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annabethy · 3 years

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under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 25: wishes

Character A has a wish, and Character B makes it come true

It’s a fleeting moment when he hears her for the first time. A mere whisper in the dark of a room when there is no one but them. It’s quiet in their bed, Annabeth wrapped in his arms in his attempt to protect her from the outside world, and he almost thinks it’s his imagination.

“Do you have a wish?”

Percy’s mind is ripped from far away back to this moment. His fingers brush up and down her spine, tracing the smooth skin, each individual curve of bone, and he thinks of a response. It takes a moment of silence before he can properly speak. “A wish?” Annabeth nods and presses a light kiss to his collarbone. “A wish. Just something you wish you could do?” “A Christmas wish?” He laughs a little.

“Something like that,” she agrees.

He shifts in his position on the bed, the creaking loud in the silence of the room. “Do you?”

“I do, actually.”

It surprises him because he’s never known her to have wishes. Annabeth has always been a bit headstrong, and that’s one of the things he fell in love with. She takes what she wants, so to think that there’s something she wants but doesn’t have feels… different.

“What’s your Christmas wish?” he asks teasingly, brushing his lips along the curve of her ears.

“I’m not going to tell you if you’re just going to make fun of me,” she pouts.

“Come on,” he prompts, “tell me.”

“I want one day to live my life.”

“You always live your life,” he tells her. “It’s what we do.”

She makes a sound of disagreement. “We survive, but it’s the same thing every day. We wake up, and we study, and come home to each other. I love it, but I want something different. Just one day where we are just with each other, and the rest of the world can be forgotten.” “So you want a day that we can spend together, not a care in the world? To forget the world?”

“Doesn’t it sound amazing?”

“It does,” he agrees. “I’m glad you included me in your wish.”

“You’re always included in my wishes,” she says. “You’re a part of my life, and I love you.” It makes him smile, hearing those words from her. “Then I don’t see why we can’t make your wish come true.”

She shrugs. “It’s not easy to just get up and leave everything, even if it’s for a day. There’s always going to be someone or something that needs us.”

“But that’s the point of your wish, isn’t it? To forget everything and just breathe.”

“I suppose.”

They fall back into silence for a moment, and he doesn’t mind. It gives him a chance to think of her wish. He wants to do it for her, because she’s Annabeth, and she deserves it. He’s determined to do it too, so he asks, “What would forgetting the world mean? What exactly do you want to do?”

She breathes, and a smile forms on her face. “Everything.”

“Everything?”

“I want to go ice skating and walk around Times Square. I want to look at the Christmas lights and play in the snow. I want to make dumb decisions, maybe even get married on a whim—”

Percy laughs at that.

“I want the world.”

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” he says. He turns so that he can hover over her and capture her lips with his. It’s slow and sweet, like they have all the time the universe has to offer. “I promise.”

And he really does promise.

He wants to plan a day to do it, but he quickly learns it defeats the purpose. It adds onto the pile of things to do and worry about. He thinks that she forgets what she said, and he doesn’t blame her. It was mindless babbles in the darkest hours of the night. It was a sharing of her deepest dreams, and if he had been her, he wouldn’t have actually expected it.

That’s what made Christmas morning so much more special.

It starts with stolen kisses in the early hours of the morning. It’s a white Christmas, snow falling from the sky. Light filters in through the blinds, covering her body in brightness, and it somehow makes her impossibly more beautiful.

“Good morning, princess,” he whispers into her ear before continuing to place kisses all around her face.

She stretches her legs and arms, smiling with her eyes closed as his lips trace her jaw.

“Are you awake?”

“I might be,” she says.

“I need you to wake up for me.”

“It’s too early,” she complains. “It’s Christmas. You’re supposed to let me sleep in.”

“Not when we have a whole day of plans ahead of us.”

One eye blinks open at that. “I didn’t know we had plans?”

He gives her a knowing grin. “Merry Christmas.”

He keeps it a secret from her until they get to the ice skating rink. It’s not until they’re inside that she rolls her eyes fondly, and she understands his plan.

“My wish?”

“You said you wanted a day for us, so that’s what you’re going to get.”

They laugh together as they struggle to get the skates on. Her eyes are on the laces and his are on her. Slowly, he falls deeper in love, and the box in his pocket burns at the contact.

As they slide onto the ice, Percy nearly busts his tailbone, and Annabeth laughs at him. They circle the rink slowly, Percy practically hugging the wall, until they get the hang of it. Percy and Annabeth are hand in hand, speeding past the people around them, and Annabeth’s gleeful laugh is a melody in his ears. Her hair flies past her in the wind, a mess of tangles and knots, and he has to resist smoothing it down.

Percy turns his feet in to come to a slow stop, and he swings Annabeth around to stand in front of him. They’re along the edge of the ice when he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close. She leans against his chest and lets him press a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“Not as much as I love you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mh-hm.”

And god, this is the woman he is meant to marry. He can hardly wait.

Hours fly by, and she thinks that this is their day. She’s content with it, he can tell, but she is the love of his life and deserves to much more. He practically has to pull her away from the ice, and she resists at first until she takes one look at his face, a promise of what is yet to come.

It doesn’t take long for them to make their way to Times Square. They take in the bustling streets filled with blinding lights. They walk and walk until the sun begins to set, intertwined hands swinging between them. It’s icy outside, so she’s curled in his side as they walk. Percy is warm, but for more than just the contact. He feels heat racing through him because time is ticking, and it’s only so long before he bends down on one knee. He feels warmth for this impossible love they’ve created – a love he’d die for.

They find their way to Central Park. There is a relatively fresh coat of snow, and he takes them to a more secluded area, away from the wandering families. They leave fresh footprints in the white snow, and the box holding the ring is unable to be ignored.

“Are we going to have a snowball fight?” Annabeth asks playfully. “I’ll kick your ass.”

“I know you would which is why I do not want to have a snowball fight.”

“Wimp.” “Simp,” he corrects.

“You’re both, actually.”

Percy pushes her shoulder softly. “Didn’t you say you wanted to also get married today?”

“Yeah, but that would mean you actually have to propose. Do you plan on proposing?”

She’s not looking at him, so he can tell she isn’t being serious. It pinpoints exactly what’s about to happen though, so he takes a moment to compose himself so that his voice doesn’t waver and ruin the surprise.

Thankfully, she moves off from that conversation as she turns back to him. “Can we make snow angels at least?”

He laughs lightly. “I mean, the snow would soak through your clothes, but go for it.”

“You have to do it with me,” she complains.

“Babe, we’re going to get sick if we lay in the snow, and people are going to think we’re insane.”

“You said you’d lay with me and forget the world,” she accuses.

He shakes his head with a subtle smile, but he gets to the ground with her. She leans back, and he does too, but they don’t make snow angels. Instead, he holds his arm out and lets her rest her head against his shoulder.

“We’re going to get hypothermia,” he tells her.

“At least we can do it together. It’ll be a fun bonding experience.”

“Nothing brings two people together like lost limbs.”

“You get me,” she says, a hand over her heart. She rubs her face against him as she begins to shiver.

“Cold already?”

“No,” she lies, snuggling closer to him.

“So you’re not shivering?”

“Not a chance.”

“You’re just shaking because you’re excited you know I’m going to propose today?”

She snorts. “Sure.”

“I’m serious. You don’t believe me?” “Should I?”

“You said that today you wanted to go ice skating, walk around Times Square, and look at pretty Christmas light, all of which we did. The only thing left is getting married.” “Getting married,” she says, laughing. “I didn’t say a proposal.”

“We can do both,” he suggests.

“I would love that.” She’s not looking at him, still staring up at the dark sky. There are no stars to be seen, but Percy doesn’t mind because the only stars he needs are in her eyes.

Percy nudges her up, and she looks around confused.

“What are you doing?”

It’s then that he shoves his hand into his pocket, fingers wrapping around the box. He pulls it out slowly, and her entire face changes.

“Percy.” “Yes, love?”

“What is that?”

“I already told you.”

She presses her lips together to try and smother the smile that’s forming, but it’s too late because her lips are already turning upwards. He moves so that he’s facing her, and then gets down on one knee, and now the smile is taking over both of their faces.

“Annabeth…”

“Percy.”

“I love you so much,” he starts, “and today has been one of the best days of my life. Every moment I’m with you, I’m able to forget the world. I want every day to be like this – I want the rest of our lives to be like this. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She laughs, teary eyed, and he opens the box.

“Annabeth Chase… Will you marry me?”

Tears fall from her eyes as she throws her head back and laughs, and then she’s nodding her head and pulling him in for a kiss. Against him, she says, “I’d love to.”

So he slides the ring onto her finger, and it fits perfectly. It is a symbol of their love. They have a love so strong and so powerful, and they were made for each other. They are each other’s halves, and it was always meant to be like this.

They are Percy and Annabeth, together as one.

He kisses her with everything he has because she deserves the world. He wants to give her himself, his mind, body, soul, because it’s always been the two of them and nothing else.

This moment is as ephemeral as the day she first told him about her wish. She wanted to forget the world, and he wanted to give her just that. Until this moment, he thought he did forget the world to just be with her, but now as he kisses the love of his life, he isn’t so sure that it’s true.

Annabeth Chase is his world, and she always will be. Percy can forget everything else, but Annabeth is not a person he can simply forget.

She is in his heart, burned into his mind, and she is his forevermore.

#percy jackson #annnabeth chase #percabeth #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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ao719 · 5 years

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Unexpected

Unexpected - Hold It Against Me (Chapter 3)

Characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them.

Title inspiration: Hold it Against Me - Sam Tsui

Summary: One explosive night in New York leads to unexpected thoughts and feelings when Riley shows up in Cordonia.

A/N: 🍋

Warnings: This series will be very NSFW. If you read, you acknowledge you are 18 or over.

Catch up here

Tags: @bobasheebaby @hopefulmoonobject @zaffrenotes @cocomaxley @gardeningourmet @blackcoffee85 @gibbles82 @annekebbphotography @sweetest-marbear @wannabemc2 @indiacater @liamxs-world @smalltalk88 @damienswhore @aworldoffandoms @classylady1234 @kazdog75-blog @lodberg @umccall71 @explorer-of-gems @carabeth @thequeenofcronuts @romanticatheart-posts @jared2612 @custaroonie @drakesensworld @perfectprofessorherokid @blznbaby @iplaydrake @be-still-my-aching-heart @moneyfordiamonds @the-soot-sprite @ladyangel70 @lynne1993 @kate-mckenzie @ruka-uchiha @emichelle @princess-andromeda-nazario @mfackenthal @cgd03 @dcbbw @elles-choices @debramcg1106 @sirbeepsalot @choiceslife @lovemychoices @riseandshinelittleblossom @gnatbrain @superharrietsuper @eileendannie

Riley stared out the window on the ride up to Lythikos, a quieter ride than normal considering Bertrand had stayed behind to deal with some things for house Beaumont, so it would be a nice couple of days without him pointing out every little thing she was doing wrong. While Maxwell listened to his music with his headphones on, Riley used the silence to try and sort through the feelings she found herself having for both Liam and Drake. She didn’t feel stronger for one more than the other, just differently, their difference in personalities coming through in these feelings. She had been able to spend more time with Drake because of Liam not having as much freedom as he did, which she understood. The night she had with Drake was floating in her mind as well, the way he made her feel and what happened between them.

She wasn’t sure how either felt about her, neither one having mentioned anything. When she told them both how she felt the night of the masquerade, that she found herself having some kind of spark and connection with each of them which is why she had agreed to come in the first place, they didn’t say how they felt in return, or if they felt anything at all. All they had said was that things were different here, so she wasn’t sure exactly where either of their heads were at when it came to her. The most she got was out of Liam that night in the garden maze when he told her hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since their time in New York and she couldn’t stop thinking about that time either, if she were being honest. Even now, what happened between the three of them was still sitting there. When she was with one or the other, that night would flash behind her eyes, remembering the feel of both of them touching her, both their lips on her at the same time, both of them making her lose complete control. It seemed that both of them were on her mind regardless of who she was with which just caused more confusion as she tried navigating through these feelings.

They arrived in Lythikos and pulled up to the front of the lodge, Maxwell glancing across the grounds to the pond as he slipped out of the limo. “Alright, little blossom, we need to hurry up and get dressed!” Maxwell stated as he helped her out.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” She chuckled.

“Because everyone else is already here and out on the ice, including Liam.”

“Ok,” she laughed as they walked through the foyer and started up the stairs.

Drake sat inside near the fireplace staring out the window watching Liam ice skate on the pond with Olivia and heard Riley’s laugh carry through the room, his head snapping over just as she disappeared from view. He ran his fingers through his hair, flashes of their night together hitting him. Then Liam that morning on the way up there, asking him where he had been that he missed their meeting time in his chambers and Drake lied right to his face, something he had never done. He just wasn’t sure what these thoughts about Riley meant, how he was feeling or what to even do about them. She was a suitor of Liam’s. At the end of the day, could he even have her if he wanted to? And then there was Liam. He wasn’t sure if Liam felt anything for Riley either. If he did, he hadn’t mentioned it to him. And there was also his and Liam’s relationship, one that Riley knew nothing about, not knowing that they were much more than friends and that they had been for years. Maybe he was still treating Riley as a reprieve away from everything else he was feeling, trying to take his mind off the fact that the person he loved had to choose a future that didn’t include him in it.

Liam skated on the ice with Olivia talking over general conversation, Olivia prying to see if she could get him to spill about anyone in particular that he was taking a liking to out of the suitors. She and Liam had been friends since they were children, and while she would help him out if needed, only if absolutely necessary, she didn’t want the crown and Liam was well aware. She did, however, notice him watching a certain mysterious American. She knew all about Liam meeting her in New York while there for his bachelor weekend with the other guys, Maxwell having told her the night of the masquerade, but she was completely unaware of what happened between him, Riley and Drake that night, not even Maxwell knowing.

“What’s the deal with Lady Riley?” Olivia glanced over quirking her brow as she skated alongside him.

“What about her?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Liam. I see the way you look at her.”

Liam softly chuckled. She knew him far too well for him to be able to keep secrets from her. ”I’m attracted to her. I like spending time with her.”

“You’re falling for her.” She looked over giving him a curious look, a subtle smirk playing on her lips.

“So soon? No, very doubtful, Liv. I enjoy her company. I’m still getting to know her.”

Just then Liam happened to glance over and see Drake sitting on a bench at the edge of the pond. He was still finding himself curious about him not showing up to his chambers. He was trying to not let it fill his mind too much, considering he had his own secrets. But he couldn’t help but wonder if he was questioning it because he was jealous that he may have been with Riley, or was it the other way around and he was jealous because Riley was with him. Could it be both? Could he be jealous of the two people, who had been on his mind incessantly, being together...without him?

His eyes flickered over to the other side to see Riley walking across the snow covered grounds with Maxwell, able to see her brilliant smile as she and Maxwell laughed about something he was saying, and he felt that flutter. What is it about her that intrigues you so damn much, he questioned to himself as he continued to stare at her. He watched as her and Maxwell walked to the edge of the pond coming onto the ice, Maxwell skating backwards in a circle around her, Liam smiling as he heard her laugh carry across the pond.

“Ok, I’m going to try and distract Olivia so you can get some time to skate with Liam. Get ready,” Maxwell shot her a wink and she chuckled as he skated off. He began skating around Olivia and she saw Liam’s gaze land on her as he began to make his way towards her on the ice.

Riley moved on her skates meeting Liam in the middle. “Hello,” he smiled as he leaned down kissing her cheek.

“Hi,” she smiled up at him.

“Come to skate with me today?” He grinned.

“That was the idea,” she chuckled. He held out his hand, Riley placed hers into it and they began skating around the pond.

Drake sat on the bench watching the two of them skate together, Liam’s hand laced through hers. He felt this small twinge of jealousy, but he wasn’t sure why. Was it Liam or her that he was jealous of? This is insane, he shook his head. He knew that Liam would be skating with all the suitors at some point that day, knowing he was trying to be fair to everyone. But none of the others mattered, Riley did. Maybe it was because of what they all shared that night in New York. Or what he and Liam had shared for years. Or what he and Riley had shared the night before and how he found himself constantly thinking about her. He loved him, but he found that she was flooding his mind and he felt as though he was drowning in her.

“I’m glad I got to skate with you,” Liam glanced over at her smiling.

“Me too. I know you’re probably going to be busy while we’re here. So I’ll gladly take a few moments,” she chuckled.

“I will be busy...but I’d still like to try and spend some one on one time with you,” he stared over at her.

“Well this is Olivia’s turf...as the host, I’d assume she’ll probably be the one scooping up most of that time.”

“Olivia is a very dear friend...we have been since we were kids. That’s why we’re so close. But I’m sure I can manage to sneak in some time,” he smiled warmly at her.

“I guess we’ll see what happens,” she grinned.

Later that evening after skating and skiing, everyone headed inside the lodge to warm up. Riley sat with Maxwell by the fireplace with a cup of hot nog in her hands warming them up, the steam rising from the top of mug warming her face as she held it close. Drake sat off in a quiet corner, Riley watching him as every now and then his eyes would glance down at his watch before coming back up. They met hers at one point, Drake giving her a subtle nod with a hidden smile behind his tumbler of whiskey as she returned her own. She watched Drake’s eyes move just past hers before hearing his soft laugh from the other side of the room and looked over to see Olivia and Liam walking up the grand staircase of the lodge, overhearing Olivia talking about a private tour for him before they disappeared from view. She turned back looking at Drake who seemed to heave a sigh before he tossed back his drink.

A short time later while her and Maxwell were talking about the events of the day she watched as Drake stood from his chair after giving his watch one final glance, threw on his coat as he walked past them moving to the front door and headed outside. She turned her head back looking out the window wondering where he was going in the dark with a storm looking to near. “I’ll be back,” she smiled at Maxwell before setting her mug down and heading for the door, slipping her coat on before heading outside. She followed the footprints in the snow that were left behind by Drake and lit up by the moon before she came to a small clearing in the trees. “Drake?” She called.

Drake came into view, a slight look of surprise on his face. “Brooks...what are you doing out here?”

“I came out to see what you were doing...in the snow...in the dark...” she gave him a curious look.

He looked at her for a moment. “If you want to know...you gotta trust me.”

“Ok...” her voice was hesitant, not really understanding. Drake flashed a quick smirk when suddenly he shoved her backwards, Riley letting out a small yelp before she landed in a pile of snow. “Drake! What the fu-“ she stopped as her eyes landed on the star filled sky, a soft gasp escaping her.

“You were saying?” He landed next to her with a thud in the snow.

“This is incredible!” She smiled.

“Nothing beats a clear view of the sky during a meteor shower.”

“Glad I didn’t miss this.”

“I didn’t want to miss it before the storm came. I used to do this on my camping trips I took every year with my dad. After he passed...Liam kind of took over the tradition...we would watch the meteor showers every year.” Riley glanced over at him as he stared up at the sky, more curiosity growing about Drake and Liam and their time together, but again she didn’t feel like it was her place to ask. She looked back up, now realizing that with the social season, Liam was busy and Drake was coming out to watch the shower...alone.

“Well, I’m glad I could see it. So, thanks for pushing me in the snow,” she chuckled.

They laid there in silence for a short while before Drake let out a sigh. “Well, I should get you back inside before I get in trouble for making one of the prince’s suitors freeze to death.” He stood and extended his hand down to her and she took it, Drake pulling her up from the snow. She stared up at him for a moment and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the thoughts he was having of her, or because she was the one who came out there tonight instead of Liam, or maybe it was a mixture of both, but before he knew what was happening, his lips were pressed against hers in a long lingering kiss. They parted and he looked down at her taking a breath. “Thanks...for following me out when you didn’t have to...”

“Sure,” she softly smiled.

The following evening after spending the day mingling during a brunch that Olivia had put together for the court, Riley was in her room after showering, getting dressed and ready for the ball. She slipped on a white silk halter top gown with a plunging v-neck front. “Thank god for fashion tape...” she mumbled as she adjusted herself standing in front of the floor length mirror. Maxwell had brought the gown to her earlier that day and she knew it was because Bertrand wasn’t there. She asked him if he thought it was a bit too revealing to which he replied that he saw Olivia’s dress and it was no different. “She’s the host...she’s supposed to stand out,” she grumbled again as she smoothed her hand over the front where she had stuck the tape to the inside of the gown. She checked her hair one last time which was pulled loosely back into a low updo with a few small strands falling to frame her face, giving herself one last glance before grabbing the fur wrap and heading downstairs.

Drake stood at the bottom of the stairs speaking with Maxwell who was waiting for Riley to escort her in. He glanced up seeing movement at the top of the stairs and his eyes slightly widened. Jesus, Brooks. She looked picture perfect for the ball, her dress showing off not too much, but just enough. Drake glanced over to see Maxwell grinning as she made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Little blossom! You look amazing!” He beamed at his dress selection proudly as she gave him a smile.

“Thanks...if I don’t slip out of this during the first waltz, I’ll consider tonight a success.” She pulled the wrap over herself.

“It looks great, I promise!” Maxwell chuckled. “Right, Drake?”

Riley looked over at him as he simply nodded his head before tossing back the rest of his drink. “I’m gonna go grab a refill.” He hastily turned walking into the ballroom, Riley hiding a laugh.

“Ready?” Maxwell asked holding out his arm. She adjusted the wrap so it hung across her back and draped over the creases in her arms before giving him a nod, linking her arm through his.

Liam stood at the front of the ballroom, a few of the suitors standing around him making general conversation as Olivia stood by him willing them to shut up. She was already sick of hearing about poodles and the night hadn’t even begun. She watched Liam carry on these conversations, entertaining them, giving him major credit because she would have walked away by now. She saw his eyes move, looking beyond a yapping Penelope to the doors of the ballroom and followed his rapt gaze to see what he was staring at, a subtle smirk playing on her lips once she saw her. Well, she can certainly wear a dress.

Liam couldn’t peel his eyes away from Riley as she walked in with Maxwell, something about her that night instantly catching his eye, not that she hadn’t before since she had arrived, but suddenly everything seemed to shift, almost as if he were seeing her for the first time. She looked undeniably stunning in her gown, his eyes roaming down her body, swallowing hard as she laughed with Maxwell when they walked in. “Ex-Excuse me, Lady Penelope...” he stepped past her, eyes locked on his target as he weaved his way through the crowd. Olivia flashed a smirk at Penelope’s taken aback expression.

Riley felt Maxwell gently squeeze her arm and she looked up to see Liam as he approached. “Your highness,” she curtsied before looking back up at him. She saw his eyes wandering over her.

“Lady Riley,” he softly smiled as he leaned in kissing her cheek. “You look absolutely incredible,” he whispered in her ear, a slight blush rising to her cheeks. “Maxwell,” Liam grinned as they shook hands.

“Thank you,” Riley smiled up at him.

“We better get to our table, little blossom,” Maxwell stated. “Dinner is about to start.”

“Right...” Riley was still staring up at Liam.

“Save me a dance?” Liam smiled at her and she nodded. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I look forward to it.”

Drake sat at his table watching Riley talking to Liam, or rather watching Liam talking to Riley...he wasn’t sure which one. There was no doubt about how good she looked that night, and it was clear that Liam had noticed it as well, evident from the way he was looking at her, but he couldn’t quite tell what that look he was giving her meant. She turned away from Liam, her and Maxwell making their way over to where he was seated. Riley took her seat across from Drake, a direct view behind him of the head table where Liam and Olivia would be sitting.

The staff began serving the dinner, everyone chatting amongst themselves while they ate. “Drake,” Maxwell spoke quietly leaning forward. “We should raid the wine cellar later,” he grinned mischievously.

Drake smirked shaking his head. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

“Come on, we did it last time there was a ball here,” he pouted his lip.

“Yeah, and Liv almost caught us. She would have blew a gasket.”

“Almost being the keyword,” he laughed.

As the two of them continued going back and forth, Riley happened to glance up to see Liam’s eyes locked on her from his table. She softly smiled before looking away grabbing her drink. Her eyes flickered back up a few moments later and he was still looking. She arched her brow at him as he flashed her a subtle smirk just before Olivia gathered his attention speaking to him. Throughout the rest of dinner their gazes kept meeting, this low-key tension building between them, each glance met burning more than the one before it.

“Little blossom,” Maxwell laughed, taking her wine glass as their plates were cleared from the table. “Your face is flushing. Slow down there.”

“I’m not drunk, Max,” she chuckled taking her glass back. It wasn’t the wine turning her cheeks red, it was the way a certain prince was looking at her.

After letting their food settle the guests began to mingle at the other tables, Liam making his rounds to try and speak to everyone. Riley still kept catching him looking at her with each person he spoke with, returning her own glances to him as well. She headed over to the bar and stood there as she sipped her refill of wine. Liam came striding confidently up next to her a short time later ordering a scotch.

“Lady Riley,” he softly spoke.

“Your highness,” she replied back as she kept her gaze on the other guests. The bartender stepped away for a moment after giving Liam his drink, leaving the two of them standing there alone, Liam’s back still towards the crowd as he leaned against the bar on his arms.

He shifted a little closer to her. “I can’t wait to put my hands on you later.” Riley slowly turned her head looking at him. “You know...when we have that dance you promised me,” he smirked. She turned back looking at the crowd smiling as she shook her head.

After leaving the bar Riley returned to her table and talked with Maxwell and Drake for a short time. “Finish that up,” Maxwell motioned to her drink. “The first dance is about to start. They’re doing the Cordonian Waltz.”

She tossed back the rest of her wine and set her glass on the table. “Ok.” She glanced over at Drake who was still sitting in his chair. “You’re not going to dance?”

Drake and Maxwell both shared a look as they laughed. “No. Remember, I don’t dance, Brooks,” he shook his head before sipping his whiskey.

She thought back on that night in New York when he wouldn’t dance at the club. “Oh, right,” she smirked as she stood from her chair and he gave her a small grin. She turned to Maxwell. “You realize you haven’t taught me the Cordonian Waltz yet, right?”

“Oh fudgesicle! Bertrand is going to kill me.” He sucked in a breath. “Ok...well it’s not too hard and you’re a fast learner. I’m sure we’ll be ok.”

“Lead the way,” she motioned with her hand.

They stepped out onto the dance floor, Maxwell’s one arm wrapping around her waist, her other hand held in his. He explained each step quickly and told her to just follow his lead as the music began to play. As Maxwell said, Riley was a quick learner and picked up the steps in no time. “Ok, just follow the same steps during the switch,” he gave her an encouraging nod.

Maxwell spun Riley out for the partner change and she found herself wrapped in Liam’s arms, looking up to see him smiling at her. “Hi,” she smiled in return.

“Hello, Riley,” he spoke as they glided across the dance floor. She glanced up at him through her lashes with that alluring glow in her eyes. “You know...you’ve been driving me crazy all night with the way you’ve been looking at me.”

“I believe it was you who started staring at me during dinner, your highness,” she arched her brow with a smirk.

He spun her and pulled her to him, her back flush to his chest as he dipped his mouth to her ear. “Well...you’ve captured my attention in this dress...and it’s giving me ideas,” he whispered before he spun her once more and she was facing him again.

She smiled up at him. “Is that so?” He nodded. “Care to share?”

“Maybe you can join me in my room later and I can show you,” he whispered through a smirk.

“I might need a little more convincing than that, Liam.”

Liam pressed his cheek to hers as they continued to dance, tilting his head down so his mouth was against her ear again. “Remember in New York when I asked if you wanted to fuck royalty?” He whispered and heard an audible gulp from her, taking that as her answer. “How about tonight I make you my Queen?” She felt his teeth briefly graze her earlobe sending a shiver down her spine. She looked back up at him, eyes completely lust blown and he smirked before twirling her out and she ended up back with Maxwell, but her eyes stayed locked on Liam.

Normally, Liam wasn’t one to be forward like he was being with her. But being that she had been with him before and had seen this side of him, he didn’t want to hide how much she was beguiling him that night or how badly he wanted her in that moment. He needed her to know.

Liam and Olivia stayed on the dance floor after the waltz was over, starting to dance to the next song, Liam watching Riley step off the floor with Maxwell and go to the bar. “You haven’t stopped looking at her since she came in,” Olivia quietly spoke.

He looked at Olivia. “I...what? I have too.”

“You like her, Liam,” she smirked.

“I do. I told you I enjoy her company.”

“I don’t think you’re being particularly honest with yourself, but that’s just me.” She casually shrugged her shoulders. “Do you know how she feels about you?”

Liam looked at her for a moment. No, he thought to himself. Yes, he knew she had felt some kind of connection according to what she told him the night of the masquerade, but she also said she felt something similar with Drake. So he truly didn’t know exactly how she felt about him. “No,” he answered. “I think...she may feel something...I’m just not entirely sure what.”

She glanced over Liam’s shoulder seeing Riley watching them from the bar. “We can find out,” she quirked her brow with that mischievous grin of hers. Liam gave her a confused look, not understanding, and before he saw it coming, Olivia leaned in and pressed her lips to his in a lingering kiss.

They parted a moment later and Liam stared at her in surprise. “Olivia, what was that?” His eyes were darting around the room. Penelope and Kiara stood off to the side staring at them with their mouths hanging open, Madeline behind them with her arms folded across her chest.

Olivia turned with Liam on the floor so he was now facing the bar. “Tell me what you see?”

Liam casually looked over Olivia’s shoulder to the bar at Riley who was arching her brow at him. She may be just a little jealous, he thought. Olivia was trying to see what her reaction would be to someone else kissing him, therefore possibly showing if she felt more than just a simple connection, and it looked as though she may. But she didn't look angry or upset, however. She looked as though Olivia had just issued a challenge and she was ready to come onto the dance floor and replace Olivia's taste on his lips with her own. He gave her an apologetic look and she smirked at him.

The rest of the evening Liam and Riley continued with their meeting of the eyes. The first of the guests began to head out and Liam decided to get some fresh air after saying goodnight to Kiara and Penelope. Liam exited the ballroom, walking out and standing off to the side near the concrete wall, the cold air instantly cooling him off. He heard the door open and turned his head back and peered around the corner of the wall to see Drake coming out, shutting the door behind him, the same fresh air idea on his mind as well.

“Hey,” Liam looked at him.

“Oh, hey, Li. I didn’t know you were out here.”

“I don’t mind the company,” Liam smiled. He looked at him for a moment. “Sorry I haven’t had much time since we’ve been here to really see you much. And about last night...” his expression fell, “the meteor shower-“

“I know,” Drake interrupted him waving his hand. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I feel like I do. We see it every year, Drake,” Liam gave him an apologetic look.

“We knew things were going to be different this year,” Drake looked down into his almost empty glass.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting the social season to get in the way and affect us so soon...”

“It’s fine, Li. And Liv was being the hostess last night. I get it.” He threw back the rest of his whiskey before setting his glass on the railing. “Speaking of...” he looked over at him quirking his brow with a smirk.

Liam knew what he was referring to. “The kiss,” he shook his head with a chuckle. “She was just...reminding everyone who’s turf they were on.” He couldn’t tell him that she was doing it to see how Riley felt about him.

Drake stared at him for a moment feeling that familiar pull towards him that he always did. At the same moment they both closed the distance between them, lips crashing together as Drake’s hand went to the back of his neck. He felt Liam’s tongue slide against his as they coiled together. The kiss stirred both of their emotions and nothing else mattered then but the two of them and that brief moment. When they parted they were both breathless, Liam resting his forehead against Drake’s for a moment before they slowly took a step back looking at one another. Liam wasn’t sure what to say in that moment. If Riley was coming to his room, and that was an if because he wasn’t certain, he needed to head up there and very soon, but he couldn’t tell Drake that and then just take off. He couldn’t tell Drake he invited her there.

“I should get going...I told Beaumont I’d raid Olivia’s wine cellar with him,” he smirked. “He’s waiting for me by the stairs.

Liam nodded. “Have a couple for me,” he smiled. Drake turned and walked to the door, giving Liam one last glance before walking inside. Liam followed behind him a couple moments later and slowly weaved his way through the guests that were still there. He caught Riley’s eye and subtlety motioned his head towards the door as he smiled before he left the ballroom.

After most of the guests had left, Riley walked out of the ballroom, stopping for a moment to slip off her heels and hooking them onto her fingers before heading up the stairs, keeping an eye out to see if anyone was watching. She walked down the halls turning a few corners and then came to the door. Riley quietly knocked, glancing down the hall both ways before Liam finally opened it, a wide smile on his face. “I take it no one saw you?”

“I was stealthier than a cat on the prowl,” she quietly laughed as she stepped inside and he shut the door behind him, his hand reaching down and clicking the lock just before she turned to face him.

His suit jacket was off, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows with the front unbuttoned almost halfway down, his muscular chest peeking out through the white fabric. “Thank you for coming up here.”

“Well...you were pretty persuasive...” she looked up at him as she tossed her heels onto the floor.

He offered her a seductive smile. “I just really wanted to spend some time with you, Riley.” His tone low as he stepped closer. “Alone time.” His hand reached up going to her cheek, his thumb brushing across her full lips and her heart started to race from the hunger filled gaze he was looking at her with. “I've shared you with Drake in New York. You've shared me with the suitors here. Isn’t it time we shared each other with no one else around?” She silently nodded, unable to tear her lust blown gaze away from his, her heart now pounding. “We had that time in the maze, but...” he trailed off as his eyes flitted from hers to her lips.

“But what?” She whispered.

“But I believe our time got cut short that night.” He leaned down capturing her lips in an impassioned kiss, something he had wanted to do all night. And while he shared a kiss out on the balcony with Drake, his hunger wasn’t calmed because his hunger that evening was for her. That spark hit him as it did each time his lips met hers before, their tongues tangling together. They parted a moment later and he looked down at her. “I don’t want it to get cut short tonight.” She stared at up at him and bit her lower lip. “I’ve had you once and I had to share you...” he leaned down brushing his lips across hers before kissing her again, tugging at her bottom lip as they parted. “Now I want to show what I can do to you when I have you all to myself,” his voice was a low smoky whisper. “When I have your complete,” he kissed her collar bone, “undivided,” his lips came up to the spot just below her ear before moving and pressing against it, “attention.” Riley’s heart was racing, the heat pooling inside her.

He locked eyes with her as his hand reached back unclasping the strap around her neck that was holding her gown in place. It pooled to her feet a moment later, his eyes roaming downward as his hands moved at the same time to her perky breasts, his thumbs brushing across her nipples and he felt her shudder under his touch, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked back into her eyes. He leaned down kissing her again as he walked her back into the wall. His hand slipped down between her thighs, knowing that she wanted him as much as her wanted her, able to feel how ready she was through the fabric of her lace thong as his fingers began moving in slow, tight circles and his lips moved to her neck, nipping and sucking her skin. God did he want to mark her, but he backed off making sure not to leave any for both of their sakes.

She gasped as he increased the pace and pressure of his fingers, a moan coming from her as she dropped her head back against the wall biting her lip, her eyes closing. He dipped his head down pulling her nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling and sucking. He moved down her stomach as he dropped down to his knees, moving down past the waistband of her thong and kissing her, his lips and tongue teasing her through the fabric. He trailed his fingertips in a feathery graze slowly up her legs leaving goosebumps in their wake until he reached her hips, slowly sliding her thong down and she stepped out of it. He could see her chest rising and falling in anticipation as she looked down at him and he lifted her leg over his shoulder.

He flashed a smirk before his lips wrapped around her clit and his tongue slid through her slippery folds, a moan instantly escaping her. He hummed in approval against her skin at her taste as he pulled her further into his mouth, devouring her. “Oh. My. God, Liam!” She ran her hand through the top of his hair gently tugging on it. Just as it did in New York, his tongue worked like magic against her. He delved two fingers inside and her body jerked at the welcoming intrusion, his tongue circling and rolling against her clit. He crooked his fingers pressing into that spot, feeling her legs start to quiver and her breath quickening, her hands going to his shoulders to steady herself. “That feels...sooooo good,” she gasped and then let out a low moan as she tipped over the edge, Liam groaned at her essence gushing into his mouth, pressing her hips back into the wall to keep her still, his tongue still working her through her release until he slowed his movements to a stop.

He stood a moment later with his lips slick with her juices, crashing them into hers allowing them both to taste herself on his tongue. His mind flashed to the night in New York, Riley’s taste on Drake’s lips as he kissed him after he devoured her, Liam deepening the kiss with her pushing the thought away. This was about her and him and he wasn’t having any other distractions, his sole concentration was going to be her. He wanted to memorize her and every spot on her body that made her writhe and moan in pleasure. Her hands were working the buttons of his shirt and he shrugged it off to the floor, her fingers running down his muscled chest. She trailed her lips across his skin as she moved her hands to his belt, his skin tingling where she touched him. Liam spun her walking her back to the bed and laid her down before stripping from the rest of his clothes, Riley staring up at his Greek god like form, a small whimper escaping her. He’s gorgeous. She needed him.

He came overtop of her capturing her lips again, kissing her slowly and passionately, something different about the way he was kissing her in that moment than he had before. It wasn’t just a wanting behind it, there was this...emotion. She slid her hands through the side of his hair to the back of his neck deepening the kiss, feeling the tip of his throbbing cock sliding through her slick lips and she rolled her hips against it. They parted a moment later both breathless, Liam’s lips brushing across hers. “What do you want, Riley?” He whispered against her lips.

“You. I want you, Liam,” she breathed before nipping his lower lip. He kissed her again as he drove himself in deep, her tight walls stretching around him as she took all of him, the kiss swallowing both of their moans as their tongues rolled against one another.

He set a pace and their lips parted, Liam pushing her legs back further allowing him to go deeper. “Fuck, I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he groaned as she rolled her hips matching his fluid rhythm. His thrusts went even deeper as he buried himself inside her, drawing out each moment unable to get enough of her and how she was making him feel. He pushed himself up on his arms so he could watch her, needing to see what he was doing to her. She arched her neck back as he picked up the pace, her eyes closing. “Look at me,” he commanded. “I want you looking at me when I make you scream my name.”

His words alone caused a jolt to run through her as she opened her eyes locking them on his. “Oh fuck, Liam...don't stop,” she moaned. She could feel it building, her entire body tingling as he set every nerve ending ablaze. She reached her arms down grabbing hold of his thighs as he drove himself in harder and faster. “Liam, right there! Keep going!” She yelled and a moment later she fell apart again as her back arched, the pleasure crashing over her like a wave.

“That’s right, Riley, cum for me,” he growled as he thrust into her, his name falling off her lips over and over again. He rose up on his knees grabbing her waist and lifting her hips from the bed pulling her to meet each drive until meeting his own shuddering release, feeling it run through his entire body as it tensed and he dropped his head back with a loud groan and one last hard pull, his fingers digging into her flesh. Shit! Yes! “Fuck!” He shouted as he dropped forward catching himself on his arms, his body still feeling the effects of what she did to him, never having felt anything like that before. He slowly lifted his head to meet her gaze, both their chests rising and falling as they tried catching their breath and he leaned down capturing her lips again, this burning fervor behind it. “Jesus, Riley...” his voice shook as they parted, his body still working on coming down.

“I could say the same,” she breathed.

He reluctantly moved off her a moment later coming to his side next to her as he propped himself up in his arm. He couldn’t stop staring at her. That connection he had felt suddenly grew, that spark he had felt exploding through him like he had never expected. He was becoming lost in the ocean of her blue eyes, not knowing, but at the same time knowing exactly what it was. He was fighting that fall. He leaned down capturing her lips in a slow passionate kiss as his hand brushed across her cheek.

And then there he was, Drake flashing behind his eyes. A flicker of guilt as a reminder that he was there too, that he held his heart.

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zmediaoutlet · 5 years

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side two, track two

this is a continuation of my previous fic ‘side two, track one’ -- the thought wasn’t entirely complete, it felt like, so here’s a little fic-coda

(read on AO3)

Somewhere on I-25 with the night curling up in misty frost against the windows, Sam falls asleep. Hardly anyone on the road, the occasional semi coming southbound to fill the Impala’s cabin with light. Anymore it’s hard for Dean to choose between trying to handle his crap alone and trying to distract himself, try to focus on anything else that isn’t the drumming thud of an archangel trying to break free of the barely adequate prison he’s making of himself. Feels most of the time like not splintering apart is about the best he can do. The road hums along below the tires and the engine’s rumbling up her usual steady growl, and he’s lost in thought when he realizes the tape ran out who knows how long ago, and he glances across the bench seat to find Sam tipped in, relaxed. He’s slumped down, his arms crossed over his belly, his knees bent toward Dean. His face is slack, soft.

Dean chews his lip, looks a minute longer. Absolutely no one on the road, can’t hurt anything. Sometimes when Sam’s sleeping he looks about ten years old—and what does that say, that it’s the first thing Dean thinks of?

His head hurts. He shifts, on the seat, drives. They said they were going to find a motel, and Dean’s going to, but as long as Sammy’s sleeping he’s got time to think, in the quiet. The almost-quiet. His passenger doesn’t stop rattling inside him, but he’s almost, sort of starting to get a handle on that. Feels—stronger, after today, after yesterday. Turns out there’s something he wants that’s greater than being free of a pissant, whiny archangel, and that all by itself is something that feels a little too big to get his arms around, without some quality road time.

Road rolls under the car, the world all black outside the halo of the headlights. Black fields, black hills. Dead grass barely lit to pale lifeless gold before it rolls out into nothing, until there’s white sparking back and there’s snow on the ground, and he finally gives in to the way his eyes are burning and pulls off for Casper and a motel he remembers that’s decent, or close enough for their purposes.

Freezing, here. North maybe wasn’t the right direction to pick, but he’d felt like a spinning compass, unmoored from any kind of magnet that wasn’t right there in the passenger seat. Here they are, anyway, and he rolls through the crunching snow into a black-ice parking lot, bright neon cutting blue and sharp over everything that reflects, nothing warm left. Alien planet.

He parks right in front of the lobby door and Sam finally wakes up when the engine cuts, starting bolt upright with a shocked breath through his teeth. “What,” he says, and Dean says, “Morning, princess,” and his voice is all road-gravel, unused. “Getting a room.”

Sam shakes his head, touches Dean’s jacket-sleeve, and Dean stops with his hand on the door handle, teeth sunk into the inside of his lip. “Jeez, it’s like—midnight?” Sam drags a hand down his face, eyebrows all a knot like he’s doing math problems. “Wyoming?”

“The Friendly Ghost,” Dean confirms, and Sam snorts, licks his lips, looks at him. “You want to get the room, or should I?”

“You,” Sam says, and sits back into his corner of the seat. The neon light slips over his hair, his skin, turns him blue-silver. His eyes, impossible to see. He bites his bottom lip, blue teeth, and the breath he takes puts an unavoidable beat before the smile he tries to put into his voice. “You can handle it, right?”

He rolls his eyes, even if Sam can’t see it, and makes sure to leave the door open enough for the zero-degree air to get all over all that blue skin before he slams it shut again. Like he doesn’t know it’s a test. They’ve been together long enough, he knows when Sam’s joshing him for real and when he’s covering for something. Even if sometimes he doesn’t know what he’s covering for. Even if, sometimes, there’s something real and blinding that’s right in front of both of them, and they just don’t see it. Well, fair enough, Dean thinks, stamping snow off his boots in the entryway. It was blinding. What did they expect.

When he comes out he’s got a butter mint tucked in his cheek and Sam’s pulling his coat on, standing shivering by the car flank. “Is frostbite one of your kinks?” Dean says, and Sam shakes his head, wrapping the coat around his skinny too-long torso, says, “What room?”

107, hardly far enough away to justify moving the car, but Dean does. Sam walks, for some reason, and so Dean’s alone again in the silent cabin, and he rolls the big black bulk of her over to sit in front of their room, and watches in the rearview as Sam’s narrow black shadow crosses the blue-white landscape. That neon sign is ridiculous, see-it-from-space big. Under the wash of it, there’s enough light for Sam to catch the room key when Dean tosses it to him, and Dean grabs their bags and lets Sam open up the door, and turn on the lamps, and in the bright gold triangle that spills out over the sidewalk Dean sees the second Sam clocks the king bed, and the sees too the look Sam sends back over his shoulder.

Bags on the table, and Dean rolls his shoulders. Fuck, he’s tired and wired at the same time. Nearly one in the morning and sleep wasn’t great the night before. Not that it ever is. Now, of course, there’s this.

“Yeah?” Sam says, closing the door behind them both. Dean blows out a long, chest-deflating breath, and when he turns Sam’s looking at him, shoulder against the door. He flicks the deadbolt closed, tosses the key onto the table past Dean’s hip. Doesn’t come closer. That cut’s still obvious, right across the bridge of his nose, the skin around his eye still purple-red. Doesn't look ten anymore, that's for sure. He's this—man. Familiar, except how he's not. Dean can still feel his hands, and if it was hard to think through in the huge empty night of driving, it's no easier with a closed door between them and anyone who could see, a big waiting mattress behind Dean's back. Sam frowns, lifts his chin. "Okay?"

Dean drops his head. "You keep asking that, like there's a good answer," he says, and he doesn't want to be looking at Sam's face when he says it. Still. Dean's the one who chose the damn room, chose the damn bed. Looked the clerk in the eye when he asked for it and saw how the guy didn't blink. Dean peels his jacket off, dumps it onto the pile of bags on the table, and it's just warm enough in here. Enough to block out the ice planet Hoth on the other side of the window. Not warm enough to prickle sweat in his hairline, on his back—Sam takes care of that, when he sways forward. Dean stays put, keeps his eyes open. He's making a choice. He made one. For Sammy, he's not going to go back on his word.

Sam puts his thumb on the scabbed-over cut on Dean's lip, tracks real careful down over the tender skin below it. His reflex is to cringe away, and for a split second he does, and then he stands still and lets Sam touch him. His body doesn't know what to do with this. Brain caught between yes and can't, and all his muscles and nerves trapped and tense. Sam's eyes jump from his mouth when he feels the flinch, but he doesn't pull back, either. A beat and there's a determined flex to his jaw, his fingers dragging along Dean's midnight o'clock shadow, pausing at the hinge there just below his ear before he steps forward, and Dean has to tip his head back to keep meeting his eyes. "I'm going to kiss you," Sam says, like it's just—information. There's a ghost in Biloxi, there's road work on I-10. Just so you know.

"It's not any less weird if you telegraph it, dude," Dean says, but he stays right where he is with his pulse hammering in what feels like the base of his gut. Sam shrugs, and tips down the three—four—however many inches, and it's the same utterly insane shocky burst of sensation it was that afternoon. Sam's familiar smell—hot breath—lips, and lips aren't all that different from person to person, Dean's kissed he doesn't even know how many people over his tangled up mess of a lifetime, and it shouldn't be anything new except for how it, fuck, is. Sam's fingers are long and hot and tip his jaw up, because for once in his life he has to tilt up to kiss, and he drags in a breath and puts a hand on Sam's waist, a little ballast against how the whole universe seems to have spun off into a Dorothy-style tornado. They sure as shit aren't in Kansas anymore.

When Sam pulls back, he doesn't do it all at once. More information Dean probably didn't need, even if it's turning his bones to melting heavy gold to know it. Sam nibbles at Dean's lower lip, and it hurts but Dean only shivers for it, and his nose brushes Dean's, and he hangs there breathing in Dean's air, and when Dean opens his eyes Sam's right there, still close and still tipping everything ass-over-teakettle. "Hm," Sam says, skating his fingers along Dean's hairline. "Still weird?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean says, in his absolute best you dork tone, and his best is real good. Doesn't matter; Sam's mouth hitches up, dimples peeking, and Dean swallows because it's been—a long time. A long, long time, since they were pointed his way, and Sam seemed… happy. He licks his lips, tastes Sam. Shrugs, and squeezes Sam's waist where he hasn't been able to make himself let go. "Guess weird's okay with me."

"That's because you're a freak," Sam says, soft like it's a secret, and he actually grins for real when Dean shoves him, and—yeah. It's ridiculous, crazy, maybe the stupidest thing they ever did. Stupidest ain't the same as worst, though, and it turns out, somehow, it's not in Dean to regret it.

He takes a shower. "You're not invited," he says, just in case he needs to make it clear, and Sam raises his eyebrows but—there's a line, even in this. Too much, too soon. His head throbbing, fists pounding inside his skull. The shower's quick, anyway, and Dean's not up for the vagaries of wet neck-breaking sex with this little sleep under his belt. Motel bathtubs and easily detachable curtains and two big guys—no. Maybe, though. Back home. The shower room's big, and they've showered together there once or twice before, when both of them needed to get the monster-grime off right away. Not looking at each other, even in all that light, although—Dean wasn't looking, except how sometimes, sure, he'd catch a glimpse, and things got filed away in the back of his head. He never caught Sam doing the same, but it doesn't mean Sam wasn't doing it.

He comes out in his boxer-briefs still rubbing his hair dry, to find just one of the bedside lamps on and Sam sitting in a thin undershirt, pajama pants, braced on the side of the mattress. Waiting. Ain't that a kick in the teeth. "Answer a question for me," Dean says.

Sam frowns at him, even if his eyes sweep quick from top to bottom. "What?"

That look. Dean bites the inside of his cheek, tosses his towel over his shoulder to land—wherever. Sam huffs, and it's so their-whole-lives Sammy that something clicks, settles. "Relax," Dean says, even though he knows that winds Sam up, and sure enough Sam's frown swoops lower and Dean rolls his eyes, even if he's biting back a smile. Can't let Sam know how endearing his pissy-face is. Wouldn't be nearly as satisfying to drag out, otherwise. Dean touches his shoulder, though, and the look fractures and dissolves, Sam looking up at him and the new thing between them hovers practically solid in the air.

Dean's too tired, though, and one revelation a day is maybe enough. Sam's fingers wrap around his wrist. "So," Dean says. "Sharing?"

Sam lifts a shoulder. "You're the one who got the king," he says, but he knows what Dean's asking. His mouth tilts, acknowledgment. The strangeness doesn't stop, even if they're looking at it head-on.

They climb into bed, and it's a big bed but they're big guys, and there's not as much space between them as Dean would've thought when he turns onto his side, curls his arm under his head. Sam mirrors him, and his knee bumps just under Dean's in the warm soft cave they're making, the snow heavy outside. Years, since they've shared a bed. More than a decade. "You remember—" Dean starts, and Sam grins before he can even finish it.

"That ghoul job in Kennewick," Sam says. "Man, that sucked."

It did, and hard. A spare room in a creepy house, and neither of them would take the floor because rats there were the least of the nasty crap that might've crawled out. Salt around the bed and they climbed in and fought for space, but it was warm, and they managed a few hours, kneeing each other and fighting for the blanket. Nothing fraught, like there is now, and even so they woke up pressed together, back to back. "Wasn't that bad," Dean says, now, and Sam's grin is softer, and his hand slips across the little space between them and touches Dean's arm.

"You kick, though," Sam says.

"You kick," Dean says. "And you're a blanket hog."

"Says the human burrito." Sam shakes his head, but his hand circles around Dean's arm. "Yeah, no answer to that one."

"Not dignifying it with a response," Dean says, but he's—distracted.

Clamor, inside his head, and it must be visible somehow on his face because Sam's expression changes. God, Dean wishes he could be done with this. Then again—he tried wishing for that, and look where it got him. Sam's looking at him, right up close, and the soft jokey smiling's all gone now, a frown in its place. Dean sighs, pauses a moment. Envisions himself full up to the brim with cold iron, sigils carved in and burning like with holy fire. A solid, impenetrable thing, a prison of him. It works. The throbbing stops, and it's quiet, and he doesn't really realize he's closed his eyes until Sam's pulling at him, bringing him closer. Dean scoots in, and even through the pajamas Sam's body is a warm shock. He takes a deep breath, slow. Lets it out slower. Says, "I'm tired of this," and he didn't really mean to be honest, but if now's not the time—and Sam doesn't say anything, but he slides his arm around Dean's waist, and it's weird. It's so, so goddamn weird. No reason for it to feel as good as it does.

Heart's desire. That's what the pearl was supposed to do. Dean made a wish, in words, and it wasn't granted. He got something else—something crazy, mind-bending. He got the opportunity to make a choice and, more than that, to watch Sam make one. Thing is: Dean's answer was only ever going to be the one he gave. What a life they've had, that when Sam said the same, it didn't feel like a surprise as much as… yes. Of course. That old promise, offered and accepted, all over again.

"What was the question?" Sam says. Dean starts. He's drifting off, even with the lamp still on. Sam's warm all over his front, the weight of his arm heavy on Dean's side. "Dean? You were going to ask me a question."

"Yeah," Dean says, muzzy. He pushes in closer, tips his weight in. A hand on Sam's hip. Little anchors. The question already got an answer. At least, the answer that mattered. He shakes his head against the pillow, golden-dark seeping through his closed eyelids. "In the morning, Sammy."

A huff. "Sure," Dean hears, and then there's press of lips against his forehead. Barely there, brief and light as air, but it sinks down, anyway, right down into the too-full chamber of his chest. Could've been too much, but it turns out that for Sam there's always another inch.

#spn fic #wincest #14.13 lebanon #my writing #how many more lebanon fics can i write?#at least one more miss swann

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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Christmas Fan fiction Advent Calendar 2017 - Day 16 - Joker x Reader - Christmas Hatred Part 2

Ok, this ones a bit crap. I only meant this series to be 2 parts, but I didn’t have much time to write this one today so it’s short, not great quality writing, and had only a very quick read through as an edit, and is not finished, so I will do a part 3 eventually!

Hope you Enjoy despite the poor skills!

MASTERLIST

The Joker caught up with her easily, not that she cared. She ignored him a bit longer until he suddenly linked arms with her.

“Come on then, doll. Let’s do this.” He grinned devilishly, showing no remorse for his earlier actions and she could still feel his lips on hers. She scowled inwardly at his enthusiasm, but she wasn’t about to let him get the better of her.

“Yes lets.” She said determinedly, tightening her grip around the arm he had linked through hers, and marching on - dragging him along a few steps before he kept pace with her again.

They strode through the rest of the market - neither of them paying that much attention to the stalls - and ended up in the main square where a huge ice skating rink had been set up and couples and families spun chaotically around the sides.

“Whatta ya think, doll?” Asked the Joker with a raised eyebrow and an evil glint in his eye, knowing the answer she wanted to give.

[Y/N] eyed it warily, knowing the amount of holiday cheer around these places and the death traps that ice rinks were. You were supposed to avoid ice – not purposely slip and fall on it for fun.

“Let’s do it!” she said with a steely look at him. He didn’t look at all phased, calling her bluff.

And so, the next thing she knew [Y/N] was gripping the side of the ice rink, her legs locked as she dragged herself along, desperately trying to not move any muscle but her arms in case she overbalanced - the painfully cheerful and cliché Christmas music blaring out from the speakers around. The Joker, however, somehow seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and [Y/N] had to wonder if he’d set her up as he kept skating past her in his large overcoat and hat without a care in the world.

When she finally fell on her butt, the Joker skidded to a stop nearby. He offered her a hand, and she almost had the urge to reach for it, until she saw the large grin plastered on his face behind the upturned collar of his coat. Instead she ignored the gesture, not giving him the satisfaction of having to help her.

[Y/N] tried to scramble to her feet, but her knees kept giving way and she fell heavily numerous times on her butt. Feeling very bruised, cold – thanks to inadequate clothing – and out of breath from the effort, she eventually gave up, huffing in defeat as the cold bit at her exposed skin and her trousers became damp from the ice underneath her.

The Joker had been watching her attempts to stand with amusement. “Look, doll, I know your trying to be stoic and all…” The Joker drawled, then offered his hand again. [Y/N] glared at it, but eventually had to conceded when she saw no other option.

The Joker pulled [Y/N] to her feet, but the skates slipped out from under her and she fell once again, the Joker snatching at her waist and only just catching her, causing [Y/N] to land heavily against him. She didn’t know how he stayed upright.

“Well this is nice, doll…” Purred the Joker next to her, and [Y/N] could feel the vibrations from his chest in her own. When she realised her position, [Y/N] instinctively wrenched herself backwards from the sudden physical – and quite intimate – contact. But any attempts to shove herself back upright only led to her skates kicking uselessly beneath her body, and [Y/N] was instead forced to lean on the Joker even more.

Eventually she stopped struggling - out of breath and her legs aching. She could feel the gentle shaking of the Joker’s chest under her own as he silently laughed at her attempts to distance herself.

He shifted his grip on her, wrapping his arms firmly around [Y/N]’s waist and pulling her more upright so she no longer leaned as heavily on him - though her legs wobbled beneath her and [Y/N] had to reluctantly keep a tight grip on the Joker’s arm to maintain her balance.

“You alright, Princess?” The Joker teased with a cheesy grin, gripping her arms in turn to keep her up. [Y/N] scowled at him and he laughed - though keeping it quiet so the people around them couldn’t hear the distinctive sound. “How about I give you a hand?” He purred with a glint in his eye.

“No thanks.” [Y/N] snarled, forgetting herself and who she was talking to.

But her snappiness didn’t seem to irk him, instead he smiled lazily “Fine.” He shrugged, then released her arm, skating a few steps backwards, and leaving [Y/N] stood on her own without any support. She stayed upright, but she was stuck. if she tried to move now she would end up on her arse again and stuck there.

“Ok. Fine. Help me.” [Y/N] muttered reluctantly, unable to meet his eyes, embarrassed by how useless she was and knowing he would probably make the most of her weakness.

“Hm, doll?” He said, cupping a hand to his ear.

“Please…” She growled, holding a hand out.

He let out a short laugh and then skated the short distance towards her, ignoring her hand and grabbed her waist instead, pulling her towards his body. [Y/N] automatically tried to pull away, but slipped and he gripped her tighter, keeping her upright, but his hand on her waist made her tense.

“What are you doing?!” She demanded.

“You want my help, doll…” He said with a raised eyebrow, “Then we do it my way.” He grinned sinfully. [Y/N] rolled her eyes, but he took that as a ‘fine’ and spun her around so suddenly that she flung her arms out wide, ready to catch herself when she fell, but the Joker caught her easily, hands easily finding her waist again, but now she was facing away from him, her back against his chest. “Ready, doll?” He purred in her ear, but didn’t wait for [Y/N]’s response, already pushing off, and pushing her along in front of him. He shifted his hands when she wobbled a bit at first, one remaining on her waist, the other shifting to her left arm, holding her almost like a waltz, though she was facing the wrong way.

“What are you doing?” [Y/N] demanded, confused.

“Stopping you from falling, doll.” He growled in her ear, continuing to skate them both forward. The Joker pushed her around the rink a few times, eventually instructing her to try to move her feet and loosen up a bit. He wasn’t the most patient instructor – especially when she wasn’t that trusting of him or his advice – but the minute she did begin to wobble, or her feet slipped out from underneath her, he kept her up, somehow keeping himself up at the same time. [Y/N] was pressed so tightly against his body for fear or falling that she could feel every time his muscles tense when she slipped and - though she was embarrassed by the closeness for a while – she eventually got used to it and relaxed, forgetting who she was with and what he did.

The time passed quite quickly once [Y/N] had gained a small bit of confidence in what she was doing, and it wasn’t long before the session was over and they had to make their way over to the exit – The Joker still holding her waist.

When they finally exited the rink, [Y/N] was out of breath, her legs killed, and she was visibly shivering. She noticed the Joker watching her closely, and she wrapped her arms around herself against the cold and self-consciously looked in the opposite direction - pretending to survey the Christmas scene around them.

“Ok,” [Y/N] finally said, trying to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them. “I think it’s my turn to choose the next line of torture.”

“Looks like you already have, doll.” He said, nodding at her and she frowned back in confusion. “You look like you’re freezing to death.” He explained.

“Does that mean you have to, as well?” [Y/N] teased, nodding to his coat. “That was one of our conditions I believe.” She added.

“Ah, doll, I would…” He grinned, “but then you’d probably spend a night in the GCPD for being found to be consorting with a criminal… - and it’d ruin our big date.”

{Y/N] raised an eyebrow at him and seem to consider this problem. “Well if you don’t have to suffer, I don’t think I should either.” She said with a triumphant smirk, intrigued to see if he would agree to this.

“You’re right, doll.” He said, going along with it – much to [Y/N]’s surprise. “Let’s solve that problem...”

He led the way back to the market where it had now become so dark that the street lamps overhead were the main light source on the displays still out. The Joker scanned the line of stalls as they pushed through the still quite crowded street. Eventually he pulled her to a stop by a stall selling winter garments. [Y/N] wasn’t sure what she expected – probably for him to hold the salesman up with the gun she knew was still in his pocket, and rob the place or something – but instead he pulled out a wad of cash from one of the many inner pockets of his coat, and bought her a fur lined coat, with a matching set of a scarf, hat and gloves. He seemed to be oddly quite knowledgeable about fashion despite the face he was an insane criminal.

[Y/N] thanked him over and over again as they wandered back down the street, but eventually The Joker growled at her to shut, and so she did, but he still seemed more down now – maintaining his frown.

“You know - if you hate this so much - we can just stop this now.” [Y/N] pointed out to him, assuming his mood was because of his hatred for the festivities around him.

“Nice try, doll.” He growled.

“What’s wrong then?”

“I wish I hadn’t bought you those things.”

[Y/N] was slightly taken aback by this – after all it wasn’t like she had forced him to buy them, he’s just done it. “You didn’t have to buy them for me!” She explained quickly “– I would if I had my purse on me – but I didn’t have time to grab it earlier before you dragged me out of my flat!” She defended, “I can pay you back if you want!” She continued to babble, flustered and embarrassed that he was so annoyed about having to buy her something.

“Doll.” The Joker growled, holding up a hand to shut her up. [Y/N] closed her mouth immediately. “I don’t care about the money.” He told her firmly and she frowned, confused what the problem was then.

Suddenly a smirk crossed the Joker’s face. “I wish I hadn’t bought those things, doll,” He said, stopping in the middle of the street and turning towards her. “because now your hidden away from me…” He drawled, reaching out a hand and tugging lightly at the scarf wrapped snuggly around her neck. “Under layers…” he drawled, his eyes on the small amount of her throat he had exposed. “And, I’m not gonna lie doll… I like looking at my kitten.”

“First of all, I’m not your kitten.” [Y/N] said firmly, and his eyes flickered to hers now. “I don’t like being objectified – plus I barely know you, and you’re a criminal.” She listed off, mainly talking to herself. “Secondly, I’m not taking these layers off,” she said, gesturing to her outfit, “just because you happen to like the look of me, because – for the first time in about 2 hours,” she guessed, “I can finally sort of feel my fingers.”

The Joker burst out laughing at this, his grin back, and eventually [Y/N] couldn’t help it either and began to laugh with him, not caring who was looking at them as they stood in the middle of the wintery street.

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