#'whats going on with the gun?' i don't know i wasn't doing gun studies

[bigmeandragonlady]

practice with briony + some shepherd hands

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Guardian Angel

CW: Stalking, people breaking into your apartment (Arkham Knight and others), people brushing off an obvious issue, and violence. Be warned, there are no angels in Gotham. ~2.2k words

You have a stalker. Probably. Maybe. If you do, they're so good at covering their tracks that you're starting to believe you're just paranoid.

But it's the odd events, the trinkets moved slightly out of place, that have you checking over your shoulder.

There wasn't even any evidence at first. Your day had been completely normal. All you were doing was cooking dinner, when your nerves went on end, and goosebumps rose on your skin. The feeling of being watched, of being prey set in.

It didn't make sense, didn't have a reason, but you closed your curtains and triple checked your locks nonetheless. (The bat you keep by your bed slept next to you that night)

You would have forgotten about the incident entirely if, a week later, the same feeling crept up your spine while you walked home. You'd never walked faster to get to your building. You'd practically sprinted up the stairs to your apartment, and slammed to the door behind you.

Even within your home, it took almost the whole night for the feeling to fade.

Two times could be a coincidence, but then things started getting stranger.

You could have sworn you left your keys on the counter the night before, so why, why did you find them on the coffee table?

It makes you uneasy, almost sick, but you're already late to work. So you do the only thing you can, you brush it off.

Until it happens. A thing you can't brush off.

You knew you had used the last of the sugar yesterday. Knew it because you had made a mental note to pick some up the next time you went to the store.

But there's sugar. It's not a lot. Just enough to get you through a few days. Enough to make you think you might have just missed the last of it.

You know you're right. You know you were out of sugar and even if your coworkers laugh and tell you to get more sleep, that having an angel that refills your sugar can't be that bad, you know someone's been in your apartment.

You set traps, set cameras, get your locks changed, take note of everything. You don't get any evidence.

But you notice that your window doesn't squeak anymore when you open it. Your shower doesn't rattle when you go to start it. Your oven actually heats up to the temperature you set it to.

It's been like this for months now. And you're starting to believe that Gotham does have its own set of angels that go around trying to make your life a little easier.

That is until, you meet him.

You'd been unlucky. Gotten grabbed and dragged into the alley by your apartment by some haggard looking man waving a gun. It wasn't the first time you'd been mugged in Gotham, and you doubted it would be the last.

You had reluctantly pulled your wallet and phone out of your pockets and handed them off when an armored-clad person dropped between the gun and you.

At first, it was a relief. Being saved by Batman or Nightwing is practically a rite of passage in Gotham.

But then you watched the would-be mugger hit the ground with a sickening crunch of his arm. Then you watched your savior turn to face you, and you knew it was him.

You didn't have an explanation, you didn't have proof. You'd never even seen a glimpse of the helmet that hid his face before. But you knew. He's the one that's been following you. He's the one that's been in your home.

No amount of good deeds can overshadow how violating it feels, to know he's been watching you, observing you, doing things for you. You instinctively step back.

He only matches the distance you tried to create with a step of his own.

"Who are you? What do you want," You snap, sounding braver than you feel.

He doesn't answer at first, just tilts his head like he's studying you. You think it might be because he's never seen you think close before.

"I saved you," he says instead, completely avoiding your question. You wonder if he's expecting to be treated like a hero, if he's looking for your praise. It makes your stomach churn.

"You've been following me. You're the one who's been in my apartment," You protest, eyes darting.

You half expect someone to come help you. With the way he's dressed, with how he's carrying himself, he has to be some kind of new villian you missed on the news.

He straightens out at your accusation, "Have I?"

You almost falter, almost do chalk it up to paranoia, but you just knew. Every fiber of your being knows, "Yes," You breathe out instead, "You have."

He nods slowly, then turns his back to you. A part of you wants to run, to try and escape and scream and get as far away from the man who feels like he could make you disappear without a trace.

He bends down and scoops up your phone and wallet before turning back to you. You freeze when he walks closer, each step steady and measured, then extends your belongings to you. Your hand shakes when you snatch at them.

You half expect him to yank them away, to make you beg, but he doesn't. He only keeps his grip tight on them, forcing you to be connected while you tug helpless at your things.

He watches you with his head slightly cocked before speaking again, "And if I have?"

He's easy, robotic cadence makes your blood grow cold, "Then you should stop," You retort, voice as cold as your veins.

"And if I won't," he prompts, finally releasing his hold on your things.

"I'll go to the police," You threaten, stuffing your wallet and phone back into your pockets.

"They can't help you," he warns. It makes you uneasy, that he makes no attempt to keep space between you. Even if his body language doesn't seem dangerous, everything else about him does.

"They can contact Batman," You try instead.

He laughs. It sounds humorless, empty, "He can't help you either."

You lose your nerve then, when he pats your cheek, and the guns holstered to his side seem to glint at you. "Get home," he tells you, and it makes you feel like you're some kind of pet.

And then he's gone, leaving you to an alley empty of anything, save for you and the mugger crumpled to the ground. All you can do is go home. Sleep doesn't come for you that night.

He's sloppy, now that he knows you know. You can tell it's on purpose.

Flashes of glowing blue outside your window, your things carelessly shifted about your apartment, the broken fan that hasn't worked since you moved in left on and spinning when you come home from work.

The only place he hasn't seemed to touch is your bedroom. You're not sure if it's because he's showing some slightest form of respect or if he's simply too good at hiding his tracks for you to notice.

Both options make you feel anxious, and you constantly comb over your things for proof of his presence.

You rack your brain over it, lose sleep over it, but you can't come up with one idea of who he is and why he's doing this.

There's nothing on him in the news, nothing on the internet, not even a whisper on the streets.

It feels like it's all one big, sick game to him when your favorite flowers start showing up at your door, when your gas tank fills itself.

When you tell your coworkers, in a near panic, about your rent being mysteriously paid, they tell you it's harmless, it's kind of sweet, really.

Shouldn't you just be grateful that someone's doing all that for you? Shouldn't you be thankful to have an angel looking out for you in this city?

But you know it's not harmless. You know he's capable of so much more. You know he's no angel.

The sound of the mugger's arm snapping still haunts you.

But you don't know what to do. You're stuck, on edge, and slowly coming to terms with having to live like this forever.

That is, until your bad luck seems to get even worse. You were in your pajamas, already half asleep as you're lounging on your couch, when your world gets thrown into chaos.

There's a click in your apartment door's lock, and you have the terrifying realization that tonight's the one night you'd forgotten to throw the deadbolt.

"I told ya I could get the keys to this floor. And barely anybody lives in this building afta what happen ta Murphy," the heavy Gotham accent fills your apartment and three men file into your living room like they own it.

They freeze when they see you, and you don't hesitate to sprint for your fire escape.

You've just managed to throw your window open when one of them grabs you around the middle and hauls you back, throwing you to the floor. Your head knocks against the ground, and everything spins.

You think you whimper as they start bickering. "You said no one would be here!"

"They weren't supposed ta be! It's all supposed ta be empty," one of them snaps back. It only makes your head pound and your vision swim.

You try to push yourself off the floor, but a boot lands at the center of your back and forces you back to the ground, "We have to kill them."

Murmurs of reluctance fill the room, and for a second, you think you'll get to live.

"They saw our faces," You hear the telltale sound of a gun clicking off its safety, "I'll do it."

You flinch with the shot sounds, but no more pain comes. The weight comes off your back, and a body collapses to the floor next to you.

You lift your head just enough to see a familiar blur of blue charge at the remaining two men.

It's not so much of a fight as it is an execution. It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but anything you can't see you can hear.

There's no mercy in his actions, all wrath and fury, and you want to laugh because, in a way, he is your guardian angel. An avenging angel, pummeling the people who threatened you into something unrecognizable.

You're sure how long it lasts, how long you hear his fists connect to their flesh. But eventually, your apartment goes quiet. The sound of fabric shuffling reaches your ears, and calloused hands carefully help you move until you're sitting up.

Warm palms press to your face you realize he's taken his gloves off. You force your eyes to open, morbidly curious if he's removed his helmet, too. You're not sure why you're disappointed he hasn't.

"Saved me again," You mumble, words almost slurring.

"You're not safe here," he says softly, and his thumb runs over your cheek like he's trying to comfort you.

"They didn't think anyone lived here," You supply, but he apparently doesn't find that very reassuring.

"Let's get you out here," he says instead, and you blame it on your head injury for being impressed at how he doesn't show any signs of struggling when he picks you up and cradles you to his chest.

"Don't have anywhere to go," you say weakly, mentally trying to do the math on how much a safe hotel would cost at this time of night.

The moonlight seems to give his helmet an odd shine as you stare hazily at him. It almost looks like a halo.

"I have a place," he tells you, already carrying you out of your apartment window.

That snaps you out of your thoughts. It makes you frown, even in your dazed state, you know you don't want to go with him. That even with the trick of the light, he's no angel.

You start to squirm, "No– no, wait–"

"You need somewhere safe to recover," he says, and he doesn't seem to notice your fidgeting. Your heart leaps to your throat, at how securely he's holding you. With anyone else, it would have felt like a promise of protection.

"I don't trust you, you're not safe," You stumble out, head growing heavy with each step he takes from your apartment.

"No one's safe. But I don't have any plans on hurting you," he murmurs, seemingly more occupied with getting you to wherever he's planning to take you.

"But you could," You exhale out, and your voice sounds weak even to yourself.

That makes him pause, and his helmet tips as if he's focusing on you, "Maybe, but I wouldn't like it."

You want to argue more, demand he set you down. But your brain feels so foggy, and you're so tired and drained that your head just kind of finds itself on his shoulder.

"You can sleep," he says, and your eyes fall shut at how soft he sounds, "I'll keep watch."

You really do want to protest, but his shoulder is surprisingly comfortable. You can't help but think, as you drift off, that your angel might have fallen far lower than you can handle.

[satuguro]

⠀⠀ ⠀ཾ ༚ 20/20 VISION

lalala! ethan landry x okokok! reader

#SYNOPSIS— based off of see you again by tyler the creater & kali uchis; you have no gag reflex, ethan tells a sex joke, and ethan takes a leap of faith.

#CONTAINS— best friends to lovers, mutual pining, jealousy, emetophobia, fluff

#AUTHORSNOTE— i've been wanting to write fluff lately so.. here you go xx

your unofficial designated spot in the carpenter sisters' apartment was their armchair in their living room.

you had a list of reasons why; one, it meant more space. you could stretch your legs, not worry about feeling someone's feet near your legs, and you could have your own blanket. all somewhat selfish reasons, but you loved your space. two, it had the perfect angle towards the t.v. that gave you the best spot in the living room to watch it without worrying about discomfort.

which was why you would've been mildly perturbed that someone was standing between you and the t.v. the only difference was that it wasn't just someone; it was someone who rambled too often, who had no sense of personal space while also being hyper aware of it, and who was a flurry of random facts (which wouldn't help him at all, unless someone held a gun to his head and told him to name and point at every country’s capital in the world).

"i've done it," ethan announced to you, his signature toothy smile seemingly more victorious as he looked down at where you were snuggled up on the couch. his well manicured nails (he asked you to do them once, and who were you to deny your best friend?) held his laptop, the screen facing his chest.

"aren't you supposed to be studying?" you asked him with a small tilt of your head, glancing at where the rest of the group was. finals week was beating everyone up, and you could briefly see mindy and chad chugging a redbull at the same time while tara timed them, before you turned back to your best friend.

"i gave up."

"you need to study."

"you gave up, too!" ethan looked down at the huge blanket that you hogged for yourself, not even thinking twice before he was climbing in next to you.

"ow— ethan!" you groaned, feeling him step on your leg.

"'scuse me!" ethan forced himself under the blanket you were snuggled under, making you share your beloved armchair with him before he sighed contentedly. "this is comfortable! maybe i should share this seat with you more often!" he said with a bright grin, making you sigh reluctantly. "i mean if you don't want to then it's fine too!" ethan added hurriedly with wide eyes.

"i was just saying that i wouldn't mind sharing with you because usually you sit alone— which i know you prefer, you've told me so many times and i get it! i really do! but i wouldn't mind sitting with you to keep you company because i really like being with you— around you. your presence. yeah, that." ethan rambled, finishing his string of words with a sheepish smile, cheeks flaring a bit red. "i'm sorry for rambling." he added quietly.

your usually tired eyes softened at that. he had always been insecure of how much he talked, you knew that better than anyone. "i've told you before, e, i don't mind. i like listening to you," you hummed, a downturned smile on your lips. "i like your presence too. and i guess i don't mind sharing my seat with you."

ethan's cheeks flared red at your casual words. you had a way of speaking so calmly, as though all your words were chosen well. in a way, he was a bit jealous.

"you had something to tell me, yeah?" you asked him softly, bringing him back on track.

"oh, right!" ethan showed you his laptop, setting it up on your legs. it was a notion list, color coordinated and everything, with an entire list of shows and movies you remember only briefly mentioning to him. "i made this list—"

"just now? instead of studying?"

"yes! so basically, it has a section where we can rate it after we watch it, and it's all organized by what we want to watch the most and what we need to finish!" ethan scrolled down the list, practically buzzing with excitement (and the cold brew he drank earlier).

"see? i know that i have a whole essay to do but i can do it later—" ethan said, waving it off with his hand. "because i know you said you would do it but i got impatient and did it instead! and look—" he showed you the wide variety of colors for every row. "they're color coordinated! and here's how i think the rating system should go—"

you had watched ethan talk the entire time he rambled, your usually tired and indifferent eyes softening when you listened to him speak. he talked fast— too fast for some people, but you liked that about him—but the way he rambled showed how passionate he was about different topics, because ethan only rambled when he cared.

it showed how much he appreciated what he was talking about. and ever time his cadence picked up and his words became jumbled and he began interrupting himself, you could see how ethan's brown eyes would shine with excitement. you could see how he began incorporating his hands to his words, how his lips tilted up when he talked.

you were so engrossed in ethan's explanation of the movie and t.v. show list that you failed to notice your friends staring at you from the dining table.

"they are disgustingly cute," tara said with a sigh.

"and disgustingly oblivious," mindy grumbled, clicking her pen over and over. "with how smart the both of them are, i'm surprised they haven't picked up on the clues." she turned to chad, who was sulking after losing the redbull chugging competition against her. "have you asked ethan about it yet? you're our in on this, chad!"

chad groaned as mindy nudged him with her shoulder. "i did. he didn't even respond. it's crazy how he can avoid conversations, you know."

you didn't like parties. not as much as your friends did— you were usually the designated driver or the friend that was always sober enough to take care of their friends, which you didn't mind. it was the socializing part that you minded.

you socialized okay, but you often just ended up listening to other people rather than talking. listening was more your style, but you were only a little awkward when it came to talking to complete (and possibly intoxicated) strangers at parties. you stuck with your group of friends and very rarely strayed away.

but ethan was the designated sober friend this time around, so maybe that would change.

three loud knocks to your dorm room made you go and open it, coming eye to eye with ethan. "you're walking me there?" you asked with a knowing smile, making the boy nod eagerly.

"yup! chad's walking with tara and mindy's going with anika, so that leaves you and me." ethan grinned at you teasingly. "why, you're getting tired of me already?"

"no," you hummed, closing your dorm room behind you as the both of you began to walk down the hall. "you're really not drinking tonight, huh?"

"nope!" ethan replied, popping the 'p'. "after i threw up all over sam that one time we drank at the apartment, and then i threw up on you right after, i told myself that i'd hold back on it."

you wrinkled your nose at the memory. "how responsible of you."

"i know, right?" ethan said with a proud smile. "but because i threw up on you that time, i give you full permission to throw up on me this time."

"i'm not gonna be that drunk."

that was a lie.

to say that your friends were shocked to see you become a more extraverted person after drinking would be an understatement. they were used to you observing the group and contributing to conversations with sarcastic comments, dry humor, and dark jokes that are often made much too soon. so to see you take a shot with tara and squeal happily with her (true friend solidarity; she was as drunk as you were) was completely out of the ordinary.

"i'm gonna go find chad!" tara yelled over the music, making you nod happily and watch her leave. adrenaline and excitement began to thrum through your body stronger, and your first thought was to share it with your favorite person. you began to walk around, searching for ethan, before you bumped into a chest.

"oh, shit! i'm so sorry," the guy laughed, making you send him an apologetic smile.

"it's okay!" you said, taking in his black hair and his brown eyes (that only reminded you of ethan). "i'm y/n!"

the guy smiled at you, offering his hand out. "jaden!" he seemed to be as intoxicated as you were, his steps wobbling slightly as you shook his hand. "do you, uh, wanna dance?"

"hey, where's y/n?" ethan asked tara as she passed him, making her look back towards the drinks table.

"she should just be around where the drinks are.." tara's voice trailed off when her eyes landed on you not too far away. your arms were around a guy's neck— was that jaden from her philosophy lecture? —as you swayed with him to the music. you seemed to be having a good time, the alcohol making you lighthearted as you sang with whatever song was playing through the speakers. "there she is!"

when ethan saw you, his heart fell. you looked so beautiful under the multicolored lights, your hair perfectly styled and your clothes fitting you perfectly as you danced with someone who wasn't him. your smile— your genuine one, ethan noted with his chest aching, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your smile lopsided —was pointed towards someone who wasn't him.

jealousy brewed in his chest along with the heartache, ethan's jaw clenching as he stared at you and the random guy. but he didn't step in. he didn't pull you away and declare his feelings for you, because at the end of the night, you were happy. content as you danced with someone who wasn't ethan at all.

chad came up next to tara, his arm over her shoulders as he steadied her. "hey man, where's y/n?" he asked, still fairly sober than everyone as he had only taken one shot.

"she's doing fine," ethan said, his voice monotone as he continued staring at you. it was unfair how beautiful you looked while you unknowingly broke his heart with every laugh and every flirtatious smile you sent towards your dance partner.

"what?" chad looked in the direction ethan was staring, his face falling when he saw you and jaden. easily connecting the dots, he looked at ethan empathetically. "fuck. dude, i'm sorry."

"it's okay, really," ethan said with a tight lipped smile. but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you and him, the fact that you looked so happy pulling at his chest because he wanted you to be happy with him. he wanted you to look at him the way you looked at that random stranger.

and finally, as you did a twirl into jaden’s arms, you made eye contact with ethan. oblivious to the way his jaw clenched and his eyes lost the spark they usually had, you gently pulled yourself out of jaden's arms. your steps were wobbly, and you nearly crashed into ethan's chest when you finally walked up to him. ethan's arms went to steady you easily.

"ethan, i feel like throwing up," you murmured, and ethan nodded in understanding, worry taking over his jealousy.

"okay, let's get you to the bathroom, okay?" ethan said softly, pulling you close to him as he guided you to the bathroom. he knocked on the door, thankful no one responded, before he opened it for you. he locked the door behind the both of you as you made a beeline for the toilet, grabbing the side of it as you readied yourself to throw up.

but nothing came out.

“go on!” ethan encouraged you, motioning to the toilet. but instead, you looked up at him warily.

“do i have to?”

“yes?” ethan gaped at you, motioning to the toilet again. “just go ahead! nothing to fear!”

“i don’t want to.”

“c’mon, y/n, why not?” ethan whined, making you groan as you stopped yourself from throwing up yet again.

“i have emetophobia, asshole,” you muttered, gently pushing his arm. “fear of throwing up? and,” you messily pushed some of your hair away from your face. “i have no gag reflex.”

“what the hell?” ethan crinkled his nose, blushing furiously as he looked at you in shock. you were honest, sure but never this honest. “i could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that.”

“are you sure?”

“what?” ethan said quickly, eyes wider than ever as he stared at you as you snorted in amusement. “you’re kidding.”

“maybe.”

“maybe?” he swallowed thickly, shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge. “oh god, you definitely have to throw up now.”

“watch this.” you took two of your fingers and stuffed them all the way to the back of your throat, smiling triumphantly as you showed ethan your lack of a gag reflex.

ethan could only watch in horror and exasperation. “y/n, i didn’t need proof. i already believed you.” he took some squares of toilet paper before offering it to you.

“i told you so,” you hummed, pulling your saliva covered finger out of your mouth and wiping them on the toilet paper. there was a beat of silence before ethan coughed, his cheeks and ears still burning red.

“can i make a joke?”

“of course you can.”

“it’s a, uh,” ethan cleared his throat, avoiding your intent gaze, “sex joke.”

“even better.” you situated yourself next to the toilet, still very much feeling like you were gonna hurl at any given moment.

ethan sat next to you, clearing his throat again. “i know one way we can test your gag reflex,” he stated, almost ashamed at his own joke.

you chuckled at that, the horrible joke making a you sway a bit with laughter before the sudden motion sickness got to you. without another word, you threw up into the toilet. all thanks to ethan’s horrible sex joke.

he immediately reached over to move some of your hair. you continued retching into the toilet, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "i hate drinking," you grumbled as you laid your forehead on your arm, eyes watery from throwing up. immediately as you got the words out, you threw up again.

"i know, i know.. but i know you're gonna end up drinking again," ethan teased softly, making your back heave as you managed a laugh, only for it to be interrupted by you throwing up again. "it's okay, let it all out." he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips. “i can’t believe a sex joke made you throw up.”

and you almost laughed again if you didn’t throw up even more.

the sound of the party died into the background as ethan sat next to you on the ground. your head was laying on your arm, which was on the toilet seat. you were still intoxicated, and the world was still spinning, but you could see the obvious turmoil on ethan's face. you poked his arm. "what's wrong?"

"what?" ethan said, snapping out of his daze to send you a tight lipped smile. "nothing's wrong."

"liar."

"i'm not!"

"i know you better than that, e," you murmured, half lidded eyes staring at him. you had thrown up most of your alcohol, and while you were still inebriated, you felt a lot more clear headed than earlier. “what's wrong?"

ethan looked at you, eyes flashing with hurt as he pictured you again dancing with someone else. "do you really want to know?" he asked you, and you nodded. even while drunk, you opted to listen.

"you looked beautiful when you were dancing," ethan began, managing a soft smile, "i don't think i've ever seen you like that. it's not a bad thing or a good thing, but it's a new thing, y'know?" he sighed. "you dance really well, i'm surprised you haven't told me," a genuine smile appeared on his face when he heard you laugh quietly. "and your laugh.. i swear i would listen to it over whatever horrible music is playing right now."

ethan looked at you, taking in your obviously roughed up and intoxicated form. but somehow, even with slightly messy hair and most of your make-up rubbed off and with your breath smelling only a little bit like puke, you still looked beautiful. it was enough to make someone who talked as much as him to go quiet in awe.

"but when you laughed, and when you smiled,�� ethan said slowly, taking in heavy breaths with every word. fear thrummed through his body, mingling with the nervousness as he twiddled with his fingers anxiously. to continue on would be to admit everything. to admit how he felt, the thoughts he had been having about you, everything. and to admit it to you would be to risk losing a friendship and one of the most important people in his life.

“.. you weren’t smiling or laughing at me. and i hated that.”

confusion spread over your face before realization hit your eyes. “oh.” and oh, it suddenly all made sense. why ethan was so bothered, why you were so willing to listen to one person speak for forever as long as it was them, why even as you danced with another, something was off because he wasn’t ethan. he wasn’t your best friend.

“you don’t have to say anything,” ethan mumbled, completely misinterpreting your realization for rejection. his eyes watered slightly as he avoided your gaze. “it’s been going on for a while now, and i get it if you don’t feel the same! i really do, it’s just,” he sighed shakily, “i don’t want to lose you—”

“ethan—”

“i was completely willing to just shut up about how i felt as long as that meant i could still have you in my life, y/n,” ethan said, looking into your eyes earnestly. “and i thought i could keep it under wraps but i have to tell you at least once because—”

“i love you.”

“what?” ethan blinked, making you smile, your head still resting on your arm.

“i love you, ethan.”

a toothy smile spread over his face at that, his shoulders relaxing as he searched your face for any doubt. “are you— are you sure?”

“i wouldn’t say it if i wasn’t,” you murmured softly as you raised your head, making ethan laugh in relief.

“holy shit— i love you too.” ethan said, leaning forward, only for you to stop him.

“e, i might throw up on you if you kiss me.”

“do you think i care?”

[vivwritesfics]

Military Flyover

The dagger squad don't want to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas grand Prix. None of them really knew much about and, those that did only really knew about Nascar.

She hated the Vegas Grand Prix as much as those doing the military flyover. But the cute WSO there to support his friends was making it bearable.

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x F1 driver!reader

5.6K

a/n: yes a military flyover doesn't make sense for vegas buuuut let a girl dream lol - i'm hoping I've managed to write this for an audience that might not really know f1 but idk how confident i am in my abilities lol

Bob couldn't quite believe what the two time Top Gun graduates were having to do. They had completed an insanely dangerous mission and returned to be permanently stationed in San Diego, except from when they were called away for deployment.

They were a part of the military, why were they doing this?

Well, at least Bob didn't have to actually fly. He was a Weapon Systems Officer, he didn't have to take part in this. But he still went, more to morally support his squad.

Nat wasn't happy about have to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. She, Bradley and Jake were constantly complaining. None of them knew anything about Formula One, not enough to appreciate doing the flyover.

(May I just say, even if they did know about F1, they still wouldn't appreciate it. They'd train for years to be in the navy and now they were having to waste their time on this.)

The flyover was on the Sunday. Only Natasha, Jake and Bradley were taking part. Bob didn't have to go, didn't have to visit the track on the Friday and the Saturday with the three of them.

But Natasha had begged him. "Drive up with me," she'd said to him. "It's five hours and I could use the company."

So, Bob agreed. His dad had sometimes watched Nascar while he was growing up. He didn't know much of anything about motorsport but, if Nat wanted him there, he'd go.

The navy pilots didn't know they'd been invited to meet the drivers. Bob followed Natasha through the paddock. "Getting to meet the drivers might be the only good thing thing to come from this," Nat mumbled as she led the way.

The paddock was buzzing with life. There were cameras following people around, interviews happening as they walked through the paddock. Fans stopped men in team shirts and hats for pictures before letting them continue.

There was a familiar whistle, just loud enough for Natasha and Bob to hear over the crowd around them. They turned and saw Rooster and Hangman striding towards them.

"Where are we meant to be?" Asked Hangman as Rooster pulled off his aviators and looked around. The three of them (Natasha, Jake and Bradley) were in their overalls, looking proper in their uniform. Bob, though. He was dressed down, wearing jeans and a sweater (Vegas really wasn't that warm this time of year), his military issued glasses sitting on his nose. He looked cute, even if he didn't know it.

"Cyclone said the Ferrari garage, right?" She said as she looked between the other aviators. Bob, who had studied the itinerary, nodded his head and the four of them set off towards the red garage.

***

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was a joke. All of the drivers thought so.

The Ferrari drivers weren't happy about it (just like the rest of the grid). They had spent the season struggling behind the Red Bulls and driving on an unknown track wasn't going to help that.

She needed a lot of mental preparation for this one. Just like the other drivers, before the first practice session her only experience on the track had been through sim racing. She was nervous in a way she hadn't been before.

She donned her red fireproofs, the overalls hanging from from her hips. She pulled her cap onto her head when there was a knock on her driver room door. "Yeah?" She called and the member of Ferrari staff walked in.

"The navy pilots are on their way," she said and went to back out of the drivers room.

"What?" The Ferrari driver called suddenly, her brows furrowed. "What navy pilots?"

The member of staff gulped. "They're doing a military flyover before the Grand Prix," she said. "They're on their way here to meet you and Charles," she said.

The driver let out a huff. She grabbed her drinks bottle and marched out of her drivers room, heading to find her teammate.

Charles was doing an interview for Sky Sports when she walked through the garage. She didn't much care, though. She powered on, her hand on Charles's shoulder as she stood at his side. "Chuck," she said, looking at her teammate.

Lawrence Barretto moved his microphone back to his mouth. "Is that his official name for the Vegas Grand Prix?" He asked and moved the microphone towards her.

"Yes," she said as Charles shook his head, repeatedly saying 'no'.

She stood beside him until the interview was over, answering any question Lawrence sent her way. As soon as they were done she grabbed Charles and pulled him away, pulling him further into the Ferrari garage.

"What's up?" Charles asked. He was a brilliant teammate, one of her best friends. They'd known each other for yeas and were close enough for people to think they were together at one point. Brocedes 2.0, many commented on the pictures of the two of them posted on the Scuderia Ferrari Instagram account, as if they were a disaster waiting to happen.

"Did you know we're having to meet the navy pilots doing the military flyover?" She asked, hands on her hips.

Charles furrowed his brows. And then his face relaxed as he shook his head at her. "Start checking your emails, please," he said.

She gently pushed him as a member of the Ferrari staff, the same girl from before, approached them. "They're here," she said and left them to it.

Charles led the way back through the garage, heading to where the navy pilots were standing around his car. Three of them, the three that looked the part, chatted with Fred while one, one that was dressed down, stood to the side.

Suddenly, she pulled Charles out of sight. "What is it?" He asked quickly, concern written on his face.

She looked back around the corner at the pilots for just a second. "Holy shit, Cha, I think I'm in love," she said and Charles just laughed.

"Do you need a wingman?"

She furiously shook her head. "Don't you bloody dare."

She steadied herself and followed Charles over to the navy pilots. Fred spotted his drivers first. He gestured over to them as he back away from the pilots, letting the drivers take over.

Charles held his hand out towards them introducing himself first. She went next, giving them her name as she reached out to shake the woman's hand.

"Natasha Trace," she said with a smile as she shook her hand. "Callsign Phoenix."

She moved on to the man with the moustache. "Bradley Bradshaw, or Rooster," he said and shook her hand, his grip firm. He wore a smile, but it was respectful.

Unlike the man next to him. She could tell who he was from the moment she looked at him, wearing that flirty smile. "Jake Seresin," he said, pulling her hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. "You can call me Hangman."

The smile dropped from her face and she pulled her hand away, clearly unimpressed. She looked past him, at the guy in the sweater and the glasses. "How about you?" She asked, completely ignoring Hangman. "Are you in the navy too?"

Bob blushed bright red as he stepped forward. "Robert Floyd," he said and shook her hand. "I'm a weapon systems officer."

"Oh," she said. Just that one word and she sounded incredibly fascinated. "Do tell me more."

She'd asked Charles not to wing man her, but he did it anyway. She might not have been aware as Charles spoke to the other navy pilots, doing the job for both of them. (Charles didn't know if Bob was the one she had fancied, but it was easy to guess. He looked like her type).

They spoke for a good twenty minutes before the drivers were told to wrap up the conversation. "You got a call sign?" She asked Bob as she crossed her arms over her chest and leant against the wall.

Jake had been wrapped up in the conversation he, Rooster and Phoenix were having with Charles until that point. Upon hearing her question, he placed his arm around the WSO's shoulders and grinned at the driver. "This is Baby On Board," he said with a grin, going to pinch Bob's cheeks.

Again, his cheeks were flaming as he stepped away from Jake. "It's Bob," he said. "Just Bob."

"Just Bob," she repeated as she smiled at him, completely ignoring everything Jake had said (something that Bob was grateful for). "It's simple, I like it."

Her engineer called for her. She turned and put her thumbs up before turning back to Bob. "Are you staying for the free practice?" She asked and Charles couldn't stop himself from answering.

"Sorry," he said to the pilots. "She doesn't read her emails."

She sent a glare in Charles's direction. The drivers said a quick goodbye to the navy pilots (although she hoped it wasn't for the last time), and got themselves ready for the first practice session in Las Vegas. They pulled up the red and white overalls and placed the balaclavas over their faces.

Bob watched as she pulled her helmet on, hiding her undeniably pretty face. He really did think she was beautiful, and she seemed interested in him, but he wasn't going to read too much into that.

He couldn't see as she gave him a smile from beneath her helmet. When she climbed into the red car with the number 53 on it, Bob knew which one he had to look out for.

The track wasn't ready, everybody knew it. But they didn't know how bad it was until they shower of sparks coming out the back of her car. "What the fuck was that?" She said to her engineer down the radio. "I just hit a fucking manhole cover."

The pilots were leaning forward as she stopped the car. The session was stopped, the other drivers coming into the pits. She jumped out of the car, waiting for it to be lifted onto the truck so that she could look at the extent of the damage beneath.

As the car was taken back to the garage and workers surrounded the manhole cover, she climbed into the medical car and was taken back to the pitlane.

Bob watched as she stormed into the garage, pulling off her helmet and balaclava. "Nine fucking minutes!" She heard her say to somebody in a Ferrari shirt. "I officially hate the Vegas Grand Prix."

She looked around the garage, eyes focusing in on the pilots. They were watching her, too, and she forced her expression to soften as she walked over. "Sorry you had to see that," she said, unzipping her race suit.

Bob shook his head. "'s no worries, ma'am," he said before he could stop himself. When his fellow aviators looked at him, his cheeks flushed red.

"We're just glad to know you're okay," Natasha said for him.

The driver smiled at them. But the interaction was short lived as she was called over to her wrecked car. (It looked fine on the top, but everybody knew the damage was beneath, invisible).

The nine minutes of practice wasn't enough to help the aviators get into F1. Rooster, Hangman and Phoenix wanted to head back to their hotels, but Bob wanted to stick around.

"My dad was into Nascar," he explained as the others left. They nodded, but they knew better. Their Baby On Board had a crush.

She hadn't expect him to stay, that much was clear. She'd seen the other aviators leave and had gotten on with what she needed to do, speaking to the mechanics about the parts they needed to replace and speaking to Fred about the potential consequences.

"Oh!" She said when she saw Bob still sitting there. "I thought you would have left."

Bob gave a polite smile and shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to learn more."

The smile she gave him matched his own. "Well, you're not gonna learn much here," she said. "Let me get changed and we can get dinner."

Bob didn't expect dinner to be in the Ferrari hospitality suite. He'd didn't exactly think he'd be going out to dinner with her, but he didn't expect this.

She sat Bob down at a table and got a selection of food for them to share. "I can't exactly go crazy," she'd said as she sat down opposite him, placing the single plate in between them. "I still have a car to drive later."

Bob grabbed something from the plate. "Why does that mean you can't go crazy?" He asked curiously, innocently.

Every question Bob had, she answered. He told her that his dad watched Nascar while he was going up but he couldn't get into it. Didn't have the time once he joined the navy.

She asked him all about that, just as curious as he was about her job. Bob knew she was meant to be this big celebrity, but she was normal with him, and he really appreciated it.

He hadn't known who she was going into this weekend, but he heard the way the fans screamed her name. She was so famous, and he was just a boy from Montana.

"Are you and your friends watching anything else of the Grand Prix weekend?" She asked as she ate a piece of lettuce (literally just holding a big piece of lettuce to her lips and crunching on it).

Bob shook his head as he looked down at the table in front of him. "'Friad not, ma'am," he said, looking at her over the top of his glasses. Bob didn't know what compelled him to do it, but he took them off.

"Aw," she said with a pout. "I liked them."

"Really?" Bob couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "I used to have ones with slightly thicker frames, but these are military issued," he explained, putting them back on his face.

She grinned at him. "They're cute," she said, resting her cheek in her hand. It was undeniably flirty, and her grin was only making it worse. Well, that would have been if Bob could have allowed himself to believe that was flirting with him.

"I could get you tickets, if you'd like," she said. "You and your pilot friends. You can come back back to the Ferrari garage, support us for the rest of the weekend."

Bob gave her a gentle smile. "I'd like that," he said.

They continued chatting until she had to head back to the garage. Bob followed her, walking behind her.

She took him back to the garage, leaving him to stand with the rest of the Ferrari guests while she disappeared into her drivers room. Bob couldn't help but think of her as she got herself ready, getting dressed into her fireproofs and race suit. If Nat was here, he could ask her for advice.

Ten minutes before the start of FP2, she walked over to Bob. He'd seen her dressed down in a Ferrari hoodie and cute cargos, seen her in her race suit, and seen her in her fire proofs, race suit sitting low on her hips.

That was how she walked towards him. He'd seen so little of her, but this was his favourite (and he certainly wanted to see more). "Want to sit in the car?" She asked, hands on her hips.

***

The first thing she did after FP2 was give Bob her phone number. He couldn't quite believe it, and made a mental note to recount everything to Natasha as soon as he got back to the hotel.

"Have you got a way back to your hotel?" She asked, her helmet tucked beneath her arm.

"I, uh..." No, he and Natasha had gotten a cab together.

She waved him off before he could give her a proper answer. "I can drive you, if you'd like," she offered.

That was how Bob found himself sitting in an F1 drivers car, telling her about his childhood as she took him back to his hotel. He told her about his big family and the mountains he grew up around. He told her about when he joined the military, about his first time in Top Gun and his permanent stationing in Coronado.

Before very long they were pulling up outside of his hotel. "Well, here we are," he said, patting his legs. He didn't move to leave the car, but she didn't much mind.

"I really liked meeting you today, Bob," she said as she tapped the heel of her hand against the steering wheel.

"It was lovely to meet you, too," he said.

"Promise you'll text me?"

"Promise."

She held out her pinky finger and Bob wrapped his own around it, sealing the deal. He looked at her one last time and climbed out of the car, heading into the hotel.

Bob couldn't hide his smile as he walked through the lobby and into the elevator. Just days ago he'd hated the thought of a military flyover for the Las Vegas Grand Prix. Now, he couldn't wait to get back to the track, back to the Ferrari garage.

Nat noticed it the minute he walked through the door of the hotel room they were sharing. "Had a good time watching the rest of it?" She asked as she pushed away from the desk in the room.

Bob nodded as he pulled out his phone, clicking on her contact. But, the moment he was there, he didn't know what to say to her. "Nat," he called, looking up at her. "I need your help."

He only needed Nat's help to get the ball rolling. But soon, she and Bob were sending messages back and forth with just a second long gap between. Sometimes Bob took a little longer to reply, but only because Nat was reading the messages over his shoulder and assuring him that she was flirting.

Bob couldn't believe it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't.

"I'll go with you tomorrow," Nat said as she climbed into her bed. It was incredibly late and Bob was hyper-aware that they were still texting. "Find out if she really is flirting with you."

"Nat..."

"Goodnight, Bob."

Natasha went to sleep, but Bob stayed up. She was still replying to his messages, and he couldn't bring himself to not respond. At least until she turned around and wished him goodnight.

When Bob woke up, she had already texted him. I don't have to be on track until later - wanna get food?

Who was Bob to say no? Natasha grinned as he got himself ready, including his glasses. (He had brought his contacts to Vegas because of how much he hated wearing his glasses. He didn't have time to put them in before they headed to the track the day before, but Nat didn't expect him to wear them now).

He walked out of the hotel, ignoring Hangman and Rooster as they called after him. They sat in the lobby, do doubt waiting for Natasha as they whistled at him.

Bob kept going. He saw her car before he walked out of the glass doors, and had to stop himself from breaking into a small jog. As he approached, she pushed open the passenger side door. "Hey, Robby!" She called, wearing a grin.

"Hey," Bob said, wearing a smile as he climbed into the passenger side.

As soon as he was buckled in, she began driving. "Have you ever been to Vegas before?" She asked as she headed towards the strip.

Bob shook his head. "No, ma'am," he said. It wasn't in the same way he'd said 'ma'am' before. No, those time he had been nervous saying it. This time, it was so fucking cute and she loved it. "I don't get enough leave for that."

"Why do you call me ma'am?" She asked, but she never wanted it to stop.

Bob couldn't stop his smile. "My momma raised me right."

That much she could tell. She parked the car and climbed out as Bob did the same. "Come on," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

They went to a restaurant. Bob didn't catch the name of it as she pulled him through the doors. Even when sat gave the waiter her name, she was still holding his hand.

They sat down at a table for two. It felt far too intimate, almost like a date. She couldn't order a drink, but insisted that Bob did. He ordered one beer and made sure to make it last through their entire lunch.

She ordered a salad. Bob wanted to do the same, but she could see how conflicted he was. "Have whatever you want," she said, lowering her menu.

So, he did just that. Bob got himself a burger, the cheapest one on the menu (which was still incredibly expensive).

While they ate, Bob couldn't ignore the way her foot touched his knee beneath the table. He gulped as he reached for his beer.

While they waited, she told Bob about how she had grown up. Karting from a young age before moving onto single seaters.

The more she spoke, the more Bob could imagine getting into F1. Watching races, coming to see her in Vegas when he wasn't deployed. He just had to hope she still liked him enough to keep in contact with him.

They spent the entire afternoon together, until she was taking Bob to the track with her. Pictures of the two of them were taken as they walked through the paddock, too close to just be friends.

Once again, Bob stood in the garage while she completed the last practice session. She led, the fastest car until the Red Bulls were released onto the track.

But still, Bob couldn't stop watching the number 53 car. She came into the pits, had her tyres changed and went out a few minutes later.

Bob couldn't help but smile as he watched her climb the leaderboard. When practice ended, she didn't come in right away, doing a practice start with the other drivers.

When she got out of her car, she pulled off her helmet and balaclava, and spoke to her engineers. She had looked so happy when she climbed out of the car, but Bob watched as her face fell.

She walked over to him, unable to keep herself from sighing. The anger dropped from her face, replaced by sadness. "Wanna come sit in my drivers room?"

So, Bob followed her to her drivers room. She led him inside and shut the door behind him, letting out a breath as she leaned against it.

"Everything okay?" Asked Bob as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

She unzipped her overalls and let them fall to her hips. Bob shuffled over on the couch, giving her space. She sat beside him, shutting her eyes as she leaned back. "Because of the parts they'd had to replace in my car, I'm probably going to get a penalty later," she mumbled.

Her head fell onto his shoulder and Bob didn't move. He hesitated before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. That that, she shuffled slightly closer, which Bob didn't mind one bit.

Suddenly, she let out a weak laugh. "You're kinda making me want to stay in the states a little longer, Robby," she mumbled.

He looked down at her. "Would you? Seriously?" Bob could imagine it then, taking her to stay with him in San Diego, taking her to Montana to meet his mom at Christmas.

She shook her head. "I can't," she said and sighed through her nose. "There's one last race before the end of the season."

After that, Bob wanted to say. But he squeezed her shoulder instead.

When her trainer came in, Bob wished her good luck and headed back out to the garage. While he waited, he pulled out his phone and sent Natasha a text. She hadn't gone to the track with him, instead going with Bradley and Jake to the hangar they would be flying from.

If Nat showed Rooster and Hangman his texts, he'd never hear the end of it. But Bob realised he didn't mind. Let them talk, he was here with her.

The first round of the qualifying session was about to start. Bob sort of knew what to expect, she'd explained it to him while they sat in her drivers room, her head on his shoulder. He watched as she walked towards the car, her red, gold, black and white helmet on her head.

She climbed into the car and somebody strapped her in as somebody else spoke to her. She nodded at whatever they were saying and put her thumbs up.

Admittedly, Bob couldn't tell the difference between the practice sessions and the qualifying session. He watched as she went from having no time on the board to being the quickest car on track. But then she was knocked out of the top spot, down in eighth by the end of that session.

Bob had assumed that she was starting the race in eighth position after the eighteen minute long qualifying session. But then she and fourteen other drivers were going back out onto track.

Again she was at the top of the board, knocked out by the same driver. But she stayed in fourth, unable to get a quicker time in before the end of the session.

She went out for a third and final time. Bob heard her calling down the radio as somebody got in her way. But she put an impressive time on the board, finishing third.

It may have been obvious to everybody else in the garage, but Bob had to ask the girl standing next to him. She pushed her dark hair behind her ear and answered with a thick French accent. Bob thanked her and watched as the 53 car came into the garage.

She hopped out, did what she needed to do and came to find Bob.

It was near midnight and she couldn't quite believe he was still there, watching her. They'd spent the entire day together, and she'd loved every minute of it.

"Want me to drive you home?" She asked and Bob nodded his head.

She did just that, driving Bob back to his hotel. "They haven't confirmed if I've got a penalty or not," she said as she drove him. "So, for now I'm starting in P3." She quickly glanced at him and then looked back at the road. "Think you might be my good luck charm, Robby," she said and he blushed a deep shade of red.

She pulled up outside of the hotel, just as she had done the day before. And, like the day before, Bob was hesitant to climb out of the car.

As Bob reached for the handle of the door, she opened her mouth, ready to say something, and he stopped. But she closed her mouth. Still, Bob didn't move.

She sucked in a breath and tried again. This time, words came out. "Can I come up?"

Bob knew what that meant. How could he not? Some part of him had been wanting her to ask something like this for the last few hours. But still, he shook his head. "I, uh, I can't. I'm sharing my room with Nat."

"Oh," she said and looked down at the centre console between them. "Oh, shit. Are you and Nat- I didn't mean to overstep... I-"

Bob quickly shook his head. "No. No, Nat's my best friend, but only my best friend," he said. "But, her bed is a couple feet away from mine, so..."

She couldn't help but let a smile cross her face at that. "Can I kiss you, Robby?" She asked.

He leaned over the centre console. Her arms went around his neck, fingers playing with the short hair at the back of his neck.

Bob kissed her. He closed the gap between them, his arm awkwardly resting on her shoulders as his lips moved against her own. Her nose bumped the lens of his glasses, but neither of them minded.

If the expensive car left room for it, he would have moved her onto his lap. But he couldn't. He pulled away, staring at her as his eyes opened again. "Holy shit," he whispered and she grinned at him.

"I'll come and get you before the race," she said and Bob climbed out of the car.

***

He didn't wake up to a text from her. Immediately Bob's mind played tricks on him, telling him that, after they had kissed, she didn't want him.

He sat in the hotel for half of the day, in a perpetual state of anxiousness. Part of him didn't want to move until he heard from her, until he knew that everything was okay.

"You coming?" Nat asked him. He checked his phone one last time before following her out of the hotel room.

He didn't know what she was currently dealing with, that she had just found out about her grid place penalty. "This is such shit!" She cried as she and Charles walked through the paddock. She'd woken up to the news and hadn't had time to message Bob.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Charles said, stopping to sign things for fans (signs, hats, and even a packet of oreos). "How are things going with the navy guy?"

She grinned as they kept walking through the paddock. "We kissed, Cha," she said, suddenly much happier.

"Kissed and..." Charles tried to push.

She shook her head. "Just kissed."

Charles nodded as they walked into the garage. "Just kissed, but you wanted more," he said. "Are you gonna see him before we leave?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I'm gonna go and pick him up before the race."

Through the evening, she and Charles did what they needed to do for the race. When she got a minute, she texted Bob, but she didn't have many opportunities to check her phone.

As soon as she had a chance, she ran out of the paddock. She held her phone to her ear as she went, making her way to her car. Bob picked up on the third ring. "Hey," she said, opening the door of her car. "I'm on my way."

Bob hesitated before he answered. "I'm not at the hotel right now."

"Do you still want to come to the race?" She asked quickly.

"Do you still want me there?"

She let out a laugh. "Of course I do, Robby. Give me the address and I'll pick you up."

That was just what happened. She picked Bob up and took him to the track. She promised the other aviators that she would get him there to watch the military flyover and drove off with him in the passenger seat.

"Have you ever been to San Diego?" Bob asked as she drove. It had been playing on his mind a lot since they kissed, his best case scenario (which was currently happening. He could have laughed at himself for being so worried).

She shook her head. "I haven't had a chance to explore outside of the places we have Grand Prix," she answered.

"So, you haven't been to Montana?"

"Nope."

Bob couldn't help but smile. He sucked in a breath, steadying himself. "I don't know when you're gonna have time off, but I could show you Montana, if you'd like."

She grinned at him as she parked the car. "I'd love that, Robby," she said and climbed out of the car.

She checked the time on her watch, grabbed her hand and began running. "I'm late!" She cried. Bob was only happy to run beside her, heading into the Ferrari garage. He slowed to a walk, but she kept going, running to her drivers room to pull on her fireproofs and overalls.

Bob watched it all. He watched as she stood for the national anthem with her fellow drivers, watched as she completed the formation lap from the back of the grid (something he had to ask about), and watched as she raced.

Bob couldn't help but be impressed as she fought her way across the track, racing past most of the grid. She overtook ten other cars, finishing in 5th.

When she climbed out of the car, Bob could see just how happy she was from her body language alone. She did what she had to do, spoke to the team and was interviewed, before she ran over to Bob and threw her arms around him.

"That was incredible!" He cried, smiling down at her. "I didn't realise racing was so exciting."

She grinned and kissed his cheek. "Think you'll watch next weeks race?"

"Definitely," he said.

He hadn't expected her to kiss him in front of all of the cameras. But Bob didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close until she pulled away.

"I leave in the morning," she whispered in his ear. "Stay with me, in my hotel. One last night."

"Until Montana?" Bob asked, his forehead against her own.

"Until Montana."

a/n: ok i loved this and it may need a part two lol

[bradshawshawaiianshirt]

The Perfect First Date

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Summary: Rooster watches you go on failed date after failed date, often being the one to rescue you with a ride home at the end of the night. When you tell him you've never experienced proper romance, he's shocked, and makes it his mission to take you on the perfect first date, he just wasn't planning on falling for you in the process.

Warnings: fluff, some strong language, that's about it i think

Length: 4k

You shivered as you stood outside the restaurant, silently praying that you wouldn't bump into the disastrous date you'd just left as you waited for Rooster to pick you up. He was always your first call in situations like this and it seemed like he really didn't mind. Often, if he knew you were going on a date, he'd wait up for you to make sure you were okay. He'd told you that once after a few drinks at the Hard Deck.

You and Rooster had been friends for a while, ever since you both got called back to Top Gun. You'd never been close while you were both actually at Top Gun, but with the stress of the mission you'd all been called back for, a close friendship between the entire group blossomed. Of course, you'd had a major crush on him back when you'd studied there, but you'd never tell him that. You and Phoenix laugh about it sometimes, he'd never even glanced your way at Top Gun, and now the two of you were great friends, go figure.

You shivered again as the breeze got stronger, before finally seeing Rooster in his signature blue bronco. You grinned and got in the car, fastening your seatbelt quickly.

Rooster chuckled, "Somebody's in a rush to get home." he said as he pulled away from the restaurant.

"You bet your ass I am." you replied, finally feeling comfortable enough to relax, "I swear, that might be the worst date I've been on yet."

He rolled his eyes playfully, "And where did you meet this guy again?"

You paused, "Tinder." you muttered.

He slowed the car as the lights in front of him turned red and shifted to face you, "Most of these 'dating app' guys are only after one thing, you know that right, sweetheart?"

Your stomach always did a flip when he used nicknames like that. Even though you were definitely over your childish crush, you also weren't blind. Rooster was hot and there was no denying it.

You ran a hand through your hair and leaned your head against the window as he began driving again, "I know. For once I just wanna be, I don't know, romanced."

Rooster frowned and glanced at you, "Romanced? What do you mean?"

You shrugged and gazed out of the window, "I guess I want to know what it feels like to be taken on a proper date, something really cheesy, you know? Like where the guy buys me flowers and everything-"

"You've never had a guy buy you flowers?" he cut in, shocked.

You turned to look at him and shook your head, "No. Never."

You could see the gears turning in his head as he continued, "So, hold on, you've never had anything even remotely romantic happen to you? Ever?"

You tried to think, but ended up shaking your head when you realised that you didn't have any striking romantic memories at all. All your life, work was your main focus. Of course, you'd had a couple relationships, but you'd never been surprised with a planned date or a romantic weekend away, and they mostly ended up dumping you in the end anyways, often saying you were 'married to your job'.

Rooster huffed as he pulled up to your apartment, parking and turning the engine off before facing you, "That's just... That's insane, everyone deserves romance."

You chuckled slightly, "I guess it just doesn't happen for some people, Rooster." you shrugged slightly and opened the passenger door, climbing out of the car, "Thanks for saving me again, see you tomorrow night for drinks?"

He nodded and watched as you walked into your building, wanting to make sure you were safely inside before driving away. You were on his mind the whole drive home. Well, not you specifically, it was mostly the fact that you were really missing out. He wouldn't tell most people this, but he loved romance and being romantic in general. Hell, for him that was the best part of a relationship.

Okay, maybe not the best part.

When he got to his place, his mind was set. He was going to teach you that romance can happen to anyone, it just takes a decent man to do it. Then, maybe you'd stop going on these shitty dates and meet someone who actually deserved you.

The next night, he made his way to the Hard Deck like usual. You were already there with the rest of the squad, but he had to stop on the way. He glanced down at his passenger seat where a bouquet of roses lay, again huffing to himself that no man had ever gotten you flowers. What type of shitheads had you been dating? He pulled up and parked, quickly grabbing the flowers and making his way inside, looking effortlessly cool with his aviators hanging low on his nose.

He saw you immediately, sat by the pool table and chatting with Phoenix. He took a deep breath, wondering why he felt so nervous all of a sudden. It's not like he was asking you on an actual date, he was just doing this to help you out.

He walked towards you and you turned as you saw him, eyes glancing down to the roses held tightly in his hand, you grinned, "Don't tell me you're on Tinder now too, who are you meeting tonight?"

He stopped in front of you and Phoenix and held out the roses, "You."

You took them from him gently, you face frowning in confusion, "Me? Wha-"

"I've been thinking a lot about what you said last night." he began, as Phoenix looked between the two of you confused, "It isn't right, so.. I'm going to romance you." he smirked.

Phoenix raised her eyebrows, "You're gonna what?"

"Rooster, what are you talking about?" You asked.

He straightened up, his smirk breaking into a grin, "I'm going to take you on the perfect first date, show you how it's done." he said, "I'm going to raise your standards, sweetheart."

There was the stomach flip again.

"So," he continued, "tomorrow night, 7 o'clock, be ready." he winked, before turning away and joining Bob and Hangman at the pool table.

You slowly smelled the roses he'd given you, trying to hide your smile. Phoenix snorted, "I don't know what's going on, but looks like you're pleased."

You cleared your throat and quickly placed the roses onto the table near you, shaking your head, "It's not like that, we're friends. He's just being dramatic."

Phoenix nodded and rolled her eyes, "Typical Rooster."

Later that night, Phoenix approached him at the bar, "Please explain what your plan is here."

He took a sip of beer, "What are you talking about?"

She gestured to you, sat chatting on the other side of the room, "This 'perfect first date' shit," she chuckled, "seriously Rooster, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that she needs someone to treat her right for once so she can stop dating assholes-"

"What then? Date you instead?" she smirked and crossed her arms.

Rooster frowned, "That's not-" he grunted, glancing at you across the room, a fleeting thought entering his mind of what it would be like to date you.

Phoenix smiled, patting his shoulder, "Don't go catching feelings." she smirked as she grabbed her drink and walked away.

Rooster chugged the rest of his beer. You were friends and you had been for a while, if he was going to catch feelings, he would have already. That's what he told himself as he ordered another beer.

-

When it hit 7 the next night, you really didn't know what to expect, or where all of this had come from. You knew Rooster was a gentleman at heart, so maybe your words had struck a nerve in him. Either way, you decided you had nothing to lose, this was just one friend helping out another.

The buzzer in your apartment rang, and knowing it was Rooster you let him up, opening the door once he knocked.

"You know," you said, grabbing your purse from the counter behind you, "I could have just come down to meet you."

"No way." he replied, holding out his arm for you to take, "The guy always comes to the door."

You chuckled and rolled your eyes, taking his arm as you both walked downstairs to his bronco. You reached for the handle of the passenger door but Rooster beat you to it, opening it up for you to get in, "Are you serious?" you giggled, as you climbed in the passenger's seat, "This is old-school stuff, no one does this anymore."

"Correction," Rooster began, leaning over you to buckle your seatbelt. He paused by your face, "None of the assholes you date do this anymore." He noticed your cheeks redden slightly and suddenly found it difficult to look away. He smiled slightly before straightening up, "The right guy will."

He shut your door and made his way around to the drivers seat, then buckled his own seatbelt and turned on the engine.

You bit your lip, "You know, it's really nice of you to do this Rooster but-"

"Rooster?" he frowned playfully, "This is meant to be a first date, sweetheart, it's only right you call me by my actual name."

You chuckled slightly, before sighing in defeat, "Fine. Bradley."

Rooster could've sworn he felt his heart skip a beat as you said his name. He was pretty sure it was the first time he'd actually heard you say it, maybe aside from when he'd first met you in the early days of Top Gun. He was so focused back then, wanting to be the best of the best, that he'd never spoken much to you. He liked the way it sounded, he'd always thought you had a sweet voice and a part of him wanted to hear you say it again. He shook his head a little, reminding himself of the situation.

"Good." he said curtly, clearing his throat, "You wanna put some music on?" He grinned and glanced at the stereo, "Press play."

You raised your eyebrows at him, before giving in and pressing play, causing one of your favourite songs to come blasting through the speakers. You quickly turned to him in awe as he explained, "I remembered that one night I played this for you at the Hard Deck on the piano, I know you love it, so I got the CD."

You smiled brightly at him and again, he struggled to look away, especially once you started singing along. He sang with you, glancing over at you whenever he could, until the song ended.

"Perfect timing," he said, "We're almost there."

You glanced out the window as the beach came into view. Rooster saw you were confused, but it only spurred him on, excited to see if you would like what he planned. A part of him really wanted to impress you. He parked up as you turned to him, "The beach? Rooster what-" He cleared his throat to cut you off and you sighed, "Bradley, what are we doing here?"

Yep, there was no way you were ever calling him Rooster again.

He grinned, "You'll see," then he quickly got out of the car and rushed to open the passenger door for you, holding out his hand, "M'lady," he teased.

You couldn't help but laugh, taking his hand and stepping out of the car. He opened the back door and pulled out a picnic basket, before taking your hand in his again, "Ready?" he asked and you nodded, walking alongside him towards the beach.

You both walked in silence, but it wasn't awkward, in fact it felt comfortable. Rooster glanced down at your hands, he liked how big his were compared to yours, but somehow they fit perfectly together.

Eventually he stopped, reluctantly letting your hand go and placing the basket onto the sand, "What do you think, sweetheart? This a good spot?"

You chuckled and nodded as he took out a blanket and laid it carefully on the ground. You both sat down and he placed the picnic basket in between you, "I hope you're hungry, I got all your favourite things."

He opened the basket and you peaked inside, seeing all of your favourite snacks as well as a bottle of wine, "How did you even know all my favourite foods?" you asked.

He grinned, "I asked around." he reached into the basked and pulled out two wine glasses, "Would the beautiful lady like some wine?"

Your cheeks felt warm as you nodded and watched him pour you a small glass. You took it from him as he poured his own and once he was done, he turned back to you, "So, tell me about yourself."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What are you talking about, you already know me."

"Nope," he tutted, "This is a first date, right? I don't know anything about you yet, but I want to, that's the whole point."

You chuckled, "Wow, most of the time the guy just goes on and on about himself."

"That's because they're shitty guys," he grinned, "So, tell me about yourself, even if I've already heard it, pretend I haven't."

"Okay, uh," you paused and tried to think, "well, I'm a pilot in the Navy."

"A pilot, huh?" Rooster nodded slowly, trying to pretend this was news to him, "And what's that like?"

You smiled, "It's.. a lot. I love it though, I wouldn't give it up for anything." Rooster's smile mirrored yours, because he felt the same way about it, you continued, "Some of the guys I work with can be a real handful though."

His head tilted to the side and he smirked, "Oh really?"

You nodded, "Especially this one guy, got a real silly callsign too, something like.. Duck? Chicken?"

You giggled and he snorted, "Silly huh? Nah, I bet he's cool, gotta be handsome too."

You pretend to think it over, tapping your chin in thought, all the while your smile never left your face, "I guess he's okay." you shrug eventually, taking a sip of wine.

"Just okay?" Rooster raised his eyebrows as you giggled. He'd always know he loved your laugh, but somehow he loved it even more when you were laughing at something he'd said. It was the third time so far he had to remind himself of the situation.

"Fine, he's very handsome." you grinned, "Maybe not as handsome as Hangman but..."

Rooster chuckled, shoving you playfully, "Shut up." he laughed, secretly hoping that wasn't what you actually thought.

You sighed dramatically, "At least Hangman actually acknowledged me while we were at Top Gun."

Rooster smiled slightly, "Guess I just knew how much of a distraction you'd be back then."

You snorted, "Or you were going through a moody teenager phase."

"That's probably true, yeah." he nodded slowly, chuckling to himself.

You smiled, "It's fine, that was years ago anyway. I'm glad we're friends now."

He smirked, "Friend-zoning me on the first date? That's just cruel, sweetheart." You giggled again, and Rooster felt his smile get bigger. He realised he'd never had a date where the conversation flowed so easily, even though this wasn't technically a 'date', he wondered if things would be different if it was.

Your rested your head on his shoulder as the sun began to set, "Wow." you said in awe, "The sunset's beautiful."

Still thinking everything over in his head, Rooster nodded, glancing down at you. He could see the sunset reflected in your eyes and you looked so relaxed, content, "Yeah it is." he muttered, even though the sunset was the last thing on is mind.

A little while later, you'd packed up all the food and walked back to his car. He put the picnic basket on the back seat and opened the door for you again. You'd playfully rolled your eyes at him but said nothing, getting in the car quietly, feeling slightly disappointed the night was almost over.

Rooster noticed himself driving slower than usual on the ride back, trying to soak up all the time with you he had. He tried not to think too much of it, telling himself it was nothing as he arrived at your apartment. He walked you to your door, again insisting it was the 'gentlemanly' thing to do.

"I'm curious," you said, as you both stood in front of your apartment door, "All this tonight, is this actually the kind of thing you do on a first date with a girl?"

Rooster nodded, "A first date is important, sweetheart, I like to make a good impression."

You chuckled, "What about at the end of the night? How does the great 'Bradley Bradshaw' end the perfect first date?"

He smirked, "Well, for starters, I don't kiss on the first date, I wait until at least the second, it's just the way I was raised." he said, taking a step towards you, "but, there is something I do to, uh, leave a lasting impression."

You raised your eyebrows, "Go on."

Bradley smirked, agreeing to show you, "Okay so," he took a small step forward, so the space between you was nearly non-existent, "I gently tuck a piece of hair behind her ear," he said, doing so as he said it, "I look deep into her eyes and then I lean in to whisper," his voice was low as his lips came to your ear, "I had a really good time tonight, I'm hoping you'll let me see you again soon."

He moved back so was looking directly at you, your faces only inches apart, noses almost touching. His eyes felt stuck on yours and he felt this.. tug. Like he could easily just lean in and-

"You are so cheesy!" you giggled, pulling away from him and unlocking your door.

He cleared his throat, snapping out of whatever moment he was having, "It may be cheesy, but trust me, it works."

You rolled your eyes and stood in your door way, "I did have a good night tonight though, so thanks... Bradley. I definitely feel romanced now."

He shook his head slightly, forcing a smile, "No problem, sweetheart. Goodnight."

You smiled and said goodbye, shutting the door behind you as you walked into your apartment. Rooster really had delivered on his promise of the 'perfect first date', even he knew that as he stood looking at your door. He was about to knock, but decided against it, making his way back to his car instead. He didn't even know what he was planning to say, it was that stupid tugging feeling again that had almost overtaken him.

He barely slept that night, his mind was stuck on you and how much fun he'd had. Sure, he been on other dates but this one was so easy. He thought he'd have to force himself to be romantic with you, but in reality, it had felt like second nature to him as soon as he realised that all he wanted was to see you smile. That and the cute little surprised look you'd gotten on your face when you'd seen that he'd brought all your favourite food. Even when you were both singing in the car, he felt himself wishing it was an actual date.

He tossed and turned, thinking back to your time at Top Gun, back to when you two weren't friends. All this time you'd thought he never noticed you, but that was the problem. He had noticed you back then, you were hard to miss, he just couldn't let himself get distracted like that, plus he was still working through all the issues he had, so it was easier for him to not look your way. And now you were just friends. Friends.

It was around 3am when he woke up to a startling thought.

He had wanted to kiss you. He'd been so close until you pulled away and now all he could think about was what it would be like.

Damn.

He was so fucked.

-

Rooster tried to avoid you at work, but that only made him feel worse because he wanted to see you more than anything. You eventually found him at the end of the day anyways, walking up to him with a smile. How had he never noticed how pretty your smile was before. God, he was really spiralling.

"Hey!" you grinned, "I haven't seen you all day!"

"Yeah." he cleared his throat, "Sorry, been busy."

You nodded slowly, but the air felt tense and awkward. "I really enjoyed the other night, you've really opened my eyes, Bradley, or I guess I should get back to calling you Rooster now, right?"

Rooster shrugged, trying to seem as casual as he could, "Yeah.. right."

You smile, "Okay, then Rooster, guess what? I've got another date, and not from Tinder this time."

He stiffened, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, "Oh really?"

You nod, seemingly pleased with yourself, "Yep, it was a real meet-cute too. He helped me reach a top shelf at the supermarket and ended up asking for my number."

Rooster frowned, he didn't want another guy reaching high shelves for you, he could do that just fine. He didn't want you on another date with a guy at all. He really wanted to kick himself, he never would have felt this way if he hadn't taken you out. Then again, the more he thought about it, he'd always had a soft spot for you. Why else would he go out of his way to pick you up on a date night, instead of going out on a date himself. If he wanted to go out with someone, he definitely could, he'd been given enough numbers at the Hard Deck to know that.

He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, "Well, I hope it goes well."

You laughed, "I don't know. You've set the bar way too high now, as soon as he disappoints me, I'm leaving."

Rooster internally hoped he would disappoint you as you said goodbye and walked off down the hall, heading home for the day. A thought came to mind that if you were together, he'd be joining you on your drive home. Maybe you'd both stay up together and watch a movie, order some takeout, then after..

He blinked a few times and shook his head, trying to clear his mind quickly. Once he was home, he had another sleepless night, the thought of you with someone else nagging at him.

-

The night of your big date, Rooster found himself sat with his friends in the Hard Deck, checking his phone every few minutes in case you needed him to pick you up. The longer it took for a text to come, the more riled up he got, wondering if it was going well, if he was going to have to see you both together anytime soon-

"Stop moping." Phoenix chuckled, interrupting his thoughts. He put his phone back in his pocket as she stood in front of him, sipping her beer.

Rooster scoffed, "I'm not moping, I'm fine."

"No, you're not." she smirked, sitting herself down next to him.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Nat, I should be happy for her but.." he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, "It doesn't matter anyway, we're just friends."

She snorted, "So you finally realise you have feelings for her but it's too late because she's taken your advice and gone out with a decent guy, you both have really great timing."

Rooster frowned, "What?"

Phoenix put her beer down and faced him, "She had the biggest crush on you in Top Gun, don't tell me you didn't know."

Rooster's eyes widened, "She- No way."

"I can't believe you didn't know!" Phoenix chuckled, "It's just funny, she was convinced you'd never see her like that, I mean, you barely said two words to her our whole time there, and now.."

Rooster groaned, "She had a crush on me all that time and I missed my chance." his face fell into his hands as he mumbled, "I'm such an idiot."

Phoenix rolled her eyes, "Yeah, you are." he lifted his head and looked up at her, "You guys have been walking the line between friends and more than friends for a while now, I don't know how you don't see it, but she has feelings for you Rooster, just like you do for her."

"She's on another date right now with another guy-"

Rooster felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Hey are you free? Could use some saving right about now.

It was from you. Phoenix read the message over Rooster's shoulder, "Go get your girl."

-

You sat on a bench a few minutes down from the restaurant you'd left. Rooster was on his way, and really this was always the best part of a date for you anyways, joking around with him in the car on the way home. Yet you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected, since you'd really gotten your hopes up for tonight and the guy ended up being exactly like the rest.

You looked up as his bronco stopped in front of you. You were about to stand when the engine switched off and Rooster got out, sitting himself down on the bench beside you.

"You okay?" he asked.

You shrugged and nodded, "I'm fine, guess I just thought he would be different but he wouldn't even look up from his phone." you sighed, "Then he expected me to want to go back to his place, after barely saying two words to me all night! That was when I messaged you."

He nodded, "Good." he cleared his throat, "You had a crush on me back in Top Gun, huh?"

Your eyes went wide, "What? Who told you that?"

He smiled a little, "You know why I wasn't friendly with you back then?" you frowned in confusion as he continued, turning to face you on the bench, "Because when I first saw you, I wanted to ask you out, but I also wanted to be the best, so that had to come first for a while."

"I don't understand," you said, turning to face him too.

He chuckled, his eyes stuck on yours as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, "I told you, I knew you'd be a distraction."

Your eyes met as you asked, "Wait- You liked me?" Rooster nodded, he was playing with a piece of your hair, twirling it around his finger, "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I've realised the crush I had on you never went away, and I've gotten to be the best, so now I wanna tackle the asking you out part." he replied, his hand coming to rest on your cheek.

You raised your eyebrows, smiling a little and leaning into his touch, "The perfect second date?" He nodded as you said, "Okay, Rooster."

He leaned in a little, "I think from now on you should call me Bradley."

You slowly nodded, smiling and muttering, "Okay, Bradley." He smiled back at you, before he leaned in and kissed you gently. His hands travelled from your cheeks down to your waist and his thumb began rubbing circles on your hips. Rooster was in heaven, your kiss every bit as good as he thought it would be.

When you broke away from each other, breathless and red-faced, he tenderly kissed your head. You smiled, "I thought you didn't kiss until the second date."

"If our second date has to be on a random bench for me to finally kiss you, then I'll take it."

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎInamorata౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: bullying, angst pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: Coriolanus met you during his time as a peacekeeper, and he resolves to bring you back to the Capitol with him. author’s note: Hey hey! First Coryo fic in awhile, I'm excited about this one!! Please enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

You were lying between his legs, hidden in the trees away from the world when he told you he was leaving. It was a sunny day, and the shadows of the leaves were dancing over your faces.

Sitting up from his arms, you turned around, looking at him with your brow furrowed. "What?" You knew a peacekeeper's service spanned twenty years, and Coriolanus had hardly been here seven months.

"I passed the advancement test," he said, looking down at you, his blue eyes solemn. "They're sending me to Two."

"Oh." It was all you could say, and you pursed your lips, turning back around and leaning against his chest. You were quiet.

Coriolanus brought his fingers to your chin, turning your chin to face him again. "Sweetheart."

You looked into his eyes, brow furrowing. "So, you'll still be a peacekeeper? Just...not here?"

He nodded, studying your expression in his way. Coriolanus, you had learned, was always watching you, always inspecting you in some way. You'd grown to find it comforting, though now you didn't know how long that comfort would remain in your vicinity.

Biting your lip, you looked down, the reality of him leaving setting in. You'd fallen in love with him so quickly, and you now couldn't imagine your life without him.

Coriolanus couldn't either.

He'd been disappointed, at first, when he'd been assigned to this city. Bribing the official had been a last-ditch attempt to get to Lucy Gray. The chances had been small, he had known, but still he'd moped during his first week here. Not only was he in District Twelve of all places, but the person he'd spent the last of his money to get to wasn't even here.

But, knowing he wouldn't last twenty years pining over her, he'd pulled himself together and thrown himself into his work. Coriolanus was a hard worker, and he put his skill to good use, focusing solely on his duties.

That mindset had lasted all but a week.

One day he'd been in a bad mood. There were some unusually rowdy citizens that he'd had to round up, and the clouds were getting dark. On top of that, he'd had Lucy Gray on his mind more than usual, wondering (stupidly in his opinion) if she missed him, what she was doing. He'd been patrolling along the street, breathing in coal dust and holding his gun tightly.

There had been a rumble of thunder, and then it began to rain. Quickly, passerby had begun to scramble inside, and he'd cursed his shift, longing to go back to base and have a hot shower. Of course it'd rain today of all days.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone walking in the downpour. When he turned to get a better look, he'd seen you, carrying a bag on your shoulder.

Although you were strikingly pretty, that wasn't what caught his attention at first. It was the fact that you, in a now soaked through blue dress, weren't hurrying along at all, not eager to get inside like everyone else. No, you were meandering along, smiling as if there was nowhere you'd rather be.

He'd approached you, unable to help it. "Miss," he greeted. "You shouldn't be out in the rain. You'll catch a chill."

You'd smiled so sweetly it made his head spin. "I don't mind a little water, officer. It's a lovely change from the heat we've been having."

"Still," he nodded, trying to quell his thoughts. "You shouldn't be walking."

"I don't know any other way to get home from the market," you raised your eyebrows, teasing a bit.

Coriolanus paused for a moment, realizing you were right. He straightened, nodding. "Allow me to accompany you home, then. At least I'll know you're safe."

You'd smiled coyly, tilting your head. He remembered thinking how pretty you'd looked, with your wet hair sticking to your cheeks, rain sliding down your face like tears, contrasting your happy smile beautifully. "Do you do this with all the girls, officer?"

He'd been unable to help the slight lift of the corners of his mouth. "No miss. Just you."

That had only made your smile wider, and you'd let him escort you home. He carried the bag of fruit and vegetables for you, telling himself it was simply the gentlemanly thing to do. But as you'd chatted with him kindly all the way to where you lived, he'd found himself drawn to you, to your sweet nature, your beauty, you.

He'd never before understood how Romeo fell in love with Juliet so soon after Rosaline.

From that point on, your relationship had bloomed quickly. He began to let his guard down around you, surrendering to the pure goodness of you. He was wholly enamored by your being, by your existence. Coriolanus had thought coming to District Twelve would mean Lucy Gray at best, lung cancer at worst, but he hadn't at all expected to find a treasure like you amidst the dust and grime. The two of you cut a striking picture at first- the peacekeeper in his sharp uniform and the sweetest girl in town with a gentle demeanor.

You pried him open, softened his heart. And he made you feel loved, made you feel special. You cherished him for this reason, which was why this news of him leaving hit you so hard.

Back in the forest, Coriolanus propped his chin up on your shoulder. One of his hands was resting on your tummy, soothing back and forth. "What do you think sweetheart?"

"Of the promotion?" you questioned, leaning back against him. You didn't want to tell him how saddened you were by his leaving. So you, true to yourself, took the positive route. "You'll be happy there. You've worked so hard and I'm proud of you." You knew how he dreamed of escaping the lower districts, how much he missed his home. Transferring to Two was a step closer to getting back. "You deserve to go."

He nodded, kissing your temple. "Thank you, sweetheart." Then he rubbed his hand over your tummy again, the side of his head leaning against yours. "Are you upset with me?"

You shook your head, biting your bottom lip in contemplation. He studied you. "What's the matter then, darling?"

"I just..." you hesitated. It felt so insignificant. In your eyes, Coriolanus had a bright future, and you didn't want to weigh him down. "I'll miss you."

You were afraid he'd think it silly, but instead he cooed, pulling you more snugly into his arms. He pressed his lips to the top of your head. "I'd miss you too." He rested his chin on your head for a moment, thinking. Then, in smooth tones, he asked, "Would you come with me?"

Once again, his words made you turn around. You read his face, trying to determine if he was serious. When you found no trace of humor, you asked, "You want me...to come with you?"

His hand found its way to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. He smiled in a reassuring way. "Come with me, dove," he repeated. "I know you think I'll be happier there, and maybe it'll be familiar for me. But..." he reached over and squeezed your hand. "I won't be happy without you."

You searched his eyes. "Coryo, I can't-"

Coriolanus leaned in and kissed you softly, his hand running up and down your side. He pulled back slightly, that usual contemplative look on his face. "You've got no reason to stay here."

He was right. Your family was long passed or moved away. But that was beside the point. "This is my home," you murmured as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck. "I grew up here."

"But what does this district have for your future?" he asked, nudging his nose against the soft skin of your neck. He was clinging to reasons to keep you.

"I..." you didn't know how to counter. When he put it that way, he was right. But the idea of leaving here, the only home you'd ever known, was just so daunting.

Coriolanus met your eyes, both his hands coming to your cheeks. "What will you do here?" he questioned, shaking his head slightly. "I don't want you to marry some farm boy and make babies for the rest of your life darling." He heard how selfish he sounded, but he didn't care. "You deserve better, sweet girl. You deserve the world."

You felt yourself soften at his words. "Nobody could give anyone that."

He shook his head. "Give me a little time. A few years to move up. And I will be able to give you everything you deserve."

A little smile came to your face at his loving promises. And now you were actually considering it. Sitting back against his chest, you turned sideways so your cheek was pressing into it. "Is it even allowed? Bringing a girl?"

Coriolanus smiled reassuringly. "I'd send you a ticket once I got there. This is hardly the first time a soldier's fallen in love with a girl where he's stationed."

You nodded, then looked up at him. In truth, the idea was growing on you. To be with him, away from the slums, where you might have more opportunities to pursue the things you loved, sounded wonderful.

The other driving factor was the way he looked at you. The way he so clearly wanted you to come. He wanted you near him. He'd said you made him happy.

So, for these reasons, you sat up a little, and nodded, looking into his eyes. "Okay. I'll come with you."

The words were barely out of your mouth before he was hugging you tightly to his chest, peppering kisses all over your face. You giggled, cuddling into him and imagining your new life with him, far away from here.

He told you he'd be leaving in two weeks. Your train ticket would be sent about a month in, so he could get settled first.

You began to prepare, saving money and gathering together a few things you'd want to take with you. Living arrangements would likely be modest, but you were used to such things. As long as you were with him, you'd endure any circumstances.

In the weeks before he left, Coriolanus suddenly became very busy with his peacekeeper duties, and you didn't see him very much over the next bit. It was only when you heard awful news that you figured out why.

Sejanus, his peaceful, soft-spoken friend, was to be hanged. For conspiring with rebels, you'd been told. You were horrified. Sejanus was the last person you'd have thought to be caught doing such a thing. Your heart broke for him, but also for Coriolanus. That was his best friend. Even though their personalities were stark opposites, and Coriolanus was a little colder in affections toward anyone except you, you knew he was fond of Sejanus.

Since you knew him, you grappled with going to the execution or not. It would be horribly painful to watch, since he'd been your friend. But what if he was looking over the crowd, seconds from death, and he wished to see a familiar face? Someone who cared about him? Or would it be worse then? You went back and forth until you received a message from Coriolanus.

Don't come.

It was a hard order to follow, but you did. The whole day you cried for Sejanus. He didn't deserve this, no matter what he'd done. But like your mother would have said, he was in a better place now.

You didn't hear from Coriolanus at all after that. Knowing him, he wouldn't want to talk about what had happened with his friend, but you'd hoped to get something from him letting you know he was okay. The day he was set to leave came and went without anything.

During the month following, you practically slept by the mailbox, hoping and praying for a letter from him. Anything to let you know he remembered his promise. It was harder than you'd thought to live without him now that you knew what it was like to do so. You missed him desperately, trying to distract yourself but ultimately failing.

In a moment of desperation, you wondered if he really had forgotten you. But then you recalled the look on his face when he'd asked you to come. No. Coriolanus never made promises he didn't intend to follow through on. So, you kept your things packed and waited.

The day the letter came, you opened it eagerly, noting the heavy, fine texture of the paper. His initials were prominent in gold at the top. Maybe this promotion was better than you'd thought.

Sweetheart-

I apologize for not writing sooner. Things have been busy here. This ticket is for the twenty-eighth, at 9:00 am. I'll meet you at the station. I miss you.

Yours,

Coryo

Him closing the letter with the name you called him made your heart sing. He didn't forget you.

Then you realized: the twenty-eighth was tomorrow.

Leaping from your seat, you scurried to put what remained for you to pack in your small, round case (a pretty thing your mother had left you), making sure there wasn't anything you were forgetting. You hadn't renewed your rent on this house yet for the next month. The plan had been to send a letter to the owner from District 2, and you figured you could still do that. You'd thought Coriolanus would give you a little more notice, but it would be okay.

Waking early the next day, you donned your prettiest dress: a white thing with buttons to the waistline and little flowers embroidered on the bodice that tied at the bust. Brushing out your long hair, you checked your appearance several times before leaving. You wanted to look your best when you saw him.

When you presented your ticket to the stationmaster, he directed you to the first-class section. Surprised by this, you hesitantly settled, sure there'd been a mistake. But a few hours into the ride, nobody ordered you out. It was very in character for Coriolanus to do this. To make sure the long journey was comfortable. But first class? You hadn't asked enough questions about his new position apparently.

The train ride was long, but you hardly minded, watching the landscape whiz by through the window like a moving picture. Eventually, your eyes became heavy and it was clear your exhaustion caught up to you. You fell asleep, figuring it was okay since you were in a safer section. No need to keep guard over your possessions here.

Some hours later, awoken by the sound of the brakes screeching to a stop, you wearily stretched, sitting up from where you'd lain across the seats. You rubbed your eyes (not too hard as not to muss your light makeup) and looked out the window, expecting to see the rugged mountains of District 2.

Instead, the sight that greeted you was of a city, shiny and crisp. Buildings stretched tall; their grandeur surprising you. It was true you'd never been to District 2, but you were fairly certain that it had nothing like this.

Maybe you'd been sent to the wrong place? You reached for your ticket frantically. But no, it had your name on it. If this had been a mistake, it'd been a well-planned one. Looking back out the window, you saw a sign situated just on the outside of the train tracks.

WELCOME TO THE CAPITOL!

Blinking in surprise, you looked from the sign to the view of the city again. It certainly looked how you'd heard the Capitol did.

The conductor called for everyone to get off the train, and you stood, taking your case in your hand and hoping he'd really be there when you exited.

You stepped off the train, trying to see if you could find him amongst the crowd. People dressed very nicely here; you noticed as you observed the hoard of people coming and going. Then, as you made your way away from the tracks and into the station, you saw him.

Heart jumping for joy, you started to walk toward him. His appearance caught you off guard for a moment. You'd thought he'd be wearing his peacekeeper uniform, but he was in a red suit, a coat of the same color over it. His hair was longer too. He was studying something in the distance in his serious way. As you got closer, he noticed and turned to you, a little smile gracing his features.

You walked faster at the sight. When you were close enough, he held out his arms and you dropped your case, practically jumping into them. Coriolanus held you tightly, lifting you off your feet and burying his face in your hair.

"Coryo," you laughed, overjoyed to be with him again.

"I missed you sweetheart," he muttered into your hair. Coriolanus pulled back slightly to look at you, arms still holding you up around your waist. Yours were wound around his neck, and you searched his eyes.

"I missed you," you said softly, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, but there was a hint of hunger to it, and you knew when he got you alone there'd be more. For now, you smiled into it, nudging your nose against his.

Coriolanus set you down carefully, picking up your case and holding out his hand for you. You took it, the familiar feeling of his hand in yours lighting you up. As you walked hand in hand out of the station, you were overwhelmed by the sight. This was nothing like anything you'd expected.

He watched your reaction, smiling and squeezing your hand. "I'm sorry for not telling you darling."

"Why didn't you?" you asked as you began to walk down the street. "Did you know you were coming here the whole time?"

Coriolanus moved his arm to your shoulders as he guided you through the crowd on the sidewalk. "I thought I was going to Two until I was about to leave. They sent me here instead." He looked down at you, that little smile you loved so much making you melt. "As for why I didn't say anything about it; I wanted to surprise you."

You smiled at that. It was sweet of him. Then you tilted your head as you asked another question. "Is it the same position, just in the Capitol?"

He shook his head. "I've been discharged. I'm studying at the university."

Now that you were at a lightly less crowded part of the street, you stopped, looking up at him, remembering what he'd told you before about tuition and why he'd been sent out to begin with. "Really? But I thought-"

Coriolanus brought his hands to your arms, setting your case down for a moment. "Strabo Plinth- Sejanus' father- is sponsoring me. He was very grateful for my friendship to his son. And in addition to my studies, I have an internship with Dr. Gaul that pays. Extremely well."

All this information washed over you, and you stared at him in disbelief, trying to understand how you felt about this. Already everything was far different than you'd thought. But he looked excited, and you knew this was everything he'd wanted; to be back home with his family and you, a promising future ahead.

So, you smiled, winding your arms around his neck again and whispering, "I'm so happy for you."

He squeezed you once before you pulled back. Coriolanus lifted your chin with his finger, making sure you were looking at him. "It's going to be so much better than we thought, sweetheart. Just you wait." You nodded, unable to do anything but believe him. The two of you were attracting a few looks as you stood there with him, and you knew it was because you were dressed like the country girl you were. It may have looked odd next to his sleek appearance. You hardly cared though, too caught up in excitement that you were here.

Picking up your case, he took your hand again, leading you further into the city. You looked around at all the sights, excited by the buzz of it all. The structures were so distinguished, with their columns and pillars. It was also chilly. You shivered a bit, and he tightened his arm around you. Back home it'd been spring for a month. But here it still seemed to be winter. The cold, however, didn't stop you from gazing at everything in awe. The view quickly took your mind off the temperature.

Coriolanus watched you take it all in, a look of amusement on his face. He seemed to delight in your wonder. You looked over at him. "Are we going to where you live?"

He shook his head, squeezing your hand. "Not yet sweetheart. We're going to go somewhere else first."

Brow furrowing slightly in confusion, you let him take you to this mystery location, which turned out to be a tall building with lots of windows. He held the door for you, and when you stepped inside, you saw sleek decor, and a woman sitting at a receptionist's desk, looking like something out of a magazine.

She looked up as the two of you approached. "How can I help you?"

Coriolanus told the woman your name, his hand on your shoulder. "She needs to be...outfitted."

The woman nodded, giving him an impressed look. "I'll call someone in to assist."

"Thank you." Coriolanus turned to you, putting your case down beside you. He put his hands on your shoulders, thumbs smoothing over your skin soothingly. "I have a meeting at the university in twenty minutes, but I'm leaving you in-" he paused, looking over at the woman.

"Lyra," she affirmed.

He gave her a charming smile. "-Lyra's very capable hands."

You tilted your head. "What am I about to do?"

Coriolanus tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "It'll be fun, sweetheart. Don't worry. We're going to get you something pretty. Tigris said this is the very best place in town." He referred to his cousin, who he'd told you was very fashion centric.

Feeling a bit confused still, you nodded hesitantly, and he smiled. "Good girl. And I don't want you worrying about price or quantity. The more the better. I'll see you in a bit." With that, he kissed your forehead and left.

You watched him go, then turned to Lyra, who wore a kind smile, seeming to understand how you felt. "Don't worry. We're here to help you. It can be overwhelming at first, especially here."

"Help me with what?" you questioned, returning her smile nervously.

She stood up as another woman walked in, taking her place behind the desk. "Shopping, of course." Lyra gestured for you to follow her, and you picked up your case, walking behind her through another door.

Behind it was a seemingly never-ending space. You saw racks of clothing, jewelry peeking out from behind cases, and shiny bottles of perfume on shelves. Lyra smiled as she watched you take it in. "Like I said, it can be overwhelming. But it's not as intimidating as it looks, I promise."

She led you to a room with wallpaper in a pleasing shade of blue. There was a three paneled mirror in the center. Two comfortable looking chairs were positioned against the wall in front of the mirror, a side table between them.

Lyra told you you could set your case down, and you did, a little warily. "Would you like some champagne?"

"No thank you," you declined sweetly, and she smiled.

"Now, I'm going to pull some things from the floor that I think would fit you," she said, studying you in an observant way. "Are there any colors you like to wear in particular?"

You thought for a moment, shifting on your feet. "I have a lot of blue things, but I'll wear anything, really."

Lyra took note of this, promising she'd be back in a few minutes with a few options. When she returned with two full racks, you realized you and her had very different ideas of a few. "I sent someone to get shoes."

She held out the first dress to you- long, silky, in a light blue color. "Go on."

There was no area to change in, so you hesitantly stripped down in front of her, avoiding eye contact. She didn't bat an eye, zipping up the dress from behind and nodding at the mirror. "Go see."

Gradually, as you tried on dresses, you began to get more into it, spinning to see yourself at different angles in the mirror. The things they were giving you were very beautiful. You liked how the fabric felt against your skin, so different from the dresses you were used to wearing. Lyra pronounced the best colors for you to wear as pink, red, black, white, and blue. "But honestly, you're so cute you could wear anything."

Another woman whom she introduced as 'Cassia' came in with shoes. You tried those on too, testing them out with different dresses and experimenting walking. You almost felt like someone else in these clothes, but in the best way.

Lyra and Cassia flattered you, adjusting the clothes, telling you the best ways to wear your hair with which ones and what accessories would look good. They hung the dresses you'd liked on one rack, separating them from the others, and did the same with the shoes.

You put the dress you'd worn in on and followed Lyra out to the different departments of the store. First to jewelry, where you picked a few simple pieces, much to her pleasure. "You'll be able to wear these with everything," she said approvingly, holding up a necklace to your collarbone.

She led you to an area with nightdresses and intimates next, which you'd balked at. "Are you sure about this? Nobody will be able to see them." You were looking at what she was suggesting: a set with a black lacy bra and panties.

Lyra gave you a mischievous sort of smile. "It's less for you, and more for him."

"Who?" you questioned.

"That handsome man who brought you in, if I'm not mistaken," she raised her eyebrows. You caught her drift and blushed, looking down. She insisted you pick out a few sleeping pieces too, lacy nightdresses and sets.

You selected a scent of perfume too; one you liked that smelled like roses. Lyra handed you a pretty black and white bag that she said would go with everything you'd picked out today.

Much to your surprise, that wasn't the end of it. Now she was sitting you down in a chair in front of a sink, telling you to lean your head back as she gently washed your hair with warm water and soap that smelled like flowers. "To match your perfume," she clarified, as if to explain the choice.

She rinsed your hair and dried it with heat, using her brush to make it fall in sleek, bouncy curls. You smiled at your reflection, amazed at how chic it looked. Lyra applied a little makeup too, not too much because in her words you "were naturally pretty and don't need it unlike some other girls I've helped before".

When all that was over, she took you back to the room with the mirror, handing you one of your favorite dresses you'd tried on (red with a long skirt and short sleeves), and a pair of black heels. Lyra turned her back when you put on your new intimates, only coming over to help you with the brassiere, which was held together by a ribbon tied in the back.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you were in awe. Somehow you looked brand new, but also yourself at the same time. Bouncing on your heels, you thought of Coriolanus, and what his reaction would be. Would he love it or hate it?

Lyra smiled at you through the mirror. "Very pretty." You turned around excitedly, thanking her kindly for all her work. She almost seemed surprised that you did, as if she wasn't used to it. Adjusting your hair behind your shoulder and smoothing the sleeves of your dress, she said that you were a sweet girl and she'd be happy to help you anytime.

You helped her carry your four bags of things, plus your case, to the front. Just before you got to the door, Lyra took the bags you were holding, hoisting them in her arms and giving you a knowing look. "You come out last. For effect, you know?"

She opened the door, an impressive feat with everything she was carrying, and said something you couldn't hear to someone on the other side. You followed her, and instantly saw why she'd wanted to go in front of you. Coriolanus was standing there, his eyes on you as you entered.

His face, in its usual serene position, broke into a smile when he saw you, all dolled up for him. Moving forward, Coriolanus took your hands in his, lifting your arms so he could see you in your entirety. "Look at you," he said in awe. He put one hand down, lifting the other, still joined with yours, up high. "Turn around for me."

You did so happily, doing a slow spin under his arm so he could see the whole dress. His smile seemed uncontainable. "You look beautiful sweetheart. So pretty." He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers. "There's a car waiting. I knew you'd have bags." He nodded at a man in a suit standing near him, and he started to gather them, carrying them outside.

Coriolanus turned back to you, looking over you again with an adoring smile. "You look lovely, darling. Truly." His affections pleased you, and you looked up at him proudly. Then he seemed to remember something, rubbing your arms. "Did you get a coat?"

Lyra stepped in, holding out the white coat with fur around the cuffs and collar you'd selected earlier. He gave her an appreciative nod, holding it up for you to step into. You slid your arms through the sleeves, and he turned you back around, taking the edges to adjust it around you, making sure you were warm enough.

You watched him do all this with a soft look in your eyes. He'd always doted on you like you couldn't believe. Coriolanus closed the coat around you, chucking you lightly under the chin. "I forgot to tell you how cold it stays for a while, darling."

The driver poked his head in, letting him know everything was ready, and Coriolanus took your hand. You turned to Lyra. "Thank you again for everything."

She smiled appreciatively. "It was my pleasure. Come back any time." You could tell she meant it.

Coriolanus led you out to the car, his arm around your waist, and you could see that you were attracting stares from some of the passerby just like earlier. Only this time, you weren't sure why. You were dressed like a Capitol citizen now.

When you asked Coriolanus about it, he smiled, squeezing his arm around your waist. "It's because you're gorgeous. You were before, but now you're beautiful in a way they know."

He kept his arm wound around your waist the whole car ride, and you couldn't help but think what a pretty pair the two of you made. For so much of your relationship you'd been mismatched. The soldier and the country girl. And a few hours ago, the country girl and academic. But now you looked like you belonged together, like you were dolls that came in a set.

The car pulled up in front of a tall, grand looking building. It was clearly old, but in a majestic way. The sun setting made the white exterior appear nearly golden. Coriolanus exited the car first, holding out a hand for you. You moved to get your bags, but he shook his head, offering his arm. "They'll be taken up. Come with me, darling."

Every step you took, you were more unsure of what you were walking into. A man standing guard at the front nodded at Coriolanus, and he returned it curtly. All the way into the elevator, to what seemed to be the top floor, you wondered what it would be like. Living with him. You'd never lived with someone you were in a relationship with before.

When the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival, Coriolanus looked down at you, reaching his other hand to where yours was clinging to the crook of his arm. "Ready?"

You nodded in an assuring way, even though you had no idea what he was asking.

The doors parted to reveal a luxurious space, more elaborately decorated than anything you'd ever seen. One thing you noticed were the accents of red everywhere. And the roses. Both the color and the flower seemed to hold importance. On some unconscious level you'd known this, known red was his favorite color but not why. Known he valued roses, but not the reason. You were thankful for your choice in dress, the same dark, rich crimson.

Coriolanus helped you take off your coat, but he seemed to be looking for something as he did. "Tigris?" he called, removing his own and hanging it with yours in the closet. Or someone.

A pretty, stylish woman with blonde hair emerged from another room. When she saw you, her face lit up. "Is this her?"

"It is," Coriolanus looked down at you proudly. You felt as if he were showing you off, but you didn't mind it one bit. "Darling, this is my cousin Tigris."

She smiled as she looked over you. "You're just lovely...I can see what Coriolanus was talking about."

"It's nice to meet you," you offered shyly, letting go of his arm. She brought you into a warm hug, and a comforting feeling bloomed in your chest. When she pulled back, she looked over the details of you with great interest. "Your dress is beautiful."

"Ah," Coriolanus said pleasantly over your shoulder, and you looked up, seeing an older woman enter the room. His grandmother, you presumed from what he'd told you.

He introduced you to her and she smiled, albeit a bit tightly. "So, you're the girl he met in twelve?" Her tone made it sound like that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Tigris saved the day, swooping in and linking arms with you, asking about you, your interests and how you liked the Capitol so far. You told her a bit about shopping earlier, and she beamed. "I'll finally have someone to shop with! Maybe that's the real reason Coriolanus brought you home," she said teasingly, tossing a look back at her cousin.

He only smiled, holding out his hand. "I'm going to show her the bedroom, Tigris."

Playfully reluctant, she let go, smiling sweetly at you. "We'll talk more tomorrow." Then she hugged you again. "I'm very glad you're here. You and I are going to be great friends."

"I'm sure we will," you smiled, letting go and going to Coriolanus. He seemed pleased that you were getting along with her.

He led you to a pair of doors at the end of a hallway, standing like two white chess pieces. The king and queen, you thought.

Coriolanus took you through the door on the right. It was a rather pretty bedroom, decorated much the same as the rest of this floor, grandly with accents of red. Beautiful of course, like a palace.

"This is your room, dove," he explained, and you smiled at the thought of this elegant space belonging to you. Then, he opened a door you'd presumed was a closet. Behind it, you saw another bedroom, but this one looked a little more lived in. "And this is mine."

"A secret door?" you wondered in delight. He confirmed it with a nod.

"The washroom is just through here," he pointed to another door with a gold handle. "It connects to my room as well."

Instantly, you wondered how much time exactly you'd be spending in the room he'd pronounced as yours. He validated your thoughts, taking your face in his hands. No matter how many times he did so, you loved it, the feel of his big hands caressing your soft cheeks. "They've already brought your things in here. I'll let you freshen up." He chucked you under the chin lightly. "Meet me in my room."

Coriolanus kissed your forehead, looking at you in his typical fond way. "I'm happy you're here, sweetheart."

Your smile stayed on your face until he shut the door behind him, and then you leapt into action.

The bags of things you'd gotten today were set to the side of the bed, beside an open door that looked like a closet. You rushed to them, carefully pulling out boxes and trying to figure out what was in each of them.

Finally, you found the one with your sleepwear and rustled through it, trying to find something...acceptable to wear. He'd implied you'd be sleeping in the same bed. You wanted to be pretty for him, for your first night together in the Capitol.

You pulled out nightdresses and sleep sets, considering. Which one was the prettiest? Which one would he like the best?

Remembering the importance of red, you chose a nightdress of that color with white lace trim and a bow in the center. You would keep your panties underneath on, you decided.

Removing your dress and hanging it in the closet, you put the nightdress on, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror. It was pretty. It made your legs look long and your skin smooth.

You pulled your hairbrush from your case and ran it through your hair a few times, making sure you looked presentable. Suddenly everything about you looked wrong. You messed with your reflection, turning to try and see yourself from the back.

There was a knock on the door. "Is everything alright, darling?"

When you looked at the clock, you realized you'd been in there for nearly an hour. "Yes!" you called, adjusting the straps of your nightdress. "I'll be just a moment."

Looking at yourself one more time, you nodded, hoping this was enough.

Opening the door, you saw him standing at his desk, holding a file, reading the contents. He'd also changed, into a grand looking dressing gown that was open, revealing he was wearing nothing but his boxers.

Coriolanus looked up, grinning when he saw you, and putting the papers back on his desk. He came to you, reaching for your hands. "Beautiful." He looked you up and down, his eyes catching on your delicate nightdress. His gaze grew slightly hungry, and he pulled you to the bed, sitting and guiding you to his lap.

His large hands settled on your thighs, grazing the hem. You searched his eyes, trying to guess at his next move. Leaning in, he kissed you gently, pulling back to look at you. "Have I already told you how happy I am now that you're here?"

"A few times," you teased, and he gave a playful growl, grabbing you around the waist and rolling you over so he was on top of you. Coriolanus' lips trailed hot kisses down your neck, and you leaned back and enjoyed it, sighing softly and tangling your hand in his hair. He'd never had hair long enough where you could do that before.

As he ravished you with attention, you relished in your newfound position. Here you were, lying on silk sheets in a pretty dress being kissed by a handsome man who loved you.

When he pulled back to look at you, your smile was bright. Was there ever a girl luckier than you?

The second he'd met you, Coriolanus knew you weren't destined for the backwater slums of District 12. No, he knew you needed something grander, that you were born to live in luxury.

And besides, you deserved it too. There was a natural sweetness about you that made him protective of you, made him want to spoil you beyond belief. And until now, he hadn't had the chance or the means.

The second he'd spotted you in the crowd at the train station, his heart grew full. You were so adorable, a breath of fresh air in the windowless room that was the Capitol. He grew excited at the chance to spend money on you, and give you every comfort he thought you required.

Pretty dresses to wear, A grand place to live. Silk sheets to...well, he'd come back to that later.

Although the dress you'd arrived in was pretty, he wanted you to fit in here. Besides, you'd look absolutely beautiful in the classic style of the Capitol.

When he'd come back to collect you at the shop and seen you all dolled up, looking like you'd been born into luxury, he'd rejoiced. Obviously, he'd always found you beautiful, but there was something about the way you carried yourself now. You were every inch a lady.

He'd been slightly disappointed at how little you'd gotten, but remembering the way you'd lived in 12, he let it slide. In time you'd become accustomed to it. He'd send you shopping again soon, perhaps with Tigris since she seemed to like you so much.

It was only a few days after you arrived that the first social event you'd attend together came up. He was eager to take you out and show you off.

That night when you emerged from your bedroom in a black and white floor length gown of delicate tulle, a string of pearls around your neck, his breath was taken away. He took your hand in his, kissing it gallantly. "Beautiful darling. Absolutely stunning."

You smiled in your sweet way, and he offered his arm to escort you out. Tigris fawned over your dress, looking lovely herself in pink silk. The three of you made your way down to the car, and he could feel your giddiness at the prospect of tonight, though you kept yourself composed in a way he admired.

Walking in with you, he could feel everyone's eyes draw to the pair of you. As a new face in the Capitol, they'd likely be curious, and he relished in the unspoken interest.

Instantly people came to you. He introduced you to person after person, and you greeted them shyly, but politely. It was obvious after a while that people were becoming enamored by you. The sweetness of your being captivated them just as it had him, just as he knew it would.

Women fawned over you, complimenting your dress and asking where you got it. Men eyed you appreciatively, but saw that you were on Coriolanus' arm, so didn't get too close. Good, he thought, looking down at you. You were his. Anyone who got too close in the wrong way would be buried.

You chatted eagerly with anyone who crossed your path. He kept you close, but still greeted those who approached him. There were certain people he was required to talk to after all, but he wasn't going to let you go for it.

When you went off to get a glass of champagne, an older woman whispered to him, "She's absolutely darling."

Coriolanus' mouth twitched into a smile. "Isn't she?" He was pleased that society seemed to have accepted you, finding you as charming as he did.

The night progressed smoothly, and soon you were caught up in a group of women alongside Tigris, talking about fashion. He excused himself, deciding you were alright for the moment in the company of his cousin.

Making his rounds, he greeted senator after senator, oozing politeness. These events could be tedious but having you here with him helped greatly. He'd look over at you every now and then, just making sure you were okay. Every time, he'd see you caught up in conversation, looking like sunshine in a physical form.

He wasn't worried about your social graces. You were unusually well educated for where you were from, and by your own choice too. There was plenty in your pretty little head about topics Capitolites could discuss for hours. Both intellectuals and opposite. His angel could bewitch anyone she wanted.

You came back to him shyly after a little bit, and he wrapped his arm around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. He could smell your perfume. Roses. His favorite. "Everything alright, darling?"

You nodded, looking up at him. "Who do we talk to next?"

That made him smile. You were so eager to please. He rested his hand on your face, thumb running over your cheek. "We don't have to. We can go home now, love."

You looked nervous. "Just a few more? I don't want to be rude."

Coriolanus looked over you, considering. "A few more." He thought it was adorable of you to worry about manners; you really were too sweet.

He led you over to a group of colleagues, greeting them politely. The group of men looked at you with interest, showering you with compliments. Of course, these compliments were a bit more sexual in nature than the women from earlier, but he let it slide, keeping his grip on you tight. You were oblivious to it, chattering with them and winning them over the same way you had with everyone else thus far.

One of the men made a comment about the way your dress hugged your body, and his fingers splayed on your waist possessively. It's not her fault, he reminded himself. He made a mental note to keep you even closer at the next event.

You excused yourself for a moment, whispering to him that you'd be right back, and he was left alone with the group of men. Back to talking about what he considered to be uninteresting affairs, especially when compared to you.

Twenty minutes passed, and you had not returned. He was growing concerned, looking around the room to see if you were with Tigris, perhaps. But no, his cousin was talking to an older lady in a blue dress.

His brow furrowed as he looked, still trying to stay engaged in the conversation but failing. Where on earth had you gone?

Finally, to his relief, you returned. Your smile was tighter, wearier than it had been before. When he got a closer look at you, he could see dried tear tracks on your face.

Immediately he took you under his arm, nodding a brief goodbye to the men in front of him. Leading you out into the hallway, he searched your eyes, brow furrowed. "Sweetheart...sweetheart, what happened? Are you okay?"

You were trying to stay composed; he could see it. Breathing deeply so you wouldn't cry, you said, "Who else do we need to talk to?"

Coriolanus shook his head, pulling you into his arms. "No one. What's the matter?"

The second he had you against his chest you broke, tears slipping down your face like rivers. He held your head against his shoulder, letting you cry there. "Shhh, I've got you angel. It's going to be okay."

He kissed your hair, rubbing your back lightly as not to wrinkle your dress. "What happened?"

You sniffled, shaking your head against his chest, words muffled. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing if it's making you cry. What happened?" he demanded gently.

Turning your head so your ear was over his heart, you sighed softly. Then, "I heard someone talking about how I'm 'district' and I should go back to Twelve."

His blood ran cold, his arms tightening around you. "Who?"

"I don't know," you said honestly. You were so new to this; he should have figured you wouldn't recognize who did it.

Coriolanus inhaled softly, burying his nose in your hair. "Pay them no mind, darling. They're fools with too much wine in their systems."

"I don't even know how they found out," you muttered, pulling back to look up at him. "I didn't tell anyone where I was from. Did you?"

"No," he said, trying to think if he might have let it slip. Not that being from Twelve was anything to be ashamed of, but he knew the socialites at the Capitol would take it too far in a negative light.

You leaned your forehead against his chest. "I don't know how anyone found out," you repeated.

"It's alright, sweetheart," he promised, his voice a soothing coo. "High society feeds on gossip like this. They'll forget all about however scandalous they think it is in no time."

You nodded, unable to do anything but believe him, leaning back into his chest, safe in the cocoon of his arms.

When the next event approached; a gala to celebrate the president and his wife's anniversary, he watched you build yourself up to attend. You selected your dress carefully, trying to infuse confidence into your appearance.

Coriolanus had known it would be a hard transition, going from living in a poor district to the upper-class world. You were doing wonderfully on your part, and he reveled in that. It was the people around you that were having a hard time getting used to it.

Perhaps he shouldn't have involved himself so much in the world of parties and dinners so soon after returning in anticipation of your arrival, but he couldn't help himself. He finally had money and influence and he wanted to use it. It was like giving a man dying of thirst water.

Anyways, the both of you were stuck in this position now. You were making the best of it, enjoying the life he'd given you despite the whispers heard everywhere you went. His sweetheart had a gift for seeing the light.

Tonight, you looked especially beautiful, in a floor length white, sheer dress that Tigris had assured you was the latest style. You seemed very eager to please, checking your reflection a dozen times before you followed him out the door.

He watched you enter the party with an air of pure confidence. Here you were, beautiful as ever, determined to make everyone like you. It broke his heart a little, that you sook the approval of others so much. But he stayed quiet, letting you do what you pleased.

It started well.

You greeted everyone you'd met before, a bright smile gracing your face. Coriolanus felt a twinge of pride. That was his girl.

He looked up at a group of women who were eyeing you, whispering among themselves, and his eyes narrowed just slightly. Then he turned to you. "Darling, let me introduce you."

Walking you over to them, he put on a polite smile as you sweetly told them your name. "It's lovely to meet you."

"Pleasure," one of the women, a blonde, said, pursing her lips as she peered at you over her glass of champagne.

"Likewise," you gave her a genuine smile and Coriolanus thanked the higher powers for your innocence.

As you began to speak to them in your special you way, he relaxed a little. Maybe he need not be so protective. Maybe you could handle yourself.

After a few minutes, you leaned into him, whispering, "You can go greet whoever else you need to, my love. I'll be fine."

He furrowed his brow a bit. "Are you sure?"

You nodded assuredly. "Of course." Tilting your head up to kiss him briefly, you said, "I know you have people to talk to. Go on."

Coriolanus stood still for a moment, deciding if it was a good idea. Eventually he concurred, giving you a parting kiss on the temple and going off to talk to a nearby official who greeted him heartily.

You watched him go, then turned back to the women, smiling. "I love your dress," you told the blonde who'd said it was a pleasure.

She softened a bit, giving you a squinty eyed smile. "Thank you. It's from the new boutique on Third. I can direct you there if you'd like."

Before you could answer, one of the other women, a brunette, said, "Your accent is so unique. Wherever are you from?"

You froze at the question, keeping the smile on your face. "Up north."

The brunette looked amused, a little smirk on her face. "Oh, so like Seven? Or Nine?"

Another blonde cut in, laughing a little. "Oh no, I bet she's from Twelve. Their accent is very similar."

Feeling tense and not much like lying, you nodded. "I am."

Blonde number two seemed rather pleased to be correct, and she raised an eyebrow as she looked you up and down. "How did you wind up here, then? In the Capitol, I mean."

You ignored the pang in your chest. "Coriolanus brought me here."

All three of the women's faces lit up at the mention of him, now looking interested. "How kind of him," the brunette said, sipping her drink. "The Snows have always been known for their charity. First with the Plinth boy and now with you! How lovely."

It was a jab, but you brushed it off. She probably didn't mean anything by it, you decided. Straightening up, you responded, "Yes, it was. I'm very grateful to be here."

"But how long are you here for?" Blonde number two asked, her eyes wide. She seemed about your age, but you could nearly physically feel the difference between you two.

"As long as he wants me to be," you answered honestly, fidgeting with the sleeve of your dress and looking to see if you could spot Tigris. She was nowhere to be found.

"Ahh, I see," the brunette gave you a smile that almost seemed condescending. "Well, that's very nice for you. A little trip to the Capitol."

"Yes, quite," you smiled politely, feeling like a bug under a microscope. "Excuse me, I'm going to go get a drink."

Once you were away, you took a deep breath. At least they weren't being outright awful. It was better than nothing, you supposed. Grabbing a glass of champagne, you took a sip for courage.

You can do this, you told yourself silently as you made your way back over. Make them forget where you're from, make them-

"She's rather naive, isn't she?"

The words of the first blonde woman pierced your ears, and you halted to a stop, just barely in earshot. The crowd was thick, but you could both see them and hear everything they said.

"Well, she is from Twelve after all," the brunette laughed. "Did you expect anything different?"

"Such a shame for Coriolanus," the second blonde mused, swirling her drink. "I wonder if he felt sorry for her. Or maybe he got her pregnant!"

The brunette gasped, hitting her in the arm lightly as she giggled. "That must be what it is. He's such a gentleman, of course he'd do the right thing even if she's a whore. I've heard most pretty girls from Twelve are."

"Poor man fell in love with her and she's just using him," the second blonde shrugged. "Oh, my word, we have to tell Jenny and Mary!"

You were rushing off into the hallway before they could say anything else.

Hot tears burned your cheeks as they fell, and you leaned against the wall, hand covering your eyes. Why did I ever think I could do this?

You caught sight of your reflection in a mirror on the opposite wall, and it only served you worse. Before tonight it had shown a girl who fit in, who could be every bit as good at society as the women in the next room.

But now all you saw was an imposter. Nothing dressed up all pretty.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried desperately not to cry. You didn't want to ruin your makeup and have to go back out there with blackened eyes. Taking deep breaths, you tried to focus on the positive. Everyone else seemed to like you, that was good. The dress you're wearing is pretty.

Opening your eyes, you breathed in and out shakily, smoothing your hair and still harvesting good thoughts. You're in the Capitol. You don't have to worry about money. Coriolanus is-

Right there.

You caught him in the reflection of the mirror and slowly turned your head. His face was solemn. Silently, he held out his arms.

Like a magnet, you were drawn to him. His arms felt like a shield around you, and you could've welded yourself to him in that moment. As a peacekeeper he had always been protective of you, and you were happy that hadn't changed.

No words were said. He knew. Instantly he knew. And you loved him for it.

You were still trying not to cry, and he looked down at you, lifting your chin with a single finger. "Darling."

The single word broke you. Biting the inside of your cheek, twin tears rolled down your cheeks, and his face softened. He pressed your head against his shoulder, holding you to him.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he breathed, holding you against him.

"This was a mistake," you hiccupped, lifting a hand to brush a tear away.

"What do you mean?" he frowned, hand running through your hair.

"I shouldn't have come here," you whispered in shuddering tones. "I know it looks bad for you, being seen with a girl who's 'district'."

Coriolanus pulled back, looking down at you. He looked determined. "Darling, if anything you make me look better. You've charmed just about everyone in that room."

Shaking your head, you choked, "I'm an imposter, Coryo." Your hands were shaking. You'd jumped into the river of Capitol society, and now the words of the women were stones tied to your wrists, holding you down at the bottom when you desperately needed air. "You should just let me go back to Twelve."

"No," he said instantly, tone sharp. Coriolanus held you tighter to him, as if you'd disappear to Twelve any second in a puff of smoke. "You're not going back there. You're staying with me."

"There is absolutely no reason to keep me here," you begged, searching his eyes. "You have so much ahead of you- you don't need me dragging you down."

Coriolanus heaved a sigh, looking firmly at you. He thumbed a tear from your cheek, studying you for a moment. Then, he reached down for your hand. "Come on. We're going home."

"You don't need to-"

"No," he cut you off, looking over you. "Come with me, sweetheart."

You trailed behind him, his hand in yours as he pulled you back into the ballroom. Flushing red a bit due to your slightly disheveled appearance, you kept your eyes on your shoes, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Hearing Tigris' voice, you looked up. She looked concerned, looking between you and Coriolanus like she was at a tennis match. "Is everything okay?"

"We're going to head home," Coriolanus said smoothly, letting go of your hand and moving his arm to your waist, holding you in a protective way.

"Okay," Tigris said confusedly. "I'm going to stay a little longer. I'll call a cab." It was sweet of her, to let you go. You didn't want her evening to be ruined because you couldn't handle what other people said about you.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, and she shook her head.

"Nothing to be sorry for," she said kindly, reaching out and smoothing the sleeve of your dress. "Feel better, alright?"

You nodded, and Coriolanus guided you away, through the crowds. Their whispering irked at you. You were convinced they were talking about the naive country girl and the Capitol's newest up-and-comer, and what a mismatched pair you were.

The car ride home was quiet, and you sniffled the whole way. Coriolanus kept close, his presence a rock in your panicked ocean of insecurity.

All the way up the stairs and into your room he was silent. It wasn't until he sat you down on the bed, and knelt before you, his hands grasping yours, that he said, "You're not going back."

"You have to let me," you responded dryly, your voice hoarse both from crying and lack of use. "I'm no use to you."

"Darling-" he looked away for a moment, seeming frustrated. "What did they say?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you mumbled, looking at your lap.

"You're going to talk about it," he said firmly, lifting one of his hands to take your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "What did they say? Don't leave anything out because you want to be nice. I know you, dove. Repeating what they said about you doesn't make you any less of a sweetheart."

Feeling trapped, you avoided his eyes. "It doesn't matter." What the women had said had hurt you, but you didn't want to be the one running to your boyfriend every time someone hurt your feelings.

"It matters to me," he insisted, forcing you to meet his sharp blue eyes. "Don't leave a single word out."

You bit your cheek so hard you tasted blood. Then, seeing no way out, you said in broken tones. "They said...I must be pregnant, or..." you didn't want to say whore. "...or a girl who sleeps around to have gotten you to bring me back here." His eyes darkened, and you quickly tried to smooth it over. "But it's not-"

"Don't defend them," Coriolanus stopped you, squeezing your hand. "Don't. Trust that they'll be dealt with, but do not defend them. They wouldn't do that for you."

"That's not the point, Coryo," you shook your head, scrambling so you wouldn't be the cause of anyone getting hurt. "They also...said I was pretty...?" you tried.

Coriolanus paused for a moment, then laughed lightly in disbelief, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it. "You really are an angel, you know that? Always so worried about everyone else. I'll bet it was a backhanded compliment and you're leaving something out."

He'd gotten you. You were quiet.

He nodded in confirmation. "Right. But sweetheart-" he came to sit by you on the bed. "Come here." Coriolanus pulled you to sit across his lap, your head resting on his shoulder. "They didn't say anything true. Women in the Capitol are jealous creatures."

"That's likely all they know," you said softly as he rubbed your back soothingly. "The poor things...growing up competing with each other like that."

Coriolanus kissed your temple, chuckling ironically. "You're too sweet. It'll be your downfall someday."

"They were right, though," you said softly, your fingers hooked on the buttons of his shirt.

"Baby," he muttered against your hair. "No."

You looked up at him, and he exhaled softly, his fingers running through your hair. "I don't want you talking about yourself like that. Especially when what those women think is in the minority."

Furrowing your brow, you tilted your head. "What do you mean?"

He scoffed lightly, in a fond way. "Sweetheart, do you know how many people have asked me about the charming girl I brought home with me? How enchanting everyone finds you?" Coriolanus squeezed your arm. "You've entranced everyone that matters."

"But-"

"There's always going to be someone who can't find it in their heart to admit they like you," he assured, nudging a kiss against your temple. "But you, my angel...you're perfect. And you're staying right here. With me."

The possessiveness of his words did not escape you, but it made you feel safer. "I don't want to hurt your position."

"You are the last thing that would hurt that," Coriolanus stated, and the way he said it made you believe it too. "If anything, you're an asset. The way you draw people in, you're a born higher-up's wife. And you're a thousand times sweeter."

He put both hands on the sides of your face. "I have never found you anything less than radiant. Never. And I do not want you do go back to Twelve. You deserve better. I want you here with me. Do you understand?"

Moved by his words, you nodded, and he wrapped his arms back around you, tucking you into his chest. "That's my good girl." He kissed the top of your head, rubbing your back. "I love you. I'm not about to let you go for anything."

"I love you too," you breathed, eyes closing as your body melted against his. It was safe here. And in that moment, you saw forever with him, here where he wanted you.

Seeing you in distress was agony. Coriolanus never wanted that to happen again.

He had to be careful with how he handled things, however. You were innocent, unknowing. And that was just the way he liked it.

Holding you there in his arms that night, he vowed not to let anyone who made you cry walk the planet. Someone who'd hurt a creature as sweet and good as you were didn't deserve to live anyways, he justified.

Coriolanus had big plans for the future. As he rose to power, it'd be less and less of an issue getting you what he thought you deserved.

And it'd be even less of an issue hiding from you what he had done to get there.

You would never find out that he was the cause of Sejanus' death. You would never know what became of the women who spoke so illy of you tonight. No, he'd continue to distract you with the shine and luster of the Capitol. Tomorrow, he'd send you out for a day with Tigris and then leave his internship early to spend the evening with you. Maybe armed with a gift or two. It likely wouldn't even be as hard as he was thinking, given your tendency to focus on the light.

He would do everything over and over again because he adored you. The love, the light of his life. Too good for this world, his alone to protect and cherish and dote on. He would live for you; he would kill for you.

This was only the beginning.

come talk about coryo here!

[enhadiares]

Hiiiii ❤️ Little request 🥰👉👈

can you do Enha Jay # mafia something like that it's kinda rare to find fics like that

love your fics so much sorry if i bothered you

🕷️A/N: IM SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO ANSWER YOU I REALLY AM 😭🙏 I HOPE YOU FORGIVE ME AND LIKE THIS ☹️☹️ I'll make a part of this if people like it and make it more yandere.

CHANCE

🕷️Warning: YANDERE THEMES , mentions of gun shot

🕷️ Pairing: mafia!Jay × doctor!reader

🕷️Synopsis:In the heart of a bustling city, Dr. (Reader) a renowned surgeon known for her unwavering commitment to saving lives, finds herself entangled in an unexpected situation when a notorious mafia leader, Jay Park, is brought into her emergency room, bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound and what's worse is that , he gets obessed with her.

It was a usual day for (reader). The sun shining brightly, doing it's job perfectly showcasing her . How she was at her workplace again right on time . Very punctual indeed. With being punctual (reader) was also very hardworking.

She's a doctor at the be:lift hospital. She loves her job . It gives her a sense of comfort knowing she helps people heal , maybe there's a chance that she would save someone from dying.

Life is a very valuable thing which you can get just once . There may be second chances and she's here to give people just that. Second chance to live their life again , this time while taking care of their mistakes , learning from them and not repeating them again.

Second chances , very fascinating and amusing aren't they? Some people get second chance while some don't , it's upon fate .

Back to (reader) , she had just completed an operation successfully , saving yet another life. She felt at ease knowing she gave someone another chance to live .

Suddenly her peace was interrupted by loud noises , people were screaming in a hospital? Oh how rude - she thought. She was going to go stop them and ask why they were screaming in a hospital in the first place , they should know that it might disturb the patients.

But just as she was about to open the door she heard footsteps , they were getting louder as seconds passed by implying that someone was coming towards her . They also sounded like they were in a hurry . Maybe someone is very serious! - a thought crossed her mind and without any further ado she opened the door only to be my by 6 men , all in a similar attire : a black shiny and shimmery blazer , colour like that of a black hole with shining black boots where one could see their reflection. Upon studying their faces , she could sense they were panicking.

“Are you the doctor? Hurry up , he got shot!” one of the guy stated. He looked young yet authoritative, like he had some power.

(Reader) quickly nodded , it was about someone's life! She has to save him. She called out for some nurses and took the injured patient to the operation ward while the other waited outside for them.

He got shot? How would he get shot? He isn't dressed up like a cop. Is he a criminal? Her eyes widen at the thought but she wasn't sure about the assumption she's making . Should she prioritize saving the life of a potential criminal , or adhere strictly to her oath as a healer?

As Dr. L/n and her team work tirelessly to stabilize the patient's condition, tension fills the air. The presence of the person's six brothers, each with a intimidating aura as his own, looms over the hospital.

As the operation progresses, Dr. L/n is faced with unexpected challenges. The bullet has caused severe damage, and the patient's condition deteriorates rapidly. Despite her expertise, she fears that his chances of survival are slim.

With time running out, Dr. l/n makes a bold decision. Drawing upon all her skills and determination, she pushes herself to the limit, refusing to give up on her patient. In a high-stakes gamble, she performs a risky procedure that could either save the patient's life or seal his fate.

As the operation reaches its critical moment, a hush falls over the operating room. Every second feels like an eternity as Dr. L/n and her team fight to wrestle the patient back from the brink of death.

Finally, the monitors beep with renewed vigor, signaling a glimmer of hope. Against all odds, his heart begins to beat steadily once more, and his breathing stabilizes.

The surgery is a success.

A sigh of relief escapes her as she removes her mask to breath properly.

----

She goes out to inform the six individuals outside the room , awaiting for their companion to be saved.

“The surgery was a success. The patient is out of danger now”

She could hear multiple sighs of relief. They all felt like they could finally breath again , their tensed shoulders relaxed a bit after hearing the good news.

“You'll have to come with me now , I have some questions to ask" said Dr. l/n . She needed to know what exactly caused this.

“We need to see hyung first” the young yet intimidating guy proclaims.

“sure this way , but only two of you can enter as we can not have he patient feeling overwhelmed” (reader) sighs yet expresses her duties.

“I"ll go check on him guys” states the young guy

“I"ll accompany you !" Another voice asserts . He looked mature , maybe he is the eldest .

Dr l/n leads the way to the operating room where he patient lies . Upon reaching the guys rush towards him while she stays back just to observe.

Meanwhile Jay finally regained his consciousness back and opened his eyes , to be met with a sight of an angel , or so he thought.

Was he already in heaven? Oh he can't be with the number of crimes he has committed. So who is this angel like individual?

Upon seeing his eyes open , the other two individuals rush towards him.

“Jay! Are you okay?” questions the elder guy

Oh so his name is Jay - thinks (reader)

The younger one hits him “ofcourse he is not fine heeseung hyung , would you be fine if you were shot?”

“I'm just trying to be caring Jungwon!”

There goes their introduction too.

Despite the chaos and danger that surrounds him, Jay is captivated by her grace and skill, feeling a stirring within him that he's never experienced before.

As Jay awakens in the recovery room, his thoughts are consumed by Dr. L/n . Entranced by her beauty and kindness, he becomes obsessed with the idea of making her his own, convinced that she is the one who can bring light into his dark world afterall she's the one who brought him back to life right?

Jay is occupied with the thoughts of his newfound obsession, but his is brought back to reality by his two companions inquiring about his condition. To which he replies that it's fine because he can't seem to focus on anything else than the angel standing infront of his eyes.

He's observing her - Her beautiful face as if carved especially by God , every inch of her face and body screams perfection to him. Her shiny black lucious hair which turns brownish under the lights , her small button nose , or her eyes - she possesses brown almond-shaped eyes, framed delicately by medium-length eyelashes that accentuate her gaze. Her lips, adorned with a soft shade of pink, exude a subtle allure, adding a touch of warmth to her features.

Oh he was down bad for her . Was this what people refer to as love at first sight?

A knock interrupts all their activities.

“We all need you outside , the patient needs to rest and we need your statement” says a nurse

They bid their byes and inform him that he'll be out soon but all he can think about is how to get his hands on his angel and make her his.

----

The interrogation is stopped. The individuals were influential people and so they can do whatever they wished and they did not wish for this information to be out so they hushed everyone with their power. They wanted jay to be safe so they commanded for him to be shifted at their house where a doctor would help him if needed and fortunately for Jay , (reader) was chosen since she operated on him.

----

The next day , Jay is shifted to the nursery that is located in his big mansion. (Reader) was surprised at how big the mansion was , so they were rich rich.

Upon entering she also noticed alot of individuals wearing black blazer with guns in their hands . Were they that rich that they needed bouncers? The girl thought .

She helped Jay get comfortable and brought him lunch in time . While feeding him , she decided to interrogate him personally, maybe he could provide her with some information.

(Reader): Mr. Jay, can you recount the events leading to your injury?

Jay: It was a confrontation with a rival organization. We were negotiating a business deal when things turned violent.

(Reader): Were there any specific triggers that escalated the situation?

Jay: It seemed like a premeditated ambush. They were armed and ready when we arrived at the meeting point.

(Reader): Did you have any indication of hostility prior to the encounter?

Jay: Not explicitly, but tensions have been escalating between our groups for some time.

(Reader): I see. And how did you manage to escape the altercation?

Jay: I made a split-second decision to flee when the gunfire erupted, sustaining this injury in the process.

(Reader) : and what exactly do you do if I may ask?

Jay: You'll get know soon.

He expressed making (reader) frown . Why is it not the right time? What does he do that can't be spoken casually? Her thoughts are interrupted when someone comes barging in the room.

“Jay hyung I'm glad you are alright, we are planning to make them regret their actions by acquiring their company and killing them”

Her eyes widen at the word killing that the younger individual just slipped so casually. Was she in danger? Are these criminals?

“You should really read the room and check your surroundings before you speak Niki” said Jay rather calmly .

“i know I said soon but i didn't know it would be this soon , but now you know I guess. I am Jay Park - a mafia , a criminal or whatever your vocabulary describes individuals like me, but don't be scared , we won't harm you” he said with a eeire smile

All the words went from one ear and escaped through another , all (reader) heard was that he's a mafia. Confused and terrified, she finds herself thrust into a nightmare as Jay reveals his true identity but she knew better , she needed to act smartly and calmly. She took a deep breath .

“That's none of my business Jay , although I'm glad that I'm reassured about my safety”

Despite her initial fear, she senses a vulnerability within him so she doesn't ponder further . Niki mutters an apology and quickly leaves before he gets yelled at.

“I"ll be leaving tomorrow either way” speaks yn

“No you're not” Jay replies casually as if it was supposed to be common sense

“Umm yes I am , a nurse would be replacing me tomorrow” She filled him in with the necessary information

“No you won't ever be leaving me , this is your house from now on”

Her eyes widen at the words that left his mouth but later she started laughing.

“Omg you had me there Jay , I must say . You have a great sense of humour” she stopped laughing when she noticed Jay's face remained monotonous and serious . No sign of humour could be sensed from him.

“you're joking right?” questions yn in disbelief

“Whatever you want to think but you aren't going anywhere . If you can't piece it together , I'll piece it out for you . I love you and now you are mine ”

Would reader give Jay a chance ? Or would he need a second chance?

[entitled-fangirl]

Two idiots in love. (P5)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Henry and Sam interrupt the trio's plan. And Joel says something that will either make or break what he has with the reader.

Warning: blood, guns, Infected, fighting, cursing

Masterlist

Part 1 and 6

.........................................................

Joel was on his knees behind Y/N, digging through her hair, checking the injury on the back of her head. "Well, good news. Just a little scrape. Head bleeds more than the rest of the body, so it only looks like it's bad."

She hummed before looking over her shoulder at him. When she felt him staring at her, she completely swiveled on the ground to face him. His eyes were studying her closely.

She sighed, "…why do you do that?"

His eyebrows furrowed, "Do what?"

She wasn't sure how to even explain her thoughts, so she dropped it, "Just… nothing."

Joel didn't want to push her anymore than she already had been today, so he dropped it, too. "Go lay down, Darlin."

She smiled, standing up, "…There's that accent again."

He scoffed under his breath, standing too. 

This seemed to be the longest Ellie had been quiet. So, she took it upon herself to break the moment, "How long are we gonna be here?"

Joel sighed, "We'll survey the roof in the morning."

Then he started scattering glass around the door, leading all the way to their makeshift beds, which consisted of old couch cushions. 

The sound of glass falling was killing their ears, and finally, Ellie yelled out, "Joel!"

He stopped, "What?"

"What are you doing?"

"I don't want someone sneaking' up on us while we're sleepin'."

"Oh! I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch." She got a smirk, "Are you sure you're gonna hear it?"

"Of course, I'll hear it. That's the damn point."

…

Joel woke up to the sound of Y/N's panicked voice. "Joel…?"

"JOEL!"

His eyes opened.

Ellie was held at gunpoint by a man in his twenties.

Y/N was still seated on the ground with her hands up in surrender.

Joel turned.

A young boy held a gun to Joel's head.

The man spoke up quickly, "Eyes on me."

Joel simply stared at him, determining his next move.

The man continued, "You don't have to worry about what to say. We don't wanna hurt you. We wanna help you."

Joel's voice was strained, "Okay…"

"Okay… um… I don't know what the next step is with something like this, but… if I lower my gun… We didn't hurt you, so you don't hurt us, right?"

Joel's eyes never left the man. "That's right."

The man tilted his head in panic, "That's a weird fucking tone, man."

Ellie spoke up, "That's just the way he sounds. He has an asshole voice. Joel, tell him he's okay."

"Everything is great."

Y/N looked over her shoulder. "Joel…"

The man was confused, "Fuck. Okay. I'm gonna trust you."

He began to sign to the boy. They communicated back and forth a few times before he spoke up again, "Okay. But if you guys try anything… yeah?"

Silence ensued before the man motioned for the boy to step back. 

Joel's jaw clenched when they didn't pull their guns away, "Can I sit up?"

"…Yeah. Slow. Get up slow."

Joel did so, keeping his hands raised, "Who are you?"

"My name's Henry. That's my brother, Sam."

…

The five sat in the building around a lantern, eating rations.

"Where did you get these?" Henry asked.

"From Bill," Ellie answered. "He's dead."

Joel reached out, giving the rest of his portion to Sam, who took it happily. He motioned to Henry.

Henry spoke up again, "He says thank you. I'm guessing you don't have much, so, this means a lot."

Ellie smiled, "How old is he?"

"He's eight."

"Cool. I'm Ellie."

Henry's eyes moved to Y/N, waiting for an introduction. 

She felt his gaze, "Oh. Uh. Y/N."

When Joel didn't answer, Ellie slapped his leg.

He grunted. "I'm Joel. Look, you ate, we didn't kill each other, let's call this a win-win and move on."

Henry nodded, "Well, I'm betting that y'all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun's up… I'll show you one."

…

"Highways. Downtown. Us." Henry pointed out on his makeshift map. "This whole are belongs to Kathleen."

Y/N spoke up, "She's in charge?"

Joel wrapped his arm around her waist slowly and unknowingly, as if instinct. She in turn, leaned against his side.

Henry nodded, "Leader of the resistance. So. How do we get across?" He signed to Sam.

Sam wrote on his paper tablet the word tunnels.

Joel scowled, "Kansas City has a subway?"

"No, maintenance tunnels."

"Alright. Great plan. So what do you need me for?"

Henry sighed, "You noticed anything strange about this city?"

Ellie hummed, "No infected?"

"Oh, there's infected."

Y/N connected the dots, "But not on the surface…"

Henry nodded, "Exactly."

Joel was growing angry, "So you want US going in a tunnel?"

"Everyone thinks that it's full of Infected, but I know it's not. They cleared it out like… three years ago."

Joel scoffed.

"Okay, so maybe there's one or two. That's why you're here."

"And what if there's more?"

"Like those ones that see like a bat?" Ellie asked.

Henry stepped back, "Wait. You ran into a clicker?"

Ellie smiled, "Two of 'em."

"And you're still alive. See? If it gets bad, we turn around."

Joel's scowl never left, "So THAT'S your plan?"

Y/N grabbed Joel's hand. "Joel…? Can we..?"

He leaned down, "Yeah, uh. Give us a minute"

The two walked out of the room into the hallway.

Joel sighed, "I don't know about this, sweetheart."

"Me neither."

He stared at her, "Tell me what's going on in that little head of yours."

"It's dicey but… it's all we have, isn't it? And that would make four people dependent on you."

He nodded, "How do you know we can trust this guy?"

She smiled, "Look at him, Joel. He wouldn't hurt a fucking fly. The guy is harmless."

"What if he harms you?"

She stopped. "Is that what you're worried about?"

Joel sighed, "I'm always worried. About you," he stops, trying to cover the meaning of his words, "…and Ellie. You and Ellie."

"Well," she continued, "Trust me about this one thing. When have I steered you wrong?"

Joel stepped back in thought, "That one time when-"

"-Yeah. Okay. I heard enough." She walked past him into the room. "Henry, we'll do it."

Joel was so blindly in love with her. 

…

Here they sat in a safe room in the tunnel, waiting for daylight to end.

Y/N still hadn't recovered from yesterday's events, so Joel was insistent that she rest.

But when she tired to lay on the ground, he held her up, dragging her over to the table as he sat in a chair.

He pulled her into his lap, "Floor's too cold. You'll get sick."

That's how she ended up asleep in his lap, her head tucked in the crook of his neck as she slumbered.

"You know," Henry said, "I didn't take you as the… caring type."

Joel scoffed, "What?"

"With your… your wife," he pointed to Y/N in his lap, "and your daughter," pointing to Ellie.

Joel's voice hardened, "This isn't my family."

Henry stepped back from the chair, "Sorry, man. I… I just thought-"

"-well, you thought wrong."

He thought Y/N was asleep, but she wasn't. 

And she heard every word.

…

The group exited the tunnels, beyond happy that their plan was working.

Ellie smiled, "So, cross the river, and then what? Where are you guys gonna go?"

"Don't know yet," Henry thought, "Probably gonna head toward-"

Gunshot.

They all ducked.

Joel grabbed at each person, "Move. Move! GO!"

They hid behind a car.

Henry was panicked, "Where is that coming from?"

Joel turned, "Shut up."

He turned to Ellie and Y/N, "You don't move, and he's not gonna hit you. I'm gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back."

"But if you go out there, he's gonna kill you." Ellie protested.

"It's dark and he has shit aim. No one is gonna kill me." He leaned towards her, "Do you trust me?"

She nodded.

He turned to Y/N, "You'll be alright."

She leaned in towards him, "Just… be careful."

He reached forward, taking a strand of her hair in between his fingers and studying it, as if it will be his last chance to. "I will be."

…

Joel's voice was heard from their hiding place, "RUN!"

Y/N's head perked up, "Ellie. We gotta go."

Headlights.

And soon, a snow plough began clearing out the cars leading up to the four.

They ran as fast as they could, hearing Joel firing at the car from his place in the house.

He managed to hit the driver, making the vehicle crash into the house.

It caused an explosion.

Joel watched carefully trying to locate Y/N and Ellie through the smoke.

Kathleen exited her vehicle, soldiers following suit.

And the four were hiding behind a car.

Henry spoke up, "I'll come out! Just… let the others go."

Kathleen smiled, "No. Sorry. The girls are with the man who killed Bryan. And Sam… well… Sam is with you."

"You don't understand!"

The snow plough suddenly fell through the building and into the tunnel, causing a massive hole to show.

And the sound of Infected.

The four began to run as Infected ran out from the tunnels.

In the chaos, Y/N had lost Ellie. 

She made it to the tree line, looking back for her.

When Ellie was nowhere, she grumbled, taking out her gun from her pack, and going back out.

She dodged Infecting, shooting at some as she went.

When one grabbed at her arm, a bullet moved straight through its head.

Joel.

She looked up to the house in gratitude before continuing.

She finally found Ellie stabbing at Infected that were trying to attack Henry and Sam. She ran as fast as she could to them, helping Ellie finish the job. "C'mon."

Y/N led them all back to the tree line. They were only feet away when Kathleen stopped them, her gun aimed carefully. "Stop."

They watched an Infected jump at her and begin to rip at her face. 

They were all frozen.

Joel grabbed at Y/N from behind. "This way. Now. Move!"

She jumped, turning around as they others began to run, "Thank you."

He nodded "Let's go."

…

"Think they'll be okay?" Henry asked.

They all sat in an abandoned house, the kids in the bedroom reading a comic book, the adults in the living room.

"Yeah. It's easier when you're a kid anyway."

Y/N stood on shaky legs, "I need fresh air."

Joel's eyes watched her carefully, "Hey. Don't wander, alright?"

She turns back with a defiant look, "Not like you'd care."

And she shut the door behind her.

…

Joel stepped outside a little while later. 

Y/N was sitting on the porch steps, staring out at the stars.

He stood behind her, "You alright?"

She turned as far as she could towards him, "I'm fine."

Joel didn't like that answer.

He sighed, moving to sit next to her. When she didn't look at him, he grabbed her jaw gently, pulling it towards him. His voice was soft, as it always was with her, "Hey. You're obviously not fine. And what the hell was that back there? Tell me what's going on."

She stared into his eyes, trying to decide what to say to him.

He tried to make her sit in the silence, but even he couldn't handle it. "How am I supposed to fix what's wrong if I don't know what it is, sweet girl?"

She scoffed, "I just wish you'd stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

She turned her head away from his hand, "Quit looking at me… like… like that."

Joel looked confused, "I don't get it."

She sighed deeply, "You look at me and you talk to me like… like I mean something to you, Joel. It's frustrating."

He leaned back in shock. "You… you think I… I don't care about you?"

She laughed slightly, standing up and walking out into the yard slightly, "You've made that much clear, Joel. You said it yourself."

How could she think that? Joel began to ponder anything and everything he's ever said to her. It was angering him, "I've never said those words to you. I care about you."

"Only because I'm Tess's sister."

"Watch. Your. Mouth."

She paused, watching Joel stand on the stairs. Her tone dropped to a quiet mumble, "I think I've been on this journey long enough. I should just go."

Joel stepped down one of the stairs, "I've already said it before. You're not going anywhere. I want you here."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Joel!" She yelled, "You don't even consider me family!"

Oh. 

She heard that.

He sighed, trying to control his tone, "No one wants you to leave. I need you on this trip… and Ellie. She needs you."

"I just want you to be honest."

"What do you want from me, baby?"

They just stared at each other.

"I want you to tell me what you want from me, Joel."

He stood in thought, before descending the stairs. "There are no wants in this world now, sweet girl. You and I both know that."

"You don't need me to be around. I'm extra weight."

"LISTEN TO ME WHEN I TELL YOU YOU'RE FUCKING NOT!"

Her eyes hardened at his loud tone. "Don't try to spare my feelings. You don't want me around and I see it. Just…" her eyes saddened at his look, "…stop looking at me like that. Please."

She moved past him, going back up the porch stairs.

"Darlin', wait."

She sighed, turning around.

But she was thrown off by the sudden feeling of his lips on hers. 

One hand wrapped around her waist, the other across her back, pulling her closer.

He pulled away.

"There are no wants in this world, but I do. I want you."

Her eyes scanned his face inquisitively, checking for the truth.

"You can look all day, sweet girl. I'll always tell you the truth. Please, stay."

She nodded, pulling away from his arms. "Okay. I'll… I'll stay."

His shoulders slumped slightly. "Uh...good."

He moved past her to go inside, but she gently tugged at his sleeve.

He turned to her.

And she kissed him back.

He hummed into the kiss, pulling her to him once again.

He had always wondered how soft her lips were. 

And now he knew. 

She pulled away this time, "Let's go inside. I'm fucking cold."

Joel chuckled. He shrugged off his jacket, placing around her shoulders. "I think I like it out here more." He gently kissed her lips again. "I'll keep you warm."

She smiled, "I love when you look at me like that."

.....................................................

Part 6

Tag list: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Hi so this is my first ever request idk if I’m supposed to ask from somewhere else but I was wondering if you could do a Bau find out reader has a criminal past that got expunged or something please?

Hiya, I feel like this absolutely ages to do, I'm so sorry but hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Description: Reader has a slightly colourful history

Warnings: discussions of previous criminal activity when reader was a minor (theft/burglary, drugs hinted at if you squint, beating up individuals), guns mentioned, death of someone reader knows, child abuse mentioned (nothing 'on screen')

You look at the photos in front of you. A John Doe, about ten years older than you. Swallowing slightly, you try to build up the courage to tell the team you know him. That you know exactly who this man was.

"You okay, kid?" Morgan asks, you look up, giving a quick nod.

"Oh, er, yeah. Yeah, I just, I know him." You know they're going to ask questions, but that's the last thing you want right now. You don't want to explain. You don't want to tell them. They'd look at you differently. Part of you worried they'd no longer even want you on the team.

Hotch frowns, studying your expression. "You know him?"

"Yeah." You clear your throat slightly. "Er, his name's Ryan Williams."

"How did you know him?"

You look away from Hotch, back to the photo. "We... worked together,"

You watch the team raise an eyebrow. "Worked together?" Prentiss asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep."

"And what was this job?" Rossi chimed in.

"Um..." You pause, trying to figure out how to word it. "It, er..."

You try to ignore the team furrowing their eyebrows and frowning at you. "It...?" Morgan said, looking at you expectantly.

"It might have something to do with a man named Chris Miller," You said, trying to change the topic as much as you could.

"And this Chris Miller, what's he like?"

"Oh, an absolute dickhead." You paused, clearing your throat when you remembered you were supposed to be professional. "I mean, we had our differences."

The team exchanged a concerned glance. "(Y/N), you're going to need to be transparent with us."

"What- about what?"

"How you know Williams."

"I told you, I know him from work."

"And the truth?"

You look at the team, debating whether or not this was a good idea. It probably wasn't, but you knew Hotch wasn't exactly going to drop the topic. "We did work together. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"It's a little complicated." You said, giving a small shrug. "We worked for a man, Chris Miller. We'd also work closely with his son, Danny."

"What sort of work?"

"Odd jobs. Whatever needed doing." You said, swallowing slightly. "Delivering packages, picking things up."

"And?"

"And, what?"

"There was clearly more." Hotch stated. "And don't think we don't know what what sort of 'packages' you're talking about."

"Look, we did some shitty stuff." You gave a small shrug. You try to act nonchalant about it. You weren't proud of your past. You focus your attention on the table in front, finding it easier to look at that, rather than the disappointed gazes of your team. You didn't want to see them look at you differently.

"Like what?"

"We stole stuff, bikes, cars, broke into a house once or twice." You admitted, a light blush tinting your cheeks in shame. "You got a cut of whatever the total of what you took."

"You burgled."

"Technically, yes." You answered, voice hesitant. Hotch frowned, eyebrows drawing in.

"Anything else?"

"We were told to rough some guys up a few times." You admitted. You hear Garcia draw in a sharp breath.

"And this Chris, how did you know him?"

"He was the ring leader." You answered, "You did what he told you, no questions asked."

"And Ryan?"

"He also worked for Chris."

Two days later, it was revealed that the unsub was in fact Danny Miller. Once it was established that he was the one doing the killing, finding him was fairly easy. And the next afternoon you had him surrounded in a warehouse, trying to talk him down.

"Danny." You say, walking into the room. Danny's attention is immediately on you, as is his gun. "Danny, you need to put the gun down."

"Don't act like you're any better than me, (Y/N)." Danny snapped.

"Danny, just- come on, man. Just put the gun down." You give a sigh, watching the older man's slightly shaking hand.

"You're not better than me." Danny growls.

Knowing Hotch and Morgan weren't exactly going to put their weapons down, you lowered yours. "Come on, Danny. Don't be an idiot. Just put it down."

"You don't know what he was like." Danny glared, hand still trembling. "He was a son of a bitch."

"I know, Danny. I know."

"No you don't!" Danny exclaimed, gun now pointing at you. Morgan's finger itched near the trigger, just in case.

"Then tell me."

"You know how your dad was?" You feel Hotch and Morgan's eyes flick to you for a split second. You swallow.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, well he was worse."

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not. You got out." Danny jabbed the gun towards you as he snarled.

"If you do this, you let him win." You state, "If you pull that trigger and my team mates shoot you, he's won. He's won and you won't get to look him in the eye and tell him how much of a bastard he is."

It takes a few more minutes, but it's the thought of spiting his father that gets Danny to lower the gun and Morgan immediately pounces, cuffing him.

Hotch wait until you're all flying back on the jet before he approaches you about the topic, with the team all trying their best to look like they're not listening. But for profilers, they can't act for shit.

"We need to talk about your previous record." Hotch stated, placing a file in front you you. "I had Garcia unseal the records."

"That's not fair."

"During the interviewing process you were specifically asked if you had a criminal record."

"It was all expunged-"

"(Y/N), that's irrelevant, I still should have been told,"

"Except it doesn't exist anymore, Hotch." You rub a hand over your face, wishing that you had just stayed home.

"It still matters,"

"No, it doesn't, I was a kid." You say, "I was fifteen, I made some stupid decisions to try and survive,"

"(Y/N)-"

"No, Hotch, it doesn't matter. It doesn't exist anymore."

"It was still important for me to know."

"Why? Why was it so important? I was- I was fifteen,"

"It's important because it still happened."

"I was just trying to survive." You looked at him. "I was just trying to survive. I went about it the wrong way, yes. And I'm not proud of it by any means, but I was fifteen and I didn't know what else to do."

"You still should have declared it."

"Do I still have this job?"

"Excuse me?" Hotch asked, frowning in confusion.

"Am I fired?"

"No."

"Then, respectfully sir, it was expunged. It doesn't exist anymore, my slate is clean. And you getting Garcia to unseal the records was unfair, unnecessary, and hurtful." You state, pausing for a short breath. "To me, that means that everything I've worked hard for - proving myself in this job - immediately went out the window the second you learnt something negative about my past."

And with that, you turn your head, deciding to look out of the window instead, signaling to your boss that the conversation was over.

[celaenaeiln]

Am I interested in Dick Grayson's innovativeness and how that makes him a terrifying opponent?

Nah, not really, no, it's no- EXCEPT THAT I AM!

I love your analysis and honestly, I always surf through the dick Grayson tag once a day to see if u have posted. Pls drop the innovatiness wala analysis. I would absolutely eat it up

ADSAJHFGAJLHADJLHA YOU CAN'T SEDUCE ME LIKE THAT-MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT!

But I am here to deliver *bows*

Let's start this off with a bang

Dick is completely naked except for a towel and with one (well defined) leg he hooks the handle of the beer bucket and sends it smashing into Midnighter to stop him from using the knife on another person.

Pure. Fucking. Platinum.

That move was so delicious, there's an ease-fluidity-grace-to that split second movement. Also notice how accurate his aim is despite swinging it with the arc of his toes. The bucket slammed right into the medulla oblongata, or more specifically the pyramidal tracts which are crucial for controlling voluntary muscular movements. Nerves from the brain cross over at that area as they go down and then synapse onto other nerves that are responsible for controlling muscles when they leave the spinal cord. The precision at which he aimed the bucket is glorious. And with what? His feet.

The only reason Midnighter wasn't injured is because he is a meta which is the point. Otherwise Dick wouldn't have aimed there unless he was fighting an enemy.

Oh that brings me to my next point.

Dick has extraordinary control of his actions

He's so right though. Nightwing doesn't need to kill because fighting is too easy for him. I swear he has some kind of messed up idea (aside from his need to be absolutely good) that killing someone with a gun would take the joy out of fighting. He loves to live life on the hardest mode only.

The rapid fire throw of the gun, calculating the distance, time, velocity of return, and angle? I mean I studied physics and calculating even half of that on paper is a headache. The fact that he did it in one second? It's extraordinary. Things that are pure, dumb luck to literally everyone else is carefully calculated at a speed faster than light, making it look like luck. Damn.

Yeah.

Forget Slade. Midnighter is my new favorite nemesister.

DO YOU SEE WHAT HE FOUGHT WITH?! WHILE DEATHSTROKE AND BLACK ADAM WERE FIGHTING WITH META POWERS AND A CURSED SWORD, HE FUCKING WRAPPED CHAINS AROUND HIMSELF LIKE A BOSS AND WHIPPED THE SHIT OUT OF THAT MAN.

Please take a moment of silence to relish in this sight.

Dick's innovativeness is a formidable skill when fighting allies.

Dick and Ras are evenly matched in sword fighting.

Wait, wait. I don't need any doubts about Dick's strength in sword fighting so I'm going to include a couple panels here:

Dick fights Azrael to a standstill which is absolutely incredible because Azrael solos. He's gone through many upgrades and skills and is one of the best fighters ever. He's even defeated Bruce.

He also defeated Jason and Tim together in Batman and Robin Eternal.

This is just another point towards the fact that Dick actually won in his fight against Bruce before going into Spyral. They weren't holding back.

Oh yeah. Ra's vs Dick panel, Dick and Ra's aren't going anywhere because Dick is a swordsman equivalent to one of the best in the world. So how do you win a draw? By one upping the opponent. He swings his foot up in midair and completely defeats him. "But that isn't a defeat...Ra's just stopped fighting!" It was complete defeat because Ra's is intelligent and knows when he can't win. Also they have been fighting for a while until they reached the breaking point in the battle. This move is a show of how Dick has that just one inch more that will lead him to be a victor.

Ra's honors Dick so much he tried to give the sword he used to fight with Batman because he thinks Dick is worthy of it. Can anyone receive a higher honor than this from that man?

He'll also use the broken glass of a car window to take down his opponent. If that's not innovation, then what is?

But one last thing since a car door cannot be considered innovative these days.

sticks. He literally took two twigs off the ground to use as weapons against his highly skilled, one of the best assassins, great-grandfather who is fighting with daggers in his hands and all over his body.

But you know the best part?

He draws his opponent to a tie. A tie? Not a win? No it was win after, considering he used his relative's falling body as a launching pad in the middle of the air when they were falling off the bridge to grab onto the bridge with the help of his friend. So it was his win but it's insane how incredible Dick's skills are.

It's really innovative because who thinks of using twigs and winning? Let me also clarify another point. Dick could've used the knives he'd gotten from his talon suit and thoroughly won because when he was brain washed he almost killed Red Condor from how skilled he was but he conscientiously chose to use twigs. In a sword fight. This man.

His improvisation is an asset that many have come to know him for and classify him as dangerous because he can fight with anything, anywhere, and win.

Something I want to end with. Dick only fights people who are stronger than him. I know he's fought mob characters and stuff but his enemies? They are all metas, assassins, skilled fighters, Russian Black Ops, and more. Essentially, people who are the top of the class in their categories and him defeating them equally and fairly is the reason why he has the respect of his enemies. He's just that good.

[rubydubydoo122]

could you talk more about fanon vs canon tim drake? i havent gotten too far into the comics yet but have seen a lot of him (mis?)characterized by others

Just a preface, I'm not gonna crucify any Tim fans who find themselves writing these tropes, because it is fandom, and everyone's allowed their own interpretations of the character, I'm just personally not a fan of these takes on Tim because in my mind they just don't make sense for the character. If anyone has differing opinions, feel free to (politely) explain them to me, because I'm happy to hear them.

Ok, so much like Fanon Dick Grayson, there are two versions of fanon Tim Drake.

There's version A.) where where he's one minor inconvienience away from becoming a supervillain (I understand where this one comes from and I don't HATE it) and there's version B.) where he was criminally neglected as a kid and is infantalized (This version of Tim I Loathe)

I'll start with version A. I see where it comes from. Mainly the Red Robin 2009 run, but we have to remember that Tim was grieving pretty much everyone close to him during that era. He was being self destructive because of that grief, and yeah, grief changes a person, but Tim is the type of character who would still turn out good despite all the hurt handed to him. Oh! But Gun Batman-- Tim actively chose against being that. He would rather kill himself than let himself become a version of Batman who went against everything Batman stood for. I know there are multiple storylines where Tim meets and evil future version of himself, but those versions would constantly be like a weight on him to be good. All in all, if I had to choose between the fanon Tim Drakes, I would choose villain Tim Drake, as long as it's done in more of a character-study way rather than a 'He deserves to go evil, as a treat' because it's an interesting take with the right motives.

Now onto Version B. Loser Tim Drake. The reason I Loathe this version of Tim is because it usually involves Characters Assassination of the characters around him. Ok, so do I agree that Tim Drake was somewhat neglected? Yes. But goddamit, the way I see Jack and Janet portrayed, you would think that they were running from the feds or something. They were good people, just bad parents. Maybe a little immature to raise a child, but it wasn't to the point where they would probably need to call CPS. Neglect isn't black and white, and the Drakes fell into that grey-- which I personally believe to be a lighter shade. You do have to remember that a lot of Tim's introduction was written in the 90's where parenting styles were a lot different compared to Today. Still, they sent him to boarding school, meaning they made sure that some form of adult was taking care of Tim AND a lot of people try to make Jack Drake out to be the villain for stopping Tim from being Robin, and blackmailing Bruce for it, but... It's What Any Sane Parent Would Do? I'm 18, but I know if I ever had a kid, and then fell into a coma and then woke up and found out that my Kid was fighting crime in one of the most CRIME RIDDEN CITIES alongside my middle-aged neighbor who dresses up like a furry I WOULD CALL THE FUCKING COPS. But enough about the Drakes. Because not only does Loser Tim Drake assassinate their character, but why is 17 year old Tim the victim when it comes to 10 year old Damian-- "Oh he tried to kill him' They're both trained by assassins. They're both trained. They're both Trained. Why Is a Junior/Senior in high school hurt by the actions of a 5th grader. I have a similar age gap with my younger brother. We have had pretty brutal fights and the next day we're fine. I'm not going to get into "Attack on Titans Tower AUs" but I will say this, Every Time I Start To Read One Of Those, I Lose Half Of My Hair Because of How Bad the Characterization Of Both Jason And Tim are. Please, Read, The, Comic. Jason Wasn't Trying To Kill Tim. If He Was, Tim would Be Dead. ANd Tim was Snarking Jason Through The Entire Confrontation. Lastly, Why Has DICK 'BAMF' GRAYSON TURNED INTO TIM"S NUMBER ONE OP????!!!! DIck IS LITERALLY TiM's ChiLDHOOD HEro!!!!! NoT BAtMAN, DICK GRAYSON. And like, not only that, Dick and Tim are the most brotherly. I'm Begging, Please go read a 90's comic. Why is it, the only time I see Dicks Manipulative side in fanon, It's in opposition to Tim? I bet it's bc of Teen Titans Go. I bet the only Tim and Dick interaction they've seen is TTG Robin going "No BOdy cARes AbOuT TiM DrAke"

Sorry that ended up becoming rant-y, and less objective. Since actually reading comics, fanon Tim Drake gets on my nerves.

[peaxhygirl]

𝙰𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾 𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝙰𝚂 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 - 𝚅𝙸𝙲𝙴 (4)

: ̗̀➛𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚏𝚎����𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝙾𝙲

: ̗̀➛𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: [WARNING] There is smut present in this chapter.

: ̗̀➛𝙰𝙽: This is also long, maybe longer than part 3-- I may have over indulged. Hope it doesn't suck!!

Raven laid in her bed doing a mental recap of the night. How had they gone from fighting like cats and dogs, to not speaking, to her being on the verge of begging him to fuck her on the spot just to relieve that dull throb he'd stirred up.

Every thought she had of the night made her feel like she was right there on that dance floor all over again. She could still feel the scruff of his beard tickling her cheek, and it reignited the goosebumps on her skin. She'd been constantly going back and forth about what would drive him to do such a thing. Constantly trying to explain away his actions so she could get some peace of mind and go to bed.

She was coming up with nothing. "You know what, I'm just gonna go ask him." She spoke to herself before rising from her bed. She took one step forward before puasing to look at herself in the mirror. "Girl, no the fuck you not."

The soft knock on the door of his bedroom caused Armando to sigh in annoyance. "If it's Dorn, it's too late to talk about techy shit. If it's Marcus, I don't want to hear about something you weren't even going to tell me, man." His words were met with a brief silence before the door began to creek open.

He didn't move from his position, laid on his back with both hands behind his head. He was relaxed, which was a very rare occasion, so he wasn't going to break that. He simply turned his head to not see either of the men, but to his surprise Raven slowly stepped in.

Even in the shadows and moonlight that seeped through the window, her face was still gorgeous. He eyed her briefly. Noting that she only wore a large t-shirt that read "Ken's Mojo Dojo Casa House." Whatever the fuck that meant. "Come in, blackbird." He rasped.

His eyes were trained on her, this wasn't the same woman. She was more timid than usual, softly closing the door and coming to sit on the edge of the bed near him. "Why do you keep calling me blackbird?" Her face softly contorting in confusing. "Because your name is Raven, genius." He smirked.

Raven stared at him for a moment, how was he so casual with everything that'd happened tonight. She had a million questions, and she couldn't think of a single one to start with. "I--I'm sorry for calling you a drug dealer. That wasn't a nice thing to say to someone who's trying to turn their life around." Not only was her demeanor different but so was her voice, it was soft, almost as if she was scared to break the silence of the night.

A warming balm spread across the male's heart. In his life he hadn't gotten many apologies, even when he was clearly wronged. So, hearing this from the same women who threatened to pull her gun out on him just a few days ago was surprising yet appreciated.

Raven on the other hand couldn't deny that this was a beautiful man. That Lowery DNA was something special. She studied each of his features thoroughly in the darkness of the room. Those thick and defined eyebrows accented by dark curly lashes always caught her attention. She hadn't realized how hard she was staring until Armando cleared his throat, ripping her from her trance. "I appreciate that, but tell me, little one. Did you just come here to apologize?"

With that simple question her throat grew dry and her face hot. Why did she come here? What was this going to accomplish? She'd spent ten minutes arguing with herself about this and not once had this crossed her mind. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, what the fuck was she supposed to say?

Armando sat up from his position, his bare muscular chest visible to her doe eyes. "Nah, I know that look. You're looking a little needy right now, baby." His hand gently gripped her chin while he observed her face.

She was practically spewing pheromones all over this room. "Just say the word and I can fix that for you. Cause God knows I've been fantasizing about these lips since we left that club." He spoke to her in the sultriest tone she'd ever herd. His rough thumb pad pressing into her lip and pulling it away from her teeth. His body was now on autopilot as he moved closer to her. Closing the gap between them. Thier lips inches apart, close enough to just gently brush together as his spoke. "Can I take care of you?"

The woman had no audible response, only leaning forward to fully close the space between their lips.

The kiss between these two was much like their dynamics. Feverish, rough, passionate, and yearning for more. Armando wasted no time stripping Raven of her clothes, delighted to see that she wore noting under her shirt.

The dress she wore that night had done no justice compared to the masterpiece of her bare body. "Just relax, baby." His voice was muffled while he kissed along her inner thigh. His eyes darted from her anxious face to the beautiful pink junction between her legs. Just looking at her he could see her juices coating glistening folds.

He licked over his lips before offering her the same release. His tongue traveling up her center. The soft moan that filled the space when he'd brushed against her swollen bud was music to him, it was a sound he'd commit to memory for the rest of his life.

And Raven, poor Raven had lost all of her bravado. Hell, Armando was sucking it out of her- literally. He licked and sucked along her pussy, teasing her when he'd rotate his tongue just around her clit but not fully attaching his mouth to it, not giving her the suction she'd kill for. "Eres la cosa más dulce que he probado en mi vida, nena." "Armando." She was breathless, doing her best to get out her words as her chest heaved. "P-please."

"Please what?" He questioned with a sinisterly teasing tone. "You want more?" His words were followed behind him plunging two of his thick fingers into her. Immediately, her warm walls squeezed him as his pumped his hand. "Oh god." She cried, moving her hips to meet his motions. Finally, Raven took the moment to gaze down at the male who was already staring at her in hunger. "That's right baby, be a good girl and ride my fucking fingers." A shiver ran down her spine at his words, he was going to drive her insane. "Armando, make me cum." Finally gaining some of her wits back, Raven reached down, locking her fingers into his dark hair pulling him back into her center.

Her assertion of her own dominance in this moment caused Armando's rock-hard length to ache even more as happily obliged. Diving back between her legs. This time, his lips finally wrapped her throbbing bud, sucking roughly and swirling his tongue. His fingers continued their assault on her sopping hole. Curving upwards slightly to gently press into the spongy space of her g-spot. She wouldn't last long with this combination and they both knew it.

Her hips writhing against him, pushing herself farther on to his face. "F-fuck Armando. I'm about to c-" She hadn't even been able to finish her statement before her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks. He felt her contracting around his fingers, her clit throbbing against his tongue as he continued to lap her at juices until this wave of ecstasy subsided. It'd honestly knocked the sound out of her.

Seconds felt like hours to Raven. The pleasure that shot through her body was something no other man had made her feel. She basically had to pry Armando's mouth from her sensitive core feeling breathless, but he only smirked in pride at the whimpering bundle of nerves he'd just turned her into.

Raven sat up on her elbows, still breathing heavily as she glanced down at his exposed erection. She couldn't help but be mesmerized as he stroked himself. He was beautiful, long, thick, and veiny. She gazed up at him through her eyelashes to meet a lustful stare before turning over to all fours. She positioned herself in an arch that left her head flush to the mattress and her pussy and ass propped in the air exposed to him. "Well." She smiled innocently. "Show me what 'cha got."

That was all he needed to hear from her. He wasted no time positioning himself behind the ass that was as beautiful as he thought it would be. He stared down between the two. Watching as he drug the thick pink tip of his length through those slick folds he'd certainly be tasting again. He took a moment to apply the slightest pressure to her entrance before sinking into her.

She fit around him like a glove, squeezing and engulfing him in warmth and wetness. For Raven, he stretched her walls so deliciously she almost started to drool.

Both of them moaning in unison.

Slower strokes started their passionate session, Armando knew he wasn't small by any means and wanted her to comfortably adjust before things truly got started.

The wet sticky sounds of him slowly working into her were pornographic. With growing speed, he felt her grow better. His hands gripped her hips, thumbs digging into her soft skin as the slapping sounds of their bodies colliding together grew louder. "Joder." he growled, his head tilting back with slightly parted lips and closed eyes.

Raven couldn't believe how wet she'd grown; her arousal coated the inside of her thighs and even created a wet spot on the bed below them. Her body was rocked by Armando's powerful thrusts, damn her being sore tomorrow. She'd enjoy whatever he had to offer now. She allowed herself to come up a bit, moving her hips back to now meet his thrusts. "Throw that shit back, mami. Let me see what you can do." A challenge mirroring her own was all she needed. Immediately Raven began to throw her weight back into him, her ass bouncing off was a sight he'd be storing in his memory bank for a lonely night. Their mixed calls of pleasure and obesities filled the room along with the occasional smack of the ass he gave her.

Eventually. they ended up in a position where Armando was kneeling behind the woman who was practically seated into his lap as she bounced. Armando's large hand tangled itself in Raven's hair, yanking her head back to look at him. The sight of her flushed cheeks and a slight sheen of sweat present on her skin drove him crazy. And fuck did she fit him snugly like she was made for him. Not releasing her, he began animalistic thrusts that caused her to bellow out. "Shit.' She cursed. "Cállate, pequeña. Despertarás a los demás."

His own voice was laced with the need to release. Something they both felt coming once he began to throb inside of her. "Fuck, are you about to cum? Please cum in me, I wanna feel it. Please. I wanna feel you." Her begging cut the last remaining shred of control he had. His thrusts becoming sloppy, short, and shallow as he worked towards his own orgasm. One hand stayed tangled in her hair while the other squeezed at her double D breast and pinched at her hardened nipples. As soon as Armando felt the tensing of his abdominal muscles, he also felt the release as he shot his warm load into her. Raven experienced her own secondary orgasm, their bodies already in sync. Her fingers had been working at her clit, but they both knew it was him coating her walls that threw her over the edge.

Heavy breathing filled the room, neither one of them daring to pull away from the other. Armando placed a kiss on the woman's head. Her hair already starting to curl back up. It took a moment, but eventually Armando managed to pull himself and Raven from the bed. Cleaning them both because he'd honestly worn her out. Her attempt to return to her own room was met by Armando following behind her, stating that she might as well put that bonnet on and get comfortable, because he'd be sleeping with her for the night.

𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂

"Eres la cosa más dulce que he probado en mi vida, nena." - You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted, baby.

"Joder." - Fuck

"Cállate, pequeña. Despertarás a los demás." - Quiet down, little one. You'll wake the others.

[cillianhead]

Hii was wondering if you’d do Tommy w/ daddy kink + sex on his desk. Also I’ve been binge reading your fics! Great work <3!

Ask and you shall receive.

VERY EXCITED TO WRITE THIS ONEEEE!!!

Look What You Made Me Do || Thomas Shelby x Reader

warnings: SMUT!!! DubCon, Dark!Tommy, unprotected P in V, mentions of being sexually harassed (not by Tommy), catcalling, possessiveness, degradation, depictions of violence and murder, blood and graphic language describing it, using a gun during sex, slapping, daddy kink, dacryphilia, sort of fluffy at the end, adult content!!!

18+ Minors DNI

Walking back from the markets, you hadn't planned on ending up like this. Running down a dark alley way, trying to get away from a man much taller and stronger than you are. Trying to get away from a man who had yelled "Oi! Let me rip that pretty dress off of that tight little body!"

You had tried to keep walking when you heard it, hoping maybe it wasn't directed at you or you somehow misheard him. Unfortunately, the man kept harassing you, kept getting closer and closer as you kept your head down and picked up your pace. Then his hand brushed your shoulder and you immediately bolted.

You knew you should've agreed to let Tommy come with you.

He was gaining on you fast and oh the irony, you trip and fall, skidding across the damp rough gravel, skinning your hands and knees and bruising the rest of your body, you were sure. You let out a mewl as you felt him grab a hold of your ankle and pull you towards him, further dirtying you and your dress, squeezing your eyes shut, knowing this was the end of the line for you. There was no way you'd be able to fight off this monster. You had accepted your fate. "Now what do ya think yer doin'?" Tommy's voice. At the other end of the alley way. You felt some sort of relief wash over you. "Get your fuckin' hands off my woman."

"Or what?" He boldly spoke back to Thomas Shelby, he had let go of your ankle now, turning to look up at Tommy only to look down the barrel of his gun. "O-Oh...!" What an idiot. "Sorry... mate... only messin' round... tha's all...." His hands were up in the air as Tommy walked him towards a wall. You watched the encounter, wondering if Tommy was really gonna shoot him.

"That's alright, I forgive you." Tommy said sarcastically and smiled coldly before bang, the man dropped dead with a hole in his head. Blood splattered across Tommy's face and clothes, brains coating the ground. You had sat up by now, staring at the dead body in front of you, wide eyed and heart pounding. "Stupid girl." Tommy grabbed you by your wrist, yanking you up onto your feet and pulling you along behind him like a bad dog. "What the hell were ya thinking, hmmm?" You held your head low with embarrassment, relieved Tommy was here to save you but also frightened from what just happened, frightened of what was to come. Disturbed from seeing the lifeless look in the dead man's eyes and the blood pouring out of him like he was a leaky faucet. "Look at what you've made me fuckin' do." Tommy scoffed as you turned a corner, approaching closer to your house. He was covered in scarlet, blood dripping off his nose and chin.

"T-Tommy... he was going to-"

"I know what he was gonna do, keep quiet, girl, I didn't say you could speak." Tommy barked, he shoved you into the house, you tripped a bit over your step, wincing at your aching knees from your rough fall. You looked over to Tommy with watery eyes and a trembling lip. "Oh don't look at me like that, you know what would happen to ya if you went out dressed like that, love." He grumbled as he unbuckled his belt, setting his cap to the side and approaching you slowly with a dark angry look in his eyes. You knew fully what was about to happen.

"I'm sorry..." An abrupt slap to your wet face made you shut up. A small sob and then Tommy dragging you into his study, pressing his lips possessively over yours. You cried into the kiss.

"Such a dumb little girl, you are..." Tommy pushed you down over the desk, your ass perched up in the air for him. "Apologize to daddy... apologize for what you made him do to that man." "I'm so... sorry... daddy!" You cried, tears slipping down your face. Your cheek laid against the cold desk. "I'm really sorry... I didn't... I didn't mean to..." You didn't even know what exactly you were apologizing for but you needed Tommy to forgive you, needed his love and care, you were still startled over what had happened to you. You needed some sort of consoling.

"I know you're sorry," He grunted, you heard him slipping his coat off and pulling his gun out from where it was hidden, placing the thing right besides your head as he pulled down his trousers. "That's why I'm gonna use you however I please until I can find a way to forgive you..."

You just whimpered, feeling him push your dress up to your hips. You felt embarrassed of the underwear you were wearing. A thin lace thong barely covering your quivering pussy, Tommy laughed condescendingly before placing a hard spank on your ass.

"What a fucking whore," He stroked his cock a few times before ripping your pathetic panties off of you, the ripping pulling at your skin uncomfortably. "Fuckin' desperate to be fucked, aren't ya? Did you enjoy being chased down by that man? Did it give you a thrill?" He asked rhetorically.

You were wet enough for him to slip into you but the stretch still alarmed you, wasn't as easy as it usually was. Your tears streamed down your face as he fully pressed into you, cock deep inside your guts, face hurting from how you were pressed up against the desk.

"Daddy...." You sobbed as he began to fuck in and out of you. "Daddy... please... I'm so sorry... so sorry for making you do that!"

Tommy let you have another slap to your ass, pleased with the way it bounced back and the red hand mark left on it. "Fuck..." He hummed with pleasure, fucking his cock into you, hips snapping against your ass. "Such a dumb woman but at least you've got a tight little pussy for me to fill." You gasped at the feeling of the cold metal pressing against your temple, Tommy was holding his pistol right against your fucking head. You trembled with fear. Never once had he done something like this before.

"Tommy... please!" You cried and then immediately regretted what you just said as he pressed the gun even further into your skull, turning off the safety. "Fuck... daddy... I'm so sorry! I'm so unbelievably sorry... daddy! I'll do anything!" You corrected yourself.

Tommy smirked at your pleading, thrusting into you even harder while steadily holding the gun to your head. He was getting off on your sobbing, cock throbbing at how pretty you looked, bent over his desk and crying for him, you looked so beautiful to him. He knew you were getting off on this too, could feel the way your cunt gripped onto him, he could feel the way you gushed around him, getting off on the. feeling of his gun pressed to your pretty little head. "Y'gonna beg to cum f'me, do you understand?"

"Y-Yes!" Nodding desperately.

"Yes what?"

"Yes... daddy!" You cried, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of the cold gun on your head. You didn't think Tommy would actually shoot you but you couldn't be sure. Tommy had never been this rough with you before.

"That's right, I'm your daddy..." Tommy moaned lowly, his other hand was pressed firmly against your lower back, causing you to arch your ass into him even further. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You! Daddy, I belong to you," You were starting to wriggle underneath him without really meaning to, the pleasure and the pain becoming all too much. "Your property... 'm yours."

Tommy hummed, pleased with your answer and placed the gun back down on the desk. You felt like you could finally breathe again, whining as he held both of your hips in his hands now. Fucking into you at a vigorous pace, you could feel yourself begin to come undone.

"All mine," Tommy was moaning louder now, moaning a bit more pathetically, you could feel that he was close too. "Gonna fuckin' cum... gonna cum in ya, love." A spank on your ass. It was time.

"Please... please let me cum... daddy!" You begged, you were so close to falling over the edge, you feared your punishment if you came without permission. "Need to cum... please... pretty please... daddy...!"

"Hmm... I don't know if that's good enough, don't know if you even deserve to cum at all."

"Please... please daddy!" You cried harder, arching your back and wiggling your ass against him. You heard a loud grunt from him as he stilled his hips in you, spraying his seed within you.

"Go on, cum f'me." He managed to get out, still spilling into you himself. You came hard, a crying mess, pussy throbbing around him causing Tommy to fill you even further, cum dripping out of your pulsing sex and onto your sticky thighs.

"Oh daddy..." You sobbed, shaking with pleasure. "I-I love you!"

Tommy pulled out of you slowly, watching the way his semen slowly leaked out of your abused hole. He gathered it on the tip of his fingers before tapping at your lips, opening obediently and licking his digits clean. You hummed with satisfaction at the taste of his sweet cum.

"You did good, love," Tommy said as he fully slid out of his trousers and undid your dress fully. "Let's get you a bath." He carried you bridle style out of his study, not caring that you were both completely nude, didn't care if anyone saw as he walked you into the bathroom.

You were quiet as he sat you both down into the hot bath that eased your aching joints. You cried into his chest, still coming down from everything that happened. Steam filled the bathroom and Tommy stoked your hair gently, placing soft kisses along your scalp.

"I'm... I'm sorry Tommy... I really am."

"It's okay, darling," He kissed your forehead as you looked up at him with those big sad eyes. His heart breaking at the sight. "It's not your fault."

That's all you needed to know that Tommy was never really mad at you in the first place. You helped wash the blood that was still spattered across his face and neck.

"Gun was empty by the way," Tommy chuckled, stroking your cheek. "Would never shoot you, my girl, rather rip out my own heart than have you killed."

You smiled softly, kissing his lips. "It was hot, I enjoyed it." You said reassuringly.

"I love you so much," Tommy whispered. "Would kill anyone for you."

-

[grandlinedreams]

|| this man is an exposed live wire in my brain ok

|| notes: uhh prequel to [this] and [this], semi Canon compliant, pre-s1 but mentions of pre-war Cooper, I love the dynamic 😔👌✨️

|| warnings: hopefully IC Cooper, asshole x asshole dynamic we love to see it, weapons/supply dealer!reader, Canon typical violence, mention of blood/reader is injured kinda, spoilers? Abt Cooper's backstory, kinda enemies to friends/lovers

He doesn't know why he's here.

No, that's a lie ㅡ he does know why he's here, he just doesn't want to admit it. To himself, or to anyone else, for that matter. That he needs help.

Those fancy little bullets for his gun are hard to come by, few and far between when he can't get them by looting and places like Ma June's enjoy extorting as much as they can for so very little.

There's a difference between business transactions and highway robbery, even now. Which is why he's here ㅡ he'd gotten talk about a place that sold weapons and weapon-related supplies at a fair rate, and necessity had made him swallow his pride to go and find out for himself.

Which is why he's not just turning around and fuckin' leaving.

The building is crammed between two others, as ramshackle as the rest being made of recycled tin and wood that's rotted by time and rain in places, but still suggests a stability that won't crumble if somebody breathes too hard on it.

Cooper's spurs jingle as he walks, lost momentarily to the chime of something over his head when he pushes the door open. He looks up, forehead creasing.

Is that a bell?

Rusted but still in working order, it clatters again when he shuts the door, looking around. It's about as put together as any other kind of shop, an eclectic organization to it ㅡ a couple of rifles, a pistol or two, along with an admittedly impressive assortment of knives ㅡ but it's the shine of something on the floor that makes Cooper stop.

His head cocks as he studies the stain, the still-slick shimmer to it that makes him crouch and drag two gloved fingers against it, studying the residue. Coppery, with a hefty dose of some kind of chem to clean it, but still unmistakable ㅡ blood.

Well damn. He doesn't know what's happened here and he's pretty sure he doesn't care to, much beyond the fact that if the runner of this place is dead, that puts a damper on things. Or maybe not ㅡ if nobody's here, what's to stop him from taking what he wants?

"If you're thinkin' of stealing," comes a call that snaps his head up as it echoes from further back in the building, "I'd advise you not to. Less you wanna meet your maker, then I'd be happy to assist."

It's a flat bravado that both amuses him and piques his interest, and he leans against the counter to rap his knuckles. "Not stealin'," he drawls, "just wonderin' what kind of business model you've got if you make customers wait."

"The kind where patience is still a virtue, that's what." Foosteps, unhurried ㅡ and then Cooper is staring at you as you round the corner. You've got a jumpsuit of some indistinguishable color opened to rest around your hips, dingy tank-top underneath ㅡ and a stimpak in your hand. No doubt for the mess of your other arm, bicep wrapped with gauze that's already seeped into a bloom of bright red.

Well now. Cooper wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but you still manage to surprise him. Enough that he's staring, which makes you scowl.

"I know that look," you challenge, "if you think I'm easy picking, you'll get a new place to breathe from, courtesy of the hole I'll put in your head."

Cooper's head cocks. "Well now sugar," he says, "that's not very nice now, is it? Wasn't even thinkin' of that." He turns, jerks a thumb at the half-assed cleaning of the mess on the floor. "That's your doin', I reckon."

You nod. "Don't get trouble much," you say, "but when I do, I make sure to prove a point." You jam the stimpak into your arm, and he watches the tension melt from your shoulders. "Now, what can I do for you besides point out the exit?"

Well damn, Cooper thinks again. You've got a pretty face, but it's at odds with the attitude coming from that nice little mouth of yours. About as welcoming as a rattlesnake and probably just as quick to anger, from the way you bristle as he eyes you.

"Need supplies," he says, and you snort.

"What a wellspring of information you are. What kind of supplies?" You eye him, brow furrowing. "You're a bounty hunter, aren't you? Get your kind in here all the time." You tap a worn boot against the floor, hands now on your hips. "Hope you got means to pay for shit, because I don't do tab and I sure as fuck don't do charity work."

Cooper isn't sure if he likes you or he hates you. Bit of both, he guesses. The like is tentative and the hate is more solid ground, because he hates just about everybody. Makes it easier to do what needs to be done.

"Well, sweetheart," he leans into the counter, tips his hat, "depends on what you got to show me that's worth buyin'."

You stare, unimpressed by whatever angle he's going for. He's handsome, you'll give him that ㅡ but not much else. He also reminds you of somebody, with that hat of his and the way he talks ㅡ the low, drawn out drawl that you've only seen in those movies you manage to scrounge up here and there for your amusement.

Rolling your eyes, you hold up a finger and shrug your arms back into the jumpsuit, though you don't bother to zip it up. "Gimme a sec."

You don't know why you're doing this. Entertaining the notion that if you show him good enough product, he'll become a regular. You like regulars, but most of what you get seem to run on about six months worth of visits and then vanish.

Probably dead. Such is the way of the world, and it's still enough to get by. But you like new faces.

To his credit, he doesn't flinch when you slap the first pack onto the counter, followed by a second, and then a third.

"This is baseline stuff," you explain. "Your usual grade of bullet. Black powder, the standard kick." You shove the first pack at him, let him inspect the bullets. "Then you've got these."

The second pack shoved over, thin fabric parted so he can eye the neat little row of what would be hollow-point bullets if they didn't end with a tiny, pointed bulb of red glass.

"Explosive rounds." Your expression is unreadable. "They do the job, but they need special packing. Unless you wanna be blown up before the damn things even get loaded into the gun."

Cooper hums, eyes the bullet he holds up, the barely there shift of powder in the glass. He watches as you push the third over. "And these?"

"Same, but they pack even more of a punch. I'd recommend only shooting them at shit you want up in smoke." You shrug. "Or people, deathclaws, whatever the fuck you do out there."

Cooper studies you. "Where did you get this stuff? Thought bullets were hard to come by."

You give him a flat look of annoyance. "I make 'em myself."

Cooper stares, then smirks. Another little tip to his head. "Really now," he says, watches you bristle like a viper, ready to strike. Wonders if those fangs of yours pack a punch, what he'd need to do to get you to spit at him. "How 'bout you show me, darlin'? Wanna make sure what I buy is good quality."

You should tell him to shove it. Tell him to get the absolute fuck out of your shop, take his fuckin' yeehaw personality to someone else in the mood to deal with it ㅡ but you don't.

Instead, you sigh and tug the packages back, moving away from the counter. "Well c'mon then," you prompt, irritated. "Don't have all goddamn day."

The back of your shop is half a home and half a workshop, sprawled mess of equipment rusted with time but otherwise well maintained, smell of grease and hot metal and gunpowder that clings to everything.

You don't have to look back to know he's followed you, the jingle of his spurs as he takes his time, eyes missing nothing. The boxes of empty casings and empty glass bulbs ㅡ and the Mister Handy that's slumped in the corner, sparks spitting from it.

"Poor thing got shot first with that...situation earlier." Your voice is quiet. "Gotta fix 'im if I can."

Kind of funny, you sound sadder about the damn machine than the fact you'd killed someone over it. Then again, they'd been trying to kill you, so...eh. Justified, in your book.

The rest of the room is a haphazard attempt at something like a house ㅡ a couch with blankets on it, a short stack of books gone yellow at the edges, a coffee table ㅡ and sitting on it is a shitty little television, staticy and without color ㅡ but that doesn't matter. What matters to Cooper is that he knows what it's playing.

Your flitting around fades a little as he watches himself on screen ㅡ forever ago, a lifetime ago. Before the bombs, before vault-tec ㅡ when he'd been happy.

He'd loved his life, his family ㅡ and they'd loved him too.

"I've got enough stuff to make another round of flash-baㅡ" You stop, blinking at the way he's staring at the television. "Somethin' wrong? I know this isn't much, but it's my way of living, soㅡ"

"Stop your yappin'," Cooper rasps, and you glare as he shakes himself out of whatever reverie he was lost in. You scowl.

"Look, I know this doesn't seem like much of anything, but this is my business, and my shop." Your eyes narrow. "So try to be a little fuckin' nicer if you want me to sell you anything."

Whatever patience he'd had left promptly snaps like a bowstring as he snatches your arm, grips it tighter than he should. "Listen, sweetheart," he hisses, "what exactly is stopping me from just takin' what I want and leaving?"

Something whirrs behind him, distracts him just enough for the cool, sharp kiss of metal at his throat.

"Do it," you taunt, expression unreadable, grip tight on the blade you hold to his neck. "You're not the first one to try, and you won't be the last."

And there, Cooper notes, are your fangs, ready to sink into his skin. The two of you stare at each other for a good, long minute while the Mister Handy spits and sputters. And then Cooper huffs something like a laugh. "Glad to see you've got some bite to you, darlin', but I still think I could handle you."

A threat and something a little less hostile all in one, even as you yank your arm out of his grasp. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with a fuckin' manual," you snap back, but there's a playful gleam to your eyes. "You gonna buy anything or just lookin' to be a pain in my ass?"

A crooked grin tugs at Cooper's mouth. "Both."

ㅡ

The truce between the two of you is tentative. An understanding in the barest sense, because neither of you are dumb enough to pass up a lucrative, beneficial deal. He gets his supplies, you get caps. Simple.

You won't go as far as to say you're even friends, up until the point that you greet him on a visit with, "You know, you remind me of somebody."

He eyes you. "Really now. And who would that be, sweetheart? You workin' with more ghouls than just me?"

You snort. "Careful," you tease, "you almost sound jealous." Your tone quiets as you drum your fingers on the counter. "Nah, you remind me of that one actor, Cooper Howard."

Cooper stills. Watches you warily, turning a spent bullet casing over and over between gloved fingers.

"He played a cowboy," you say, nodding to yourself. "Talked like you do, too. Good movies, at least the ones I've gotten my hands on." You eye him, playful light to your eyes. "Wouldn't happen to be a fan of him too, would you?"

Cooper debates. He's not sure if you've put the pieces together and if you have, you're polite enough not to say it. He appreciates that, makes that fleeting temptation of putting a bullet in your head all the more temporary. He likes you. Be a shame if he had to cut ties.

"No," he answers. "I can safely say he and I are nothin' alike." Not anymore. He lets himself lean over the counter, too close to your face. Intimidation, maybe, or perhaps just because he likes being able to look at you like this. "Got anythin' else to tell me?"

Your eyes flick over his face, down to his lips as you lean a little closer, the suggestion of your mouth just shy of his. "Yeah," you murmur, quiet. "Next time you come by, work on your fuckin' manners."

[yelenasfloppyhand]

Spencer Reid × gn!reader.

Warnings: mentions of death, not explicitly mentioned gunshot wounds, grief and blood.

Summary: when what should be an easy case ends up going horribly wrong.

"You're okay honey, look at me. Good that's so good baby, keep looking at me" Spencer sounded frantic as he begged you to keep looking at him. You weren't entirely sure what had happened. One minute you had the unsub in your sights, your gun raised towards him. And the next you found yourself on the dirty floor of the old warehouse where the team had located the unsub.

"Spence... my stomach hurts" you whine, clearly you're disoriented, maybe it was the pain, or possibly the blood loss. You'd looked down only to see Spencer's shaking hands pressed to your abdomen, blood now coating his normally clean hands.

"I know honey I know, you're gonna be okay" his eyes, oh his gorgeous eyes that were a comforting warm brown with golden specks smothering the space around his irises, they were staring back at you with... grief? Fear perhaps?

"I don't wanna die..." it was pathetic how weak you sounded, and if you weren't currently bleeding out in your husbands arms you would've reprimanded yourself for letting your mask slip, for allowing your fear to cover your tough facade. But you truly hadn't been this scared before, maybe that was a lie... maybe you were more scared when you first laid eyes on your newborn daughter, the daughter that you and Spencer loved to death. Death is a funny concept, or at least that's how you see it, you can recall Spencer telling you that he had seen a bright light whilst in deaths grasp. But you couldn't help but be scared, for you had no idea what laid beyond the life you're living, was it dark? was it inviting? Perhaps it is like a hug... or possibly comparable to bring thrown in a frozen lake?

"D- don't say that. You're gonna be okay, and we're gonna go home to our baby girl. And you're gonna give her kisses like you always do, you're going to read her her favourite story. I promise." You couldn't fault him, his promise was inviting, it was almost believable. But you'd been studying human behaviour for years and you knew when someone wasn't sure of their own words. You could see the salty tears that threatened to roll down your husbands cheeks like a wave rolling calmly across the undisturbed ocean surface.

You could didn't have the heart to tell your poor husband that you weren't leaving this warehouse alive. The hope in his eyes was enough to diminish any thought of arguing against his prior statement.

Your toes and fingers were begining to tingle, maybe it was death pulling you're life from you on string at a time... perhaps it was the blood loss making you feel weightless, whatever it was you weren't entirely sure if you welcomed it or not.

"I- I don't wanna die... but- I think im ready" you whisper, at this point your skin is deathly pale and you can feel your chest struggle to move as you attempt to fill your lungs what ever air you can aquire. You felt heavy, but yet somehow also weightless, like you were sinking into a cloud, clouds are mostly condensation so surely you could be heavy enough to sink through one whilst also being light enough to have remained on the cloud. Well now you just weren't making any sense, how could you lay on a cloud, despite it being an obvious metaphor you felt troubled by the way your mind was traveling.

"I know... baby I know." Spencer sniffles, oh... he knew? Perhaps it was the calmness in your expression, maybe it was the smoothness of your voice. You felt guilty, you had a wonderful husband and a 3 year old daughter that you would die for. You didn't want to leave your husband widowed at 31 and you didn't want to leave your daughter wondering when you were coming home, you didn't want her to think that youd abandoned her. But you knew that there was no way you could survive this. You could feel it, you could feel yourself... dying.

"I'm sorry" your voice shook with regret and guilt as you stared into your husbands glassy eyes, you allowed your eyes to wander over his face almost as if they were frolicking through a beautiful garden, you adored his beautiful nose, and the few freckles that graced his smooth shining skin, the small amount of stubble peaking through as he had been to preoccupied getting your daughter dressed for preschool this morning to shave, you lastly glanced at his full pink lips that were pulled into an odd mix between a frown and a soft smile.

"It's okay sweetheart. You can go." It felt odd him telling you that you had his permission to go. Go where? You weren't entirely sure yourself, but once the words had left his beautiful lips you could physically feel yourself relax slightly.

You'd always found the thought of kissing someone that was dying odd, as a child it almost felt like necrophilia when a character would kiss their dying lover in a movie. Perhaps you'd mellowed with age, or perhaps you couldn't fathom the idea of dying without kissing the love of your life once more.

Spencer gently cupped your cheek not caring for the blood that was smeared against your pale cheek, he gently slotted his lips against yours. After 10 years they still fit perfectly, it was almost like finding the missing piece of your puzzle that you've searched years for.

And so for one last time your normally vivacious bright eyes turned dull, staring into nothingness as your body gave into the blood loss. Spencer couldn't bring himself to look into your dead eyes so instead with a shuddering breath he gently closed your eyes but not before pressing a goodbye kiss to your forehead.

Note: thank you for reading, please don't hesitate to correct any grammar mistakes. Also just a reminder my requests are open so feel free to request a story.

[tomssexdoll]

Rescue me

"Are you fucking crazy? Do you know how dangerous that is? Especially for the both of us, I can't risk that, no way."

"Please Tom...for me, I need this."

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom's gang leader Jack kidnapped Y/N, he suspected that she was a spy, all because she was in the wrong part of town and checking Tom out while on the phone. Tom is forced to guard her and she forms some kind of bond with Tom while she's down there, eventually leading to her convincing him to help her escape.

A/N: SORRY FOR THE BLURRY IMAGE :(

WARNINGS: dom!tom, reader!sub, p in v (doggy), eating out, fingering, squirting, mentions of violence, knives, inflicting wounds on someone, kidnapping, guns, murder, blood, etc.

"Get the fuck off me!" I screamed, kicking and squirming in the grips of the 2 men dragging me into a basement, a dark, cold, dusty room filled with cobwebs and concrete.

I was a hostage, kidnapped by Toms gang, they suspected me of being a spy despite me begging and screaming that I wasn't, I was chained up in their basement, beaten and weak, bruises covering my whole body, Tom was the gang leaders handman, his assistant in his crimes, I sobbed weakly as Tom was forced to keep guard of me.

"You fucking assholes....I'm not a spy!" I kept screaming, but they just ignored my pleas and chained me up to the wall, my hands and legs enclosed with thick, metal handcuffs, connecting to a long row or metal chains.

"Fuck you!" I screamed in one of their faces, one of them finally snapping, "shut the fuck up! If you keep making a fuss like this we'll gag you!" he yelled back, his spit flying in my face.

I rolled my eyes and slumped over, "behave.." one of them growled, walking up the stairs, nodding to Tom. Tom just stood there, his arms behind his back as he kept watch over me, making sure I didn't do anything stupid, not like I could anyway.

They didn't want to kill me yet, wanting to torture answers out of me first. That's the thing though, I was never actually a spy, I don't know why or how they came to the conclusion that I was. I guess I was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I was staring at Tom and on the phone speaking to someone, maybe that's why. I was only checking him out. As what felt like hours went by I grew increasingly bored, groaning and standing up, walking around the room where the chains would allow me.

I was happy the chains were quite long, giving me a bit of freedom. "What're you doing little lady?" Tom smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing? Do you just expect me to sit there and do fuck all? No..I'm making it worth my time down here," I sighed, growing frustrated with him already.

"Might as well do something before I die, I'm sure it won't be long," I rolled my eyes, he raised his eyebrow at my outburst, his piercing gaze studying me carefully as he adjusted his jacket. "You seem to have quite the mouth on you, considering your current situation, I could kill you at any given moment," he chuckled darkly.

"Kill me? Yeah ok buddy, your leader would shoot you dead too," his face turned serious as he realized I was right, clearing his throat and just going back to being silent.

As the leader came back in, 2 men followed behind him, dark grins on their faces, excited for what was about to come. They both had 2 chairs in their hands, one for me and one for the leader.

"Okay, here have a seat," he sighed, sitting across from me, "my name is Jake, I obviously run this whole gang and I've pulled you in here because I suspect you're a spy," I scoffed, "a spy? why the fuck do you think I'm a spy, all because I was looking at one of your men for a little too long?"

"Oh so you know why we pulled you in here? Interesting..that's not something a regular person would say," he smirked, leaning closer. "I know it looks bad but I swear I'm not, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, please believe me," I grunted, growing frustrated with Jake's refusal to believe me.

"I think I may need to use more, violent tactics to get the proper answers out of you, don't I Tom?" he smirked, turning to Tom with evil eyes.

Toms gaze flickered between me and Jake as the interrogation continued, his expression a mask of cool indifference. However, his clenched fists and the way his muscles tense beneath his clothes suggest a barely contained anger, one not for me, but for the leader...

"Yes sir..." he mumbled, Jake took out a switchblade, flicking it open and dragging the blade against my skin, the cold metal sending shivers down my spine. "Please...I swear I'm not a fucking spy, I don't know how I'll get you to believe me but I'm not lying, why would I lie?" I whined, feeling the pressure of the blade pressing against my skin.

Toms eyes narrowed at the sight and he takes a step forward, his hand instinctively reaching towards his own waistband, forgetting for a moment the danger he could cause. He stopped himself, knowing that any sudden movement could mean disaster for me and him.

"Now, you're going to admit to me that you're a spy, or, you're going to suffer the consequences, ok?" Jake said through gritted teeth, pressing the blade down further, slicing my skin, beads of blood drawing from the wound, "ok that's enough! I think we should come back, we have a lot of work to do boss.." Tom spoke up, placing his hand on Jake's shoulder, his grip firm and tight.

"Alright then, you heard the man, be lucky he just saved you," he turned to me, a scowl on his face. When the leader finally rose from his chair, Tom stepped forward, assuring Jake he'd make sure I was in line. As they left Tom let out a big sigh, "fuck..that was intense, are you okay?" he bent down, stooping to my level and inspecting the bleeding wound.

"I'm fine..why do you care anyways?" I huffed, crossing my arms, the sound of the chains clinking together ringing in my ears. "Because I just do, you're lucky he stopped when he did, usually he doesn't take orders from me like that," he chuckled softly, grabbing a tissue out of his pocket and dabbing the blood off.

"I guess so, I don't even want to know what he would've done if you didn't stop him in time.." I sighed, watching as the blood slowly stopped spilling from my wound.

"I think it's cause you're a woman, usually with men he has no problem slitting their throats but with women, it's like he wants it to be slow and painful, something to do with his childhood I'm guessing," he shrugged, looking up at me.

"Jeez..." I grunted, "you have a lot of fight in you, I'll give you that," he slowly stood up, towering over me, his muscular frame intimidating yet oddly comforting. "How so?" I giggled softly, "well, usually they admit to being a spy because they'd rather die than be tortured, almost no one get's out alive with him, he doesn't play fair games" his gaze soft, nothing like it was before.

After 40 minutes of just sitting in silence, every minute excruciating, thoughts racing in my mind. How long would it be until he came back? Would my punishment be worse because of Tom? My anxiety grew increasingly high and I knew Tom could tell, giving me occasional worried glances.

Finally, he spoke up. "Is something bothering you? As stupid as the question is, you seem...unnerved.." he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "I want to escape, I don't want to keep waiting for him to come back, I want you to help me leave and I never want to see this place ever again," I sighed, looking directly into his eyes, giving him the impression that I was dead serious.

"But...what...are you fucking crazy? Do you know how dangerous that is? Especially for the both of us, I can't risk that, no way," he shook his head, crossing his arms and looking away, trying to avoid the conversation completely.

"Please Tom...for me, I need this," I said gently, trying to put him in a trance. Hoping a soft, calm voice would coax him into giving in.

Toms expression softened as he saw the desperation in my eyes. Without a word, he leaned down and wrapped an arm around my waist, lifting me up off the chair. He quickly fiddled with the keys to the handcuffs and unlocks all of them, freeing me of the constraints.

"There we go princess, cmon let's leave..." he mumbled, taking my hand into his. He slowly crept up the stairs, looking out for any signs of his leader or even gang members.

The bad thing about the gang members was their extreme loyalty, they already hated Tom for being able to secure such a high position and if they saw even a glimpse of what he was attempting to do, they'd immediately go to Jack, hoping they'd be replaced for Toms position.

The house we were in was eerie, full of black decor and expensive red carpets. Every step we took echoed around the room, the noise bouncing off the walls. He quickly lead me to the back entrance, somewhere where they'd come back after a big heist, a place no one could see them entering from.

We slipped out quietly, shutting the door and making a run for it, not wanting to waste any time. We were fully aware of how stupid, dangerous and risky this was but we just didn't seem to care, if we were going to die who cares, I was going to anyways and he was eventually, being in this line of work never resulted in anything good.

I ran off with him into the night, his hand in mine as I searched for a place to hide in. As I kept running I spotted a random abandoned building, deciding it was discreet enough for now.

Tom followed me, his eyes scanning the area for any potential dangers. Once inside the building, he found a relatively safe spot and sets up a makeshift bed for the two of us. He took off his jacket and laid it down on the ground, gesturing for me to sit.

"You're going to get in so much trouble Tom..." I sighed, slowly sitting next to him, resting my head on his arm. "You should've just stayed there and told them I overpowered you.." I looked up at him, "overpowered me? Like they'd believe that," he chuckled, softly shaking his head.

"Whattt..I could've had superpowers or something" I rolled my eyes playfully, a small smirk forming on my face. "Mmh, right, superpowers," he grinned, slowly laying down. I joined him shortly after, his arms snaked around my waist and pulled me into him, holding me like he didn't ever want to let me go.

One hand let go of my waist, slowly riding up to my head, he gently stroked my hair, his touch soothing. His voice was low and calm, a stark contrast to the chaos of the night, "I don't care about the trouble I'll face," he said, his lips brushing against my forehead.

"It's worth it if it means I get to hold you all night like this.." he whispered, I smiled, feeling a blush creep up my neck. I leaned forward and caught his lips in a gentle, steady kiss.

"Should we go to sleep? It's so late.." I giggled softly, my eyes starting to droop. He nodded, wrapping his arms around me tighter, his body pressed against mine in a protective stance. "Sleep..." he murmured, his voice filled with a tenderness that belies his tough exterior.

I sighed and fell asleep in his arms, despite the uncomfortable, hard concrete beneath us, it was pretty easy to fall asleep. As the night passed, Tom watched over me, his mind only at ease when I'm in his arms. He brushed a stray stand of hair from my face, leaning in to kiss my forehead.

The next morning I woke up, groaning at the hard concrete against my back, I slowly took his jacket that was wrapped around me off and sat up, my eyes widening as I saw Jake and his 2 men beside him. I shook Tom awake roughly, "Tom...wake up.." I said gently, my voice filled with panic.

"What...hu-" he cut himself off, his face turning serious as he saw his leader standing right in front of him, a big, evil grin plastered on his face. "I see, you two are finally up, great!" he chuckled darkly. Toms instincts instantly kicked in, sitting up and pulling me protectively behind him as he stood up to face the gang, "what the fuck do you want.." he glared at them.

"Such harsh words from someone I trusted so much, how unfortunate you turned on me over a...woman.." he said in disgust, as if I was the most ugliest create in the world.

"Anyways, we came to tell you that we've come to a decision. If you don't come back to us, we have no choice but to kill her, she has seen way too much and we don't need the risk of being exposed, like last time..." he gritted his teeth, I could tell he enjoyed my fear, a proud grin on his face with every word he spoke.

"But I betrayed you, wouldn't you have to kill me too?" Tom said, his voice laced with confusion. "Oh you think I'd make it easy for you? Let you guys reunite in heaven? No buddy, you'll have to suffer until the end of time regretting what you did," he grinned, his 2 men laughing behind him.

His jaw clenched as he listened to the threat, knowing he had to think fast of a way to get me out of here. "So, what will it be Tom?" he said, pointing to his watch, "time is running up, I don't like waiting, you know that."

"You're a fucking monster..." Tom spat out, "Cherish the last moments you have to hold her because she's ours now, I will do anything it takes, even if it means killing you" Jake said, glaring at Tom. He barked orders at his men to get me, Tom tried everything to fight them off but they overpowered him, grabbing me and taking me out the building

I screamed and cried, calling out for Tom as he was held back by the gang members, "Tom! Please!" I sobbed, kicking and screaming, trying to squirm out of their grips but it was no use, they just held onto me tighter.

"Let go of her now!" Tom snarled at the men, roaring in anger as he tried to break free from the others hold. His eyes met mine, the desperation and fear in them clear, "i'll fucking kill him, I swear!" he screamed, flailing around and trying to rip the men off him.

They shoved me in Jake's car, speeding off to their warehouse, I could hear Tom's screaming in the background, my heart cracking as I heard the pain and anger in his voice. As we arrived they grabbed my arms, dragging me inside and tossing me into a cold, dimly lit room.

They bound me to a metal chair with thick ropes, leaving me helpless and vulnerable. "Get away! Let me go!" I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks, "I told you I'm not a fucking spy what do you want from me?!" I sobbed, the veins on my forehead buldging out as I grew more frustrated.

"It's not about that anymore sweetheart, it's the fact that you turned one of MY men against me, one of my most loyal and trusted men. How did you do it, did you fuck him? Seduce him? I bet you did, you disgusting whore.." he spat, his words cold and cruel.

"You think that low of me? It was purely his choice, I did nothing to influence him!" I yelled, squirming in the chair, trying to find a way to free myself of the ropes. "Shut your fucking mouth, I'm sick of her, tape her mouth," he commanded, his eyes never leaving mine.

His men scrambled and grabbed some duct tape, cutting a strip and placing it over my mouth. "That'll fucking teach her to keep her mouth shut, dirty whore," he grumbled, storming off into another room.

I sat there for hours, staring at the wall, kicking my feet, humming songs and reciting math problems in my head, doing anything I could to escape the boredom, a few of his men guarded the outside of the room, making sure if I did somehow free myself they could catch me.

I missed Tom a lot, being without him was like hell, even though we barely knew each other we still had that strong connection, I just wanted to be in his arms.

More hours passed, the sound of footsteps echoed through the empty warehouse, the heavy sound indicating only one set of feet. The sound stops right in front of the room I was in, the door swung open and Jake walked in, stopping right in front of me.

"You're going to pay, taking my fucking best man away from me," he growled lowly, grabbing the same switchblade he used from days ago, flicking the blade open and kneeling in front of me.

He smirked, an evil force behind it, he slowly moved the blade towards my thigh, my legs shaking in fear. Who knows what this sick bastard had in mind, he could do anything he wanted, I was basically an open book.

"He could never love someone as pathetic as you, so useless," he chuckled darkly, trying to hurt me with his words. When he saw they were no use his anger rose, he gripped the switchblades handle tightly and dragged the blade against my skin, cutting deeply.

I screamed in pain, the duct tape muffling it, watching as continued to stab into my leg, cutting deeper this time, the blade biting into me. The sound of flesh parting under the sharp edge echoing through the room, a sadistic pleasure filling his eyes as he sees the blood now trickling down my thigh, dripping onto the concrete floor. "You're so weak, so easy to break.." his voice was a mere whisper, full of dark promises and threats.

I whined and sobbed, unable to beg for his forgiveness. "Stop your crying!" he yelled, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at him, "I said, STOP!" he screamed, his patience wearing thin when I failed to heed to his command. He pulled back his other hand and delivered a stinging slap across my cheek.

He was yelling at me so loudly that we both couldn't hear the sounds of gunshots booming in the background, Toms heavy, angry footsteps echoed through the warehouse as he approached, he bursted through the door, it's hinges giving way under his powerful force.

His eyes widened at the sight of me, blood dripping from the wound on my thigh, a surge of adrenaline and protectiveness flooded through him, "get your filthy fucking hands off of her!" he screamed, seeing the blade in Jake's hand.

Anger blazed in Jake's eyes, like he had completely shifted, he charged at tom with the blade, Tom quickly moved to block his attack, the blade sinking into the wall beside him.

"Bastard!" Jake roared, sliding the blade out of the wall and charging for Tom again, Toms eyes flashed with fury as he saw him attempt to hurt him again. In a fluid motion, he pulled his gun from his waistband and quickly fired, the bullet striking Jake in the chest.

He quickly crumpled to the ground, the knife clattering from his limp hand. I screwed my eyes shut, avoiding the sight of Jake's dying body. Tom quickly rushed to my side, taking his shirt off and wrapping it tightly around my actively bleeding wound, then he moved to the ropes, undoing all the knots and grabbing me, wrapping my legs around his waist as he held me against his chest.

As he walked out of the room, I observed the warehouse, bodies scattered everywhere and pools of blood everywhere, I whined and looked in the other direction, one second longer of looking at the bodies and I would throw up everywhere.

Tom carried me to his car, gently placing me in the passenger seat. He rushed to the drivers side, starting the engine and speeding out of the warehouse, leaving the chaotic scene behind. His mind was racing, trying to figure out what do to next.

Once we were both a safe distance away, he gently set me into his lap, carefully lifting my thigh to examine the wound. He peeled the cloth off, revealing the deep gash. His gaze darkened as he took in the severity of the laceration. With a steady hand, he unlocks the glovebox and pulls out a first aid kit, beginning to clean the wound with antiseptic wipes, his touch surprisingly gentle given the earlier display of violence.

I hissed at the stinging of the wipes, he finished dressing the wound with the bandage, his eyes softening as he took in my trembling form. Carefully, he brushed a strand of hair from my face, "you're safe now, they will never bother us again.." he murmured, starting the engine again and letting me sit in his lap while he drove around, finding some place to stay at.

Eventually we found a hotel, he quickly parked and helped me out, holding my hand and helping me walk inside. He quickly bought a room, carrying me up the stairs and into the room.

He laid me gently on the plush king sized bed, rummaging through the hotels closets and finding some spare t shirts left by the staff (pretend they do that at hotels), "you should change out of those clothes," he smiled gently, towering over me.

I sighed and slowly took my shirt off, observing the dried blood stains and sweat patches, I reached behind myself and clipped my bra off, Toms eyes instantly widening as my tits spilled out, taking in the sight of my bare breasts.

His gaze lingered on my hardened nipples, swallowing hard, trying to keep his composure. "Fuck..." he said, his voice shaky as he stalked closer, he reached out and gently palmed one of my breasts, circling the nipple.

"Tom...what are you doing.." I gasped softly, my mouth slightly agape as I looked up at him, "shhh...just relax baby.." he softly pushed me down onto the bed, climbing on top of me and capturing my lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

I shifted backwards, going further into the bed until my head hit the soft pillows. He crawled up slowly, gently kissing my legs, up to my thighs, "you've been through so much tonight, i'm going to make you feel better..ok?" he murmured, "okay..." I bit my lip, nodding softly and giving him full permission to my body.

"Good girl.." he whispered, his breath was hot against my thighs before he started kissing his way up, reaching my sensitive stomach. His hands eagerly explored my body as he goes teasing and kneading my breasts and stomach.

He finally reached my crotch and slowly unbuttoned my shorts, sliding them down my legs and off my body, throwing them somewhere. He then hooked his fingers around the waistband of my panties, dragging them down with ease, his eyes never leaving mine.

He takes in the sight of me completely bare in front of him, his eyes flashing with hunger as he dove his head down, his tongue flickered out, tracing a wet line from my entrance to my clit, "mmh!" I moaned softly, rolling my eyes back, the sensation of his warm tongue on my pussy addicting.

He kept doing the same motion, again and again, each time his tongue grew firmer and more desperate. His hands gripped my thighs, making sure to not touch my wound, keeping them spread open for him. "Taste so good..so wet f'me.." he groaned, his tongue lapping at my juices, swirling around my swollen clit. "Fuck!" I gasped, bucking my hips up into his face, grinding my cunt against his lips.

He slowly lifted my legs, draping them over his shoulders and driving his face further into my cunt, humming in approval, his tongue delving deeper into my folds as he tasted me. He moaned, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.

"Tomm!" I whined, rolling my eyes back as the pleasure intensified, he smirked against my skin, loving the way I reacted to his every move. He began to lick and suck at me with increased fervour, his nose buried in my folds as he feasts on my arousal.

His fingers dig into my ass, pulling me harder against his face, feasting on me like a starved man, "so fucking good.." he groaned deeply, kissing and circling my clit with his warm tongue.

He slowly reached up, slipping 2 fingers into my messy hole, feeling my slick juices cover them completely, "fuckk.." he grinned, his finger probing deeper, gently moving in and out of my pussy.

"Such a messy pussy...so tight," he chuckled darkly, reattaching his tongue to my clit, sucking and swirling harshly, feeling my walls fluttering around him as he curled his fingers at my g spot, sending me into a pure state of euphoria.

I shoved my head back into the pillows, my back arching as I felt my orgasm near, "gonna cum!" I choked out, barely able to speak from all the pleasure I was receiving, he smirked and kept fucking me roughly with his fingers, feeling my pussy tighten around him.

"That's it..cum for me..let it go like the little slut you are" he growled. As my orgasm built to a crescendo, he increased the intensity of his ministrations once again. He pistoned his fingers deeper, repeatedly curling them to hit that perfect spot over and over again until my vision started to blur.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" I yelped, my release dangerously close, "yessss!" I moaned loudly, my legs shaking as I basically closed my thighs in on his head, my pussy quivering as I reached my climax, my juices spilling all over his tongue and fingers.

"Ohhh yes..such a good girl for me," he mumbled, licking and slurping up everything I gave him, not wasting a single drop. Before even letting me process what just happened he sat me up, crawling behind me and gently pulling me against him so that my back was resting on his chest.

"That's it...just let me take care of you, let me make you forget about the pain, ok princess?" he whispered gently in my ear, his hot breath fanning against my neck, "o-okay..." I whimpered softly, he hoisted my legs to up to my chest, I felt his fingers slowly rub on my body, finding every crevise and curve, tending to it.

"So beautiful, so perfect for me.." he smirked, leaning down and gently kissing my neck, then my shoulders, leaving a trace of his scent wherever he went.

"Tom...please.." I gasped, feeling his fingers slide teasingly down my stomach, down to my burning heat. "Please what? Words baby..use your words..tell me what you need" he said, his voice gentle yet assertive.

His fingers gently brushed against my slick folds, teasing the entrance to my pussy, "need..your fingers.." I said, my lip gently quivering as I grew more impatient, "okay, okay..." he chuckled at the desperation laced in my voice.

I felt his hard cock pressed against my ass, his fingers slowly sliding into me again, his other hand coming up to my exposed breast, fingers tweaking and rolling my nipples as he nuzzled into my neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along my jaw.

"Take it baby...take it all..." he murmured in my ear, sliding his fingers in and out of me with ease. He thrusted his fingers deeper, my inner walls clenching around him as he scissored them inside me, searching for that spot that will make me scream his name.

He pinched my nipples, tugging on them gently as he perked his thumb up to rub my clit, rubbing slow and gentle circles around the swollen bud. I whined, receiving pleasure from 3 different spots on my body overwhelming me, my chest heaving up and down.

"Tom..can't handle it...mmh.." I whimpered, pushing my body into his, trying to close my legs. "Shhh, you can take it baby, just relax," he gentle nibbled on my earlobes, swirling his fingers over my sensitive nipples.

"So good...gonna cum again.." I rolled my eyes back, resting my head on his shoulder, feeling his lips come in contact with my neck again, the angle giving him better access. He gently bit and sucked on my neck, leaving marks everywhere, "my perfect girl...so obedient.." he whispered, his words lingering in my head.

"Doing so well baby..taking my fingers like the little whore you are.." he said, his voice filled with lust and desire. He continued to work his magic, fingers curling inside me as he searched for my sweet spot, his thumb rubbed faster over my clit, the pleasure building to a fever pitch.

"Tom! Mmmh!" I moaned loudly, my mouth wide open as I came all over his fingers, even after my orgasm he didn't stop, he just continued his brutal pace, shoving his fingers inside me.

"Fuck! Oh my god!" I yelped, his fingers prolonging the aftershocks of my orgasm until I'm a writhing mess in his arms. "Don't stop!" I whined, pushing my ass into him as I felt his fingers curl at my g spot again.

His fingers move with reckless abandon, slamming in and out of my tight, wet heat. "You want it harder baby?" he growled lowly in my ear, wrapping his arm around my stomach and reeling me in closer.

"Yes, mmh yes!" I moaned loudly, his fingers pumped into me with more force at my demand, obliging my plea. His pistons them in and out at a merciless pace, the wet wounds of my pussy filling the room.

His thumb rubbed insistently over my clit, ensuring that I was drowning in sensation. He smirked as he sensed my second climax approaching. He added a third finger, stretching me further and intensifying the pleasure, "oh my god!" I yelled out, screwing my eyes shut and focusing on the pleasure.

His fingers drove in deep, grinding against my g spot as he curled them, "fuck, you're so good.." he said, determined to bring me over the edge once more. His thumb pressed hard against my clit, the stimulation overwhelming as he works me towards another explosive orgasm.

He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear, "you gonna cum, yeah? Is my good girl gonna cum all over these fingers?" I nodded lazily, panting as I chased my orgasm, feeling my pussy throb.

"Good...very good.." he chuckled softly, knowing he's making me lose control. His fingers continued their relentless assault, driving me to the brink of madness with pleasure. As my pussy spasms around his digits, he increased the pressure on my clit, pushing me over the edge into a shattering orgasm.

"Fuck!" I screamed, my legs trembling as my orgasm crashed down, a small spurt of clear liquid spilling out of my cunt, his eyes widened at this, not knowing I had the ability to squirt.

"Oh fuck.." he muttered, I felt his cock throb on my ass, begging for attention. "I need you, now, I can't wait any longer.." he mumbled, scrambling around and flipping me over onto my stomach, getting behind me and pulling me against his crotch, his hard cock pressing into my bare pussy.

I heard him start to take off his pants, his hands shaking in anticipation, he shoved them off along with his boxers, his thick, veiny cock springing out, already leaky with pre.

His hands gripped my hips tightly as he lined his tip with my dripping wet pussy. With a sharp thrust, he buried himself inside me, I yelped and hissed at the pain, a low growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest, "so tight.." he said, pulling back slightly before slamming into me again, setting a brutal pace.

The bed creaked beneath me as he thrusted harder, driving his cock deep into my pulsing pussy with each stroke. His balls slapped against my clit, the lewd sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room.

I moaned loudly, feeling his cock hit my g spot rapidly, "ohhh yes!" sending waves of pleasure throughout my body, my tits bouncing with every hard thrust. His breathing became ragged as he continues his relentless attack on my pussy, "you like that, hm? You like my big cock slamming into your tight pussy, hitting all the right spots?" he growled, leaning down to whisper in my ear, his chest pressed against my back.

As I didn't answer him, my brain fogged with too much pleasure, he dug his fingers through my hair and gripped it tightly, pulling my hair back, "answer me, now.." he commanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Y-yes! I love it!" I whined, the pain adding even more pleasure, his grip on my hair tightened as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear, "that's what I like to hear, you dirty little slut. You love getting fucked hard don't you? Love feeling every inch of my cock stretching you open," he spat out, his words laced with lust and desire.

"Yes! Yes, fuck!" I moaned loudly. His thrusting became more erratic, his grip on my hair tightening even more as he pulls back, causing me to arch my back in pleasure. He lets go of my hair only to slap my ass hard, leaving a red handprint on my skin, "ow!" I yelped, shocked at the sudden pain.

He chuckled, pleased with the reaction as he watched me wince at the sting. His cock twitches inside me, the slap of his hand against my ass echoing through the room. "You like a little pain with your pleasure, don't you?" he added, a cheeky grin on his face.

I giggled, nodding softly, "and what if I do?" he chuckled again, finding my playfulness amusing as he continued to pound into me with unrelenting force.

I felt a knot form in my stomach, signalling my impending orgasm. He noticed my sudden change in breath, he smirked triumphantly and thrusts harder into me. He takes a hold of my hips, pulling them back against him as he moved deeper inside me, "cmon, cum for me, I want to feel that tight cunt tighten around my fucking cock," he said, his voice low and seductive, only driving me further to my orgasm.

With a few more brutal thrusts my orgasm washed over me, his cock exploding as I tightened around his cock, my juices spilling all over his throbbing member, he made sure to fuck the cum deep into me, not wanting to risk spillage on the sheets.

"Jesus christ.." he murmured, collapsing beside me and swiftly pulling me with him, cradling my shaking frame against his chest, whispering soothing words into my ear to help me calm down from my series of earth shattering orgasms.

After a few minutes I finally spoke up, "I thought you were going to take care of me, didn't think slapping and hair pulling would be apart of that," I giggled, rolling my eyes playfully as I reached up to caress his cheek, he chuckled and kissed the tip of my nose, "sorry baby, I got carried away, your pussy was just too good," he said, sending shivers down my spine.

"I'm glad I get to have you in my arms like this, just relaxed, not afraid of being interrupted," he smiled softly, reaching up and running his hands through my hair gently, caressing my aching scalp.

"Me too..." I whispered, pressing my forehead against his, savouring the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around me, eventually we both drifted off to sleep in each others arms, not a worry or care about anyone or anything except for each other.

tags: @ballhair @kaulitzsbabyy @kaulitzswhxre

tags: @tomsonlyslut @pa1n-0f-l0ve @bills-wife-1

tags: @bkaulitzlover @ella1289 @billsdolliest