheen encasing her body. With how long she had been using her Semblance for, it wasn’t surprising. Still, she couldn’t afford to slow down, not until she was far, far away from Argus. She wanted to go back home to Patch, be with her father and Zwei, to get away from all the fighting. Seeing as how she was on another continent, however, she’d settle for anywhere but Argus.

     She was just…done. Done with the constant setbacks, the infighting, not to mention the fact that she was thrown into an unwinnable war. She wanted to run away from it all because she reached her limit. This became too much for her to handle, which she absolutely hated to admit.

     In her emotional state, she raced up one of the cliffs that surrounded Argus. Her last bit of Aura managed to push her through the snowy forest before depleting completely. She fell to her knees, her legs suddenly heavy and her throat and lungs burning. Without her Aura there to protect her, she was freezing as well. If Grimm were nearby, she’d be in trouble since she didn’t bring Crescent Rose with her.

     She thought she could be the hero everyone wanted her to be. They expected her to be the girl with silver eyes that could take Salem down with ease. Now, she wasn’t sure if that was possible, even with her extraordinary power.

     After all of Jinn’s revelations, Ruby’s hope wavered. Course, she never let it show, much less said anything about it. Hope was probably the only thing they had left on this journey so it was critical they didn’t lose it. She had to have been the stupidest person in all of Remnant to believe that. How stupid was she for thinking everything would be okay, so long as they had hope and each other?

     What kind of terrible leader was she? A good leader wouldn’t let everyone in her group fight amongst themselves. A good leader wouldn’t let her team split up to different parts of the world, circumstances be damned. She knew she couldn’t measure up to the leader she had envisioned.

     Tears dripped onto the snow, darkening it. She never asked to be part of a thousands years war between Ozpin and Salem. She never asked to see her friends die from deaths that were preventable. All she wanted was to be the kind of Huntress Yang had read stories to her about when she was a young child. If she couldn’t even protect the ones dear to her, what hope did she have of becoming a Huntress?

     A chilling wind blew red rose petals ahead of her. She thought it strange, since her petals would’ve disappeared shortly after her Aura did. More petals seemed to beckon her to come and she decided to follow them. Shivering from the cold, she weakly stood up and walked in the direction the petals went.

     They led her to the bluff that overlooked the ocean. The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, dying the sky varying shades of violet. Much of the snow melted long before she got there, leaving behind dark, wet grass. With the exception of a gravestone, it felt as if she were visiting her mother again. If only she was; at least she’d be in familiar territory.

     Clasping her hands over her chest, hoping she’d receive an answer, she said, “Mom, what do I do? I thought that, if we stopped Salem, humanity would be saved and life could return to normal. Now… I don’t know if we even have a chance.

     “Ozpin’s disappeared, everyone keeps fighting, Uncle Qrow won’t stop drinking, and… I don’t know if I can keep going on like this. It feels like everything’s stacked against us and I can’t tell everyone to keep looking forward when I don’t even know if I can believe in that anymore.

     “I wish… I wish Penny and Pyrrha were here.” Upon mentioning their names, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as her hands squeezed each other harder. “I-I know they can’t be anymore but I wish they were because… because at least I know their deaths wouldn’t have been for nothing! Their sacrifices in this stupid war wouldn’t have been in vain!

     “I wish I was more like you, Mom. Dad, Uncle Qrow, even Yang won’t tell me anything about you but I just know you would’ve solved this long before now! Tell me what I should do. What should I do?!”

     Of course, that elicited no response. Fresh tears slid down her cheeks as her childish hopes for a sign were dashed. She thought that maybe, just maybe, something would’ve happened and she’d have a way out of her maze of doubts. God, when would she ever grow up and just face reality?

     Warmth suddenly enveloped her body. There’s no way her Aura could’ve regenerated that quickly, especially in this kind of weather. It almost felt like a hug, something she so desperately wanted at this point.

     A red maple leaf fluttered by out of the corner of her eye. Wondering where it came from in the middle of winter, she spied something interesting. Over on the other cliff was a three-tiered tower, settled right on the edge. Not just any tower, though; a CCT support relay tower, to be exact.

     At that moment, a firefly flew over and nuzzled her tear-streaked cheek. She didn’t know what was weirder, a maple leaf or firefly appearing in the dead of winter. Either way, they shouldn’t be able to exist in this cold weather. Maybe they were signs from whoever dictates the powers that be, or maybe they were…

     A plan began formulating in her head. If she and everyone else were to get to Atlas, she needed to come up with something and fast. It may be shoddily put-together and may not even work but something was better than nothing. She’d need to discuss this with Jaune before going ahead with it.

     Drying her tears, burgeoning hope filled her heart. Yes, the last few weeks had been rough on her, as well as everyone else. Yes, the knowledge that Salem can’t be destroyed scared her to no end. However, that didn’t mean they had to roll over and accept the fate of death. If she had to die, she’d want it to be from trying to stop Salem because at least it meant she did something rather than nothing.

     She needed to remember she wasn’t alone. Her team and allies were with her, ready to help her with whatever they had. The good people that died along their journey were watching over them, cheering for their success. Once this war was finally over, she’ll become the Huntress she’s always dreamed of.

     Feeling revitalized, she activated her Semblance. Some of her Aura came back and she hoped it’d be enough to take her down the cliff. As she ran, she only had one thought on her mind. A thought that would motivate her, keep her hope and determination up, a reminder to share with everyone.

     No matter what happens, keep moving forward. If you ever feel alone, don’t forget that there are people there to remind you you’re not. Most of all, never lose your hope, even in the face of adversity.

[ladywinchester1967]

Mr. and Mrs. Winchester

Pairing: Dean x Female Character

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Female (Dean’s Wife)

Warnings: Language, SMUT, quickie sex, robbery (for a good reason). 

A/N: Based on THIS POST it’s a continuation of my comment, but I changed a couple of things around so that it was cohesive and made sense. Unbeta’d, as usual, all mistakes are mine. Pictures and gifs are NOT, I found them on Pinterest and tumblr. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This was one of those stakeouts I knew we were dreading, but in our line of work, it was a necessary evil.

The Winchester Brothers and I had been tracking a cursed necklace. Made of opals that had been soaked in the blood of virgins, it promised to grant the wearer immense wealth and power, but as with most things, no one ever reads the fine print. The wearer was cursed to die in horrific ways. The horrid history of the necklace was well documented, which of course meant it attracted a wealthy clientele to it. Jody Mills, a Sheriff in Sioux Falls that we were close with, had tipped us off to the necklace’s whereabouts so we decided to put on our best outfits and bid for the necklace so we could get rid of it or lock it away in one of our boxes.

Sam; dressed in a snappy navy blue suit with his chestnut brown hair perfectly combed, went ahead of Dean and I. Dean looked as dashing as ever; the grey suit with matching tie and crisp white shirt he wore perfectly brought out his green eyes and set well against his tanned skin.

His grip tightened on my hand as I took a misstep in the heels I was wearing.

“You okay there?” He chided me gently.

“I’m fine,” I insisted “these are a little higher than what I’m used to.”

I had on a pair of black stilettos, where I was normally more comfortable in wedge heels. The wine red dress with lace overlay perfectly accentuated my skin and matched the blood red lipstick I wore.

I’d gone bold and wore black, winged eyeliner and styled my hair in curls.

“Gotta say,” Dean muttered in my ear as we flashed the fake invitations Sam had crafted for us and we strode into the party like we owned the place “I easily have the best looking date in this place.”

I looked around, most of the people attending were decades older than we were. I already looked young and had been mistaken for a teenager more times than I cared to count.

“We’re married,” I told him, a blush rising on my cheeks “you’re supposed to say that.”

“I only tell you the truth.” He said and planted a kiss on my cheek as we made our way to the bar. Sam made an appearance a minute later, after Dean secured a beer for himself and a glass of wine for me.

“No sign of the necklace yet.” Sam said

“Probably keeping it locked up until it’s time to bid.” I pointed out as a man handed each of us a booklet showing us the items up for auction that night.

“So we bid for the necklace, get it and that’s it?” Dean asked “Seems a little too easy when the bidding prices start at fifty thousand dollars.” He pointed to a tiara in the booklet that had once belonged to Mary Tudor.

“We don’t actually have to cough up fifty thousand dollars,” I reminded him “I’ll bid for it and when I win; one of you creates a diversion while the other grabs the necklace and then it’s a hop, skip and an Impala ride back to the bunker.”

“It’s solid, but we still have to plan for the unexpected.” Sam countered

“Which is why I distract with my womanly assets, if you catch my drift.”

My dress showed off JUST enough of my cleavage and legs, plus the boys always teased that I could flirt my way to world power if really wanted to. Dean chuckled as the three of us moved into the main room of the mansion, on display were some of the items up for auction. Next to the tiara, was a hat worn by Napoleon, a piece of music handwritten by Beethoven; the list seemed to read off like a “who’s who” of history all in one room.

“And these people will pay THROUGH THE NOSE for it.” I told Dean as we came up to a ruby and emerald encrusted bracelet. He hummed in agreement as I admired the bracelet, his hand lightly brushing my hip. I felt the corners of my mouth slide upward as his hand snaked around to my lower back and he leaned into my ear.

“All this money and fancy shit in this room,” he practically growled, his fingertips running over the small of my back “and all I can think about is getting you outta that dress and naked under me.”

I nearly spit out my wine, such brazen words in close proximity to people who probably hadn’t thought about sex since hoop skirts were in fashion! I gingerly wiped the corners of my mouth and looked up at him, he was grinning ear to ear, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

With a jaw line sharp enough to cut glass, JUST the right amount of scruff and those green eyes set, I struggled to maintain my composure.

“That look,” I thought “he could make me come just by staring at me like that.”

His hand barely brushed my backside before a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine.

“May I help you?” I asked, my mouth going into a grin.

His fingers ran up my back, barely grazing my skin; the only barrier being the thin lace overlay that covered my shoulder.

“Oh, I think I can help myself JUST fine.” He said. His tone was gravely but there was no hesitation in it as he gave me the legendary Winchester smirk. The one that made a girl’s knees turn to jelly and turned them into a writhing mess.

“Can’t keep your hands off me, can you Mr. Winchester?” I asked, taking a sip of my wine. I reached forward with my free hand, catching his jacket in my hand. He leaned into my ear and said

“No, Mrs. Winchester, I can’t.”

Damn him, he had me eating out of the palm of his hand!

I flashed my eyes up at him and gave him a grin.

“You wanna get out of here?” I asked, nodding elsewhere into the house.

He tipped the last of his beer into his mouth, droplets of it lingering on his gorgeous mouth.

“Hell yeah.” He said

I knocked back the rest of my wine in a very unladylike fashion and said

“Let’s go then handsome.”

We gave our glass and bottle to a passing waiter who offered to take them for us as we walked back to the bar. It was mostly empty by this point and I spied a staircase. I squeezed Dean’s left wrist and nodded up the stairs. He looked and then his eyes met mine, giving me a subtle nod. My hand briefly brushed over the back of his, my fingers grazing the thin band on his fourth finger, making me grin like a fool. I sauntered up the stairs, putting an extra sway in my hips, knowing full well that his eyes were glued to my ass. Once I reached the top of the stairs, I went straight down a hallway and looked for an unlocked room. It took some doing, but by my fifth attempt, a door popped open and I stepped inside. I felt around for a light switch and found one; this room looked like it was used for storage, as there were shelves full of banker’s boxes on them. I quickly texted Dean my location and I waited. I was practically bouncing with anticipation when the door easily and quietly opened and he slid inside, quickly shoving a chair under the handle and shutting the light off.

“What happened?!” I hissed as I felt around for him in the dark.

I felt his hands grab mine and he said

“Got caught looking for you,” in my ear “had to make a security guard go night night.”

“I can’t take you anywhere.” I teased as my lips found his, warm and soft; always eagerly waiting to kiss mine.

“Shoulda known that from the start.” He said breathlessly as we wrapped our arms around each other, wrapping into another heated kiss. My tongue pressed and swirled with his, making a connection that was both familiar and exciting at the same time as his fingers dug into my ass.

“I wanna take my time,” he moaned “but we’re on the clock.”

“A quickie this round,” I told him as I pulled back and then unbuckled his belt “then you can ravage me later.”

I heard him chuckle as he hiked my dress up over my hips.

“Oh, I plan on it.” He told me as we furiously kissed, our hands and mouths seeming to cover every inch of skin we could get to. He backed me into a shelf, his mouth attacking my neck as I pushed his jacket down off of his broad shoulders. He hiked my dress up, the fabric bunching up around my chest, I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then turned around, grinding my ass into his hardened length.

“Mh,” he said and gripped the meat of my backside “just like that.”

I yanked my dress up a little higher as he pulled my panties down and I heard the familiar drop of his pants hitting the ground. I spread my legs a little wider and his substantial length slid inside me, both of us sighing. He gripped my hips and fully sheathed himself, hitting my sweet spot. I cried out and snapped a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out too loudly.

“Fuck,” he said quietly “so fucking wet sweetheart.”

He started to pound into me, the sound of his skin cracking against mine and the rustling of fabric coursing through the small room.

“Oh fuck!” I moaned as I gripped the shelf hard, it felt like being consumed by fire, the heat from between my legs filled the rest of my body while his grunts in my ear and breathless promises of what he was going to do to me later only added fuel to the fire.

“Dean, oh god Dean!” I cried out

He pulled out and spun me around. In one fluid motion, he picked me up and slammed back inside me, my back against the shelf. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he kissed me, nailing my sweet spot with such accuracy, it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

“That’s it,” he moaned against my chest as my thighs clenched around him and my nails dug into his shoulders “fuck sweetheart, you’re so fucking sexy.” His hands held my face as I snapped my hips into him and I could feel him smiling as he kissed me “so eager, you wanna come sweetheart?”

“Please,” I begged as I kissed him “please Dean, make me come.”

“Mh,” he said between another blistering kiss “you know how much I love it when you beg for me.”

“Please Mr. Winchester?” I asked, pulling out the last stop I could think of. That was one of the sentences I KNEW would get him good and fired up. It was like a switch flipped and he pounded into me hard as he moaned into my mouth. I was right there at the edge, squirming and moving my hips with his as best as I could. I slipped my hand between our bodies and furiously rubbed my clit as I felt his movements falter and he cried out against my mouth, spilling into me as he gripped me hard. I let go, biting his lip as I exploded around him. Our labored breathing filled the room as we heard what sounded like a troop of people walk past the door.

“Did you see which way he went?” One voice asked

“No, but I know exactly what he looks like!” The second voice shouted.

“Can’t have gone far, search every room in the house if you have to!” The first voice instructed.

We waited until it sounded like they were gone before either of us spoke.

“I think that’s our cue to get the hell out of here.” Dean said as he pulled out of me.

“This is exactly why I can’t take you anywhere.” I told him as we put ourselves back together. For the first time, I noticed a blueish glow in the darkened room and I asked “Is your phone ringing or something?”

I heard him reach in his pocket and grab his phone. He switched on the flashlight and said “No, why?”

His face had a thin sheen of sweat on it and red smudges of my lipstick all over his mouth and cheeks.

“Cut that light off.” I told him and he did. Once my eyes had adjusted to the darkness again, I followed the blue light to the back of the room and saw it was coming from a very small crack in the floor. “Dean, look at this.” I said and pointed it out. I crouched down and felt around until I found a tab with my fingers and pulled up. Inside was a glass case that held the necklace. Encrusted with black diamonds and nine dark opals ranging in size; I could practically feel the dark energy rolling off of it. I reached for the handle to the case when we heard the door to the room rattle.

“Fuck.” Dean swore as someone furiously jiggled the handle.

I quickly opened the case and shoved the necklace into my purse.

“Got it?” Dean asked and I nodded. “Window.” He told me and we rushed further back into the room toward a window as the door got kicked in. Dean quickly shattered the window, glass raining down on the floor, making an alarm sound. He jumped down a few feet before opening his arms to me. I glanced back as two guys twice my size ran toward me. I secured my purse and jumped out of the window and safely into his arms. Once I hit the ground, I took my shoes off and we ran for the back of the property. We tore through a grove of trees, roots and brambles scraped and cut my feet, before hanging a sharp right and jumping a low, stone wall into the next yard. Dean grabbed my shoulder and motioned toward the road where his Impala was parked.

“They’re not gonna let up,” he told me “we have to move.”

“What about Sam?!” I hissed as we heard thunderous footsteps approach.

Dean quickly scooped me up and we hid in the shadow of a large oak tree.

We heard a low whistle that sounded like a bird and we waited as the footsteps came to a stop. I knew that whistle and looked up at Dean, who answered with a whistle of his own.

Another pause, and the same whistle answered and I peeked around the trunk of the tree to see a familiar outline in the shadows. I sharply tapped the back of Dean’s hand with my fingernail and signaled for him to look. He did and hissed

“Sam?!”

The tell tale crunch of leaves followed Sam’s face showing in the moonlight.

“That alarm went off so I’m assuming you got the necklace.” Sam said in his sassiest tone.

“Correction, I got the necklace.” I said and held up my purse “let’s get the hell out of here before someone finds us.”

As soon as the sentence left my mouth. We heard more people walking and shouting things at each other.

“Hop on Thumbelina!” Dean said and turned his back to me.

I jumped on him, piggy back style, and held on as he as Sam navigated down the hill and back to the Impala. Once we were inside and down the road, I threw the necklace into a warded box and locked it tightly.

“There!” I said triumphantly “We lock this away in the bunker or one of our lock ups and we’re solid.”

“Great work back there everyone.” Dean said as he pulled on to the highway.

“Dean, what’s all over your face?” Sam asked, finally getting a good look at Dean. Sam swiped a finger across a red smudge in’s Dean’s face and Dean grinned when Sam showed him his finger.

“My wife’s lipstick.” He said proudly.

From the back seat, she laughed and Sam groaned loudly.

“I’m never going on a stakeout with you two again!” He exclaimed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

How was that?! Are you guys okay?!

Kind feedback is always appreciated and welcomed. Please share, like and follow (pretty please?!) as always; all my boxes are open and I do requests!

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[huntershelper25]

Path of the Chosen: Ch 2

PotC: Ch 2

Summary: Brooke is a 21 year old girl who’s life is flipped upside down when she receives a phone call from someone she hasn’t heard from in years. This phone call leads to events that cause her to get sucked back into the lives of two young men whom she hasn’t spoken to in years. Her life is never the same. Along the way she learns a secret about herself that not even her father had known. She is forced to face her destiny. Which path will she choose: duty or family?

A/N: I suck at summaries. I started writing this fic YEARS ago. It was posted here on Tumblr, but I have made some edits recently and have decided to repost it. This requires some introduction. I had a thought one day of what the show would look like if there was a female character that was brought in that actually stuck around for longer than a season or two. And because the thought wouldn’t go away this story and Brooke were born. I had a lot of good feedback the last time I posted this years ago so I decided to repost it for my new followers with some edits.

Disclaimer: There is a LOT of direct quotes and scenes from the show. I do not own any of it. I only claim the character of Brooke and how she fits into the story. All else is credited to the writers and copyright holders of the show Supernatural

Warning: There is some rated MA smut thrown in randomly for the first 5 chapters as flashbacks to establish timeline, character building, and relationships, but after that the smut dies off.  Also, let’s just assume condoms are implied. They aren’t mentioned, but let’s assume they are used.

Word Count: 3297

Pairings (through entire story): Dean/Brooke (OFC), Sam/Brooke (OFC)

Previous chapters

  Chapter 1

Chapter Two

Brooke woke to the sound of voices, rolled over and saw that it was ten in the morning. She figured she better get her ass outta bed and make herself useful. If she kept herself busy she might be able to fend off another night like the last. She slipped on some fresh clothes and tied her hair up in a pony tail, before she made her way down the stairs. When she reached the landing she froze. The voices mixed in with Bobby’s were voices she knew. Voices she hadn’t heard in years. They belonged to Sam and Dean.

They were talking about how they had found the thing that killed their mom and how a demon that seemed to be working for it was killing off their friends because they had found the colt. The colt was rumored to be able to kill anything, even demons, not just send them back to hell, but kill them for good. All hunters believed this gun to be fictitious, but if a demon had its panties in a twist over John having his hands on it than the rumors must be true.  They talked about how the demon offered John a truce if he would give up the colt. Of course John wasn’t that stupid so he left the real gun with the boys and took a fake to meet up with the demon. Apparently the boys had located the thing that killed their mom and John was giving them the time they needed to use the colt and take care of it for good. That’s when he went missing.

Anger grew inside her at the mention of John, the man who was responsible for all this, the man that had gotten her father killed. She wasn’t angry with the boys; they obviously would have had no clue as to their father’s plan, that’s how John was. If the demon that killed her father had John and the boys planned on going after it she wanted in. She slowly made her way down the stairs, careful not to make any of the stairs squeak. As she walked into the kitchen she heard Dean say to Bobby, “Thanks Bobby, thanks for everything. To tell you the truth I wasn’t sure if we should come.”

“Nonsense,” Bobby replied, “Your daddy needs help.”

“Well yeah, but the last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buck shot. You cocked the shot gun and everything.”

“John seems to have that affect on people,” She said as she leaned against the door way with my arms crossed. Dean turned around; a look of utter surprise on his face, while Sam looked up from a book and without hesitating walked towards her and with his six foot five frame took all five foot nine of her up in a hug. Brooke noticed that she still had that same uneasy feeling in his presence that she had had when they were kids. “Hiya Sam.” she said when he put me down. She glanced over at Dean, who averted his eyes, “Dean.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked with a hint of concern.

“Hiding out,” she shrugged. “Your dad called me yesterday and told me…” she couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud, “told me what happened and, uh, said I should hide out here until this is all over, just in case.”

“I don’t know exactly how much ‘hiding out’ you’re gonna be doing here,” Dean said with a scowl on his face.

“What do you mean?” She glanced from Dean, to Bobby, to Sam, and back to Dean.

“It’s coming here, or at least we hope it is.” Sam interjected when Dean declined to answer.

“The demon? The one that killed… Pastor Jim and Caleb?” She just couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

“Yeah, Bobby has this idea that we can trap it in one of these protective circles,” He walked back to the book he had been reading when she walked in. “See.” He turned to a page depicting a circle, within which were a pentagram and another circle. Within the circles were odd symbols and letters.

“They really work?” She asked. If Sam was right and that thing was coming here she wanted to be sure they could trap it and return the favor.

“Oh yeah, you get a demon in one they’re trapped, powerless. It’s like a satanic roach motel.” Bobby said as he took a seat on the edge of his desk.

“Man knows his stuff.” Dean said breaking his silence.

“I’ll tell you something else too.” He looked at Sam and Dean. “This is some serious crap you boys have stepped in. Normal year I hear of, say three demonic possessions, maybe four tops.”

“And?” Dean asked as he took a seat on the couch.

“This year I heard of twenty seven so far. You get what I’m sayin?” He looked them each in the face. “More and more demons are walking among us. A lot more.”

“Do you know why?” Sam asked.

“No, but I know it’s something big. Storms comin and you boys and your daddy are smack in the middle of it.” Bobby glanced over at Brooke, “and dragging others in with ya.”

Just then the dog began to bark. Bobby and Brooke dashed to the window and through the blinds saw the chain, but no dog on the end of it. Brooke’s head began to swim, “Something’s here,” she said just as the back door was busted down and in walked a gal with short blond hair.

Dean reached into his pocket and came out with a flask of which Brooke assumed contained holy water. He took a step towards the girl who took one look at him and with a wave of her hand sent him flying across the room. Definitely a demon!

“No more crap.” She turned her attention to Sam, “I want the colt Sam, the real colt, right now.”

“We don’t have it on us. We buried it,” Sam said as he backed out of the kitchen into the study.

“Didn’t I say, ‘no more crap?’ I swear after everything I’ve heard about you Winchesters, I gotta tell you, I’m a bit underwhelmed.” She slowly walked after Sam as Brooke helped Dean to his feet. “First John tries to pawn off a fake gun and then he leaves the real gun with you two morons. Lack luster man. I mean did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

“Actually we were counting on it.” Dean said as he walked into the study with Brooke on his heels. The blonde chick gave him this evil look. To which Dean replied by looking up. Brooke followed his gaze to find one of those protective circles painted on the ceiling. If Bobby was right, this chick wasn’t going anywhere.

She stood back as she watched Sam and Dean tie the chick to a chair, bringing back memories of her time in the chair.  “So this is the demon that’s been ganking people, I assume?” Brooke asked Sam as he walked by. Her head continued to swim as she shared presence with the demon, a sensation she had gotten used to over the years, but still found unsettling. Her dad had been the only one who knew this about her.

“Yeah, that’s me.” The blonde chick answered for him. “You look familiar. Have we met?”

“Highly doubt it. I’m sure if we had you wouldn’t be here to talk about it.” Brooke took a step towards the girl, a menacing glee welling up inside her as she realized she was about to exact her revenge.

“Oh, now I see it. The family resemblance.” A smile crept across the girl’s face. “I’m the one that watched your daddy choke on his own blood. Yeah he looked just like you do right now just before my blade slid acro-“ Brooke slugged her across the face with all the force she could muster. The blonde chick just laughed.

Sam grabbed Brooke’s arm and pulled her out of the room, giving her a disciplinary look. She jerked her arm out of his grasp and turned to find Dean giving her a complimentary look from the other side of the study.

“I salted the doors and windows. If there are any demons out there, they ain’t gettin’ in.” Bobby said as he entered the room screwing the cap back on a metal container.

The boys exchanged looks and Dean stepped in front of the girl. “Where’s our father, Meg?” The demon had a name, interesting.

She smiled, “You didn’t ask very nice.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Where’s our father, Bitch?”

“Geeze, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” She let out a little giggle, “Oh I forgot, you don’t.” Brooke closed my eyes and sighed, talking about Mary was a sure way to piss Dean off, which it did.

“You think this is a frickin’ game?” He practically yelled as he leaned over the chair, putting his face in hers. “Where is he!? What did you do to him!?”

“He died screaming. I killed him myself.” Meg said almost reluctantly.

Brooke watched Dean’s back go rigid just before he back handed Meg across the face.

“That’s kinda a turn on, you hitting a girl.” Meg said with a flirtatious look on her face.

“You’re no girl.” Dean said with disgust.

“Dean.” Bobby stood up and walked out of the room.

Dean turned to follow and Sam fell into step with him, “You okay?”

“She’s lying, he’s not dead.” Dean said in anger.

“Dean you gotta be careful with her. Don’t hurt her.” Bobby said once they were all convened in the kitchen.

“Why?” Dean said with a look of confusion on his face,

“Because she really is a girl, that’s why.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam interjected.

“She’s possessed. That’s a human possessed by a demon, can’t you tell?” They all looked back at Meg. Who looked back at them with a crooked, cynical smile.

“You’re trying to tell me that there’s a girl in there somewhere?” Dean asked with surprise.

Bobby just nodded.

Brooke instinctively reached up and ran her fingers over her scar, and quickly realized that yesterday’s makeup may not be covering it so well. She saw Dean’s gaze catch her movement. He saw her putting her hand to her face and the look on his changed from frustration to defeat. Then it hit her.

“That’s actually good news.” She said. She rummaged through the piles of books until she found the right one. “Exorcism.” she said when she received quizzical looks from all three of them. Each of them replied with a look that could only be described as “duh”. She quickly found the page they needed and handed the book to Dean, who happened to be looking over her shoulder.

“Nice.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Here Sammy, my Latin’s a little rusty.” He handed the book to Sam and walked back into the study. Sam gave Brooke a look asking if she wanted to do the honors, but she waved him off. Her Latin was a little rusty too, that and rather than worrying if she was pronouncing things correctly she preferred to watch the bitch suffer.

Back in the study Brooke stood directly in front of Meg, the better to see her squirm. She had killed her father and for that she was going straight back to hell.

Meg’s gaze moved from Brooke, to Dean, to Sam who was holding the book.

“You gonna read me a bedtime story?”

“Something like that.” Brooke smiled.

“Hit it, Sam.” Dean said from behind her.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”

“An exorcism? Are you serious?” Meg looked Brooke straight in the eye.

“Oh we’re going for it baby, head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards.” Dean said as he walked around the chair.

Through all this Sam continued to read. “Ergo, draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas,”

Meg began to cringe and Sam stopped reading and looked at Dean.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Meg said. “I’m going to rip the bones from your body.”

“No, you’re gonna burn in hell, unless you tell us where our dad is.” Dean leaned in from behind her and said in her ear. Meg just stared forward. “Well at least you’ll get a nice tan.” He looked up and gave Sam the signal to keep reading.

“eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis, Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili Nomini quem inferi tremunt Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine.”

Meg began to writhe in pain as Sam continued to read the exorcism.

“AH!”

Sam stopped reading.

Meg looked Brooke straight in the eye and said, “He begged for his life you know. Your father and theirs.” She looked from Brooke to Sam. “Your dad begged with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his boys one last time. That’s when I slit his throat.” Sam and Dean exchanged looks and Sam went right back to reading, a look of determination on his face.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica”

Dean walked around and confronted Meg to her face. He leaned in and said, “For your sake, I hope you’re lying. Cuz if it’s true, I swear to GOD! I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter, each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me god.” Meg cried out in agony as Sam continued to read. “Where is he?” Dean asked as he began to walk around the room once more.

“You just won’t take dead for an answer will you?” Meg said in between grunts and groans.

“WHERE IS HE?”

“DEAD!”

“NO HE’S NOT! HE’S NOT DEAD! HE CAN’T BE!” Every muscle in Dean’s body was tight as he tried to restrain himself from striking the demon, the only thing that knew where his father was. He noticed that Sam had stopped reading and that they were all staring at him. His eyes caught Brooke’s and a flash of surprised crossed his face as he recognized the look of anger and hatred that was set upon hers as she looked at Meg. He looked at Sam. “What are you looking at, keep reading.”

Meg began to scream. Watching her writhe around in that chair, watching her scream and moan, was almost too much for Brooke. She wanted to see this demon bitch suffer and be sent back to hell. After all, she had killed her father. But watching it all happen, and realizing the sheer hate and anger that was building up inside of her, stronger than she had ever felt before, it just all became too much for her. This demon was possessing this poor girl. This poor, innocent girl. Making her do things that were unspeakable. The demon may have been the one in pain, but what Brooke saw was this girl, trapped, and incapable of defending herself. Just like she had been. Her heart began to race, and she was almost in a panic as she realized she had to get out of there. She stormed out of the room, no doubt followed by everyone’s gaze, and planted herself at the bottom of the stairs.

She could still hear Meg screaming as Sam continued to read the exorcism, but she couldn’t leave the house. If Meg had brought friends they were certainly outside just waiting for someone to come out. So Brooke covered her ears and started humming to herself. She started humming an old Johnny Cash song, her father’s favorite singer. As she sat there on the stairs humming, tears rolled down her cheeks. She was getting her revenge. The thing that killed her father was being sent back to hell where it belonged, than why did she still feel so empty? So lost?

She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, but she suddenly realized the screaming had stopped. She stood, wiped the tears from her face, and walked into the study. All three men kneeled over the girl as she lie on the floor. She was whispering something to them, as Brooke drew closer all she caught was the word “Sunrise” and then the girl was gone. All three of them had looks of remorse on their faces as they stood up. There was a moment where they all looked at each other, as the realization that this girl was dead sunk in.

“We should call someone.” Brooke said softly, her voice still choked up from crying.

Bobby picked up the phone and made the call while the boys cleaned up the chair and got rid of the restraints. Brooke couldn’t make herself do anything except look at the girl. She had nothing to do with this. She was just some poor innocent girl who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and was possessed by some demon, and now she was dead. She was used as a meat suit and made to do god awful things, including killing Brooke’s father.

“What happened to her do you know?” Brooke asked no one in particular.

“What do you mean?” Sam replied.

“I mean what happened to her that killed her? It wasn’t the exorcism; it had to be something else.” She turned to face him.

“She fell out a seventh floor window.”

She nodded and walked into the kitchen, another innocent victim of this fight against evil.

“Thanks.” Bobby hung up the phone. “You boys get everything cleaned up?”

“Yeah, no evidence of foul play.” Dean said as he wiped his hands on a dish rag.

“Well you boys better get outta here before the paramedics get here.” Bobby said ushering them out. “Brooke and I will handle it from here.” He gestured towards Brooke as she stood by the back door.

“What are you gonna tell ‘em?” Dean asked as he put his jacket on.

“You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I’ll figure something out.” He handed Sam the book that contained the protective circles, “Here. You might need it”

“Thanks.” Sam said taking the book.

“Thanks, for everything,” Dean said with a nod.

           “You boys just get your daddy back, and when you do, you bring him around, you hear, I won’t even try to shoot him this time.” Bobby gave them a half smile and turned back to the study.

           Brooke opened the back door for them. Sam stooped down and gave her a hug as he said good bye, then headed out the door.

           Dean paused with his hand on the door and turned to look at her. “You alright?”

           She tilted her head up to meet his gaze, at six foot one; her eyes were just about level with his nose. “No.” she replied softly.

           He closed his eyes and sighed. “Sorry, stupid question.”

           “It’s just a lot right now, you know,” He nodded his head slowly, “but don’t worry about me.” She punched him lightly in the stomach and gave a half assed smile. “I’ve been through a lot in my life, and I’ll get through this too, eventually. You just worry about finding your dad.”

He didn’t say anything. He just put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a heartfelt look, then walked out the door.