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dearest-bucky · 4 years

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Jealous (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When a new agent joins the Avengers to work with them, Y/n gets jealous seeing the new woman go after her metal armed boyfriend.

Words: 5.9K

Warnings: a little angst, a lot of fluff, jealous reader, heavy make out sessions and that’s about it lol

A/n: Next to be posted will be ‘Jealous too’, even though they weren’t originally posted in this order.

Originally posted: January 7, 2020

One knock. Silence. One knock.

Their code.

She opened the door quickly, and with the same speed, without even looking, took hold of the hand on the other side and pulled him inside the room, closing the door again behind him.

“Did anyone see you coming here?” She asked in a hurried voice.

“No, you know I’m-”

Good.“- she didn’t let him finish his sentence, cutting him off with an urgent kiss.

Hands snaking one around his neck and the other in his long chocolate locks, while his kept her face caged between them and returned her kiss with the same urgency. Lips molded together, like a perfect fit, as if made for each other, they continued kissing until the need to breathe was too much. He rested his forehead against hers and with eyes still closed whispered so close to her lips she could feel the tingle of air from his hushed words.

"Hi, beautiful.”

“Hi.” She breathed back with a small smile that didn’t quite reached her eyes like it always did when he called her sweet names.

Yet, she was drunk from his lips and he was no better, still feeling the taste of her cherry lip balm on his tongue. “What was that about?” He asked in a light tone but his eyes locked with her trying to decipher the look in her face.

She simply shrugged and winked, playing it cool, trying to let go of him and put some distance between the two, suddenly his intense stare on her face making her feel exposed to him, as if he could read her deepest thoughts and feelings through her eyes.

Sometimes he really could. But now she tried to brush the awkwardness off with a small peck on his lips and turned around, finally freeing herself from both his arms and his eyes.

When her back was to him, she closed her eyes and took a short but deep breath to steady herself.

She took three short steps until she reached her bed and fell on the mattress heavily, sighing when her head hit the soft pillow.

“Are you coming to bed, Sarge?” she then asked him teasingly and despite his questioning look on her not faltering, he let out a chuckle and joined her between the sheets.

His lips found hers again and their bodies and souls became one for the rest of the night, before he’d have to sneak out of her room again in the crack of the dawn, just in the time Steve left the compound for his morning run.

This was their routine for the last two months. Bucky would come to y/n’s room every night, spend the moon illuminated hours in her bed with her, talking, kissing, watching movies, kissing again, talking some more, making love and holding each other close, kissing again, then he’d leave as soon as daylight came out, like a thief.

While they had created a solid relationship, it was y/n’s idea to keep their new love to themselves for the time being. Bucky of course couldn’t deny her anything and agreed immediately.

To him it didn’t matter that during the day they had to pretend to be just teammates, as long as he could get to hold her like he did at night. If she wanted to keep their relationship a secret, he was happy to comply. To fulfill her every wish.

Bucky fell asleep right after she tucked her head under his chin and planted a small kiss on his bare chest. On the other hand, y/n couldn’t close her eyes, or even stop her mind from over thinking.

While she was very satisfied and sated with their loving activities, her brain kept whirring inside her head, not letting her rest for the night.

The reason for that, was another woman.

A new agent of Sh.I.E.L.D, no older than 25 years old, named Kathy.

She was recommended by Fury himself to work with the Avengers, not as a part of the team but in their close circle.

Now y/n didn’t have anything against the girl in the beginning. When she first introduced herself to the team she was easy to talk to and a real treat for the eyes. She seemed genuine, but most importantly very capable at doing her job. And that pleased everyone, even y/n. However, things changed when in the debriefing room entered the ex-Winter Soldier himself and the new agent couldn’t find it in herself to hide the flirty smile and bedroom eyes she was directing to him. Bucky remained serious during the introduction meeting and only nodded once in her direction when he entered the room, but he didn’t miss either her not-so-subtle gestures towards him. Despite that, he didn’t lose his cool. He was used to the ladies’ attention but his was already solely focused on somebody else.

That somebody else being y/n.

from the chair she was sitting, y/n didn’t miss any of Kathy’s gestures towards Bucky and immediately started to regret thinking she was somewhat nice.

The meeting was the morning before and if that whole thing wasn’t enough, Kathy kept flirting with Bucky for the rest of the day. That’s what made y/n act a little weird with her boyfriend in the evening and that’s what kept her awake until the early morning.

****

It was almost two weeks later while training in the gym with the rest of the team, when another Kathy-episode happened. She was running on the treadmill and y/n was practicing hand-to-hand combat with Natasha when Bucky entered the gym too, to throw punches to the sandbag.

As soon as Kathy saw him, she waved a hand in his direction and a big smile on her face. It was easy to see that she was so enamored with the man.

He just gave her a lopsided smile and went about his work, not paying anymore attention.

Y/n didn’t miss their small interaction though and mentally slapped herself when she lost focus and Natasha gained the upper hand on her and slammed her on the mat.

“You got distracted.” She said simply with her signature smirk playing on her lips.

Y/n only rolled her eyes at her but didn’t reply. What could she say after all? That she was jealous of another woman flirting with Bucky? But no one knew about her relationship with him and it was her decision to keep it a secret, that’s why she couldn’t do anything about it now, seeing Kathy shamelessly flirt with him as if he was an available man. Again she couldn’t even blame the girl, because just like everyone else she didn’t know about Bucky and y/n, so she was technically free to pursue something with him.

Still, all of this was driving y/n crazy. Every time she saw Kathy near her boyfriend, she would lose her focus on everything at hand and become a mess. This time was no different.

Natasha helped her get up and started another round of sparring. Only when they were both tired and sweaty they stopped and left the gym without a word to Bucky or Kathy or anyone else in the gym.

“What happened back there?” Nat asked when they were in the lockers’ room, changing.

“Back where?”

“Oh, you know what I mean.” She winked, a teasing tone in her voice. “You saw Barnes and Kathy smiling to each other and just lost focus on everything else.”

Y/n tried avoiding her eyes, but the Black Widow didn’t miss the falter in her face.

“You have a thing for the Winter Soldier, huh?” She asked smugly, as if she made the discovery of the year. She was far from the truth, considering y/n didn’t just have a thing for him, but a thing with him.

“You do!” She continued. “And you’re scared that you’re gonna miss your chance if Kathy keeps giving him the bedroom eyes.”

Y/n’s head snapped up to Natasha. She hadn’t thought of that. Sure Kathy kept flirting with Bucky all the time and sure she was jealous as fuck but when Nat mentioned the bedroom eyes she thought of the possibility of Bucky sleeping with her and that hurt. A lot.

Without saying anything to Natasha she finished getting dressed and left, going directly to her room and locking herself in.

She was a mess. She spent the rest of the day alone in her room and to make the matter worse, not even a word from Bucky. She knew that was their agreement, no meetings during the day to not get caught from the team, but today she needed to have him there. She didn’t though, and she didn’t do anything to change that.

Only when night fell and the whole team went to their private quarters, not long after came the two separate knocks on her door.

When she opened it and Bucky came in, there was no kiss, no hug, she barely acknowledged him with a simple “hi” before getting in her bed again.

Bucky was surprised by her behavior, he walked behind her and got in the bed to lay on the other side of it.

“You okay doll?” He asked sweetly, but she could sense the underlying worry in his voice.

He put a piece of hair behind her ear and started slowly stroking her cheek, waiting for an answer. She closed her eyes at the contact and a small sigh left her lips.

“Yeah.”

“Talk to me?” He tried getting her to say more than one word answers.

“Baby..” he lowered his head and kissed her cheek lightly.

Only when his lips left her skin, she opened her eyes and a small ghost of a smile escaped her own mouth.

He locked eyes with her, waiting for her to open up and share what was going on. His hand didn’t stop caressing the soft skin of her cheek, moving slowly to her jaw and then again up to her cheek, not letting her go.

“Bucky..” she barely whispered. He would have almost miss hearing her say his name if it wasn’t for him being so close to her.

“Yeah, doll.”

She let out a breath she had been holding for so long that day and briefly closed her eyes again, only to open them one more time a second later.

Bucky was standing so close to her, she could feel his fresh breath on her face, his hand continuing the mindless patterns on her face. She was getting overwhelmed by the closeness, suddenly every sense of her being invaded by his presence.

He was waiting for her to speak up and say something, but she couldn’t. She slowly reached her own hand to his chest, bunching the material of his shirt there in her fist.

“Please hold me.” She literally begged and her voice came out as a whimper.

She was feeling low, had been feeling that way all day. Natasha’s words had been only a spur to the fire of her unforgiving thoughts. She loved Bucky and she was so scared to lose him.

Just as the words left her mouth Bucky wrapped her in his strong arms and enveloped her in a big embrace, all the while peppering kisses on top of her head.

She held on tightly to his shirt, keeping him there, making sure he wasn’t going to leave and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“I love you.” She mumbled quietly in his skin before closing her eyes and finally letting herself rest peacefully for the rest of the night. Bucky however, totally missed her words, but as he felt her lips on his skin and then her soft breath evening he kept placing kisses on her head and mumbled an “I love you” of his own that she missed too.

****

Another day, another mission.

Another Hydra base to knock down.

This one was a big facility in eastern Europe and the whole team was needed there, even some extra hands from other agents, including Kathy.

Bucky was fighting alongside Steve, killing Hydra thugs one after one, and y/n was a few meters away from them, doing the same job. She was taking down two agents at once, when a third one came behind her with a knife, trying to jab her in the back.

No one was there to help, but just as the agent was about to stab her, she heard Bucky’s voice calling out for her.

“Y/n, get down!” He yelled and she blindly followed his instructions, never giving it a second thought.

Not even a moment later she heard a gunshot from the distance and the bullet hit the agent behind her right in the head. He fell with a loud thud and y/n spared him a quick glance before turning to Bucky again and smiling to him in gratitude. He had saved her life.

The mission was long, but thankfully everyone was okay. When they were in the Quinjet, on their way back home Bucky went to y/n and touched her shoulder lightly.

“You okay?” He asked. “You scared me for a second there doll.” He added in a hushed voice and gave her a look worth a million words. He wanted to grab her and hold her close and make sure she was okay, but he couldn’t because of her decision to keep them a secret.

“Yeah, Buck, thanks.” She whispered back with a smile. She wanted to wrap herself around him and have him hug her close and for a moment she forgot about the rest of the team and agents being there, she was going to let herself go, but only then behind them came none other than Kathy.

“Hello, Sergeant.” She greeted him in a light tone and a wide smile then directed her look at y/n. “Y/l/n” she acknowledged her too with a nod of her head.

Y/n pursed her lips in a straight line and nodded back. Bucky just smiled politely at her. He wanted to be alone with y/n at the moment, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen any time soon, because Kathy didn’t leave, but kept glancing at them one at a time.

“Do you need anything?” Y/n asked this time, annoy clearly detectable in her voice, but she couldn’t mask it even if she tried. The woman got on her nerves, made her uneasy.

It wasn’t that y/n felt like Kathy was better than her in any way, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling of her being a threat to her relationship with Bucky.

“Actually, yes.” She said, seemingly unaware of the tension in the air. “I need Sergeant Barnes to help me with the file we extracted from the Hydra base we just took down.” Her eyes locked on Bucky this time and she smiled his way, trying to get him to go with her.

Y/n went stiff beside Bucky and he felt her being uncomfortable in the presence of Kathy. Only then his mind linked the dots to what was happening more and more lately.

Every time Kathy got near him, y/n would leave the room in a hurry without sparing any of them a second glance. And every time, she was sad when he got to her room at night. Now he could understand why.

Y/n was about to leave when Bucky grabbed her hand and locked eyes with her for a moment before turning to Kathy again, answering her with the same polite smile as before.

“We can do that later. Right now I have something to discuss with y/n.”

Either woman wasn’t expecting that answer from him, but they didn’t say anything to disagree.

The first to react was y/n, tightening the grip on his hand while mentally doing a happy little dance of victory.

Kathy on the other hand, kept her smile, trying to maintain it easy, but failing a little and nodded her head.

“Okay then, I will see you later.” And with that she left.

Bucky turned to y/n and winked, before they both sat down close to each other, still keeping a small distance to not make the others suspicious of the type of the relationship they had. They talked all the time during the flight back home, never leaving each other’s side.

****

If Tony Stark knew how to do anything right, that was throwing parties. Just like every other time he had gone out of his way to make the thing shiny and loud, crowded with people on every corner of the place.

The Avengers were gathered all together in a small group, drinking and chatting with each other, the atmosphere pleasing despite everything. Rare were their time off, so they tried to enjoy it as much as they could.

Y/n was sitting between Sam and Steve on the couch, Bucky propped on a chair next to Steve, Natasha, Clint, Wanda and Vision all around in a circle. She was having a good night in the presence of her friends, but that was quickly ruined when she saw on her peripheral vision Kathy coming their way, nursing a drink of her own in her hands. She was smiling widely and swaying to the beat of the music as she made her way towards the group.

“Evening Avengers.” She greeted them all and was now standing close to them, behind Vision’s back. Everyone said ‘hello’ to her. Everyone except y/n. She only gave her a small forced smile but no one even noticed.

Vision turned around to see Kathy and ever the gentleman, without losing time, he offered her to sit in his chair with his characteristic polite voice.

“Oh no.” She refused. “I don’t wanna sit. I’ve been sitting all night. I actually came here to ask if anyone wanted to dance. I was getting a little bored with the other agents only drinking.” She explained excitedly and her eyes traveled to everyone’s faces before stopping at Bucky.

When nobody answered her, all men trying to avoid her gaze and pretending to be too tired or too drunk to dance, she turned to Bucky again. “What about you Bucky?” She asked expectantly, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

“I- um.. I don’t…” If they weren’t seeing it with their own eyes, no one would ever believe Bucky Barnes was having a hard time answering to a dame’s invite to dance.

He discreetly looked at y/n, but she didn’t glance back at him, too preoccupied with her glass of wine.

“Go and dance with her punk, you haven’t danced at all.” Steve nudged his arm and Bucky was about to punch his best friend in the face for speaking.

“Yeah Bucky, go dance with her.” This time it was y/n speaking and that shocked Bucky a little, not expecting that, but he could hear the almost daunting tone in her voice and he looked at his girlfriend again, then got up to join Kathy for a dance, but not before sending a teasing wink on y/n’s way.

Well, two could play a game, he thought.

When they left y/n downed the rest of her drink then got up too and nearly dragged Sam on the dance floor with her.

She wasn’t going to let her night be ruined because of some other woman having a crush on her boyfriend. As long as Bucky loved only her, everything was fine.

She danced with Sam for a long time, all the while stealing glances at Bucky and Kathy discreetly. The woman seemed to have the time of her life, while Bucky was slowly but surely growing more and more comfortable with her.

That didn’t bother y/n that much, she was kind of glad Bucky was having a good time, even if it wasn’t with her. She was also having a good time with Sam, dancing and joking with him the whole time. But that changed as soon as a slow song came on and she saw Kathy enthusiastically snake her arms around Bucky’s neck.

She left the dance floor in a hurry and when Bucky noticed her leaving, he excused himself from the other woman to follow behind his girl.

He caught her at the hallway near the ballroom, grabbed her hand and turned her to face him.

“Where are you going love?”

She had a wild look in her eyes, one he hadn’t seen before. A look that screamed JEALOUS in front of his face.

“You…” She started talking but wasn’t sure what to say, silencing for a moment before speaking again. “Were you trying to make me jealous on purpose?”

“Why, were you jealous doll?” He asked with a teasing voice, almost mocking her and that only gained him a growl from her.

They were staring in each other’s eyes, like it was a contest, trying to see who would lose and break the eye contact first.

“You know I was.” She admitted simply and he lit up at her words. He grinned like stupid but decided he wasn’t going to let up, trying to get more of a reaction from her.

“So what are you going to do about it?” He asked again, testing her patience.

He soon got what he wanted, as she pushed him a few steps back, until his back touched the wall of the hall and she quickly locked her hands in his hair and her lips with his. She kissed him hungrily while tugging at his locks and he groaned in her mouth.

“Someone will see us doll.” He spoke in her mouth, not breaking the kiss.

“You think I care?” She replied quickly, moving her mouth to his jaw, nipping there for a moment before going to his neck and attacking the skin there with kisses and small bites.

He chuckled deeply at her response and barely kept a moan from leaving his mouth when she hit a certain soft spot in his neck with her lips.

“But they’ll know, our secret will be out.” He continued teasing her with words but his hands were holding her impossibly close, moving across her back until they went down to her ass and gave it a squeeze that made her yelp in surprise.

She removed her lips from his neck and gave him a look that was horny and innocent at the same time. “I don’t care.” She said quietly before she kissed his mouth again, with the same passion as before.

He smiled before surrendering to her lips, not talking anymore.

****

“It’s a simple mission Bucky. Because Natasha is on a solo mission in France and y/n sprained her ankle last week, I’m forced to pair you with Kathy on this one.” Steve explained to him, but Bucky wasn’t listening. He only knew that he couldn’t go in a mission alone with Kathy or y/n would be very upset about it.

“Punk, why do I have to be the one going with her? Why don’t you send Sam? Or even better, why don’t you go yourself?” He was trying to change his mind without saying anything about y/n.

Despite their little adventure on the hallway two weeks ago, they soon moved to his room and nobody saw them together, so their relationship was still a secret to the rest of the world, even though with every passing day they would be seen closer to each other than before, sitting together during dinners or movie nights and even training together in the gym.

“It has to be you Buck, you know the area better than anyone else and she is the only good option I currently have to do the job. It’s just a mission rec. Kathy will extract the information we need and you will watch her back. It will be over in a few hours anyway.”

Steve wasn’t letting it go, and Bucky was sure there was no way to change his mind now. Besides, he was right, it seemed an easy mission so it would be over quickly. But he still wasn’t sure of how to tell the news to y/n. He was thinking of ways to let her know without upsetting her, but couldn’t come up with anything.

As if Steve read his thoughts, he spoke up. “I’m sure y/n will understand.”

Bucky looked up to his best friend and opened his mouth in surprise. Steve knew?

“Wha.. I- umm… wha-what are you talking about? What does this have anything to do with y/n?” He stumbled upon his own words and Steve only smirked at him.

“You’re not as good at keeping secrets as you thought you were jerk. Now go tell your girl. I’m sure she will understand.”

Bucky only nodded, not knowing what to say. He turned around to leave Steve’s office, then turned back to his friend and gave him a small smile, before opening the door and leaving, making a beeline to y/n’s room.

If only it was as easy as Steve made it seem when he told y/n about it.

They were currently in her room and she was giving him the silent treatment, arms folded on her chest and lips forming a pout Bucky only wanted to kiss away from her face.

But he couldn’t. She got upset 10 minutes ago when he told him about the mission he had to go in with Kathy tomorrow.

Now she was upset, mad and sad at the same time.

“Babydoll, listen to me.” He tried talking to her again, making her understand that it was just a job needing to be done. When he touched her cheek she finally snapped and opened her mouth to speak.

“No, I listened to you enough Bucky. Why can’t Steve send someone else with you? Wanda for example?”

“Because she’s the-”

“Or why can’t he send someone else with her? There are a lot of agents in Sh.I.E.L.D that can do the job and I’m sure someone can go.” She finished in a hurried voice. “But not you Bucky.”

Bucky hated this. He hated seeing her sad because of him. He hated Steve for making him go in this mission. But it was his job. He had to do it.

“Baby, I can’t not go. You know that I can’t.” He tried reasoning with her again, but she got up from her bed and winced when her sore ankle touched the floor, but didn’t let up and headed to her bathroom.

He reached to help her walk but she moved away from him and got inside the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

“You can show yourself out Bucky. Goodnight.” She called from inside the bathroom and opened the faucet, letting the water pour, not wanting to listen to any more of his words.

He was stunned by her action but simply let her be, not wanting to upset her anymore. “Okay baby, goodnight.” He said in a low voice, fully knowing she couldn’t listen to him and then went to his own room.

When y/n got out of the bathroom almost 15 minutes later, a part of her was hoping Bucky was still there, but when she realized that he was nowhere in sight, she sighed in disappointment and got in her bed more upset than she was before. Maybe this was for the best.

****

The next morning, she was still asleep when Bucky knocked only once and got inside her room without waiting for her response to let him in. He found her asleep, sprawled across the bed, wearing one of his shirts that she had 'stolen’ from him and a pair of shorts. Her blanket had fallen on the floor. He smiled at the sight.

He grabbed the blanket and covered her body with it and moved a piece of hair from her face to see her. He crouched down and kissed her forehead, then her eyes, to move slowly to her cheeks until she started to stir in her sleep. He knew she was waking up but he didn’t stop his kisses.

Before any of them left for a mission, they had this tradition of a good-luck-and-come-back-home-safe kiss and Bucky didn’t want to miss that.

She slowly opened her eyes, blinking the sleep away and he was still kissing her face.

“Good morning sweet girl.” He said with a soft voice and a small kiss on the tip of her cold nose.

“Buck..” she spoke still not fully awake, enjoying this way of waking up a little too much. Her brain was still asleep so she didn’t remember any of the things that happened last night, but then he spoke again and she came to her senses quickly.

“I’m here to get my to-go-kiss.” He said and only then she pushed his body with her hands, creating some distance between them.

“Oh..” she simply said, mentally slapping herself for falling so easily for his sweet kisses. “You’re still going in that mission?” She asked then.

He sighed and nodded his head. “Baby we talked about it. It’s my job and I have to do it, you need to understand.”

“Yeah of course, I totally understand.” She replied in a much colder tone and moved further away from him, pressing her back on the headboard.

He stared at her and tried getting closer again. “Gimme my kiss.” He said like a spoiled child, trying to light her mood, but it wasn’t working.

“Just go Bucky. You’re going to be late.” She totally ignored his request and turned her head on the side, not meeting his eyes anymore.

Bucky was hurt. He knew she would still be upset, but no natter what happened between them, when there was a mission ahead, there was always a good luck kiss. This time apparently not.

“Doll…” he tried again but she didn’t spare him another glance, keeping her head to the side, suddenly the lamp on her nightstand the most interesting thing in the world.

He sighed, dejected.

“I’ll see you when I come back then.” He talked in a hushed, almost broken voice and leaned in to give her a kiss on her temple, then left the room without another word.

Y/n knew she was acting stupid. She knew it wasn’t his fault for being paired up with Kathy in this mission and most importantly she knew she would always regret not giving him the lucky kiss now. She pondered her options for a moment, before getting up from the bed and following behind him.

Bucky arrived at the Quinjet hangar like a kicked out puppy. No matter how much he tried he couldn’t get y/n to understand and now she wouldn’t even kiss him goodbye before the mission. Kathy was already waiting for him there, she greeted him and got in the jet first, waiting for him to join her.

He was about to get in too, when he heard her voice behind his back, calling his name desperately.

“Buck!” She called again and he turned around, almost not believing when he saw her limping a little on her way to him. He took a few steps in her direction too and when they met he grabbed her and hoisted her in his strong arms, his hands behind her knees and her legs around his middle, holding on to him. She hugged him tightly and hid her face in his neck, breathing shy apologies for his ears only.

He put a hand on her face and made her look at him in the eyes, her own glossy with tears.

“I’m sorry Buck.” She repeated and he shook his head, trying to tell her it was okay, that she needn’t apologize for anything and pushed his lips to hers, silencing her words with a kiss. She whimpered in his mouth but returned the kiss, all too eager to finally be able to do just that.

Meanwhile Kathy was watching all the scene from the small gate of the jet, mouth hanging open in shock. She had seen Bucky and y/n close before, but they never did anything to let her know something was going on between them. They kept kissing, acting as if she wasn’t there at all, as if they were the only people in the whole world. To them, they were.

Slowly, y/n was the first to break the kiss and Bucky grunted quietly when he lost the feel of her lips on his.

“I’m sorry Buck.” Y/n resumed again with her apologizing and he smiled this time.

“It’s okay doll, I know you were upset.”

“Yeah, I was, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t give you the lucky kiss. If anything is to happen to you in that mission, I would never forgive myself. Because it would be my fault.” She spoke slowly, still in his arms, feeling already better about everything.

“Everything is well, y/n. You don’t need to worry sweetheart.” He replied. “I’ll be back in 5 hours tops and then we’ll spend the rest of the day in your bed. Sounds good?”

She nodded, smiling and was about to reply to him, when the voice of Kathy interrupted them.

“Sergeant Barnes, I’m sorry but we have to leave now if we don’t want to be late.” She informed him with a formal voice, not a hint of her previous flirty tone and went inside the jet.

Y/n untangled herself from Bucky and rested her feet on the ground. “You should go.” She said softly to him but her arms were still around his neck and his never let go of her waist.

He hummed and gave her a quick peck on the lips, finally letting go of each other, but at the last moment she tugged at his hand again and gave him another full kiss on the mouth, leaving them both breathless.

“Another good luck kiss.” She shrugged and he laughed. “Wanted to make sure it will do its magic right.”

He kissed her lips again not caring about Kathy waiting for him in the jet or being late for the mission or any other thing in the world. All he cared about was in his arms.

“I love you.” She breathed when he let go of her lips and his eyes widened because it was the first time she ever said it out loud.

There had been a lot of times when he wanted to tell her he loved her, but he was afraid he was going to scare her away with saying it so soon, considering she wasn’t even ready to let the team know about them.

A wide grin split his lips and she mirrored his face.

“I love you too, doll.” He didn’t hesitate to say the words back and she quickly pecked his lips again. This time for the last time before letting him go.

He turned around and got in the Quinjet quickly, Kathy already in the pilot seat.

“So, you and y/l/n, huh?” She asked amused, not even an ounce of malice in her voice.

He smiled at her and turned his head back to y/n to send her a wink before the gate of the jet closed and it took off to its destination. She could still see her smiling widely and waving at him.

Bucky couldn’t wait to come back home to his girl.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines

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horrorslashergirl · 3 years

Text

The Lurking One: A Shadow Horror Story

Authors Note: Decided to write a story for my newest Slasher OC, Shadow. People seem to really like him, despite him not having a face claim. lol

Warning: 18+ for horror, gore and torture, plus add in trauma

Words: 2.4k words

It was one of these late at night study sessions for the ones that slacked during the year and had to catch up with what they lost; Giula was one of them and she cursed herself for letting her time be filled with sorority activities and parties.

The Northeastern University campus was empty save for the security guard; Guila being the only student who was currently in the library catching up to a project that was due to tomorrow. She could have done it back at the sorority house, but she knew the girls would distract her and tempt her with other activities such as preparing for a college festival that was in two weeks.

Her grades were more important than social activities that would print into her status, not to mention her parents who had a talk with her about the fact that college wasn't a gateway for drinking and hooking up with guys.

Guila sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, checking the old antique clock of the library.

10:35 PM

Her gaze moved back to the tons of files and books on the wood desk she was sat at. She just finished the project, but she needed to revise it to make sure everything was perfectly done. The grade for this project was important and she wasn't looking for another discussion with her parents and the headmaster.

She will look it over in the morning; she needed to be fresh tomorrow for the presentation and looking like a crackhead in front of the judges wasn't a pro in the book. Putting everything back into her bag neatly, she pulled her hair out of the tight ponytail, letting her auburn locks fall freely down her back, almost to the hips.

Walking out of the library and locking the door; thank God the old library lady was a sweetheart and left the keys for her to close. She walked down the hallways and taking the old victorian ascensor to the low floor. Before she could exit the building she stopped by the cubicle of the security guard, handing him the keys.

"All done for tonight, dear?" Arthur asked, taking the keys and setting them on his desk.

"Well, finally so. I will have to own Mrs. Hariot for leading me the keys to the library." Giula told the old man with a smile.

"Ahhh...She's an angel among here. Trust me, it was her pleasure." he old the girl, sitting back down at his desk, a copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen was on the desk.

"Have a good night without incidents, Sir." Giula told the gentleman guard who nodded.

"Nothing ever happens around here. Kids nowadays don't read books anymore, so I don't think someone will try to break into the library." Arthur joked, making Giulia giggle and nod, although feeling a little by what he said.

"I suppose so. Good night." the girl waved off, stalking towards the exit.

"Likewise, dear!" Arthur called after her, going back to the classic novel.

As she opened the door, a chilly air hit Giulia in the face, making her wrap her arms around herself. It was definitely colder than when she got in the morning here. It was earlier spring, the days warm, but the nights reminding that the winter just recently moved away.

She was wearing a white button-down with dark blue jeans and some ballet flats that made her legs all shaky; her light brown cardigan not helping at all. She couldn't wait to get back to the sorority house and bask in the warmness of her bed and away from the coldness of the night.

It was just a 20 minutes long time walk to the house, but it seemed like much more to her now that she was all alone and shivering like a hairless cat.

Mentally, she cursed her parents for not letting her drive, always scolding her that she wasn't ready. Overly protective parents and their old school mentality always made Giulia feel like she was still a baby. She was 22 and in the second year of college for Christ's sake.

She couldn't wait to finish college and get a job; Oh the dream of having her own apartment and not having to deal with doll-like girls who owned Porches all because of their wealthy daddies. Now thinking more about it, she was the only one who didn't have an overly rich family; maybe the girls kept her because she was the only one who was first to clean a mess, make breakfast when the others were hungover.

The streets were all deserted, none was outside, most people here being locals since birth or college students who basked in cheap beer and gossips at this hour.

This neighbor that gave off hostel-like vibes made her skin be covered in goosebumps, smelling a faint scent of weed, beer and hearing the music blasting from the apartments above. The police wouldn't come to stop the noise, since there was none to be bothered by the hypnotic beat.

Guila could feel eyes on her, but every time she turned around to take a look there was none, just the slight wet streets and alleyways that adored this place. Each time she passed one, she would halt her walking, afraid two big clawed hands will brisk her away into darkness.

She rolled her eyes as a guy from above cat-called her, probably drunk off his ass, and his girlfriend a few feet away from him at the window making out with his best friend.

Boston really was filled up with these types of students, getting great opportunities and throwing said blessing out the window because of blinding hormones, and the idea of being young means I'm indestructible.

'Just 10 more minutes and you will be home.' Giulia thought to herself, but it quickly went off the window as pain shot through her scalp, before she knew it she was dragged into the darkness of an alleyway.

One strong arm wrapped around the middle section of her waist, but the other moved to her neck, feeling the prickle of something cold against her neck; a blade, a knife, something that was indeed sharp.

"Scream and you can say arrivederci to your precious vocal cords." the person that held her spoke, voice raspy and very eerie, definitely a male.

"P-Please...Don't kill me." Giulia whispered, afraid that if she raises her voice too much, he won't keep on his promises.

"Shush now. I heard that line all too many times and it gets very monotonous." the man spoke right by her ear, running what she assumed was a scalpel over her cut, not slitting her throat, but surely making a small cut to show that he wasn't playing games.

She was panicking, her breathing getting more on the hysterical edge, then she did the first thing she could think of. She kicked him in one of his shins, making him groan, but he didn't back off. He did throw her in the opposite direction of the alleyway against the brick wall. Giulia grunted and whimpered as she hit the ground right into a puddle.

Her hazel eyes looked up and she felt terror strick her as he stalked over to her wet and bruised form, like a panther ready to pounce on its prey. She could scream, but the music from the apartments above was so loud she wouldn't have a chance in someone hearing her.

One cold leather-gloved hand wrapped around her neck and he slammed her back into the wall, showing so much strength that got her the image of him snapping her tiny neck like a twig.

"That was some dirty move you put up there, little wench. Although I am a very patient man." he whispered, and now that he was in front of her, she could make out what he looked like.

He was wearing all black, probably a very expensive tailored suit with a scarlet red tie, not even a glimpse of skin was shown. What really caught her attention was his vintage-looking fedora and the creepy raven like a mask.

A doctor purge mask? She heard of them from her brother who was very into history.

"W-Who are you?" Giulia choked, his hand tightening around her throat at the question.

He hummed like he was deep in thought.

"I think the public eye has birthed me as the Shadow." he answered her question.

It took only a few seconds for Giulias eyes to widen and her body to tremble. She heard on the news about him; the unknown brutal killer, never seen, none to survive to tell the story and how they described his murderers on television.

The killer known now as Shadow chuckled at her horrified face.

"Ahhhh....So you heard of me. Good. I hate to explain information to someone who cannot even work their brain enough to avoid someone dangerous." he mused, making the young woman whimper and cry, then she began to swing her legs in an attempt to hurt him.

Only for her head to be slammed multiple times against the brick wall until her vision blacked and she fell on the dirty ground by the pristine black Oxfords he was sporting.

----------------------------------

The lightbulb above flickered to life and Giulia opened her eyes, looking around like a desperate animal caged, or more like chained by her neck, a metal collar digging into the skin of her neck and creating red and purple marks.

Her doe-like eyes looking around and stopped on the black-clad figure.

The Shadow.

"Ahh...I'm glad you're awake. I might think I hit your head too many times on the brick wall. I usually prefer drugging my victims, but you were acting like too much of a mindless animal." he began to spoke so fluently, calm, like everything that was going on was a normal occurrence for him; like discussing the weather over a few drinks.

The man was laying some tools neatly on a metal table; surgical tools, like scalpels, forceps, scissors, retractors, and clamps. Giulia felt a bile form in her throat, starting to tug on the heavy chain that was bounded against the concrete wall; no luck.

"Let m go, you fucker!" she screamed and in an instant, her back meet the cold wall, gloved hand grasping her jaw tightly as the leather beak of the mask brushed against her face.

"You smell putrid, although there is that faint strawberry scent of your perfume." he commented, fingertips digging more into her jaw and making her whimper and sob.

In his free hand, he held a pair of surgical retractors and her eyes widened when he forced her mouth open, one finger pulling her upper lip to expose her pearly white teeth and pink gums.

"You have a nice set of teeth there. I adore your canines especially." he whispered, then he grasped one of her canines with the retractor, tugging on it and forcing a pain-filled scream from Giulia; the next twin teeth following.

Her tears filled eyes looking as he held both canines between black covered fingers.

"Very impeccable indeed." he murmured, going back to the table.

The metallic taste of blood and sterisol filled her mouth, scarlet dripping down her chin.

She knew this was far from over as his thumb run over the shiny scalpel.

--------------------------------------

Giulia didn't know how much time has flown; one month, maybe two? She hadn't seen the light of the day in so long and she wished dead would overcome her.

She was in so much pain; the things Shadow did to her. First the canines, then her fingernails went off and when she spat on his mask she thought she was going to die as he poured acidic fluid down her scalp; her beautiful long hair was just a burned memory.

Dead was supposed to come, but the sadist treated her wounds like an expert at the hospital, only to remind her that death was far away from her.

Then the begging, telling him what she will do anything, even getting on her knees and possibly giving him new ideas. His words were absolute humiliation.

"I know what you're implying, ignorant wench." he told her as his gloved hands were running down her naked hips, then he left her.

"I'm not a rapist, darling. Never found any fascination with taking someone against their own will in that way. I prefer my slave to be willing, but you're not. So I advise next time you keep these sick fantasies to yourself." he told her, mocking and making her feel even more stupid.

She caught glimpses of him doing awful things to the other girls; one of them skinned alive and every muscle on full display.

"You're just too perfect, aren't you?" he told Giulia, making her a confused mess.

---------------------------------------------

She did manage to trick him when he was busy piercing her earlobes multiple types, having to bite her tongue as she stole the keys to her chains.

Then when he found her moving down the hallways; she almost got her leg blown off when he used a shotgun after her. She had opened the door to the exit and was meet with the night. Running through the forest, looking behind her over and over.

Her luck was finally getting to the principal road and a car passed by, getting in, and again she was in danger. The old man tried to rape her, but she was brave enough to jump out of the car when they were in town.

After 30 minutes of limping around the streets, she finally spotted a police car that was patrolling.

Interrogations followed, but she always spoke the same words, too traumatized by the events.

'He is tall and in all black. He doesn't seem human. No human could do this. He pulled all her skin off like she was a rabbit. His voice, makes me wanna throw up, it's so raspy it makes me wanna be deaf so I cannot hear it anymore in my head. What he did to the other girls...I cannot describe. He said that I'm perfect. What was that supposed to mean?'

Her parents were devasted when they found out about everything that happened and her mother fell on her knees crying over and over when she finally saw Giulia face to face.

The worst was that she could no longer be let on her own; nightmares, voices, aggressive outbursts, and feeling like she was constantly followed. She was scared of her own shadow.

When the police found the whereabouts of where Giulia was held everything was gone, not even a spot of blood like there was none there in the first place.

Why clean it all up if Shadow wanted the bodies to be found in the first place?

Needless to say...Nights in Boston weren't safe anymore.

#The Shadow #Serial Killer #Salem #Boston #Horror story #creepy story #original characters #slasher oc

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but-master · 3 years

Note

[🥀 for guin?]

Tales of Love II No Longer Accepting II So this is uh... really long slkdfj so sorry! No warnings apply except for brief mentions of show-typical violence and so much pining it hurts lol II Words: 2571 II Prompt: 🥀 - disappointed love

When Guinevere was born, she was graced with a name that meant “fair one.” It was auspicious, hopeful, promising her to good things as she grew—good things like a good marriage. One of royal importance and grandeur; it meant she would never want for anything, and she would be blessed by the heavens above.

As she grew into the name, her hair light and long, shining like gold in the sun, the promises only grew more tantalizing. Her father could see increasingly higher-stationed names lining up by the day, as she was reared strong, brave, kind, and just. She was sharp and quick-witted, and though she was no knight, she was brought up with a bow in her hands; no queen of Cameliard would ever find herself defenseless.

At least… not again.

Guinevere had been too young to hear the thunder of horses as they approached, or to know what that meant. She had been just able to open her eyes, just able to cry, when her father was left to pick up the pieces of Cameliard alone, after days of siege. As soon as she’d been old enough to understand what sharp things were, and what they could do to a creature, she’d been fitted for a shortbow, with the assurance that she’d graduate to longbows as she came of age. They would not lose a second queen.

She was only seven summers old when her father interrupted her shooting practice, though, and gently took the bow from her hands, replacing it with a small, wooden box, inside of which rested her mother’s childhood tiara. It was gold, polished to gleaming, and along the metal were set tiny, white pearls. Obligation had caught her at last, and the time for tricks and play had ended.

Days later, when Guinevere turned it over in her hands before she entered the halls of Camelot—for which she’d been given the thing in the first place—she noticed a small dent in the band, about the size of her thumb pad. It made her giggle.

Even her own mother had been a… what was the world her father used sometimes? A “spitfire.”

She’d dented her own crown.

Or perhaps that was what Guinevere chose to imagine. The thought that anything else could have caused the blemish did not once occur to her, even as she grew older, and learned to think deeply about everything, down to the smallest sound or littlest loose thread.

There was something comforting about being like the mother she couldn’t remember, but had always heard good things of.

When she’d entered the halls of Camelot’s court, she’d stood straight, chin up, the combs of the tiara digging into her scalp. She wondered distantly if her mother had complained about the sensation.

She wondered if she was doing as well as she had at her age.

The thought was abandoned, however, as she concentrated hard when she granted Uther Pendragon her best curtsey, and then a second to the beautiful, famed Queen Igraine. Something in her chest swelled when the lady presented her with a private smile for her troubles. It felt like she was being let in on some secret sisterhood. From queen to princess, encouragement passed.

Guinevere practically floated through the dance steps the rest of the night.

Even when Arthur, the boy her age—the Camelot prince—tripped over her feet, she hardly felt it, and did not stumble, despite the way his grip on her hand tightened in his panic, threatening to topple her with him.

Instead, she helped correct his footfalls from the corner of her mouth, and as she did so, he looked at her with huge eyes, blue as the seas in her picture books. He mumbled a “thank you” as soft as kitten fur, as sweet as the honey she put in her milk, when her baroness said she was allowed to—fine, but you can’t do it too often; it’s no good for children to become spoiled.

She didn’t think Arthur was spoiled.

He’d said “thank you,” after all.

His demeanor remained soft as they grew, and she continued to believe in his virtue, but the shy sweetness he’d shown her when he was young began to only occur around her, when they were alone for only flashes of moments, before someone came looking for the pair of them, who weren’t supposed to be alone together outside of the view of chaperones and guards alike. Even when Morgana was around—her dearest friend, and closest companion—Arthur took on the behaviour of a knight, a strong and cold defender, from behind imaginary armor, painted with the colors of Camelot’s flags.

It was not hard to watch, Guinevere was fairly sure. She didn’t think it hurt so bad to see him that way. He was being strong for her.

He was being strong for her, so she started leaving her bow at home when she came to visit Camelot— often for months at a time, much to her father’s delight.

Without her bow, and without regular training, her skills plateaued in her late teenage years, but she was always assured that this was alright.

Especially after Arthur, who’d grown tall and broad, pulled Caliburn from stone, and later, by the candlelight in his chambers, he’d sworn into her hand that she’d never feel endangered again. He’d keep her safe as long as he lived, as long as she allowed him so, as he pressed kisses to her fingers and the tiny bones in her wrists.

Her chest had been fluttery when she’d agreed. She’d let herself be protected, for as long as he would swear to protect her, and she’d leaned over to seal it with a kiss.

The promise that had passed that day had been timed well; Cameliard was inching ever closer to war, as the city tensed for oncoming marauders. To have someone swear to keep her safe, as her thoughts dwelled near always on her father and his kingdom… how could she possibly say no?

Even as she wished for not only her own safety, but the safety of her people, as well, she could not find it in herself to say no. It was selfish, she thought, but, then, she’d never pretended that she wasn’t.

So, truthfully, it was no shock when Leodegrance met with Merlin, Camelot’s court wizard, and Arthur’s official advisor, not a few weeks later, to discuss her dowry.

Merlin was the closest thing to a royal ambassador that Camelot had, for their prince was still so young, not yet married, not yet having achieved victory in war.

Meanwhile, as the invaders pressed harder at Cameliard’s borders, the people were crying out louder and louder by the day for hope, for some good news.

In the end, the decision was easy.

Leodegrance met with Merlin, and the conversation was brief.

One turn of the moon later, she and Arthur were wedded. Her father sent her to live in Camelot full-time, and with her, she brought a grand round table made of sturdy oak—it had been Uther’s before he’d died, had been passed to her father for safekeeping, until Arthur could inherit it.

As Arthur was granted a golden crown and declared king of all Camelot—which now included Cameliard— it was deemed time. So, he was given the round table, and began to seek out those who would fill its chairs.

Guinevere was passed over entirely.

It didn’t hurt as much as she’d expected it would.

When she was younger, her father had told her stories of her mother. He’d pointed at the stars from where Guinevere craned her neck out her window to see, and he’d described to her which ones her mother loved; he’d told her the stories she’d told him, the ones she’d make up on the spot to describe why she saw shapes in them. She was creative, her father said. She was creative and bold, and her humor could have made a sailor’s toes curl. She’d had hair like gold as well, and when Guinevere was old enough to understand how to do her own, she’d asked her father how her mother wore it.

Every morning from then on, she’d tied it into a bun, securing a braid over the crown of her head, and smiled at her reflection.

But there was no place at the Round Table for braids and star stories.

Besides, she had a place to sit already. She’d gained it upon her wedding day, achieved it when she married Arthur.

At the ceremony, she’d worn her hair that same way, deft fingers flying through the steps, as gracefully as when she carefully selected each arrow in her quiver when she was home.

But she was not running her thumb over fletches that day. Instead, she was brushing her hair, length by length, treating it with gentle oils, until it shone as brilliantly as Caliburn itself. She’d strung flowers throughout it all, and had nestled a pretty gold crown behind the braid.

In the mirror, she’d squared her shoulders, and had not smiled.

Arthur looked beautiful, when she strode in to lay eyes on him, standing in the church beside Merlin, who wore his typical armor, though it was polished and cleaned. A blue and gold cape had been draped over his shoulders, and the wizard regarded the affair down his nose, as he seemed always to do, no matter what situation he was in.

Guinevere couldn’t say she blamed him this time, though.

There was gold and pearl and sapphire everywhere, and it was suffocatingly bright. Guinevere clutched the rope in her hands as if it would whisk her away from all of this.

How could she celebrate now? Her kingdom was being ransacked, surely, as she stood in a gown of opulence, to wrap a cord around her wrist and swear fealty to a different king.

The words of love were not heavy or bitter. She would not pretend they were.

She cared for Arthur, truly. As surely as she cared for him, she spoke the words, and they felt like cream on her tongue. Not sour or difficult to swallow, but they coated her mouth, made her throat feel dry.

She resisted clearing it, and instead, let Arthur kiss her lips gently. It was not the first time they’d kissed, nor would ever be their last, but as he swept her into it in front of the enormous crowd, she wondered if he felt as dispassionate about it as she did.

Kissing him like this was a show, a signal that their marriage would be consummated, a signal that they’d be bound together forever, even after the rope fell to the plush, velvet carpet of the church’s altar, having served its purpose.

Guinevere was now, and forever more, Queen, not of Cameliard, but of Camelot, somewhere which she did not despise, but equally, somewhere that was not her home.

Perhaps having no place at the Table was the better fate, after all.

The closest thing to home that she felt anymore was when she was with Morgana. A knight who felt so dispassionately about her kingdom would do no good.

Still… she relearned her bow skills anyway, when Arthur was off on quests, or when he didn’t ask where she was going when she left the castle, too wrapped up in duty to even notice her absence.

Morgana didn’t mind when she brought her bow, though, when the two of them left together, every so often.

In fact, Morgana would try to hit her arrows, arced high into the air, with bursts of magic and sparks, which lit Guinevere’s eyes up, as she watched. Yellow as the pretty flowers in the meadows of the Wild Wood, Morgana’s magic was adept, powerful, stunning. It stole Guinevere’s breath almost as often as seeing Morgana’s hair on fire when sunlight hit it did.

Guinevere wanted to touch it.

She wasn’t sure if anyone else had ever dared touch a candle flame, but sometimes when she was alone, she stared at the black, chalky wicks, as they curled beneath the orange fire which perched so carefully upon them, and thought of reaching over, quick and sly, to see if the flames really were soft as they looked, as soft as Morgana’s hair looked.

Sometimes, she’d get close. She’d reach one finger near enough for it to sting in the heat that surrounded the candle at her bedside; she’d flex her fingers and almost reach out a hand to brush stray hairs back into place, when they fell across Morgana’s eyes or nose. But she’d always hiss and pull her finger away before she could burn it; she’d always clasp her hands in front of herself demurely, if only to keep from extending her wanton hand.

She was married. She’d sworn loyalty to Arthur.

She could not jeopardize that for wanting something she had no place wanting, to begin with.

Despite her best efforts, though, it burned all the same, entirely unresponsive to even her strongest resistances, her tensest moments of please no’s. It burned deep in the pit of her stomach, unshakeable, unyielding, at its worst during nights when she couldn’t fall asleep. When she stirred through fitful dozing, in and out, under the grey light of the moon.

Those were the nights when her nightgown tangled with the bedsheets because she’d rolled one way and back again so much that she couldn’t remember which way she favored for sleep, and when her restlessness would wake even her heavy sleeper of a husband, whose blue eyes were bright in the dark, when he slipped them open with worry. Try as he might to insist that his sister got all of the magic in the family, Guinevere had never once believed him, seeing the way he practically glowed in the pitch of their room, even when their curtains were drawn.

“Guinevere, why are you still awake?” He would ask.

She’d never know what to say. He would ask her something to that effect every time, and she would never know what to say, no matter how often it happened.

“Oh… merely thinking, Arthur. It’s nothing.” She’d reassure him, brushing her fingers over his brow, in an attempt to placate him, silence his questions.

It never worked. Instead, his eyes would pierce her through, and he’d level her with a look, disbelieving and evermore concerned. “If it were nothing,” he’d say quietly, “You wouldn’t be in fits over it.”

And she’d huff a soft laugh, murmur, “guilty,” and pretend to smile back as he’d break into a tiny chuckle, before pulling her into his arms, holding her close to his chest, thinking this a merciful comfort.

He’d go on to kiss her cheek and tell her that whatever it was, he would keep it from harming her for now and forever, and she would come up just shy of believing him.

Then, he’d slip back into sleep, and she’d lie awake, feigning it, resisting movement, even if she had an itch on her nose, so as not to awaken him again, and Guinevere would close her eyes and pretend that someone else was holding her, instead.

And sometimes, if she was lucky, then maybe she would eventually drift into a nap of sorts, only minutes long, and dream pleasantly of touching candles, and a long, red braid.

#// so #// guinevere had a lot to say about this one lol #// uh #// sorry it's also her backstory: abridged sljfdkslfjkdsl #ask #flamekeeperbellroc #out on business #by decree of the queen

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

Text

The Devil Wears Denim

Part of @emceesynonymroll ‘s Wacky Drabble’s #35/36???

Part 2 of 3 from the Little Sh!t series

Summary: Drake and Alyssa are stuck with Nikolas for the night.

Wacky Drabble Prompt: Aren’t you going to read the instructions

Using Friends Prompts from @loveellamae In fact, I’m undercover right now. I’m a whore and What’s the worst that could happen? I could die.

A/N: Thanks @burnsoslow for letting my little menace torture your couple and pre-reading. I’m fairly certain that one part was written more for your enjoyment (it wasn’t supposed to be that long Burns... lol).

Look Enna! I wrote two drabbles in less than a month :) And we have a worldwide pandemic to thank for that.

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“Hell no! That little shit is not staying in our house.” Drake spat at the small boy who had his father’s boyish looks and his mother’s witty charm.

“Drake. He’s just a little boy,” Alyssa defended. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could die.”

Alyssa chuckled and wrapped her thin arms around Drake’s waist. She was somewhat amused by what was perceived to be her boyfriend being overly dramatic. “You are not going to die. I’ve been with him most of the afternoon and he’s been a perfect, well-behaved child. And besides, it’s already getting late and Riley could really use a break to deal with her … post-mortem detention.”

“Baby, I love your kind heart. I really do,” he said while tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But, Liam and Riley have a nanny who can help out with the kids. He doesn’t need to stay here.”

Alyssa shook her head. “No. Nik said she got fired.”

Drake furrowed his brows at his young god-son. “Your parent’s fired, Hilda?” he interrogated.

“Nope. I had to let her go, Uncle Drake.” Nik replied while opening a can of soda he helped himself to from the Walker fridge. “She wasn’t following my rules.”

“What damn rules?” Drake scowled.

Nik took a sip of his soda and made a sour face before he dumped it whole into the trash can. “You know … don’t be a snitch. She ratted me out to my dad about running over the Countess of Genitalia. And you know what they say about snitches, Uncle Drake … they get stitches.”

Drake gave Alyssa a knowing look who doesn’t even seem to notice due to her own shock.

“Oh my god, Nikolas! What’d you do to her?”

The young boy flashed her a cocky wink and a smirk. “Nothing a long wig and pair of sunglasses can’t cover-up, my love.”

Alyssa snapped an astonished glance at her boyfriend who simply shrugged. “Told ya.”

She followed behind Nikolas who pulled out a chair at the table and started coloring.

She crouched down next to him and took a deep breath. “Okaaay. Look, Nik. I had a lotta fun hanging out with you today, I really did, but it’s probably best if you go back to your home for the night.”

Nikolas stopped coloring to look at her; his face crestfallen, and sighed. “I understand, Miss Alyssa. Just know that I will never forget you. Your smile … your laugh … your lovely lady lumps. That kick-ass grilled cheese you made me. And how you taught me to make useless shit with yarn and pipe cweaners … you make me want to be a better boy … a better prince for Condomonia.

Drake rolled his eyes and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. “Give me a fucking break. I’m calling Liam right now and having him send someone to pick up your ass.”

Alyssa stood and leaned into Drake. “You probably should watch your language around him.”

“Seriously, Alyssa? The boy just said shit and that’s one of his milder ones,” he scoffed while placing the phone to his ear. “He once made the entire Royal Guard cry after bitching them out.”

Alyssa winced and scratched her head as Drake walked away to make his call. She was somewhat confused, having met Nikolas’ parents during a few social gatherings. Liam was always very courteous and respectful; every bit the compassionate leader she had heard of him. Riley appeared to be a loving mother who doted on her children and husband.

As she watched this child, with his little tongue sticking out while he worked studiously on a drawing of an anaconda that appeared to be squeezing the life out of the man she loved, Alyssa pondered whether he was just misunderstood. She was pulled from her thoughts when Drake moved up beside her with a fake laugh.

“Well...Apparently the entire palace is on a damn lock-down after they found the German Prime Minister hogtied in a linen closet. The German security forces won’t allow anyone in, or out until they catch the supposed midget in tactical gear that apparently waterboarded her. So, of course, Liam is busy dealing with that shit and Riley’s phone went straight to voicemail. Got anything you wanna confess kid”

Nikolas continued to color, completely unfazed. “I told her she could come out when she agreed to my dad’s trade steal. She smelled like an old lady anyway .. she wouldn’t have been missed.”

Drake ran a hand down his face, trying to keep his cool.

Alyssa pulled him to the opposite end of the kitchen and lowered her voice.

“Look, baby. Listen .... we’re not going to panic, okay? I will keep him busy and out of your hair. He seems to respond well to me and we’ll just make the best of it, alright?

“Lyssa … we had plans for tonight, remember? I really wanted to spank that sexy ass in those new restraints.” He flashed a devilish grin with a pinch to her backside

She bit her lip, returning a sultry gaze. “Oh that shit’s still happening, Drake Walker.”

“Promise?”

She stood on her tiptoes to place a peck on his lips. “Promise. As soon as he falls asleep.”

Feeling a gnawing burn in the pit of his stomach, Drake ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at the little prince. “You really think you can handle him where we both don’t wind up in a shallow grave in the backyard?”

Alyssa stood up straighter with a confident smile. “I believe so, yes.”

Drake sulked as he sauntered back across the kitchen and Alyssa began pulling pots from the cabinet.

He towered over the boy. “Okay, kid. You can stay.”

“Really?” Nikolas beamed.

Drake gave him a stern look while he lightly gripped the back of Nik’s neck. “Yeah. But, you try any funny shit, Nikolas and I swear to god I’ll bust your ass.”

Nikolas tried to stifle a laugh that he hoped his uncle noticed … and Drake did. “God, you’re such a little asshole. I’m gonna go feed the horses,” he dismissed.

“Alright Nik, how about you help me with dinner … spaghetti and meatballs!” Alyssa called cheerfully for him as she filled a pot with water.

“Anything for you, my queen!”

Alyssa was right in her assumption that Nik would not cause any problems for her. She didn’t say anything to him as the meatballs he formed were in the shape of penises; it was obvious he was fishing for attention. Drake, on the other hand, was quick to refuse to eat the “little dicks staring at him” for dinner, especially ones that had Nikolas grubby paws on them.

And after playing an hour of Grand Theft Auto, in which he tried to teach her how to get the hooker to slash the throat of a pimp, he took a bath, brushed his teeth, and settled into the guest room.

“Good night, Miss Alyssa,” he croaked in his sleepy voice. He tucked the stuffed dragon his father gave him into his chest and closed his eyes.

She smiled as she flipped the light switch by the door. “Good night, Nikolas.”

Drake was still alive and in one piece, and Nikolas, surprisingly, hadn’t disturbed him the entire evening. Now it was time to retire the babysitter cap for the night and try out the new toy that she and Drake had been waiting for hours to use.

“He.Is.Out.” Alyssa proclaimed as she entered the master bedroom; her arms animating each word she spoke.

Drake, who was standing on the top rung of a ladder wearing nothing but denim boxershorts, clipped a chain through a metal hook in the ceiling. “It’s about damn time!”

Alyssa gawked curiously at the contraption as the rest of the chain fell. She tugged on the bottom where two leather wrist cuffs were attached an arm’s length above her short frame. The last thing she wanted was a heavy strand of steel crashing down while Drake made a bad girl out of her.

When she felt confident the chain was secure, she performed a sexy striptease while her lover’s hands roamed over each newly exposed section of skin. Drake unsnapped the metal buckles on the leather cuffs and fastened her wrist into each one.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to read the instructions?” Alyssa’s eyes flashed to Drake as if the idea suddenly popped into her head.

“Baby, I think I know what to do with these. Your hands go in here … and my hands …” He slid his fingers between her moistened folds. “go down there.” Alyssa shuddered at his husky voice and the feeling of anticipation that pooled inside of her.

Drake raised his brows. “You remember the safe word?”

“Hmm-mm. Bertrand,” she replied with a quick nod.

A smile dangled on the corner of his lips. “Very good.”

Drake slapped the leather flog across his hand and prowled like a wolf, ready to pounce its prey, around his girlfriend. Her arms outstretched tightly above her head.

“Somebody’s been a verrry bad, girl.” Alyssa teased. Her blue eyes shifting between the leather and his denim bulge.

“Oh yeah?” He licked his lips while continuing his sensual stroll.

“Yeah. In fact, I’m undercover right now. I’m a whore … a very naughty whore.”

Drake halted his movements and raised the flog. “I suppose I’ll have to punish you then … my very naughty undercover whore.”

“Ohh no, Officer Walker! Please don’t hurt me! Me so horny, me love you long time!”

Meanwhile…

One, beady blue eye popped open from a disturbance occurring on the floor directly above him. It was a sound he wasn’t that familiar with. For the last year, he had memorized the sound of pain, yet this particular scream was unlike anything he had heard before from any of his usual victims.

“Drake! Fuck that hurts!”

The second eye popped open. He heard her yell out again and again. The sound of torture and agony reverberated through the ceiling and fell upon his perked up ears.

Was his Uncle Drake murdering Alyssa?

“Oh my god, Drake! You’re killing me!”

It seemed so.

But, would he actually murder his own girlfriend?

“Devereaux, I’m gonna shove this thing in you so hard.”

Likely.

Nikolas tossed off the covers and crept out of his bed. He slithered across the room, flipped on the lights, and retrieved his backpack that lay on top an old dresser.

It was time to put a plan into action, save his woman and make sure Drake Walker regretted the day he’d ever been born.

#wacky drabbles

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sirbeaumains · 4 years

Text

Drabbles

Some drabbles I wrote a few months back set in my Colors series, featuring a variety of major and minor characters and also some technical spoilers. -shrug- These are true drabbles, aka 100 words exactly ignoring the prompt. And all the prompts were given by @stardustscribes who patiently came up with 15 words for me over the course of like two hours lol

///

Horse

As Bran trudged through the field, disgruntled, Gillian ambled slowly behind her. Whatever his opinion of living in the capital, seeing the mountain bloom in spring was a beautiful thing and he was glad to see it.

Bran had taken to mumbling under her breath.

“Are you complaining about walking again? How many times have we talked about this?” Gillian asked in amusement as Bran kicked a wildflower. She’d gotten better at travelling discretely and not acting like a duchess, but there were some things she’d never fail to complain about.

“Is it so much to ask for a horse?”

Dusk

It’s dusk as he slips out of the palace and into the city that sprawls before it. Yet another day of forced interaction with nobles who abhor his presence. Yet another day of people giving his father pitying looks, murmuring about how poor King Dov is left with his own future murderer as a child. How sad the other two were killed. They were good girls, unscarred, no miserable prophecy on their head. How sad.

Medrath pulls his cloak’s hood up as he enters a market square, merchants packing up for the day. How sad, he thinks bitterly. How sad.

Starlight

Dairna pulled at Medrath’s hand as she led him through her house. It was the home of the Baron of Hoaryrath, but it was small and barely a house in Medrath’s opinion. He was used to the large castle in the capital, and this tiny lodge high in the mountains was as different as you could get.

He let Dairna yank him around, unsure why the younger girl was so excited. He expected she didn’t meet many people.

A blast of frigid air hit him and he shivered, but his eyes went wide. The snow under the starlight looked incredible.

Reflection

Gillian can see himself reflected in Fay and Maylor de Catroph. He has Maylor’s height, and Gillian wonders if his beard will grow in that thick when it finally appears. His resemblance to Fay is more obvious—they both have fair hair, fair skin, and fair eyes. He finds himself glad that she has silver hair and blue-green eyes compared to his gold hair and blue eyes. If he had been a male copy of his—of Fay, he wouldn’t know what to do.

He laughs to himself. Even in his mind he can only call them by their names.

Dozen roses

Cassia spends the days mending clothing instead of making gowns with her sisters. Her mother is angry at her for staying out so late the night before, and darning socks is her punishment.

She knows she shouldn’t be upset—she broke the rules, so punishment is natural—but she can’t help but pout. Eir had snuck her into her castle and let her look through the medical books in its library. Cassia had never been happier. And then Eir had given her a bouquet of roses. Books, flowers, Eir—her favorite things. How could she have remembered to go home?

Protect

The maze is silent around them, and the silence is only magnified in Gillian’s mind each time they come across another corpse.

There’s chaos all around them as Gillian darts forward, but the king is already dead, dead at Diomedes’s hand and Bran’s sword.

There were riots throughout Perfysiko he was told, but he was forced to stay the night on the boat. They didn’t want any of the Stelemuntene delegation hurt. For their protection.

Protection, Gillian thinks, staring out the small porthole at the sea. Something I have failed to do this entire journey. What a healer I am.

Statue

Shasta stared at the lady statue unblinkingly. She wondered who it was. There was writing at the bottom, but she couldn’t read, and neither could any of the animals.

It was a good statue, she guessed. Even covered in moss it looked like a human. A very green human.

Shasta peered around it. The grove behind the statue was the greenest thing she’d ever seen. She looked over her shoulder at the brown and white of the mountain in winter. She looked back at the much-too-green grove.

The animals said it was weird, she mused. A god’s grove. Still odd.

Cook

“What is this supposed to be?” Gillian asked flatly, staring down at the bowl in front of him.

Bran scowled at him. “Haven’t you ever seen porridge before?” She held her head high and tossed her braid from one shoulder to the other in a show of pride, but the blush on her cheek betrayed her embarrassment.

Gillian raised an eyebrow and made a show of lifting the entire bowl up by the spoon.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything. But if I did, it would be that you should never, ever cook anything ever again.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Seaside

Chrysanthe loved the sea. It would be hard for her to hate it—she lived on an island—but she found it fascinating. It was a force of destruction—destroying ships with storms, flooding her village every spring, silently killing anyone who dared to think they could tame it.

And yet there were moments like this. She had convinced Diomedes and Tabitha to take a break from worrying about the future to go seashell collecting at the beach. The sea gently pooled around her ankle before retreating, a playful game of tag.

Chrysanthe could hear her siblings laughing. She smiled.

Seraphim

Gillian goes through the motions of gardening, instead focusing on his recent conversation with Fay. He didn’t enjoy initiating one-on-one conversations with her, but he needed a ten-year long mystery solved.

Unfortunately, she had no idea where he had received a brand of the sun goddess Orleana’s mark. He hadn’t had it as a child, and the Tesvik general that had kept them hostage hadn’t dared touched them—they were noble prisoners, deserving respect.

The mark brushed uncomfortably against fabric. He usually forgot about the raised skin, but he was intensely aware of it now.

How did it get there?

Woods

The woods grew deep on the mountain. The trees rose tall, tall enough to nearly blot out the midday sun. Gillian wanted to make a comment to tease Bran about how they could never maneuver a horse through this dense forest, but something stops him. He didn’t want to be the first to break the unsettling silence that surrounded them.

He knew it wasn’t truly silent—they had passed many animals already—but the woods had a strange way of muffling all noise. Gillian found himself uneasy, but Shasta and Dairna both considered it normal.

Even their footsteps were silent.

Companion

Medrath was talking but Gillian wasn’t listening. It was unusual for him to ignore the other man, but Gillian couldn’t stop looking at a moving lump on Medrath’s arm.

“—and, Gillian will you listen?”

Gillian started and looked up. Medrath was glaring and Bran was snickering. He smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, it’s just that you have a moving lump on your, well, shoulder now.”

Medrath paled slightly. “Ah, that’s—”

Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by Bran’s laughter. A small mouse peeked over Medrath’s collar, whiskers twitching adorably.

He was never going to live this down.

Soft

“Gillian,” Dairna says as she sits next to Gillian.

He smiles in greeting. “How did you get in here? I thought only students were allowed in the Academy’s library?”

Her smile turns playful. “How can they tell who is a student?”

Gillian laughs. “Fair enough. Why are you here then? I didn’t know you liked reading old tomes.”

“Not particularly,” Dairna admits. A hand plays with a heavy looking necklace, the softness of her hands contrasted to the angles of the metal. Gillian tears his eyes away to look her in the face. “I just knew you would be here.”

Breeze

A gust of wind signals Dimi’s arrival. The steward of the Royal Communications building gives him an exasperated look. “Dimi Knifesmith. I believe we’ve talked about your tardiness.”

Dimi gives his award-winning smile. “A charming habit, I believe you said.”

He sees the steward beat back a laugh. Dimi counts that as the win for the day—late to the job and made his superior laugh it off. “If you weren’t one of our fastest runners—and such a smooth talker—you would’ve lost this job months ago.”

“But I am, and I’m still here!” Dimi cheerfully waved himself in.

Storm

It’s said that the unpredictability of the ocean is caused by Safloes declaring war against the humans who dared think they could cross his sphere of influence unchallenged. The other gods of the elements were incensed at this and fought Safloes back with their own power, turning the world into their battleground and causing typhoons and volcanic eruptions in their wake.

As Gillian desperately hung onto a post fixed to the wall, he could see how an ocean storm was a battle between Safloes and Herion. He had never felt anything fiercer. He hoped their ship could weather the damage.

#writeblr #writing #amwriting #drabble #writers on tumblr #writing tag #sr: colors #ch: gillian #ch: bran #ch: medrath #ch: dairna #ch: shasta #ch: chrysanthe #ch: dimi #ch: cassia

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backtothestart02 · 5 years

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Mixed Drink - 4/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Back by popular demand - and a guess by one of my lovely readers correctly declaring Barry’s job title in this story - here is chapter 4. I hope you enjoy it, and please share your thoughts!! :D

Tagging @travelattwilight @mspurple23 @andromidagalaxie b/c I think these three ladies are dying for an update the most. lol.

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing. :)

...

Synopsis: AU - Two strangers meet in a bar. One spells danger, the other, desperation.

...

Chapter 4 -

Iris’ jaw nearly hit the floor when the room beyond the cold metal doors came into view.

“How did you-” She turned to look at Barry, mouth still hanging open, and then promptly shut it. “I thought you were new to the city.”

“I am.”

“Hardly anyone knows about this place. Most people order online and get it delivered to them by UPS. This is like…a warehouse.” She looked around the glittering room. “A very gorgeous, clean, modern warehouse.”

“I may have done some research.”

“When?” she demanded, eyes narrowed.

He held out his bent arm to her.

“Does it matter?”

She told herself that yes, it did matter, a lot. But he was acting so charming and gentlemanly – and hadn’t hinted at sex for the last ten minutes – that she found herself dismissing it for the time being. Especially in a store as dazzling as this one.

Barry smiled smugly, which made her roll her eyes, but still she allowed him to guide her to the formal dress section. She stopped immediately when she got there, and her mouth fell open again. Everything she could see was stunning – absolutely stunning.

“You sure you want to pay for something here?” she blurted out. Because these clothes had to be more expensive than anything she’d ever owned in her life.

This time his smile was tender as he looked at her.

“Absolutely.”

Hesitant to take another step forward, Barry nudged her gently to loosen her up before tugging her in the direction of the most expensive dresses.

“Come on, Iris. It’s on my dime, and I can afford it. Live a little.”

She blew some locks out of her face.

What in the world does this guy do for a living?

A woman stepped forward out of the dressing room along the far wall.

“Mr. Allen,” she greeted warmly, and Iris immediately bristled. She couldn’t figure out why until it hit her moments later that the woman was swaying her hips more than was necessary as she led them to the dresses Barry had apparently picked out ahead of time.

Oh, God. Am I possessive of him already? Jealous, already?

“Here, try this one on,” Barry suggested after the woman had left.

It was a long, form-hugging silk one in a pretty silver color, with straps hanging lightly off the shoulders and a diamond clasp in the center of the top hem of the dress.

“I’ve got a few more when you’re done. We can always look for more if you’re not sure of any of them. Once you’ve gotten a dress you love, we’ll move on to the shoes and shawls. It’ll be a little chilly at the gala tonight with the air conditioning on.”

Shaking her head, she took the dress and headed for the dressing room. She stopped suddenly when a thought occurred to her. She spun halfway around and opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to the punch.

“And jewelry and make-up, and an updo that will make every woman there envious of the goddess on my arm.”

Heat flooded her face, so she turned around and began walking towards the dressing room again to avoid him seeing just how flustered she was by his comments.

Compliments, rather.

“He sure knows how to make a girl blush,” she muttered to herself once behind closed doors.

She took a couple deep breaths and waited till her racing heartbeat slowed back to a normal pace. Then she looked at herself in the center mirror and pressed the dress lightly against her front to see how it might look.

It is pretty, she thought to herself.

She thought too of the look in Barry’s eyes once he saw her in this dress. Lustful, no doubt, but honestly, she was starting to miss that. No man had ever looked at her quite like he had. And he hadn’t even been the one doing the seducing. Nope, that had been all her.

How desperate she must’ve looked, jumping on him like that, caving to her desire so quickly. Her circumstances were pretty dire at the moment. What must he think of her?

The possibilities gnawed at her, making her feel small and insecure, until a knock sounded at the door.

“Yes?” she asked, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“You need any help in there?” his sexy voice answered, and she melted on the spot.

“No, I, uh, think I can handle it on my own.”

“You sure?” he teased, drawing the word out. “I’m pretty good with my hands.”

She laughed. “No arguing that.”

The knob started to turn on the door, and she promptly stopped it.

“I said I can handle it.”

He sighed loudly.

“Now go sit down. I’ll let you know if I need any ‘help’.”

“Fine,” he said on another sigh and walked over to the chairs by the doorway.

After a couple minutes of struggling to get the dress zipped up, and absolutely refusing to ask Barry for help – because then she’d never get past the first dress – she turned the knob herself and came into view, smirking the second Barry caught sight of her.

He got to his feet, shutting his mouth the second he caught her staring at him in amusement. But damn if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Is this the one?” she asked, turning around to reveal the low cut with the short zipper.

So easy to unzip. She smiled to herself when she faced away.

“It damn well could be,” he admitted, unable to take his eyes off her. Then, somehow, he shook himself out of it. “But you should try on all the dresses,” he said, determined to get a hold of himself. “Before I rip this one off of you,” he said quietly, huskily, hungrily.

Iris could only nod in response. “O-Okay.”

She walked passed him to try on the other dresses, but in the end it was a sparkling bronze number that tied around the back of her neck, enhancing her cleavage and sporting a slit up to the middle of her thigh, that he inwardly begged for her to like best.

She sighed, faking uncertainty as she looked at herself in the mirror and caught his drooling expression behind her.

“I just…I don’t know…”

“Iris,” he rasped, and she turned around and burst into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, her eyes darkening. “It’s the one.”

…

No sooner had the door opened than Iris found herself drawn to the far side of the room with her hands pressed against the glass.

“I told you it was a good view,” he said, smirking as he shut the door behind them.

He walked over to the closet to hang Iris’ dress beside his tux and placed her other items of choice around them accordingly. Then he joined Iris at the window.

“I’ve never been up here.”

“Really?” he asked, apparently surprised. “Not even for one of your stories?”

She looked over at him, stunned. Though in hindsight she knew she shouldn’t have been. After a moment, she relaxed and raised one eyebrow.

“You did do your homework.”

He shrugged, then his own shoulders relaxed.

Why, she wondered, was he suddenly nervous that he might scare her off?

“Part of the job description,” he said.

Her eyebrows narrowed.

“A job you won’t tell me anything about,” she reminded him.

He tsk’d at her, then let a gentle smile spread across his face.

“A man is more than his job, Iris. Just like you’re more than yours.”

“Is that your way of saying this isn’t a pity date?”

“Who said this was a date?” he teased, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in close.

Her mouth went dry.

He lowered his face, so his nose brushed against hers, and whispered, “Yes,” against her skin.

Iris’ arms snaked up around his neck as she murmured something unintelligible. Then, arching up onto her tiptoes, she kissed him.

It was just three Barry-sized steps to the bed.

…

When they walked into the ballroom at 7 o’clock that night – after an afternoon of room service, massages, and love-making - Barry and Iris were not only dazzled with the room before them, but also with each other.

It was hard for Iris to remember how opposed she’d been to this man only that morning. He was probably fooling her, being the player he’d likely been his whole life, and here she was telling herself that there could be no other girls if she saw none. She’d even deliberately not watched to see if he’d been checking out the retail employee earlier that day. She didn’t want to ask questions she might not like the answers to.

It was a little unbelievable that some free clothes and light wooing on a rooftop had turned sexual attraction into something deeper for her. Then again maybe it was just lust. Or maybe it was curiosity. His ability to keep anything regarding his job a secret for her was gnawing at her investigative journalist tendencies.

How she longed to report something of quality. Unfortunately, her attempt to do so after the third warning not to choose her own assignments had ended up in a suspension and then termination.

She supposed it was foolish and irrational, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to write about something that mattered.

And Patty, sweetheart that she was who would never hurt a fly, finally lost all her patience when she heard of Iris’ newly established unemployment. She sympathized, of course, but when Iris tried to explain the situation and Patty heard nothing but the same-old, same-old, she ordered her to leave. And Iris, shocked to the core that this angel of a human being would do such a thing, went without question. The door slamming behind her as she left nearly scared her to death.

She knew Patty just needed time, and that she would regret her actions. The two women didn’t have much in common, but they were both good, decent people trying to survive the wild world of law enforcement and the search for the truth. Patty’s field just happened to be keener on the serious issues than Iris’ was. Most of the time.

And Iris did feel bad. Patty would soon have to go apartment-hunting too if she couldn’t find another roommate to cover the costs of rent and utilities.

It was just a mess that Iris didn’t want to think about. Which was precisely what she’d gone and done every second since she’d been kicked out. Until Barry walked into her life. With the exception of the morning after hangover she’d endured above the bar at Teddy’s, she’d done little but think of Barry. Whether it was in a negative or positive light, she was still thinking of him. And she was going to continue to do so until at least the next morning when reality sank in again.

It was only Tuesday, though, and Barry had said he was staying in town until the end of the week.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind sharing his hotel room with her during that time?

What? Are you going steady with him now, Iris?

She rolled her eyes, punishing her inner self for her dreams, when Barry interrupted her by whispering the sweetest words into her ears.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the room tonight, Iris.”

Heat spread into her cheeks, but she wasn’t embarrassed. She was happy. She turned to look into his eyes and saw such adoration there she had to blink to make sure it was real. It didn’t go away. His fingers intertwined with hers, and for all intents and purposes, Iris truly felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“Thank you,” she finally whispered in response, and he smiled, lifting her hand to his lips for him to kiss.

She was thinking of other places he’d kissed earlier in the day and the night before, but she put a stop to it quickly. She’d never be able to focus on the task at hand, which was being a professional plus one at his work-related gala. She couldn’t be pulling him away to make out with him in a quiet, abandoned, far away hall. If they got caught, he would be in trouble – It might even end his career.

“Allen!”

They both turned at the sound of Barry’s last name, and Barry’s demeanor immediately changed.

“It’s my boss. Come on.”

His boss?

But she went along anyway, forcing herself to keep up with him in her high, high heels.

“Sir,” Barry greeted, then turned to Iris. “Iris, this is my supervisor, Mr. Draeger.”

“Kevin,” the man corrected, then warmly and firmly shook Iris’ hand. After their hands dropped, he sent a suspicious look Barry’s way. “Where on earth did you find her?” he asked, skeptical.

Barry shrugged, unworried in the slightest. “Where do all men find the women of their dreams?”

She gasped, not registering that they’d met in a dingey bar.

“A little forward for a first date, isn’t it, Bartholomew?” Kevin asked, his voice going low.

Iris felt the tension building and cut in.

“Who says it’s a first date?” she asked.

Kevin glanced at her. “I think I know my employees well enough to-”

“Know who they’re seeing romantically?” she pushed. “Or sexually.”

His eyes widened. “Gutsy girl you’ve got there, Allen.”

“That girl is standing right here,” she interrupted. “And she wants to dance with her man.”

Both men’s jaws were hanging open by this point, but Iris only addressed Barry.

“Shall we?” she asked, and he nodded subtly, not looking back at his boss for a moment as Iris led him onto the dance floor.

“You’re incredible,” he said, pulling her close as they started the waltz.

“I couldn’t let him talk to you like that.”

“He’s my boss.”

“And I’m your date. Remember?”

He smirked, then slowly allowed his hand to lower a few inches down her back. Iris put on a good show, but he’d felt her delicious shivers.

“How could I forget?”

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

#westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #mixed drink #chapter 4

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speckledbears · 4 years

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Thoughts on “Far From Home”

SPOILERS FOR “Spider-Man: Far From Home”!!!!

this is for you anon

ok so basically i thought that it would have been good if it wasn’t a Spider-Man (“children’s”) movie.

Like, I think Quentin (Jake G) was such an interesting character, and an amazing villain but, I hated that his entire reason was because he wanted to be the New Iron Man. It bugs me to NO END that THATS the reason. Tony stole the projector tech he made, made fun of him (even if the audience didn’t know), and fired him. I think that’s a much better reason than wanting to be the next Annoying, Mean, Rich Rich Rich So Fucking Rich Metal Guy. The tech was so fucking cool? Like, projectors that seemed so lifelike,,, that’s so cool (also i kinda feel like you could relate it to how disney is only using GCI now but the russos are dumbasses). And like, the story Quentin and his team put together for Mysterio, and all the planning and the production value (if you can call it that lol) was so interesting and I was so intrigued. If there was a movie for him, and he didn’t fucking suck, I would pay to see it. His issue is that he’s so hellbent on killing Peter, MJ and Ned that I was put-off from like, half the movie. It’s kinda terrifying that someone can say, “I’ll just have to kill the kids myself,” and NO ONE IS CONCERNED??? And the fact that he was willing to kill innocent civilians just to make headlines, that’s fucked (and modern). Also, I think the directors missed out on a big opportunity for Peter to have a new father figure. Peter looked up to Quentin, trusted him, seeked him out for advice, like he would a father. I don’t remember him ever doing that with Tony. Peter was always too worried he was bothering him, and Tony seemed to brush him off a lot. Sure, Tony picked him and placed so much faith in him but, in the end? I feel Peter became more of a toy for the Avengers than an actual team member. If Quentin had been a good guy, doing this shit for the “right reasons” (idk like, taking the burden of becoming Iron Man off Peter, and maybe mentoring him) he could’ve been AMAZING. I still love him (except his dumb reasons) but, y’all missed out!!!!

Next: The whole deal with Peter being chosen by Tony to be the next Iron Man. Fucking hate that shit!!!!! Peter is a CHILD, he’s 16, and obviously he’s not ready for that responsibility!!!! In the movie, he’s manipulated by Quentin (which i lowkey also hate and explained above) and he just!!! gave EDITH to him!!!!! He’s a good kid, but not mature or responsible enough to handle having access to that kind of tech. I mean, dude almost killed a classmate?? Literally called a drone strike on the kid, couldn’t figure out how to cancel it, and destroyed the drone himself. Let’s not forget that this responsibility was FORCED ON HIM BY TONY???? Like, there was this scene where Peter literally told Quentin that he didn’t want EDITH!!! He didn’t want that kind of responsibility that came with being Iron Man!!! All he wanted for the summer was to hang out with his friends and kiss the girl he likes!!! Peter just wanted to be a normal child for one summer and, apparently, that was too much to ask for. Also, in the scene where Happy and Peter are in the jet talking about Tony, Peter says that he doesn’t know if he can be the new Iron Man. Happy doesn’t even hesitate when he says, “No, you can’t. No one can replace him.” Like hello!!!! And then they immediately forget that little nugget of wisdom, and Peter starts playing with Tony’s tech and literally everyone with eyes can draw the parallels between Peter and Tony. It’s frustrating. I hated how Tony was treated after his death. I completely understand mourning a character, especially one as important as Tony Stark, but it didn’t feel like mourning. It felt like worshipping. Tony had become a martyr, and he fucking knew it (EDITH = Even Dead, I’m The Hero 🙄) and people are still licking his boots. It’s just so weird that, even though he’s supposed to be dead, he’s still a main character and RDJ isn’t even in the movie!!!!!!!! When a character dies, that’s it, they can’t directly influence the story anymore, and yet Tony is still the reason for everything Peter does? He doesn’t have his own initiative. He lived and breathed in Tony’s shadow, and he’ll live in it forever. He’s being forced to become the next Iron Man. And believe me, I love Tony. I grew up watching the “Iron Man” movies with my parents and brother, and I remember watching one in the theatre and laughing till I cried. Guys! He’s dead! He’s done more than enough! It’s Spider-Man’s turn now.

I really hated Nick Fury in this movie. I grew up watching the OG Marvel movies and I loved Nick, but holy fuck. This dude hounded Peter, a CHILD, for help against those Elementals when he could’ve literally asked anyone else (side note: he shot Ned with a tranquilizer dart like? dude he’s a child calm down-). He gave a shit ton of excuses for why he couldn’t get in contact with the other Avengers but, I call bullshit. This dude is like, one of the most powerful men in the world (Quentin’s words, but it’s also been proven in other movies). He managed to track down Peter, how is it THAT HARD for him to find an adult??? Then he hijacked the school trip so that Peter would be in Prague, and he KNEW that once Peter was there he would help. It’s manipulation. Never mind the scene like, 5 mins later where Peter says he’s worried about his friends getting hurt (and having EDITH but not really understanding her), and Nick exploded on him. LIKE DUDE??? he’s a child. I’m also super pissed off at the fact that Nick manipulated Peter using his Avenger status. OOOOHHHH you whore!!! Literally everyone knows that Peter loved Tony (🙄🙄) and he used him against Peter! ASK AN ADULT FOR HELP YOU HAVE AN ENTIRE TEAM OF THEM????? Oh also, the bitch KNEW Quentin was evil. There’s a scene that proves it. It’s right after their first meeting where Peter says no, and leaves. Nick and Maria (the brunette lady hes always with, im surprised i remembered her name) share a knowing glance. They fucking KNOW. And yet?? They let Quentin do whatever the hell he wants?? He literally tried to kill 3 teenagers, and planned to kill hundreds of civilians in London (and i’m not sure if anyone did get hurt or died but, i wouldn’t be surprised). But the most powerful man in the world can’t stop him, apparently. He wants a 16-year-old CHILD to do it for him. It’s ridiculous!

The romance was also a bit hit-or-miss for me. Like, Ned and Betty?? It felt so forced and contrived? It literally only existed so that MJ could take Ned’s place. Y’all notice that Ned basically ditched his best friend for the entire movie for some girl he barely knows? Also, the fact that they “fell in love” on an eight hour flight. Hate that. It’s such a trope and it’s ugly. The romance with Happy and May was kinda weird, too? I mean, I don’t know their past together. I didn’t watch “Infinty War” or “Endgame” but, it also felt forced. Especially at the end, when Peter asked if they were dating!! May said no and Happy said yes!! I’m assuming that’s supposed to be comedy?? ig??? Anyway, I didn’t really like the romantic rivalry between Brad and Peter? (btw no shit i almost called peter “tony” i’m telling y’all they’re synonymous now). Like, Brad’s logic in using the photo of Peter stripping to “expose the truth” about Peter to MJ was so weird and awkward? The entire scene felt forced and I was so uncomfortable watching it. Also, MJ would’ve stuck up for Peter anyway, so it didn’t even matter, and the rivalry was dropped so easily after the opera in Prague. I did actually like the romance between Peter and MJ, even though I wasn’t expecting to. It’s a bit weird how quickly he got over Liz, but whatever; he’s a teenager. (I was going to comment on the necklace thing but, that’s actually kind of in character for him so, y’all get ONE (1) pass). I thought their hug and kiss at the end of the battle with Quentin was super fucking sweet and innocent, and it was refreshing compared to most teen romance movies where they act like adults instead. I was in LOVE with that scene, and it was one of the only scenes I honestly loved.

Ok, I wanna go back to Quentin for a bit. This dude absolutely destroyed the Peter Parker we were given in HOCO, and at the beginning of the movie. Yeah, Tony already had him as a puppet, but Quentin took his innocence. Y’all saw how easily Peter trusted people before him!! Like?? When he found out Quentin manipulated him, he lost almost all his faith in other people, except for MJ and Ned. For example, the scene where Peter calls Happy to pick him up because he’s in a holding cell in the Netherlands? Love that scene BUT! As he’s limping over to Happy, so obviously fucked up and hurting, he makes Happy prove it’s really him. THAT FUCKING HURT LMAO!!!!! I hated that. And that last battle with Quentin on the bridge? He maneuvered so easily through the drones, it was impressive, and he’d only fought against them once before (seems impossible but whatever). And watching the projections dissolve away into just pixels and a scared little bitch in a fish bowl helmet? Classic Theatre. But, he was traumatized by previous experiences fighting Quentin. Peter’s growth made the movie good but, his loss of innocence really made this movie kinda suck. Sure, his innocence still there—the scenes later with MJ prove that—but he’s still lost his easy trust in other people. It hurt to see. And, like, I’m not saying he can’t be more mature but, he didn’t even trust Happy!! He’s so paranoid that he’ll find his loved ones replaced by Quentin’s illusions!! It sucks!!!! Peter isn’t Peter without that sense of childlike wonder, curiosity, and helpless faith in others.

Anyway, I wanna talk about that Netherlands scene again because, holy shit, I loved it. After Peter was hit by that train (i actually screamed but the cinematography inside the train? *kiss*), he wakes up in some holding cell in the Netherlands with a band of friendly locals, and the guard, who’s talking on the phone with his pregnant wife. I don’t know why but, that scene was one of the first to make me smile? Like, it was so sweet how the other men were so happy for the guard and his wife, how they gave Peter a spare shirt because he looked cold, how Peter just broke the lock and left? How the guard was wearing Peter’s mask???? I’m in love. The next scene I liked was literally right after, of Peter limping through the tulip field, and Happy landing the jet nearby. Without dialogue, that scene is so pretty?? The petals stirring in the wave the jet left as it landed?? The HUG???? UGH! I fell in love. Another scene I loved was the scene when Peter went to Berlin to meet with Nick Fury and Quentin manipulated it with the projection technology. Even though I knew it was fake, I was worried about what was going on outside the projection (he got hit by a fucking train so,,,,,, iwas right to be worried-). Watching Peter so helpless and trying to stay vigilant was so heartbreaking, yet I was lowkey impressed. Like? How many other mean ass men could pull that off? None, next question. I can’t even think about how to explain it. I watched that scene at least 3 times, and was amazed every time, my only thoughts anxiety for Peter.

Okay, lastly, I wanna talk about the tech. I thought it was so interesting and unique. Like, I’ve played with the idea of projection in stories, or with characters as magic but, never considered applying it through technology, especially tech as capable as it is. And every scene where the projections were being used were amazing. I mean, obviously it’s CGI, but in the context of the MCU, it’s so interesting and cool to see tech like that used in a very public way. And no one knew!!! The whole system (along with Quentin and his team) was so good at camouflaging that I was fooled at the beginning of the movie. I seriously believed in the Elementals and Mysterio’s ruined Earth. It’s part of the reason I really enjoyed his character. And, like I said earlier, Peter was fooled by it too; everyone was. He learned it, eventually. But not before Quentin could manipulate the situation one last time and claim Peter called the drone attacks on London, and revealed his identity.

All in all, I didn’t have fun watching “Far From Home,” and it’s mainly because it didn’t feel like a Spider-Man movie. I enjoyed “Homecoming,” so much more. The villain was far more relatable (even though you could see it as demonizing the poor), Ned and Peter’s friendship was so wholesome and sweet, the entire cast was fun, and it was more enjoyable than watching some angry rich white man trying to kill children so he can get richer.

#long post #spiderman #spiderman: ffh #peter parker #mysterio #mj spiderman #ned spiderman #im angry haha

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h-o-l-l-i · 5 years

Text

Love Never Hurt So Bad

Dean Winchester X Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: language

Author’s Note: Requests are open again! This is going to be a new SERIES! Please give me some feedback so I can get better as a writer!

Requested by the amazing, brilliant, talented @coffee-obsessed-writer (Ooo I have a request! Its honestly been a really rough week (Chuck help me its only Wednesday) but I could use some fun, flirty, (smutty if you're up for it, no worries if you aren't), Dean Winchester maybe with the song "I Hate Myself for Loving You" by Joan Jett? Long, short, drabble, series lol, whatever you are feeling, darlin'! xoxo)

tag list: @coffee-obsessed-writer // @roonyxx // @mrsjaxtellerfan

want to be added to a tag list? Let me know!

Part 1

You slumped down in the ripped, red high barstool and placed your elbows down on the bar-top with a thud. The bartender placed a clean glass in front of you, “Long day?” He raised an eyebrow to you, tipping the bottle of Jack Daniels. You gazed up to him through your long, thick eyelashes and let out a half chuckle in response. “So, what’s a beautiful lady like you doin’ in my bar, in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere at,” his deep brown eyes darted over to the clock that hung crookedly on the wooden wall above the entrance of the bar, “going on 4 am?” His attention turned back to you as he leaned his body casually on the bar near you.

“Work.” You stated simply, setting the small glass back down.

“You a cop or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” He opened his mouth again to speak again but you interrupted him sharply, “I appreciate your interest chief but—” The jingle sounded to alert someone else had entered the empty bar. Your heart fluttered with happiness that you would be going home with Dean Winchester instead of this wart of a man, bartender.

“Two beers.” He held out his bruised fingers and then ran his hand through his growing hair, ruffing it around some. Your heart skipped a beat with the look he gave you, his hair slightly messy; making you melt deeper into the old chair you sat in.

“You got it.” The bartender smirked then looked into your blue eyes before nodding in realization before fetching your drinks.

***

“You okay?” Dean sipped from the bottle, staring straight ahead.

You took a moment, gathering your thoughts, nodding, your voice soft and subtle, “Yeah. What about you?”

His head gently swung to your direction, his eyes full of pain and hurt, tears beginning to burn at the corner of his eyes, “Yeah.” His lips pursed together, his dimples gracing his perfect face. He cleared his throat and slid from the chair, reaching into his wallet and laying a couple bills down, “You ready, Y/N?”

You twisted your body to your left and your feet met the ground, bits of dried mud releasing itself onto the sticky floor, marking your territory. You grabbed Dean’s hand in your, squeezing it gently.

***

“You should sleep, Y/N. It’s been three days since—” Dean started.

“You haven’t slept either so don’t even try any of that, Winchester!” You snarled, punching his shoulder playfully, his teeth glistening in the passing street lights.

“All right, we can find someplace and get a couple rooms for the night.”

“A couple rooms?” You raised your eyebrows, “Dean, we barely had money to cover those two beers.” You scoffed, “Get out of here with ‘two rooms’” you mocked, making him laugh silently.

“You want to share a room with me?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” You winked at him.

***

The impala rolled to a stop, the neon light flickering, casting a red hue through the windshield. “I’ll get the room, you can grab what you need from the trunk.” Dean’s exhausted voice commanded. You nodded in response, yawning.

***

“Room for two.” Dean raised his eyebrows and closing his eyes, wiggling his head hoping to shake his sleepiness.

The manager turned at the sound of Dean’s groggy, rough voice, “You’re in luck, friend. Got one room left.” He paused, handing Dean the key, his eye catching your figure leaning against baby, “You’re a lucky man.” He pointed to the window, Dean’s emerald eyes followed his finger.

He chucked, rubbing the back of his head with his rough hand, raising his eye brows, “Yeah, I am. She’s amazing and I don’t deserve her.” He sighed, “I just hope she doesn’t wise up and realize she’s too good for me.” He laughed awkwardly before nodding and bowing out of the small motel office.

***

He walked briskly over to you, dangling the keys from his finger, “Room 18.”

“Awesome!” You exclaimed with the small amount of energy that you still had. “I cannot wait to take a nice hot shower and go to bed!” you slumped your shoulders as you walked side by side with the older Winchester. “Oh!” You raised your voice causing him to go into save the world mode, “maybe I can get five hours sleep instead of the usual four!” You laughed, “What?” You smile faded seeing Dean’s guard fully raised.

“You scared me, Y/N.”

Your jaw dropped open slightly, “I. Y/F/N. Y/L/N. Scared Dean Winchester. The. Dean Winchester?”

“Shut up! I wasn’t even scared.” He scoffed, pursing his lips and shaking his head, you laughed back at him, “Whatever…” he finished.

“You and Sam always pranked me, consider it payback from all of the years on the road as kids.” Your hand accidentally brushed against his as you walked up the steel staircase. Your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat when his piercing eyes caught yours.

His lips curled up slightly, his cheeks blushing a little bit, his voice so softly said, “Sorry.”

For a moment, all time had stopped and it was only the two of you in the whole entire world; no monsters, no armageddon, nothing; just you and Dean.

You never thought that you would find love, not in your line of work anyway… You knew Dean since you were kids, your father hunted with John, so you were dumped at Bobby’s along with the Winchester brothers. As time rolled on, people died, your father never came home from a hunt one night, so you called John.

He came and picked you up, he had no idea what to do with you so he took you in; and everyday after that you fell more and more in love with Dean Winchester.

“You can take a shower, I’m going to go get some food, the usual?” He asked you.

“Sounds good Winchester.” You said closing the bathroom door.

Your guard went up instantly at the sound of a lamp crashing to the floor followed by shuffling, you kept the shower running but got out, wrapping the rough motel towel around your body. You leaned down the the heap of clothes that lay on the floor where you stripped, you found your knife that you always had on you, it was your father’s��

You readied yourself and slowly and very quietly cracked the door open, your heart thumping up into your throat, your eyes welled with tears and you closed the thin door again; sliding your back down until you were seated on the tile floor, tears running down your cheeks.

You sat there for almost thirty minutes before there was a knock at the door causing you to jump and wipe your eyes.

“You okay in there?” Dean’s voice boomed.

“Yeah. Um.” You stood up, furrowing your eyebrows and reached a shaky hand to turn off the shower, “I’ll be out in a second.”

A minute later you opened the door, your wet hair making small rivers running down your shoulders. Dean’s attention went from his greasy burger to the woman who stood half naked in front of him. “I forgot to bring my bag in there with me…” you muttered, your voice shaking from anger and pain in your chest.

He nodded and tried his hardest not to give in and let his eyes wander your body. “Your, uh, food is over there.” He pointed from the bed, his words almost inaudible from the amount of food that was shoved in his mouth.

“I’m actually not that hungry. It cool if I take the Impala?” You asked digging though your bag, gathering your clothes instead of your nightwear.

“Where are you going?” He asked you, his voice thick with concern, “You okay, Y/N?” He inquired, swinging his legs around, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied. He took notice but he knew better than to pry, he knew you so well in some respects but in others he was a complete stranger to you.

He nodded, wiping his hands on a napkin then bringing it to his lips, “Okay. Just, call me if you need anything. Okay, Y/N.” He came over to give you his keys, his hand lingered on yours for an extra moment, “Be safe.”

You remained silent but nodded your head once, tightening your jaw, your hand squeezing the cold metal keys. You were startled by the manager who was getting ready to knock on your door, you stopped your fist seeing the fresh towels he was clutching, realizing he wasn’t a threat you slid out around him and briskly descended the staircase, jogging over to he impala.

“Oh, boy. Maybe she did wise up…” the motel manager stated, his bushy eyebrows raised, his eyes following the sound of the impala leaving the lot.

“What?” Dean asked him curiously.

“Whatever you did, you’re in the dog house with that one.” He warned, pushing the towels into Dean’s strong arms and turning on his heel. Leaving Dean there alone in the empty room, without you.

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blackevermore · 4 years

Text

Keeping Count

[ Wonka x Taylor]

Summary: She says she’s not into it but secretly she doesn’t mind it. However, that doesn’t stop her from being upset with him none the less.

Genre: lol this was slight ns//fw then I slipped up

Warning(s): Spanking, Grinding, Half undressed, Language

Word count: almost 4K

A/N: I was thinking about Wonka bending me over his leg. Whoopsy doo honestly. Also sorry for the mistakes and blah I just kept writing and didn’t reread any of it I’ll do it later

Taylor and Wonka were not the types of people that could easily be told what to do. Your criticism was beath them, and your advice was nothing more than a pinch of salt on a dining table. If you had a problem with either of them, it was best to keep it to yourself, never allowing either of them to hear what you had to say. The last thing you needed was the uneasy wrath of the duo as they stood above you counting down the seconds to your misery. Unfortunately, this mindset applied to one another between them, Taylor wasn't allowed to ask too many questions, and Wonka couldn't mock her for her curiosity.

But who were they to actually follow a simple agreement like that? Taylor purposefully nagged Wonka for things that didn't make sense. Why kill the man if you actually needed him alive to sign the document? Why did shipping have to go out a day pier if you were still going to reroute the deliveries? What was the point of the hookah bar if neither of them used it? Taylor could pull out her phone and rant off the list of things she donned as 'bullshit' that her boss did or orchestrated. Half the time, her questions were genuine, her boss was a very secretive man with high power to run a whole country if he wanted to. Thank god he didn't, if he did, she would be crawling up the corner of a wall in annoyance at all the work she had to do. Wonka, on the other hand, found her curiosity both exasperating and somewhat entertaining. Her lack of knowledge was his own ego stroke of how superior he was to her. At times he didn't mind her 'stupid' questions, and he would even answer them with 'stupid' answer. But when the day was taking its toll on his wild mind, he would prefer if she shut up for once and just did as she was told. Like she was supposed to.

"Sir!"

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'? You legit can't be that childish to not allow someone to use specific colours. You can't trademark colours!" Taylor huffed as she tried to keep up with her boss's massive strides. He was trying to get away from her, but it was clear she refused to drop the topic and go away.

"I can. I will. I did." He grumbled as he tucked his cane under his arm and fished for the keyring attached at his hip. If he could find his office key before he made it to the door he could get in quick and lock her out. Taylor notices how frantic he was with metal and her two off jogging to get in front of him. She stepped over into his path and caused him to stumble backwards.

"Sir. I get that you want to keep your marking image to yourself, but that is an old lady you're willing to shut down over the colouring of her packages."

"I as always do not care. Now move or be moved." Wonka narrowed his eyes at the girl as he finally found the office key and held it close to her chest. Taylor rolled her eyes as she stood her ground and refuse to move. They stood there for a moment as they tried to stare down each other. Clearly, Wonka was cracking faster than she, his eye started to twitch which was a clear indicator that he was getting fed up. Taylor knew that it would be best to get out of his way, she knew what came after a few eye twitches and a nasty look. So many bodies left in his wake was enough insurance to never get on his bad side. But she couldn't let him win so quickly, he was petty, and she knew that she had to shut him down before he wrapped his hands around an old ladies throat and wrung her silly. Taylor tried to her eyes on his. When she noticed he grabbed the knot of his cane and pulled the cane from under his arm, her heart stopped. It became harder to lock eyes when she saw him raise it off the ground a few inches then brought it down in a vicious tap.

Warning one

Taylor automatically moved out of his way as fear crept up her back. She cursed at herself out loud for cracking but promised herself she wasn't done yet. She had a whole full of things she had to say before she reached her next limit with another tap. Wonka brushed past her quickly and down the hallway. He finally made it to his office and slid the key in to unlock the doors. When the sound of the heavy lock undoing itself met his ears, he sighed in relief of finally getting away from her. Taylor didn't understand the importance of saving face in the work world. If that old woman started using his colours to wrap her sweets than the marking pool would be slipt in two due to confusion. The world was a bunch of idiots buying things they could only associate with one person. He had already had that happen once, the reasons he closed down the factory in the first place, he didn't want a repeat of before. No matter how old his competition was, he was willing to destroy them at all coast. He was well aware that he was ruthless, a highly unfair player, and a very sore loser in a game he dominated anyway.

He took his hat off along with his long trench coat and placed them on the coat rack near the door before walking over to his desk and sitting down in his chair. He put his cane against the railing beside him and propped his elbows up in front of him with his fingers intertwined. Something told him that was the end of their disagreement. He watched the door waiting for her to bust through hot on her heels and yelling. He waited for three minutes before finally leaning back in his plush chair. He thanked whoever above for the needed silence, he needed to calm down before he did something treacherous.

The door clicked and flew open with Taylor walking over with her hands on her hips. She stood in front of his desk, tapping her foot, waiting for him to acknowledge her. Wonka told himself that if he kept his eyes close, she would go away. When he peeked from under his lashes, he cursed as she was still standing there.

"I'm not a bear, staying still won't make me lose interest. I'm upset and I'm locked in on you." Taylor hissed.

"Your interest really needs to check, you're more invested in nothing rather than something. I'm not changing my mind, and there is nothing you can do about it, little girl." Wonka's eyes shot up, full and burning holes into her face. Chills ran down her back at how creepy he could get, but that still didn't take away he was a man-child living a fantasy only a 5-year-old would want.

"Oh, now I'm a little girl?"

"You're younger than I."

"I wasn't little two days ago when I was between your legs blowing-"

"Don't finish that!" Wonka shot forward in his chair. Taylor smirked from his sudden rise and stuck out her tongue. The blush on his face gave away his embarrassment. Checkmate. Taylor always enjoyed how sheepish and bashful he got when she brought up anything sexual between them to him. He was still wrapping his head around the fact they were more than a business partner.

"Sir, you can not copyright colours." Taylor brought the conversation back around to the initial problem at hand."That old woman is going to die someday, and you are just making her life shitty by being a brat."

"You should know the definition of a brat since you are one. In hindsight Miss Snuggleknot knows better than to do anything remotely associated with me, her husband was once a great rival after all." Wonka lowered his voice when he spoke of the woman's husband. Taylor knew he killed the man long ago when word got out that there were spies in the factory. Mr Snuggleknot was one of the poor unfortunate souls that threw their hat in to get top-secrets. Wonka hunted down every last greedy handed person one by one. When he got to the old man, he took his sweet time in arranging the perfect accidental death.

"That woman still believes her husband had a heart attack while unloading his car at two in the morning. Look. She coloured her packaging like yours, but she isn't using your font which you already trademarked. Everyone knows your product from a knock off which shouldn't hold much salt over your head. You have the upper hand, and now you're trying to destroy a lady that already dealt the worse of cards from your stack. Leave her alone." Taylor slammed her hands down on his desk to emphasize her point. Wonka didn't flinch, unphased by loud bangs and aggressive actions. If he wanted to be scared or intimated, he would just go back to being a child and living with his father. His top lip scrunched up as he looked down at her hands and slowly up to her face.

"I refuse to listen to a mindless uneducated, ignorant person that knows nothing about the marketing place let alone her lefts and her rights." Wonka shot the words through his teeth like venom and Taylor gasped before knotting her brow in anger.

"And I refuse to be talked down by a man who is clouded by past trauma that he never got the chance to move on from because he refuses to let go. The world is not always out to get you, the world is not always your enemy. Stop thinking you need to kill to not be killed when it isn't necessary. Sir, I try my damnest not to make comments on your character, but you are the toxic individual that only hurts yourself. Your level of pain is the only thing you can control at this point because the child in you only allows pettiness and anger."

Wonka reached to his side quickly and gave two taps of his cane and Taylor knew she was in deep trouble. She turns around trying to take off but the hand the reached out and grabbed her wrist was already pulling her from around the desk. Taylor tried to dig her heels down into the carpet, but all that did was make her trip over her feet. Wonka pulled her to stand in front of him, his grip on her wrist was still tight, and the look on his face wasn't changing. Before Taylor could protest, saying how sorry she was, he had already being bent her over his lap. He then spun the chair around to face towards the giant window so his legs could spread out. She kicked her legs a few times trying to get him to lighten up but the more she struggled the more he pressure he applied to keep her down.

"Oh, come on! Sir, I didn't mean it!" Taylor's face started to heat up from the position she was in. This wasn't the first time he got fed up with her and bent her over. It had been a very long time since then and whenever the thought of him getting her like this pop into her head. Taylor knew that the situation could go one of two ways. Either she was going to be pissy for the rest of the day, and he was going to feel better. Or they both were going to be half-naked taken their frustrations out. From the way he had her pinned on his lap it was looking like the former was going to be victorious.

Wonka repositioned himself again to level out her body weight on his knees and lowered the hand on her back to hick up her uniform dress.

"Wonka!"

"Silence." His command was low, no room for any mercy. The girl's heart skips a beat, and she fell silence rather quickly. She would just take her punishment and hope that she could sit later without wincing. Of course, even with the delivery of this punishment. Taylor was already thinking up her revenge, whatever he does onto her she would return ten times worse. Taylor shut her eyes tightly, trying to prepare herself as best she could for his incoming hand. Wonka was heavy-handed when he was angry, he usually was the embodiment of grace and beauty, but when he had fire running in his blood, his touches felt like hell. Taylor started to flinch at the slightest touches, half them were from her hair brushing against her skin. With each flinch, Wonka tried not to break out in a smile. It was very entertaining to see her mentally preparing herself for the worse when it was yet to come. 'That is how it should be' he told himself in glee, Taylor was nuisance one moment then a cry baby the next. How could she even stand herself when she was very flippy floppy. Wonka closed his eyes and breathed for a moment before opening them and looking down at the girl. His anger was slowly slipping away, and his more logical standpoint was clearing the clouds of reasoning.

"You're pitiful, dear." He cooed mockingly.

"Says the guy who is pissy about colour packaging. Suck a dick and live."

Slap

"Fuck!" Taylor screamed out as Wonka brought his hand down in a clean sweep. The pain rocketed through her ass and down her legs. She wasn't sure what hurt more the impact or the way her skin heated up from the aftermath.

"Keep count. Straight to ten or it never ends. Plus one more if I start to bore." Wonka twisted tongue rattled off his rhyme and Taylor let out a sigh of defeat. She nodded, and Wonka smiled as she gave in to what was coming. The next slap came, and Taylor called out a broken 'two' as quickly as she could. Soon three and four with five taking a bit of time when Wonka noticed Taylor stiffen and hesitated to relax. Wonka managed to get most of his anger out in the first five hits which left his remaining five with a lighter impact. Six was still hard but this time he rubbed the area to soothe the skin under her shorts faster. Taylor didn't call out the number as she was too distracted with his gentle touch. Wonka rose a brow and quickly rose his hand and brought it down to snap her out of it.

"You fucker!" She hissed and kicked her legs, trying to get out of his grip again. That one hurt more than the others before it; she was sure it was going to leave a bruise. Taylor felt her eyes starting to water in the corners as her pain tolerance lowered notch by notch. She didn't handle pain well as it is and whenever Wonka spanked her, she couldn't help but start crying. She sniffled a bit and tried to clean her eyes before the tears fell. However, that didn't help but instead made the tears fall quicker. Wonka sighed and stuck her again but softer and even rubbed her afterwards.

Taylor gasped and pause for a moment to gather herself before saying, "S-six."

"Almost there but I won't be like the hare." He told her and Taylor took a deep breath nodding again for him to continue. At this point, Wonka was angry anymore, but he also refused to stop right in the middle. He was a man that had to finish everything he started or else it would drive him up a wall. Wonka eyed Taylor for a bit noticing how her head slumped to the side and her legs dangled lifelessly. The wet spot from where her tears fell had gotten more prominent, but he was satisfied. Well, this wasn't fun anymore if she was just going to give up and take it. Wonka's nose scrunched up at his dismay and for a second he thought about actually quitting. Ultimately pushing her off his lap and marching away with a new annoyance hanging over his head. Then an idea sparked, he knew how to get her lively again.

"God I hate when you space out, do that when I'm not bent over your lap." Taylor's comment snapped Wonka out of his trance and that was enough for him to put his plan in action. Wonka quickly pulled down her shorts along with her underwear and slipped them off her legs. Taylor reaction was immediate when she felt the tug of her clothes. She tried to get out of his lap but the hand on her lower back shot back up and pushed her down. Now she was a bit embarrassed but also turned on. This was the former outcome she wasn't expecting to happen. Wonka brought his hand up again and brought it down on the raw skin. The echo of her skin filled the room and both of them shivered. The sting still hurt but now it felt somewhat good.

"Seven." Taylor moaned and rolled her eyes at how quickly her body betrayed her. Wonka giggled which caused Taylor to shake her head at his bullshit. She waited for the next hit just hoping he would have his fun quickly and she wouldn't be put on a display of getting turned on. Instead, Wonka rudded her cheeks again then slipped his middle finger between them towards her centre. Taylor breath hitched along with her heart and she bit back a moan. He rubbed her slowly then pulled his hand away, earning him a grumble of curses and spite.

He continues to do this for the next two hits, this time keeping his fingers between her leg longer and working her up before pulling away and leaving her to perish. Taylor couldn't bring herself to care anymore and started to grind against his leg when the feeling began to fade. Wonka had to admit that the sight of her gripping his leg and rocking back and forth was exciting and made him hot under the collar. Taylor could feel his excitement beginning to rise as her stomach brushed against his middle. She smirked and moaned out his name, knowing he would lose himself. Wonka shuttered at the sound of his name on her tongue. The hand on her upper back lowered to the small of her back and back up. The hand the was being used to attack her ass repeatedly took handfuls of cheek and squeeze it.

"William." Taylor was always amazed at how easy his full name slipped off her tongue like water. She was still amazed that she never cringed at saying it either. She would cringe if she used his iconic nickname-which she had done many times and regretted it later. Through a shaky pant, Taylor lowered her head and bit down on his thigh through his dress pants. Biting was a primary 'hell yes' for the both of them no matter who was biting or getting bit. Wonka twitched and jolted forward a bit, biting down on his lip to stop his own moan from slipping out. He grabbed Taylor's right cheek and squeezed hard, digging his gloved nails into her skin. Taylor hummed in bliss then bit down harder when the final slap of her ass rocketed her forward. She unlatched quickly to moan out 'ten' which finally satisfied both of them in need of getting to the end. But all of these wasn't over just yet. Taylor threw her head back and started grinding on his leg again. Wonka eyes fluttered as she shifted towards him so when she rocked she brush against him purposefully. His hand on her ass slipped back between her legs. He drew different shapes with the tip of his finger driving the poor girl wild.

"Ahh-Sir." Taylor moaned again and gripped his pants leg for dear life. Wonka bucked his hips forward, trying to chase his high, but when it didn't measure up, he knew they had to change positions quickly or he was going to lose his mind. He pulled his hand away once more and tapped for her to stand up. Taylor, groaning the whole time, pushed back on his leg onto her toes to stand up. Once he was standing he pulled her between his legs by her waist. There was a silent agreement between them that she was overdressed and the uniform had to go. Wonka rose his fingers to start snapping off the long row of buttons that kept him away from the treasure underneath.

"I'm still mad about what you're doing," Taylor commented out loud. Wonka shot his eyes up to look at her and rolled them, of course she would bring that up again. Way to kill the mood.

"Not for long, you won't. Now being a good girl and shut your mouth for more than two minutes."

"Bit me," Taylor shot back and soon regretted as Wonka pulled her dress off and her into his lap to do just so. When he pulled away after finishing his attack, he watched as Taylor's eyes lowered and her mouth trembled.

"Careful what you ask for. I'm a man that enjoys giving the people what they want." Wonka smirked and licked his lip seductively drawing her eyes down to his mouth. Many ideas came into her mind in how to get his mouth any and everywhere on her body. It made her bit her own bottom lip and moan. Wonka smirked and pulled Taylor in for a kiss by the back of her head. They both melted into each other and moaned, both taking turns trying to dominate one another. Wonka came out as victory as Taylor gave up and threw her head back for air. His lips continued to trail down her jaw and neck and finally to her collar bone.

"Now, let's see how long you can continue to be upset with me."

#ns//fw #my wonka #willy wonka #self ship #self insert #self shipping #self shipping community

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hannah-mic · 7 years

Note

Y/N can't sleep unless Hook is sleeping next to her. The rest is up to you.

Here we go, I took the idea and ran with it so sorry I got carried away lol. Lemme know what you think.

Warning: mentions of rape and abusive relationships

Killian Jones x reader imagine

“You filthy piece of scum!” you shout at Blackbeard clutching your cheek where he back handed you. “You crazy wench you agreed to be a deck hand on this ship, so you will follow my orders,” Blackbeard steps toward you menacingly and pushes you down to the ground. You fall back in your leather pants and boots as you feel the shirt on your back rip. “You promised to teach me to sail,” you look up at him from your crumpled position on the deck, feeling very betrayed. You were a young traveling merchant’s daughter but in order to learn the business you needed to learn to sail first. And Blackbeard promised to be a gentleman, but he lied. You can remember vividly the first night he used you. He got you so drunk you passed out and he raped you. You woke up while it was happening, and that memory will forever haunt you. Ever since then he’s treated you like a piece of meat, but whenever you try to leave he threatens your life. Back in the present Blackbeard was kicking you senseless while you lay in a crumpled heat on the deck. You know the ribs he’s kicking will be black and blue tomorrow. “Blackbeard, please, please stop it,” you sob. “You’re pathetic,” he tells you and slaps you across the face again. You feel your lip split open and the blood pour out. You can taste the metallic on your tongue. “Get up,” he tells you. All you can do is oblige so you slowly get on your feet. Blackbeard pushes you against the side of the deck and drunkenly gropes you around the hips. All you can do is silently cry. You accidentally make an audible sob and Blackbeard throws his elbow into your side. You yelp in pain. He turns you around to assault you some more when you hear a deep voice shout from the docks, “That’s not the way to treat a lady.” You look up to see another leather clad pirate standing there, looking down at you. There’s something different about him though. His caribbean blue eyes stare into your very soul. You look up at him, helpless, your (h/c) hair falling over your face. “Captain Hook, what an unpleasant surprise. Even more of a surprise, you, trying to act like a hero. Well your heroic services aren’t needed here, (y/n) is a consenting deck hand,” Blackbeard’s voice drips with sarcasm. “Right (y/n)?” he adds. When you don’t answer right away, he claws into your back, making you whimper in pain. “Right,” you nod looking down. “Ah you see Blackbeard, I may be a pirate, but I’m always a gentleman, and you sir are not,” Hook says walking onto the deck. “Get the fuck out of here before I run a sword through you,” Blackbeard growls at him. “I think I’ll take my chances, after all, you seem to be pretty intoxicated,” Hook raises his eyebrows at at the drunken pirate before him. “Very well,” Blackbeard sputters and clumsily pulls out his sword. Before he even has the sword facing Hook, Blackbeard is knocked out by Hook’s fist in his face. He crumples to the ground in a drunken heap. While they were arguing, you had brought your knees into your chest and used your hair to cover your face. You hear footsteps near your hiding spot and find yourself once again staring into those big, deep, blue eyes. “I’m awful sorry about what he did to you lass,” Hook offers you a hand. You stare at his left arm and the Hook at the end of it, fear in your eyes. Hook follows your gaze. “It’s okay love, I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he squats down to your level. For some reason you believe him, and after a beat, you take his hand and stand up.

Killian leads you back to his ship, the Jolly Rodger, and leads you below deck. He walks into a spare cabin and says, “You’re more than welcome to stay here love, as long as you need.” You smile graciously and say, “Thank you,” quietly. “Anything you need, I’m just one room away,” he tells you and bows out of the room. So you sit on the edge of the bed and pull off your boots. You nearly collapse on the bed, hoping to get a peaceful rest.

You wake up in a sweat, panicking. “It’s okay (y/n), it was just a dream,” you tell yourself, not quite believing it. The flashbacks roll through your head one by one. The bruises on your face as Blackbeard beat you up and threw you overboard, countless times. Then he pulls you back onboard and puts you back to work. You have to remind yourself that you’re safe now on the Jolly Rodger.

You roll out of bed and walk out of your cabin up on deck. The salty air calms you and you decide to sit there for a while. So you sit on the side of the boat staring up at the stars out over the water. You struggle to slow down your breathing, still not believing you are safe. “Breath, breath, breath,” you tell yourself. As your heart rate begins to slow down, you finally take in your surroundings. It is a grand ship and such a clear night. Just beginning to relax, you jump out of your skin when you hear a voice behind you say, “Can’t sleep love?” You turn around shaking and look up at him shyly. “No, I guess I just can’t believe that I’m finally free of that monster. I never got to thank you, so thank you, by the way,” you put a hand on his arm, gratitude flowing out of you. He shrugs off your praise saying, “It was the honorable thing to do.” “But if you’re a pirate, why are you so sweet?” you ask him. He smiles at you sadly, “I hold myself to a certain standard love.” He walks over to a bucket, and brings it back to you with a wash cloth. “Now, lets clean these bad memories away,” he tells you as he dips the washcloth in the bucket. He brings the wash cloth to your lips, but before proceeding asks, “Is this ok?” You nod. He gently dabs the cut on your lip and you flinch back in pain. “Sorry love, just relax. Can I continue?” Once again you nod. So he dabs your lip until the dry blood crumbles away. Next he wipes the bruise near your eye and and brushes your hair away from your face. For the first time you look back into his eyes. “God, you have beautiful (e/c), eyes, now that I’ve finally seen them,” he smirks at you. You just blush in return. “Any other injuries?” he asks you. “I think i definitely bruised some ribs,” you tell him. This time it’s Hook that blushes, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. “Well I’m sure that will heal in a few weeks time.” You nod at his response. “Thank you, captain,” you tell him. “Killian. It’s Killian,” he places his hand on yours. “Thank you, Killian,” you place your hand on top of his. “And what can I call you?” he asks you. “My name is (y/n),” you smile at him. So the two of you walk back below deck and enter your cabins. “Good night, (y/n),” Killian smiles at you as he walks in his room. “Good night,” you say even though you still don’t sleep.

Three days laterKillian walks up on deck to find you still standing there, staring up at the sky. He smiles to see you standing there in a pair of his old striped pajamas. “(Y/n), you promised me you would go to sleep,” he comes up behind you. “I know,” you turn back to look at him. “I’m sorry,” you add, “I just can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I’m right back there, and I just can’t trust myself to sleep because anytime I would go to sleep there, I’d wake up assaulted,” you finish. Killian looks at you shyly and blurts out, “Then come sleep with me.” You stare at him, your eyes wide. “I mean purely just so you can sleep. You haven’t slept in a long time. Even the bags under your eyes have bags on them,” he gestures to your face. You are absolutely shocked when you find yourself saying back, “Okay. Maybe now I’ll actually sleep,” you smile sheepishly. So Killian offers you a hand, and you take it. He leads you down into his cabin. When you enter his cabin you are overwhelmed with the scent of spice, leather, and rum. “Sorry love, I know it smells like man in here,” he winks at you. His attitude with you beginning to get cheeky. So he pulls back the covers on his bed and pats the spot for you to sleep in. You lay down, hesitant. Killian pulls back the covers and crawls in next to you. You can feel him laying rigid, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. You smile to think about how lucky you are to have met such a respectable pirate.

The next morningYou wake up with a smile on your face and instantly know why. You can feel Killian’s big strong arm wrapped around you, the stump of his hand nestled on your waist. “Killian, Killian wake up,” you nudge him. He opens his eyes and realizes the situation you have landed yourself in. “(Y/n), love I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I just-“ You cut him off by saying, “Killian. That’s the best nights sleep I’ve had, since forever.” You turn over and smile at him. “Oh, well then your welcome,” he winks at you. “Jesus Killian you are such a flirt,” you playfully punch him on the arm. “Come on (y/n), time to sail,” he tells you as he jumps out of bed.

Later that night“Thanks again for teaching me to sail,” you smile at Killian as he stands in the doorway to his cabin. “Are you sure, you don’t want to sleep in here,” Killian gestures to his room. “I’m fine, but thank you,” you tell him. He nods and you step into your room.

The middle of the nightYou roll over in your sleep, having yet another nightmare. Blackbeard was hitting you repeatedly with the butt of his sword. “Please stop! STOP!” you scream in your sleep. Killian bursts through the door and shakes you awake. “(Y/n), (y/n)! It’s ok, it’s just a nightmare. He can’t hurt you now,” he says brushing the sweaty hair away that is clinging to your face. “Oh, right,” you say. “I’m sorry I woke you,” you tell him. “That’s alright darling, but you have to stop sacrificing your own rest time. That’s it, you’re sleeping with me from now on. I’ll always be there, to protect you,” he squeezes your hand. “Okay, you’re right,” you nod. So you pick yourself up off the bed and walk across the corridor into Killian’s room. You roll into bed next to him and giggle when he wraps his big arm around you. “What is it?” he asks you. “Nothing, it’s just, after you rescued me I promised myself I’d never sleep with another pirate.” “Well we don’t have to sleep,” he smirks at you. You giggle and nudge him in the stomach. “Thank you, Killian,” you say muffled as you curl into his chest. He squeezes you into him and says, “I’ll protect you, always. Sleep well.” He plants a swift kiss on your forehead. And you fall into a deep sleep. From that moment on, you never spent another night apart from Killian. And you always slept soundly.

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