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ladyofmaidensandwine · 4 years

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Day Five

Day Five of the Hello Spring 2020 Writing Prompt Challenge

Characters- Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Fem! Reader, Unnamed Female Character

Prompt- “Maybe you can come to my show?”

A/N- This is a bit of personal experience- I danced as Cinderella when I was younger.

Wordcount- 919

Three. The number of bodies that had dropped in the last two weeks. It was strange to say the least, and though the FBI wasn’t what you’d pictured, it made sense someone would come to investigate the abnormal deaths. Your dancing was your life, and having been a ballerina since you were old enough to twirl in a tutu, performing on stage was the one place you felt most at home. You never even felt stage-fright. But with three ballerinas in the morgue, now you were scared. This felt like an attack- how else could three young women suddenly die of heart attacks the night of their recital? None of it made any sense, and then you had overhead the FBI agents on your way home from practice, and had more questions than answers.

“I dunno, Sammy, this seems more witchy than vengeful spirit.” The shorter agent had said, low timbre settling warm in your stomach. “Yeah, I know, but we haven’t found any hex bags yet.” The taller man replied, sounding frustrated. “Well, keep lookin’. Way it’s been goin’, we don’t have long before another girl turns up dead.” The green-eyed man, who had introduced himself as Agent Young, but you severely doubted his credibility now, sighed. You stood in shock, and then in a moment of either extreme courage or stupidity, stepped into their view.

“Who are you? And don’t say FBI.” You demanded, eyes narrowed. You supposed you didn’t look very intimidating, in a black leotard with your ballet bag over your shoulder, but your voice was hard. “Shit. Well, cat’s outta the bag now. You wanna tell her, or should I?” The green-eyed Adonis asked, seemingly amused by the turn of events.

They’d given you “the talk”, and revealed that the ballerinas in starring roles were being targeted by a witch, and provided proof before you pulled pepper-spray on them, and that led you to now. “Dean, are you sure? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I... I really don’t want to die.” You confess, looking up at Dean nervously. You clicked with Dean well, and while Sam was perfectly kind to you, the oldest brother had a soft spot for you as well. “Hey, look at me, sweetheart. I swear to you we will catch the witch and put a stop to this, ok? I won’t let anything happen to you, promise.” Dean smiles warmly, and something about the sincerity in his forest-green eyes convinces you as you give a shaky nod. You’d danced as a thousand roles, but now, starring as Cinderella, you were the next target, and butterflies assaulted your gut. Thankfully, the witch seemed to wait until after the performance, which gave Sam and Dean time to “gank the bitch” as Dean said. The opening notes play from a piano, and you know it’s time, but you turn to Dean again for some silent comfort. Impulsively, he leans down and kisses you softly, looking only slightly flushed while you’re sure you’re a mess when he pulls away. “Go get ‘em, sweetheart.” He winks.

The ballet is almost over, and you’re gliding and pirouetting through the closing act with a Prince Charming you can’t help but compare to Dean when you look to the wings of the stage and find Dean standing there, giving you a nod. You understand immediately, and a weight is lifted- they must’ve found and killed the witch, and while it won’t bring back your friends and fellow ballerinas, you are immensely satisfied to know justice is served. The rest of Cinderella flies past you in a blur of blues and golds and a rush of applause- your smile grows exponentially when you sneak a glance at Dean and see his own wide grin as he cheers for you- before you take a final bow.

Giddy with pride, relief, and excitement, you rush towards the two men, embracing Dean with a laugh. “You did it, right? She’s gone?” You ask, just to be sure. “Yeah, we got her. You’re safe. But, uh, we were thinkin’ about maybe sticking a round for a while. Just in case.” Dean winks. He presents you with a single rose, and you know you must be glowing like a beacon from the bright red staining your cheeks. Over Dean’s shoulder, your best friend is giving you a not-so-subtle thumbs-up you try your hardest to ignore. “Dean, this is so sweet. Thank you.” You say with a smile, leaning up on your pointe shoes and kissing his cheek. You stifle a laugh at his wide-eyes and cheesy smile. “Well, if you’re going to be here next week, I have another recital. You didn’t really see the performance, so maybe you can come to my show?” You offer hopefully. Dean glances at Sam, and then back to you. “I think we can swing that. Do I get front-row seating?” Dean teases. “Only the best for my favourite audience member.” You wink back, feeling your heart beating over-zealously and those butterflies swoop in your stomach. “Y/N, if you’re free, I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner sometime.” Dean proposes, trying his best to be very casual about it. “I’d love to.” You sport matching smiles, and Dean elbows his brother in the ribs when he mutters something under his breath as you laugh quietly. “After you, Cinderella.” “Why thank you, Prince Charming.”

Dean ended up with front-row seating to every one of your recitals- only the best for your boyfriend.

TAGS-

@ibwhellowriting

#ibw: hello spring 2020 #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #y/n

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agentdagonet · 4 years

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Echoes, Ch. 33

Find it here on AO3

Find it here on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Fic Summary: Feet dangling off the edge of the bed, hands still resting on the earpieces of his glasses, Eggsy opened his eyes.

And promptly shut them again, screwing them shut like a child who had the distinct misfortune of biting into a raw lemon. Breathing harshly in his nose and out his mouth, trying to stave off whatever delusional panic had befallen him, Eggsy reopened his eyes.

‘Harry?’

Or: The Hologram Story Nobody Asked For

Harry could scarcely remember a time he had been more inclined to rip someone’s hands from their body, but Kelline was somehow a tier all to herself. She’d taken a while to approach Eggsy, had instead attempted to entice him into approaching her, but he’d made a show of being unimpressed- and somehow that had impressed her. He was in his old streetwear, winged shoes luckily Kingsman-made despite their common appearance, sans glasses. For all the world he looked like a local out for a night, and if not for the untested adhesive audio transmitters secured in his ears Eggsy would have been entirely on his own outside of Harry’s watchful eye.

Unfortunately, the technology meant that Harry was privy to their entire conversation, which he attempted to ignore entirely- but a mention of himself had him tuning back in.

‘Do you see the gentleman at the end of the bar, Dean?’ Eggsy had chosen the name for himself, and Harry couldn’t understand why he would bring even the memory of that man into his work. But there were a great many things he did not understand about Eggsy, and that was half the charm. Always on his toes.

‘What ‘bout him, Kells?’ Harry was sure to wait a moment too long before he turned his head away from the sight of Eggsy with Grisham.

‘Kelline, please, Dean- I’ve spent long enough being called by derivatives to know I don’t desire it in bed.’

‘We ain’t in a bed, luv.’

‘Not yet.’ Eggsy made a show of looking her over, one eyebrow raised and lip caught between his teeth, inwardly groaning at the show he was being forced to put on. It was the job, and he loved the job, but this woman was frustrating as hell. ‘But back to the point- that man has had his eyes on you all night.’ Finally.

‘Has he?’ Eggsy smirked, brushed a hand across her shoulder to unnecessarily move some hair out of his way, ‘why do you care? I’m over here with you, ain’t I?’

‘What if I want him to watch us?’ She whispered it into the edge of his ear, briefly running her tongue along the lobe before biting softly.

‘Then I’m at your service, Kelline.’ Eggsy turned the two of them so she was pressed against the edge of the bar, one hand on the bartop and the other slowly running its way up her back. ‘Let’s give ‘im somethin’ to talk about, yeah?’

Harry meant to make himself less obvious, to be more the shy man uncomfortable with his desires than the lecherous voyeur, but that simply did not happen. His hand tightened on his near empty pint, and he could scarcely look away. Eggsy was barely taller than she was, but had made sure to bend at such an angle as to make himself seem more imposing, almost looming over her, as they kissed. Her eyes were mostly closed, the smallest sliver revealing that her gaze flickered between the two of them, mind not fully engaged with the physical side of the show. Harry tried desperately to tune out the sounds of their lips coming apart and together again, unable to stop himself from putting himself in her place. The taste of his lips, the feel of Eggsy’s strength atop his own.

Grisham locked eyes with Harry and moved one hand to Eggsy’s hair, tugged a bit at the base and Eggsy let out what Harry could only assume was a genuine moan of pleasure before diving back into her mouth.

Harry let his mouth fall open just enough to be noticable, pulling himself back to at least a semblance of professionalism while keeping her attention. Grisham pulled back from the kiss and scratched her nails across Eggsy’s scalp, grinning at the full-body shiver the action evoked.

‘He’s watching.’

‘Weren’t that the point?’ Eggsy grinned into her neck, the edges of his teeth visible to Harry from across the room, before biting down. Grisham moaned and pulled his head back up to force their lips back together. ‘D’you want him to join us?’ Eggsy whispered between kisses, checking Harry out briefly, ‘he ain’t bad lookin’.’ What was Eggsy doing now?

‘I’m more of a one man kind of woman, Dean- but we could invite him to see things a little closer, if you like.’ This was not part of the plan, and Harry was going to kill him. Slowly. But for now all he could do was turn away and pretend to be embarrassed.

‘The fuck are you doing, Eggsy? The point was to not have you two connected.’ Merlin grumbled into the mic and Harry hummed his head in silent agreement, hiding it in his now empty glass.

‘Think you like the idea of that, don’t you sweethear’?’ Eggsy breathed into Grisham’s ear, ‘Someone close ‘nough to hear you pantin’ for it who ain’t allowed to touch. You like ‘em rough an’ young and a bit forbidden. Like to tempt ev’ryone else like fuckin’ Eve an’ the apple.’ Eggsy ran a fingertip up the side of her ribs, casually glancing across the edge of her breast, before returning his hand to her waist. ‘I don’ mind bein’ used, but if we’re gonna do this,’ Eggsy pulled her off the bar and fully into himself, forcing her to look up into his eyes, ‘we’re gonna do it right, you get me?’

On the one hand, Harry was impressed with his use of doublespeak to address Merlin’s concerns- on the other he was furious with being put into this position by the man. Grisham was obviously going for it, the heave of her chest and wide-eyed look she was giving Eggsy all he needed to know that they would be approaching him soon. He had approximately 2 minutes, but probably less than that, to come to a decision.

Did he particularly want to see Eggsy and Grisham closer than he already had? Not at all; but being in closer proximity than he was currently in could only give more opportunities to obtain the information they needed, so for the sake of the mission he should. And that was the priority- the mission- so the decision had technically already been made.

‘Got a question for ya, mate.’ Eggsy had either made it to Harry’s end of the bar far quicker than he’d estimated it would take, or he’d been too focused on his non-choices to notice his approach. Either way, Harry blinked his way back into the present and looked up at Eggsy the same way he’d looked at Dean’s goons all that time ago.

‘What could you possibly have to ask of me?’

‘D’you want to come an’ watch us a bit closer? Can’t have that good a view from here, bruv.’ Eggsy smirked, and cocked one hip as he crossed his arms. Harry could see Kelline watching avidly from her spot on the far end of the bar, and frowned slightly as he met Eggsy’s gaze briefly, brows furrowed as he looked away again. Tell-tale flush to his ears, shoulders slumped- the image of a man caught out in an embarrassing but not dangerous circumstance. Someone who hadn’t meant to be obvious. Hadn’t meant to be caught.

‘Don’t hurt yourself, just give it a think an’ come by when you’re ready.’ That cheeky shit. If there had been any doubt that Eggsy couldn’t fall back into old habits, it was certainly gone now. But Harry refused to look up from the tabletop, and Eggsy hesitated for a breath before walking back toward his target. It wasn’t the plan, to be sure, but he knew how birds like her thought. She wanted to be the only thing anyone remembered about that evening, whether due to her knowledge of her actions she wanted to be memorable. She wanted to know she was remembered, and there was little as memorable as a voyeuristic escapade in a crowded bar; both for those directly involved and for those on the outskirts. If Harry came and joined them, in whatever way Kelline directed, every person in that bar would know what was happening.

And that’s exactly the kind of audience that wouldn’t notice anything amiss- a captive one.

So he swaggered his way back toward Grisham, shoulders back and grin wide, and greeted her with a kiss. ‘Asked if he wanted a better view.’

‘And?’ Her cheeks were flushed, pupils dilated as she searched his face for some hint of an answer. Eager to know the game they were going to play. He shrugged and pulled her closer, one hand draping itself just above her arse while the other sat respectfully on her waist- fingers squeezing just tight enough to remind her of their size without leaving any marks,

‘An’ we’ll have to wait an’ see- he weren’t expectin’ to be noticed. Seemed out of sorts- told ‘im to come by when he was ready.’

‘When?’

‘Men like ‘im don’ let opportunity pass ‘em when it comes to the shit they ain’t supposed to want.’

‘Then, Dean, let’s get back with the programme.’ Kelline looked up at him from between her lashes, blue eyes bright even in the dim lighting, and Eggsy couldn’t help but note that she was beautiful on the outside. Like a poisonous flower that didn’t know any other way to be. But Eggsy had grown among poisonous plants, had adapted to their toxic perfumes and blinding colours, and knew how far his resistance could take him.

And this? This was nothing.

So he smiled and leant forward, brought their lips together softly before demanding more, cornering her between the bar, the wall, and himself with one hand pulling her fully to him. He didn’t need Merlin’s warning that Harry was approaching- if there was one thing he was attuned to it was his presence, but he still maneuvered them back toward the bar. In plainer view of both the general customers and the man approaching them while desperately trying to seem as if that was not what he was doing.

For everything Eggsy knew about Harry, seeing his acting in action was something else- he’d never have guessed that Harry was within the man sheepishly making his way down the bar. The other patrons leered as he went by, likely thinking their actions covert when glancing from the couple to the elder gentleman making his way. They’d get to have a laugh about it later.

It was showtime.

#dagonet writes #kingsman #kingsman fic #echoes fic

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