#Beans you've only gone and done it

[nessietessimal]

100% inspired by @badolmen's little comic the other day, and 'cus I love their funky lil' gnome a... Reasonable amount 😤💕

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 20, Uninhibited - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, drug use, dirty dancing, questionable choices.

Word Count: 3.1k

Previously On...: You're still throwing up :(

A/N: BRING ON THE BAD DECISIONS!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

"How do I look?" you asked Wanda and Nat as you came out of your bathroom in your outfit for the party. When Tony had told you your party was going to be 90s themed, you'd been over the moon, since the last time you had a birthday party was probably actually in the 90s. Yes, you'd all gone out for drinks and dancing when you turned 21, and then for a fancy dinner when you turned 30, but it was the first time you'd actually given in to Tony's pleading to let him throw you an actual party, and he was pulling out all the stops, so you wanted to make sure you looked your best. And if looking your best happened to stick it to a certain super soldier, well, that was just a bonus.

"Oh my God," said Nat at the same time Wanda whispered "Holy shit." You were wearing a black leather mini skirt with thigh-high boots and a navy and silver handkerchief top that barely covered your tits. You'd curled your long hair into loose, beachy waves and Nat had done your makeup.

"You look like a fucking seductress," Nat nodded in appreciation.

"Barnes is not going to know what hit him," Wanda concurred.

"If Barnes knows what's good for him," you replied, putting in a pair of large silver hoop earrings and checking out how they looked in the mirror, "he won't even show up tonight. Besides, I only have two goals for the evening: Celebrating my birthday with my best friends and; Getting over one man by getting under another one."

"Amen to that!" Nat cheered, raising a glass of pre-game champagne Tony had delivered to your suite. "Tonight, you flirt with anything that has a penis." Catching Wanda's pointed expression, she added "Anything that has a penis that is not already committed to another vagina." Wanda smiled appreciatively.

"Please, Natty" you said, grabbing your own glass of champagne and toasting with her, "tonight, I'm flirting with anything that has a pulse."

"That's my girl!" Nat wrapped an arm around you and squeezed. You would have fun tonight, Bucky Barnes be damned.

You could hear the thumping of the bass long before you reached the doors of the banquet hall. The party was already in full swing. Before you entered, though, Nat grabbed onto your elbow and palmed something into your hand.

"Happy Birthday, Pocket," she said with a wink, before letting you go and allowing you to open your palm. Nestled inside was a small, white pill.

"Nat!" hissed Wanda as loudly as she could to be heard over the bass, "did you just hand Pocket drugs?!"

"Relax, Wanda," Nat said, rubbing the other girl's arm. Turning to you, she added "It's just some molly. Take it if Barnes shows up and you need to manufacture yourself a bit more fun, that's all." And she threw you a wink. "Just don't tell Mom and Dad."

"Thanks, Natty, but, if anything," you said with a smile, putting the little pill in your pocket in case you needed it later, "Tony'll be pissed you didn't bring enough for the whole class." You hoped you weren't going to need it, but it was rather comforting having it on hand. You hadn't done MDMA in years, and the idea of taking it again was thrilling.

"Fine," said Wanda, and you could both tell she wasn't thrilled with your actions. "Let's just go inside and have a good time, okay?" The three of you linked arms and made your way through the doors to the banquet hall.

It had been positively transformed. Usually, it was the place where Tony held his fancy dinners for visiting heads of state who wanted a look at what the Avengers did all day, tonight it had become a rave out of a fairy tale. There were bubble machines sending cascades of multi-colored bubbles through the air, everyone dancing with glow-sticks, and a DJ booth hung suspended from the ceiling. Tony had brought in what you suspected were real trees and had decked them out with twinkling fairy lights; there was even a fountain in the middle of the dance floor. It was something straight out of your dreams.

The room was crawling with hundreds of people. Most of them you vaguely recognized as people who worked in various positions in the Tower, some old colleagues from Stark Industries, and friends from outside of work, but scattered throughout were the members of your family. You spotted Clint and Laura dancing together in a corner of the dance floor while Nirvana's About a Girl blared, Sam flirting with three different women at the same time, and Thor over by the bar with Steve, a bottle of Asgardian liquor being passed around between them. Maria Hill was sitting in a lounge chair talking with Helen Cho and Vision. You were pleased to see neither Bucky nor Jade in your initial sweep of the room. With any luck, they wouldn’t have the balls to show their faces.

"This is incredible," you murmured, though you were sure neither of your friends heard you over the roar of the music. No one had noticed you'd arrived just yet, so you took the moment of anonymity to just soak it all in. Tony and Pepper had done all of this for you. You couldn't think about it for too long, or you would start to cry right there. They weren't connected to you by blood, but they loved you better than your real family ever had, and you were struck with an overwhelming surge of gratitude and appreciation for them both.

"Oh no!" Nat shouted over to Wanda. "She's getting misty-eyed! We need to get her a drink, STAT!"

You laughed as your two best friends dragged you to the bar. As you entered the throng, people began converging on you, wishing you a Happy Birthday and giving you more hugs than you'd probably ever received in your entire life. It was impossible to not feel the absolute love that came from everyone around you. You nearly toppled over when Wanda pointed out the giant table of presents that sat, waiting for you, in the far corner of the room. Never in your entire life had you felt so appreciated, and coming on the heels of how Bucky had discarded you, you felt your heart soar with love for all of these amazing people.

At the bar, you caught the attention of Thor and Steve, the latter doing a double take at the sight of you. Thor immediately enveloped you in a bear hug, his massive arms dwarfing your body as he picked you up.

"Happy Birthday, my Lady Pocket," he bellowed, planting a loud, sloppy kiss on your cheek. "I would offer you some of my Asgardian mead in celebration, but I fear it would be far too potent for your tiny human body to handle. I would not want to be responsible for your death on this day we celebrate your life."

"Thanks, Thor," you said as he finally put you back down, "I'm fine with good old Earth alcohol tonight."

The bartender handed you a frozen drink without your asking. "It's tonight's signature cocktail," he responded to your confused expression. "The Plum Pocket." Your face soured. The Plum Pocket was a drink you'd invented for Bucky months and months ago. Half of a plum because he loved the taste of them so much, strawberries, (because you loved them), raspberry liquor, lemon syrup, vodka, and a bit of sugar blended with ice into an almost smoothie-like consistency, with some lemon zest for garnish. How would Tony even know about them?

No, you were not going to think about Bucky Barnes tonight. You were going to enjoy your drink, dance, and get your flirt on. In that order. There was no room on tonight's agenda for wallowing in self pity over someone who didn't give a shit about you enough to keep his dick in his pants.

You took a sip. It was damned delicious.

"Hey," a soft voice spoke to you over your shoulder. You turned and looked up into Steve's face. His eyes were slightly glassy.

"Enjoying that Asgardian mead, Cap?" you asked with a teasing grin.

He smiled, a flush creeping up his cheeks at being called out. "Happy Birthday, Pocket. I um... I wanted to tell you, you look really pretty tonight."

The compliment took you aback. You didn't think Steve had ever complimented you on your looks before. He must be far more drunk than you first thought. "Thanks, Steve," you responded with a smile. "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

Before you could say anything else to him, there was a drop in the music, and a spotlight lit up Tony Stark in the DJ booth, dressed in his full Iron Man glory.

"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, and the handful of people who accidentally wandered in from the fury convention," Tony began, his amplified voice carrying over the crowd, "welcome to the party of the century! I want to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate someone very special to me, to all of us. She's like the kid sister I never wanted, in that now that I've got her, I couldn't get rid of her even if I tried." The crowd laughed and you hid your face in your hands. "Fortunately, I like having her around too much. She's got a brilliant mind, she's funny as hell, and she's the beating heart of this team. Without her, the Avengers would just be a group of coworkers, and not a family. And let's be honest, she's one of the few people who's willing to tolerate me on a daily basis." Somehow, his eyes were able to find yours in the crowd and he gave you a classic Tony wink; you blew him a kiss back. "So, everyone, please raise a glass to (Y/N) (Y/L/N), or as we like to call her, our own little Pocket! Pocket, Happy Birthday, kiddo! We love you! So, everyone, grab a drink, don't hold back on the dance floor, because, let's face it, I spent a fortune on hiring the best DJ in New York City, and let's make some bad decisions! Except for you, Parker. Jesus is watching." 

Through the crowd you could just make out Peter's soft voice saying "Aw, come on Mr. Stark," and you broke into laughter. God, you loved these people.

"Let's go," said Nat, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you to the middle of the dance floor, "it's time to dance!"

The beats were dirty and your body responded to them like a siren's call, your hips moving subconsciously to the rhythm. Dancing was one of your favorite ways to lose yourself, and so you did, melting into the sound, letting your body take you wherever it needed to go. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, and you instinctively knew it was Natasha behind you.

"Bruce not coming out to the floor?" you whisper-shouted into her ear as she moved her body against yours.

"No, he's being a dullard," Nat responded with a sigh.

"Give him time," you told her knowingly. "Once he's been watching you move your ass out here long enough, he'll cave just so he can get his hands on you. He always does."

"I know," she said, grinding her chest against your back, "but I do love giving him a show."

You laughed and continued dancing with your friend. You knew Bruce would come to her eventually. The poor man couldn't stay away, no matter how hard he'd tried in the beginning.

Slowly, the members of your little family found their way to you on the dance floor, and you were all dancing together in a group. Even Bruce had gotten over himself and had finally joined Natasha, who was now running her hands along his chest.

You had to admit, you were having the time of your life.

But then you saw them.

Bucky stood at the bar, Jade not far away. You tried to ignore him, you really did, but his eyes were boring a hole straight through you, and he looked amazing. He was wearing a pair of tight black jeans and the shirt you had gotten him last Christmas, the one that matched the color of his eyes. He'd cut his hair again, just the length you liked it-- the perfect length for pulling while he had his face buried between your-- No. You were NOT going to think about that.

Wanda had moved away from where she'd been dancing with Vision and came over to you, following the line of your eyes. "He has a lot of fucking nerve showing up here with her," she spat. "Do you want me to kick them out of here for you, love?"

You turned and wrapped your arms around her, smiling at her fierce protectiveness of you. "As much as I would love to see it, Wan, it's okay. I think I just want to pretend he doesn't exist and keep dancing. The last thing I need is them ruining my party by bringing more drama into my life."

Wanda put a hand on your elbow and shrugged, then leaned in to whisper "Suit yourself, but my offer still stands if you change your mind," before heading back over to Vision. You sighed, disappointed that the sight of him had dulled your excitement for the evening. But then you remembered Nat's gift.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the tiny pill. You considered your options for half a second before tossing it into your mouth and swallowing it. You were not going to let Bucky Fucking Barnes ruin your birthday.

A couple of hours later, after an enormous cake had been brought out, everyone singing to you and you blowing out your candles, you were feeling positively euphoric. Everything felt amazing. You were so in love with every single person in the room, you could cry. Your limbs were buzzing, as if the music was vibrating through them and your entire body was being poured full of liquid joy. You were connected to everyone. They were all a part of you, and you were a part of them.

You moved to the music, your hands caressing up and down your body, the sensation of touch almost overpowering in its intensity. You practically moaned when Natasha leaned over and whispered in your ear:

"Don't look now, but Steve's been staring at you for the last twenty minutes." You glanced over and noticed the super soldier standing at the bar next to Bucky, but in the clarity of the MDMA, Steve was all you could see. He was watching you intently, his eyes locked on the movement of your hips. You watched him lick his lips as your hands brushed across your chest, sending a wave of shivering pleasure through your body.

You didn't know why, but suddenly, it seemed like a really, really good idea to have Steve come dance with you, so you caught his eye and beckoned him over with a curl of your finger.

You laughed when you saw his eyes grow wide with surprise. He pointed at himself, as if he couldn't believe you were beckoning to him. You nodded and, chugging the rest of his drink before leaving the empty glass on the bar, he made his way to you.

"Hi," he said over the sound of the music when he was standing in front of you. God, he was so much taller than you were. Like a giant. Sublime's Badfish began to play.

"Hi," you hummed, the feelings of ecstasy pulsating through you. "Do you want to dance with me?" You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"Very much," he said, so softly that you wouldn't have been able to make it out if you hadn't read his lips. "But I don't really know how to dance to this music."

"I can teach you," you smiled up at him. Turning around, you put your back to his chest. Grabbing his left arm, you wrapped it across your bare stomach, splaying his fingers across your scorching skin. You put his right hand on your hip and let out a soft moan when he squeezed your flesh.

"Just move with me," you whispered, knowing that his enhanced hearing would catch your words through all the extra noise. Your entire body was pressed against his now, and the feeling of his hard muscles against you was sensational. You never wanted him to stop touching you. You slowly started grinding your hips against him, laughing a little when you heard him gasp. He began sliding his hand across your stomach, once or twice brushing the underside of your breasts with his thumb. Each touch was like a wave of light pulsating through you and you craved it. You could feel the length of his semi-hard erection pressing into your back, and somewhere in the far recesses of your mind, the idea of it surprised and concerned you, but in your current state, all you could do was feel. And you felt so. god. damned. good.

You leaned your head back against his chest, reaching back to grab a hold of his bicep and exposing the curve of your neck, and when he reached down and began planting small butterfly kisses where your neck met your shoulder, you thought you were going to come undone right there.

"You're so beautiful, Pocket," he whispered before taking your earlobe between his teeth and nibbling on it. Everything he did, everywhere your bodies connected, felt like pure magic.

You noticed the looks that you were getting from Nat, Wanda, and the others, but you didn't register them. The only thing that mattered right now was how good you felt, how good Steve was making you feel.

You weren't sure how much time went by. The songs changed, your tempo fluctuated, the people around you came and went, but the contact remained the same.

Finally, you turned yourself around in his arms, pressing your chest to his. He looked down at you, the blue of his eyes a mere ring around the black of his pupils.

"Stevie," you whispered, your voice husky, "will you take me back to my room?"

His lips curled up in a wicked grin and for the briefest of moments, you saw Bucky in your mind's eye, but you quickly shook the image away. Steve took you by the hand and, without another word, led you away from the party to the solitude of your bedroom.

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[scoonsaliciousupdates]

Unwanted: Chapter 24, Undercover - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, exotic dancing, underage drug use, implications of human trafficking, poorly translated Russian

Word Count: 1.8k

Previously On...: You returned back to the safehouse. Sam told you Bucky's been trying to avoid Cunthrage, but you're done caring.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I love Dimitri. <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You spent the next few days in one of two ways: your work hours trying to find out as much about Kozlov’s silent partners as possible, and your off time looking for someone to fuck the memory of Bucky right out of you.

You were coming up empty on the former, and even worse on the latter. It didn’t seem to matter how many guys you found to put their dicks in you; none of them did what Bucky could do to your body. You’d at least learned from your mistake with Bad Decision #1 and had gone out and bought a large pack of condoms. You weren’t going to run any more risks in that department. 

As you entered the floor for the start of your next shift, Henchman #2– Dimitri– you reminded yourself, approached you. 

“Cherry, yes?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Boss vants you to dance in his private lounge tonight,” he said, gently herding you in the direction of Kozlov’s suite of rooms.

“Okay,” you said hesitantly. “Is there a private party, or…” You left the thought hanging, hoping Dimitiri would fill the silence.

Bless his heart, the idiot did. He leaned down to whisper conspiratorially as you walked together. “Zer is big boss with Kozlov tonight,” he told you, and your heart nearly stopped. You couldn’t believe your luck. “He vishes to see ze best talent, and Kozlov ask for you special.” Your eyes glanced down to your bangle. Were they about to try and make you their latest offering for the auction block?

“Big boss?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “But I thought Kozlov owned the club. How can he have a boss if he is the boss?”

You’d stopped now in front of the doors to Kozlov’s rooms.

Dimitiri laughed, as though you were just a silly girl who couldn’t possibly understand how the world worked. “Kozlov owns Viggle Room, yes. Dis iz true. But big boss is from large group zat funds club. Very secret group. Very scary.” He raised his hands like monster claws and laughed. “Kozlov calls zem– how do you say? Gidra.” Hydra.

You gasped, and Dimitri mistook your surprise for fear.

“Oh, not to worry, little dove! I zink zis group not so scary as zey pretend to be. Gidra all talk.” He held up his hand like a puppet. “All ze time, Gidra is ‘blah, blah, blah,’ yes? No action.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, hoping you weren’t pressing your luck with your question.

“Zer is somezing Gidra iz looking for. Zey vant it very bad. Very, very bad. Zey look for long time, yes? But never find. Dimitri think, Gidra cannot be good at job if ze cannot find zis zing zey are to be looking for, no?”

“Well, what are they looking for? Maybe I’ve seen it.” Yeah, you were laying it on a little thick now, but you wanted to keep the man talking to see what other nuggets of intel he was willing to drop in your lap.

“Aw, little dove iz very sweet to ask. But Dimitri doez not know vhat zis important zing iz. Kozlov never say.” “That doesn’t seem very nice of him,” you said, hedging on a bet to gain move of the man’s confidence. “You’ve always seemed like a very good employee for Mr. Kozlov. Very loyal, very brave. He should reward you by trusting you more.”

Dimitri’s chest puffed up a bit at your words. “Little dove is kind. Dimitri iz not worried. Kozlov will tell if Dimitri must know.”

Well, that failed.

Dimitri knocked on the door, and after a moment, Kozlov answered, shirt half unbuttoned and nose already red from having snorted something. Wonderful, you thought. This’ll be great.

“Cherry Pie, boss,” Dimitri said, presenting you to Kozlov. The look the club owner gave you as he eyed you up and down was downright lecherous and you had to suppress the way it made your skin crawl.

“Ah, ze little dove, at last!” Kozlov exclaimed, throwing the door open wider. You glanced over his shoulder and could see a few other men, among them six or seven of Kozlov’s top girls in various states of undress. “Come, come,” he motioned you inside. “I have friendz I vish you to meet!”

If you had been expecting Kozlov to walk you up to each man and introduce them by name, you were sorely mistaken. Instead, he put his hands on your shoulder and addressed them as if you were an inanimate object.

“Gentlemen, I present our Cherry Pie! She haz only been vith us a short time, but she haz proved very popular, and has much talent. Show them vhat you do, little dove.”

He smacked your ass, your cue to begin your dance. You tried to keep your focus on the men’s conversation as you gyrated to the music, but one of the other girls danced her way over to you and tried striking up a conversation.

“Hi! I’m Chloe! I hope you don’t mind; I watched some of your sets. You’re such a good dancer!” You smiled in her direction, not wanting to take your concentration from the men, who seemed to be comparing the girls against one another. 

“How long have you been in the business,” the girl– Chloe– asked you.

“A while,” you murmured

“No wonder you’re so good, then!” She smiled brightly as she bent over and shook her ass. “You’ve had time to practice. I just started. My stepdad set me up at this place. I guess he used to play cards with Mr. Kozlov? That’s how he knew the club needed more dancers.”

That caught your attention and you froze momentarily. “How old are you?” you asked her. You turned to really look at her. God. She could have been you fifteen years ago.

Chloe leaned in close and whispered in your ear. “Eighteen,” she said with a giggle– you didn’t believe her for a minute, “but my stepdad said if anyone asks, I’m supposed to tell them I’m twenty-one”

Your stomach turned, and you felt for a moment like you might be sick. “Why aren’t you in school?” you asked her, trying to keep the sudden tremble out of your voice. 

Chloe shrugged as she turned in a seductive circle. “My stepdad says we need money more than I need school right now. He said once we’re back on our feet, I can go back.”

“What about your mom? What does she say? She can’t agree with that.”

Chloe’s face fell, and the churning sensation in your stomach intensified. “She’s sick.” Her voice was so soft now you had to strain to hear it. 

Your breathing began coming faster, your pulse picking up. This was wrong. “You shouldn’t be here, Chloe,” you whispered to her, desperation in your voice.

Chloe frowned and paused her dancing. “I know I’m not as good as you, but I’m a fast learner. I’ll get better.”

“No,” you interjected quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I mean you shouldn’t be in this club, you shouldn’t be a fucking stripper. You’re just a kid. You should be in school, getting an education, not shaking your ass for some scumbag stepfather.”

A heavy crease appeared between Chloe’s brows. “He’s not a scumbag,” she countered. “He works hard, but the money’s just never enough. Mom’s medicine is expensive, and we don’t have insurance.”

“Then he should have gotten you a job at McDonald’s or something, not making you show strange men your tits for money!” you hissed. 

Chloe took a step away from you. “You’re not better than me,” she said, and you could hear the hurt in her voice.

“I never said I was,” you began.

“Ladies!” Kozlov called, interrupting you and drawing the girls’ attention back to where the men were sitting, “come, it iz time to share some party favors!” 

On the table were lines of coke, one prepared for each dancer. “Who vill go first?” Kozlov asked with a grin.

Chloe stepped forward, casting you a cold glance. 

“Ah, Chloe! Come, come, love.” You wanted to scream, to swipe your hand across the table and send the white powder flying across the room, but it was vital you maintain your cover. You didn’t have nearly enough information to risk blowing it over some, well, blow.

The men murmured appreciatively as Chloe bent over, making sure to point her ass in their direction, as she snorted the line up her nose. It was obvious by the ease in which she did it, with no hesitation, that this was not her first time. You closed your eyes.

One by one, the other girls stepped forward to do their lines. You noticed how the men murmured amongst themselves as each girl stepped up, as if they were judging them. And then it hit you.

This was a test. 

They were determining how well you each followed orders, how much resistance you would put up. You watched as some of the girls sniffled and sneezed as they inhaled; these were the girls who made the men seem happiest– you knew they were pleased to see a girl who apparently had never done coke before willingly do so just because a man told her to. They were judging your submissiveness.

Finally, there were only two of you left: you, and a redhead you knew went by Birdie. The poor girl looked terrified and was shaking her head. You stepped forward.

“Ah, little dove,” Kozlov cooed, “I vaz vondering vhen you vould come play.” You took a deep breath to steel your nerves, bent down, and snorted the two remaining lines yourself.

You felt the rush hit you almost immediately. “Oops,” you giggled, “sorry, Birdie. I guess I got a little greedy.” There was no mistaking the gratitude in the other girl’s eyes– it was obvious to her that you had snorted the second line so that she wouldn’t have to. 

You could already feel your heart begin to race, and for a moment, you almost felt like you had two heartbeats. Kozlov came up behind you and wrapped a lanky arm around your waist. 

“Naughty, naughty, little dove,” he smirked at you. “I vill have to punish you later,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver of repulsion throughout your body, which Kozlov must have taken for anticipation, because he pressed his hips into your back, and you could feel his erection press against you. 

From there, your memories of the night became hazy. You had brief flashes of awareness– grinding against one of the visiting men– kissing another dancer– Kozlov’s hands all over your body. You knew the situation was not ideal, that Sam would be furious with you. Hell, you knew you could potentially jeopardize the entire mission, but in the moment, you realized that all the pain, all the anger and rage you’d been holding in because of Bucky– all that was just gone, as though it had blown away on the wind. And though a tiny voice in the back of your head was telling you you’d regret everything in the morning, for the moment, you were grateful.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[half-dead-ham]

Tim Drake's I.E.F chap 4

[Previous chap][Ao3 chap][Masterlist][next chap]

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

Jason here, with some bonding on multiple levels!

It took Danny's core a total of four days for it to be satisfied with Tim's safety in the cave while recovering. Four days plus the three since before Tim got shot since Danny's checked in with his friends back in Amity.

He's honestly surprised the Boomerang hasn't beaned him yet.

Only after making sure he had a few methods of keeping Tim safe remotely and telling his new friend—as much as he was able to without talking—that he'd be gone for a bit did he fly back over to his old squat house and retrieve the rest of his things, including his phone. The new guys there didn't seem like the friendly sort, but when you can go invisible that's not really a problem.

His go bag was still in the same place he'd left it four days ago—inside the first floor bathroom's wall—along with the change of clothes and cash Sam had shoved in it on his way out of Amity. He took it easily and shot up through the top of the building, missing the guy sleeping in the bath tub's panicked start.

Hesitantly he turned his phone back on. The moment it was done the startup sequence it began vibrating nonstop, and Danny had to wonder how much of that was his friends worrying versus actual updates about his hometown. Scrolling through and, yep, that's a lot of 'answer or I'll kick your ass' texts from Sam, probably one every other hour since the second day, judging by the time stamps. The texts he was getting from Tuck were much the same, albeit much less violent and graphic about what bodily part's would be stuck where if he didn't answer soon.

Picking a direction and shooting off Danny soon found himself sailing high above the Atlantic ocean. He made sure Gotham bay was only a spec in the distance (to fool any attempts at trying to track his phone call, just to be safe) then hit the group dial on their chat.

Two connection tones sounded on top of each-other, and the first words Danny heard from his friends in a week were "give me one good reason why we aren't already in Gotham looking for your half-dead ass after you literally ghosted us for a week."

"Hi to you too, Sam," he chuckled in response. It was nice actually getting to talk to someone, with actual words.

"Ohhh no. You don't get to pull the 'Hi to you too, Sam' bit after missing two check-ins in a row with no explanation."

"Danny…" Tucker's voice came in with a lot less fire in it, but with twice the worry of Sam's. "Why is your phone pinging two hundred miles off the coast of New Jersey? Did you get into something again?"

Ah, yes. His friends knew him so well.

"To answer both of your questions, my phone is pinging two hundred miles from New Jersey because I am two hundred miles from New Jersey, give or take with the altitude. I didn't mean to ghost you, really, something came up and I forgot the phone at my old place."

"Old place? Danny, what came up that you had to move safehouses? What do you mean something came up?" Oh yeah, Sam wasn't happy with him. If he weren't safely riding in international waters he was sure Sam would find him and make sure no one found his corpse. If he could leave a corpse that is.

"Yeahhh… about that?" He let out a nervous chuckle, free hand travelling to the back of his neck. "I kinda made a friend?"

"What?!" Sam's shriek had Danny's ears swivelling down and his toes curling at the intensity.

"Danny, I say this with all the love in my cold, dead heart, but what the actual fuck would make you think making a friend while on the run was a good idea?!"

"Danny dude," Tucker spoke up, "I thought you've had some bad ideas before, but this. Man, at least tell me you didn't give out your real name?"

"Heh heh eh… funny story? They kinda gave me a name."

The statement was met with only the sound of the rolling waves underneath him. As the quiet grew he started to get fidgety, maybe not starting from the beginning wasn't the best idea…

Finally, after what seemed like hours, a woosh of air passed Sam's mic as a single word came over the call. "Explain" left no room for jokes, rambling it is then.

"So I may or may not have been hanging around this guy at night while doing some flying to clear my head. The guy seemed nice enough and pretty popular so I kinda thought 'whats the harm?' and started haunting the guy when he went out 'cause I was bored and we kinda grew into this on official friendship between us? Cause apparently he knew I was there even though I was invisible like all of the time, so cause I knew he knew I was there I started helping him with the things he was doing? Like little not obvious things but apparently he noticed him anyway cause his family is like a bunch of detectives and so he notices things. Anyway like four days ago he was shot and I've kinda been with him since cause my core thinks he's someone I need to protect even though I didn't actually know the guys name till after he got shot and-"

"Danny, dude, this is like, waaaay too much info all at once. You got a spark notes version of this story?" Tucker cut in. Having a friend that both had a tendency to ramble and no need to breathe could give him a headache sometimes.

Before Danny could start back up, Sam cut him off "... Danny, what's the name of the guy you were stalking?" It was phrases like a question, but with who it was coming from, it was more of a demand.

Panicking he tries to evade the question, "stalking? I wasn't stalking him, I was… hanging out? Without him knowing it was a hangout?"

"Danny…"

"I mean really, stalking is such a strong word. I'd prefer the term non-consensual bodyguarding."

"Danny."

"It's not like I was even doing anything usually, just hanging around the same places he was. At night… alone."

"Danny, the name!" Sam snapped. He really shouldn't tell his friends, because if they know his new friend is Tim Drake-Wayne then they'll want to know why he was hanging around him at night, and why he got shot. Those were not questions he wanted to answer at the moment. He knew what they'd say if he did.

"I can't tell you," he blurted out.

"...What?" Oh, oh yeah, that was a bad play, Fenton.

"I can't tell you his name, you'll get mad at me," he knew she sounded like a child, but his friends were always the more responsible parent types anyway.

"Danny dude, what in Clockworks name do you think will make her any more angry than she already is?" While Tucker brought up a good point, he already knew the answer to that question.

"...Timothy Drake-Wayne?" Was all he could say to reply.

Once again all that joined him was the sound of the rolling waves. Were they shocked? Angry? (Of course they were angry, angrier?) It was really hard to gauge his friends' responses with just their voices.

Finally Sam whispered "what do you mean, Timothy Drake-Wayne?" That voice. He knew that voice, if he were any closer to her when she spoke in that voice he'd be halfway through the zone already trying to hide.

The heat of a thousand suns couldn't compare to the fury in that one question.

"I mean, I started haunting Tim Drake-Wayne accidentally? And then sorta got attached?"

Sam was trying to re-kill him through the phone somehow, he knew it. Tucker graciously offered an out with "Why was the co-CEO of Wayne Enterprise going out enough in Gotham to require a ghostly bodyguard Danny? The dude is, like, super kidnappable right?"

Ancients damn Tucker and his logical questioning making Danny want to drop his phone in the ocean and fly back as fast as possible. Unfortunately, now that they knew who he was haunting, they could just show up at Wayne manor to find him. That would definitely out him to Tim's family, he hadn't even done any pranking with the guy yet.

Audibly sighing into the mic, Danny's hand travels back to his neck as he speaks. "You guys gotta understand that what I'm going to tell you next is a secret, okay? Like, my level of secret secret. Tucker, this line is encrypted right?"

At Tucker's confused sound of approval he continues.

"So originally I didn't actually know I was following Tim Drake. I was following Red Robin. I only know who he is now because I followed him to the Batcave after he got shot."

He really should have something to do for when he accidentally stuns his friends into silence. Fidgeting can get boring pretty fast after a bit.

After another eternity a groan came from Sam's end. Danny hoped that was a good sign.

"So you were stalking a vigilante and accidentally put him in your 'I'd take a bullet for you' list? Danny, that's all kinds of stupid. He's a vigilante, it's his job to fight and protect, not be protected! And what were you saying about your core bonding to him?" Well at least she sounded more 'tired of this shit' and less 'grind him to dust' now, Danny for the win?

"You know how I get all ghostly protective about you guys getting in danger? It's kinda like that with him now. It feels so weird having my instincts labelling someone outside of Amity as one of my humans. Kinda the whole 'I've only known him for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him I'd kill everyone here and then myself' meme. It's creepy, and not the good kind."

"I hate that you just described your ghostly instinct to protect people with a meme, dude." Tucker half groaned, half chuckled. At least he appreciated the humour in it.

"At least he's acknowledging he's getting into stalker protective territory, before he just thought he was being a helicopter friend." Sam added in. He hated when she brought up his early phases, when he still didn't know how being a ghost worked (he still doesn't, really.)

"So how are we going to play this, dude? Want me to hack into the Batcave, see what they got on you?" He could hear the gears in Tucker's head spinning, trying to find the best code bits to use on the bats firewalls. Danny chuckled at the image of Tuck going against  a family of trained hackers and coming out on top.

"Nah, Tuck. I-" Something cut him off, there was a buzzing in his core. The kind he knew was meant as a silent alarm. Tim was in trouble and he had to get back now.

"Guys, I gotta go. I'll check back with you later." He hung up, hearing his friends' voices of protest as he did so. Stowing his phone, he shot back to Gotham at mach speed.

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

It took Tim a while to get used to the fact that he was no longer ignoring the cold spot staying in his room. They were surprisingly easy to talk to, once they got past the fact that Arct could really only do yes or no questions with the statue as help. Trying to figure out that his friend had to go do something for a while took some time, especially with just the yes or no probing.

Before he left, Tim asked Arct to get him something to read, they came back with his laptop and the stack of files and books from his nightstand (how did it know which bedroom was his?) With one last Bob of the galaxy, his friend set it down and floated out, bringing with him the now comforting cold.

He'd finished up all the work emails saying he'd been in an accident and was just starting on the novel he's been meaning to read when he heard the revv of an engine coming to rest in the cave. As it was currently the day all of the usual bats were either at work or school, or resting up for tonight's patrol. Only a few members came in during the day, and he was about to try and figure it out when the question was answered for him.

Jason didn't even knock, instead kicking the door open with his boot and striding in like he lived here. Tim could only give a mildly annoyed glare as he watched his second eldest brother plop himself down in the chair next to him and kick his feet up on the side of the bed.

He sighed, realizing the book would have to wait again. Closing it and returning it to the stack on the side table, he looked to Jason, now with Red Hood helmet and domino mask off. He opened his mouth to speak but Jason beat him to it with. "Why d'you smell like death? I thought you survived the whole bullet to the chest thing."

Okay, that's not what Tim was expecting to come out of his brother's mouth. Not even a hello? Hell, how'd he even know he was in the medbay? He voiced that thought and he got a "group chat," in reply. Of course it was the family group chat.

Tim sighed and readjusted his position in bed. Talking with Jason was always tiring with how little respect he got from the former Robin. He knew Jason felt he replaced him when he died, but the fact he brought it up over and over again really didn't make him feel any better about it.

"Yo, Replacement, you gonna answer me? Why the hell do you smell like you took a shower in pit water? How'd you even find a pit not guarded by the League to begin with?"

"Do you really think I'd still be in a bed in medbay if I went anywhere near a Lazarus pit?" Tim really didn't know why his brother thought he had anything to do with the thing that brought him back before, he didn't really care either.

He watched as Jason scrunched up his nose and looked around the room.

"This place reeks of death more than the pit caves Ra's used. If you didn't come back, then why does it smell so bad?"

Jason was more connected to the pit than his other family members who'd been around them, Tim knew he wasn't lying about the smell. A trickle of cold creeped down his back as he started getting an idea as to what caused it. He didn't want to be right.

His older brother had redoubled his investigation, trying to pinpoint the source of the stench. Eyes finally landing on his bedside table, he swept the stack of papers onto the floor and grabbed the previously obscured ice statue. Tim's creeping feeling got stronger as his brother slowly turned to face him, green seeping into his normally blue eyes.

"Where the hell did you get this?" Jason asked with forced calm, gripping the statuette so hard Tim thought it might crumble.

"A friend gave it to me," he replied smoothly. It was the truth, his friend made him the statue of suspiciously never melting ice and he didn't question it.

The first twisting the collar of his hospital gown told him he maybe should have, as he was yanked forwards, pulling at the wires and tubes attached to him. Nearly off the bed now, Jason asked with Lazarus green in his eyes. "Who. Gave. You. This?"

Tim struggled to keep the groan of pain from escaping him. The drainage tube in his chest was being pulled in a very not fun way, and he would really like to not have Alfred redo his work in patching him up.

"I told you, I got it from a friend," he ground out.

Jason was about to say something else when an invisible force knocked him to the side and off his feet. The room dropped twenty degrees and the lights started flickering as Tim could feel hands on him. Cold and too long to be human, they kept him from falling forward off the bed and face planting on the floor. Gingerly laying him back down, his friend made sure nothing was taken out or reopened before raising in the air. Tim could feel the anger radiating off his friend in frigid waves, falling heavy like mist off dry ice and charged with electricity.

Jason could feel it too, as he looked exactly where Tim knew Arcturus was floating and pointed, hand cupping his cheek and still holding the statue.

"How the hell did you get a pit demon as a pet?!" He exclaimed.

Confused, Tim asked "what the hell is a pit demon?"

He watched as his brother looked from him to Arcturus and back, face cemented in shock and disbelief.

"You mean you don't know what the hell this is?!" Jason waves his arms in his friend's general direction. "Why are you not freaked out by this then?!"

The cold anger had died down some, replaced by static white noise and breaking ice. Shrugging as best he could, Tim replied, "he's not the weirdest thing I've seen, and he's pretty friendly too."

Jason was thrown. Could Tim not see the black cloud of twisted human floating in front of him? With eyes greener than Lazarus water on an expanse of black, hair dancing and jerking like it was underwater and getting electrocuted at the same time. The thing was only vaguely human shaped, a black cloud in the form of a body with no legs, and arms clad in white gloves ending in claws long and sharp enough to be daggers. He didn't want to look at it for long, its beady eyes stared right into his soul and face contorted into a snarl that held too many teeth for anything natural.

Tim still looked confused, why was he confused? Jason was about to get re-killed by something the pit water inside him curled up and cowered in fear of. He doubted he stood a snowball's chance in hell against this thing and his brother was sitting there like nothing was wrong. 

Okay, Danny clearly missed a memo before flying into his friend's rescue, so he's maybe a little confused on some things. Like firstly, Tim wasn't actually acting like he was in danger from this guy, despite him nearly pulling out all the equipment helping Tim to heal. His friend looked confused and mildly annoyed at most by New Guy's presence. Secondly, New Guy stank. Rotting ectoplasm stench seeped from him like he got dipped in a zone waste pool. Other than the green tinged in his eyes, though, he seemed otherwise okay, which was just another point of confusion. Lastly, his thoughts echoed what Tim had asked before. What the hell was a pit demon?

"I'm not a pet," he grumbled offhandedly. He knew neither human could understand him—ghost speak couldn't be made by human mouths or processed entirely by human brains. Regular people just heard crackling static and creaking glaciers with emotional intent when he spoke it. He turned to check on Tim more thoroughly when he heard an unexpected reply.

"Then why the hell is a pit demon staying around my little brother," Jason breathed. Replying to the things grumbling wasn't the smartest thing to do, but the fact that something he thought wasn't even sentient had said something he could understand had basically turned his brain off.

That couldn't have been directed at Danny, could it? Maybe not going human for a while had him hearing things. Checking Tim over again helped his form settle at least, but now his brain spun with the possibilities. Also, this dude was Tim's big brother? Pretty dick move of him to hurt Tim for their first meeting then. Not even Dick did that.

Tim was still looking between Jason and Arct. Did his brother just reply to the static hissing he'd heard before? Was that actually his friend trying to communicate? But then how could Arct understand English? And lastly.

"You didn't answer my question Jason—what's a pit demon, and why do you think there's one in this room?" If Jason knew what his friend was then maybe they could figure out a way to communicate better.

Okay, so apparently Tim didn't know what the affront to nature tucking him in was, that was fine. Jason had to swallow down the bile working its way up his throat. At least the thing's form had settled enough he could look at it now. It was almost- Jason couldn't say human looking. With purple tinged skin, pointed ears and fingers, and eyes that shone brighter and greener than any pit he'd come across, no way could this thing actually pass for human. Didn't stop it from trying though, it had formed actual legs while Jason had been staring, making the thing about as tall as he was. The clothes it was wearing, a baggy black hoodie and cargo pants almost made the thing resemble a teenager, one who prefers comfort and function over style. Its gaze swept over him and he'd realized he hadn't said anything for too long.

Keeping his eyes on the demon next to his brother, Jason stood up on shaking legs.

"A pit demon is just what it sounds like, a thing that couldn't possibly be human that crawled out of a Lazarus pit. Surprised demon brat hasn't already tried to chase it off, but I remember something about only those 'chosen by the pit' being able to see it or some shit. Don't remember much else other than that they're extremely violent and attack anything with a heartbeat."

Well, Tim was at a loss. His friend was supposedly from a race that came out of the Lazarus pits to attack people, yet so far his friend has only hurt those who hurt Tim first. He turned his gaze to where he felt his friend standing, remembering what he could of when they'd saved him. Sure, Arcturus wasn't human, but he wasn't that monstrous, right?

"That's bullshit," came out of Danny before he could stop himself. So that's what people thought of the ghosts that used the waste pools? He knew they could be used to travel between the zone and the human world, but they stank of rotting ectoplasm too much for him to ever want to try it. Sighing he used a bit of intangibility to swipe the statuette out of Tim's brothers—Jason's?—hand. Only revelling slightly from the full body jerk he caused in doing so.

Okay, so, Jason wasn't hearing things before. He clearly heard the thing speak. It was also aware of how terrifying it was if the smile at making Jason recoil was anything to go off.

"You do realize this thing is horrifying to look at, right?" He told his brother, not taking his eyes off the thing that could potentially eviscerate the whole house.

Tim's eyes grew wide. "You can see them?!" He exclaimed in surprise.

Danny's words echoed Tim's almost perfectly. "You can see me?" The static in his voice popping like a live wire as he sat the statuette down on the nightstand.

"Yeah I can see you, ya freak of nature. How'd you end up in Gotham? There aren't any pits for you to crawl out from near here." Was Jason possibly inciting the anger of the thing that could rip him to shreds? Yes, yes he was, but he had to know whether or not a new pit had formed close to Gotham in case the League came a-calling.

"Ancients, you can understand me?!" Danny had to keep his eyes from going beyond human wide. He was talking to someone that wasn't dead. In ghost speak! Was it a side effect of the waste water in his system, maybe? How it got there was a question he didn't need to know right now as he just looked at the guy that had answered him.

"Yeah?" Jason drawled wearily, that was not the reaction he expected. "You sound like you're talking over a Tesla coil, but you're speaking English, right?" He looked to his brother for aid but only saw the calculated look all bats used when they didn't want to openly appear confused.

Looking back, the thing had risen from its seat, literally. It was floating in a sitting position about two feet above the chair.

"I've never heard of a human that could understand ghost speak before!" The thing said excitedly.

"And I've never known a pit demon that could speak at all before," he replied without thinking.

The thing cocked its head. "Well most ghosts that use the waste pools just use them to get into the human world to cause chaos, not to talk. Any ghost with any ounce of self respect would either find a natural portal or make one." 

"Ghost? Portals? Are you saying pit demons are dead people? And that they come to earth through more than just the Lazarus pits?" That was a terrifying thought. More monsters coming to earth from ways other than the pits? Who knows what destruction they could—have already—cause. "There any way to stop them?"

"No? Natural portals are random, and ghosts that can make portals themselves prefer to stay in the zone where it's safe? Why should I even be telling you this, you don't look like you have the weapons to fight a ghost. Who are you anyway?"

Jason looked at his brother (who looked entirely lost at this point) back to the pit demon—ghost?—that was watching him with suspicion, feet back in the ground and firmly seated in the chair.

"Hey, Replacement," he chuckled but cut it to a cough at the things scowl. "You haven't told your buddy about me yet? I'm hurt, really."

Finally being included into the conversation, and it was to introduce the asshole of a brother to his possibly terrifying friend? Tim sighed and waved his good hand at the end of the bed.

"Arcturus, this is my older adoptive brother, Jason Todd, aka Red Hood. Jason, this-" he motioned to the chair "-is my new friend, I call him Arcturus because he can't say his real name."

Jason snorts and finally peels his eyes off the dead thing in front of him. "Really Timmy? You see what is essentially an eldritch terror and decide to name it after a star?" At his little brother's blush he couldn't help but laugh. "How cheesy can you get?" He said between breaths.

Meanwhile, Danny was having a crisis. He had punched Red Hood. In the face. He had punched his favourite Gotham vigilante in the face. Ancients end him right now. He wanted to scream.

"I just my favourite vigilante in the face for my friend," he groaned instead, putting his face in his hands.

Jason had to laugh harder at that. He couldn't help it, you couldn't make this shit up if you tried.

"Hey Timmy," he wheezed. "Your friend here just said I'm his favourite vigilante. Take that!"

Without looking up Danny took one hand off his face to point at Red Hood (ancients, Red Hood, his helmet was on the floor beside him how did he not notice?!)

"Second favourite," was all he could muster while reconsidering his half-life choices.

At the confused squawk of "hey!" He smirked and added, "Red Robin isn't an ass, so he got you beat there." 

By the way Jason was pouting and the room finally went back to its regular temperature, Tim could at least tell they weren't at each other's throats anymore.

"What did he say?" Tim asked.

"I've been demoted to second favourite. Dead guy can't handle sass." The reply had him chuckling, definitely not hostile anymore, that was good.

"Sounds like another dead guy I know," he commented. The look Jason gave him could have been angry, if the indignant undertone didn't make it so funny.

Huh, so the whole 'Jason Todd died but got better' thing wasn't just a rumour then. Interesting.

"So you're such a sore loser you came back just to spite death? Talk about petty," he joked at the vigilante as he lifted his face out of his hand. Another thing to have in common with one of his favourite heroes (anti-heroes?), they just couldn't stay dead.

Jason clicked his tongue at the ghost, "whatever you Kirby villain reject." The bark of laughter from his right and the stuttering in front of him had him feeling a lot better about his brother's safety. Yeah, he might not be able to beat the thing in front of him, but maybe he wouldn't have to. The fact that he could think clearly after not feeling the pit move since Tim's friend appeared helped.

"Alright, as fun as this meet and greet was, I need to head back to the Narrows." His brother's laughter died down as he slapped his knees and stood up. Still keeping a safe distance from Tim's dead friend he grabbed his discarded helmet and put his domino mask back on.

"Oh yeah," he heard Tim call out from behind him, "why'd you even come in the first place? I know you didn't do it just to annoy me."

Jason was glad he'd reasserted his domino mask as he half turned to view his brother. He looked him up and down one last time with a conflicted expression before turning back to walk out.

"A guy can be worried for his brother sometimes, give me some credit," he confided as he left for his bike.

The silence followed the rumble of Jason's bike out of the cave. That was not what Tim was expecting in this conversation at all. Jason came to check on him? He was worried about Tim? Shock couldn't begin to describe the mix of emotions he was feeling with that revelation.

A hum to his right brought him out of his musings as he turned his head to look at the space where his friend should be.

"So, that was my brother Jason." He huffed. "He's kind of an asshole, but he's family. The pit messed with his head a bit so he has some anger issues. Also I took over as Robin after he died, and since he's come back has pretty much thought of me as a replacement. I'm pretty sure he only uses the nickname as a joke now, though." That sounded better in his head. "He's seriously not that bad a guy though," he added on more as an afterthought.

He watched as the statuette lifted off its base as his friend showed he acknowledged the statement. A burst of cold then hit Tim square in the face. That was his friend's sign he was being self deprecating and, yeah, he kind of deserved that.

Comfortable silence enveloped the two as they both individually processed the encounter. The statue floating about half a foot off the seat of the chair in what Tim supposed was Arcturus' lap. He realized Jason had basically confirmed a few things about Arcturus through talking to him in the conversation Tim could only understand half of.

"Hey," the model twitched, "you can speak English, right? Not just that static noise that lets me tell what you're feeling?"

One dip of the statue means that yes, his friend could speak to him if he wanted to.

"Is there some reason you don't then? A reason you don't speak directly to me?" He watched as the statue stayed floating in its position for a moment, then almost reluctantly dipped a 'yes.'

"Why then?" The static that filled the room was charged with paranoia and distrust. It hurt, just a bit, but it didn't all feel directed at him.

"Do you not trust me then?" A rapid jerk to the side must count for a big 'no,' which made him feel a little better.

"…Maybe you don't trust my family?" Tim had found that if the statue didn't move, then he was halfway to the answer. Mulling the statement over a moment it dawned on him, it was stupid of him not to have realized sooner.

"You don't trust the bats, do you?" The statue dipping again meant 'yes' and tilted almost vertically. Was his friend showing he was ashamed in doing that? It didn't sting Tim quite as much as his friend not trusting him and he knew Bruce alone made a lot of reasons for any supernatural creature to stay out of Gotham. Tim turned his head to look at his lap as the gears spun in his head.

"Why did you stick around me then? I'm Red Robin, a part of Gotham's protectors, weren't I someone you should have avoided?" Maybe Tim didn't want to know the answer, but he had to ask for the safety of his family. If his friend got close to him just to get to his family, well, maybe Tim wasn't as smart as he thought he was.

The crunching sound of boots under snow mixed with a tuning radio had Tim feeling things he hadn't in a while. Curiosity and childish glee filled his chest with a warmth that was almost bringing tears to his eyes. Wiping away the damp he turned back to his friend with a smile.

"You can trust me, you know. Maybe you don't right now, and that's okay. But I promise I'll get you to trust me eventually." His voice was dripping with conviction that for once wasn't forced.

And if the hum he got back wasn't charged with emotion and only gave off a little reverb? Well, he could keep that to himself.

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

Y'know, when I originally rote this chapter I thought 'Kirby villain reject' was suck a great insult for something that looked like Danny. It just fits him, given his eldretch-ness in this fic.

Also, Kidnappable should absolutely be a real word. Calling it now.

Also also! This chapter has fanart! You can find it here!

[Ao3][Prev][Next]

[monettsuki]

Love you to the end

Angell x fem!chief

Genre: Angst (with a happy ending kind of?)

Idk if this is good or not, obviously not proofread

Second AN: this is formulated so bad I might just rewrite it soon bye

When longing is a feeling that you can't shake off, even after she had left a long time ago.

You fed the goldfish once again, having provided them a much bigger aquarium, now lavishly decorated and having regular water changes as expected.

Turning on the record player that once belonged to a person now missing from your life, that once sat in the dimly lit bedroom that was always cluttered, where you tucked in someone that at first meant you harm but in the little time you had spent together she seemed to warm up to you, her cold exterior actually making her approachable.

Days are passing by, living this lie

Not knowing what we're looking for.

Gray, these walls are gray and there's no sky

There is no hope, there is no soar

I know somewhere there must be more

You started asking yourself what did you actually miss about her? What did you actually want from Angell? Was it love or just a comfortable feeling between two people that just got accustomed to having the other around and then missed their presence when they could no longer be around. You hoped for the day when Angell would be back and maybe then you'd share a bed, being in her arms and seeking out comfort for all these cold and sleepless nights you had spent dreaming of her, cooking red bean soup for her as the familiar song, always playing in her headphones would be heard.

A thought that maybe you had gone a bit insane while you had been with her appeared in your mind. How could you wish for closure with someone that had initially kidnapped you, and was about to hurt you in ways that could have put you in a coffin. Maybe there was a possibility that she would have attended the funeral, or there could've been a possibility for you to spend your night in the room that was always messy, in the same bed Angell found solace in and hoped for good dreams.

For you she was the good dream, the good dream that you experience only once and you always remember it as one of the best you've ever had. Sometimes you wished that she'd just show up out of nowhere, not to stay but just to visit, to see how you're feeling, maybe pat your back while she's at it for a job well done, not dying on her watch that is.

How have you become her sunshine in such a short amount of time? Maybe you could even drag her out of the abyssal sea she found herself in, having embraced death and became a version of it. But then she left her sunshine, and she was your moon, the moon that protected your nights and rested in your dreams, or watched over you with your head in your hands on restless nights,nights spent listening to the song that reminded you of her.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, you continued going on about your days as usual, trying to forget about Angell even if you dedicated your nights to her. Wanting to feel her presence again, to seek comfort for all these soulless nights you spent without being in her arms.

One rainy evening, a good decision seemed to be to take a long walk, maybe the rain and coldness of the nighttime would push away any thoughts of Angell that remained in your mind, something which you have been trying to do for a long time.

Fate seemed to have other plans that night, as when you found yourself on the ground with some gangsters that were after your head someone took care of them just like that. You could barely make out the silhouette of the one that stood in the shadow, yet recognising the blade held by that person right away. Jumping upwards, even if your limbs ached a little bit from the hits you got, ultimately making your way to touch the figure's shoulder.

In the end it was Angell, who had somehow become an angel that just saved you ,ending up again in her grasp after all this time although this time it was something that both parties seemed to want.

At this point both of you were soaked by the rain, hearing Angell let out a chuckle, picking up your umbrella as the two of you started walking in a comforting silence, reminiscent of the times when you both sat down on the couch which she always seemed to stay on before retreating to her room.

The walk back to your home was a daze, not even realising that you found yourself close to Angell, somehow having convinced her to stay for the night,finding yourself wrapping your arms tightly around her, knowing that the next morning the bed will be cold and empty, no remnant of her presence remaining. Not only was she holding you close to her, you realized she had kissed your cheek, the second sign of affection that she newly showed to you, it felt like she was confessing silently, something you had grown accustomed to for her to be silent, seemingly not liking to speak much.

She started humming a melody, one you had associated with her, as if to lull you to sleep, with no promise if she will stay, her fingers tangling into your hair, her chin on your head as she held you in a warm embrace, something you've never expected from her.

.

.

.

But the next morning you found yourself still in her arms, being held closely as you could feel her chest rising and falling, sitting up and making sure you didn't wake her up, because she needed a good night's rest, now watching her sleep and wanting to touch her, only to make sure that it wasn't all a dream.

Your wrist had been caught swiftly in a firm grip , Angell being wide awake now and hearing the familiar words that she had been resting her eyes, which was a complete lie. She let go of your wrist, her eyes being once again closed as you leaned down to kiss her forehead, something which prompted her to pull you back into her arms, mumbling something under her breath that she didn't want to get up yet.

This was a good dream for both of you it seemed, one that could be neverending if she just came with you.

Closing your eyes you decided to put that thought away, not wanting to disturb her good dream, which seemed to just be laying in bed with her former captive, now her sunshine, a sunshine that she had decided long ago to protect, even if she was something that couldn't be contained, both of you knew that maybe this could work out in some way. That if some effort was put into it.

.

.

Angell was now watching you intently after she had dragged your body back down next to hers, letting out a relaxed sigh, wishing to make this dream last forever. But to do that it meant that she had to make a sacrifice, and now it mattered how willing she was to do so.

Kissing the top of your head while restraining herself from kissing her cheeks again, or kissing your lips. She was asking herself how would it feel if she cupped your cheek and then closed the distance between your lips. Would you reciprocate the kiss? Was it something that would make you push her away or pull her in for more? But for now she only wishes to have you in her arms, for as long as humanly possible.

[pumpkin-pi-e]

You Take Me By The Heart When You Call Me Your Man

Aizawa/gn!reader

A/N: I just had the cutest thought. Hi, yes, I'm here to share the cuteness.

Synopsis: You call Aizawa your husband, and he undergoes a heart attack.

Aizawa is a certified zombie as he shuffles outside his office. He braves a perilous hallway while avoiding wayward cat toys strewn along the floor. Shouta side-steps his responsible fur babies who refuse to nap in the expensive beds he wasted his money on, all in search of that sweet, sweet, life-saving bean juice.

The first time you say it, his legs give out, and he dramatically clutches his chest like a heart attack.

Stoicism doesn't mean he can't be dramatic. Aizawa can be quite the drama king when it suits him. Spending too much time around Hizashi is a curse, not a blessing.

As Shouta's life hangs in the balance, coffee becomes an afterthought.

Sure, you've done adorable things before. Doing cute things is in your DNA. It's only natural for you to express your feelings in adorable ways.

But this? This? This takes the cake.

Curious cats check on their downed father, who sunk to his knees, but it's too late. He's too far gone for saving. He's already accepted his death—died and gone to heaven because you called him your husband.

Kitten, how could you play into his domestic kink like this? You know how weak he gets.

When you rush over to help him (thinking he had an honest-to-God heart attack), You find yourself pulled down by the very hand that reached out to him, and soon you're face-to-face with a blushing Aizawa begging for your lips.

Kitten, please, please, kiss him. Aizawa doesn't think there’s ever been a time when he needed you as badly as he does now.

He all but shoves his forehead against you, still desperately seeking your permission. The hero’s breathing is strangely labored as he takes your hands, interlocking your fingers together. “Kitten, kiss me.” You hear him swallow just before he pushes his head against you a little more. “Please.” His eyes flutter closed. “Please.”

Of course, he asks for you to repeat it. Again. And again, and again—until you’re breathless from all the kisses Shouta takes from you.

The second time, you were on one of your rare dates (hauling Aizawa around a mall and buying whatever he happens to glance at as compensation.) Shouta tugged your sleeve, pointing to a cupcake vendor. You'd initially sighed. Figures. Him and his sweet tooth. Of course, that would be the first thing he'd want. Godless--hasn't even had lunch yet. Shouta’s eyes widen a fraction as you request two vanilla cupcakes for your husband. There’s no outward reaction besides his blushed skin and the sudden kiss he gives you afterward.

You use your newfound ability as a bargaining piece. It proved rather handy in persuading a tall, rugged, and handsome ‘someone’ to take a break from working.

You can tell he's overworked just by looking at him. His hands are constantly pressed against his temple, kneading a headache in slow, methodical circles as he grades the paper in front of him. Twice in the minute you've been standing in his doorway, you’ve seen him rub his eyes and reach for a bottle of eye drops beside him - no doubt used to keep them functioning despite the strain he’s putting them under. You shift your weight, wishing he'd be more kind to himself.

“Shou?” you ask softly, hoping it would be enough to get his attention.

“Mm?” is all he says, not looking up. You can't help but let out a sigh.

“I'm ordering lunch. Can I get you anything?”

“I should be fine until dinner. Thank you for the offer, though.”

See--that would be fine if breakfast weren't ten hours ago, and dinner in another five. Aizawa is a morning bird—a creature of habit. Breakfast is waiting for you by eight, and dinner is reheated for him at precisely eleven pm. Shouta scoops you into his chest at twelve next morn, and time repeats itself the day after.

And quite frankly, you don't think it's very healthy. It isn't sustainable.

He can't keep going like this.

If his body doesn't break down, you will.

You can't watch him neglect himself like this—you won't.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Shouta copies your sigh. “Kitten-”

“When?”

“...This morning.”

At least his pen has stopped moving. Perhaps it's your imagination, but he sounds timid—guilty even.

“Uh, huh. My love, could you humor me again and remind me when precisely that was? How many hours ago?”

You can hear his wince as he mutters, “Ten?”

You hum, nodding along to his answer. “And don't you think that's a bit long to go without even a snack? A jelly pouch, maybe?”

Aizawa stretches, rubbing the back of his neck to ease the tension beneath his skin. When he finally looks up at you through his glasses, his ebony tresses are swept loosely into a bun—a practical style meant for convenience rather than fashion.

“The number sounds worse than it is. I'm fine, kitten. Honest.”

You tap nervously against the wooden door frame. “And... How would you feel if it were me who went ten hours without eating?”

The statement flies right over his head; Aizawa narrows his eyes, suddenly concerned. “When was the last time you ate?”

You blink, surprised. "Shouta, this is about you..."

“Please.”

His tone is enough to pause you mid-sentence. Looking him over, you see that his pen is clenched between tight fists, and there’s a new crease in his forehead from furrowed brows.

His protective attitude is a comforting reminder that someone cares for you, and it's hard to criticize the hypocrisy considering how much he looks out for you. But he doesn't practice what he preaches. It's nice to know someone gives a damn whether or not you're looking after yourself, but why can't he show himself the same level of compassion?

“I had some fruit earlier.” You're quick to offer a response, not wanting to worry him needlessly. Lord knows he has enough to worry himself over. “I bought grapes earlier this week--they're pretty sweet; you should try some.”

“Grapes? Are you sure that's enough?” Shouta questions, skeptical.

Heaven’s above.

“Yes, prince. I'm sure, considering I'm about to have lunch. And you, sir, are going to join me.”

His ears flush at the pet name, and the hero finds himself regretting the ‘convenience bun.’

“Kitten, I'm sorry--but I really have to-”

“It would be nice to share a meal with my husband.”

His breath hitched; a blush gradually suffused his cheeks.

“He's always so busy lately, but I miss curling up on the couch with him.”

Aizawa can't take his eyes off you. He looked seconds away from pulling you into him. “I-”

“I miss movie nights; I miss his cute smile--his smell, his laughter...” You giggle, reminiscing—his heart thumps at the sound. “His sense of humor...”

“Where did you want to order from? I'll pay.”

You say the magic word, and suddenly Aizawa is bringing you gifts on his way home. He may not talk much during conversations (he’d much prefer to let you do all the talking so he can hear your voice), but Aizawa listens to all the breathless gushings whenever you're raving at him about an advertisement that caught your eye.

You call him your husband, and he's taking you out to dinner the next second. Suddenly, he's treating you to everything he can think of. Shouta Aizawa isn't fond of outings, but you breathe those perfect words, and the erasure hero asks if you'd like to go out anywhere.

Okay, but I could see Aizawa being super apprehensive about proposals. He isn't romantic in the traditional sense. Gifts aren't teased; they aren't surprises at the end of a trail of roses. Although, they’re more common than those who bought into the scare tactics would believe. His hair would flicker like black fire—a void of tentacles licking the surrounding air (lashing like the tail of a furious cat). The sash of his capture weapon haloed his shoulders like a loaded gun, a rattlesnake coiled to strike (an ominous warning), bluffing he was something bigger and scarier than he was.

Aizawa is a cat through and through—hidden underneath his thunderous demeanor was a sleeping kitten, waiting for someone to come and pet him. Granted, he tended to fluff up and hiss more than he should.

Gifts from Aizawa aren't what most would consider 'gifts.' They pop up like daises in a meadow—randomly but expected. Late morning (Aizawa presumably with his first-period class), coffee greets you in the microwave with his name scrawled in warm cocoa, extra cream, and just a hint of caramel (always a little too sweet).

Can I—can I rant for a second? His gifts are practical. He always knows just what you need. In the summer, it's a nice bowl of ice cream to beat the heat. When it gets cold, he's got extra gloves ready and waiting. And, of course, food is never in short supply when he's around! It seems like every day he's hauling in groceries, essentials like bread, eggs, and milk (plus the sweets he’d try and hide around all the celery and carrots strategically placed in the bag).

“Just in case.” He’d say, answering your concerns.

When you question the hard candies and chocolate cake, he’d shrug. “You never know when you might need it.”

Or, the more familiar, “Low blood sugar.”

“You do not have low blood sugar.”

“How would you know?” He always says, a spoonful of ice cream poised in his hand, ready to pop into your mouth. And then you can’t help but giggle, “I have your medical records, you dolt.” Playful shoves follow, and it just keeps going—endless jokes, teasing, and laughter. When it all dies down, your mouth opens to accept the outstretched spoon, and you’re hit in the tastebuds with a delicious blend of mint chocolate.

Shouta Aizawa had a romantic streak that was undeniable. He scaled buildings to watch the sun bleed on the horizon, and he'd collect fish from the fishmonger, taking it upon himself to feed the unofficially adopted strays in town from his bare hands. In antique shops, he followed in the seniors' footsteps – silently agreeing to buy whatever they pointed to, no questions asked. And if those seniors needed help carrying their bags? Shouta was there, happy to lend a hand. His flair for romance might have been understated, but it was still alive and well nonetheless.

Aizawa, romantic? Absolutely. He just expresses it a little differently. Aizawa's unique brand of romance is one that many don't understand.

Yes, he's all for snuggling and sharing kisses. Yes, he's all too happy to offer you a fresh cup of coffee in the morning (and spend the time silently snuggling until the afternoon), but Shouta isn't known for his spontaneity outside of getting the jump on his foes. His sharp intellect has afforded him many victories, but at the moment, his mind is conspiring his defeat as he can't. stop. thinking. By now, you're aware of his romantic deficiency and have accepted his lack of tact (hopefully).

It should be the gesture itself that counts, right? The indication that you're the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. However, he's heard of proposals being rejected because they weren't grand enough--romantic enough. Present Mic did a whole segment on the topic during his last broadcast, and Shouta had caught it pretty early.

And this bred his newest fear--what if you reject him?

Shouta’s never been the best at conversation; what if he doesn't do the right thing? What if he gets choked up because his uncomfortable suit is suffocating and itchy?

What if you're wearing that outfit, and his tongue gets tangled in knots?

-

"I am a very romantic person. I don't mean romantic in a flowers and chocolates kind of way. It's more like if it's raining, I'll go up to the window and press my nose against the glass and sigh at how beautiful it all looks." (Amy Winehouse, The Irish Times, December 2006)

Shouta: I'm getting married.

You: That's good--

Shouta: You. I'm getting married to you; *slaps a marriage form on the table* sign these papers.

[hopelesslyromanticgay]

An Americano, Please? Part 2

Word Count: 757 A/N: italicized text within quotation marks means that the person speaking is using Romanian instead of English

Y/N's POV:

I haven't seen Jenna for five days, so she was probably just a tourist. It's not uncommon for a tourist to pop by the shop asking for a coffee but not being able to speak Romanian, so I have no idea why I'm so sad that she's not coming back. 

I thought the idea of a "hallway crush," (someone you've interacted with once or twice for a short or professional amount of time, but are attracted to nonetheless), only lasted through high school. I guess I was wrong.

Friday morning, the shop is quiet because of how early it is. I shovel some coffee beans into the grinder. Despite the annoyingly loud noise it makes, I find it an oddly satisfying process.

I yawn, getting out of bed at four thirty for a five AM shift is nobody's idea of a good start to a day.

Once the coffee's all ground up, I put some in the drip coffee brewer and the rest next to the espresso machine.

In the back, I can smell my coworkers taking today's baked goods out of the oven.

"Hey, L/N, want a cinnamon bun? It's a little 'burnt', so we can't sell it," my coworker and friend Nessa asks. Every Friday is the same, Nessa and I are two of the only people around the shop this early, so we'll sneak a pastry and say it was burnt if anyone asks.

"Sure, Thanks!" I reply, taking the warm pastry from her. Taking a bite, a smile creeps across my face, "did you guys change the recipe? This is even better than last week's!"

"Yeah, boss asked if we could add a few more spices to the dough," she explains, "I'm a pretty big fan of the new recipe if I do say so myself."

It's not long before the cafe starts to smell like cinnamon and coffee, a perfectly inviting scent in the gloomy fall weather.

Five twenty and it's time to open up the shop. Of course, no one actually arrives until six, usually. Nevertheless the owner says being open early is best for business.

As I wait for the first customers to arrive, I zone out. There's not much to do except for sitting alone with my thoughts.

I'm so lost in thought that I'm thoroughly shocked when I hear the bell on the door ring, indicating that someone has entered the shop. I look up to see who it is. Then it dawns on me. She's a little paler than last time, but it's still her.

"Jenna?" I ask incredulously, I thought for sure she was gone.

"You remember me?" she raises an eyebrow.

"I remember most people who can't speak Romanian," I lie.

"Sure," she giggles.

"What can I get for ya today?" I ask.

"You know, I think I'll take your joke from the other day seriously," she replies with a faint smirk, "I'll have an Americano with oat milk please."

"Alright, an Americano for the American," I laugh, mixing the drink, "so, what brings you to Romania?"

"Could you please repeat that?" she asks, "sorry, I've been having trouble focusing lately."

"Well, you're clearly not a tourist, because most tourists don't stick around for more than three days. So I'm just wondering, what brings you to Romania?" I repeat.

"Oh, uh, I'm filming a TV show," she explains.

"You act?" I ask. I don't know why I'm surprised. She certainly has the looks and charisma for Hollywood.

"Yeah," she smiles, "this is definitely one of the bigger things I've done though."

"Congrats on that! What are you filming? Are you allowed to tell people?"

"It's a show about the Addams family," she tells me.

"Oh I love that franchise!" I exclaim, "Are you playing one of the family members?"

"Yeah, I'm Wednesday, which is both exciting and nerve wracking." 

Okay, so I'm literally talking to a celebrity. 

"Woah... That- that sounds like an awesome job," I smile, "good for you. So you'll be in the area for a while?"

"What's it to you?" she smirks flirtatiously, "you wanna take me out on a date or something?" I feel a blush start to creep it's way to my cheeks.

"That depends, you gonna be in town for a while?"

"At least six more months."

"In that case, how about I show you around town sometime?"

"I'd like that," she smiles. As much as I would love to keep up this banter, there's too many people in the store now.

I hand her the receipt, my number neatly scribbled down on the blank side, "reach out when you're available," I wink.

She heads out and I watch as she leaves.

On with the day. Only four hours left of this shift.

[catierambles]

"I'll be the first to admit," Syverson said, after the others had left. "I'm an idiot."

"No you're not." She said immediately, but he waved it away.

"Compared to you lot, I'm a damn caveman. I don't get half of what you say. You tell me somethin' is good or somethin' is bad, I'll take your word for it. Got no reason to otherwise. I may not have advanced learnin', but I know a soldier when I see one. Sweetheart, I had you clocked the day we met."

"Was it really that obvious?" She asked, looking down at her hands.

"Only if you know what you're lookin' at." He said and sighed, "I don't know what you've seen. I don't know what you've done or gone through, and I probably wouldn't understand half of it." He watched her carefully, but she wouldn't look at him. "But I know it was too much." That made her look up at him from her seat. "I know it's why you avoid sleepin'. Goin' days a time runnin' on stale coffee and spite. I know it's why when shit hits the fan, you keep your head and start givin' orders like it's old hat for you, keepin' people calm and focused."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Figured you would eventually." He said with a shrug.

"The others, they...they tried to protect me the best they could, to give me some kind of reprieve, but I knew it was only a matter of time before..." She stopped with a sigh, "I liked being normal. I know it was only temporary, that the coeurl would come out the bag eventually but I...I liked being normal. The others, they were afraid that if everyone knew, that I would be..."

"Used." He said and she nodded, "They probably ain't wrong. If the Brass knew about you, they'd throw you at every damn problem they had, consequences be damned. Best just say you're a scientist, or "aetherologist", studyin' the effect of aether on livin' beings. So that's why it don't leave this room. Let'em keep thinkin' you're just a scientist. Beans were spilled by accident, so I know they'll be more careful in the future."

"And if the others find out?" She asked.

"Cross that bridge if we get to it." He said, "I don't know anythin' about this "Champion" business, but I know a solider when I see one, and, babygirl, you're a damn General. So, again, it don't leave this room."

"What happens now?" She asked.

"Now," He paused with a sigh before pushing up from his chair, "Now we get somethin' to eat. I am damn hungry and I know you gotta be too."

"I could eat." She said with a huff of a laugh and stood as he approached her. "Thank you, Seth."

"Anytime, sweetheart." He laid his arm over her shoulders as they left his office, pulling her towards him a little so he could press his lips to the side of her head.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wasted 9

Warnings: drug dealing/use, violence, noncon, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

(Yes I'm procrastinating rn)

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

The other girl in this one is from Black Light

Part of The Club AU

You sit behind the glass and yawn in the deathly din of the transit office. You lazily scroll a finger over your phone. The brief rush has dissipated so now you're free to read old forums about the cult classic show you've been bingeing.

Despite your hours being cut, every shift feels too long. The time is dull as most people buy their passes online or get tickets at a kiosk in the mall. So you work is minimal and the pay even less. Not to mention, your patience.

You lean your chin in your hand and press your finger to your lashes, trying to keep the old mascara from stinging your eyes. The chirp of the sensor has you sitting up and you nearly bite your tongue as you try to greet the customer. Not him!

“Closed,” you lie and reach for the metal gate above, struggling to clasp onto the handle.

“Hours say–”

“Get the fuck out, dude,” you snarl and hop, rolling down the grate and slamming it into place.

You swear as it hits your phone, knocking it through the small slot under the glass partition, locking it out and you in. You lock the bottom, not caring about the burner. Fuck it, you only ever text Snicky.

“Come on, doll,” Bucky stops by your phone, bending to pick it up, “how many of these you lost so far?”

He wiggles the phone at you, am eighty dollar Polaroid piece of shit.

“Leave me alone.”

“Ah, what's happened to customer service these days?” He tuts and comes closer, shoulder broad and rolling. “Look, I'm not here for me, right?” He tucks your phone in his jacket pocket, “my friend, Steve, the string bean, he likes you.”

“I don't fucking know you. Or him. And I don't wanna know you–”

“You don't? Cause I think I got to know you pretty well–”

“Fucking ass–”

“Let's not keep going through this, alright? Now, I've been pretty damn nice. Do you know how much you can learn from a phone? I know you're about thirty-seven dollars in overdraft and your Instagram keeps popping up with pictures of that dumb girl that hangs off you.”

“How, I–”

“Locked me out? You think,” he taps on the glass on the other side of the gate, “what if I made you a deal?”

“I'm not into the hard stuff,” you scoff.

“Didn't seem to mind it,” he winks, “maybe coulda gone for something lighter…”

“What do you want?” You bark.

“Alright, alright, like I said, it's not me,” he smirks, his gaze creeping up and down your figure. “My friend, he's got no luck with the girls. Told me you stood up for him. That's sweet despite… being you.”

“So you wanna be my pimp? Oh, fuck off–”

“A date. That's it.” His hand tightens in his pocket, gripping your phone. “Humour him. He's been moping about you all week.”

“Yeah right, I'm not stupid–”

“You won't see me. Really, I got plans. Saturday's are good for business, not worth the cut.”

Your nostrils flare. You want to be done with it, him, that club, and all the losers who hang out there. You bite down and cross your arms, glaring at him.

“How about… three hundred?” He offers. “Up front.”

He shifts and pulls the phone out of his pocket. He sets it before the slot in the window then reaches into his back pocket. He takes out his wallet and counts several bills.

“He'll pay for dinner. He's the old fashioned type, you know? Just wear something sexy.”

You scowl, furrowing your nose as your mouth dries. You can't believe you're even considering this. Are you that low?

Well, hes offering as much as you get in a week and the last chunk of your rent. So yes, you are.

“Saturday?” You ask crisply.

“Seven,” he slides the money and phone against the bottom of the gate, “I'll send you the time and place.”

“If I even hear your name–”

“Relax,” he backs up, “I got mine. Just take it easy on my pal.” He smirks and uns his thumb along his bottom lip, “he's a virgin.”

“You're nasty.”

“Oh I know I'm just your type but he's better for you,” he chuckles and turns, stalking to the door, “and if you don't show, I'll be back to collect and trust,” he pauses, “I always get what I'm owed.”

The door swings shut and you stare after him. Slowly you look down and unlock the gate. You push it up and reach for the phone and the bills. The skinny one can’t cause you that much trouble, can he?

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of injury, death, human trafficking.

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: It was the final showdown! And you died.

A/N: We begin to wrap everything up :(

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You crawled back toward consciousness with the unsettling sensation of deja vu. Bright lights, pain in your abdomen, the sound of machines incessantly beeping. You tried to pull the covers over your head, but your left arm didn’t seem to want to move.

Well, that was new, anyway.

“The fuck am I in the hospital for now?” you murmured to yourself. “One miscarriage wasn’t bad enough?”

“Ex-fucking-scuse me?” came Tony’s shocked voice from your bedside. “One fucking what now?!”

You slowly opened your eyes. “Uh… hey, Boss. How’s it going?” You glanced over at Tony; he looked terrible, eyes red rimmed and puffy. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve been crying?”

Tony barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? You had us all scared half to death, Kiddo. Pretty sure it took ten years off my life when word came in that Carthage fucking shot you. You know, you were clinically dead for seven whole minutes?! Longest seven minutes of my life– even longer than the Seven Minutes in “Heaven” I spent with Alice Seymour in 7th grade.” Tony shivered.

You blanched. “Seven minutes? Holy shit. I’m sorry, Tony.” You weren’t sure why you were apologizing; you hadn’t shot yourself, after all, but you still felt awful for making him worry.

Tony came to sit alongside you on the bed. “Hey,” he began, taking a hold of your hand, “you have nothing to be sorry for. At all. You warned us from the beginning that Carthage was rotten. We should have done a better job of protecting you from her. I should have done a better job of protecting you.”

“It’s not your fault, Boss,” you told him, squeezing his hand. “None of us could have realized how far gone she was until it was too late. Where is she, anyway? On a one-way trip to The Raft, I hope?”

Tony looked away from you, toward the door of your room. “Not necessary,” he said. “She’s dead.”

You sat up quickly, wincing in pain at the tugging in your abdomen as you did so.

“Easy there, Kiddo,” Tony said, helping you get upright. “You had major abdominal surgery just a few days ago; you’re gonna pull your stitches.”

You let go of Tony’s hand to gingerly prod at your stomach, flinching as you came into contact with the heavy gauze that concealed your incision. Looking back up at him, you asked: “What do you mean, ‘she’s dead,’ Tony? What the fuck happened?”

Tony cleared his throat and poured you a cup of water, as if needing to busy his hands while he considered how to go about saying what he had to tell you. “We pulled up in the Quinjet probably only a few moments after you were shot,” he said, handing the cup to you. You took it gratefully, not realizing until that moment how parched you’d been. “Barnes was holding you in his arms, just sobbing, and… God, Pocket, there was so much blood. We thought you were done. I’ve never– I’ve never seen him like that before. He wouldn’t let go of you. Cap and Point Break had to hold him off so we could get you into the jet’s onboard Cradle; he just didn’t want to be apart from you. Kept screaming it was all his fault, he should be the one who was dead instead of you. Can’t say that, in the moment, I disagreed. We ended up having to sedate him.”

As Tony spoke, bits and flashes of the event came back to you– Bucky offering himself to Jade in exchange for your life, seeing his lips on hers, the sensation of Jade’s bullet ripping through your flesh. 

“Once we got you stable, we went back out and found Carthage’s body. I’m not one hundred percent sure what happened, because Barnes still won’t talk about it, but, well, her neck was snapped.”

You blinked in shock. He’d killed her, for you. When it mattered, when it truly, truly mattered, he’d picked you over her. “Wow,” was all you could get out.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed softly.

“Where is he, Boss?” you asked, looking up at him desperately. You needed to see Bucky right away, needed to thank him for saving your life, to apologize.

“I’ve, uh… I’ve been kind of keeping him away,” Tony admitted reluctantly.

“Why?!” you asked, hurt and shocked. “Why would you do that, Tony?”

Tony looked at you defensively. “Because he admitted what he did to you, Pocket. How he hurt you, again, and again. All of it. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t going to let him come near you after everything he’d done. It was his fault you were in this mess to begin with. He’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill him. If he had stayed away from her, been faithful to you from the beginning–”

“Tony,” you interrupted, putting a hand on his forearm to stop him. “Please trust me when I tell you that the situation is a lot more complicated than it appears from the outside, okay? I’ve… I’ve seen things, things that showed me how badly she manipulated him, got into his head. I’m not saying he’s blameless,” you were quick to add when Tony opened his mouth to protest. “He’s got a lot to make up for– I know that; I’m just saying that the party who bears the most responsibility is dead. I want to see him. Please. I owe him my life.”

Tony pursed his lips as he assessed you, mulling over your words. “It’s against my better judgment,” he finally said, “but it’s your call. I’ll send him in.” He stood up, leaning forward to kiss the crown of your head. 

“Tony, wait!” you said, before he could go too far. “The missing women. The strip club. What happened with them?”

“You did good, Kiddo,” he said with a smile. “Once we got you outta there, we were able to retrace your location to find the Hydra base where they were keeping you and get into their files– they kept records of every woman they sold, who they sold to, and where they went. SHIELD’s already picked up several of the buyers and identified the key players based on what you’ve been able to get us. We’ve been able to recover seven of the women so far, but Nat’s optimistic we can track down even more.”

You let out a shaky exhale. Seven women, saved from trafficking, with your help. “That’s amazing, Boss,” you said.

“And as for the club, Kozlov’s been arrested on a slew of charges; don’t anticipate he’ll be breathing fresh air anytime soon. And your buddy? Dimitri? He was real happy to start cooperating with us if it meant he didn’t go down with his boss.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief, a weight being lifted off your shoulders. They weren't going to be able to hurt anyone else, you thought to yourself. You’d help make sure of that. Maybe you could make your amends to Chloe, after all.

An idea came to you then. “Boss,” you began, “how much money’s in my swear jar now?”

Tony gave you a bemused look. “Kind of a weird time to be asking about that.” He pulled up his phone and touched the screen several times before letting out a low whistle. “Well I’ll be damned, Pocket. You certainly have quite the potty mouth– there’s almost half a mil in there!”

“I’ve sworn half a million times in the last twenty months?” you asked, incredulous.

“Do you doubt it?” Tony answered, grinning.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” you said with a smile. “Do me a favor? Take that money and divide it up among the surviving women, okay? They’re gonna need resources for a fresh start.”

“That’s real generous of you, Kiddo,” Tony said, giving you a fond smile. “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, well, I learned from the best,” you half-shrugged, grinning back at him. “Gotta pay it forward, right?”

Tony nodded, then turned toward the door. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of,” he said. “And I’ll send in Barnes."

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Oh, and if there’s one thing this entire ordeal’s taught me,” he said as he put his hand on the doorknob, “it’s that life is short. I’m gonna ask Pep to marry me.”

“Tony!” you exclaimed, delight coursing through you. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!”

Tony smiled at you. “Be flattered, kiddo. You’re number two to know.” With a wink, he was out the door.

You closed your eyes, smiling to yourself. Tony Fucking Stark was finally settling down. You honestly thought you’d never live to see the day. Fuck, you almost hadn’t. You felt a dull ache in your left arm. It had been strapped down in a sling to  your torso, preventing you from moving it, and you had the sinking suspicion there were probably pins holding the fracture in place. You were certainly in line for a long road to recovery.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[spc-rambles]

I adore the steelworks gang, like more than I've seen other people express online.

First of all...

My little icon Lexi.

They have been known and initially regarded for their silly voices and jolly nature but I don't often see people looking into why they do it. Like their voices make them more wild than Marion who's generally loved by some fans but they also do it in spite of themselves. They and Theo did an entire upbeat song about how much they are failures to railway engineering with lyrics like:

"We're experiments gone bad

in other words whoever designed us must be mad."

These are not the words of someone with self esteem in how funny they are! They even showed them actually depressed when saying 'We can't do anything.' for the final time in the special.

And anyone who knew how long it took for more in-your-face LGBT+ representation in 2018 She-Ra will know that if this special just came out three or four years later, we might've had proper gender-fluid Lexi representation.

As for Theo...

He is still a pure little bean and I feel the ambiguity of his design makes it all the more reason for him to feel bad about his design. I don't know what about his design warranted gigantic cogs on his sides but we don't know what went on in whatever workshop he was built at. For all we know he could've had the Henry treatment, having been dumped on the doorstep on the first desperate railway executive needed an engine, as a last ditch effort for a dying manufacturer.

As for him being on the spectrum, I can still see it in his behaviour. Lexi was truly not gender fluid but once you've met one autistic person, you've met one autistic person.

And some characteristics are visible in him.

His unintentional bluntness. "Are you being scrapped?"

His tics and stutters.

His shakes in excitement, if you were to count it as stimming.

And who's to say he's not limited to physical disabilities? He and Lexi, depending on how successful you can view it having designs as unique as them on British rails, are the perfect ones to have given the body language they were adamant on giving all the engines back then.

Him being so gentle and anxious is generally adorable, so yeah, not so much to say about his actual personality.

Speaking of not much to say, not much to say on Merlin either, at least nothing that people haven't said already. We all know how awesome he is.

Beresford is MY MAN!

Beresford just wants a friend guys. He said in his own song that he was always ignored by engines who just want to get a job done. No time to chat with him. Loneliness can drive him mad. It is kinda sad that his appearance in Royal Engine was not only a sign of the further appearances these characters could've had but how it was also kinda a rehash of the scene we got in his last appearance, so maybe an episode of his own where he learnt to make friends properly would've been fun.

Ah well, at least he got some friends in another life.

And what can I say about Hurricane?

Keeping it real, working with steel.

Since 1902

He is such a chill guy, that while his companion might've had a lot of hard labour in mind for Thomas, he seems so genuine in wanting to take Thomas in while still acknowledging his terrible position. He could've done with standing up to Frankie though. But whatever, that's meant to be a part of his character, and he was voiced by the chad Jim Howick no less.

It's so funny when people say he sounded like a member of the royal family when he's played kings before.

And then there's Frankie.

Oh my god I adore her so much. Her manipulation being legitimately intimidating at the best times, especially when she's actually chasing Thomas down in the dead of night, her musical style bribing him into working for her, her VA's performance capturing all of her personality through line delivery perfectly.

Everything about her class, her demeanour, most of her lines makes me so curious about her whole life.

How is she running this steelworks better than the human manager of the works if there even is one? How are the human workmen so ok with her doing this? How did the other engines before Thomas get into doing her work? How did they get out? How did Hurricane stay with her for this long, let alone not encourage some potential friends of his to work with her? Was she indirectly responsible for Hurricane surviving as long as he did to still be a tank engine after she was built? Why didn't the railways surrounding this fictional steelworks not agree with this most likely non-existent human manager not just agree to get a lot of their engines to transport steel from their works? What did Frankie do? What are you hiding from us!?

The whole mystery surrounding her and her apparently feeling put-down and apparently not evil at heart according to her character profile and her role in the book 'Delivery at the Docks' makes her potential crimes such a goldmine for story potential that I really want to delve into very soon.

And yeah, that's what I have to say on them in canon. All beautiful characters that I feel need more recognition on a regular basis.

[deadn30n]

happy early 2024 !

posted a bit early as i'll be going to bed relatively soon, but i wanted to say something to usher in the new year!

as some of you know, i've been in the RPC for a very long time, but took a well needed hiatus a year or so back. i only recently returned mid-November && have not regretted that decision for a second. ♥ it's only been a month and a half, but it's been the best month and a half i've ever spent on this site. i admit i was nervous to return for a variety of reason ( mostly avoiding some rather negative people i originally split from this site to escape from ) but i've come to find that this space space i've built has fostered so much positivity for me, and i'm very grateful for that. i'm grateful for all the new friends i've made, all the connections i've forged, the writing i've done, and the plots i've gotten to explore! && as the new year approaches, i'm walking it into with quite a few new aspirations and hopes. i'm really, really thankful to everyone who's given me the time and chance to reach out and make a connection. to the people who've talked to me and told me they're excited for the release of my book, for my return to the vtubing community, for the times we play games together and just goof off.

i hope you know how much you all mean to me. i wish i could tag EVERYONE in this post but tumblr would kick my ass, but just know that i'm truly and honestly grateful and honored to have met the people that i have and look forward to talking more with all of you and getting to know you better. there are a few people i want to single out to shower with love who've supported me or have even known me from the LAST TIME i was on the site lmao

@goldenfists : you should already know you'd be the first on my list Joo Joo Bean. my beloved. we've known each other for what... 3 years now? roughly that, give or take, but you have no idea how much you really mean to me. from the moment we met i knew you were someone i wanted to keep in my circle. i adored you and still do; you've seen the changes i've gone through, the growth i've made, and supported every positive decision i've made. even when i finally built my first oc, and your first incentive was to foster a relationship between sett and eden and letting me know that you LOVED my creatives when i was so scared to take that first dive into making an oc. i love you so much dude. ;_; i'll never forget how you teased me on stream about my pronunciation of your name but then insisted i kept pronouncing it like that because you thought it was cute. i wish you knew just how much you mean to me, because words aren't enough to justify my feelings toward you. i love you Joo Joo Bean, i love you to the moon and back, and i can't wait to see what 2024 has in store for you and i, and our little blorbos @empyreous : ELLE!!!11 ELLE!!!!1 MY BELOVED PARTNER IN CRIME ON LEAGUE!!!! we haven't known each other for very long but god have i LOVED writing with you and goofing off in my favourite games. you've given me a brand new love for league and you're so fucking talented with your ocs and your writing that i'm just chomping at the bit for us to keep going. i literally can't wait to see what we end up developing for these silly little dudes and it makes me so very happy to have you in my corner. i wish you only the best in the world and i'm certain 2024 will give us so many more funny memories to cherish. save me eboi.... eboi save me....

@seeksmoon / @seekslight : softie you loveable little shit. you boyfriend stealing monster ( affectionate ). actually, if i was gonna share my boyfriend with anyone, it'd gladly be you. BUT JOKES ASIDE i'm really delighted we met and hit it off as well as we did. the way you write both alune and lux have me going GRRRRR BARK BARK BARK and i adore the dynamics we've started to built between yonealune and ezlux. we haven't had nearly enough time to hang out yet and that's a fucking CRIME if you ask me. i'm sure come 2024 though we'll have plenty of time to be a couple of goobers and mess around in league here on tumblr. you're such a sweetheart and even my bf talks so positively of you, and anyone that can make him happy makes ME happy. i hope you know you won't get rid of him and i so easily ♥ we enjoy hanging out with you, and we hope you do too :>

@ayahimes : astrid u ain't getting away from me i'm rapidly approaching ur location at mach 10. LFKDJASLKJDF i'm teasing i'm teasing but MAN i've had so much fun playing weague of wegends with you ( and looking forward to when we start playing ffxiv too ) but you're such a sweetheart man. a good energy, positive presence that i love being around ;v; i hope we'll get to play more in the future and chat more and get to know each other!! ♥♥♥

@mellodiies : misha all i'm gonna say is this year... you will be boiled.... ( this ask forever lives rent free in my head and i'm never going to stop laughing at this i hope you know ) ok but in all seriousness i'm so glad i worked up the courage to follow your blog because it's been a bucket of laughs and also seeing one of my childhood faves being doted over so lovingly just makes me so!!!!!!!!!!! i hope this year we'll be able to write ( and even if we don't i'm also content just observing your shenanigans bc they always brighten my day ). thank you for filling my dash with the little pep in my day that i need, you're a fucking goober and i adore you for it

@vulpesse : hi bunnie!! we never really got much of a chance to chat before ( we did get to write a bit in the past though, which i enjoyed! ) but i want you to know that you are one of my biggest inspirations on this site and i was so goddamn happy when i found you again that i hit the follow button so fast i think i broke my finger LMAO but seriously.... you're great. you have such a wonderful energy about you and you're so unbelievably talented with an indomitable spirit. i love seeing your posts every day, and i'm glad to share this same space as you! ♥ please never change, you truly are such a bright light in an otherwise murky world

@heartate : plum u know i couldn't forget about my favourite edgy thot. i fuckin love u dude. it's crazy to think we've known each other for like what? 10 years? like christ. and even though those first few years weren't filled with the happiest of memories, it's been my honor to be able to make amends with you. i always appreciated you for approaching me with that heartfelt apology. i never resented you, and even less so now that i knew the kind of awful situation you were put through back then. you didn't deserve the pain and abuse you went through, and i'm glad you're finally able to break free and grow. flourish and fill the world with your light, because you're a good person and i firmly stick by that notion. no matter what happened between us in the past, you've grown and i've adored watching it. i only hope you'll be able to continue to grow and enjoy the newfound freedom you have, and i am glad to be able to be by your side through it ♥ i'll always have your back miss rina, you can count on that :>

&& to some other lovelies who've made my time pleasant here; @lightshielded / @yoakkemae / @chiheru / @fairesky / @darkflyers / @attroxx / @mythcaels / @knifvd / @killerhubby / @erabundus / @mundmutter / @goddessrisen / @inhumann / @penddraig / @hiisfire / @raytm / @elicertis / @liightbringr / @un1awful / @vonerde / @gunrising / @cyneris / @trattcria / @cmdrace / @lovehungered / @trattcria / @pearlcure / @dnangelic / @starsenna / @nulltune / @toxichem / @longerhuman / @volonata / @misreputed / @ferinehuntress / @florspinae / @inufangs / @bishonenprince

&& to all of my lovely followers too! ♥ may your new year be filled with all the joy and love you deserve. may the new year treat you kindly and give you solace when you need it most. may the new year bless you with every bit of happiness you deserve c:

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Twelve.

Ahhh, it's the chapter you've been waiting for, besties. Enjoy! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 5,204

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

Ella felt about as fresh as a crumpled piece of paper upon waking many hours later, but not because her slumber hadn’t been pleasant. It very much had, although leaving her makeup on was a regrettable decision.  

Stretching, she turned to find the space next to her empty, able to hear the shower running in the next room. The man who’d been in it arrived wrapped in a black towel after a few minutes, his towel dried hair hanging damp. Hoo, what a sight. Nearly naked and wet James. 

“Alright, little,” he chirped, smiling. “Sleep well?”  

“I did, but I feel crispy,” she began, evoking his snort of laughter. “Think I could do with going where you’ve just come from.” 

“Yeah, no worries. There’s clean towels in the corner cupboard.” 

She gasped comically. “Clean towels, in a man house?” 

“Oi, less of that! We’re semi-domesticated. Only cos’ the building actually has a laundry room downstairs. If we had to leave the flat and go to a laundrette then yeah, we’d be a bit more dirtbag than we are,” he chuckled, Ella climbing from the bed and receiving a kiss.  

“Can I borrow your toothbrush, please?”  

“Yeah, it’s the green one.” 

“Cool beans. Oh, are the others up yet? If they are then I’ll need to take clothes with me. You seeing me in my pants is one thing, but anyone else I’m like, not so confident about.” 

She was too cute, James hugging her and dropping a kiss to her head. “Nah, babe. You’re fine. Snedders is passed out and I don’t even think Steve made it home. Bedroom door was wide open and he weren’t in there.”  

Things had gone well with Hester, then.  

Leaving him in the bedroom battling with the knots in his hairdryer cord, she padded barefoot past a sleeping Snedders, letting herself into the bathroom. Oh, what a typical man abode. It wasn’t massively grubby, but it really could have done with a good clean.  

Switching the shower on, she used the toilet while waiting for the water to run hot, grabbing herself a towel before undressing. Her hair was still fresh from being washed the day before, Ella finding a hair elastic, picking out the bits of James’s dark strands from it and tying all of hers up, save it getting wet.  

Looking down at the dark wood floorboards, she felt a cold wave wash over her suddenly. This was where it had happened, where Steve had found him hovering between life and death. The damage of the door being kicked in was still evident, the doorframe splintered in places, the paint cracked around where it had been successfully rehung once more.  

She didn’t know why, but she crouched, her fingers running over the grain in the floorboards. If he’d succeeded... She couldn’t think about that for a second. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she climbed into the bathtub and closed the curtain, happy to let the water hit her skin.  

Once out and dry, she untied her hair and brushed her teeth, picked up her pants and top and opened the door a fraction, checking that Snedders was still sleeping. He was. Rushing through the flat just in case, she entered James’s bedroom, finding him sitting on the bed, hair now dried, still in a towel. The way he looked at her, wow. It made something very pleasant roll through her tummy.  

“Hot bird in a small towel. Bloody hell,” he spoke, Ella feeling her cheeks tingle a little. There they were, their nakedness only covered by towels, staring at one another with unmistakable intent. That look... those eyes... that body... him. Just him. It was without fear or thought that she let her towel fall, his eyebrows arching, Ella walking over to straddle his legs. He had always been bigger than her fear, and now her need for him eclipsed it. God, she wanted him. 

“Fucking... hell.” he breathed, kissing her between her breasts. His arms encircled her, looking up at her with lust blown pupils, black bleeding into grey as he swallowed hard. How he’d coveted this very moment for so long, felt himself break apart inside for it, been driven to distraction by the need to be with her. “That’s even more beautiful than I imagined, you naked.” 

“How long have you been imagining it for?” 

He moved his mouth, sucking her nipple, feeling her tense and then relax against him. “Too fucking long, darlin’.” Their mouths met, James lying back and taking her with him, their kisses softly smouldering with sugared embers. No orderly eyes, no need for sneakiness, nothing at all to stop her from trailing his chest with her nails, one hand reaching to untuck his towel.  

Giving him a smouldering look, she licked her palm wet, biting her lower lip. “Finally, it’s your turn.” Her mouth returned to his, hand curling around his cock, very happy with what she felt. Jesus, it was thick. She felt her walls beginning to slick and sting with want to feel it within her, her mouth descending to his neck, scattering kisses over his leanly defined bulk.  

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunted when her teeth closed upon his nipple. “Harder.” She obliged, and it sent him into stratosphere. “Fuck yeah. I really get off on a bit of pain.” 

“Yeah?” she spoke, grazing her nails down his chest. Oh, the sound that action pulled from him. It made her pulse flutter madly as her mouth descended, shuffling back between his long legs. Her hand tightened, his abs tensing when she brought her mouth to him, tongue flicking idly over the tip of his cock, the tease she used rapidly turning his brain to static.  

“Do fucking not blow your load in ten seconds, man. Fucks sake. Do not.” The staunch words he had with himself internally were made very difficult to adhere to as Ella let her mouth sheathe him completely, James closing his eyes as his head thudded back on the bed. It had been much too long for him, since he was last with a woman. Since his release he’d received plenty of offers, but had turned them all down.  

In his mind, it was only her.  

The swirl of her tongue from the base to tip of his shaft had his thighs setting tense, his hands becoming lost in her pale blonde waves. His groans arrowed right to her cunt, Ella longing for him, her need spiralling strongly, the tips of her nails grazing down over his chest again, leaving bright raspberry marks in their wake.  

She’d always been very sexually confident, but of course had felt nerves at being with him intimately for the first time. Every groan, muscle twitch and shuddered breath her touch evoked made those feelings further melt away, even though she still fought the urge to stop, grab her top and hide herself within it.  

Her moment of bravery had passed, her new body still something she was getting used to, but oh, how she felt bolstered further when he pulled her up into a kiss, turning her onto her back and pinning her there as his hands began to roam. No bones rose to meet his fingers as they explored her flesh, the addition of much vitally needed weight giving her slender, soft curves. Truly, she was still very slim, but at least he no longer feared he might break her.  

His mouth followed the path his hands took, paying attention to how she reacted, repeated touches that made her shudder, his tongue wetting a long lick beneath her hipbone as his thumb moved to her slit. It rubbed through the dewy petals of her, settling on her clit, his tongue soon to take over in a long, firm swipe that had her hips titling up. Pausing, he took a good look at her spread before him, lips curving into a wide smile.  

“Fuck, that’s such a pretty little cunt, innit?” 

“I like to think so,” she chirped, her confidence given further growth by his approving words. 

“Mm,” he grunted, tickling her clit with the tip of his tongue. “I’m gonna have a really good time, wrapping my mouth around it.” When he did, taking a greedy suck upon her, her back immediately arched, her moan celestially soft. It arrowed right to his depths, his arousal doubling as he buried his mouth against her hungrily. Ohhh, that sound, the sweet exclamation of a woman in rapture. How he’d missed it. 

As for Ella, she lay there smouldering pleasantly as his tongue went to work on her, running through her folds, circling firm over her clit, her hands soon weaving into the silky dark of his hair and tugging. The groan it prompted, oh. He liked that. Stroking her thighs as he ate her fervently, his tongue chased sensations that fizzed up her spine like a cascade of tiny bubbles, her mouth dropped open, crying out at every firm, well placed lick. 

To be with a man who actually knew what he was doing. It had been a while. 

What his mouth evoked drew all manner of noises from her, her sweet little gasps of pleasure making his arousal rage as he felt her clit hardening against his tongue, circling it slowly as he opened his eyes to watch her writhe on the bed. 

“You enjoying that, babe?” he asked in tease, laughing when her head shot up to give him a frown of incredulity. Of course, she was. 

“As if you have to bleedin’ ask!” 

He shrugged, lips wrapping her clit in pillowy heat, sucking so hard, her entire body shuddered in spasm. “Can’t say I don’t like having my ego fed a bit, innit.” Pulling the chunky rings off his right hand (the devil head one especially would rip her to pieces going anywhere near her soft pink) he pushed two fingers into the sodden grasp of her core, rumbling a groan as he turned to bite her inner thigh hard. “Fuck, darlin’. Absolutely dripping.”  

Her pleasure crackled like a live current as his fingers hooked and raked firmly at her, mouth reconnecting with her velvet wetness. Sucking on her until his cheeks hollowed, moaning low and predatory as her hands yanked hard in his hair, he felt himself lost to her entirely. Ella welcomed it, for him to map pleasure over her completely unchartered. 

Her bud was once again bathed in the wet heat of incessant, quickly licked circles, his fingers gliding in and out of her with ease, getting her so wet that her dew trickled down the back of his hand. That in itself had his cock twitching wildly, dying to be within her but also knowing he was in no rush to move his mouth. 

When James Kingston went down on you, he did not surface quickly. 

His mouth worked at her without pause, greedily consuming her as she shook against him, feeling herself begin to come undone. It was a sensation like no other, his fingers driving into her hard as his tongue flicked against her clit with a fast, unyielding beat, sparks glimmering as she went rigid and came suddenly with a series of little cries.  

There was a sudden exclamation of ‘for fucks sake!’ that came from the lounge, a stomp of feet preceding the playing of the same album they’d listened to the previous night, only at much greater volume. Ahh. Snedders was up, then. 

“I think your wailing woke the flea circus,” James snickered, mouth gentling on her, turning his head to kiss a path up her inner thigh. 

“Ooops,” she snorted, laughing.  

“He can deal with it. I ain’t gonna be done for a while.”  

Words she was extremely fond of hearing. The abyss of pleasure he’d chased her into with his mouth was still ebbing away, James continuing to let her cool down as his fingers exited the slippery clasp of her. He rolled his tongue softly over her clit a few times, Ella jolting from oversensitivity a little until it only felt blissful once more, feeling him keenly push it inside her. 

Her slick muscles flexed as he tasted her sweet little hole, groaning deeply as his big hands gripped her waist. She lay back in an almost celestial blaze, nails grazing his scalp, her pleasure welling up again strongly. The coil within her tightened as the lightning struck once more, this time all prompted by the slow circling of his tongue around her clit, nothing more, but fuck, how he made her ache for his cock. 

Yet still, he did not stop. The sharp pain of her arousal, tingling all through her core persisted as he sucked at her, his hands stroking her lower back as her body arched, absolutely lost to the sensations he gave. 

She fell apart again, shattered into pieces against his relentless mouth. This time, though, he emerged, kissing his way back up her body until his tongue danced with hers. 

“Have you got any...” she began, James shuffling across the bed and moving her with him, hand reaching to open the bedside drawer and grasp around, pulling out a handful of condoms.  

“Yep, plenty.” Dropping all but one on the table, he pulled it from its wrapper and rolled it on quickly, knocking her legs apart further with his elbows as he lowered to kiss her with smouldering heat. He didn’t even need to guide himself to her, a simple shift of her hips facilitating the push within to be complete, joined at last, staring at one another as he stroked her face, his heart pounding in her perfect rhythm with hers. 

They kissed again as he bottomed out, her soft, sweet moan meeting a groan so barbarous and deep, James resting his weight on his elbows as he felt her nails glide sumptuously over his neck. His cock was so thick and heavy within her, dragging her walls, Ella wrapping her legs around his waist and feeling him sink within her fully again. Fuck, he felt better than anything. 

He filled her completely, her cunt at complete capacity. She was overcome by the moment, as was he for a brief pause, staring at one another, finally joined, James leaning to kiss her softly. The feeling of his heart thundering against her breast only added to it, that shared elation over what they had waited on for months. Oh, how she’d craved to be pinned beneath him, stretched around his cock, adrift in a realm of pleasure far from anything she had ever felt before. 

“Fuck, babe. If I only last about a minute, I’m sorry. Been a while, like,” he told her through an overly aroused groan, Ella laughing softly as she stroked his face and kissed him again, biting his lower lip when he suddenly thrust into her a little more voraciously. 

“Better give me a damned good sixty seconds then, church burner.” 

Her quip was met by a soft growl, James biting her jaw softly. “Cheeky twat.” 

She was about to retort, but the way he began to sink his cock into the dewy plush of her, ohhh. Ohhh, he was so good. “Mmmm, you make my pussy all tingly,” she purred, fingers gliding through the soft midnight of his hair. 

Nibbling her jaw, he rutted her a little deeper, a gasp spilling from her mouth. “I should fucking think so, innit, with how long I just spent licking it.” 

Her soft little cries filled his ears, completely drowning in him, her body moving against his in perfect sync as he began to pound her hard, the heat between them sparking wildly as he drove into her with wanton force. God, he was amazing. 

The moans began to pour from both of their mouths, silencing each other with feverish kisses as the euphoric rush grew more intensely with every thrust. He hit her at every angle, every depth, his mouth at her neck as his hands cupped her breasts, Ella absolutely floored by how deliciously incredible a lover he was. 

Perspiration began to bead their skin, James pounding her with merciless delivery before suddenly sitting up and pulling her against him, grasping her bum and bouncing her on his cock as they groaned and kissed. Jesus, it was even better than he’d imagined it would be with her. He felt himself becoming lost to it, to her, staring into the pale blue of her eyes, telling her the words she would never tire of hearing. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Ella.” 

Squeezing her legs around him, the tip of his cock hitting her deeply again and again, she wrapped her arms around his neck, staring into his beautiful, stormy grey eyes, her heart fluttering wildly. No other man had made her feel such erotic intensity before. Maybe it was seven weeks without him, maybe it was just them together, she didn’t know. She wouldn’t question the endless pleasure that skittered over her nerves, though. Only enjoy it.  

For them both, it was the first time in many months that they had felt so alive, so blooming and burning with the hum of sexual energy. It was the ultimate expression of the freedom they could now enjoy together, his arms tightening around her, a bonfire of pleasure roaring through him and catching at her edges as he laid kisses and bites over her throat.  

Her nails dug into his back and tore down as she began grinding down on him hard, their culmination surging, rushing, like a wave about to crash against a cliff, everything fervid and urgent until…bliss. Supreme bliss as she came just before him, white hot fury pulsing through her, both spent and panting in the aftermath. 

She clung to his sweaty body, fighting for breath, her forehead rested to his shoulder as he stroked her hair, still gently gliding up and down on his twitching cock before enjoying stillness, the stretch of his thickness blissful within her post-orgasmic walls 

“Shitting hell,” he panted, grinning widely, kissing her. “Wow.” 

“Innit, to use one of your expressions,” she panted, his rumbling laughter filing the space as she climbed off him and flopped onto her back, him joining her after disposing of the condom. “I could happily fall asleep again right now.” 

His eyebrow arched. “You bloody well better not, Ells bells. I have plans for you, and none of them involve you being asleep.” 

“If you put it like that,” she grinned, turning onto her side, falling into endless, heated kisses. While their morning was going amazingly, for someone else, with his hangover fully kicked in, it wasn’t quite so great. 

“Oi, Sneds,” Steve spoke, coming back into the flat at just gone midday. “Fucking turn that down or the knob upstairs will be banging on the floor again.” 

Snedders reached for the remote. “Alright, but trust me. It’s the lesser of two evils.” Turning it down, the sound of Ella crying out loudly was no longer masked, Steve beginning to chuckle filthily. 

“Ahh, he’s a lad,” he spoke, with obvious affection for the root cause of her noises, walking over to the wall that bordered James’s bedroom, beating his fist off of it a few times. “Go on, my son! Give it some!” he laughed. Those chuckles only ascended further when he heard James laughing filthily from the other side of the wall.  

Snedders as less than amused. “Aw mate, don’t fucking encourage him! Two hours off and on, them two have been going at it! I just want to sit here and enjoy my hangover in peace, but no. James will fucking insist on his usual brand of high-octane shagging. Twat.” 

“Ya just jealous because you ain’t getting your dick wet right now,” Steve snorted, moving to the kettle to make himself a coffee. Christ, he needed it. A can of Redbull was also grabbed from the fridge, drained rapidly in a few gulps. 

“So, you had a good night then after you left, yeah?” 

Steve grinned widely. “Hester is a hell of a woman, my friend.” 

“Yeah? So, them tits. They weren’t real, were they? Looked a bit too, I dunno, rounded at the top to be real.” 

“Nah,” Steve confirmed, spooning coffee into a mug, pointing to a second. “Tea?” 

“Yeah, nice one,” he confirmed. “So, do they still feel like real tits?” 

“Ish,” he spoke with a so-so hand gesture. “They’re heavier than real tits, bit firmer, too. Still felt fucking awesome to stick my cock between, like.”  

That statement roused a dirty chuckle of approval. “You seeing her again?” 

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, likely. Hester is fucking sound, man. Not in the market for getting attached, told me that right off the bat. Not like that girl a few weeks ago. Nah, fucking hell.” He cringed then, thinking of Hayley, who had considered them an official item despite his mentioning multiple times that he wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Despite his resolution, he had felt bad for her. Steve never relished in hurting anyone’s feelings. He was a good guy, just not one who wanted to be tied down to one woman at twenty-two years old.  

That was where he and James vastly differed, the man himself finally making an appearance in the lounge after a further hour.  

“Wheeeey, ya massive tart!” Steve called, pointing at him from the sofa, a huge grin fixed in place. “Can you still feel the end of your dick, or have you gone numb yet?” 

James clicked the kettle on, patting his crotch through his jeans. “Still there for now.” 

“And how’s the lovely Ella?” 

He couldn’t stop the snort laugh. “Knackered. Left the poor girl to kip for a bit.” After making a tea, he moved to sit in the armchair, Snedders spluttering a laugh as he pointed to him. 

“Turn around and move your hair, mate,” he requested, James doing as asked. “What the fuck, man? Your back! Looks like she’s drawn a road map of Great Britain on it with her nails!” 

“Yeah, boy!” Steve guffawed, “Kingston got brutalised!” 

“Fucking didn’t half,” James winked, sitting down and taking a sip of very strong tea, reaching to grab his cigarettes from the table. “I’m top grade shagged out. I think we went through every fucking position known to man, and a few that aren’t.” 

Steve beamed, a massive grin not unlike that of a shark. “Bet you’re still getting back in there once she’s woken up though, right?” 

His friend laughed filthily. “Oh fuck, yeah.”  

Just then, a piercing scream emanated from his bedroom, a few more following it. 

Snedders pointed his mug in the direction of the door. “Sounds like she’s started again without you.”  

That door then flew open, revealing Ella dressed in one of his t shirts that almost buried her, hopping from one foot to the other as she waved a pointed finger in the direction of the room she’d just vacated at speed. “Bleedin’ hell! There’s a fucking spider the size of a saucer on your bed!” 

Ahh, she’d escaped. “Didn’t you notice the viv in the corner, babe?” 

“The what?” she spluttered, still dancing around. “Do not tell me you keep that thing as a pet!” 

“Yeah. Hold on, you’ve probably terrified her.” Walking over to her, he grasped her shoulders, kissing her head. “You okay? You look a bit pale, innit.” 

“She crawled on my leg!”  

He noticed she was without her jeans, and while decently covered by the t shirt, perhaps wouldn’t be too comfortable with that by the time she’d calmed down. “Want me to fetch your jeans?”  

“Please!”  

He firstly went to retrieve that item of clothing, passing them through the door, Ella ducking behind the kitchen units to pull them on. He then emerged a few seconds later, with the giant, black spider sitting contentedly on his shoulder. “She was in a pillowcase, hiding. This is Hel, she’s a goliath bird eater.”  

“I’m going over here,” she spoke, moving to the armchair and seating herself, hugging her knees to her chest, her face a picture of freaked out. 

“I didn’t like her either when he first got her, but she’s actually really chilled out. Can’t let her climb all over me like he does, though. Nah,” Steve spoke, watching as James held his arm out straight, the spider beginning to scuttle down towards his hand.  

“Oi, don’t you try and jump, you’ll break a leg,” James spoke, clicking his fingers and whistling. “Come on, back on the shoulder.” Tapping it, she began to move back, nestling herself beneath his hair for a moment before moving to his chest. 

“What the fuck, she understands you?” 

“Whistles, yeah. Not words, though. She gets it that if I tap, that’s where I want her to be. Follows the vibrations, innit. And she’ll come to a whistle because I started doing it before I fed her,” he explained, scratching her with his finger. “I’ll go put her back before you freak out completely, unless you wanna hold her?” 

Ella’s face coupled by the noise of dread had Steve and Snedders laughing. “No. Not cool beans! I want no part of being near a spider that big unless she’s behind glass.” 

“Shame,” he spoke, lifting her from his chest. “She’s just like a puppy. Wants to be held and fussed. Don’t worry, I’ll padlock the door again. Must’ve forgot to put it on yesterday afternoon before I left, hence the escape, like.” 

“Bye, bye, presider of the underworld,” Snedders called. Her name was apt if nothing else.  

James gently grasped one of her front legs, waving it. “See ya, fleabag.” 

He then turned to Ella with a small shudder. “She freaks me the fuck out, too.” 

“Says the man who’s scared of chickens,” Steve snorted, offering Ella a cigarette she took with thanks, throwing one at James when he arrived back, lifting Ella to sit on the armchair and place her upon his lap. “Did James ever tell you about the time he got chased by about sixty hens?”  

“No!” she cried. 

“Aw, fuck off, man,” Snedders began, pulling his dreadlocks in front of his face. “She don’t need to hear my shame.”  

“Sorry, Snedders. Think I do,” she spoke, her seat a little unstable as Jame shook with laughter beneath her.  

“Right, so this was about seven years ago, and his mum gives him some cash to go out and buy a chicken for Sunday dinner. Him? He decides to come meet us down the pub instead,” Steve began. 

“At The Crown by any chance?” she quickly asked. “It’s the only place for miles around you can get served at sixteen if you look vaguely old enough.” 

“Yep!” he confirmed, pointing at her. “So yeah, he decides he’s got time. One pint turns into two, two into three. You know the rest. Anyway, shops all shut, he’s in for a right fucking ear full of screaming from his mum, so he gets the bright idea to walk to the chicken farm about a mile from the pub, pinch one, kill it, pluck it and take it home.” 

Ella threw her head back, laughing hard already. “And like, the lack of plastic tray and wrapper, plus the fact it’d need its guts yanking out, your mum wouldn’t have been suss about that?” 

“Ella, honey, you’re crediting ole’ Sneds here with being able to ever think more than one move ahead,” Steve spoke, shaking his head, dodging a fist aimed for his thigh by the drummer.  

“I would have got to the oven first!” he announced, sipping his tea with a frown. 

“Okay, so yeah, we all go up there with him because nah, you wouldn’t miss that. And they’re all free range up there, so it could have been done, just ducking under the fence and grabbing one. So, he does, and, he actually gets one. But it’s feisty, and it pecks him and lets out this noise that ain’t like any other chicken noise ever. Think death honk.” 

Oh, how she howl laughed at death honk, James falling apart too as he remembered the noise. 

“Anyway, he’s dropped it and it and it starts pecking its boots, still death honking, which was when half the fucking field came on full chicken charge, so we figured it was probably a distress call. Nah, I ain’t ever seen colour drain from someone’s face so quick in my life! He ran, dived over the fence, got stuck halfway on the barbed wire and ended up shirtless and chickenless. It was quality!”  

Imagining it in her mind, she continued to laugh, feeling a slither of guilt that it came at Snedders expense, until he finally cracked and began rumbling a chuckle at the memory of his sixteen-year-old self's strife.  

“Right, if you lot are done taking the piss, I’m making food,” he announced, heaving himself up off the sofa. “Got potatoes, yeah?” 

“Yeah, mate,” Steve confirmed, turning his attention back to Ella. “Your friend, sweetheart. I gotta fucking say it. Bloody hell. She’s... yeah. Got piercings where I wasn’t expecting ‘em!” 

Ella crinkled her nose, shaking her head. “And with that, I do not need to hear anything else about the fact Hester pierced her flaps. I was there when she had them done. She nearly broke my bleedin’ hand!” 

“You can tell me all about it later though, yeah?” James spoke with a wink, expecting the slap Ella aimed for his chest as he guffawed at the look on her face. They sat there talking for around half an hour before the chef du jour called them over, Steve loitering while he went to change the music for something else. 

Snedders picked up the first bowl, turning to Ella. “Here ya go.” Proffering it forth, he draped a tea towel over his arm in true waiter fashion. “Mashed potatoes ala Snedders pour mademoiselle.” 

Taking a deep breath, she loaded up her fork and took a mouthful, trying to push the fear down. Potatoes were still scary, but she’d managed pizza the night before, and it was only a small portion, after all. “Oh my god! Those are bleedin’ amazing!” she spoke, her eyes widening. “What do you put in them?” 

“Don’t ask him that, Ella. He won’t tell nobody,” Steve spoke, flicking through his vinyl collection. 

Snedders lifted his chin, a smile curling beneath his bushy beard. “A man has to have his secrets.” 

“I’ll give you credit, mate. You’ve got way better at this over the years. I remember when you tried making this back when you lived at home, got stoned, fell asleep and burned the potatoes to the saucepan. Fucking liability, innit?” James chuckled, taking his bowl and digging the fork in. 

A few more stories about the walking disaster that was Snedders were revealed as they ate, Ella sharing a few of her own at her sister’s expense, like running away from the pet goat their aunt kept on several occasions.  

All the while, James sat there happily, just listening for the most part. And, as his friends both noticed, looking happier than he had in a very long time.  

[oboetemasuka]

Order of Attack, Part 15

"YONAH"

(Or, if you have a better one-word title that fits the themes, I'll take it before I put this on AO3.)

After this, there's one chapter left before the main fic concludes. Side stories (and incessant bothering of Beans) shall continue.

Special thanks to @seariii for the feedback!

-

The moment Es opened Kotoko's cell door, she began speaking. "Greetings, Es. You kept me waiting." She didn't bother waiting as Es took a seat. "While you were gone, I carried out your judgment. Since this was only the first trial, though, I didn't go all-out-" She stopped when she noticed Es's expression. "Why are you so-"

"What have you done!?"

"Oh, my apologies. I wasn't able to cause enough pain to Kayano Mikoto and Shiina Mahiru."

"You… you…" You caused enough pain to them, alright! Mahiru lives in constant paranoia, wondering when it's her turn and believing it should be. Mikoto is suffering in isolation because he unknowingly interfered-

"Es? Are you okay? You're hardly coherent."

Es realized they had been hissing and growling instead of venting their thoughts. Fine by them. They didn't need to give Kotoko any more ammunition against the other prisoners.

While they were catching their breath, Kotoko continued.

"I decided to attack in numerical order. I was able to deal plenty of damage to Kajiyama Fuuta. Then Momose Amane showed up unexpectedly, saving me a trip. Kayano Mikoto interfered before I could finish, however, and I was unable to get enough hits in before Mukuhara Kazui broke up our fight, and when I went to Shiina Mahiru's cell-"

"Kotoko!" Es stood up, making Kotoko flinch. "You didn't go 'all-out'? You almost killed them. If everyone hadn't interfered when they did, Fuuta and Amane could have died!"

"Is that cause for concern?" Kotoko asked, concealing all traces of having been rattled. "You told me yourself that it's okay to kill scum that are murderers."

"Scum!?" Es slammed the table. "You're calling them- Wait, when did I ever say that?"

"Ever since you finalized my verdict, I could hear your voice loud and clear. 'That man was the trash of society. He got what was coming for him.' Honestly, I didn't mean to go that far, but-"

Es figured there was no arguing about the voices. The voices were a near-universal experience. Still…

"Did you ever consider what Fuuta and Amane had done?"

"What does it matter? You said they were unforgivable, so it wouldn't have mattered if-"

"You would have killed a child."

"So what? Children can be just as dangerous as adults. She's in this prison for murder, Es. You didn't let her off the hook, so why should I?"

I didn't know who her victim was last trial. I made my judgment on a mistaken assumption… They had to redirect their thoughts quickly. It wasn't their place to tell Amane's situation to Kotoko.

"That goes beyond 'letting them off the hook'. You attacked them when they couldn't fight back."

"Criminals don't fight fair. I wasn't going to seek them out on even ground. Say, you seem awfully protective of Amane, considering that you hit and restrained her last trial too."

Es was still mad about how Kotoko had eavesdropped on all the interrogations last trial, but they couldn't counter her argument. 

"Or, could it be… You judged her for reasons other than her murder? A guilty judgment born out of misguided c-"

"Shut up!" Es pounded their fists on the table. It was all they could do not to slam their palm across Kotoko's face.

Kotoko chuckled. "You're only proving my point."

Es was supposed to finalize Amane's verdict later that day. Any lingering thoughts of declaring Amane unforgiven were crushed by this conversation.

They needed to break away from the topic of Amane. Maybe they could bring up Fuuta? He enacted misguided justice on a child too. Maybe Kotoko would see reason. No, they shouldn't feed Kotoko any more information about the other prisoners.

Kotoko took over in the silence again. "You've gotten soft, Es, backtracking and defending the very people you condemned. Did I execute my judgment based on such flimsy decisions? What a shame."

"There was no 'judgment' for you to execute. You acted on your own accord, out of line. There was no need for you to go that far!"

For all Es tried to reason with her, she may as well have been a brick wall. The way she attacked their character ticked them off so much that they could no longer stop their hand from connecting with her face. That only seemed to encourage her more. 

Honestly, Kotoko brought up a lot of good points that they couldn't counter. They were almost drawn to her invitation to rely on her.

But no. They had to stand their own ground.

For Mahiru's sake. She wholeheartedly trusted Es to stick to their beliefs and judge honestly.

For Amane's sake. They owed it to her to make judgments they could stand behind firmly.

For Fuuta's sake. They promised to judge him with resolve. Leaving that judgment up to Kotoko would be a huge disservice to him.

And even for Kotoko's sake. If they were going to be the warden she expected them to be, then they couldn't falter and fall back on her.

It was Es's job to run Milgram. Kotoko would not take it from them.

-

Q. Aren't your actions overstepping boundaries?

A. I was just enacting your judgment, regardless of who was at the other end of the stick. I only serve as an extension of your will.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Spoilers for JJK 261:

🫠🫠🫠

Is it weird that I love and hate this chapter at the same time?

I hate this chapter because of what was done to Gojo and Yuta. I understand that the jujutsu world is cruel, and Gojo, who when he was born, shifted the balance of the world. He was born with a duty, which is to be a tool that protects the jujutsu world. He was raised that way, alongside everyone else, they all went into this job knowing that they would die anytime. They are jujutsu sorcerers, not heroes, as stated by Megumi to Yuuji way back. I also understand why everyone reacted the way they did in this chapter. Everyone who was born into the jujutsu world understood this. Gojo understood, that's why he decided to be the monster, partly also because of Geto. Geto became a monster to save his comrades, and Gojo didn't want to leave his friend alone again. I won't say much about the others because I am waiting for the full translation by tcb to come out before I make my final conclusion and maybe wait a few chapters to see how things go.

I love this chapter because Yuta understood all these but still insisted that Gojo shouldn't have to be the monster, he is so selfless, or you can call it selfish in a Sukuna way, that he is willing to cast aside his humanity to be the monster and fill in Gojo's shoes when others couldn't. Yuta kept his promise of not letting Gojo kill his best friend a second time, and also his promise to Gojo for taking care of his students.

A lot of people I see on twitter/youtube, hated Yuta for taking over Gojo's body and the others for agreeing to this plan. I understand them, I also want a proper burial for Gojo, but we have to remember who they are facing right now; the strongest sorcerer in history. If you want to defeat a monster, you have to become a monster. I see some people saying that Yuta could have chosen other ways of fighting Sukuna, but what other ways are there? I couldn't think of a single way of them winning Sukuna now other than Gojo returning or plot armour. Gojo returned in a really unexpected way, but at least now they have a chance at things.

The only consolation I have is that at least Gojo died on the same date as Geto, his one and only best friend. I am glad that he was at least satisfied with his death and could be with his friends in the afterlife airport.

That's all I can think of today 😂 I might change my opinions, but for now, I am gonna cry myself to sleep now and listen to Daddy's home to cope. Sorry for my long rant, I am depressed again, not as bad as chapter 236, but it's up there because, I think this chapter truly confirmed that there is no way of Gojo ever returning, and Yuta might be gone after 5 minutes too. Last week was Choso, this week is Gojo for the second time, that's what is fucked up for me. Next chapter who? Yuta? I don't want to think anymore. SORRY FOR MY RANT AGAIN, GOOD NIGHT AND THANK YOU FOR READING MY RANT. 🫶🏽

Hi sweet anon! THERE'S NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE FOR YOUR RANT AT ALL!!

I agree that it didn't hurt as badly as 236. So much has happened. It's hurt so much. And while it's meant to, that's not a comfort.

I've been convinced for a while that Gojo wasn't coming back. I was honestly really hoping that it was Sukuna seeing shit as he died, but alas, 'twas not.

I've also seen a lot of Yuuta hate, for various reasons. I didn't realize people hated Yuuta so much lol but they can fuck off because Rinko and I will protect that lil bean with our LIVES.

There's more I could say, but I've already said a lot of it and you've voiced similar thoughts as the ones I have lol but I am proud of Yuuta for thinking of Gojo, for calling the others out for being fine with letting Gojo become a monster all by himself. I think it proves that Yuuta understood him better than the others, I think likely because he also lost someone dear to him and lived in purposeful isolation for so long. Yuuta knows what it's like to be alone, even if it was technically by his own choice.

ANYWAY. THANK YOU FOR YOUR RANT. I APPRECIATE IT. PLEASE FEEL FREE TO RANT IN MY INBOX WHENEVER YOU WANT OR NEED!! 😊

I hope today is a better day for you 💕💕

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Death by Exposure

Written for the Phic Phight Prompts: At first Danny had been worried sick that Wes had figured out that he was Phantom, but when no one believed him it had sort of become funny. Still, after the anti-ecto act, and the GIW, and his own parents very public very violently vitriolic screeds against ghosts, Danny had to wonder what he'd ever done to Wes that the guy would risk exposing Danny to all that. (from @hpwotters-blog, or at least I think that's you're tumblr.), Wes Weston wakes up to find an injured Phantom on the fire escape. (from @half-deadmagicperson), With how much time he spends on basketball and his delusional conspiracy theories, no one would ever suspect that Wes Weston has another secret hobby… (from @kadziduo), And Wes has been spending more and more time around Fenton and Co. lately - hey! he’s only trying to get some much-needed evidence against them, not trying to get all buddy-buddy with them. And anyway, they’re an entirely annoying bunch, so he wholeheartedly blames them for the fact that he’s currently being monologued at by the ghost holding him hostage. (from @a-closet-emo)

Chapter 5: Exposed

AO3 Link

[Warnings death mentions and kidnapping]

Much to both boys' surprise, Wes and Danny bonded during the remaining days of spring break. Even after Danny was fully healed and could go home, they hung out together. Wes even helped him in a ghost fight once or twice. When Sam and Tucker got back from their respective trips, they were dumbfounded.

"Danny, this is definitely just another ploy to gather evidence that you're Phantom," Sam pointed out. "I know you're not the brightest bulb, but even you have to see that."

"First of all, rude. And second of all, I showed up on his fire escape, bleeding out, and he patched me up," Danny told her. He'd already told her twice before. "I really don't think he's all that eager to expose me anymore. For now, at least."

"And how long is that gonna last?" Tucker asked. "How do you know he'll still feel that way tomorrow? Or next week?"

"I rarely ever say this, but Tucker's right," Sam said, crossing her arms. "Your parents and the Guys in White have created a propaganda machine that's constantly pumping out new anti-ghost sentiments. Wes may have resisted so far, but for how much longer?"

"Will you two just trust me?" Danny pleaded. "Ever since he figured out I'm Phantom, Wes has learned a lot more about ghosts than your average Amity Parker. He knows as well as we do that the Guys in White are lying about ghosts being non-sentient. And you're right, he still wants people to know I'm Phantom, but you were also right a couple months ago when you said he didn't want me to get hurt. Do you remember that?" 

"We do trust you, Danny," Tucker said. "We just don't understand why you'd trust Wes, unless you're like, being overshadowed, or you lost your mind or something."

"Is that it?" Sam asked. "Have you gone completely insane? Next thing you're gonna tell us is that you've started thinking of Vlad as a father figure."

"Ew," Danny cringed. "It's nothing like that. I just think maybe we misjudged Wes a little bit."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Sam scoffed.

"Great, 'cause he's having lunch with us on Monday, when school starts back up again."

"WHAT?"

Sam and Tucker were none too pleased when Wes joined them in the cafeteria, just like Danny had said he would. But he didn't go on his usual tangent about Danny's secret identity, and, "How am I the only one seeing this? Wake up!" Even when Danny openly mentioned something that happened while fighting ghosts as Phantom, Wes kept it confined to their table.

He did ask a lot of questions about ghosts, though, and every time Danny answered them, Sam and Tucker would give him a look like he'd just sold Fenton Works for a handful of beans.

"What are you doing?" Sam hissed in his ear. "He's going to use this information to expose you!"

"Eventually, maybe, but relax," Danny muttered back. "He's changing his tack, okay? He wants to prove ghosts are sentient first and get the anti-ecto acts repealed."

"Oh, sure, that's a totally attainable goal for a high school student." She rolled her eyes. "Do you really believe he's going to do that?"

"I don't know, but he seems to," Danny told her with a shrug.

"I know you guys are talking about me," Wes said. "If you won't say it to my face, don't say it at all. Put up or shut up."

"Sam says she has no faith in you," Danny told him, and she gasped and punched him in the shoulder. "Ow!"

"That's fair," Wes said. "She's gonna eat those words, though."

"I'd like to see you make me!" she sneered.

"I'd like to see that, too," Tucker piped up cheerfully. "It's always fun to watch Sam eat her words. Those words better be vegan, am I right?"

Danny laughed before saying, "actually, I think words are technically an animal product, since they come from humans. Guess Sam may have to go off her diet." The two of them busted up while Sam scowled, and Wes looked confused for a moment before chuckling awkwardly, just so he wouldn't be left out.

Wes continued to spend more time with the three of them. He could often be found taking notes on things they said about ghosts for his new conspiracy theory about the G.I.W. covering up the fact that ghosts are sentient in order to enact the legal genocide of an intelligent species.

"What are you doing hanging out with that loser so often?" Dash asked derisively as he caught the ball Wes sent his way and passed it to Josh. Wes had just told him that he was meeting Danny and his friends once basketball practice was over. Dash faked a gag for dramatic effect.

"Lay off, dude, I'm gathering evidence," Wes said. The whole school still thought Wes was obsessed with his 'Fenton is Phantom' theory, and he didn't have enough evidence to start spreading his new theory yet, so he used that as his cover. It was harder than he thought to prove that ghosts were genuinely sentient when the commonly held belief was that they were pretending to be sentient, for God only knew what reason. "If I spend time around them, they'll eventually slip up and give me everything I need."

"Dude, you're off your nut if you're still trying to prove your stupid theory," Dash said with a snort. "He's not Phantom. Just admit you're crushing on him and stop making excuses."

"I am not crushing on Danny Fenton!" Wes snapped, insulted by the insinuation, one that was made far too often for Wes' liking. "Fenton's a complete dumbass, a liar, and an asshole. I'm gay, not stupid. I would never be attracted to someone like that."

"Uh-huh, sure." Dash clearly didn't believe it. Wes just sighed and stopped arguing, knowing it would be useless if he did. Nobody ever believed anything Wes said, so that was hardly new. It was annoying though. 

When basketball practice ended, he headed to Fenton's house. Sam, Danny, and Tucker were all going to teach Wes how to play Doomed, which promised to be an... interesting experience.

Wes had never really played any video games before. He'd tried out a few at an arcade once, years ago. Kyle got to pick where they had their party on odd numbered years, so they went to one for their eleventh birthday. Wes hadn't lasted more than five minutes on any of the games there, and it ranked among the worst birthday parties he'd ever had for the pure frustration. He got back at Kyle for their twelfth though, when Wes got to choose the place and they had their birthday party at a bird sanctuary.

He knocked on the door when he arrived, and Danny answered it and immediately ushered Wes up to his room before his parents could intercept and trap Wes in a one-sided conversation about ghosts. Well, actually, with Wes there might've been some audience participation.

After an hour, Wes had made a character and approximately nine thousand derisive comments about video games, but he hadn't even managed to beat the first level. The other three were extremely amused.

"I told you I'm not good at video games," he reminded them, having to shout to be heard over their uproarious laughter as he repeatedly ran his character into a wall... again. "I told you all, like, a dozen times, but you insisted!" Even Sam had, which had surprised Wes, because she didn't seem like the gamer type. "I don't have the finger reflexes and shit."

"You spend all day behind a camera!" Tucker pointed out, panting with laughter. "How do you not have finger reflexes?"

"It's different reflexes!" 

"You know what, Wes, maybe you should stick to bird watching," Danny said, patting his shoulder with fake sympathy.

"I didn't want to play in the first pla—"

"Bird watching?!" Tucker shouted, interrupting him. "You're shitting me right now."

"No, I saw his bird watching journal," Danny said. "It's intensely nerdy." Wes shot to his feet to chew him out for exposing his shameful secret, but whatever he said, it couldn't be heard over Sam's witch-like cackle.

In the end, Wes couldn't help getting dragged in, and started laughing himself. Even as he said, "Fuck you guys," he was smiling.

They took a break from gaming when Danny's parents left to check out a ghostly disturbance that Tucker had called in a fake tip about. The four of them headed downstairs to the lab to give Wes a tour.

"If he's going to hang out with us, he needs to at least know how the ghost portal works," Danny insisted, though Sam and Tucker grumbled complaints the whole way down the stairs. "Let me show you." Danny gave him a demonstration of how he returned ghosts from the thermos into the Ghost Zone, and how to know when the portal was just closed, and when it was actually sealed.

"This is pretty cool, actually," Wes said. He'd heard about the portal, of course, the Doctors Fenton could hardly shut up about it, but looking at it was a different story, "seeing another dimension."

Danny snorted. "Careful, Wes," he warned lightly. "That's the same thing I said, right before I died in it." Wes stopped cold.

"You what?"

"Oh... I guess I forgot that for all your yelling, you don't actually know how I became half ghost, do you?" Danny's smiled turned pained. "Yeah. The portal didn't work at first, and Sam and Tucker convinced me to check out the inside. It uh... kinda turned on while I was in there and...." Danny trailed off for a moment, swallowing and furrowing his eyebrows, as though he was remembering something deeply unpleasant. "Well, short version is it kinda killed me, kinda didn't, and that's why I am the way that I am."

"Just so you know, Wes," Sam said darkly, "It's super rude to ask a ghost how they died."

"It's okay, Sam," Danny told her, pulling himself together. "I'm the one who brought it up."

Wes refrained from making a biting comment about how he wasn't the one who'd goaded Danny to his death to begin with. It seemed like it would be in poor taste, given the setting and present company. Danny clearly didn't like thinking about it. Instead, Wes pointed out a huge object against one wall, covered in a tarp, and asked what it was. 

Danny jumped on the subject change and tore the tarp away to reveal the Specter Speeder, and told Wes all about how it worked. "Maybe some other time, we'll take you with us on one of our trips into the Ghost Zone," Danny offered.

"Really? That would be awesome!"

Sam and Tucker groaned. They still weren't fully on board with Wes spending more time around them, and it wasn't like Wes wanted to get all buddy-buddy with them either. If anyone brought it up, he'd tell them the same thing he told Dash. He was gathering evidence against them, nothing more. They were all annoying, anyway.

Wes left when it was starting to get dark out. All told, despite monumentally sucking at Doomed, he'd gathered a lot of good information on ghosts and ectology when he was in the lab, and he could definitely use it to support his theory. As soon as he stepped off the front porch, something grabbed him out of nowhere, and he was flying away.

"What the?!" Wes struggled, but it was no use. He looked up to see his kidnapper, the ghost of some kind of medieval nobleman or something, wearing fine purple and black robes and a bitter expression on his blue face. "Fan-fucking-tastic." Wes pouted and crossed his arms. Of course something like this would happen. This is what he got for befriending Danny Fenton. 

First | Previous | Next