That Fateful Evening: Grell Sutcliff x FEM! Reader

Mr. Black's Ball

Grell continued to drag you along through the large ballroom. It was filled with nobles who were either being unfaithful to their spouses or were getting drunk from the amount of wine they were chugging down. Not that you minded. Sure, it didn't come from a place of understanding and joy that they were being unfaithful or ruining their liver, but a place of ignorance. Some might say you got used to it in your many years. 

Your favorite reaper leaned in and whispered in your ear, gesturing with her eyes that she was referring to the host of the ball, "He looks like a true nutwick. I mean, who wears baby blue when it's paired with moss green?" It was true. Mr. Black was wandering around through the ball, discussing several of his successful businesses while dressed like a poorly decorated living space. 

You softly chuckled and led her across the room, wanting to avoid suspicion. After all, it would be suspiciously suspicious if a pair was staring at the host, who also just so happened to be the primary suspect in a major kidnapping case of eighteen children.

"So," Grell continued, linking her arm with yours as if you were a couple. "What's the plan? You honestly can't expect me to not be my glamorous self!" 

"If being your glamorous self is going to help the case in any capacity, then please do whatever you please-" 

And at those words, Grell's emerald eyes lit up with stars, and she dragged you to the dance-floor, where countless couples danced the night away. Laughter and cheer enveloped the air, making a small smile line your lips. 

Or maybe it was because you were with your favorite reaper.

She gently set her gloved hand on your waist and guided you as the next song began to begin. This made heat rise to your face, but your expression remained stoic with a small hint of amusement. 

You had to admit Grell looked good in her attire. The outfit she wore was suited for nobles, along with your own. You two truly looked like a pair with the matching color themes, as well. Your red, black, and gold dress that went down to the floor mixed with Grell's dark red tailcoat screamed that you both were a pair to not be messed with.

She, who noticed your silence as you both continued to dance the night away, smirked. Her emerald eyes scanned your form, and even if she was in her human disguise, you knew exactly what she was thinking. Her grip around your waist tightened as she leaned in, connecting your gaze to hers. It wasn't to the point where your lips were connected, but it was enough for your heart to pound against your rib-cage like a drum.

"You know," she said, twirling you around. "You look stunning this evening, m'lady." 

You softly chuckled and gave her a small smile, "That's a succubus' job, is it not?" 

"I suppose so," she replied, her smirk turning into a smile of adoration. You weren't aware of it, but over the course of however long you spent as investigative partners, she had grown fond of you. How your laugh was rare yet beautiful. How you were a caring leader. How dedicated you were to your craft. She loved it all, and she could feel herself falling for the gorgeous woman dancing with her.

Neither of you said anything more as time slipped through your fingers, as well as any thoughts of why you were at the ball in the first place. A weight was lifted off your shoulders, or at least, that's what you felt like. There was something about Grell that drew you into her emerald eyes. Her quirks and confidence was something you admired. 

After what felt like a few seconds, when in reality was a few minutes, a cold hand gripped your shoulder. You were released from Grell's arms and were immediately put into the one and only Mr. Black's arms. He smelled of fish and cigars, and his stringy and greasy brown hair brushed against your cheek. He was lanky and pale, which in itself isn't a bad thing, it just stood out as odd. Perhaps he didn't indulge in large meals often, or had a godly metabolism. 

"Hello, doll-face," he greeted rather creepily, but you remained a straight face for the sake of the kids that were most likely hidden somewhere in his manor. "I must say, you look rather exquisite this evening. May I have the honor of having your final dance of the evening?" 

You gulped and your eyes instinctively wandered to Grell, who was glaring daggers at Mr. Black, who was now putting his hand on the lower half of your back.

"A little late for that, isn't it, Mr. Black?" You asked, your tone full of fake amusement. 

His obnoxious laughter boomed through the room, resulting in a few concerned stares of be sent your way.

"Do call me Jackson, Miss L/n. However, I do wonder why your last name changed, especially since Madam Red's death. How gruesome the scene was." He explained while you silently begged for the song to be over. "You know," he continued, looking you up and down hellishly slow. "I heard she was murdered by her dear butler, who was unfortunately never located. Who knows what happened to the fool."

You grimaced, but your curiosity piqued, "Who was this said butler? I don't believe I've ever met them." 

He pulled out another cigar and lit it, not bothering to stop dancing with you. The smell of smoke didn't help the pit in your stomach. 

"I believe it was a fellow that went by the name Grell Sutcliff; that's what the Queen's Guard Dog told me. How pathetic." 

Your eyes widened as the floor seemed to sway under your feet. 

Could she have done such a thing..?

She would never, right?

Your eyes latched onto your dear nephew, who was dancing with his fiancée, Lady Elizabeth Midford, beside you, listening to the conversation and continuously glaring at the suspect. Your questioning eyes made him gulp, and you could tell he was hesitant on telling you something. 

But, when the tediously long song ended, and you were separated from the primary suspect, Ciel nodded in confirmation regarding to what Mr. Black had stated previously.