#ignore the silly little hat pay attention to everything else x

[kai-pak]

When: 14th April Where: St Vlad’s Who: @nearnehir​

Kai had never minded hard work. Helping his dad out with the trucks during school, then his years at the mines. Even the grunt work at the prison, where they’d be forced into gruelling hours upon hours of manual labour just to earn a couple of dollars that could buy them nothing. So when he was looking for work after his release, it wasn’t much wonder that he fell into a construction job, especially ones working for the less favourable in the cty. But there was good money to be made, and a job that required so much energy stopped him reaching for the things he really needed to keep away from. 

The days were long though, and by the time he reached the end of them, throwing down the last stack of bricks he’d spent the better half of the afternoon moving from one side of the job to the other, his body ached. All he wanted was to fall into his couch with a stiff drink and a good meal. Better yet, a stiff drink and good company, if he could find the energy. He was just cleaning up, getting ready to leave, when he heard someone speak up behind him, turning to a familiar face. 

#nehir #nehir 1 #april 23 #ignore the silly little hat pay attention to everything else x

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 3: Plan B

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst

WC: 5.1k

Warnings for this chapter: language (jk will continue to have a potty mouth), a gun, attempted murder

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @sugaslittlekookies @jaebeomsblackgf @moon-asia

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger. 

Previous → Next

"Excuse m-me, sir."

Jungkook turns and his heart stops in his chest when he sees the wide eyes of a horribly familiar girl staring up at him.

You're clutching a piece of paper in your hands as a smile spreads on your face when you look at him closer. Jungkook blinks a few times, the rest of him frozen in horror at being caught.

"Th-This is for you." You hold out the paper.

Jungkook takes it limply, his eyes never leaving yours.

When the initial shock leaves his body, he tears his eyes away from you and looks down at what you gave him. He squints in confusion at what he sees. Then he looks back up at his target.

What the hell is this?

"Uh-"

"I hope it isn't c-creepy. I j-just thought it might make you s-smile." You brighten when he looks back down at the picture.

Jungkook swallows thickly.

On the piece of notebook paper, is a terribly drawn picture. But that isn't what's gotten his attention. On it, is an image of what he can only guess to be himself, sitting on a bench.

He looks back up at you, "Um, I don't understand..." His voice gives out on him as he fights the urge to bolt. Everything about this situation is telling him to run. You know him. You've known he was following you.

But you aren't outright telling him that you know...

What the hell does he do now?

You smile shyly, a small blush creeping up your cheeks. "I know it m-must seem weird. But p-please let m-me explain."

He nods uncertainly, forcing his feet to stay planted where he is.

"Ok," You wring your hands together and he watches in confusion as you blink a few times. "O-Ok, I like to d-draw. And sometimes when I d-don't have anything else to draw, I draw p-people. Then I give them the p-picture as a present to make them h-happy!" You bounce a little on the balls of your feet.

"But-..." Jungkook scratches his neck. "When did you do this?" He's starting to think maybe he's out of the line of fire. Perhaps he jumped to conclusions and you don't suspect him of following you at all.

You put a finger to your chin as you think about that. Then you tap your cheek, blinking hard a few times. "Mmm, I think it was Wednesday? Maybe Thursday..." You start mumbling to yourself.

Jungkook raises a brow, watching you curiously.

He looks around, no one seems to be paying attention to the two of you. Good, he can't be seen as one of the last people to be with you.

You suddenly speak up again, drawing his attention back to you.

"W-Well, anyway. I decided to m-make it and give it to you b-because you looked sad. Are y-you lonely?" You look up at him with big eyes and he blinks, looking away for a second to regain his composure.

Damn, she's nosy.

Jungkook clears his throat and looks back at you, "I'm not lonely. And as much as I appreciate the thought, I don't need this." Then he shoves the picture into your chest, making you flinch and grab it.

"Have a good day." He says curtly, then he turns and walks as quickly as he can away from the situation.

After a minute of walking, Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief to be out of that. He messed up. Now he really needs to get this done quickly before the target figures anything out for real this time.

The relief is short-lived though. A second later, he flinches when he hears a voice calling out to him and the sound of feet running.

"Wait! Mister, p-please wait!"

Jungkook pulls his hat down further and picks up his pace, trying to find a crowd he can lose you in.

He's squeezing in-between people and pushing past others, ignoring their sounds of annoyance. Then a hand grabs the sleeve of his jacket and he internally groans.

Shit, she's fast.

Jungkook shakes you off of him and turns to glare at you.

 "What?" He snaps.

You blink and cock your head to the side for a second before straightening it out, a crooked smile forming on your face.

"I w-wasn't able to introduce m-myself." You state simply.

Jungkook audibly sighs, "Look, I'm busy."

"Oh." Your face falls and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.

You look at the ground for a second, then you look back at him, your eyes bright again and the smile back on your face. "P-Please, take the picture. I have n-no room in my bag f-for it."

Jungkook sighs again and snatches the picture out of your hands, "Fine. Happy?" He waves it in the air before folding it and sticking it in his jacket pocket.

You nod happily, "My n-name is ____."

 I know.

"Alright." He looks away, trying to give you the hint that he's done with the conversation.

"What's y-your name?"

Gosh, she never shuts up, does she?

"Jungkook."

...

...

...Fuck.

Why in the literal hell would he say his real name just now?

He wasn't thinking. He just wanted you to shut up. 

You see the look of pure panic on his face and laugh to make him feel better, "Nice t-to meet you, J-Jungkook." He must have trouble talking with people, you think. 

"Ok, well yeah, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for the picture. Goodbye." He turns and all but runs off, finally disappearing into a crowd.

You watch him go into the big crowd and you smile, he was so kind. Giggling and looking down at your fingers, you turn and start making your way home. _______________

Jungkook hauls ass all the way back to his place, constantly making sudden turns and glancing around to make sure you're not hot on his heels.

When he finally makes it up the stairs and into his apartment, he locks the door and yanks his shoes off, hurling them at the front door and flinching when they slam against it loudly.

There aren't enough curse words in his vocabulary for him to scream into his pillow that would satisfy him right now. He starts to shake, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as his brain goes into overdrive trying to figure out what to do now.

He's never been caught.

Not once. 

He's never even been close to getting caught. 

In and out, one and done.

That's how it's always been for him.

Jungkook takes his hat off and tosses it onto the tiny dining table, then he walks over to his bed and flops onto it, face down.

"I quit." He mumbles into the comforter forlornly.

Then he lays there for a minute, contemplating everything.

"I can't quit..." He mutters to himself a second later.

It's impossible.

He can't quit.

He just needs to get it over with tonight.

No more hesitating, no more distractions, no more overthinking. It doesn't matter that she saw his face and knows his name. She'll be dead by morning anyway, and it's not like her friend is here for her to tell anything about him to.

Once he's calmed himself down enough to think clearly, Jungkook gets up and moves to his closet to pull out the safe. He puts in the code and it swings open when he gives it a little tug. He takes out the gun that he failed to use the other night, then he unloads it, pouring the little bullets onto his bed. Jungkook counts them before reloading them, then he dumps them out again, counting them before once again reloading them.

He does this whenever he needs to think, it helps him concentrate. When he's unloaded and reloaded it four times, he's finally able to take a deep breath. He sits on the edge of his bed, his head hanging for a minute before he lifts it and stares at the wall. _______________

When you get home, you kick your shoes off and head straight to the kitchen to grab a snack. You grab a little drinkable yogurt and grin as you open it up and take a sip. 

Then you move to sit on your couch, still gently sipping your yogurt. When you're almost halfway done with your snack, you pull out your phone and text Mina. 

You 4:32- Mina, I met someone today ^-^

Then you toss your phone next to you and grab your TV remote, turning it on you quickly find the drama you're currently binging and you hit play. 

After a few minutes, you hear your phone bling. You pause the show and grab it to see Mina has answered you. 

Mina 4:40- YOU WHAT? WHO

You laugh quietly and you're typing a reply when a picture of you and Mina making silly faces pops up on the screen and the ringtone you made special for her starts ringing. You answer it quickly, laughing when she shouts through the phone immediately. 

"WAS IT A BOY??" She shrieks, almost breaking your eardrums.

"Y-Yeah." You can feel the blush creeping up your neck at her next words.

"Is he cute? Is he single?"

"M-Mina!" You cry in embarrassment, "It isn't l-like that." 

You hear a disappointed sigh leave her lips, "Well, what is it like then?" She asks in curiosity. 

"I gave him a p-picture that I drew. He t-took it, Mina! He didn't say I was c-creepy like the other girl did." You're grinning from ear to ear. 

She laughs quietly as she realizes what this is about. "Ohh, so you drew a picture of him and gifted it to him?"

"Yup!"

"That's so sweet of you, ____. And he actually took it?" 

You nod, then remember she can't see you. 

"Y-Yes, he took it. He said th-thank you, and he told m-me his name!"

Mina laughs again at your excitement, "What's his name?"

"Jungkook."

"Ohhh," There's a teasing hint to her tone, "Sounds like a name fit for a cute guy. So, was he cute?" 

You bite your lip then whisper, "Uh, yes. He was c-cute." 

"Awww! ____ has her first cruuuush!" Mina shrieks again and you shake your head. 

"No, Mina. I d-don't have a crush on h-him! I just thought he was n-nice. He seemed like he would m-make a good friend." You pull at the hem of your skirt, your knees tucked up to your chin. 

You hear her giggle on the other side, then her tone turns serious. "Ok, you're right ____. No man is good enough to date my sweet best friend. Don't you dare pursue him until I get there and give my approval!"

You roll your eyes, "I'm not going to p-pursue him at all, silly."

You two chat for a couple of minutes, then you let her go because you both need to figure something out for dinner soon. 

You decide to finish the episode of the drama, but you can't resist and watch a few more after it. By the time you're able to peel your eyes away from the TV, the sun is starting to go down. You rub your eyes in confusion, I didn't realize how many episodes I watched. 

You stretch your arms above your head and yawn, "Ah, I should g-get some d-dinner," You stand up to go to your kitchen and scrounge around. You come up with a few pieces of celery, half a jar of kimchi, and one hard-boiled egg. 

You scrunch your nose at the emptiness of the fridge. You'll just have to go to the grocery store tomorrow. But until then, you decide to just go out and get something to eat for dinner and maybe find something for your lunch tomorrow. 

You pull your tennis shoes on and grab your bucket hat, plopping it onto your head. It doesn't go with the rest of your pastel outfit, but you don't really care. If it's comfy, then it's a win for you. 

Then you take your bag and sling it over your shoulder. Remembering to lock the door, you leave and head down the stairs. _______________

Jungkook thanks the man at the food stand as he takes the fishcake skewer and hands his money to the man. Then he bows and turns to make his way through the crowds of people that always come out at night in Seoul. 

He finds a bench in a park a little ways from the hustle and bustle of the city, so he sits there and takes a deep breath of the crisp evening air. Jungkook takes a bite of his fishcake, chewing it thoughtfully as he goes over the new plan of action in his head. 

A few people pass by while he sits there, one of them is a small girl with her mother. She reminds Jungkook of that little girl, Mi-Rah, from the other day. His throat constricts when he remembers the child's words to him. Then he scoffs and takes another bite of fishcake, chewing it aggressively. If that annoying kid hadn't distracted him, he wouldn't be sitting out here right now trying to come up with a new plan...stupid. 

Jungkook finishes his food, then he stretches his long limbs out, grunting from exhaustion. This hit is really taking a mental toll on him for literally no reason at all. He can't wait to be done with it. 

He rubs his hands together and stands up, stretching a bit more before heading in the direction of the target's home. 

He's going to finish this. 

Tonight. 

When Jungkook is a few blocks from her apartment, he slows down and glances around before slipping into the dark alleyway from the other night. Once he's in the dark, he slips the gun from his pocket and checks the bullets. It's an obsessive thing at this point, but it makes him feel more secure. 

He slides the last bullet back in, then-

"Jungkook?"

The gun clatters to the ground with a loud sound as Jungkook whips around to see the one person he doesn't want to see at this moment. 

Gosh fucking damn it all to hell. 

You're standing there, looking up at him from under your bucket hat. Jungkook scans you quickly, noticing you're still in your light yellow skirt and pink blouse from earlier. You have some bags in your hands as you smile at him. 

You don't seem to have taken notice of the fact that he literally just dropped the gun he was going to shoot you with. So, Jungkook quickly kicks it to the side, relieved when it slides behind a bag of trash. 

"Uhm, hi...____, right?" It takes all his willpower not to fumble over his words after being caught for the second time on the same day.

You nod happily at the fact that he remembered your name, "Yes! F-Funny to run into y-you again!"

Jungkook chuckles dryly, "Yeah, what a coincidence."  

You gesture to him with one of the bags in your hands, "D-Do you live n-near here?" 

Jungkook's nose twitches, but he keeps a straight face. "No, I just...I was out for a walk." 

"Ohh! Night walks are th-the best." 

"Mhm.." Jungkook looks around, trying to figure out what he should do. Maybe he should just do it now...yeah, that's the best idea. 

"So, what did you buy?" Jungkook asks suddenly, gesturing towards your bags. You take the bait instantly and brighten, bending down to place your bags on the ground so you can show him. 

The second you aren't looking, Jungkook crouches and grabs the gun from behind the trash bag he kicked it towards.

"Well, now. L-Let me see." You're crouched on your heels, looking through the bags. Jungkook cocks the gun and raises it, his finger on the trigger. 

"I've g-got an apple, that was from the k-kind old woman at the fruit s-stand-"

He's about to pull it when another voice rings out in the alley. 

"Miss ___! Is that you?"

Jungkook quickly brings the gun down, switching it to safety and stuffing it into the front of his pants. Clearly, he isn't thinking straight right now. 

You look up at that moment and glance behind Jungkook before a smile of recognition lights up your face. "Ohh! Mr. Ch-Chang! What are y-you doing out this l-late at night?"

Jungkook bites his lip in pure frustration and turns to see an older man smiling at the pair of you. "I was taking my trash out, and I thought I'd heard your voice coming from over here."

You grab your bags and scoot past Jungkook to greet the older man properly, "It's s-so nice to see you. It's b-been a l-long time!" 

Mr. Chang smiles and nods, "It has indeed. And who is this handsome young fellow?"

He looks around you at Jungkook, who screams internally, not knowing anything that could make this situation worse. 

"That's m-my new friend, Jungkook."

Oh, ok. So, that makes it worse. Good. 

Not only was his plan foiled, but this old man now has a visual and a name to put to someone should anything happen to you. 

Great, just great. 

"Ah, it's very nice to meet you, Jungkook." Mr. Chang holds out a shaky hand and Jungkook takes it and gives it a shake. "Oh, this one's got a good shake." The old man winks at you and you laugh. 

Jungkook forces a smile onto his face. 

He's always been good at charming people, that's what makes him so good at his job. 

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Chang." He says politely. 

"Well, very good. Very good. What do you say we all get out of this creepy old alley? Let's get into the light." Mr. Chang leads you and Jungkook out until the street lamps pour golden artificial light onto the three of you. Jungkook wants to flinch away, it feels like the light is exposing all the dirty little secrets he's got hidden away. 

But he remains stoic. 

You and the man exchange a few words before Mr. Chang clears his throat, "Alright dear, I really am an old man, I must be heading to bed. Jungkook," Jungkook looks up from where he was staring at the ground, "Hm?"

"Be a good lad and walk my young friend home?" He looks at Jungkook with such kind and trusting eyes that Jungkook finds himself looking away. 

"Of course." He mumbles. 

This man doesn't suspect a thing. He has no idea that the guy he's asking to protect his friend is the one that was about to kill her for a hefty price, and would have if he hadn't been interrupted. 

"Thank you. You two stay safe and I'll see you again, ___." 

"Goodnight, M-Mr. Chang!" You wave to him as he slowly makes his way around the corner. Then you turn to Jungkook and smile. 

Jungkook briefly wonders if your cheeks ever get sore from smiling all the time. 

"I l-live this way." You raise an arm to the right, the bag hanging from it dangles. Jungkook nods, then he starts to walk. You need to jog to catch up to him, his long legs take huge strides as he hurries down the street. 

The walk is silent, you sensing that Jungkook isn't really in the mood to talk. But it takes a lot of willpower for you not to start asking him different questions to get to know him more. 

When you've finally reached the stairs that lead up to your apartment, you huff in a breath. 

"Hoo, I'm so t-tired." You laugh. 

Jungkook looks at you, his face unchanging. 

You hold up a bag, "Would y-you mind carrying th-this up for me? I'm sorry, it's gotten so h-heavy during the walk. And I n-never walk that f-fast."

Jungkook takes the bag with a sigh, then he turns and hurries up the stairs, leaving you to huff and puff up them slowly behind him.  

When you reach your door, Jungkook sets the bag down on the ground and turns to leave, "Have a good night." He mumbles. 

"W-Wait!"

He turns back to you, biting back another sigh. 

"Th-Thank you...for today." You say softly, a hint of a smile on your lips. 

"No problem." He says quickly before hurrying down the stairs and disappearing around a corner. 

You unlock your door and bring in the bags, lugging them to the kitchen to start unpacking them. As you put the stuff you bought where it belongs in the kitchen, you think back on your day. 

It's so crazy that when you were so lonely without Mina, you were able to talk to someone new! A spark of hope comes alive in your chest that maybe you've just made a new friend. Hopefully, you'll see him again and you can learn more about him. 

You're so curious to know more about this dark and lonely stranger. _______________

Jungkook opens the door to his apartment, walking in slowly. 

He shuts the door and locks it, then he pulls off his shoes and drops them by the front door. After that, he walks over to his bed, pulls his pants and shirt off, then climbs into bed. 

Wrapped up in his covers, Jungkook stares straight ahead into the darkness. 

"How the hell am I going to do this?" He whispers numbly. 

His head is spinning with new plans and everything that's happened today, but he can't grasp a single one of those thoughts as they race by. 

Hours pass by as Jungkook tries desperately to get his head clear enough for him to focus. Eventually, he passes out from pure exhaustion, falling into a fitful sleep.

 The next morning, the sun slips through the blinds. The birds are just starting to sing their morning songs, their pretty little voices waking up the rest of the world. 

Jungkook shoots straight up in bed, "That's it!" He shouts, then he claps his hand over his mouth, remembering how thin the walls are in this apartment complex. 

A smirk spreads across his face as he takes his hand down, "Ah, thank goodness." Jungkook almost laughs out loud in relief at finding another solution.

He jumps out of bed and runs to the shower. It ends up being the shortest shower he's ever taken, he doesn't have any time to waste.

When he gets out, Jungkook grabs a bottle of chocolate milk and a banana before hurrying to get dressed and out the door. _______________

Jungkook arrives at the school before you, so he gets a paper and sits on the bench, as usual, waiting for you to appear. 

It only takes ten minutes of waiting until he spots you across the street. Jungkook smiles to himself and waits patiently. Sure enough, you glance across the street and see him looking at you. 

You feel a warm spark in your chest when you see your new friend sitting on the bench across the street from the school. You wave happily, delighted when he smiles and waves back. Then, he stands up and jogs across the street until he's standing right in front of you. 

"Good morning, ____." 

"Hi, J-Jungkook!" The smile on his face makes your cheeks warm as you look down at your feet. 

Then you look back at him, "H-Hey, would you l-like to hang out t-today?" You ask suddenly, but hopefully, afraid he might turn you down instantly. 

Instead, Jungkook's smile grows and he nods, "Sure. I'll meet you out here when you're off work." 

"O-Ok." You grin at him, not expecting him to agree so fast. Then you look at the time, "I have t-to go. I'll see you l-later." 

He waves as you turn and hurry into the school. 

Jungkook can't stop the smirk from coming as he watches you disappear into the doors of the school. If you insist on talking to him and making him your friend, then he'll just have to go along with it. _______________

"Alright, m-my little ducklings! Time t-to pack up!" You clap your hands to get their attention. They all listen immediately, moving to get their bags put together and ready for home. 

A few minutes later, the school bell rings, signaling the end of the day. 

The kids squeal with happiness and you feel your own rush of excitement, remembering that you have a new friend to spend the rest of your day with. The kids get into line quickly and you give them each a punch in their reward cards as they file out the door. 

The second you step out of the school, leading the line of little ducklings behind you, you glance across the street, but you don't see Jungkook sitting there. 

You try not to think too much about it and focus on getting the kids into the correct lines for the busses. 

You wave to Joon Woo as he climbs into his father's car. He and his dad wave to you and smile before driving away. 

Then you look across the street again, but there still isn't any sign of Jungkook. 

You bite your lip before turning and walking into the school.

Gathering your things, you think about all the things you and Jungkook might be able to do to pass the time. You're so consumed in your thoughts that you don't notice the knock on your door. The second time the person knocks, louder this time, you hear it. 

"C-Come in!" You call out, sorting the last bits of the worksheets that the kids did today. The door opens and Mr. Baek from class A walks in. 

You look up and smile at him, "Good afternoon, Mr. B-Baek. How can I h-help you?"

He glares down his long nose at you, "Did you give any thought to what I said last week?"

"Um..."

What did he say last week...?

Oh...

"Oh, uhm. Mr. Baek, I still d-don't understand."

"What do you not understand about it?" He snaps. 

You flinch, then set down the stack of papers and stand up while grabbing your bag. "I th-thought maybe you'd had a b-bad day-"

Mr. Baek scoffs loudly, cutting you off. 

"You aren't that dense, sweetheart."

The way he says that makes your stomach turn, "Ok, I'm s-sorry that you're upset. I h-have s-somewhere to be. If y-you'll excuse me." 

You move around him and hurry out of the room before he can say anything else. You really aren't sure what's gotten into him, but you're going to avoid him until he's over it. 

When you walk down the steps to the school, you look around, but Jungkook isn't anywhere to be seen. You try not to let it get to you, this has happened before. 

The only person who has ever followed through on plans with you is Mina. 

You blink a few times, then you start making your way home. 

"Going home so soon?" 

You turn to see Jungkook standing behind you.

A smile spreads on your face at the sight of him. "I thought y-you'd left." You say slowly. 

He shakes his head and steps closer to you, " I always keep my promises."

You feel your chest lift at his words, finally someone that isn't going to leave you hanging. Then you readjust the bag on your shoulder, "W-What would you like t-to do?"

Jungkook frowns when he notices something off about you. He knows it's none of his business and he doesn't really care, but he's curious. 

"Did something happen?" He asks, taking you by surprise, "You look kind of upset."

At that, you smile bigger, "N-Nothing happened! I'm f-fine." 

"Ok." Jungkook doesn't buy it, but he doesn't push you any further. He doesn't care enough to. 

"So, w-what did you w-want to do?" You ask again, relieved he doesn't continue to ask you what's wrong. 

"You pick." Jungkook gives you a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. 

You decide to ignore that and clap your hands together, "W-Well, I'm hungry! How about we g-get some food?" 

Jungkook nods, "Food sounds great, do you know any good places?"

You laugh and try to send him a wink, though it's the worst wink he's ever seen. "Oh boy, I know e-exactly what we c-can eat."

Jungkook gestures forward, "Lead the way."

The two of you talk about the weather as you stroll through the city, making your way to one of your favorite food carts. You don't have much to talk about besides that. You're trying to come up with some questions to ask him once you've got your food. 

Once you arrive at the steamed bun cart, you break into a little run. Jungkook watches you skip over and jump in place once you're in line. 

She acts like a kid. 

He shakes his head but hurries over to you anyway. 

You tell him all your favorite kinds and he suggests you get them because they sound good to him too. When you take your card out to pay, Jungkook beats you to it. He hands the man some cash before you can even blink. 

"Oh, y-you don't have to do th-that."

"I know." He says simply, thanking the man once he hands him the bag of buns and his change.

You two walk to the park that he had followed you to the other day and find a spot on the green grass. You plop down and pat the spot next to you, indicating that he should sit as well. Jungkook sits down and hands you the bag. 

"Th-Thank you for b-buying it." You whisper shyly. 

Jungkook shrugs, "No problem. Which one should we try first?"

"Um, the pork ones a-are really g-good." You say, taking out the two pork buns. You hand one to him and he immediately takes a big bite, making you chuckle a little. 

"Mm, you're right. It's delicious." Jungkook says around a mouthful of food. 

You nod, glad that he likes it. Then you start to eat yours, thinking about which question you should ask him first. 

"So, how long have you been a teacher?" Jungkook asks you suddenly. 

You swallow the bite you were chewing, "I j-just started at the b-beginning of the school year in A-August. I graduated from c-college last year." 

Jungkook nods knowingly, "That's good. So, you must be around twenty-two?"

You nod, "I am t-twenty-two, yes. How o-old are you?"

"I turned twenty-three in September," Jungkook says before taking another bite. 

"Oh, n-nice. And what d-do you do f-for work?" You ask politely. 

Jungkook swallows the bite that feels like it's stuck in his throat at your question. "I work for a small business. I just take care of client's needs and stuff." 

You smile, "That's a g-good job."

He nods, finishing off his last bite. 

"It pays the bills."

Why is he suddenly uncomfortable? There's something about you that makes him nervous, but he can't tell what it is. 

No, this is on his terms. This is all part of the plan, he just needs to play along. He needs you to trust him.

Jungkook glances over at you as you stuff more food into your mouth.

This is gonna be easier than I thought. 

______________________________

a/n: thank you so much for all the support so far! I hope y’all liked this one

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts reactions #bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts jungkook angst #bts angst #jungkook scenarios #BTS jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fic #hitman!jk #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts x reader #bts x y/n #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #kim namjoon

[deathvalleyusa]

day’s eye

Summary: In the eyes of a child named Daisy, Alfie Solomons is a thing of adventure books and mythical tales. As she grows he seems to morph to even more mythical proportions. That is, until Margate shows Daisy just how mortal and human Alfie is. ONE SHOT.

Characters: Alfie Solomons, Child OFC, OFC

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Language, S5 spoilers

A/N: Wrote this a while ago but only recently picked it up again. I had plans to write a fic about Nora (Daisy’s mom) and Alfie but this ended up happening instead lol. x-posted from AO3.

When one grows up without a father, people assume a terrible fate befell him. The War. An accident. Perhaps he had found himself in trouble with one of the many gangs that ran the streets of every city on British soil. His absence could be explained away.

When one grows up without a mother, death is often called upon as the excuse as well. Childbirth. Influenza. Beatings no one saved her from.

But in certain cases, the father is simply gone and the mother still lives and breathes. Daisy was one such case.

Her mother, a lovely woman named Nora, had dreams. Visions of a house, a garden, and a job to keep her steady. Daisy was a part of the vision, but not a part of the journey thus far. So at her grandparents cottage she stayed. Six years old, knowing her mum was somewhere else, trying her hardest.

The day Nora came for Daisy was one of excitement. Tears. Good-byes from her Papa and Gran, hugs that melted into her skin. A buzzing ecstatic feeling as they boarded the train, heading to a place called London.

"It's all new there for us, Daisy," Nora had said. Pretty in her makeup and burgundy cloche hat. "A life for us, eh? Me and my girl?"

Daisy was not expecting to meet a man that week.

At six, she'd met her fair share of men from her grandparents' village. Her mum had never brought around anyone other than her uncle Harry. So this man was something new entirely.

Daisy had thought he maybe had been a bear before he was a man. Towering and scruffily bearded, he was an odd one.

"This is little Daisy, then?" He had asked. Voice low, accent unlike the Liverpool one she had lived with all her life. He spoke with a curiosity and a kindness, deep blue eyes twinkling.

"That's her," Nora answered, beaming. "Daisy, this is my lovely friend Alfie."

He offered a hand. Daisy stared, then gave a glance to her mum. A supportive nod, and her tiny hand met his.

It was not unlike her grandfather's, or Uncle Harry's. Worn and slightly rough on the pads, work showed it's time through calluses and small light scars. It was warm though, gentle as he shook hers before enveloping it in another large hand. Daisy couldn't help but admire his rings and the small crown tattooed into his skin.

Like a man from the pictures, she thought to herself, giving a pleased smile. Like a pirate. Or a king.

One thing Daisy learned, as she spent more time with her mother and Alfie, was how much he spoke and how rapt her mother's attention was to his words. He spun stories, rambled about the folk about town. Posed hypotheticals at Nora who would answer after a long pause. Alfie would always include Daisy, posing the same questions or asking about life in a quiet village.

Years passed. Daisy, in her infinite child wisdom, came to understand some of the nature of Alfie besides his sweetness. That he was just as she had suspected, a pirate and a king. He terrified others, kept the men in the bakery in reverence of him.

She came to understand her mother as well. A woman with muted glamor, someone with quiet dreams that slowly seemed to materialize. She was not the princesses or damsels in the films or books Daisy consumed. No, she was something of a beautiful warrior.

Daisy thought of herself as an adventurer. No one feared a child of her age, and she had no one who needed her protection quite yet. Instead, she was a wily spirit, content with exploration during the day and a cozy home with her mother, and quite often Alfie, at night.

It came as no surprise at the age of nine when Alfie sat her down and explained he had asked her mother to marry him. Truly, it felt like a long put off event, and Daisy had just wanted it over and done with.

Alfie's laugh filled the sitting room when she told him.

"It's not always that simple, Daisy Bell," he said. "But I'm pleased, your mum expected you to take the news hard. Not sure why, but you are full of surprises, yeah?"

And so, on one afternoon that had gifted pockets of sun, Daisy watched as Alfie made her mother his pirate queen. Daisy, in turn, became a pirate as well. And with her new place as the daughter of a pirate and a king came new lodgings.

Not a ship, but a house with many rooms. A place for her toys and baubles, and a new wardrobe to hang the pretty things her mother liked to dress her in. Daisy quite liked to sneak into Alfie's study, staring at the little collections that lined shelves. On the occasions she snuck in while he sat at his desk, he'd call her over with a wave of his big hand. A sweet would appear, followed by a kiss to the head.

"Don't tell your mum," he'd whisper in gruff tones, "or she'll 'ave both of our heads for spoiling your dinner."

It was those moments she liked best, when the two of them would hold a small secret. Daisy knew Alfie and her mother had their own secrets, whispered under their breaths as if Daisy would pay it no mind. Talk of bread, of a man named Shelby. Nothing that ever reached her in her fortress.

And in that fortress protected by men led by Alfie, who as Daisy neared eleven, seemed more pirate than king, she thrived. Played with the other children, took pockets of Yiddish they taught her home to practice with her mother. Spent hours feeding treats to Cyril behind her parents’ backs. Tormented Alfie's men with silly games and questions they usually had no answer to. Ollie was her favorite. He had taught her to play cribbage in the moments where his time wasn't completely occupied with Alfie's commands.

There were long stretches where Alfie did not return home, only giving a phone call to calm Nora's nerves. Her mother would get whispered conversations; Daisy was given sweet words and a gentle good night or morning. Daisy contented herself with this, until one day Alfie did not return.

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

"He's gone to Margate," Nora explained, rubbing at her tired eyes. They seemed to grow more tired with each passing year. "I haven't heard from him yet, Daisy. Perhaps tomorrow we'll get a ring."

The call did not come. Daisy thought of terrible fates that befell kings and pirates. How easily it could happen to a man whose business kept him in hushed conversations. How her pa, dear Alfie, could be struck down in crossfire with the polished guns he kept locked in his study.

When a letter came, and with it a terrible wail from the beautiful mouth of her mother, Daisy knew she was right. Wished it not to be so; that there had been a terrible mistake and the news written was wrong. But sneaking a look at the letter when her mother had finally let it out of her grasp, Daisy found her worst thoughts had not been bad enough.

Alfie's wonderful handwriting lay before her. Asking forgiveness of Nora, then of her. A betrayal to the Shelby man detailed Alfie's demise. A desire to end a painful, cancerous existence that he had never spoke of to Daisy.

Another letter detailed his condition. Alive, but for how long would be up to him. Where he could be found in the winding streets of Margate.

With no noise, she returned the letter to it's envelope. Daisy took care to walk quietly, letting herself hang at the entry of her mother's room. For the first time in many years, she crawled beside her in the vast bed, letting a desperate hug melt into her skin.

On the eve of her twelfth birthday, the house with many rooms lay barren. Everything had been packed and sent to Margate, which Nora explained would become their new home. Daisy had seen her mother hold back tears as they locked the doors for a final time. Her house and her garden that had materialized out of her dreams since Daisy was very small was no more.

Camden Town had too much risk lying to the north to bring Alfie back even in secret. He was no longer a king, but a ghost of one. They were to follow the ghost, live in a haunted home by the sea.

In that haunted home, Daisy helped place Alfie's collections and her baubles on shelves. She ignored the moans from the guest room, which had become a makeshift hospital ward. Instead she practiced her piano and read on the balcony to avoid the noise. Wished that Cyril, wherever he had gone off to, was by her side to help her ward off the ghost that lived here.

Alfie haunted her, night and day. He haunted her mother more, once he became more coherent and spoke his rambling nonsense to her. More than once she had heard Nora's voice raised behind the oak door, and no reply from Alfie. Her mother was not an angry woman, but Margate in those early months had sparked like a flint and filled Nora’s glamorous face with a rage-fueled fire.

As time passed, Daisy returned to her schooling. New friends were found, and so was a sense of normal. Her mother’s anger had become smoldering coals, and she started to leave the house. Sometimes for pleasure, other times for business still left from Camden Town. Daisy wondered often if Alfie, who remained behind the closed door, envied their comings and goings. She wondered more if he missed her, months separating the moment she had seen him in a gauze mask till now.

***********

On an unremarkable Sunday afternoon, her mother had gone out for some air. Daisy had been left to her own devices, plunking out a song on the piano in the sitting room. A voice, one she hadn't heard in more than a gruff whisper in weeks, sang out:

"Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do!”  

He was awake. Calling to her, it seemed, with a silly song he'd sing to tease since she was small.

"I'm 'alf crazy, all the love for you!”

Daisy rose from the piano bench, wood upon wood scraping quietly before feet plodded to the guest room she avoided. Now, though, the call from within was irresistible.

The door groaned silent as she peeked in, black curls slipping around her shoulders. There in bed lay the man she called father. A man in a pitiful state, but lucid.

"Daisy Bell, sweetie." he managed to crack a smile. "I'll cover up this nasty face of mine if you like, yeah, I just need to see that cherub one of yours."

She stepped in, trod closer.

"It's all right," Daisy remitted. "Will it always look like that?"

Alfie took consideration. "It won't always be as red, yeah, but it'll still look like a gnarled fucking tree. Maybe it'll smooth one day, but it's stuck, love."

"Then don't cover it," she said quietly. "If it's forever, I need to get used to it."

"Wise words from the mouth of babes."

"I'm nearly thirteen." A slight bristle shook through her voice, reminding herself of her mother. "I'm no baby."

"Is that right?" Alfie shut his eyes, heaving a grumbly sigh. A few beats passed, and he opened his good eye. Deep blue, like the ocean at night. Daisy sometimes sat on the balcony of their townhome and watched the waves roll in and out. Alfie's eye held no waves, just stillness.

"Well, if you're such a grown woman now, with wisdom and maturity beyond all our years, right, you'll fetch your dad a thimble of whatever Mum's got in that fancy bar cart she had to have, yeah? A secret between us grown ones, so I can partake of the earthly pleasures again."

Daisy's face hardened. "Mum says you can't."

"A biscuit then. With a strong cuppa." Noting her doubtful looks, he gestured to his face. "The tea to soften the biscuit so this old man can chew softly."

Daisy gave him a doubtful look, but obliged. Wondered how many times he'd asked for small tokens from the nurse or her mother and was promptly shut down. She returned, biscuits and tea in hand.

"You have my undying gratitude, Daisy Bell," he said.

He seemed quite happy, but Daisy couldn't tell if the biscuits or her presence was more the cause. As he dipped a corner of the biscuit into his tea, she thought how silly it was for a ghost to enjoy afternoon tea. She couldn't help an amused smile.

"What's that you're giggling about?" Alfie asked. His own mouth drew into a devilish grin. "You do something funny to these biscuits, ey?"

"No," Daisy replied, smiling wider. "It's a silly thought is all."

"I haven't heard silly thoughts in some time, just a nurse droning on and on about health and tablets. Indulge me."

For the first time in many months, Daisy felt heard again. Hands grabbed the wooden chair next to the wardrobe, scooting close to Alfie. She even let her forearms rest on the side of his bed, close enough to feel warmth not usually becoming of a ghost.

"Well you see," she started, "when we met when I was very little, I saw your rings and tattoo and thought of the men in the books my Gran would read to me. All while we lived in London, I thought of you as a pirate king."

"Is that so?" he chuckled, taking a sip. "Reckon you were a pirate princess then, weren't you?"

"Something like that." Daisy grinned before looking away at the wall. "After Mum got the letter and we couldn't bring you home… Well, I felt like you were a ghost. Like I've been living with a ghost this whole time in Margate."

Alfie didn't respond. Daisy had known he wouldn't; the wound on the soul was still as raw as the scar on his eye.

"But just now, seeing you eat,” she continued, “I found it quite funny to see a ghost eat a biscuit and enjoy a cuppa. All ghosts should be that funny, I think."

"Do you?" Alfie heaved a great sigh, then chuckled. "Better to be a ghost with a sense of humor and an appetite for sweets than a man who's lost both, yeah?”

Daisy nodded. The more she let what he had said rattle about in her mind, the more she came to understand the thankful truth of it. Though she mourned her pirate king, Cyril, and the house with many rooms, Margate and its ghost with his biscuit and tea had their own comfort.

She once again was a child who had a father with a terrible fate that had befallen him. A dozen excuses could be made for his absence but Daisy knew this time, at least, that in secret he still existed. The little secrets they shared had grown to one of great magnitude, like ones of novels and myths.

“I’ve missed you.”

Alfie, who had finished one of his biscuits, eyed her up with that twinkle she loved so dearly in the still dark blue iris. The cup clinked against the saucer as he set it on his lap covered by a blanket. Daisy felt the familiar roughness of his hand as it grasped hers.

“So have I, Daisy.” He gave her hand a squeeze, the feeling less ghostly than she had imagined. “Someday, I promise you, I’ll be out of this terrible fuckin’ bed and you and I can do whatever pleases your sweet heart.”

“That could be a very long time,” Daisy answered. “Is it okay for me to come back in? Will Mum be upset?”

Alfie took a pause.

“I don’t think so,” he decided. “And if she does get upset, it won’t last. The rotation of faces will do me good, yeah? That nurse sometimes makes me feel more ill by her presence alone, she’s got a particularly sour smell to match her face. The sooner I’m out of this room, the better I’ll be, I think. The sea air’ll do me some good, don’t you think?”

Daisy nodded again, vigorously. If Alfie thought the sea and the wisping salt against his face would help him be less a ghost and more a man, she would believe it too.

“We can go walking together,” Daisy suggested. “In the afternoons when I come home from school. And all day on weekends. Mum said she’d buy me a swimming costume for the summer, maybe we could swim—”

Alfie interrupted with his distinctive laugh, a near giggle unexpected from such a large man. The first time Daisy had heard it she had been taken aback, only to laugh along. Hearing it now was like a balm slathered on a skinned knee.

“We’ll start with a short walk, sweetie, then think about swimming in the next distant summer when these limbs can carry this old man easier. If I try to swim now, right, I might be swept away into the sea and some fantastical creature may happen upon me and drag me to its home in the depths. You believe in mermaids, love?”

“No.” Daisy sat back in the chair. “Not anymore.”

“Pity,” Alfie answered. “I saw one once at a carnival; pretty thing with a tail blowing bubbles under the water. If anything were to drag me out to sea, I’d choose her.”

“Stay on land, then!”

Alfie looked at her, quieted by her outburst. Daisy hadn’t meant for the words to leave her mouth so loudly. But all the talk of leaving once more sent her deep into a place of fear.

“I don’t want you to leave again,” Daisy tried once more in a softer voice. “I don’t want you to even try.”

“Then I won’t,” Alfie replied simply. “I’ll ignore all those siren calls I hear from the beach and stay right here, on your orders. You’re the boss, then.”

“Mum said she’s the boss now.” She shifted in her seat, wondered how cold the tea sitting on Alfie’s lap had gone. “Her and Ollie, she says.”

“Right then, you’ll just have to be my boss, won’t you?” Alfie shut his eyes. Daisy inspected his face, riddled with red scars and the patches of scaly rashes around his scalp he had explained as an affliction called psoriasis when she questioned it. He opened his good eye, giving her a quick smile. “Keep me in line and give me my orders to follow. First order is no following mermaids, got that love, what else should I heed from you?”

Daisy had never had that kind of power before, giving orders to an adult. The men at the bakery heeded her silly requests before, yes, but Alfie had always been the one to bark orders. As a child on the cusp of thirteen, it was an immense responsibility. She racked her brain, lips pursed as she ignored Alfie’s amused face, before settling on one.

“Get well fast,” Daisy finally said. “And don’t make Mum cross again, I’ll know if you do.”

“A tall order, that last one, but I’ll do my best,” Alfie grunted, tapping her hand before saluting her. “Yes ma’am.”

#alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons #peaky blinder fanfic #i love soft alfie fics ok bye

[enigma-im]

A Kiss To Build a Dream On

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Monster Boss x F!Worker Warnings: Blood mention, Violence, fluff, confusion of intention, gang boss, ladies go crazy for a sharp dressed man, cursing, sex, teleporting to avoid explaining

word Count: 7885

Tender isn’t a word anyone would use to describe the boss, but for her he can’t be anything but.

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

I roughly slam the door, grumbling to myself as I stomp towards the backrooms of the office. My fists stay firmly clenched at my sides as fire burns from within my chest. The bruises ache along my face, my cheek and eye throbbing with every beat of my heart. I shoulder check workers at I storm to my bunk at the end of the hall, not even bothering to deal with anyone's teasing today.

The door is in sight, the sweet relief of solitude isn’t enough to stifle the anger. Knowing I'm going in there to lick my wounds like some child or weakling. When I reach the peaceful silence of my own room I begin angrily wrestling off my clothes, tossing the lightly blood-splattered garments to the corner. Grabbing some clothes off the floor I march into the bathroom. Throwing on some baggy pants and a tank top, I look in the mirror.

For the first time this day, my anger steps aside. The sight of my swelling eye and split cheek is shocking. I've been hit before, it's not really new, but it's never been so startling. My cheek wound has bled enough to dribble down to my collar. The line of blood ends where my shirt was, no doubt the clothing is sporting a lovely red spot. I guess that's what happens when someone plays cheap with a jewelry covered punch. The rage boils once more till I spit in the sink.

I can't bring myself to look any longer. Rushing out into the main room I grumble once more. A tantrum in the making, I throw my fists around, I bare my teeth towards the floor, I kick at anything decorating the ground. Clothes get pushed around the room, thunking against the wall. A suitcase gets launched under the bed and a wall is hit for good measures.

As I seethe to myself I catch movement out the corner of my eye. I go stalk still, turning slowly to the poor soul who decided it would be a good time to check-in. A well dress man is inspecting a wrecked shirt, the same shirt I wore minutes before. He admires the bloodstain near the neckline, thumbing the spot with a lax face.

"Sir," I play my best pleasant voice," now is not a good time." it all comes out terse and strained but it's the best I can do. Boss hums, still looking at my shirt. It takes a few seconds before he bothers looking my way. His dark complexation almost shadows the flex of his brow when he catches sight of my beaten self. His quickly flexing jaw is just barely noticeable in the darkness of the corner.

"So it would seem," he answers smoothly. He tosses the shirt to the side without care, adjusting his hat before he steps further into the room. His intrusion is unwelcome, to say the least, and him stepping closer boils my blood even more.

"Sir," I growl," It's really not a good time." typical boss continues to ignore me, succeeding like he always does when we talk in making me grind my teeth to dust. He hums in answer again, walking till he is a few feet in front of me. His hands are clasped behind his back, his brow low as he regards me.

"I will ask this once," he starts," what happened?"

I sneer, immediately answering," Nothing, everything is fine." he responds with a tilt of his head, watching me with an almost amused look. We stare each other down, stubbornness helping me with this battle. The boss has a tendency in sticking his nose in other people's business. Which is fine for everyone else, a good trait to have a boss who takes care of his people, but it’s not fine for me. I don't want his constant attention, sticking around to rub my nose in it. He never has to say anything, his judging look is enough to knock me down a peg.

As I stew in my thoughts he reaches out and grabs my jaw. His fingers dig into my skin, demanding absolute cooperation. I know better than to move, stiffening as I fight the urge to jerk away from his scrutiny. He leans down close, looking over the cuts, tilting my head this way and that.

"Rings or knuckles," he asks casually.

My jaw pops," Rings."

He hums," Howley boys or street wolves?"

I scoff," pixie chicks." he nods, dropping my jaw in favor of using his phone. The device appears in a blink, acting like it was always there. He clicks away at the phone lazily for a short moment before poofing it away as quickly as it appeared. Without a word, he grabs my shoulder and walks me into the bathroom. Too curious, I let him guide me to sit on the toilet. I sit and watch him work near the sink, opening the medicine cabinet.

"What are you doing," I ask, tilting forward to get a better look. Before I can get a look around the mirror he shuts it.

"You have no bandages," he scoffs. The tone sounds scolding like I'm some child being talked down by a parent. I quickly catch on to what's happening, I don't much care for it.

I stand," no, get out. I'd like to be alone now to tend to my ego and I don't need you here to yell about how dumb I am." before I could walk around him towards the beds he grabs me once more and twists me back to the bathroom.

"No, sit," he shoves me towards the toilet," I am tending to you now." my anger rolls in again like the second coming of a storm. I don't need his pity or favor, I can take care of myself.

"What does it matter? It's not like you care," I pout, stewing in rumbling fury. I don't bother to stand again, knowing his great power that rivals many. He is a supervillain in his own right, a blight on society but a hero to some. I can't see him as a bad person but I know the lengths he has gone to to be where he is. You gotta crack a few eggs, you know?

I don't notice him staring down at me, too busy glaring at the wall to notice. It's not till he grabs my jaw again do I bother to pay him any mind. When our eyes meet I am startled by his depth. His face demands attention at this moment, locking me in his stare. My feelings dissipate till only alarm is left. Reprimand feels like my likely outcome. No one talks to the boss this way. He is known for his kindness as well as his ire and ire is the side I'm most likely to meet.

The boss watches me, his eyes darting between my own as his jaw clicks. I can't lie and say I'm not worried at this moment, because I am. You never know what little things will set someone off, just like I don't know what level of pain I will be receiving. Perhaps a good talking to about respect, he likes to go on and on about that. Maybe an addition to my weekly chores, that's a fair punishment. I can't think straight with his breath ghosting over my face.

It's when I'm at my wit's end does he move, pulling my face towards his. He gently presses his lips to mine, closing his eyes as he does. I stare blankly at him, stock still under his soft lips. He doesn't pry for more, leaning back shortly after in favor of looking at me. I still look straight, startled by the outcome I could have never expected. He chuckles, smiling as he shakes his head. At the cute sound, I look to him, trying my best to gauge the situation better.

"wha-," he shuts my mouth before I can ask.

"You are to remain silent while I tend to you," he states firmly. I simply nod, still too shocked to really have the energy to do anything but listen. He watches me a moment more before standing and fiddling with the sink.

The boss does as he says, tending to my wounds like a close friend. He is delicate in his touches, warning me before any intentional pain. It's weird, no other way to say it. I have no idea what's happening besides the obvious. He is cleaning up my busted face, but I don't know why.

Once he is satisfied with his chore he straightens up and walks me out of the bathroom. I stop in the middle of the room, looking up to him for guidance. He quirks a brow, just barely smiling to himself.

"If I knew a silly little kiss would stifle your anger I would have done it sooner," he chuckles. I fluster at the comment, looking away for the first time since the kiss. As I chew on my cheek, trying to sort through the tangle of thoughts and feelings, he turns me towards him. His hold is sweet, gentle, unlike before. He pets at my cheek, lightly grazing the cut with his thumb. Before I can react he is gone.

I stare dumbfounded into the room, confused above anything else. I try to sort through the event, trying to find the angle he is working. So many things go through my head till absolutely nothing makes sense.

Though one thing is for sure. This warm feeling in my chest won't go away.

The boss doesn't act differently when I see him around the facility. He is his prim and proper self, still bullying the underlings into working to their best and intimidating visitors. Though its been mere days, I feel like more is to be expected. With every passing minute, hour, day, I expect something to happen. As time goes on the feeling grows till every sighting of him makes me tense with expectation. Was this his plan? To make me tense at every turn till I'm forced to confront him less I go crazy? Or was it to keep me on my toes, perhaps I've been too lax around here and he knows the best way to keep me stressed.

Either way, it's working.

I work the cameras one night, lounging in an old rickety chair as I watch the cameras around the building. This chore is the simplest but the most tedious. No one wants watcher duty, it's an all-night endeavor. Nothing happens and god forbid you get caught slacking off when higher-ups walk by. The punishments are easily dished out around here. So staying alert and awake is for the best.

As the night goes on I can feel myself falling off, drifting in and out of rest. It gets so bad that I fall asleep dreaming I'm still working. I try to pinch myself awake, walk around a bit, but nothing works. I damn near fall off my seat when a loud clinking noise wakes me. As I startle the seat tries to roll too far back but is stopped by a sturdy hand. I snap my head up and around, disoriented above anything else. Looking to my right my eyes immediately meet all too familiar ones.

"I wasn't sleeping," I quickly shout at the boss," I was watching the cameras." I stare wide-eyed at him, hearting pumping quickly from the startling wake-up.

The boss snorts," I'm sure you were."

"yes, I was," I clear my throat," what are you doing down here?" he watches me a moment longer, his arm still clasping the back of my chair. With an amused huff, he grabs something off the table, hiding it in his fist. He holds it over my lap, waiting on me. I reach out, curious, palm awaiting.

"a gift," he answers as he drops shiny pieces into my hand. Three rings lay in my palm, all gold with obnoxiously large gems in the middle. I look at them confused, lifting one to investigate.

"what are," I look up towards the boss, the words dying off my lip. He is gone. Looking around the room for another second before I look down at the rings. The single one I'm holding looks well worn, some of the metal corroding away. The gem is annoyingly bright green with dirty specks. On closer look, I can see dried blood in the corners and grooves. The ring actually looks familiar, looking at it makes my cheek ache.

What is the boss doing with the pixie chick's ring?

I want to corner him, question his intentions with bringing the 'gifts'. It's unheard of for the boss to take souvenirs, he isn't a bragging kind of man. It's also strange for him to bring them to someone as a present. The message is clear, he hurt them for me. A man like him doesn't just give out something like this without earning it to begin with. He got those rings not with theft but other illegal means. I understand that much, what I don't get is why.

I try to hunt him down but he is always around the corner before I can get to him. Each time I swear I can see a little smile, teasing me with this weird little game of chase. Every night I go to bed without answers is like losing a battle I never wanted to have.

It's one night that the unanswered questions pick at me till my last strand of patience is frayed. I storm out of bed, throwing on a hoodie before I enter the public spaces of the compound. This late I have a guess where the boss is residing, well two guesses.

I try his quarters first, knocking first as I don't have a death wish. With no answer, I don't try to push my luck and head to his office. When I round the private hallway I see the light on, coming out from under the farthest door. I pull some last-second courage and storm down. I grab the handle and with a last confident breath, I open.

The scene before me freezes as all details sort in my brain. Two people in the room, one is obvious, the boss. The other is a worn man, bruised and beaten in a chair. I can't look away from the man as a strange fog covers his neck. A nasty gash in the center of the fog's attention, seeming to pour into the wound. The gash looks to be pulled in every direction, blood drenching the man's shirt. I know if his mouth wasn't gagged he would be screaming loud enough for the entire building to hear.

"What do you need," The boss steals my attention. I look from the tied-up man to the annoyance of the week. He doesn't look angry like I would assume, having heard horrid tales of others falling into this same mistake. I don't trust the casualness of him cleaning his hands with a dirty towel.

"Sorry, sir," I bow my head," I will meet with you when you aren't entertaining company." I offer the joke in hopes of lessening the ire he may release later. The boss snorts with a smile, shaking his head as he tosses the towel aside. Not waiting for an answer I slide back into the hall, closing the door quietly behind me.

Well, that went well enough.

In the morning I force myself to submit to this strangeness that has corrupted the boss and I's interactions. I've known of the man since I was in my mid-teens, I've worked for him since my early 20s. There is no way I truly know how the man acts in his day to day life. I know he is an ornery kind of man, though a little mischievous, and that’s the most I know of him. Perhaps this is normal. It's best not to harp on these things that are out of my control.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to ignore his presence in any room I enter. The cat and mouse game seems to have switched with me running from him. I feel like a coward, though it is a reasonable choice to just drop it. I never run from anyone, least of all some cocky villain type.

I go about my nightly routine in the bathroom, spitting into the sink before suckling water from my palm. Walking into the main room I pause looking at the well-dressed man in my room.

"Evening, sir," I say confused. At my introduction, he turns, keeping his arms clasped behind his back. He regards me with a small smirk, mostly keeping his feelings to himself.

"You wished to speak with me," he shrugs," here I am."

I nod," yea, it's not too important now, I sorted it out myself." it’s a lie, I have nothing figured out. His instances of manipulation have named him as conniving. I don't want to be the centerpiece in such affairs.

"hm," he clicks his tongue," shame. Leaving me so curious now, how could I depart with such a tempting question resting on the edge of my mind." his smirk forms into a Cheshire grin that brings thoughts into focus. It seems I've already captured his attention, perhaps have had it all along.

"No, no, it's not anything you would need to bother with," I try to wave him off. He doesn't budge, instead, taking a few steps closer. I step equally back. He huffs in amusement, pushing onward till I'm forced to stop against a bed. He crowds me, yet keeping a platonic distance.

"I'm insulted you assume that any of your worries would be below my standings, I wish to make your life easier whenever I can," he purrs, breaking the platonic distance," Did you like your gift?" my body tenses in alarm, feelings waring as I try to remain passive.

"T-the rings," I ask.

He nods," I don't think the Pixie Chicks will be missing them, they offered them so freely." I wish to scoff at him, nearly amused at his suggestion that they would offer him anything such as their jewelry.

"They didn't seem willing to part with them before," I somehow manage to tease back. His smile grows, tilting his head as he regards me.

"Not at first," he leans toward my cheek," but after a short visit they were more than willing."

I get fuzzy the closer he gets, feeling his hot breath brush over my face. It's hard to decide the right course of action. Push him away and deal with whatever reaction he deems appropriate, or let him be and see where this is going. The second choice is hard, his nearness muddles my ideas and actions. How could I be swayed by some man nearing my personal space? His kiss beforehand was quick and unintimidating, there was no build-up. Now it feels like an anvil swaying precariously on a snapping rope.

"Why are you here," I find myself asking. I fight the urge to raise my hand to his chest and push him away, not truly knowing if I would push him away. He leans in closer, crowding me nearly on the bed. I fall back onto a hand, holding myself propped up less I wish to lay on the sheets. His grin stretches wider.

"Well, you asked for me," he answers in a deep rumble. The change in tone is startling, fogging my brain more. It's hard to think, nothing is connecting in my brain. I want to push him, but I can't. I want to crawl away, but I can't. I want to pull him closer, but…

"I mean," I swallow," what are you doing in my room?"

"because you feel safest here," he answers.

"Why should it matter if I feel safe," I watch him. He straightens slightly, looking down at me with a lax stare.

"You ask too many questions," he mumbles before pushing forward and kissing me. I gasp, falling back onto both hands. The kiss breaks for just a moment before he is falling onto his hands, framing me as he crowds me on the bed. I'm not sure what to do now, having little to no experience in this. I'm not flirty or sexy, I can't bother with things such as making out or relationships. Though now I wish I knew just a little bit.

The boss grabs me by the hips and shifts me up the bed, crawling over me as I fall to my back. He straddles a thigh, his hands coming up to frame my head. I watch him stare down at me, his mouth lightly parts with a dazed look. Before I can bother with words he takes my lips for his once more. It's surprisingly passionate, to that I'm stunned. I expected demanding from a man like him, not affectionate. I timidly return the kiss, not knowing what to do but knowing I want to do it. Before I can get into it he lifts away, though not far.

He watches me a moment, gauging my reaction. His eyes are squinted, seeming to wait for a response, a response I don't provide. I look up at him, nearly panting in this strange rush of emotions and touch.

"What are you feeling," he asks skeptically.

I lick my lips," flustered." he hums, still trying to piece together something.

"flustered is good," he nods to himself, falling back to my mouth. I startle once more, still utterly confused at the turn of the night. Yet, I can't make myself stop it. I reach up and fist his tailored jacket, not knowing if I should tug him closer. The need to touch him is strong but the anxiety of everything else lingers.

The boss stuns me more as he grabs my hand holding his clothes and slings it around his shoulder. Quickly I take hold of the shirt from this angle, indirectly pulling him closer. My other hand shyly joins the first, cupping the back of his head in a timid touch.

"Doing good," he purrs, licking at my lips as he slowly settles himself on his forearms. He expertly parts my lips, telling me to let him in. I open, clenching a fistful of hair when he invades my mouth. When I tug on the bit of hair he moans, the sound felt in my mouth, felt on my tongue. The already eager kiss ramps in excitement when his hands start to trail down my body. He simply slides his hands under my shirt, holding my waist with a warm grip. His thumbs pet at my skin but stay otherwise still.

The moment seems to stretch on for hours, my discretions melting away into heart fluttering enjoyment. He doesn't push, keeping the mood just semi-erotic. I appreciate it though I'm utterly confused. What does he think he can gain from this? Surely a man like him doesn't just kiss random staff members without having some secret motive. I'm just a grunt, nothing more and nothing less. I surely hope he doesn't think he could manipulate me into sleeping with him. No, that won't do at all.

"Sir," I mumble against his lips as I try to pull away. He trails after my mouth, only pausing mid-action.

"yes," he asks. I shift back away from him, getting a better look at his closed eyes and wet parted lips.

"We should stop," I fluster. I drop my arms from around him, using them to push myself up and away. He squints his eyes open enough to watch me lounge against the wall, feet still partially under him. Looking between my eyes he sighs, dropping his head shortly after.

"Alright," he huffs," It is late, I will be on my way now." he shifts back onto his knees, rubbing at his face before righting his hat and clothes. Next, he stands up off the bed and passes me a final glance, ready to blink away.

"wait," I surprise myself by saying," can you answer one question?"

He tilts his head," besides that question?"

"yes," I deadpan," besides that one."

He smirks, clasping his hands behind his back," alright, I think I can allow one more question." I want to snort, amused but annoyed by his words. I keep quiet.

"are you," I start, worried to continue," are you going to use me?" I look at every twitch of his face with an eagle-like focus. Every nuance is jotted down as I watch him. He simply smiles, his face projecting amused affection. He then steps forward, leaning over the bed to cup my face.

"No," he answers shortly. He strokes my cheek with his thumb, watching himself do so. With a final sigh, he blinks away, no evidence of him ever being here besides my wet lips and fluttering heart.

"damn," I fall to my side," there goes my night."

The next couple of days are a whirlwind of strange. The game of chase is completely let go in favor of a game of chicken. His attentions have gone from nothing to constant. When we are ever around each other -which is way more common as of late- he attempts to touch me in some way. Though his posture and face stay casual, if not bored, he still cups my hips and trails his fingers over my spine like he is anything but bored.

Some nights he pays a visit, kissing me senseless till he decides I'm thoroughly flustered. He tries to edge me on, even taking to teasing to further some agenda I can't even bother to figure out. Though he said he wouldn't use me I feel like a toy. He comes to me with minimal conversation and shoves his tongue down my throat. The small conversations are filled with double meanings and unsaid words. He is hinting to something and I can't figure out what. I feel like a source of entertainment, picked at till he gains whatever he needed. The stress is getting to me, I've had enough.

I wait patiently in my room, leg bouncing against the bed as I cross my arms. I'm going to confront him tonight, I'm going to get some answers. This little game has to stop less I want my heart to fall victim to some scheming. Time draws on and on till its far pass the time he visits. I reluctantly settle into bed, dread, and stress muddling my brain.

The next night I wait patiently again, knowing he doesn't go for two nights in a row. I wait and wait, looking to the clock more than necessary. It’s when its well past midnight that I call it a night. Dread and stress fade out as worry takes its place.

The day after I set out to catch sight of the boss. I search high and low, keeping to the commons places in hopes of a casual encounter. I see no hide or hair of him. As I march around the facility, doing chores, that I hear about everyone avoiding the boss. It seems the man in charge has had a bit of a temper since this morning, shutting out everyone as he sits in his office.

The idea of visiting his office is appealing, knowing it to be the best time to get answers if he is mad. Anger brings out the truth. Surely I can go visit him and ask a question or two, not risking my life in the process. Though I think lowly of his intention I think he truly has no intention of maiming me.

With that decided I casually head upstairs towards his office. I make it to the familiar hallway, feeling the instinctual dread of being there. No one wants to be in this hallway, knowing who is working just at the end. Though I come here from my own free volition it's still a habit to fear this part of the building.

I walk to the door at the end, already hearing voices halfway down. As I get closer I can hear yelling. I listen intently, hearing stomping footsteps and a thing or two being knocked over. It’s when I hear a loud thud do I pick up the pace. I stop near the door, anxiety drenching my body as curiosity keeps me up. The sound of meaty thumps can be heard before a whimper.

"You are a piece of shit," a quick thunk follows," scum of the fucking earth, and that's something coming from me." I can hear the boss talking- more like yelling- behind the door. It sounds like he is entertaining again.

"boss," someone answers weakly," I'm sorry." a deep clink comes shortly after the man's words.

"Sorry doesn't earn my trust back," the boss snarls," Sorry doesn't fucking get Bradshaw off my fucking back!" the meaty claps come shortly after, repeating in alarming frequency. I step to the door, my body repealing against the idea of opening it and interrupting the important meeting.

I know who the boss is, always have. He does some shady stuff with some shady people, I being one of them. I get what's going on in there, a lesson is being learned. It's something that is understood by all who work here, don't cross the boss. Though it seems the poor idiot in there hasn't learned that though.

I don’t hear anything for a good while. It's to be assumed that business has been taken care of. Either way, I stay put, leaning closer to the door when I hear another softer voice. I try to make out some words, being more nosy this moment than I have my entire life. The softer voice only speaks for a brief moment, followed by the Boss with another set of short words.

As I focus on the door I don't hear steps walking up behind me. Only when someone grabs my shoulders do I jump. I jerk in this person's hold, stiffening as their fingers dig into my skin. I twist to look over at them, seeing a large man with a gruff-looking face. He offers no words, instead, reaching in front of me to grab the door handle.

The gruff man guides me into the room, holding firmly onto my shoulders. I look to the room, immediately finding a man collapsed on the floor covered in swelling bruises and deep cuts. He is mostly unrecognizable, his face beaten to a pulp. If I am to assume correctly, then he is dead.

"Clean this up before he stains the floor," the boss grunts as he wipes his hands with a dirty rag.

The gruff man behind me speaks," and what would you like me to do with her?" as he asks the boss snaps around, meeting my eyes quickly. He looks to me confused, twisting completely around as he drops the rag to the table.

"I'd like you to fucking let her go," the boss growls to the man," I am the only one allowed to deal with her." the clear hostility means nothing to the man behind me. He lets go and casually shuffles to the man on the floor, hefting him over his shoulders with ease. I watch the boss look to the two, following them with his eyes till the door shuts behind me. Once the door clicks does he look to me once again.

"Hello, doll," his ire drops to the familiar ease he adopts when around me. He leans back against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. His barely buttoned shirt wrinkles, his cuffed sleeves looking strange so far up his arms. I've never seen him so underdressed, though most would still consider his outfit formal.

"Hello," I answer guarded. I don't expect a warm welcome like this when I've been caught snooping.

"What brings you to my humble abode," he tilts his head with a small smile. It's strange to see such a night and day to his previous anger. He was screaming and beating a man into the floor. Now he is his typical charming self in a matter of seconds. I don't buy it.

"I haven't seen you in a couple days," I say, crossing my arms in the process. He gives me a once over, his smile peeling further over his cheeks.

"Miss me or something," he teases.

I scoff," or something." he chuckles, walking away from his desk to walk the room.

"Or something," he looks at the messy floor," what would that something be?" I follow him with my eyes as he skirts around me, keeping a distance. I don't bother turning around when he walks behind my back, taking the second to compose my thoughts and feelings. As of late, he has been popular in making my heart flutter like a caged bird.

"You haven't been around," I shrug," I was curious." he scoffs, seeming to understand my roundabout way of saying I've missed him. Which I guess is true, but I'd argue I want answers more than his company. Though both wouldn't be too bad.

He comes into my peripheral," I've been busy, I hope I haven't left you in need of anything in my absents."

"no," I turn away blushing," I haven't been…in need or anything. Just conflicted on some things." he hums, staying just in the corner of my eye. I can feel his eyes wandering over my body, trying to pick at every tick and twitch.

"would your confliction be related to the question you asked me the other night," he asks. I almost turn to him then, wanting to see his face, needing to see his reaction. I don't though, staring at his desk straight ahead.

"Perhaps," I answer. He huffs, his steps coming closer till I feel his heat against my back.

"do you think lowly of me," he says near my ear," do you believe I am truly a villain incapable of pure intent?"

"sometimes," I nearly whisper. I feel his sigh fan over my back. He steps closer, his front nearly touching me.

"Do you truly believe I would betray you," he asks. The question startles me, only for the reason that there is blood staining the floor beside us. "Would you betray me," he whispers against my ear. The threat feels looming as I look to the crime scene. Would I betray him if given the chance, the answer feels almost obvious.

"I don't," I huff," I don't think I could if I tried."

The boss hums approvingly, circling his arms around my hips to pull me flush to his front. His chin rests upon my shoulder, his head leaning against mine. The smell of his cologne is nearly suffocating in its intoxication. I awkwardly grab his arms, resting my hands on him.

"I don't think I could betray you if I tried," he answers similarly," you seem to have grown on me." I squeeze at his arm.

"Honestly," I ask skeptically," you truly mean me no harm, emotional or otherwise?" though he has answered this it still doesn't sit in my head, proof being demanded after every answer.

He turns and presses a shallow kiss to my neck," I could never hurt you, doll, I only wish to adore you." I turn to him, wishing above all else to believe him. He leans ever so close, his tempting kiss just in my reach.

"Prove it," I bait.

"gladly," he answers.

Quickly he has my lips captured, demanding more than ever before. His tongue takes no time delving into my mouth, circling my tongue in a sweet caress. I would have fallen if it weren't for his strong hold on my hips, instead, I keep myself propped up by him. When minimal thought comes back do I twist in his hold and tug him closer by his collar. I need his affection, crave it above all else. Thrusting my tongue into his mouth I take back some control I've lacked in these few days. He startles this time, groaning with a chuckle as I fist his hair.

"doll," he laughs into the kiss," I thought I was proving my affections here."

"then catch up," I tease, taking his mouth for mine once more. He growls, a sound I haven't really heard from him before, and lifts me. I yelp, holding tightly to his shoulders as my pelvis meets his lower stomach. His smile spread across his face as he squeezes my thighs.

"Sorry, doll, but I'm the boss here," he nips at my lips, lapping at them shortly after. His normally sweet kisses are oh so more divine now as fire is brought into the mix. My insides nearly throb with a need I've rarely ever felt before. I want him- oh god do I want him.

As we attack each other I hear a quick whoosh by my ears, my hair quickly flicking in the wind. I open my eyes enough to see out the corners that we aren't in the same room. I dislodge from him, looking around the bedroom we have teleported to.

"your room," I ask, having never been here before.

"Yes," he watches me," Is that a problem?"

I look to him with a cheeky smile," no." I continue where we left off, suckling his tongue. He walks us somewhere, the destination not particularly important in my mind. What feels more important is the insistent throbbing in my crotch. I find myself bucking into him, grinding myself into his firm stomach.

The boss rips his mouth from mine as I fall backward. I clench at his shirt, gasping when something springy shapes to my back. I drop my hands back, feeling soft sheets below me. I look up to him, quirking a brow. He shrugs, falling over me in a familiar position. Though this time he angles himself in a way I can finally feel his hardon poking me. I groan at the feeling, wanting to grab him right now.

Everything seemingly melds together, one moment I'm in his office, and next, I'm in his room. One second I have a shirt on and next, I'm laying in only my underwear. Him being left in only his hat and pants. The boss admires me for a second, the rush of erotic sensations nearly paused. His look is fierce, fire pouring from his gaze, but it still has room for affection and true admiration.

"so damn beautiful," he pets at my chest. He fondles my boob, thumbing my nipple with an all too excited gleam in his eye. "I could wreck you so easily," he ponders aloud. I reach up to his bare chest, running my fingers from his sternum down to his pants.

"I thought you wanted to adore me," I smirk, tugging him closer by his belt. He falls to his hands, cradling my head in his arms.

"Doll, I want to do everything to you," he purrs, attacking my neck with love bites. I hum, slowly flicking off his belt and reaching into his pants. He stiffens, grunting as I grab him.

"big words from a big man," I tease, stroking his cock.

He shutters," you don't know big yet, doll. Now be a good girl and let your boss go."

I let him go, slowly sliding my hand out of his pants," yes, sir."

The boss lets out a shaky breath, dropping his head to my shoulder for a moment. My nails glide over his stomach towards his chest and back down. I allow him a second, though that's all he needs.

He sits up, pushing off his pants but keeping his boxers. I admire the tent, feeling oh so powerful at the moment. I did that, I am the one who turned him on. That thought alone makes me feel ten feet tall.

I hardly notice when his hand trails up my thigh till he hooks a finger over my underwear. He tugs them down, grinning to himself as my mound is revealed. He tosses the clothing away without a care, quickly reaching out to thumb at my lips. The subtle soft feeling of his touch is nearly enough to make me groan in anticipation. I want him to touch me, I need him to touch me. He does as I silently plead, sliding a finger between my folds. He swipes up toward my clit, massaging so smoothly.

"So wet," he purrs," so wet for me." I don't bother with words as he delves his fingers lower, poking at my entrance with great amusement. I engulf his fingers as he pushes them in, slowly pumping them in and out with a curled retreat. My legs spread further apart on their own as I relish in the lazy strokes.

"Sir," I sigh. He looks up to me, his gaze is all too alluring. My teeth grind as I fight back the urge to buck towards him. God, I need him. His head tilts so slightly as he sighs, his fingers retreat shortly after. He crawls back above me, cleaning off his fingers with his tongue as he does.

"Why must you pull me in so easily," he asks as he discards his last remaining clothing," I want nothing more than to feast upon you but your hungry looks demand more." I reach up and cup his face then adjusting his hat that he kept upon his head. His cock pokes at my crotch, gently sliding at my lips as he lightly jerks his hips.

I pap his cheek," get over it, I've been hungry all week because of you."

He scoffs," all you had to do was ask."

"like I could get the chance to with your tongue down my throat at every turn," I answer. He laughs, looking down between us to grab at himself.

"I think you could have found a way to ask if you truly wanted to," he answers absently as he pushes his tip forward. I suck in a choked breath, tense against the sudden entry. The stretch of just his tip is already fulfilling to someone so starved this past month. He bucks shallowly forward, inching himself in slowly. He soon hilts, looking back up at me with a relieved face.

"I couldn't ask when I didn't know the true intentions," I mumble as my attention is solely drawn to his filling cock. My leg hikes over his hip, pulling him closer. He drops a hand to that thigh, bouncing his hips in slow short drives.

"Well," he kisses at my cheek," do you know my intention now?" I turn to him, meeting his eyes in such a vulnerable moment. Everything I feel is lain bare, the tenderness I feel towards him shining brightly. I cup his cheek, his short bucks ceasing.

"That really depends on after," I nearly whisper. He doesn't answer, instead, pressing a deep kiss to my lips. As he claims me his hips drawback before snapping forward in a breathtaking thrust. He starts a demanding pace, taking and giving in equal parts. His cock hits deep, stoking a fire that I felt was already an inferno. I fall away from his lips, whimpering against him as he plows into me. Our hips clap as the bed squeaks. I now know what it feels like to be on the other side of the wall, not to hear but to be part of the ruckus.

The boss forces pleasure from me with every buck of his hips. I whimper and grind into him, not being able to stay still as my insides crescendo. I barely notice how silent he is, me making enough noise for the both of us. He watches me steadily fall apart, in complete rapture at my noises. A hand sneaks between us, running through my curls before resting upon my engorged clit. I seethe at the gentle prod, crying out as he starts small circles. As I shout for him does he make a sound, a gentle gasp as his lips part.

I feel burned, hot, and demanding at this moment. My insides flutter with its oncoming orgasm. I yell and scream, reaching out to pull him closer as I have no better idea. I suddenly sit on the cusp of true pleasure, my body stiffening as just a breeze could push me over. I reach for him, pulling him in for a wet kiss. He allows it, briefly, pulling away as I fall.

The boss watches me, his face contorting in near pain. His hips stutter as my insides clench him tightly. I can barely keep focus enough to watch him as I arch and writhe below. My screams stutter out till I'm left silent, panting as he continues my orgasm with his unstoppable thrusts.

"Please," I beg. Begging for him to stop, begging for him to keep going. I somehow keep focus enough to watch him, watch him sigh and grunt till his hips slap to mine with one final buck. He drops his head to my shoulder, panting against my ear as he rolls his hips. I can feel his heat, feel his cum paint my insides. I am unable to do anything but hug him close and catch my breath

It takes longer than I thought possible to come back to myself. I'm still left panting under him, only able to listen to his own ragged breathing. I pet at his sweaty back, running the ends of my nails over his shoulder. We just hold one another, lost in the bliss.

"you steal my heart, doll," he mumbles in my hair," how could I ever part from you when you sing so beautifully for me?" I chuckle, not being able to form words just yet. The boss turns us on our sides, cradling me to his chest so tenderly. He pets at my hair, burying his nose against my temple. "I fear I have stronger feelings than first intended," he whispers," I will not leave you for more than a second at a time, my heart couldn't take more than that."

"do you always get this poetic after sex," I ask. He scoffs, reaching down to grab my thigh. He pulls my leg over his hip once more, petting up towards my ass. He gives me a quick slap, jiggling my rear as he does. I yelp, squeezing him when I do. He grunts, baring his teeth. He chuckles shortly after

"only for you, love," he answers," only for you."

I sigh, sliding my hand between us to pet at his chest. I want to give those words back, as I mean them just as truly as he does. The words sit on the end of my tongue, ready to be broadcasted to the world. It takes me a moment to gain courage, still resting securely in his arms.

"I love you," I barely get out. He holds me closer, nuzzling my head.

"I love you, too," he answers in kind. I try to fight off the smile spreading across my face but it's damn near impossible. I smile to myself and close my eyes.

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

my intention never go as planned. i was struggling to write and i saw a cute post on villain with a soft spot for his lover. so i write a small tid bit, the part where he tends to her wounds. IT WASN’T SUPPOSE TO BE 7K WORDS! like how? i stayed up till 2am writing this. i’m just a sap, through and through.

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#monster boyfriend #gangster boss #mob boss #the boss #exophilia #fluff #Enigma-IM #a kiss to build a dream on #armstrong

[niksixx]

Patience

~Welcome to Part 1 of yet another Axl Rose mini series. Since this is merely fanfiction, there will obviously be inaccuracies and things I changed around just because I can hehe. I hope you enjoy! This particular piece was inspired by the GNR song, Patience~

Pairing: Axl Rose/Vince Neil x Female Reader 

A/N: R E B L O G AND C O M M E N T 

*Picture is not mine; Found on Google. Creds to the owner*

P.S. I have a strong feeling this fic is going to tug on your heart strings. 

Tag list: @littlemisscare-all @ginny-baker-sixx @metalheartofgold @madamsixx @curly-hudson

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As a little girl, you were drawn to the little boy who sat on the playground bench alone, head down, hair shielding his eyes, hiding from the world around him. Each day, he was there. Each day, he had fresh tears in his eyes. And each day, he silently prayed for a friend.

The little boy’s prayers were answered the day you skipped over to him, placing yourself in front of him, rocking back and forth on the balls and heels of your feet as your yellow tutu swayed with the soft breeze. You waited for the boy to look up at you and when he did, you smiled, wanting to comfort him.

“Hi there! I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

His voice was soft, hesitant, like a scared mouse. “Axl.”

“Axl. That’s nice. I like it!” You exclaimed, taking a seat beside him on the bench. Little Axl slid over to give you room, keeping his eyes on the ground. What is she doing? He wondered.

“How old are you?”

“Eight,” Axl said gently, holding up four digits on one hand, four digits on the other. “How old are you?”

“I’m ten!” You answered proudly, swinging your legs. Axl still hadn’t looked up from the ground. “Can I ask you a question?”

Axl nodded, lifting his head just a bit to brush the hair from his eyes. His eyelashes were long and thick, and tiny red freckles dotted the bridge of his nose, down his plump cheeks. “If you want.”

“How come you’re all alone?”

His eyes flickered to the three older boys on the swingset, two blond twins and a brunette friend. They were known for bullying other children off the playground. All Axl wanted to do was play with them. Be friends with them. Why did they have to be so mean? “Those boys,” he points in their direction with a shaky finger, “They were teasing me. I just wanted to be their friend.”

You followed his finger, frowning as the three boys laughed obnoxiously. You recognized them. They looked around your age. “What were they teasing you about?”

Axl shrugged, picking at his fingernails. Why were you so curious? He wasn’t used to anyone caring about him. “They made fun of my hair, my clothes, my teeth. They said I was ugly and that no one would want to be friends with me. And then they pushed me. That’s how I scraped my elbow,” He says, showing off his battle wound proudly. He hadn’t even cried today when they shoved him down.

Standing up, you placed your little hands on your hips, eyebrows scrunched together. Again, you waited for him to look at you. It took him a while, but when he finally looked up at you, with sadness swirling in his eyes, you pulled him off the bench and in the direction of the three boys.

“What are you doing?!” He asked quietly, but harshly. “Y/N!”

You ignored him, focusing on the boys. They needed to be taught a lesson, seeing as their parents had never taught them how to play nice with other children. It was a good thing your parents encouraged you to hit back if a boy ever started the fight. What did your parents call it again? Self defense?

As you approached, they snickered and stood from their respective swings, forming a line, a barrier, to the swingset. Without a second thought, you pushed the one you assumed to be the ringleader.

“Hey! What was that for?” He asked, shooting you a dirty look. His friends helped him to his feet, brushing dirt from the back of his knees. “That wasn't very nice of you.”

“Then why did you do it to my friend?” You challenged, motioning to Axl beside you. As the three boys looked his way, he stepped closer to you, cowering. “I heard you were teasing him. Teasing isn’t nice. So leave him alone!”

“What are you going to do about it?” The second boy asked. As you stepped toward him, he backed up, eyes wide. He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Fine.”

“Now say you’re sorry,” you instructed, staring each one in the eye. Wrapping an arm around Axl’s shoulders, he relaxed under your touch. He was glad to have you there. Somehow, in a fluffy yellow tutu, a bright pink shirt, and puke green shoes, you intimated the three boys. And you’d come to his defense like a true friend would.

The boys gave each other a look before mumbling an apology. Not wanting to start more drama, they slinked off to the other side of the playground, leaving the swingset empty.

Turning to Axl, your heart softened at the formation of a smile on his face. His body wasn’t so tense anymore. “Want to swing with me?”

He nodded, and you sat next to each other on the swingset, swinging gently and laughing at all the random, silly things little kids laugh at.

“Thank you,” Axl whispered. He was still a bit shy around you, but he managed to look you in the eye once more. “For being my friend.”

You reached out to grab his clammy hand in your own, squeezing it tightly as if you were afraid he’d let go. “We’re going to be friends forever. I won’t let anyone be mean to you. Okay?”

“Promise?” Axl asked, searching for reassurance.

You nodded. “I promise.”

~~~

You had kept the promise for a while. Throughout your teenage years, you acted as Axl’s protector, his guardian angel, the keeper of his childhood troubles and darkest secrets. In school, everyone knew. No one dared to mess with him while you were around. And if they did, you had no problem putting them in their place. You’d done it many times before.

Slowly, Axl’s shell disappeared. He started to talk a bit more, about the abuse he’d suffered at the hand of his stepfather. He found friends of his own, and began to smile more often, which was a sight that melted your heart. He’d answer questions in class and even joined the choir, a place where he truly felt like he belonged. Being in the choir drove him to carry around a tiny blue book, where he’d write down his inner thoughts that he would later go on to develop as lyrics for songs performed by his band, Guns N’ Roses, with his four best friends, Izzy, Duff, Steven, and Slash. Thanks to you, there was a light in his usually dull gray eyes.

And, thanks to you, Axl began to feel things he'd never felt before. At sixteen years old, he started paying more attention to your feelings, whether you were happy, sad, angry, joyful. He would always find excuses to look at you, be around you, put a smile on your face. You infiltrated his thoughts, sometimes in more than a friendly way, and his heart would race whenever you were near him. To make sense of his thoughts, his feelings, he’d write them in his book. The moment Axl realized he was foolishly in love with you was when he found himself writing songs about you.

But he’d never shown you any of the songs, afraid of what you might think of him when you understood the songs were for you. By the time Axl turned eighteen, your friendship began to dwindle. You were twenty years old with no set plans for the future. A wandering soul. A free-spirit. Traveling the world was the only thing on your mind. Axl accompanied you to the airport the morning you planned to leave your old town behind, savoring the feeling of your body wrapped in his arms, before sending you off to start your journey in Los Angeles, California. LA was supposed to be the start of your adventure, but you quickly fell in love with the city, and never stepped foot anywhere else.

And the minute you left is when the bullying started back up again. Only this time though, Axl let the words roll off his shoulders. He adopted a new wardrobe filled with leather jackets, leather pants, hats, and bandanas, hoping his new appearance would keep others away and make them nervous to be around him. When that didn’t work, Axl eventually began to fight back. There was no one to protect him anymore. He had to stand up and do it for himself.

In his early twenties, Axl found himself living in West Hollywood, making friends with the wrong crowd, dropping hundreds of dollars on tattoos every two weeks, and trying his best to avoid jail time. He became somewhat of a rebel, a delinquent, like the biological father he barely remembered, snorting cocaine, not loving it, and then sticking with cigarettes. Instead of shying away from trouble, Axl went looking for it.

The formation of Guns N’ Roses changed everything, kept him grounded. While his time had been spent causing trouble and fighting officers, it was now taken over completely by managing a rock band. He still smoked every now and again, but he’d completely quit the hard drugs and bitter alcohol. Playing gigs, writing lyrics, and touring the world with his bandmates was all he needed. It gave him a purpose. It made him happy.

But, like every rockstar does, Axl made a few enemies on his climb to fame. He’d been in a few bar fights with none other than Skid Row’s lead bass guitarist, Rachel Bolan. Words were exchanged with Stephen Pearcy of Ratt, and he and Poison singer Bret Michaels did not get along. At all.

Now, in his mid twenties, Axl was able to let go of the grudges he’d held. Well, almost all of them. In the music world, it was normal for lead singers of different bands to have bad blood, which is exactly what Axl Rose had with Vince Neil, lead singer, or screecher, as Axl called him, of Mötley Crüe.

Axl couldn’t stand the guy, and for good reasons. Vince was stuck up, conceited, a hotshot. He was always drunk it seemed, unable to hold his liquor. Plus, his vocals weren't even that great. He had no business being as arrogant as he was.

Although Axl and Vince had never been in a physical altercation, (yet) the hatred was mutual between the two singers. The media were constantly pitting them against each other, and instead of fighting it together, they bashed and bad-mouthed each other.

What Axl and the rest of the world wasn’t aware of was your romantic relationship with Vince. Your relationship was purposely kept hidden away from the media, away from the fans. Vince never mentioned you in interviews, nor would he have you on his arm at award ceremonies. And for a while, you understood. The label needed Vince to keep up the bad boy, bachelor image. They were convinced it would generate more attention for the band as a whole. But there were days that you wished Vince would come out to the world and show you off like you, and Mick Mars, his bandmate, believed you deserved.

Of course, Axl didn’t know anything about your current life, your struggles, but that didn’t mean he never tried. He searched everywhere for you, from West Hollywood to Malibu and even Beverly Hills, but after almost a year of searching, he’d finally given up. You’d been away from him for too long. Did you have a job? A family? Where were you living? The last time he had spoken to you was more than seven years ago when he watched you board the plane headed for LA.

Though it’s been years since he’s seen you, his feelings never dissolved. If you were indeed off the market in a happy, loving relationship, then no, Axl wouldn’t dare try and sabotage your relationship, but he had to find a way to show you how much he loved you. What he needed was just a little bit of patience, and all of the pieces would fall into place.

#axl rose #axl rose guns n roses #axl rose fanfic #axl rose fic #axl rose fanfiction #axl rose x reader #axl rose x you #axl rose x y/n #axl rose x female reader #axl rose imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses fic #guns n roses fanfiction #guns n roses x you #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses x y/n #guns n roses x female reader #gnr #gnr fanfic #gnr fanfiction #gnr fic #gnr imagine #gnr x reader #gnr x you #gnr x y/n #gnr n female reader

[zombiejoepino]

The Scavenger. CH: 3 (Cobb Vanth x OC fanfic)

Chapter 3: The Search 

simpFandom: The Mandalorian

Word count: 3636

Summary: Plog is searching from town to town for anything related to the missing Scavenger. The Marshal finds she is gone already.  

A/C: If you havent read the first parts, they are here and here. Also you can check them on my wattpad 

"I'm telling you, this is too much. I'm not paying for that piece of trash." The pale hooded man rose his arms and signed at the tiny hooded figure.

The Jawa just shook his arms and argued back that it was a fair price. It might be an old speeder but it works. He was trying to explain and then folded his arms, telling him to take it or leave.

Plog just frowned for a moment and handed him the bag with credits. The Jawa took the time to count it and shook his hand. He steps aside to let him check the old imperial speeder. The weapons were down but, it moved. For him, it looked like they put together whatever they found and just label it as imperial to get a fair price.

He muttered in his language and took off in the speeder.

He didn't like Captain Qod that much, yet, it meant protection for him. His gambling habits got him in a lot of trouble, Qod stood up for him in exchange for information. Plog was useful and sneaky to get intel from strangers or anyone. He knew everything about the town, what kind of drink you like, how many Hutts went around before they were all gone, even knew about the lone Jedi that years before helped that farm boy. He never saw them again.

Now, he was just an errand boy, looking for two bounty hunters and their prey. Probably they killed each other and tried to take the canister, who knows. There was a small chance that the woman was dead already. After all, it was the Captain's words to bring her dead or alive, he didn't care, he wanted back was his prize.

Plog wasn't exactly loyal to anyone but, he owed Qod, and the man was good at finding traitors and take them down personally, like the time he just threw one of his crew members out of the ship cause he giggled about his heist plans. Qod didn't like pranksters or jokers, he was serious with his matters. He had little tolerance for stupidity but, Plog a lucky card, he was silly and clumsy, yet, he was useful.

The first stop would be nearby towns, asking the right folks about two lousy hunters wouldn't be so hard. Those two weren't exactly low profile. They were loud, show-offs, always trying to demonstrate how strong they were, picking fights cause they could, ally with other hunters that were stupid enough to trust them and take the bounty from them. No honor amongst thieves.

But those stops would be useless. If those two are on the run, they would go to Mos Eisley's spaceport and take passage with anyone, leave with the canister forever. He hated the whole road to Eisley cause that meant problems; dust, Tusken Raiders, and long cold nights in the middle of nowhere. He loved the comfort and the luxury in the city that he disliked those dead areas and sleeping in the ground. That annoyed him the most.

...

The sunbeam made its entrance through the thin curtains aiming right at his face. The first rays were warm but not burning ones like the mid-day ones. He opened his eyes and quickly scanned the area. He studied the dirty white walls and dusty ground, the armor placed in a chair next to a helmet.

Cobb sat up and stretched a little. He had no idea how long he slept but it was time to start his duties. An idea bolted in his head and made him rushed to the room.

It was empty.

He sighed and shook his head, looking around last night's disaster; shattered glass on the floor, the bloodied and dirty bandages. He rubbed his temples to think.

Maybe it was the best if she was gone but he felt responsible for the girl. He was not a smooth-talker with strangers and worst, with women. He was rough with her and pushed too much. He didn't even ask if she was feeling better.

When you corner an animal, they jump on you, he thought. No reason why the girl snapped at him.

Cobb picked up the glasses and bandages, putting them into a small bin. Then, he fetched a clean shirt and tossed away the dirty one. He ran his fingers through the primitive like star-shaped scar with dots and hashes on his back. He hated every side of it, what it meant but, it was a reminder to keep fighting.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts and rushed to put on the long-sleeved shirt. By the entrance, there was a slim guy with a hat and big rounded shades. He had small scars over his cheeks. When the Marshal stepped out, full armor and everything, he waved at him.

"Morning Marshal! How was last night's watch?" Marc flashed a friendly smile and shook hands with him.

"Nothing new, son. Creatures chasing each other. Not sign of the Dragon yet." Cobb adjusted the crimson bandanna across his neck.

"That must be a good sign, right? Maybe it's gone."

"Or just hunting somewhere else. Anyway, is the list ready?"

Both men walked together across the town making their way towards the bar. Cobb could hear Marc talking but was not paying too much attention, he kept wondering if the stranger was gone, maybe lost in the dunes, limping away from Sand People, or worst, found by the large Dragon.

His mind kept drifting. He thought about his time as a slave, how the women had it worst than anyone. He hoped that The Mining Collective or the Red Key Raiders wouldn't find her. The whole idea of what they do to young girls just made him sick.

He felt bad for thinking that and worst for not being able to help her. Damn, he wished she would listen to him and understand he had no shady intentions.

"And we need fuel." Marc's voice finally made some sense and snapped the gruesome thoughts in the Marshal's head.

Cobb frowned thinking about it and he started to nod. Marc rose a brow noticing the lost gaze and rephrased again.

"For the speeders. And extra for the young lady, your guest."

"My guest?" Cobb said.

"Aye, she got up early. Limped around and waited for the old Weequay to open the joint."

Cobb tried to act as cool as possible and told Marc to look for him later. He would fetch a soup and get them ready to go. The Marshal made his way into the joint and scanned the area looking for her.

The young redhead was near the counter having lunch; blue milk and slices of Ahrisa. She dipped the bread in the liquid and took a small bite. She finally looked at the Marshal but didn't say much. Just gave him a slight nod.

Cobb tried his best not to smile, he was glad that she was still around.

"Everything ok, Marshal?" Weequay spoke at him while he poured down a drink and slid a wooden bowl for him.

The Marshal nodded, gulped down his morning drink, and then took the bowl. He noticed the bartender's uneasy eyes when he looked back at the young redhead.

"Is it safe to keep her around?" The old one lowered his voice.

"Just for a few days, pal. Let's give her a break." Cobb sipped from the bowl.

Nath just kept her gaze down her plate and didn't dare to look back at the armored man. She was shamed about her behavior but was too proud to apologize. She heard his footsteps approaching her and looked up at him.

"Thought you were gone." He flashed a pearly smile.

Nath just shrugged and looked away. "I was about to but I was hungry, so, I hopped my way out and got here."

"You know you could ask for help, kid."

"You seemed tired. I don't wanna give you much trouble." She took another bite from the bread.

"How's the leg?"

"Better, it hurts at times but it's not that bad."

"Good. I'll bring more bacta spray then."

"Going somewhere, Marshal?"

"Out of town to get supplies. Do you need anything?" He placed the bowl on the table like he was about to sit down with her. He gave it a second thought and stood still.

"Just the fuel. I was hoping to put together a speeder with whatever was left from the crash."

"Whatever you were riding is gone. The rest is with us."

"Are they working properly? Maybe I can check them for you cause I took some pieces from them." She tried to stand up but the leg stung at that moment. She cursed quietly and sat back.

Cobb chuckled and placed his hand over her shoulder while looking at her.

"Don't sweat about it, kid. I'm sure they are ok" He reached the bowl and sipped it while reading out her expression. She didn't say anything but after giving it a long thought, she nodded at him.

"Well, you should trust me on this. They are gonna break down before you exit the town." She took another bite.

...

The streets were packed with junk dealers and other black-market folks, trying to shove you whatever piece of trash droid or strange food they had around. Plog just kept walking between them, trying to keep them away from his pockets.

He wasn't exactly a flashy man but, these lowlives can't tell the difference and are willing to steal anything they can find.

The pale man was uneasy for parking the speeder outside the dirty joint, Jawas or other scavengers always stopped long enough to take a piece or two. If he needed intel about the bounty hunters' whereabouts, that was the only place where he could go.

A smoky atmosphere crashed his face, followed by music and indistinct conversations between the folks around. Some helmets looked back at him, just checking the new stranger. Others just ignored him, no one started for too long.

Plog just moved around to catch up with the Zabrak bartender. He had mean looks, a horned head but quickly asked him if he needed a drink. Plog slid the credits on the counter and, the Zabrak took them fast.

"What are you looking for?"

"More like who. I dunno if you saw these guys around." He took out a puck that flashed the hologram of the two bounty hunters. The Zabrak examined the blueish image and made a face.

"Yeah, those two were around a couple of nights ago. They go around like bounty hunters but ain't exactly from the Guild. They got a reputation for joining bounty hunters from the Guild in their quests. When they have the proper opportunity, they shot down the Guild member and take the puck. It worked the first two times but those two are stupid. While they were drunk, they didn't stay quiet about their achievements and got The Guild's attention. There's a price for their heads so, my best guess is that they must be dead by now."

"Do you know who they were tracking the last time?"

"Some old Quarren."

"Did you see a woman or someone else with any of them?" Plog said.

"Not, I mean, the Quarren met with different people that day, all of them male. He even cut a deal with a scavenger." The bartender paused while his thoughts drifted for a moment.

"Now that I think about it, I can't tell if it was a woman or not. He or she wore a long tunic and mask. But I remember that scavenger cause those two followed him after taking down the Quarren. It was strange they just left him there to follow him or her. "

"Anything peculiar about the scavenger? Did they come back?"

"I haven't seen them after that day and the scavenger, I didn't pay much attention, you know how they are. Carrying trash bags, stealing whatever they can. Arguing with Jawas. Nothing else." The Zabrak poured himself a drink and shrugged. "Maybe talk to the Jawas." He joked.

"Yeah, right. They are gonna rip me off." Plog shook his head and left the counter. He was running out of ideas.

...

Her body plopped under the biker speeders, checking the cable hitches, patching up the fuel tube, and reached a small screwdriver from her bag as she adjusts the loose shift gear. Fixing things always made her feel better in any situation. She didn't mind the heat, the sweat, or the oil stains on her clothes. What mattered to her was making the speeder work.

Basic 101 for scavengers was being able to take someone's trash and turn it into a decent vehicle. Stealing was allowed if you didn't get caught. Cantinas were the best place to wait for your next hit. There is always someone that gets too drunk and passes out in the middle of the street.

That was the chance to take the finest pieces fast as you could before others showed up. It was a never-ending battle with Jawas. They were always in groups and worked faster, but if a human was smart enough, it would take the best parts first and leave the rest for the little scoundrels.

Nath didn't think of herself as the best mechanic from her town but, she was a pretty decent one. She kept a low profile most of the time and no one bothered her when she put together speeders or podracers, only if they paid a fair price.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the approaching footsteps and a voice.

"Thirsty?" He spoke and stopped next to the bike. The Marshal looked down at the curious woman and shook a small bottle with water.

"You bet but, I wanna finish this." She peeked out to look at him and return her attention to the bike. Her hand tried to reach a wrench.

"You should take a break, kid." The Marshal lowered down to hand her the wrench and smiled at her.

She puffed her cheeks and rolled her eyes. "Told you, I'm not a kid." She took the tool from his hands. Seconds later, her hand reached out of the bottle.

"Where did you learn to do this?" His eyes studied the bike and the tools around the ground, followed by small pieces from other ships or speeders.

"I was raised by scavengers, learned a few tricks from pilots, and picked one or two things from Jawas." Nath sipped the water. This weather was unbearable at times.

"Ever thought about starting your shop?" He kept examining the items around and, picked something that looked like a knife. It had old blood or oil stain. He couldn't tell by the color.

"It crossed my mind but I didn't worry too much when I worked f..." and she paused before she gave away something else. "Business is hard, you gotta commit yourself to one place and it's not my style."

"Staying in one place is not that bad, at least you can call it home." He shrugged and looked at her working.

"I'm not sure about that. I've been moving around since I was a kid, so home is not exactly something I look for."

"We all need one at some point."

"Not when you are being hunted down." She muttered to herself and tried to change the conversation. "What about you? Why Marshal and not bounty hunter if you have that armor?"

"Long story. But killing for pleasure is not my thing." He admitted.

"And killing in the name of the law is?" She chuckled.

There was a small silence, Cobb kept a serious expression and smirked.

"If they pull, I put them down." He said.

"So, you made your own rules for this town?"

"There's not much to follow, just don't step over your neighbor kinda thing. We look after each other."

"That's interesting. From where I come from, you have to watch your back all the time. I guess that's why I'm not made for places like this."

"You can't tell if you haven't tried it"

"Are you asking me to stay, sir?"

"I'm just saying."

"Sure." She flashed her tongue at him and kept her head down under the bike. Then she groaned when the oil leaked down her clothes and hands. "Dank farrik!" She yelled.

The Marshal chuckled and shook his head. He reached for an old rag to hand it to her. She snatched it from his hand to clean her dirty face.

He couldn't help himself to think that she looked cute with the dirt and oil stains across her fair skin and flushed delicate face. The contrast between those two ideas got him thinking but scratched the idea off his mind when the pale gaze met his.

Her eyes had a peculiar way to look at someone. This time they were friendly, curious about him, unlike last night. He swore that those soft blue eyes were cold and sharp with him, just like ice or whatever it looks like. He never got the chance to leave this planet, but he knew stories about those other worlds and snow.

Nath crawled out from under the bike and thumbed up at him.

"Ready to go, Marshal." She smiled at him.

"Thanks. And you can call me Cobb, you know."

"Well, I like calling you Marshal." She teased him. Cobb chuckled and held out his hand to help her.

She pulled herself up with a swift move but bumped her chest with him. His first reaction was to hold her still and not let her fall. She rested her hands over his chest. Their gazes lock for a moment and they froze right there.

Being close to him allowed her to see his features a little better. Even though his hair was grey already, he didn't look old. She thought that he was trying to look older than he was. She found herself studying his features again. Even breathing was something she didn't dare to do.

Cobb noticed a few looks from the locals and quickly moved his hands away to give her space.

"Good work, kid. I think the boys and I are ready to go." He excused himself and smiled at her.

The redhead smiled back, dusted off the sand from herself, and took the bottle from the ground. She took a large sip to refresh from the heat.

...

The tiny hooded figure just kept studying his speeder and nodding vigorously. He signed those pieces he wanted and, Plog just rolled his eyes. He looked around many times, making sure no one else was watching him with the group of Jawas and took out the small puck. He displayed the image of Nathsca and, they yelled gibberish in anger.

His jawaese was pretty bad yet, he understood briefly that the woman was around taking what rightfully belonged to them, that she had no reason to be a scavenger. They saw her taking off. She left behind most of her belongings but, she clung to an old silver canister. They wanted the canister. It was shiny.

Plog shook his head at them and quickly kept the puck back in his pockets. He paid the tiny hooded figures and pushed them away from his path. Some of them cursed at him but picked the pieces they wanted from the speeder.

A Jawa rushed after him and pulled his sleeve, Plog looked quite annoyed and folded his arms. "What now? I told you, anything you want but It needs to keep working."

The Jawa shook his head and signed at him while he whined. Plog squinted his eyes, listening to with attention, trying to put together all the ideas but he was pretty sure what the tiny one just told him. This was the first time that he met a Jawa that wanted something for himself.

"Off the map, you say?" He lowered to his level. The Jawa nodded as it explained quietly about the lost sandy areas in the west, an old mining place near a small town called Mos Pelgo. People thought it was gone, but this little guy saw the town; just farmers. When the speeders chase down the young scavenger, they were on the path to this town.

Plog slid a bag with credits for the little Jawa that rushed back with his kin but kept the bag for himself.

West. The unexplored dead area. He would go and tell the Captain with the risk of finding lone and empty dunes, taking the risk of getting attacked by the sand people, or worst, a Krayt Dragon. Qod was way scarier than the dragon. The dragon would eat you and, that was it. Qod would take his time to torture you before killing you.

The pale man jumped back in his speeder. He needed to get supplies, fuel, and a blaster. He thought about bringing muscle but, it was hard to trust anyone these days. Lone dunes or not, he was not gonna let some stranger or sand people take advantage of him. Shooting first and fast. Basic survival skills. He gave a second thought about bringing muscle.

tagged for the readers and thanks for reading too :3 : @simpfields @fandoms-will-be-the-death-of-me @sithcajunvalkyrie  @qrangcr  @rachel2003 @wolfangelwings @storytellerandwriter25  @beyond-antares @youmademeanolyphant  @kenobilover1009 

#cobb vanth #cobb vanth x oc #cobb vanth fanfiction #cobbvanth

[theinkquiry]

What He Left Behind

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (could be read as past!Steve X Bucky or past!Steve X Reader)

Prompt: You, Sam, and Bucky returned from the Blip only to lose the one person in your life who had defined so many of your years. With your world forever changed, it’s hard to not be bitter about what happened. Bucky tries to help you heal. You both end up a little better, a little worse. 

Warnings: Not Steve Rogers friendly. Contains large amounts of salt. 

A/N: I had to write this because lately I’ve been waking up enraged about what happened to Steve at the end of Endgame. It hasn’t been good. We got a good dose of self-projecting here today, lads. 

Two weeks after saving the world and you were sitting on a second-hand couch bought online, nursing a beer in your ‘brand new’ apartment that was older than you and Sam but younger than Bucky. Whatever show you’d been watching was left on autoplay for a while now. You weren’t really paying attention, but lord did you need the background noise. If you stared hard enough, the vaguest outlines of your slumped body could be seen between the static screen. Deciding it a fun little game, you looked only to find your reflection frowning back. You switched off the TV and turned to your side, taking another sip. 

You didn’t even like beer. 

Fourteen days since Steve Rogers ran out of your life forever, and you had no clue what to do with yourself since then. Unlike with Sam, the old man didn’t bother thinking of your place in the grand scheme of things.

Sure, he talked to you. It was an honor that he even bothered to ask for you at all. And as you sat beside him in front of the giant sprawling pond, you recalled a strange sense of calm as Actual Old Man Rogers drawled words of wisdom. About how he wished you two had more time together but ultimately it was never meant to be and your paths would have to diverge. It was supposed to provide closure and signal a new beginning. With the gentle breeze and serene atmosphere, you left feeling okay. That maybe a new sort of peace could be salvaged. A feeling that lasted for all of five hours before you were left a garbled, confused mess.

“Jerk,” you mutter to yourself. 

Even the insult tasted bad on your tongue, tainted by its connotation. But calling him anything worse would have been cruel to call a now nearly two-hundred-year-old man. 

Though you three only moved in a short while ago, the apartment looked so lived-in yet so empty at the same time. Water stains on the table from coaster-less drinks, but no centerpiece. Pristine white walls yellowed in the dingy lighting. A pile of mail on the counter- none important. Some old appliances that have yet to be used. You briefly entertained the idea of cooking until you realized that you, Bucky, and Sam ran on different schedules these days. 

You cast a glance at the door. 

“Still sulking?” Bucky’s voice came in through the door even before the keys started jangling. He came in not five seconds after with a bag of groceries, shrugging off his thick jacket and tossing aside his baseball cap. 

Teasing as his question was, you felt a little relieved upon his arrival. Ignoring what he said, you picked his hat off the floor in front of you. Bucky always managed to toss his garments right within your reach on the couch. Far enough so he won’t pick it up, but close enough for someone else to do it. How considerate. If you didn’t already know how much of a jokester he was, you might have taken offense. 

Though it had been a few years, Bucky’s wardrobe didn’t contain anything beyond a few plain shirts and his battered old jacket. “You know, you don’t have to wear this stuff anymore.”

“I’m used to it by now. And hello to you too. When’d you get up today? Two in the afternoon?” 

You rolled your eyes but got up to help put away some stuff in the fridge. “Only twelve, for your information. Where’s Sam?” 

“Out on Cap duty-” he noticed your slight grimace- “so it’s just us two for tonight.” 

You didn’t say anything back, opting to finish folding up the plastic bags and tucking them away before returning to your spot on the couch and staring at the blank TV. Bucky sighed loud enough for you to hear. 

“Do you want dinner?”

“Hmm…”

“We could get takeout. Or try whatever this is…” He eyed a frozen dinner box. 

“Not really hungry.”

He dropped the box in the freezer, nudging it shut. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself-” 

There it was again. You slammed down your empty beer can with a hollow echo. “And what about you, huh? Like you’re doing so much better walking around town dressed for a snowstorm in the middle of spring.” 

His eyes darkened. It felt a little bad, sure, but you weren’t any less wrong. As much as Bucky was nagging at you to find a new purpose in life and ‘move on’, the man himself spent most of his time wandering around all his old hangouts in Brooklyn and acting like the whole Thanos thing never happened. Like Steve was on a mini-vacation and about to walk right back and set everything in order. 

Bucky made his way over to the couch beside you, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“I don’t need you to tell me anything. I need you to stop acting like what happened was totally fine, because it’s not.” You frowned, clutching at the empty can if only to hold onto something. “He didn’t even say good-bye!”

“It was a long time coming…”

“Was time hopping back to who knows when really so urgent that he couldn’t have at least talked it out with us?”

“Steve said that if he did, we’d probably convince him to stay.”

“Well then maybe he should have,” you argued, “instead of galavanting off back to the land of no internet. What happened to the guy who couldn’t turn back if a situation was headed south? ‘Cause let me tell ya, the events after the forties sure weren’t heading north!” 

“Maybe it was time for Steve to finally do something for himself. After everything, doesn’t he deserve to be a little selfish?”

“There’s a difference between selfish and leaving everything behind. Again!” The metal can crunched under your harsh grip. “We were gone five years. Five years he’s been allegedly missing us. Then what? We come back and he’s just- just okay with leaving us again?”

He pressed his lips together in an attempt to compose himself. “I know this is difficult, but like Steve said-” 

“Forget what Steve said! I’m pissed!” You threw the can to the floor and stomped up. “And I know you are too, so why can’t you acknowledge that?” 

Bucky’s stern neutrality didn’t waver. If he needed time to think it over, that was fine with you too. Now that you got started, it was hard to stop. “Every single day. I’ve been telling myself ‘it’s what Steve would have wanted, you have to move on’ and ‘he deserved to be happy with her’ but what about us, huh?”

Still no response, Bucky’s eyes zeroing in on the dusty wooden floors. 

“What about what I wanted? Or what you wanted? Or Sam? All of a sudden it’s goodbye Falcon, hello Cap. Why, because Steve said so? Steve, Steve, Steve. It’s all about Steve. And sure, yeah, I’m happy or whatever that he got to live a beautiful life with his lost love. It’s just so romantic and blah blah blah. I’m so sick of always putting Steve first! Don’t we matter?” 

“Of course we matter,” Bucky insisted.

“Well, it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it!” You shouted back. “We already lost Tony and Nat. Why did he have to go too?” 

You took several deep breaths. A few tears had already spilled over, and your face felt warmer than Bucky’s arm on hot summer days. 

“I’m not mad,” Bucky said after a while. His head hung low, allowing his long hair to cover most of his eyes. 

You bit your tongue, reminding yourself that you weren’t the only one hurt by Steve’s actions. Quelling your anger took some effort, and knowing that Steve left Bucky in this state made your rage seethe out again.

“Well you sure as hell aren’t just fine and dandy, are you?” You crossed your arms, pacing the floor. 

“No,” he admitted, “I’m not. I-I thought I could do it. He told me right before he left, looked me right in the eye and told me that I was the best pal he ever had. That it was time for him to catch a break. A-and I really believed him. But thinking back now, I don’t even know how I feel.”

You allowed your shoulders to relax, and sat back on the couch beside him. “He’s Steve Rogers. Of course he has that effect on people.”

 He kept on talking, though not necessarily at you. Sort of working it out by himself out loud. Every now and then, you’d squeeze his hand or rub his back. To think that he had lost his best friend upwards of five times now. It was a comically absurd number. The kind that put into perspective just how difficult processing everything must be. This was the only time Steve chose to go willingly. 

“He was so distraught over not seein’ Peggy for decades, but all of a sudden he’s okay with doin’ the same thing to us? I came back thinkin’ it would be one more fight. Then maybe, if even for a few months or something, we could… I dunno…” 

You knew how he felt. Maybe not exactly, but it could not be easy to hear that someone was with you “‘til the end of the line” only for them to suddenly tell you that the line stopped here, good luck. As close as you, Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Steve were before… it all still felt like mission stuff. Never truly having the time to do silly bonding things that other adults would do. Sure, there were fun times, but it all felt so incomplete. 

You felt duped every time you thought back to those years in DC. Every time you remembered when Steve would talk about the past- it stuck out like a warning sign. A premonition you should’ve seen coming. You let out a dry, bitter laugh. Purposeful or not, he really fooled you into thinking that he moved on, and that staying in the present was better than going back. So much for ‘no polio’. 

“You know, he never even finished his stupid list.” You told Bucky after his mumbling trailed off into silence. “No trip to the space museum. No team dinners. No movie nights.  Nothing. We didn’t even finish any Disney movies past the 1980s.” 

That seemed to make him crack a smile. “I wonder how the punk’s dealin’ without his weather app.”

“You think he’d miss it that much?”

“It was the smallest conveniences that brought the most joy for old geezers like us.” 

You burst out laughing, playfully pushing his arm. Bucky’s breathing evened out again, and he felt the slightest bit lighter. Shifting around on the couch, you ended up relaxing against each other and putting on something lighthearted to act as background noise. Half paying attention, half lost in your own thoughts. 

“Maybe,” he began in a soft voice, “before we try and hop back into hero nonsense, we can do all those things together. Movies ‘n stuff.” 

You looked up, a suspicious grin on your face. “Is that right?”

He scoffed. “Don’t look at me like that. Steve ain’t the only one who missed out on all those cool things, ya know.”

You supposed he was right. If Steve wasn’t going to stick around to experience your plan to ease him back to real-time, Bucky for sure would. You, Sam, and Nat had actually put more effort than you’d like to admit into brainstorming fun ways for Steve to reacclimate himself. It’d be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste… 

Bucky shook his head. “It’s kinda funny though. One moment you think you’re a second away from finally catchin’ a break-” 

“-the next, you’re left with an empty podium and semi-comforting words from a wrinkly old man.” You finish his sentence. 

“Hey,” he gave you a nudge, “I’m not that wrinkly.” 

You shared a laugh. The rest of the night spent bonding over the loose ends Old Man Rogers left behind and daydreaming about all the possibilities that still lay ahead of you. 

Little did either of you two know, Sam had been outside for a while trying to get a handle on his new tactical gear before any of the neighbors noticed. He walked in at the sight of his two roommates asleep. You curled into Bucky’s side, clutching at his shirt while he had an arm around your waist. 

It was a good catharsis, and perhaps you two could finally help each other instead of suffering in silence. Sam shook his head with a low chuckle. “Dorks.” 

He decided to leave you both alone, wondering what reactions you’d both have waking up so snuggled in the morning. One of these days, hopefully soon, all three of you could get together and try to build a new family in this post-Steve Rogers world. But for now, he stole one of Bucky’s sodas from the fridge, he tossed a blanket over the two of you, and let himself relax in the comfort of his own room after a long day of being Captain America. 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #marvel #the avengers #avengers #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #marvel oneshot #avengers oneshot #reader insert

[bunnymaknaereacts]

모해 (Mohae) - 하나 (one)

Pairing: Reader x Wonho (ft. Reader’s friend x Changkyun)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fansign!AU

Warnings: Swearing, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 2k

(Anything said in Korean will be in italics. I don’t want to chance translating it wrong and people getting mad at me. I’m still learning.)

“I can not believe you talked me into this,” you said with a blush as you and your best friend stood in line outside of the concert hall where a fan meet of one of your favorite kpop groups, Monsta X, was taking place.

“What do you mean? We’ve worked so hard to get here,” she answered. You had always planned on visiting Korea. Both you and Y/F/N had been saving for over a year. You were almost fluent in the language, although Y/F/N had only studied the basics required to get around. But now that you were here, about to meet some of your favorite idols, you couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

“I know. It’s just... unreal.”

“Well get used to it. Fast. You don’t want to sit down and not be able to speak, especially not in front of Wonho.” She nudged you with her elbow, giving you a flirty look. You laughed. She was right. You needed to chill out.

You stood in line for another hour or two before they finally opened the doors to let people in.You and Y/F/N had been in line since 3:30/4 am so you were near the front and would be able to meet the boys fairly early in the day. You both had everything you needed for the event. Your favorite albums, yours being The Connect and Y/F/N’s being Shine Forever. Your gifts for each of the boys, Yours being handmade bracelets with each member’s first initial and Y/F/N’s being a keychain from a shop in your hometown. Your questions for the Q&A after the signing. Songs from Monsta X’s latest album, We Are Here, played over the sound system while the fans found their seats and got settled. The event space was huge, the bleachers pushed back to allow more seats on the floor. Adverts for We Are Here and the upcoming world tour hung on each wall, along with a few for other events happening later that week. Another hour went by before the doors were closed and an announcement was made that the event would be starting shortly. Y/F/N squealed excitedly next to you as you dug your albums out of your bags.

When Monsta X finally entered the room erupted in cheers from Monbebe from around the world, the loudest being the person sitting right next to you. You winced, grinning as you watched the idols find their seats, waving to their fans. When the boys sat down their managers explained how things were going to go. The fans would go up one row at a time. You got five minutes with each member. You weren’t allowed to have your phone out at the table. You could give one gift per member. When the five minutes were up, say goodbye and move on. When the signing was over there would be a two hour long Q&A. You were allowed to have snacks as long as you didn’t leave a mess behind. Photography was allowed as long as you kept using flash to a minimum. 

You and Y/F/N were sitting in the fourth row from the front so you had to wait quite a while, but not too long. While you waited you discussed what you would say and how you thought they would act. Every once in a while your eyes wound scan the stage, watching the boy’s smiles as they signed someone’s album or tried on a silly hat. One time you looked when the second row of fans were meeting the boys and you could have sworn you made direct eye contact with Wonho. Of course you were too shy so you looked away quickly, your face starting to feel warm. A few minutes later though, Y/F/N is insistently poking your side.

“Yah! What? What is it?” you ask, smacking her arm away.

“Wonho is totally staring at you, jagiya.”

“What?” Your head snapped towards the stage and she was, in fact, right. While waiting for the next fan, Wonho was straight up staring at you. And the second you realized this he winked at you. Wonho, Shin Hoseok of the Monsta X, fucking winked at you! “Oh my!” You immediately looked away, the most embarrassed you have been in your entire life. You tried to avoid looking at him after that, just in case you caught his eye again. Of course it was pointless because eventually your row was up and you were standing near the stage, waiting to meet the boys. Y/F/N was in front of you, something you were only half thankful for. While she was talking to Shownu, you couldn’t help but let your eyes roam down the table. Avoiding Wonho, for obvious reasons. Eventually though five minutes were up and it was your turn to meet everyone.

Shownu, aka Hyunwoo, was exactly as you expected. A total teddy bear. He was so incredibly sweet. All you wanted to do was pinch his cheeks and hug him. And his voice was so much deeper in person, it nearly made you swoon. Minhyuk was so much fun. He was very animated. He talked kind of fast. Trying to learn as much about you as he could in those few short minutes. However last question was interrupted when Jooheon next to him did aegyo for Y/F/N.

“This one does aegyo all the time,” she said, pointing to you.

“Really?” Jooheon said, looking at you. “Can we see?” Your eyes went wide as you looked around. Half of the table was looking at you, at first. It wasn’t until you agreed and did it that you had everyone’s attention, even Changkyun at the end. You decided on your favorite, which you did all the time. That thing Wonho does where he points at his head and says ‘ang!’ Then to be extra cute you also did Jooheon’s signature ‘kkukku kkakka!’ From there you heard various sounds. From laughter to squeals of joy to clapping. People ‘aww’ing and Y/F/N groaning as she cringed. Immediately regretting everything, you hid your face in your hands, embarrassed as all hell. You didn’t dare to look at who was doing what. All you wanted to do was pull a Hyungwon and curl up into a ball on the floor. And at that moment, just to make things worse, it was time to switch members. You thanked Minhyuk, taking your album and moving on. You’d later read it to find an additional note that said, “Sorry about Joohoney. Your aegyo was great!” You sat in front of Jooheon, handing him your album while blushing furiously. “That was really good! Almost as good as me.” He smiled, his dimples making you feel a little better.

“Thank you,” you replied, secretly proud to have been complimented by the Aegyo King. He did apologize for making you embarrassed, though, which was really sweet. He also asked about your history of liking kpop. What groups you liked, who your biases were.

“What about Monsta X?” You chuckled breathlessly, nervously glancing around, your gaze landing on your answer to his question for half a second, turning away the second he looked at you. When you looked back at Jooheon he chuckled, very obviously understanding. You gave your best pleading look, begging him not to say anything, to which he thankfully nodded, handing you back your album. You prayed as you got up that Wonho wasn’t paying attention to your conversation, before finally sitting down in front of him.

“Hello, my name is Y/N,” you said politely.

“Wow! Your Korean is so good!” You laughed at his excited reaction. He was so cute, you could hardly stand it.

“Thank you.” You blushed as he smiled that smile that nearly made your heart stop. ‘It should be illegal to be this handsome,’ you thought.

“How long have you been speaking Korean?”

“Three years. I taught myself.” His jaw dropped with surprise.

“Wow! That’s awesome! I feel bad for not studying English harder now.” You laughed as he signed your album, pulling the bracelet you made for him out of your bag. The other members had loved them so far, but you were most nervous to give your bias his. Wonho looked at you curiously as you turned the bracelet over in your hand, his head tilted slightly to the side. “What’s that?” You had to remind yourself to breathe as you finally looked at him, and again when his hand lingered on yours as you handed him the bracelet.

“I-I m-made these for you guys,” you stuttered, struggling as your heartbeat raced out of control. “I added the initial to your first names to them, instead of your stage names. I hope that’s okay.” You were so nervous. He nodded, handing back your album with a smile. Your time with him was about up. Before you got up Wonho took your hands in his, staring into your eyes with the kindest expression, and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.” You were too stunned to reply so you just nodded, moving on to Hyungwon, who had a suspicious smile on his face that you immediately ignored.

Hyungwon was your bias wrecker, so it was almost as nerve wracking talking to him as it was to Wonho, but you managed better. He started off expressing his sympathies for your embarrassment that resulted from doing aegyo. Knowing how he gets doing it made you feel a little better about it. Like Minhyuk, Hyungwon tried to talk to you as much as possible, find out about you. But his questions were more current.

“How long (has this been going on. ... sorry. had to lol xD) are you staying in Korea?”

“One month. Well, actually, we’ve been here for two days already so slightly less than that.” He looked surprised at your answer, compelling you to explain that you had been dreaming of this trip for years. You wanted it to be one to remember. You talked for a few more minutes before he wished you luck. You made sure not to miss his high five before moving on to Kihyun.

Kihyun immediately apologized for Jooheon. He was another victim of aegyo, like Hyungwon, although he wasn’t always embarrassed by it. You talked about your plans for the rest of the week and he gave you recommendations on where to go. Unfortunately your five minutes with Kihyun flew by. It was a shame. Hopefully at the next fan meet you’d get to talk to him more.

Changkyun was very laid back, which you found very refreshing. It made you glad that he was the last one you were talking to. He helped you wind down from the excitement of the others. He also spoke completely in English, even though he knew how good your Korean is, which was nice of him. It was like talking to your best friend who you haven’t seen in a while. You almost cried when it was time to go back to your seat. Everyone was so nice. You wanted to stay. But others deserved to have the experience you just had, so you reluctantly got up and joined Y/F/N back in the fourth row.

The Q&A flew by pretty fast. A few random people were called on to ask the boys questions. After about half an hour they took questions from their Twitter. For the last hour they turned the radio on at a low volume and goofed around. Every once in a while you and Wonho would catch each others’ eyes at the same time, which resulted in you blushing and hiding your face when he wouldn’t look away. You knew you should worry about people noticing. There’s probably a chance you could both get in trouble if they did. But you knew this was they only time you’d get to see him so you didn’t worry about it too much.

On the way back to your hotel, you thought about the long and satisfying day you had. You already missed them, especially Wonho. Still lost in the dream, you even let yourself wonder if he missed you too.

“Aaaahhh,” Y/F/N sighed with pleasure as she collapsed on her bed. You turned away from your position at the window to yell at her.

“Yah! Don’t fall asleep yet, fool! Go take your makeup off first and change.” She sat up, rolling her eyes at you.

“I know! I was just thinking about Changkyun.”

“I bet.”

“Oh don’t pretend you weren’t just staring out at the city view longing for Wonho.” You laughed. She knew you too well. You were in the middle of taking off you own makeup when you got a text message from an unknown number on the phone you bought for while you were in Korea. Confused, you opened your messaging app, nearly dropping it when you saw who texted you.

It was Wonho.

#Monsta X #monbebe #wonho #shin hoseok #wonho x reader #monsta x fanfic #shownu #kihyun #changkyun #i.m #fanfic #fluff #romance #minhyuk #jooheon #fansign fic #i suck at tags #bunnymaknaereacts #mohae

[121distractions]

22- BANLIEUE (housing estates)

My years in college are of no use to me. I do not like what I am learning, I do not like the people I am learning with and I do not understand what I am doing there. All I want is to fuck, dance and get well dressed. I let others decide for me and I ended up with an economy bachelor’s degree and now I am trying to learn law. The law (except the history of law) and the economy, are boring me to death. I like to draw women’s shoes, pants or hats; but even for that, I do not take myself seriously, it is a hobby, it is not a job. One must do law when one do not know what to do because it leads to everything. Lawyers, clerks of notaries, bailiffs, they are characters from Balzac novels, it is not my future. The students, there, behave like fascists and are homophobic. They are surprised that I do not want to do “military preparations”. They spend every weekend at the barracks and when they will do their military service, they will already be officers. No, I will not be a just a stupid soldier, because my military service, I will not do it. The faith in which I grew up forbid to do military service, non-violence was basic. Objectors of conscience must spend twice as much time in prison as they would have spent in military service. When a “brother” went off to do his two years in prison, there was a farewell party, gifts and a lot of prayers. We were all very proud. Some made the effort to visit them in Fleury-Mérogis and had to share their experience on the stage with the microphone at the desk. Even if the speech was spontaneous and would not be judged, it was necessary to pay attention to the gesture, the contact with the auditory and the construction of the message. The prisoners’ letters were read in front of the whole congregation. New prayers would follow. I have never been to Fleury, I was too young. Faith has become superfluous to me, but disgust for the primitive male universe has remained. The uniforms are beautiful and the adventures of Jeff Stryker in prison are very exciting but nothing works, I would do anything to be discharged, P4, psychologically disturbed!

The lesson is really too annoying, Nathalie offers to go to her home to listen to records. Nathalie was Catherine’s best friend at the Émile Dubois High School. They wanted her to repeat her 11th grade so her parents put her in an expensive private school. Catherine partied too many with me and did not get her baccalaureate; I had it in extremis and so did Nathalie. We are now together studying law. Nathalie’s world is very different from Catherine’s. She also lives in a recent building of the 13th arrondissement, but not in a project. It is a residence with intercom. Nathalie uses only her particle for her name but on the bell, there is her full name “Brugerolle de Fraissinette” It does not leave much room for first names. I finally understand why sometimes she initials with a BdF. I never dared to ask. So chic! The apartment is huge but with low ceilings. It is dark, the Venetian blinds are just slightly open, Chinese furniture in black enamel occupy all the space. Nathalie’s mother is Eurasian of Vietnamese origin. She is very typical. Very skinny with a lot of very black hair, she is doing her nails with a small YSL bottle. She really looks like Eartha Kitt! She does not get up to say hello, she does not want to ruin her nail polish. Nathalie teaches me the word “quadroon”, Nathalie Brugerolle de Fraissinette is very proud to be quadroon. For me it sounds more like a descendant of Crusaders knights, but it just means she is a quarter Asian. Nobody could imagine it. Nathalie is a little round and very white, there may be in her eyes a little sign of bridle but you really have to know. The father is an engineer on an oil platform in Abu Dhabi and is never there. We head giggling down the hall. Eartha Kitt understands right away that it is not today that her daughter will finally have a boyfriend. Nathalie’s room is tiny, but she has, for herself, a compact Philips Hi-Fi with record player, FM radio and “auto-reverse” cassette player. She loves “Mad World” from Tears for Fears. I had the feeling that last week when I told her that I did not have the money to buy it, that she had never heard of it, I am intrigued. Will she offer it to me? No, she offers me to share her “Ham-mashed potatoes.” There are so few, I leave her the only calories that she is allowing herself. It is time to go to the Luco. I say it is a good idea but what is the Luco exactly? I keep that silly question for myself. “Au revoir Madame”. Eartha Kitt has a nail that worries her a lot and launches a “Goodbye, Philippe” without lifting her head. We prepare our orange cards, the metro pass for the zones 1 and 2. We have “the ticket chic and shock” as the advertisement says and we leave for the garden of the Luxembourg; the “Luco” in student lingo.

The cheapest orange card is always zone 1 and 2. Zone 1 is Paris “Intra Muros”, zone 2 is the very near suburbs. I know that the real Zone is Malakoff and everybody in the suburbs are zonards. Less than 50 years ago, the former site of the fortifications of Paris was a gigantic wasteland covered with shantytowns. The border of Malakoff had nothing to envy to the Brazilian favelas. I read Celine’s “Journey at the End of the Night” (but in the edition of the Pleiades) and the hell he describes is my suburb, it is Malakoff, gloomy and sordid. Malakoff is in Zone 2, what a luck, nothing differentiates me from real Parisians. Zone 3 is too much of shame! Zone 4, it may be well if you live in Versailles or Le Vésinet but zone 5 is again the horror. Anyway, I also know that leaving Malakoff means having to provide for myself, and I am not ready for it yet. I must still endure the stepfather.

In zone 3, there had been the year before Gilles. Gilles was only 16 years old, and I was not adult yet, we met in The Broad. He lived with his parents in Noisy-le-Sec. We waited until nine in the morning to have no one at my house in Malakoff. I was super tired but Gilles was very cute and a slut in bed. It was worth staying awake, three hours of fucking before having to go off again. I just had a single bed and it is in pretty jolly mood that I was driving Gilles in the big parental bed, the ultimate blasphemy. A bed made of rosewood with floral inlays, a legacy of Granny, the stepfather’s grandmother. After adding positions to the Kama-sutra, the sheets were not always very clean. We were leaving to the bathroom looking for a sponge, hot water and a hair dryer and it looked like nothing happened. It made us laugh so much. Gilles adored me, I think I was his first love. After a few weeks of our insomniac loves, I had to meet his best friends in Noisy. It was far but how to resist the curiosity to discover his home. Arriving in his housing estate, I had already the feeling that despite our identical proletarian social origins, our environments were very different. The north of Paris was much more “violent” than the south. My religious education had been very strict but had been an education. I had learned to read, alone, in conversation or in speech before an assembly, I had a vocabulary. Having read the Bible three times from top to bottom had eventually changed my view of the world. The representation of the blinds of Jericho by Nicolas Poussin in the Louvre, that was fascinating for me. Gilles’ 5 friends listened to rap that I never heard, … in French. They had looked at me, dismayed, I was just clean on me and a little classy. They wanted to shout, “Shit, what are you doing with a bougie?” but had only asked how we had met. It had not been a question, it had been an accusation. Gilles had tried to come out with me, but it was not going as planned. I had seen their universe collapse before their eyes, their childhood friend had just become a fag. Only the curvy girlfriend seemed a little interested in my presence and ready to adopt me. I had invented an excuse to slip away, … forever. It was really too complicated. If I had decided to disappear from Gilles’ life, he had not said his last word. I had found him back recently, more beautiful than ever, successively at the door of The Broad and then of Les Bouchons. He had seen me, talked in a low voice with the other bouncer and left a little while before allowing me to go inside. Was I dreaming? Another time, while Yves the door guy was alone, he told me he liked me but that I had not been nice with Gilles at all. He had been kicked out of his house after coming out, tried to reach me but I ignored him and he had very difficult moments. Now everything was better, but he was mad at me for it. I did not know yet that it would go even further. Two years later, he would have the main role in Jean-Daniel Cadinot’s new X movie “Under the sign of the Stallion” with, as a commercial, a beautiful picture of him in bleached blonde. I would watch the movie, but I would not recognize his cock, it was as if he had a stunt for the sex scenes. I knew his cock well enough! Later, he would die of AIDS, like everyone else. I DID NOT KILL GILLES! The suburbs killed Gilles.

Malakoff is still communist but more and more annexed by the capital. The Theater 71 is supposed to attract all the Parisian intelligentsia, the National Institute for Statistics has the largest building since 74 and the law section of the famous medical school Paris V is overflowing since 1976. Yes, I find myself in college 10 minutes walk from my home. Each train of the Métro delivers its hundreds of beautiful speakers apprentices but I arrive from the other side. I did not cross the ring. I hate not being Parisian. Jimmy Sommerville sings: “Run away, turn away, run away …” But how to survive? I think I am a suburbanite but I am wrong, I am already the worst Parisian. I suffocate as soon as I see these lamentable little pavilions and want to throw up in front of the projects. That is why, Gilles was not possible. My world is civilized, I do not get thrown out, it is me who decides when I go!

The stepfather, he works for TF1, the national television, in Paris rue Cognacq-Jay. He is a kind of a storekeeper. One day he brings back an ad from the collective notice board. A film director exchanges an independent room, not under the attic, in the 15th arrondissement for some hours of babysitting. Mom does not cry, Mom never cries, but she is sad. She did not see much of me anymore, but I was still living there. The former communist woman was so proud to have a son who was studying. Jimmy continues to sing: “You leave in the morning with everything you own in a little black case, Alone on a platform, the wind and the rain on a sad and lonely face”. I am not on the platform of a train station, but on the Métro platform and I am leaving only 3 kilometers away. I will come back for the Friday night dinners, those with the snails and the beautiful porcelain.

[fandom-smut-shots]

Draco - Love Story

Title

Love Story

Pairing

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Fandom

Harry Potter

Summary

Request for MeganChiang

"Could you please write a Draco x anxious! Reader? Many many thanks."

Request for Kyo-Chi

"Could you please do a Draco x childhood friend reader, where she gets sorted into hufflepuff but they are still BFFs, even though she's befriended with the golden Trio without them knowing that Draco and her are BFFs. And Draco having a crush on her since they first met as kids so he gets a bit jealous when she spends a little bit to much time with Harry and Co. Only if you have some time of course. Just ignore this if you're too busy."

Draco had always been there. Since the day you met, the blond was by your side, keeping you company and making you smile. He was your rock, the only person who could bring you out of your shell and make you feel comfortable in your own skin. You'd always been shy and awkward, and when you both started school, your anxiety kicked in. You preferred to hide in the background, whereas your best friend was open and outgoing. Draco helped you to meet new people, and should anyone dare tease your shyness, the blond was ready and willing to defend you by any means necessary.

When you were sorted into Hufflepuff, you worried that your friendship with Draco would come to an end. You knew how strict his father was - being a pureblood Slytherin was everything. Nothing else mattered.

But as you sat on your stool and listened to the Sorting Hat shout out your house, Draco smiled up at you, clapping and cheering because he knew in his heart that you were meant to be a Hufflepuff.

Over the next few years, as puberty came into focus, you began harboring a crush on your childhood friend. You thought it futile and never mentioned it. You knew how Lucius was raising Draco - the boy would be disowned if he fell for someone outside of Slytherin. You were only allowed to be friends as children because you were a pureblood.

Draco was your best friend. He would always be your best friend. But you wanted more than that, and you knew there was no way you'd be able to live watching him fall in love with anyone else.

Unbeknownst to you, Draco was in the same boat. He watched as you befriended Harry and his comrades, and his blood boiled. But this time, it had nothing to do with his petty hatred of the Chosen One. A distinct, unfamiliar twinge stabbed his heart every time he saw you chatting and giggling with the Golden Trio.

Jealousy.

Draco had hoped against hope that you would be sorted into Slytherin with him. He didn't think it was the place for you, but he wanted you to be close to him always. How was he supposed to make a move when you were in another house - a house that he wasn't even allowed to fraternize with unless he wanted to invoke the wrath of his father?

The blond had been crushing on you since you were children. When you started school, he assumed the tingly sensation would fade away, believing it to be a silly childhood crush. But instead it grew stronger, to the point that every time you were around, he was certain you could hear how hard his heart pounded.

The annual visit to Hogsmeade Village was approaching. Everyone had gotten their permission slips signed, and your friends were already partnering up. Harry had already asked Ginny to spend the trip by his side, and Hermione was growing impatient with Ron's lack of asking her.

You sat in the library with your friends. You were meant to be studying, but good luck getting any work done with Ron and Seamus around. Though you were a Hufflepuff, you spent most of your time with Harry and friends. Your housemates were nice, but you didn't have the connection with them that you had with Hermione and Ginny.

Of course, none of that compared to your friendship with Draco. But your new friends were blissfully unaware of that comradery.

"Who are you looking to spend the Hogsmeade trip with, (Y/n)?" Seamus' voice brought you out of your mind palace.

"Hmm?" you replied lamely. "Oh, I don't know. I'll just wander around with whoever's left, I suppose."

"You don't fancy anyone?" Ginny inquired.

A blush dusted your cheeks, but you couldn't possibly tell them the truth. With a half hearted shrug, you answered, "No, not really."

The way Ginny's eyes narrowed told you that she didn't believe you, but neither she nor anyone else pushed the matter.

Hours later, your friends had slowly dispersed, leaving you alone in the library. With a glance to the window, you saw that it was nearly dark. You stuffed your books into your messenger bag and slung it over your shoulder as you rose from your seat.

On your way out of the library, you nearly collided with another student. Glancing up at the taller, you immediately recognized his neatly combed platinum locks.

"Draco!" you beamed. You hadn't been able to spend much time with him as of late.

He smiled softly, your excitement giving him the boost of confidence he needed to carry out the reason he'd come looking for you. "Hey, (Y/n). I have a question for you."

Your head tilted in curiosity as you gazed up at him. "What is it?"

"Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me? I mean, spend the trip with me, instead of your friends?"

Your eyes widened. "Like... a date?"

His heart hammered against his ribs as he nodded. "Yes. Like a date."

Your smile grew wider. "Draco, I'd love to."

He grinned, pulling you into a hug. You buried your face in his neck, resisting a giggle.

"I should get to my dorm," you murmured, reluctantly pulling back.

He nodded, resting a hand on your cheek before letting it fall. "I'll see you on Saturday."

You nodded eagerly. "Saturday."

The trip finally came, and students gathered outside the castle in a mob of sweaters and scarves. After handing McGonagall your permission form, your (E/) eyes darted around in search of a certain blond.

An arm draped around your shoulders and you nearly jumped before recognizing the scent of sandalwood and apples that could only be Draco.

You turned to look up at him, holding his gloved hand with your own in order to keep his arm in place. He grinned at your approval, tugging you close to him before beginning to walk down the path.

He kept asking where you wanted to go, but you would simply shrug in response. You didn't like asking for things, so you let Draco lead you through the shops.

He eventually sauntered into a small store that sold jewelry and other wearable merchandise. You were unaware of the stormy blue eyes watching your every move, paying attention to which pieces of jewelry you picked up and inspected.

While you were distracted looking at sweaters, Draco made his move. Be shuffled up to the counter, asking that his purchase be placed in a decorative box. With an out-of-character "Thank you," he stuffed the box into his jacket pocket before returning to your side.

"Ready to go?" he asked. "I was thinking we could head to the Three Broomsticks for a couple of butterbeers."

You nodded. "That sounds nice."

He wrapped his arm around you once more and led you out.

Once at the inn, he led you to a table and sat down beside you. He liked keeping his arm around you, and you certainly didn't mind snuggling into his warmth.

After your drinks arrived, Draco turned to look at you. "I got you something."

Your brow furrowed. "You did?"

He nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the box. Chewing your lip, you lifted the lid, peering at the trinket inside.

Lying on a bed of cotton was the silver and (f/gemstone) necklace you'd been eyeing at the store. "How did you-"

"I pay attention," he chuckled. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," you smiled. You then placed the necklace in his hand and held up your hair. "Put it on me?"

A smile danced on his lips as he clasped the chain around your neck. With a happy hum, you sipped your butterbeer and settled back into his side. His arm secured around you, and there you stayed until it was time to return to Hogwarts.

#draco malfoy #Draco x Reader #Harry Potter #harrypotter #reader insert

[writingismyhappytime]

Bucky Barnes (Part 5)

Bucky Barnes x Reader (soon)

Warnings: Language, Violence, ex boyfriends, angst, Bucky to the rescue

You can stop being a jerk at any time, you think, crossing your arms as you listen to Stark address everyone. All the Avengers, or at least the ones on earth, are gathered in the conference room, surrounded by glass walls and expensive electronics.

Rogers is sitting across from you, frowning as he listens, blonde brows drawn together. Bucky sits on his right, looking uninterested. He's not even sure why he had to come to the meeting, if this is another one of Steve's ploys to try to get him more involved with what's going on. After all Bucky has done, with as much guilt as he feels, he just wants to pretend he doesn't exist.

"That's all we know about what's going on so far. Destroying the aliens weapon has got them retreating, but we don't know for how long," Stark is saying, looking down at the phone in his hand. "We can't relax, not until we know for sure they're not coming back for a rematch. Defeating them showed we're a force to be reckoned with, but if they bring friends to the next party ---."

"We'll defeat them too." Rogers says firmly, although you know how unlikely that is. "We're going to defend this world from anyone who thinks they can take it."

So confidant.

"How's the Hydra search going?" Natasha asks, her hands clasped in front of her on the table. "Any news?"

"They're underground again," Stark shrugs his shoulders, but you don't miss the look on Rogers face. "I have sources all over the world looking, but they're good at keeping to the shadows."

Riiiiight.

You purse your lips as you lean back in your chair, wondering how the kitten is doing. You've had him a few days now and he seems like he's gaining weight, he's lively --- you're probably going to need to worm him though. You've gotten him some toys, a little box in the bathroom, and he seems to be making himself at home.

You still need a name for him, though. He's an orange fluff of chaos.

"So far, I think we have a little time to relax." Stark eventually says, the first thing to grab your attention again.

Time to focus on your bakery, you suppose.

You glance at Bucky, his eyes flicking up just as you look at him. You offer him a small smile, one he slightly returns before looking away. You lean against the table, propping your chin on your hand.

Really, you wonder how bad of condition your bakery is in. Is there a lot of structural damage? Can the beam be replaced and everything be fine?

Is everything doomed?

It's doomed, isn't it?

It feels doomed.

You feel your pocket buzz, and you frown as you reach down for your phone, the screen still cracked. Stark obviously hasn't replaced it from the jungle incident, but it still works for the most part. You slide the screen open as you see the unfamiliar number, frowning.

Unknown number: Cora we need to talk

Eh?

The fuck?

Cora?

You hesitate, your eyes flicking around the room before you lean back, dropping your phone into your lap nervously. Is this those Hydra freaks again? You'd told Stark about them, how you'd surprised them with a tree. It's not impossible that they'd get your number, but it's also not a good thing.

You: Who is this ?

Unknown number: an old friend. we need to talk.

You: not until i know who the fuck this is

Unknown number: meet me at your bakery at five.

You: like fuck i am. leave me alone.

You click the screen, making it go dark. You're not meeting anyone like that, that's incredibly suspicious! Freaky, ominous, terrifying --- a bunch of other words you can't currently think of. You're a little curious as to who it might be, how they have your number considering you've switched alias's three-four times.

How did someone from Cora's life make it to this one?

You glance around the room, but everyone is getting into a deep discussion and you're suddenly not interested.

Your phone lights up again, and you tense.

Unknown number: i know youre coming tonight. you never let me down.

Never...?

You: who the FUCK is this?

Unknown number: come tonight and you'll see

Ahuh

You: yeah im not doing that

You stuff your phone into your pocket, deciding to ignore anymore texts you get.

You give the room one more glance, and push away from the table. This conversation doesn't concern you anyway, you're tired.  You'd rather stuff carrots in your ears then listen to Stark drone on for another hour.

"Uh, (Y/L/N), where are you going?" he asks the second you stand up, your long hair trailing down your shoulders.

"Uh, I'm leaving," you retort, heading for the glass doors.

"You can't just walk out on an Avengers meeting!" He blusters instantly, and you roll your eyes.

"I'm not an Avenger," you remind him, tugging the door open. "Adios." You give a half salute before walking out, shaking your head at how stupid they all were.

People overcomplicate things.

"That girl I swear," Stark growls as he sees you disappear, crossing his black suited arms. "She doesn't care about anything!"

Bucky sighs, leaning back in his chair. Who had texted you? You'd tensed the moment you'd first looked at your phone, so something was bothering you. The way you'd walked out, all stiff, nervous --- he noticed, even if the others didn't.

Something's wrong.

~~~~~~~

You can't believe you're doing this.

You frown as you stand in front of your bakery, looking at the gutted remains. Your hands slip into your jacket pockets, and you lean back on your heels. This is a bad idea, you know it is. You shouldn't be here, you should've told someone --- yeah, but who? You don't exactly have any friends.

Bucky doesn't count; besides, he would have told you no.

You chew your lip nervously, then tug your phone from your back pocket. Well, it's already a few minutes after five, and you don't exactly see anyone around. This could just be a fluke, some stupid game, and you're the idiot for falling for it.

You sigh, and your fingers tap rapidly across your screen, sending a quick text to Bucky. You hadn't meant to be so abrupt leaving the meeting, but those texts had made you nervous. You'd paced about it all day, the kitten preoccupied with the new toys you'd bought him. He should be okay on his own for a few hours, but you still want Bucky to check on him.

You: can you check on firecracker for me? I'm gonna be at my bakery for a bit

You're honestly a little surprised Bucky knew how to use a cellphone, but it wasn't like he was incased in ice for the time he was brainwashed. He was up to date on technology, although you can't imagine it's easy to text with only one hand --- you don't suppose the metal fingers are much help on a touch screen.

Barnes: sure. Did we forget something?

You: just doing some scoping

You don't have a good excuse honestly. You click your screen, tapping your phone against your lips a few moments. The breeze catches your hair, brushing it off your shoulders; you'd put it up before you left, so it's in a long ponytail now, out of your way. You glance around, your skin crawling, as if someone is watching you.

The street isn't completely deserted, it has the normal occupants, although a lot of them are living in tents in the middle of the street. You send one of your neighbors a wave before you step into the bakery, tugging open the door; you almost feel silly for using it now.

You sigh as you step inside, seeing spiders are already taking occupancy in the corners.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," you murmur, walking around the corner. "I'm going to get this place fixed and you guys are gonna have to move out."

"Still bad mouthing the arachnids, I see."

Huh?

You twist from behind the counter, startled; the door didn't ding, so the person must have come through the giant fucking hole in the wall. So silent, though, you hadn't heard them.

You frown, twisting to face the person. They're wearing a baseball hat pulled low to hide their face, supporting the local ball team. They're clothing is average, red shirt beneath a brown jacket, old jeans over worn shoes.

"Who are you?" You ask warily, crossing your arms. "As you can see, we're closed."

"And still so sarcastic," the man sighs, but his voice is familiar. You tilt your head a little as he tugs on his cap, bringing it up so you can see his face. You tense immediately, staring at him in shock.

No.

No fucking way.

You take a step back instinctively, your flight mode immediately kicking in as you see the guy who'd put you in fifty thousand dollars worth of debt, the one who'd made you have to take a new identity before his fucking loansharks killed you!

"You!"

"Eloquent. You've really not changed any, Cora." Cody laughs, his blonde hair framing his tan face. His blue eyes are pale, and there's a scar across his nose from where he got beat up because he couldn't pay his loans. He was sent to prison from trying to rob a convenience store, and when he'd left, you'd gotten the brunt of his loans just because you were his girlfriend. You were twenty years old, trying to save up, working in a bakery part time.

You hadn't had that sort of cash.

"You shouldn't be out yet," you mutter, tense as he approaches the counter. His sentence was ten years, seven for good behavior, but it hasn't even been that long! He's older looking now, more mature, with broader shoulders and a less desperate look in his eyes. You'd met in a foster home, and your relationship had gone on from there.

"Turns out, people like me don't belong in prisons." Cody shrugs his shoulders as he presses his palms against the counter, glancing around your destroyed bakery. "When we get found out, we get drafted. Just like you did."

Just like... shit.

He knew about the Avengers.

What else did he know?

You narrow your gaze at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he lifted his hand, snapping his fingers; a small flame appeared above his nail, flickering bright orange and yellow in the dark room. "Turns out, people like my talents. They got me out of prison early."

"People like who?" you ask warily; your heart is beating hard in your chest, you feel like an idiot for not realizing who you'd be meeting. It seems so obvious now, this ex boyfriend who'd caused you so much grief.

"I'm not gonna tell ya," Cody shakes his head, the flame disappearing as he lowered his hand. "But they're interested in you too. They gave me all the details so I could find you."

Find.... fucking Hydra!

"Are you crazy?" you hiss immediately, your eyes flicking nervously to the front of the store. "Hydra?"

He couldn't be serious!

"Ah, so you know them, cool. But yeah. They got me out of prison within the first few years." Cody was always a talker, so you're not surprised you're going to get his whole "back story drama." You're not interested, the moment you realized who he worked for, you were ready to bolt. You couldn't leave out the back door, though, considering there was still a wrecked car smooshed against the other side.

"I don't care," you snap, restlessly shifting. "What do you want? I don't want anything to do with them!"

"Don't get all hasty, Cor. You don't want to make any kind of decisions like that spur of the moment." He says, glancing over his shoulder, and your eyes follow; did he bring others here?

"Please don't tell me you brought them here." Your voice tightens; you don't want to deal with that scary bald guy again!

"What? No way." Cody instantly shook his head. "I wanted this meeting to be between us. I mean we haven't seen each other in years!"

"It's not been long enough!" You hiss, glaring at him. "Do you know what sort of trouble you got me in, Cody? Those loan-sharks were going to kill me because of you! I had to disappear and I lost everything!"

"Hey, it looks like stuff worked out for you!" he defended himself. "You got yourself a fancy bakery now, dontcha? Don't be such a whiner!"

"Whin --- get the fuck out!" You snarl, feeling your temper flare. "I can't fucking believe you'd show your face after all these years! Did you think I'd just forgive you after what you did?"

"Well, I, uh, thought after all this time ---."

"Fuck you!" You take a step, tempted to drop the ceiling on his head. "You're so --- I can't believe you! What the hell is wrong with you? I never want to see you again, I told you that!"

"Yeah, in a shitty letter six years ago!" You're pissing him off, but you don't care! You stride around the counter, your eyes on the door. "You sent me a letter, you never even visited me in prison!"

"You're the one who was stupid enough to rob a store!"

"It was your fault! If you had come with me, everything would have been fine!"

"I told you I didn't want to do that anymore!" You hiss, your chest tightening; you'd done a lot of shady shit, but you'd had to to survive. You'd stopped when you'd gotten a steady job, when you hadn't been so worried about sleeping on the streets anymore. "I was tired of that sort of life! I had a job, we were going to be okay ---!"

"No we fucking weren't! Do you think that rent came easy for me, Cora?" Cody steps in front of you, blocking your way out. "I was trying my fucking hardest to make sure we survived! That shitty apartment was expensive, and ---."

"And we could have made it!" You press, wishing he'd understand. "We could have made it, and you never would have had to worry about taking out loans! What did you even need that much money for!? Did you really think we could pay it back!?"

"I --- I wanted to get us a house, alright?" Cody flushes, and you pause slightly, staring at him.

"What?"

"I wanted a house. Somewhere we could stay that didn't have rats, with an actual yard. I thought if I had enough money, that I could find us somewhere. Y'know, be normal."

Normal?

"We're not normal people, Cody." You mutter, shaking your head. "We weren't born that way."

"But it's what I wanted for us." He says, his shoulders slightly slumping, and your eyes flick nervously to his face. "I wanted normal. I wanted easy."

"Then you should have bought a house." You sigh, crossing your arms. "You shouldn't have gambled all that money away."

"I was a stupid kid, okay? I thought I could double it! Get enough to pay some of it back!"

"Well, it was foolish! Look at the trouble it got you in!"

"Well sorry I didn't have my head on my shoulders like you always did!" He snaps defensively, reminding you of how childish of a person he's always been. "I tried my best!"

You stare at him, feeling your chest start to hurt. You can't stand to look at him, it brings back too many memories. You need to go, you never should have come here. You never should have seen him again.

And Hydra?

How could he be so foolish?

They were awful!

Did he not know what they did?

You swallow, looking away from him.

"I need to go," you mutter, but his hand closes around your arm before you can.

"Cora, please," he begs, tightening his grip so you can't leave. "Let's just talk about this. Come back with me."

"No way!" You strain back from him, twitching at his touch; he'd always been too rough with you when you were dating, you realize that now. You know the signs of an abusive relationship. but as a kid he'd been all you had, the light in the darkness. He'd taken care of you, helped you get on your feet, made you realize you weren't the only freak in the world of normal people. You both had a gift, it's what brought you together --- ultimately, it destroyed you as well.

"Do you know what those people do?" You demand, wincing as his fingers dig into your jacket sleeve, your arm starting to ache. "What their plans are?"

"Some bullshit about taking over the world, yeah. It's not like they'll ever succeed." Cody snorts. "People won't let them. But they got me out of prison, I can't bounce on them, Cora."

You fucking hate that name!

Fuck it!

You'd changed your name twice since then, and lately you'd gotten used to hearing your birth name. Why did you think Cora was ever nice sounding?

You hate it so much.

"Just --- let go, Cody! I'm not going anywhere with a fucking idiot like you!" You finally wrench away, taking a few steps back. "Get out of here or move out of my way!"

"Don't turn me down," He presses, his entire body tensing. "Don't do that."

"I don't want anything to do with you!"

"Cor ---."

"Stop calling me that!" Your voice rises nearly into a shriek as you glower at him, and you see something move out of the corner of your eye. He's always been able to get under your skin, make you lose control; it's like he's your kryptonite. "Leave me alone!"

"Don't raise your voice at me! We both know this is the best option!"

"Stop trying to make choices for me that I don't want!" It's like deja vu as you hiss at him, taking another step back, trying to put some distance between you. You want to run away, you want to get as far as possible. You don't want anything to do with him, or those stupid Hydra people! They're all stupid and ridiculous and ---.

You run.

Cody's blocking the way to the front, so you turn tail, making a mad dash around the counters and towards the back. You're hoping you can just move the car with your power --- if you can take down an alien ship, this should be easy, right?

You make it around and to the kitchen door before he catches up with you, his hand latching onto the back of your jacket and dragging you back. You shriek in alarm as he slings you, causing your to crash into the wall so hard your head rings.

Shit!

You turn just as his hand presses by your face, the heat so hot from his palm you strain away.

"You have to come with me," he hisses, his hand still tight in your jacket. He presses harder against you, forcing you to stay against the wall. You could throw him across the room, out the window, into the sky if you wanted, and yet ---- you can't make anything work. Your eyes are wide in fear, and your throat is so tight you can't speak. You're frightened of him, that teenage fear is overwhelming you again.

In the beginning, you'd been afraid of losing him, but towards the end of your relationship --- you'd been afraid to even see him. He'd gotten rough, and although he'd never outright hit you, the grabbing, the jerking around and the yelling, it had gotten to be too much. You knew he was stressed back then, those sharks had been all over him for that money, but still, that was no excuse.

He was selfish.

You don't want him touching you.

"Get off me!" You snarl, your nails digging into the wall as you squirm. "Let go!"

"Come with me peacefully and this will be okay," He says, his voice inches from your ear. "If you don't, Hydra is going to get you kicking and screaming. If you come willingly, there won't be any problems."

"Fuck you!" How's that for eloquent?

You hear him give a frustrated sigh, and about the time you make the decision to bring your foot back as hard as you can, he's letting go of you with a gasp. You blink, your head turning as you see him go sailing into the kitchen with a flash of silver.

Eh?

You didn't do that.

Your head turns, eyes widening as you see what's happened.

"Bucky!" You shriek, seeing his metal hand wrapped around Cody's neck, lifting him up against a row of cabinets. Your ex boyfriend squirms, his hands wrapped around the metal wrist. Your eyes flick to Cody in fright before back to Bucky.

What the hell!?

"Put him down!" You gasp, hastily stepping up. Your hand curls around Bucky's shoulder, feeling the muscles strain at your touch. "Bucky!"

"No! Who the hell is this guy!?" Bucky demands, his blue eyes flicking to yours, jaw clenched. He'd thought something weird was going on, so he'd come to the bakery. He'd only caught the end of the conversation, heard you shriek and then saw this guy holding you against the wall. He's not sure why you didn't defend yourself, but he'd instinctively come to your rescue.

"I'm her boyfriend, asswipe," Cody rasps, his face turning a bright red. You can see blood on his lips, and you don't know if Bucky hit him or not.

"Boyfriend!?" Bucky seems startled.

"Ex!" You say hastily. "He's not --- that was years ago, he's ---."

You don't know what to say, this is turning to shit!

"Just put him down!" Your voice is strained, panicked --- what are you supposed to do?

Bucky hesitates, his metal grip flexing before he takes a step back, releasing Cody and letting him collapse to the ground. You stare at the blonde man, not going to his side, you don't care that much. He coughs, his hand rising to his throat in pain.

You're still holding onto Bucky.

Bucky turns to you, seeing your face is bloodless.

What the hell is going on?

Cody finally staggers to his feet, looking wounded. "You're gonna regret that," he growls, cutting his eyes at Bucky.

"Don't!" You snap, but Cody ignores you. His hand raises, and you feel Bucky tense, his body going rigid as flames suddenly eat at the blonde mans palm and fingers, lashing angrily up at the air. His arm sweeps in front of you, attempting to shield you; he always has to be a gentleman, doesn't he?

"Cody!"

"No one fucking touches me like that!"

Yeah right!

Your eyes flick to the faucet, and the squeaky knobs twist, water starting to trickle out of them. Cody glances over nervously before back at you.

"I'll do it," you warn him. "I'll drench you."

"Cora ---."

"Don't fucking call me that!" You hiss, pressing at Bucky's arm in front of you. "So help me God, I will drown you."

You remember exactly why you left him now.

Cody hovers a moment, and the water pressure increases. He winces, the flames immediately disappearing from the air, although the heat remains. He glances around nervously, and Bucky presses, forcing the two of you to step back.

Cody leaves.

He just --- he glances at you as he passes by, but he doesn't make another move. He just tucks his tail and escapes while he has a chance. His blue eyes are burned into your mind, though, the look in them --- nothing is ever easy, huh?

~~~~~~~

You step into your apartment, feeling exhausted. Bucky closes the door behind you, completely silent. He'd been quiet the entire walk home, and that's what makes everything worse; usually there's some small talk, a little chatter, not this --- cold shoulder?

It's making you even more tense.

You glance behind you, seeing a streak of orange as the kitten comes racing across the room. You kneel, catching him just as his teeth latch into your shoe laces. You sigh as you lift him up into your arms, not caring if you get orange hair all over your shirt.

"Hey, fireball," you mumble, rubbing his head until he purs. "You have fun by yourself?"

You walk to the kitchen, sitting him on the table as you go to get some milk, your mind buzzing. You don't want to think, you don't want to talk about what just happened. You want to go and get some milk, heat it, and give it to the kitten. You never want to explain to Bucky what just happened.

Ever.

Or anyone, for that matter.

Bucky waits, watching as you warm the milk, a blank look on your face. He's furious, his hands are clenched at his sides, and if he opens his mouth he knows he's going to say something he regrets. What the hell is going on with you? That guy was an ex? When? Where?

"(Y/N)."

You wince.

You lean down, setting the saucer on the tiled floor before reluctantly straightening and looking at him, twisting your fingers nervously.

"What?"

"Who was that?"

"That... that was..." You flounder a moment; what all did he hear? Did he know about Hydra? Hydra wasn't Bucky's problem, it's yours. You can handle them, you can run and find a nice place to hide --- Canada is nice this time of year.

You frown, glancing at the windows before you begin to shirk out of your jacket, tossing it along the back of a chair as your hands go to your hips.  

Well.

Shit.

What a day.

"He's... he should be in prison." You bite your lip, glancing nervously at Bucky as he neared you. He kept the table between the two of you, the sounds of the kitten lapping at milk the only noise. "He... I was a kid, and he was..."

You don't know where to start, you've never had to before.

You exhale heavily, pressing your hands against your face.

You can't do this.

You just need to go.

You need to get your things, and just leave.

"Did he hurt you?" Bucky asked after a moment, sounding startled. You lower your hands, blinking when he's already in front of you.

"What?"

He reaches forward, and you look down, seeing the vague marks on your arm where Cody had grabbed you. You wrinkle your nose, twisting, but they're not that bad; he didn't mean too.

Yeah, that's the line you need to repeat to yourself.

Bucky frowns, his fingers lightly brushing the marks. He doesn't like them on you, and he especially didn't like who put them there. It makes him angry, an anger that burns in the pit of his stomach for days. He wants to go back, hit that guy, make him whimper in pain.

"Don't worry about it," your voice interrupts his thoughts, his blue eyes flicking to your face. "I've had worse, obviously."

"That doesn't mean it should be there."

"Don't go all knight in shining armor on me, Bucky." You snap restlessly, stepping away from him; you don't like being so close. "Why were you even there, huh? Were you following me?"

"You acted weird today, I just wanted to make sure you were alright." He mutters, looking a little guilty. "Something was wrong."

Obviously.

"That gives you no right ---."

"Are you mad at me because I helped, or because I interrupted him?" Bucky snaps, the first time he's ever sounded cross with you. You dislike it instantly, it reminds you of the person he is, what he can do. You immediately don't like him angry, but you're not going to back down at all! You're tired of that!

"It was none of your business!"

"When it concerns Hydra, it's all of our business!" He spit back at you, seeing your face whiten.

He'd heard that?

You hadn't wanted him to know about that!

"It --- just --- just let it go!" You take another step back, your palms growing damp as you press them against your jeans. "Please, Bucky, just ---."

"You don't want me to tell, do you?" Bucky stares at you incredulously. "You're in danger, that man is Hydra, and he can ----."

"I know what he can do." Your face pinches. "Trust me. He's a danger to himself and everyone else, but he's supposed to be in prison! He shouldn't be out, he shouldn't ---."

You squeeze your eyes shut as you turn away from him, sucking in a deep breath. Even talking about it is hard!

"I just... I need to go." you finally say, opening your eyes, staring at the bare wall. "I just need to get out of here."

"You want to run." Bucky's voice is flat.

"I have too." You turn, gazing at him. "It's what I'm good at. I can get out of here, I can disappear again. He won't be able to find me this time, the ---."

"Hydra will always find you, no matter where you go." Bucky's voice is bitter, and that look is in his eyes again --- sad, wounded. "I've tried running, I've tried fighting, none of it works. This is the only place I've ever been where I've found some resemblance of peace."

You don't want to hear that.

"I don't want to be trapped here."

"You're not trapped. This isn't a prison."

"You say that, but I don't have a choice. I'll go to prison if I don't help you people," you mutter, tucking your hair behind your ears as it escapes your band. "If I don't stay around, Coulson will have me sent off for identity theft."

"No, he won't," Bucky crosses his arms. "He won't do it, he just says that. Besides, with your power, you have nothing to worry about. You can fight anyone off."

"But I don't want to hurt them. I just... I want to be left alone, why is that so hard?" Your voice is miserable, and your eyes are burning; all you've ever wanted was to have a bakery, a normal life, hand out treats to make people smile. It's the only way you know to make anyone happy, and it's all that you're good at. You've worked over a decade for it, and now it's all crumbling around you! Everything is going to hell and you don't know what to do!

What do you do!?

Your throat swells, and you hastily wipe at your eyes, but that doesn't stop the tears from falling. Bucky tenses the instant he sees the glisten on your cheeks, and the look in your eyes --- he knows that. You feel lost, devastated because everything you care about is crashing and burning around you.

He knows exactly.

"Don't do that," he mumbles, stepping up to you. He's not sure why his thumb brushes at your tears, why he feels such a strong need to comfort you. "Don't."

"So, sweet," you snort, cheeks heating in embarrassment. You don't mean to cry in front of him, that's not like you, they'd just --- happened. You feel miserable all over again, just like as a child. You can't seem to get your life together no matter what you do.

The moment Bucky mentions what happened, you'd never be able to leave the tower. Any sense of freedom you have would end, you'd be trapped. You want to be able to go outside, you want to be able to go out and get the things you want.

You want normal.

Why can't you have normal?

Tags:  @riegan, @miss-evil-one, @theonlyprincessoftheworld, @1voice-behind-the-silnce, @lilmissmoony, @lizandbooks, @sophia-wyszkowski, @isaxhorror, @shayx5, @theonlyprincessoftheworld, @iamwarrenspeace      @bigdaddyfairywinkle @itstrashleydude.   @davros2004. @vidiasnow.  @scarlet-witch-baby​.  @samijolles.   @soaringren.  @sophs-the-name.  @naturalistamisslyn     @sarahfhealy    @tienna-lauferson16    @fluentinfiction​

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fic #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #avengers #ex boyfriends #firepower #literal person with the power of fire #Telekenesis #bakery

[fandom-smut-shots]

Draco - Love Story

Title

Love Story

Pairing

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Fandom

Harry Potter

Summary

Request for MeganChiang

"Could you please write a Draco x anxious! Reader? Many many thanks."

Request for Kyo-Chi

"Could you please do a Draco x childhood friend reader, where she gets sorted into hufflepuff but they are still BFFs, even though she's befriended with the golden Trio without them knowing that Draco and her are BFFs. And Draco having a crush on her since they first met as kids so he gets a bit jealous when she spends a little bit to much time with Harry and Co. Only if you have some time of course. Just ignore this if you're too busy."

Draco had always been there. Since the day you met, the blond was by your side, keeping you company and making you smile. He was your rock, the only person who could bring you out of your shell and make you feel comfortable in your own skin. You'd always been shy and awkward, and when you both started school, your anxiety kicked in. You preferred to hide in the background, whereas your best friend was open and outgoing. Draco helped you to meet new people, and should anyone dare tease your shyness, the blond was ready and willing to defend you by any means necessary.

When you were sorted into Hufflepuff, you worried that your friendship with Draco would come to an end. You knew how strict his father was - being a pureblood Slytherin was everything. Nothing else mattered.

But as you sat on your stool and listened to the Sorting Hat shout out your house, Draco smiled up at you, clapping and cheering because he knew in his heart that you were meant to be a Hufflepuff.

Over the next few years, as puberty came into focus, you began harboring a crush on your childhood friend. You thought it futile and never mentioned it. You knew how Lucius was raising Draco - the boy would be disowned if he fell for someone outside of Slytherin. You were only allowed to be friends as children because you were a pureblood.

Draco was your best friend. He would always be your best friend. But you wanted more than that, and you knew there was no way you'd be able to live watching him fall in love with anyone else.

Unbeknownst to you, Draco was in the same boat. He watched as you befriended Harry and his comrades, and his blood boiled. But this time, it had nothing to do with his petty hatred of the Chosen One. A distinct, unfamiliar twinge stabbed his heart every time he saw you chatting and giggling with the Golden Trio.

Jealousy.

Draco had hoped against hope that you would be sorted into Slytherin with him. He didn't think it was the place for you, but he wanted you to be close to him always. How was he supposed to make a move when you were in another house - a house that he wasn't even allowed to fraternize with unless he wanted to invoke the wrath of his father?

The blond had been crushing on you since you were children. When you started school, he assumed the tingly sensation would fade away, believing it to be a silly childhood crush. But instead it grew stronger, to the point that every time you were around, he was certain you could hear how hard his heart pounded.

The annual visit to Hogsmeade Village was approaching. Everyone had gotten their permission slips signed, and your friends were already partnering up. Harry had already asked Ginny to spend the trip by his side, and Hermione was growing impatient with Ron's lack of asking her.

You sat in the library with your friends. You were meant to be studying, but good luck getting any work done with Ron and Seamus around. Though you were a Hufflepuff, you spent most of your time with Harry and friends. Your housemates were nice, but you didn't have the connection with them that you had with Hermione and Ginny.

Of course, none of that compared to your friendship with Draco. But your new friends were blissfully unaware of that comradery.

"Who are you looking to spend the Hogsmeade trip with, (Y/n)?" Seamus' voice brought you out of your mind palace.

"Hmm?" you replied lamely. "Oh, I don't know. I'll just wander around with whoever's left, I suppose."

"You don't fancy anyone?" Ginny inquired.

A blush dusted your cheeks, but you couldn't possibly tell them the truth. With a half hearted shrug, you answered, "No, not really."

The way Ginny's eyes narrowed told you that she didn't believe you, but neither she nor anyone else pushed the matter.

Hours later, your friends had slowly dispersed, leaving you alone in the library. With a glance to the window, you saw that it was nearly dark. You stuffed your books into your messenger bag and slung it over your shoulder as you rose from your seat.

On your way out of the library, you nearly collided with another student. Glancing up at the taller, you immediately recognized his neatly combed platinum locks.

"Draco!" you beamed. You hadn't been able to spend much time with him as of late.

He smiled softly, your excitement giving him the boost of confidence he needed to carry out the reason he'd come looking for you. "Hey, (Y/n). I have a question for you."

Your head tilted in curiosity as you gazed up at him. "What is it?"

"Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me? I mean, spend the trip with me, instead of your friends?"

Your eyes widened. "Like... a date?"

His heart hammered against his ribs as he nodded. "Yes. Like a date."

Your smile grew wider. "Draco, I'd love to."

He grinned, pulling you into a hug. You buried your face in his neck, resisting a giggle.

"I should get to my dorm," you murmured, reluctantly pulling back.

He nodded, resting a hand on your cheek before letting it fall. "I'll see you on Saturday."

You nodded eagerly. "Saturday."

The trip finally came, and students gathered outside the castle in a mob of sweaters and scarves. After handing McGonagall your permission form, your (E/) eyes darted around in search of a certain blond.

An arm draped around your shoulders and you nearly jumped before recognizing the scent of sandalwood and apples that could only be Draco.

You turned to look up at him, holding his gloved hand with your own in order to keep his arm in place. He grinned at your approval, tugging you close to him before beginning to walk down the path.

He kept asking where you wanted to go, but you would simply shrug in response. You didn't like asking for things, so you let Draco lead you through the shops.

He eventually sauntered into a small store that sold jewelry and other wearable merchandise. You were unaware of the stormy blue eyes watching your every move, paying attention to which pieces of jewelry you picked up and inspected.

While you were distracted looking at sweaters, Draco made his move. Be shuffled up to the counter, asking that his purchase be placed in a decorative box. With an out-of-character "Thank you," he stuffed the box into his jacket pocket before returning to your side.

"Ready to go?" he asked. "I was thinking we could head to the Three Broomsticks for a couple of butterbeers."

You nodded. "That sounds nice."

He wrapped his arm around you once more and led you out.

Once at the inn, he led you to a table and sat down beside you. He liked keeping his arm around you, and you certainly didn't mind snuggling into his warmth.

After your drinks arrived, Draco turned to look at you. "I got you something."

Your brow furrowed. "You did?"

He nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the box. Chewing your lip, you lifted the lid, peering at the trinket inside.

Lying on a bed of cotton was the silver and (f/gemstone) necklace you'd been eyeing at the store. "How did you-"

"I pay attention," he chuckled. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," you smiled. You then placed the necklace in his hand and held up your hair. "Put it on me?"

A smile danced on his lips as he clasped the chain around your neck. With a happy hum, you sipped your butterbeer and settled back into his side. His arm secured around you, and there you stayed until it was time to return to Hogwarts.

#draco malfoy #Draco x Reader #Harry Potter #harrypotter #reader insert