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Chapter Text

You follow your cousin’s instructions, parking your bike just inside the warehouse with expectations of rain later in the day. He had recently hit a big break in his career, landing a job working as one of the stunt doubles for the new Star Trek movie. Knowing how hard you “geek out” over anything Star Trek related, he was gracious enough to invite you for a visit, allowing you to stay at his place – although the main reason you really came was to check out the set!

You nudge the kickstand down, allowing your bike to lean over as you kill the engine. Hearing footsteps approach, you slide your helmet off and swing your leg over the rear of the bike, bringing you face to face with your cousin.

“Hey Jack.” You throw one of your arms around his shoulders, still dangling your helmet in the other.

He wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground for a brief moment. “Glad you could make it! Don’t worry about leaving your helmet here; no one will mess with your stuff.”

You nod, leaving it on the seat of your bike before following Jack further into the warehouse. “So, do I get to see you working? Or can you at least tell me who it is you’re a double for already?”

He laughs, draping an arm loosely across your shoulders. “All in good time, my dear cousin. I might introduce you to some of the crew later, but for now… I wanna show you the set!”

As you round the corner, your jaw drops, and you numbly step forward onto the bridge of the USS Enterprise. “C-can I?...”

You turn to face Jack, who rolls his eyes, but reluctantly nods as a smile spreads across his face. Wasting no time, you strip off your heavy leather jacket and throw it into his waiting hands. Turning back, you take a deep breath, and step up to the captain’s chair, slowly lowering yourself to rest in what may be the most amazing seat of your life. Your heart pounds against your chest, and a massive grin remains plastered across your face as you take in the view.

“Alright.” His voice breaks through your daydream, bringing you back to reality. “Let’s go grab some lunch.”

You frown slightly, but drag yourself away from the chair, reluctantly coming to stand beside him again to take another look before leaving. You slip your jacket back on, not bothering to zip it back up as you follow Jack through the warehouse and weave through various sets.

“Come on!” He calls over his shoulder as you start to fall behind. “I promise I’ll show you everything later, but I’m starving!”

Groaning in annoyance, you trudge forward, scuffing your feet against the floor slowly. His eyes narrow, telling you your plan is working, and as he throws his hands up you know you’ve won.

“Fine! You can go look around and I’ll go get us some food, just try not to break anything or be too weird!” He’s calling after you by the end of his sentence; you had turned around almost immediately to run back to the main sets.

You soon find yourself back at the bridge, internally drooling over all the details and completely lost in your own little fantasy world. Footsteps sound nearby, and you assume they belong to your cousin again as they hesitate before coming to stand behind you.

“Pretty amazing right?” The voice startles you, definitely not belonging to your cousin.

You turn quickly, almost knocking into the man, but his hands catch your shoulders to steady you. He chuckles softly, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks as you reluctantly bring your eyes up to meet with his. Your breath catches, and you feel the blush spread further across your cheeks when he flashes that gorgeous smile.

“I’m so sorry.” You finally manage to say, backing away slightly.

He drops his hands to his sides, but seems hesitant about it, or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

“So…” He clears his throat. “I haven’t seen you around; did J.J. just hire you on?”

Shaking your head softly, you open your mouth to speak, but are interrupted. “Hey! There you are, I was looking everywhere!” Jack’s voice sounds from the doorway, and he comes to stand beside you before turning his gaze. “I see you met Karl.”

“Hey mate.” He and Karl clap each other on the shoulder in greeting before they both turn their attention back to you. “Found your girl here making googly eyes over the set.”

“Woooaahhhh!” Both you and Jack speak up simultaneously, protesting with your hands raised defensively.

“Cousin,” Jack interjects. “She’s my cousin visiting to check out the set, she’s a huge Trekkie.”

Karl’s eyes seem to light up, maybe just your imagination again, but he looks over you again with a smile across his face. “Cousin?” He quirks his brow and in his Bones voice says, “Good god man she looks nothing like you.”

“Guess I got the good genes. And sense of humor. And she doesn’t get out much socially so she’s sort’ve weird …” Jack shrugs.

You narrow your eyes at him, but Karl speaks up. “Yeah yeah mate. I’d be hiding my cousins too if any of them looked like her.” The blush creeps back across your cheeks, but you manage to flash him a flirty smile to which he returns with one of his own. He scratches the back of his head and glances hesitantly at Jack before returning his gaze to you. “Would you like to go out to lunch with me?”


Chapter Text

You drop from your perch atop the ceiling beams, landing on the couch just beside Raven, who you manage to startle. “I’ll never get used to you doing that…”

Smiling, you nudge her playfully with your shoulder. “Better get used to it.”

She laughs, and turns slightly to face you more fully. “I have a new one for you.”

“Oh really?” You quirk a brow, curious as to what she would ask this time. The two of you had bonded over somewhat similar abilities, where she could adopt different human traits or become a different person entirely; you could adopt traits of animals. This had developed into a long running game since you came to join their group, you would find new things for the other to shift into. Besides, it was great practice.

“Bat wings!” She exclaims, fanning her hands out dramatically to emphasis her words. “Massive bat wings!”

You clear your throat and stand, stepping a few paces back and popping your knuckles as Hank and Alex pause their card game to watch. Stripping off your shirt to reveal a sports bra, you take a deep breath and roll your shoulders as large black bat wings extend themselves from your back, folding out to stretch nearly 8 feet long each. Raven bounces on the couch and the boys clap their hands as you jokingly take a bow.

Standing up straight, you hear clapping behind you, and turn to face Charles approaching with a tall man you’ve never seen before. They’re both studying you – your wings rather – causing a light blush to rise in your cheeks.

“I’ve not seen you try wings before,” Charles speaks up, motioning to them as he turns his gaze to his companion. “Lovely, don’t you agree Erik?”

Your eyes meet with his; this man he calls Erik. His gaze is unfaltering, the edge of his lips twitching up ever so slightly as his smooth voice finally sounds. “That she is.” He steps closer, breaking his gaze only to motion to your wings. “May I?”

You nod curtly, and turn, his fingertips lightly brushing along where the wings protrude from your shoulder blades and meld with your own skin. He flattens his palm, and feels along one of the wings themselves, causing you to twitch slightly. “Sorry.” You clear your throat, holding back a giggle. “That tickled.”

Feeling his hand move away, you retract the wings and stand as your human self, turning to face him again as Charles speaks up. “She has the ability to adopt any animal trait she wishes.”

Without the wings drawing his attention, you suddenly feel Erik’s eyes rake over your exposed skin, and flash him a knowing grin when his eyes travel back up to meet yours. “What’s your favorite animal?”

He returns the smile somewhat smugly. “I’m partial to the wolf.”

Closing your eyes, you feel a light shiver in your spine as a black tail protrudes, accompanied by two fluffy ears at either side of your head and claws to replace your fingernails. Opening your eyes, you once again flash a toothy grin, this time showing off your new set of canines both top and bottom.

“She’s just like me but with animals.” Raven speaks up, playing the proud sisterly friend to the new girl currently undergoing inspection.

Erik seems pleased with this, excited even. “To what extent are you able to change?”

You kick off your shoes, and slide off your shorts as both he and Charles share a bewildered glance and Raven giggles knowingly. “You asked for it.” A small groan escapes your lips, slowly turning to a low growl as the woman you were now stands on all fours as a large wolf as black as night.

Erik steps closer. “Beautiful. Does it hurt when you change?” You shake your head. “Is it just as easy to change back?” You nod. “Can you change back and forth, whenever you like?” You nod again, but as you notice his patiently waiting, you paw at the remains of what was your sports bra and underwear on the floor.

“Oh... Oh! Oh dear.” Charles rushes forward, grabbing a large blanket and draping it around you, allowing you to shift back to your human form unexposed. “A marvelous new addition, don’t you think?” He turns his question to Erik, who is staring at your hands where they hold the towel around yourself. “Erik?”

“Marvelous indeed.” He holds his hand out towards you. “Let’s get you a fresh set of clothes.”

Chapter Text

Teddy POV:

The black SUV pulls up to a Boston Sand and Gravel Co. site where a small metal building serves as what I’m assuming is the lowly office for some Irish thugs, along with their head, a Mr. John Looney. Frank Masters brings the vehicle to a stop; I’m not sure why Pushkin recruited this particular member of Boston P.D. as he has proven himself mostly useful only as a chauffeur.

“Listen, Teddy.” His Boston accent irritates me. “The Irish are clean on this one. They had nothing to do with it huh? Come on. What are you gonna do? You gonna sit down with all these guys? I’m telling you-“

“Yes.” I cut him off, hoping to stop him from speaking further. “I understand; duly noted.”

Stepping out of the vehicle, I feel my phone buzz in my jacket pocket: Pushkin. I reluctantly answer, pressing the phone to my ear as his voice drones on about wanting the matter resolved quickly. “Yes Mr. Pushkin. I am meeting with our Irish associates now.”

“Good.” He sounds somewhat pleased, although his impatience is notorious. “I’ve sent someone along to speed this process. Make things easier since the locals seem to be lacking certain…skill sets.”

The thought of having a partner to work with annoys me greatly, but I have to admit that the locals on Pushkin’s payroll seem to be falling quite short in expectations. “I’ve noticed this myself.”

Masters fidgets slightly, adjusting his hat and glancing around the grounds as my gaze falls on him. He furrows his brows, and points past me, directing my attention to an approaching SUV.

Pushkin’s voice in my ear reminds me of our conversation. “It’s a new employee I’ve hired, quite skilled. They should be finding you soon.”

“I believe they just arrived.” I end the call, and move towards the vehicle as it comes to a stop.

A rather large man in an expensive suit steps out, his eyes hidden by dark sunglasses, and a rather tall woman made taller by her 6 inch heels, donning an equally expensive but form-fitting suit. Masters is instantly distracted by the woman, while my attention is soon back on the large gentleman to whom I fake a rather convincing smile and introduce myself. “I believe you are my new associate?”

The man laughs, a deep gravel-like sound, but I keep the smile plastered on my face, not quite sure what to expect from him just yet. He turns to move back to the SUV, but Masters finally breaks his trance from the seemingly oblivious woman to call after him, “Where are you going?”

The man turns back to face us as he opens the driver side door, wiping a tear from his eye as his laughing finally subsides. “Trust me, gentleman, she’s the one you want helping you.” With that, he slides back into the SUV and pulls away, leaving just Masters, the woman, and myself.


Your POV:

They both looked shocked, the local more so than the controlled Russian beside him which you assume, by Pushkin’s description, to be Teddy. You watch as Blake pulls away, and then turn your attention towards the metal building, ignoring the all too familiar stares of these men who are no doubt still underestimating you to this moment; it’s nothing new, and even works to your advantage at times. You nod towards the building, “Classic Irish thugs?”

The local man, Boston P.D. by his badge, shifts his cap. “I don’t understand what-“

You sigh and squeeze the bridge of your nose. “Do they like women, or no?”

He nods slowly, and you shake your head as you pop open the top few buttons of your shirt before moving towards the building. The cop jogs after you to catch up, “Listen huh? Do me a favor, alright? Whatever you do, don’t call him “Little John” okay?”

You purse your lips, pausing just before the door to allow Teddy in first, knowing this cop just planted a seed with that ‘Little John’ comment.

Teddy takes the single seat across the desk from John Looney, leaving you, the cop, and two of Looney’s armed men to stand at the edges of the room.

John plays with a rubber band, twirling it between his two index fingers, perhaps a nervous tick? “Frank.” He directs his attention to the cop, so that’s his name? “Why you working for these fucking Russians? My money not good enough?”

Frank speaks from the doorway, seeming calm as though this Irishman’s bark is known to be worse than his bite. “John, you know I got respect for your business-“

Teddy, patiently sitting in his seat, seems tired with the formalities. “Mr. Looney. You understand why I’m compelled to make this visit?”

John drops his hands to the desk, leaning forward to direct his statements directly at Teddy. “I don’t know shit about what went down or who you should be out looking for. If I wanna take over anything, I’d fucking do it. There’d be nothing left to you people. So maybe you just don’t understand who the fuck I am.”

Frank sighs. “John… Easy, huh?”

“Don’t ‘easy’ Frank. Shut the fuck up! Fucking flipperhead…” He shakes his head, cheeks slightly red from anger as he continues his rant directed at a seemingly amused Teddy. “See, I hate you fucking Russians. You’re all crazy and you’re arrogant. Now, the Irish, we came here for a piece of the American dream. You people came over here to steal it, so fuck all of you.”

“Well, Mr. Looney, I appreciate your condor. It’s…it’s refreshing, and lets me understand that you’re not smart enough to have done this.”

“What the fuck?” John is obviously shocked, but Teddy continues.

“Which brings me to my next issue.” He stands, grabbing a pen from John’s desk and the two other men shift uncomfortably as he moves towards a map on the wall, drawing a rough circle around the local area. “We pay you 15 percent to do business here. The additional 10 percent you steal, we ignore. We anticipate it, as you people are such clichés. And the fact that you’re a rat to the Feds is also tolerable, Little John.”

Another “What the fuck?!” escapes John’s lips as Frank sighs.

It was his own fault really, for planting that tid-bit of information in Teddy’s brain in the first place. Removing your jacket, you catch the admiring glances of John’s two goons, distracting them slightly as Teddy continues.

“What we will not tolerate is getting nothing for our money,” He pounds his closed fist lightly against the map to accentuate his point. “No information, no protection, no assurances. You understand, Little Johnny?” It’s pretty obvious the enjoyment he gains from using the name, the torture it causes leaving a genuine smile on his face.

John is bewildered, his jaw hanging loose as he stumbles for words. “Who do you think you are coming down here-“

Teddy interrupts, raising his voice and sending light chills down your spine. “Who I am, or what I am? Who I am is complicated, what I am is…easier. I’m a threat. I…alter outcomes.”

You glance to one of the goons, winking at him and biting your bottom lip suggestively.

John is furious, understandably, and motions to his goons, whom both currently have their eyes glued to you. “Throw this motherf-“

Teddy quickly hits him in the head with an ashtray he’d grabbed from beneath the desk. Taking advantage of the distraction you built since entering the room, you wrap your jacket around one of the goon’s arms as he moves to raise his gun. Flipping him and taking his weapon, you quickly kneel, taking out the second man before turning back to the first to snap his neck. As you stand, you notice Frank is frozen in the doorway, watching, horrified as Teddy continues to beat John within an inch of his life.

You quirk a brow, although you would deny it to anyone else, you can at least admit to yourself that watching Teddy excited you. He gives John another good kick before turning to glance around the room, a wicked smile touching his lips briefly as he straightens his jacket. Stepping over the bodies, he calmly leaves the room. Taking a deep breath, you hand Frank the gun, and walk out as well.

Seconds later Frank jogs out after both of you. “Hey! Hey.” He comes to stand before Teddy, who is nonchalantly inspecting the damage done to his knuckles as if ignoring every word. “This is my town. Do you understand me? This is my home. You cannot just run around like a fucking wild animal. What the fuck was that?”

“It’s a message. It says “I’m here.”” He smiles, and dons his sunglasses before returning to the SUV.

Frank turns to you, but you simply shrug and slide in the other side of the SUV, leaving him to stand alone. Shutting the door behind you, you glance over to Teddy. “He seems a bit green for this job.” He turns his attention to you, dragging his eyes along every inch of your figure before finally meeting your narrowed eyes. “I know I’m not what you expected, and I’m not too fond of having a partner either. But I work for Pushkin, same as you. I’m just here to do my job and get paid.” You turn to look out the window, seeing that Frank was finally making his way back towards the SUV, although his cap was pulled down and his head low.

“It was…impressive…in there.” You turn back to face him, but his attention is still out the window.

Stubborn seems to run deep with these Russians. Glancing down, you reach for his hand, finally drawing his attention, his eyes following your every move as he allows you to inspect his bloodied and torn knuckles. You feel along the length of his hand, then his wrist, searching for any injury beneath the surface, and look up momentarily to catch his eyes staring back into yours.

The driver door opens, and Frank climbs inside just as he’s hanging up the phone. You let go of Teddy’s hand, satisfied there was no major damage and watch Frank hesitantly turning to face the two of you. “Pushkin wants her to stay with you.”

Chapter Text

You flip the page, engulfed completely in yet another Shakespeare play; you've become somewhat obsessed with his work lately. You notice a figure enter the room out of the corner of your eye, but don't bother looking up, assuming it's simply one of your fellow housemates here at the Avenger's Tower - all of which know better than to disturb your precious reading time. You turn another page, thoroughly fascinated and almost completely oblivious to the figure now taking a seat on the couch across from you, their silence allowing your concentrations to remain in your book.

The feeling that this isn't someone you're acquainted with begins to prick at the back of your thoughts, distracting you, and is confirmed as their voice sounds. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" You look up, meeting green eyes as his honey smooth voice continues with eloquent pronunciation of your favorite Shakespearean Sonnet: 18. "Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,"

You interrupt him, which seems to delight him as a smile pulls at the corner of his lips. "And summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometimes declines,"

He takes his turn to interrupt you as you close your book, both leaning forward at the edge of your seats. "By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed. But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, Nor shall Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,"

"When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st. So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long live this, and this gives life to thee." You finish the sonnet and find yourself to be increasingly enthralled by this curious man before you.

He cocks his head to the side, still grinning broadly as you continue to study one another. You feel quite underdressed in shorts and a plaid flannel compared to his armor of green and gold; his features sharp and lean, his eyes piercing, his jet black hair harsh against his pale skin, but is all somehow tied together with the regal sense of elegance about him. His smile above all else, both intriguing and inviting, especially when his smooth voice passes through those lips.

This such voice interrupts your thoughts, "You're quite interesting... odd trait in a mere Midgardian mortal."

Furrowing your brows, you part your lips to speak, but find Thor's booming voice cutting you off. "She's no mere mortal, my brother, nor is she from Earth."

Your attention turns back to the green eyed man. "So, you're Loki then?"

He smiles again, but this time it doesn't seem to quite meet his eyes. "And who may you be, my dear creature?"

You look to Thor and sigh, leaning back against the couch. "You wouldn't have heard of me, I'm from Olympus." His eyes widen slightly. "Yes... Olympus as in Zeus; he's my father." It wasn't his fault really, but the expression on his face annoyed you all the same; you had to answer the same questions ever time you were introduced to someone new. "I'm not one of the well known children, being that I'm the youngest..." You unintentionally trail off, allowing your aggravations to distract you momentarily, although it only seems to further intrigue Loki.

He stands from his seat at the edge of his couch, moving to sit at yours instead, but Thor quickly leaps over the back to land between the two of you. "Stay away from her brother, she may seem harmless but I can assure you she is not. Nor will I tolerate anything to happen to her."

Loki looks from you to Thor. "Dear brother... are you fond of this Olympian?"

You groan and peek around Thor, your eyes narrowed. "The Olympian can hear you...she's right here, thanks. Now can both of you please leave me to my book?"

You lean back against the couch, quickly finding the place you last left off in your book, and try to ignore the guilt that comes with watching Thor sulk out of the room. Pursing your lips, you lower your eyes back to the book in attempts to re-immerse yourself back in the world of Shakespeare; although it proves quite difficult as you feel someone breathing over your shoulder, and the couch sinking slightly with the weight of someone creeping closer.

Shutting your book, you turn to Loki. "Can I help you?"

He casts his eyes down, his shoulders slumping as he looks away. "You're the only one I've been able to feel some sort of connection with. I suppose now that you've discovered who I am, you'll hate me as the others do."

You hold the book out to him, and he look at you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape but no words escaping as he stares at the contents of your outstretched hand.

"I don't hate you Loki. I don't think that anyone, until their soul leaves their body, is past the point of no return." You nudge the book towards him again. "Take it, I can get another copy. Besides," You shrug, flashing him a gentle smile. "Reading the same play will give us something to talk about."

He hesitantly reaches for the book, allowing his fingertips to linger along the skin of your hands as his eyes lock with yours.


Chapter Text

I received an email that I've been reported for mis-tagging my work and I thought it was common sense that "drabbles" meant I would do all of these works at some point, however, someone reported me so I feel the need to clear the air if there has been any misunderstandings. This is a drabbles work.... I will be getting to all of these tags when I gave the chance and I do apologize that I've been busy as of late, but I WILL be doing them. So no, this is not's simply a drabbles work which is a collection of short works that will represent all of the tags eventually. Didn't think that needed explanation but aparently. .. I also apologize if I sound rude but the email upset me and I'm not sure why someone would report me when I even state in my summary that this is a collection type drabbles work. ..

Chapter Text

You wait patiently at the table, tracing water droplets along the length of your glass as Sergeant Wu returns to the seat across from you.

“Sorry about that, I thought it was work calling.” He studies the length of the table, and then turns his attention to you. “Would it be alright with you if we had company? Some guys from work are coming in for lunch and this is the usual place, I thought maybe we could all eat together.”

Your lips turn up in a smile. “That would be great. I’m glad I let you talk me into this, my first day in town and I’m already making friends in high places.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, well, you looked pretty lost.”

“That I was. So, how many others are coming?” Your eyes widen as you feign a look of horror. “We aren’t gonna have the whole precinct crammed into the diner are we?”

“No, actually it’s just two of our detectives, Nick Burkhardt and Hank Griffin, and our Captain, Sean Renard. I think there will be enough room to stay at this table but if-“

“Hey!” Hank spots the two of you. “Wu, you didn’t tell us you had a date man.”

The three of them approach the table, offering their hands to introduce themselves to you one after the other before taking their seats. “It’s a pleasure to meet yall.”

“And it’s not a date.” Wu interjects, his cheeks slightly pink as Hank playfully nudges his shoulder. “She’s new in town. She looked lost and the weather is pretty bad out today to be riding a motorcycle, so I invited her to lunch.”

Captain Renard, or Sean as he insisted you call him, chuckles beside you. “It’s good to see my men taking such initiative.”

The entire table laughs, bringing an almost genuine smile to your lips. This was all coming together much nicer than you’d hoped; what had started with a simple lunch had led to you now sitting between your two main targets. “So I’m in good hands then, Captain?”

Sean’s attention turns to you, his eyes briefly darting to your lips before meeting yours eyes. “I thought I asked you to call me Sean.”

You shrug, feeling your smile grow more playful. “What’s the point of having a title if no one ever uses it?”

His eyes are drawn to your lips again as you take a sip of water. “I’ll make you a deal.”

You place your glass back on the table and run a hand back through your hair. “A deal?” You turn to face him more fully. “Hmmm. What kind of deal? Will you cuff me and throw me in the back of your car if I say no?”

He raises a brow, failing miserably at keeping his gaze away from your lips. “How about… if you ever come to the station you can call me Captain, but any other time I’m just plain Sean.”

“First day in town and I’m already on a first name basis with the police Captain.”

He chuckles and turns to give the waitress his order before jumping back into the conversation. “So, did Wu sweep you off your feet by rescuing you today?”

You glance up to see Wu engaged in a debate with Nick and Hank. “He’s sweet, but not exactly my type, not that I’m looking.”

He studies Wu. “So sweet isn’t your type?”

You laugh and shake your head. “Between you and me?” You lean a little closer, as does he. “I’ve never been able to date someone short than me, it’s just a thing I guess.” Shrugging you lean back in your seat, and bite back a smirk as you catch a glimpse of him straightening his posture. This was going to be so much simpler than initially planned.

“So.” Nick speaks up, drawing your attention away. “How long do you plan on staying in town?”

Sighing, you slump in your seat. “I’m not sure anymore. I got tired of city life so I sold everything that didn’t fit in my backpack and was thinking of finding a quiet place out here, but I can’t find anything for sale. Everything is either lease or the houses are too close together.”

“Wow.” He shifts in his chair to face you. “So you just packed up and left? Where are staying while you’re looking for a place?”

You shrug. “Yall know of any good hotels?”

“Oh no, nu uh.” Hank shakes his head and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You’re living out of your backpack and looking to hold up in a hotel until you find a house? You have no idea when you’ll be able to move into a place, and the decent hotels around here get expensive.”

Nick nods. “He’s right, maybe you could come stay at my place?”

“Man.” Hank shakes his head again. “You just took in Trubel and Juliette is already feeling crowded, she can stay at my place.” He turns back to you. “Now, it’s not fancy but I can make up the guest room.”

You hold up your hands. “Guys, it’s okay, really. I wouldn’t feel right putting you out like that, I’ll just stay at one of the cheaper places.”

Wu opens his mouth to speak up but you point a finger warningly, and he just laughs.

After lunch you bid your farewells, and promise to see everyone around town, before walking back to your bike. You slip on your backpack and start the engine, too lost in thought to notice Sean approaching until he stops just beside you. Killing the engine, you drop the kickstand and furrow your brows.

“I know everyone offered already, but I just…” He glances toward the street and then hesitantly back to you as he pushes his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. “I just wanted to say that my place has an open invitation too. It’s on a hill so it’s quiet, and it’s roomy, especially since I’m working most of the time.”

“You’re all very trusting people.” You shake your head and glance over his shoulder, seeing that the others had already left. “Would you really trust me enough to leave me alone in your house? You just met me.”

He looks down, pursing his lips, and then brings his gaze up to meet yours. “I usually wouldn’t.”

“An honest answer, I like it.” You fiddle with the straps of your helmet for a moment. “What time do you get off tonight?”

The edge of his lip twitches up. “I can be off right now if I want... So, is that a yes?”

You smile and laugh, shifting on your seat to hold the bike upright as you nudge the kickstand back up with your heel. “Lead the way Cap.”

Oh yes, this was definitely going to be an easy assignment.

Chapter Text

You slide into a booth in the empty diner, stressed and tired from  drive. It had been a three day trip, which you condensed significantly by stopping only to refuel and stock up on snacks. Y ou decide to skip the main course, and go straight to ordering what you really craved.  

"I'll take your best pie, just surprise me."  

The waitress smiles at you, "Comin' right up sweetheart."  

Looking out the window, you watch for any sign of company. This was the planned location, but you had  arrived early. A black car pulls in, an  Impala, not the car you were waiting on. Two men step out, and enter the diner to take seats at the bar.  

The waitress returns, placing the pie on the table before you. "Here you go  darlin' . Enjoy!"  

You rub your hands together in excitement, your mouth already watering at the smell. "Thank you very much ma'am." Taking the first bite, you lean back in your seat and let out a soft inward groan. The waitress peers over the counter, waiting, and smiles as you give her two thumbs up.  

One of the men from the bar makes his way to your table, "Excuse me, but...may I ask what kind of pie that is?"  

You eye him for a moment, and then look past him to see the man still sitting at the bar shaking his head. "It's cherry."  

The man motions to the empty seat across from you.  

"Free country." You shrug.  

He slides in the booth, and offers his hand from across the table. "I'm Dean by the way, that's my brother Sam at the counter." You shake his hand hesitantly. "Do you always eat pie before your meals or is this just a special occasion?"  

Leaning forward against the table, you narrow your eyes. "Listen...Dean right? Well... I like pie, and I can eat it whenever the hell I want." You take another bite without breaking eye contact. "And this is some damn good pie."  

He chuckles and bites his lip, then flags down the waitress. "I'll have what she's having if you don't mind."  

She winks at him, "Sure thing handsome! Anything else for you sweetheart?" She turns to you, but you shake your head, and she leaves the two of you alone again.  

You take another bite of pie, and Dean smirks. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and you like pie. If you don't let me take you out sometime you're gonna break my heart."  

"Consider yourself heartbroken kid."  

You both turn to see an older man  standing with Sam at the edge of your table.  

Dean clears his throat and looks at you apologetically before glaring back to the others. "What are you doing here Bobby?"  

Bobby motions towards you. "I was here for her. I didn't even know you two  idgi ts  were in town."  

Both Dean and Sam look to you questioningly.  

You sigh and stand, turning to Bobby and smiling softly before embracing each other in a warm hug. "Hey dad."

Chapter Text

You circle slowly, staring directly into the woman's eyes. You had no idea who she was, but she definitely knew you. 

"Any last words, filth?" She twirls the blade in her hand, planning her next attack. Though the element of surprise was gone, her initial lunge having been less than successful, she still seemed confident. 

That confidence was her downfall. 

You dart forward, dropping to your knees to avoid the slash of her knife, and run your own blade through her. As she drops to the floor, armed guards flow in and surround the two of you. They part briefly, allowing only one to pass through the ranks before closing the circle again. 

The woman reaches for him. "Vaako! Help me." 

He moves past her to face you. 

"Kill her!" You hear the woman screaming, but he seems to take no notice. "Vaako! Kill her!" 

He removes his helmet and glances at the woman over his shoulder, but his gaze soon turns back to you. "Why didn't you kill her?" Clenching your jaw, you remain silent, challenging him as he steps closer. "I asked...Why didn't you kill her?" 

"She attacked me," You state plainly. "I wanted to know why. I can't exactly get information from someone if they're dead." 

He smirks. "Finish her." 

"No!" The woman yells. "Vaako, you can't be serious!" 

He moves to the side, giving you a clear path to her. "Finish her, or she will find a way to finish you." 

The woman tries to stand as you move closer, but falls back down. "The Lord Marshal will hear of this! He will have your head! He knows who you really are!" You hesitate, blade at her throat. "That's why he sent me after you, and he will send more." 

Narrowing your eyes, you slowly slide the blade across her neck, enjoying the sounds of her gasping for air as death painfully washes over her. 

The echo of a slow clap comes into focus as it grows near. Turning, you see the Lord Marshal step forward to survey your handiwork. He faces you and offers his hand. "Congratulations, you passed the test." 

You glance hesitantly at his hand. "Test?" 

Smiling, he retracts his hand and motions to Vaako, who comes to stand beside you. "Vaako said you had potential. I thought we may have to kill you, knowing how most Furyan behave, I wasn't sure you were capable of being loyal to our society." 

You stiffen, but feel Vaako's grip on your arm. "What do you want with me?" 

The Lord Marshal chuckles. "Want with you? My dear, I want to train you. Or rather, have Vaako train you. Furyans have a natural skill, and with some fine tuning, you could be one of my best. Especially if you're anything like your brother." 

You flinch at the mention of Riddick, the brother that abandoned you as a child. He left you alone on an unknown world, as far as you were concerned, he was no family of yours. "If you think I'm so special, why didn't you send someone more skilled?" 

He smiles, glancing between you and Vaako. "She was chosen for reasons other than skill. You have undergone the conversion, so you know the Necromonger way, correct?" 

Nodding slightly, you study the woman's body for clues of her status. "You keep what you kill. But I still don't-" 

"She was chosen, because I knew you would do well to take over her position."  He nods to Vaako, who you notice is oddly quiet. "I also knew that if anyone deserved this, it would be Vaako." 

The situation becomes clear. "She was Dame Vaako..." 

Lord Marshal motions for the guards to exit with the body, and turns to following them, leaving just you and Vaako. "I believe you will want some time to acquaint yourself with each other." 

Furrowing your brows, you turn to Vaako. "You wanted me to kill her." 

He smiles and moves closer, sliding an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him. You try to hide the shiver he causes, but the smirk on his face tells you he noticed. "Trust me, she didn't give a damn about me, and I didn't give a damn about her." He moves the stray hair from your face with his free hand, and leans in until his lips are barely an inch from yours. "You're a vast improvement, and someone I'm proud to call Dame Vaako." 

Chapter Text

"Wait! John...there's one last thing I need to do. We have to go back!" 

John purses his lips and studies Sam's pleading expression. "Where is it?" 

She takes a deep breath. "I haven't told you everything... and I'm sorry, but I'll explain on the way." 

His brow furrows, but he trusts that his sister wouldn't keep anything from him without good reason. Not after everything they just went through. 

Your POV: 

You fall to the floor, gasping for air as the effects of cryo-sleep begin to wear off. 

"Sam?" You call out, voice cracking and sending you into a coughing fit. 

She comes to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder. "John, help me get her up." 

You feel a strong arm wrap around you and set you on a cold table, standing before you with hands on either side of your waist to hold you upright. Your senses slowly come back, and the figure before you comes into focus. "Sam?" 

You feel a large hand brush against the side of your face, softly tucking the stray strands of hair behind your ear. "I'm John, Sam's brother." 

"Here." Sam comes forward with water. "Drink this, it'll clear your head." 

You can tell with the first sip that something was in the water, but you trust Sam with your life, and drink the entire glass. Just as she promised, your senses clear, and you're back to yourself. Feeling the heat of John's hands still on your waist, you glance up to meet his eyes. Placing a hand on either side of his face, you pull him closer until his is only inches from yours. You feel his heartbeat quicken, and notice his pupils dilate, but choose to ignore it for the time being as you study his eyes closer. His grip on your hips tightens, and his breathing becomes more shallow. You can smell the change in his hormones, and feel it begin to react with your own. Before either of you loses control, you gently push him away so that you can slide off the table. 

Turning to Sam, you cross your arms. "You injected him didn't you?" 

She remains silent for a moment, which is answer enough. 

"We agreed you wouldn't do it again Sam. We agreed that it wasn't worth it!" Feeling your anger grow, you take a deep breath, and then step closer to her. "I thought we agreed." 

"I couldn't lose him..." She lowers her gaze to the floor. "It worked with you, and I knew it could work with him. I couldn't lose him, just like I couldn't lose you. You're the only friend I have, and he's my brother. What was I supposed to do?" 

"I understand..." You sigh and hug her lightly. 

Releasing each other, she smiles and glances towards a confused John. 

"You didn't tell him before injecting him?" You question Sam, studying John's every reaction. 

"Tell me what?" He demands. "Sam, how does she know?" 

"There was an accident one day in the lab..." Sam glances towards you. "I wasn't paying attention, I looked away for a few seconds. I just didn't expect the chemicals to react that way..." She takes a deep breath before continuing again. "There was a loud noise, which I later realized was an explosion. All I remember is being thrown to the ground, and when I looked up, there she was. She pushed me out of the way and shielded me. She would have died if I hadn't.... I couldn't just let her die John." 

"You injected her with C24?" He runs a hand down his face and shakes his head. "That's how you knew it would work with me, you did it with her. Why didn't you tell me?" 

She shakes her head. "I couldn't. I didn't know if you would try to kill her, so I hid her in cryo." 

You tilt your head, listening. "We have to go, this place is gonna blow soon." 

John studies you, furrowing his brows as he turns his head to listen for himself. 

You chuckle softly. "Don't worry big guy, you'll grow into your new abilities. It took me a while at first too." 

You notice his pupils again as his hormones flare, but maybe there will be time for that later, when Sam is safely outside. 

Chapter Text

You feel his lips press against yours, moving slowly, coaxing you into submission as his grip on your wrists slowly loosens and you give in to the kiss. He smiles against your lips and releases your hands completely, leaving them free to travel up his chest and tangle in the back of his hair. A soft moan escapes you as his firm grip now finds your hips, pulling you to fully press against each other. You bite his bottom lip and tug playfully at his hair, earning a deep growl-like groan from him. 

"Cut!" You hear Paul yell from his chair. "Great scene guys!" 

You look up and share a brief smile with Marton as you untangle from each other, separating yourselves slightly as you both approach Paul. He was great at giving acting notes, he had a vision for Bourne Supremacy and he knew just what to say to get what he needed from the entire cast. You had only been on with the group for a few months, and already you had learned so much more here than at any school, but the intimate scenes...were something you weren't exactly prepared for, much less with Marton Csokas himself. 

"I think that's all we need for today, I know you're still a bit new with these more intimate scenes," He turns to you. "But you did great. Really." He turns back to face Marton, giving him notes as you shuffle off to find some cold water; anything to soothe your nerves. 

You take several long gulps, closing your eyes as you feel it run through your body and cool you. Though your cheeks still felt a bit flushed, your breathing had slowed and your heart was now beating at a normal human rate. 

"Hey!" You turn to see Marton approaching and feel the flush in your cheeks deepen slightly. "You ran off pretty quick, just wanted to make sure you were alright." His natural kiwi accent kicks in, which still takes getting used to after hearing him fake a more Russian accent every day on set. He furrows his brows, taking your silence as a sign of discomfort. "If it helps any... I was really nervous with my first heated scenes. I just hope you weren't too uncomfortable." He purses his lips slightly, seeming genuinely concerned. 

Smiling, you shake your head. "You were great. It's just something new that I'm going to have to get used to, being in this industry, it's just part of the job and getting into character." 

He nods slowly. "If there's anything at all I can do to make it less awkward for you..." He shrugs. 

"Weeelllll......." You tap your chin, pretending to stare off somewhere deep in thought. "Nope, I got nothin'. But honestly, I'm just glad I didn't get stuck with a lousy kisser." 

You manage to laugh at your own lame joke, but begin to regret it as you realize he's not laughing. 

"You think I'm a good kisser?" He teases. 

"Hush!" You playfully push his shoulder, earning laughter from both of you as he holds his hands up defensively. 

"Alright, alright. For the record though, I think you're a great kisser too." He smirks. 

You feel your face burning and glance down to peel at the label of your water bottle. Flirting wasn't exactly your area of expertise, not in real life, and you decided to play it safe rather than embarrass yourself with a case of misread signals. You glance back up, prepared to find a way of excusing yourself, only to see that Marton is much closer now. 

Slightly startled, you move to take a step back. He slides one arm around your waist, pulling you to him as he moves his other hand to the back of your neck. Slowly, he leans his face closer to yours, closer, closer, until his lips just barely touch. 

You grip his tie, pushing your body flush against his, and close your eyes as his lips finally crash onto yours. 

Chapter Text

Frank had been sent to kill you as one of his last jobs before retirement, but he made a different decision; he flipped you. Something about you reminded him of himself, and from that day forward you shared a strange bond, each being like the family the other never had. Even though you didn't quite follow in his footsteps with the CIA, you still took after his skills and hobbies. Frank didn't exactly approve, but you could tell he was proud any time he heard about one of your hits. After all, you had been trained by the best, which is one of the reasons you were the first he called after being labeled RED. 

Now here you are, in the CIA office in Langley Falls, Virginia. 

"Wait here." Frank points a finger of warning at Sarah. 

Her expression deflates as she slumps down into the closest chair, huffing a sigh of disappointment she plays up her puppy dog eyes for all they're worth. 

"You'll be fine." You place a gentle hand on her shoulder and she nods knowingly. Deactivating her puppy dog eyes none too soon, there's no way Frank could have lasted against those. Turning back to Frank you notice the hard set muscle twitch in his jaw, his eyes heavy beneath his furrowed brows. "Hell no. I'm going Frank." 

He meets your gaze apologetically. "I didn't even say anything." 

Shaking your head you poke a finger to his chest. "I know that look Frank. Give me a few minutes with this guy." 

He purses his lips and glances between you and Sarah. 

"Please dad..." It was a low move, but it always worked. You see his eyes soften briefly and know you've gotten your way. 

"5 minutes." He says. 


"10." He holds up his hand to silence your next rebuttal. "Final offer." 

Narrowing your eyes, you reluctantly nod, knowing precious time is being lost in argument. "10 minutes, no less. I don't want you barging in early like last time and ruining everything." 

Moving past him you hear a mumbled, "That was one time..." And allow yourself a small smile before rounding the corner to a hall of office doors. 

You lean over, tousling your hair, and proceed to undo the first few buttons of your blouse. You barge through the door and quickly close it behind you. Breathing somewhat heavily, you check out the blinds, feigning surprise and ignorance as someone clears their throat behind you. 

Spinning around, you almost bump into him. "I'm so sorry. I thought this office was empty for lunch." 

He stands his ground, eyeing you suspiciously as you keep glancing towards the door. "Is something wrong?" 

"It's my ex..." Your shoulders slump and tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You can sense him softening, almost to the point of breaking. "He broke the restraining order...again." 

And there it goes. His stern demeanor immediately crumbles, replaced by a need to protect, something most men can't control in the presence of a distressed damsel. "Stay here as long as you like." He gently leads you to a chair, motioning for you to sit as he picks up a phone. "What does he look like?" 

You give him a quick description of a random man you had seen earlier, which he relays through the phone. "Thank you. I'm sorry I barged in, I'll just go now." 

You stand and move towards the door but he stops you, opening his mouth hesitantly before peeking out the blinds. "At least stay until security picks that guy up?" 

You chew at your lip, struggling to conceal a victory smirk. "I don't want to bother you..." 

"I insist." He smiles and holds out his hand. "I'm Will by the way, William Cooper." 

You shake his hand, introducing yourself truthfully, knowing he wouldn't have a clue who you are. 

"I was just about to go to lunch, maybe we could order in to my office?" He shrugs and scratches the back of his head. "I wouldn't mind the company to be honest." 

You notice movement outside the window and peek through the blinds. "It looks like security got him, I really should be going." Turning back to face him, you plaster a big flirty grin on your face. "Thank you for saving me Mr. Cooper." 

"Please, call me Will." 

"Will." You nod, still smiling as you step closer. He watches you, but makes no move to stop you as you trail one hand from his shoulder down the length of his arm, grabbing his hand gently. "I'll call you Will, if you call this number sometime." You turn his hand over, palm facing up, and jot down your number all while he watches you, his lips stuck in a satisfied smirk. 

Giving him no time to answer, you walk out the door. 

Frank nearly knocks the seat over he stands up so fast. "So?" 

You shrug. "It'll be easier than I thought. Tan line on his finger means he's recently divorced, and he was all too eager for the classic damsel in distress." 

"But can he help us?" 

Smiling, you move past him towards the elevator. "Give it time dad, you taught me well." 

Chapter Text

"You have got to be kidding me..." Tony moves away from the glass to look at Bruce. "We have to call Steve." Bruce only stares at him, hands in his pockets as if waiting. "What?" 

"Nothing." Bruce shrugs. "Was waiting for a sarcastic comment." 

Sighing, Tony takes out his phone and holds it to his ear. "I would never be sarcastic in a sensitive time like this." He points a finger of warning at Bruce. "I'm disappointed in you, and to think that- Oh hey Capcicle! Get your frosty ass down here, we have a chunk of ice thawing and you might wanna check it out." He pockets the phone, not giving Steve a chance to hangup, and smirks at Bruce's expression. 

"You could have said something to prepare him a little more." Bruce looks back through the thick glass at the said 'chunk of ice'. 


Your POV: 

You inhale deeply, feeling your lungs burn as they expand. The lights are bright, and you struggle to bring your arm up in attempts to shield your eyes. "W-wh-where?.." Your throat is on fire, mouth is dry, and ears are ringing. 

A figure steps forward, but your eyes are slow to adjust. You move to sit up straighter, but your arms are strapped to the hospital bed. "You're wanting to know where you are?" 

The ringing slowly subsides as your senses begin to sharpen and clear enough to make out the figure; he's dressed in a strange long white coat, and as you look around you see that the room is equally unfamiliar. 

"It's okay." The figure moves closer, causing you to flinch. He holds his hands up apologetically and takes a step back. "You're safe. The straps were merely precaution until you had time to … adjust." 

"Adjust?" You wince at the scratchiness of your own voice, and attempt to clear your throat. "Adjust to what?" 

He slowly moves forward again, motioning to the straps around your wrists. Taking your silence as confirmation, he slowly undoes the straps and offers you a glass of water from the side table. "This may be a bit difficult to hear, so we've asked that someone with... similar circumstances...come in to explain it to you. Would you like to speak with him?" 

Thumbing the edge of the glass, you eye the door, wondering if maybe the man was waiting just on the other side, and what this 'situation' could possibly mean. 

"Well." The man straightens his white coat and moves towards the door. "Whenever you're ready, just let us know and we will arrange for him to come see you." 

He opens the door and a sudden panic sets in. "Wait!" He turns back to face you, his brows raised in question. "Um...I'm ready now. I think." 

Smiling, he motions to someone outside the room and stands out of the way, allowing a taller man to move cautiously through the door. "Take your time." The doctor nods to the new man, smiles reassuringly to you, and then leaves the two of you alone. 

The man seems harmless enough, broad and tall, but there's a softness in his big blue eyes. Something about him makes you feel safe, as cliché as that sounds, something about him just seems...right, in a place where everything has seemed wrong so far. 

"I know how you feel, trust me." He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, and then motions to a chair next to your bed. 

You nod, but remain silent, still feeling skeptical about this whole predicament. 

"Listen, it's strange to be in an unfamiliar world. I know." He takes the seat, and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. "Everything seems wrong, and all you want is answers, and to be able to go home." 

This catches your attention; it's as if he read your mind, taking the words right from your thoughts. "They said that you had 'similar circumstances'." 

He nods solemnly. 

"What circumstances exactly?" You wait patiently for an answer, and when his eyes lock with yours you sense a certain pain. Your face falls. "What happened?..." Your thoughts immediately go to your family, and you search his eyes for any sign of hope. 

"We're not exactly sure what happened, but you were found frozen... in a glacier." 

"A-a glacier? How am I still alive?" You glance around the room nervously, feeling dread at the coming realization. "How long?..." 

"64 years." He sees the despair in your eyes, and gently takes your hand in his own. "Almost as long as I was frozen." 

You jerk your head up, meeting his eyes, feeling your own brim with tears. "Y-you were frozen too?" 

He manages a smile and rubs small circles in the back of your hand with his thumb. "I was in the war, I had to crash a plane into the water. They fished me out as a giant ice cube about 70 years later." 

You hear the hurt in his voice, knowing he lost people, and knowing he needed comfort just as much as you. Placing your other hand over his you introduce yourself properly. 

He chuckles softly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, although the circumstances aren't so great. I'm Steve, Steve Rogers." 

"Pleasure is all mine Mr.Rogers." 

He blushes and glances down to your interlocked hands briefly before returning to your gaze. "Just call me Steve." 

Chapter Text

"Bucky!" You yell, hoping your voice carries in the brisk morning wind as you push your legs to their limit. Ignoring the burn, you push on, barely keeping sight of him as panic start to set in. "Bucky come back!" He finally stops, much to your relief. You slow to a light jog as you near him and notice a strange man kneeled beside him. Feeling your lungs burn in the cold and throat tingle from shouting, you decide against speaking until you come to stand before the two. "Bucky, finally got you, little devil." 

He looks up at you, tilting his head as the man gently pats it, as if questioning what could possibly be wrong with running to a stranger. 

"Is he yours?" The man asks, face downcast towards Bucky and hidden by a baseball cap. 

"Yes." You hear the pride in your voice and can't help but chuckle as you add, "He's a handful, but I love him." 

"He's a handsome little guy." The man gently picks up Bucky, and then brings his gaze to meet yours. 

He's a bit scruffy, but still extremely handsome. He manages a soft smile as he passes Bucky to you, his hands brushing yours briefly and sending a light shock. 

He notices you wince, and jerks his hands away. "Sorry... I-I didn't mean to..uh..sorry..." He turns to walk away, but Bucky wiggles and whimpers softly. 

Pursing your lips, you kiss the top of his head and walk briskly to catch up with the man. "Wait up!" 

He stops suddenly, turning back to face you with a seemingly bewildered look in his eyes. 

"I'm sorry it's just..." You feel Bucky wiggle in attempts to reach the man, and it seems to prove your point. "He really likes you, and that's pretty rare with him. Would you like to have lunch with us?" 

He glances around, as if not believing that the question was actually meant for him. "I uh... I mean..." Bucky whimpers again and continues to struggle in vain attempts to reach the man on his own. The man's shoulders slump, and Bucky has won yet another heart. "I would like that." 

You shift your grip on Bucky and offer a hand to the man, introducing yourself. "And this little ball of energy and teeth...Is my fur baby, Bucky. He's still a puppy so he's a little rebellious, sorry about him running up on you like that. He's never done it before." 


The man stares at the puppy in your arms, and then rubs the back of his neck with a gloved hand as a chuckle escapes his now smiling lips. "Bucky huh? And 'fur baby'?" 

Heat rises in your cheeks. "Yeah, that's what everyone calls him. I treat him like he's my child, which I suppose he kinda is. I spoil him honestly..." You purse your lips and glance down to Bucky, who holds your gaze with his bright green-gold eyes and any resolve you may have felt melts away instantly. Sighing, you turn your attention back to the man. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?" 

He chuckles again. "James Buchanan Barnes, and you're never gonna believe me...but everyone calls me Bucky." 

Chapter Text

“This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 a.m., when The Purge concludes. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all." 

You check the straps on your holsters one more time and shoulder your duffle bag. The siren sounds as you reach your car, and you take a deep breath to remind yourself why you're doing this. You never participated in the Purge before, but this year was different; this year you had nothing to lose. 

It's not long before you hear rapid gunshots. Turning off the lights, you slow the car to a halt, and watch in silence as a man seems to be defending a small group. A large truck opens up, revealing a man with a mounted machine gun. He opens fire, hitting the other man's car and causing the group to dive for cover. A few armored men attempt to grab one of the women, and you curse under your breath as the group struggles to fight back. 

Quietly, you exit your car and inch forward, staying to the shadows as you approach. The man behind the machine gun is down, but the man from the car is still struggling with one of the armored men. Seeing none of the group help him, you rush forward, and jumping up on the armored man you jerk his helmet, the chin strap giving you enough leverage to break his neck. You fall to the ground together, his sudden weight on you taking your breath away. 

You cough, feeling the armored vest poke into your stomach as you attempt to shove off the dead body. The man you saved towers over you, fingering the trigger of his gun lightly as it hangs at his side. He's not sure what to think of you, or where you came from, and you flinch as he reaches down. Suddenly the weight is lifted off your body, and he holds a hand out to you. 

Hesitantly, you take it, feeling him jerk you up and spin you around, his other hand is at your throat, pinning you to his car. "Who the hell are you?" 

One of the women step forward. "Hey, she just saved you." 

He pushes you harder into the car, his fingers twitching slightly and making it harder to breathe. You don't bother struggling, he's much stronger than you, and he could kill you before you could even reach one of your guns. 

"I asked you a question: who are you?" 

You grip at his wrist, your lungs starting to burn as his fingers dig into your flesh. 

"Hey." The other man of the group moves forward, placing a hand on his shoulder in attempts to pull his attention away from you. "Give her some air man, she can't breathe much less talk." 

Sighing in a way that sounds more like a low growl, he gives in, letting go of your neck. 

You lean over, bracing your hands on your knees as you gasp for air between coughs. You manage to rasp out a casual introduction. "I was driving by and heard the shots. Guess I was dumb enough to try and help." You throw the last bit towards the man who you'd saved, the one who'd had his hand around your neck. 

He offers you his hand again, but this time you're not so quick to accept it. Straightening up, you eye him suspiciously, but he keeps his hand out. Rolling your eyes, you take it, thankful that this time he doesn't pin you to his car. "I'm Leo. I guess the stupid is contagious tonight." You quirk a questioning brow, and he motions to the other man and three women. "I stopped to help. Told myself not to get outta the car, but I did, and now it's shot to hell." 

You glance back at his car, bullet holes pierce down the hood and the entire length of its body. "Armor piercing rounds..." 

Leo nods toward the mounted gun in the big truck. "Ever seen anything like this?" 

"No." You shake your head and wince slightly at the pain it causes. Leo purses his lips, noticing the wince as well as how you rub at your neck. "This is my first purge participation honestly..." 

"I'm sorry..." He whispers. 

"It's a voluntary participation I just-" 

"No, I mean..." He looks at your neck before meeting your gaze again. "I'm sorry." 

Nodding curtly, you glance around. "We need to get out of here. The noise will bring a lot of unwanted attention." 

"Yeah well." He motions to his car. "How do you expect we do that?" 

A smile tugs at your lips. "You're gonna love what I have parked just around that corner." 

He smirks, looking you up and down, seeming to notice your tactical gear for the first time. 

Chapter Text

You hear their screams; the screams of strangers, but you are unable to make a sound other than gasping for air. The suffocation chamber seems to be Ajax's new favorite toy, and every second that ticks by seems like an eternity as your lungs beg for relief. 

A sudden heat builds in your chest, slowly spreading through your limbs and up behind your eyes. You attempt to scream, but lack the energy. 

You awake in a regular bed; no straps; no suffocation chamber; no torture. Glancing around nervously, you notice your sister hunched over in a small chair. "A-angel?" You manage to speak, but it's barely audible, and extremely raspy. 

She jerks awake, quickly moving to your beside to caress your cheek. "Hey. Hey it's alright. It's all over." She hands you a glass of water, which you eagerly accept. "Ajax says your mutation manifested, but you blacked out I convinced him to let me bring you up to my room." 

You sip the water and manage a weak smile. "Big sis to the rescue, as always." 

She chuckles, but then her face falls. "I'm sorry." 

Shrugging, you grip her hand, squeezing it in reassurance. "You went through the same thing." 

There's a knock at the door, "Come in." She calls, refusing to leave your side. 

Ajax enters, his features seeming more clear now; his eyes shining a brighter blue, but there was something empty about them that you never noticed before. He motions for Angel to leave. She squeezes your hand, and reluctantly moves toward the door, giving Ajax a warning glare before leaving the two of you alone. 

"So." He takes her seat, offering a friendly smile. "How are you feeling?" 

You study him briefly, feeling him. "You don't have to pretend with me." You say flatly, catching him off guard. 

"Excuse me?" 

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to pretend to care, or to feel...anything." It's no secret that he can't physically feel, his nerve endings were all fried, but his emotions...You never noticed before, but it couldn't be more clear now, every 'emotion' from him was forced and fake. 

His expression goes blank. "I suppose you've got it all figured out then?" 

Shrugging, you finish off your water. 

Realizing you're not in a talkative mood, he leaves, sending your sister back in. 

"Have you figured out your mutation yet?" She asks once she's sure Ajax has left. 

You shake your head. "No clue. Things seem brighter, but that's about it." 

The next few days go by without incident. You pretty much keep to yourself, hoping your mutation will surface somehow. Angel's mutation was her strength, which she was able to feel and use immediately, as was the case with most of the subjects Ajax 'coaxed' into their mutations. You felt a slight pang of jealousy; your mutation hadn't shown itself yet. 

You sigh, sitting down with a book. Angel was watching a new recruit who seemed to be a bit of a loud mouth, so you were left to entertain yourself for the night. 

"I see you're being...productive." 

Rolling your eyes, you choose to ignore Ajax as he comes to stand before you. He pushes your book lightly with his finger, tilting it enough to read the cover. "Can I help you?" 

He smirks; he always smirks at your sarcastic quips. "You can show me your mutation." 

You shut the book impatiently and stand in a huff, not completely aware of how close you are to Ajax as you glare up at him narrowly. "I, more than anyone, would love to know what it is. So back off! Franc-" 

"Don't! Even think about it." He growls, cutting you off before you can throw his real name in his face. "I think that you know your mutation, but don't want to show it. I think it's something useless, and you're scared of being cast aside; scared of being nothing compared to your sister; scared that she got the good genes and you got stuck with nothi-" 

You slap him, hard. You don't care that he can't feel, the slap was more for yourself than him, and you admittedly felt better. 

He turns his head back to face you, a strange look on his face as his brows knit together. You feel a sudden need to get away from him, unsure what he has in store for you. In an attempt to back away, you trip over the chair. 

He catches you, one arm around your waist and the other gripping your wrist. Before you can question him, he brings your hand to his cheek. Hesitantly, and gently, he presses your hand to his face, breathing out in a soft groan and closing his eyes. "How?" He whispers. 

You attempt to pull your hand away, but he holds your wrist firmly, opening his eyes only in warning before moving your hand along his jaw. It clicks suddenly, and your brows raise in disbelief as your eyes lock. "You...?" 

He smiles what may be the first real smile you've ever seen from him, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips as he pulls your body flush with his own. Your hands now voluntarily cup his cheeks. "I can feel you..." 

Chapter Text

You kick off your heels immediately upon entering the apartment, letting out a sigh of relief as you feel the soft rug between your toes. Teddy watches you, an air of confusion about him underneath the usual statuesque stoicism. "I will never understand why women wear such things." 

You smile, padding over to stand before him. Without the heels you are forced to look up him, which works to your advantage as you grip his tie, giving it a playful tug and biting your lip suggestively. "Didn't you like my heels Teddy? How they gave a little extra perk to my ass?" 

He remains silent, the muscles of his jaw flexing slightly as you continue to play with his tie. 

"That's why I wear them." You state simply, giving him a light push as you back away with a shrug. "They give me a little something extra; a little more power and control, especially over men." 

He purses his lips, studying you a little closer as you collect your bags and pad into the living room area. Taking a seat, you pull out a file and spread its contents on the table before you, motioning for Teddy to take a seat at the chair next to you. 

He studies the photos. "Where did you get these?" 

"Does it really matter where I got them?" You feel his eyes on you, but ignore him in favor of reviewing the photos. "We both work for Pushkin; we both have access to his resources. You're not as special as you may think Teddy." 

You chance a glance in his direction and notice the edge of his lips turned up in amusement. Maybe having a partner wouldn't be as bad as you'd thought. 

"This one." You push a single photo towards him, your fingers brushing briefly as he pulls the photo closer. Clearing your throat and regaining your train of thought, you pull your hand back. "This man entered but never came back out." 

He pulls a phone from his pocket, dialing Pushkin and putting him on speaker. From the little time you've spent with him, you can tell Teddy likes to take the lead, so you let him. Grabbing your bag, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, deciding a long hot shower is exactly what you need after the number that long plane ride did on your back. 

The water eases some of the tension in your muscles, allowing you to relax your shoulders and forget about the case, if only for a few minutes. The sound of Teddy's voice pulls you back to reality. Sighing, you step out and grab a towel, ruffling it through your hair as you attempt to listen in on the phone call. He's speaking a mix of English and Russian, but your Russian say the least, so you only catch bits and pieces of the conversation. All you can tell is that he's speaking to Pushkin about the case, when you suddenly hear your name thrown in. 

You dress quickly, throwing on a loose fitting shirt and a pair of shorts; you had been dressed up long enough today, it was time to relax in more casual attire. You pad back to the living room, still running a towel through your hair as you round the corner to see Teddy. He doesn't notice, but your gait falters slightly at the sight of his exposed tattoos. Most Russians in this line of work had them, of course, so you assumed he would as well, but you never expected to enjoy the view so much. 

He drags his finger lazily across the screen of his phone, hanging up on Pushkin and returning his full attention to the photos still strewn about the table. Finally ripping your eyes away, you move to the kitchen, rummaging through each cabinet until you finally find what you're looking for. Sighing, you glare up at the teacups through narrowed eyes. Using the countertop for support, you stretch towards the shelf, but it remains just out of reach. Releasing a huff of frustration, you hike one leg up on the counter, and ignore the feel of your shirt hiking up as you attempt to reach once more. 

A sudden heat at your back startles you, causing you to drop both feet back to the floor and spin around. Teddy chuckles as you nearly bump into his bare chest, and moves closer until you feel the counter at your back. Your breath hitches; his face is only inches from yours. Without breaking eye contact, he reaches behind you to pull down a teacup, which he then sets on the counter beside you. 

"Thanks." You mumble, wishing you could break away from his gaze, but not having the will power to do so. 

"You're welcome." He turns, giving you full view of his tattoo covered back as he returns to his seat in the living room. 

You regain your composure long enough to put the tea on, and move back around the corner, resisting the urge to look at Teddy as you grab your bags and take them down the hall. Keeping an ear open for the tea, you twist the handle and push the door open with your hip, surveying the room as you drop your bags. "Shit..." 

A sudden whistle sounds from the kitchen, and you quickly pad back towards it. Turning off the heat and carefully filling your cup, you bring it with you to the living room. Teddy glances up briefly, watching you cross your legs as you take your seat on the couch. You blow on your tea, avoiding acknowledging him as his eyes rake over you. 

He turns his attention back to his computer; the absence of his gaze allowing you to relax. "So." You finally speak up, leaning forward to set your cup on the table to cool. "About this sleeping situation." 

He shuts the computer, "Yes. I thought you would bring that up." 

"It's a large enough bed." You watch as he quirks a brow in a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Until we make other arrangements, of course." 

The edge of his lips twitch. "You are sure?" 

You shrug. "I think I can keep my hands to myself for one night." 

He chuckles softly, a genuine smile reaching his eyes. "Is that so?" 

You reach for your tea as you stand, taking it with you as you move towards the bedroom. "Got you to laugh didn't it?" 

Chapter Text

I apologize for this not being an actual chapter, however, I was reported once again and informed that I needed to remove any tags that I had not yet written chapters for. I removed said tags and just didn't want any of my readers to think that I had abandoned them. I will still be getting to more tags, and requests are welcome! Things will be settling down soon and I will have time to write more frequently. I do apologize again!

Chapter Text

You stare at the computer screen, finger hovering hesitantly as you move the mouse over the 'accept' button. 

"Don’t you dare back out now." Your roommate leans over your shoulder, startling you briefly. 

Sitting back in your seat with a sigh, you direct a soft smile towards her. "I'm just not sure about this. They don’t even list the owner's information, only that the house photos and their agent's number." 

She narrows her eyes. "Well what did the agent say? Please tell me you at least called, you really need this vacation and I'm not letting you talk your way out of going." 

"They told me they weren't supposed to say who the owner was." You shake your head and move to close out the page, but she slaps your hand away and quickly clicks 'accept'. "Erin! That's not funny! What did you just do?!" In hopes of canceling the request you turn off your computer, but your phone dings almost immediately with an email notification confirming your trip. 

Erin crosses her arms defiantly, a satisfied smirk spread across her face. "There, now you have to go. Do you need help packing?" 

"That's not funny! What if the owner is psychotic?" You stand with exasperation, shoulders slumped and hands still clutching your phone. 

"You're going to be fine." She takes your phone and  forces you to look her in the eyes. "You're going to Ireland, regardless of the owner it'll be worth it. Besides, it's a separate cottage, maybe you won't even see the owner." 




You pull your luggage up to the door, pausing briefly to check behind one of the potted plants for the key the agent said would be hidden for you. The inside is beautiful, decorated like a classic cottage with modern amenities. 

After unpacking you call Erin as promised, "Hey girl, just calling to let you know I made it." 

"Hey!" She practically screams through the phone. "I've been dying to hear from you, how is everything? Is it as beautiful as the photos? Have you met the owner yet?" 

A knock sounds at the door, cutting off your answer. "Hang on Erin." You carefully peek out one of the windows, but can only see the back of a tall man standing at the doorstep. "There's someone at the door, don’t hang up I'll only be a second." Still holding the phone you open the door, "Hello, how can I -" The words catch in your throat as the man turns to face you. 

"How's it going there? I saw you come in but wanted to give you some time to settle in before proper introducing myself. I'm the owner, Colin." He holds out his hand which you take shakily and offer your name, to which he responds with a smile before bringing your knuckles to meet his lips. "Beautiful name for a beautiful lass." Heat rises in your cheeks as he presses your hand to his lips one more time before releasing it. "I'm sure you understand why I avoid listing who I am." 

"O-of course." You struggle to sort your words, feeling more flustered every time he speaks in that thick accent and flashes that smile. "it’s a good way to deter crazed fans I suppose. I almost didn’t come to be honest, it made me a bit nervous." 

"Well lucky me you decided to come." He glances at your phone and furrows his brows. "I'm so sorry I didn't realize I was interrupting." 

"Oh. No, it's fine. Just one second." Bringing your phone back to your ear, Erin's voice screeches. 

"Answer me!" 

"Erin! Erin. It's fine I'm right here, I'll call you back okay?" You move hang up, but she starts flipping out again. 

"Wait!!! Who was the voice I heard? He sounds hot, oh my god is that the owner? Is he hot?" She rambles on, cutting off any attempt you make to speak. 

You give up and end the call. "Sorry about that." You turn back to Colin, feeling the heat return to your cheeks as his lips turn up in a grin. "My roommate back home was just checking in on me." 

His shoulders seem to relax and his grin widens. "Roommate? I wasn't quite sure when you said Erin if you might'a had a fella." 

"Nope, no fella." 

He runs a hand back through his hair and glances back towards the main house before meeting your eyes again with his intense, dark gaze, sending a shiver down your spine that only intensifies when he asks, "Would you like to join me for dinner?" 

Chapter Text

There's a light pang in your head as you bump into someone, causing their papers to be strewn about on the ground. You instantly crouch and start picking them up, reading a few in the process. A larger, more timid pair of hands hesitantly move to pick up the rest of the papers, seeming to avoid touching yours in the process. 

You look up, seeing the same face you must have seen a thousand times on this very street, but you had never really taken the time to engage. "I'm so sorry." Your voice seems to startle him, as though he was trying to avoid acknowledging your existence at all. He doesn’t look up, but his hands stop moving and he tucks his head down further. Picking up the last few remaining papers, you stand, as does he while still keeping his gaze cast downward. "Here." You hold the papers out to him. 

He stares at your outstretched hand, uncertainty written plain across his face as he briefly glances up. You offer a soft smile, to which he responds by tucking in his chin again and reaching for the pages. His fingers gently brush against yours, causing him to flinch away. 

You move closer, your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. You could only assume that you had accidentally shocked him when your fingers touched. 

"I didn’t mean to." He muttered, seeming to almost cower before you. "I'm sorry." 

"Sorry for what? Did I accidentally shock you? I promise it wasn’t on purpose." You grip his shoulder lightly and smile at him, hoping to comfort him. 

"I didn’t meant to touch you." His eyes dart briefly to yours. 

Your heart aches for him. You hear what people call him; see how people treat him; see how his mother treats him... It brings your blood to a boil, but before you can say anything, you notice him start to shake and realize he must think your anger is directed towards him. Slowly, and gently, you slide your hand under his chin to meet his gaze. "Do you have a name handsome?" 

His cheeks flush a deep red as he nods curtly. "Credence. Credence Barebone." 

"Well Credence." You slide your hand from beneath his chin, holding it out to introduce yourself in return, which he hesitantly accepts. "It's lovely to meet you. Although, I really am sorry about bumping into you. Are you alright?" 


It's as if no one has ever asked him that before. His brows knit together as he seems to ponder what it may mean. 


He blinks a few times and nods. "I'm alright." 

"Credence, I have to go, but I would like to make this up to you." Chewing at your lip, you feel a bit strange in asking, "Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?" 

His eyes widen as he looks around, searching as though trying to see where your friends are hiding for this cruel prank you're attempting to pull. 

"Credence." You move closer, gently brushing your hand against his cheek. "I'm serious. I want to help you... not just because of today." 

"Ma wouldn’t like that..." He glances around again, this time nervous that she may be near. 

"You don’t ever have to go back to her again Credence, not if you don’t want to." You kiss his cheek softly, noticing how his eyes remain closed as you pull away. He was so deprived of affection, and it hurt you to your core. He leans into your hand as you caress his cheek. Whether it was voluntary or not, you're unsure. You allow your lips to linger as you press one more kiss to his cheek, feeling that he doesn’t want you to end the contact. "I hope you will let me help you Credence." 




Credence didn’t come with you, but your sister Tina had tried her best to save him. Part of you believed he was still out there somewhere, that he got away somehow. You would even swear up and down that you had seen him out of the corner of your eye from time to time. 

A year went by, and things settled down into a somewhat normal routine. Tina and Newt wrote each other regularly, and he was planning a visit soon. Queenie had found a bit of a loop-hole around the whole memory wipe situation with Jacob, although they were still careful about their relationship being too public. 

And you.... you had decided it was time to finally continue on with your plans. 

"I'm moving." You announced calmly. 

Silence filled the room as everyone stopped mid-action. 

Tina spoke first, moving towards you slowly as her eyes glassed over. "Why?" 

Queenie smiles at you softly, already knowing the answer. "She wants to follow in Newt's footsteps." 




It only took a few months to get settled into your own place, and to set up enough charms to turn one of your rooms into a larger version of Newt's suitcase. 

You were still seeing him, even more frequently now. One night you awoke from a nightmare, and saw him standing at the end of your bed. You had reached for the light, but when you turned back, he was gone. It was getting worse... 

You toyed with the idea of telling your sisters, maybe even telling Newt, but something inside of you liked seeing him … even if you knew he wasn’t really there. 




You wake with a start, your heart pounding as you strain your eyes to see in the dark room while your hand fumbles at your lamp. 

Light fills the room. Every inch except.... one small corner on the far side of your ceiling. 

There's a bubbly, mist like mass that seems to be made of shadows. It slowly lowers to the floor and creeps along, inching closer to your bed. The mass seems to have tendrils that stretch towards you and up, forming some kind of shape at the side of your bed. 

Logically, fear would be the elicited response, but for some reason you feel yourself drawn to the mass as it grows more solid until, "Credence?.." 

He stands just before you, the mist now completely gone, leaving a very different looking Credence before you than the cowering young man you bumped into on the streets. 

You're seeing him while you're awake now.... it's not just dreams anymore, they're full on hallucinations. 

He moves towards you, caressing your cheek, causing you to gasp and jerk away. This seems to hurt his feelings. "It's me.." He slowly reaches his hand towards you again. 

You sit up, moving to your knees so that you're at eye level with him as you reach hesitantly towards him. 

His skin feels warmer than you remember. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes as you bring both of your hands to either side of his face. 

Letting out a sigh, he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. 

"I knew you made it." You run your hands up through his hair, gently coaxing him to pull away so that you can look him in the eyes. He meets your wide grin with one of his own, probably the first real smile you had ever seen from him. 

"I wanted to come with you... But Ma, she-" 

"Shhh." You brush a finger over his lips and move closer, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. "You safe now, that’s all that matters." 

"I saw you looking for me..." He squeezes you, his attention deprivation still apparent. "I was scared that you would be mad I stayed away so long... I just couldn’t. … I was too tired. I think it was my...." He trails off, searching your eyes for something. 

"Your obscurus was healing you Credence, I don’t know how, but you're here now. I'm so happy that you're here now." You squeeze him gently in return before meeting his eyes again, which seems to be all the answer he was looking for. 

His eyes dart to your lips. 

Before you can say anything, he gently presses his lips to yours. You go rigid, unsure how to react until he pulls away slightly with a somewhat hurt look in his eyes. He moves to leave, but you catch the collar of his jacket, pulling him back into the kiss. 

His hands go to your hips, and you feel his heart beating out of his chest as he deepens the kiss. You run one of your hands up through his hair, earning a soft groan from him. 

Pulling away in concern, you try to calm yourself. "We can stop if you want, we don’t have to-" 

He cuts off your sentence by pushing you down on the bed, his weight soon resting on top of you. His lips find yours again as his hands explore your body. 

You feel his breathing getting heavy as you slide your leg along his, bringing it to wrap around his waist. His hand goes to your thigh, causing you to moan and grip his hair. He squeezes your ass, his hips seeming to roll into yours on their own accord in response to your moan, causing a louder one to follow. 

He rocks his hips again, to which you grip his hair and roll your own hips up. A low growl of a groan sounds deep in his throat, sending a chill down your spine as he looks at you with those lust-filled eyes. You bite your lip, wondering how long this dominant side of Credence had been lurking beneath the surface as he rips your shirt open. 


Chapter Text

Emma walks into Granny's, seeing everyone gathered around in a circle around the counter. "Hey, what's everyone looking at?" The crowd parts slightly, allowing Emma to see who the big fuss was about. "Red? Is that really you?" 

Red smiles, moving in to embrace Emma's hug. 

Emma pulls back, happy to see her friend, but surprise showing clearly on her face. "What are you doing here? I thought you decided to stay with Dorothy?" 

Red's smile falters, and Snow moves forward to place a comforting hand on her shoulder as she looks to Emma. "She sensed something new to Storybrooke, she thinks it's-" 

"No." Red speaks up. "I'm certain of it..." She leans in closer to Emma, almost whispering as a sly smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "There's a werewolf in town." 

"How could that have happened?" Emma's brows knit together. "There hasn’t been anyone new in town." 

"Actually." August's voice sounds, breaking into the conversation and causing everyone to turn towards him as he makes his way forward to stand beside Emma. "There's been someone staying at the cabin towards the edge of the woods." 

"Are you serious? Why didn’t you say anything?" Emma breathes with an air of exasperation. 

August shrugs. "I honestly didn’t think anything of it, they’ve been keeping to themselves." 

"Well," Emma moves towards the door. "Let's go say hello." 

Red nods in excitement as she trails after Emma, a curious August right on their heels. 




You sniff the air, tilting your head in slight confusion. Moving toward the window, you see a yellow bug pulling up, followed by a motorcycle. Sighing, you reluctantly shuffle towards the door, knowing this time had to come sooner or later. 

Opening the door, you're greeted by 3 figures, all poised and ready to knock. 

They squirm uncomfortably under your silent gaze for what seems like several minutes before one of them offers their hand in introduction, which you accept. 

"My name is Emma Swan. I'm the Sherriff. I just wanted to come by and welcome you to the town." She smiles somewhat awkwardly before continuing. "And um... This is Red, and August." She points to them both respectively as she introduces them. 

"What can I do for you Emma?" You ask, taking a very blunt tone, only made polite by your slightly sarcastic smile. 

"Actually we-" 

"I did." Red speaks up, interrupting Emma. "I felt you, sensed you were here. I've been looking for so long." 

You look her over, scrunching your nose up slightly. "Why would you want to find me?" 

She seems to squirm under your scrutiny, which makes you smirk. She's obviously never had a pack before, or even been around her own kind really, but her basic instincts are there. She senses what you are, even if she isn't fully aware of it. 

"I....I just..." She struggles somewhat to speak directly to you, casting a pleading glance to Emma. 

"She thinks you're another werewolf, like her." 

"So?" You shrug your shoulders, leaning back slightly as you begin to shut the door. "If there's nothing else Sherriff." 

"Actually." A boot shoots forward, blocking the door from closing fully. Emma peaks through the gap until you reluctantly swing it open again. "I wanted to see if you needed any food. Or supplies. Anything really, whatever the town can do to make you feel welcome." 

"I'm fine, thanks." You shut the door quickly, locking it behind you before padding away to ignore the knocking coming from the other side. 

"She doesn’t want to talk to us..." Red sighs, turning to leave. 

"Hey," Emma moves to her side, stepping in line with her stride. "What was that? You just froze up." 

They both come to a stop beside Emma's car, Red's brows furrowed and lips pursed. "I felt something strange, not quite scared but.... I almost wanted to curl up and not say a word. Granny told me stories about packs, how there's always an alpha; a leader to the pack that everyone answers to." 

August glances towards the cabin. "You think she's an alpha?" 

Emma steps toward the cabin. "Well let's find out." 

August grabs her, pulling her back to the car. "I really don’t think that’s such a great idea." 

"Why not?" 

"I think she would see it as a challenge. I think..." He sighs and scratches at his stubble absently, glancing back at the cabin. "I think there's an easier way to get her talking." 

"And what would that be August?" Emma sighs with exasperation, her tone dripping with sarcasm. 

He returns the sarcasm. "Being nice, maybe?" 




The next day, you hear another knock at your door. Groaning to yourself, you slowly make your way over to answer. It's August, the man from yesterday. You're fully prepared to yell at him to leave, when you realize he's alone, and carrying a basket. 

He notices your gaze and smiles, chuckling softly as he raises the basket to hold at chest level. "I brought a little welcoming gift. You seem to like your space so I can just leave it on the table if you like?" He motions inside, to which you oblige by stepping out of the way. 

Before you realize what you're doing, he's already in your kitchen setting the basket on the dinning table and unloading its contents. 

"I wasn’t sure exactly what you like, so I asked Red for some tips on some things and went with my gut for others." He smiles up at you as you watch him silently. "If you don’t like any of it, I promise I won't take it personally." 

You feel the edge of your lips twitch up briefly, which he seems to catch. 

The table is full of different foods that will last you weeks; there's even tea and coffee. 

"Well," He grins at the table, satisfied with the bounty he provided as he scoops up his now empty basket. "I better get going." 

You keep your eyes on the table as he makes his way towards the door. "Wait." 

He pauses, glancing back with the door half open. 

"Would you like to stay for some coffee?" Turning to face him, you see a soft grin playing across his features as he shuts the door. 

You motion to the table, where he sits as you brew the coffee. Turning to face him again as you wait for the brew to finish, you find that you have a hard time meeting his gaze. It's a matter of pride for you that you have always been able to stare down anyone; nothing intimidates you. But something about this man's eyes made your cheeks burn hot and stomach turn in knots. 

The coffee pot beeps, and you pour 2 cups of coffee before handing one to him. His hand brushes over yours lightly, his fingers seeming to linger as you glance up to find his eyes searching yours. You move away, leaning back against the counter to sip your own cup of coffee. 

Somehow one cup of coffee turns into a full dinner. Your awkward silence turns into a conversation lasting well into the night. He even cracks a few corny jokes, earning a your laughter, at which he sees a glimmer in your eyes that he can't quite recall being there before. Something about that causes a warmth to his cheeks and a tightness in his chest. 

Chapter Text

You shove your cell phone deep into your clutch, feeling extremely overdressed and agitated as you stare up at the horrible bathroom lighting. With an exasperated huff you push forward, moving through the doors into a sea of dancing bodies. Pulling your clutch in closer, you squirm through the crowd towards the bar, attempting to gain a vantage point. 

Sitting on an empty stool, you find some comfort in the fact that the bar seems relatively empty compared to the overflowing dance floor. 

Your phone vibrates. 

Pulling it from your clutch, you thumb the screen, seeing your boyfriend's name before the message opens asking where you went. You swype a quick response letting him know you had gone to splash your face in the bathroom and had found a calm seat at the bar, to which he replies that he will come find you in a minute. 

You shove the phone back in your clutch, sighing in discontent as you watch the sweaty mass of drunk people. Shaking your head, you silently wonder why your boyfriend would ever want to hangout in a place like this. 

Time seems to tick by slowly as the next song starts playing, which honestly sounds exactly the same as the last. You check your phone again to find no new messages. 

Spinning the stool somewhat, you face the bar, resting your head in your heads as you try to wait patiently. 

You jump slightly when you feel a warm hand brush against your forearm, and look up to see a big pair of the blue-est eyes you've ever seen staring back at you. Their owner flashes you an apologetic grin. 

"I'm sorry." He takes your hands in his as he leans forward against the bar, bringing those blue orbs even closer. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright, I guess you really zoned out there." 

You glance down to where his hands are resting, his thumbs brushing against your knuckles. He's wearing several rings and quite a few bracelets, which lead your eyes up to his tattooed forearms, back up to that grin and his icey blues. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, his brows furrowing slightly in concern. "Here..." He moves briefly, the absence of his warm hands making you feel strangely sad before he places a glass of water in front of you. "On the house. I promise all I did was put a lemon and some mint in it." 

You can't help but return the flirty smile he flashes. "Thanks, you didn’t have to do that." 

"So she speaks!" He jokes, earning a soft blush in your cheeks. Raising an eyebrow, he seems to take your somewhat shy demeanor as either encouragement or a challenge. "So how does a girl looking like you end up sitting at a bar by herself?" 

You cock your head to the side, searching his eyes as you notice the constant grin plastered across your face. "Does that line actually work for you?" 

He quirks his brow again, "I've never used it before, so you tell me? Did it work?" 

Something inside of you sparks, a certain level of bold comfort replacing your previously shy demeanor as you rest your elbows on the bar to lean against. His eyes search yours as he waits for you to answer the question. "Who says I'm by myself?" 

His smile falters briefly as he glances around the dance floor before returning his gaze to yours. "Are you?" 

Something about this man brings out your playful side. You take his hand, gently pulling it closer and turning it over so that his palm is facing up. He watches you curiously as you trace over the lines of his forearm tattoos, causing a subtle shiver that you pretend not to notice. "I came with my boyfriend to meet up with some of his friends, but he's not ready to leave yet." 

You glance up, noticing how his eyes seem to fixate on your lips briefly. His voice sounds huskier as you begin to lightly trace the lines with your fingernails. "Are you ready to leave?" 

"Well I came here with him, so unless you're offering to give me a ride then-" 

"What if I am?" He interrupts. 

You chuckle softly and gently move to his other arm, feeling somewhat triumphant as you cause the same subtle shiver effect again. "I don’t even know your name. How can I trust a stranger to get me home safe?" 

"My name is Patrick." He glances at the watch on his free wrist. "And I was officially off about 2 minutes ago." 

He waits patiently, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. You're feeling playful again as you take your bottom lip between your teeth, letting it slide out slowly as if waging an internal debate. You can feel his pulse quicken as you slowly slide your hand up his forearm, allowing yourself a flirtatious grin as you lean in a little closer. "Patrick, you said?" 

Seemingly unable to speak he just nods softly. You decide to tell him your name. "Beautiful name, just like I figured it would be." 

You roll your eyes jokingly and he laughs, which is about the time you realize you're genuinely having fun in a club with a complete stranger – a bartender no less. 

He opens his mouth to speak but something stops him as he glances just over your shoulder. You feel someone's hand on the small of your back. "It's time to go babe." You resist the urge to gag as you smell various liquors on your boyfriend's breath. 

"So you're ready now? And it only took...." You gently turn Patrick's wrist to glance at his watch before returning your attention to your boyfriend. "Only 30 minutes of waiting." You plaster a fake smile across your face, your words dripping with agitated sarcasm. 

He furrows his brows in confusion as he glances down at the way you were touching Patrick's arm. "I said it's time to go." He grips your wrist, but you pull back, refusing to go with him. 

"You're drunk, so there is no way in hell I'm getting in a car with you right now." 

He scoffs. "Then how do you plan to get home sweetheart?" 

"Patrick offered to give me a ride." You try to hold back the smile tugging at your lips as your boyfriend glares at a somewhat uncomfortable - yet oddly pleased of himself - Patrick. You stand from the stool, moving past your boyfriend to meet Patrick where he comes out from behind the bar. "Ready to go?" 

He glances back at your boyfriend, obviously trying to hide a smirk underneath a mask of fake concern. "You sure?" 

"I can find another ride if-" 

"Alright, alright. Point made." He chuckles, finally letting that sexy smirk play across his features as he places a hand on the small of your back to lead you through the crowd. 

As soon as you exit the building and round the corner to the parking lot, he moves his arm to rest around your shoulders, using his free hand to fish his keys from one of his pant's pockets. 

You both walk in silence towards what you assume is a joke. You glance between him and the car, trying not to show any emotion as he clicks the button on his keys, unlocking the door which he opens for you to get in. Quickly buckling your seatbelt, you try to concentrate on anything other than the car until he moves around and takes his place in the driver's seat. He slides the key in the ignition, a deep growl sounding as the engine turns over, causing you to grip the seat. 

Your new demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed. "What's wrong?" He asks. 

"Nothing." You shake your head, smiling softly. "It's a nice car." 

He scans your face. "I feel like I'm missing something here... Are you one of those people that just hates Mustangs?" 

You chuckle somewhat sarcastically and mutter, "The opposite actually..." 

He quirks a brow in your direction as he tests out this new information by slightly revving the engine. 

You can't help but to grip the seat again, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks as he shifts the car into gear. "Well this should be a fun trip." He chuckles, obviously enjoying the effect his car has on you. 

He hands you his phone, where you type in your address for the navigation before handing it back. 

The drive starts out rather quiet, especially since you're trying to concentrate on keeping your breathing even. One of the things you love about being a passenger is being able to watch the street lights pass by, it calms your nerves, and in this case calms your hormones. That is, until you feel a familiar warm hand slide along your knee, resting on your mid thigh in a surprisingly sweet way. 

He glances over at you, and you share a flirty smile as he squeezes your thigh playfully. 

You arrive at your house quickly, the drive actually seeming shorter than either of you would have preferred. "Thanks for the ride." You smile softly at him as you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over to kiss him on the cheek. 

He almost seems caught by surprise, but before you can say anything he quickly gets out and opens your car door for you, offering his hand to help you to get out. You thank him again, which seems to make him blush, something you had yet to see all night. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks you to your front door, seeming somewhat shy compared to his actions leading up to this point. 

"Well oddly enough, I actually had fun." You say, a chuckle sounding in your voice as he shares your smile. "Maybe we should hangout again sometime?" 

He glances towards his car and clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak but shutting it again as he turns to search your eyes for something. 

You nod curtly and offer a soft smile. "No worries. Thanks for the rescue though I really do appreciate it." 

You move to unlock the door, keys in hand, but he blocks you. "Listen, I had fun to it's just that.... I mean your boyfriend and.... I just..." He shrugs, running his hand back through his hair with an air of defeat. 

"EX." You shrug back. 


You let out a lengthy sigh followed by a slightly tired chuckle. "I actually sent him a break up text before we even left the club. I figured it was easier to do than trying to break up with a drunk guy in person." 

He stays quiet, his eyes still searching yours. 

"Well it's getting late so I think I'm-" 

His lips crash onto yours, one of his hands finding its way to caress your neck as the other moves to the small of your back. You can't hold back the soft moan that escapes your lips as he turns slightly to pin you between him and your front door. 

Chapter Text

You hear them scratching at the door and moving all around the perimeter of the house, looking for a way in. Loading your gun with the last of the bullets, you decide to take as many of those damn vampires with you as you can. 

You stand in line with the door, leaving a few feet distance, and bring the barrel up to await your fate. 

The scratching suddenly stops, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. Your entire body throbs with each beat of your panicked heart as you slowly inch forward toward the door, straining to make out even a single sound from the other side. 

The door bursts open, leaving only the moonlit silhouette of a man peering in at you as you fall back onto the floor. 

You feel a sense of relief at his presence, but something passes behind him that catches your eye. He steps forward, moving closer to you. Something feels off about him, and your eyes are again drawn past the door and out into the open; something darting back and forth. You squint your eyes, making out several shapes in the distance. 

Your heart drops and stomach twists in knots as you shake your head, finally realizing that the forms in the distance are hordes of vampires. 

The man takes another large step, coming to stand before you with an outstretched hand. His eyes are hidden by a downturned hat, but you can still see his lips twitch up in a wicked smile. "Let me help you up darlin'." 

Pushing his hand away, you manage to scramble to your feet on your own, earning a chuckle from the man who seems oddly entertained by the entire situation. 

"Who are you?" The question comes out shakier than you would've liked, but the feel of your gun in your hand gives you some sense of comfort as you raise it. 

This only seems to amuse him further as he inches forward, every step he takes closer is a step you back away until you feel the wall at your heels. 

He smiles and places one hand beside you on the wall, almost leaning over you as he lifts his head to reveal his golden-amber eyes. "If you really wanna shoot me," He leans in closer, his face inches from yours as he uses his other hand to guide you, placing the barrel of your gun to his chest just over his heart, "then you need to shoot right here." 

He watches you, seeming to enjoy the obvious inner struggle you're having. You feel him shift closer, and notice his lips part slightly as you try to look away, unintentionally exposing your neck. 

Heart pounding, you cock the gun and hesitantly push the barrel harder against his chest in attempts to make him back away. He only chuckles, but this time it's deeper; more of a growling lustful sound as his lips ghost along the skin of your neck. 

Your body betrays you with goosebumps and a light shiver, neither of which go unnoticed as he hums deeply with smug satisfaction. 

The gun clicks as you pull the trigger and he pins your hand roughly to the wall, causing you to drop the gun, his other hand finding its way to your neck as he looks you in the eyes. A low growl rumbles in his chest, as his brows furrow together in a mix of anger and surprise. 

"Now why would you go and do that?" 

You struggle in vain against his strong grip, but he only presses his entire body against you, pinning you to the wall as he increases pressure on your neck. "You knew it would jam." It's more of an accusation than a question, something tells you it had been a test. 

His smile tells you your assumptions are correct. 

The cloud coverage seems to clear, letting in more moonlight, allowing you to notice his fangs for the first time. You struggle against him again. "What the hell are you?" 

He pushes himself harder against you, earning a soft – definitely unintentional – moan from you. 

You feel your cheeks heat up as he quirks a brow. "I'm the future sweetheart." 

His lips brush against yours, testing your reaction as he loosens his grip on your neck. Your body betrays you again by arching into him. He smirks, biting his bottom lip slightly exposing his fangs, which for some reason seems to coerce another small moan from between your lips to both of your surprise. 

"Does it excite you?" He rubs his hand along your slender neck, keeping a gentle pressure to force you to look at him. "I think it excites you knowing I could kill you right now. I think you like being manhandled a little. I think you like to pretend to fight but really want to be shown who you belong to." You try to look away, but he won't let you. "Tell me I'm right." 

You clench your jaw. "I don't belong to anyone, so go fuck yourself." 

A low growl rumbles in his chest again as he briefly increases pressure on your neck, using his other hand to grip your waist so that he can situate more between your legs before he picks you up. Your damn body can't stay on the same page as your brain with your legs wrapping around his hips automatically and letting out a whimper as he pushes you back up against the wall. 

He grips your ass, his other hand sliding up from your neck to tangle in your hair. Your hips involuntarily roll against him. 

"Tell me I'm right." He whispers against your lips. 

"Fuck you." You try to push him off half-heartedly, to which he chuckles. 

"Give in baby," He rolls his hips, causing you to gasp and lean your head back, exposing your neck to him. You feel his cock twitch in response and bite your bottom lip, leaving your neck exposed for him to lick along the length of your vein slowly making you moan. His breathing is heavy in your ear, obviously trying to restrain himself as he whispers to you, "I can take you away from here, show you things, just give in. Tell me I'm right." He rocks his hips again, groaning softly in your ear as you tug at his hips. "Tell me who you belong to baby." 

Your resolve fades, giving way to lust and the realization that he read you like an open book. He knows what you crave, even if you didn’t know for yourself that you wanted this. He can kill you easily, and that excites you. He takes charge of your body, handling you the way you need without you having to ask. Most men treat you like a rare china doll, like they will break you, but the way he touches you... 

His hips rock against you again, breaking your chain of thought, and before you know it the words fall from your lips breathlessly, "I'm yours." 

He growls, crashing his lips onto yours. Your rake your fingers up through his hair, pushing his hat off. He deepens the kiss and you feel small, brief sting when your tongue catches one of his fangs. He breaks the kiss, waiting for your reaction as he hesitantly licks your blood from his lips. 

"Please." You whimper, not entirely sure what you're asking for, but knowing you need something from him. 

He seems to understand and glances to your neck. "I need you to tell me again." 

You tug at his hair and nip at his bottom lip, feeling impatient, but he grips your hair roughly. 

"Tell me again." He repeats. 

"I'm yours." You whimper, feeling your head tilt back but not quite sure why you're exposing your neck to him like this. "Please." You still aren't sure what you're asking, but his lips trailing soft kisses along your jaw and down to the sensitive crook in your neck feels like a move in the right direction. 

His breathing seems uneven as he licks your throbbing neck vein, your tightened grip on his hair seeming to urge him on as his kisses get rougher. 

You use your other hand to tug at his hips and lean your head further over to give him more access. "Please." Another whimper escapes your lips, causing him to growl with lust and finally you realize what you were asking for. 

It's not all at what you were expecting. 

You notice the sharp pain at first, but it subsides so quickly and turns into pleasure that you almost don't remember how you were both standing here naked or when exactly he pushed inside you. All you know is this is what you were craving. His hips bucking into you as he holds you up against a wall, your legs starting to shake as you try to keep them wrapped around his waist, his fangs buried in the skin of your neck as you dig your nails into his shoulders and beg him not to stop. 

Something inside of you felt different as he let go of your neck, his hips still moving as he tilts your chin to meet his gaze. His mouth is dripping with your blood, but all you can do is moan at the sight and beg him to fuck you harder. He happily obliges, and the taste of your blood on his tongue as he kisses you sends you both over the edge. 

"What the hell was that?" You breathe. 

"Just like you said, you're mine now." 

Chapter Text

You walk through the club, the lights strobing and causing the dancing bodies all around you to almost move in slow motion with the pulse of the bass. Making your way to the bar, you tug your leather jacket in closer, ensuring it doesn't slide down your shoulders. Even in this place, someone might notice the ink that trails your shoulders and back. The tattoo on your thigh, peeking out from the hem of your fitted dress wasn't a concern; no, your back told a much different story. 

The bartender places a glass in front of you, flashing a smile as he leans in closer to be heard above the music. "Looks like you've caught someone's eye." He empties a shaker into the glass, filling it near to the brim. "Courtesy of Mr. D'Antonio." 

Quirking a brow slightly, you align your gaze with the bartender's pointed finger, meeting a pair of bright green eyes sitting at a table across the dancefloor. The man raises his glass, the corner of his lips turning up into a flirtatious grin as you return the gesture with the drink he apparently bought for you. 

Turning back to the counter, you take a sip, letting the cold yet sharp liquid wet your lips. It almost soothes you as you close your eyes, the cool sensation turning warm as you swallow and the alcohol hits your empty stomach. 

"Sei bellissima." ((-You look beautiful- in Italian)) 

You open your eyes, finding that the man was now standing at your side. "Mr. D'Antonio I'm guessing?" 

He nods, a playful smile turning up as he leans in closer, something you chalk up to not being able to hear over the loud music. His eyes are infinitely more vivid this close, they suddenly remind you of the gemstone peridot. 

His voice snaps your thoughts back, "Please, call me Santino." 

"Santino." You repeat, noticing the way his eyes briefly dart to your lips as you say his name. Holding up your glass, he meets the gesture, clinking it gently with his own. "Thanks for the drink, Santino." You make sure to draw out his name with slight emphasis, secretly enjoying the affect it seems to have on him as his eyes again dart to your lips. You both take a sip. 

Setting your glasses back down, he again meets yours eyes. "Do I get the pleasure of knowing your name?" 

You move closer, trailing your hand along his tie. One of his hands finds your hip, sliding up slowly before coming to rest in the small of your back as you lean in to whisper in his ear. "Trust me when I tell you, you don’t wanna know who I am." 

He pulls you flush against his body, his breath on your neck causing your skin to prickle with chill bumps. "Humor me, hm?"  

You move both hands to his chest to push away, but your body betrays you by arching into his touch. He moves his other hand to caress your neck, his thumb stroking your jaw lightly as he glances back and forth between your eyes and your lips. 

Just as you open your mouth to tell him your name, someone comes to stand beside you, gaining his attention. His brows furrow in a mix of confusion and agitation as the women in a suit signs to him. Pretending not to understand is easy enough, but you know she recognizes you as she signs for him to step away. 

"I'm sorry, my bodyguard Ares is usually much more competent." He glares at her, daring her to test him further. 

She signs with exaggerated movements, her frustration clear as though she's yelling for him to stay away from you. It's only when she signs about danger that his gentle caress seems to stiffen, even slightly, as he glances to you. 

Offering him a sly grin, you tug at his tie gently, bringing his face closer to yours. Your lips brush against his as you speak, your hand now moving up to run your fingers through the back of his hair. "I tried to warn you. You don't wanna know who I am." 

His lips part in anticipation before crashing onto yours. 

You trace your tongue along his, savoring the mixed flavor of liquors it creates. Reluctantly, you break the kiss. Tugging his hair lightly as he groans and tries to kiss you again, your lips brushing just enough for you to gently bite his bottom one. Moving your hands to his chest, you start to step away. 

He keeps his eyes locked with yours. 

As soon as you back a few steps away, Ares steps between the two of you, holding a gun at her side just in case. Santino seems to notice, his brows furrow questioningly as he speaks to her in Italian. She simply pushes him behind her and raises the gun. 

You grin, deciding now is the time to shed your jacket. It slides off your shoulders easily, your open-back halter dress revealing the majority of your tattoos. None go past your elbows, but they identify just who you are and what you do, similar to the way anyone else's do in this profession. 

She takes a small step forward, but before you can throw your jacket at her, you feel a gun pressed to the back of your head. 

Santino angrily tries to call him off, but this goon keeps his loyalty with Ares, and the barrel stays pressed firmly to your scalp. 

You grip your jacket sleeves, spinning quickly to wrap them around the goon's hands, disarming him and taking the gun for yourself to immediately shoot him in the head. 

Before you can make another move, you hear your nick-name being called. Your friend was extremely late, but perhaps his timing was perfect. 

As he moves to stand beside you, he motions for you to lower the gun. You oblige, glancing towards Ares, who does the same. She moves forward, Santino at her side, both seeming hesitant to approach you and your friend. 

Santino reaches for you but Ares stops him, his frustration with her growing, but a look in your friend's direction seems to keep him grounded. "Hello John." 

"Santino." John replies, his deep voice laced with a hint of agitation as he nods in your direction, pulling you closer to his side. "I see you met Keres." 

You roll your eyes. "That's not my name John." 

"Yeah well, it's the only name he needs to know." John's grip tightens slightly on your arm as if attempting to make you stand behind him. 

You shrug him off, noticing the look Santino gives Ares as she signs; she explains to him that Keres is Greek mythology for female spirits of violent and cruel death. 

He glances to you, seeming to study your tattoos for the first time. 

"We need to go." John turns to leave. 

You quickly disassemble the gun you had taken from the goon, dropping it at Ares' feet as you turn to follow John. 

Santino catches your arm, and you begrudgingly stop to face him. 

"You never gave me your name." He flashes a smile, albeit a somewhat unsure one. 

"John told you-" 

"Your real one." He interrupts. "The only one that matters to me." 

Looking to the side, you see John waiting impatiently by the back door. You tell Santino your name, and a real smile brightens his eyes. 

He repeats your name, brushing your hair back over your shoulder to reveal more of your ink. "It seems as though we have a lot more in common than I thought." 

You nod, and he surprisingly moves closer, caressing your neck as he leans in. His lips brush yours again, softer this time. He seems confused when you pull away, and you offer a single lingering kiss on his cheek before turning to collect your jacket and leave with John. 

Chapter Text

The next few days are much quieter than usual, with Ajax seeming to make himself scarce, held up in his personal quarters doing god knows what. The 'patients', if you can call them that, seem relieved to have a break from his presence, but you can't help to feel as though it has something to do with the incident. 

The last time you were with him plays over in your head as you try to contemplate what could possibly be in store for you. Something about your mutation allowed him to feel again; not only the physicality of your skin on his, but even his emotions seem to spring back to life upon your slightest touch. You think back to the redness of his skin, an angry outline of your hand forming clearly upon his cheek, but he wasn’t even mad. He caressed you so gently, with a clear sense of restraint you didn’t know was possible from him, almost as though he was suddenly acutely aware of how much pain he had caused you in the last few months. 

You hadn't seen him since. 

Even Angel was starting to worry about what he could be cooking up in his quarters. A new torture device perhaps? Something even worse than the suffocation chamber? 

Angel knew about the other night, you had confided in her after Ajax's first day 'gone', but she played it off at the time. With each passing day, her worry seemed to grow. 

You sit up in bed, unable to sleep. Standing with a defeated sigh, you slip quietly out into the hall towards Angel's room. The door squeaks slightly, and you hear something shift inside the room. "Angel?" You call out in a loud whisper, hoping to deter any possibility of her mistaking you for an unwanted guest. 

She breathes out, stepping from behind the door and taking your hand to walk back towards her bed. "I almost punched you." 

You giggle softly, both taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "I just keep thinking about what he could be doing up there... I'm worried it's something for me." 

"He might not be making anything," She moves closer, draping her arm around you in comfort. "He could just be trying to figure out how to fix himself." 

"Or he's trying to find out how to extract it from me..." 

She offers to let you stay with her for the night, but you feel the need to be alone again. Padding softly back to your room, you notice the door is slightly ajar although you distinctly remember shutting it. 

Your eyes have had time to adjust to the darkness by now, allowing you to make out a figure sitting at the end of your bed as you step into the room. 

A chill runs down your spine as he stands, his silhouette immediately recognizable as Ajax. 

"Come here." He whispers, offering his hand to you and seemingly genuinely saddened when you take a step back. "I'm not going to hurt you." 

"It's funny..." You glare through the darkness, taking another small step back toward your still open door. "You used to say that every time you put me in the suffocation chamber." 

He shoots forward, grabbing your arm just as you attempt to run, and pulls your body flush against his. His strong arms wrap around you, proving your squirming to be embarrassingly ineffective, and causing you to give up with a huff of frustration. 

His grip loosens slightly into a gentle caress, one of his hands moving to lift your chin so that your eyes meet. "I really won't hurt you. Not ever again." 

You glare at him in silence. 

"I have no reason to hurt you, I just couldn't stay away from you any longer." He slides his hand along your jaw, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. 

You pull back as much as he will allow, narrowing your eyes at him. "The Ajax I know would just play nice and then run painful experiments until he could find something useful, like a way to extract whatever my mutation is for himself." 

Seeming to deflate, he releases you, running his hand down his face with an exasperated sigh as he sits back down on your bed. "I could tell you how much I thought about you the last few days, but you wouldn’t believe me. I could even tell you that I actually had dreams, all of them about you, but you probably wouldn’t believe that either. Even if I told you how I woke up in a cold sweat every night I spent away from you, each filled with nightmare after nightmare of all the things I did to you, and feeling all the pain I caused you...I'm sure you wouldn’t even believe that, would you?" 

Unsure what to say, you opt to remain silent. He nods softly, looking up to study your face in what little light the moon offered. 

"I tried to stay away from you, to get you out of my head, but I started having dreams about more things happening to you... Other people causing you pain, and I just-I just..." His shoulders slump and you feel yourself move toward him. You stoop to your knees before him, caressing his cheek, your eyes widening as you feel his wet skin. 

He doesn’t pull away from you, but instead looks up to reveal the glimmering streaks trailing his cheeks. Your body seems to react faster than your brain, not fully realizing your actions until you feel his lips start to move in response to your own. When you pull away, he seems dazed, his brows furrowed while a smile gently tugs at the corners of his lips. 

Pulling you flush against him, he holds you tight, pressing gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder before whispering in your ear. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again." 

Chapter Text

You had barely taken notice of your new neighbor, being too preoccupied with your own problems to bother with the usual polite formalities associated with someone new moving in. Besides, having him around kept Bumbo and Spacker out of your hair, even Joan seemed intrigued. 

You step out of your car and curse your luck as you notice the new guy, half hidden behind the hood of his own. Just as you were thinking he wouldn't take notice, he shuts the hood and nods curtly as if saying hello. You nod in return, shutting your door and walking around to your passenger side. 

He casually walks over, the gravel crunching beneath his feet as he comes to stand beside you. "I don't think we've met yet." 

Sighing, you turn to him, giving him a quick glance up and down before replying. "Nope." 

A playful smile tugs at the corner of his lips, slightly chuckling as he nods toward the apartment building. "They can be a bit much, can't they?" 

Sighing again, you glance at your watch. "Listen, I'd love to stay and chat but I've got shit to do so... Did you need something?" 

He holds up his hands, backing away a step, slight amusement playing across his features. "Was just saying hello." 

"Right..." You turn slightly and tug your passenger door open, your 2 Dobermans trotting out to stand beside you. 

He takes a few more steps back, much to your amusement. 

The dogs follow you as you move toward the building, but you hear the man call after you. "Let me know if you want help with that bike." You stop, slowly turning on your heel to face him, your brow quirked slightly as he jerks a thumb over his shoulder toward the barn. "Noticed you tinkering the other night, I might be able to help." 

So, he had noticed you after all. Maybe you should have been keeping a closer eye on this one. 

You turn back, calling over your shoulder before moving inside. "Give me 10 minutes grease-boy." 

The sound of his chuckling cuts off as you shut the building door behind you. 




After throwing on some tattered blue jeans and an old tank top, you make your way to the barn. The man doesn't seem to take notice when you round the corner, and you find yourself admiring the view. His tank top clings to his torso, the waist of his jeans hanging low on his hips, and his already muscular arms accentuated with the glint of sweat and grease smudges. 

Shaking yourself, you lean against the doorframe and clear your throat. He turns to face you, his smile broadens as you offer him a bottle of water. 

"Thanks. Wasn't sure you'd come out to be honest." He presses the bottle to his lips, leaning his head back giving you a great view of his adams apple bobbing with every swallow. 

You avert your eyes to your bike, unsure what suddenly attracted you to this man. 

He comes to stand beside you, seeming to finally notice your change in attire. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but glances to the door and takes a slow step back. 

You chuckle knowingly, hearing your 2 loyal Dobermans pad in. "They won't hurt you. Not unless you hurt me." He doesn't move, keeping his eyes locked on the dogs as they come to sit at either side of you. "Give me your hand." 

Reaching your hand out, he glances at it hesitantly before meeting your eyes questioningly. Rolling your eyes, you grab his arm and move to stand with him. He kneels with you, and you slide your hand down his forearm to his wrist, slowly holding it out for your dogs to sniff so they would smell your scents together. Their demeanor immediately changes as they both start licking him. 

He chuckles in relief as he pets both of them. 

You stand, moving a few steps away to watch as your dogs almost push him over in their attempts to fight for his affection. 

He moves to stand beside you, the dogs both moving to lay down in a pile of hay now that they felt more comfortable. You can feel him looking at you, the heat from his body being so close giving you a strange sensation. 

Before he can say anything, you step away toward your bike. "So. Can you fix him?" 

He moves forward, inspecting the bike further. "Frank." 

You furrow your brows in confusion. "What?" 

He smiles but doesn't look up from the bike. "My name. Frank. Didn't think you'd ever bother asking, so." 

"Right..." You watch as he leans down, fiddling with something on the bike. Hesitantly, you tell him your name, to which he quirks a surprised brow. 

He straightens and glances over his shoulder at you, motioning for you to look at what he found on the bike. "You see that there?" He points to something on the motor, to which you nod in response. "That's your problem." 

"Can you fix it?" 

He crosses his arms and turns to face you fully. "I can." 

You wait for him to elaborate, but he just stares at you, his lips pursed and jaw clenched slightly. "So... WILL you fix it?" 

He sighs and steps a little closer. "Now, I'm not gonna ask how you got a bullet hole in your motorcycle. I'm not gonna ask why you're hiding it in a barn instead of taking it to a mechanic." 

You open your mouth to protest but he takes a large step forward, now just inches from you. 

"I'm not even gonna ask why you walk around with 2 big ass guard dogs and a gun strapped to your ankle there." He points down to pant leg, where you always had a small gun hidden. 

"How did-" 

He cuts you off again. "I'm just gonna tell you that you've had 3 guys tailing you since I moved in." 

Your eyes narrow at him. "You've been watching me." 

"Do I need to be worried about them?" Before you reply he leans down slightly, making you have to turn your head to avoid brushing noses. "Or you?" 

Clenching your jaw, you hear your dogs start to growl lowly. Frank must assume they're growling at him and ignores them. "Frank..." 

You try to step away, but he grabs your arm. "Answer the question." 

Jerking your arm away from him, you get in his face, thankful for once about being tall as you hardly have to look up. "I'm not exactly a 'good guy', but they're definitely not people you want to mess with. And they," you point toward the door where your dogs are growling, "only growl like that at a few people." 

Realization flashes across Frank's face as he moves to peek out the door, noticing 2 cars parked across the street. 

"We need to get inside." He motions for you to follow him. 

You stop him, pulling him further inside the barn. "You're staying in here, this isn't your fight." 

He smirks. "You obviously don't know me very well." 

Rolling your eyes, you poke his chest. "And you don't know me at all. So stay out of this, and no one else gets hurt. I can handle it." 

You move to walk out but he stops you. "What if you can't?" 

Sighing, you throw up your hands in an exasperated shrug. "Then you won't wanna be around for it. No one else needs to pay for shit I got myself into." 

His hand grips your arm tighter as your try to leave again. "I know who those cars belong to. I can help." 

Pursing your lips, you glance him up and down. His grip loosens and you sigh in a mix of defeat and relief. 




Frank follows you into your apartment, your dogs darting in before he closes the door. "So, how are we doing this?" 

You pull open one of your kitchen drawers, grabbing 3 handguns. "Follow my lead, even if it seems...weird." 

He furrows his brows in confusion as you place 2 guns on the counter, sliding them back before hopping up to sit on the edge. 

You feel them behind you, adjusting their position. "Can you see them behind me?" 

He shakes his head, still not understanding your plan. You motion him to move closer, and he takes a few steps forward until he's only a foot away. Sighing in frustration, you grab the waist of his jeans and pull him to you. 

He clears his throat in discomfort at the sudden proximity, his demeanor stiffening as you place the 3rd gun in the front of his jeans. "What are you doing?" His voice wavers slightly, his brow quirking unintentionally as you pull him flush to where you sit on the counter with your legs wrapping around his waist. 

His hands move to the countertop of either side of you as you scoot to the very edge of the counter, pressing your body to his. "I said it might get weird, just trust me." 

You feel his pulse quicken as you move your hands up his chest, gripping his tank top. His adams apple bobs as he swallows thickly, one of your hands sliding up further to trail through the back of his hair. 

His brow quirks again and you press your lips gently to his. He slowly relaxes, his lips starting to move in response to yours. 

You tug at his hair lightly, and he immediately grabs your hips. The kiss deepens, feeling more urgent as he trails one of his hands up and down your leg, gripping your thigh to hitch it higher on his hip so he can lean into you slightly. 

Both of you hear light shuffling outside the door, and Frank pauses to pull away, but you grip his tank top again and kiss him hungrily. He groans softly, his grip tightening on your hips. You slide your hands down his arms without breaking the kiss. You grip his hands and slide them down slowly and he grips your ass, causing you to smirk into the kiss, but you keep sliding them further onto the counter until you feel him grip the 2 guns you had placed behind you. 

He stiffens slightly, but he seems to understand as you slide your hand down his abs to grip the gun you tucked into his waist band. 

The door flies open. 

Both you and Frank react quickly, firing at the 2 men. They fall quickly, but you keep your gun up, looking for the 3rd man. 

Frank glances around, nodding toward your living room around the corner as he quietly steps in that direction. You hear growling, and a gunshot, followed furniture breaking and then.... silence. 

You shove past Frank before he can stop you, gun at the ready, blood boiling at the possibility of someone hurting your dogs. But they both come prancing happily out from behind on of your couches, their snouts covered in blood. You snap your finger and point behind you, to which they obediently go to wait in the corner. Frank motions for you to flank one side of the couch while he comes in on the other. 

You both point your guns at the dead man on the floor, or rather the scatter pieces that remain. 

Smiling over at your doggie companions, you tuck your gun in your belt. 




Frank helps you clean up the mess and dispose of the bodies. He doesn't say a word the entire time. 

You part ways to your own apartments, both covered in blood, grease, dirt, and sweat. 

You wash your dogs first, opting for a quick shower second, and then hesitantly grab a bottle of whiskey before padding to stand at Frank's door. 

It must have only been about 30 seconds of debate, standing there wondering if you should knock or go back to your own apartment, but it felt like an eternity. When you finally make a decision, Frank opens the door to find you turning away. 

"Hey." He mutters. 

"Oh." You spin around, but immediately turn your head away as you realize he's dripping wet and shirtless from a fresh shower. "Sorry I didn’t mean to- I mean I was just um..." You try to look him in the eye to gauge his reaction, but avert your eyes again as you hold up the whiskey bottle. 

He moves aside, allowing you to walk past him into his rather gloom and empty apartment. "So you can pretend to makeout with me but you won't look at me when I don't have a shirt on?" 

You turn to look at him, but end up almost bumping into him. He put an arm around your waist to steady you, taking the bottle from you and taking a long gulp from it. 

He chuckles as he looks closer at the bottle. "Guess you started drinking without me, huh?" 

He glances down, noticing his arm still possessively around you. His smile falls and his shoulders slump slightly and he moves to pull away, but you grab his arm, keeping him in place. 

He quirks that brow of his again, taking another long swig from the bottle as you close the gap between you. You press into him, guiding him back slowly until he hits the counter. 

Taking the bottle, you press flush against him, trapping him against the counter as you set the bottle down and use both hands to trail up his bare chest. He studies you, keeping his hands at his sides, gripping the counter with white knuckles as you lightly trail your nails down his shoulders. 

He turns his head, looking away from you, leaving you to feel slightly rejected. 

When you move to step away, his hand shoots out to grip your wrist. You meet his eyes questioningly. He grips your hips, spinning you so that you're pinned between him and the counter, his strong arms creating a cage on either side of you. "Frank I-" 

He moves one of his hands to caress your cheek, sliding it along your jaw to rest at your neck so you can't turn away. "Don't play games with me." 

You furrow your brows. "Frank-" 

He presses flush against you, his lips inches from yours as his jaw clenches repeatedly. "I was happy to help, but I am NOT a toy." 

"I didn't mean to push it that far Frank..." 

His eyes soften as he sighs. 

"I got carried away, but..." He waits as you contemplate finishing your sentence. You glance down, somewhat nervous to read his reaction as you whisper the rest. "I wasn't pretending." 

He grips your hair, forcing you to look at him. 

"Just let me go." You sigh. "Keep the booze, I'll leave you alone." 

He kisses you softly, waiting for you to embrace him before he lets out a groan and picks you up. Your legs go around his waist, and you expect him to sit you on the counter top, but instead he carries you to the bedroom. 

Chapter Text


You unlock the door and casually stroll into the apartment, making yourself at home immediately by kicking off your heels and shedding your blazer. Hearing a rustle in the main bedroom, you simply assume your sister made it home early and continue toward the fridge. 

The contents are lacking desperately. You lean in with pursed lips to rearrange a few items, hoping to find something edible hidden further back. Footsteps shuffle from the bedroom, and you stand slowly, ears prickling as the sound grows closer; it's definitely not your sister. 

You shut the fridge and move cautiously toward the door as a large man rounds the corner. Locking eyes, you take advantage of his momentary bewilderment by charging at him, using the full force of your body to bring him to the ground. He lets out a surprised gasp and rolls to his side, holding up one hand defensively as if to ask for you to wait. Wasting no time, you slide over and lock your arms around his neck, then tuck your legs around his waist. 

He struggles to break free, but you refuse to release your grip. Shifting slightly, you bring your lips closer to his ear, "Why are you in this apartment?" 

With a strained chuckle, he flips in one swift movement, bringing you with him as he stands and slams back against the wall. Your grip loosens. He slams again, this time cratering the wall and finally breaking your hold. 

Slumping to the ground, you glance up at him through narrowed eyes. He leans over you, curiosity written plainly across his features as his eyes dart to the large hole left by your body. "I should ask you the same thing." 

You lunge at him, tackling him back to the floor, taking advantage of his shock once again by landing a solid punch to his jaw before he can react. He grips your wrists and looks up at you with furrowed brows, his jaw already turning pink from the contact. Before you can struggle free from his grip, he flips and pins you to the floor beneath him. 

"Let me go." You grit through your teeth in warning. 

He seems genuinely curious as he looks into your eyes. "Who are you?" 

"I'll say it one last time: Let. Me. Go." 

He shifts slightly, allowing more space between you, which is all you need to bring your legs up and kick him off. Unfortunately, your agitation got the better of you and your kick sent the man flying across the room to leave another crater in your sister's wall. 

Before either of you could fully stand, your sister walks in. "What in the hell is going on?" 

Rushing to your feet, you pull her behind you, assuming a protective stance as the man, now on his feet, brushes bits of wall off his shirt. 

"Louis?" He asks hesitantly, glancing between the two of you. 

She moves to step out from behind you, but you hold her in place and quirk a brow at the man. "How do you know my sister?" 

He glances between the two of you again as she peeks out from behind you, her finger lightly tapping your shoulder. "It's just Clark." Hesitantly, you let Louis move out from behind you. She glances between the two of you, and then surveys the apartment. "Why are these holes in my walls?" 

"I didn't know you had company." You shrug, your eyes still locked with Clark's. 

The corner of his lips twitch up slightly. "She attacked me. Which, by the way, I feel like I need to ask both of you how that happened?" He motions toward the aforementioned holes in the walls. 

"Well you see," You start, irritation showing clearly in your sarcasm, "You threw me into a wall so I thought I needed to return the favor." 

"Wait," Louis steps between the two of you, bringing to your attention that you had subconsciously moved closer together. "You threw him into a wall?" She questions, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Scoffing, you glance down at her. "You're more worried about him than me?" 

"I don't think you understand..." She puts her hands on your arms, facing you fully and keeping your attention away from Clark. "You shouldn't have been able to throw him at all." 

Shrugging away from her, you peer over to where Clark has taken a seat on the couch, his elbows rested on his knees in contemplation. "Why? He's not so tough." 

Louis sighs and shakes her head. "You don't understand, he's literally Superman. Humans aren't supposed to be able-" 

"She's not human." Clark's voice sounds directly next to you, startling both you and Louis as you notice his eyes changed ever so slightly. 

You move to back away but he grips your arm, his eyes locked intently with yours as he tightens his hand slowly as if waiting for you to flinch or yell uncle. Furrowing his brows, he releases you and turns to Louis. 

He leans down to whisper in her ear, "Are you sure this is your sister?" 

Rolling your eyes, you let out an exasperated sigh, "Okay 1. I can hear you, and 2. I was adopted before she was born so we were raised as sisters." 

Louis' eyes dart to you. "What are you saying?" 

Both she and Clark wait expectantly for an answer. 

"Maybe we should sit down?" You motion to the couch, but neither move. Instead, Clark crosses his arms and quirks a brow in impatience. "Okay..." Taking a deep breath, you try to look anywhere but directly into either of their eyes. "Let's just say that your parents weren't the only ones to send a ship to Earth." 

Clark breathes out a sigh, his eyes tearing up slightly as you gently lift and hover just above the floor, proving your point. 

A sense of relief washes over both of you, knowing neither of you are alone anymore. 

However, neither of you notice Louis' whole world shattering. She watches as the man she thought would be the love of her life, and her sister, find in each other a bond that no one else could share, and she knew exactly what that meant. Clark had told her countless times about Kryptonian culture, and ironically, hearing about the strength of their soulmate bonds used to be her favorite part to hear. 

Chapter Text



Finally! A break in your career. Your agent had just called to congratulate you on landing a significant role in the new Venom film, where you would be working alongside none other than Tom Hardy. 

Even though your character wasn’t quite a love interest for Tom's portrayal of Venom, you still had several scenes together and managed to form a rather playful friendship. The rest of the cast and crew joked constantly about the two of you dating, which both of you played off with laughter, but you would never admit to having developed more romantic feelings. 


Several months into filming:  

You step into your trailer, immediately flopping on your couch in exhaustion. Taking a deep breath, you grab a rather fluffy pillow and pull it close, feeling yourself begin to drift off almost instantly. 

A loud ringing startles you awake. A groan escapes your lips as you reluctantly slide off the couch just enough to reach your phone from your bag. You answer with a somewhat annoyed "Hello?" As you manage to successfully roll back onto the couch. 

"Hey love, I- oh no I've woken you haven't I?" Tom's voice sounds from the other side of the phone. 

Smiling to yourself, you clutch the pillow closer to get comfy again. "It's alright Tom." 

He chuckles softly, sending a shiver up your spine. "Well I just wanted to see if you'd like to join me for lunch, I ordered your favorite, but if you're tired I'll let you be." 

Noticing a shadow outside your trailer, you sit up enough to peek out your window. "Tom?" You ask softly, smiling to yourself. 


Moving to stand, you ready yourself to open the trailer door. "Are you standing outside my trailer?" 

There's silence from the other end as he pauses briefly. "Am I- Am I at your trailer?" 

You open the door, startling him as he spins to face you, two rather large take-out bags in his hand. Giggling, you hang-up the phone and step aside, allowing him in. 

He sets out everything on your small table, clearly trying to hide the redness of his face. 

Wrapping your arms around him from behind seems to surprise him. He stiffens slightly, but then turns to hug you back properly. "Thanks Tom. You're the best friend anyone could ask for." 

He kisses the side of your head gently. "Of course, love. Anything for you." 

You don't notice his smile falter at the word friend, and he doesn't quite notice the strain in your voice as you say it. 


Two weeks later:  

You were getting ready for a date when Tom knocked at your door. Putting in your earrings, you take one last glance in the mirror before moving to answer him. 

"Hey, love- wow!" He takes a moment to look you over before stepping into the trailer, bringing you in for a hug, and then stepping back to look at you again. "Just wow. You look stunning." 

Chuckling, you jokingly curtsey. "Why thank you, sir." 

Heat rises in your cheeks as you notice his eyes still locked on you. You always wondered if he was just being polite, and honestly you couldn't imagine that he might ever actually have a romantic interest in you. 

Shaking yourself, you turn slightly, showing him your slightly unzipped dress. "Could you help me with this?" 

He stammers momentarily. "Can I? With- with the um- with the dress then? The zipper? Right. The – yes. Right... Um. Ok." 

Feeling his warm fingers brush against your skin, trailing upwards as he zips your dress, sends a small shiver through you. 

"M'sorry. Cold hands I guess. I um- yeah. Sorry." Clearing his throat, he steps away, leaving you to feel a slight emptiness at the loss of his touch. 

Before you can turn to face him, your phone dings with a message. You sigh and purse your lips. "Well never mind, he had to cancel." 

Tom seems confused, the look on his face only to be described as flabergasted. "He...He had to WHAT?" 

Shrugging your shoulders you move to take out your earrings. "He had to-" 

"No I heard you." He takes your arm gently, stopping you. "I just don't understand how any man would mess up a shot with you." You open your mouth to reply but he holds up his hand and shakes his head. "Nope, I'm putting on a jacket and taking you out myself." 


Mid-way through filming:  

The event seemed harmless enough, and you had decided to attend without a date since it was supposed to be a relatively small venue with minimal press, but that wasn't the case. The venue had changed, and the event was nearly double what you had mentally prepared for. Coming without a date may have been a terrible idea, you never felt so alone, or more bombarded with questions. Half of the press were easy enough to handle, you could simply brush them off by telling them how confidential the movie still was, but the other half were asking about Tom. 

Apparently, some rather sneaky paparazzi had managed to snap a few photos of the night Tom had taken you out, and the relationship rumors were already spreading. 

"You make a great couple!" One shouted, trying to be heard over the various others saying things like, "How long have you been seeing each other?" "Are the rumors even true?" "Where is Tom right now?" 

That was actually a great question, you smile politely, glancing around in attempts to spot Tom. When you finally catch a glance, relief floods throughout your body with a wave of warmth. Smiling again to the press, "Tom is very wonderful and I've actually just spotted him, so if you don't mind." Waving briefly, you begin to make your way to him, seeming to be stopped every few steps by more questions and more photographers. 

Finally, you make it close enough to somewhat hear Tom's voice. He's doing a live interview and hasn't noticed you yet, allowing you to eavesdrop a bit while posing for a few photos. 

The interviewer seems to be asking him a lot of questions about the leaked photos with you, "So you aren't dating?" 

Tom shakes his head and laughs. "She's my best friend, mate. A very beautiful woman that any man would be lucky to have." 

The interviewer smiles knowingly. "You have a crush on her, right?" 

Tom licks his lips nervously and nods his head. "No. No, she's my best friend." 

Your heart drops briefly, but when the interviewer motions for Tom to look over, he finally takes notice of you. His eyes widen as he takes in your backless dress. Deciding to be playful, you give him a quick wink to show you caught him checking you out, to which he blushes furiously and glances back to the interviewer. 

"Shit, she's looking." 

The interviewer laughs as you saunter over and place a kiss on Tom's cheek. "What nonsense has he been saying about me now?" You ask jokingly. 

Tom places his hand at the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. "Only the best things, love." 

The interviewer smirks. "Now I know you two are just being shy, there's no way you aren't dating." 

Tom laughs and nervously strokes his beard with his free hand. "Nah, mate, she's too good for a guy like me." 

The interviewer quirks a brow at you, and nods his head toward Tom. Throwing caution to the wind, you decide to go for it. 

When Tom turns to give you a questioning look, you answer by pressing your lips to his. 

He doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, returning your affection whole heartedly. 

Everyone around you screams in excitement, cameras flash wildly, and you swear you can hear one of your fellow cast members shouting "Finally!" somewhere in the distance. 

Chapter Text


"You're kidding right?" Logan scoffs, getting up from his chair ready to storm out. "Thanks for wasting our time, kid." 

Charles watches you intently, hesitant to trust his own mind. "She's telling the truth, Logan." 

A smile twitches at the edge of your lips as Logan stops in his tracks, turning slowly to face you again. "How do you know, huh?" Charles opens his mouth to speak but Logan moves behind him to grab the chair handles. "I think it's time for us to go." 

The chair doesn’t move, and irritation plays clearly across Logan's features as he unsuccessfully attempts to pick it up. 

You twist your hand slightly and the chair moves to the table. "I think you should stay for dinner. Charles seems hungry." 

Charles flashes you a knowing smile and pats your hand. "I told you Logan. She has much of Eric in her." 



2 years later: 

"She can't do this alone Logan." 

He ignores you, brushing past in a huff. 

"Charles..." You plead, feeling exasperated. 

"We can't just leave her Logan, she's just a child." Charles protests as Logan rolls him out the door towards the car. 

You pour a bowl of cereal for the girl. "Stay here Laura, I'll be back I promise." 

She simply nods, taking a large bite of cereal as you storm out the door with every intent to knock some sense into Logan. You round the corner, but stop dead in your tracks as you see a group of armed men surrounding Logan. One of the men moves to punch Logan in the face with his metal hand, lucky for you, not so lucky for him as you use your power to pin the man's hand to the ground. 

All attention is on you, and a smirk plays across your face as the bewildered man with a metal arm screams furiously for his men to do something. 

They all raise their guns. 

You can hear Logan yelling for you to run, but you have too much of your father in you for that. 

All of the men fire. Raising your hand, your smirk turns into a full menacing grin, and all of the bullets stop mid-air. 

"What the fuck..." The man with a metal arm mutters. 

"If you like that, wait until you see this." You laugh, pushing forward with your power to send the bullets flying into the men's necks, bi-passing their useless tactical vests entirely. 

Ducking behind the side fence, you use it as cover to run along and attempt getting around to help Logan and Charles. Unfortunately, a few of the men had been missed, and were running past into the building. 

Shouting, followed by gunfire sounds off from inside the building, causing you to spin around. You had forgotten Laura, and the men had found her. Before you could rush back, she steps out, bringing the severed head of one of the larger men with her to throw at the Mr. Metal Arm's feet. 

He seems disappointed, but you couldn't be more proud of the little girl. He shakes a finger at her in warning. "Laura, no. No. No! Laura...." 

She moves forward anyway, and he motions for the remaining men to take her. 

You yank a few of them back by the metal of their gun straps, but one of them shoots a harpoon into Laura causing you to scream in frustration. 

Mr. Metal Arm looks back at you, a mix of amusement and worry playing across his features as you move toward him. He moves for his gun but you use the metal of his hand to pin him against the fence before twisting your hand, wrapping the wire around to hold him in place for the time being. 

Turning to Laura, you see her rip out the harpoon and cut the rope with her claws. Logan takes out the last two men, and Laura runs to you, jumping up to hug you tightly before noticing the man you wrapped up in the fence. 

She growls, but you sit her down with a warning look. 

Logan, however, limps over to the man and unsheathes his claws. 

"Logan." You call in warning, making your way over to him. 

"We should kill him now." He scowls, the gruffness of his voice making his agitation even more obvious. 

Shaking your head, you step in front of the man, placing a hand on Logan's chest to prevent him moving further. "I think I can get information from him. He could be useful." 

Sighing, Logan glances at the man, and then back to you, his lips pursed in clear disapproval. He nods reluctantly. "Looks like you get to live another day Pierce." 

"Lucky me." The man, apparently named Pierce, chuckles from behind you. 

This earns a genuine chuckle from Logan. "Don't be so sure, bub. You can probably guess who she is." 

Logan makes his way to the car with Laura, and Charles waves goodbye from the backseat as they all 3 drive away. Glancing back over your shoulder, you notice the man looking you over. 

"If I let you down are you gonna try and shoot me? Or can you walk to the building without me kicking your ass again?" You cross your arms, waiting for his answer. 

"Well, sweetheart." He smirks, flashing a gold tooth. "I'd say I'm good to walk, so long as I can watch your ass the whole way." 

Chapter Text


The Avenger's tower was rather quiet today. The rest of the team had gone out on a mission, and you elected to stay behind to watch over Loki, who mostly kept to himself anyway. 

Turning off the tv, you sprawl out on the couch with a heavy sigh, boredom already setting in. The team wouldn't be back for another 2 days 3 hours and 11 minutes; not that you were keeping track or anything... 

Heaving another sigh, you stand up, deciding to be somewhat productive and cook your own lunch. "Friday?" 

"Yes?" Tony's most recent A.I. responds. 

"Can you shuffle my playlist labeled favorites?" 

"Of course." She complies, and My Love by Justin Timberlake blares through the speakers. 

Smiling to yourself, you begin to mouth along. Rummaging through the fridge, you find a few appetizing ingredients that make you think of making your favorite childhood dish. Using your hip to close the fridge, you find yourself somewhat dancing, your voice growing more confident with the lyrics you know so well. 

Pretty soon, you're dancing along, using various kitchen utensils as your microphone. 

After your own private concert of Justin Timberlake songs, ending with Rock Your Body, you hear applause. Startled, you spin to see Loki, heat rising in your cheeks as his smile broadens. 

"What a lovely performance." He quips, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe, the smug satisfaction of having caught you in an embarrassing state written clear across his face. 

Clearing your throat, you straighten your shirt and run a hand back through your somewhat messy hair. "How much of that did you see?" 

He chuckles. "Only the last few moments, but I do wish to have seen more." 

The oven timer sounds, startling you again, but providing a well needed distraction as you clear your throat again. "Are you hungry?" 

Smiling, he steps into the kitchen, finally tearing his eyes from you to inspect what you pull out of the oven. "Absolutely famished." 


Later that evening:  

After popping a rather large bowl of popcorn, you sit down to a horror movie marathon, courtesy of Tony's large collection of DVDs and Friday's unlimited access to everything online. 

A few minutes into the first movie, with suspenseful music playing and the main character moving slowly toward an ominous door, Loki approaches unnoticed. 

"May I join?" 

His question is polite, but his presence was unexpected and startles you once again causing some of the popcorn to spill. "HOLy shIT Loki, you can't just keep sneaking up on people like that." 

Smirking to himself, he takes a seat on the couch beside you. He reaches over, grabbing a handful of popcorn from your bowl. "Have I missed much of the story?" He asks through a mouthful. 

Giggling, you place the popcorn between you. "It just started, I don't think you missed anything important." 

Midway through the movie, a rather gruesome scene plays out, only making you more nauseous as the gore continues. Loki notices you turning your head, and scoots closer to put his arm around you. "I'll tell you when you can look." He mutters, gently pulling you closer. 


The next morning:  

You wake to a wonderfully delicious smell, but there's no way the team was back yet, and Pepper was away on business. Could Loki even cook? 

Rolling out of bed, you very briefly check the mirror before heading toward the kitchen, merely ensuring that you at least have a tank top and some sweat pants on. Upon rounding the corner, you see Loki placing your favorite flowers in the middle of what can only be described as a breakfast feast. 

Rubbing your eyes sleepily, you step closer. "Loki?" 

Spinning around, he smiles sheepishly. "I was just about to come wake you." He notices you eyeing the table of food curiously. "I just wanted to thank you for lunch yesterday, and for allowing me to join you for movies." 

"Loki, you didn't hav-" 

"No," He holds up a hand, moving closer to gently guide you back toward a seat at the table. "You've been generous to me and my brother tells me I need to learn how to show gratitude." He motions to the banquet before you. 

"Well," You shake your head, allowing him to help you with your chair before taking his seat across from you. "Thank you Loki." 

A genuine smile graces his features. "My pleasure." 

After you've both had your fill, you help him clean up, putting the remaining food in tupperware and handing him the plates to rinse off. 

He hesitates momentarily, and you follow his gaze to your still outstretched hand, realizing you had forgotten to cover your wrist today. 

"I'm sorry." He mutters, taking the plate and turning away to finish rinsing. 

You smile softly, holding your wrist with your other hand, gently tracing over the solitary scarred tally mark with your thumb. "It was a long time ago." 


Later that evening:  

Loki had seemed to be avoiding you since the incident at breakfast. While most of the team knew what happened, it was all before Loki had arrived at the tower. 

Normally you kept your wrist covered with long sleeves, a wrist band, or even a thick watch, but you had slipped up this morning. Immediately after cleaning up, you had gone back to your room to change, using a large watch to cover up your scar again. While you aren't ashamed by any means, it could be painful to look at sometimes. 

You find yourself thinking of Loki, wishing he would come find you, even if it was to ask about the scar; you missed his company. 

After making one last round throughout this floor of the tower, and being unsuccessful in finding Loki anywhere, you assume he must be held up in his room. With a sigh, you decide to give him his space, returning to your room to change into training gear for an evening workout. Maybe it would distract you from this odd feeling. 

Grabbing your bag on your way out, you quickly unlatch your watch and go to slip on a wrist band. Your entire body stiffens, every hair on your body bristling as a sense of dread causes your heart to race. Next to your scar, lies a brand new, crisp, single black tally mark. 

Quickly, you pull up your wrist band. 


Early the next morning:  

Loki had stayed locked in his room the previous evening, so when you wake to a loud bang coming from the kitchen, you rush out bed in attempts to catch him. 

Instead of just Loki, you find the entire team surrounding him, Thor holding him in what looks to be a rather uncomfortable embrace. "I'm so happy for you brother!" 

Tony finally notices you, "Well good morning sleeping beauty." 

The rest of the team turns, greeting you as well. Thor, seeming the most excited, keeps one arm around Loki's shoulders as he beams, "Have you heard the wonderful news?" 

Blinking sleepily, you shake your head in response. 

"My brother is in love!" He grips Loki's wrist before he can protest, and thrusts it forward, revealing a single black tally mark. 

"Oh, well that's-" 

"Guys." Clint nudges Nat, and nods toward you. 

Feeling self-conscious with everyone's eyes suddenly on you, you can't help but to glance down at yourself, hoping you remembered to put on clothes. 

Thor's smile broadens as he darts forward, bringing Loki with him. He grips your wrist, bringing it next to Loki's so that your tally marks are almost touching. 

Loki's brows furrow, and your heart stops as his eyes meet yours. 

Chapter Text


You watch as Sebastian makes his way through the crowd. All you can think is how handsome he looks in his suit, especially with the top button of his shirt casually left open. He seems to be looking for someone, and you feel a brief moment of panic when his eyes lock with yours, but the calm smile that spreads across his features brings a sense of relief. 

Could he have been looking for you?... 

Just as he moves as though to make his way towards you, he gets stopped by a someone wanting an interview. You could almost swear you see his shoulders slump slightly, and he smiles apologetically to you before moving aside. Knowing the interview may take a while, and now being too far away to hear anything, you try to distract yourself. 

Luckily, your best friend places a gentle hand on your back as they come to stand beside you. "You should go talk to him when he's finished." 

You quirk a brow as you glance down at Scarlet. "I should what now?" 

Smiling, she locks her arm with yours to pose for a few photos. "He keeps glancing over here, and I've seen the two of you making goo-goo eyes the last few months." 

"We haven't been-" 

"Oh, don't even try to play innocent." She giggles knowingly, glancing over her shoulder back towards where you last saw Seb. "They're taking him inside to do a sit-down interview, so I say we go do a little spy work." 

Your heart sinks. "No way... I'm not sneaking around and eavesdropping like that!" 

Laughing at your lame attempt to whisper yell at her, Scarlet begins dragging you toward the door Seb had just disappeared into. "What if he says something about you?" 

Suddenly, your feet aren't dragging so desperately. Curiosity seems to move you more willingly inside, following Scarlet to stand just around the corner. You both watch a screen with a live feed of the interview, they were going over a few standard questions to do with Infinity War filming and fight training. 

"So..." The interviewer leans forward in his chair, a sly grin twitching at the edge of his lips. "Your fans are dying to know if there's a lady in your life?" 

Seb falters for a moment, bringing his hand down over his beard stubble as he shifts in his seat. "Um.... well I um- I was actually hoping to bring a date tonight, but I never quite got the chance to ask her." 

The interviewer perks up. "Oh really? Is this lovely lady in attendance tonight?" 

Running a hand back through his hair, a habit he can't seem to quit even since it was cut so short, Seb chuckles nervously. "Uhhhm... yeah- Yeah she is actually." 

Scarlet grips your arm excitedly, and you're certain she can hear your heart beating through your chest as you both listen intently. 

The interviewer claps his hands together, a broad smile spread giddily across his face. "Is it one of your co-stars?" 

"No." Seb shakes his head, scratching at the stubble of his beard again as he furrows his brows, seeming to debate whether or not to disclose any more information. "She actually just hangs around set a lot because she's best friends with one my co-stars." 

Scarlet takes it upon herself to dart forward, gracefully taking the open seat next to Seb for the interview. Seb is understandably startled, jumping up in his chair and darting a slightly panicked questioning glance toward the interviewer, who shrugs in equal confusion. 

"Sorry." Scarlet smiles. "I couldn't help but overhear that our little Seabass has a crush." 

Seb shifts uncomfortably in his seat and clears his throat as if to speak, but the interviewer takes advantage of Scarlet's interruption. " So, Scarlet, does that mean you know who the mystery woman is?" 

You can't help but to hold your breath, and even Seb seems to be waiting in suspense for the answer, his brow quirked in curiosity. 

With a smug grin, she squeezes Seb's arm. "I think I might give Seb one last chance to fess up for himself." 

He opens his mouth to speak, but glances in your direction. You noticed a brief moment of panic flash in his eyes, but it's quickly replaced with a sweet smile. "Actually..." He gets up from his seat and hesitantly walks toward you, the camera following him. "I'm not sure how much you heard but I'm willing to bet you have an idea by now..." He trails off, noticing your growing smile. 

Before you can react, his lips are on yours. It's a soft, sweet kiss. You allow yourself to lean into him, trailing your hand up to grip the collar of his shirt. 

You both pulls away slowly, both smiling like idiots even while Scarlet can be heard in the background squealing: "Finally!" 

You spend the rest of the evening at his side, his arm snaked around your waist, his eyes beaming and a seemingly permanent cheesy smile on his face. What the cameras don't see, is how he grips your ass at every chance, and continuously leans in to whisper dirty sweet nothings into your ear. 

Chapter Text


You roll your eyes, nodding along in habitual response as your dad retells the story for what can only be described as the LITERAL millionth time. However, you can never stay too mad at him. He came into your life when you were a teen, having been unaware of your existence until you grew the courage to seek him out for yourself. Everyone was shocked how immediately protective of you he became, and how quick he was to insist on you living with him. He was seen by the public as a notorious player, the infamous Peter Vincent, and no one exactly expected him to win father of the year... but he stepped up, and always made sure you were happy and safe.

Even now, in your early 20s, every phone call or visit with him included stories of warning. But this one... This one was his favorite. Even Aunt Amy and Uncle Charley vowed it to be true, although you didn't believe a word of it, they all 3 swore to the existence of vampires. 

Your dad believes to have faced a particular vampire not only when he was a child, but again 10 years ago (not long before you came into the picture), which is actually how he says to have met your Aunt and Uncle in the first place. The experience with the vampire, 'Jerry' as they called him, is what they claimed made them a family. 

Side-note, how lame is the name Jerry for a vampire? Not exactly a name that instills fear is it? You didn't think so as a teen, and you definitely don't think so now. Why they continued holding onto the story was beyond your understanding... 

Yet here you are, trying not to doze off as your dad drones on over the dinner table. Aunt Amy and Uncle Charley both shiver when the story finally ends, then squeeze each other's hands comfortingly before raising their glasses to toast. 

Your dad raises his, and motions for you to do the same. "To family, to health, and to making sure we keep both." He says with a smile, and you all clink glasses briefly before sipping your drinks. 

"Listen..." Your Uncle speaks up just as everyone sets their glasses down. He clears his throat and hesitantly looks up to meet your eyes, his brows furrowed with concern. "I know that you don't put much stock in the story." Your Aunt moves to interrupt him but he puts a hand on her shoulder before turning back to you. "I know you don't believe in vampires... or understand why your dad or any of us acted the way we did while you were living here. But, we just want to keep you safe." 

Glancing to your dad, he gives a smile reassuring smile. "I don't mind that you don't believe us, and I honestly hope that you never have to find out the truth." 

Something about those words, and the way your dad said them, brings a slight chill to your spine. You think back to the strange lessons he instilled after you agreed to move in with him: spar lessons, weapon training, vampire lore, and even language studies. He wanted to ensure you would always be safe, and if you had to run away to start over, well you would be prepared for that too. While you actually enjoyed the training, and used it to carve out a very lucrative career for yourself... you can't help but wonder if perhaps the story was true? 

After dinner you say goodbye to your Aunt and Uncle, walking them out to their car, and wishing them well on their late-night drive home. Your dad squeezes your shoulder as they drive away, then kisses your cheek before turning to go back inside. 

He pauses at the door as if waiting for you to follow him, but you take a seat on the front porch instead. "I think I'm going to stay up a bit longer, maybe finish the last few chapters of my book." You hold up the novel, the bookmark sticking out near the end as proof it wouldn't take long to finish. 

He glances out into the night, straining to scan the trees surrounding the house. 

"I'll be fine, dad." You reassure him. 

Hesitantly, he nods, and flips on the porch light. Pausing in the open doorway, he moves as though to offer his company. 

"Dad..." You warn playfully. "I'll be fine." 

Nodding again, he gives a quick smile, and then disappears inside as he shuts the door behind him. 

Opening your book, you pretend to ignore as the curtains shift in your peripheral, knowing your dad would probably check out the window 50 more times before you came back inside. 

Smiling to yourself as they shift closed again, you turn to the next page in your book. 

Roughly an hour later you realize you hadn't seen the curtains shift in quite some time. Hoping that he had been able to fall asleep, you turn another page in the book. Finally, you're at the last chapter. 

Before you can even read the first word on the page, you notice movement in the trees. You squint into the darkness, but to no avail, and attempt to return your attention to the book. Just as you glance back down, you notice the movement again, in the same area of the trees. Pursing your lips, you glance to the door beside you, and then back out into the darkness, debating whether you were really that stupid. 

Unfortunately, after reading several chapters following a rather dramatic tale, you decide that you ARE in fact... that stupid... 

You stand, book in hand, and move to place your hands on the porch railing, peering out into the darkness with eyes straining to make out the slightest shape. 

The soft creak of someone, or something, stepping onto the wooden porch startles you. Spinning around, you nearly bump into a tall figure. 

"Woah." He puts his hands on your shoulders in attempts to steady you, but immediately withdraws them when he notices your confused glare, holding them up defensively in front of him as he takes a step back. "I just wanted to come say hello." 

Looking him over curiously, you glance around him toward the front door, knowing you wouldn't be able to make it past him if anything were to happen. "Who are you?" 

With a somewhat cocky grin, he points a finger over your shoulder toward the woods, although you don't dare take your eyes off him. "I just bought the place through there. Was looking for a fixer-upper project." He shrugs, but when you seem less than impressed, he adds, "I didn't think anyone was here actually." 

Recalling a conversation with the gas station clerk earlier that afternoon, you allow your shoulders to somewhat relax. Afterall, it's not every day that a handsome man wonders onto your porch. "Yeah, I think I heard someone mentioning how it finally sold." 

He seems to take this as an invitation for further conversation. "Do you come out here often?" 

Eyeing him again, you take another step back to lean against the railing. "Is that some kind of line?" 

Quirking a brow, he takes a large step forward. "What if it is?" 

You shrug. "Is that how you charm all the strange women on porches?" 

He takes another, smaller step forward, stopping just in front of you. "Maybe I was just making polite conversation?" He glances around briefly before returning his attention to you, his lips turning up in that sexy smirk again. "It really is a nice place." 

Glancing around for yourself, a soft smile spreads across your features with fond memories. "Yeah, my dad bought it for my 16th birthday. It was our vacation spot for a long time, but we hardly come anymore." 

Nodding, he glances down, motioning in question to the book in your hand. Having honestly forgotten you were still holding onto it, you bring it to your chest, allowing him to read the cover. He raises a brow in question and cocks his head to the side, "Dracula?" 

Chuckling, you place the book lovingly on the railing beside you. "Yeah. Another birthday gift from my dad. He has a thing for vampire lore, but it's a great book, I've read it a bazillion times." 

"It's one of my favorites too." He glances at his watch. "I really didn't mean to barge in this late, if you have someone waiting inside..." He throws a thumb over his shoulder, offering to leave. 

You shake your head. "I'm pretty sure my dad already went to bed, but it IS getting pretty late, and I should probably do the same." Grabbing your book, you move to make your way past him toward the door. 

His footsteps tell you he's leaving, but just as you reach for the door handle, you hear his voice. "I would say it was great meeting you, but I don't think I ever got your name." 

Turning to face him, you tell him your name, which earns another one of his charming grins. He moves off the porch and begins to walk away, but you call after him, "Don't I get to know yours?" 

He turns to face you again, putting his hands in his pockets as he slowly saunters backwards. You can barely make out the details of his face anymore, but you swear his teeth seemed sharper as he cocks his head to the side and says, "You can call me Jerry." 




Chapter Text

Okay everyone, I promise I haven't abandoned any of my works, but I'm feeling extremely inspired after writing my last Drabble/one-shot (Chapter 31, Jerry Dandrige). I decided to turn it into a full fic! I used this drabble as the first chapter, and have it already posted, but will be leaving this chapter here as well. Just know that if you enjoyed the one-shot, there is a full fic being worked on for him!

Again, I promise I will still be posting to these Drabbles as well.

Chapter Text


The media had never really been a huge part of your life, which you supposed to be the one upside of being sent away as a child. When your parents died, you were only 2 years old, having been what everyone referred to as a 'happy accident' after a particularly romantic anniversary night. You don't remember much about them, other than what your adoptive family could tell you. 

In all honesty, you were almost jealous of the world. Everyone else seemed to know so much about your family, and yet you had been kept apart for most of your life. Although it was known the Stark's also had a young daughter, you seemed to have disappeared into the shadows, especially with your older brother, Tony, being the playboy party type. He seemed to take all the limelight for himself, but you can't really complain, you enjoyed being able to walk the streets without worry of being chased by paparazzi. 

Now in your mid-twenties, you felt a growing closeness with your brother. After the Avengers split up over the accord argument, he had sought you out in an attempt to mend what he believed to be an old wound. In his eyes, he had abandoned you to live with a family your parents had been quite close with, rather than raising you himself. felt the same for the majority of your early childhood. 

However, even though the Starks would always be your family, you also had to admit that you grew up with extremely loving parents, who were always there for you. They couldn't have children of their own, and cherished every moment with you, catering to your needs and nurturing your passions so that you could grow into the strong adult you are today. 

Tony couldn't believe it when you explained all this to him; you swear he was actually tearing up, but he claims it was the new contacts he was trying. 

Some time later, and with a lot of begging from Tony, he convinces you to move in with him in his new house. After making your first trip with a car full of boxes, you had realized Tony would never allow you to do any of the 'heavy lifting' yourself, which meant he had hired a bunch of people to decorate your room for you...  It was a sweet gesture, but you were somewhat relieved when he was called away to deal with some business elsewhere. 

He promised to be back in a few days, a week at the latest, and assured you that he would only be a phone call away. 

With all the unpacking already done for you, and the house now completely empty until Tony was able to return, you decide to take a little walk to get to know the area. 

Unfortunately, with all of the commotion your moving in had caused... it wasn't long into your walk before you realized you were being followed, one of the men actually tried cornering you for an interview. Not sure what to do with all the attention, you decide the only option is to run (obviously the mature, rational thing to do right?) Seeming to have lost them in the confusing series of turns you had made, you turn to find yourself standing in front of a rather charming little café. 

Intrigued, you decide to duck in, quickly taking a seat in one of the furthest booths in the very back until you can decide what to do next. You really didn't want to have to call Tony, and calling Happy for a ride would be even worse. 

With a sigh, you lean forward with your elbows on the table, running your hands down your face. 

"Excuse me?" 

You jump slightly at the man's voice beside you. 

"Sorry," He chuckles softly. "Didn't mean to startle you. I just know your face from somewhere, do we know each other?" 

Any hope of remaining unrecognized is dashed as you see his eyebrows raising in realization. Horror bubbles up through your chest, your heart racing as you shake your head, a pleading finger raising toward your lips to ask for his silence. 

"Aren't you-?" 

Before he can get the words out, you drag him into the booth with you, both cutting him off and causing him to somewhat lean over you. 

"If you could just raise your voice a little more, I don't think the people out in the street heard you." The sarcasm is dripping off every word, and your agitation clear even through your hushed whispering. 

Seeming more amused than surprised, his lips turn up in an admittedly charming grin. Which is around the time you realize how close he is; your face inches apart, one of his arms along the back of the booth, the other on the table. He must have been trying to avoid falling on top of you when you yanked him into the booth, but you feel the heat rise in your cheeks anyway. After all, it's not every day an extremely handsome older man is looking at you like this. 

You quirk a brow in return, deciding to challenge his unfaltering gaze as you clear your throat. He simply chuckles in response, but concedes to finally shift over just enough for you to let out the breath you were apparently holding in. 

"I must say," He glances you over once more, that grin still plastered across his features. "It's surprising to meet a celebrity that doesn't want attention." 

Rolling your eyes, you realize he must have seen you on the news or been one of your brother's old business partners. 

Studying your eyes, his smile falters, although only briefly before he shrugs off whatever had affected him. "Why are you hiding?" 

Sighing, you glance around the café again before turning your attention back to the strange man, your fascination growing with every second he remains seated next to you. "Look... I'm sorry I kinda freaked out." Your brows knit together as you take a deep breath, still taking the occasional glance toward the front door. "I'm just trying to lay low, and I only came in here to hide from paparazzi." 

"Ah." He raises his brows and nods as his smile broadens, a soft chuckle of understanding passing through his lips. (((See GIF at beginning of chapter))) "They can be hard to get used to." 

"Definitely..." You shake your head in frustration, earning a quizzical look from him. "Don't get me wrong, I knew I'd have to deal with this some day, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it." 

"Well," He offers his hand, which you take with full intention of a hand-shake, but find instead his lips pressing gently to your knuckles. "My name's Killian, and it's lovely to meet you Ms-" 

Your eyes go wide as you glance worriedly around the café, earning another chuckle from Killian as he cuts his sentence off purposefully. He motions around to the lack of people in the café, and their obvious obliviousness to anything else around them. 

"See?" He shrugs, "No one in here pays much attention." 

Feeling reassured, the tension in your shoulders eases, and you find yourself loosing track of time as you and Killian jump from topic to topic. The conversation flows so easily between the two of you, going from more series philosophical topics to stories that have you clutching your sides in laughter. Before you know it, several hours had passed and it was already getting dark out. 

With a glance at his watch, and a low sigh, he moves to stand at the edge of the booth. "I'm afraid I'd better get going." You move to exit the booth as well, and look up to see his hand offered to you. Taking it, he leads you toward the door, opening it for you and placing his hand gently at the small of your back as you both walk out onto the street. "I must admit, I haven't lost track of time like that in...." Stopping briefly, he chuckles and tilts his head to glance down at you. "Well I don't know that I ever have actually." 

Heat rises in your cheeks again, as you use a glance at your watch as an excuse to break away from his eyes. "I enjoyed it too, but I'd better get going myself." 

You move to walk away, but find his hand at your waist holding you in place, even pulling you a little closer as he motions toward a luxurious car parked on the other side of the street. "Why don't you let me give you a lift?" Before you can protest, he's already walking with you and opening the passenger door. "Really I insist, it's late and I can't let a beautiful lady walk home alone." 

Feeling both intrigued by this mysterious, handsome man and his charming demeanor, and relieved that you wouldn't have to walk home alone this late in the evening, you take his hand and lower yourself into the car. He shuts the door behind you, and is quickly in the driver's seat beside you. 

The next 10 minutes pass way too quickly for your liking, and when Killian seems to draw out what should have been a very short walk from his car to the front door, you hope he was feeling the same. 

"You know," He shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing you over as he seems to be fighting back a smile. The corner of his lips twitching up slightly anyway, and he shakes his head, bringing one of his hands up to run back through his hair. "I gotta admit... I did want you to get home safely, but I really just wanted to spend more time with you." 

"Oh really?" You giggle softly, finding him increasingly irresistible as he glances back toward his car with a chuckle in what seems to be an attempt to play off the light shade of pink across his cheeks. 

"I'm normally not like this, I swear." He meets your eyes again, the blush in his cheeks deepening and causing both of you to laugh. "Maybe I can see you again sometime?" 

"I'd like that." Your own smile seems contagious as his broadens. "Let me give you my number?" 

He hands you his phone, shifting closer to watch you put your info in his contacts. But when you hand it back, his fingers brush against yours, lingering briefly before he tucks his phone back in his pocket; his eyes not leaving yours as he leans in closer. You feel his hand caress your neck, and then his lips slowly moving against yours. 

His other hand moves around your waist, pulling you flush against him and deepening the kiss. You grip the collar of his shirt, causing him to smile into the kiss, but the alarmingly loud ring of your phone startles both of you, somewhat ruining the moment. 

"Sorry, that's my brother's ringtone I have to take it." You give him an appologetic look as you detangle yourself from each other, stepping back enough to take the call. "Hey Tony." 

Somehow, you manage to get off the phone rather quickly, but when you face Killian again he seems lost in thought. When he glances up, his face immediately breaks out into a soft smile, although it doesn't quite reach his eyes. 

He moves closer and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, "I'll call you tomorrow?" 

You nod in response, unsure why or how to explain it, but he felt a little off... 




Aldrich Killian POV:  

I knew I recognized her from somewhere, her face had been plastered across every tv all day. Something about a celebrity moving into town... But I hadn't paid much attention to the name. 

I knew Tony had a sister, how could I have not put the pieces together? 

How could I have been so stupid?! 

Of course the first woman I feel a real connection with would be her. Of COURSE she just HAD to be Tony Stark's little sister. 

Why did I have to go into that café today? 

Why did I have to feel such a strong pull toward her? 

I slam the car door behind me, trying to avoid looking back toward the house, not wanting to risk seeing her still standing there. Clenching my jaws, I take a deep breath and shift into gear, making my way back out toward the street. Out of pure habit I glance up toward the rear view mirror, and my heart leaps into my throat, as I watch her walking into the house. 

I can't rip my eyes away until after she's already closed the door, but the damage was already done. 

I try to swallow, but the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach refuses to settle. 

The entire plan would have to be changed...  

Chapter Text


It had taken a long time for you to get Hydra out of your head, and to be completely honest... you weren't sure they were entirely gone yet. 

For some odd reason, you and Bucky had always been close. The other soldiers would just follow orders, acting like robots that only existed to carry out their master’s wishes. But you and Bucky were different somehow. 

Even through the rigorous Winter Soldier Program training, you and Bucky always managed to sneak small glances, and the occasional smile. Something the other 5 seemed almost incapable of. For some reason, they turned out worse; colder; more calculating; like their emotions and empathy were completely turned off. 

You had done things, horrible things, but you were almost grateful to remember them. It reminded you of everything you had overcome, and the fate you managed to escape. 

Although, you didn’t have a clear memory of HOW you made it out. You only remembered waking up one day in a small room, Bucky sitting at the edge of the bed, watching every move you made with knitted brows and obvious strain behind hid guarded eyes. 

He was waiting for you to react, still unsure if you remembered him, maybe even wondering if Hydra had wiped you after the fall out with SHIELD and his disappearance. But before he could speak, you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms desperately around his shoulders, happy to finally feel his embrace in return; something you had both been denied all your years training together. 

The image still brings a smile to your face, but it wasn’t long before Captain America showed up, and all hell broke loose. Bucky had been blamed for murdering some King, but it was impossible, he had been rescuing you at the time, even though he still refused to explain HOW he got you back. 

You expected Cap to be suspicious, but all he did was insist on you calling him Steve instead. 

Fast forward and you were now watching the aftermath of the Avengers crumbling in on themselves before you had even really had time to fully understand who they all were. You had picked Bucky, meaning you were fighting with Steve and the rest of his team, which had earned you their friendship without any hint of doubt or question; if Bucky and Cap vouched for you, that was good enough. But your presence seemed only to fuel the fire of whatever rage was burning within the Iron Man that they fought, a man named Tony. 

Tony turned out to be a bitter sweet name to you over the course of the next few months. You had to watch as he almost killed your best friend, and then, when things finally seemed to calm down, Bucky had decided to go back into cryosleep in Wakanda. But... something emerged from the darkness, a sort of light, a blossoming of emotion within you. 

In your shared grief, and shared friendship of the man you both had to leave in Wakanda, you and Steve grew closer with every day. He had insisted on you staying with him, and this of course would lead to late nights talking. Sometimes you would even wake up to him carrying you, apparently having overheard you having a nightmare, to bring you to his bed for comfort. 

It started innocently enough, it really did. You sought comfort and friendship in each other, but as the months pass... 


Present Day:  

Warm, strong arms envelop you, stirring you from your sleep. You couldn’t recall any bad dreams tonight, nor were you covered in the usual cold sweat that accompanied your nightmares. 

Blinking in attempts to wake up, you watch quietly as Steve gently places you in his bed, then walks around to lay down next to you, his arms immediately finding their way around you again. 

He seems to sense your questioning glance, obviously not able to see your quirked brow in the darkness. “I’ve gotten used to having you in here...” 

“Steve,” You chuckle softly, “You can’t just wake me up every night to bring me in here.” 

Tightening his arms around you, he nuzzles softly into your neck, creating a strange shiver down your spine that you had been fighting to ignore lately. “Maybe you should just start sleeping in here then.” 

Pulling back slightly, your eyes finally adjust to the darkness enough to somewhat make out his face. His eyes bore into yours, seeming to search for your reaction, or any reaction for that matter. His brows knit together as he moves to turn away, but you stop him, placing a hand on his jaw to bring his gaze back to yours. 

He whispers your name softly, and before you can fully process what’s happening, his lips are pressed to yours. Your body reacts for you, your leg hitching up on his hip as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepens the kiss. 

Even knowing you had the same serum administered as he and Bucky, he still insists that you tell him if he ends up hurting you. Not sure what he meant, you agree cautiously. 

Almost immediately, he grips your knees and pulls you further down the bed so that he can situate his weight on top of you. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist, inviting him to press flush against you again. He seems hesitant, obviously still scared of hurting you. 

So, you plant your heels at either side and grip his shoulders for leverage, running one of your hands up through the back of his hair as you grind your hips upwards against his. 

Finally, his resolve seems to break. His head lulls forward as he shifts his weight to one arm, allowing the other to roam your body as you continue rolling your hips. 

His breathing grows heavy, coming in shallow, almost moan-like pants. And then he’s on you, pinning you to the bed with his body, grinding against you as he runs a hand along your thigh, hitching it up on his hip for you to wrap both of your legs around his waist. 

When his lips find your neck, you can’t help the arch that forms along your back, or the moans that spill from between your lips. This only seems to spur him on as he sits up only long enough to tug off your shirt before he’s back on you, his lips finding yours this time as your hands roam along his muscular shoulders and find their way to his back, where your nails drag down his skin, earning you the sexiest low growl you’ve ever heard make its way from his lips. 

You can’t take it anymore, you run both hands up through the back of his hair, tugging slightly so he looks you in the eyes, his pupils blown wide and lips swollen. He either reads your mind, or is at the same point of need as you. 

“Are you sure?” His voice is husky, which only makes you need him more. 

Unable to even form coherent words, you just nod and pull him back in for another deep kiss. His hand trails down your body, removing the last bit of clothing from between you before you finally feel him inside you. 

You let out a deep breath that you didn’t even realize you had been holding, and as he starts moving, your head falls back on the pillow. Various moans, and begging falling from your lips as you plead with him to move faster, beg him not to stop, urge him to keep going even though your legs are already shaking. It doesn’t take long to find out that his name is what really gets him the most. 

“Steve,” You moan. 

His entire body seems to stiffen briefly before he attacks your neck, finding your sensitive spot as he picks up the pace. The combined pleasure causing you to moan his name again, louder this time. 

Another growl escapes him, the sound so close to your ear sending goosebumps down your entire body. 

Digging your nails into his back, you feel yourself getting close, his name now spilling from your lips repeatedly, causing him to forget any sense of caution and instead slam into you as his breathing becomes more ragged. 

His hand covers your mouth as he leans in closer again, his teeth on your neck before whispering in your ear. “I can’t keep going if you keep saying my name like that...” 

You nod, agreeing to attempt holding your tongue. But it was already too late, moments later, you both come undone, and lay there panting, still tangled together. 

“Yep.” He breathes, pressing softer, sleepier kisses to your lips. “You’re definitely sleeping in here from now on.” 


Chapter Text

Okay guys, so I know this isnt a regular chapter, and I promise to post one on here soon as well as my Jerry Dandridge story, but I have a serious question... I'm feeling a bit down lately, and lacking inspiration, but I had an idea to start a new story that was of my own creation rather than based on already existing characters. Before I post anything though, I want to know if any of you would be interested in reading something like that on here, or if you know of anywhere that I could post some of it to be read.
I'm thinking modern day magic, like witches that text spells to themselves and put charms on their keys to avoid losing them, and vampires that don't necessarily even remember history because it was so long ago but they're pretty sure it didnt happen that way type of story.
If you'd be interested please let me know, and if you know anywhere that would be better suited for this kind of writing I would also be glad to hear of it.
Thank you so much for being patient, and for reading my content. :)


Chapter Text


Cynthia had called you, which wasn’t exactly uncommon, but you could by the lengthy silence and awkward attempt at small talk that this wasn’t the usual job. They needed you, and as much as you wanted to turn it down, you knew you had to go…

The team they had was some of the best, but things were starting to heat up more than initially planned. Starting a war between the Mexican cartels meant that no one could find out the government had sanctioned any of this, BUT, it also meant that everyone could ignore the red tape and rules. This was a free for all, and almost anything was allowed so long as it got the job done. While you were good at keeping within guidelines, you had inherited a habit of getting your hands dirty to get results.

You drag your pack out of the Humvee, shouldering it as you make your wait reluctantly toward the building. Several men cast glances as you walk by, and you can’t help but to hope they’re staring out of curiosity rather than recognizing your features. Not that it would matter in the long run, they would all find out soon enough, and there was no avoiding any of it as you round the ascend the steps toward the very person who had caused all this anxiety.

Cynthia smiles as she notices your presence, clearly relieved to have you officially joining the mission. Her reaction draws HIS attention… He turns, his curious expression quickly changing to surprise as he rises from his chair.

Attempting to bypass the unpleasant questions, you drop your pack on the table next to Cynthia, and shake her hand promptly before motioning around. “Care to read me in a bit more now that I’m here?”

The other man at the table interjects, “And who are you?”

Again, making the attempt to keep things moving, you step around to shake his hand as well. “I’m the newest addition to your team, Cynthia brought me on to-“

“She’s my fucking daughter, and she shouldn’t be anywhere near here.” HE finally speaks. His gaze hadn’t left you the entire time, but you had allowed yourself a small bit of hope that he wouldn’t make a big deal out of this.

With a roll of your eyes, you turn your attention back to the other man. “And you are?”

“Alejandro.” He states plainly, his eyes darting to your dad before returning to inspect you further.

“Wow, THE Alejandro?” You tilt your head, giving him a quick once over before placing your hands on your hips, a small grin tugging at your lips. “Matt’s talked about you a lot, I wasn’t sure what to expect if I ever met you.”

“Do you have to call me Matt?” Your dad grumbles, clearly more annoyed with your comment than about you calling him by his name.

“It’s your name isn’t it?” Sarcasm, yet another thing you inherited from him.

“Why is she here?” He turns to Cynthia, talking about you as if you aren’t even there, something he was well aware annoyed you.

“She can speak for herself thank you.” You interject, but Cynthia gives you a pleading look before you can continue.

She sighs and moves closer to Matt. “We need her, and you know it…” Glancing back at you, she takes him by the arm and leads him out of the room to talk more privately, leaving you and Alejandro alone.

Running a hand back through your hair, you take a deep breath to compose yourself. Then, grabbing your pack again, you turn your attention back to him. “So, where am I bunking?”

He leads you further upstairs to a small office-like room with a small bed in the corner.

You set your pack down on the bed and look out the large window down on the busy floor below you. Everyone was gearing up, but you couldn’t see your dad or Cynthia anywhere.

“I didn’t know Matt had a daughter your age.” Alejandro speaks up, almost startling you.

You hadn’t expected him to hang around after showing you to your space, much less to see him casually leaning against the door frame (((See GIF))).

Shrugging, you glance out the window again. “I guess he just liked it better when I was little, back before I got old enough to understand things.”

“It can be hard being a parent.” The tone of his voice changes slightly, drawing your attention. His eyes are fixed on you, your gaze meeting for a brief moment before he clears his throat and turns to leave.

He doesn’t get far. Your dad comes up the stairs just as Alejandro was about to walk down. “I think you two should sit this one out, we need someone here tonight. And before you start complaining,” He holds his hand up before you can even open your mouth. “We’re just doing light recon, so you won’t miss out on much.” He points to Alejandro, who was now standing with his arms crossed. “No matter how much you may want to, please don’t kill each other. Got it?”

You both nod, and your eyes habitually roll in annoyance as Matt leaves.

Watching the Humvees file out of the warehouse irked you more than you thought it would. It just rubbed you the wrong way to be left behind, especially with a babysitter – which is exactly what you knew your dad was doing by leaving Alejandro behind with you. He was someone your dad trusted, both to make sure you actually stayed behind, and as someone who wouldn’t try anything funny with his daughter.

You hated being treated like a helpless child, but you knew complaining about it would just make Alejandro more miserable than he already was. He clearly wasn’t thrilled about being left behind either, nor did he seem the conversational type.

After the last of the crew had gone, you decided to be proactive and beat the silence before it had a chance to drive you insane.

After changing out of the uncomfortable combat gear you had worn in expectations of being sent on a mission immediately, and into some extremely comfortable shorts and a tanktop, you find yourself feeling better already. Your portable speaker blares your favorite song, the tune echoing throughout the empty warehouse as you lay out an array of guns to be cleaned.

Keeping busy would keep you sane, and this was something you loved doing anyway.

You almost didn’t even realize you had started singing along, your hips moving on their own accord. That is, until you notice a small movement at the door and glance up to see Alejandro leaned against the frame again, his head tilted slightly.

“I didn’t mean to stare,” He apologizes, offering a meek smile as he moves further into the room the stand at the table opposite you. “You just… reminded me of someone.”

Not wanting to press the matter, but also wanting the company, you hand him a rag and motion to the row of guns laid out on the table next to you. Without a word, or even so much as a nod, he obliges.

You stay like that for a while; quietly working. Just the sound of metal clicking and sliding as you go through cleaning each firearm, your elbows occasionally brushing against each other.

One of your favorite songs comes on, and you again realize only too late that you had been mumbling and moving along to the familiar words. Glancing up, you blush apologetically, but find that he is actually smiling. Not just his usual apathetic excuse for a grin, but genuinely smiling at you.

You both laugh, but before you can pick up the next gun in the line, you feel his arm at your waist.

With a quirked brow, you allow yourself to fall into step with him. He either doesn’t notice your bewilderment, or decides to ignore it as he pulls you closer and moves to the rhythm of the song.

That he knows how to dance doesn’t come as a surprise, but that he is showing this side of himself to you seems very out of the ordinary.

You find yourself giggling as he spins you and pulls you back against him, your back flush to his chest and his hands on your hips. The song picks up again and he spins you to face him, pulling you again into his arms – albeit a bit rougher this time, almost taking your breath away.

He opens his mouth as if to apologize, but something about being pressed against each other like this… your hearts both pounding against each other, his hands at the small of your back, holding your body firmly against his own, your lips seeming much closer with every breath.

One of his hands slides up your side slowly, guiding your arm up to hitch around his neck before returning to pull at your lower back, causing you to arch into him slightly.

Your breath hitches as his lips brush against yours, his pupils seeming almost completely black as he watches for your reaction.

Gripping at his shirt with your other hand, you pull him into the kiss. It starts light and breathy, almost slow as you both hesitate between every parting of your lips.

You run both of your hands up through the back of his hair, which seems to be the last sign he needed. He deepens the kiss, his hands sliding down to grip your ass and lift you up for your legs to go around his waist. Before you can even take another breath, your back is being pressed into the wall, causing a low moan to escape your lips.

You can’t help but to tug lightly at the back of his hair, your kissing becoming sloppier as both of your breathing grows heavier.

Before you know it, the wall is gone, and you feel the bed beneath you as Alejandro resituates himself on top of you. Your legs hitch higher, wrapping tighter around his waist to pull him close. He seems to take the hint, and grinds his hips into yours, causing you to arch your back and moan.

He runs his free hand along your thigh, “I hope you know…” His voice seems even deeper, a sexy, husky tone to it as he whispers into your ear, sending chills down your spine. “You’ve been driving everyone crazy with these long legs since you got here.”

“Oh yeah?” You mean it as a question, but it comes out more as a breathy moan than anything else.

A low growl sounds in your ear as his response, his hips grinding against yours again, this time coaxing a longer, louder moan to spill from your lips. Your inhibitions and self-control completely go out the window as you find yourself ripping his shirt, sending a button or two flying in the process, which neither of you seems to mind as you help each other undress the rest of the way.

He tosses the last of your clothing to the other side of the room, raking his eyes over you as he guides your legs to wrap back around his waist.

One of your hands roam up his chest, lightly trailing your nails along his skin the entire way before reaching up to tangle in his hair, and the other finds its way to his hip, tugging impatiently.

With a soft chuckle, he presses a soft, sensual kiss to your lips before brushing the hair from your face. “Are you sure?”

You nod and nip playfully, taking his bottom lip gently between your teeth before continuing the kiss.

He groans and grips your leg before pulling away again. “Are you really sure?”

“Yes sir.”

It was habit more than anything, the ‘sir’ portion just flowed off your tongue as the natural thing to follow any ‘yes’ response. But his brows furrow and that sexy low growl sounds in your ear again as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips almost immediately finding the sensitive skin there.

You moan his name and tug at his hips with growing impatience, and he finally obliges.

Chapter Text


You had been staying with your dad for some time now, although it took you a while to get back into the swing of the hunter lifestyle. He wasn’t thrilled about you rejoining this world, but he definitely loved having you back at home. And as always… he was extremely overprotective.

Even though you constantly begged him to let you help out more with hunts, he kept putting you off with promises of ‘next time’. Not that it surprised you, but you were more than certain he was coming up with excuses both to keep you safe, and to keep you away from the Winchesters. As much as he loved those boys, he obviously didn’t trust them around you.

However, being the daughter of someone so stubborn… that trait tends to rub off.

One day, you couldn’t help but to overhear a phone call he was having with Dean. He was giving him some advice on a new case they had caught, one that you remembered doing some research for. In fact… you could swear it was somewhere nearby.

Furrowing your brows, you hold your breath and strain to hear what Dean may be saying on the other end of the line. While you barely catch a few words here and there, it’s enough to confirm your suspicion, especially when your dad starts cussing up a storm about Dean needing to wait for Sam before charging in without a plan like an ‘idgit’.

That’s all you needed to hear.

Later that night, long after Bobby had already fallen into a peaceful sleep – something that seemed more frequent now that you were back home – you slip your already packed bag onto your shoulder. Luckily, you had recently helped him restore an old motorcycle, making for an easier get away. You could just roll it out to the road before starting it up, and he wouldn’t even hear you riding off.

Part of you felt guilty gliding down the dark backroads, the directions seared into your brain from starring at the map so long. Maybe it was because you were nervous, or maybe because you were so excited, but the trip took no time at all, and you find yourself killing the engine to roll up along the edge of the old factory.

Having done the majority of the research for the case, you already know exactly what to expect, but that doesn’t quiet the hammering of your heart violently pounding against your ribcage.

The initial plan was to wait for Dean to show up, and join him on the hunt. You simply wouldn’t give him a choice, he would have to let you tag along since you were already here. Not to mention, you had brought extra supplies. The plan was flawless!

But… time seems to drag on, and Dean is nowhere to be seen.

You check your watch, and purse your lips as you crane your neck to scan the area one last time to no avail. With a sigh, you move to roll your bike back out to the road, but before you can call it quits, several gunshots ring out from inside.

Ears perked, you wait… The sound of glass shattering splits the silence, and you grab two guns from your bag, one to keep ready and one to holster in your belt for backup.

The abandoned factory seems eerily still, and you start to wonder if you had wanted this so bad that perhaps… you had possibly imagined the sounds?

But a loud clang sounds further down the hall, followed by a groan sounding disturbingly like Dean.

You rush forward, trying to keep quiet but knowing you need to hurry. Before you can round the corner, you feel a sharp pain at the back of your head followed by little black spots dancing along your field of vision.

You aren’t quite sure when it happened, but as you blink away the water forming in the corners of your eyes, you realize you’re on your hands and knees. Shaking your head was a big mistake; everything spins and a loud ringing drowns out other sounds.

Slowly, someone’s voice breaks through. You hear your name being yelled, as though someone was trying to speak underwater.

With a strange ‘pop’, everything clears, and you turn to see the unconscious body of Dean strewn limply across a table. Before things can possibly go fuzzy again, you ring off 3 quick shots in succession, seeming to surprise the vampires on the receiving end.

Slipping your knife from your boot, you stand and make your way to the closest vamp, his eyes still watching you as he lays motionless on the floor. “Bullets are infused with dead man’s blood, asshole.”

Before any of them can begin you heal, you make quick work removing their heads and tossing them into a nearby trashcan.

Finding the Impala wasn’t easy, but dragging a very heavy, very unconscious Dean Winchester all the way out to it and managing to get him in the passenger seat was absolutely ridiculous.

You hated to leave your bike, but Dean was the priority right now, even if it meant driving him straight back home…

Whether Bobby was more angry or surprised, you can’t say for sure. Seeing you frantically standing at the front door in the middle of the night, when he thought you were safe and sound in your bed seemed to lean more on the surprised side. But… when he looks over your shoulder and sees the Impala, things start to veer along the lines of anger. When you grab his arm and drag him to the car, showing him Dean’s still unconscious form, he just seems focused.

The night passes slow, neither you nor your dad able to go to bed while Dean was still like this.

You almost expected a scolding, but he seemed somewhat placated with the small white lie you provide: Dean had called asking for help, and didn’t want Bobby to play the ‘I told you so’ card.

As wrong as it felt lying to your dad, you thought it would be easier this way rather than having him realize you ran off to join the hunt on your own accord without telling ANYONE.

Besides, if you hadn’t been there, who knows what would’ve happened to Dean?

Lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t notice the light stirring on the couch until Dean moves to sit up.

You jump up, quickly placing a hand on his chest to ease him back down on the couch. “Woah there, you’ve been out a while you should take it easy.”

He looks up at you with those big green eyes, his brows furrowing slightly, “What the hell?” He glances around the room, then seems to notice the dried blood gathered along the edge of your hair.

His face falls as he reaches a hand up, but you stand before he can reach you. “I’ll get you some water.”

You pass the kitchen entirely, moving instead to the bathroom to clean the blood away. With the rag damp, you turn the faucet off, leaving you in the quiet to gently dab away the dried clots. But it also allows you to hear the conversation from the other room…

Your dad is obviously agitated about Dean having called you, especially since you got hurt. “-a dumb thing to do. She could have been killed!”

A painful lump rises in your throat and your heart pounds as you wait, straining to hear Dean’s response. There’s no doubt in your mind he will set things straight. He didn’t call you, and you were foolish to think you could ever get away with telling your dad such a ridiculous lie in the first place.

But… Dean apologizes. “It won’t happen again, Bobby. But she did save my bacon back there…”

With a weight suddenly lifted from your shoulders, you turn your attention back to rinsing your hair. You almost get all of it cleaned out by the time Dean rounds the corner to stand at the door. He watches you for a moment, neither of you saying a word as you try to think of a way to thank him for going along with your ruse.

Furrowing his brow, he opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it again and steps closer. Turning to face him, you feel a light heat rising in your cheeks. A combination of shame and gratitude bubbling in your chest, leaving you unable to meet his gaze.

With a sigh, he grabs the damp towel from the sink counter, and gently places his knuckle under your chin to tilt your head just enough where he can lightly dab at the last specs of blood. You can’t help but to watch him, your curiosity getting the better of you as you allow yourself to study his expression, still wildly uncertain as to why he covered for you.

He sets the rag back in the sink, but keeps his eyes locked on the side of your head, as if he was worried it would start to spontaneously pour blood again if he didn’t keep watch. With another deep sigh, he moves closer and tilts his head to meet your gaze, his eyes boring into yours with a questioning knit to his brow. (((See GIF)))

“Why?” He asks, but before you can even think about turning away, he tilts your head further up and gently caresses your neck with his other hand, forcing you to stare back at him. “Why would you risk yourself for me?”

You shrug your shoulders softly, “Why would you cover for my lying ass?”

A whisper of a smile ghosts along is lips briefly before returning to their previous straight line. “You got away lucky, you could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

You quirk your brow, “If I recall correctly, I ‘saved your bacon’ by being there.”

He chuckles softly, “That doesn’t quite let you off the hook.”

“I can take care of myself Winchester.” You smile playfully, hoping the banter would ease the tension.

His brow knits together again as he moves even closer, his thumb lightly trailing along your bottom lip. “I don’t like seeing you get hurt, especially not while trying to help me.” You open your mouth to protest, but he continues, “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you…”

Before you can even think about responding, his lips brush hesitantly against yours. Both of his hands now caressing your face as his eyes search for a reaction.

Your lips part, seeming to give him the answer he needed as he presses into the kiss.