#we cleaned her cage and put a mirror in there to distract her

[sscrambledmeggss]

mimi is sick :(

[bloodycassian]

uneasy allies part one - reader x azriel ENEMIES TO LOVERS

He’d killed his way though hell for his high lord. He’d done all Rhys had ever asked, and this was how he was repaid. 

Azriel’s shadows flared and licked the cave walls as he stared at the one he’d been forced to free. His hands were not gentle when they reached for your arm. You only held a smug smile for him, and it only served to piss him off further. He’d risked his life for this. For the likes of you. 

He was going to have words with Rhys when he got home. Possibly a yelling match. Just as soon as he locked you in the deepest cell he could find in the house of wind. 

+

Yes, the shadowsinger had come to unlock your cage. Did it mean your recklessness with the Night Court’s temper would be dampened? No. not in the slightest. So you’d made sure to keep that shit eating grin on the entire time Azriel walked you down flight after flight of stairs, enjoying the way he tensed for a fight if you so much as wiggled a finger. 

The house wasn’t anything surprising. Graceful, elegant and charming. And utterly bland. The deeper you went however, the resemblance slowly transformed into the eerie halls of the Hewen City. The faelight stretched thin, until even they were gone. And the torches adorning the walls seemed to darken with Azriel’s quiet rage seeping out from him. 

“Is my punishment to walk these damn stairs with you or are we actually going somewhere?”

He hissed, yanking you further down until you reached a landing, just off of it a sealed door. Bright wards engraved into the rock surrounding the arch. He waved a hand, as if he were annoyed he had to do it at all and entered. Your mind went blank at the sight of the room. It wasn’t matching the stairwell at all. Not those ever darkening stones leaking of moss and mountain water. Not the dim torches and cold, unforgiving steps… 

This was an apartment, almost. The dominant part of the long room was the bed, it’s gossamer pale shroud giving it a soft yet warm glow. Some kind of faelight interwoven into the lace. Just across from it was a wall sized obsidian rock. Polished clean to the point it resembles a mirror. And behind it… you nearly gasped. The stone served as a door to the private bathroom, where the shower was dripping. 

“It’s always on. Get used to the noise.” Azriel began backing away, to the door. Your surprise at the ‘cell’ he’d brought you to had distracted you long enough not to notice he’d let go of your wrists. 

“What the hell am I supposed to do here?” You demanded, searching the room for any other exit. It was foolish, but better to at least have that part covered. Of course he wouldn’t put you in a cell with an escape. From the looks of the warding it seemed not even Helion himself would be capable of getting out.

His smile turned wicked. That of a game master, knowing they’ve won. The way his lip curled up at the side, just slightly made your head rush with rage. The smug spymaster knew just what that reaction he saw was, too. An admission of defeat. 

Perhaps he’d won this round, but he would come to regret the day he’d followed the orders to save you from the sleeping city of prisoners. 

+

Rhys sighed as Azriel’s rant ended. 

“Tell me Rhys. Just what are you planning with her? To burn down Velaris? To have Helion lose any trust in us? If any of the others find out-” 

The high lord held up a hand, “Yes, I am aware.” He was beginning to tire of these lectures. From Cassian, Feyre…Mor had been the only one to seem at least somewhat open to this idea. A weapon for a weapon, and he’d end this war before it began. 

Rhysand approached his brother with outstretched hands. He knew he’d pushed his boundaries with this one, but Azriel was the only spy in the legion he could trust to take care of this particular rescue. If Nuala or Ceredwin had left a trace… Kier would have told Beron within the hour. Azriel took a hand, cautiously. As if waiting for the snake to bite from Rhys’s sleeve.

“Trust me, brother.” 

Az had heard that a few too many times for his liking. 

+

Punch after punch, Cassian grunted against his brother’s blows. They’d been out in the ring for well over two hours now, and Azriel’s shadows had still not even wavered. Neither had Azriel’s focus. Clearly, something was bothering him. And Cassian wanted to ask, was dying to see what had gotten so deep under his brother’s skin. 

But usually with thse things, Azriel was one to hold it down until he drowned it or it exploded from him. 

Cassian had known him long enough though. Had trained with him and Rhys long enough to know how to gauge just where they were at on the pissed off scale. 

He cleared his throat before asking. Azriel didn’t bat an eye; didn’t hesitate before the next perfectly aligned punch to the pads Cas held. So… Cassian let his words out between punches. “If you need a break let me know.” 

Shadows blotted out the sun. Five quick jabs into Cas’s aching hands and Az was gone. 

+

The cell was more equipped than you realized. At first it had seemed completely blank, little to no furnishings or even toiletries. But during your bath, you noticed things… appearing. Materializing slowly from the shadows, a small vanity appeared beside the sink. Along with hand towels, and a long plush rug of emerald green that complimented the faelight. 

And the bed… no, the entire bedroom had changed. The bedding had stayed the same white and cream color, but the frame was a dark oak. The rug beneath it an amethyst shade that almost matched the dark walls. A couch lay beside the bed, dark leather polished and welcoming. Beside it a bookshelf filled with different colored spines and knick knacks. Sculptures that could easily be used as weapons if needed. 

Your towel even seemed to change shades as the room adapted. Going from a bright white to a muddled gray as you circled back to the bed. 

A soft ring of seals being lifted had you whipping towards the door. Wrapping the towel around yourself tighter, even if your own nudity was the least of your worries in a place like this. 

You didn’t know what to expect. But the shadowsinger stalking towards you with brutal, precise steps was not even remotely close. You couldn’t help the smile. The cocky grin that you knew would drive him… insane. 

Only that look in his eye was just that. It was insane. Deep shadow followed him through the open door, shutting it behind him. Your smile fell. 

He did not hesitate when you backed a step at his approach. Didn’t even think twice before placing a scarred hand on your shoulder and pushing you against the wall, the cold making you gasp and drop your towel. Your hands flew to his chest, wishing you had grabbed those stupid sculptures. Wishing you could reach one and knock him in the head with it right now.

“I am going to kill you. I am going to kill you and take your body back to Kier and-”

“Kier?!” You squeaked, nails biting into his scaled armor. He was warm, sticky. As if he’d been running. 

“When I get to see his face when he sees you’re dead-” His lip curled into a feral smile. You’d never seen him like this. After the centuries of feuding even. He’d never given you that look of death. Sure you’d fought against each other beneath, but never with this much…malice. With such promise in his eyes. It was chilling to see.

“Why Kier? What does he have to do with me being here?” You asked, eyebrows scrunching. If he truly thought you were allied with the Lord of the Hewen city then he had truly lost his touch as spymaster. He was not a friend, he was your owner. Your master to serve as he saw fit.

His eyes searched your features. Looking for any hint of falseness. His shadows licked across your legs, reaching up and up and up until they encircled your neck. The heat of his hands and the cool wisps of darkness were in stark contrast to each other. Your own power welled in your palms, writhing and stretching to be released. Sweat beaded at your brow from restraining it. The wards would refuse you. Would zap you again if you tried. 

“You were in his cell. Rhys sent me to retrieve you.” He doubled down, sure that he was right about whatever theory he had. 

“Wouldn’t me being in Kier’s cell prove that I’m not an ally to him?” Did he not�� know of your binding to the lord? That your allyship was based off the amount he had paid for you?

“Unless it was a trap.”

“A trap so you could do what, Azriel? Put me in a better cell and wait for the end of the world?” You let your hands go slack, no longer pressing him away. His jaw clenched. “If you think you’re right then why don't you just kill me now?” You challenged. 

He was still for a long moment, his hand tightened only once on your bare shoulder before dropping. His shadows reeled back, opening the door for him as he stalked out. 

The hysteria wore off slowly, and once his footsteps were surely gone, you slid to the floor and began crying. 

+

“We are trying to get her to work with us.” The high lord’s voice was brutally chilling. 

Az knew he deserved this. Deserved worse than this, considering he’d left you naked without even thinking of what that would seem like when Rhys checked in on you later. He’d been so furious, so blind to the facts that he’d gone with the first theory he had.

Rhys should exile him for the interference. 

But his brother had something worse in mind. Something that would put Azriel’s pride in the dirt, just like he deserved. Thankfully Cassian wasn’t here to witness his sentence. He was sure the general would have questions of his own about Az’s sanity. 

“You will apologize. You will make good with her, and put this past feud behind you.” His power rumbled the table, the pure command in his voice nearly bringing Azriel to his knees. He would obey this. He would have to, if he wanted to be trusted with this case. If he wanted to keep his city and family safe. He would. 

Even with the past between you. Even with the fights and whispers of darkness and lies that you’d exchanged with Kier. The name made his stomach churn.

“You have a week.” Rhys unrolled a map onto the large dining table. The house of wind was quiet today, making it a secure space to unveil plans. “We’ll need her.” He muttered, dragging a finger over the areas Cassian was now working.

+

Azriel was uncomfortable. Clearly so. He fiddled with something in the pocket of his trousers as he paced just inside the door of your cell. Seeing him appear at the door had you tensed and ready to fight in a moment’s notice. But he’d come with a scroll, holding it up as a peace offering before opening the door. 

“No fighting this time, spymaster?” 

He gave you a long look. One that told you just the kind of fighting he was thinking of. The ones of bloody mouths and broken fingers at the end of the night, when all your abilities were spent. Used to dodge and fade into mist to avoid his strikes. The reason he hated you so much. 

Kier had found a good place for you beneath the court of dreams. In that pit of a city, filled with vile creatures that thrived of violence and dark, impure terrors of the night. You’d been reigning champion for a long, long while when Azriel came along. A part of a contract with Kier, apparently. That was the only reason you got from your trainer, anyway. Azriel had owed the lord of the Hewen city a favor, and Kier had chosen this. Going head to head with his own shadowsinger. 

The shadows that were now surging to be released. The warding though… You began sweating with the strain of holding them in. 

“I’m sorry about last time.” He muttered, holding up the scroll again. “But we have a few questions. Rhys asked me to… request your assistance.” His lip curled when he said it, as if he were ashamed. THis was a punishment, no doubt. For breaking into your chamber and threatening you. 

You hadn’t told the high lord of the incident, but you were sure that you weren’t left alone for a moment in those first few days. Some ghosts in the walls, then. Spies even in the deep veins of the mountain, it seemed. At least they got to enjoy a show, then. 

“And what if I refuse?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t like you had another option besides helping. You were their prisoner, subject to whatever they required of you. 

“I don't think you want to do that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as he laid out the long map of Prythian on the dark dining table that had appeared on the second night. He rested a knee on the bench beneath it, using a spice holder to keep the edges of the map down. He laid out a few others, all close up and more detailed areas of each area. 

“You could send me back to Kier, to the fighting rings if you wanted. Why do you need me?” 

“Because you’re the only other shadowsinger that can bring this down with me.” He handed you a another one of the detailed maps, this one larger than the others… thicker paper as well. 

“What is this, water?” You could tell half of it was the Autumn court border, but the other half… He took the paper and flipped it. 

“That is a storm. Or a wall, a barrier of some kind. We can’t tell.” His grip tightened, the paper curling under his grasp. “I’m.. I cant do anything about it alone. Rhys thinks that we could figure it out. It grows every week. We have no idea what it is.”

It came together then, what the long black shroud was over the closeups was. It wasn’t a full map, it was paintings. Following the border, on the winter court’s side was an enormous wall of shadow. A black chasm of nothingness. “Again, why would I help? You said you would kill me yesterday.”

He didn’t balk at that. Didn’t even hesitate. “Because if we beat this, you’re free. No strings attached.” 

[bing-bang-bingo]

- 4x3: c. 40:00 Cas comforts Dean after Mary makes a deal w/ Azazel

- 4x7: 15:50 Dean stops Sam from shooting Cas, then Sam mentions that he’s “heard a lot about him”

- 4x7: 39:00 Cas tells Dean he prayed he’d save the town, then he tells him about his doubts and Deans future troubles

- 4x10 & ???: Dean calls “last night on Earth” his best line. He uses this line on Cas

- 4x10: 27:15 “Castiel has this weakness. He likes you.”

- 4x10: 32:50 Cas looking jealous and sad when Dean kisses Anna

- 4x16: 7:30 Cas tells Dean he got in trouble for showing emotion and getting to close to Dean. 8:20 “I would give anything not to have you do this”

- 4x16: 39:00 Cas warns Dean to be careful while Dean is in the hospital, they discuss the first seal and saving Dean from hell

- 4x18: 31:30 Cas tells Dean how to save Sam from Lilith even though he’s not allowed to interfere

- 4x20: 38:00 Deans face when Cas tells him he “learned his lesson when he was in heaven”

- 4x22: 30:40 Cas considers rebelling for Dean. 33:00 He does. 35:20 He fights multiple Archangels for Dean

- 5x1: 5:45 Dean denies Cas’ death 8:25 “I learned that from my friend Cas you son of a bitch”

- 5x1: 31:00 Cas saves Sam and Dean from Zach

- 5x3: 6:10 Cas-“I need your help because your the only one who will help me”

- 5x3: 10:20 Dean fixes Cas’ tie and jacket

- 5x4: 38:50 “Don’t Ever Change”

- 5x8: 38:20 Dean makes Gabriel bring Cas back, then makes sure he’s okay

- 5x13: ?:?? Cas won’t let Dean meet with Anna because it’s not safe

- 5x17: 30:30 Cas and Dean discuss what it’s like to have a deadbeat dad

- 5x18: 25:15 Cas kicks Deans ass for trying to sacrifice himself

- 5x21: 3:50 Cas and Dean bickering like and old married couple then Cas gives Dean a heartfelt apology.

- 6x17: 18:55 “No you’re confusing me with the other angel, the one in the dirty trench coat who is in love with you.”

- 6x17: 38:00 Sam: “So you killed 50,000 people for us?” Cas: *looks at Dean*

- 6x19: 25:20 Bobby reassures Cas that they’ll be back soon, Cas acts like a worried and disappointed wife.

- 6x19: 36:25 Cas yelling “Dean!” when Eve bites him

- 6x19: 40:00 Dean is the only one who doesn’t think Cas is working with Crowley (he’s wrong but it’s sweet)

- 6x20: 4:50 Dean v v worried, “But Cas you’ll call right? If you get into real trouble?”

- 6:30 Crowley implies that Cas is distracted by Dean and tells him he reeks of the Impala.

- 7:20 Cas says that Dean taught him how to care and what to care about. Then Cas saves Sam (for Dean)

- 13:15 Cas says that the worst part of working with Crowley (basically his sworn natural enemy) is that it hurt Dean and that he hated lying to him.

- 25:20 Cas refuses to ask Dean for help because he has “sacrificed too much” even though it means Cas could die.

- 26:00 Crowley tells Cas he has a way for everyone to get a happy ending “with all possible entendres intended” while Cas stares longingly at Dean.

- 33:00 Dean is close to tears when he learns that Cas is working with Crowley, Cas says he did it to protect Dean.

- 35:25 “Dammit Cas we can fix this!” “Dean it’s not broken!” He then tells the boys to run from the demon cloud and Dean gives him the saddest look in the world before being forced to leave him behind.

- 38:00 Cas watches Dean sleep. “I’m doing this for you Dean. I’m doing this because of you!”

- 6x21: 22:40 “I do everything you ask. I always come when you call and I am your friend. Still despite your lack of faith in me and now your threats I’ve just saved you yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?”

- 6x22: Dean to Cas- “Don’t make me lose you, too.”

- 7x2: 5:35 Dean nearly cries on screen when he thinks Cas is dead

- 7x17: Cas says “I remember ~you~” as soon as he regains his memories.

- 7x17: Cas ask why Dean didn’t tell him all the horrible things Cas did. Parallels the conversation Karen and Dean had about telling Bobby she remembered him killing her and her telling Dean that he had never been on love before.

- 7x21: The face Dean makes when he sees Cas again plus the prolonged eye contact when Cas says Deans name.

- 7x21: Hester telling Dean that when Cas first saved him from Hell he was lost- parallels- Lucifer/Jess saying she was dead the moment she met Sam.

- 7x23: 8:50 “Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first.” Meg to Dean about Cas

- 7x23: 32:45 “I’m sorry but I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”

- 7x23: 36:50 Cas steps in to protect Dean despite spending the whole season avoiding fighting and saying he won’t fight.

- 8x2: 25:00 Cas ran away to keep the Leviathans away from Dean. Dean refuses to leave purgatory without Cas.

- 8x7: 20:30 Deans reaction to seeing Cas all cleaned up.

- 8x7: Dean convinced himself that it was his fault Cas was still in purgatory because he’s a sweet idiot boy who hates himself

- 8x7: 35:00 The whole Dean and Cas conversation about purgatory and Cas doing stuff that puts him in danger.

- 8x8: 12:30 Cas just casually going through Deans stuff and Dean not saying anything.

- 8x8: 13:00 Cas offering to watch over Dean while he slept

- 8x8: 15:15 Dean talks to Cas about feelings and heaven even though Dean hates talking about feelings.

- 8x17: Cas fights Naomi’s mind control for Dean

- 8x23: 22:50 Dean and Cas sadly discuss Cas closing the doors of heaven and say goodbye

- 9x1: Dean prays to Cas and tells him he isn’t mad about the angels falling.

- 9x1: Cas’ first instinct is to explain himself to Dean then to come help him.

- 9x1: Dean begs Cas to “for once, look out for yourself.”

- 9x3: 36:45 Dean to Cas after Cas came back from the dead “Don’t you ever do that again!”

- 9x6: Literally just Dean trying desperately the whole episode to hang out with Cas

- 9x10: 26:00 Dean and Cas talk about how Cas is doing and Dean offers him a rare sincere apology. Plus the “I prefer the term ‘trusting’. Less dumb, less ass.” dialogue

- 9x18: Cas’ little smile when Dean makes a joke about Honor Bars and Cas is just so happy to hear his voice.

- 9x18: Metatron’s illusion of Gabriel calls Cas Dean’s boy-toy

- 9x18: Cas can tell something is wrong with Dean, then Cas yells at Dean about getting the Mark of Cain

- 9x22: Cas chooses Dean over all of Heaven once again

- 9x22: The Cas and Dean conversation about the three of them being enough when an army wasn’t and Cas giving up an army all for Dean

- 9x23: “I’m blaming you for taking Cas’ grace.”

- 10x1: 5:00 Cas about Dean- “I miss him.”

- 10x2: 9:00 Cas’ reaction to learning that Dean is a demon

- 10x3: The conversation between Dean and Cas at the end of the episode. “You look terrible” “You on the other hand, your looking good.”

- 10x5: Deans reaction to Cas and Dean actors hugging and holding hands

- 10x5: “Put as much sub into that text as you possibly can.” *looks directly at fake Cas*

- 10x9: 15:00 Cas tells Dean he’s a good role model. Then asks him if he’s okay and when Dean lies and says he is he pushes it further. Dean makes Cas promise to kill him if he goes Dark

- 10x22: Dean and Cas fight and parallel Cain and his Wife.

- 10x23: Dean sees Cas’ bloody face in the mirror

- 11x1: Cas being more worried about Dean than himself even though Cas is under a spell that will kill him.

- 11x2: Dean calling Cas and stressing out when he doesn’t answer

- 11x3: Dean trying to coax Cas out of the attack dog spell, refusing to fight back when Cas was attacking, freaking out when Cas took a minute to wake up, refusing to let Cas heal him (because he “had it coming”), and refusing to let Cas apologize (because “there’s nothing to apologize for”).

- 11x10: “Dean, I came as soon as you called.” Also: “Stick your tongue out.” Dean-*does*

- 11x11: Dean realizing that something is wrong with Cas (while he is possessed by Lucifer)

- 11x11: Mildred says that Dean is pining for someone else(probably meant to be a reference to Amara, but she told him this after he had seen Cas for the first time in a few days.)

- 11x14: The sadness on Deans face when he realizes Cas is Lucifer and then his determination to save Cas

- 11x15: Dean getting kinda dark when he talks about what he’s willing to do to save Cas and he prioritizes saving Cas over bearing Amara.

- 11x17: Dean once again prioritizing saving Cas over saving the world. Sam reassuring Dean that they’ll save Cas (even though Dean didn’t say anything about what was upsetting him)

- 11x17: The camera zooming in on Dean after Michelle says that there is no normal after losing the man you love.

- 11x18: Dean refuses to put Lucifer in the cage or let him fight Amara while using Cas as his vessel.

- 11x18: The difference in the way Dean looks at Lucifer vs at Cas

- 11x18: Dean about Cas: “Lets go find that idiot and bring him home.”

- 11x19: Dean has been looking for leads non stop for a week since Amara took Cas

- 11x21: Amara uses Cas’s heart to find Dean, then shows Dean images of Cas beaten and bloodied to convince him to turn against Chuck

- 11x23: Dean’s face when he realizes Cas is back and Lucifer is gone.

- 11x23: Dean tells Cas he isn’t stupid and that he always helps

- 11x23: Cas: “Dean are you okay? How do you feel?”

- 11x23: Cas hugging Dean super tight before he goes off to die. Dean entrusting his life’s purpose (look after Sam) then thanking him for everything.

- 12x1: Cas seeing that Dean is alive and hugging him while his voice breaks.

- 12x1: Cas taking the job Dean have him very seriously

- 12x2: Dean adorably venting to Cas about his mommy-issues

- 12x3: Dean- “Morning sunshine want some coffee.” Cas- “No thank you.”

- 12x7: “Well at least I don’t look like a lumberjack.” They are such husbands

- 12x7: “Engaged in what Cas? killing you?”

- 12x8: Cas being so worried about what happened to Sam and DEAN that Kelly escaped.

- 12x9: Mary-“You left them!” Cas- *voice breaking* “Dean told me to go!” Also, just Cas looking so hard for them.

- 12x9: Cas blaming himself for Sam and Dean being taken

- 12x9 Cas knowing how long the boys have been gone down to the hour.

- 12x9: Cas’s voice and eyes when he hears Dean’s voice on the phone.

- 12x9: Cas killing Billie because “You mean too much to me” and “The world needs as many Winchesters as it can get.”

- 12x10: Poor Sam having to deal with Cas and Dean while they fight like an old married couple.

- 12x10: Dean immediately telling Ishim to go to hell when he insults Cas

- 12x10: Sam telling Dean to go to Cas when Dean thought Cas was in trouble

- 12x10: Cas immediately believing Dean about Ishim even though they’re mad at each other. Dean about to let Ishim kill him to save Cas.

- 12x10: Ishim comparing Dean and Cas’s relationship to Ishims relationship with his human lover, then saying he was going to cut Cas’s human weakness

- 12x11: “And Cas is my best friend.”

- 12x12: Dean about Cas- “My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here...”

- 12x12: Dean stressing out and voice breaking as he tries to comfort poisoned Cas

- 12x12: LITERALLY TOLD DEAN THAT HE LOVED HIM WHILE CAS WAS DYING

- 12x12: *looking at Dean* “I love you.” Then adds “I love all of you”

- 12x12: Cas- “Run.” Dean- “Cas, no.”

- 12x12: The look Dean gives Cas when he won’t stop staring at him after he’s healed.

- 12x14: Dean says some very harsh stuff to Mary after finding out the reason they Cas almost died at the lake house was because Mary was working for the British Men of Letters

- 12x15: Dean could tell something was up with Cas after talking to him for less than a minute, over the phone.

- 12x18: Sam trying to make Dean feel better about not hearing from Cas.

- 12x19: Dean literally always acting like a scorned wife when Cas comes back after long periods of time

- 12x19: Dean made Cas a mixtape

- 12x19: Cas- “I ~needed~ to came back here with a win for you.”

- 12x19: Cas- *gesturing between Dean and himself* “You mean... we?” Dean- “Yes, dumbass, we.”

- 12x23: Dean screaming for Cas when he attacks Lucifer and trying to chase after him forcing Sam to drag Dean back through the rift. A direct parallel to Dean pulling Sam away from Jess and the fire in Pilot

- 12x23: Dean kneeling next to Cas’s dead body looking up at the sky completely devastated.

- 13x1: Dean couldn’t bring himself to say dead when referring to Cas

- 13x1: Dean PRAYED to GOD to bring Cas back

- 13x1: “We just lost ~everything~. And now you’re gonna bring ~him~ back.”

- 13x1: Dean personally wrapping Cas’s body and giving him a hunters funeral.

- 13x1: The look of complete devastation on Dean’s face when he burns Cas’s body.

- 13x3: Dean refusing to help save Jack because he blames him for manipulating Cas and getting him killed.

- 13x4: The Empty to Cas: “I know what you love, what you fear. There is nothing for you back there.” He loves Dean and Cas fears that Dean doesn’t love him back.

- 13x5: Sam being worried about Dean who has given up all hope since Cas died.

- 13x5: Dean being so distressed thinking Cas is gone forever that he tries to kill himself

- 13x5: Dean seeing Cas alive again and they both have tears in their eyes.

- 13x6: Dean hugging Cas and saying he’s been gone for “too damn long”

- 13x6: Dean being immediately happier and nicer to everyone once Cas is back

- 13x6: Cas saying “Yes. Yes, he does” (in response to Jack saying Dean really likes cowboys) with the tone of an exhausted spouse.

- 13x6: “I told you, he’s an angry sleeper. Like a bear.”

- 13x6: Dean made Cas watch Tombstone with him.

- 13x6: Dean and Cas dresses like cowboy husbands.

- 13x6: Cas saying “I’m your huckleberry” to Dean in a deep accent and Dean looking away.

- 13x6: Their undercover names are Russel and Kilmer

- 13x14: The whole scene where Cas and Dean fight Gog/Magog and act like an old married couple.

- 13x14: The angry, dark look Cas gives Donatello when he tries to kill Dean

- 13x16: “Dean has him by the thigh!” Cas, jealously: “He ~what~?”

- 13x16: “and that includes the Cartwright twins.” Cas, again jealously: “what did you do with the Cartwright twins?”

- 13x19: Cas angrily confronting Naomi about forcing him to kill a bunch of Dean clones.

- 13x21: Cas secretly sliding Dean more pizza when Mary and Sam left the room.

- 13x21: Cas having to hold Dean back from going after Sam. Dean would have beat the shit out of anyone else who tried to stop him.

- 13x23: Cas trying to stop Dean from giving himself to Michael even if it meant losing Sam AND Jack

- 13x23: Cas sitting alone in the bum jet with tears in his eyes after Dean left

- 14x1: Demon: “How is it you lost Dean. I thought you two were joined at the... everything.”

- 14x1: Dean trying to save Cas from Lucifer then vs Cas trying to save Dean from Michael now

- 14x3: The look that Dean and Cas give each other when Dean comes home.

- 14x9: Cas almost being happy seeing Dean happy. And then having to force himself to not be happy so he doesn’t die.

- 14x12: Cas being phased at Dean for wanting to put himself in the box with Michael forever

- 14x14: Cas is the only Dean will let talk to him about Michael and be honest about how Dean feels

- 14x14: “No, it’s on us.”

- 14x14: Cas’s voice breaking when he talks about the possibility of Dean dying one day.

- 14x18: The pure self loathing in Cas’s eyes when he feels like he failed Dean by not telling him about Jack’s soul.

- 15x2: “You asked ‘what about all of this is real?’ We are.” THE MOST ROMANTIC LINE EVER. (Plus later Eileen and Sam have the same conversation but they get to kiss because homophobia)

- 15x9- 20:00 Dean said that they lost everyone they cared about, then added Cas specifically. Then he says “I had to bury him” not “we”

- 15x9- 23:00 Dean cries when he can’t find Cas. Then he prays to him and apologizes for letting him go. He falls to his knees praying to him and fully crying

- 15x12: “I created the world.” *shows Destiel*

- 15x15: This time when Dean sees Cas leaving the bunker, he stops him. (In reference to Cas saying “you didn’t stop me” when Dean got mad at him for leaving)

- 15x16: This is the the only version of Cas that rebelled for Dean. This universe is literally being saved repeatedly because of Cas’s love for Dean

- 15x18: CAS CONFESSES HIS LOVE TO DEAN then goes to mega hell for being gay

Anyway, Cas loves Dean and Dean LOVES HIM BACK, OKAY?!?!? Feel free to add more

[aewhore]

Like Old Times ~ Christian Cage x reader

Request by @heatherdawn82 (Hope you love it) 

Summary: Reader and Christian had a casual fling back in TNA and even though they both wanted more neither said anything, so when Christian left for WWE they lost contact, now they’re both in AEW, Fluff ensues! 

Working as a makeup artist for AEW was insane, making these larger than life characters TV-ready was an honour. You would usually be jetting across the country with AEW but due to the pandemic, you were stationed in Daily’s Place and honestly you couldn’t be happier. You were currently doing Britt Baker’s iconic red eye look as you listen to her (lovingly) rant about her boyfriend. “...and so obviously he did eat the last brownie but he refuses to admit it, He’s also blaming the dog! as if that’ll work, can you believe it?” you laugh at Britt’s snack related problems. “I can not believe it! Although I’d love to hear more of your relationship problems, you’re all done, honey.” Britt rolls her eyes at your sarcasm. “Girl when you get yourself a man, you’ll understand.” Britt patted you on the back before walking past you to get back to her locker room. You let out a sign at Britt’s reminder of how single you truly were. You turn back to your make up station to tidy up your brushes and such.  

You were almost finished when you heard the door behind you open. “Oh hey Riho, You can take a seat there and-” You were interrupted when you felt a pair of hands rest around your waist. You look up into the mirror in front of you to see the one and only Christian Cage standing behind you. You immediately turn on your heels to face him. “Hello, beautiful” A smile creeps onto your face hearing that nickname he always used to call you. “Christian, what- You’re here? What are you doing here?” You were completely shocked to see your former lover standing before you. “I’m debuting here tonight and I thought I'd catch up with my favourite lady before I go out there.” He pulled you in closer to him. You were completely shocked, You and Christian had a fling back when you both were in TNA  you had always wanted it to be more than a fling but when he left to go back to WWE, you lost contact but seeing him here in the flesh brought back those same butterflies in your stomach. “You’re debuting tonight? Here? As in AEW?” You couldn’t hide your shock,  You were sure he was going to be in WWE for the rest of his career. Christian laughed at your bewilderment. “Yes, sweetheart I am debuting here, like right out there.” You roll your eyes at Christian’s teasing. “WWE wasn’t cutting it huh?” You were dying to know. “WWE wasn’t going to treat me like the star I have proven myself to be.” You felt for Christian, they never treated him like the star he truly was. You were ready to affirm him in his star quality but a knock at the door interrupts the both of you. “That must be Riho.” “I better get on my way” You and Christian speak over each other. Christian takes his hands off your hips as he turns to walk towards the door, he stops before he reaches the door. “I’ll call you after the show, we can catch up properly.” You smile at his request, excited at the idea of being able to see him again. “I’d like that.” he returns with his million-dollar smile before nodding at you and walking out the door. Riho walks through the open door looking between you and Christian’s now retreating figure, giving you a curious look. “Don’t start.” You jokingly warn before starting to glam up Riho. 

The anxiety of whether Christian would call or not slowly built and built throughout the night. Even after all this time you always saved his number on every phone you had. The night was coming to a close and you were cleaning up your station, unconsciously going slower than usual. You were disappointed however when you finished packing your things but still nothing from Christian, You tried not to let it bother you, it was his debut night he probably just forgot or maybe he’s busy with media stuff. You make your way out of the building and into the car park towards your little mini cooper that you’ve been driving for at least 10 years by now and you’ll continue to drive it till one of you gives out. As you were about to lift your last, heaviest suitcase into the boot of the car you were interrupted. “Hey let me help you with that.” It was him.  

He showed up. You couldn’t stop the smile that broke out. You allowed him to take the case out of your hands and lift it in your boot (even though you could have done it yourself) “Jeez what do you have in this thing? Rocks?” Christian joked after closing your boot. “Thanks Chris. You looked amazing out there.” You had to give the man his dues. “I went to your station but you were gone, I was worried you had left but I came out here to check and-” “And here I am.” There was a comfort that radiated off of Christian. “Here you are. I’m surprised to see this guy still trucking.” Christian laughed as he kicked one of your car’s rear wheels. “Hey, don’t kick my baby! She’s never failed me yet.” You joked back with Christian. You both had been unconsciously moving closer and closer to one another as the conversation flowed between the two of you. It was only after a natural lull in the conversation that you realized that he had covered your hand with his own, giving it small squeezes as he spoke. He had been holding your hand and you hadn’t even noticed, it had just felt so natural like that’s where his hand belonged. 

It seemed when Christian noticed what was distracting you, he moved to pull his hand back. “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep” You didn’t allow him to pull his hand away however, you kept your grip. “It’s ok, I don’t mind, it’s nice.” he looks slightly taken back but a gentle smile washes over his face as he settles his hand back into yours. “You know I promised you a proper catch-up, I know a fantastic little family-owned restaurant down the street I think it’s called Mcdonalds, How about I drive you up there and we can eat in the car like how we used to do after the TNA shows?” You laugh at Christian’s idea of a fancy restaurant. “Are you really asking me for a catch-up or are you perhaps asking me on a date?” You were teasing him because you wanted to hear him properly ask you. “Y/N you know what I meant but if you need to hear it, Y/N may I have the honour of taking you on a date?” You giggle at Christians reluctance to be romantic, Men never change. “Why of course Mr Cage, I would be honoured.” You put on a southern belle accent to make Christian laugh and you were successful. “Gimme your keys, I’ll drive us.” You give Christian a side-eye before digging through your jacket pocket to get your keys, before handing him your keys you had to warn him. “I don’t just let anyone drive my car, by the way, you better treat her right.” You place your keys into Christian’s hand before getting into the front seat. It felt strange to be in the passenger seat but seeing Christian settling into the front seat gave you a sense of ease you hadn’t felt in a long time, a sense of ease you could see yourself getting used to.

[imagine-this-fandom]

The Rescue: BNHA x Fem! Reader- Black rat snake

the rescue intro: here

Leading you back into the main section of the shop, she released your hand and put Izuku into a nearby cage.  Turning back to face you, she pulled out her phone.

“I just need to double-check something with the owner of the shop real quick. He likes to hear about any adoptions I supervise from a particular group of animals we have. You go ahead and look around while I confirm the one I have in mind “

You offered her a smile and a nod before turning to look around. Wandering the aisles of the store, you couldn't help but relax. There was some music playing in the background, too low for you to recognize the lyrics. You noted with amusement that your bird friend, Hizashi, was perched by the radio, bobbing along to it enthusiastically. You started to make your way towards him when a flicker of movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye. Turning to face the shelves of glass tanks, you searched them for the smooth movement that had captured your gaze. Perusing the tanks nearby, you were excited to find the one in the corner occupied. Inside was a large black snake. He was beautiful. Shiny black scales decorated the majority of his body save for his stark white underbelly and chin. It was hard to tell how long he was because he was wrapped up on a branch, coiled tightly as he watched you unblinking.

Tilting your head, your eyes scanned over the little sticker on the corner of the tank telling you his name and breed.

"Dabi, huh? Whoever named you was absolutely trying to be edgy," you crouched so your face was level with the tank and you could see him better. "Dabi is the name of a super dangerous villain, you know?"

Dabi watched you silently, serpentine tongue flicking in annoyance. He was used to the stares and the gawking from other store patrons, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it. You at least weren't tapping on the glass and whining when he didn't do anything interesting. Still, to him, you were a temporary distraction in the long borning sameness his days had turned into. He cursed the day he got involved with the league of villains and the quirk experiments that Shigaraki's "master" put into effect.

When Inko came to find you, she rounded the corner to see you sitting in front of the snake, mirroring his movements and sticking your tongue out in time with his. To be honest, she was a bit nervous about this arrangement, but Nezu had insisted you take the villainous young man home with you. Something about personalities and the change he needed or something like that. Still, if you were somehow the key to breaking the effects of the quirk like Nezu expected then it was worth the worry.

"I see you've found him all on your own!"

You whipped your head around to look at her in shock.

"Wait, a snake? Aren't they super hard to care for?"

"Not really, especially his breed," She answered calmly, offering you her hand to help you off the floor. "snakes are good pets, even if they look intimidating."

Taking her hand, you allowed her to pull you from your kneeling position. Looking back at the snake, you couldn't deny that he was interesting. You always thought snakes were really cool, and with some research, they could be really good pets. Besides, he was the one Inko wanted you to take home, and she knew so much more about him. You could trust her on this, and you honestly wanted to.

"If you help me, I will happily take him home. But you have to give me lots of info about him so I can do research. Okay?"

"It's a deal."

Inko helped you gather supplies for your new pet, making idle conversation and giving you tips on how to properly care for Dabi.

"Be very careful when you handle him, dear. He's got a mean temper and he's nipped me a couple of times. He comes from a not-so-friendly background so he's mistrusting. "

You nodded slowly, expression falling at her words. You would have to be very careful, but you were going to earn his trust no matter what. Inko noted your determined expression as she put supplies into a cart for you, a small smile tugging at her lips. Maybe Nezu was right, you could handle this. Perhaps there was hope for Dabi yet.

Once you had successfully gathered all the possible tools you would need, Inko fetched a pair of heavy-duty gloves and a snake hook. Carefully, she transferred the irritated snake into a bucket to transport him in before quickly latching the top.

"You'll want to make sure his container is firmly latched once you get him home. He's a bit of an escape artist. "

You were a bit concerned due to all the warnings given, but you were more determined than ever to take good care of the snake now within your care. He was going to feel loved, like it or not. Giving her a nod, you carefully took the container from her, cradling it close to your chest to give him any extra warmth you could grant him for the cold journey home.

Inko shooed you out, eager for you to get home before it got any darker or colder. You hugged her tightly before stepping out into the cold with your new pet.

Luckily, the trek home didn't take very long and you found yourself at your apartment door before you knew it.  Stepping inside, you quickly set to heat up the space. You weren't taking any chances in keeping your snake healthy.

"I'll get you settled as soon as I can, buddy. Just hold on for me."

Setting the container aside, you quickly got to work setting up his tank. While you were focused on the task at hand, you missed the lid of the container lifting as Dabi pushed out of his temporary cage. Slithering out, he relished his momentary freedom. While he was well aware that he couldn't escape in this form, that doesn't mean he wasn't going to cause as much mischief as he possibly could in the process.

While you were distracted, he explored the apartment. He had to admit, the change in perspective from when he was human was disorienting. As a human, he stood at five foot nine, but as a snake, he was mere inches off the ground. Because he was a python, he found that climbing wasn't too difficult, so he quickly made his way up a nearby chair to settle on the counter and get a better vantage point. Surveying his surroundings, he noticed with gathering annoyance that his new home belonged to a hero fan. You had various merch such as an allmight mug and a red hawks wing patterned blanket. Still, at least he hadn't seen anything flame patterned. You at least didn't have the worst taste in that regard.

As he looked around, you finished setting up his tank. Looking back towards where you left him, you stiffened, panic filling your veins. The container was clear, and you could clearly see it was missing a snake. Slowly, you rose to your feet, trying to quell the panic invading your mind.

"Dabi? Where'd you go?" trapping your lip between your teeth,  you started scanning the floor.

Dabi watched with amusement as you searched frantically for him. He could tell it was going to be fun to tease you. Had he been in human form, he would have called you out for your pointless panic.

'I'm right here, stupid girl,' he hissed, knowing you wouldn't be able to understand him, but wanting to express the sentiment regardless. Slithering to the edge of the counter, he perched there ` and hissed softly to get your attention.

Hearing the strange noise, you were shocked to see the reptile on your counter. The tank he had been in didn't do him justice. He was easily five feet long now that you could see him stretched out. While this situation was someone's worst nightmare, you couldn't help but catch your breath. You had never considered snakes to be all that pretty, but Dabi managed to be. The black of his scales was onyx against your counter The white scales of his underbelly just barely showed on his sides, a striking contrast. The most obvious separation of color was at his jaw, the underside bright white as if someone had pieced two colors together there.

You broke out of your thoughts to find the snake coiled around a pillar by your counter, now exactly eye level with you.

"Sorry, you got bored waiting for me. But your new tank is finished. Now you have a nice comfy place to sleep."

He gave you an unimpressed look. He would have rolled his eyes if he could. He was expecting more of a freak out instead of the weird half-smile you gave him while standing completely still for like 15 seconds. Weirdo. He pulled his focus back to the present as he felt your hand close gently around his middle. Jerking back, he bit you. The yelp that sounded made him cringe internally, but he steamrolled over the small part of him that felt remorse. He was determined to get rid of any trace of that if he wanted to move forward as a villain. Still, he didn't take pride in the blood that was welling up on your hand, that was more toga's thing.

You clutched your hand to your chest, looking back at him with wide eyes.  Backing up until you were out of his reach should he decide to go for a longer bite, you looked down at the red beading up from the tiny pinpricks on your hand. It didn't hurt that much and had mostly just surprised you. However, you were understandably a bit freaked out. You checked over your injury before pouting at Dabi, regaining some of your confidence now that the adrenaline was fading.

"Well, that wasn't very nice, Mr. grumpy scales. I just wanted to get you to your tank." skirting around him, you made your way into the small kitchen area. Keeping your gaze trained on Dabi, you went about washing your hands to try and disinfect the bite. It wasn't deep, but you weren't about to risk getting sick. Before long, you had the small wound clean and bandaged. However, this left you with the task at hand that had gotten you bit in the first place, getting Dabi to his tank.

"Now how are we gonna do this, my little spit-fire? I can't exactly leave you to roam the house, but I don't want a matching snake bite piercing for my other hand."

'whatever woman, it's your problem, not mine' Dabi watched you, tongue flicking lazily as he waited for you to decide your next move. He had to admit, you were more fun to mess with than the Midoriya lady. He always got chewed out by the various occupants of the store whenever he tried to cause trouble for her. Here, it was just you and him and he could be as much of a jerk as he wanted. It's not like he expected you to interact with him much anyway, so why waste time playing the well-behaved pet?

While he amused himself with his thoughts, you remembered the stick Inko had used to transfer him back at the store and recreated it with your broom handle. Dabi was not expecting the sudden change of perspective when you scooped him up, so he didn't think about resisting. Gently placing him in the bottom of the tank, you slid the handle out and carefully latched the tank lid.

"There we go Dabi. Sleep well. Tomorrow should be less stressful and you can take some time to settle in." You offered him a smile, a brief light in the dark living room before you retreated to your room. Dabi watched you go in disgruntled annoyance before settling down, knowing it was pointless to stay up and agonize about the strange day. Curling around himself until he was arranged in a neat little coil, he drifted to sleep.

~~~~~ "Dabi!!!! How did you get up there?" You stared wide-eyed, mouth agape at your snake. You had been living with him for just over two weeks now, but he still managed to surprise you. Right now, he was lazily draped over the top of a bookshelf in your living room. If he could emote, you would have easily seen a cheeky grin adorning his smug face.

"How, I... You're impossible!" You threw up your hands, not having the mental stamina to deal with his shenanigans for the day.  "Fine, if you want to be tall, far be it from me to stop you."

You gave him a triumphant look before turning your back to him.

Unbeknownst to you, he was waiting for an opportunity and you had just given him the perfect one. He carefully stretched out over the edge of the bookshelf and let himself fall around your shoulders, his tail wrapping around your bicep to steady him. Obviously, you screamed and tried to dislodge him in a panic. The shrill sound hurt his ears, but the surprise he saw was worth it. If you could have seen your face, your eyes had been wide and crazy and he hissed out a laugh as you finally settled down.

Your heart was still beating in your throat but you quickly realized that it was just Dabi coiled around you. His cold scales against the bare skin of your neck and the foreign weight had been terrifying in the moment. You moved slowly, considering his sharp teeth that he had no qualms about using. He was a strange animal. He hated being handled but would take every opportunity to antagonize you. Still... he had grown on you. However, that was horrifying, and had he not been more secure, you would have flung him away.

You instead glared at the reptile, breath still heaving as you recovered.

"That was rude Dabi!" A pout formed on your lips, "You know, you could have been hurt. That was reckless. Also, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

You watched him warily. You didn't think he would bite you again, but he was unpredictable so you moved carefully.  You slowly reached out with the arm opposite the one he was wrapped around and carefully ran a finger over the scales on his back, enjoying the smooth and cool feeling of his scales under your fingers.

The feeling was alien to Dabi, but not uncomfortable. While he didn't like people touching him, your touch was featherlight and gentle. There was no promise of pain behind it, no expectation, just softness, and curiosity. He froze at the contact, unsure how to respond to the touch. In the past, he was faced with extremes. Always too hot, too rough, too painful, too much, and too expectant.

But your touch was gentle. You were soft, warm rather than scalding, gentle and careful, and...caring. Despite his behavior and lashing out, you stayed patient with him. You confused and irritated him to no end. Still, he supposed he could endure your touch for a little while longer. 'it's just because I'm a snake now. I'm drawn to her warmth' he muttered to himself, a soft hiss all that you heard.

Without knowing his true thoughts, you took his response as displeasure and pulled away quickly.

"Sorry spitfire, I didn't mean to bother you. I'll keep my hands to myself then," You started towards his cage, "let's get you put away, and then I'll leave you be."

Without even thinking about it, he tightened his hold on your arm slightly. You shot him a surprised look before deciding it was your imagination and carefully untangling him from your arm and placing him in his tank. You latched it and gave him a small smile and wave before walking away, going to the couch to give him space.

Meanwhile, Dabi was having a mental battle with himself. He knew that it had felt nice to be near you, but he was confused as to the why. He decided that he froze because he was used to people being too scared of him to caress him so casually. Still, a part of him, a part he tried to bury was convinced that he was avoiding the real reason. Looking back at you, he felt warm and confused. The warmth wasn't painful like the blue of his quirk, but rather, soothing. It calmed him yet made him feel funny all the same. Perhaps this is what true annoyance felt like, anger at being unable to faze you. He narrowed his gaze as much as this form would allow and glared back at you. He fell back on one of the few emotions he allowed himself and stewed in a fit of quiet anger.

Your skin prickled lightly as you felt his unblinking gaze on you. Turning your head from the book in your hands, you offered him a small smile, eyes soft. It was a direct opposite to his hard eyes and he was a bit taken aback but didn't let it show. The moment lasted only a few moments before a twinkle of mischievousness lit your eyes. Leaning forward slightly, you brought your fingers to your lips and blew the grumpy animal a kiss, bursting into giggles when he jerked back, affronted by your action.

You rolled back on the couch, heaving with laughter at the simple but funny reaction. Your eyes scrunched with mirth as an ungraceful snort left your mouth before you were able to recover, shoulders still shaking as you righted yourself. Looking back at the tank, your expression was bright with humor, cheeks red from the laughter.

"Oh come on, it was a kiss Dabi, it wouldn't have hurt you. " You made your way in front of him and crouched to his level. "Alright, I'm sorry for scaring you, but hey, payback's a *****. "

A broad smirk formed as you watched him flick his tongue in annoyance. "If that startled you so much, maybe I'll just have to spend more time with you so you're used to my antics."

He watched incredulously as you dragged a chair to the table his tank rested on and settled on it, watching him with elbows on your knees and chin resting in your palms.

"There. Now we can get to know each other. I'm afraid we got off on the wrong foot. " You gave a little bow from the chair before straightening. "I, am (y/n). I moved here from America, and my quirk is the ability to resist other quirks."

He slid to the front of the tank, interested in any information he could glean from this strange encounter. You were the only one he could interact with, so he might as well know a bit about you to use against you later if he ever turned human again.  

'Now what, huh? You can't understand what I'm saying so you look pretty stupid right now. ' he spoke, but only hisses reached your ears. You pretended to listen intently regardless.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Dabi. What's that? You're from here in Japan? Well, I must say, my accent is atrocious compared to you." You laughed, winking conspiratorily. "And what's your quirk? Spitfire? Do tell what that's like."

'You are by far the strangest person I have ever met and if we met when I was human, I'd squish you like a bug. And what's with the nickname being my quirk? animals don't have quirks, idiot.'

Not for the first time, Dabi wished he had arms again. He had to settle for flicking his tail with annoyance rather than punching the glass as he would have preferred. Still, you kept talking, oblivious to his annoyance.

'Spitfire huh? What name fits you then? I could just call you bug. You're annoying like one. Firefly then. You're obnoxiously sunny and useless.'

He smirked to himself, proud of his choice, and let you ramble on. The conversation was all about you and your job and favorite heroes. Everything and more than he wanted to know was shared with him. Still, it was better entertainment than staring at the tank in silence so he was grateful for it in a small measure. He didn't realize how intently he had been listening until you stopped. He straightened as he heard your voice waver for the first time in the half-hour you had been talking to him. Turning his reptilian eyes to you, you had changed demeanor completely. You had gotten to the family section of your story. Inhaling and pushing forward, you forced a fake smile that made his heart twist in something he told himself was disgust rather than sympathy.

"I have family, I suppose. I mean, they're still alive that is. But... Since I decided to move, they don't want anything to do with me," you cleared your throat, having not really taken time to talk aloud about it and process it fully and getting more choked up than you thought you would. "They think I'm an idiot for leaving. Considering my quirk, they thought I might as well not have one. They didn't think it was safe for me here and that it was a betrayal to leave them for my own dreams rather than their expectations."

You weren't looking at the tank anymore, instead focusing on the pale carpet at your feet, trying to distract from the feeling of hurt that had filled you so suddenly.

"They uh, they wanted me to be a hero. " A humorless smile flitted across your face briefly. "Their quirks were quirk paralysis and forcefield. They thought I would get some ability that could be used to save people. But no... I can only save myself. And that's only if they attack me with a quirk. I can still get hurt from falls, weapons, all that fun stuff. I disappointed them. Because I was born wrong, I took away their dreams of being a good child." You swallowed thickly, blinking hard to suppress the stinging in your eyes as angry and hurt tears filled them.

Dabi watched, transfixed by this girl who was so similar yet so different. Yet with all you had gone through, you hadn't turned bitter You still liked heroes despite your inability to join them. You were not what he expected and he suddenly didn't want you to stop talking. He needed to know more. Unfortunately for him, you were emotionally drained and had gone quiet.

Standing, you wiped your eyes with the heels of your palms before offering him a watery smile, trying to mask any hint of the sadness that had just consumed you.

"Kind of went off the deep end there! sorry about that. it's getting late, so I'll let you sleep. "

Before he could make any move or sound to protest, you had vanished into your room, the light switched off and plunging the room into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~

Ever since that day when you talked to Dabi, he had been friendlier to you. It was subtle at first, and you had to pay close attention to notice any difference. Dabi was less hesitant to spend time with you and as time went on, he became comfortable with you handling him. Now, months after taking him into your care, he was always with you around the house. He was still a jerk and nipped you on occasion, but he never broke skin anymore.

He had taken to riding around on your shoulders, wrapped loosely there with his head resting on your collar bone. You would continue about your day with him resting there, occasionally you would reach up and stroke him. You talked with him often, having one-sided conversations as you cooked, whispering to him conspiratorily as you commented on the various actors on tv. Once you even took him to the store with you without realizing it. It wasn't until the cashier nearly screamed that you realized you had forgotten to put him back in his tank. You could have sworn he was laughing at you on the way home, hiss coming out in disjointed little huffs.

Dabi was, of course, amused by your mistake. He wrapped himself around your neck, applying light pressure as if to remind you that he was in fact still there as you hurried home. 'I was wondering how long it would take for you to realize. I didn't think you would actually make it to the store, firefly. How unobservant can you be, I'm a five-foot snake.' He tickled the base of your throat with his tongue, grinning to himself as you shuddered.

"Hey! Stop that, you wouldn't want me to drop you. I promise the pavement is not as forgiving as the carpet in my apartment." You gently pushed his head away, tucking him into the hood on your jacket.

Your shoe caught on a rock as you passed an alleyway, briefly causing you to stumble. You nearly sent Dabi flying from his place on your shoulder.

"Hah! See? Careful." laughing, you settled him back in place, patting him goodnaturedly

'real graceful there, firefly. Trying to seduce the pavement?  Because you almost kissed it. I could do better and I don't even have legs.' As much as he teased, he couldn't help but be endeared to your clumsiness.

"careful there, girlie. That could have been a bad fall. Wouldn't want to get that pretty face marked up."

You whipped your head around and looked owlishly at the man who had spoken. He was in the alleyway beside you, leaning against the brick with a cigarette. He watched you lazily, eyes trailing over you with something akin to appraisal.

Stepping back, you gave a tight nod and a forced chuckle.

"Yeah, really lucky there. um," Shifting uncomfortably, your eyes darted towards home before hurriedly returning to the mystery man, not sure you wanted to let him out of your sight, "I'll just be going now, can't keep my boyfriend waiting." You ducked your head and swiftly kept walking, the feeling of his eyes following you leaving a gross slimy feeling crawling up your spine.

Once you were out of range and you couldn't feel his gaze again, you took off for home. Your hands went to your throat, holding Dabi steady as you sprinted. When you arrived at the apartment, your breathing was heavy and punctuated by the occasional gasp. Dabi could feel your pulse fluttering against his side frantically. Once you were inside, you dropped your bags and whipped the door shut. Fumbling with the locks, you didn't relax until all of them were secured tightly. You rested your forehead against the wood, heaving quietly as you tried to relax and give the adrenaline a chance to wear off.  You wouldn't have reacted like this normally, but something about that man had activated your fight or flight response.

Dabi watched you carefully, not admitting that he was concerned by that display. Stretching out to get a better look at you, he was relieved when your eyes found his form and focused on him rather than the blank distance you had been occupied with before.

"Sorry about that Spitfire, I bet that was a wild ride." Standing, you slid off your jacket and carefully unwound him from your neck, "And hopefully, you will never have to experience that ever again."

Dabi curled around your arm, his weight a comfort that helped ground you as you calmed. Setting him down on the counter, you turned your attention to the bags you had abandoned by the door.

"What do you think that was about?" You wrinkled your nose in distaste, as you remembered the man. You didn't like how he looked at you, " I think I lost him, so we should be alright."

You focused on putting the groceries away and started rambling about the movie you were looking forward to that was in production.

"Oh you would love it, it has my favorite actress in it and I always liked the story. I can't wait to see what direction they take with it."

You looked back at the snake as if to ask his opinion before nodding sagely.

"Ah yes, I agree, they might absolutely ruin the storyline by adding an unnecessary romantic subplot."

Dabi mentally rolled his eyes at your antics. he may act like it didn't affect him, but he quite enjoyed it when you talked to him. You treated him like a trusted friend. He adored when you smiled at him. Throughout his life, he had never had anyone smile at him as you did. You looked at him like he was the most important thing in your life and if he were human, he probably wouldn't be able to conceal the awed expression that would follow just one of your smiles.

He listened intently as you worked, mind wandering as he thought of what would change if he were human. He'd get to see your cute annoyed pout more often, that'd be for sure. He would tease you mercilessly, but he knew you would respond in kind, probably teasing him back and poking fun right back.

Still, it was better this way, at least in his mind. This way, he could actually be around you without scaring you off. His burns would likely intimidate you if his reputation as a villain didn't. No, he was better off as a snake. Maybe it was selfish to pine after you this way, but he wouldn't have to face your true reaction to him this way. The possibility of actually being able to be with you as a human and you rejecting him was not something he would be willing to face. He supposed being a snake had that small advantage. You would never know what an awful person he was and leave him, to never grace him with that annoyed look or that silly nickname. Besides, he couldn't care about you, not really. He told himself that he didn't have emotions anymore. Those feelings died the same night Touya did.

He was pulled from his thoughts when you picked him off the counter, carefully coiling him around your arm. You placed a quick kiss on the top of his head before you lowered him into his tank. Laughing, you tried to slide him off your arm, amused by his reluctance to let go.

"Dabi, let me go! I gotta go to bed!"

You succeeded in removing him from your hand before bidding him goodnight, not bothering to close the tank as he always managed to escape anyway. He watched you go, only averting his eyes when you passed from his view. Settling down to rest, he briefly let himself think of what happened next. Maybe Dabi died too. When he became a snake, he couldn't return to being human, he couldn't return to being Dabi. Maybe this version of him, this one could be allowed to love. From afar of course. He sighed and focused on your door, letting himself drift as he surrendered to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

Work had been difficult today. You were relieved to put up your apron as your shift ended. the day actually reminded you of the day you had stumbled across the pet store. That day, while awful in the beginning, became one of the best days of your life. If it hadn't been for the difficulties of the day and the need to stay late, you wouldn't have had to brave the store and find that amazing pet store. You smiled to yourself as you reminisced on that day and finding Dabi. The thought of getting back to your apartment lifted your spirits and you were quick to clock out and leave work. There was a spring in your step as you followed the familiar route home, mind full with a plan forming of how you were going to spend your evening with your best friend and pet.

Unfortunately, your happy mood was exactly what got you in trouble. You hadn't been paying as much attention as you should have been, mind focused too much on what came next than on your surroundings. Before you knew it, a hand reached out from the alley you had rightly fled the day before. The man from before tugged you harshly into his chest, hand clasped tightly to your mouth while the other held a knife to your throat.

"We meet again, girlie. Now just be real quiet for me and you'll be alright. "

Your blood ran cold as you listened to his commands, following him into the shadows as he led you further away from the safe and welcoming light of the street. It disappeared along with your hope as he pulled you harshly along. He led you through a maze of alleyways and shortcuts for what felt like forever. A dilapidated warehouse rose in front of you and he harshly tugged you inside the dingy building. You wanted to fight, but he wasn't using a quirk. You could survive a knife to the throat if it was a quirk controlling it, but a plain mugging? You were still vulnerable. You felt your heart sink when he removed his hand. He didn't trust you, so that meant he was confident any sound you made would not reach any ears that mattered.

"What do you want from me? I'm no one special, I'm not useful to you, why would you take me?" You searched his face frantically, looking for some explanation.

He laughed and pushed you into a chair, attaching your wrists behind it with a rope. The practiced movement made you grit your teeth as you realized that the ease of it meant you weren't the first he'd done this to. Biting down fear, you glared at him.

"Let me go! What are you planning with me?" You spit your words, the fear fading to anger at the horrible man. You pulled against the rope as he stepped away but it held tight.

"You, my dear, are going to be a beautiful addition to my collection," you craned your neck as he circled you, that same wrongness from that first day insisting that you keep him in your vision.

"you see, my quirk allows me to identify the quirks of others. The more powerful it is, the more vague the details I get, but yours is fascinating."

Leaning forward, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, eyes dancing with amusement at the anger and uncertainty that shone in your expression.

" I can't see your quirk. But... You're not quirkless. Tell me," he squeezed your cheeks, amused expression turning dark, "What are you hiding from me, girlie? I have quite a few buyers who would be interested in a pretty young thing like you, but I need to see if you're worth my time."

Narrowing his eyes, he let your chin go and stepped back.

"Tell me your quirk or I'll have to mark up that pretty frame. I don't like to resort to torture, but I assure you, I am well-practiced in it. "

You clenched your jaw and lifted your chin, eyes sparking in defiance.

"You'll be caught. The heroes will find us. I'm sure of it. You will be found." Your gaze faltered slightly as he erupted into laughter at your expense.

"Silly girlie, the heroes won't find you here. And if they do, I'll be long gone by then. No one knows to look for you, you're all alone, and if you don't cooperate, you'll scream and no one but me will get to hear the pretty sound." After checking your bindings one last time, he smirked at you and unceremoniously tied a gag in your mouth. "How about I let you think about what happens next, see if some time alone will make you more responsive." And just like that, he walked away, leaving you in the center of the cold warehouse, tied to a chair.

Once he was out of sight, you frantically fought to free yourself, crying out as you rubbed your wrists raw in an effort to slip them free of the rope. Unfortunately, they held true and tight.  You bowed your head after what felt like hours of struggling and let yourself rest, building up strength for what could be a fruitless fight.

~~~~~~~~

Dabi waited less than patiently for you to come home from work. You were late and he was not pleased in the slightest. He slid around the bottom of his tank, glancing back at the door every few seconds. He worked his jaw irritably, frustration growing with each moment that passed. You were supposed to be here and he didn't like the breach in routine.

The room grew dark as the sun traveled across the sky, vanishing behind the horizon along with Dabi's anger. The frustration that had been building in the pit of his stomach had soured. Now worry was his prevalent feeling. You had never stayed out this late before. He slipped out of his cage You never latched it anymore because he was always escaping anyway. slipping onto the floor, he made his way through the house, wondering if he had somehow missed you coming home in the first place. Alas, there was no sign of you and as he tasted the air, he could find no trace of you.

Worry ate at him as the hour grew later and later. Thoughts of possible outcomes flooded his mind with unpleasantness. His frantic thoughts slowed when the sun peeked into the living room. Any doubt that something was wrong was gone. he growled and threw his small body at the door, furious that he could do nothing. 'She's in trouble and I'm useless! I can't just sit around and do nothing! The woman I love is in danger somewhere and I'm a ******* snake!'

The anger in him boiled in his veins and he felt odd. With a loud pop, his gaze was now level with the doorknob rather than the bottom of the door. He blinked slowly as he took stock of what just happened. He was human again. He grimly took stock of himself, making sure all features were accounted for before realizing the implications of being human again. He had been thinking about you when he transformed, how much he needed to be human again to help you. He waved away the thought with irritation. He wasn't ready to believe you had broken the quirk's effect on him like some ******** fairy tale curse. Still, thinking on this brought him back to the matter at hand.

He searched your apartment for clothes before bolting out the door. He searched all the places you talked about, looking for clues to your whereabouts.

His search had lasted all morning and he was getting desperate as the evening approached with no real solution. He ducked into an alleyway before pausing. He recognized this place... This is where you had tripped just the day before last. He had been focused on you then, but he remembered that a man had talked to you here. Dabi thought of how terrified you had been and hoped you weren't scared now, where ever you were. About to give up on this section of the city, he nearly tripped outside the alleyway. He kicked the object in anger and it ricocheted off the brick and pelted him in the leg. He felt his mouth grow dry in horror when he noticed exactly what the object was. It was your nametag from work.

Picking it up, his fears were confirmed as he looked it over. You had been taken by the man from the alleyway. A deep growl of anger escaped him and he had to tuck the nametag into his pocket for fear of incinerating it in his anger. He turned quickly and strode back into the street. Hopefully, Giran was available because he had a favor to cash in. He would locate the man who took his little firefly, and if they had harmed you... well, only ash would remain when he was done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You glared at your captor through tired eyes, eyes stinging from the punch you had received after insulting him.

"Now really, all I want is a measly bit of information. Your quirk, what is it."

You closed your eyes and relaxed your expression before giving him a weary look. Bowing your head, you mumbled under your breath.

Taishi, as he had introduced himself, stepped forward to hear better. "What was that? Speak up."

You repeated your words, quiet still. It was spoken as if you lacked the strength to speak louder. Growling in annoyance, he leaned closer to hear.

Inhaling deeply, you waited until he was close, " I said... **** YOU!" You screamed at him, kicking him between the legs with all the force you could muster. As he fell to the ground, your chair tipped over from the force of the kick and your vision swam as your head bounced on the floor.

Taishi rose, venom in his gaze as he kicked you sharply in the stomach, glowering in rage as you yelped.  

"You could have done this the easy way, but no! You just had to be a *****!" He readied a blade as he stood over your prone body.

You slammed your eyes shut in preparation for the pain, but it never came. There was the sound of fire coming to life, and an uncomfortable stream of hot air brushed over you accompanied by a horrid stench and the screams of your captor.

Daring to open your eyes, you were met with a strange sight. A man you had never seen before stood above your captor, his hands aglow with a blue flame. Covered in burns and staples, there was no question in your mind who it must be, the villain Dabi.

Once he was certain Taishi was not going to get up again, he turned to you. His turquoise eyes locked onto yours and you could see fury burning in them. But as he looked you over, they softened a bit, and concern mixed with the anger. As he approached, you tried to scoot backward away from him, a whimper escaping unbidden.

Dabi froze at your obvious fear. He regarded you for a moment as he tried to figure out what to do. He was furious, but he knew you needed him calm instead if you were to trust him. Closing his eyes, he extinguished his hands and held them up in a placating gesture.

"Shh... It's okay firefly, I'm not going to hurt you." He hated that you looked at him with such fear. You had blood running down your face, lip obviously split from a punch, and various bruises and cuts on your arms added to your pitiful state. Still, you were strong, and he knew that if he didn't diffuse the situation, you would try to fight.

"Are you alright, firefly? Anything broken?" He scanned you for pressing injuries relieved to find nothing too major. He knelt on the floor beside you as you strained to look back at him, still freaked out and confused.

"What are you doing? Why are you here? What do you want from me?" your questions were rushed as you tried to make sense of what was happening. You hissed in pain and closed your eyes tightly as he freed your wrists, fresh blood welling from the raw skin as the rope agitated it one last time. You were weaker than you wanted to admit, but it didn't seem like the villain was going to do anything.

Dabi tossed the chair away and gently pulled you onto your back, cradling your upper body in his lap as blue eyes scanned over your face. His shoulders sagged in relief and he pulled you close.

" Don't you ever scare me like that again, idiot!" He scooped you up and walked out of the warehouse with purpose before shouting for someone named Kurogiri.

You clutched him in panic as a dark void opened in front of you and you both vanished inside you screaming as you tucked your face into his shoulder.

Dabi rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the matching portal in your apartment.

"Stop screaming, you'll get a noise complaint." He carried you into your room and laid you on the bed before disappearing to get a first aid kit while you glanced around in shocked bewilderment.

"But, how? Home, and the dark, and you're a villain. " This day had sucked, and you were fairly certain you were having a mental breakdown. "What is going on?" You wailed, dropping your head into your hands as your head pounded.

"I brought you home, firefly. Also, I'm you're pet snake. Surprise. Now sit still so I can patch you up." He plopped down on the bed beside you and immediately began tending to your wounds while all you could do was stare in disbelief.

"You're insane. Or I'm dead. I suppose those are both viable options." Still, something about his words rang true.

"If you're actually Dabi, my snake, what's something only he would know?"

Dabi rolled his eyes and fixed you with a scowl but stayed quiet in thought as he contemplated an answer. You searched his gaze, almost challenging him to say something to prove he wasn't crazy.

You jumped when he grabbed your hand. His thumb traced a familiar pattern on the inside of your palm that he identified without even looking at it.

"Right there, Is where I, your 'Spitfire' as you called me... bit you during the first week I was here." He watched your eyes widen and continued when you stayed silent. "You also told me your whole life story, but I figure you've been through enough today without me recounting all the parental disappointment you've told me about. Now, are you going to let me fix you up or not?" He quirked an eyebrow in a movement that you recognized from his time as your pet. He had tilted his head a little bit, his tell when he was annoyed. Or at least, it was what you had told yourself when you still thought he was just an animal.

You swallowed and reached out, hand cupping his cheek gently, mindful of the staples. You watched his eyes cycle through various stages of panic, as well as affection and fear as he kept a calm and cocky facade to all who didn't know him as well as you did.

"You're really him. You're my spitfire?" He nodded, watching you uncomfortably as you searched his face. He waited for your verdict, where you rejected him outright and drew away. Instead, you leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before pulling back shyly.

"You saved my life. Thank you, Dabi. I know you're a villain, but.... You were my hero today."

He debated keeping up his facade before saying to heck with it. He pulled you into a fierce kiss, all his worry and relief and love pouring over you as he held you tight. You relaxed into the embrace, kissing back as you let him tell you how he really felt. Pulling away when you needed air, a breathy giggle escaped when you bumped noses.

His smile was one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen and you were looking forward to learning what had happened to put such a mysterious and amazing man in your life.

He shushed you as you moved to ask, shaking his head tiredly. "After, my firefly. Let's get your injuries tended to first, then I'll tell you everything."

Taglist:

@witch-o-memes

@nightlygiggless

@ravensfeatheruniverse

[thegreatestofheck]

Not So Unrequited ⚜ JJ Maybank ⚜

request - (from Anon)  JJ and the reader arguing about anything and he’s like I Love you and she’s begging him not to say it because she doesn’t think she can be loved. warnings - swearing (lots and lots your welcome), steaminess,  synopsis - in the middle of an argument with your best friend, he says something to you that you had never wanted to hear. 

(thank you for this, anon, I love it! I hope this is what you wanted, I made it a lil steamy because- well, I have no excuse. Threw a little bit of body positivity in there because everyone is beautiful, and you all deserve to know that.)

“God, you’re such an idiot,” Kie sighed, pressing an ice pack against JJ’s cheek. “She’s gonna be pissed.” 

JJ rolled his eyes, letting Kie baby him because it made the both of them feel a little bit better. He opened his mouth to say something when the door to the Chateau opened. 

He had expected it to fly open with a flurry followed by the hurricane that was y/n. But when it creaked slowly, barely opening enough for you to slide inside, both Kie and JJ froze. JJ flicked his gaze away from Kie and met yours. 

A chill ran down his spine at the look in your eye. Silent as you were, everything that you weren’t saying was storming behind your eyes. Your dead calm was more terrifying than your raging storm. 

You walked into the dark Chateau and leaned yourself up against the wall, crossing your arms. Tension shrouded the room. Kie felt like she had stepped in the middle of a show down, her movements on JJ’s bruised knuckles short and awkward. JJ knew he was about to get his ass handed to him in a verbal beat down and he wasn’t really in the mood for it right now. 

And you, you were pissed off. Beyond pissed off. 

Kie stood slowly, setting her cleaning supplies off to the side. She glanced quickly over at you, but your gaze was fixed solely on the blond boy currently nursing a bruised cheekbone. With a sigh, Kie put a hand on JJ’s shoulder. 

“Good luck,” she whispered before making a quick break for the door. JJ grunted in response.

The tension in the room increased ten times when Kie left. JJ refused to meet your gaze again, still holding the ice pack to his face. 

“Why are the lights off?” you asked, breaking through the silence. 

“Hurts my head,” JJ mumbled. You resisted the urge to sigh dramatically. 

“Cause you have a concussion. That’s what you get for getting in a 3-on-1 fight.” 

JJ tightened his jaw and slouched farther in his seat, dropping his hands into his lap. You finally let out that sigh you had been fighting back. Pushing yourself off of the wall, you crossed the room and lowered yourself to the floor in front of JJ’s feet. He watched you carefully with wide, curious eyes, just waiting for you to explode.

But you didn’t.

You lifted your hand slowly and took the ice pack from his hand and gently pressed it back against his swollen face. His breath hitched in his throat from the sudden cold. At least, that’s what he told himself. 

Being so close to you made him freeze, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. It made him want to throw up. He wondered why people liked falling in love if this was how it felt. Or maybe this was only what an unrequited love felt like. 

“You are a fucking idiot for taking those guys on like that,” you said, your voice quiet but shaking. 

“They were dicks,” JJ replied. He looked away from you as you cradled the ice pack in your hand. 

“You can’t fight every dick in the world, Jay.” 

“But I can fight every dick who treats you like shit.” 

You’re calmness started to quake, threatening to become something far more wild. 

“I don’t need you to defend me,” you told him, setting your jaw to keep your anger at bay. He had been trying to help, after all. JJ scoffed and slouched even farther. You pulled the ice pack away and scowled. “What, you think I need you to fight my own battles?” 

“You can but you don’t,” JJ snapped. “You let them harass you and call you names. You let them get away with it.” 

“I don’t let anyone do anything. I just don’t justify their taunting with a response. They’re not worth my time.” Your eyes narrowed at JJ. It had always been this way. Someone said anything bad about you and he would throw himself into a fight instantly, even if you were unphased. You just wondered why in the hell he thought that meant he should take it into his own hands. “If they’re not worth my time they’re sure as hell not worth you getting all bloodied up for.” 

“God, you do this every time.” JJ pushed himself up out of the chair and stepped past you. You glowered at him as he paced toward the other side of the room. Rising from you ground, you couldn’t bite back your irritated response. 

“Every time you do something stupid? Yeah, I’m sorry for caring about your sorry ass. Newsflash, jerk face, but I don’t like seeing you get beat up. It’s not fun, for any of us.” 

JJ ran his hands through his hair, but he didn’t say anything, which only fueled your fire even more. You crossed your arms and your glower turned into a full glare. 

“Why do you insist on fighting every goddamn prick who has to run their mouth?” You continued. “What’s so important that you have to throw yourself into every fight? Why can’t you just leave it be?” 

He still didn’t respond, but he turned his back on you as his face went red. 

“Huh? Are you listening to me? Jay, why-”

“Because I love you, goddammit!” JJ whirled around to face you, his eyes wide, his hair a mess, his breathing ragged. You stiffened, the anger in your chest vanishing like a painful mist. 

“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the shock evident in your face. JJ’s face fell in desperation, dropping his hands back to his side. 

“I love you.” He said it again, much more desperate, but with no less emotion. JJ almost smiled. He took one short step toward you and you took one back, your eyes dropping to the ground. JJ’s smile fell. 

“Well, stop it,” was all you could find to say, your voice still quiet. 

“What?” You hated to hear the heartbreak in his voice, but it was better that you break his heart now than ten years down the road. 

“Just, stop!” Your hands trembled at your sides. 

“Stop what? Stop loving you? I tried that already and it didn’t work.” You crossed your arms over your stomach and turned your face away from him. “Say something, please. Anything.” 

“I don’t even know what love is, JJ. How could you possibly know?” You asked, still not looking at him. He shrugged his shoulders, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“All I know is that every time I’m around you, I want to be holding you and my stomach gets all tied up in knots. That I miss you whenever you’re no around. That whenever I see you with another guy, I want to tear his fucking throat out. That it fucking breaks my heart when you cry. That I would burn down the entire world before I let anyone hurt you.” 

You finally looked up, your heart beating wildly in your chest. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, not now, not ever. You were supposed to just be friends. It was better that way. 

“What happens when those feelings go away, huh?” You asked, nose burning and eyes brimming with tears. “I say I love you back and we start dating and we get married and have kids and then what happens when you don’t have those feelings anymore and you wake up some day and you don’t love me anymore, what fucking then, JJ?” 

You sounded angrier than you felt. You felt terrified, like an animal trapped in a cage, the walls closing in tighter and tighter around you, suffocating you. 

“We’re not your parents, y/n.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they said the same exact thing when they were our age.” Bitterness laced your every word. Sure, maybe you had been talking about your own parents, but he didn’t have to actually mention them. It just made the sting all the more real. 

Your dad had up and left when you were 12, leaving you with a mother whose heart was broken beyond repair and a 4 year old sister to take care of. You hadn’t believed in love from that day on. And JJ knew this, so why was he throwing it on you now? Why was he putting you through this when he knew damn well what it meant to you? 

“You can’t,” you said, giving your head a shake and praying that the tears wouldn’t fall. “You can’t. Not me.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m fucked up, JJ.”

“Everybody’s fucked up.” 

“I’m especially fucked up.” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” There was real anger in his voice, but not anger directed at you. He was angry that the world was so messed up that it had convinced you that you didn’t deserve to be loved. 

And it shook you to the core. 

“I’ve kept my damn mouth shut about this for so long, y/n.” His voice broke painfully. He looked exhausted. You wanted to cross the room and pull him into your arms and wipe the tears from his eyes because if he wasn’t saying the words he was saying now, that’s what you would have done. “Didn’t even tell the Pogues. I kept it to myself because I knew what it meant to you but you’ve gotta know because I can’t do this anymore.” 

“What about all those....all those girls from the parties?” You crossed your arms as your mouth ran dry, grasping for straws. JJ scowled, looking more hurt than ever. 

“They were nothing.” 

“Those girls aren’t nothing, JJ. They’re people.” 

“I meant they were nothing to me. They were just...distractions.” 

“From me?” You said the words like a breath, your stomach twisting as you did so. Because the more JJ spoke about what he was feeling, the more you recognized them as a mirror of your own. 

“Yeah. From you.” You felt yourself fall still again, but it wasn’t that frozen stillness from fear. It was a calm that washed over you and you didn’t know why. “Because every time I saw you sneaking off with one of those guys I just-” 

JJ’s words fell off as you took one small step toward him. As soon as that first step was taken, you couldn’t stop yourself from crossing the room until you were standing right in front of him, chest to chest. 

He looked down at his, his lips parted. Your eyes flitted from his down toward his mouth before venturing back up to meet his stare once again. 

“Maybe....” You paused, glancing down again. “Maybe we aren’t our parents.” 

JJ’s eyes were fixated on your lips, a breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t going to make the first move, you knew that, yet you weren’t sure you had the strength to break what was left of your walls. You wanted him to do it for you, but he wouldn’t want to push you any farther than he already had. 

Your stomach was already tangled into knots even before you stood on your toes. JJ’s eyes were closed even before you pressed your lips to his. Those knots detangled into butterflies and exploded throughout your bones. 

The kiss was a ghost of a thing. At least, it was at first. Because once the dam was breached, the water all came rushing out with a startling force. 

Your hands left your sides and found their place tangled in his hair, pulling him down closer to you. He hesitated, his hands flexing at his sides as the desire raged within him. 

“Are you sure about this?” He whispered, his eyes opening just a tad. You gave yourself one chance to breathe and second guess yourself. “Because once I have you, there’s no chance in hell I’m letting you go.” 

You pulled one of your hands out of his hair and rested it against his cheek, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. You chewed on the inside of your cheek before giving a short nod of your head. 

“This is what I want,” you told him. “I just want you.” 

That was all the permission that JJ needed. All of his hesitation was gone, vanished into thin air. Tucking his hand behind your neck, he put his lips right back onto yours with a fire that was just waiting to burst forth. 

You thought you had been control when you broke the dam, but JJ took no time in proving you wrong. With one hand on the back of your neck and the other on your hip, he pushed you back toward the wall. 

What little breath remained in your lungs was sucked away as your back hit the wall. Months of tension and deep rooted desire hit a boiling point as your lips found a rhythm with his. Your fingers left his hair to tug him closer by the collar of his shirt. Any space between you was too much. You needed his skin against yours, you needed to take his heat for your own. You needed him and you were no longer afraid to admit it, at least to yourself. 

JJ pinned you to the wall, his hips pressed up against yours. His hand shifted from behind your neck to the front, hanging loosely around the base of your neck just to keep you steady. His other hand found it’s way under the loose fabric of your shirt, kneading at your skin with his palm.  

You let out your first ungodly sound of the night, muffled only by JJ’s lips. You felt him smile so you pulled back. 

“Careful,” you murmured, eyes still closed. But JJ’s grin persisted even as he pressed butterfly kisses against your cheek, trailing past your jaw and finding rest against your neck. 

“Shit,” you breathed as his tongue grazed across your skin, his teeth pulling gently here and there. He started to work his hand farther up your shirt and you had to pressed your hands against the wall to keep yourself from falling. 

“All those other boys didn’t make you feel like this, did they?” JJ whispered against your skin. His breath was warm and sent ripples down your spine. You popped one eye open to glower at him. 

“Fuck you,” you breathed as he smiled against you. His hand at the base of your throat tightened ever so slightly and your glower deepened. 

“Was that a no?” 

“I don’t play that way, Maybank,” you ground out through your teeth. 

“Then how do you play?” 

You pushed him away from you and for a moment a look of hurt crossed his face. But when you grabbed hold of the bottom of your shirt, never breaking eye contact as you pulled it off and discarded it on the floor, a grin replaced that fear. You reached out for him, pulling him back in. 

Both of his hands went for your shoulders before tracing the curve of your body all the way down to the waistband of your shorts. You nipped at his lower lip, tugging gently, you hands holding his head just where you wanted. 

“Damn, y/n.” There was that damn smirk still. You wondered what it would take to wipe it off his face. His hands worked at the zipper of your shorts, tugging on the hem before you even realized he had them unbuttoned. 

“You really don’t waste any time, do you?” You asked him. Instead of responding, he pressed a kiss against your neck. Part of you wished he would stay there again. But then he kissed your collarbone and then he was lowering him self slowly, pressing his lips to the skin beneath your breasts, then just below your bra. 

You were pretty sure no boy had ever done anything like this before. You weren’t ever one to take your time with them because, after all, they were just a poor replacement for who you really wanted. But the attention that JJ gave your body as he continued his trail of kisses down your stomach was enough to make your eyes roll toward the back of your head. 

He was on his knees in front of you, tantalizing, as he pulled your shorts down as slowly as he could. He kissed your thighs once they were exposed as he pulled the shorts the rest of the way down. You were going to simply step out of them when he put on hand on your calf and the other just under your knee. 

“What are you doing?” You asked with an almost nervous laugh. JJ looked up at you as he started to lift your leg. A smile pulled at his lips. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time to have you,” he mused. “And I’m not wasting a second of it. 

He rested your foot against his shoulder and gave the side of your knee the smallest, most butterfly inducing kiss. You heaved out a breath and leaned your head back against the wall as JJ continued to kiss your inner thigh. His hands kept you steady. You had never felt more grounded. Your toes curled, fingers tensing. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, as if it was just a spoken thought. You lifted your head and looked down at him. 

“What?” 

He looked back up at you a look somewhere between concern and amusement. 

“You’re beautiful.”

You moved your leg off of his shoulder and joined him on your knees. For a reason you didn’t know, your eyes swam with tears. His smile was gone but there was something far deeper in his eyes that a smile couldn’t properly communicate in that moment. 

You took his hands in yours and pressed his bruised knuckles to your lips. When you met his eyes again, you gave a small shake of your head, the tears threatening to overflow. 

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” you whispered, trying to offer some kind of explanation for your strange actions. JJ looked taken aback. 

“Bullshit.”

“No, JJ, I’m serious. You’re the first person-” Your voice broke. 

“Is that why you didn’t believe me when I told you I loved you?” Your head fell and the tears you had been feeling started to fall from your eyes. He hooked his finger underneath your chin and moved your face to look back at his. “Hey, you’re beautiful, alright? And I’ll say it a million times until you believe me.” 

You nodded, sniffling as you tried to hide your embarrassing tears from him. He leaned forward and kissed both of you cheeks. You let out a small laugh as he pulled away. 

“Sorry to ruin the mood,” you said, still holding one of his hands. That look returned to JJ’s eyes, the hungry one, as he looked down at the clothes you were left in, or lack thereof. 

“Nothing’s ruined,” he said. “I’m still getting you in that bed.” 

You wiped away what was left of your tears and felt a smile of your own pull at your lips. 

“What are you waiting for then?” 

                                                                ***

Pope grumbled angrily as he climbed into the van, Kie sliding into the front seat. 

“I don’t see why they had to kick us out,” he said, plopping down into one of the seats. 

“I don’t think we were really kicked out, per say,” said John B up front with a slight smirk. “You were the last one in there, Kie, what happened exactly? One minute they’re screaming at each other and the next....” 

Kie shrugged, keeping her eyes fixed on the road as she started the car. 

“Guess they just reached their breaking point.” 

“I think that bed is going to reach it’s breaking point,” Pope huffed. “I mean, couldn’t they wait until they were alone to start going at each other?” 

Kie rolled her eyes and John B just laughed. 

“Give it until the morning. I’m sure they’ll pretend like it never happened,” John B said with a sigh. 

“Are you kidding?” Kie looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “Those two have been waiting to tear each other’s clothes off for months.”

“Really?” Pope and John B both said at the same time. Kie laughed and looked back to the road. 

“You boys are so clueless.”

“Damn,” Pope breathed. “And they didn’t tell us?”

“He’s afraid of commitment and she’s got abandonment issues, of course they waited this long.” 

“Kie, when did you become a goddamn genius?” 

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.” 

The van rattled down the road, the three friends laughing together. 

                                                           ***

JJ’s arms curled around your stomach, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He slept softly, breathing gently through his nose. Every now and again, he would mumble something, his lips grazing against your exposed skin. 

But you were wide awake. You ran your fingers aimlessly up and down his arms, relishing in the feeling of his skin still against yours. 

He hadn’t stopped telling you you were beautiful since he first said it. Every chance he got, the words would pass his lips. He probably said it more times than anything else, other than “shit” and “fuck”, which you loved to hear almost just as much. Almost. 

When he flopped down next to you, sweaty, breathless, and still grinning like an idiot, he wrapped his arms around you and said it one last time, whispering it into your ear before he fell asleep. 

And you believed him every time. 

If he had been any other boy, this was the time when you would have scurried out of bed, collected your clothes, and made a break for it. But you stayed. There was no where you would rather be than here, cradled in the arms of the boy who loved you. The boy that you loved. 

You moved slowly, carefully, turning until you faced him. JJ groaned quietly, shifting his head against the pillow, but he didn’t wake. You felt yourself smile again at the sight of him. That stupid grin was finally gone from his face. Now you found that you were missing it. 

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your voice quieter than the breeze that blew the curtain of the window above you. You tucked your head under his chin and he pulled you in tighter. A smile graced your lips. 

Even if he didn’t hear you, it was good to say aloud. Maybe now you could say it when he was awake. Maybe someday. Maybe not today, but someday. That thought was enough to sing you to sleep. 

JJ opened a single eye and looked down at you, unable to keep his smile at bay any longer. You had fallen asleep quickly, but he didn’t care. You didn’t need to know he heard you. He would deal with that in the morning. For now, he just let you sleep. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Little Things in Life - 5

Warnings: cheating, non-consent sex (series); not the sex you’re expecting but it’s the sex you get.

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Summary: Your suburban life begins to show cracks and your next door neighbour, Steve Rogers, seems intent on shattering what’s left.

Note: I finished part 7 yesterday but I’m legit just coasting at this point which means that I’m not rushing anything. I’m doing what I feel like in order to manage my anxiety so one day at a time. :D I do appreciate you all reading. Thanks to everyone for their feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Based on this drabble

You didn’t sleep well at all. You woke early and pulled on your torn jeans and the old tank with the bulldog on the front. You looked in on Kayla before you went downstairs and carefully crept to the back door. You went to the shed and got your tools. 

Your small garden in the back was marked off with chicken wire and stakes. You climbed over the low barrier and checked in on the early sprouts. Carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes to start. It would be a while as the tomato vines had only began to wind up the cages.

You heard the gate. You stood up and neared the fence. Your heart sank as you saw Steve round the corner of your house. He wore only a pair of track pants and his sneakers. You glanced up at your bedroom window; confused.

“Hot out, today,” He said.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was on my morning run.” He neared and you backed away from the wire. “I didn’t see you out front.”

“Oh gee, it seems like maybe I’m avoiding you.” You hissed.

“Logan tell you about Thursday?” He asked. You nodded. “Should I grab some wine? Or tequila?”

“I don’t think I’ll be drinking for a while.” You muttered. “Please, go.”

He put his hands on his hips. You didn’t miss the way he pushed his chest out or the way the muscles of his arms bulged. You tore your eyes away guiltily. He chuckled.

“I’m married,” You whispered and slowly glanced at him. “And I’m not interested.”

“You could’ve fooled me, honey,” He leaned on the top of the low fence. “You were shaking like a virgin.”

“Stop.” You sneered. “Go.”

He smirked and stood straight. He stretched his hands and traced a line of sweat along his torso with his finger.

“I’ll see you on Thursday.” He said. “Can’t wait.”

He left you with as little fanfare as he’d arrived. Your shovel slipped from your hand and speared the dirt. You spun and grabbed your head as if it would burst. You squatted down to collect your things. He wasn’t going to stop.

🏠

The days flew by. You hated how time could seem to drag one moment, only to speed up when you wanted it to stand still. You were trying desperately to distract yourself from the two men tearing you apart. 

You spent hours in your office working as your mother volunteered to watch Kayla. You could hear them in the front room, giggling. You were thankful for the help though you regretted that your mom was spending her vacation time with your kid.

Logan’s nights were as late as ever. Your conversations tense. Every time you looked at him you saw Karina; the reflection of him as he posed in the mirror. He fucked you again on Tuesday. It was as unenjoyable as Sunday though you were surprised by his sudden burst of libido. Until you found out that Karina was out of town.

You were distracted from your blinking cursor as your thoughts drifted to your brewing resent. You rubbed your eyes and leaned back in your chair. It was harder and harder to focus.

A knock had you spinning around in the chair. You listened as your mother answered it and her voice came muffled through the door. You stood and went to peek down the hall. You cursed silently as you spied your visitor on the doorstep. Your mother turned back and smiled as she saw you.

“You’ve got a guest,” She chimed.

You sighed and emerged from behind the door. You tramped down the carpet and your mother gave a smile to Steve before she flitted back into the front room. Her voice spiked as she greeted Kayla and your daughter giggled in response. You leaned on the door with a frown.

“I’m working,” You said. “And my mother is here.”

“She’s nice,” He replied. “Like you.”

“My daughter is in the next room,” You lowered your voice. “I told you to stay away.”

“You know that’s not gonna happen,” He licked his lips. “I know that you’re looking forward to tomorrow as much as me.”

“You need to go.” You sneered.

“I just wanted to return these,” He held up your gardening glove. The spare pair with the teddy bears on them that you kept buried at the bottom of your basket of tools. “You forgot them last week.”

“What?” You reached out to take them and he caught your hand. He stepped closer and pushed your palm against his crotch. “Steve!”

He cupped his hand around yours and you felt a twitch. You tried to recoil but he had a firm hold on you.

“You should wear something nice tomorrow.” He purred. “Maybe a dress.”

“Let me go,” You demanded as you struggled with him. “What are you--”

He relented and shoved your gloves into your hand. He clung to you and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I think of you… at night,” His lips brushed your temple. “It’s so exciting. I can’t stop thinking what it’d be like if you were really there. With me. Beneath me.”

Your lip trembled as he finally released you. You drew back and grabbed the door. He stopped it before you could slam it.

“Now, now,” He said with a smirk. “Your daughter’s in the next room.” He pulled his hand away slowly. “You don’t wanna scare her.”

You stared at him and shook your head. Stunned.

“Bye… Steve,” You uttered and closed the door gently. 

You could see him through the frosted glass. You turned the lock and but he didn’t retreat. His palm came clear through the window as he touched it and you backed away. You looked down at your gloves and heard his fingers slide down the glass.

You went to the living room and looked in on your mother and Kayla. They were nestled on the sofa as they watched cartoon superheroes. You smiled but it quickly died as you forced yourself away from the doorway. You continued onto your office and glanced back at the door. The glass was pale; Steve was gone.

You carried on to the back door and eased the screen door open. You crept quietly down the steps and neared the shed. You stopped dead as you saw the latch. The lock was broken and the metal loop was on the ground. 

You neared cautiously and pulled the door open. Your gardening basket was overturned. He wanted you to know he’d been there. It was a message; he would find a way to get to you.

🏠

Thursday came and your mother picked up Kayla at five. Logan was home early to your surprise and seemed eager to finish the beer he’d left at the Rogers’. You were in dread as you looked in the mirror and turned in your loose dress. 

You were certain that even with a belt cinched at the waist, it betrayed little of your figure. The neckline was high-cut and the skirt reached your knees. You wore flats and a thin cardigan over it. You were assured that you were matronly enough to deter your covetous neighbour.

You were so distracted, that your anger with Logan was only a nagging jab in the ribs compared to the tightness in your chest. The anxiety that had you clutching the thin handles of the tall gift bag. You’d gone out and bought the same brand of wine Steve had given you. A gift for Sharon. Out of courtesy, or maybe, it was guilt.

You crossed the street with your husband. You avoided looking at him. You found it harder every day. Sooner or later, you knew you’d snap. You’d have to say something. You couldn’t live like this forever.

Sharon answered the door. She wore a red jumpsuit that enhanced her figure. The last of her baby weight was barely noticeable. She was stunning. You handed her the wrapped bottle of wine and she thanked you as she peeked in the bag.

“Steve’s in the den,” She said to Logan. “But dinner’s on it’s way.”

Your husband thanked her and dipped into the next room. She beckoned you into the kitchen and gave you a stack of plates.

“We should set the table.” She said. “I might be too lazy to cook but I can pretend I did.”

She grabbed the silverware and followed you into the dining room. Like the rest of her house, it was immaculately decorated. You recalled the designer she had brought in last year to do the nursery. You wondered how her and Steve could live in such a boring cul-de-sac. They should be secluded away in some exuberant mansion.

“Then, you can help me make the margaritas,” She trilled and drew you from your envy. “Oh, take that thing off.”

She dumped the utensils on the table as you set down the plates. 

“How old is this dress?” She asked as she pushed your cardigan down your shoulders. “Have you lost weight?”

“I… don’t know.” 

You wriggled free of your sleeves and let her sling your cardigan on the bag of one of the chairs. You began to place the plates carefully around the table. She turned to a small table and opened the slender drawer. She pulled out some folded cloth napkins and began to roll up the silver in the black cotton.

“I was on this mission once. When I was younger.” She said as you neared to help her. “I was undercover as a waitress for two months. By the end of it, I wondered if it would be easier to just stay. It was a nice restaurant and the tips…”

“I did some bar tending in university,” You offered. “I got demoted to cleaning dishes after I broke a bottle of Grey Goose.”

She laughed and watched you place the cutlery alongside the plates. When you finished, she led you back into the kitchen and set up her big blender. She dumped in ice, Cointreau, and a healthy dose of tequila. You recognized the half-finished mickey from the party. She revealed another from under the counter and added to her brew.

“Um, I don’t know if you need all tha--” 

She held down the button and the motor drowned out your voice. She nodded to the cupboard and you turned and opened it. You pulled out for stemmed glasses and placed them on the counter. She turned off the blender and lined the rims with salt before she poured the icy mixture.

The doorbell rang and she shoved the glasses towards you.

“That should be the food,” She announced. “Take those to the table and get the guys, will you?”

You watched her go, her strides long as she floated on her gold heels. You took the glasses out two at a time and then dipped your head into the den. Steve and Logan chattered as sports highlights flashed on the large television.

“Dinner,” You said quietly.

Steve looked up first and nodded. He stood and Logan mirrored him. Steve waved him along first and your husband surprised you as he neared and placed a peck on your lips. You turned as he wrapped his arm around you and guided you across the hall. His hand rested on your hip but you nearly jumped as you felt a pinch on your ass. That wasn’t Logan.

You ignored it and swept away from Logan as you entered the dining room and sat at the chair where your cardigan hung. Your husband sat beside you and Steve made sure to take the seat across from you. You avoided his eyes as you let Logan hold your hand on the arm of the chair.

Sharon entered with a bowl of roasted potatoes. Next she entered with a rotisserie chicken and finally a spiced veggie medley. You couldn’t believe she had paid for the delivery. You knew the restaurant well and it was expensive on its own and the delivery fee was little better. You’d only been there once and Logan had bawked at the bill.

Sharon served each of you and then took her own seat. She reached for her cup and raised it.

“There’s more in the kitchen,” She promised. “I’ve pumped enough for another hangover.”

You gave a sheepish smile and sipped. Steve took a large gulp as his eyes caught yours and you quickly averted your gaze. You focused on your plate and barely tasted the savoury food. You flinched as you felt something against your foot. 

Your flat was so thin you could clearly feel the leather toe of Steve’s shoe against yours. You nearly choked and hid it with the glass. You shot him a dark look and he smirked. He was brazen though the other two seemed entirely oblivious. You pulled your feet back and tangled them under your chair.

“So, Sharon,” You cleared your throat. “I heard you were thinking of going back to work early.”

“Oh, yes, actually, I was just discussing my return and, well,” She smiled and looked to her husband. “I hadn’t had the chance to tell Steve but… they’ve offered me part-time hours until I’m back in full form and then I can get back in the field.”

“Mmm,” Logan swallowed and turned to Steve. “What about you? I thought you were hanging it up.”

“I am,” Steve assured him. “It’s not for me. I’m just fine staying home with Sarah… admittedly, I didn’t think Sharon would be going back so soon.”

There was a silence and you glanced over at Logan. He shifted in his chair, realising he may have stoked a spark to a flame.

“Steve,” Sharon said softly.

“It’s fine,” He pushed a potato around with his fork. “Really. Only part-time.”

“I… haven’t said yes, yet,” She lowered her voice.

“No, no, if that’s what you want,” He shrugged. “We talked about it before. You know that whatever you want, I want. I just didn’t expect it to happen… now.”

“I didn’t either but--”

“Let’s talk about it later,” He interrupted. “We have company.”

Sharon laughed nervously and glanced across the table. Your lips wavered as you tried to hold your smile and you took a bite of chicken just to keep yourself busy. You looked down at your plate again then back up. Steve was watching you again. He raised a brow and tilted his head just a little; as if to say, see?

[bonjour-rainycity]

The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 17

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/625767180394479616/the-long-way-around-chapter-16

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word count: 2669

Warnings: None

Jasper’s POV

The minute the plane comes to a halt, I’m standing. I need to get off of this plane, for two reasons. One, being the burn in my throat. Carlisle was kind enough to secure us first class seats, which grants us slightly more space, but in this metal cage with recycled air, the scent of human blood is strong. I know I can resist, that I will resist, but, as always, there’s that voice in the back of my head telling me it’s not worth it. Telling me that the humans would taste so much better and outweigh any shame or guilt I would feel. I clench my teeth against the temptation and think of my other, more pressing reason to get off the plane.

Y/n is only a few hundred miles away.

After the vastness of the ocean between us, this distance seems inconsequential. I consider running. I would be faster than Carlisle’s car, anyways. The sun won’t rise for another two and a half hours and if I really push it, I could be home before then.

Esme’s hand ghosts over my shoulder and I turn to see her compassionate smile. “We’ll drive fast.”

I hold back a sigh, knowing it would be incredibly rude to ditch my parents but dissatisfied with the three hours of separation still facing me.

As the door opens to allow our exit, I press forward, projecting just a tiny amount of intimidation to keep the humans out of our way. I can feel Carlisle’s disapproval, but I ignore it. It’s all I can do not to break out at full run, so speeding up our exit just a little feels tame in comparison.

We have no bags to retrieve, thank goodness, and, ten minutes from our exit of the plane, we’re sliding into Carlisle’s sleek Mercedes. Not wanting to make a liar out of Esme, Carlisle floors it, and soon we’re speeding towards our little town. I want to call Y/n, to let her know we’re on our way, but a thought stops me. Maybe catching her by surprise would be more fun. So, I tuck my phone back in my pocket, and wait.

{***}

The wheels roll against the concrete of the driveway, and I’m sure she can hear it. I nearly tremble with excitement. Should I get out and run? Or should I wait in the car? It’s really only a few miles left, running would be faster. Ugh, but the sun is up and we’re still too close to the main road. A human could see me and that would bring the Volturi here and that would be awful. Okay, so I’ll wait until we’re under the cover of the trees and then-

With Carlisle’s crazy driving, the miles fell away as I contemplated my course of action. The car skids to a stop in front of our house, and I see Y/n’s beaming face from her spot on the front porch.

I’m out of the car in an instant, meeting her halfway and pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. Her joy surrounds me, and I lean closer, intoxicated. I don’t know where her elation ends and mine begins, and perhaps that’s because it doesn’t. Our emotions mingle perfectly, entwined and inseparable.

I begin to feel a bit lightheaded.

She laughs exuberantly, burying her face in my chest. “I missed you so much.”

I lay my head on top of hers, unable and unwilling to contain my smile. “I bet I missed you more.”

Someone makes a gagging sound, but I feel only happiness and relief from those around me. Probably Rosalie, just joking around. But then Y/n grips the back of my neck and pulls me down for a kiss, and I can only focus on her. Wanting to get closer to her, a nearly impossible goal, I push her against the nearest surface, which happens to be side of Carlisle’s car. Her hands tangle in my hair and mine roam her body. There’s a low groan, and suddenly she’s shifting backwards, falling, almost. I shoot a hand out to stop our downward momentum, pressing a fraction of my weight into the top of the Mercedes. We stumble away, wondering what could have happened.

The dent in the shape of Y/n’s back, as well as the handprint on the roof of the car paint a pretty clear picture.

Suddenly, I understand exactly how Rosalie and Emmett broke entire houses. I want nothing, especially not measly little structures of metal and leather, to stand in the way of my passion for her.

Y/n laughs, biting her lip in slight embarrassment, and I can’t help but join in. As soon as they realize what happened, my family bursts into laughter too. With a sheepish expression, I turn to Carlisle. “I’ll fix that.”

“No,” Rosalie stomps over, rolling her eyes. “I’ll fix that. Y/n, go show them what we did.”

Y/n’s excitement flares, as does my curiosity, and she grabs my hand. “Come on.”

Dutifully, Carlisle, Esme and I, trailed by everyone except for Rosalie and Emmett, follow her up to the second floor.

“Behold,” she declares theatrically, throwing the door to her room open.

Her room is completely different from how I left it and undeniably her. Hints of her favorite colors can be found all around the room, as well as things she likes, like soft lights and fluffy blankets—tastes that are likely left over from her human years.

“It’s beautiful,” Esme coos, and we file in the room to get a better look.

Emmett and Rosalie join us then, our bags in hand.

“Car’s fixed but I don’t think it could take another hit like that,” Rosalie smirks, handing me my suitcase.

Emmett chortles. “Yes, do try to control yourself better, dear brother.”

I roll my eyes but thank them nonetheless.

Alice floats around the room, explaining who made and painted and designed what, and Arthur proudly presents the window seat he crafted. I toy with the twinkly lights above Y/n’s bed, enjoying how they reflect small specks of brightness across her face. Then, something catches my attention.

“Your eyes are different,” I murmur, tracing the pads of my fingers over her cheekbone. And it’s true, they do look different. The vibrance of the crimson has faded and the first hints of shining gold peek through. Had they really changed so much in just the few days of my absence? Or had I not been able to notice before since I was with her all the time? No, I correct myself, knowing the truth. I would have noticed.

My observation sends a new burst of happiness through her, and she runs to the nearest mirror, pulling me behind her.

She exclaims in happiness when she sees that, indeed, the redness that marks her as a newborn is beginning to fade. She feels a soft, faint sense of belonging, and I kiss the top of her head.

We agree to unpack and then meet in the living room to debrief, so to speak. It’s my understanding that Carlisle didn’t explain much on the phone, and the others are curious. I tug on Y/n’s hand, pulling her towards the stairs. She follows wordlessly, but I feel her anticipation, her desire. The second I shut my bedroom door, I’m kissing her. Unlike our kiss outside, this one is soft, but no less passionate. Her scent floods my nose, and I realize that it’s not just from her physical presence in front of me, but from the room itself. She’s been in here. Perhaps she missed me and came up here to feel closer to me. That thought makes me smile.

She pulls back, her exhale warm against my neck when she speaks. “You have no idea how much I missed you, how much I worried….” On the contrary, I have an exact idea of her feelings, because I had spent the past five days feeling them for myself. If I hadn’t known it was necessary for me to go to protect my family, to protect her, there’s no way I would have gotten on that plane. I tell her so, and she nuzzles back into my chest.

“Let’s just hope that next time I’ll be controlled enough to go with you.”

I disagree, but say nothing. Even if she grows to rival Carlisle with her control, I will do everything in my power to dissuade her from visiting the Volturi. Still, their invitation looms, and I look for something to distract myself from the sudden darkness filling me.

I notice the surfaces of my room are devoid of dust. My books are straightened, and my bedding smells freshly washed, carrying a hint of Y/n’s scent towards me. A slow, wondrous smile spreads across my face.

“Did you do this?”

She nods, seeming shy. “I remembered how nice it is to come home to a fresh and clean space, and I thought you might like it too.”

I beam, gripping her tighter into a hug and kissing the top of her head. “Thank you!” Truly, I’m thankful, and quite amazed. I’ve never had someone care for me like this before, just a quiet act of thoughtfulness that reminded me that she was thinking of me, that she wanted me to be happy. She hums contentedly, and I’m sure I must be projecting some of the pleasantness I feel onto her.

She plops onto the bed while I unpack. She tells me about her training and how much better she’s gotten, and I beam. A trip might actually be a real possibility.

“Do you want to go to the edge of town tomorrow, try something harder?”

She pauses, and I feel her hesitation. But also her excitement.

“Sure.” She bites her lip. “Just don’t let me kill anybody.”

I lean over my suitcase to place a lingering kiss on her lips. “I never will.”

Esme calls to us then, and she and Carlisle appear outside my door. Y/n gets off the bed to open it and is immediately pulled into a hug.

“Thank you for freshening up our room, dear.” Esme’s voice is soft, her emotions fond. And though Carlisle’s hand is on Y/n’s shoulder, his eyes are on me, feeling certain.

I can only guess as to what that means.

After I put my last few shirts away, we head downstairs, meeting the rest of the family in the living room. Carlisle quickly informs everyone of his discussion with Aro.

“He agreed to dissuade others from attacking us, so that should buy us some time. Now that Aro knows we’re aware of his plot, he’ll have to regroup. I don’t think he’ll bother us for another half century or so.”

“How comforting,” Arthur mumbles sardonically.

I crack a smile.

Edward’s head tilts to the side, considering. “Yes, I can see that, Carlisle. It might be a good idea to get it over with.”

To get what over with?

Edward grimaces, and suddenly I know very well what he means.

“No.”

“Isn’t it better to meet them on our terms than to be caught unprepared,” he suggests, appealing to my sense of strategy.

I shake my head, adamant. “When it was Bella, you did everything you could to keep her away from them. I ask now that you extend the same courtesy to me.”

“Okay,” Y/n holds up a hand, effectively stopping our arguing. “What are we talking about?”

Carlisle sighs, turning his wary gaze to Y/n. “Aro, Caius, and Marcus were very interested in your abilities. They request that I extend an invitation to you to meet them, though with the Volturi, it’s more likely to be a demand than a request.”

I feel her spike of fear and resolve immediately to do whatever I can to keep this interaction from happening. We would go on the run, we would move to a new continent, I would fight them, anything, I-

“That won’t be necessary, Jasper, we have time,” Edward interrupts, sounding unsure. “They’re allowing space for her to become more controlled to travel, so we fudge the timeline.”

“And when they lose their patience,” I counter icily.

“I agree with Carlisle and Edward,” Y/n declares, her voice filled with false confidence. My head whips to look at her. “It will be better if we get the meeting over with rather than allowing it to be an axe hanging over our heads. As soon as I can get on a plane without going on a murder spree, I should go to Volterra.”

I take steadying breaths and squeeze my eyes shut as all the horrible ways this could go wrong flash through my brain. I feel Edward’s sympathy and fight the urge to lash out at him.

Y/n places her soft hand on mine. “For all we know, it could be years, Jasper. Let’s just take this one day at a time.”

With clenched teeth, I nod, though I’m resolved to try and talk her out of this later. She’s less likely to agree here, in front of the family, but maybe when I can get her alone…can influence her emotions to make her more agreeable….

I quickly shake the plan from my head, feeling ashamed at the thoughts. No, her choices are her own and, as much as I might disagree and be terrified of the outcome, I have to respect that. Whatever she chooses though, I’ll be at her side. That much is certain.

“What matters now is that we are all safe,” Carlisle reminds us, doing his best to offer a calming presence. Somewhat reluctantly, I give him a hand. The tension leaves everyone’s shoulders.

Esme smiles, evidently ready to change the subject. “I am in desperate need of a hunt. Would anyone like to join me?”

Venom pricks at my mouth and I remember the fiery burn from the plane, from the castle, from the streets. Yes, I need to hunt as well.

Quite quickly, everyone is running out the back door and into the forest, excited to hunt together. Most vampires prefer to hunt alone, feeling threatened by the presence of another of our kind, but my family is different. I agree with Carlisle’s theory, that giving up human blood and fighting our natural instincts makes us much better at bonding with our kind.

We have to go quite far due to our large hunting party, but Y/n and I stay relatively close to the house, only thirty or so miles away. The game is smaller and less satisfying but I don’t think it would be good for either of us to come across a stray human right now, and it’s less likely that they would be found in the thick forest surrounding our property.

After draining an entire herd of elk, Y/n and I lean against a tree, her head on my chest. I smile, remembering the gift in my pocket.

“As you requested, ma’am.” With a flourish, I pull the stiff rectangle from my pocket and present it to Y/n.

She grins, realizing what it is. “You got me a postcard!”

Before we’d left Volterra, I’d covered myself extensively and ventured out into the last moments of darkness blanketing the city. It had been difficult finding somewhere that was open at five in the morning, but, eventually, I managed, and made it back just in time to slip into the tinted car as the sun peeked over the horizon.

“Thank you,” she hugs the card to her chest then folds it carefully into her own pocket. “I’m going to put it on my wall when we get back.”

I chortle, unable to hide my amusement. “Your one postcard?”

She gives me a look. “I’m going to add to the collection eventually.”

I just smile and rub her arm, pulling her back against my chest.

What I feel is certain. I’m home.

A/n Y’all, I really probably should have waited longer to post this so I could be a chapter ahead but I was just so dang excited for them to reunite! So, here we are. Let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you would like to be added to the tag list!

xx, 

Bjr

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/626747740297314304/the-long-way-around-chapter-18

Tag list: @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @one-thread-can-save-a-life @salsameter @enchantedcruelsummer @meashy-moo @sana-li @femflorals @80strashbag @tomisbaeholland @heyimval13 @triscuitcracker @deviantly-gayy @sleepywinnie847 @vexingcosmos @avalongrey @artms-blnd @blackloveangel13 

[midnightvioletlounge]

There were several times during GMMORE#2081 that it looked as though there was going to be an ~*accidental kiss*~, so, here’s a fic for that, written as a missing scene. Rating is E and therefore under a cut, but it’s like, a soft E.

Switching to the red bubble bottle had turned out to be a good idea. Link had gotten the hang of blowing bubbles without putting too much breath behind them. Link dipped the wand back into the bottle, fishing it out, and blowing through it gently. This time, a lot of little bubbles emerged, and only several medium-sized ones. In an unspoken decision, the two decided to jut their faces towards the medium-sized bubbles, hoping to catch a whiff of their scent. With frenzied and distracted movements, Rhett tilted his head down at the same moment Link tilted his head up. Their lips brushed briefly and they froze in place, as if someone had pressed “pause.” Link’s cheeks were scarlet, his heart slamming against his rib cage, as he stared at Rhett in confusion and disbelief, seeing his expression mirrored back at him. Off to the side, Stevie had both hands over her mouth in shock, her thoughts coming to a screeching halt before her brain was able to bring her back to the current moment. The many years she spent working with these men had her getting the episode back on track in very little time. Once the filming was finished, everyone broke for lunch. Link hurried out of the room as fast as he could, rushing off to the office he shared with Rhett on pure instinct. He would always come there when he felt overwhelmed, but Rhett had never been the source. Almost as soon as he stepped inside and shut the door, it opened again and Rhett stepped through into their office. Still facing forward, Link moved towards his desk, trying to appear lost in any other task that didn’t involve looking at Rhett. He needed a second to <i>breathe</i>, feeling as if all the air had rushed from his lungs. Rhett stepped towards Link’s desk, and Link’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Do you need to talk about this?” Rhett asked. That annoyed Link. He knew that Rhett was just as affected by this as he was. “Just because I’m a verbal processor doesn’t mean I need to talk about everything,” Link told him. “Actually, yes it does. That’s the definition of a verbal processor,” Rhett returned. “Well for your information, I don’t need to,” Link said curtly.

“Then how come you haven’t looked at me since we got back here?” Rhett asked. Link tensed, slowly raising his head, forcing himself to meet Rhett’s eyes. He felt his heart clench at the vulnerability that stared back at him. Lifting his chin in determination, but keeping his voice gentle, Link said, “Alright. I’ll talk about it. But only if you admit that I’m not the only one that needs to.” Rhett sighed shakily. “Fine,” he muttered. “What’s fine?” Link asked, quirking his eyebrow. “Fine, I need to talk about it,” Rhett gritted out, his cheeks reddening with the effort. “You know you really are getting better at that, talking about your emotions,” Link told him genuinely. He couldn’t help but smile fondly at Rhett. Rhett smiled back before quickly turning towards the couch and plopping down on it. He patted the space next to him, and Link sat down. “Okay,” Link sighed gearing himself up for this conversation. “Can you start?” Rhett asked, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s uh...it’s still hard to do you know?” Link nodded. And Rhett had at least admitted that this was affecting him too. “We’ve never done that before,” Link began and Rhett nodded. “I’ve...I’ve never kissed anyone but my wife. I’ve never been attracted to men. Or even thought about a guy.” Rhett’s gaze fell to his lap. “But...” Link continued, and Rhett glanced back up at him. “But I feel like, if...if you’d done that before today, I don’t think I would have minded too much.” Link took off his glasses and began to clean them, using it as an excuse to not have to look at Rhett. He felt something cold and tight in his chest, the fear of losing Rhett gripping onto him with its tendrils. “But I mean, that would have been like...it wouldn’t have happened, would have been too weird right?” It was a feeble attempt at an out, and to his surprise, Rhett didn’t take it. “I uh...I think that’s true for me too,” Rhett admitted. Link dropped his glasses, unsurprisingly with how much his hands were shaking. Rhett eased them back onto Link’s face with such gentleness that it made Link dizzy. “Christy told me that she and Jessie had a real deep talk the week before our wedding. She said they agreed that, so long as we were good husbands and faithful to them too, that if you and I ever...” Link trailed off, feeling too warm, his skin too tight. “Jessie said the same thing to me,” Rhett revealed. “Although, after what happened in Hawaii, I figure we gotta let that be okay for the two of them too.”

Link nodded, hardly able to believe anything that had happened over the course of the last hour.

“Now, I ain’t gonna push you into doing something you don’t want to but--” Rhett was cut off by the feel of Link’s hands reaching out to cradle his head, and the firm press of Link’s lips against his own.

Link pulled back, breathing heavily. “Sorry. Had to be impulsive before I lost the nerve” he laughed shyly. He was hot all over, his body feeling as if it was being pulled towards Rhett.

Rhett wrapped his arms tightly around Link, leaning in to kiss him with the pent up passion of decades-long repression. Link couldn’t help but whimper, arms encircling Rhett’s back as he returned the kiss with just as much fervor. Someone’s tongue gently prodded the lips of the other, their tongues slipping into each other’s mouths, sliding languidly across the other’s.

They pulled apart for air, hard and breathless, utterly debauched.

“I want to stop,” Link said, and at Rhett’s dejected expression, Link gripped him tightly. “No I don’t mean like, stop stop. I mean...I just wanna do this right man.”

Rhett looked up at him curiously. “What do you mean ‘right’?”

“I wanna, you know, take things slow and like...c-court you a bit,” Link admitted, blushing to the tips of his ears.

“...Are you asking me out?” Rhett asked.

And Link was about to tell him off for teasing him before he saw how genuinely delighted Rhett appeared.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am,” Link laughed softly. “I’ll pick you up at 8 on Friday?” “It’s a date,” Rhett replied, beaming at him.

[stargazedmoony]

Excerpt from a story I’ll never write: A day at the Muggle-zoo.

“We’re going to have him for a whole day!”

Sirius was bouncing up and down next to Remus, who was styling his hair in the mirror. Remus snickered. “Would you knock it off already— you might poke my eye out.” Sirius laughed widely at him, exposing his freshly-brushed set of perfect teeth. “I can’t help it!” he said. “I’m just so excited. I can’t believe it!” He threw his hands up in the air so that Remus really had to duck this time to avoid having his eye poked out. “A whole day spend with the love of my life!”

“Oh, well, that’s sweet of you,” Remus said, grabbing his toothbrush. “But don’t you think Harry—”

“Oh no, I meant Harry!”

Remus opened his mouth, surprised. “Well, shit,” he said, grinning. “I’ve got competition.”

Sirius threw his arms around his husband, kissing him in the neck. “Oh, don’t you worry, tiger. My love’s up in the universe for you. Harry’s just a tiny star.” Remus smiled. “Makes me feel a little bit better,” he said, shrugging Sirius off of him so he could move his arm to brush his teeth.

“Alright, lover! Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done,” Sirius said, happily. Remus hadn’t seen him glow like that in a while. “I’ve got breakfast ready.”

Breakfast was done in a nick of time for Sirius was too excited to eat his burned toast in peace. He gulped it down and then just sat at the dining table, looking so restlessly at Remus that Remus put his half-eaten piece of bread in a sandwich bag to take with him on the road. He rolled his eyes as Sirius cleaned up the table in a rush so Remus could put on his shoes. He didn’t know what Sirius was more excited about: the fact that they were going to spend a whole day with Harry or that they were going to a real Muggle-zoo.

Sirius had been so impressed when Remus had suggested the idea to him and James and Lily, only knowing of it for having studied Muggle Studies at school. Lily had immediately backed him up of course, remembering her own good times visiting the zoo with her parents and sister. Remus wasn’t really that much of a fan, to be very honest. He didn’t like the idea of animals being kept in cages, because of the fact that the Ministry of Magic did the exact same thing with werewolves at the night of the full moon. Registered werewolves, at least.

But for a toddler, he’d thought that it’d be fun. And by toddler, he meant Sirius as much as Harry.

“Ready?” Sirius said, handing him the sack of Floo Powder.

“Come on, get moving,” Remus said, smiling and pushing him in the back. Sirius grabbed him by the hand and together they stepped into the fireplace that had been magically enchanted to fit the both of them. “Count to three,” Sirius said. “One, two, three— The Potters!” The words hadn’t even completely left their tongues yet, but their home vanished away and instead of their living room, they saw multiple other blurry wizarding homes. The simmering sparks of fire didn’t hurt one bit and in less than ten seconds Remus and Sirius stepped out of the fireplace onto a nice and clean red carpet.

“Oi, Moony! Padfoot!” James came walking into the living room of his home as Sirius and Remus brushed the rest of some ashes off of their shoulders. “What’s poppin’, Prongs?” Sirius said, nodding his head. James looked at him in horror. “What’s what now?” he asked, looking at Remus as if he would have some kind of cure to fix whatever just came out of Sirius’s mouth. Remus shrugged his shoulders in a way that said: “I’m as lost as you are”, but he opened his mouth to say: “Something he picked up in the record store in town. Apparently, it’s the slang kids use these days.”

Sirius shot him a look. “Apparently,” he said, mocking Remus. “It makes me sound dope, so shut your face.”

James’s eyes were now really wide with disturbance. “Pads, if you talk like that in front of my child, I swear to god—”

“No, no! I’m sorry, I’ll act normal,” Sirius said, quickly. “Well—” He very attractively flipped his hair over his shoulder. “—As normal as I can be, of course.” He winked at Remus, who felt his stomach flutter at this. Handsome devil, he thought.

“Where’s Harry, anyway?” Sirius went on, looking around the room as if Harry was hiding behind some cushions. “Is he—” But suddenly the door flew open and Lily came in, carrying Harry, an adorable miracle of a small child, on her arm.

“I thought I heard some annoyingly familiar voices,” she said, nodding to Sirius. The long-haired boy scoffed, but his eyes were far too distracted to pay any attention to her. They were on Harry, who had his tiny arms stretched out to his godfather ever since he’d first laid eyes on him. “Hello, my darling!” Sirius said, enthusiastically. “If your dear mother would let me— that’s a good girl. Hi, Harry!” Sirius had gracefully taken over Harry from Lily’s arms and held him high up in the air. “How are you doing today?”

“Paddie!” Harry cooed. “Mummy said zoo?”

“Oh, you just keep on getting better at talking! Remus, do you hear that?” Sirius was delighted, looking so full of pride, Remus couldn’t help but wonder why his chest was not bursting yet. But Remus was very proud as well— Harry spoke much more articulately since the last time they'd seen him.

“Mummy was right,” Sirius said. “Do you even know what a zoo is? James, how can you teach him words and not—”

“Remus?” As Sirius kept on talking to James and Harry, Lily turned to Remus. “You’ll take good care of them, right?” she asked him. He nodded. “Of course, Lils, there’s no need to worry.”

She smiled gracefully, her freckles sparkling on her nose and a laugh filling her eyes. “I’ve packed him some lunch and he’s got his own cup to drink from, but you can buy him something at the zoo as well, if you want. He does like chocolate ice cream a lot. I think he’s got that from you—” Remus smiled apologetically at this. “—I’ve packed him some cookies, you know, those cute star-like ones? I chipped in a few for Sirius as well, just so you know.” Remus smiled at her and then leaned into her and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. She blushed.

“We’ll be fine,” Remus assured her. “I’ll have us all safely back at the end of the day.” He then turned to the boys. “Pads, you ready? Our bus leaves in ten minutes.” Sirius nodded. “Moowy!” the boy in his arms said, happily. “Oh, I’m being noticed,” Remus chuckled, walking over to the both of them and taking Harry over from Sirius. “Hi, lad,” he said, softly. Sirius watched him in loving awe. “C’mon, give your mummy a kiss goodbye.”

They bid everyone goodbye and then, finally, they were on their way to the zoo. It wasn’t really a long ride, but it was a tad awkward for the two boys for they had never in their lives used a buggy before. Harry was still too small to walk around on his feet for a whole day.

Once they arrived at the zoo, Sirius was glad Remus knew how to work with Muggle-money, because the little coins and shiny money notes made him dizzy and there were simply too many other distractions around him that he had to contain already. They followed the signs that were on either sides of the paths and those lead them to a small area with cages full of owls and very extraordinary looking birds.

“Bird!” Harry exclaimed, happily pointing at a great white owl who looked proudly around its cage. Its feathers were unnaturally clean, but gorgeous. “No, Harry. Owl. A snow-owl, actually,” Sirius read off of one of the signs. “Makes sense,” he nodded agreeably, looking back at the owl.

“Swow owl,” Harry said, and Remus chuckled. “Good job, lad,” he praised the little boy. For some reason, Harry couldn’t quite pronounce the letter ‘n’ yet. It suited his adorable, young face and in a silent moment, Remus wished Harry wouldn’t have to grow up and that he’d stay young forever. But, on the other hand, it filled Remus with intense happiness to know that he’d grow up to be there with him, and Sirius, too, and that one day, they’d be called uncle Padfoot and uncle Moony.

With that thought forming a smile on his lips, Remus let his hand slip into Sirius’s. Sirius seemed quite surprised by this for a second, but kept holding onto it. They never really showed off their relationship in public places, because they never really felt like they had to— it was enough that they knew one another’s love. The rest of the world had no business in it.

But, today it felt right. It’s like having a family of my own, Remus thought, delighted.

They had ice cream for lunch, chocolate flavour for Harry, and Sirius was overjoyed with the cookies that Lily had packed for him. “I must buy her a souvenir!” he said. “Maybe that stuffed animal-penguin we saw earlier? Oh, she’d love that!” Remus snickered at his enthusiasm and wiped Harry’s lips clean.

Suddenly, a shadow covered the sunlight from their view: “Excuse me.”

An older-looking man stood in front of them. “What a lovely son you have there. Here, I noticed he let his rattle fall onto the floor.” The man held out his hand and Remus took over the toy. “Th— Thanks,” he said surprised. “But it’s not our son, really. We’re just babysitting.”

“Oh, so you’re not—” The man seemed to be looking for words, but he didn’t need to. Proudly, as he always was, Sirius wrapped an arm around Remus’s shoulders. Remus started blushing immensely as Sirius held him close and said: “Oh, we are, yes.”

The man chuckled. “How endearing,” he said. “Oh, to be young and in love. Well, I wish you all a happy day.” He gave them a small wave and stroked Harry’s little bush of black curls. Sirius let his head rest on Remus’s shoulder. “I love those kind of people,” he sighed. “Can you believe he thought that we were… you know. Parents?” He chuckled at this.

“Well, what if we were?” Remus suddenly asked, carefully. Sirius looked up to look him in the eye. “Are you s—?”

“Padfoot, I will not make the joke.”

Sirius smirked. “Oh, you’re no fun,” he said, eyes twinkling. His face got a bit more serious again, before asking: “Do you mean it, though?”

Remus shrugged. “Would it freak you out that much?”

Sirius started shaking his head wildly. “No! No, not at all!” he said, squeezing Remus’s hands. “Moony, that’d be so lovely! Me, a dad! Harry, do you hear that?” But as they turned their heads, they saw that Harry’s chin was softly balancing on his chest, his eyes closed and snoring a bit. “Oh, what a weakling,” Sirius said, pursing his lips together.

“Sirius! He’s a kid!”

Sirius shrugged. “You’re calling me a kid all the time, but you don’t see me beauty sleeping here.” Remus disapprovingly shook his head at him. “Okay, sorry!” Sirius laughed. “Harry, I love you.”

“He can’t hear you.”

“Okay, then Remus, I love you.”

Remus started laughing. “You big goof,” he said, shaking his head. “Shall we talk about it later? Bit of big subject to talk about in a zoo, no?”

“What do you mean? They keep like 50 animals here, I think it can handle one big conversation.” Sirius laughed at Remus, looking happier than ever as he leaned in and stole a quick kiss from Remus’s lips.

“Can we go see the lions now?” he pouted.

Remus pulled him closer, not giving a damn in the world about people seeing them, and he kissed him gently back. “We can go see the lions now.”

— by: @stargazedmoony

in loving memory of Sirius Black.

[jay-and-dean]

Become That Girl  Part 2/2

Dean x reader

Summary : Y/n never was his type. She is the buddy type ; sexy and glamorous are just not her. It’s time to try to change that… To change everything about herself. And maybe, just maybe, this flirty smile will be for her next time…

Warning : Swearing. Suffering and mentions of unhealthy behaviors. Smut. Unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Fluff. Angst.

Words :7.5 k

Become That Girl Part 1/2

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

__________________________

            Three days, three nights. Two boxes of cereals, about seventeen double chocolate brownies, four pizzas, a bottle of whiskey and twenty-one beers, eleven painkiller pills and two sleeping pills, eleven cups of coffee. About a million tears.

           Three days, three nights. Only one sweatpants, one shower, no wax, no makeup, no moisturizer, no nail polish, no sweet smile, no flutter of lashes or girly tastes in anything. About a thousand swearwords.

             When a crumb of my piece of chocolate falls on my stomach, I lift my Led Zeppelin shirt to find it and stop my movement to look at the now yellow mark the girdle left on my ribs. It’s fading, just like the hickey on my neck and the bruise on my jaw. Soon, there will be no sign of him on me.

           I get up in a sigh, walk to the library, yawing. Dean’s room door is closed, he doesn’t come out a lot lately, and during my drowning-in-tears nights, I decided he must hide out of regret, disgust and maybe even a little shame. My broken heart shattered. Now nothing really matters anymore.

           I feel both like I had manipulated the man I love into something he didn’t want -disgusting of me-, and like he used me… Nothing feels right.

           I just stopped trying to be someone else because having him didn’t make me happier. Maybe if he had given me that precious smile at least, before he fucked me. If he had shown interest, an ounce of seduction, anything…

All these efforts and suffering only got me broken for good, my heart still on the floor in a dark alley behind a shady bar, next to a cum stain and a wet cigarette butt… And it must rain there because I’m freezing all the time, like it was under cold water, my heart.

           I go to the bathroom; the bunker is silent. In the shower, I use Dean’s shampoo again and flashes of my hands in his hair punch me in the guts again. The pleasure on his face, just for me and because of me.

           I had him. My plan worked… The man I love gave in to the slutty dress and the artifices but it wasn’t even enough to make him stay a minute in my arms, to get this damn flirty smile. I will never be enough, and now that our precious friendship is corrupted by sex, nothing is pure anymore.

Yet I somehow love him even more.

           I brush my entrance just to remember the fingers of the man I love there, and notice I don’t feel him anymore. I did ; for three days, I could still feel him here. But that is fading too… I don't want to be a woman anymore, I don't really want to be a person anyway. I will be a hunter, and it will be enough.

           I step out of the shower and stare at my blurry reflection in the misty mirror. No other man is going to touch me, I don't want anybody. And even if night fell on me forever, that is a little relief : It’s behind me now, love, life and all that crap. I can die, during the next hunt or when I’m seventy, I’m done caring.

 ***

           Dean’s powerful arms cage the werewolf from behind the best he can but he won’t hold on very long. I’m laying on the floor, panting, feeling the deep cuts of his claws on my stomach soak my clothes with burning blood.

“Y/n !” the hunter calls when the monster digs his claws in his bow legs to make him let go.

His voice is filled with awful pain, his face grimacing. I decided not to care anymore lately, and to be honest, I’m quite good at it. But Dean… Dean being in pain is enough to make me jump on my feet in an animalistic growl, ignoring the screams of my flesh.

It takes me a few steps to manage running, but when I do, my run-up allows me to stab through the werewolf ribs, skidding on it to reach his heart.

           The beast falls, taking me with him because I was still holding the blade. Dean offers me a hand to help me get up but I push it, using the table to get on my feet.

"Shit" I say, realizing I will need a thousand stitches.

"Y/n, let me see" the hunter tries but I grunt, holding my bleeding stomach with a shaking hand. "I'll take you to the hospital."

"I'm okay, Dean, I had worse, cut the crap."

"Cut the..." he sighs. "Stop playing so tough..."

"I'm not playing Dean" I mock, imitating him on the words playing. "I'm not one of your princess in distress."

He clenches his jaw, pushing my arm from my stomach brutally to see the three straight wounds. He grunts and pushes my shirt up. I try to push him but he seems pissed…

We grew apart, now I don’t know what he’s thinking anymore. I used to read him like a book but now… His features just darken and I can’t be sure why. Yes, I’m stern with him but is he pissed because of that, because I’m hurt, because I annoy him …?

Having him so close kind of hurt, it didn't happen since that night. Is smell, his strength, his skin.

"Jeez Y/n... You need stitches and cleaning that wound. I'll call Sammy to get rid of the body, just get in the car."

“I can do it myself” I try but he turns toward me, grabbing my arm.

“For once, stop being so stubborn, just… trust me just this time” he grunts, tugging at my arm. “I won’t touch you more than needed, promise.”

Fuck.

That hurts.

I’m not even able to know what hurts so much : The first clear evidence of his regrets, his disappointed tone, the promise itself…

Stupid.

             I'm looking out of the window, sitting away from the man I love to the point of atrocious pain, holding my guts. My head is dizzy from the loss of blood and the ache, but I stay silent. That feeling of shame won't leave me, and my mind keeps going every way : Was I bad ? Does he look at me different now that he knows how I feel ? Was I a disappointment ? He can see I'm not trying anymore... What if he thought I used him ? Just to get laid ?...

           An involuntary whine escapes my lips. And in the darkness of the car, surrounded by night in this country road, I feel his fingers reach my thigh.

"We're close, Y/n... I'm going as fast as I can. Just, talk to me to distract from the pain, okay ?"

Except your fingers hurt more than the cuts.

"I'm okay, Dean."

 ***

           This motel room have something comforting. Maybe it's because it looks exactly like some we already had, when I wasn't so broken. The disastrous wallpaper with ugly colors and ugly patterns, the little square table and the squeaking beds. And two kind of memories come to me :

           I remember this time in California when we were laughing together at two am again and Sam got mad… The wallpaper looked like this one. We couldn’t stop making the other laugh more and more, so Sammy kicked us out of the room. I managed to convince Dean to go to the motel’s swimming pool this night. We drank beers sitting with our feet in it, until I pushed him. I was craving a kiss or anything… But I was happy anyway.

           And I remember how difficult it was to work on my looks in those motel rooms. Struggling to wax, to wash, to have intimacy. Packing too many moisturizers and nail polish, the water running cold before my conditioner was rinsed... And I remember this time Dean asked me to come to the swimming pool, but I had just done my hair… Dean doesn’t like swimming pools, and I realize just now how desperate he was to get his friend back.

           I ruined everything.

           I sit on the bed carefully, very aware of the blood drying everywhere, gluing the fabric to the wounds, pulling at the flesh. Dean enters and closes the door, his eyebrows still frown in that expression of worry I have seen so often. His thigh is bleeding but he takes this first aid kit and kneels before me.

"Show me" he asks with that low velvety voice.

I lift my t-shirt, trying not to think of how soft his hair are, trying to prevent myself from feeling that empty, because I will just always be.

           My eyes are glued to him when he cleans the wound, when he carefully digs the needle in the delicate skin of my stomach, when that hurts like Hell, even when I still try to pull my stomach in and that it makes it worse. I just look at the freckles I can see on his nose, around his eyes... And lick my lips at the memory of his tongue caressing mine.

"Dean ?" I say without realizing it at all, like the need of seeing him look back had taken control of me for a second.

And when lifts his deep astonishing eyes on me, the pathetic pieces of my heart left here miss a beat.

"Yeah ?"

"Nothing" I whisper looking down.

But even with my eyes on my thighs, I can still see his glare on me, like he was hesitating to speak, maybe to tell me how much he regrets, or just wondering how he could have sex with me...

           He wipes his hands on the towel he used to remove the blood on my stomach and starts fiddling with my shirt, wanting to open the buttons still closing my flannel on my chest. I put my hand on his to stop him, shaken by the exquisite intimacy of this gesture.

"We need to get rid of this, and I have to make a bandage, Y/n" he gently states.

"Okay..." I shrug, grudgingly opening my flannel, and putting an arm on my bra to cover it.

           He keeps his eyes down, and I can't decide if this is politeness or disgust. Wrapping a white bandage around my waist he winces.

"Tell me if it is too tight" he asks, his eyes still avoiding to look up.

"I'm okay."

           He gets up and takes a black t-shirt from his bag.

"This is too big for you, it will be more comfortable and not rub the cuts" he states before clumsily putting it over my head, making my hair fall on my face.

An adorable smile appears on his features when I grunt like a child being dressed. He chuckles a little when I push my hair out of my face with both hands.

"I can dress by myself Winchester" I mumble.

"I know sweetheart" he smiles, putting a kiss on my forehead in another chuckle.

My heart drops. He's trying to get back to his old him... Will I be able to do the same ?

 ***

           "How is your stomach, sweetheart ?" Dean says and I take a shaky breath, the nickname taking me by surprise every time.

           Lately, he visibly tries to become my friend again, making jokes, mocking Sam to make me smile, to call our complicity.

"It's healing, I took off most of the stitches this morning, the inflammation is gone" I shrug, taking a sip of whiskey.

Dean searches my eyes for a second, he often does it too lately... Like he was trying to talk to me. But I never give him time, leaving or talking about anything else. I just really can't bare him telling me how sorry he is again.

           The memory of him is burned in my mind, and when I dream of him, I wake up both  soaked between my legs and shaking with pain, unable to bear the craving... So hearing him say it was the bigger mistake in his life, hearing him say he should have left me go home with that bartender... Or hearing all the things I haven't even thought of yet... What ? Maybe he fucked me just to do me a favor, seeing how desperate I was...

My brain comes up with new ways of torturing me every day.

           So even if I'm becoming good at faking I'm just the old me again, the new me, the one who's heart is still in that alley, can't take much more.

"How can you eat that much chocolate, Y/n" Sam says, closing his laptop, when I put an umpteenth chocolate paper on the library table.

"Shut up Sammy" I say with my mouth full.

"Yep... two Deans" he chuckles.

           I swallow hard. Here comes the you're not a true girl, more like our buddy or brother kind of comments again. Before I fell for Dean, I didn't care, it was pleasant even, knowing that they saw me as a close friend ; but right now, it makes me put the chocolate bar I was about to eat down, and clear my voice to push the fragment of my heart that is stuck there.

"Leave her be" Dean grunts. "She's way cuter than me."

I look up and meet a wink, but my attempt to smile dies before it can reach my lips.

"Yeah... not just cuter" Sam shakes his head. "I'm out, I want to go running early tomorrow. 'Night guys."

Guys.

           I fall silent, licking my lips to erase the eventual evidence of my greed. I have to find a way to leave without being too obvious. I don't want to be left alone with Dean.

"You don't have to go..." Dean sighs and I realize I was staring at the exists.

"I know" I shrug.

"Yeah..." he takes a sip of his glass.

About a thousand mystery expressions cross his face, his eyes are dark and tired. Did he lose weight ?

"Whiskey Poker ?" he suddenly grins, hiding everything else behind the light of his radiant smile.

I hesitate. What do I want the most ? Running away ? Or fixing us ? His eyes shine with something that strangely looks like hope. What if he wanted our friendship back as much as I do ? His smile enlighten the room warming me and, despite how shattered it is, my heart can't resolve to disappoint him.

"If you want."

             Dean Winchester is way too good at hiding what he thinks, that's frightening. Bluff has no secret for him, and each time I think I can see his little game, he surprises me.

"You drink two glasses sweetheart" he smiles, pouring two very short shots of whiskey in the little glasses he bought just for this game long ago.

           I only managed to make him drink once in an hour of game, but, while he makes me lose my sobriety, his shot glasses empty in front of him, he keeps sipping at his regular whiskey glass.

"Okay I need to stop drinking" I grunt rubbing my eyes after the first shot, pushing the second toward him.

He drinks it and chuckles. I'm not drunk, but I'm close to it, and I can't afford to let my guard down totally. I'm way too sad inside, I don't want it to show.

"I'm so good at poker" he grins proudly.

"Yeah you're good at pretending" I snap before I can stop myself.

His grin fades and he looks down. For some reason, that hurt him more than it was supposed to.

           I put my face in my hands, unable, with alcohol and sadness, to hide my immediate reaction of regret. That's when I hear his chair, he gets up, and when I push my palm down again, he's squatting next to me.

"Let me see the stitches" he says with a kind look.

"I told you it's fine."

"Y/n" he just murmurs my name, bringing these fucking butterflies to my stomach.

I lift my t-shirt just a little, revealing my skin, free of its bandage. His thumb comes grazing next to the point where the cut was the deepest, where the sutures still hold me together.  There will be more scars, but why should I care ?

           The intoxicating smell of his hair reaches my face. I take advantage of the opportunity that he's examining my healing wounds to stare closely. His skin is like a galaxy of little perfect imperfections, freckles, scars ; he has them on his knuckles too. My love is so loud in my head, I’m afraid he could hear it.

           I had him inside me, I had his lips on mine, I had his marks on me. Now he's just there, a few inches from my face, just a little lower, and I find him intimidating.

"I'm glad those stitches are not too bad, I would have hated myself to damage you more than the werewolf" he smiles and looks up at me.

He's so close now. My eyes roam his face.

"I told you I was okay..." I try to groan, but my tone is weak and a little pleading.

"Maybe… I just wanted to come close" he states.

And something totally unexpected happens...

           He smiles to me. But not that usual friendly smile, not the grin he has when he's proud of a joke too, this is not a reassuring smile, or a comforting one... This is the wrinkled sweet eyes with his head slightly bending on the side.

His flirty smile.

           I'm confused, staring right in his bright green eyes, wondering why this, why now. I'm wearing my old Jurassic Park t-shirt, the one with the crackled logo on the dark grey fabric that was originally black. My hair is falling everywhere and I'm wearing no makeup at all...

           His lips come up slowly to meet mine. And my mind stops.

           One of his so strong hands pushes a strand of hair out of my face to put it behind my ear, and his lips slightly part to catch mine. The instant the pillow flesh of his delicious lips touch mine, a tsunami of emotions drown me.

"Dean..." I manage to say against his mouth, between a warning and a plea.

He breaks the kiss I never gave back and lower his gaze.

"I'm sorry" he whispers.

Getting up, he looks suddenly so tall, his shadow crushing me, throwing me to the darkness again. I can't read his tone, I'm shaking.

"Leave everything like that, I'll clean up, okay ?" he grunts gesturing toward the table. "Have good night sweetheart."

           He just leaves. And I'm so cold...

 ***

           I cleaned up anyway.

           Then, my mind going a thousand miles, I cleaned up the whole kitchen. When there was nothing left to do, I went to my room and cried. Again.

I cuddled one of Dean’s bottle and cried.

I danced with myself and cried.

I spent the whole night trying on clothes I won't ever wear again, just to look at the mirror and wonder what the hell Dean wants… And cried.

Pathetic.

           And came THE dress. I put it on but could never close the zipper completely, so I found that damn girdle, and crushed my ribs again.

           The fucking dreadful pain of it made me stop crying, finally. Like it was holding together me in a way, cutting my breath but keeping me straight. And I'm pretty sure some of my stitches broke under it.

           Eating chocolate wearing this even made me smile.

"Fuck you Dean Winchester" I snapped at the mirror with my mouth full, and still dressed like a lady, I lifted my two middle fingers at myself. "Fuck you !"

           Then I sat on the floor, not sure I would be able to get up again because of that stupid instrument of torture digging in my skin with a special cruelty to my wounds.

           I was feeling dizzy, maybe because of the alcohol, maybe because of the lack of oxygen, maybe it was the pain... But it could also be Dean. My finger grazing my lips, I was totally high on him.

 ***

           I have no idea if I fell asleep or fainted, but waking up on the floor, my back against the door, with that damn girdle pressing so hard on my cuts, is one of the most painful things I have ever done.

           I groan and crawl to lean on my bed, trying to reach the zip with shaking fingers. When I open the tight cage around my waist, a loud painful inhale escapes me. And my hangover reaches my head like a slap. I whine and check my stomach, its bruised again and two stitches broke, but I won't fix this, a little cleaning will do.

           I throw the dress on the floor and laboriously clamber on the bed in a sight. Dean kissed me. Dean gave me the flirty smile, the one I always dreamed of.

Was he that drunk ? I'm too sore and sad to think of this just now, so I open my laptop, and put on some Dr Sexy episodes... I hate that TV show, it's cheesy and inaccurate, but it reminds me of good memories with my best friend...

           After the first episode opening credits, I’m crying again, wondering how many tears that stupid body can hold… But maybe it comes from the soul. Maybe it will never stop.

             One entire season of Dr Sexy loosing patients in appendix removals, but being able to make a heart transplant in a plane about to crash while piloting it with his ex-wife lecturing him...

But all I remember is my fearless hunter wiggling at how nervous he was that the plane would actually crash, stuffing his face with popcorns, sitting with his legs crossed like a kid. And a billionth tear is shed.

             A knock on the door, then nothing. I wipe my face in the sheets. Sighing, I yell to come in, pressing pause on my laptop. Sam’s head shyly appears.

“Hey” he says, rolling his eyes at the chocolate bar paper everywhere.

But he sees the mess in my room and frowns.

“What Sammy ?” I grunt, finding the piece of brownie I have been missing on my arm.

“Dean made burgers… And… there is a hunt, but… if you don’t want to come with your fresh wound…”

“Fuck yeah” I cut him. “I really need to kill something. And my wound is not that fresh Sammy.”

I get up and stretch in a groan.

“Eat without me guys, I’m not hungry. I’m going to take a shower and after that, you tell me about this hunt.”

***

           I enter the kitchen scratching my healing belly through the worn-out Supernatural t-shirt I'm wearing and frown when I touch the bruises there. I found this t-shirt at a Supernatural convention one day. It's absolutely awful : Sam and Dean are drawn on it, Sam looks like a lame boys band playboy with blond hair, and Dean is a mix between a plumber and an ex military redneck. No green eyes beauty, no plumb lips, freckles or dimples... They hate it, I love it.

           There are two plates on the table.

"Here you are" Dean says, appearing next to me, making me jump a little.

I don't want to be alone with him and miss him like crazy at the same time... He’s wearing that red and black flannel I used to steal all the time.

"Where is Sam ?" I ask, trying to look unimpressed and steely.

"Oh come on Y/n ! That shirt is so ugly !" he groans frustrated, stealing a corner smile from me. "Look at that face I have ! I wouldn't even lend Baby to that dude !"

"But Deanie, I'm a fan of that book series" I mock. "I wish I could meet the real Winchester brothers to tell them how brave they are !" I flutter eyelashes, trying to hide my actual limitless admiration.

He laughs, fully, his whole beautiful upper body going back.

"You know you can tell me sweetheart, how much you adore me..." he grins.

"I like Sam most" I shrug to wipe away whet he just said with words.

"Sam ?"

A hint of hesitation crosses his face, then something that looks like anger but not really either. He clenches his jaw and look me from head to toes.

"What ?" I say with a little more anger than I intended to.

"Is it for Sam that you started pimping yourself ?"

My breath got stuck in my throat, and I feel a hideous torsion in my guts.

"Why don't you go play marbles on the highway ?" I snap with my bitch face on despite my will not to show how hurt I am.

I often used to say things like this for fun, but we both are very aware I'm not laughing right now.

"Y/n..." he starts but I ignore him, opening the fridge. "I cooked" he sighs. "I waited for you to eat... Please."

I turn to look at him, trying to understand why this sudden plea, but nothing is readable on his face now. I sit in front of one of the plates and Dean hurries to give me what he cooked like he was scared I could disappear. I look at the burger and frown.

"I can make something else if you want" he says almost shyly.

"No. Thank you" I answer, taking a small bite of the way too big sandwich.

           Dean doesn't talk. During the five minutes it takes for him to totally clean his plate and finish mine after that, he doesn't say a word.

"Y/n" he finally groans when I take his plate to wash it with mine.

I don't answer and put my hands under the hot spray.

"Listen... You're my best friend... Talk to me" he tries again.

This is it. My blood seems to leave my body.

This is the moment he sends me six feet under.

"About what ?" I shrug.

"Did I hurt you ?" he says lower and I feel the tears threatening to betray me again.

He was rough that night, but I loved every second of it. I loved it because I love him and because his body language was more passionate than hungry, and there was nothing selfish in what he did with me. That's how I felt it. But I was wrong. And now his only concern is having hurt my body, when he shattered my soul.

I shake my head no, unable to form words at the moment. My Dean and I are not natural anymore, our friendship is damaged. I will probably forgive him quickly, because of how much I love him, but forgive myself...

"I'm sorry" he sighs, making the crumbs of my heart fall on my stomach.

That damn sentence.

I swallow hard to make the tears fall inside of my throat, and not on my face, but when his palm lands on my shoulder, one of the drops crushes heavily on my hands and I lean on the sink, my knees suddenly painfully weak. While I was cherishing each and every sign that night actually existed, he must have been tormented by regret, maybe disgust. That kills me and nausea pierces my stomach brutally, I feel like a wasp was stuck in my throat.

"I'm really sorry Y/n..." he insists.

"No. I am Dean" I snap, clenching my jaw, my back still on him. "I put on a slutty dress, seduced you and now you regret it. It was low of me, I… It’s past, let’s just not talk about it… Please."

Gathering my courage, I turn to meet his glare and he looks shocked. Wiping my tears with the back of my hand, I try to leave but Dean takes a side step to block me.

"Seduced me ?"

"Let me go..." I sigh, holding back a sob.

"No !" He suddenly raises his voice. "Y/n ! I know I... I shouldn't have... But what you wear is no-… Listen, What happened to you ? I want my Y/n back !"

I burst in tears.

His Y/n… What does that even mean ?

"Your Y/n... Dean, I'm going to become exactly like I was, just..." my voice is strangled. "Give me time to find myself again... A-And stop apologizing for that n-night."

           With a fast and firm hand, he grabs my neck and pulls me to him, crushing his mouth on mine again. His plumb lips claiming mine with what could look like passion if I didn't know better. I close my eyes, like I got another shot of the most powerful drug in the world.

He did lose weight.

           Why is he doing that ? Tears soak my face and my lungs seem to be crushed by the brutal jolts of my heart. This is so unfair.

           I violently push him and my palm collides with his handsome face in a fast slap, powered by the intense pain in my chest. He looks at me with now wet eyes, glowing like emerald and I hold my breath, hitting Dean was never something I thought I would do, because I never wanted to hurt him, but also because it kind of feels like poking a lion.

           He takes a pause and licks he lips.

“I found the number of that bartender, Y/n” he just states, swallowing hard, his pupils dilated like during hunts, in the face of danger.

I still don’t dare moving.

He looks down and takes one of those shaking slow breaths- with his tongue on his lower lip- he takes before becoming cold when he’s hurt. I have seen that a few times with Sam, Castiel, even with his mother. But he never had it with me, things were always easy between Dean and I.

“He seems like a good guy.”

“What are you fucking talking about Dean ?” I say raising my hands in confusion on the side before letting them fall again on my thighs.

“You wanted a guy sweetheart…”

“A guy…” I exhale.

“Didn’t you ? I mean… Avoiding me… us, wearing those clothes, makeup… This g-guy” he stammers. “He plays music and is kind to his mother…”

I search his impossibly green eyes, unable to form a sentence. I can feel how red the contours of my eyes are, burning, big round tears rolling under my chin.

“Why are you crying sweetheart ?” He almost whines. “Talk to me… Right now it looks like you hate me” his voice is low. “Y-you hating me is…”

“I don’t… I don’t hate you Dean.”

I love you.

“Oh really ? Y/n… You… Trying to bring a little spangle in this dark f…” his voice breaks making the rest of my heart fall on my lower stomach in a breaking din. “A-and instead of letting you finally meet a nice guy… I-I…” two clearly defined lines of tears now cut his cheeks. “I ruin that because of j-jealousy. Fucking you in a parking lot like it d-didn’t mean anything…”

“Dean ?” I whisper, confused and lost.

But he doesn’t say anything for a few moments, his hands shaking. What is he trying to say ? Was he jealous of the attention I gave another man ? Why ? Was he hurt that his best friend wanted to spend time on her own ?

           I can't help but see this seducing smile in my head from yesterday, can he fake it ? God I want him to hold me so much, I need him to hold me.

“I l… like the old you better but” a sad smile appears on his face. “I will never stand in your way again sweetheart.” His hand reaches my face and pushes a strand of hair off of my forehead. “You deserve…”

“I did that for you Dean.”

My eyes widen at my own words. My love, my hidden adoration on full display in every one of my words. His hand stops on my face and he frowns.

"Wh-what do you mean, sweetheart ?" he searches my eyes intensely.

I burst in tears, my body shaken by sobs and my tears soaking his hands still resting on my cheeks.

"I..." I try to find my voice but it's strangled by grief and panic. "I j-just wanted you to notice me..."

Dean's face becomes a shade paler and I close my eyes to spare myself of the rejection I will read on it.

"Notice you ? Open your eyes sweetheart..."

I do. His palms are now holding my face completely, because if he wouldn't, my head would fall on his chest.

"N-Notice you Y/n ? How can you think I didn't notice you ?" he gasps.

I can’t answer.

“Y/n… All I see is you. All the time.”

I shake my head, trying to run away, but his powerful hands grab my shoulders.

“Sweetheart… I spend my life looking at you. Do you think I need you to wear pink to see your smile ?”

“Stop Dean” I whisper.

“Y/n, did you… Did you do all this because of me ? Not eating ?...”

“YES DEAN ! PATHETIC I KNOW !” I free my arm. “I’m so desperately in love with you that I would have traded my heart and soul if it was possible !”

“Don’t…” he whines.

He pushes me back and shakes his head, tears still on his face. His breathing becomes short, like he was strangled by emotions.

“Don’t” he pleads, bending to graze my lips. “Please Y/n… Don’t change anything.”

He grabs my face and kisses my tears like he wanted to drink it.

“I… The girls you like…” I try to avoid his kiss, lost in confusion.

“Sweetheart, you’re so wrong” he says, now almost against my lips.

In my head, I can see myself push him, I can see myself hit him, my fists trying to struggle against his chest but my body just doesn’t respond.

“I just wanted to become that girl…” I sob and he kisses my tears again.

“What girl ?” he asks, pushing his large body against me, caging me against the world.

I shake but moan in sobs, my weak hands reaching for his chest with the same fear I would have putting it in fire.

“The girl you notice…” my voice is still strangled by pain. “The beautiful girl you smile at with that flirty smile, Dean… The girl you kiss, the one you w-want, the one you fuck” I sob.

“You’re the girl I tell everything, you’re the girl I run to when I have a nightmare…” he touches my lips with his once, without really putting a kiss there. “You’re the girl I want to spend my nights with even when I have been with you all day…” his lips catch mine so slowly, making me taste the salt on it. “You’re the girl that makes me go swimming at night, that made me celebrate Christmas…” he kisses me again. “You’re the girl I think of when I have another in my arms, in my bed…” I gasp but he crushes his lips on mine, taking my face with two hands, kissing me deep and using his whole body to make me feel it, his hips rolling in an attempt to get closer than possible. “Sweetheart, you’re the girl I love.”

           Is it possible that a shattered heart heals with words ?

           My hands reach for his hair and his breathing fasten. I can feel the tears on my face, still falling, soaking his perfect face. I want him so bad… My own hips roll and I lift one of my leg one his side, spreading it a little for him.

           He breaks the kiss.

“Not like that… Not again.”

I look down and feel the world crash. Regret again ? Why say all those things ? Lies this big ? Dean would never…

“Okay, I get it Dean…”

“No you don’t, Love…” his lips claim mine again. “I wanted you for so long and…”

I moan in the kiss, my heart burning with a fire so delicious ; my fingers dare to pass the hem of his shirt to touch his firm stomach.

“It was not right…” he whines, like he was trying to resist his own body.

His skin is so soft and the muscles of his waist are moving so deliciously to thrust against me, I scratch it a little.

“Y/n, baby…” he moans, making me ruin my own panties. “Let me take you to my room this time… Please.”

I smile in the kiss and nod, but the new nicknames made me dizzy. I push his shirt up, craving to touch the skin I never did. Bending I kiss him, and goosebumps spread from his nostril. He grunts and puts his head back a little, grabbing the back of my hair to encourage my passionate kisses and nips at the skin of his chest, of his stomach.

           When I lick his left nipple, he gasps and lets go of my head to open his belt.

“I need you” he groans. “Y/n… I need to take you to my room… Make love to you like you deserve…”

I nod again, but push my sweatpants and panties down, kicking it when it reaches my feet.                                                                                    

“If someone comes around” he pants.

I don’t answer, sucking a possessive hickey on his neck.

           His lips attack my jaw, and linger on my throat.

“You don’t need makeup…” he moans, his hands coming under my shirt to caress my waist, my stomach, my ribs, and massage my boobs, like he was craving even more than me. “And you don’t need that cage underwear that feels like hard plastic to the touch… You’re… fuck.”

I moan when the shiver roams his body, making his cock twitch. Is it possible that I have so much effect on him ?

           His hands are eager, and the feel of them, huge, powerful, hungry on my bare skin is so overwhelming I think that I could come if he keeps devouring me with those fingers. The self-hate is silent for now, because my Dean wants me, all of me.

           He’s everywhere, lips, teeth, tongue, hands, and his hips pressing his boxer covered erection between my legs. My own juice tickling my inner thighs.

“We have to go to my bedroom” he sighs.

Once again… I nod, trying to push his boxer down with shaky hands.

“Dean…” I plea. “Please… I need…” but he grabs my thighs to carry me and a friction of his hard cock through my naked folds makes me gasp.

My head loudly fall back on the wall behind. I wrap my legs around him like it was their natural place.

“What do you need ?” he moans, rubbing his cock on my entrance and clit again, soaking the fabric.

“Your sk-skin… I want to feel you” I manage to stammer.

He bites my throat and mutters a yes, under his breath.

           Pushing his flannel down quickly, he thrusts once more, and I can feel how close I already am. He grabs the collar of his shirt in his back and gives me what I need : His body.

           I moan and kiss his collarbones, my hands trying to reach every inch of his back and chest at the same time feeling his muscles, his scars, his sweat. Everything.

“I love you…” escapes my lips.

“God Y/n… We need to go to bed.”

“Yes…” I moan, still trying to push his boxers down.

But his hand pushes hard on one of my bruises and I wince. He notices it and takes my shirt off above my head.

“God Y/n…” he groans, seeing the bruises on my ribs.

“Girdle.”

“Never do that to yourself again” he tries to sound firm but with my folds caging his cock between me and himself, he moans again. “Never, Sweetheart… Promise.”

After so many tries, the rubber band of his underwear rolls down, freeing his hard length.

“I promise. I love you” I whisper in his neck.

“I can’t take you like that baby… I need to take you to… Fuck…” he tries but when his hips keep thrusting despite his will, the head of his cock brushes my entrance to go up and crush my clit. My walls clench around nothing and I can feel the coil ready to break. Each friction on the good spots making my thighs jerk.

He groans.

“Dean…” I moan lost in a new kind of pleasure. “Dean…”

I grab his cock, making him gasp, and guides it to my entrance.

“I want to take you to my room” he whispers but I can tell his thoughts are lost.

           He pushes in anyway, stretching me to the brim, twitching hard, his nails digging my thighs. Each inch sends me higher, his cock throbbing like it was swallowing… And when his palms powerfully bring me to him, and he hits my cervix, the coil explodes.

           I come right away, tugging at his hair in strangled gasps, shaking and clenching around him like crazy.

“Y/N !” he screams, letting go of one of my thighs to hold on to the wall.

His body shakes and his cock twitches violently. Biting my neck like he was holding me with his mouth, he thrusts hard three times, prolonging my mind-blowing orgasm. And he comes already. Ropes of cum filling me in a delicious tickle so deep in my core.

           I grab his head to make him look at me, his sweaty face glowing with bliss, still confused by how quick it was. He claims my mouth slowly and his tongue tastes just like love.

“I… I’m sorry” I smile in the kiss. “I couldn’t last.”

“God sweetheart, that’s the hottest thing I ever experienced…” he pants. “The way you come… Fuck…”

           An old fear suddenly hits me and I search his face to find regret in it, my legs still around his waist, holding for dear life with him still buried inside of me.

“I’m sorry Y/n” he sighs and my heart drops. “For… Leaving, I… I was so mad at myself.”

“Mad ?” I put my forehead on his.

“I resisted all this time… Just to give up on jealousy” he confesses, his hot breath on my face.

“Resist…” I murmur.

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Y/n… More than what I deserve… Risking that…”

“I love you” I repeat in a held back sob.

“I really should take you to my room…” he smiles lazily.

 *** 

           That girl.

That girl comes out of the diner kitchen, and the second her eyes land on Dean, something changes. I recognize everything now, her back straighten a little and she pulls her stomach in slightly.

           He has this effect on a lot of women.

           She’s really pretty, with silky hair and painted nails. Her waist is thin and her cleavage is both elegant and catchy. But I don’t really care now.

           Outside, the storm rages, summer rain reminding us of the forces of nature during a season so clement, after days of sun. I look out the window, the street lamps multiplied in the thousands drops of water on the glass, like cheap little stars.

           The diner is empty at that time of the night, no one went out under that weather to buy food. But Dean and I, we were already soaked.

“What can I get you ?” the girl smiles wide.

“Two bacon cheese burgers, please” I answer.

Her face searches Dean’s but she finds nothing, because my man is just thinking of how hungry he is, I can hear his stomach rumble. She smiles anyway, her perfect white teeth screaming for attention but Dean wraps his arm around my shoulder.

“Hey baby… You are going to be cold” he mutters.

           I smile and put my head on his shoulder and palm on his stomach. The girl just leaves in a sigh. He still smells like chlorine a little, his wet hair dripping on his neck. Sun made his freckles a shade darker, beautiful. I kiss the scruff on the sharp line of his jaw.

           Our clothes are completely soaked, that’s what you get jumping in a motel swimming pool at midnight, searching coolness after making love over and over again in a room with no AC.

           I stroke Dean’s wrist tattoo with my thumb and he smiles at me, kissing my nose. I have no desire to become that girl anymore. That girl will never know how sweet Dean is, how unconditionally he loves. She will never see him cry, laugh with his whole body. She will never know how he looks when he’s nervous about Dr Sexy’s season final, how he can switch from the biggest dork to the fiercer hunter. She won’t even know who he is, hero, fighter, lover… Mine.

______________________________

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Tags are open (Some tags don’t work even if I tried everything, I’m sorry)

[girlpornparadise]

The Caged Bird Moans (pt 1)

Pairing: Diego Jimenez/f!Reader (Power - Starz)

Word Count: ~2600

Warnings:  It's a bit Stockholm syndromey, but that's not a real thing anyway (look it up). Not exactly non-con, but it skirts the idea, so if power disparities aren't your jam, please move along. It just real dirty. SMUT!

Personal ramble: Would anyone actually react like this to the situation I've set forth? No. But just as the pizza guy is never hot and doesn't offer you his extra sausage, this is porn people! So suspend your disbelief and don't hate on me for my bullsh*t.

I also wrote all this nonsense a week ago before I read anything from the lovely @1zashreena1 , @heresathreebee or @nicke0115 so sorry if it looks similar, I swear it's a coincidence.

"Ouch", you think to yourself but instead swallow the pain. Your arm hurts under the firm grasp of the thug dragging you from the elevator into the spacious penthouse.

"Be careful with that." Says a commanding voice from across the room.

The grip loosens, but he's still using your momentum to force you forward. You stumble, unsure of just how much danger you are in.

As you take in your surroundings the owner of the voice turns around and approaches you. He looks you up and down, examining you like a prize he had won.

"We can't afford to damage her." He states plainly, looking at the man still holding you in place.

As he examines you, you examine him right back. Whereas he is doing it in an obvious way, head nodding to rake his eyes over you, you move your eyes only, unable to control your body in this moment. You follow the carefully polished boots up past the fitted black jeans to the black buttoned up shirt with the slight sheen to it, that accentuates his frame. Everything is obviously expensive and very deliberately chosen. As your eyes settle on his face, a recognization dawns on you. Diego Jimenez. One of the heads of the Jiminez cartel. His reputation was well known to you. An unstable, merciless man whose penchant for partying made him a big name in certain circles. You were scared before, but now your body goes rigid with fear and your gaze hits the floor with force.

Though you're no longer looking at him directly you can sense his smugness and satisfaction at knowing you are now showing the appropriate amount of fear for the situation you're in. Maybe it's your hind brain telling you you are in the presence of an apex predator. Maybe it was the clipped snort he let out, tinged with amusement as he nodded with approval.

After what feels like an eternity, but was probably mere seconds, he speaks again.

"Take her to the guest room." He orders the man still firmly gripping your arm. "Lock this little bird in her cage."

Dragging you again, this time down the hall, Diego's orders are followed to completion. You are practically thrown into the room as the door slams shut behind you.

You stumble, catching yourself on the bed. You collapse onto it as tears prick your eyes and subsequently fall down your cheeks. You begin to sob, but muffle it in the covers, assuming someone is standing guard outside and not wanting to seem even weaker in such an intense situation. But the tears flow freely as the shock of what's happened slowly wears off and you begin to process the details of your abduction.

You hadn't grown up in this world, though your ties to it were strong. You were part of the Bennet family, a rival cartel, headed by your grandfather. He insisted you grow up distanced from this world. A world of violence and cruelty. A world of drugs and guns and transactions ending in death. Based on your current reaction, you couldn't help but think maybe it was because you're so weak. Both you and he knew it was true, you were too soft to be a part of the business, too kind to do what would be required of you. So he kept you away, from his city and his dealings and all of the darkness that came with it.

You were in town for a rare family visit when you were taken without warning, snatched from the street at gunpoint. They were able to do it without drawing attention, entirely professional, and you complied with their every demand as a sense of terror ripped through you.

And now here you were, trapped by a barbarous stranger who could end your life at any moment without a second thought.

As you wore yourself out from crying, you began to take in the room, determined to get your bearings. It was sparsely decorated, obviously the work of a man unattached. It was also immaculately clean, obviously the work of his maid. As your breathing slows and your senses sharpen, you become aware that the comforter you are still on top of is plush and expensive, like the kind found at a swanky hotel.

Curiosity returning with your senses, you walk over to the window that stretches from floor to ceiling and take in the impressive view of the city. If the long elevator ride weren't a clear enough indicator, the view tells you that you are in the penthouse of a very upscale building.

Next to the window is a large bathroom and you walk in. You splash cold water on your face and dry it on one of the plush towels. You can't help be momentarily amused by how well stocked the room is with soaps and lotions. There were definitely worse places to be trapped. Was this the definition of a gilded cage?

As you settle down, you take off your shoes and sit back down on the bed. You're exhausted to your core, and you sink into the mattress, wanting to disappear. You want to keep your wits about you, alert and on guard, but instead the stress combined with the late hour forces you to sleep.

You are woken up abruptly the following morning when the door swings open and you are literally dragged out of bed by the same man as yesterday. 

You're a bleary eyed, rumpled mess and the same fear and pain shoot through you as you remember where you are and how you got there. Your breathing is shallow as you try not to panic.

You've been dragged before Diego who is standing imposingly before you, hands clasped in front of him, chin slightly upward so he can look down his nose at you.

He examines you once more and you can tell he's disgusted by what he sees.

"Get our guest something to wear." He barks. "And get her something to eat. We can't bargain if she's broken."

As he turns away from you to resume whatever you interrupted, you catch the flash of the gun in his waistband and the fear settles once again in the pit of your stomach.

You are escorted back to the room forcefully and your mind is racing. You know everyone who comes through the penthouse is armed to the teeth and there's no chance of escape. You're not just weak, you're helpless. You assume you're being held for some kind of ransom, probably territory or resources as opposed to money, and you silently pray that a deal for your release is struck quickly so this nightmare can be over.

Soon after, the door opens and a housekeeper enters carrying a couple of bags of clothes. She doesn't look you in the eye and you wouldn't know what to say to her anyway. 

Once she has left, you rummage through the clothes. There's nothing there you'd pick for yourself, but you settle on a white fitted t-shirt and jeans. You carry them with you into the bathroom along with a handful of drugstore makeup you find in the bottom of the bag.

You look at yourself in the mirror and the reason for Diego's revulsion becomes clear. Your clothes are wrinkled and creased and your mascara is smudged under your eyes. You lock the bathroom door behind you, strip down and take a shower. The running water calms you and once you finish you get dressed and approximate your normal makeup routine with what you have. If you're going to put on a brave front, you need to be as put together as possible.

When you emerge from the bathroom a tray of breakfast is waiting on the nightstand next to the bed. Eggs sunny side up and toast, simple and straightforward. You devour it greedily since you haven't eaten since lunch yesterday.

The day passes with 2 more meals brought to you by the same housekeeper at the appropriate intervals. In the absence of your phone, you distract yourself with mindless TV on the rather large set opposite the bed. You don't take in much as you think about your predicament and then try to force those thoughts of the worst case scenario from your mind.

Your sleep that night is restless.

You are brought before Diego once again in the morning, shortly after you wake. 

This time you are allowed to walk under your own power, though your legs feel wobbly and your feet unsure as you approach him.

You're wearing a cotton t-shirt and shorts,  the closest thing you could find to pajamas. As he looks at you, you become painfully aware that you're not wearing underwear, his eyes seeming to stop at all the places where it should be.

You are at least able to look at him and take in more this time. He's clad in a similar black button up shirt and black jeans as yesterday, a uniform of sorts to convey his status. His hair is neatly cut and accentuates his angles, sharp jaw and well placed cheekbones. His greying facial hair gives him some earned distinction and his expression is hard and deliberate to elicit a specific reaction of fear. Through the careful tailoring of his shirt you can see that his body is sturdy and muscular. His tense posture using his frame to his advantage, making him seem larger than he actually is. You know to fear him, but he may be the most attractive man you've ever seen in real life.

He obviously cultivates an aura of power, and you can't help but be drawn to him as an Alpha Male. As you steel yourself, you dare to look him in the eyes. His eyes are cold but impossibly magnetic and you can't look away. He's looking back at you now, into you. Your heart forgets how to beat in rhythm and you swallow thickly.

He sees your fear and is clearly amused by it.

"Breakfast will be ready soon. You should go take a shower." He says, his lips curling upwards. 

"I, I was going to." you stammer.

"Good girl." It comes out as almost a purr and sends a shiver down your spine.

This time it's Diego, not his associate who accompanies you back to the bedroom. His hand is hovering above the small of your back, ushering you forward while maintaining a small distance. You enter the room and the lock clicks behind you.

You turn to see that he's still in the room and with his gaze set upon you, you begin to back away towards the bathroom,  afraid to turn your back on him. This was clearly his intended effect.

You expect him to leave, but he's doing the opposite. He is stalking forward. Your heart is pounding out of your chest and your uneven breathing becomes gulping for air.

As he closes the gap between your bodies, he repeats his suggestion. "You should go take a shower." It's not a suggestion though, it's a command.

He leans in. "Go on." His lips are close enough to your ear that his breath catches in your hair.

His thick body is now urging you through the bathroom doorway by its approach. You back through it, still transfixed by his gaze. 

You glance side eyed to your left at the shower that takes up the far wall. It's one of those large walk-in showers with a stone floor and a rain showerhead. It suddenly seems less like a shower and feels more like a trap about to spring shut.

"Take off your clothes." He says. He's not asking.

You gulp, your eyes have gone wide at the demand.

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes." He repeats in a tone that is both amused and losing patience. He raises his eyebrows slightly as he says it.

You look away, ashamed, and slowly and nervously acquiesce. You stand before him completely naked and try to avert your gaze. You are drawing your body inward, trying to conceal yourself in any way you can.

"Turn on the water." he says with his wicked smile widening.

You turn on the shower and wait for it to warm. It dawns on you that there's no shower curtain to protect you or glass wall to hide behind. You are fully exposed and will remain so.

You step under the water, unsure of what to do next. You'd obviously showered hundreds of times, but this wasn't a shower. It was a show.

"Wash yourself." His voice is quieter, more of a harsh whisper.

You grab a washcloth and pump the foaming body wash onto it. You rub it on the back of your neck and slowly work your way down to your shoulders. Your nerves have subsided a little as the water washes over your skin.

He's mesmerized by the motion of your hands and you drag the washcloth across your collarbones and down to your breasts, where you languidly rub them with the cloth as well as your free hand.

Your nipples harden at your own touch. He notices and his tongue drags over his bottom lip. You close your eyes in an attempt to momentarily escape.

When you open your eyes you notice him shift his weight and catch a glimpse of the shift in his muscles under his shirt. You get a rush as you feel the power dynamic shift slightly. You are slow to rub the washcloth down your legs and you arch your back slightly as you bend over, purposely sticking out your ass more than you naturally would. 

His eyes are dark with lust and you can feel the warmth radiating from between your own legs.

"Rub your clit." He says, reclaiming his power.

You look at him with shocked eyes and your eyebrows knit.

"You heard me." he says. "I won't ask again." His head tilting slightly.

You put the washcloth aside and tentatively slide your middle finger between your thighs to your bundle of nerves. You notice how wet you already are and using gentle pressure you begin to rubbing in circles.

You close your eyes and swallow as your walls contract and release. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you're panting. Panting and touching yourself for this fixated man. 

"Cum for me." He demands. "I need to see you cum." 

You think to fake an orgasm. To end this little game he's playing, but it's too late. Your finger presses harder on your clit and you tremble as the real thing rips through you. You close your eyes and cry out with abandon.

When you regain yourself you look at him. You are raw and exposed and at your most vulnerable. His mouth is in a wide smile and his eyes gleam with satisfaction. 

He reaches out to you, towel in hand. You steady yourself, turn off the water, and take the towel from him. You wrap it around yourself, suddenly panged with shame at how readily you revealed your most intimate self to this menacing stranger. Your posture closes, and reflects your return to shyness.

"Good girl." He says, and you feel the words like honey dripping in your ears.

He turns and leaves, his confident stride drawing your attention to how his jeans hug his perfect behind. 

You dry yourself off and as you get to your inner thighs you're reminded of how wet you are. How wet you are for him. You want to blame the shower, but you know the truth. You're spellbound by this man, and god are you in trouble.

[cinnatales]

Exposure Ch. 1

Summary: Beaten down detective Sebastian Castellanos is at the end of his rope. The ruins of his family have left him in shambles, and only the comfort of a glass of whiskey can make the days more bearable. Though, a deadly encounter in the middle of the night marks new beginnings, dragging him further down into the case on Krimson City’s serial killer.  

With headless victims turning up frequently, and dead ends that mark a mastermind of a murderer, Sebastian is challenged left and right with this case. As he’s thrown into obsession, and the killer’s interest in him grows sicker and sicker, one man seems to tie it all together: an infamous artist known as Stefano Valentini.  

He just might be the key to solving this case. 

______________________________________________________________

It’s a lonely night in Krimson City, a sliver of the moon the only beacon of light piercing through the inky depths of the sky. Sebastian’s boots clack softly against concrete, his hands stuffed within the depths of his worn trench coat as he wanders the streets. He travels the roads currently untouched by crowds and traffic, devoid of the usual bustling of life within the hours of daylight. It leaves the detective alone with his thoughts, with memories and reminiscing.

Of better times, of Myra’s goodbye letter, of Lily’s screams in his nightmares.

He’s disappointed in himself, disappointed that he only finds sleep at the bottom of an empty bottle nowadays, but he cannot handle being left alone with memories of them. Without it, without a distraction, he’d lie awake in bed for hours, sometimes staring up at the ceiling or the far wall, sometimes with his eyes squeezed shut as he tosses and turns. He’s haunted by her face every night, of flesh melting away, of eyes burning red, of charcoal stained hands gripping at his shoulders.  

Always too late.

He huffs out a shaky breath, steps nearly faltering. God, he needs a drink, just a little farther and he’ll be at the downtown-

Click.

Brown hues lift at the soft shutter through the air, head raising as he inspects his surroundings. He’s almost believing it’s his imagination, a figment of his sleep deprived mind when-

Click.

He hears it again. A flash of white light accompanies it, spilling out from a shrouded alleyway. Sebastian’s feet move on their own accord, dragging him towards the source like a moth drawn to a flame. Who the hell is taking pictures at this hour? And within an alleyway no less?  

That’s when a tang of copper hits his nose, intertwined with the underlying sweet, familiar scent of rot. On instinct, his hand is hovering over his revolver, nerves bristling at attention.

He’s pausing right at the mouth of the alleyway, brows furrowing as he takes a shaky breath through his nose. In one swift motion he’s turning down the corner. What greets him is the carnage of a young woman. A headless corpse lied out across pavement, rivets of red spilling from the juncture of her severed neck, staining her yellow dress. Rose petals decorate her, pale hands clutching at a bouquet, pressing it to her chest. Standing before the flowery slaughter is a man dressed in black, a gloved hand framing his camera as it obscures his face.

The man jerks at the sight of Sebastian, and then there’s a glint of silver, a flick of his wrist. Sebastian is ripping out his revolver, when his left shoulder is suddenly giving out, igniting with a searing pain. His gun clatters to the ground, teeth gritting together as he bites back a cry.

Click.

He’s blinded by the flash of light, forcing his eyes shut as he jerks his arm up in defense. A sadistic chuckle taints the air, before there’s the retreating clacks of dress shoes. He’s blinking several times in desperation, his vision coming back to him right as the maniac’s back disappears behind a corner.

“Stop!” He yells, chasing after him despite the agony coursing through his shoulder, at how it nearly makes his boots drag. When he rounds the corner with shaky breaths, the man is gone.

…

The soft beeps of a heart monitor fill Sebastian’s ears, distracting him from the nurse’s gloved fingers as she checks over the stitches in his shoulder. After a brief moment of poking and prodding, she’s dressing the sutured wound with a soft hum.

“Alright Mr. Castellanos, you should be good to go. Make sure to keep your stitches dry for at least 48 hours, and keep them clean. We wouldn’t want you to end up back in here because of an infection! And please, don’t put any strain on your shoulder.”

The detective simply grunts in acknowledgement, eager to get back on his feet and leave this sterile cage as soon as possible. He never was fond of hospitals and two days was certainly long enough for him.

“Your friend also brought in a change of clothes for you. He’s waiting for you out in the lobby.”

Sebastian waves her off with a tired, “Thanks.” before taking the bundle of folded clothes that is presented to him.  

He’s shuffling off into the bathroom, the door closing behind him with a soft click, ensuring him with a bit of privacy for the time being. His gaze rests upon his reflection, black ringed eyes staring wearily back at him from the mirror. He sheds the hospital gown with careful fingers, revealing the square of white protecting his newly acquired stitches.

The man’s taunting laughter echoes in his ears, the headless body of that poor woman stained behind his eyelids. It was him; he’d recognize that work anywhere, his crimes pasted front right and center upon every newspaper and tabloid. The serial killer plaguing Krimson City.

He had him, he was so close to putting an end to his reign of bloodshed, and yet he failed. If only he had been faster, more prepared, then perhaps that blade wouldn’t have punctured his shoulder and that bastard wouldn’t have gotten away. How the hell did he even do that? Who the hell throws knives with such unnatural precision? The whole thing is downright insane.

And... Why was he taking pictures of the victim?

With a sigh, he’s tugging on his new shirt, wincing ever so slightly when he jostles his shoulder. He better not keep Joseph waiting.

…

Rain drops pelt against the standard issued police car, windshield wipers rapidly whisking droplets away, keeping a clear view of the road as thunder booms overhead. The bitter aroma of coffee wafts through the interior, settling over Sebastian and his partner Joseph. Sebastian’s hands are warmed by the paper cup clasped within them, that heavy fog of weariness beginning to part as caffeine courses through his veins.

He really needed that.

“Hey... Are you doing alright?” Joseph’s voice is... Careful, as if Sebastian is a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at the slightest movement.

He doesn’t blame Joseph for his wary approach, he hasn’t spoken to him properly in weeks aside from work, and frankly, he’s grown used to tight smiles and pitying eyes.

“Besides having to spend two days in a hospital and being knifed by a psychopath? I’m fine. It’s a little difficult to move my shoulder, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” He assures, before taking a long sip from his coffee.

Joseph nods, a small sigh escaping his lips, “I’m glad to hear it.”

They lapse into silence, having Sebastian fidget in his seat, fingers drumming against the paper cup. It’s uncomfortable, the quietness between him and Joseph. It was never like this before.

“Thanks...” Sebastian breaks through suddenly, eyes kept pointedly to the towering buildings drifting by, “I mean it, you didn’t have to do all of this. You really are a life saver.”

There’s no response, and for a moment, Sebastian believes that he won’t be answered at all. That is, until he’s glancing over, catching sight of the small smile brightening his partner’s face. It’s definitely a welcomed sight.

“Yeah... It’s no problem,” Joseph states, pleased and reclining back against the car seat, almost like old times, “I just figured you’d need a little pick me up before you see the chief.”

And as quickly as it comes, the warmth within Sebastian’s chest dispels, his mood souring. He almost scoffs at the mention of the chief, and the fact that he is being called in again. It doesn’t help that Joseph is the one to deliver the news.

“The chief wants to see me? I wonder what I did this time,” He remarks dryly, almost accusingly.

Joseph goes rigid, quickly realizing his mistake, his lips pursing into a thin line, “Sebastian... I-”

“I know, you don’t have to tell me again. It was for my ‘own good’, even if my work remained unaffected.”

Joseph’s hands tighten against the steering wheel, eyes going dark as he grits out, “Has it ever occurred to you that I wasn’t worried about your work? That I was worried about you?”

Sebastian pauses at that, taken aback.

“I still am, you know. I only reported you because... You were falling apart. You quietly sink into a bottle and-”

“Joseph-” He bites out.

“And pretend everything is fine when it isn’t! You were out late that night, you called for help at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. Don’t tell me you were just going out on a ‘nightly stroll’. Can’t you just think about your life for a second?”

“That’s enough!” Sebastian snaps, his hand squeezing around the coffee cup, threatening to crush it into a scalding mess, “I’m not in the mood for a fucking interrogation! It hardly matters. Not when another girl is dead.”

Joseph goes quiet, leaving Sebastian to stew in an uncomfortable silence once more. He’s left glancing over at his partner, and when he does, a lump gathers in his throat. Joseph’s expression is grave, brow creased in defeat.

“Joseph I-”

“Listen. I know it’s none of my business, but... I’m just concerned about you, Seb. That’s all. I just wish you’d talk to me,” Joseph sighs out quietly.

Guilt prickles within Sebastian’s heart. He’s huffing out a shuddering sigh, almost tempted to spill his hardships, about how difficult it is to just… Keep going. But... Joseph doesn’t deserve that, he deserves a solid partner, and Sebastian is only going to weigh him down.  

And so, he’s forcing out, “I’m fine, Joseph.”

Joseph’s mouth opens as if to protest, but nothing comes out. Instead, he’s closing it, giving a curt nod and resigning to the heavy silence.

Mercifully, it doesn’t take too long after that to reach the KCPD. As Joseph pulls the car up into the parking lot, Sebastian takes note of the small gathering that has swarmed in front of the police department. Of course, the press.

“Not even the rain deters them.” Sebastian mutters under his breath.

His partner gives him a sideways glance before he’s exiting the car, Sebastian following suit almost immediately. The downpour soaks into Sebastian’s vest and dress shirt, his bangs falling in front of his eyes as it’s weighed down by water. Cameras flash as the two approach the crowd, microphones being shoved into Sebastian’s face as he’s bombarded by questions.

“Are there any new leads on Krimson City’s serial killer?”

“What can you tell us about the fourth victim?”

He squints against the harsh lights, his face twisting into a grimace as he swallows down a curse. He’s beginning to really hate having his picture taken.

“No comment,” His voice is firm as he attempts to get by them, but they’re ever persistent at blocking his path.

“What does this killer look like?” Another reporter pipes up.

“I couldn’t see his face.” He’s attempting to shove through them once more, but he’s halted by another eager journalist.

“How did you feel when you found that headless body?”

“As any other normal person would feel,” What kind of question is that? It’s getting harder and harder not to tell all of these reporters to fuck off. Why can’t they just leave him alone?

“Why did you let the killer get away?”

Sebastian stiffens as if he’s been socked right in the gut. That particular question stings, like rubbing salt into an open wound, serving as a bitter reminder of what he couldn’t do. It’s not as if he meant to let that bastard go. They hadn’t been there. They don’t know what it was like. God, he’s had enough of these people. Though, right as he’s about to give them a piece of his mind, Joseph steps in.

“That’s enough questions!” His partner intervenes, grabbing Sebastian’s wrist as he pushes through them, “Lock your doors, and don’t go out alone at night. We are going to do everything in our power to catch him.”

More questions are thrown their way, but Joesph and Sebastian manage to fight through and get into the police department at last.

The two breathe out a sigh of relief once they’ve made it in. Sebastian’s shoulders and hair are thoroughly damp. The nurse’s words ring in his head, keep those stitches dry, but he can’t really bring himself to care at the moment. He’s reaching up, fingers brushing through his brown locks in an attempt to dry it. Joseph isn’t in much better shape either, left smoothing out the front of his uniform, before wiping at his glasses. It’s almost a comical sight.

“It looks like I owe you again. I was about to make a fool out of myself.”

Joseph’s head raises at that, “You can thank me by just taking care of yourself.”

Sebastian is silent, busying himself with finishing off the last of his coffee, before tossing the paper cup into the bin. “I do take care of myself.” He mutters at last.

“And how do you define ‘taking care of yourself’?” Joseph asks with a raised brow.

“I’m really not in the mood for this.”

Joseph stares at Sebastian for a long moment, disapproval written all over his down turned lips and steely eyes. Sebastian stares right back, his glare sending a clear message, drop it.

That’s when Joseph breaks eye contact, huffing out a long sigh, “Alright… We can talk about it later. Kidman and I will be waiting in your office once you’re done speaking to the chief. We’ll catch you up on everything that’s happened over the last two days.”

We are not going to have a talk about this later, he almost bites out, but he manages to hold his tongue. Instead, his expression is kept carefully neutral as he simply gives his partner a nod, before parting from his side. Though, even with how annoyed he is, he can’t deny the shame squeezing at his chest.

The precinct is filled with the shrill rings of phone calls, along with the sharp scribbles of pencil to paper and the clacks of keyboards. Sebastian passes by several of his coworkers, either seated at the packed nooks of desks, or hovering around close to their offices. Most give him warm, sympathetic smiles, which he returns with a small nod of his head.  

Hopefully, he doesn’t get another lecture. He can only hope.

The chief's office door stands tall and foreboding, Chief of Police written in black letters against clouded glass. Sebastian sucks in a quiet breath, straightening up before stepping inside. The chief is sat behind his desk, nose buried within a stack of papers, before his gaze lifts at the detective’s entrance. He’s clearing his throat, brows furrowing as his eyes settle on Sebastian.

“Castellanos.” He greets gruffly.

“Chief Perrin.” Sebastian returns, “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, I want to know what the hell happened out there,” The chief gripes, “You couldn’t catch him? Couldn’t even see his face?”

Sebastian sighs, “Look, I’m just as disappointed as you are. It happened so fast-”

“I don’t want any excuses, Castellanos!” The chief's hands are slamming against wood, his papers fluttering against the outburst, “This maniac already has four bodies to his name, and you could’ve had him. I’m beginning to question just how incompetent you are, and whether I should’ve put you on this case to begin with.”

Sebastian remains unfazed, his voice raising, “Sir, let me assure you that I am competent. I was caught off guard, I wasn’t expecting-“

“Tell me one thing, Castellanos.” The chief cuts in without batting an eye, “Were you intoxicated that night?”

A cold ball sinks to the bottom of Sebastian’s stomach. “No. I was sober.”

The chief doesn’t appear convinced, much to Sebastian’s distain, “What were you doing parading around the city in the middle of the night?”

“I...” Sebastian hesitates for a brief moment, before his brows are furrowing, “I couldn’t sleep, so I took a walk.”

“Were you going to the bar?”

“What the hell is your point?” Sebastian nearly snaps, hands balling into fists.

“My point is, Castellanos, if you cannot get your god damn act together, you’re going to have more to worry about than just getting taken off of this case.”

Sebastian’s teeth grit together, managing to at least suppress his anger.

“Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, I read you loud and clear,” Sebastian answers begrudgingly.

The chief waves him off with disinterest, his eyes already landing back upon his documents, “Alright. Now get out of my sight. You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”

Sebastian doesn’t need to be told twice, more than eager to leave. He’s turning on his heel without another word. Once the door is shut behind him, he’s huffing out a heavy breath.  

God damn it.

His hands are lifting to his face, suppressing the urge to kick out the waste bin next to him. He’s so sick of this shit. The chief- No, they all needed to mind their own fucking business. They don’t understand what the hell he’s going through. He just wants to do his job, to be left alone. Is that so much to ask?

He’s cursing as he gets himself together, before he’s managing to straighten up. His eyes settle upon the police department as he reminds himself to keep calm, to breathe. The memory of that night flickers through his mind’s eye once more, keeping him grounded, focused on his goal.

Taunting laughter, a headless woman with roses. The knife, the camera.

With one final calming breath, he’s striding through the station with new found vigor.  

It doesn’t matter. He has a killer to catch.

[ifinallygavein]

Monster Hunter AU -- Chapter 1: Friends That Decapitate Together

Hi guys! This is a Rowaelin fanfic based heavily on the Supernatural universe. The lore and lifestyle is extremely similar to that world. Hopefully you enjoy! If you want to be tagged, comment or let me know, this is going to be a multi-chapter fic.

Aelin’s blade whined softly as she drew it from the sheath. Her heart thundered in her chest. Glancing at Nehemia, she drew in a deep breath to calm its raging. They could hear it after all. Nehemia mirrored her friend, sucking in the damp autumn air. Together they exhaled in a cloud.

Nehemia nodded at Aelin. Aelin turned the doorknob achingly slowly, the cool metal biting into her scarred palm. She slid through the now open door frame, machete held steadily in front of her. Nehemia touched her back, silently communicating her location. Coming up beside her Nehemia pointed to a door leading to a descending set of stairs. Aelin nodded and continued forward to search the main floor while Nehemia searched the cellar.

Keeping away from the center of walkways to avoid creaking, Aelin drank in her surroundings. Covered furniture and dusty picture frames suggested a long-abandoned family home. The tracks on the dirty wood floor told a different story.

“Aelin.”

She turned at the sound of Nehemia’s voice. Her heart raged in her chest at what she saw. An enormous, hulking man caged Nehemia against his chest. One tattooed tree trunk of an arm wrapped around her middle; a blade held against her throat.

“I’m not a vampire, and neither are you. What are you doing here?” he asked in a low, accented voice.

Aelin took him in. Everything from the top of his silver-haired head to his dirty boots. She sheathed her machete and drew the gun at her hip and aimed straight between those cold emerald eyes. Nehemia swore.

“Let her go. We tracked a nest here same as you.”

He paused. “You’re hunters.”

It wasn’t a question. Nehemia let out a wry laugh. “No, we’re searching an abandoned farmhouse with machetes for fun.”

The grip on his blade’s handle tightened. Aelin’s finger moved to the trigger. “If you know what a hunter is, I’m guessing you’re one too.”

He nodded. Nehemia must’ve felt it because she said, “Then let’s take them down together. No harm, no foul. You help us, we walk away like this never happened.”

Aelin shot Nehemia a look.

The man chuckled. “Your friend doesn’t look like she’s in the forgiving mood.”

Nehemia looked at Aelin with her big brown eyes. Aelin cursed and holstered her gun. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s get these vamps.”

He watched her warily but released Nehemia. She calmy stepped away then turned and held out her hand. Hesitantly, the man returned her machete. The one that had been at her throat. Aelin’s rage reared its head.

Instead she bit out through gritted teeth, “Let’s go.”

Behind her the man’s machete whined as he unsheathed it, Aelin’s following it immediately. Not so subtly, Aelin put Nehemia in the lead. Placing herself between the man and her friend. Nehima ducked into a room to search it. Aelin took the opportunity to whirl on the man and jabbed her finger into his chest. Her rage only grew with the angle her neck had to take to look him the eyes.

But she stared directly into their depths as she warned him, “Anymore funny business and you’re dead.”

He stared right back. “Understood.”

She nodded and turned into the next room to search it. The man swept past her to search the room down the hall. Their search went on until Nehemia called for Aelin.

Aelin and the man charged into the room. Nehemia held a finger to her lips and pointed to the attic hatch. The man stepped forward and nodded at Nehemia. She nodded back and yanked the string to drop the hatch, a ladder sliding down. He caught and proceeded to climb it.

Vampires immediately descended on him. Nehemia rushed to his aid and Aelin cursed as she rushed to hers. By the time she reached the attic it was pure chaos. The silver of their blades cut through the air and they shouted to each other. The man pulled Nehemia out of the jaws of one vampire, and Nehemia sliced the head off another that tried to take advantage of the distraction.

Aelin stepped forward and was booted in the spine. She crashed to the floor; the breath knocked out of her but turned to her back and swiped her blade up. Eviscerated, the vampire fell on top of her still snarling. She flipped them so she straddled the monster and decapitated it.

As she brought here blade down, Aelin heard the thud of another head. She whirled to find the man had taken a vampire that had gone in for the kill on her. He turned to help Nehemia who was facing two vampires alone. Aelin defended them from any that tried to catch them unaware.

When she emerged from the killing calm, Aelin found herself back-to-back-to-back with the rest of her trio, surrounded by decapitated bodies.

Nehemia turned to the man, eyes bright despite being covered in gore and breathing heavily. She offered her hand to him. “Nehemia Ytger.”

He shook it and said, “Rowan Whitethorn.”

Aelin made no move to shake his hand. Instead she nodded. “Aelin Galathynius.”

He returned her nod.

Nehemia ignored the coldness and suggested, “Let’s burn these bodies. Then we should clean up and get a drink. I think we’ve earned it.”

Rowan’s face relaxed slightly. “I’m in.”

Aelin knew she couldn’t get out of it now. “Me too.”

[cagestark]

Tony/ofc pretty please? Iron Man helps out after an animal breakout at the Bronx Zoo, and a young zookeeper there wants to thank him for his services? ~@ironspiderstarker

I had so much fun, even if I know nothing about zookeeping or animals. Hope you can suspend your disbelief and enjoy this PWP!

About this: Tony/unnamed, undescribed OFC. Oral. 2.4 k. Nff.  -

In her office is their first face to face meeting. 

(Sure, she’d been among the six other employees called in at three in the morning during the worst snow-storm New York City had seen in the last ten years. They’d all met trundled up in their coats and hats and scarves and boots outside the gates, shivering when Iron-Man—Iron-Man! she thought to herself, breathless—appeared like a star in the sky, landing in front of them in a flash of burning thrusters. 

But then, when they’d met, it had been face-to-faceplate, and everyone (herself included) had been far more concerned about Lyuba.)

“Cat’s out of the bag, huh?” the suit had said, voice more mechanical than human. “Or cage, should I say. That’s a hell of a malfunction in your security system. Why can’t you tranq her?” 

“She’s pregnant,” another employee said. “Twin, male cubs. There are more people in a single city block here than there are Siberian Tigers left in the entire world—we can’t risk causing her or the pregnancy any harm.” 

“And we can’t risk our funding by reporting this,” someone muttered under their breath.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the news, but I usually wrangle humans. Bad guys, specifically. I don’t think I’m qualified to cat-sit.”

He had been persuaded, though. They had huddled around each other watching on the surveillance cameras as he approached the tiger without fear, coaxing her back to the enclosure. They’d all let out cheers, breathless with relief. One after one, they had trickled out until only you remained in the office, watching over footage of Lyuba roaming the zoo. Then rewatching the footage of Iron-man shooing her along like a sheep-dog might his flock.

When the knock comes, she calls out a distracted, Come in, without thinking about how any other employee wouldn’t have bothered knocking. When she looks up from the footage, Tony Stark is standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. A masked madman might have shocked her less—though it certainly wouldn’t have made her so breathless. 

The closest she’s ever been to a celebrity is walking past Matt Damon once two Christmas Eves ago. This kind of close contact is far different. Tony Stark is far different. He looks at her with the most clever eyes she’s ever seen. She can’t help but feel like he sees through her, into her. When he smiles, her knees press together underneath the desk. He looks even more handsome in person than on television. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, not looking sorry in the slightest. “I left my suit at the curb and running. But I figured this would only take a minute.” 

“I—sorry?”

He points to the computer you’re sitting at. “Whatever malfunctioned in your security system and opened the tiger enclosure? I figured I could lend a little expertise. Save me another midnight trip.” 

“Oh! Of course. Please—” 

Tony crosses the room with sure steps, and she scrambles up and aside to give him her seat. He brings with him the scent of expensive cologne, the kind with a name her lips are too clumsy to form. The smile he gives her is warm, lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Then he turns his eyes to the computer, fingers moving expertly across the keyboard. 

She can’t help but stand by him and watch while he works. 

“Thank you again for helping us with Lyuba,” she says. All the words come out in order—no small miracle with how nervous she is, with the way her hands are shaking. She clasps them together in her lap. “I spent the most time with the large cats. I was actually the first one that they called when she escaped. If anything had happened to her, it would have broken my heart.”

“Hey, what’s the use of a multi-million dollar, practically indestructible suit if I can’t use it to help round up wayward cats in my downtime? And you know, I think I see your problem here. Jesus, this program is outdated. I’m going to make a donation when the sun’s up. A big one. Splurge on something a little more twenty-first century. Off-topic question here—” she blinks when he turns to face her. God, his eyes are huge, dark as the whiskey she keeps in her freezer. “—what would you have done if I weren’t in Manhattan?” 

“Well,” she says. “I probably would have gone in after her. I don’t have a multi-million dollar indestructible suit, but I do have knucklebones.” 

“I’m sorry—?” 

“They’re her favorite treat.” 

“Ah,” Tony says. “Well. I’m not exactly comforted by your protective equipment being something that only makes you look like an even tastier treat to a protective tiger.”

“Needless to say, I am very, very grateful.” 

He laughs, a charming sound. This time when her knees clench together, it’s a visible motion, one that she catches his eyes flickering down to spot it. When he turns back towards the computer screen, it’s with a smirk. He wets his lips, and she wets her own in unconscious mirroring. 

“You’re welcome,” he says lowly. 

She swallows, grateful that he can’t see the way her pulse pounds, the temporary insanity inside her that makes the next statement pass her lips:  “Maybe I could—thank you properly.” 

For a moment, the meaning doesn’t dawn on him. He stares with an almost innocent openness. Then his eyes widen fractionally. “Ah—a generous offer. Not necessary though, I assure you.” 

“I—of course. Jesus. I shouldn’t have even—I’m not usually so—” 

“It’s fine,” he says, smiling. “Like I said, a very, very generous offer. But I’m not usually in the business of haranguing sexual favors as payment for being a good samaritan.” 

“I’m hardly feeling harangued,” she admits. “If you aren’t interested though, I understand.” 

“It’s not a lack of interest,” he says. “Trust me. But I have been making notable progress in being less of an asshole these last few years. It’s taken a lot of self-reflection and, full disclosure, plenty of therapy, and—” 

“And saving tigers.” 

“—that too. I—” His tirade cuts off when she slips from the stool down to kneel beside him in the cheap Ikea rolling chair he’s seated in. His throat bobs as he swallows, staring down at the sight of her. When she places one hand just above his knee, he lets out a long, audible breath into the quiet room. 

“If you really aren’t interested,” she says, voice trembling. “Now is the time to say something.” 

His head falls back to rest against the top of the chair while he looks upwards toward the fluorescent lights. Then his burning gaze is back on her, eyes serious and searching as they rake over her face. “You really want to do this?” 

If he were to put his hand between her legs, he’d have overwhelming physical evidence, but this is the last thing she feels brave enough to say. She’s already on her knees in front of Tony Stark himself. That fills her quota of bravery for the day. Instead, she just nods fervently. Whatever his last reservations were fall to the wayside. His hands fall to his belt buckle and her legs clench together at the sound. Worse than one of Pavlov’s dogs, she thinks. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks, quiet while he pulls out his cock. He’s only half hard, but it’s impressive. All those nights she’d spent gossiping with girlfriends about how Tony Stark must be well hung, and now here is proof. Cut, thicker than she’s used to, and long, jerking under her gaze. When she glances back up at his eyes, she can see that he’s asked a question, but she’s already forgotten what it is. 

Instead, she leans forward, letting one hand press flat against the well-trimmed pubic hair to steady the base while her tongue laps at the head. He tastes clean, maybe a little soapy, like he’d rushed to shower before stepping into the Iron-man suit. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees his hands tighten on the arms of the chair and considers that bolder encouragement than any spoken word. 

Pressing his cock upwards towards the band t-shirt he wears, she ducks down to lap at his balls, watching his face to assess his reactions. Judging by the way his eyes shut, full-mouth parting, this is something he likes. So she throws herself into it whole-heartedly, sucking one into her mouth and then giving attention to the other until Tony’s cock is full, silken, burning skin when she tilts her head to nuzzle against it. When she pulls back, she is pleased to see the way his chest heaves, the way precum pearls at the tip of his cock. 

When she leans in again to lap it away, Tony groans. 

“Jesus, your mouth,” he murmurs. 

She hums, heart buzzing with fresh confidence. As often as his eyes fall shut, he fights them open again and sets them on her, on her mouth where she presses open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, one palm cradling his balls in her warm palm. After a while, she is torturing herself as much as she tortures him, so she pulls back and opens her mouth (jaws already straining at the sheer width of him) and takes as much of his cock into her mouth as she can. 

The long, low fuck he mutters travels down between her legs, causing her to give a groan of her own. While she’d love to work a hand down to where she’s wet and aching, she needs both of them: one to work the length of his cock that she can’t swallow, and one to roll his balls. 

“Fuck me,” he says. “Did I say I didn’t want any more midnight trips to the zoo because—holy shit, that’s, that’s, God, please don’t stop—” 

She takes him deeper in response, letting the blunt head of his cock nudge the back of her throat. He jerks, hands tightening into fists on the arms of the chair. She takes a steadying breath and then works him deeper into her mouth, swallowing around the urge to gag, swallowing again and again when sounds begin to drip from Tony’s mouth in an endless stream, half-formed pleas and praises and filthy words.

It’s easy to lose herself between his legs, to become nothing but an aching knot of need, a useful hot mouth for his hips to fuck into (though he is very gentlemanly about it, little aborted thrusts, one shaking hand coming up to pet at her hair). She reaches up to encourage him to thread his fingers through her hair and take hold of her, to guide her, to use her. She keeps one hand fisted at the base of him to keep from injuring herself and otherwise lets him use her. 

She can’t help but imagine it happening again and again in a thousand different scenarios. Her beneath his desk while he works, keeping his cock warm. Her beneath the table during a rough meeting, his hands knotted in her hair. On her knees between his legs in his fancy penthouse, sucking him off for her own enjoyment. 

Suddenly he coaxes her off, one hand cupping her chin. “Are you alright?” he asks, breathlessly. “You were whining.” 

“‘M good,” she says, voice husky from the battering her throat has taken. “So good. Please don’t stop.” 

Tony shudders all over. “Fuck, I like the way you sound like that. Is that because of me, sweet thing? When your throat is sore in the morning, are you going to remember this and touch yourself?” 

“Uh-huh,” she breathes in the affirmative. Her eyes can’t focus on his face for any longer than a moment, not when his cock is there, glistening with her saliva, red and throbbing. Not when her mouth feels empty and open and desperate to be filled. She opens her mouth again, tongue lax, and he moans as he feeds his cock back between her lips. 

“I’m getting close,” he breathes, one thumb tracing the line of where her lips are wrapped around his cock. “Where do you want it? Absolutely no obligation to swallow, you’re in charge—” 

All the ideas are appealing: him pulling out to come on her face, pearlescent seed that she can lap from her lips. Pulling off so that she can finish him with her hand, so that she can watch every last twitch of his cock as she drags him over the edge. But this is the only chance she’ll ever have to be on her knees for this incredible, god-like man. There’s no chance she’ll let him cum anywhere but her mouth—no chance that she won’t swallow every last drop of him down. 

Kneeling up for better vantage, she plants both hands on hips and coaxes him forward, forward to thrust into her. The message must be clear as the realization crosses his face, eyes squeezing shut in an expression of the most sublime ecstasy. He murmurs one last warning before his pelvis tightens, abs showing in sharp definition where his shirt has ridden up. Then his cock jerks in her mouth, the scent of cum sharp on the back of her tastebuds. She groans, working her tongue as she swallows once, twice, thrice. 

As soon as he has finished, he draws her up onto shaking legs and pulls her onto his lap, his erection pressed between them as he cups her jaw tenderly and kisses the breath out of her. He must be able to taste himself in her mouth with the way his tongue plunders her, drags sensually against her own, but he only groans. 

When he draws back, his cheeks are red, eyes hazy. “I don’t even know your name,” he says, laughing a little. 

“I don’t remember it right now myself,” she says. 

“How about your address?” Tony asks. “I’d like to continue this, if you’ll have me. Somewhere more private. Unless you’re comfortable coming back to mine.” 

She blinks in surprise, sex throbbing when she wonders how he means to continue this. This whole night has been like a fever dream, the strangest, wettest fever dream of her life. And she realizes that she isn’t ready to wake up. So she drags her knuckles gently across his iconic facial hair and says, throat raw: “I’d like that.” 

[allhalloweve]

Chapter 3: A Long Way From Home

Chapter 3 is up! Read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639461/chapters/66867892

“What now?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Right.” Sirius prodded the dying embers of the fire with the iron poker he had found, staring into the wisps of smoke and waiting for some great cosmic message to reveal itself. Some reason for the events of the past weeks, some sheepish apology from the dice-rolling asshole in the sky who decided to throw everything Sirius cared about in a basket and set it aflame.

The soft splashing from the other room had stopped a while ago, but the rest of them had silently agreed not to talk about it. Nobody really knew what to do, anyway—Sirius ached to sit with Remus in silence for as long as he needed, just so he wouldn’t be alone, but he knew that giving him space would be the best course of action.

“The water’s probably cold by now,” Peter said quietly, chancing a look at the closed door. “D’you think he’ll be alright?”

“Not particularly,” James said, his voice dry. “Having your home torn to bits will do that to a person, I suppose.”

“James.” Lily elbowed him harder than strictly necessary and he deflated a bit.

“Sorry. I’m just worried.”

Sirius knew that look on his best friend’s face; he had seen it many times before when James was worried about his parents or when Sirius started thinking about his old life again. The furrow of his brow, the downturn of his mouth, and his rigid shoulders were a familiar sight to anyone who knew him and truly proved that Remus had become part of James’ family. Just over a week this time, Sirius thought wryly. That must be a new record.

“Do you have extra space for the night?” A low voice asked from the doorway to the washroom. Remus was still drying his hair; the smooth caramel color had turned chestnut brown from the water and curled at the ends in loose loops, giving him the appearance of a slightly ruffled bird. “I can sleep on the floor if you don’t.”

“Nonsense, we’ve got space in our bed,” James said without hesitation. Sirius and Peter both raised an eyebrow at him—they certainly did not have extra space in the guest bed that was barely made for two people, let alone four strapping young men. “Right, boys?”

“Worst comes to worst, you can share with me,” Lily joked halfheartedly. The flicker of a smile passed across Remus’ face and hope rose in Sirius’ chest. His eyes were still dull and distracted, but there was a bloom of life there somewhere.

Remus padded across the room and settled between Sirius and the fire without a sound. His left knee rested carefully against Sirius’ right; Sirius could tell he was keenly aware of every movement either of them made. “Did the rest of you form a plan yet?”

“We didn’t want to do it without you,” Dorcas answered with a tired smile. “Besides, it’s far too late to do anything important and I, for one, have reached my limit for heavy conversations tonight.”

The rest of them murmured their agreement, but nobody moved toward the bedrooms. Sirius stood and brushed the nonexistent dust from his trousers. “I’m going to bed. Anyone else?”

A chorus of ‘yeah, sure’ and vague nods answered, followed by a good bit of shuffling and muttering as five people dispersed, leaving just him and Remus by the fire. Carefully, Sirius reached out and touched him on the arm.

“Are you coming?”

“Yeah.”

“…do you need a moment?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” Sirius didn’t move from his position and, after a brief period of silence, Remus leaned into the side of his leg with a shaky sigh. “You’re going to be okay, Remus.”

“I don’t know how I can be. Sirius, if you had seen it—everything is gone. Everything.”

“No.�� Remus glanced up at him, finally, and Sirius squeezed his shoulder. “We’re still here. James, Lily, Peter, Marlene, Dorcas. Me.”

“I killed two people.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “I heard them talking about our parents and I went straight for their throats.”

“Marlene stabbed a man in the heart three days ago, Remus. James took out at least two at the battle. I don’t think any of us are going to get through this with clean hands.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Sirius said, holding his hand out. Remus took it after a second’s hesitation and he pulled him to his feet until they were facing one another in a cruel mirror of their dance. In that moment, standing mere inches from Remus in the low light of the fire, Sirius wanted to hold him close and stand between anything that dared to make him look so fragile.

He settled for taking his elbow and leading him to the guest room, where James and Peter were doing an excellent job of faking sleep. They changed in silence, facing away from one another, though it didn’t really matter; once they slid beneath the sheets and sandwiched themselves alongside the other two, Sirius could feel James’ heartbeat through his arm on one side and Remus’ on his other.

With a long exhale, he let the comfortable heat radiating off Remus’ body and the steady breaths of his brother lull him to sleep.

-----------

The morning dawned soft and slow for once. Sirius decided not to open his eyes and greet it in case Marlene was waiting to drag him out of this wonderful bed by his toes again.

“Should we wake them?” A low voice asked from the doorway.

“No, they look so cozy!”

“We do have to leave at some point, Marlene.”

“Maybe we can just get Sirius up and let Remus be? He’s had a rough couple of days.”

There was a slightly-too-loud laugh that was quickly shushed by several people. “I’d like to see you try to get Sirius out of there.”

Out of where? Sirius let the last bits of glorious sleep slide away and wiggled his toes, trying to get his bearings. He was still in the guest bed, laying partially on his side—that’s odd, I never sleep on my side—with a warm weight encompassing him. Large blanket, his drowsy brain suggested. Sirius hummed in agreement and cuddled back into it.

The blanket mumbled something and shifted. Not blanket???

Carefully, he cracked one eye open and scowled in the general direction of the voices from before. “Shuddup.”

“Oh, he’s adorable.”

The not-blanket grumbled again, slightly louder this time, and tightened its grip. From what Sirius gathered in the sudden light of the sun, he had rolled directly into Remus at some point during the night, whose limbs were now wrapped around him in a tangle. Soft curls tickled the underside of his chin and one strong arm had a solid hold on his midriff.

“What?” he mumbled under his breath, looking past Remus to the doorway, where five people were gathered. “G’morning.”

“Morning.” Dorcas grinned at him. “How’d you sleep?”

“…I’m not sure I can move.” He shifted, then immediately froze when Remus made a terribly sad noise and basically flopped onto his chest. James was shaking with suppressed laughter and Sirius scowled at him before gently shaking Remus’ shoulder. “Hey. Remus, wake up.”

“Hmm?” Remus inhaled slowly as he woke. His freckles glowed in the slanted sun.

“Good morning.”

Remus jolted in his arms and sat up in the blink of an eye, which would have been fine if his head wasn’t directly beneath Sirius’ chin and they weren’t on the very edge of the bed. “Shit, sorry!”

“Ow.” Sirius’ jaw smarted as he pushed the upper half of his body back onto the mattress, still shaking the last spots of pain out of his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked. Remus’ eyes went wide when he saw their audience.

“Were you all just standing there?”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“Long enough,” James snickered, sending the others into a fit of laughter. Sirius could feel the heat on his face burning him from the inside out and squeezed his eyes shut, praying this was just a dream. “Come on, you two, we have planning to do!”

“I am so sorry,” Remus said into his hands once the others were gone.

“It’s fine,” Sirius assured him around the embarrassment that he could practically taste. “It was, um, actually kind of nice.”

“Oh.” Remus looked down at last, still sleep-soft and gorgeous. “Should we…?”

“Yeah, we should.” Sirius’ heart pounded in his ears, stuttering over itself as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Right. Okay.” Remus stared at him for a moment, stock-still, until Sirius leaned closer and he all but bolted from the bed. “We have—we have a lot to do today and you might want to, um, get your stuff together.”

Sirius’ jaw fell open as Remus grabbed something off the floor and slipped out of the room without a backward glance, nearly tripping over his own feet as he tried to walk and put socks on at the same time. “That was—but—”

If he had a little less self-control he would scream.

Instead, like a responsible adult who wasn’t still reeling with confusion, he rolled out of bed and dressed, taking a few deep breaths to collect himself and then a few more to calm his heart, which was still galloping from being thoroughly snuggled.

When he finally gathered the courage to face the world, everyone else pointedly avoided meeting his eyes. Did they not understand that he could see the smiles they were hiding? Did they not—“Stop it, Marlene!”

“I’m not doing anything!” she immediately defended with a twitching smirk.

“I know! That’s the problem!”

“What do you want me to do?”

“You might say ‘good morning’!”

She snorted and he instantly regretted his word choice. “But I know you already had one.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Alright, both of you, that’s enough,” Lily interrupted, holding her hands out like she was stopping a cage match. “Marlene, while you are entirely correct and I’m on your side, we do have things to take care of. Sirius, we saved you a spot.” With far too much ceremony, she gestured to the sliver of room between her and Remus and burst into laughter.

“Lily, you are so funny,” Remus said in the driest voice Sirius had heard in his life. “A real comedic genius. We’re lucky to have you.”

“Is everything alright in here?” Mrs. Evans poked her head from the kitchen, looking rather amused.

“Mrs. Evans, how attached are you to your daughter?” Sirius asked.

“She’s always been a troublemaker,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “But unfortunately, I do care about her quite a bit.”

“Thanks, mum!” Lily said with a bright smile. “Love you!”

“I love you too, imp,” Mrs. Evans disappeared back into the kitchen with a wink.

“Believe it or not, we actually did call you two out here for a reason.” Peter spread a map over the coffee table and placed a mug of cider at each corner. “Alright, so we know the kidnappers are going to Os Anguis, and Bailey is…here-ish?”

Lily moved his finger a bit down and to the right. “Here, actually. We hauled ass to get here in two days. Honestly, I’m a little surprised Remus made it so fast.”

“I ran most of the way.” Remus shrugged. “Anyway, the soldiers will be wanting to avoid suspicion, so they’ll take the most direct route to the capital, yeah?”

“There’s no way we’ll be able to cut them off before they reach Silvalith,” Marlene said, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. “A caravan would travel slow, but we would still be lucky to catch them before the mountains.”

“Time out.” Dorcas held her hands up in a T-shape. “Do we have a plan for what we do if we catch up to the caravan? Are we killing a bunch of soldiers? Are we re-kidnapping our parents? Are we following them into Os Anguis and exposing Riddle’s assassination attempts?”

An uncomfortable silence followed. Honestly, Sirius hadn’t thought about their end goal yet; tracking down the royals had been at the top of his priority list until Remus came back with information. “I might have an idea?” Lily scooted over to the map and furrowed her brows. “Right, so, if we can catch the caravan before it crosses the mountain pass and threaten the soldiers into giving your folks back, we can tell them what we know and let the actual leaders of our countries handle the royal madman.”

“You’re so smart,” James practically sighed, staring at her with dreamy eyes. Sirius smacked him on the back of the head.

“What if we’re really unlucky, though?” Remus asked. “If the caravan makes it through the mountain pass, we’re fucked. We already have to walk through the heart of Silvalith without getting noticed, but going into Os Anguis fully armed with a target on our backs is just plain stupid.”

“Worst case scenario, we could always kill Riddle and stop a war before it starts,” Marlene mused.

“Full offense, that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“I said ‘worst case scenario’! Do you have a better ‘worst case’ plan?”

“Yes! It’s called ‘let’s not get publicly executed for high treason’!”

“I don’t think it counts as high treason if you’re not a citizen of Silvalith,” Sirius pointed out, earning him twin glares.

“Come on, guys, we’re seven of the best and brightest minds on the continent!” James protested. “We have a Plan A that works as long as we move fast, avoid attention, and make it through eastern Silvalith without a problem. Plan B doesn’t have to be complicated if we improvise.”

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but we attract trouble like magnets,” Peter said. “Did you forget that a solid number of Silval soldiers are actively trying to kill us?”

“Assassins, not soldiers.” James corrected, then frowned. “Okay, I see your point now.”

“Improvisation isn’t a plan,” Lily said with an edge of exasperation. “At this point, I say we decide what to do with your parents once we find them and then figure out what the backup is.”

“All in favor of killing their captors?” Dorcas asked. Nobody raised their hands. “How about a quiet re-kidnapping?” Seven hands went into the air. “That settles it, then. The caravan will have probably made it to the northern border by now, so we’ll have to leave soon if we want to catch them before they reach the mountains.”

“They’ve got a five-day head start,” Sirius warned as he mentally traced their route along the map. If they did it right, they would pass through an area he knew fairly well. “We should leave by this afternoon at the very latest.”

“Lily, you’re going with them?” Mrs. Evans voice made them all jump a bit—Sirius had entirely forgotten that she was still within earshot. The earlier playfulness on her face had been replaced by concern and a touch of sadness.

Lily cocked her head to the side. “Yeah, mum, I am.”

“But why?”

Lily started to respond, then paused and looked down at the map. As much as Sirius hated to think about it, he understood; she had no stake in this dangerous, possibly fatal quest. Her family was safe, her country was still standing, and she had absolutely nothing to prove to anyone. She could stay here and be a woodsman in Bailey, she could forget about them all, she could let them go with an oath of secrecy, and nobody would be able to fault her for it. Sirius knew she was brave, but she was also one of the smartest people he knew; nobody in their right mind would agree to go on a cross-continental road trip for no reason.

“I—I don’t know.” Across the circle, James’ shoulders sank. I suppose we’re down to six, then. “I think…” she began again, trailing off before shaking her head. “I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t go. This is what friends do for each other.”

“Alright. Not that you need my permission anymore, but I won’t stop you,” Mrs. Evans said, suddenly sounding much older than she looked. “Come on into the kitchen and fix yourselves some sandwiches for the road. Nobody will leave my house hungry if I have anything to say about it.”

Sirius’ definition of ‘some sandwiches’ turned out to be vastly inadequate. Eventually, Lily had to stop her mother from filling one of the rucksacks they were borrowing with bread and meat instead of other necessities, like spare socks and their map. Many hands made light work, and within two hours it was time to go.

“Can I have a second, guys?” Lily asked as they gathered on the edge of the road.

“Take all the time you need,” Peter said, hoisting Lily’s pack onto his shoulder.

Mrs. Evans was still watching them from the front door, but her stoic expression shifted as Lily hurried back up the stone path for a final hug. “I’m so proud of you,” Sirius heard her say as she held her daughter tight. “Follow your heart.” Her eyes shone as Lily mumbled something into the thick coil of her hair. “Oh, I’ll miss you, too, Lily-love.”

Marlene let out a trembling breath next to Sirius and he pulled her in for a side-hug on instinct; he suddenly and fiercely wished she had had a chance to say goodbye to her mothers before they were taken. Whatever it takes, he promised himself. Whatever it takes to get them home.

Lily rejoined the group a few moments later, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as she walked straight to the front of the pack without a backward glance. It was time to go.

“Who here has been to Silvalith before?” Sirius asked. “Outside of the council meetings, I mean.” Marlene, Remus, and Lily all raised their hands. “Pete, don’t you live on the border?”

“I did when I was little. Once the border disputes started getting violent, my mum and I moved closer to Courlion, just in case. There was no reason to go after that.”

“Right, physician’s apprentice. Did you learn anything besides embroidery there?”

Peter rolled his eyes at the playful ribbing. “It’s not embroidery, it’s sewing. And yes, I did. Just for that, I’m not stitching any of your limbs back together if you do something stupid.”

“Fine, I’ll get someone else to do it for me. One of you knows how to reattach arms and such, right?” Sirius’ inquiry was met with uncomfortable silence. “Really? Not a single one of you?”

“It never came up,” Dorcas defended.

“Lily, you might want to take back your earlier statement about us being useless,” Sirius sighed.

“Pompous, not useless, but alright.” Lily grinned. “I hereby declare everyone in this group except myself and Peter an official useless brat. Happy now?”

“You’re doing wonders for my self-esteem here, Lils,” James snorted.

“I’m sure you can stand to be taken down a peg.”

They bickered back and forth for another hour or so, trailing after Lily in a strange parade. Trading in their tattered and grimy clothing seemed to have been a good choice; they hardly got a second glance from the many farmers along the way.

The roads of the Middle Kingdom had always impressed Sirius: because of the heavy logging trade and the fact that most people had to cross it in order to get to the Eastern ports, the dirt and sawdust were thoroughly packed and sturdy. There was no leftover muck from rain and horses, and in some places, in had been paved with wide bricks where the ground was weakest.

“How long until we reach the village?” James grimaced as he adjusted one of the heavy rucksacks on his back and his spine popped. “Or even just a bench?”

“Marlene has the map, ask her,” Lily said.

“What? No, I don’t. Remus has it.”

“I do not!” Remus argued. “You said you’d put it away while I was packing the food.”

“I said Lily would put it away,” Marlene corrected. “And then she said she gave it to you.”

Lily turned to look at them both and the group came to a stop. “Marlene, I told you to get it off the table while Remus packed the sandwiches!”

“I told you I was packing the food!”

“It’s not my fault! Lily said she’d take care of it!”

“Stop it, all of you!” James cut in, stepping between them. “Let’s go through our stuff and check to see who has the map. It doesn’t matter whose fault it was.”

“It wasn’t mine,” Remus muttered under his breath.

Marlene rolled her eyes. “Oh, for the love of—” Her complaint cut off abruptly as a bundle of fabric hit her square in the nose. James raised his eyebrows at her and raised another pair of socks in a clear threat until she huffed and began helping him dig through their things.

Twenty minutes and plenty of cursing later, they discovered that nobody had, in fact, grabbed the map before they left the house. A second challenge came when none of them could figure out how to repack their bags, so the hurried scramble turned into lunch in the middle of the road. Ham and cheese sandwiches were decidedly less tasty when they were sun-warmed and a little dusty from travel, but Sirius was hungry enough to eat just about anything.

“Well. We have no map and we really can’t waste any more time if we want half a chance of catching that stupid fucking caravan,” Sirius said as he jammed the last waterskin back in. “At least you three have been here before.” There was a tense silence. No. Absolutely not. “Are you kidding me?”

“In my defense, I’m fantastic at navigating southern Silvalith,” Marlene said immediately. She seemed less likely to chop someone’s head off after some food, at least.

“Remus?”

“Same problem, opposite direction.”

“Lily, please tell me you know where you’re going.”

“I know how to get to the border, mostly,” she said, twisting the end of her braid. “The trade deals have been tapering off the past few years because we keep finding Silval soldiers poking around the towns, but my dad and I used to go there at least once a season.”

Dorcas pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “And none of you thought to bring that up when Sirius asked? You know, when we were still a reasonable distance from the cottage?”

“He didn’t specify!” Lily and Marlene exclaimed at the same time.

Sirius wanted to throttle them both. “I shouldn’t have to! My meaning was crystal clear!”

“He was pretty blatant about it,” James mused.

“You don’t get to defend him.” Marlene jabbed her pointer fingers at them. “You’ve got that weird telepathy thing going on and I don’t like it.”

“Look, why don’t we just keep walking until we reach the next town and find a map there,” Peter said, sounding utterly exhausted despite their recent meal. Sirius supposed spending time around the six of them would do that to a person as introverted as poor Peter.

“I’m with Pete,” Dorcas said, standing up and adjusting the spear on her back. “We’re not getting anything done by sitting around and arguing.”

“The future rulers of the continent, and not a single person remembers a fucking map,” James mumbled as he hauled Sirius to his feet. “Fantastic.”

--

“We’re lost.”

“No, we are not.”

“We’re definitely lost.”

“For the eightieth time, I know where we are!”

“Bullshit. We should’ve gone left.”

“For fuck’s sake, Sirius, give it a rest!”

“I’m with Sirius on this one—”

“Who would have guessed.”

“—and we should turn back before it gets any darker.” An owl hooted overhead and all seven of them jumped, forming an even tighter clump as they watched the sun grow lower and lower on the horizon.

“Turning back won’t do us any good.” Remus shook his head and turned to face James. “If you haven’t noticed, there aren’t a lot of people around here.”

“I swear I saw a chimney not ten minutes ago.”

“Jamie, I love you, but you have terrible eyesight for anything within twenty feet of you. That was a dead tree.” Something moved in the underbrush and Sirius leaned closer to his brother, hovering his hand over the hilt of his sword. They had seen neither hide nor hair of the assassins since Hemgard, but that didn’t mean they were safe.

Another twig crackled, on Sirius’ other side this time. “Hello?” he called, slowly drawing his blade. “Is anyone there?”

“If you’re here to rob us, we have no money, just sandwiches and socks,” Marlene said. “You don’t like ham and cheese, do you? Ouch, Dorcas, that was my foot!”

“Lower your voice!” Dorcas hissed. The point of her arrow gleamed in the setting sun as she took up her position defending her fiancée’s back.

“I’m just asking!”

“Whoever’s out there, show yourself,” Remus demanded in a voice like stone. Unfortunately, it was kind of attractive, especially since it was still a little husky from the night before and—pull it together, Sirius. Now is not the time. Sirius shook his shoulders out and resumed scanning the shadowed trees around them.

A sudden scream pierced the air behind him, closely followed by James’ familiar shout of alarm and the twang of a bowstrng. Sirius whipped around, fully prepared to fight whoever was stalking them, only for Peter’s wayward elbow to put him off-balance. He stumbled into Remus’ back and within moments, all seven of them were in a pile on the ground, staring up at a scornful-looking cat.

One of James’ arrows was embedded in the ground next to its curling tail and it appeared personally offended by this fact, if its hiss of disapproval was anything to go by. Sirius had never been glared at by a cat before; somehow, the spectacle markings around its eyes made the effect even more pronounced.

“Is this what all the fuss was about?” Marlene asked. “You scared the shit out of me, you two.”

“It jumped out of nowhere,” Lily said sheepishly. The cat meowed loudly at her. “You did!”

Sirius untangled himself from the web of limbs, rucksacks, and weapons—it was a miracle none of them had lost an eye, what with all the sharp pointy bits laying about. “If anyone was wondering, my heart is doing fine now, though it’s found a new home in my throat for the time being.”

“I don’t like cats,” Remus grumbled as he dusted himself off. “Always running around and biting people.”

“I’m pretty sure direwolves bite people, too,” Sirius said.

“But not without a reason.” Remus sounded downright scandalized. Right. Sacred symbol.

“Where are your people, kitty?” Dorcas cooed, crouching down to the cat’s height and holding her hand out for it to sniff. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing.”

The cat rubbed its head against her palm, then moved past her and began weaving through everyone’s legs in a smooth ripple, pausing now and then to pass judgement. Sirius held his breath when it reached Remus, who had been eyeing it warily the whole time. The cat sat down in front of him and tangled its claws in his pant leg, tugging downward with a forceful meow.

“Stop it. Bad cat.” Remus shook his ankle around, but the paw didn’t budge.

“Mrow.” Another pull.

“If you rip my trousers, we’re going to have an issue.”

“Brrr.”

“Brrrr yourself.” Sirius stifled his laughter behind his hand and leaned his head on James’ shoulder, which was shaking with silent giggles. “Ugh, fine.”

Remus knelt on the ground and the cat removed its paw. If Sirius didn’t know better, he would have thought it raised its eyebrow. Slowly, deliberately, without breaking eye contact, the mysterious cat shuffled forward, leaned in, and rubbed both its cheeks against Remus’ with a low purr.

“Made a friend, have you?” Sirius said as the cat stepped back and began sauntering toward the trees to their right.

“I think she wants to show us something.”

“Excuse me?”

Instead of elaborating on his incredibly cryptic and unhelpful comment, Remus stood up and began following the cat.

“Remus,” Lily called. “Remus, I know you’re not big on teamwork but would you care to tell us why the hell we should follow a random cat into the very dark, very creepy woods?”

“Just trust me.”

“Wow, that’s the opposite of an answer.” James sighed.

Remus paused at the edge of the trees and gestured in exasperation. “Well, I’m not just going to leave you all here, but we’re going to lose her if you keep on standing around. Do you trust me or not?”

“Are you feeling alright?” Peter asked carefully. “It’s been a hard few days—"

Remus huffed. “I’m not going crazy. And for what it’s worth, I trust you. All of you. Can we please just follow the cat now?”

“Alright.” Sirius stepped forward and met Remus’ gaze. “I trust you.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, followed by a slight smile that sent Sirius’ insides tumbling over each other until he was sure everything was upside down and backwards. “Thanks.”

“Lead the way, cat whisperer,” Dorcas said as she peered through the trees. “Huh, would you look at that. She’s waiting for us.”

Sure enough, the cat was perched on a pile of tree roots, grooming one of her paws with the air of someone who simply could not be bothered by their petty arguments. “Doesn’t get much clearer than that,” James admitted.

The last of the sunlight was gone a mere five minutes into their journey, leaving them all stumbling along in the slivers of moonlit that filtered through the branches overhead. Marlene and Dorcas had the right idea in Sirius’ opinion—their tightly-clasped hands prevented any sudden stumbles that could take the whole group down yet again.

“Where are you taking us?” Sirius murmured as he missed another low-hanging branch by the thinnest of margins.

The cat trotted gracefully down a winding slope and disappeared around the curve. “Be careful here,” Remus warned, bracing one arm against a nearby tree as he started to step down. “It doesn’t look all that—" With a loud scraping noise, the rock he was stepping onto gave way and skidded into the darkness. Sirius lunged forward without a second thought and grabbed his wrist, leaning back with all his weight as the rock bounced off the walls of a deep ravine that none of them had noticed. “—steady,” Remus finished.

He pushed against the tree just as Sirius pulled on his arm, and they ended up bumping chests as he straightened. “You okay?” Sirius’ voice was weak even in his own ears.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Remus sounded even more breathless than when he had nearly fallen down a cliff; it would have been flattering if Sirius could focus on anything other than the way the moonlight caught the side of his face.

“So, the cat ditched us,” James said dryly. Remus reached down and carefully pried Sirius’ fingers off his wrist, his touch lingering a half-second longer than strictly necessary. What was that saying Euphemia was so fond of? Cold hands, warm heart?

“On the contrary, dear boy, I believe she brought you exactly where you needed to be.” A silver-blue light bobbed along the ravine path like a star come down to Earth.

“Who are you?” Lily asked suspiciously.

“My name is Albus Dumbledore.” As the light came closer, Sirius could make out the face of an old man with a long, white beard walking toward them. “Minerva has a knack for finding lost souls wandering about in the woods; I do hope she wasn’t too pushy with you.”

“Where is that light coming from?” Marlene squinted as Albus Dumbledore reached the top of the hill. He chuckled and thumped his tall walking stick twice on the ground—the light dimmed, spreading into a softer glow that illuminated everyone’s faces.

Dumbledore looked even older up close, yet there was a youthful twinkle in his eye that was equal parts inviting and unsettling, like he knew several things they did not. “Magic, of course.”

“Magic?” Peter’s skepticism was palpable. “Um. Alright.”

“Would you like to come back to my cottage for the night? It gets quite cold around here this time of year.”

“We really appreciate the offer, Mr. Dumbledore, but I think it would be best if we kept going. We have a long way to travel and not much time,” Dorcas said. In the gentle light, Sirius could see her hand twitching for Marlene’s as it often did when she was anxious.

“Ah, yes, your quest to save your parents.” Dumbledore nodded sagely, as if this was old news. “An honorable thing, to be sure, but ultimately unsuccessful. If you insist on going, it will be difficult to pursue without a map.”

Frost covered Sirius’ spine and he saw James stiffen in his periphery. How did he know about the map? “How do you know about our parents?” Marlene’s voice was low and dangerous in a way that Sirius heard very rarely.

“I know a great many things, Marlene of Tidoras, but I have very few people to share them with. If you are truly committed to your quest, I can help you on your way. If you choose not to accept my aid, I will send you along with my best wishes and a promise of safe passage through the woods.”

“Team meeting, everyone,” James said without looking away from the old man.

“He creeps me out, but I don’t get any really bad vibes,” Lily said quietly when they huddled up. Sirius glanced back at Dumbledore, who seemed to be deep in discussion with Minerva the cat. “I think he’s just a little off his rocker.”

“He knew about the map, and about our parents.” Dorcas narrowed her eyes. “Something’s not quite normal.”

“I think we should go with him for the night and hear what he has to say,” Sirius said. “Worst case scenario, we leave with a crazy old man’s ramblings and a couple hours of rest.”

“I think the worst case scenario is getting murdered in our sleep, actually.” Peter frowned. “I don’t think he’d do that, though.”

“Any information he can give us is good information,” James sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I vote we go with him.”

“Me, too,” Dorcas said, rather grudgingly. “He’s bizarre, but he hasn’t tried to kill us yet.”

Marlene wrapped her arm around her fiancée’s waist. “I’m with Dorcas.”

James nudged his shoulder. “Sirius?”

“You know I’m on your side.”

“Remus?”

“We’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Pete? Lily?”

“I’m up for trying,” Lily said as Peter nodded.

“Mr. Dumbledore?” James turned around. “We would be honored to spend the night at your cottage.”

“Lovely!” Dumbledore straightened surprisingly smoothly for a man of his apparent age. “Follow me, please, and do be careful of the edge.”

The woods were damn near silent compared to the ones surrounding Varghal. Sirius flexed his jaw as they went deeper into the shadows, their way lit only by Dumbledore’s magical light—there was a faint buzzing in his ears that simply would not go away. He lost track of time within moments, and by the time they reached Dumbledore’s cottage he couldn’t tell if minutes or hours had passed. The shadows all ran together in his vision, broken up by strange pinpricks of multicolored lights that looked like animal eyes but clearly were not.

Minerva was waiting in the open doorway when they arrived, silhouetted by a cheerful orange glow from the fireplace. Next to him, the tension that had melted off of Remus during their walk returned with a vengeance, and he balked as they approached. “Are you okay?” Sirius asked as his pupils dilated.

“It smells like smoke,” Remus muttered.

It’s ashes. It’s all ashes and there is nothing left. Of course he wouldn’t want to be around fire. “Do you want to wait outside? We don’t have to go in.”

Remus shook his head, then paused as a fresh plume of smoke curled into the night air and sent a small shiver through him. “I don’t know.”

“My apologies, Remus, I had forgotten.” Dumbledore snapped his fingers and the scent of smoldering logs completely disappeared, leaving only the crisp sweetness of the forest. “I can assure you it is much warmer indoors, if you should choose to come in.”

The welcoming glow of the cottage remained, but the chimney looked as though it had never been used; not a single wisp lingered. As soon as they crossed the threshold, James gripped Sirius’ elbow tightly. “Do you smell—”

“Yeah.”

The cloud of sandalwood and jasmine hit him like a punch to the heart as they entered the main room of Dumbledore’s home. Suddenly, all Sirius could feel was the warmth of Euphemia’s arms around him and Fleamont’s steady hand on his shoulder, both shielding him from the monsters that chased him across the world. He could practically hear the chime of her bangles, could feel the softness of the old shirts that Sirius borrowed until he received clothing of his own. James was there, too, in the sea salt and coconut; somewhere, deep beneath, he heard the familiar laughter of someone he had not seen in a long, long time against the smell of star-shaped sugar cookies fresh from the oven.

“What is this?” Dorcas asked, her voice thick with emotion. “What are you doing?”

“Ah.” Dumbledore’s gaze was full of pity as he looked at them over his half-moon glasses. “That, I am afraid, is not my doing. This cottage was built from the wood of the storgus tree, which is quite comforting to most, though I suppose it would be bittersweet for you. Please, have a seat.”

James cleared his throat, opened his mouth, then took a deep breath before he trying to speak. Euphemia and Fleamont were the closest thing Sirius had to actual parents, but he had only known them for six years; he couldn’t imagine what this was like for James. “You said you had information for us?”

“I do. To be frank, your quest will not succeed.”

Marlene clung to the armrests of her chair. “It has to. We will get our parents back and stop this war.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Dumbledore chuckled. “You have a strong family here, and I have the feeling you will not let each other down. No, what I mean is that your current plan is doomed to fail in more ways than one.”

Peter exhaled slowly. “So how do we fix it?”

“I’m glad you asked, Mr. Pettigrew. The first problem with your plan is that the caravan will certainly cross the Frystmarkan border by tomorrow afternoon. The second is that you are being hunted by Death Eater assassins as we speak, and if Minerva had not brought you here you would have been caught before dawn.” Dumbledore took a sip of his tea. “The third issue has to do with your plans for Tom Riddle.”

“King Riddle?” Lily frowned. “We were going to turn him over to the authorities and expose his corruption.”

“Yes, you were. Please do not take offense to this, but it was quite foolish to believe a man as powerful as Tom Riddle would go quietly out of power. In order to achieve true peace, he must die.”

Dumbledore’s words hung heavy in the room, nearly overpowering the scent of home and family. “We have to kill him?” Sirius asked.

“In one way or another.” The old man looked truly dismayed by this for reasons beyond Sirius’ grasp. “Therein lies your final challenge, of course: how to do it?”

“Dorcas and I are both archers,” James offered, though he looked rather sickened by the idea. “If we catch him in front of a window, we might have a chance.”

“I admire your nerve, but it is not so simple as that. Tom Riddle comes from a land of magic, the same land I used to call home before it was devastated by war. He can only be killed with a weapon from the place of his birth, and the world can only heal if his evil is obliterated.” Dumbledore took another long sip of tea as Minerva curled up on the nightstand next to Dorcas’ elbow.

“Destroyed?” Remus said softly. “He’s not from…?”

“He is not from your homeland, no,” Dumbledore assured. “Tom Riddle and I both hail from what is now called the Wildland.”

“But nobody lives there,” Dorcas protested. “It’s just cracked earth and monsters as far as the eye can see.”

A great wave of sadness washed over his wrinkled face. “Seventy years ago, Tom Riddle attempted to destroy his only physical weakness and become immortal, but his plan backfired and the Wildland became what it is today. What once pulsed with life and magic became a parched wasteland. However, his weakness still resides in the compass rose for those who are pure of heart enough to seek it.”

“Then we’ll start in the morning,” Sirius said. “With seven people searching, we’ll find it for sure.”

Dumbledore held up one hand and took a long sip of tea. “I admire your nerve, but that will not solve your problems. By the time you travel south, find the dagger, return, and make your way to Os Anguis without discovery, it will be too late to stop the war, not to mention you will lose the trail of your parents.”

“What are you saying?”

“He’s saying we have to split up,” Lily said. “One group has to go to the Wildland while the other tracks the soldiers down and does what they can to warn people about the war. We would meet in Os Anguis.”

“Absolutely not.” James’ voice brooked no room for argument. “We work as a team. Nobody will get separated ever again.”

The memory of Remus arriving the night before covered in blood, soot, and fear rose unbidden to Sirius’ mind. He couldn’t bear seeing that again with anyone else. “Let’s discuss it in the morning after we’ve had some sleep, okay?” Peter offered. Sirius could hear in his tone that he knew they would have to split up; he was already grieving. The rest of them muttered their assent, and Sirius prepared himself for a long night.

--

Waking up in a magic forest was strange. It was quiet except for the gentle buzzing, and the smell of Sirius’ family clung to his throat with every breath. He had slept like a log and didn’t dream once, but the bitter resignation of what was to come laid heavy on his tongue when he woke.

He was the first one up, for once, and took a moment to drink in the sight of his friends as they laid at peace. Marlene and Dorcas were facing one another, their foreheads and knees touching so the curve of their backs formed an unconscious heart. Peter was curled in a ball near the heavy curtain of Lily’s vibrant hair; her freckled face smoothed in sleep, making her look more like the girl Sirius had played board games with a mere week prior. James was splayed beneath the blankets, snoring softly—Sirius would never tire of seeing him free of the bonds of responsibility.

And Remus was…well, he was glowing. It was silly to feel like much for one person so fast; Sirius was well aware that he was in too deep for rationality. If he concentrated, he could still feel the tingle of Remus’ hand clasped in his own as he teetered along the edge of a precipice. That’s fitting, he thought wryly. It feels like this has been one fall after another. Maybe it was the sun, maybe it was the forest’s magic, or maybe it was Sirius’ irrational brain telling him that’s the only one for you, but Remus shone with a low golden light.

When Sirius finally went into the kitchen, Minerva was sitting primly on the table next to a teacup of cream and a small plate of biscuits. “Can cats eat biscuits?” he wondered aloud, only to be met with a disapproving look. “Sorry.”

“Good morning.” Dumbledore entered the kitchen in long blue robes and a tall hat decorated with stars. “How did you sleep?”

“Quite well, thank you.” Sirius took the proffered scone and cup of tea gratefully.

“This journey will be difficult for you, Sirius Black.” Dumbledore settled into his chair with a mild expression, seemingly oblivious to the way all of Sirius’ blood drained into his feet and left him swaying in his seat. “You will need to face that which you do not wish to.”

“I’m not afraid to face my parents,” he gritted out. “Not anymore. I’ll gladly give them a piece of my mind.”

Dumbledore’s blue eyes sharpened as he finally looked up. “I’m not talking about them.”

Sirius deflated. “I know.”

“Good. You’re an intelligent young man.” Dumbledore spread some frightfully orange jam on a biscuit. “If you can spare an eye, keep it trained on your friends, especially young Remus.”

“Why? What’s going to happen to them?”

“As of right now, nothing out of the ordinary.” Dumbledore paused, them set his breakfast down and faced Sirius fully. “Though, if Remus goes to the Wildland, he will die.”

The room dropped twenty degrees. “How do you know that?”

“I am not at liberty to say, but I can tell you this: he has hidden depths that the Wildland will take too kindly to, in a manner in which he will not survive.”

“Oh, you’re awake.” James’ drowsy voice broke through Sirius’ spiraling thoughts as he shuffled into the kitchen and took the seat next to Sirius’. He scratched Minerva behind the ears and she purred. “The others will be out soon.”

“Good.”

James squinted at him. “You seem…off. Are you feeling okay?”

“Just worried.” Sirius forced a reassuring smile. “Really, I’ll be fine.”

True to James’ word, the other five members of their party trouped out to the table over the course of half an hour. The meal was the quietest they had ever had together.

“So,” Lily finally said, breaking the silence. “I suppose we should figure out groups.”

“I still think it’s a bad idea,” James offered halfheartedly. “But you’re right.”

“I’ve been to the borders of the Wildland a bunch of times with my dads, so I should be in that group,” Dorcas said as she folded and refolded her napkin. “James, I think it might be best if you came with me, since Marajis and the Eastern Coast are allies.”

“I’ll go with you, too,” Marlene said.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Sirius said as gently as he could. “You know southern Silvalith like the back of your hand and you can call in favors in Tidoras if we need them. It’s the same with Peter.”

“I’m not leaving my fiancée to go running through a land of monsters without me to watch her back,” Marlene snapped. “I suppose you’re going to go with James, though?”

“No, I’m not.”

“What?” James turned slowly to look at him.

Sirius’ mouth was dry despite the tea. “I’m going with the Silvalith group.”

“Sirius, we’re a team, you promised—”

“I’m useless in the Wildland, Jamie,” Sirius interrupted. “I have no real ties for the Eastern Coast and I’ve never seen a speck of that place. As much as I want to go with you to the ends of the earth, I can help in Silvalith. Please don’t fight me on this.”

The betrayal on James’ face hurt more than anything Sirius had ever felt. He had promised to stick by James’ side in that stupid, freezing cave, and here he was backing out on it so soon.

“I’ll go with you and Dorcas,” Lily said. “That way Remus can lead you three through the northern boundary if you need it. Besides, it’s good to have someone on your team who doesn’t use a bow in a fight.”

“I can provide you with transportation out of the forest and into the Wildland, but you will need to find your own way back from there,” Dumbledore said. Sirius jumped a little; he had nearly forgotten the old man. “You have approximately an hour before you must go.”

One hour. One lousy hour to steel his nerves and say goodbye to his best friend in the world, his brother, his Jamie. The seven of them stood without another word and began to gather their meager belongings.

Dumbledore took each group aside and gave them a new drawstring bag with a map, a compass, and a variety of oddities that Sirius was half-convinced he put in as a joke. “It is time,” he said at last as one of four cuckoo clocks in the kitchen began to roar like a lion. “James, Dorcas, and Lily, please follow me.”

Though he only called three names, the whole group trailed out of the house and onto the thick moss that coated the ground. The forest was beautiful in the daytime, shimmering and humming with life. The multicolored blots that Sirius remembered from the previous night were small balls of rainbow flame bouncing through the trees; from what he could tell, they were also the source of the buzzing noise.

“Wait,” he blurted as Dumbledore raised his arms high above his head. “Can I—can we say goodbye first?”

The old wizard’s face filled with kindness and he nodded. “Of course.”

Sirius was moving before he even thought it through and James met him in the middle, colliding with a harsh gasp. “It’s not goodbye,” he managed around the clog in his throat. “This is not goodbye, okay? I’m so sorry I’m not going with you.”

“I understand,” James said, his desperate voice muffled in Sirius’ shoulder. “I’m sorry I was angry. We’re still a team. A little distance can’t get in the way of that, yeah?”

“Yeah.” With tremendous effort, Sirius released his hold and ruffled up James’ hair. “Stay safe, Jamie.”

“You, too.”

“Hey, Red?” Sirius called as James walked back toward Dumbledore. “Take care of him for me?”

Lily nodded. “You can count on me.”

“Dorcas? Our window is getting smaller.” Dumbledore’s voice was gentle as he looked over to the last member of the party, who was holding Marlene like it was the last time.

“I love you so much,” Marlene whispered, brushing a stray lock of dark, coiled hair out of her fiancée’s deep brown eyes.

“I love you more,” Dorcas responded, pulling her in for a kiss. Sirius’ chest ached at their love, at the care with which Marlene cradled Dorcas’ face in her hands and at the way they seemed to melt together into one person for a moment. Quite the pair. Two halves of one soul.

When they finally separated and Dorcas took her place in the circle, Dumbledore began to chant a series of flowing phrases in a strange language. Sirius did not understand it, but he felt as though the meaning of each word was just on the tip of his tongue.

In a flash of light, the trio was gone.