#in order we have: Anxiety. Closest thing to a straight man who is not straight at all. Lovable NPC. The Dumb One. and Morally iffy Cool One | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hintsoftheredlightdistrict · 3 years ago

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Very frustrated that I keep seeing people on here complain about 25th Bam's supposed plot armor when that's actually one of his main character flaws.

Like sure, he can withstand some attacks he shouldn't be able to, and he can punch well above his metaphorical weight class. If you're willing to read through this, I want to do my best to convince you of two things - first, that Bam has always been written with this intent in mind (i.e. that this is not a case of runaway power levels a la Dragon Ball) and second, that the themes of the story are directly served by Bam being OP (i.e. that much of the series' emotional weight is not just in spite of Bam's power, but because of it). I'll be talking about the current arc so if you care about spoilers this is your one and only warning

In order to illustrate the first point as briefly as possible, let's go over a bulleted list of some major moments in Bam's life, as well as some notes on what we can learn from these about Bam's desires and eventual conflicts.

Bam spends his early life in extreme isolation in a cave. He has one friend who occassionally visits, Rachel. As such, Bam has a strong desire for companionship and autonomy.

Rachel tells him not to leave the cave. I can think of three main reasons for this: 1) that Rachel was worried people outside would abuse or manipulate Bam, 2) that Rachel feared Bam's destiny would directly interfere with her dreams in some way, or 3) that the physical environment or the nature of Bam's resurrection prevented him from being able to survive outside.

Bam makes a contract with the Administrator on the 2nd Floor. The Administrator tells him that this contract - arguably the source of Bam's abilities as a Wave Controller - is a shackle. Bam's powers are thus suggested to come at the expense of his autonomy.

FUG manipulates the 2nd Floor testing process to separate Bam from his friends, essentially using them as hostages to make him participate as JVG, Slayer Candidate in their bid to commit regicide. Bam's power and his Irregular status are both explicitly cited in the text as reasons FUG interfered in his life and endangered his friends. Because Irregulars are not bound to the rules of the Tower, Bam is thought to be one of the rare few exempt from the rules of Jahad's immortality contract. This makes Bam's desire for autonomy tragic, because his unusual capability to act as he wants

Bam, as JVG, allows himself to be pulled into the newly-formed Team Sweet & Sour. His FUG mentor realizes how important it is for him to have these new friends and decides not to punish him for violating FUG's earlier command that he pass the floor test alone. From this point on he has three teams of people who are for the most part significantly weaker than himself who all want to climb the Tower with him.

Ok, this got much longer than intended already so time for the lightning round

Bam's initial motivation to be with Rachel

SIU deciding to have Bam basically unaware of, and uninvolved in, Horyang's recovery.

Bam initially rejecting Blue Thryssa's offer of tyrannical power

Endorsi's team turning against Bam temporarily in the Name Hunt Station

Bam's failed promise to save Deng Deng

Khun and Hatz's homoerotically-charged anxiety about the increasing possibility that Bam will simply become too powerful for them to keep up with him, and their desire to continue climbing the Tower with him as long as they can.

Here's a question about the bolded bits above - are these the strategic decisions of someone who intrinsically values victory and strength? Are these conflicts that Bam could have overcome through sheer power and durability? Does Bam's power lend itself to the type of life he wants to live?

This has been a lot, so let's return to the issue at hand: the idea that Bam is 'overpowered' or has 'plot armor.' As much as the phrase 'plot armor' irks me, I do think it signifies a real issue with how stories driven by a Main Character often struggle to make mortal threats the Main Character faces seem credible. I think this is actually one of the reasons for the recent ubiquity of power-fantasy based isekai - faced with the task of dangling the marshmellow over the campfire only to yank it out at the perfect golden-brown moment, some decide not to bother and just eat them straight from the bag instead. There is no 'correct' way to write a story, but in my opinion the most promising isekai authors often do what SIU has done with Tower of God - convert narrative weakness into strength by using the protagonist's invincibility and immense power as a catalyst to introduce conflicts that these superhuman traits cannot directly solve.

I'm sorry if you feel like Bam's power dulls the stakes of the story, but in my opinion these are the highest the stakes have ever been. He has brought some of his closest friends to war with Jahad's army, endangering their lives for the sake of one man - one of the guys responsible for threatening his friends to begin with, at that. Even if weaker characters like Shibisu manage to make it out of this thing without serious injury or death, they will be targets of Jahad's soldiers and assassins for the rest of their lives. Physically, Bam will survive and continue to grow stronger and climb the Tower after the Nest. But otherwise? I see no reason to believe the Nest will do anything less than humble Bam to an unprecedented degree.

#tower of god #tog #kami no tou #tower of god spoilers

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iliveiloveiwrite · 5 years ago

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How To Stop Time: Touch

Request: Please could you do a soulmate au where time stops when solemates touch for the first time with draco 💞

A/N: Another soulmate AU and for Draco? It’s like you’re treating me, I swear. You must know how much of a sucker I am for this man. Thank you so much for requesting this, nonnie! I hope I’ve done it justice! <3

Warnings: swearing - it’s a load of fluff and me waxing lyrical about the history of soulmates... again.

Word count: 2.1k

The magic surrounding the tale of soulmates is so powerful that it is said time stops when soulmates finally touch.

The eldest witches and wizards in the magical community believe that in response to the muggle witch hunts across history, and particularly, the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the soulmate bond was created as a way for witches and wizards to identify their other half without the risk of increased danger.

To tiny witches and wizards, they grow up on this tale. They relish in the belief that their love for their soulmate is so powerful that time will stop once they touch; spurred on by the tales of their parents and grandparents before them who had found their soulmate in the other. Across the world, tiny witches and wizards curl up in their bed, dreaming of how time will stop the moment they find their soulmate.

-----

As you progressed in your education at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, countless numbers of your friends found their soulmates. Each of them bounding up to you giddily as they each explained how time stopped the moment they touched their soulmate, and how it felt like time would always stop whenever they looked at them.

As you entered your seventh year and you still hadn’t found your soulmate, you began to question whether you had one. For a small percentage of the wizarding population, they did not have a soulmate, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing – those without a soulmate felt the freedom of being able to choose who they loved and who they dedicated their life to. However, as a teenager watching their friends fall in love around them, you were desperate to know if you had one.

Sure, you had crushes. The longest one being on the blonde-haired Malfoy heir, and the part of you that dreams at night, wonders whether it could be him for it seemed that he hadn’t found the person that made time stop for him either.

-------

To say you were frustrated would be an understatement.

NEWT exams were rapidly approaching yet you felt no more confident with your potions ability than you did at the beginning of the year. You had barely scraped by to get into Slughorn’s Advanced Potions class but scrape by you did and now you find yourself questioning why you had ever taken the class.

Not to mention the fact that your soulmate was still to make an appearance. Your closest friend, Sam had found his soulmate in a Ravenclaw boy named James – they were lovely together, but the anxiety of not having found your soulmate as well as the upcoming exams diminished your happiness for them.

They comforted you; promising that you would find your soulmate soon and that you would pass your exams without fail. And though they tried their hardest, you found it hard to believe them.

Instead, you take matters into your own hands, pushing all thoughts of soulmates and your lack of one to the back of your mind as you approach Professor Slughorn after class in which a practical had gone drastically wrong. He agreed to help; promising he would call on you when he found it.

You left the classroom feeling somewhat at ease with his words. You may not have found your soulmate, but you’ll be damned if you don’t pass your exams.

Professor Slughorn calls on you on a Thursday evening; sending a note with a first year to your common room asking you to join him in his classroom. You head straight there, pulling on a jumper as you leave the common room.

“Miss (Y/L/N), thank you for joining us.” Professor Slughorn greets as you enter the classroom, taking in the sight of him and Draco Malfoy.

“Of course, Professor.” You say, sitting in the empty seat next to Draco.

Slughorn smiles at the two of you, “You approached me at the end of our last lesson, Miss (Y/L/N), asking for extra help with Potions, is that right?”

“I did, sir.”

“I spoke to Draco after we had our conversation, and he’s more than happy to tutor you, isn’t that right?”

Draco crosses a leg over the other, “It is. I’m more than happy to help.”

Slughorn claps his hands together, pleased at the fact that he’s sorted this between you both. “I’ll leave my classroom free for you both on Saturday, that way you won’t be disturbed.”

You stand from your seat, smiling at the professor and Draco. “Thank you.” You look at Draco, “I guess I’ll see you Saturday.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach as you leave Slughorn’s classroom.

-----------

Saturday arrives, and you hold back a yawn as you push open the door to Slughorn’s classroom. The chill of the morning and your residual tiredness has you pulling the sleeves of your cardigan down to cover your hands; hoarding any warmth possible.

“I know it’s early, but I went to the kitchens and the Elves were more than happy to wrap us up some warm pastries and give a flask of tea.” Draco greets.

He holds out a small cup of tea, steam still rising. You take it from him, letting the warmth fill your hands and then flow through your body as you take that first sip.

“Thank you, Draco.” You say, taking a bite of the breakfast pastry, moaning softly at the taste of butter and jam.

Draco smiles as he takes a bite of his own. “I thought we’d follow Slughorn’s curriculum, so we aren’t missing anything out. That means we start with Amortentia, is that okay?”

You nod, continuing to eat your breakfast.

Draco smirks, “Besides, it means I get to find out if you have a crush on anyone.”

You snort, “It goes both ways, I believe, Draco. I get to see if you have a crush too.”

Draco laughs, blushing lightly. He potters around the classroom, gathering the ingredients as you sip your tea. Watching him, you realise how attractive Draco truly is. Once you got past the hard exterior; removed the mask he so often wore, he was soft and gentle.

You had always harboured a small crush on the teenager titled the Slytherin Prince. You briefly wonder whether the love potion would smell like him.

Draco places jars and vials of ingredients on the table before collecting his cauldron from where he had placed it on the floor. He plants it on the stand before murmuring the warming charm so the bottom can heat up as he prepares the ingredients in the order that he needs them.

Draco instructs you through the potion; pausing every now and then for you to take down any notes. As you dip your quill in the ink pot for the fourth time, you think that Draco would make the perfect professor – he has a knack with words making explanations easier and relating them in a manner that are easily understood. Not to mention his passion for the subject comes across so clearly as he gestures with his hands and smiles all through his explanations.

He pauses part way through a sentence, “Let me know if I’m rambling too much, won’t you?”

“Of course, but I enjoy listening to you speak – you clearly love this subject, Draco.”

He looks away sheepishly, reading over the instructions he’s already memorised. “I’d like to be a Potions Professor once we leave here.”

“You’d be brilliant at it,” You reply immediately, “You have a talent for this, I already feel more confident in my potions ability.”

His blush from earlier returns as he murmurs, “Thank you. What are your plans for after?”

“I think I’d like to do something in the ministry; in the archives I think.”

Draco nods, understanding, “I’ve seen you in History of Magic. You’d suit the archives, with all the old documents.”

You laugh, “I just think the history of our society is so interesting.”

“You’d be a good professor, (Y/N).” Draco whispers.

“Let’s hope Professor Binns finally retires then,” You start, “That way we can work together.” You internally groan at your shoddy attempt at flirting, but Draco doesn’t seem to notice. He chuckles, “We’d make a good team.”

You stare down at your notes, fiddling with your quill, so Draco doesn’t see the giddy expression on your face.

Draco looks back to his instructions, glancing over the final few steps. He stirs the mixture clockwise for three more minutes before steam begins to rise from the cauldron.

He sits back into his seat, “There we go. All done.”

For a single minute, you watch the steam rise from the potion. Draco brewed it so effortlessly that you wonder where you had gone wrong the first time you attempted it. But with his instructions and his tutelage, you know that you would be able to brew it again successfully.

Temptation rises within you; the urge to lean over Draco’s cauldron and take a whiff of the potion becomes too much. Draco sees you shift in your chair, “Go on then,” he prompts, “What does it smell like?”

The fumes from the potion make your head spin slightly. They smell of something you’ve smelled before; of something you’ve been in close contact with recently.

Burnt sugar and rain give way to the delicate smell of roses.

And it hits you all of a sudden – you’re smelling the teenager sat next to you. Your heart races as you come to the realisation that the crush you had been harbouring for the blonde-haired teenager had evolved into something more.

The desperate thought runs through your head. The pleading thought of: please let him be my soulmate.

If you were already feeling this strongly about Draco, it would be hell on earth to find out that his soulmate was actually another.

“What did you smell then?” Draco asks as you sit back down in your chair.

You avoid his eyes as you say, “I’ll tell you once you have a smell.”

Draco frowns but he nods, nonetheless.

Draco bends over the cauldron, having noticed your reaction to the smell. He inhales deeply; the heady scent taking root within him.

Jasmine, citrus and orchids.

The smell of your perfume mixed with the floral smell of shampoo. It had settled around him.

He had a hunch it would smell like you. He’s had feelings for you since Fourth Year; smelling you perfume, and shampoo only confirmed what he already knew deep down – that he was in love with you.

Draco takes a step back from the table; the revelation hitting him all at one – so strongly it knocks the breath from him.

“I’ve had a thought.”

“I think I’m having the same one.” You say, standing up.

Draco’s eyes blaze as he states, “I think you’re my soulmate.”

You nod, “I think you’re my soulmate too.”

Draco holds his hand out to you; less than a centimetre away from you, but he doesn’t take the final step. Despite it all; despite the certainty, he cannot ignore the spike of fear running through his body. He never expected he would find his soulmate; he never expected that it would be you of all people. Draco had been crushing on you since Fourth Year; since you had sat next to him at dinner and asked his thoughts on the Triwizard Tournament – he was taken aback by your presence that he answered honestly, and the conversation that followed had been one of the most honest he had ever had.

You watch the myriad of emotions that flit over his face; trying to define each and every one of them. The certainty that you feel with the idea of Draco being your soulmate settles deep within your bones; combining with your genetic makeup. It all makes sense now; your feelings for Draco finally made sense.

You take the final step; taking his hand in yours, tangling your fingers together. His skin is smooth and soft against yours. His hand fits perfectly in yours, as if made for you.

And then time stops.

Time stops.

The steam from the Amortentia potion freezes; the ticking of the clock no longer sounds; the sound of younger students running up and down the corridor outside the classroom fall silent.

The only thing moving in this moment is you and Draco.

He draws you into his arms. One arm wrapping around your waist; the other caressing your cheek. His thumb rubs over your cheekbone as he smiles softly down at you. For a moment, neither of you speak for the small fear of breaking the instant in which you find yourselves. This time is so precious; it’s where everything is defined. You beam up at him, savouring the feel of his arm around your waist though you know that you have a lifetime to memorise the way he touches you.

“I never thought I would find you.” Draco whispers, in awe of the situation.

“You have. So what do you plan to do?”

“This.”

It’s all he says as he dips his head and kisses you.

*******************

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @dreamer821 @the-hufflefluffwriter @summer-writes @harrypotter289 @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @kalimagik @figlia--della--luna

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obx-beach @obxmxybxnk @sycathorn-slush

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banditthewriter · 4 years ago

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Intensity - Loki

Here we have a Loki fic. That came out of nowhere, I’ve only ever written drabbles for him. It’s not long but hopefully it’s not bad?

Enjoy!

*gif not mine*

*****

Unlike most people, the mutant gene didn’t show up when you were a kid. You could be grateful for that at least. Because of that little grace, your childhood had been completely normal. No worries, no fears, nothing out of the ordinary.

Then you started to notice changes.

People seemed calm around you for the most part. If your emotions were out of control, you realized that others would be that way too. It took a while to understand that it was more than just the environment, more than just coincidence.

It took a disaster.

It was a fight with your dad when you were a teen. You didn’t even remember what it was about, what caused the issue, but you were angry enough that you were told to go to your room. Your mom had come in to sit with you for a while to try to calm you down.

The next thing you know, she went into the living room and tried to attach your dad with a butcher knife. He was okay but he did have to get sixteen stitches. And your mom was traumatized, not understanding why she tried to kill the man she loved.

That’s what had them put it all together. The little things they’d noticed but had brushed off had come out in a big way.

You could influence other people’s emotions. Oddly enough, anger was easier than the nicer emotions, but you’d had a pretty laid back life so you didn’t feel anger a lot.

Maybe that’s why it was so potent when you did feel it.

Emotion manipulation could be dangerous without proper training so in college, after a few years of trying to pretend you were normal, you left to find someone to train you. Therapists, doctors, military people all tried their hand to get you trained. All of them had the same thing to say.

You were undisciplined at best. At worst? You’d never be able to be completely in control.

Over the years it became harder and harder to keep in contact with people, including your family. It wasn’t like you could have an actual relationship that way. You could never be sure if you were influencing someone’s emotions, even when you tried to get control of your powers.

The military had a bracelet that worked for other mental powers. It didn’t work flawlessly, but it helped. It dampened your emotional field so that it took touch to influence someone for the most part. That and a steady regime of keeping calm, you got a better grasp on it.

Better didn’t mean perfect though. You still sometimes affected people when you didn’t mean to. You still hated it when you did it.

One of the things you did learn while working with various therapists was that there was more to your power than just emotion manipulation. To a lesser degree, you could read emotions on people. It didn’t work as well when you had the bracelet on, dampened that power as well, but sometimes...sometimes you could catch bits and pieces off of the people closest to you.

While you traveled from military base to military base to try to figure out a way to work on your powers, you didn’t expect to get a call from the Avengers.

Well. It was less of a call and more of Iron Man dropping down in front of you and one of the generals so that he could offer you a place to stay at his tower.

“How’d you hear about me?”

Although you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew that Iron Man—Tony Stark, it was Tony Stark in front of you—was looking at you.

“Fury. He has a way of getting information on lost souls that need a little help. What do you say? Wanna be a part time Avenger? Use your mojo to make some people really docile so that we don’t have to keep wrecking New York City every time some supervillain decides to stop by?”

You shifted a bit and looked at the general beside you. He just shrugged.

You weren’t a prisoner of the military. It had been very evident that you were there voluntarily. It was up to you.

“I’m working on a better dampener for mental powers. Maybe I can make one that’s specific to your power and you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

And just like that, you didn’t need to hear anything else.

------

The tower is bigger than you thought it would be. Which is a good thing. Especially when you realized it’s not just the Avengers that frequent the tower but other members of Shield.

“This area is all yours,” Mr Stark says as he shows you to your room. Suite. Apartment. “The walls are made from the same dampening material as your bracelet so it’ll contain your powers.”

“My powers aren’t that powerful,” you said softly as you touched the bracelet in question. “Thank you Mr Stark. I...I want to help people but I am scared of what my powers might do. I want to protect people from me.”

He turned to look at you and dropped some of that rich man bravado he’d been sporting since he escorted you onto his private jet.

“You don’t have to be scared of yourself here. I promise.”

That’s not the last time you see him either. He explains that you should call him Tony and although it’s weird at first, you do.

“Tony, aren’t you scared I’ll influence you?”

He looked up from where he was typing on a tablet, his feet up on the table in your kitchenette.

“Pretty sure you do,” he said casually as he looked back down at the tablet. “It’s only ever small things though. Calm sometimes, tired sometimes. Hungry that one, that’s why I ordered pizza.”

You felt your heart start to beat fast at the thought of you accidentally influencing him, but he must have caught on to that.

“Anxiety and I are old friends,” he explained as he put the tablet down and crossed over to you. “I’m not worried about it. Your influence doesn’t last if I’m not around you so once I leave, I’m back to myself. But honestly? Your influences are a lot simpler than some of the things I’ve felt.”

You thought about everything you knew about Iron Man and the Avengers and decided, yeah, he was probably right. Anything you could make him feel would be pretty tame compared to flying a nuclear warhead into a wormhole without knowing if you were coming back.

------

The first time you meet Natasha Romanoff, you spill orange juice on your shirt. She just smirked and grabbed a napkin to hold out to you.

It was the first time you’d let yourself out of your rooms. The new bracelet was supposed to be more effective, but Tony said he wouldn’t know if he was on the right track until you let yourself be around people.

People meaning Shield agents. You didn’t expect to be face to face with Black Widow.

Her grin wavered for a second before it came back even brighter.

“You have better control than I thought you’d have,” she admitted as she leaned against a nearby table. “Stark said this new bracelet would still let you influence, but you stopped it pretty quick.”

“I didn’t even realize what I was doing,” you confided as you gripped your half full glass of orange juice. “I just want to hold it all in when I’m around people.”

Natasha tapped her fingers on the table before she crossed over towards the door.

“It’s not good to hold it in. You might end up like a grenade without a pin.”

With that helpful piece of advice, she left.

Later, in Tony’s lab rather than your room, you told him what she said. He nodded as he made a few adjustments.

“She’s got the right idea at least. You stretch your wings with it every now and then, that’s one thing. You don’t work it at all and the muscle will atrophy. Who knows what a gift like yours can do if it degrades and you don’t have control over it?”

It took a while to come up with a plan. A few Shield agents, volunteers specifically, would work with you and let you influence them. Under supervision in case you lost control.

It was a step. You just wish you knew if it was in the right direction or not.

------

“This is Thor and that’s his...brother Loki. Don’t worry, he’s on his best behavior these days.”

You nearly swallowed your spit when you turned around and sure enough, you were faced with Tony, Thor, and Loki. This was somehow your life but you hadn’t really figured it out yet. You were a few feet away from literal Gods.

Thankfully Tony couldn’t read your thoughts because he’d think you lumped him in with that group.

“Uh, hi,” you said as you introduced yourself.

“Ah, another Avenger? Welcome.”

You smiled at Thor and shook your head, but Tony moved over and draped his arm over your shoulder.

“Definitely an Avenger, just with training wheels. Probationary,” he explained at Thor’s uncertain look. “We’re working on the kinks.”

You wanted to elbow Tony to get him off of you, especially as you could feel your heart start to race in your chest. This was nerves, anxiety building into a spike in your chest. Only Tony didn’t seem to react. He usually would at least look at you if he felt you influencing him.

And he didn’t seem to feel anxious or nervous in the least. Neither did Thor who was talking to Tony about...something about a bridge, you weren’t sure.

But Loki. You hadn’t paid much attention to him after the initial greeting, but you met his gaze now. He was staring straight at you, an intrigued look on his face as he watched you.

Tony and Thor might not have noticed your influence, but it seems Loki had. Great.

“I should get back to the lab,” you said as you stepped out from under Tony’s arm. “It was nice to meet you both. Bye.”

You heard Thor’s farewell at your back, but you could still feel Loki’s gaze on your as you turned the corner.

------

Any other time that you ran into Thor in the tower, he always put you at ease. Tony had explained your powers and how you were coming to grips with them. Thor asked questions about it, always careful to never put you on edge, but he didn’t seem concerned for himself.

“It would be hard for a human such as yourself to influence an Asgardian mind,” he said with a smile when you asked him about it.

That didn’t explain Loki then. Besides your first meeting, every time you were around the dark haired God you’d turned into a nervous, babbling mess. The look on his face was always intrigued, but it wasn’t cruel. It seemed almost clinical.

Although you’d heard a lot about that particular God’s abilities. Maybe since he had some mind control abilities himself, he could feel it in you.

And didn’t that just put you on edge. You weren’t sure how you felt about having something in common with Loki, God of mischief.

Although you weren’t entirely sure that was the only reason you felt nervous around Loki. Most people talked about how attractive the God of thunder is, with reason, but there was just something about the dark haired God that caught your attention.

So of course you would find yourself alone with the God in question while you waited for Tony. The Avengers were off Avenging and you didn’t like to be holed up while you waited for them.

You weren’t sure why you expected Loki to be off with them, but he wasn’t. He was in a chair in the room, a book on his lap that he flicked through lazily. When you walked in, his eyes lifted up and met yours.

There was a challenge in his gaze. Normally you’d make an excuse and turn to leave. He was challenging you to see if you’d do it now that there weren’t other people around.

Instead you crossed over and went to the kitchen area.

“Is it because of my past misdeeds? Is that why you’re nervous around me?”

You hadn’t heard him speak before right then, but his voice fit him. You tapped your fingers against the fridge door that you had pulled open even though you weren’t hungry.

“I’ve heard a few stories about you, sure. But you’re a God. It’s...intimidating.”

You heard the chair creak. When you looked over your shoulder, he had stood up and crossed a few feet to be closer.

“Regardless of my past, you have nothing to fear from me.”

Slowly you shut the fridge door and turn to face him completely. The look on his face made you believe him. But it was more than that. You could feel something from him, an emotion buried in the haze from your bracelet.

Honesty.

“Okay,” you whispered as you met his eyes. “I’ll...keep that in mind.”

------

The lower library wasn’t exactly your favorite, but it was usually empty. You walked through the first few aisles and froze when you saw that you weren’t alone.

“You come here to be alone,” Loki guessed as he looked around the room. “It’s one of the few places that’s technically public but usually void of people.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself and nodded.

“I’m supposed to be in public for a few hours each day but sometimes it gets to be a bit too much. So I come here.”

He nodded as if he understood that. Then he turned to face you head on.

“How powerful are you?”

You almost laughed at that, but held it in.

“I’m not powerful, I’m untrained. Dangerous,” you added as you looked away from him.

One of the Shield agents had to be sedated when you’d made her feel too many things at once on accident. You weren’t sure how she was doing.

Tony was still calibrating the new bracelet, but you wore it anyways. You just hoped...hoped it was enough.

“I can help you. I’m skilled with mind control of stronger beings than humans.”

You fingered the bracelet you wore and thought about the Shield agent, your parents, all the people you’d influenced over the years that had bad results.

“I’ll think about it,” you said softly. Then you sighed. “I should go back to the lab. Tony will be looking for me.”

“Ah, yes, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

You smiled and looked away. You weren’t sure you could handle for Loki to pick up on how charmed you were by him just then.

You really needed to get better at keeping your feelings a secret.

------

The lab was in disarray. You stumbled from where you’d fallen, the debris mostly away from you.

Even in his panic, Tony hadn’t hurt you. He’d flung himself as far away as he could, kept his robots from hurting you, but he’d nearly destroyed his lab in the process.

“Tony?”

It was quiet for a moment but then you heard a rasping breath. You climbed over a fallen stool and went to your knees next to where he was crumpled on the floor.

“Tony, are you...what can I do?”

He let out a gasp, his eyes on your face for a moment before they slammed shut tight.

“JARVIS, get Pepper,” you called out, unsure of what else to do.

The mechanical voice said it would be a moment and then said that Miss Potts was on her way down. You slumped on the floor next to Tony, careful not to touch him.

Your anxiety about this test, about how long it had been since there had been any progress, had bled over to Tony. Only it was heightened somehow, the anxiety and worry causing a full blown flashback for him. You’d caught glimpses of it, almost-images of the wormhole and falling through the air.

It’s why you asked for Pepper. He hadn’t been able to talk to her before...before.

When she came in, she gave you an understanding look before she went to his side. Since he was being cared for, you got up and stumbled away from them. Your bracelet was still on the receiver so you grabbed it and hooked it on, grateful for the dullness you felt afterwards.

Then you left the lab. All you wanted to do was go to your rooms, to bury yourself under your blankets and wish it all away, but instead you headed in a different direction.

The room that Loki had been given was in the same hall as Thor, but you thought Thor was away on a mission with Steve and Sam. Loki’s door was shut, but when you raised your hand to knock, it came open.

“I need help.”

Loki came from across the room in a hurry, probably thinking you meant you were being chased. When he was sure the issue was less immediate, he nodded and met your eyes.

What he saw there made him let out a breath. He reached for you, slow so that you wouldn’t pull away. He unhooked the bracelet and set it to the side.

“This might be a bit uncomfortable,” he said softly as he raised his hands to your forehead.

In an instant you were no longer in the tower, no longer in New York. You were in your childhood bedroom, your mom helping you make your bed while your dad laughs at the two of you. It was such a distant memory, something you had forgotten.

As more and more of those happy memories come to the surface, you sense something from Loki. A bitter tang on your tongue.

He had hoped that your childhood would have been like his. He had seen you and imagined that you’d been set apart as well. To see a loving, happy childhood had almost been a disappointment for him.

That faded away as the next memory appeared. He watched from your own eyes as your mother, in a rage not of her own, tried to kill your father. He sees your best friend yelling that she can’t trust you, teachers telling you that you can’t come to class, job and job firing you after only days.

He sees relationship after relationship burn hot and bright at first and then the horror sets in, the worry that they didn’t want you like you wanted them, the anger from them, the apathy. You felt it all in spirals, in such quick succession that embarrassment started to well up inside you.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he promised as he continued to dig inside your memories. “You’re not there. They don’t matter.”

There’s something like a tug and then suddenly, like a dam breaking, you're overwhelmed with emotions. They seem to come from every direction like the room is crowded.

You open your mouth to say his name, to ask him for help, but instead there’s nothing but darkness as you give in to the pain.

------

The medical wing is new to you. When you sit up, there’s a hand on your shoulder to help you ease up the rest of the way.

“It’s been two days,” Natasha says in a tone you can’t quite read. “Thought we were going to have to take turns kissing you, Snow White.”

“Thanks for…not doing that,” you said as you reached up to rub at your forehead.

Loki. You had been in his room, he was in your mind. He was trying to help you, going through your memories. There had been...oh the emotions you’d felt before you’d passed out.

“Where’s Loki?”

Natasha doesn’t say anything, just reached out to grab a cup of water from next to your bed. As she held it out to you, you pushed it away.

“Natasha, where’s Loki? Tell me.”

She sighed and put the cup down.

“Steve and Thor had him put into a holding cell for attacking you.”

You were shaking your head before she even finished.

“He didn’t though!”

A tablet was on the table. After a brief hesitation she grabbed it and navigated through a few things.

“Watch this and tell me he didn’t attack you.”

You watched the recording from his room. The two of you were in front of each other, his hands on your head. There didn’t seem to be anything at first but then you saw what looked like a surge of magic go from his hands to your head.

You shook your head as you rewound it and watched the same spot.

“I need to see him,” you said when you finally looked up at her. “Now, Natasha.”

Although she obviously didn’t want to let you, she gave you a nod. You were already in sweats for comfort while you were unconscious, so you just slid on some too big slippers and let her lead the way to the holding cells.

Steve immediately raises his hands once you enter the hallway.

“What the hell Romanoff, I said–”

“Yeah, when’s the last time I listened to you,” Natasha snarked with a smirk. Then she gestured at you. “She wants to talk to him.”

Steve was just about to say no, but Thor came from down the hall with a frown.

“I think she should. I know what we saw, but we don’t understand it. It’s possible the only one that can understand it is her. Besides,” he added with a sly look in your direction, “Loki is on his best behavior when she’s around.”

You didn’t know how to take that, but thankfully it seemed to persuade Steve. He told you he’d buzz you into the cell once you were there. They had a camera so they’d see and hear everything and, if you needed it, could come and save you.

You really didn’t think you’d need it.

In the cell, Loki seemed different. He ignored you when you came in, just threw a ball against the wall and caught it over and over again.

You wished you could use your powers to read Asgardians as well as humans, but...wait.

There was nothing. From Natasha, from Steve, from the nurse who had released you. Usually you felt something, a low hum of their emotions, but there was nothing.

“The force of it was too much for you, but it’ll come back.” He caught the ball and let it rest beside him on the bench. “You felt too many emotions at once. Your mind was adapting to having mine in there when it happened and it overloaded.”

You nodded and sat down beside him, a few feet away just so that Steve wouldn’t bust in. You really didn’t need observers with this, but you knew you didn’t have a choice.

“It felt so weird. It was like I could feel the emotions of everyone in the tower at once.”

Loki looked over at you in surprise.

“In the tower? That was everyone in the city at once.” At your surprised look, he offered a smile. “I knew you were powerful when we first met, I just didn’t realize how powerful.”

You sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“Holy shit,” you breathed with another laugh. “No wonder I’ve been asleep for two days.”

And here you thought you couldn’t really surprise the God of mischief more than you already had.

“Two days? So that’s...why you haven’t come to set the record straight.”

Oh. Had he thought that you believed the story that he’d attacked you? Or did he just think that you were letting him suffer?

“Just woke up. Saw the video, heard you were down here, came to rescue you.”

He laughed at that, a sound that both surprised and pleased you.

“How do you feel?”

You thought about it. The emptiness in your head was blissful. So was the fact that you didn’t need to worry about making people feel your emotions.

“I hope it never comes back.”

His hand closed around yours and, with a gentle tug, he pulled you a little closer to him.

“You shouldn’t hope for that. The gifts you have don’t have to be a burden. You can learn to control them, learn to use them.” He smiled at you, his eyes locked on yours. “I said I knew you were powerful and I meant it. I could feel it in you.”

You rubbed a hand over your wrist where your bracelet usually sat.

“Maybe I should be the one in the holding cell.”

Loki’s face became more serious as he looked you over.

“It could happen one day.”

The memory of Tony curled up on his side after your influence made you think about what had happened in Loki’s room. Your mind had reached the entirety of the city. If you could push your influence that far…

“I have to…”

You didn’t bother saying more, just tore from the room in a rush. Steve was outside and he nodded when he met your eyes.

“We saw. We believe you. We’ll let him out.”

You nodded because that was good, but that wasn’t the only thing on your mind.

You needed to talk to Tony.

------

“You sure you don’t feel anything?” At your baleful look, Tony shrugged and looked back at the scan. “Your brain is unusually active.”

“I’ll try not to be offended,” you said with a laugh.

Tony crossed over to where you sat. He looked good for a man who just a few days ago had been basically curled up under his table in a panic. And he had forgiven you for that.

“Make me feel something. Something small, please,” he added with a grin.

You drummed your fingers on the table for a moment before you nodded. Then you focused on Tony and a new feeling.

“God I could eat a cheeseburger,” he commented as his hand went to his stomach. “Wait. Was that it? Was that you?”

You started to smile but then you focused on him some more. There was surprise, under the surface, but you had to actually look for it. It didn’t come out of nowhere.

“I have control?”

Tony clapped his hands together. Then he reached out for your bracelet and tossed it into the trash can.

“It was a prototype anyways. We’ll get one together just in case, but I think we can say you’re off the bench for now.”

You laughed and tossed your arms around his neck.

“Thank you Tony.”

“Yeah, yeah, now let’s get something to eat. Seriously, I’m starving.”

------

A few days after his release, you found Loki in the library. He looked up as you entered as if he knew it was you.

Maybe he did.

“Thank you. Because of what you did, I have control now.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. “Thor said you’ll be going on a mission with them soon to celebrate.”

Yeah, you’d heard that as well. It was exciting, if a little daunting.

“It might do you some good to continue to train with me, if you wish. To perfect your talents.”

You smiled. Then you moved over to sit beside him. Now that you had control, you let your mind open to try to read him.

Silence. You frowned and tried again.

“Because of my powers, I can protect myself,” he said with a tap of his fingers to his temple, a grin on his lips. “I do appreciate the effort though.”

You laughed and looked down at your hands. Nervousness settled over you.

“I just thought if I could read your emotions, I could know if…”

If he was interested in you. If your feelings had influenced him at all.

“You could never influence me, I promise.”

You opened your mouth to ask how he knew that’s what you were thinking, but then you remembered. He’d been in your head. Besides seeing just how horrifically all of your past relationships had ended, he would have felt how you felt about him.

He was putting you at ease. Your nerves started to rise and either he could tell, or he just knew you that well already.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You met his eyes and smiled, a little breathless as you thought about the possibilities.

“Not uncomfortable. Just...nervous.”

He leaned in towards you, his grin nearly blinding until his lips met yours.

You didn’t need to be nervous anymore.

Thanks for reading!

#loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki fanfic #my writing

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julienbakersideblog · 4 years ago

Text

Julien Baker’s track-by-track walkthrough of ‘Little Oblvions’

1. Hardline

“It’s more of a confession booth song, which a lot of these are. I feel like whenever I imagine myself in a pulpit, I don't have a lot to say that's honest or useful. And when I imagine myself in a position of disclosing, in order to bring me closer to a person, that's when I have a lot to say.”

2. Heatwave

“I wrote it about being stuck in traffic and having a full-on panic attack. But what was causing the delay was just this car that had a factory defect and bomb-style exploded. I was like, ‘Man, someone got incinerated. A family maybe.’ The song feels like a fall, but it's born from the second verse where I feel like I'm just walking around with my knees in gravel or whatever the verse in Isaiah happens to be: the willing submission to suffering and then looking around at all these people's suffering, thinking that is a huge obstacle to my faith and my understanding, this insanity and unexplainable hurt that we're trying to heal with ideology instead of action.”

3. Faith Healer

“I have an addictive personality and I understand it's easy for me to be an escapist with substances because I literally missed being high. That was a real feeling that I felt and a feeling that felt taboo to say outside of conversations with other people in recovery. The more that I looked at the space that was left by substance or compulsion that I've then just filled with something else, the more I realised that this is a recurring problem in my personality. And so many of the things that I thought about myself that were noble or ultimately just my pursuit of knowing God and the nature of God—that craving and obsession is trying to assuage the same pain that alcohol or any prescription medication is.”

4. Relative Fiction

“The identity that I have worked so hard to cultivate as a good person or a kind person is all basically just my own homespun mythology about myself that I'm trying to use to inspire other people to be kinder to each other. Maybe what's true about me is true about other people, but this song specifically is a ruthless evaluation of myself and what I thought made me principled. It's kind of a fool's errand.”

5. Crying Wolf

“It's documenting what it feels like to be in a cyclical relationship, particularly with substances. There was a time in my life, for almost a whole year, where it felt like that. I think that is a very real place that a lot of people who struggle with substance use find themselves in, where the resolution of every day is the same and you just can’t seem to make it stick.”

6. Bloodshot

“The very first line of the song is talking about two intoxicated people—myself being one of them—looking at each other and me having this out-of-body experience, knowing that we are both bringing to our perception of the other what we need the other person to be. That's a really lonely and sad place to be in, the realisation that we're each just kind of sculpting our own mythologies about the world, crafting our narratives.”

7. Ringside

“I have a few tics that manifest themselves with my anxiety and OCD, and for a long time, I would just straight-up punch myself in the head—and I would do it onstage. It's this extension of physicality from something that's fundamentally compulsive that you can't control. I can't stop myself from doing that, and I feel really embarrassed about it. And for some reason I also can't stop myself from doing other kinds of more complicated self-punishment, like getting into co-dependent relationships and treating each one of those like a lottery ticket. Like, 'Maybe this one will work out.'”

8. Favor

“I have a friend whose parents live in Jackson, where my parents live. They’re one of my closest friends and they were around for the super dark part of 2019. I'll try to talk to the person who I hurt or I'll try to admit the wrongdoing that I've done. I'll feel so much guilt about it that I'll cry. And then I'll hate that I've cried because now it seems manipulative. I'm self-conscious about looking like I hate myself too much for the wrong things I've done because then I kind of steal the person's right to be angry. I don't want to cry my way out of shit.”

9. Song in E

“I would rather you shout at me like an equal and allow me to inhabit this imagined persona I have where I'm evil. Because then, if I can confirm that you hate me and that I'm evil and I've failed, then I don't any longer have to deal with the responsibility of trying to be good. I don't any longer have to be saddled with accountability for hurting you as a friend. It’s something not balancing in the arithmetic of my brain, for sin and retribution, for crime and punishment. And it indebts you to a person and ties you to them to be forgiven.”

10. Repeat

“I tried so hard for so long not to write a tour song, because that's an experience that musicians always write about that's kind of inaccessible to people who don't tour. We were in Germany and I was thinking: Why did I choose this? Why did I choose to rehash the most emotionally loaded parts of my life on a stage in front of people? But that's what rumination is. These are the pains I will continue to experience, on some level, because they're familiar.”

11. Highlight Reel

“I was in the back of a cab in New York City and I started having a panic attack and I had to get out and walk. The highlight reel that I'm talking about is all of my biggest mistakes, and that part—‘when I die, you can tell me how much is a lie’—is when I retrace things that I have screwed up in my life. I can watch it on an endless loop and I can torture myself that way. Or I can try to extract the lessons, however painful, and just assimilate those into my trying to be better. That sounds kind of corny, but it's really just, what other options do you have except to sit there and stare down all your mistakes every night and every day?”

12. Ziptie

“I was watching people be restrained with zip ties on the news. It's just such a visceral image of violence to see people put restraints on another human being—on a demonstrator, on a person who is mentally ill, on a person who is just minding their own business, on a person who is being racially profiled. I had a dark, funny thought that's like, what if God could go back and be like, ‘Y'all aren't going to listen.’ Jesus sacrificed himself and everybody in the United States seems to take that as a true fact, and then shoot people in cold blood in the street. I was just like, ‘Why?’ When will you call off the quest to change people that are so horrid to each other?”

For Apple Music

#julien baker #little oblivions #interview #apple music #HOW WE DOIN YALL #I AM NOT OKAY #VERY #long post

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spices-and-cherries · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t make me wait (James Bond x Reader)

This was a request by the lovely @iamcavainna! I’m so sorry it took so long, but life was being a bit rough. I also wanted to at least try and make this good, so I thought that it would be better if I took some time with it... There is a fluffy ending!

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Warnings: drinking wine, a gun, angst, anxiety, mentions of potential accidents that could happen in a snowy mountain

It’s not uncommon for your partner, James Bond, to be traveling abroad for weeks on end. While it can get lonely, he does try to call regularly from whichever hotel he’s staying in. After a while, you became used to it. Why? Late or not, he always kept his promise:

I’ll be back.

The last time he had called, he had said that he wouldn’t be able to contact you for a week at most due to a strenuous business conference at a ski resort in the Alps. Seeing as this was normal routine for him, you thought nothing of it and just reminded him not to accidentally hurt himself (yet again).

But today, you’re worried. In fact, you’ve been worried for five days straight. It’s been over a week - eleven days to be exact - and now you feel as though something is off.

Had he flown off the side of a cliff? Did he get lost? Was he trapped under an avalanche of snow?

James had given you an address to go to in case of emergency, but would this be the right time to use it? How can you be sure that you’re just not being paranoid? And if you did go, what would you say? James has never taken you to his place of work and barely talks about his colleagues, so who would you even be speaking to?

Hundreds of panicked questions circle your mind as you pace around your living space, phone in one hand and address in the other. You had barely slept the night before and hadn’t eaten all day.

You missed James. He’s been gone for almost a month now and no number of phone calls could replace the feeling of his warmth on his side of the bed. His laugh, his miserable cooking, his rough hands... You needed all of that and more back at home next to you. So you had to go.

You check the time. It’s just before four o’clock. If you hurry, you just might catch someone on their way out.

---

Without a second thought, you slip on your coat and hurry to the closest bus stop. The trip there was a bit of a haze, between the times you were navigating and transferring. The haze dissipates pretty quickly as you walk up to what was supposed to be some office building and not a glamourous apartment complex with a Rolls Royce being unloaded in front of the main entrance.

You have to double and triple check the address written down and your GPS on your phone. It seemed to be the right place...

Tentatively, you walk into the lobby, feeling very out of place and small. The floor looks like it all marble and there’s a little fountain in the middle of the space.

Anxious, you manage to sign yourself in at the front desk. There were some complications due to your ID, but after a quick phone call, it was sorted out and you were free to go up. You speed-walk to the elevators, feeling like someone was watching you. Looking around, you didn’t see anyone but the uptight attendant you had just spoken to making another call. The elevator doors open and you walk in.

As you get closer and closer to your destination, you feel more anxious and your palms start to sweat. You furiously try and dry them as the doors open into what looked to be someone’s home.

And that someone was straight in front of you.

“Who are you?” She was an older woman with short, salt-and-pepper hair and a fitted pantsuit.

“Uh...” You hear the elevator doors close behind you. There’s no escaping now.

“Well? I don’t have all day, you know.”

“My name is (Y/) (L/N)... I think my husband works for you.” One of her eyebrows raised. “Uh, he said that in case of emergency that I come here...” You pull out the piece of paper and she takes it. “I don’t really have anything urgent, but he’s unusually late in checking in and I-”

“Good lord.” She muttered furiously after scanning the note and crushes it.

“Pardon?” You ask, somewhat alarmed by the unexpected response.

“Please, have a seat.” She waves to a chair and you comply.

“Do you know-”

“Your husband? Yes. He’s one of my men.”

“Men?”

“...Well I can see that that fool did follow my order for once, not that it makes much difference...”

“I’m not sure I understand...”

“Normally, you wouldn’t have to.” She sits down across from you. “What is it that Bond told you about his job?”

“...Well, he’s one of those people who are the intermediaries between large company deals...?”

“Close. In reality, he’s the exact opposite.”

“I don’t-”

“Bond is an agent trained in the art of infiltration in order to stop certain kinds of ...businesses from expanding more than they already have. In short, your... husband... is an international spy.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“But that is not the issue here.” She stares at you with eagle eyes. “The issue is this address. Did Bond give it to you?”

“Yes!” You squeak - to say you’re terrified would be an understatement. “He said to come here in case of an emergency while he wasn’t home.”

“And the emergency is?”

“It’s been over a week since he last called. He promised that he would contact me once the week ended. He’s five days late. He’s never late for that long!”

“Right.” She rests her head in the palm of her hand as if she were dealing with some trivial issue. “Has anyone seen this address or followed you here?”

“No one has seen it and I don’t think so?”

“You don’t think so or you don’t know?” She snaps, but her face softens after seeing the look on your face. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Do you - do you know where James is?”

"...We know just as much as yourself. It seems the only thing that man is good for is causing me trouble.” She was standing up again and pacing.

“Is there anything I can do to help? I have this awful feeling that something happened!”

“I am afraid not. We are already doing all we can.” She sighs. “...Did he tell you anything last time he contacted you?”

“He said he was going to a ski resort with a client in the Alps...”

“Nothing else?”

“Not that I can remember.” She takes a good look at you, then turns away.

“We were told the same. Any longer and we’ll may have to consider him MIA.”

“MIA?” You feel slightly faint. “Is - is he in danger?”

“If he wasn’t he wouldn’t be doing his job.” You slump back into your seat, unsure of how to take all this information in. Not only has your husband lied to you about his profession, but that profession is putting him in danger!

“Is there anything you can tell me?” You start fiddling with your hands. “I don’t think I caught your name...”

“That would be because I didn’t tell it to you. You may call me M.”

“Right.” You nod awkwardly. “Seeing as all this is top secret and I’m-”

“A civilian.”

“...What’s going to happen to me?”

“That would be for upper management to decide. Though it shouldn’t be anything too harmful. Bond was the one who brought you into this, after all.”

“Will he be fired?” Alarm rushes through you at the thought.

“Oh no,” M looks at you with surprise. “James has done much worse than this. They’ll just give him a light spanking and send him off. He’s too good to be let go of.” She looks at you with a penetrating gaze. “Too damn good.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” You smile awkwardly. “In all honesty, this whole situation is a bit much for me.”

“I can imagine.”

“Does this happen with James often?”

“Missing a check-in or finding out about secret marriages?”

“Missing check-ins?”

“Yes, yes it does. Although it seems as though he contacts you more than us. It’s been two weeks since he last called in. It does seem like he’s taking longer than usual...”

---

Out of supposed security concerns, M told you to stay with her until James comes back. As a compromise, she sent some people to keep surveillance in your neighborhood and on your flat. Of course, this meant a couple of days (or more) living with this mysterious woman. M never talked unless necessary and most certainly did not bring her work home. While she trusts you enough in her home, she cannot afford anything leaking out, no matter how harmless.

That being said, she did try to update you on any word (or lack thereof) from your husband. The more time past, the more anxious you became. You could no longer sleep and M would find you in your room just staring at the ceiling. You had confided in her just once about how much you were missing him when you had one too many glasses of wine. Despite your loneliness, you really did try and keep strong. If the two of you were eating together, you’d ask her questions about your husband’s job. M couldn’t answer more than half of them, but did try to help shed some light on this new side of James.

She couldn’t go into a lot of details, both due to how classified it all was, but because she thought that James should be the one to explain everything.

On the third day, M had informed you that James had sent a message. It was short and didn’t disclose his whereabouts, but you were so relieved that your knees just about gave out from underneath you.

He was safe.

He was safe and that was all that mattered to you. Several more days would pass before you’d be reunited.

---

It was the dead of night and, like usual, you couldn’t sleep. M wasn’t home - she said that she would be late - so you had eaten by yourself. While her suite is beautiful, you can’t help but wish that you were home in your little flat. You used to be annoyed about how much the building settled or your neighbors snoring during the night. Now, the lack of noise unsettles you. However, every noise you do happen to hear makes the hairs on your arms stick up.

Especially when you hear the elevator open awfully early in the night.

Somehow, you knew that it wasn’t M. Maybe it was because you didn’t hear her toss her handbag on one of the chairs or that her usual heels didn’t sound like they should. Either way, you had to make sure that everything was okay. You quietly get out of the bed and grab an empty wine bottle.

Carefully, you slowly twist the doorknob to ease the door open by just a crack. You can just make out a figure that was much bigger than M shuffling around her desk. Unsure of what to do and not wanting to blow your cover immediately, you stay right where you are. He - for it was most definitely a man - straightened himself out and proceeded to make himself comfortable in one her chairs with his back towards you.

Why would a burglar make himself at home?

As he begins to pour himself a glass, you gently open the door wide enough that you could slip through it. You bless your lucky starts that it doesn’t squeak.

One, two, three, four steps forward when suddenly two unexpected things happen at the same time.

The man had gotten up, spun around and pointed a gun at your head.

The elevator doors open to reveal M.

“Good heavens! What is happening?” You watch M hurry in, throwing her bag on a chair. “Bond! Put the gun down!” Your head snaps back around. The look of surprise and alarm was reflected in your husband’s bright blue eyes. You drop the bottle and it shatters. His gun was swiftly tossed aside.

“James.” You choke back a sob as you run into his arms. He hugs back just as fiercely.

“(Y/N).” He softly tucks your head into his shoulder and seems to relax in your arms.

“I missed you.”

“I know.”

“While this is awfully touching, you have a lot of explaining to do, Bond.” James lifts his head when he hears M say his name.

“Ah. Yes. I forgot you were here.” You didn’t need to see M’s face to know the look of annoyance she was most likely sporting.

“Just sit down.” M snaps, but you can tell that it’s half-hearted. James lets go of you, but grabs your hand as he sinks down into the couch. You curl up on his side, his hand still in yours.

You would never know what it was that the two talked about after that because you had fallen asleep as soon as your head settled on his shoulder.

When you woke up, it was bright out and you were on the couch. Your pillow shifts, making you do a double take. Your pillow was in fact an arm. You shift to your other side and find yourself face to face with your husband’s sleeping face. Gently, you caress his face then plant a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s hardly what I would call a good afternoon kiss.” James smirks, suddenly wide awake.

“Afternoon?”

“It’s just after one.” He gently pulls you closer to him. “Now, don’t make me wait more than I already have...”

“That makes two of us, doesn’t it-” You kiss him squarely on the mouth then pull back - much to his obvious displeasure. “-Mr. Secret Agent?”

Needless to say, the two of you would take the time to talk things out and bring everything (that’s not classified information) into the light.

I tried really hard with this one, so I hope you all enjoyed it! I kinda feel like the start and the end were rushed... I plan on doing some Jake Lonergan headcanons this week, so that will be fun. Please feel free to send me ideas or requests! It might take a while for me to finish it, but I’ll try my best!

- Simpy

#james bond x reader #james bond #x reader #daniel craig #007 #M #established couple #married couple #top secret #minor angst #fluff #request #angst to fluff #kisses #romance #fanfic #fanfiction #ian fleming #everyone is welcome

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ssa-sugar-tits · 4 years ago

Text

queen of hearts // chapter four

summary: y/n y/l/n was crushed when she found out about maeve donovan. heartbroken, she left her entire life behind. what happens when she becomes the most prolific serial killer the bau has ever seen?

prologue + series masterlist & taglist

content warnings: swearing, angst, implied/mentioned sex, restraints, blood, head injury, kidnap/hostage, alcohol, gunshot, murder

a/n: reader is a psychotic murderer. this is purely a work of fiction and if you or someone you know are experiencing homicidal urges, seek professional help immediately.

The room was filled with tension and an overwhelming sense of despair but no one said a word. No more hellish arguing, no irritatingly random facts, not even discussion to solve the case. Everyone worked on their angle of the case and despite the fact that no one would dare admit it, they all somewhat hoped that Y/N wouldn't be caught. Some hoped more than others but deep down they all felt a twinge of it. JJ walked into the room and spoke, startling the team and ripping them away from their thoughts and guilt.

"I've given a picture of her to the media, it's being circulated."

It pained her-- almost physically-- to have to hand over a picture of someone who'd been like family for so many goddamn years. She felt that she was betraying Y/N and that made her feel indescribably horrible.

"Now what? We just wait?" Morgan seemed to be the only one that really did want to stop her. Maybe he was angry that he hadn't seen the signs. Maybe he was angry that his best friend had just... left. Maybe he was angry that she lost herself so much. Maybe he blamed himself.

"What else is there to do Derek? Call me bad at my job- Hell, call all of us bad at our jobs but we can't profile her. Admit it, we're all biased. Too biased to think straight but there's no way we can give this case to another unit." Emily had always been so close to Y/N and was able to open up to her. Something she couldn't bring herself to do with most people. But you weren't most people, were you? Even with what Y/N could be doing, Emily doesn't have it in her to hate her. The sadness she was feeling must have shown because JJ squeezed Emily's hand and gave her a weak smile. And for the millionth fucking time, everyone stayed silent. Not even Spencer was saying anything and he is not the type to stay quiet this long. Believe it or not, that was actually one of the things Y/N had loved about him. Everyone rolled their eyes or cut him off but she loved to listen to him ramble. To everyone's surprise, she was always genuinely interested in what he had to say and that was one of the first things that made him fall in love with her. She never invalidated him or called him strange. Sometimes when she had a nightmare or experienced anxiety she'd even ask him talk to her about a random topic so she could focus on his voice until she calmed down.

"Your voice is like... honey. In my ears." Spencer wanted to scream with emotional torture building up as he remembered how she'd laughed when she said that and how he'd had smiled at her with nothing but adoration and love.

"That seems unsanitary Y/N."

"You're such a smartass."

"Am I?"

"Definitely. But it's ok. I love that about you. I love you."

"I love you too."

She'd planted a sweet kiss on his lips before laying her head on his lap and listening to the rest of his topic rant. Still basking in the memory of Y/N, a sharp pain entered his hand and he realized he'd dug his crescent nails into the palm of his hand. And in that moment, he couldn't help but think about how much he'd love to be holding her hand right now.

"Guys!"

They all turned to Garcia, the source of the exclaim, who was walking in with Hotch.

"A bartender downtown says he just saw a woman matching Y/N's description leave with another man."

"She's chosen another victim? Here?" Rossi asked with confusion written on his face. "Up until now she's only killed 2 people per state and knowing the BAU has been called in, why is she staying here?"

JJ stepped in,

"This place is special to her, she has history here. Y/N must have an endgame but what is it?"

"The profile says she'll take as many people as she can with her. Probably suicide by cop."

Derek had accepted the situation. So why did that hurt to say?

"Rossi will go to the bar and talk to witnesses. Reid and Prentiss, stay here with Garcia. JJ and Morgan, PD is surveilling the radius around the bar and setting up roadblocks, come with me to help them."

"There's no way I'm staying here." Spencer objected.

Stay here and do nothing? Like hell.

"Neither am I, what the hell Hotch?"

"Reid, Prentiss that's an order. You're not going."

They both started to argue again but Hotch had already left. JJ and Derek followed and Rossi stood up with to leave for the bar. Apologetic looks were shot at Spencer and Emily because they all know why they have to stay behind. They're the two closest to her, the two that wouldn't be able to keep their emotions from affecting them on the field. And with that, off they all went.

Y/N's POV

The second you get to his hotel room, your lips crash against the handsome stranger. Your next victim. He pushes you against the wall and you moan loudly. His hands roam your body and you pull back.

"Hey... Go lie on the bed and wait for me."

Panting and staring at you with lust, he complies. Of course he does.

For God's sake. This man doesn't even know your name.

To be fair, Spence didn't even know Maeve's last name. And he still chose her.

You walk over to the eager man on the bed. Your hot breath on his neck, you lean close and whisper to him.

"We're going to do things my way."

He moans and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at him in disgust.

"Yes ma'am."

Taking out a rope, you tie him up and you know he thinks you're just a kinky slut. That's what they all see, isnt it? Suddenly something roars inside of you. Forgetting your usual routine, you pick up the lamp on the bedside table and smash it against him. Crimson stains the bed and you drop it, shocked by yourself. Yes, you've done worse. But it isn't the act that's sending regret and nausea through your body, it's that you're devolving. You're losing control.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Starting to panic, you take the unconscious man and check for a pulse. He's still alive.

Giving him a shower (much to your disdain) and change of clothes, you put his arm over your shoulder and walk out of the room giggling as you pass one of the housekeepers.

"Baby, you're such a lightweight! Let's get you out of here."

The housekeeper barely gives you a second glace but when she enters the room of the man you've taken, she starts to scream and you know you're running out of time.

Run. Drag him. Just hurry the hell up.

Finally at his car, you take him to the small studio you own downtown. No one can find you here. It's been yours for nearly a decade and you aren't stupid enough to have told anyone about it or put it under your name. Granted, you'd never thought you'd have to use it to hide out from the feds, it's still useful. After taking a look at the brightly colored wall in your basement, you feel a sense of sudden pain race through your veins. You used to be normal. You used to have a life.

The man is chained up, gagged, and bleeding but you can't even remember doing anything to him. What you need is numbness. They thought the other bodies were bad? Wait til they fucking see what you do with him. Pain shoots through your skull again and you wince and fall to the ground.

"Fuck. I- I need a drink." you stammer to no one in particular but yourself.

A wig and sunglasses make you look different enough from the woman being circulated to take the bus to a nearby gas station. Walking down the liquor aisle of the store, you hum a song to yourself and let the AC blow on your skin. Vision blurred, you bite your lip and taste the unmistakable strong metallic taste of your own blood. Still humming that fucking song. The song you'd danced to with Spencer in your living room before you'd made love for the first time.

"You cannot be serious!"

"Y/N! I can't dance."

"Oh come on. How bad can you be? Seriously, the songs going to end and it'll be too late."

"Yes, that's what I'm hoping for."

"Psh. Don't tell me Doctor Reid is scared to sway around a little."

"Shut up."

"Make me." you laughed.

With one playful look, you dared him to shut you up in the most passionate, sensual way he could. But instead he put his warm hands on your hips and swayed to the song. You melted into his touch and your breaths synced as you laid your head on his chest. His heart beat was steady and calming. One hand reached for yours and intertwined before twirling you and pulling you back in to dance. He'd held you until it was over and brought your chin up to his face. The kiss was so intense, so loving. He tilted his head and pulled you tighter to get as close as he could to you. His tongue met yours and your mouths bathed in each other's taste. Running a hand through your hair, you'd started to unbutton his shirt. He'd been taken aback at first but then picked you up and placed you in the bedroom ever so softly. Placing gentle kisses all over each other's bodies and undressing for the other, you made raw, breathtaking love for the first of many times.

"Hey lady! Get out of the way!"

"W-What?..." You tremble and realize you're crying on the floor of the aisle.

"I said get out of the damn way, some of us got places to be."

The man is clearly batshit drunk. Probably here to buy his next fix. Shaking and letting yourself actually feel your emotions, you stand and use the wall to balance yourself. The man that yelled at you curses to himself as his phone rings and he picks it up.

"Hell do you want? Thought you were still mad about Andrea."

Andrea? Mad about Andrea. Another cheater. Another liar. Right? It has to be.

Before you can process what you're doing-- how irrational it is-- the gunshot rings through the store and everyone turns to see the man before you on the ground, screaming and spitting blood. A mix of a laugh and a sob escapes you and you scream.

"Everyone on the fucking ground! If I see any cellphones, I'll shoot you just like this dickhead. Got it?"

Frightened people drop to the ground and you start to yell, incoherent bullshit again. You smash the freezer glass behind you and open an expensive bottle of bourbon.

You practically whimper having to take deep gasps in between words, but in a somehow still confident, fearless tone.

"Now let's have some fucking fun."

But what you didn't know was that the cashier in the front had sent a text 5 minutes earlier.

Call 911! The girl from the news, the Queen of Hearts. She's in the store.

What you didn't know was that the woman that recieved the text had called immediately.

911, what's your emergency?

What you didn't know was that the BAU was on their way.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

It’s You and Me - Chapter 15

It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count: 2165

Rating: E

Warnings: action, canon typical violence, mentions of past child sexual abuse

Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back. Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you. For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.

When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.

Fifteen years later he tracks you down. Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father. Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?

A series told in flashbacks and current day.

Chapter 15: Now

“Alright, alright,” Clint said, holding his three kids at once. “I’ll be back soon enough. I promise.”

“We don’t want you to go,” Lila whined.

“I know, sweetheart,” Clint soothed. “But there are a bunch of kids just like you that are in trouble right now, and I gotta go help them. We’ll be back in a day or two. I promise.”

Clint’s words of reassurance seemed to only make the kids cling to him even tighter. You couldn’t blame them really - if you’d had a parent that had given half a damn about you, and you knew how easy it was to lose that, you wouldn’t want to let them go either.

“I’ll protect him,” you said. “Anyone who tries to hurt your dad will have to get through me first.”

“Yeah, and she’s really tough. Plus your Auntie Nat will be there. So will Auntie Wanda, and Uncle Steve,” Clint assured them. “I’ll be home soon, and Ebony’s gonna take really good care of you.”

“That’s right,” Ebony agreed. “I will. Plus, because you’re dad’s not here, I can give you as much candy as I want.”

Cooper and Lila reluctantly pulled away but when Ebony went to take Nate, he wailed and clung to Clint.

“Come on now, bud,” Clint soothed. “I need you to be super brave, and someone needs to take care of Jasper. You know he likes you best.”

Nate looked up and furrowed his brow. “Weally?”

“Yeah, really,” you agreed. “I think he likes you even more than he likes me.”

Nate reluctantly let himself be taken by Ebony and Clint quickly kissed the kids goodbye. “This is really just a ‘go-in and arrest them’ thing,” Clint said to Ebony. It was something he’d already told her three times, but she let him repeat it. “Couple of days max. I’ll call if I can but you can always call Pepper for a status report if you need to.”

“I know, I know,” Ebony said. “Get out. I’ve got this.”

He smiled at her and patted Lucky before heading out with you. “Fuck, that does not get easier.”

“Yeah, well, they’re worried about you,” you said, taking his hand as the two of you descended the stairs.

“It was better when Laura was alive,” he said. “They never loved me leaving, but there’d just be some tears. Not this ‘clinging to me’ thing.”

“Well,” you said. “The older two have lost two parents now, right? Probably they’ve started thinking they’ll lose everyone.”

Clint stopped dead in the stairwell and looked back up the stairs. “Fuck,” he cursed.

You took a few more steps before the tug of his hand made you realize that he wasn’t walking with you anymore. “What? You didn’t realize that?”

“I mean -” he shrugged his shoulders and started walking again. “I guess part of me did. I knew it was separation anxiety because they’d lost her. But I guess I didn’t think that this was becoming a theme for them.”

“You can stay behind if you want,” you said. “I am sure the rest of us can handle it.”

Clint shook his head. “No,” he said. “As much as I hate it, Jacques was one of my father figures. I hate him - and I also kind of love him. I need to see this out to the end.”

You nodded. You knew exactly how he felt. This was a long time in the making and you wanted to be there to take him down so you could have closure too.

When the two of you stepped out onto the street a van pulled up beside you and the back door slid open. You and Clint jumped in and squeezed into a chair next to Bucky. “How far do we have to go?” Clint asked.

“I’d say a three or four hour drive. Depending on traffic,” Steve said.

“We’re not taking the Quinn?”

“We didn’t want to give them a chance to spot us coming,” Steve said. “The whole reason Swordsman keeps getting away from us is because he’s always one step ahead. Tony and Sam are going to fly in once we get there.”

Clint nodded and shifted in his chair, pushing you against Bucky a little more. “Hey, bird,” Bucky snarked. “Wanna not spread out so much, we have a long fuckin’ drive.”

“Yeah?” Clint teased. “How about I do this instead.”

He leaned into you like he was going to kiss you. You burst out laughing and pulled away from him, pushing further against Bucky. “Get off me, you idiot!” You squealed.

“Steve, you think I can drive?” Bucky deadpanned as he pushed you both off of him.

It was dark by the time the van pulled up down the street from the large, yet run-down Queen Anne house that stood at the top of the hill, and everyone in the van was getting antsy. It was the kind of house that kids would say a witch owned. The yard was overgrown and brown, and the paint was all peeling from the timber of the house. There was a large, rusty gate out the front and the walls that surrounded it were starting to crumble. Somehow, despite never really knowing Jacques to have lived in a house, this was exactly the kind of place you could see him in.

You stretched a little as you stepped out of the back of the van, and Steve gathered you all into a huddle.

“From what we can tell, his security is top of the line, so don’t let the appearance fool you,” Steve said. “Tread lightly, stay in the shadow. He has a good view of the entire area, and if he’s alerted they’re all going to run. You four, he said pointing to you, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint split up. I want you to enter unseen, and block off the exits. The rest of us will follow on when you give the signal. Wanda, do your best to keep track of who’s in the building so we don’t lose anyone.”

“Yes, sir,” Wanda said.

“We all know our jobs?” Steve said. When no one replied he nodded. “Then let’s go.”

You pulled your mask down and followed Natasha, Bucky, and Clint up the hill, keeping low and to the shadows. When the four of you reached the stone fence, Natasha waved you and Clint in one direction and she and Bucky went in the other.

When you reached about halfway down the wall, you found a tree that - while it didn’t hang over the fence - it was close enough that the two of you could jump over. Clint gave you a lift into the tree and you pulled him up after you. Without a word the two of you ran along the branch that got you closest to the wall, and when the branch began to sag, you leaped, somersaulting in the air and landing crouched on the ground.

Clint wasn’t far behind you, and when he was safely inside the walls, you split up. Clint continued his trip around the building, while you went straight for it.

You reached a dying hedge near the house and crouched behind it as you surveyed the building. There was a cellar door near you and a trellis that ran up the side of the tower. You knew the likelihood that both were alarmed was pretty high if what Steve said was true.

Bucky’s voice came through your comms. “Winter Soldier in position. No indication they’ve seen us.”

“Black Widow in position,” Natasha responded. “Awaiting orders.”

“Sugar Snap in position,” you echoed, remaining hidden in your spot and gazing over the house, looking to see if anyone seemed clued into your position. There was movement in the house, but nothing that seemed to indicate that anyone was alarmed.

“Hang on, hang on…” Clint said, slightly breathlessly. “Okay, Hawkeye in position.”

“Alright, we’re at the gate,” Steve said. “Tony? Sam? You ready?”

“When you are, Cap,” Sam responded.

“Yeah, hurry it along,” Tony added. “I want to go back to binging the Mandalorian.”

“Alright, team one, enter the building,” Steve said. “Get as far in as you can go before tripping the alarms.”

You took off from your hiding spot, scaling the lattice until you reached the top window on the tower. Using your sword you forced the window open, immediately setting off the alarms. You ignored them, jumping through the window. There was no one in the room, but there were a lot of computers, and on the table were photos of girls in compromising positions. Your blood boiled seeing them, remembering back to when it was you being manipulated by the man who had said you’d be safe.

The sound of running echoed in the hall outside and you pulled your sword, readying yourself as the door burst open.

Jacques Duquesne hadn’t changed a lot in the past 18 years. He was older, yes. But aside from a few more lines on his face, and grey in his hair, but he still looked as fit as he ever had. “Well, well, well,” he said, stopping short in front of you and pulling his own sword from its sheath. “You’re all grown up. Zelda said you were working with the Avengers now.”

“That’s right,” you said. “And you are now going to go to prison for a very long time.”

He raised his sword. “That’s adorable. You think you’re going to get payback for something you agreed to willingly?”

“I was a kid!” You shouted and charged at him.

He deflected you easily. Your rage getting the better of you. You spun around and attacked him again, and he shoved you aside.

“You really are so cute, ma petite,” Jacques taunted. “Barton taught you with the blade, but he never was as good as me.”

He swung at you and knocked the blade to the side, but he pushed back, shoving your blade against you. He was stronger than you, and you couldn’t match the brute force he was putting behind the attack. You flipped backward and he swung the blade at you. You watched it in slow motion as the blade swung under you and put your foot on the flat of the blade, balancing on it even as it moved. You flipped back again and kicked him in the jaw, sending him reeling.

As you landed on the ground - sword at the ready - Jacques recovered, wiping the blood from his lip. “I’m going to make you pay for that, you little bitch.”

“Come get it,” you hissed.

He swung at you, and you countered. He swung again quickly, and each strike he made, you parried. He was stronger and the better swordsman, but you were more agile and your need to beat him was greater. You started to back him out into the hall, adrenaline spurring you on even as your arm began to tire.

You reached the stairwell, and Jacques cried out and spun, a spray of blood splattering your face even before you were even sure what had happened. Jaques tripped and stumbled down the stairs and as he dropped from your line of sight, you saw Clint with his bow drawn and everything clicked into place. Clint had shot him.

You jumped down the stairs after the swordsman and knocked him from his feet. He landed on his back, and the arrow that had punctured his shoulder, pushed through it more, making him cry out. You kicked his sword away and held your blade to his throat. “Goodbye, Jacques,” you said, looking down into his eyes - revenge the only thing driving you.

“Sugar!” Clint yelled.

You turned and narrowed your eyes at him. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Clint approached you slowly like you were a wild animal ready to lash out. “Because… you are better than him.” He put his hand on your arm and looked you in the eye. You could hear fighting in the rest of the building and you were vaguely aware that Steve was standing at the bottom of the stairs with his shield at the ready. “Don’t let him pull you down to his level. Not again.”

You looked back down at Jacques. He was breathing heavily, but smirking at you - daring you to do something. You took a deep breath, weighing your options. For a moment it felt like both things were happening at the same time. You were killing him and you weren’t. He was dead and he was alive. Schroedinger’s cat in real-time. You swung your sword away and Clint pulled you into his arms. Steve moved quickly, pinning Jacques to the ground, putting him in handcuffs.

“You and me, sugar,” Clint whispered.

You nodded and sagged against him as the adrenaline left your system. You knew he was right. You’d separated before because you’d both chosen different paths. Now, you were choosing the same one, and you wouldn’t let anything come between you again.

// NEXT

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #it's you and me

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captain039 · 4 years ago

Text

Drink your fill PT4

Dracula x reader

From:Dracula BBC version

Warnings: Gore, vampire things, mentions of religious things, sexual, intimacy, anxiety, depression, fluffy things used to calm anxiety. age gap, slow burnish

This will be after he finds out he’s not scared to sunlight blah blah, he just doesn’t die.

Artistic reader

Last Chapter

You woke again a sigh leaving your lips. Your window was once open again and you frowned. Jake was still asleep, snoring and mumbling. It was still pretty dark outside. You got up looked out your window before closing it and locking it. You shut the curtains tightly and cuddled back up to the warmth of your bed. Jake sensed you and mumbled rolling over and gripping the pillow in the middle tightly. His hand found your arm which made you jump but you smiled closing your eyes. He was always clingy in his sleep, more so in real life.

Jake woke up before you by the sound of your shower running. You groaned running your hands down your face before grabbing your phone. You had a good morning message from your mum.

Good morning love! Hope I didn’t wake you. Me and your dad have gone out to the shops for a while. Still one car in the garage though if you and Jake wish to go out. Love mum.

You smiled typing a reply before getting up and getting dressed quickly. You headed to the kitchen and poured some cereal before Jake joined you.

“You feel any better?” You asked and he nodded standing by you as you looked out the kitchen window and ate. He grabbed himself a bowl and poured some cereal for himself before watching with you.

“What are we staring at?” He whispered and you almost joked on your cereal.

“The existence of my front yard” you said and he nodded.

“Fair, what are we gonna do today seeing as Mumma isn’t here?” He grinned and you rolled your eyes. Your mum and dad were pretty much his mum and dad too.

“I don’t know?” You shrugged and he sighed.

“You’re the man in this relationship” you said and he raised an eyebrow.

“Shall we go down the main street?” You said and he nodded.

“Whose the man now” he grinned finishing up and going to your room. You rolled your eyes finishing also and laying your bowls in the sink before going to grab your shoes also.

You both drove down the street and parked. You guys walked up one way and went into the little shops on the side.

“Come here!” Jake said finding the candle section. You chuckled following him and sniffed the candle he held out.

“Oh my god” you sighed taking another deep breath.

“I know right” he sniffed it too sighing.

“I have ten candles though” he sighed placing it back making you chuckle.

“Oh what about this one?” You and Jake spent at least half hour sniffing candles before you dragged him out the store before he could waste anymore money.

“Hey look hoodies!” You said getting excited and going inside the clothes shop. They had Starwars, DC and Marvel on them.

“Don’t you have a million Starwars hoodies” he said and you awed at little Grogu on the front of one.

“Look” you whined and he sighed.

“It’s fifty dollars” you sucked in a breath placed it down gave it one last pat and left rather quickly.

“I’m actually considering becoming a stripper so I can just buy stupid things” you said and Jake laughed.

“I’ll join you” he chuckled.

“Well that’s certainly a surprise” Jake said while you looked at your phone and hummed. You followed his gaze freezing at the sight of Mr Dracula.

“Oh god” you said pushing Jake into the closest shop and hiding.

“Woah!” Jake said as he stumbled with you.

“Hey? What’s wrong?” He chuckled as you peeked out the window and saw him talking to someone.

“Ok he didn’t see us” you sighed the cashier giving you an odd look.

“Why’re we hiding from him?” Jake quizzed.

“Because!” You snapped. Because you have been having dreams about him and do not want to look him in the eyes or speak to him.

“We see him on Monday remember?” He added.

“Yes! yes! Besides the point I’ll just, hit myself with a car” you groaned leaning against the wall as Dracula stopped talking.

“Hit yourself with a car? Isn’t it run into a car?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Yes! Who cares about that what matters is he’s literally walking this why he can smell me!” You hissed and he laughed.

“I mean you didn’t shower this morning” he said and you glared.

“Because you hogged it! And besides I put deodorant on” you whispered peeking again as his figure got closer.

“I’m so dead” you said his eyes meeting yours. You froze a smile gracing his lips as you disappeared around the wall.

“He saw me” you said and Jake just laughed.

“Of course he saw you, you aren’t subtle” Jake laughed going outside to meet the man.

“Mr Dracula” Jake said and you groaned as they began to talk.

“Ah Jake? Isn’t it?” The man said and your friend nodded.

“Y/n is here too” he looked to you and you cursed him and walked to them.

“I saw you through the window” Dracula chuckled lightly as you flushed and wished the ground would swallow you up.

“Yes I was looking at” you glanced back realising it was baby clothes.

“Baby clothes?” Dracula said and you gulped.

“My- uh” you cursed everything as the man watched you with a smirk.

“Not for me- no, my niece she’s having a birthday soon” you lied and heard Jake struggle a laugh.

“Oh? How old?” The man asked an amused look on his face.

“3 next week” you lied again your grave getting deeper and deeper.

“Ah yes” he said and you nodded. Jake was holding in his laughter and you stomped his foot slightly making him wince.

“We should get going- meeting some friends for lunch” you said and Dracula nodded.

“Well I won’t keep you, enjoy your day” he smiled as you nodded giving a small wave and grabbing Jake and dragging him. Jake burst out laughing as you speed walked away grumbling to yourself.

“Your niece?” He laughed as he leant against the closest wall.

“You don’t have a niece” he continued his outburst making you sigh.

“I know! I panicked!” You huffed arms crossed over your chest. He chuckled wrapping his arms around your shoulders and swaying you.

“Ah you’re too cute, also what friends?” He looked down at you and grinned.

“My imaginary friends Bob and Tim” you said and he chuckled. A smile came to your lips as he let you go and you both continued walking.

You did get lunch, then went to some more shops, bought some food, some other small items you didn’t really need like this fat bird statue, but it was adorable. Back home you both collapsed on your bed, a bag of snacks on your side table.

“Well that’s my exercise for the year” he groaned going on his phone.

“Agreed” you sighed going onto yours.

“Can’t believe we saw Mr D” he grinned and you raised an eyebrow.

“Mr D?” You questioned and he nodded.

“You just dug a 12 foot grave honey” he said and you groaned wishing to never remember that.

Your patents came back finally with some take away. You and Jake ate in the lounge with them and talked about your day and theirs before heading to bed late.

You sighed hugging your pillow as you closed your eyes exhausted.

“Do you really have a niece?” You jumped at the voice and turned to the count. You were both out in the shopping street again.

“No” you said and he chuckled.

“Your heart was racing my dear” he said coming closer and holding his arm out.

“Yes well I got scared” you took and you both walked down the path.

“You don’t have to lie to me” he said and you sighed head down.

“I know, I panicked and it’s just been a hectic past few days” you shrugged.

“What’s happened?” He asked a slight frown on his brow.

“Oh, nothing like that I just meant, you know” you mumbled flushing.

“Me?” He said and you nodded. You heard him chuckle softly which made you flush more.

“You’re a precious thing” he said as you both walked into a small cafe.

“Are you hungry?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Thirsty though” you said and he grinned.

“As am I” he said pulling out a seat for you. You sat in it and he pushed you in before taking the one across from you.

You ordered your favourite smoothie while his order was unknown. Yours came out, In a milkshake glass with a straw. His came out in a wine glass, it looked like wine but the thickness was strange.

“So what did you buy today?” He asked taking a sip.

“Just things, Jake bought some candles as did I, a few shirts, some snacks, oh! This fat little bird statue it was adorable” you smiled taking a sip and moaning softly at the taste.

“A fat little bird?” He questioned and you nodded a little embarrassed.

“Don’t flush my dear, I think it was rather cute” he smiled at you and you flushed harder.

“I just liked it” you shrugged talking about the bird before taking another sip. You sighed contently having more.

“Taste good?” He asked slight grin on his face.

“Yes, yours?” You nodded and he sighed laying the glass down.

“Not the sweetest I’m afraid” he said licking his lips and staring at you. Your heart thumped in your chest as your cheeks burned again. You ignored the comment, glanced to the cup before looking at the table and drinking.

“So after your shopping what did you do?” He asked head tilted to the side slightly.

“Went home, mum and dad came and brought takeaway so we ate in the lounge and told each other about our day, had some snacks and then went to bed” you shrugged.

“I’m not exciting” you sighed head freezing a little.

“You are quite intriguing my dear do not worry” he said smoothly with a grin.

“Why’re you here?” You asked suddenly the noise around you stopping.

“You’re thinking of me” he said stirring his finger in the glass before sucking the substance off. You watched him mouth slight ajar and heat going straight between your legs.

“I- besides that, why’re you here, it’s like you’re here, here” you said cupping your hands in your lap.

“You’re the perfect fruit” he said eyes on you.

“I don’t understand” you pressed as your body stood, the table disappeared and your scenery changed.

“Why’re we in my room?” You asked glancing to your bed and seeing your body.

“Usually to make people dream I must feed on them” you frowned at his words as he stood close behind you.

“But you, you’re special, you let me in your mind, your dreams, you long for me dear” he whispered.

“I met you two days ago! I barely know you” you stepped away from him and he gave a frown.

“I don’t long for a man I just met” you scoffed crossing your arms.

“Maybe your mind doesn’t but your heart and blood do” you frowned at those words.

“One day you’ll see” he whispered in your ear before he backed away. You froze his eyes going red as he showed his fangs and snarled.

You shot up panting, you gripped your blanket before kicking it off. Your heart pounded and you were covered in sweat you looked to your room seeing nobody, the window was still closed and no sign of him. You held a hand over your heart wondering if this truely was a Count Dracula haunting your dreams. Why you? You weren’t special, just a normal young adult going to University. Why was he so intrigued by you?

Next Chapter

#x reader #fanfic #Dracula bbc #Dracula bbc x reader #Dracula x reader #vampires #Count Dracula

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wordsfromthesol · 5 years ago

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You Confuse Pity with Love

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader Summary: The evolving relationship between you and Damian after you approach him at an annual charity ball. Warnings: Minor injuries, cursing Word Count: 1.9k Taglist: @zphilophobiaz

The annual charity ball was an event you had always been forced to go to. You had to keep up the façade that your family had spent years cultivating. Not that you could blame them, it was a mask that all of the Gotham elite wore. You gallivanted around, searching for something to entertain yourself when your eyes landed on Damian Wayne. The youngest of the prominent Wayne family and the only biological son of Bruce Wayne. Your eyes narrowed as a devious expression graced your features.

"Damian Wayne!" You called out, catching his attention. "Please tell me you are as miserable as I." You commented as you approached the unsuspecting bachelor.

"I would not know. Though I get no pleasure from events such as this. It is simply a means to an end."

"How debonair of you." You twirled around him, "I say we play a game."

"Game?" Damian's interested piqued.

"First person to get the watch of…" your eyes searched the crowd for an unsuspecting party-goer. "That guy, wins."

"This is childish." Damian scoffed as he rose to participate in your ill-conceived game.

"I think you're just afraid you'll lose." You winked at him before making a beeline for the chosen victim.

You had just ordered your coffee when you noticed a familiar face staring at you from across the café. "What, are you stalking me now?"

"Perhaps you are the one stalking me. I believe I was here first."

"Yeah, but this is my favorite place. And the closest coffee shop to my apartment." Damian stared blankly at back at you. "You're a Wayne, you could've figured that out." You scoffed at him, knowing full well that the Wayne's basically ran Gotham City.

"This is the closest coffee shop to my apartment as well. You are a Y/L/N. You could have figured that out." A faint smile donned his lips as he threw your words back at you.

"Y/N!" The barista screamed from the counter, saving you from trying to come up with a rebuttal. Grabbing your drink, you walked over to a nearby table and pulled out your laptop. You attempted to ignore the youngest Wayne heir, but you found your eyes constantly wandering towards him. An hour had passed and you were not getting nearly as much work done as you had hoped, thanks to your lingering stare at a certain someone. You glanced in his direction again, only to snap back to your laptop screen when your eyes met his.

Another hour passed and you began to pack up your things, realizing you would have to retire elsewhere if you hoped to get any work done. You walked over to his table, "I'll be here again tomorrow at 9, if you feel like stalking me more." You spun on your heel and hastily trotted out the door, screaming at yourself for being so brazen.

You stepped into the coffee shop the next day and stopped dead in your tracks as you saw Damian Wayne there yet again. Really you shouldn't be surprised, you did tell him exactly when you would be there. You tried your best to ignore him again, getting your coffee and heading over to an empty nearby table. As soon as you pulled your laptop from its bag, you looked up to see Damian pulling the chair out across from you. You gave him a faint smile before turning your attention back to your work. He didn't say anything, just stared at you for almost an hour before getting up.

"See you tomorrow." Damian mumbled the words as he retreated out the door.

"What the fuck…" you whispered to yourself once he left.

Damian was already at the coffee shop, yet again, when you arrived in the morning. This time you sat down across from him, ignoring the laptop you brought with you. "So, what's your deal?" The question slipped from your lips before you had realized what you had said.

"My deal? I assume you are asking why I keep seeking your companionship." You furrowed your brows at his odd vernacular, but nodded your head to assure him he understood your question. "You seemed entertaining at the charity ball. Then again during our first encounter here. My brothers keep hassling me to find friends outside of our family."

"Aw," your hand shot up to your chest. "And you want that friend to me?"

Damian shrugged, "You seem to be the least irritating person near my age that I have discovered thus far."

"Wow, the compliments just keep coming. I'm honored." You chuckled as you stood up to go order a drink.

"Where are you going?" Damian looked almost hurt that you were already leaving.

"Calm down, I'm only getting a coffee. Want something?"

The next few months went by and the two of you began hanging out outside of the coffee shop. This boy you had innocently approached at a charity ball had turned into your best friend. You weren't sure when it even happened. But there the two of you were, staring at the giraffes at the zoo, when you glanced over at him and commented, "I just really want to ride one."

"You want to ride a giraffe…" Damian auspiciously met your gaze.

"Yeah." The word resulted in an eruption of laughter from your present company. You turned towards him and that's when the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. This person had become your best friend. This person knew you as you truly were and accepted it.

"Why are you still staring at me?" Damian's words broke you from your trance, as you realized you had no idea how long ago he stopped laughing.

"Just zoned out for a minute, sorry."

"You okay?" Damian's face fell as a worried expression overtook his features. A smile lined your lips as you noticed the sudden change in demeanor. You took his hand in yours.

"I'm fine, I promise. Let's go look at the penguins!" You exclaimed, dragging him off down the pathway.

It was time for the annual charity ball and you knew this year's would be better than last. This year you actually knew Damian and couldn't wait to spend the entire night laughing at the Gotham elite with him. You were planning to surprise Damian at his house, so the two of you could go together. That's when everything went wrong. The car suddenly stopped, you looked around, seeing no stop sign or traffic light to warrant such an action.

"Chester?" You called out to your driver, "Is everything alright?"

"I'm sorry miss." His voice shaky, "They have my daughter."

Your eyes went wide as your mind worked out what was happening. The car door opened and two men stood before you with vile grins adorning their faces. You raced to the other side of the car, opening the door and jumping out. Before you could take off running, you felt arms wrap around you. You threw your head back, hearing the cracking of his nose.

"You little shit!" The man behind you screamed, but didn't loosen his grip. You stomped your foot down on his, causing another string of curses to spew from his lips; hisis grasp on you loosened. As you attempted to break free, a hand slapped over your mouth and nose and everything went black.

"Where is Y/N?" Damian echoed the question to anyone and everyone who knew you as he wandered around the charity ball in search of you. Finally, he spotted your parents. He raced over, but his face immediately fell when he noticed you weren't with them. "Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. A pleasure to see you again. May I inquire as to the whereabouts of your daughter?"

Their brows both furrowed as the anxiety glazed over them, "She's not here? With you? She left an hour ago, saying she was meeting up with you."

"I am going to find her." The rage bubbled inside him as he ploughed through the crowd, heading straight for Dick. "I need you," was the short phrase that left Damian's lips as he approached his brother. He didn't bother to wait, knowing Dick would follow him away from the crowded room.

"D, what's wrong?" Dick called out to his brother as they arrived at the empty balcony.

"Y/N is missing. We need to find her."

"Okay…how do you know she's missing?" Dick's expression gave away his confusion.

"Her parents said she was to arrive with me. She did not."

"Why would she come with you? She probably just said that to get out of going to this stupid thing." Dick turned to leave, thinking his brother misunderstood.

"No." Damian grabbed at his brother's arm. "She would not do that to me."

"I didn’t' realize you two were close." Damian didn't bother answering his brother, partially because he didn't have the words to describe your relationship. He had been avoiding his growing feelings for you since that day at the zoo.

It had been nearly a day, as you sat in the cold dark cell. You didn't know who these people were or what they wanted. Though you guessed it was probably just money. That's all anyone ever wanted from you. Except Damian. Your thoughts had traveled to him more and more the longer you sat there. Your hand reached up to wipe a tear trailing down your cheek. You cringed as the pain shot through you, just from the minor touch. Unfortunately, the kidnapper, whose nose you broke, sought out revenge for the injuries. You retreated further into yourself, until you heard a loud thud right outside the door. You braced yourself for the oncoming pain, but the man who opened the door donned a red costume...and was certainly not your kidnapper. The stranger fell at your side.

"Who let this happen?" You remained silent, still unsure what was happening. "How did --" his words cut off as his hand gently caressed the bruises forming at your jaw.

"I don't need your pity," you pulled back from his touch.

"You mistake pity for love." Before the bewilderment could take over, the vigilante ripped off his mask and you stared into the familiar green eyes before you.

"Am I dreaming…" you whispered as your hand reached up to touch his face. Damian leaned his head into your touch.

"No. I'm here. I will always be here." He pulled you into his chest just as another figure appeared at the door.

"Robin, we gotta go." Nightwing motioned around, as the sound of sirens began to fill the room.

"I am not leaving her." He mumbled as he pulled you slightly away from his chest, staring into your eyes. "I will never leave you."

Dick sighed, realizing he would lose this battle. "Fine. Bring her. We have to go."

Before you could protest, Damian picked you up and carried you out of your prison. "Damian," you whispered as he set you down in the back seat of the car. The look you gave him nearly broke his heart as in crawled in beside you. "I don't want to go home." Your voice hitched as you forced the words out. "I don't want to be alone." Damian motioned for Dick to drive before pulling you into his chest.

"I'm not going anywhere." Damian mumbled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

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alexandenigtscreations · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 5/7 Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel Summary:

Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev make a good team. But when a bank job goes horribly wrong, the injured pair are forced to lay low and hope the Carte Blanche can make it back to them in time.

(Note: Bold Italic script indicates Nureyev speaking Brahmese)

Chapter 5

“God Damnit Thief! Pick up your damned coms when the bloody doctor calls!"

"Again, apologies Vespa, I-" he coughed weakly into his hand, tripoding over his knees.

"Do you know how many times I had to call you? Do you?"

Nureyev sighed "Afraid not-"

"Seven ! Seven goddamn times! Thought you were dead ! Or Steel! Or captured or whatever! We're in enough crap as it is without you two adding to the pile!"

“Vespa, I-”

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, Thief; I swear to god I’ll snap your scrawny neck!"

"I'm-" he caught himself mid apology, "Understood-"

"I haven't heard Steel's voice, where is he?"

"Juno's- sleeping." Which is what he himself had been doing up to the moment Vespa rang. Stupid- a rookie mistake-

"Oh? And how sure are you of that thief?"

Nureyev wiped the sweat off of his face, "I'm sure-" it had been the first thing he checked when the beeping of the comms woke him. Even from here he could see the frantic rise and fall of Juno's chest. The lady wasn't doing well.

"Completely." He coughed harder into an elbow.

Vespa sniff on the other end of the line. Plainly suspicious, but that was nothing new.

"Fine, now you're on, we can get back to business…." There was a clatter outside, his head snapped towards it ".... temperature down, or it can cause…." and another- "gotta make sure he's in the recovery…" and another and confound it all Nureyev, focus! He shook himself back to the conversation just in time for Vespa to say "Did you get that Thief?"

"Hmm? I ugh-" he floundered. No, no he had not gotten it, and was just about to say so when he heard voices-

Lord, not now, please not now-

"Thief?"

Nureyev limped to a window. Even in the dim light of the street lamps, he could make out the security uniforms of Galactic Stars First Bank.

No-

Anxiety spiked his chest, making him queasy- or perhaps he already was-

Juno was in danger. That much, he was certain of. To say nothing about himself.

He glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping lady. Even with his features pinched and weary, he was beautiful-

And vulnerable-

Plans began to formulate in his mind. His first impulse was to find some crevice to hide in, to disappear. But even with Juno’s help, he only just managed to get him to the sofa last time- If they were found- well, he didn’t want to find out what they’d do to him.

“Thief?!”

He could lure the guards inside, dispatch them quickly and save his leg the trouble- But no, that would be too messy. To say nothing of Juno’s sensibilities, inviting guards into their hiding spot introduced more blind variables than he’d care to gamble with.

Which left luring them away- Sharp teeth worried away at his bottom lip. The injury would make things- challenging. But he didn’t have to be fast. After all, it was a fool who thought the best getaway vehicle was the fastest-

What he needed now was a strategy; and to know how many employees he’d have to contend with.

“God Damnit Ransom, the hell-”

“Apologies Vespa, I need Rita.”

“What?!”

“Ha-How many guards, am I dealing with- Rita?” Nureyev grimaced, pressing his back tight to the apartment's tinker toy brickwork. Rita’s voice was going fuzzy around the edges, as though muffled.

It had been harder than anticipated to pick his way past the patrolling guards, yet alone work his way out of the safe house.

“Two, maybe four in your sector Mista Ransom.”

“Which is it? ”

“Hugh?”

“Which is it? The- er- two, or the four?” there was a throb of pain that made his breath hitch. Along with that ever present burning, biting its way deep.

“Not sure but- are- are you alright Mista Ransom?”

“I- am a tad worse for wear. Which is why I’d like to resolve this matter quickly.”

“Ohhh, ohh right! Well Rita can help with that!”

“Thank you Rita. Now- which way to the two or four individuals?”

He allowed Rita to guide him through the quiet streets. She informed him that a dome wide lockdown had been initiated while the intruders were at large. Sure enough, when he tried a few doors in passing, they refused to yield under his touch. The citizens took the lockdown seriously.

Nureyev made sure to make plenty of noise. He needed a show if he wanted this plan to work. What worried him was that he was only half acting as he stumbled his way over the cobbles on a stiff leg. He allowed himself to knock into bins and topple items into cars. The noise he raised wasn’t loud, per say, but it was conspicuous on the quiet streets.

“Where are these guards Rita?”

“They’ll be coming up any minute Mista Ransom, you just keep your eyes Peeled! Make a right up here-” she directed “Peeled, hugh, ever consider what a weird thing it is to say. That you should keep your eyes peeled? I mean you do that and your eyes ain't gonna be good no more, least of all you. Oh! But there was this one stream where the monster worked its way out of a beautiful man! Which was such a waist but what do I know about streams? And its eyes were doing this crazy-”

“Any- minute?” he was starting to have doubts about using his own injured self as bait. He filed that deep in his mind.

“What? Oh! Yeah! You got some baddies commin’ up right behind you.”

“Behind- Are you sure?” he panted.

“Yeah of course I’m sure Mista Ransom!”

A quick turn confirmed Rita’s intel. He was indeed being followed.

They shouted something at his back, and Nureyev picked up his pace to a skip-hop, while his pursuers broke into a run. A plasma bolt shot past his ear, sending a jolt of adrenaline through. In answer he flipped over several barrels. They cascaded into the small space, messing the ally nicely. That should slow them down some. It had to.

There was no time to pay attention to the ache of his lungs or the fire coursing through his leg. Even as each step pushed him that much closer to being physically ill.

File it away, Damn you- just file it away-

He screwed his eyes shut and pushed forward. Forcing himself to keep moving, to keep breathing, to keep-

He plowed headlong into an old chain link fence with enough force to knock him to the ground with a strangled cry. The traitorous links rattled and clinked all the way up to their restraints. As if to add insult to injury, they stretched maybe ten, fifteen feet in the air. There wasn’t a hope of making it over before his acquaintances caught up.

“Mista Ransom?!” Rita sounded scared, she’d even stopped typing. “What happened?”

“There’s-” he coughed “There’s a- barrier- ” There was another word, a better word, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of it. It was taking all his effort to push upright on shaking arms, threading his fingers into the wire mesh to haul himself to his feet.

“A barrier? Like a wall or a buildin’ or somethin? None of that is showing up on my schema-”

“A fence- Is there another way round?” He took a moment to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry but, there isn’t anythin’ on the map. Ya gotta get to the other side before ya have options. Can’t you like, break through or somethin?”

Break through, of course, Nureyev could kick himself; it was so simple. He extracted one of his plasma cutters from a pocket, heat humming through the blade. In the end, it wasn’t even a good fence. The blade made quick work of the links, slicing through them as one might margarine.

Another blaster shot forced him through the cherry red ruin of a hole before it had a chance to cool. He brought his arm up, shielding his face even as the sharp edges racked along his coat, hitting his leg- he hissed, nausea threatening to overtake him.

“Mista Ransom?”

He scrambled to the other side, barely keeping upright.

“Mista Ransom! You’ve got more company comin’ straight at you!”

“What-” his voice cracked in exhaustion. Through the gloom, he could just make out the second pair barreling down the narrow passage. He could hear them barking orders at him now, probably instructing him to surrender or other such nonsense that he had no intention of following.

“They’ve brought reinforcements! They’re gonna’ block your escape roots!”

“Reinforcements?”

“There’s at least four more heading straight at you!”

Nureyev glanced back and spotted the first pair shoving through the debris. Then that would make six- Six on one, he didn’t like those odds. A wrong step sent a jolt through him, his weakened leg nearly buckling under his weight sending him into a wall. Again the world went fuzzy, blood rushing to his ears.

He wondered if the Carte Blanche really would come back for him if he’d got captured. Something made him doubt it even as he shoved the ugly thought deep into a file.

Think Nureyev.

Time, he needed time. A had drifted to the modest arsenal on his chest. There were a few smoke bombs he hadn’t touched, but the situation called for something more dire-

He plucked a pepper grenade from the clip, lobbing it over the fence with the practiced ease of one who’d spent hours on throwing knives. Smoke tracked it’s flight through the air. It struck the ground at the guard’s feet. They yelled, scrambling back just as it erupted. The choking fumes swallowed them in seconds.

Nureyev was no longer paying mind to them, attention bent entirely at the remaining guards. Four on one were more....manageable.

He rushed the closest set, drawing a twin to his first blade wheeling them in tandem. The man was no fighter, as soon as he got into their space, the man shrank back, his blaster forgotten.

A tingling burn flushed across exposed skin making his heart plummet. He’d made a mistake. Nureyev hadn't accounted for the wind-

Spurred by the change in fortune, Nureyev dispatched the man quickly; maneuvering out of the way as he crumpled. Life’s blood spilled over the cobbles soon obscured by smoke.

Smoke?

Twisting and contorting, the smoke seemed to grow till it engulfed everything in its path. Pouring down the cramped space. The remaining guards tried to run, but were soon overtaken, same as the Thief.

Nureyev's throat closed against the onslaught. He gagged and coughed over the very air, vision hopelessly obscured by tears. The only good news was that he could hear his attackers do the same. Panic began to fog his reason.

He no longer noticed the burning of his skin or eyes, or the way his nose was running; no longer could feel the pain in his leg. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn't breathe . The single thought spun round and round in his brain, desperately trying to figure a way around it. He clung to the wall with every ounce of strength he possessed. The coughing picked up even harder now till his chest crushed in like a deflated balloon.

Try as he will, his lungs would not expand. There was simply no more air.

“Mista Ransom?” Rita, in the coms! Rita who was still very much with him. There was hope!

Just then a hand clenched around a fistful of his hair, dragging Nureyev lower still. He’d been found, even in a place like this, they’d still found him. The employees of Galactic Stars First Bank were more like his creditors than Nureyev liked. Even now she was growling at him in anger.

Though he couldn’t understand the language, he knew she was asking questions. Her breaths were short and forced yet still she managed to talk. Had he not been in the grips of fear, he would have found her admirable.

“Mista Ransom?!”

Through his bleary eyes, he could make out the cyan glow of a blaster pointed down under his nose. She meant to shoot him, but was hesitating. At any other time, he'd wonder why- Instead he reached up to claw, to cling at her wrist, still with a grip on his knives. She twisted and he bowed lower, leg quaking, his hand slipped and-

“Ah!” she squealed as his plasma blade bit into her arm, flinging him back to a wall. The impact miraculously forced air back into his lungs. Though as soon as he got it, his body started to cough it back up. Furiously he clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to hold it in.

It didn't work.

“Mista Ransom!” If Rita had sounded scared before, that was nothing compared to now. Her voice was small and tentative in a way that would break any heart. Even so, he latched onto her voice with everything he was worth.

The light of the guard's weapon danced before him. She may have been hurt, but she wasn’t down yet. What’s worse was that she seemed to be calling for backup.

The blade sang out of his fingers, digging itself into her thigh. This time she screamed and hacked, scrambling for the off switch while Nureyev made his escape. It hadn't been where he'd been aiming, but close enough. With any luck, she'd have trouble moving for a time.

“R-ita-” he choked out, managing tiny gasps, every one a massive effort.

“What’s going on! Have you been Gassed!!!!!” thank stars he would not have to explain.

“Y-yes-” he gave into a violent coughing fit.

“Oh-Okay, you need me to show you the way out!”

“Yes-” the fight had turned him around, making it impossible to tell which way to go. He wanted to be free of the smoke as soon as possible.

“Can Do! Oh! This is just like one of those Spy streams like- well, never mind that right now. Alright Mista Ransom, I’m gonna need you to move forwards about a hundred meters.” She instructed conspiratorially. He obliged, thankful to leave the thinking to her. Using the wall to keep him straight. “Be careful when you reach the fork!” she cautioned “The passage on your left has a few baddies, the one on your right is clear!”

On his right- he could just make out two voids stretching before him. Stealing his resolve he propelled himself right and mercifully broke through the miasma. He crashed into a dumpster, nearly running smack into the center of another set of guards.

It had been the wrong way.

There would be no time to recover, no time for rest. Furiously he wiped his eyes and gulped down recycled air.

Rita shrieked in his ear, “Not your right, my right!” but he had no choice but to tune her out.

The fresh opponent rushed him, their partner charging their blaster. Nureyev stumbled back towards the smoke, just managing to use his attacker’s momentum to spin them round into their partner. Their partner roared, firing shots off at random as they fell. Blaster spun out of their grip on impact. A stray bolt savaged one of Nureyev’s coat pockets, scattering it’s contents on the stones. Hopefully there wouldn’t have been anything important in there.

Nureyev readjusted his knife grip and threw at the tangle of limbs. One of the figures stilled. He hobbled towards them as fast as he could, retrieving the blade. He’d already lost one and that was one too many.

It was a mistake.

Pain shot through his leg making him cry out. He fell hard separated anew from his weapon. He’d been struck down by the spare guard. They spat words that were sure to be insults as they disentangled themselves from the motionless body.

Nureyev gasped, twisting away towards the fallen blaster. It had landed some distance away, but one advantage of long limbs was reach- The guard growled and caught his foot, drawing him backwards. He kicked out and the hands clawed higher. It seemed they both were trying for the same weapon.

"Let go- " Nureyev bit out attempting to dislodge the guard.

"Never, scum- " they shot back in perfect Brahmese. Before that could sink in, fingers jammed into his bandages, into the wound- Nureyev keened, paralyzed by the shock of it.

First rule of thriving Pete, you can't afford to be loud.

Rita shrieked all the louder. Nureyev was at once hot and cold and utterly overwhelmed.. He knew he was hurt, thank you, he knew it! He could do without the constant reminders.

The guard made use of their opportunity by clambering over Nureyev. Hand planted on his spine, pushing him down. The thief refused to let it be that easy; scanning for something, anything he could use-

There!

His pocket knife!

Nureyev’s arm shot out, scooping up the tool and flicking it open. He twisted, simultaneously throwing them off and swiping upwards. The blade bit into cloth and flesh. They reared back startled, leaving Nureyev to wriggle free. On hands and knees he scrambled to the blaster.

Nureyev may not have the skills of a certain lovely sharp shooter, but at a distance like this, he couldn't miss.

The stunner went straight to their chest and all went quiet. He folded over, resting his forehead on the damp of the grimy street, forcing down bile once more.

"Mista Ransom!!! Oh Mista Ransom! Are you there? Please say you're there, cuz I'm not sure how I could face the boss if I…."

"Rita-"

"....got you blown up or somethin, cuz know I'd miss you oh so much but Boss- oh I couldn't imagine-"

"I'm- ha- I'm fine- Rita-" he tried again, louder this time. His voice was thick and rough, entirely unlike the persona he’d been so careful to maintain around the crew.

There was a loud clatter from the other end and a sharp intake of breath. It sounded as though Rita knocked something over "Mista Ransom! You ought to feel ashamed! Scaring a girl like that! Don’t you know that-" she cut off abruptly “Ugh oh, Mista Ransom! You gotta get out of there, stat! There are reinforcements on the way and I don't think they are too happy!”

Nureyev groaned and thanked Rita. He supposed it was a lucky thing that he was so averse to capture. It had been a long time since cold stone had been so welcoming.

“What are you waiting’ for Mista Ransom?”

“N-nothing- Rita. Merely -becoming acquainted with the cobble work.” he murmured. In truth, he was drained to his core. His head was spinning, body aching, leg burning and he was just so- thirsty. There was at least something he could do about the last one, but not for a while, and not without getting up. The entire distraction had taken far more out of him than anticipated.

“Mista Ransom, you know I don’t speak nothin but Solar-” she started, but he wasn’t listening.

Distraction. His mind snagged on the word.

That was right, he was luring Galactic Star’s First Bank away from Juno. Juno, gorgeous, wonderful Juno who’d taken a poison dart for him, who needed him right now.

Nureyev had to get back to him, no matter what.

In the end, Nureyev had trusted Rita to guide him back to the safe house. She’d insisted after he nearly ran into another set of guards. He was too tired to fight. More than once considering folding himself up into a corner and waiting for the excitement to die down. Moving in the open like this- didn't sit well with him.

It took a lot longer to return to the grubby street of the safe house, and longer still to check and recheck he hadn’t been followed or bugged.

“Thank you again- Rita-” Privately he vowed to do something nice for her if and when they’d return to the ship.

“Oh and Mista Ransom?”

“Hm?”

“Take care of yourself, alright? Ya make Mista Steel real happy- and- and I want ya both back in one piece okay?”

Nureyev was taken aback for a moment, mind blanking over the words. It was- touching, and he had no idea what to do with that.

He cleared his throat. “I will do everything in my power to make that happen.” and he meant it.

[Special thanks to Scarlet_Trust who got me excited about this again. Please, Please go over and read their wonderful works!]

#tpp #the penumbra podcast #junoverse #jupeter #juno steel #peter nureyev #fic #AlexandeNight #whump #hurt/comfort #tw blood #tw nausea #tw killing #tw fights #Nureyev is a baddass #my writing #fanfic

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starbuckie · 4 years ago

Text

All You Knead is Love Chapter Four: A Bit Untraditional

Challenge: The CBC 1k Writing Challenge by @captainscanadian

Prompt: Bakery AU

Pairing: Baker!Bucky x CEO!Reader

Warnings: Loads and loads of fluff, angst, mentions of PTSD and violence, pining, language as always, and slow burn

*TW: PANIC ATTACK*

Description: After being cut off by her family, Y/N L/N started up her own business. With her business finally rising to the top after three years, her family invites her back on two conditions: that she finds a man and gets married. Once she accomplishes that, then she’ll be able to access her family’s fortune again, which could help her business immensely. While that didn’t sound horrible to her, Y/N had never let herself have the time to meet other people, and has no time now. Running on a deadline for the company, she picks the closest person she can find: which happens to be the sweet, shy, yet hot baker who occasionally caters at her galas.

Words: 2,064 words

A/N: Hey guys! It’s been a solid two months, but I am back and hopefully kicking it with this series. I actually decided to rewrite the ending of the story from what I originally had planned, so I’m very very excited to write it. The holidays are coming up which has me excited, and if you haven’t already sen in a request for the Twelve Days of Fluffmas, you most definitely should. Again, this is for @captainscanadian‘s writing challenge(which you should go join do it do it do it) and hope you enjoy :))

Thursday approached menacingly and rapidly. In the few days they had to prepare, Y/N had managed to move all of her belongings from her pretty empty apartment on the Lower West Side, and into the house that they had bought. She couldn’t be any more grateful for her real estate agent for being so snappy with the process of buying the house. The apartment she left behind had barely been decorated, so the process wasn’t too difficult for her to move in. Bucky on the other hand had started to bring boxes over, at Y/N’s slight insistence that her parents may ask to come over, but his house held so many memories that he knew it would take much longer. It was difficult for him to leave the home he had known for so long, full of cherished memories and the only stable home he had after Iraq. But he was ready to let it go.

The evening of the big engagement dinner Y/N and Bucky were frantic, rushing around the house after work to shower and look presentable, making sure they could pull the stunt off. Bucky’s nerves had been on edge all day, slipping out of the house at two am, hours earlier than normal to start his day. As he talked to customers and served coffee, the words he’d rehearsed with Y/N echoed in his brain, taking over every nook and cranny of his thoughts that he messed up several orders. This time he wouldn’t get nervous. It took him long months to feel the slightest bit comfortable in his own skin and around his neighbors, so if he ran his own bakery he could propose, right?

“So,” Mrs. L/N tried to conceal her disgusted face, “James, what kind of, er, delicacies do you make?”

So the conversation was less than great, even Bucky could admit that. Although Y/n had warned him ahead of time that her parents were not the most amazing conversationalists, he expected something better than this awkward discussion about his job. He loved his job. It brought back cinnamon flavored memories of baking at Christmas with his ma, his dad and younger sister yelling over Scrabble in the living room. Barnes Brooklyn Bakery was his pride and joy, yet he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious when both of Y/N’s parents looked down on it.

“I make lots of things. It requires an earlier or later start time based off of what I’m making, because I want everything to be fresh. But my ma’s croissants are a big seller, and I know that Y/N loves my cinnamon rolls.” He sent her a soft smile, one that the woman in question couldn’t help but return.

“They’re amazing, mom, you have to try them. I swear those hands are absolutely magic and anything that’s made from them is as well.” She intertwined her pinky with Bucky’s on the table, admiring the way the candlelight illuminated the slope of his nose and the hollow of his cheekbones. God, this man has no right being this beautiful. “Bucky’s a hard worker and it shows.”

Y/N’s praise breezed through Bucky like a breath of fresh air, and suddenly his head was clear again, cheeks flushing. “Thanks, doll.”

“And what about your pay, James? How much do you make annually? I have to make sure you’ll be able to support both you and Y/N. After all, her pay from her… makeup brand and her funds can’t be enough.” Fury raged through Y/N, Bucky could probably see it in her eyes as she opened her mouth, prepared to make her argument.

“I make well enough at Orion, dad, but that’s not the point.” Meeting Bucky’s stare from her peripheral vision, she almost panicked. The reason they were sitting there in the first place was so Bucky could get more money for his bakery. “Must you really bring up business at the table? I’m simply trying to have a nice dinner with my boyfriend and my parents, is it really that difficult to ignore money matters for once?”

Her parents eyed each other, as if they were speaking in their own silent, separate language and reluctantly quieted down. The rest of dinner was... tense, to say the very least, stiff questions about childhood and answers being reciprocated as well. Sitting in the presence of her parents, their food tasted bland, but that could’ve been from the anxiety of waiting for the proposal. They’d decided that Bucky was to pop the question while they ate dessert, just a simple small speech and a few tears.

Bucky’s eyes kept trailing back to Y/N as they shared a matcha tiramisu, repeating the words “will you marry me” a million differents ways in his head. The small restaurant he felt comfortable with suddenly felt too small, Bucky not knowing when the proper time to get down on one knee. They hadn’t discussed this. Y/N had just said “whenever you feel is right”, but when was right? The whole idea just felt so wrong to him. Marriage was supposed to be loving, a holy union and commitment for the rest of their lives. He and Y/n didn’t love each other. The whole sham of being husband and wife, for money suddenly felt so sickening to him. The room was closing in on him and all he wanted to do was bolt out and never turn back. He was going back out, he was going to, he felt it, and-

“Marry me, Y/N.” Dead silence. Eyes from all the customers sitting were baring through the couple, seeing his innermost secrets and every one of them felt like a beam of light, boring straight through his soul. Bucky hadn’t even realized how he had practically yelled it at her until the restaurant had gone quiet and he was absolutely mortified. Y/N’s eyes were wide in shock, as this was not how she imagined it going. Yet, the show had to go on.

He instinctively dropped onto one knee, eyes trained at the ground because he was scared of what he would see in her eyes. Short puffs of breath left his mouth and he all of Manhattan could hear his heart pounding. “When we met, I knew you were the one for me. I knew you were beautiful, hell, y-you were gorgeous that day you walked into the bakery, but every time you came in after I got to know the beautiful woman that wasn’t just on the outside, but on the inside too.” His eyes started tearing up, from both his kind of true confession and the pressure that was being put on him. “I-I promise to love you with all my heart. You’re my best friend, my confidante, my soulmate, and I want to be walking by my side for the rest of our lives, doll. I want to be yours forever. What do you say?”

Bucky lifted his gaze up to meet hers, hands covering her mouth as a soft sigh left her lips. Y/N couldn’t believe the beautiful sight. Shaking hands held a small cut diamond nestled in between two simple silver bands. Bucky’s hair was fluffy, newly so from his haircut the other day, clean shaven jaw showcasing the highlights of his cheekbones, and his eyes. She could go on forever about those pretty, blue eyes of his, but in the two years of knowing him, they had never been as pretty as they were in that moment, pretty blue eyes peering up at her.

Here he was, the man that she considered one of her closest friends in the city, literally giving his solitary life up to spend it with her. She wasn’t in love with him, not now at least, but those lingering feelings of hers tried to once again force their way back into her heart.

And this time, at the worst time possible, she let them.

With a small but giddy grin, she nodded and placed her hand on his cheek. “Yes, Bucky, I’ll marry you.”

He let out a long sigh at her approval, but the applause and cheers directed at him continued to make his heart race. Bucky slipped the ring onto her finger clumsily, his breath starting to become more labored as the cheers of “kiss” got louder. Y/N noticed his harsh breathing, and as she pulled him into an enveloping embrace she could feel the rapid beating of his heart the thin dress shirt he wore. “Can we go, Y/N?”

His whispered voice quivered, as if he were to break at any moment. “Of course, Bucky, I’ll go say goodbye and you can start heading to the car.” Grip on her waist tightened as she heard him grind his teeth.

“Please stay with me.”

Of course I’ll stay with you. “Always.” The cheers had not stopped, their voices still ringing strong throughout the restaurant. With no hesitation, Y/N planted a kiss on his cheek, hopefully ridding themselves of the large crowd they had garnered. Her parents looked confused, both of their eyebrows raised at the couple who still had yet to do anything besides hug at their engagement. “Mom, dad, Bucky and I are gonna go home to… celebrate by ourselves.”

Both of them heated up. “Just leave, we’ll take care of the bill. Your father will send you information for the fund over the weekend.” Mrs. L/N eyed both of them skeptically before saying, “Congratulations, Y/N.”

As soon as they got outside Bucky’s knees buckled, Y/N rubbing his back to try and console his breathing. His mind had grown hazy with wild thoughts, the crowd, the proposal, Y/N’s fucking perfume, it was all too much.

It was crawling underneath a truck in the boiling sun, Sam screaming for him, the first blossom of pain and staring down at his left arm, bloodied and detached from his body. It was screaming at his little sister to leave when she brought him groceries, ripping up Steve’s letters from Iraq. It was hours upon hours sitting in medical beds, sitting on couches, staring at the ceiling while doctors attempted to get him to open up. It was panicking at the bakery when someone eyed his prosthetic for too long and women leaving dates with him at the diner on 5th street after he failed to tell them all the gory details about how he lost his arm when they persistently asked. It was every moment he had looked at Y/N, all smiles and kind eyes, and wishing for once that he could not be a fucking coward and ask her out.

“I’m sorry.” The woman whispered. She now kneeled next to him, her right arm tracing shapes on his back, the light scrape of her nails bringing him to somewhat of a peace.

“I don’t need your pity, Y/N.” The second it left his lips he regretted it, waiting for her to leave him alone. They all did eventually. But Y/N sat there, patiently, with a small tilt to her red-painted lips.

“I’m not pitying you, Bucky. You’re one of the strongest and bravest people I know, and I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I just can’t believe I relapsed.” He let out a humorless laugh, his chin coming to rest in his palm. “I thought I was doing well, I always feel okay at the bakery, but I guess that the restaurant was too much. Haven’t been to one in at least a year.”

“It’s completely okay to have panic attacks and to relapse, okay, Bucky? Don’t beat yourself up about it, honey.” Kicking her high heels off, she brought herself down to his level, both of them sitting on the sidewalk as people passed them by. Though they were in New York, the city that never sleeps, she strangely felt calm. People didn’t even turn their heads at the two well-dressed people sitting on the ground. “I would’ve proposed to you, you know.”

“You propose to me? That’ isn't very traditional,” Bucky said with a breathy chuckle.

“To be fair, is any of this?” His grin was starting to grow back, and he squeezed her hand and looked out into the crowded street of the night.

“No, I suppose it isn’t.”

TAGLIST

@aiofheavenandhell @barnesjamcs @kitkatd7 @adorkably @marvelnaturalock

AKYIL TAGLIST

@aiofheavenandhell @barnesjamcs @kitkatd7 @captainscanadian @93generation @drunkbucky @thebadassbitchqueen @asonofpeter @cosmicbreathe @adorkably @awesomeannanumber1 @blubberingmess @every-marveler-ever @supraveng @delicatecapnerd @bitchwhytho @peace-love-hobbitness @learisa @marvelnaturalock

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wreckofawriter · 5 years ago

Text

Pulled Apart

~Part 2~ ~Part 3~

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Regulus Black x reader, Redacted x reader and Redacted x reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety and death, swearing

Summary: Everyone is lost in the world as the man soon to be called the Dark Lord rises to power. Your parents are already ready to give their life along with your own for this man. You spend your seventh year in Hogwarts being pulled apart by the expectations for you and the hope placed in you by your childhood friend Sirius and his closest companions.

A/n: The first part to my seires! I'm going to be posting new parts once a week, there are going to be around 10 of them. I hope you guys enjoy!

The night was a pitch black, the moon hid from the horrors that had taken the earth behind layers of deep grey clouds. The stars gave no signs as they did every other night, they too were afraid. The wind came in nervous gusts which whipped through the dark robes of the pale wizard as he walked through the silent town. Not one window gave off a warm light, but that was normal in Clovelly, people were never up past midnight.

The soft footsteps on cobblestone were far too gentle considering where they were leading. A deafening stomp followed by the scream of broken glass would have been more appropriate. But things were rarely as they were seen. The man -if you could call him that much- didn’t bother knocking on the small wooden door but instead pulled a wand from his pocket and whispered a spell. The hinges which hadn’t been tended to in years creaked as they parted way for the wizard. He padded into the small entry investigating the photographs which hung on the beige walls.

The stairs were carpeted, silencing death’s warnings as he continued with his shrunken, bladeless scythe. The prey he sought was fast asleep, her deep blue eyes closed, unaware they would never re-open. The man didn’t linger in front of her bed for long, he had no intention of looking at the woman’s face for longer than necessary.

A gust of wind shook the windows, ruffling the small cat’s dark fur as it watched the windows flash green. Life was taken, yet the world spun on, it always would. Life wasn’t the world’s worry.

“Black!” You snapped stomping into the red and gold common room. No one was quite sure how you knew the passwords each week but no one dared to ask.

The called boy turned his head looking over his shoulder to see you marching towards him.

James cringed when he caught the expression on your face, “Good luck man.” he murmured moving from his spot next to Sirius on the couch to the chair across from him.

“Hey y/n,” Sirius spoke, plastering a smile onto his thin lips.

You scoffed in disgust as you placed yourself in front of him, hands on your hips, “Can you possibly keep your dick in your pants for more than a minute?” you scowled and James turned a laugh into a cough behind your back.

“Wow y/n, I didn’t know you wanted my dick too, but I mean I’m game if y- Mother fucker!” Sirius doubled over in pain clutching his soon to be bruised shin.

“I told you not to fuck around with any of my friends Black.” You said, “And yet. What do I wake up to but Pearl gushing about how she and the infamous Sirius Black are now dating.”

Sirius scrunched his nose in disgust, “What no way, Pearl and I are not dating.”

“Yeah, no shit!” You yelled smacking him upside the head with the back of your hand.

The boy moaned, rubbing his head, “Come on y/n.” He whined, “It’s too early to be abused.”

“It’s also too early to hear one of your best friend’s heart break but here we are.” You spoke, gesturing wildly around you, “I can’t believe you slept with her.”

“I told you not to mess with Pearl, Sirius.” Remus called from the top of the stairs, beginning down towards the scene you had created.

“Chime out Moony.” Sirius huffed, “This is none of your business.”

You now had your head buried in your hands, mumbling tiredly about Sirius’s absolute stupidity.

“Pearl is the really nice blonde one right?” James asked behind you and Remus nodded taking the armchair next to him.

“She sure was nice in bed,” Sirius grinned. His smirk was wiped away as the toe of your dress shoe connected with his shin again.

“I swear to Salazar, Black!” You shrieked.

Remus winced, “We’re on last names?” He whispered to James who nodded.

“She hasn’t called him Sirius yet.”

Sirius shrugged, “I told her it was only for one night, I didn’t think it would be an issue.” he explained.

“The issue is they always come to me expecting me to get them a date!” You wailed, “And then I have to break their hearts, you dumbass!”

Sirius pondered this for a moment, “Okay I can see how that would be annoying.”

You let out a sigh, “So you’ll stop sleeping with my friends then.” you questioned eyebrows raised.

Sirius frowned pouting, “But your friends are so hot.”

You threw your hands up in the air, turning to James and Remus who both shrugged giving you looks of pity. Giving up, you dropped beside Sirius on the couch.

“You’re such an asshole.” You mumbled, leaning your head onto his shoulder, blowing at the hair which fell into your eyes.

“You love me.” He chuckled, glancing down at you in amusement.

You bit your lip humming, “Do I?”

You had always hated cold weather, it didn’t help that your common room seemed to be ten degrees colder than the rest of the castle. It was nice in the summer but the winter was miserable. Goosebumps ripped up your arm as you approached the stone wall that had been submitted to memory by every green-robed student in the school.

“Purity.” You mumbled and the stones parted. You never liked Slytherins passwords, you always felt sick to your stomach as you watch some muggle-born speak horrible things against themselves simply to get to bed. Your mother had told you she thought the passwords were nothing short of adequate, fitting the house quite well. You had learned that your mother was usually wrong.

As you entered the room your eyes wandered to a group of students you knew a bit too well. The rest of the common room was empty as it always was when your meetings -or hangouts as most of the group called them- took place.

Lucious turned towards you with a sneer. “Where were you y/l/n?” He snapped, voice icy as his eyes. “You’re late.”

“None of your business Malfoy.” You replied, “You’re not my mother.”

“He kinda looks like her.” Avery laughed behind the blonde.

You cracked a grin, “Don’t insult my mother like that, even her nose isn’t that big.”

Malfoy scoffed as you placed yourself next to Avery, who always seemed a bit too close. The Black sisters glanced up at you, Narssicia with a soft smile and Bellatrix with a frown of disgust, you didn’t take it personally.

“She’s obviously been with our dreadful cousin.” The curly-haired girl spat.

You rolled your eyes with a sigh, “Where is Regulus anyway?” you mumbled hoping to move the conversation away from your whereabouts.

“He said he was going to be here in a few minutes,” Narssicia answered, her eyes returning to the book in her lap.

You nodded nervously picking at the dark polish on your nails. You hated these meetings, they made your stomach twist in knots and your heart hammer too quickly in your chest. Despite the often joking nature of the students, you each knew the other would take your life if given the order. It caused your anxiety to spike and eyes to flirt dangerously form person to person.

Your gaze lingered on Snape, the newest member of your little club. His hair was plastered down onto his pale face, lips a thin pink which seemed to be bitten raw. He felt your stare and glanced up in a silent challenge. You thanked Regulus for his timing as the common room’s door slid open.

He nodded at the few greetings he received apologizing for his tardiness and taking a seat next to you. Your heartbeat immediately calmed, the younger Blacks presence did wonders for the terrifying thoughts that clouded your head as you stared down the future murders your parents had pushed you to be friends with.

You felt yourself subconsciously leaning towards the boy, he never seemed to mind.

Bellatrix mumbled a concealing spell and the meeting began.

“So any new tasks this week?” Mcruber asked, far too excited to get something terrible done.

“Not for a while actually,” Malfoy grunted and you felt momentary ecstasy. “The old bat that runs this place knows something is up. Apparently he started his own group of fifthly mudbloods.”

Your stomach tightened.

“I don’t buy it.” The elder Black sister scoffed leaning back on the couch.

“It doesn’t matter whether you buy it or not, Bella.” Regulus drawled, rolling his eyes at his older cousin.

“We are supposed to lay low for a bit,” Lucious explained ignoring Bellatrix who made faces at her younger cousin, “My father suggested we find a different place to meet as well, this is open.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“So we are just supposed to sit here?” Avery asked, his voice holding a hint of a whine.

“Sounds like it.” Snape murmured, glancing around the table, his gaze landing on you and staying there for far too long.

You felt Regulus stiffen beside you. You looked up at the boy to see him staring straight back at the half-blood who eventually caved. Severus didn’t trust you. You knew that and so did everyone else seated around you. You just prayed that everyone would continue to consider him paranoid as they currently were. Most of them didn’t trust the half-blood himself, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he broke through their walls.

The meeting only lasted another ten minutes filled with useless questions being answered as you slowly inched closer and closer to Regulus, Snape’s stares becoming downright frightening as his eyes stayed locked on your form. It didn’t help that Avery had tried to throw his arm around your shoulder twice now. You felt trapped, like a mouse in a cage.

The third time you had to push the blonde-haired boy’s arm from your shoulders Regulus stood from his seat silencing the conversation that Lucious and Narssica had been having.

“She’s obviously not interested, so back off.” He growled, his fists tightening at his side.

Avery was taken aback by the actions of the usually quiet male, he opened his mouth to speak, shutting it quickly when he caught the glare you pointed at him. A sly smirk took his visage and he pulled up his arms in surrender, “My bad, I didn’t know she was taken.”

You scoffed, a snarl finding your face, “I’m not into you because you’re a disgusting pig, not because I’m dating someone else.”

His face grew red, anger darkening his bright eyes, “What did you just say to me bitch?” he leaped to his feet leaning towards you. You heard Narcissa gasp.

Regulus pushed the other boy squarely in the shoulders, sending him back into the couch which you had stood from, backing away quickly.

“Don’t speak to her that way.” Regulus hissed, one of his hands gripping Avery’s face roughly as he kneeled on his thigh with one leg.

Mcruber snatched Regulus’s arms pulling him away from the other boy with a warning glance. You heard Bellatrix laughing behind you, her shriek only worsening your mood.

“Let’s calm down guys, no need to kill each other,” Mcruiber spoke a palm to each male’s chest, standing between them.

“You best watch it Black.” Avery spat before shoving Mcriber away from him and storming up the stairs and slamming the door to his dorm room.

Regulus dropped his shoulders with a huff and glanced towards you in a soundless question.

You nodded, Bellatrix still cackling over your shoulder.

“So protective Reggy.” She giggled.

Your eyes turned in their sockets, “Shut up Bella.” You glanced at Regulus who had turned away from you, sitting back down on the couch. You made you way next to him hearing Mcrubier cough awkwardly.

Snape stood himself, gathering a few books which were set on the dark coffee table in front of him, “If we’re done, I’m leaving.”

He was only met with nods before he turned on his heel and made towards the common room exit.

“This makes things easier anyway, considering they weren’t invited.” Mcruiber chuckled reaching for his bag and pulling out a stack of heavy envelopes.

As he distributed the parchment you leaned into the youngest Black, “Thanks Reg.” your voice was a sweet whisper.

The boy only nodded stiffly before you backed away from him to accept the invitation from Mcruiber. You peeled open the wax not surprised to see almost illegible thin cursive writing announcing a ball two weeks from the next day.

“You’re supposed to bring a date.” Mcruiber huffed, clearly not a fan of the idea, “They have to be respectful to the setting of course.” He didn’t need to elaborate, you all knew what he meant. “Some families from France, Bulgaria, and Germany will be there as well.”

You nodded along with everyone else, eyes scanning the guest list on the back catching your family’s name along with four dozen others.

“It’s over Christmas break so if any of you are staying here then you would want to arrange something with your parents.” The brunette explained finishing his rounds and settling into his original seat.

You felt a familiar sense of dread fill you at a mention of the approaching break, ignoring the painful pressure on your chest you got to your feet bringing your hand through your hair, “I’m heading up to bed.” You stated, “I need a nap.”

A murmur of goodbyes met your ears as you turned to leave. Just as your foot met the first step leading towards the girls dorm a call pulled you back.

“What’s up Reg?’ You asked looking up at the younger boy.

He paused, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, “You know what, it’s not important.” he muttered.

You frowned, “Alright. I’ll see you later”

He nodded, “Yeah, see you.”

You continued up the stairs, hoping sleep would wipe away the bitterness of the gathering you had just taken part in, unaware of the set of eyes that followed you until you slipped out of their view.

You let the meeting slip from your head, the words exchanged in its secrecy did nothing but trouble you. You successfully distracted yourself for three days. Tests and essays made the job easy as you plunged headfirst into the deep waters of education. The last thing you wanted was to face your mother in two weeks’ time with inadequate grades, she would have your head. You found your classes easy enough, it felt good to be like everyone else for a few moments, you were just another kid stressing over Transfiguration notes and procrastinating with your friends. It was easy to forget you were anything but another kid.

The normalness you had grown to love was ripped away from you in one cruel movement.

It was late at night, the windows creaking from heavy snowfall and harsh winds. You and a few others were pushed from the library where you had taken sanctuary with a thick book under your arm.

You headed towards the dungeons alone, the castle practically empty from the rapidly approaching curfew. Your hurried steps were cut short when a cat cut in front of you. It wasn't the raggeded Mrs. Norris you were accustomed to. Instead, you were greeted with a brown tabby, its fur neat and trimmed as it gave you an oddly familiar pointed look.

You frowned, you knew this cat. Your mind reeled as you tried to remember its origin. You gasped as the memory snapped into place, “Professor?”

The cat nodded confirming your suspicion before trotting off towards the east wing. She paused turning to look back at you.

Catching the message you picked up your pace to follow the disguised teacher. The halls were silent save the murmur of portraits and the occasional wisp of a ghost. You didn’t dare speak unsure of what was happening as you trailed through the castle until you stood in front of a massive gargoyle, its teeth bared at you in a warning.

You blink owlishly before turning back to the cat which was no longer a cat. Your professor stood in front of you, but she didn’t meet your questioning eyes only muttering a password under her breath before commanding you forwards into the now opening stairwell.

You started to climb the stone steps only for them to rotate upwards startling you into gripping the wall to your left.

Your anxiety had spiked into a near attack. You knew where this staircase led and you knew who was waiting for you. It was the matter of what he was going to say that caused your heart to rush in your chest.

The slow spiral upwards had stopped and you were opened to a circular room decorated in mumbling portraits and strange-looking artifacts.

“Ah, Ms. y/l/n.”

You pulled your eyes away from a set of strange silver instruments to meet your headmaster’s eyes.

“I’m assuming you are wondering what you are doing here at this ungodly hour.” He chuckled.

You glanced at your watch, it was only ten-thirty. You nodded anyway, “Am I in trouble professor?” you asked, trying not to sound as anxious as you felt.

He laughed again, something you found irritating as you tried not to shake in panic, “Of course not.”

You wondered how that was so obvious considering the circumstances.

“But I am afraid I am going to have to ask you for a favor.” The humor had dropped from his voice and you gulped, pressing your hands which were slick with sweat together.

The elderly man motioned for you to take a seat in front of his desk. You did so carefully, your eyes darting around you the way they were taught to when you didn’t know what was going on.

There was a breath of silence as Dumbledore peered at you over his half-moon spectacles, the portraits had stopped their conversations, and the strange ticking you had been exposed to when first entering had halted.

“I would like us to come to an agreement not to lie to each other in this conversation y/n.” He spoke pointedly, your given name sounding strange on his lips.

You nodded numbly, deciding immediately not to follow through with that accord.

He paused for a moment too long, a somber look taking his worn features, “I assume you have heard of the man who is calling himself Voldemort.”

Your eyes widened, you fought a wince, “Yes I have.” you managed to croak. Your throat felt abnormally dry.

“You also know of his large and growing number of followers don’t you?” He inquired.

You felt your back go stiff, “Yes sir.”

He licked his lips leaning back in his chair, “And we both know your family is apart of that following.”

You felt yoru breath lodge in your throat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, professor.” you spoke so cleanly, you surprised yourself.

He glared down at you, “I thought we agreed not to lie.”

“I’m not lying, sir.” You respond like a well-trained dog.

He sighed, “Minerva was right, you are going to be hard to break.”

You did reply, your face stone, unmoving as you stared deep into midnight blue eyes.

He broke the held eye contact leaning back in his chair slightly, “Y/n, what is your relationship with Sirius Black.”

You furrowed your brows, “What does Sirius have to do with any of this?”

“Sirius has everything to do with this.”

You hesitated a moment, “We’re friends. We have been since we were young.”

“Yes, you have.” He mumbled, “And what about James Potter?”

This question only confused you more, “I’m sorry sir, if you were just going to ask me about my relationship with a list of boys I will be getting to bed.”

Dumbledore laughed loudly, the tension in the room dispersing as he mentioned for you to sit back in the seat you had risen from, “I’m offtly sorry y/n, this must all be very confusing, I suppose I should get to the point.”

“I agree.” you bit back.

His smile once again dropped, “I have started a group, an organization of sorts to help combat the actions and supporters of Lord Voldemort.”

You felt the color drain from your face.

“I brought you here today to ask if you would be willing to join us.”

Your head spun, your fingers instinctively found the skin of your forearm and pinched it to keep you in reality, “I-I’m sorry, what?” the confusion read very clearly in your tone.

“We would like you to join. Sirius fought very hard for us to offer you a spot, James seconded him and Remus was his third.” The headmaster explained, “They all believe that you would be a useful asset on our team.”

Your mouth dropped slightly and you blinked rapidly, “I’m sorry, I don’t think you understand what your asking me.”

“I am very sure I do. I was wondering if you understood.” The man said with raised eyebrows.

You licked your lips trying to organize your thoughts, “So you want me- a pureblood Slytherin- to join your anti-dark lord group?” You were very aware of the fact that you may have given up your position as a supporter, but you were too baffled to care.

“We would be asking you to be a spy.” He confirmed, “Relay information about the other side for us.”

And finally, you understood, it all came at you in a rush of dead leaves. A spy. You would be a two-faced snitch for them. An uncertain rage filled you, “You know what, I don’t think you do understand what you’re asking me.” you hissed at the man, “Because what you just asked me to do was to throw away my life.” Your voice was venom, but the man stood unmoved.

“I do realize that.” He spoke calmly.

“You don’t” you snarled, “Because if you did then you wouldn’t be asking.”

You stood to leave but was stopped in your tracks when a small boy appeared in front of you. He was a wisp of smoke, his dark hair a mess, grey eyes rimmed in red, heavy tears sliding down his plump cheeks as he cradled his hand close to his chest.

You turned back to your professor, anger bubbling in your chest, “How dare you.” you sneered your own wand out in a flash.

“Sirius told me to use it.” He replied bluntly, “He told me you would agree. But that you would need a push. I know I’m asking too much of you, but you are needed y/n. The Order needs you.”

You stood too still, your feet feeling like they were planted into cement, you had already known the answer the second he he asked, you had known it the moment you had stepped into this office.

“Do you agree to join us y/n?”

You felt numb, “I agree.”

Taglist:

@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @songforhema @wangmangagavroche @evyiione @atomicpunkrock @fairywriter-oracle @moon-zodiac

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preachyoung · 5 years ago

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blackbox ; jaehyun

*disclaimer : all places and names are fictitious

Note : I’m trying something new, writing in first person rather than third person, adding flashbacks and thoughts into the whole story, it’s a little challenging for me but I hope you guys like this.

Also, I would love to hear your thoughts on this writing, my inbox is open :-)

when i gave mom one last hug and wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks, i made a promise to her that i would live a good life and behave myself while i’m on the other side of the world. i bid my family and my closest friend a last goodbye before walking towards immigration at the airport.

why are these thoughts coming to me now? i’m living a good life and i’m sure as hell behaving myself when he asked me to get down on my knees for him.

blackbox was just like every other club, it’s a place to drink, dance and genuinely have a good time. but what makes it so much more famous than other clubs? i was asking myself the same question until meredith, my roommate, told me what actually goes on there.

“look, there’s only three kinds of people that goes to blackbox,” meredith spoke, pausing for a couple of seconds to apply her mascara. “one, to drink; two, to dance; three, do both and also go into the black room.” she finished.

“okay? still, what’s the big deal about it. it sounds just like any other clubs i’ve been to.” i complained.

“shh, i’m not finished yet!” meredith said. i rolled my eyes at her, turned my back and continue searching my closet for a good party dress.

“the black room is what makes it a big deal, y/n. it’s a room where people go in to have sex or oral or whatever you want to do!” meredith turned around from her chair, facing me completely with a grin on her face.

i was confused. so, people just go in the black room and pick a partner to fuck with? but what if someone comes up to you and you don’t wanna fuck with them because you want someone else?

indeed, i was confused at that moment. but with his hands in my hair, thrusting his hips forward, furthering down his cock till the tip of it hits the back of my throat, i couldn’t help but let out a moan and my train of thoughts were rudely interrupted.

when we arrived at the blackbox, i could feel my heart palpitating against my chest as we got closer to the entrance. i did not know what was making me feel so nervous. was it the idea that i want to get ramp from behind in the black room? or was it the idea that i don’t know exactly how i can get ramp from behind? either way, i was nervous at both ideas.

meredith and i were greeted by two tall and well-built bouncers standing by each side of the entrance door, i think they were about 6 feet 5? meredith mentioned some kind of secret code and bouncers let us in.

“what did you say to let us in?” i asked.

meredith gave me a flirty smile and shot me a wink, telling me that it’s something i did not need to know and i should just have a good time.

maybe for now i do need to know, or i don’t? because the owner of this club is doing a mind-blowingly good job at eating my pussy out with two fingers in and i could barely think straight.

“you taste so good, baby.” jaehyun smirked.

i couldn’t help but let out a whine, embarrassed but greatly turned on by his only- so-mild dirty words. jaehyun looked up at me from between my legs, even in the dim light of this room, i could see his chin and the side of his mouth glistening with my juices.

oh what a sight.

“come on!” meredith yelled, grabbing my wrist and leading the way to a private booth. a hostess greeted us at the door, dressed in a black silky bodycon dress, nipples poking through the fabric-due to the air-conditioning, as if it was greeting us as well.

‘jesus, how much did she pay to get such luxury?’ i questioned myself.

the booth was already filled with different kinds of booze, fancy champagnes and very very attractive young men with also very very attractive women in each of their arms, only except for one man. meredith led me to stand in front of the table, clapping her hands together to get everyone’s attention.

“hello, boys and mister jung.” meredith chirped. the man, i assume, mister jung, rolled his eyes at her and turned his attention back to the whiskey in his hand. taking a sip before resting his arm on top of his crossed legs. he was dressed a little more casual than the other men in the booth, just plain black t-shirt and is that army printed pants?

“this is a good friend of mine, y/n. so be nice and don’t do anything unless she says so, we clear?. lastly, let’s have a good time, bitches!” meredith finished her opening speech.

i stood there awkwardly before walking to the end of the couch and take a seat while meredith headed over to the table and grabbed some drinks and not sit beside me, but some other dude at the other end of the couch. it wasn’t like i needed her to be right by my side the whole time while we’re at a club, but when you drag me to a private booth with twelve complete strangers, i sure as hell hope you could help me out a little.

after a couple of minutes, i got up from my seat to get a drink. hopefully a drink strong enough to make me loosen up and enjoy myself here. before i could, i felt the cushion next to me sink down, i took a glance and noticed it was mister jung sitting next to me with a glass of champagne in his hand and whiskey at the other.

“here you go, princess. y/n right?” he smiled, showing off his dimples.

“well, thank you.” i smiled back.

i took the champagne from him and chugged the whole thing down, way too sober to talk with my anxiety boosting through the roof. i put the empty glass down and turned my attention back to him. mister jung looked at me with surprise.

“oh, right. it is y/n. you’re mister jung i assume?” i asked him.

“yes but you could just call me jaehyun. meredith just likes to call me that.” jaehyun shrugged, taking another sip of his drink.

we had a small talk for couple of minutes before the girls pulled him to the other side for a drinking game. i drank another couple of drinks before i left the booth and headed over to the dance floor. with the alcohol in my blood, i felt myself loosen up, swinging my hips according to the music, occasionally grinding my ass on to the girls and guys on the floor.

“looks like she’s enjoying herself there, don’t you think?” a friend of jaehyun said to him.

i could see them from afar, standing next to each other with their hands crossed over their chest. jaehyun’s eyes were burning into mine, as if it was a contest to see who could keep their stare on each other for the longest. i gave him a wink and a flirty smile, and turned my back to him, continuing dancing with a random guy. my body felt hot, a thin layer sweat coating my skin. i turned back around to where jaehyun was standing a couple of minutes ago, my eyes were searching for his presence and i couldn’t find him anywhere, and i was a little disappointed when i noticed he was entertaining another girl at the bar.

“i believe they deserve some attention too, don’t they?” jaehyun said as he got up between my thighs, slowly hovering his muscular body on top of mine.

as soon as he finished his sentence, his hand went behind my back, unhooking my bra skillfully with one hand, ripping it off my body and planted his plump lips back onto mine. one hand groping your tits while rolling my nipple between his thumb and the other holding my neck, closing the distance between us two.

he detached his lips from mine and went to my other nipple. softly nibbling it between his teeth as i grab a fistful of his hair, intertwining his locks between my fingers as i moaned out loud.

i made my way through the crowd and planned to head back to the booth, until i saw jaehyun disappear into a room, probably with that girl just now at the bar. i didn’t know what i felt at that moment, but my curiosity took over and ordered me to follow his direction.

the door was made of what felt like velvet, and it was insanely heavy to even push open. ‘damn, this is one hell of a room’ i thought to myself. it was a huge dimly lit room, with dark maroon velvet cushioned walls and two rows of smaller rooms on each side of the bigger container, numbers built in on each door.

hm, i suppose this was that room meredith mentioned? it sure as hell does not deserve the name 'the black room' when it's literally nothing like the color.

“1, 2, 3, 4- ah!” i shrieked when someone grabbed my arm from one of the rooms.

i quickly forced my wrist loose from the stranger’s grip, turning my back against them and face the opposite direction.

“HELP! SOMEBODY!” i banged hard against the door, my legs were soft like jelly, i was sitting down on the carpeted floor, screaming to get out of this unfamiliar place.

“i know you were looking for me, princess. i’m just making it easier for you.”

ah, a familiar voice. jung jaehyun.

"plus, i specifically made the rooms here sound proof. you know how loud people can get from sex." he smiled.

I turned to the sound of his voice. jaehyun’s fingers controlled the light switch, slowly turning the small knob to light up the dark room. after blinking a couple of times, adjusting my eyes to the exposure. that’s when i noticed that he and i were both alone in the room.

“mhmm, so warm and wet, and so tig-” jaehyun paused, letting out a shaky breath as I clenched onto his cock, putting what I learned from Alex Cooper’s podcast to good use.

“fuck. I could get used to this feeling.” jaehyun said as he planted a kiss on my lips.

he wasn’t fully inside me but he was stretching me out good. i never had someone as big as him, and i was trying my best to clench my walls onto his cock making both of us feel good. not going to lie to myself, just like he said, even i could seriously get used to this feeling.

“jaehyun,move please, orgasms don't happen with still motion.” i complained.

“as you wish.” jaehyun replied. with just that, he pushed the rest of himself inside me, both of us letting out a loud groan from the overwhelming sensation. jaehyun gradually built up speed and the sound of skin slapping; low groans and loud moans filled the room.

“what do you want?” jaehyun asked, lifting his body up and re-adjust his posture from the chair. his elbows resting on his thighs, eyes burning into mine.

i was going to word vomit and say something i might or might not regret.

I don't know jaehyun, I might just want you to ramp me from behind just like how I like it or how you like it, whatever it is, I just want to be ramped by you.

by the way he was judging, i could tell he was waiting for an answer, his left foot was tapping impatiently on the carpet.

as i sat down on the carpet, debating if i should just tell him the truth. my mouth waters at the look of his body. even slightly intoxicated, i noticed even from his casual attire, i could tell he’s well built. the thin layer of his shirt outlines his chest and abs perfectly, jaehyun was like a sculpture God hand carved himself.

i fought the urge to spit the thoughts in my head out of my mouth, but before i knew it, he stood up and started walking towards me and a minute later, his pink plump lips were against mine.

i could taste the whiskey off of him. it was like im drinking him down.

“i’ve seen the way you danced, y/n. how you grind your ass onto those guys; with the girls i’m fine with it, but you know how much those guys wanted to get in your pants just as much as i do.” jaehyun paused.

his hands were all over my body. from my neck; shoulders; arms and waist; it was literally everywhere. but he wasn’t touching anywhere near where i want him the most.

“but we both know who you really want. don’t we?” he said as he tapped my ass, signaling me to jump, and he held me by my thighs, my hands automatically cling onto his arms as he slowly walked towards the bed. jaehyun gently lay me down. as now he was hovering on top of me, the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat and alcohol filled my nose; his lips attached onto mine hungrily, tongues intertwined and saliva all over the place.

i suppose i should tell what exactly happened, all the juicy details like how he sounded - low groans and soft whines, especially when he was close; how did his cock look like, was it big and veiny or decent and thick; how did his face look like when he was finishing himself etcetera; but i couldn’t.

all i could really remember was how good it felt to have him in me, on me and right now, beside me. he was laying so peacefully, one hand resting on my right tit, body sprawled on the right side of this king size bed. his hair was covering his eyes as he softly snores.

what an angel.

#jaehyun #jaehyun smut #nct #nct 127 #nct smut #nct 127 smut #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun smut #jaehyun x reader #nct-writers

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stusbunker · 4 years ago

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AGA: An Open Tab

A Kinky Supernatural Fan-fiction AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny LaFitte

Written for: @spnkinkbingo and @thoughtslikeaminefield

Square Filled: Bear

Word Count: 1731

A/N: 18yo+, Benny’s turn to visit Dean at work this time. Internalized bi-phobia, objectification, sexual tension.

A Gentlemen’s Agreement Masterlist

It was another Friday night at the bar, Dean was slinging drinks and Anna and Bella were waiting tables. Jack was decidedly late, again. Dean bobbed his head to the music and tried to stop watching the old smoke stained clock on the wall. It was the second week in a row and Dean was no longer interested in giving Jack the benefit of the doubt.

Dean had been helping Cas out at the bar for six months. Cas, one of Dean’s closest friends, talked Dean into bartending on an as needed basis, since the college kids Cas hired had been notoriously flaky. ‘As needed’ had somehow become Dean’s taxing second job. Which was how when Cas’s own nephew couldn’t bother to show up on time, Dean was left to step up, again.

The afterwork rush was heavier than normal and the music already seemed too loud. Dean just finished pouring the last of the beers for Anna to take back to the pool tables when Jack finally made his appearance, excuses flying out of his mouth. Dean knew he shouldn’t be so short with the kid, but Cas sure as hell wasn’t going to be.

“Save it and go help that group at the end of the bar, will ya? I’m already backed up.” Dean watched as Jack balled up his hoodie and shoved it beneath the register. The redheaded waitress gave Dean a knowing look as the hapless youth washed his hands.

It was going to be a long night.

Castiel Novak made his nightly appearance just after ten. Eight years ago, when he inherited the bar from his brother, Cas decided he needed to look like a business owner, despite his young age, so he started wearing suits. If the weather was cold enough, he’d even wear a trench coat over them. Dean never had the heart to tell Cas he was overdoing it and, of course, Cas never learned better on his own.

There was a time when Cas’s obliviousness had been endearing to Dean, but lately it only seemed to add to Dean’s exhaustion. Dean guessed that showed progress. Then again, he was still the dancing monkey behind the bar because Cas needed him there, so maybe it wasn’t a lot of progress.

After so long, Dean had learned to pick Cas’s voice out of the crowd, from any point in the room; unintentionally clocking his path like a sonar. Dean finally put eyes on Cas when he made his way to check in with a few of the regulars at one of the booths. He saw Cas again when he initiated some awkward small talk with the waitresses. Lucky for them, they were too busy to be stuck on Cas duty for long. By the time Cas got behind the bar, Dean had a pack of women in one corner that refused to let him walk away. Which left Cas to figure out the shape of things all on his own.

Jack could barely answer Cas’s questions; he was so overwhelmed with orders.

After turning down a second round of shots with the ladies, Dean lost track of Cas. After ten minutes, Dean figured Cas had left for the night, easing any anxiety Dean had held for the remainder of his shift. If Cas was gone, Dean didn’t have to play too nice with the kid and he could close without too much hassle.

Which was exactly when Benny walked in the door.

Dean didn’t realize Benny knew where he worked, but Benny sure as hell meant to find him there. It had been two weeks of dirty texts since they met, and Dean nearly jumped over the bar to kiss him; he was so excited. But then Dean remembered where he was and what he was: in his longtime crush’s bar and still in the closet.

He doubted it would hurt his tips at this point in the night, but a fat dose of reality was the next best thing to a cold shower he could get.

Dean nodded at Benny, tongue teasing the back of his teeth. “How’d you find me?”

“A girl’s got to have her secrets,” Benny chided. “I’ll take a bourbon, if you’d be so kind.”

Benny reached into his back pocket and Dean tisked at him. “C’mon man, your money’s no good here.”

“Is that so?” Benny smirked, before taking a lip smacking sip of the double Dean had poured him. Dean couldn’t wait to feel that stubble burning his skin once more. “What if I want to show my appreciation for the fine service?”

Dean shook his head and licked his lips.

“What?” Benny blanched.

Dean leaned in and whispered a reasonable six inches from Benny’s ear.

“After the fine service you gave me, you’ve got an unending tab,” Dean insisted.

Benny chuckled, rich and melodic. It made Dean feel like a teenager, so eager to hear that laugh again. A couple sat down beside Benny and Dean got pulled away into a string of orders after that. Jack, apparently, had given himself a break, and left Dean to hustle for a solid thirty minutes alone. All the while, Dean made sure Benny’s drink was filled.

Once Jack returned, Dean bailed. “Hey, I gotta grab some stock, your turn to do the one man show.”

Without a passing glance to Jack’s stunned face, Dean rounded the bar and nodded Benny to follow. Dean headed straight down the back hall, which led to the coolers and the office. Benny was a casual ten paces back. The second the walk-in’s door closed, Dean pushed Benny against it. Dean’s lips desperately latched on to Benny’s mouth. A mouth and beard that felt even better than Dean remembered.

Benny took Dean’s face in his massive hands, and slowed the kiss, drawing it out, and savoring it. He leisurely turned them until Dean’s back was the one pressed to the door. Which made Dean sigh just as Benny broke the kiss. Dean hooked his fingers into Benny’s belt and dragged him closer.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” Dean snipped, slotting his thigh between Benny’s.

“I had a notion.” Benny half smiled. “How long we got back here?”

“As long as we need. Forget the kid, he can figure it out.” Dean moaned as Benny lifted him off his feet with the nudge of his thick thigh between Dean’s legs.

“You say that like you actually are gonna leave him hanging. We both know you’re not that guy,” Benny teased, breath ghosting over Dean’s throat. Dean blushed.

“Yeah, you’re right, but I don’t want to think about leaving yet,” Dean whispered, hands sliding under Benny’s shirts and roaming his barrel chest. Dean could only imagine the power behind all that breadth. Benny sucked on Dean’s pulse point and began to rock into him.

Dean slid his fingers through Benny’s chest hair, relishing in the manly down. Dean dropped his left hand to palm Benny’s covered cock. The weight of him in Dean’s hand only fueled them both. Benny took Dean’s gasping mouth once more and they fell to a place beyond words.

The bass of the music pounded through the insulated walls, the only reminder of where they were at all. Dean started to undo Benny’s fly when suddenly the melody line and a cacophony of voices flooded the cool air. Dean hadn’t realized they had moved off the door until it was already open.

“Hey! There you are! Jack said you were getting stock. We’re out of Light and—,” Cas trailed off. “Is everything alright?”

Cas eyed Benny suspiciously.

Dean cleared his throat and shrugged, arms swinging awkwardly. “What? Yeah, everythings fine. Just grabbed an extra pair of hands for the kegs, man. Why?”

“You seemed flushed, Dean,” Cas noticed. Of course, Cas had suddenly become observant at that moment.

“That was Light and Hacker-pschorr, boss?” Benny interrupted.

“Yup. Alright, Cas, thanks. Why don’t you go and tell Jack we’re on our way?” Dean patted the door frame to get his point across. The door swung closed as Cas, still squinting, turned to go.

Dean unapologetically adjusted himself in his jeans as Benny dragged his fingers over the labels on the rows of silver barrels.

“Sorry about that,” Dean whispered, not looking Benny in the eye.

“Hey,” Benny called out to him, reaching for his elbow. “No matter to me who sees us. You good, cher?”

Dean inhaled deeply through his nose, and nodded. “Yeah. Or, I will be.”

Benny cocked his head and gave Dean an understanding smile.

“It’s like that, huh?” Benny guessed.

Dean closed his eyes at the disappointment he was sure to see etched onto Benny’s face. “I didn’t— Sorry, this isn’t fair to you,” Dean tried.

“Oh, Dean, that’s your battle to fight. But just so you know, I don’t scare so easy,” Benny winked at Dean and squatted down to lift his keg.

Dean about melted on the spot. How’d somebody like him find such a class act?

Benny shuffled out of the cooler. With his eyes on Dean the whole while, full of silent promises, Benny backed out of the door. Dean pinched his forehead and sighed before bending down to grab his share of the load.

“Coming through!” somebody bellowed.

Back to reality they went, with a whistle and a string of cat calls announcing their passage through the packed bar. Dean could have sworn he heard just as many appreciative male voices as female ones and he tensed in fear. He didn’t usually feel so exposed, but Cas’s interruption was just another reminder of all of the parts of himself he was used to being hidden.

“That’s my kind of bear, alright,” a skinny guy gushed to a petite brunette. Dean rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t blame the man for ogling Benny. He certainly was all bear.

Once Dean was back behind the bar, he felt suffocated with the amount of people surrounding him. He managed to hook up the kegs quickly, leaving Cas and Jack both breathing sighs of relief. Dean looked passed them to find Benny, who tipped his head and gave Dean a wistful salute.

“Thanks, Benny. I’ll be in touch,” Dean called out over the ruckus of the crowd, hand raised in a motionless wave.

Benny lifted his chin in agreement and disappeared out the side door.

Tagging:

@flamencodiva @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @fookinghelljensensthighs @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @wingedcatninja @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008

^*^*^^*

Part 3: Quality Assurance

#spnkinkbingo #denny #dean winchester/ benny #dean/benny #mlm #bear

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