#I’m loosing my mind over the fact they added in guns

[peepee-magee]

Sins Of The Flesh Spoiler Below

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Lethal Weapon (Donner, 1987)

I hadn’t seen this since I borrowed it on VHS from the public library back in high school, and as I’d watched all the sequels last year when Netflix added them (but neglected to include the original), I’d been itching for a rewatch for quite some time. When the Revue Cinema held a screening as part of a Shane Black Christmas themed series, I jumped on the opportunity. Given the medium I last watched this on, I was certainly taken aback by how good this looked. The Christmas-light-assisted neon colour scheme really pops on the big screen. But there’s also a great sense of visual movement, the fluidity of the camera as it floats and swerves accentuating the energy level of the proceedings. Like many buddy cop movies since, this punctuates the proceedings with comedic episodes and banter, but unlike in a lot of those (including the sequels to this one), there’s a musicality here, a real verve as all the elements come together like a gracefully choreographed dance. The stuff here would eventually turn into cliches, but they feel very alive here.

A good amount of credit goes to Mel Gibson, who plays Riggs as a loose cannon wildman like you get in a lot of these movies, but gives him a genuine sense of instability. Not a lot of action movies offer as much emotional rawness as the scene where he tearfully sticks a gun in his mouth, which goes a long way of convincing you he’s really on the edge. Gibson’s performance here is about as good as it gets when it comes to action movie protagonists, and not to discount his genuine talent and charisma or make light of his offscreen actions, but his casting probably plays even better in hindsight. There’s something damaged, unreformed about Riggs that the darkness in Gibson’s personal life plays interestingly against.

There’s something liberating about the way Riggs is able to reject the rules of engagement in any given scene, the way he uses humour to seize the upper hand in a drug bust, or saves a jumper by acting more suicidally. Or when he ambushes Gary Busey’s Mr. Joshua by sending a police car careening into the house, and emerges from the side of the frame with his gun, almost as if he’s upending the form of the film itself.

And regarding Busey, I associate him with some level of volatility, so it’s interesting to see him play pathologically against type. (His one outburst is blowing away a TV during the climax.) His portrayal of Mr. Joshua as all training and killer instinct brought to mind Jim Zubiena’s role as the assassin in the “Calderone’s Return” episode of Miami Vice, although Busey has more innate charisma to play with than Zubiena. (This gives me strong Miami Vice vibes, says a guy who’s watched nothing but Miami Vice. Apologies, I’ve spent the second half of this year obsessed with this show, so anytime I watch anything adjacent, whether by genre or common cast members, I’m going to bring it up. Don’t worry, I’ve started the last season recently and should be done with the show in a few weeks, so our long national nightmare will soon be over.) I do find it interesting that Riggs and Mr. Joshua share a special forces background, and the fact that it places the two of them on a spectrum, and the more humane one is also the more damaged. This is less politically minded than the second movie, but there’s a hint of critique here about the way America trains men to kill and discards them when they’re no longer useful.

I didn’t realize until just now that Danny Glover was only forty when he made this, but is playing fifty and looks even older. There’s a bit of Max Von Sydow syndrome going on here, but I have to credit Glover’s performance, and particularly his physicality in suggesting a credible level of wear and tear. My screening wasn’t packed by any means, but “I’m too old for this shit” got a lot of laughs.

And I think all that musicality and verve obviously extend to the violence, which is less interested in carefully executed plans than in improvisation and reorienting the rules of engagement. The helicopter sniper surprise. The desert ambush. The chase where Riggs hurtles through crowded traffic to use his knowledge of street level geography against Mr. Joshua. Even the final showdown, which is not the most tightly directed scene on a technical level, but plays as an accumulation of movement. Richard Donner’s direction plays like a predecessor to the intensified continuity that would take over the action genre in the 2000s, less concerned with visual clarity (although there is enough of that here) than in motion and momentum, and in spontaneity and possibility. This might be a canonized classic, but it’s one where it feels like anything could happen.

Anyway, I think Roger Ebert put it best in his review: “In a sense, a movie like "Lethal Weapon" isn't about violence at all. It's about movement and timing, the choreography of bodies and weapons in time and space. In lesser movies, people stand there and shoot at each other and we're bored. In a movie with the energy of this one, we're exhilarated by the sheer freedom of movement; the violence becomes surrealistic and less important than the movie's underlying energy level.”

[musings-of-a-rose]

Meet the Millers - Chapter 7

Pairing: Joel Miller x Benny Miller x Will Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3300+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Bear in mind the pairing of this fic along with the fact it’s set in a post-apocalyptic setting, so there will be themes and elements fitting the setting. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I hit 200 followers and wanted to give y’all a little something so I did a poll and let you pick what one shot I write next. This is what y’all picked! I hope I can deliver. I started this out as a one shot and it MAJORLY got away from me, so now it’s a mini series. Thank you so much for following me and reading my ramblings! Also a shoutout to @astoryisaloveaffair for helping me figure out how things work and being an amazing sounding board, @icanbeyourjedi for helping me to settle on a filter for this moodboard, and @theewokingdead for being delightfully appalled at how many words this one shot has turned into and cheering me on with memes and gifs.

This is set loosely in The Last of Us universe. I’ve only played a bit of the game and watched others play (and the show isn’t out yet), so please forgive any inaccuracies. Also it’s a post-apocalyptic world so I’m taking a bunch of liberties here. Because fan fiction.

Ages at the time of this story (so you don’t have to do math):

Reader: 28

Benny: 35

Will: 38

Joel: 50

*Reader is ethnicity inclusive despite stock photo bias

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Meet the Miller Masterlist

Main Masterlist

<<Chapter 6

It’s then you hear the sound of an engine, unmistakable in its rarity since the infection, causing your blood to run cold.

Realizing you won’t have time to make it to Joel, you flatten yourself into the ditch, your ears straining for any sound that wasn’t there before. Judging by where the car stops, they’ve found something worth looking at. You hope Joel was able to hide before they pulled up, but you’re unsure of where he was exactly. Vehicle doors slam and you hear a few loud expletives before their voices are lost to distance and wind. You wait one more minute before daring to lift your head to peek over the edge of the ditch. There’s no one there. You wait again, hating that you have to check before moving to help Joel. No movements, which tells you they didn’t bother to check around. Which means they didn’t spot Joel and he’s hiding or they found him and he said he was alone, which gave you an advantage.

Hoping that you were right about them not bothering to check, you crawl out of the ditch and tighten your backpack straps, keeping your bow on one shoulder so you can quickly slide it down into position. Keeping low to the ground, you slink across the remainder of the field and flatten your back against the backside of the first building you come to, pausing to listen. You can hear muffled voices moving into the street a few blocks down from the front of the building you were hiding against.

“...no need for the guns. Just take my bag and go.” It was Joel’s voice, moving into clarity as he was forced onto the sidewalk.

“Something tells me you’ve got more to offer,” a male voice answers him.

You hear nothing from Joel until the sound of a fist on flesh sounds and you hear Joel grunt, anger rising up and threatening to bubble out. Glancing around, you see a ladder mounted to the side of the building you’re against. The building isn’t tall, just one story, but the ladder has roof access for sure. Glancing around once more to make sure you’re alone, you walk several feet away from the building - you’re going to have to run and jump to reach the bottom rung and hope that it’s quiet.

Huffing out a few breaths, you bounce in place, clenching and unclenching your fists before you take off, running full on at the wall as quietly as you can, reaching it and using your momentum to carry you a couple steps up the wall, reaching out and just wrapping your fingers around the bottom rung. It doesn’t move and only shudders a little, its sound muffled by the wild vines that have started to take it over. Putting your feet against the wall, you use them to try and boost yourself up while you pull, just managing to get yourself up a little further on the ladder. You finally managed to climb up and onto the roof, pausing to catch your breath for a moment. Tiptoes on cement, you make it to the edge of the building, crouching low to look over the side.

Joel is on the ground on the sidewalk nearly directly beneath you, blood leaking from his face and dripping onto his shirt. 4 men surround him on all sides, one standing a little closer than the rest, shaking his fist from where he had let loose on Joel again. None of the men make a move or acknowledge the presence of other people inside the buildings, which means you had to get through hopefully only 4 men to save Joel.

You crouch back down away from the edge and slide your bow down your arm, reaching behind you to pull out 4 arrows, each adorned with broad tips that you used for hunting. You notch one and and take a deep breath, knowing you’ll have to move fast. In one swift motion, you lean up on your knees, aiming down at 2 of the men on the side that just happened to line up with each other. You exhale and release, your arrow sprouting out of the first man’s neck to slice into the others. The men grab their necks but crumble, sputtering and gurgling on the ground as they bleed out, the red liquid pouring from their wounds.

Before they hit the ground, you’ve released your next arrow into the third man, your arrow sliding through his neck as well, falling to the ground to join his friends, twitching as the life bleeds from him.

The man in front of Joel lunges for him, wrapping his arm around Joel’s neck and pointing a gun to Joel’s head. Joel is having a hard time standing, his boots slipping on the ground as the man frantically turns from side to side, unable to see where the arrows came from. You’re thankful that he hasn’t actually looked at the arrows, fear and panic robbing him of his ability to think clearly, or he’d easily be able to tell from which direction they came.

“Who the fuck is out there?” the man screams into the street.

You had crouched back down on the roof. There’s no way you’ll be able to get a clear shot with the way the man is frantically moving. You could risk it, but that also puts Joel at risk of having his head blown off - and you’re not going to let that happen.

“I thought you said you were alone, fuck head?” you hear a grunt and realize that the man must have pushed the barrel into the side of Joel’s head. Oh hell no.

You take off your back pack and set it down, putting your bow next to it. You make sure your knife is securely tucked in your boot before you take one more cautious look over the side, the man not even looking in your direction. They’re standing directly below you and you see the man turning Joel back and forth, attempting to scan the buildings as the barrel digs further into Joel’s temple.

Silent, you stand up straight and launch yourself over the side of the building, landing directly on top of the two men. Grunts and scuffles fill your ears as they are forced to separate, the gun flying from the man’s hand as he hits the ground. You roll to the side but your legs seize, momentarily shocked by the impact. The man takes advantage and lunges towards you, knocking you on your back and you feel the wind fly out of you with a huff. He pins you to the ground, legs on either side of your hips as you struggle trying to free yourself. His hands grip your neck and squeeze, anger firing in his eyes.

“I’ll kill you for them! You stupid bitch!” he squeezes harder and your struggle weakens, black starting to come in at the edges of your vision as you attempt to breathe, your hands desperately trying to remove his hands from you.

Suddenly the man is gone, his fingers leaving your throat as you take a giant gasp of air, breathing heavily as the black starts to recede from your vision. Coughing, you turn your head to the side and see Joel standing over the man, sliding his knife into the man’s throat, watching him spit and sputter as he dies. Joel is breathing heavy as he stares at the man, feeling his neck for a pulse that was no longer there. He moves to the other 3 men and checks for pulses there too. Finding none, he quickly returns to where you still lay on the pavement, gasping and coughing for air. His hands quickly pat your body to check for other injuries. Finding no apparent major ones, his eyes move to your throat and the bruises lightly sprouting up there in the shape of hands.

“Ssshh, angel. You’re ok. You’re alive. Just, breathe.” He brings your hand up to his chest and places his on yours, letting you feel him breathe and try to match it with your own. After a few more minutes of coughing and sputtering breaths, you manage to level it out, watching some of the worry leave Joel’s face.

“Angel?” you croak out, coughing once more after. Joel moves for his bag that had been tossed aside and grabs his canteen, helping you to sit up as he presses the opening to your lips. You take a couple sips and cough again, Joel rubbing your back as you do.

“You came down from the sky to save my life. Angel.”

You smile despite your pain. “Cheesy…pickup…line.”

Joel chuckles, knowing that if you’re cracking jokes, you’ll be ok. “Yeah I suppose it is.”

You sit there a few more minutes, taking sips of water and breathing.

“Your bag on the roof?” Joel asks. You nod. “Ok, I’ll head on up and get it. Don’t argue. You sit here and get yourself together, angel.”

You’d fight him on this, but you know you need to rest a bit more. Joel leaves you to go get your things and your eyes land on the men you both had just killed. You had no regrets, knowing that the men would’ve killed Joel and surely done worse to you if they found you. Still, you don’t like taking life if it wasn’t necessary. 3 more tally marks to add to your list.

Joel comes back from around the building, your backpack and bow on his shoulder. He crouches down by you, scanning your body once more for any injuries.

“Anythin’ else hurt?”

You shake your head and Joel relaxes a bit more. “Think you can walk? We need to leave the area in case there’s more around. In fact…” Joel moves to the men and picks up your arrow, sliding the other one out of the man’s neck. He pats them down and grabs out their knives, cutting around the holes in their necks and placing the blades in their hands. He sees you watching and answers your unasked question.

“This way it looks like they were fighting internally. So no one should be comin’ to look for people who killed them. It ain’t perfect but it’s what it is.”

You give him a thumbs up and try to stand, Joel at your side in an instant to help you.

“You sure you’re ok to walk, angel? It’s a long ways to that rest stop.”

Another thumbs up with a whispered “We have to get these plants back for the kid. I’ll be ok.”

Joel cups your face with one of his hands. “Alrigh’. But if you need to rest, tell me. Don’t be a martyr.”

You smile at him as you both turn to walk out of the town, leaving the bodies of the dead men where they lay.

—----

Coming up on the restaurant, Joel motions for you to hide behind the corner as he goes into the building, doing a quick sweep. He’s back out a moment later to wave you in and you follow him to the backroom as he flattens out the blanket he’s brought. He sits and beckons you over to him and you give in immediately, wanting to be held and consoled. You sit and he tells you to wait, getting out a rag and a tiny bottle of alcohol, dabbing it on the rag. He turns to you and cleans off your neck, checking to make sure there were no other marks. The bruising isn’t bad, since the man only had his hands around you for a handful of seconds. He swipes another part of the rag across your hands, cleaning the minor scrapes there from your jump off the building.

“You’re crazy for doin’ that,” Joel chuckles.

You shrug. “I wasn’t going to let him kill you, Joel.”

“I’m not worth gettin’ killed, angel.”

“You’re worth it to your brothers….You’re worth it to me.”

Joel meets your eyes, darkening like they were the last time you were in this room. But his eyes dip to your throat and they return to normal.

“ ‘m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner, angel.”

You look at him, cupping his face to make sure he’s looking at you.

“You did everything-” you cough “-right. You can’t control the actions of others.”

HIs eyes look extra wet and you realize it must be tears. “You could’ve died savin’ me.”

“And I’d do it all over again. No-” you clear your throat “- way was I going to let them get you. I’ll be fine.”

You drop your hands from his face and smile, moving to pull some food from your backpack and eating in silence. It’s getting late judging by the darkness outside. You turn to Joel.

“I’ll take first watch. I need to-” you clear your throat “-work this out.”

Joel doesn’t argue but you can see his hesitation.

“If I need you, I’ll wake you. Ok?”

He studies your face for a moment before nodding, leaning against the cabinets and closing his eyes. You let him sleep for just a hair longer than he would like, but you couldn’t bear to wake him. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, the crease from his brows gone, his mouth slightly open as he breathes.

But your body betrays you, begging you to get some sleep so you nudge Joel awake. He blinks and stretches, yawning big as he looks at you.

“Feelin’ ok?”

“Better, actually. But I need sleep.”

“Come ‘mere,” Joel pulls you to his side as you curl into him, much the same as before when he comforted you after your nightmare. You fall asleep almost immediately, no dreams plaguing you this night, your body focused solely on healing.

You feel fingers tracing lines across your arm, applying a little more pressure as they bring you from sleep. Blinking awake, you see the fingers belong to Joel and you watch him trace lines on your skin, back and forth, little circles. It’s comforting, reminding you of his brothers that you love so deeply.

“We gotta get movin’, angel. We can make it back by nightfall. Cover our entrance a bit.”

Yawning, you stretch as you stand, Joel mimicking your motions. Putting out the gas oven, you both pack your things and head out of the diner.

A quick rest at the gas station near the city line and before you realize it, you’re crossing back under that ominous wall, tall and mocking you, knowing you’d come crawling back. The city is still asleep, but you can see people moving about in the dark, slinking down alleyways, ration cards or supplies exchanging hands. The same things you had been seeing. Joel holds your hand at one point, making sure you stick to the shadows against a tall building as you cross around a rather large group of people.

The Garcia’s were in the next sector down from yours, only several blocks from where you lived. Joel holds open the door for you and you walk past him, smiling a thanks as he closes the door behind you quietly. Their unit is on the 2nd floor. Joel knocks quietly and several seconds pass before you hear someone shuffling behind the door, moving locks out of place.

“Joel! It’s so good to see you!”

A man answered the door, shorter than Joel but well built. His hair is short and curly, the dark color of it starting to grey, stubble lining his face from not bothering to shave. As he turns, you take in his back - a scar down his neck and, scanning lower, definitely someone you’d want to watch walk away.

“Santi, this is Ghost. Ghost, Santi.”

“Nice to meet you.” His grip when he shakes your hand is firm but frazzled, laced with the worry of a parent.

“Do you have a bat or anything I can use to crush and grind plants?”

“Uh yeah. My wife she has one of those little-” he does the motions to mimic grinding things in a small bowl.

“A mortar and pestle? That’s perfect. I’ll also need some hot water. Do you have that?

“I do. Follow me.”

Santi takes you into the kitchen and hands you the mortar and pestle. Rifling through your backpack, you take out the plants and get to work, grinding enough for one cup. You toss the ground herb into the hot mug of water, taking the knife Santi handed you to stir it.

“Let this steep for about 5 minutes. Strain it into another mug. Have your kid drink this at least 4 times a day. It should bring down her fever. Take this to her now - I have more to say.”

Santi takes the mug from your hands and heads down a small hallway, presumably helping his kid to drink the tea.

“Joel, I think I may need to stay here a few days. He looks…stressed. If I can give them some help?” you cough slightly on the last word and Joel gently grips your chin to turn your head up, studying your neck.

“You sure you can handle it, angel?”

Placing your hand over his and removing it from your face, you hold onto it as you meet his eyes.

“I’m ok, Joel. Really. These people need my help. Tell Benny and Will I’ll be home in a few days. They’ll understand.”

You try to let go of his hand but he holds tight, rubbing little circles into the back of your hand.

“I’ll come get you in a few days. I don’t want you walkin’ alone.”

“I can-”

“Don’t bother arguin’. It’s a done deal, angel.”

You nod and Joel releases your hand as Santi walks back into the kitchen.

“She drank it. Says it’s a little bitter.”

“That it is. If you have anything to sweeten it, you’re welcome to add it. I’m sorry I don’t-”

“Please. You don’t have to apologize.”

You start explaining the process to him, how to grind the plants, what part to use, and when to give his daughter the tea. You do the same thing with the echinacea and see the overwhelmed look in his eyes.

“Santi?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m going to stay here a few days if that’s ok? You look..like you could use the help. I’m not a doctor but I know a little bit of healing so if she needs anything else, I’ll be here.”

Santi’s dark eyes find yours, tears glistening in them, threatening to trace a path down his cheeks. “You’d do that? You don’t even know us.”

“I know you’re friends with the Millers. And that’s good enough for me.” You clap him on the shoulder. “Now, do you have any twine or string? I’m going to hang these up to dry out. Then you can grind them up and store them for future use. I hope you won’t need it but you never know.”

Santi moves around the home to find the things you need while you walk Joel to the door.

“Tell Will and Benny to continue normally. I don’t want them coming here and making people look twice at the Garcias. Plus, if someone gets wind that I know stuff, the higher ups may move me off the wall and I like it up there.”

“Noted.”

Tension springs to life between you both, a nervous tension, neither one of you sure how to say goodbye. You decide to take a chance and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tight. He hesitates for a moment before hugging you back, and you hear him take an extra deep breath when his nose is buried in your hair. But then the hug is over and Joel is opening the front door.

“See you in a few days, angel.”

—----

Chapter 8>>

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Meet the Millers Taglist:

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[deskofninak]

Daylight // Peter Maximoff x GN!Reader

i don’t wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

Masterlist // Series Masterpost

Summary: Five times Peter Maximoff realises he’s in love with his partner but doesn’t say anything and the one time they do. 

Notes: Fluff (too much), kissing, issues with self-esteem, too much smiling, Peter and reader are 18 and living at the X-Mansion, reader’s powers aren’t mentioned, we’re just going to ignore the fact that nerf guns didn’t exist in the 70s.

Word count: 3392 | 6 sections

Let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist.

1.

It had been a long training day and Peter was exhausted. Yes, it was super cool to be part of the X-Men but it was also super exhausting to be part of the X-Men. That’s what they didn’t tell you when they made you sign up. He’d been holding back on the urge to grab Professor X, run to Egypt and leave him there, the old bastard.

Quiet, Peter, came the voice in his voice. Peter huffed. Of course, the telepath had heard that while ignoring all his other pleas during the past five hours to let him go rest.

I’m letting you go back now, came the exasperated response.

Peter pouted and left, arriving in his dorm room less than a second later. You were seated on the floor, books and loose sheets spread out around you, nose scrunched in confusion. You two had been dating for some months now and yet, every time he looked at you, his breath was knocked out of his chest. He allowed himself that one second before you noticed him, allowed it to linger as long as possible, his eyes scanning every inch of your face, committing the details to memory. 

Alas, when it came to you, time moved fast, even for him. You looked up at him and your face widened into a grin. “Hey, Maximoff, how was training?”

“Exhausting. How goes the Biology assignment?”

“Exhausting.” You picked up a book, setting it in your lap. “Biology should not be this hard.”

“If it helps, I’m sure my exhausting training session was easier than your exhausting Biology assignment.”

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head at him. “How does that help me?”

He pretended to think for a second. “Oh, right, no. It helps me though.”

You glared at him in mock outrage. “And just for that comment, you must now help me with this. Surrender your free evening to me, Maximoff, or you shall suffer.”

They’re cute when they’re trying to be dramatic, he thought. “Never.”

You pouted but then your eye caught on a sheet of paper on the floor and you pounced on it. “That’s the one I’ve been searching for! YES!”

Peter watched you with the tiniest hint of a smile on his face and, unbidden, a phrase jumped into his mind. I love you. 

For a moment, the thought left him stunned. He’d known in his heart of hearts since your very first conversation that you were possibly the one, but he’d never given it much conscious thought. That phrase though, those three little words, rattled him. Not because they weren’t true, oh no, but because there was always a niggling doubt in his mind that you were too good for him. If he told you he loved you, he might scare you away. And then where would he be?

Grabbing a pack of twinkies, he zoomed over to you, planted a quick kiss on your lips and, before you could react, disappeared down the hallway. Your flustered voice shouting “MAXIMOFF” followed him down the hall.

2.

He had been running for what seemed like hours to him but were probably not more than twenty minutes. It was a school night and he needed to catch up on sleep but due to the special nature of his powers, sitting still for too long left him with a lot of energy to expend to the point where it almost made him anxious. 

Free of all the hyperactivity, he made his way back to his dorm room. His brows furrowed at the figure in his bed before he realised it was you. You were buried under a pile of blankets, all curled up and looking adorable. Just the sight of you was like a giant boost of serotonin - he felt energised and happy. 

He took off his jacket and got under the covers. The movement caused your eyes to flutter open, gaze soft and sleep-laden. “Hey, Maximoff.” Your voice was hoarse but a smile was already snaking its way up your lips. Peter smiled too because there it was again - that bright happiness in his chest. Sometimes, he wondered if the very sight of you might make him combust out of sheer happiness. Heh, that would be the way to go.

You shifted, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Hey,” he whispered back. 

“Where were you?” you murmured.

“Running. Too much energy.” He kept it short, knowing that your eyes were already closing again.

You raised a hand and patted the tufts of his hair. “Better now?”

He nodded and let you pull him towards you, his head nestled under your chin, his hands around your waist, your body warm and solid against his. And there it was again, those three words - I love you. 

But, no. He wouldn’t tell you he was in love with you when you were in your pyjamas and half asleep. So he pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat, you shivered and the two of you drifted off to sleep, a soft smile on Peter’s face.

3.

It was a wonderful morning - the sun had dawned bright and clear on the school, and believe it or not, there were birds chirping outside. The cynical teenager in Peter scrunched its nose up in disgust. The only truly wonderful thing about that morning from his perspective was that he would get to spend it with you. Finals had ended the day before and everyone at the mansion would be settling in for a summer free of studying.

He was in the canteen right now, his plate piled high with pancakes. Other students were seated around him, just as exuberant about the beginning of summer. He felt your presence like a touch on the back of his neck and looked up to see you walk in. You were still in your pyjamas, mouth open in a yawn. 

You smiled at him and gestured toward the kitchen, indicating that you would get your breakfast before joining him. As you passed by, you dropped a kiss - just the sweetest brush of your lips - onto the top of his head. He turned a bright red but you had already disappeared into the kitchen and didn’t notice.

Now, Peter wasn’t against PDA, per se. It just continually mystified him how someone as wonderful as you could like him. Well, not just like him, but like like him. Sure, he’d had a crush on you for the longest time because you were you - you were wonderful and magical and so much more. But then you’d reciprocated his feelings and he felt like maybe he needed to jump off a building to wake himself up from this dream because there was no way it was real.

And now, every time he saw you, every time he remembered that you were dating him, his heart skipped a beat like he was a hero in some cheesy romcom. He wanted to spend every day with you and show you parts of his life he’d never dared share with anyone else. And so, when you did something as simple as give him a kiss on the head, a gesture so normal and yet so sweet and intimate, it blew him away.

However, he quickly snapped out of his reverie when he saw you heading back toward him. Your plate was stacked high with pancakes, too. You pulled a chair right next to him, pushed some of the pancakes off your plate and onto his (because of course you knew him well enough to know he wanted more) and rested your head on his shoulder, slowly taking bites of the pancakes. 

And suddenly he saw a vision of the future - you and him when you were sixty years old in a cosy apartment as you pushed pancakes onto his plate and he doused both of your portions with maple syrup. You would put your head on his shoulder as you two ate and watched the sun come up. 

The thought made him smile and it took everything in him not to grab you, whisk you away to his room and kiss you silly. But you were probably hungry and there was no way he would take food away from you just because he’d decided to be incredibly happy.

So he leant over and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You scrunched your nose up at him, this one in amusement, and he smiled back. And thought, I love you.

4.

It was a bad day. There was a thunderstorm outside and Peter believed he was worthless. 

It was the kind of sadness that seeped into your bones until you felt like you were so heavy, you could sink to the bottom of an ocean and also that you were so weightless, the slightest wind could pick you up and be away with you until you were lost to the world.

He was sitting at the foot of his bed, hands clenched into fists, his thoughts swirling faster than Dorothy’s house during the tornado that catapulted her to Oz. It was so loud in his head that he didn’t hear you come into his room.

It wasn’t until he felt soft hands on his fists that he looked up to see you kneeling before him, face set with worry as you took in his rigid body posture and the tears swimming in his eyes. “Hey, Pete.” You sat down in front of him, slowly uncurling his fists and taking his hands in yours. You’d witnessed enough of his spirals to know what he was thinking and the effect they had on him.

He held onto you fiercely as if he feared that the storm in his head might rip you away from him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he leaned forward until his forehead touched yours. Your hands ran up and down his arms and you began pressing kisses to his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks and his chin. “I’m here,” you whispered.

The repetitive movements calmed him down - the storm clouds abated and his breath flowed more easily. “Hey,” he croaked.

You laughed a little. “Hey.” Your eyes were thick with tears and worry, too.

He eased his head onto your shoulder and it took you planting a few more kisses to the side of his head for him to crack a smile. “How was your day?” he asked, voice still raw.

“Pretty crappy without you.”

The stiffness seemed to ease out of his body as he began to relax. Suddenly, something hit him between the shoulder blades. It didn’t hurt but he straightened just the same, confusion etched on his face. “What the-?” His eyes widened just a smidge when he saw the NERF gun in your hand. “Did you just fire that at me?”

You nodded solemnly. “It was punishment. For thinking shit about my boyfriend.”

He blinked rapidly, head cocked to the side. “What?”

“This is my new solution - every time you talk down to yourself, I will fire one of these at you. And every time you think good things about yourself, I will … I’ll reward you with a kiss.”

He studied the seriousness on your face, one eyebrow raised in challenge, and then the NERF gun, cocked in his direction.

I love you. 

He could hear the phrase in the beat of his heart.

“Okay,” he said. “Nice things. I have lots.”

“Good,” you said. “Start.”

His mouth twisted into a wry grin and that was how you spent the evening. Thinking of nice things to say for himself was harder than he’d anticipated and he did manage to get ‘shot’ multiple times. Not that he minded. What he wanted desperately were your kisses and the way you would smile when he complimented himself. And he would do anything to make you smile so he kept it up. And somewhere along the way, the system began to work - the nicer he was to himself, the more the sadness lifted from his bones.

5.

It was date night and Peter was quite contentedly curled up in bed with you, his favourite movie playing on the TV screen. He had shown it to you multiple times and even though it wasn’t the kind of movie you usually liked, you still watched it enthusiastically with him every time. 

His eyes were glued to the screen, his brain concentrating super hard so it was a little while before he noticed what you were doing. You had been murmuring under your breath for the last few minutes. It confused him - you couldn’t be saying something because you were barely audible. Were you singing a song under your breath? 

He waited a little, focusing on both the movie and your murmurs until it clicked. You were muttering movie dialogues under your breath. A movie that you weren’t even that fond of and only watched because he loved it, and yet, you could recite it by memory.

Before he could even think about his own actions, he had shifted closer to you and his hand was cupping your cheek and his lips were pressed against yours. You gasped slightly at the sudden change in Peter’s mood and quickly melted against him, kissing him back. 

Grinning, he pulled away. Your eyes were closed and you were a little breathless. Peter committed the details to memory, as he often found himself doing when he was around you. 

You opened your eyes and grinned at him shyly. “What was that about?”

He shrugged.

“You’re missing the movie,” you protested, when he still didn’t look away from you.

“I don’t care.” He was still grinning at you.

You shifted so your head was resting in the crook of his neck.

Peter believed this was all the confirmation he needed. He’d been afraid to tell you those pesky three little words for fear that you would leave him but … Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you would love him too and maybe you would stay. Maybe Peter Maximoff could have a happy ending too sometimes.

When he looked down at you, he realised you’d fallen asleep. He tugged at the blanket, pulling it over you, and thought, I love you.

6.

It was a beautiful morning - the sun was shining high in the sky and there was a soft breeze to eliminate the sticky heat - and you felt like a tightly wound spring. You had an assignment to hand in the following day but it felt like your head had been ducked under a frozen pond - work that would normally not take longer than thirty minutes continued to stump you for hours. 

The professor for the class was very accommodating and would have no trouble providing an extension. But you believed that you should be able to do this and so there you sat, at your desk, frustrated to tears but refusing to give up. 

You looked over your shoulder at Peter, curled up on your bed, fast asleep. You had considered asking him for help, if not with the school work then just with calming you down. But it was difficult for Peter to sleep for extended periods of time due to his mutation and so you let the silver-haired boy rest. But you kept sneaking glances at his sleeping form - let his soft hair and the mesmerising curves of his eyelashes, the very planes of his face ebb away at your distress.

Peter believed in you. So why was it so hard believing in yourself?

You turned back to your work and attacked it with renewed vigour. And before you knew, two hours had passed. You didn’t realise Peter was awake until all the pages on your desk appeared a little disturbed. You turned around in your seat and were a little startled to find Peter standing right behind you, frowning at your work.

You knew Peter would never be sarcastic about your inability to do something properly but you tensed all the same. Peter seemed to sense this - the sweet boy was so in tune with your movements - and he shifted his frown to you.

You had wiped away your tears but your eyes were still a little red and you watched the worry settle into his features.

“I can’t seem to be able to do it,” you whispered, your mouth turning down at the edges.

He reached for you and in the next instant you were standing in the mansion grounds under the shade of a tree. Peter had used his mutation with you in tow so many times now, the nausea barely even hit but you were confused by the changed scenery all the same. Another second passed and now there was a blanket and a picnic basket set up. A triumphant Peter stood in front of you, hands on his hips, smirking.

You peered at the items in the picnic basket. “Do I want to ask if you stole those?”

Peter’s expression faltered and then he shook his head. You smiled.

It was twilight. Peter and you lay side-by-side on the blanket gazing up at the changing hues of the evening sky. Peter had spent the past hour giving you kisses and making a list of everything he loved about you and everything you were capable of until you believed it would be impossible for your ego to be boosted any further.

You shifted your head toward his shoulder. Peter had begun pointing out shapes that he saw in the clouds and you’d laughed so much, your grin felt carved into your face. Your worries had melted away and been replaced with a steady confidence in yourself, all thanks to the boy next to you.

You watched him with a fond look on your face as he studied the clouds for another shape, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. You could sense a sarcastic remark sitting at the tip of his tongue. The wind was ruffling his hair and the moment felt so delicate and precious, it almost brought tears to your eyes.

And somehow, your joy in that moment unlocked a key truth you had felt in your heart but never voiced - you shifted onto your side, facing Peter, and whispered softly, “I love you.”

Peter stilled and his eyes widened a fraction in alarm. He turned to you and said, “No.”

Now it was your turn to be alarmed. “What?”

“No, I didn’t mean “no”, I just meant that I had a plan and I was going to get you your favourite flowers and maybe some chocolates, do the whole cheesy scene, maybe learn a little dance. I was still planning it and then, and now, you just -”

“What?”

Peter looked at you mournfully. “I was planning a whole beautiful evening to make you feel special and to tell you that I was in love with you but now you’ve ruined it all by being sentimental and I mean I get it, I’m irresistible but still -”

Normally, you would have laughed and rolled your eyes at that comment about him being irresistible but your heart had gotten caught on the phrase “I was in love with you” and it appeared to be trying to execute a dance performance in your chest. 

“You’re in love with me?” you whispered.

Peter finally seemed to have realised what he’d admitted in the middle of his ramblings and was watching you, mouth agape like that of a fish. “I- No!” he scoffed.

You smiled. “You already said it. No take-backsies.”

“Fine,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to take it back any way. I do, you know. Love you, I mean. I’ve realised it like a bajillion times by now, just didn’t know how to say it.”

“Well, it’s lucky you have me then,” you said. “I was also the first one to ask you out on a date, you remember? And the first one to kiss you.”

“Not my fault you’re so breathtaking that I fall apart around you.”

“Hmm.” You grinned.

“Hmm.” He grinned back. 

Leaning forward, he captured your lips in a kiss, using his arm to pull you into him. Your hands settled on the nape of his neck as you kissed back, pulling him impossibly closer.

Peter had been right. Maybe he could have a happy ending too sometimes.

xxx

Thank you for reading this! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. :) ~ Nina

[fivelakesinwriting]

Hi love your Barry content ( he deserves all the love). Could you possibly write something about Barry only being soft for his girl and his girl only. Or even him being super protective over her when a kook/or pogue hits on her

Author's Notes: Thank you so much, lovely - the character of Barry is so interesting to me, and I'm so happy you enjoy my content surrounding him. If this was your request - I hope you love it xoxo

Warnings: Guns, Mentions of drugs, Swearing, Sexual references - Sexual innuendos, Violence.

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

Vulnerable wasn't a state that came natural to him. Perhaps as a child, but he didn't really remember back that far. He was a soldier and he had to be tough, show no emotion. Don't get attached, it's just easier that way.

Even when he came home he found he didn't attach himself to many people. Or perhaps, there just weren't too many people around he wanted to cling to. He always had his back up around people. If they didn't get to know him, then he didn't get to know them and then his heart never got broken.

Until Her.

There wasn't really a timeline for their relationship, or when she started coming around. If he was honest, it all started to blend together. One day she wasn't there and the next she was. On his couch, perched on his lap with her fingers in his hair and her sweet voice in his ear.

Barry thought she was the sweetest girl in the world. Too sweet to be hanging around with drug dealing scum like him. Too soft, sweet and all around precious to be hanging around with a guy like him. Tripping over a loaded gun every step she took. She would give him those gentle, knowing eyes after she had gathered herself.

I know this is who you are, baby.

It was her unwavering love, patience and support of him for exactly who he was that helped him break his own walls down bit by bit. The way she didn't mind that his house was messy, all types of people from different walks of life knocking on his door. Or how she let him rest his head on her chest after a particularly long day, her fingers twisting the loose lock of hair the hung in his face.

Barry, quite simply, felt like he would die for her if it came down to it. He wasn't sure why he would ever find himself that in position, or why his sweet girlfriend, content on spending her nights cuddled on the couch with him or buried between the pages of book, would ever put either of them in that position.

But he would go down in flames for his woman.

"Baby?" Her voice was soft behind him as he sat at the table out in the sun-room, weighing out bags. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt like a teenager getting caught with his first dime-bag of weed.

"Hey. I was just finishin' up in here. Won't be long." He muttered with a clear of his throat as he turned in his chair to see her standing in the doorway, fiddling with the hem of her dress.

"Are we still going for a walk on the beach today?" She inquired, so sugary sweet it was a shock to his system. He felt dizzy, lightheaded.

Barry stood up, his work completely forgotten at her question. He had promised her that he would take her to the beach. A simple request, but he preferred to say "low profile" and the beach seemed like the least low profile place of all. But if she asked him, he would oblige without question.

"Yeah. Can go now, if you want." Barry nodded as he wiped his hands off on the back of his shorts before he reached for her hands. No part of his life, his work, would touch her. He still didn't know why she chose a life with him, but he took it day by beautiful day.

She took the small steps forward so her bare toes touched the tips of work boots, her hands reaching for his to lace their fingers. Barry looked down at their feet, passed their hands interlocked, at her little painted toes. It would take him a while to admit out loud that the bright colours she painted her toes made him just a little bit weak. The way she curled her toes against his shins when they were in bed together, or even the gentle way she rubbed the flats of her feet against his own to stay warm at night.

It made him remember he was still alive.

Barry loathed the beach. So many tourists, unhappy kids and parents, sun burnt and drunk college kids who just didn't know when to call it quits. All of it was terrible, but he didn't seem to notice all of those distractions so much when he was with her. Playfully kicking water at her as they walked the shoreline, a soft kiss to her forehead now and then. He wasn't too fond of large displays of affection, they seemed grotesque to him. A kiss to the forehead, or the squeeze of the hand was more than enough for him.

The looks of the frat guys around them didn't go unnoticed by the soldier. He was acutely aware of everything that was going on around them. He knew the toddler at the top of the hill, near the food truck, was going to fall the minute it started run. He could see it in his brain before it happened. He saw the teen girls ahead, and to the left of them, battling over who got to take the photo to commemorate the day.

And he saw the group of Kooks, more than one of them could be called a regular customer, eyes zeroed in on Barry and his girl slowly walking down the shoreline. He could see their lips moving, but he couldn't hear anything. A Kook Goon Squad, clad in overpriced bathing suits and Oakley's. He hated them, every last one of them.

"Here. Think that ice cream truck over there has that ice for little kids you like. Take this, I'll be right there." Barry grumbled as he reached into the back pocket of his shorts and pulling out his wallet.

"Super Hero ice cream is not for little kids, Barry." She scoffed, but graciously accepted his wallet with a peck on his cheek before she took off with a run through the water, splashing up her thighs.

Barry ran his hand over his chin as he made sure his love far enough away before he turned on his heel and stalked over to the Kooks beneath a beach umbrella, attempting to tap a keg.

"...too hot for him, though. I met her at this party a year ago but no deal. She's loyal as shit to him, dude."

The conversation made Barry vibrate with anger. She had told him about that party and how some guy had been unruly with her, would not leave her alone.

"The only way he could have been closer to me is if he had been inside of me. He was so creepy."

Barry clenched his fists as he made the last few steps up to the group of Kooks, ready to strike. He pulled his fist back, the blood in his head blocking out any other sounds than the pure rage he felt at the disrespect they were speaking about his girlfriend.

Barry pulled his elbow back and connected his fist with the Kook's jaw, unannounced. Not the most fair punch he's ever doled out, but he didn't think that hitting on another man's girlfriend was exactly fair either. He wasn't sure if it was the sheer force of his punch, or the fact that it was unexpected - perhaps a bit of both - but the Kook was knocked off of his feet, and onto his back.

"So, you like hitting on girls with boyfriend's? Being persistent? Man, if I was as persistent as you, I'd probably having my fucking money from your ass by now." Barry growled as he crouched down in the sand beside the boy as he groaned, clutching his jaw.

"Leave my girl alone, asshole." Barry spat as he stood up, glaring at the friends that stood helpless around the Kook writhing on the ground.

Barry walked away from the rich kids with too much time and money to spare, and found his girl at the front of the line for ice cream. He let out a deep breath as he wiped off his raw, bloody knuckle on the underside of his shirt.

"Hi, baby. You're just in time. I got stuck behind a group of like, ten kids. Do you want something?" She smiled as he walked up behind her and gently placed his hands on her hip as not to scare her.

"Nah. Share yours." He replied softly as he leaned in to press another kiss to her forehead.

"See? Super Hero ice cream isn't just for kids."

Hotties:

@vintageobx @starkey-babie @fashion-fasting @barrysjumpsuit @babeyglo @rottenstyx @pogueslandia @whcclxr @soph0864

@beauvibaby @plutooryectors @sodasback

*tag list is open, please let me know if I forgot you or you would like to be added/removed from particular posts. I've removed the people that don't pre-populate :(

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!

[ragingbookdragon]

The Secrets Best Left In The Dark

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death

Author's Note: I thrive on angst, so I have no apologies for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

They’d never claim their eldest sibling was cowardly. Far from it, she put her life on the line every day, in and out of the suit, defending those she cared for with a strength that they’d never seen in anyone. But while everyone in their family was typically hot-tempered and ready for a beatdown, she was calm and quiet. Always kind, and never letting anger, or any type of other emotion show besides pleasantness. For a while, they merely assumed she was the doormat type, simply on the basis that she never argued with their dad over anything—the whole “It’s my way or the highway” and his way was what she always went with—and that made her seem like an alien surrounded by humans because everyone argued with Bruce. That, and the fact that whenever she got into the rare fight during patrol, she’d never hit anybody. She was trained to take down multiple combatants and not once did she ever punch, hit, or kick a single person.

It was practically abnormal to be in the Batfamily and never lay a hand on a criminal, and yet that was what their sister did. Hardly ever did she use force to get what she wanted, always relying on stealth. Even on the minute cases when she got caught in an infiltration and had to fight her way out, she used electrified gauntlets to subdue them, rarely coming to blows. So, in a sense while everyone in her family was an aggressive fighter, she was a defensive—or perhaps a passive one—and that’s how she acted in life too. Always passive by nature, but always playing the peacekeeper between brothers and between fathers and sons.

They never knew why she was such a way, from the stories that Diana and Clark used to tell, back when it was just their sister and Bruce, she was a whirlwind that got into fights with anything that dared breathe in her direction—apparently, she made her angriest siblings look like mice. But no matter how many times they pried or even asked Bruce (apparently, he didn’t know what changed either—and this was coming from the World’s Greatest Detective), she never talked about it, simply saying that she grew out of always being angry and wanted to be calmer.

They suspected she held a dark secret—but no one could’ve prepared for just how dark and damaging it had been to her all these years.

***

In hindsight, taking a trip into Scarecrow’s lab was a bad idea, but when the offer had come up in the cave from her father, (Y/N) was happy to lend a hand, knowing that with his recent injury, he wouldn’t’ve been able to get out there during the night. It was also amazing, in the twenty-seven years she’d been alive, and in the past nineteen years that she’d been a vigilante, she’d never seen her father take a break—she could count on one hand how many times he had, and even then, he was still working in the cave, so technically it wasn’t a break.

But after tangling with Bane and Croc, he’d broken a few ribs and after repeated complaints and worries from her, his sons, and Alfred, Bruce finally agreed to let his children handle patrol. Which is why when the quadrants of the city were split up between Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian, it left (Y/N) to pick up specific places that Bruce wanted checked out—she warmly agreed to do so. And while she was confident in her abilities to do everything, he asked of her, she should’ve called for backup when it came to infiltrating Scarecrow’s hideout.

***

Another vent went off above her and she ducked, eyes narrowing as she watched the orange fog, appearing blue through her detective mode, drift out. She would’ve sprayed it, but she’d used up all of her explosive gel covering the others. Now she simply had to avoid them and hope that her gas mask filtered properly—so far, it was. A shrill laugh echoed through the speakers above her, and shivers went down her spine.

Anytime now, Batgirl. You will fall too.

She frowned. “I’m not afraid of you, Doctor Crane.” Ducking under another pipe, she added, “I can help you if you’ll let me.”

Help me? Help…ME? You can’t even help YOURSELF!

Scarecrow had always been a talker, much like the majority of the villains they faced, and he was looking for a rise. She came to the end of the corridor where the pipes met a brick wall and she sighed, searching for a way through. A vent covered the top right corner and she pulled out the grapple gun, pointing it at the grate. She pressed the trigger and it latched onto the metal bars; grasping the cord, she yanked as hard as she could, stepping backwards when it fell, hitting the ground with a clang.

(Y/N) heaved herself up into the vent and crawled on her hands and knees, as quietly as she could, twisting and turning through the maze of confined metal. When she came to the end, another grate covered the exit and she pressed her foot against it, pushing until the bolts popped loose and she could slip out.

From the looks of it, if the advanced chemistry equipment were any help, she’d ended up in Scarecrow’s lab. He wasn’t in sight, but that gave her time to look around and see if he’d changed any formulas recently. She raised her wrist and tapped at the blue screen, taking a moment to run a program. When it beeped, (Y/N) sighed in relief and reached up, pulling the gas mask off—the air was clean.

She set the mask down on the counter and put a finger to her ear. “Batman, do you read me?” His voice came through a moment later.

“I read you Batgirl. Loud and clear.”

“I’m in Doctor Crane’s lab,” she said, poking around at the notes he’d scrawled out. “I don’t see anything new. The formulas all look the same.”

“Compounds?”

She frowned and read. “Honestly, it’s a bit hard to decipher. His handwriting is a lot like Red’s when he’s had one too many energy drinks.” A quiet huff came from over the line, telling her that he was amused. “I’ll send you pictures of it and see if you can.” (Y/N) snapped a few photos. “Get ‘em?”

“Just now,” he replied, and she walked over to one of the lit Bunsen burners.

“Looks like he’s got something brewing right now though,” (Y/N) leaned over and peered into it, careful to avoid any steam that was rising.

“Recognize it?”

She paused. “It’s not the usual stuff he’s got. It looks almost golden and—”

All at once the dish exploded and she had just enough time to cover her face from the shattering glass, letting out a gasp as she recoiled.

“Batgirl, what happened?”

(Y/N) coughed and waved a hand, and when her hand appeared double, she breathed out in shock. “Oh no,” she whispered.

“Batgirl, report.” She hurried to the exit of the lab as Scarecrow’s cackle sounded overhead.

“I’ve been hit with a blast of toxin.” Pulling open the door, she fumbled with her utility belt then let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

(Y/N) shook her head and weaved down the corridors, the faster she got to her bike, the faster she could get back to the cave.

“I don’t have any anti-toxin on me.” She pushed against the doors and stumbled out into the cold and rainy night. Her mind was already beginning to fog over as she climbed onto her bike, and she barely had enough focus to keep it steady while she programmed it to auto-drive.

“I’m sending one of the boys to you.”

She grunted and lifted her foot as the bike revved and shot forward. “Don’t. I’ve already programmed the bike to the cave’s coordinates. I’ll be back in less than fifteen minutes.”

“You won’t make it that long.”

(Y/N) groaned as the lights began to flash around her and she saw faces and images passing her. “I just have to…focus.”

Horns blared around her as the bike weaved in and out of cars and she held onto the frame with all the strength she had. His voice started echoing in her ears and she shut her eyes, trying to block it out.

You could’ve saved me.

Another groan escaped her, and she heard, “(Y/N), talk to me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t—I have to—focus now.” But with every passing second, his voice got louder and more insistent.

You let me die. You watched me die.

(Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears and they dripped down her cheeks. I tried to save you. she thought, hoping it would suffice, but she knew it wouldn’t. I tried so hard to. The last thing she remembered was turning onto the street that led to the cave.

***

Bruce was already pushing away from the Batcomputer when the boys arrived back at the cave, Dick and Damian from the Batmobile, and Tim and Jason from their own rides. Knowing that their father wasn’t one to sit around, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to be moving, but with how quick and worried his movements seemed, they knew something was wrong.

Dick pulled the cowl away from his face and asked, “B? What’s wrong?”

Bruce didn’t respond at first, hurrying towards the medical station they had. “Your sister was dosed with fear toxin and she doesn’t have anti-toxin to counteract it.”

Jason, who’d already taken his hood off, was already in the process of putting it back on. “Let one of us take it to her.”

Their father shook his head, rummaging for an antidote. “She’s coming back here.”

“Here?” Tim repeated, striding over. “Fear toxin works within seconds on normal people, minutes for us.” He looked at his brothers. “She won’t have enough time to get back here and not be under the effects.”

Bruce nodded, focusing as he poured a vial of glowing green liquid into the needle gun. “I know.” He looked at Tim. “That’s why I’m getting it ready for her.”

“Father, can we do anything?” Damian questioned, pulling away the domino mask from his eyes.

“Get ready to be on the defensive if she’s offensive,” he replied. “I don’t think she’ll hit anybody, but you never know.”

“She can’t hit that hard. (Y/N) only weighs—” Jason cut off as the rev of an engine cut though the air and they turned to see their eldest sister coming in on a sleek black motorcycle, that was shaking badly.

“(Y/N)!” Dick yelled and the bike suddenly shifted and toppled sideways, throwing her from it. It slid across the cave floor in a hail of sparks, metal, and plastic flying in every direction as (Y/N) rolled too.

They started running towards her, hoping to stop her when her back collided with one of the glass cases that held their suits, and she went limp.

Bruce reached her first, and knelt down, setting the antidote aside to check her first. The way she hit the case and with how hard, it was possible that she could be seriously injured—or worse.

“(Y/N)!” he called, hands coming to pull her away from the case. She whimpered and he let out a sigh—she was still alive. “(Y/N), can you hear me?” he inquired, reaching up to pull the cowl from her face.

Her brothers crowded behind him and they all stared in horror as tears streamed down her cheeks, and blood out of her nose.

“I’m sorry,” she bawled. “I tried to save you.” Bruce looked at her then grabbed the needle gun, bringing it up to her neck.

“Hang on, (Y/N). You’re gonna be okay.”

She grabbed his hand and cried, “I held on as long as I could, but my grip was slipping. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold onto you. I’m sorry I let you go. I let you die. I’m sor—” her sobs cut her off as she curled in on herself, and as if finally snapping out of a trance, Bruce pulled his hand from her grip and pulled the trigger of the gun.

(Y/N) jerked as the needle entered her skin and they watched the neon green liquid in the vial emptied. She fell into whimpers and mumbles of “I’m sorry” before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed in Bruce’s arms.

He stared at her for a second, feeling numb at his daughter’s admissions. Whatever her fear had been, it’d been there a long time, and he had no idea what it was about. Sighing heavily, he drew his eyes to his sons, to Jason.

“Will you take (Y/N) to her bedroom while I get an IV ready?”

Jason nodded and bent down, picking up his unconscious sister. He tucked her head in the crook of his neck and looked at Dick. “Get the doors, yeah?” Dick nodded and hurried ahead of him, while Tim and Damian followed in suit.

Bruce was left alone in a matter of moments, and all he could do was rise to his feet and ready the medical supplies, all the while, thinking back on every night that (Y/N) had gone on patrol in the last nineteen years—and the last time someone died in front of her.

***

Her head felt like an overripe melon ready to burst, and that first moment of cracking her eyes open was the biggest mistake since she told her dad what ‘Thot’ meant. The second she opened them, she shut them once more, inhaling deeply through her nose as the fog started to clear from her mind.

“Queenie, hey, you’re awake,” Jason murmured, and she nodded, blinking a few times before his face came into focus, Dick appearing Tim appearing behind him.

“Go get dad,” Dick said to someone, and she figured it was Damian since neither Jason nor Tim moved.

(Y/N) started shifting, trying to sit up when Dick put his hand on her shoulder, gentle, but firm as he said, “Don’t try to move, Barbie.”

“Where’s dad?” she asked, craning her neck to see.

“Damian’s going to get him sis,” Tim answered, smoothing out the blanket covering her. “Just relax. You took a beating when you came into the cave.”

“I did?” she questioned, eyes widening in shock when they nodded, faces pinched with worry.

The ceiling light turned on just bright enough to give sight and they looked at Bruce who was coming in, Damian following.

“(Y/N),” Dick moved, letting Bruce take his spot, and he took her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand. “You had us all worried.”

She frowned and exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She gazed between them, and something in their eyes made an emotion she couldn’t describe rise in her chest.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” (Y/N) met Bruce’s eyes. “What happened?” Before he could answer, she gasped and looked at her brothers. “I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

A chorus of hurried, “No’s!” rang out and she sighed in relief, reclining back on the pillows.

“Oh, thank goodness.” She went silent, then started, “But…something did happen, didn’t it?”

Her brothers glanced between themselves then they looked at Bruce who sighed and squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to him.

“What?” she asked and when he said nothing, she repeated, “Dad, what?”

His steel blue eyes met hers and he murmured, “You were apologizing for…letting someone die.”

Whatever had flashed in her eyes that told them she knew exactly what they were talking about was shocking enough because Jason said, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna, Queenie.”

(Y/N) fell silent for a full minute and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet and the look in her eyes was far away. “Before Dick came to the manor it was just you and I patrolling Gotham. At eight, I wasn’t really let out of your sight, but one night I had wandered off while you were dealing with Two-Face.” She looked at Bruce. “I found an injured GCPD officer on a bridge. He had been tailing Killer Croc.”

She glanced at Tim. “His name was Grady Richards.”

Tim’s eyes fell to the tablet in his hands, and he tapped at the screen for a few moments, then read, “Hero cop Grady Richards honored after dying in line of duty. He fell off a broken bridge on Miagani Island.”

Bruce’s eyes found hers again. “He didn’t fall, did he?”

(Y/N) felt tears grow in her vision and she shook her head. “No…no he didn’t.” Inhaling deeply, she recounted, “Croc came back and there was no way either of us could’ve taken him, so we ran. And Croc chased us.” She shut her eyes, remembering the night.

***

Fear pulsed through her veins as she sprinted as far away from the overgrown crocodile as she could. The GCPD officer was ahead of her, but he stopped and spun around to see her.

“Hurry!” he yelled, pointing back to the car. “Get to the cruiser!”

She spared a glance over her shoulder, eyes going wide when she saw Killer Croc picking up one of the concrete guards.

“Duck!” was all she heard, and she hit the ground, watching as if in slow motion as it flew overhead, then smashed into the top of the cop’s car, glass and metal shattering under the pressure.

Someone grabbed her by the back of her suit and hauled her up, slinging her behind them, and the back of the GCPD officer’s uniform came into view.

“Start running, Batgirl! And don’t stop!” he yelled, and when he has his sidearm drawn, he looked down at her. “You’ve got as much time as I have bullets.” He turned, opening fire, and she took a moment to stare before scrambling to her feet to start running.

A cry of pain sounded behind her, and against her better judgement, she turned and looked, gaping as Croc’s arm sent the officer flying. He hit the guardrail and collapsed against it and her feet were moving before she could stop them.

The first punch went to the back of Croc’s knee and she knew it had to have hurt her more than it did him because he didn’t even flinch. But when those glowing yellow eyes peered down at her, she knew she was in trouble.

“Looks like I’ve got an appetizer for the night!” he laughed and reached for her, but she ducked and rolled out of his way, standing in front of the wounded GCPD officer, who weakly looked up at her.

“What are you—doing? I told you…to run.”

She couldn’t beat Killer Croc, and she knew it, but she shook her head and stared down the villain before her.

Croc’s attacks were wide and though she was small, she was pushed to her limit rolling and dodging every one. After a few moments, she was practically dead on her feet, huffing as her lungs begged for air. She kept wiping away the rain that splattered against her mask and on a particularly unlucky step, she found herself slipping.

And it was all the opening that Croc needed because he swiped at her and she flew backwards into the officer who’d managed to stand, just barely. Colliding with him tipped his balance and they went over the guardrail, barreling towards the ground.

She reached out as fast as she could and grabbed hold of the metal beam that ran the length of the under bridge, crying out in pain as it pulled the joints and bones. Her other hand gripped the officer’s and she held on tight. Croc leaned over the bridge, apparently not seeing them because his footsteps went off in the opposite direction, leaving them in silence.

Time passed and she wasn’t sure how long, but both her arms were getting tired, and she looked down at the officer.

“Sir?” she called, and he looked up at her. “You have to climb. I’m starting to lose grip.”

He tried to reach up but let out a cry and grabbed his side with his free hand. Pulling his hand away, she saw the crimson dilute with rainwater.

The hand that held the ledge began to cramp and she started hyperventilating. “Please, you need to hurry! I can’t hold on much longer!” Again, he tried, and she looked down at him as her fingers began to shake.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered and let go of his hand, and the last thing she saw until he hit the ground was the sight of his eyes, wide with fear and pleading.

***

“I watched his head explode when he hit the ground,” she said, tears pouring down her cheeks as she stared out the window, watching the rain hit against the glass. “I had to make a choice. Either both of us died or one of us lived.” (Y/N) looked at Bruce. “And I chose my life over his.”

No one could believe their ears at the story she’d told, but suddenly, the self-sacrificing attitude their sister had, the way she’d bend over backwards for anyone, made perfect sense—she did it out of atonement, for a wrong she carried since she was eight years old.

“I pulled myself back up onto the bridge and I ran as far as I could and didn’t look back,” she said. “I kept my mouth shut when the paper ran his story and never told anyone about it.”

(Y/N)’s breath shuddered. “I just pushed it down as far inside me as I could and tried to forget about it.” Her eyes met Bruce and she tearfully stated, “But every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face.”

He leaned forward and took her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly, dark brows furrowed in hurt.

She swallowed thickly and shook her head as she replied, “I killed someone that night. I was terrified about what you would’ve said. About what you would’ve done.” He gazed at her and (Y/N) whispered, “I’m sorry, dad.”

Bruce dropped her gaze and took a deep breath before murmuring, “It was just an accident, (Y/N).”

“I let go of—”

“I would’ve been more upset having to bury my daughter,” he interrupted, and she fell silent, gaping at him. He searched her face and reached up, placing a hand on her cheek. “I understand why you kept this secret, but you should’ve come to me, (Y/N).” Shaking his head, he added, “You didn’t deserve to be buried under this for nineteen years.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her head and Bruce shook his head in response.

“No, I’m sorry.” When she met his eye, he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t know you were carrying this. Then and now.”

(Y/N) swallowed and rested back against the bed. “I send his widow money on the anniversary of his death. I slip it into the pension she’s given.” She let out a sigh. “It’s the only way I’ve found that I could sleep at night.”

Her eyes drifted to the window and Bruce placed a kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.” She nodded and before he left, he said, “And when you feel up for it, we’ll see about setting up a fund in his name.”

She wished it didn’t make her as emotional as it did, but silent tears dripped down her cheeks as the door closed, leaving her and her brothers alone. They gathered on her bed, leaning close to offer their support, and she was thankful for them doing so. And for the first time in nineteen years, when (Y/N) closed her eyes, she didn’t see Grady Richards’ face.

[the-atlas-sister]

Chapter Six

"So, you're from the past?" you asked Five. You two were walking along an empty road, pulling a red wagon.

"Yes," Five answered.

"How is that possible?" you questioned.

"Do you remember those kids, who had superpowers?" Fiver sighed.

"I mean I wasn't born when they were around, but, yes," you said.

"I'm one of them," Five said.

"And you can time travel?" you asked.

"As well as perform spacial jumps," Five added.

"Spacial whats?" you said, scrunching up your face.

Five smirked cockily before disappearing. You looked around, amazed by this boy's show of power. "Boo." You let out a yelp, spinning around to come face to face with a smirking Five.

"So, you can teleport!" you exclaimed, not noticing the close proximity to Five.

"I- yes," Five said.

"That's really cool," you said, grinning like a child.

"Thanks."

****

Your eyes snapped open and you let out a shaky breath as Luther stopped the car on the side of the road. After a lot of arguing, Five had finally agreed to let you go with him and Luther to execute their plan, as long as you stayed in the car.

Five unbuckled before looking around. "You know, I never enjoyed it," he sighed.

"What?" Luther asked.

"The killing," Five stated simply. "I mean, I was... I was good at my work and I... I took pride in it." He stopped to look at Luther. "But it never gave me pleasure." He sighed again. "I think it was all those years alone." You looked at him, feeling a bit hurt. Although you didn't remember any of you and Five's time together, you know you indeed were- together. He hadn't been alone. He had you. Didn't he? "Solitude can do funny things to the mind."

"Yeah, well, you were gone for such a long time," Luther said. "I only spent four years on the moon, but that was more than enough." You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the fact that Luther was relating time on the moon, to living in the apocalypse alone. "It's the being alone that breaks you." Luther and Five sat in silence.

"Do you think they'll buy it?" you asked, motioning to the fake briefcase.

"Well, all I do know is that they're desperate," Five stated. "It's like a cop losing his gun. If the Commission finds out, they'll be in deep shit. And well, not to mention the fact that they'll be stuck here until they get it back."

"Well, I should hold onto it," Luther said.

"Hm?" Five glanced at his brother questionably.

"In case they make a move on you," Luther continued.

"Wait," you said softly. The fact that Five could get hurt dawned on you. You might not have spent a long time with the time traveler, but you couldn't help but feel connected.

"Okay, Luther, but be careful," Five said, genuine worry in his eyes. "I mean, I've... I've lived a long life, but, you're still a young man. You got your whole life ahead of you." Luther looked at him, as if, well as if a 13-year-old boy was telling him he was the young man. "Don't waste it." You let out a laugh, before covering your mouth. Five looked at you as you help back more laughter. "I'm 58, remember?" he said, grabbing your free hand.

"Look," you said suddenly, pointing to a car appearing on the horizon.

"Here we go," Five said. "Stay inside the car, remember?" He looked at you. You nodded at Five kissed your hand softly before getting out of the car. Luther followed quickly before walking into the street.

You watched as the other car pulled up to the other side of the road. "If this all goes sideways," you heard Five say to Luther, making your stomach churn. "Do me a favor and tell Y/N, I'm sorry."

You bit your lip, staring at the raven-haired boy through the window as he began to approach the two people in masks who had exited the car.

You watched them talk, although you couldn't hear from inside the car. You watched as the two threw off their masks.

You noticed Five looks at the car then back to the two. You reached for the door handle urgently as you watched the woman pull out a gun and point it at Five.

Luther placed a hand on the door and shook his head at you.

The woman lowered the gun and approached a nearby telephone booth as Five approached the car again. He leaned on the back of the car as Luther stood next to him.

"What happens now?" you heard Luther ask.

"Now we wait," Five said. You looked at them through the back window.

Then, out of nowhere, a jolly tune was heard. You looked on the horizon, only to see an ice cream truck driving your way.

"What the heck?" you asked aloud.

"Is that her?" you heard Luther ask, although you doubted it. Then, a large grin appeared on your face as you noticed Klaus, waving at you from the driver's side of the truck.

"Klaus!" you exclaimed.

"What the hell is he doing here?" you heard Five say.

Suddenly, the two people pulled out their guns and shoot at Five and Luther. You hopped out of the car and grabbed Five's hand-

Five's POV

Five poked his head out from behind a frozen Luther. He glanced at your frozen figure, your face full of terror, and your hand in his. He gently pried his hand from yours before walking around Luther.

That's when he noticed her.

"Hello, Five," the Handler said, taking off her sunglasses. "You look good, all things considered."

"It's good to see you again," Five said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Feels like we met, just yesterday," the Handler said. "Course, you were a bit older then." She smiled. "Congratulations. On the age regression by the way. Very clever. Threw us all off the scent."

"Ah, well, I wish I could take the credit," Five stated. "I just miscalculated the time dilation projections, and-" He looked to the side before smiling sarcastically at the Handler. "Well, you know. Here I am."

"You realize your efforts are futile," the Handler said. "So why don't you tell me what you really want?" She clasped her hands behind her back.

"I want you to put a stop to it," Five said, mimicking the woman's actions.

"You realize what you're asking for is next to impossible, even for me," the Handler said. "What's meant to be, is meant to be. That's our raison d'etre. You of all people should know that, especially after what you did to your girlfriend over there." She nodded at you.

Five pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed it at the Handler, although she seemed unfazed. "Yeah? Well, how about survival as a raison?"

"I'll just be replaced," the Handler shrugged. "I'm but a... small cog in a machine. This fantasy you've been nurturing about summoning up your family to stop the apocalypse..." She took a few steps forward "Is just that, a fantasy. I must say though-" She took a few more steps. "We're all quite impressed with your initiative, your stick-to-intivenss, really quite... quite something." The Handler held her hands behind her back once more. "Which is why we want to offer you, a new position back at the Commission. In management."

Five chuckled breathlessly. "I'm sorry, what's that now?"

"Come back to work for us again. You know it's where you belong."

"Well, it didn't work out too well the last time," Five stated.

"But you wouldn't be in the correction division any longer," the Handler perswaded. "I'm talking about... the home office. You'd have the best health and pension and an end to this ceaseless time travel." Five blinked, thinking of what it would be like. "You're a distinguished professional in... schoolboy shorts." The Handler walked closer to Five. "We have the technology to reverse the process. I mean you... you can't be happy like this." The Handler lowered Five's gun.

"I'm not looking for happy," Five said his voice hardening.

"We're all looking for happy," the Handler said, stroking Five's cheek gently. "We can make that happen. We can make you... yourself again."

Five looked at Luther and... you. "What about my family?" he questioned.

"What about them?" the Handler asked.

"I want them to survive," Five demanded.

The Handler sighed, looking at Luther, then Klaus and Diego. "All of them?"

"Yes, all of them," Five said. "And Y/N."

"Well," she pulled out her sunglasses and put them on. "I'll see what I can do. As for Y/n... she is meant to die. You know this."

Five frowned but knew she was right. He knew Y/N had to die.

"Do we have a deal?" the Handler said.

"One thing," Five said before walking to Hazel and Cha-Cha's guns. He took out the amo before throwing it and the gun into the field.

He then walked past the Handler and to you. He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face before pressing his lips to yours. He pulled away and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. He quickly wrote something down and placed it into your hand.

The Handler sighed. "Wait," Five said, before approaching the bullet that hung midair in the sky. He grabbed it and positioned it away from Luther. Then he grabbed the Handler's hand and disappeared.

Y/N POV

You let out a scream and ducked as the bullets hit the car.

You watched as the ice cream truck hit Hazel and Cha-Cha's car, tottling it completely.

"Five?" Luther said, making you look up.

"Five?" you said, noticing the fact that Five was gone. "Five!" You looked around, balling your fists. Then you felt something crunch.

You heard people yelling but you ignored it. You leaned on the car, opening your hand to see a folded piece of paper in your hand.

"Y/N! Get in the car!" you heard Luther yell, making you look up before you could read the note. You quickly got in the car, Luther, Klaus, and Diego joining you.

You noticed Klaus give Hazel the middle finger, making you laugh.

You then looked at the note once more. You opened it carefully before reading it to yourself.

Y/N,

I have gone to work with the Commission again. I'm sorry. I love you and I will miss you dearly. And, there is something I haven't told you. The Handler wasn't the one to kill you. I was.

-Five

Find the rest of the chapters here: https://mooskey.tumblr.com/post/662542471939735552/remember-me-five-hargreeves-x-reader

[parkjimin1010smuts]

Breaking Point || Kth

Summary: Taehyung reveals just how he deals with his stress to his best friend y/n and late one night y/n reaches her breaking point and decides to put Taehyungs tactic to the test, but there is a slight problem she has no one to help her out, or does she?

Warnings: daddy kink, overstimulation, thigh riding, virgin reader, multiple orgasms, fingerings, unprotected sex (yalls stay safe out there though this is just a fanfic), dom tae, sub reader, pwp. Enjoy!!

An elbow nudging into the side of your ribcage pulled you back into the conscious realm. A slight gasp leaves your mouth as you jerked your head back up. Now who the hell thought it was the perfect moment to need your attention.

You gathered your surroundings haphazardly, a subtle frown settling upon your face as you realized just who it was, Kim Taehyung. “Morning princess, I almost thought you’d never wake up,” his velvety voice mocked.

Turning towards Taehyung, the frown on your face only deepened, a small sound of annoyance escaping you. With your eyes now in his direction you unintendedly began to check him out. The cluster of blonde hair that was normally nestled peacefully was a disheveled mess exposing his forehead. His plump cheeks were pushed up due to the goofy grin he had plastered on his face nearly concealing his chocolate brown eyes that were now mere crescent moons. I had to admit he had a very attractive smile, reminiscent of a box.

His body was clad in a pair of black slacks that clung beautifully against his muscular thighs leaving very little to the imagination. His caramel chest peeked at me from the confines of the loose summer shirt he wore. I was brought back to reality when the view of his chest was suddenly obscured by the change in his position as he was now bent over packing his things. Releasing I heavy sigh I began to mirror his actions before throwing my bag over my shoulder and making a beeline straight to the double doors. In true Taehyung fashion he was right on my tail, trailing me like the faithful guard dog he pretends to be.

You and Taehyung  have been best friends now for over 15 years, you both met in the early years of preschool and by the grace of the angels above you have not been separated ever since. Through thick and thin, trials and tribulations, Taehyung has been there every step of the way. Everything you have experienced so has he, that’s how close you two are and, in all honesty, you wouldn’t have it any other way with any other person. 

This closeness however was more often than not met with questioning glances and needless two cent comments, most of them romance related. But Taehyung was always so quick to shut them down with a little more fervor and enthusiasm than you would deem necessary.  It was clear to you that Taehyung simply had no interest in you romantically, and you understood. Who cared if you had a tini, tiny crush on him. Not you that’s for sure.

But I mean it was inevitable, the man who was now glued to you side in a steady march that matched your own was a literal god send. He was loyal, attractive and physically in shape. What more was there to ask for.

“What’s up with you lately, every time I see you you’re either lethargic or in one hell of a mood.” My best friend voiced before abruptly coming to a halt in front of his black pick up.

“Nothing I’ve just been up studying for finals and the stress Is finally getting to me I guess,” you say through clenched teeth. You really do feel like you're reaching your breaking point and seeing how well put together Taehyung just riles you up even further. Its really not fair, we are in the same course, the same exams, the same workloads and yet there he is basking in his ethereal beauty, fair skin with no signs of exertion. While you on the other hand are left to wallow in the deep dark bags that have taken residence beneath your forever dropping eyes. Don’t even get me started on the acne that picks the absolutely best moments to choose your face as their next canvas, please note the sarcasm.

Allowing your curiosity to surface you voice the question that has been eating at you for quite some time now, “How do you do it?” Taehyung shots a quick glance your way before reverting his attention back to the bustling road before us but the slight dip of his eyebrows was enough for you to know he wants you to elaborate.

With a deep breath you laid everything that had been forming a cluster in your mind out on the table for Taehyung to digest. When you was through with your mini rant session an eerie silence danced between you two for a good minute before Taehyung finally released a hearty chuckle. With his head thrown back and eyes closed from the intensity of his smile he was unable to see the way your face twisted in confusion.

“You think I’m ethereal?” Of course, that was the only thing his pea sized brain was able to pick. Suppressing all the swear words you had an indescribable urge to throw his way you simply rolled your eyes while sinking further into the leather car seat.

“I release my stress through other things.” He finally said after calming himself.

“Other things,” you said with a raise of my eyebrow. 

“Yeah, other things, or more specifically sex.” your eyes grow tenfold as you choke on your saliva. Sex?! Should this really have been a surprise to you, I mean he’s young healthy and oh just look at him.

However it still does nothing to subside the slight blush you feel creeping up your neck as you avert your eyes to your lap. While he was indeed your best friend and things not discussed between the two of you were few and far between, one thing he never seemed to ask you about was your sex life. Not that there was much to ask about in the first place. You were a virgin, not entirely from lack of trying but still a virgin none the less.

“Oh,” that was the only logical response your mind could muster given the circumstances.

“Oh,” Taehyung retorted as he maneuvered the car to rest in his driveway. Choosing to remain silent you purse your lips into a thin line, you refuse to falter, even when he turns his body to allow his eyes to have unlimited access to scrutinize you with their chocolate depths. The car suddenly feels so hot or maybe that’s just your face which is now beet red.

“What’s with your reaction y/n,” Taehyung presses fully failing to read the room, or car in this situation.

You have never had any problems confiding in Taehyung but for some reason you feel embarrassed to mention that you're still in fact a 23 year old virgin, especially after he just shared details of his very thriving sex life.

The silence drags on for a good three minutes and knowing your best friend you know there is no way he will ever give in and so you cave. “I’m a virgin, okay. There, are you happy now,” you hastily say with an exasperated sigh. Choosing to save yourself from the snarky remarks you know are about to flow like a river from your best friend you hurriedly make your way out of the confines of his car. You mentally curse the universe as you see we are in fact parked outside his apartment complex and any thoughts you had of fleeing the scene are disintegrated in mere seconds. As if adding fuel to the flame the sound of the car door sounds as Taehyung makes his way out of his car and round to my side.

“Please save it, I’m really not in the mood for your bullshit right now,” you cut him off before he can even part his lips. “Hey what’s wrong with you. Did you seriously think I would judge you just because you chose to keep it locked up.” you simply avert your gaze as his words settled in your head.

“Hey look at me, your virginity is nothing to be ashamed of okay, I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, but you know me better than that. You know I would never shame you for anything so insignificant.” The tone of his voice was calm and collected and shame suddenly washed over you from the way you had jumped the gun. You never realised how your reaction could have been perceived, Taehyung was always so understanding and here you were assuming only the worst of him.

Deciding not to push the conversation any further you simply lowered your head in embarrassment before heaving a sigh. You've been doing that a lot lately. Being the attentive best friend that he is Taehyung was quick to pick up on my signals and thankfully refrained from pushing the topic any further. A silence soon settled between us before Taehyung laced his fingers around your own before leading you back to his car.

“I’m gonna take you home and you just get some rest okay,” The soft nature of his voice just made you feel worse while simultaneously lifting your mood.

~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•

Yet again a frown had found its way onto your face as you stared at the clock that ticked away on your bedside table. It was just past 2am and yet the lights in your room were still on casting shadows over the immense paperwork clustered all over your bedsheets. Yet another sleepless night with your only companion being a cup of coffee made with  three sugars and a gallon of stress.

Grabbing the cup of steaming goodness you throw your head back as you allow the bitter taste to maneuverer its way into your body with hopes of getting your systems back on high alert. You put down the coffee with a soft clang so it’s now adjacent to the ticking demon that serves as a constant reminder of how shit you have it right now.

Fighting the urge to scream you plunge face first into your numerous worksheets. This was it, you had finally reached your breaking point, the tears that stung the corners of your eyes served as confirmation.

Just as you were about to succumb to the severity of it all and just allow yourself to scream and cry to your hearts content a certain blonde haired box smiled adorning goof crossed your mind. Or more specifically a certain conversation shared between the two of you.

Sex.

You felt tingly sensations dance through your veins as the solution to all your problems was now just in front of you. However this feeling of euphoria was only short lived as not long after you realised there wasn’t a single person you could ask for help. Well there was that one guy you met during spring break, but your relationship came to a rocky end as he bumped heads with Taehyung over your relationship with him. He had accused you of slutting around with Taehyung and the man in question did not take lightly to his words. Lets just say his name is most definitely off the table, and so is my relief plan seeing as he is your only ex. Pathetic I know, no need to remind me.

You run your fingers across your laptop giving it a contemplative tap, while trying your hardest to push the most obvious solution to your problem to the back of your head. There was no way you could call him. Seriously, there was no plausible or conceivable scenario in which you went to your best friend, pleading for him to lend you his body to get off. You brought your hands to your face, a shriek of embarrassment escaping you at the mere idea.

This was the guy who had seen you at your worst, stumbling into your apartment with puke all over yourself when you were going through your hard liquor phase freshman year of college. There's no way he'd be interested in having sex with the girl he spent many nights holding her hair back as she hurled into her toilet.

No.

You couldn’t ask Taehyung to partake in such an activity with you. Absolutely not.

No way.

~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡

The creaking of your apartment door sent you five feet into the air as the reality of the situation sinfully settled in your brain and the nerves were finally kicking in.

“Taehyung,” you whirled around to face him as his gaze zeroed in as you  shifted your body from one foot to the other, a tendency you displayed whenever nervous. You couldn't fight down the heat that was creeping up your neck as he stepped into your apartment, eyeing you cautiously as he slipped off his shoes.

“Hey is anything wrong, you sounded really anxious on the phone.”

“What, me, I’m perfectly fine!” You responded forcibly, the enthusiasm in your voice misplaced, given the nature of the conversation.

Taehyung simply nodded back at you, not noticing the awkward timber of your words or otherwise not minding. "Well if nothings wrong why'd you call me over to your place at 2am?" He inquired, like the wonderfully kind best friend he was. You pressed your lips together.

"About that, do you remember how you said you use sex as an outlet for your stress in order to maintain a level head, well would you mind having sex with me as I’m a pathetic excuse of a human who has no one else to turn to for my sexual needs." Oh god, there was no way you could ask that. Taehyung was your best friend, and that would be too unbearably awkward. What the hell were you thinking?

“Well i wanted to watch the conjuring 3 again and I remembered that you hadn’t watched it yet so what better time than now?” You swallowed uneasily, a gesture that unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed by your best friend. Your eyes nearly fell out of your head as the man of the hour suddenly took a step towards you, his eyes unmoving on your face.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" His tone was suddenly low and severe, eyes running all over your burning face as he searched for any physical ailment. There was something off about you, he realized. He wasn't sure what it was, but he could make out how your form was trembling, your eyes wide in panic.

“Do you want to have sex with me.” You reflexively shut your eyes as you allowed the weight if your words to hang heavy between the two of you it's only competitor being the unbearable silence that lingered in the air not long after. You could hear every inhale and exhale of the tall man that stood opposite you. Every passing second of silence made you regret your words and just as you were about to play it all of as a joke and retract your prior request a pair of soft lips pressed gently against your own stopping you right in your tracks.

Just as suddenly as it happened it came to an end. You could feel something stirring in your chest , the feeling of his lips on yours lingered, radiating heat like an old burn. You turned towards him and the look in his eyes nearly knocked the breath out of you, there was a dark sheen to them, one you had never seen. It was intimidating and attractive all the same, the fire in your belly igniting like never before. Before you could even think to stop yourself, you grabbed the collars of his shirt and pulled him down to you before taking his lips with your own.

In no time at all the kiss got heated as tongue and teeth were thrown into the mix. You feel his tongue explore the darkest depths of your  mouth as you fight back the need for air. His tongue reluctantly leaves your mouth all before licking a stripe across my bottom lip before his teeth bite down on it, hard but not enough to draw blood. You let out a whimper as his teeth finally released your lip.

There was a shift in the room, Taehyung could sense it. He knew exactly what you wanted and fuck if he didn't want the same thing. His entire body was on edge, he could hear every heavy exhale you pushed past your parted lips. "You're a virgin." The whine that came from you in response was low. "I don't want this to be something you regret in the morning.  I can't promise I'll be gentle." He licked his lips.

"Please, I just… just this once," Your words were soft and pleading, the sound of your thighs pressing together in search of relief filling Taehyungs ears. "I need you." He could see your hard nipples pressing against the thin material of your white shirt. They were distracting him, and thoughts of his hands cupping your breasts over your shirts, rubbing your cloth-covered nipple between his fingers, corrupted his mind. How easy it could've been for him to cave right then and there.

Your voice was small and dripping in submission. He felt like he was suffocating in the small space you called your living room. Fuck. He felt himself stiffen in his shorts. You were breathing heavily now, hands trembling as you fought the urge to throw yourself against Taehyung and bury your face into his neck. The mere thought of his skin against yours caused your whole body to shudder in want. When did you become like this. Your thoughts and actions almost made you seem unrecognisable but with the heat of the moment you couldn’t careless. You wanted this and how you wished Taehyung would stop being the gentleman he was and just fuck you already.

Taehyung was already heading towards you as he heeded his last warning, "Do you understand? I need to hear your answer."

“Oh god Taehyung just fuck me already!”  you hurriedly said followed by a deep exhale.

Without wasting another second Taehyung plopped himself onto your mustard couch before pulling you onto him. The sudden movement caused you to straddle one of his meaty thighs which had you quivering as your pussy throbbed from the sudden stimulation.  When you finally got comfortable you pulled the shirt over your head quickly, hands coming to fondle your own breasts, desperate for any skin contact.

You let out a cry as Taehyungs palms found the skin of your hips, urging you to grind against his thigh. You whined rocking back against his thigh. “Mm please Tae, I need your cock,” your own words surprised you.

"Hmm? You seem to be doing just fine without me, though." He cocked his head at you, hand coming up to smack the side of your thigh. A sharp moan fell from you, fingers tugging at your nipple as your hips sped up. Then, to your sweet relief, Taehyungs mouth found one of your breasts, taking no hesitation in pulling the hard bud into his mouth. You threw an arm over his shoulder, fingers floundering as they attempted to find anchorage on his sweat-soaked skin. Your other hand reached out to touch his abdomen, preening as his muscles flexed beneath your fingers.

He pulled away from your breast with a loud pop sound. Smirking up at you as your eyes began to flutter shut, he watched in amusement as your orgasm caught up with you quickly, a result of your heightened sensitivity and inexperience. He would have to teach you later how to refrain from Cumming so quickly.

"Fuck, oh god Taehyung" You cried into his shoulder, body jerking as you came unravelled. Taehyung couldn't help but let out a whine of his own, palming over his crotch as he watched you ride out your orgasm. Although he would never admit it the way his name fell from your lips like honey had his cock twitching in his now too tight jeans. " Taehyung, please." You panted once you had caught your breath, bringing your face up to his. “Fuck me" you managed to pant out without breaking eye contact. Thus lead to Taehyung  unconsciously letting out a groan.

"Is that what my pretty girl wants? Want daddy to fill you up, sweetheart?" The intimate pet name escaping him before he could think otherwise. It should have been no surprise to you that Taehyung had a daddy kink. Nonetheless you could feel a new wave of wetness staining his jeans from the pet name, from daddy, right down to the way his thigh was still flexing underneath your heat. It was all too much, you could feel your senses going into over drive.

"Yes daddy, fuck. Fuck me deep and hard until I'm stuffed with your cum.” You breathed into his neck. Taehyung was going to fucking explode. Every damn word you spoke went straight to his groin, his painfully hard cock straining against his Jean’s fabric. And with that in mind, he flipped you over, pushing your legs up into your chest so that he could see your clenched cunt fully exposed for him.

“You don't have any idea what you fucking do to me, do you? I'm so fucking hard for you, and I haven't even felt that lovely pussy of yours." He growled, his fingers coming down to circle your entrance. You didn't even have time to contemplate a response before his fingers rolled over your sensitive bud. His fingers felt so different to yours – your jaw slack as a silent sob fell out, his light but quick motions sending your back arching. Wrapping a hand against his wrist, you groaned, the feeling nearly overwhelming but still too good to pull him away.

Taehyung cursed as your hand came down to rub against the his cock still retrained by his jeans, the small action just gentle enough to have his hips jerking into you. He felt painfully hard and he feared if you didn’t stop he would bust a load right in his pants. His skilful hands were soon lost to his belt as he hurriedly worked to get rid of the only clothing left separating your bodies. "Gonna make a mess of this wet little pussy, okay? Let me know if you want me to stop." Were Taehyungs final words as he pressed himself inside you, hand reaching over to take yours into his.

A cry left you, eyebrows furrowing together as your head fell back, leaving Taehyung breathing heavily through his nose, jaw tense as he fought back a growl. The urge to sink his teeth into your sweat glistened neck was too much to resist and so he bent down and began showering hickeys over the canvas that was your neck.

The stretch stung a bit but he was able to easily slide into you thanks to your prior orgasm and the help of his fingers. You felt full and content, it was such an overwhelming feeling that when he bottomed out and his groin came in contact with your clit you came for the second time.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head you let out a loud moan that had you hiding your face in embarrassment. You could feel the hot breath of Taehyung as he chuckled from his position nestled between your breasts. After deciding you had had enough time to get accustomed to his size Taehyung pulled out almost completely before sliding back into you. You let out a whine as he bottomed out inside you, watching as his expression changed into a lewd one with your walls clamping around his fat cock. "How's that, baby?" You could only moan in response, nails digging into his back as he began to rock himself into you, entirely obsessed with the way your body was readjusting itself as he moved inside you. It was like your body knew exactly what to do, despite the sensation being otherwise strange.

Your fingers found your clit immediately, knowing that this was exactly how you wanted to cum, dripping down the couch and stretched out around  Taehyungs cock. "So big. Feels so good." You mumbled, your hair cascading around you as his pace quickened, fucking you hard and deep.

You let out an incoherent whimper, shuddering as Taehyungs thrusts into you deepened, spurred on by the way you continously moaned his name submissively. Your thighs felt wet and slick, the combined mixture of both yours and Taehyungs arousal dripping down onto them. You felt filthy and dirty and you were loving every second of it.

You could feel all your stress diminishing right before your eyes with every thrust of his hips. You felt elated, almost as though you were in another dimension, oh how you didn’t want this moment to come to an end. "My pretty little girl. You're making an absolute mess on my dick, isn't that right?"

"Yes, Daddy." You sobbed, body more than ready to succumb to your third orgasm of the night. "Such a good girl." He praised, a hand coming up to squeeze one of your supple tits. Your fingers found your abused clit once more. You circled around it liberally, the familiar euphoric feeling creeping up on you once more. "My sweet little girl. My precious girl." He cooed into your mouth, earning him an appreciative moan.

He was so close, fuck. “Cum in me daddy, I want you to come in me,” you whimpered desperately all in hopes of finally pushing him over the edge. And it seemed to have done the trick because with a final thrust he nestled himself deep within your warmth, a string of groans and curses tumbling out his mouth as he emptied his load into you. His release was the final push you needed to reach your most intense orgasm of the night. You shamelessly screamed as your back arched off the sofa and your body writhed in overstimulation.

"Fuck, fuck. I love you, holy shit, I love you." He peppered your face with kisses, breath shaky. Whether he let that slip due to the heat of the moment or whether those were his genuine feelings he had kept bottled up within him much like you, you chose to just revel in the moment stress free. "I love you more." You sighed adoringly, revelling in such an intimate gesture from him.

Thank you so much for reading 💜

[darlingmulti]

Yes, Chef (Chef!Seokjin x Waitress! Y/N)

Description-

You work as a waitress in a crummy restaurant in the middle of hick-ville. One day, a handsome new chef comes in and changes the scenery. Chef Jin is hot and talented and you immediately fall head over heels for him. Despite his good looks, the two of you don't get along. There is never a moment where the two of you don't fight. One night after you clock out, your grabbed, and end up in the back room... pressed against Jin's hot body? Will your fantasy finally become reality?

Pairing- Chef!Seokjin X Waitress!Y/N

Rating- 18+

Word count- 10.3k

Genre- smut, angst, slice of life, romance, fluff, enemies to lovers

Warnings- choking, degradation, teasing, exhibitionism, voyeurism, use of force, fingering, heavy clit play, nipple play, overstimulation, begging, marking, scratching, biting, masturbation, squirting, praise, spanking, groping, tummy bulge, swearing, hate sex

Playlist-

Grind me Down (Jawster Remix) by Jawster, Liliana Wilde

Flesh by Simon Curtis

Eager by AK diorr., BM

Go Fuck yourself by Two Feet

Piano by Max Changmin

Note-

Shoutout to my bestie @evie3511 for beta reading and helping with the summary!

Teaser-

“You were very bad today…” he whispered softly, and as he did his teeth caught hold of the tip of your ear, causing you to gasp and jerk your head away.

“I-I’m sorry?” you whimpered.

“You just keep fighting with me.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion you couldn’t understand.

“You keep fighting with me,” You replied, chewing your bottom lip. This position wasn’t one you expected to be in with Jin ever, especially after tonight, but here you were, standing caged in his arms against his strong chest.

He dropped his head on your shoulder, and his warm breath tickled your neck, causing goosebumps to rise up along your skin, “I want you so bad,” He whispered against you, placing a kiss against your neck.

Before you could think you were replying, “I want you too,” the words spilled out much too naturally. You felt anticipation shoot through you as he chuckled against your neck, beginning to litter kisses along your hot skin.

You leaned tiredly against the cooler in the kitchen at work, eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled aimlessly through your instagram feed. Work had been an absolute nightmare today, though slow there were several tiny rushes throughout the day, and just when you thought you could leave one of the servers called in.

The managers had begged you to stay, citing how you were the best server, and they couldn’t possibly do it without you. After agreeing now all you could do was regret it, even if you might make some extra money it just wasn’t really worth it to you with how tired you were… not to mention dealing with people… ew.

“Y/N!!!” Your close friend, Jessie, could be heard squealing from across the kitchen excitedly, running over and grabbing your arm, “Did you hear the news??”

“What news?” You asked curiously, looking up lazily from your phone and raising your eyebrows.

“There’s a new cook!! He’s upstairs right now apparently!” She exclaimed, eyes shining brightly at the prospect of fresh meat. This was a restaurant after all, the majority of employees were female, any man was sized up by all of the girls as soon as he crossed the threshold. You tried your best not to do that, having given up on the prospect of meeting any good guys here. No matter what there was always a prettier server, or the guy had some fatal flaw, sometimes he didn’t even stay for more than a couple weeks.

“Oh wow,” you said, unenthused, your eyes trailing back to your phone screen, thumb poised to resume scrolling.

“I’ve heard he’s suuuuper hot, and- get this, he’s foreign!” She squealed excitedly, jumping up and down like a child.

“Jessie, come on. Why would a foreigner want to come work here? Who told you he was hot??” You asked, looking back up to indulge your dramatic friend.

“I don't know why, but he’s definitely foreign.. Well he apparently lived in Korea for a couple years.” she said thoughtfully, and then looked back to you to answer the next question, “He was here a couple days ago to get shown around, Elaina told me all about him. I guess she got to talk with him a little bit, she said he’s hot.”

Elaina was the restaurant's biggest slut, always finding new guys to screw. If it didn’t work out with one it wasn’t a problem, there was always another one. It was no surprise she had gotten to talking with the new guy, she would probably hop on his dick as soon as he walked through the d-

Your brain seemed to malfunction as you heard the kitchen door opening and looked up to see one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen in your entire life walk into the kitchen.

The first thing you noticed was how tall he was, the second was his insane body proportions. His shoulders were broad and strong, while his waist was kind of small and tapered. His eyes were chocolatey brown, wide and shining, they had a mischievous glint in them. His skin was incredibly clear and a gorgeous golden brown that you had never seen on any of the boys in this nasty town. It was about ninety-nine percent hick country, so seeing a man like this in person was a dream come true.

His hair was pure black and shining, but he quickly covered it with a chef's hat. He was wearing the regular chefs outfit, black jeans and a loose fitting black chefs coat, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing firm and strong forearms that flexed as he followed one of the other cooks behind the line. He didn’t look nervous in the slightest, in fact he exuded confidence.

“Hey!” Jessie whispered and elbowed you rather hard in the ribs, bringing you back to reality and sending your phone flying out of your hands and onto the floor.

“Seriously!” you exclaimed, trying to act natural as you walked a couple feet to get your phone, glaring at Jessie who was watching you with knowing eyes.

“You were staring so hard dude, your mouth was wide open too!” She giggled and you glanced back at the man who had just come in, grateful he hadn’t seemed to notice you and Jessie just yet.

You shoved her irritably, “Shut up!” you muttered. You turned briskly to walk out of the kitchen, wanting to get away from her teasing and from the handsome man. Your face was getting hot the more you replayed seeing him.

He had plump lips, high cheekbones, a defined nose bridge, strong eyebrows, he was literally perfect.

“You look like you just saw a ghost,” one of your coworkers said as you grabbed a cup absently, wanting to drink some water.

“Oh?” you said absently, acting confused by the statement. You scanned the restaurant. There was only one table in the whole place right now, the rest of the crew would be here any moment, and you were looking at a hopefully busy Saturday evening.

You finished filling your cup and began sipping from it thoughtfully, your mind still on that perfect man. What was his name? What was he like? What did he look like under those loose chefs clothes?

“Excuse me,” you heard a soft, unfamiliar voice say behind you.

You looked up and behind you and could barely contain your shock. That perfect man was inches away from you, locking eyes with you. You wanted to look into them forever, but you thankfully had the sense to pull your eyes away, “Ah, sorry.” You apologized quickly, stepping to the side to let him get to the water gun.

“It’s alright, I’m Jin,” he introduced, holding out his large and gorgeous hand to shake. His fingers were long and slender, and his veins stuck out slightly on the backs of his hands, his nails were trimmed and clean too.

You stared at his hand for one second too long, causing him to raise an eyebrow but you raised your comparatively small hand to shake his, watching it disappear within his warm hand.

Wow… his skin was so soft. Was this guy really a cook? His forearms were completely unmarred, no burns whatsoever.

“I-I’m Y/N.” You introduced. Your voice came out squeaky and anxious sounding- fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you cursed internally. He probably thought you were a baby talking that way.

“Nice to meet you… That’s a pretty name.” He complimented and smiled at you sweetly, making your heart rate pick up. This man was dazzling! You couldn’t help but think it should be illegal to look this good.

“Thanks!” you said, sounding weird even in your own ears, you should get away before you embarrass yourself further, but he was standing right here looking at you, it would be a waste to walk away now.

“Is Jin short for something?” you asked, feeling dumb as the words left your lips.

“My full name is Kim Seokjin, well it’s Seokjin Kim here.” he corrected, “But I go by Jin since it’s easier for everyone,” he chuckled softly at your dumbfounded expression.

“O-oh, that’s cool.” you stuttered out, “So… that’s korean?” you questioned. That’s right, you encouraged yourself, keep the ball rolling.

He nodded affirmatively, “I was born there.” he stated.

“Oh that’s cool! Why are you all the way over here, then?” you asked.

“My parents have been out here a couple years now, they’re getting older, figured I should come live around here and take care of them. I saw an ad online for a sous chef position so I figured I would apply.”

“Well… that’s nice of you.. I’m uh- glad you’re here.” you said, and smiled what you hoped was a nice smile, and not too awkward.

He snickered and shook his head, “Well thanks!” he said and started to walk back to the kitchen. You were about to follow him when you heard an annoying sing-song voice behind you.

“Hello~~~!! You must be Jin!!”

‘There goes Elaina,’ you thought as her sickly sweet smelling perfume hit your nose as she walked past you. She went up and tapped the large man's shoulder, grinning as she confidently introduced herself.

You sighed and walked away to the counter in the middle of the restaurant, leaning your head dejectedly on your arm. You would give anything to have more time to talk with him… but with all the other girls it would probably be impossible. He certainly wouldn’t pay you much attention once he got a look at all the other damsels that worked here… Even with your lack of hope though, your eyes travelled to your hand where you could still feel the warmth of his wrapped around yours. It couldn’t hurt to dream…

~~~~

The dinner rush was in full swing, you were juggling six tables, the kitchen was backed up with orders, and the restaurant was packed with people, conversations echoing off the walls as the printer at the bar went off almost nonstop. The bartender was cranking out drinks for the servers like crazy.

“Excuse me ma’am, how much longer on my order!” One of your particularly annoying tables called, snapping her fingers at you as you were rushing by with dirty plates to take to the back.

“Not much longer, miss.” you replied hastily and offered an apologetic smile.

“Can you check? Did you even put it in?”

“Of course I can! So sorry, miss!” you said and smiled before turning away, your expression dropping immediately. What did she think you were doing carrying all these dirty plates? Of course you would check if you were going in the kitchen, that was literally just common sense.

You came back into the kitchen, briskly kicking the door open and setting the plates down before striding down to the ticket line where the expo was plating whatever food he could and shouting at the cooks for more fries.

Jin was sauteeing something and the other two cooks were hard at work on the grill, fryers, and salad station. Jin’s expertise was obvious, even in a new environment he was shining.

“Hey how long on this ticket,” you muttered to the expo. You wished you could stare at Jin all night long, but you had customers to please, and besides you had already given up on your fantasies about him. The most your relationship would amount to would be casual friendship, if even that.

Yours was actually second in the line and as the expo looked it over, he realized only one thing was missing and it was actually on Jin’s side.

“Hey Jin, do you have the tostadas coming?” He called.

“Tostadas?” Jin called back, looking up in confusion at the expo, his brow was furrowed and sweat was dripping down his temples. Fuck. How could you focus on anything with him being THAT fine. Some of the other servers had come in to pine over the line and agonize over how hot the new chef was.

Yet even his hotness couldn’t distract as he said, “I don’t have a ticket for that.” and turned around flippantly.

“What do you mean?” The expo called, grabbing the ticket and pushing it across the shelf for Jin, who turned around to take it, looking it over intently.

“I made that already.” he argued, and pushed the ticket back at the expo, again turning away to continue his sautee job. You could feel your blood beginning to boil, and there was the fatal flaw. He might be a good cook, but he had a shitty attitude.

“Well we don’t have it!” You interrupted loudly, “I need tostadas ASAP!”

“Are you the expo?” He asked calmly, cocking an eyebrow at you. Ugh, he was so hot even being as big of a dick as he was being.

‘Don’t get sidetracked, you have a job to do,’ you thought to yourself.

“No, but who cares? Make me my tostadas!”

Jin rolled his eyes and pointedly turned away as the expo finished the first order and called out tiredly, “Jin can you please make me an order for tostadas ASAP?”

“Of course I can,” he said and glared at you before turning back around to continue.

“Glad to know we have another asshole cook on the team!” You called childishly, making the other waitresses gasp. You went back out on the floor without a care to go deal with the rest of your tables, and reassure your woman that her food was in fact coming up. This wasn’t going to be fun.

~~~~

The night had finally slowed to a stop and you were getting ready to leave for the evening, printing your reports and organizing all of your checks at a table. As you were sitting you heard a voice coming from around the wall between the booth and the server station, and paused at the sound of your name.

“She’s always like that, you’re not an asshole.” Elaina was saying, her voice that annoying, honey sweet tone she took with men she was trying to impress.

“I won’t let any servers walk all over me,” Jin was heard saying, sounding nonchalant.

“Oh of course not!! You shouldn’t!! She’s a bitch because she’s jealous. She has always been the le-”

“Sorry, but I’m not here to gossip or talk crap. Thank you for the encouragement though,” Jin could be heard cutting her off, before you heard the door to the kitchen creak open as he walked away from her. You sighed and rolled your eyes, at least Elaina’s plan to use you as a tool to get with him didn’t work.

You were certainly bitchy earlier, that you would admit, but he didn’t help the situation either acting the way he did. You finished doing your report and slid out of the booth tiredly, it didn’t matter, tomorrow was another day…

~~~~

Situations like the one that night seemed to happen all too frequently between you and Jin despite your best efforts. You really didn’t want to fight with him, he was unbearably attractive, smart, a good cook, and his voice was like silk, yet every night seemed to be a new battle.

First it was french fries taking too long, next it was the steak being overcooked, and the next it was an item rang in wrong, it was all trivial but it just seemed to add up. Everyday you saw him it became more and more tense between you two, you hated it, because despite all of that you were crushing on him. Not only was he hot, but he could be incredibly sweet at times. Plus he was so cute, and his jokes were hilarious. He never told them to you, but every time you heard them you couldn’t help but giggle at the stupidity of them.

Your work day was starting off shitty, as was normal. Jin hadn’t said hello to you when you came in, two servers called off, and the restaurant was in shambles when you arrived. Not to mention it was eighty-five degrees outside, you hadn’t slept well, and you had had a large fight with your parents before leaving for work.

It was a dumb fight,just more nagging from them about your life. It seemed like nothing you did was good enough. You were trying your best... At times you just felt like you were fighting an uphill battle. Today you had no energy to fight with Jin, and you certainly weren’t prepared for the dinner rush.

It was the wing bar that night. The crowd came in a tidal wave of people, more than you or any of your coworkers had expected or been prepared for and within the first hour you were so swamped you didn’t know what to do. You simply couldn’t keep up with everything that was happening.

Food, checks, orders, tables, greeting, running, pre-bussing, it was all too much for you, especially with the heat and the tiredness. Food was coming out at a decent rate thankfully, but one table just simply could not be satisfied.

You were feeling worse and worse as the time ticked by, and had no fight left in you to deal with difficult entitled customers, but duty called.

“Ma’am, ma’am come here!” You heard and couldn’t help but sigh at the familiar obnoxious voice. You knew this table would be a problem when they had first complained about the bugs outside, and then returned a drink because it ‘definitely wasn’t made right’, what could it possibly be now?

You turned around hesitantly and put on your best invested, and apologetic smile, their food had been dropped by the runner probably a couple minutes ago now, all mostly wings.

“What can I do for you?” You asked, faking sweetness while inside you were cursing at this nasty woman and her teenagers.

“I don’t know what kind of restaurant this is, but the food and the service here is just unacceptable.”

“I’m… sorry?” You said, unable to hide how taken aback you were. What was she even talking about?

“First of all, this is cold!” she pushed her ribs away in disgust, “These wings are cold, everything is COLD! Second, this place is filthy and obviously not being run properly. Look at you! You can’t seem to get it together for the life of you, and you should take something for all that sweating you’re doing. This has been horrendous!!” She exclaimed again and leaned back with a huff, arms crossing over her chest.

You weren’t sure what to say. Usually, you would offer to have the food remade but it didn’t feel worth it to you. You could feel your eyes growing hot and your hands were balling up, “I’m so sorry. I’ll go get my manager.” You said and walked away briskly, even as she shouted for you to come back. A few of your other tables looked at you sympathetically as you went inside and beelined to the kitchen, feeling frustration as your tears spilled over freely as soon as the door opened.

“M-Miles!” You stuttered out meekly at your manager who was currently helping expo, he immediately looked up hearing your weak voice, eyes widening.

“Y/n, what happened?”

“M-my table is r-really upset right now and I- I think you should go talk to them,” you said, barely managing to get out your words as you felt tiny sobs going through you. You were so tired of everything right now. It was one thing to have a table yell about food, but to also insult you in front of your face was painful and humiliating.

“About what? Which table?” he prodded, rubbing your arm in an attempt to comfort you.

“Table eighty three,” you sniffled, “She said that, that the food was cold and that I was terrible and yeah… just please go out there.”

“Okay, okay, just take a breather, drink some water.” He said and quickly stepped out to go and talk with the furious table.

You groaned and wiped at your face, feeling your embarrassment only growing as Jin came from behind the line with a water bottle, “Come here,” he ordered and placed a hand on the small of your back while handing you the water bottle and leading you to the walk in cooler.

You didn’t even have enough sense to question why he was being nice to you, your head was pounding and you were overly aware of how hot and wet you were. Not to mention you were pretty much sobbing right now, despite your best efforts to hold it together.

“Drink the water,” He said calmly as he opened the cooler and led you inside, the feeling of cold air against your body was an intense relief, it helped you physically, but you were still reeling over everything. Even now you felt like you needed to run and take care of all of the tables you weren’t at right now. The rush was close to done but it was still upon you.

You did as you were told though, breaking the seal and sipping from it. As soon as the cool liquid touched your lips you realized how thirsty you were and drank from it messily, closing your eyes and leaning your head back, hearing the bottle crinkle up as you took in every last drop of it before your hand fell to your side. You used your free hand to wipe at your face, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.

“Better?” Jin asked, leaning against one of the shelves with an almost amused expression.

You had forgotten he was standing there watching you and your eyes flitted away from his face just as soon as they had gone there. You nodded quietly, chewing your lip, trying to calm your racing heart. It was amazing what the cold and water could do for you, you thought.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he chastised, moving closer and rather suddenly reaching out and cupping your cheek with the palm of his hand. You looked up, dumbfounded. One hand subconsciously came up to touch his arm while your hand holding the water bottle crinkled it loudly. “You’re obviously having a hard time, and you aren’t drinking enough water… no matter how busy it is you come first.”

You nodded quietly, still unsure of what to do about his hand.

“I didn’t bother you today right?” he asked, leaning ever so slightly closer, you could make out the flecks of gold in his brown eyes at this angle, and his skin was flawless.

“N-no,” you squeaked out.

“I notice a lot more than you think I do…” he said, and you bit your lip feeling his hand fall carelessly against your side, fitting against you almost too well. You felt a tingle in your breasts, and just knew that if you were to look now both nipples would be hard and pressing against your bra. You were grateful you wore a padded one today.

“L-like what?”

“I knew you were upset as soon as you walked in.”

“Oh…?”

He brought his thumb gently across your lips, “These pretty lips were frowning, and those eyes barely even looked at me…” he whispered. You could clearly hear your heart pounding in your ears. What was happening right now?

“You were much too quiet… if you ever have any problems I’m always willing to help you out.”

You gasped as he tilted your head up to look into his eyes, “Do you got that?”

You nodded dumbly, biting the inside of your lip as your eyes moved down to his plush lips, appreciating the smoothness of his face. You really wanted to reach up to touch it, maybe it wouldn’t hu-

���Chef!”

The two of you jumped apart and you immediately turned and grabbed your forehead, acting miserable.

“Yes?” He asked. His voice was icy as he turned around to face Elaina, who was standing in the doorway looking slightly confused and frazzled.

“Sorry to interrupt… They need you back on the line. The others can’t keep up.” She said.

He nodded and looked back at you, “You all right?”

You nodded quickly, not feeling confident enough to speak.

“Come out when you’re ready.” He said and walked out, shutting the cooler behind him.

You let out a soft gasp of air that you hadn’t realized you had been holding, your whole body zinging with energy… if he could make you feel this way with such a simple touch, imagine how he could make you feel…

You shook your head quickly, ridding yourself of those thoughts. He was just being nice, that was it. It was never going to happen.

You spent a couple more minutes inside, calming down before you finally stepped out to finish the evening off right.

~~~~

A couple days later, and you were still thinking about that night in the cooler. You replayed it in your head multiple times during the day. Whenever you masturbated you thought heavily of him inside you, of his eyes boring into yours, of his honey sweet voice in your ear whispering your name.

You thought about Jin for at least seventy five percent of your days, even when you were off all you could think of was him.

“Y/N, you have a table at thirty three.”

You immediately snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at the host before leaving the kitchen to get the table started. It was slow today, besides Jin there was one other cook working. It was supposed to be an easy table- that was until they complained about the menu, and then basically tried to modify something into a completely new thing. You did your best to be polite and said you would ask the chef about accommodating them. You walked in nervously, and called out, “Hey, Jin?”

“Yes?” He asked, looking up from the sandwich he was cutting in half.

You shyly listed off the modifications, and he stared at you with an annoyed expression, cocking an eyebrow as you finished, “Are you actually serious?”

You nodded slowly. His attitude was getting you angry already.

“Well, first of all we don’t have cucumbers, you know that. Second, we don’t have seasoning to blacken a fucking salmon, you also know that. Third, I can’t even respond to the rest because it’s honestly not worth my time. Use your brain,” He said flippantly.

How was he the same person as the one in the cooler that time?

What was his problem?

“Are you done now?” You asked, immediately catching an attitude. Just because he was hot didn’t mean he could talk to you like that.

“Excuse me?” He asked, looking up through his gorgeous lashes dangerously.

“Are you done being a dick? I’m just doing my job, which is to satisfy my customers. Your job is to answer my questions, not give me snobby replies and act like a prick.”

“My job is to cook food, not cater to your needs. Quit wasting my time, and go take care of your idiot table.” he ordered.

“Will you make my order?”

“Is it going to have stupid modifications that I can’t fulfill, if so, then no. If you’re going to keep being a bitch then I also won’t be making your order. Quit wasting your time.”

You huffed angrily, and the two of you began going back and forth insulting each other, growing louder and louder until your manager came in to calm the situation and split you guys up. You huffed angrily, cheeks red, and practically ran from the kitchen to ring in your ridiculous and ‘stupid’ order. Now you didn’t care if they couldn’t do it. They would do it.

~~~~~

The rest of the evening after the fight was tense, and you were grateful that when you left Jin was nowhere to be seen. In the end, they had made the order almost perfectly, and the table left happily so you supposed that was all that mattered.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the fight though, you had both said some pretty bad things. You wondered if you guys could ever really get along.

You were walking quietly down the empty employee halls heading to the clock out, it was late since you had got stuck doing extra side work, so everyone had mostly gone home for the night.

You were mid sigh when you felt a large hand clasp over your mouth while a strong arm snaked around your waist and pulled you into one of the side boiler rooms, causing a muffled shriek to leave your lips as the person kicked the door open and you heard a familiar silky voice say, “Shh, behave.”

You froze and blinked, looking around the low lit and frankly dirty room. There were a couple machines running that were always on, running the building, resonating with a persistent hum.

You struggled violently to get out of Jin’s strong grip but he only held tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arm, hand firmly over your mouth until you finally gave up with an indignant groan. You knew it was Jin, but that was it. Your stomach was churning with anxiety and anticipation as he held you tightly in his grasp against his hot body. Your head at his chest.

“Are you done?” he whispered coolly against your ear, his tone slightly mocking.

You shuddered and nodded.

“I’m gonna move my hand, if you scream you’ll really be sorry.” he threatened.

Did you have a reason to scream? You wondered.

Sure Jin was being strange, but there was nothing to be worried about… right?

As his hand slid away you quickly asked, “What are you doing?”

He was silent for a while, wrapping his now free arm tightly around you in an iron like bind. Both of his arms were pressing against your chest, and you could feel your heart racing against your rib cage the longer he stood silently holding you.

“You were very bad today…” he whispered softly, and as he did his teeth caught hold of the tip of your ear, causing you to gasp and jerk your head away.

“I-I’m sorry?” you whimpered.

“You just keep fighting with me.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion you couldn’t understand.

“You keep fighting with me,” You replied, chewing your bottom lip. This position wasn’t one you expected to be in with Jin ever, especially after tonight, but here you were, standing caged in his arms against his strong chest.

He dropped his head on your shoulder, and his warm breath tickled your neck, causing goosebumps to rise up along your skin, “I want you so bad,” He whispered against you, placing a kiss against your neck.

Before you could think you were replying, “I want you too,” the words spilled out much too naturally. You felt anticipation shoot through you as he chuckled against your neck, beginning to litter kisses along your hot skin.

You tilted your head back to allow better access and then felt a zing of new fear go through you.

No. This was bad. This was very bad you needed to get away. You were literally at work, in a back hall where anyone could just walk in… Maybe had you been somewhere else this would be more appropriate?

“Are you insane?” You gasped, suddenly trying to jerk away again, pulling your head away from his lips.

“Are you?” He asked and pushed one of his arms down around your waist, driving your ass back into his center where you could feel his rising excitement. This couldn't be happening. His other hand easily found purchase on your breasts, groping you over your shirt and bra. You moaned out involuntarily at the friction and then bit your lip to try and quiet yourself.

Were you dreaming?

“That’s right you fucking whore… this is what you wanted all along hm?”

“W-what are you talking about?” you panted. It was embarrassing how you felt right now. You wanted to get away, you wanted to get out right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to struggle… your body would never forgive you for wasting this chance.

“Do you like to tease me?” he asked, and the hand that had been on your breast suddenly was wrapping around your throat as he pushed your head up and back against his shoulder, causing you to squeak as his eyes met yours.

Oh fuck.

You tried to shake your head, but you were totally incompacitated with his hand wrapped around you like this. The hand around your waist slithered up and he began quickly undoing the buttons on your uniform.

You weakly began to struggle, suddenly feeling anxiety shoot through you. You had just finished working, what if you were gross? A sick part of you wanted this, craved it, but the rational part of you was screaming at you to get out of there.

His hand eased on your throat only slightly and you gasped for air, causing him to laugh cruelly before he released your throat and turned you around to face him, his eyes were filled with desire and lust. It caught you so off guard you didn’t even have time to react before he was forcing you against the wall.

“I know you want me.” he said softly, strong arms caging you in on either side.

“I- I don’t know what you’re t-”

He cut you off by aggressively pressing his lips against yours, one hand grabbing your chin while the other began kneading your breast again, making you gasp and moan as his warm lips moved against yours. At first you tried to pull away, to stop the kiss, but his mouth felt so soft and his touch felt so good you couldn’t help yourself. Your eyes fluttered closed and one hand came up to grab the arm that was raised against your cheek.

A part of you knew this was wrong, and you knew that a normal person would be afraid of this large man, but you weren’t. You were completely overpowered with lust that had been stewing ever since he had walked through those doors.

Who cared if someone walked in? A part of you wished someone would.

Who cared if you weren’t in pristine condition? He clearly didn’t.

His hands found your legs and you let out a shocked squeak as he lifted you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist while your back leaned against the wall. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck as well and he smiled down at your shocked expression.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he breathed as his nimble fingers took up unbuttoning your shirt again.

“M-me too,” you stuttered earnestly, already a desperate and needy mess, especially with the slight pressure of him against your core.

“Really,” he said, his voice lowering and one of his eyebrows cocking up in an enthused expression.

You were about to reply, but his hands were suddenly cupping your bra clad chest, squeezing slightly. You moaned embarrassingly, throwing your head back against the wall as he teased you.

“This is pretty,” He commented, his finger trailing down the outside of your lacy bra.

“Th-thanks,” You stuttered.

“Did you wear it hoping I might see it?” He asked, his hands cupping your breasts again as his dark eyes met yours in the halflight.

You remembered all the times you put on your work outfit you would wonder if Jin would like it. You had wondered if his hands would ever move to unclasp your bra and do all the things you could only fantasize about.

You nodded slightly and he smirked, before his hands were coming behind your back and skillfully unclasping the bra. A part of you wondered how many times he had done this before tonight, but you didn’t really care. He was yours for the night, so what did it matter?

As your bra was loosened he easily slid his hands under it to grope you much easier, his large hands cupping them. You pushed your head against the wall, biting your lip to stifle the moans that were bubbling at your lips. His fingers skillfully found your already hard nipples, running back and forth over them. With each touch of his hand arousal shot through your core.

“J-Jin,” you whimpered as he rolled your sensitive buds between his fingers.

“Yes my dear,” he asked, eyes boring into you.

“W-what if someone sees?” You asked, your breath was coming out faster as he began to play more roughly with your nipples, occasionally groping your chest insistently.

“Hmm… then I guess they’ll know how much of a slut you actually are behind that bitchy exterior,” he said. You huffed as he was suddenly attacking your neck again, trailing to bite your shoulder and collarbone, irritably pushing the fabric of your button up aside.

“F-fuck,” you whispered, shuddering as he began sucking on a spot just below your collarbone, hands still working gracefully on your chest. You could feel the growing wetness of your panties, and you were becoming needy. Unfortunately, Jin had no intentions of rushing the time he had with you, taking his time leaving an array of bruises just below your collarbones, hands still groping your chest.

His mouth finally found yours and as you kissed he helped you get your shirt off the rest of the way, and then gently lowered your feet to the ground to remove your bra as well. You kissed him back feverishly as his hands found your hips, holding them within his massive hand as your mouth opened with his, deepening the already sloppy kiss.

One of his hands went back to your breast, flicking over your nipple and making you squeak against his lips. He chuckled and pulled away, licking his lips as he looked at you standing topless before him.

You felt suddenly exposed but you couldn’t think too much as he was suddenly bringing his head down and gripping one of your breasts, guiding his hot mouth to your nipple. You gasped and shuddered at the feeling of his wet tongue against you, practically lying against the wall as he worked his magic on you, teasing your body cruelly.

You let out a startled gasp as he suddenly slapped your ass hard, the sound echoing in the dark room. He continued to squeeze and grope your ass while his mouth trailed from one breast to the other before reconnecting feverishly with your mouth. His fingers finally began to work at undoing your jeans and you lifted your arms again to wrap around his neck as you made out, to distract you as his hand wasted no time in dipping into your pants.

You moaned loudly and dropped your head against his shoulder to muffle the sound as his fingers dragged along your wet panties, finding your clit easily and beginning to move his middle finger in slow circles.

“You’re practically dripping,” he teased, and you let out a low whine as his finger continued to rub your sensitive bud through your panties. Your stomach was twisting and turning with anticipation, and all you wanted was to feel him inside of you already.

“Hurry up and fuck me!” You gasped as his finger pressed harder against you.

“Someone’s impatient,” He laughed, but made no move to do what you had told him. You reached out boldly and began rubbing over the bulge of his cock in his jeans, moving your own hand in slow circles as he did the same to you.

He didn’t stop you, but he did finally dip his hands beneath your panties, splitting the folds of your dripping cunt with his fingers and making your body shudder hard at the feeling. You kept rubbing his cock, but you were forced to stop as you felt a finger slip into your core, causing you to cry out loudly.

As you pulled back your head he pushed you back against the wall hard and reconnected his lips with yours to quiet you. As he began fingering you, his fingers brushed against your g-spot, drawing out mewls of arousal from your lips. You couldn’t even focus on the kiss, your entire being was focused on his fingers slipping in and out of your core.

You blushed hearing the squelching sounds of your wetness as he began fingering you.

“Let’s get these off of you shall we?” He suggested, and you whined as he pushed your jeans and panties down with ease, as soon as they hit the ground his fingers were dragging back against you, making you shudder and cry out.

“Jin!” you moaned as he suddenly was pushing his fingers inside of you again quickly, wasting no time in beginning to pound in and out of you expertly.

“You’d better quiet down before someone hears you princess,” he whispered darkly, not bothering to slow his pace.

You bit down hard on your lip, your hands reaching out to ground yourself on his shoulders, fingers digging into them as your mouth twisted in pleasure and embarrassment. The sound of your wetness was new even to you. Jin suddenly stopped and you whined out loudly, causing him to laugh softly.

“Sit down over here,” he ordered, and pointed to a chair conveniently placed in the corner of the room, probably left there to be thrown away, but instead forgotten.

“W-what if it’s dirty,” you whimpered.

He smiled softly down at you. You had been reduced to nothing more than his toy at this moment, standing naked in front of him, completely at his mercy. You had to say though, you definitely didn’t mind.

He slowly undid his chef’s coat, sliding it off to reveal a tight black tee shirt beneath it and slowly went to the chair, laying it over the bottom of it. In the half light you could see the definition of his muscles and as he turned around you were wrapping your arms around his neck to sloppily kiss him again while his hands wrapped around your waist, kissing you back just as hard as your hands glided to his chest.

He was just as muscular as you had expected.

“Take off your shirt,” you gasped.

He chuckled and pulled away, slowly grabbing the edges of it and sliding it over his head, revealing his toned abs and strong shoulders.

“Holy shit,” you whimpered, your hands coming to touch his pectoral muscles and running down his body, enjoying the ridges of his abs against your fingertips, stopping at his waist band.

“That’s enough now,” he cooed, “Sit down,” he ordered, pushing you slightly towards the chair.

“But what if-”

“Sit. Down.” His voice took on a more authoritative tone and your stomach twisted.

“O-okay,”

“It’s not okay. It’s, ‘Yes, Chef.’” he ordered.

“Y-yes Chef,” you stuttered, sitting down in the chair slowly.

You bit your lip as Jin dropped to his knees in front of you, looking down at him through anxious eyes. You had no idea what he was planning, or what he wanted.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered and you took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected to be this exposed to him at all. His eyes were boring into you hungrily, and you felt anticipation knotting up your stomach as you slowly spread apart your legs, revealing your wet core to him.

You flinched as he let out a shaking breath, “You’re so fucking hot,” he said, “Such a pretty little whore,”

You looked down at him as you felt his fingers coming up to caress your outer thighs, his fingers trailing over your knees and down your calves. Every touch from his nimble fingers was electric. Yet his hands wouldn’t go near your core, and you were growing desperate.

“T-touch me,” you whimpered.

“Hmm,” he sighed softly, and his fingers went higher up your thighs, “Show me how you want me to touch you,” He breathed and you felt a zing of anxious excitement shoot through you. You had never done something so lewd in front of another person, and you weren’t sure if you could.

“W-what do you mean?” You stalled.

“Take your hand,” he ordered, grabbing your wrist and guiding it to your dripping cunt, “And play with yourself while I watch. Show me how you like it.”

You bit your lip, looking down at him through your lashes, he stared up at you lustfully, his eyes sliding down your body to focus on your center.

You closed your eyes, and leaned back against the chair, your fingers sliding slowly between your folds and running over your clit. You brought up your other hand to gently begin playing with your nipple, sliding your finger back and forth as the one between your legs rubbed up and down against your clit, gliding between the folds.

You shuddered feeling his hot breath against your hand, and you chanced a glance to see he had drawn closer, focusing on your hand as it moved.

You slowly drew your finger down to your own entrance, pushing your finger against the entrance, little moans sliding out of your lips as you began to push a finger in, making Jin moan as well as he watched.

“You really are such a little slut,” he teased, and you mewled as you felt two of his fingers against you, beginning to push apart your folds further, examining your most private area with predatory eyes, “Just imagine if someone came in right now,” he whispered, his hot breath brushing against you as your finger pushed in further.

His talk was making you more excited and more desperate, you wished someone would come in and see this right now.

“Imagine the look on their face when they see you sitting here, touching your pretty little cunt for me.”

The thought alone was making you more worked up, “Chef,” you whimpered, plunging your fingers faster in and out of yourself, sweat was beading on your forehead and beginning to sheen over your body as you became more and more aroused.

“Yes princess,” He crooned, his fingers sliding up either side of your core, making you more crazy and desperate.

“Mmmm,” you couldn’t even speak as one of his fingers ghosted against your clit as you continued to touch yourself, finger flicking more insistently over your nipple, sending shocks of pleasure through you with each stroke.

“Such a good little whore, all for me,” he praised, beginning to rub your clit in slow circles, making you keen softly, biting your lip hard to try and stop the noises that were begging to spew from your lips.

You were drawing close, your thighs beginning to tremble as you attempted to spread your legs further for him, your hand reaching up to your own throat, squeezing the sides in desperation.

“Choking hm,” he whispered, and you whined as you heard him stand. His hands wrapped around both of your wrists, stopping you from bringing yourself to orgasm.

“L-let go,” you begged, attempting to push your fingers back inside but he pulled them out instead, laying your hand on your thigh while he took the hand around your throat and also set that on your thigh.

“I bet I can make you cum twice as hard as you can yourself,” he whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple. You felt his hands slip down against your core before pushing inside of you once again, this time with a vengeance.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, and he quickly pressed his lips against yours to stifle you as he began to curl his fingers expertly inside of you. He rubbed that sensitive area with vigor, slowly picking up the pace as his other hand gripped gently on your throat. He was doing everything perfectly, and your body and mind were in ecstasy.

Your hands lifted to grip the offending arm desperately, fingernails digging into his firm arm.

“That’s right, come on Y/N,” He breathed against you, bringing you closer to the edge. You gasped and shuddered as an orgasm was suddenly upon you, causing you to lurch forward against Jin’s shoulder, clawing at his bicep as he carried you through the orgasm, pounding into you hard and fast.

He pulled quickly out of you, giving you a moment to come down, “Ready for another round?” He asked, and you pulled away in shock before he was suddenly rubbing your clit hard and fast, causing you to gasp as the pleasure changed to slight pain as overstimulation set in.

“S-stop… n-no,” You whimpered, your body already beginning to tremble. You were already exhausted from the first one, and you could feel the pressure building up twice as much.

Soon you were too far gone as he was pounding into you once again, sweat dripping down his chest and arms as he pounded in and out of you vigorously, his head against your wet neck.

“I’m-i’m gonna… oh please,” you mewled and your eyes clenched so tight that you saw white. Your body convulsed hard beneath his finger and his hand came over your mouth as your moans grew loud and intense, liquid spewed lewdly from out of you as you came.

He watched with pride as you squirted, body writhing as your wetness covered his hand.

As soon as you finished you felt intense humiliation racing through your veins, and as he went to pull away you grabbed a hold of him tightly, trembling still, your legs clamping closed. You felt like you might cry as you breathed against his chest.

“Good job princess,” he whispered, gently rubbing your thighs and sides before one of his hands was going to rub your back.

“I’m s-sorry,” you squeaked.

“Hm?” He asked, pulling away from you. His strong brows furrowed at your anxious expression.

“I didn’t m-mean to,” you whimpered, looking away from him, your hands holding tightly to his wet arm.

“Oh princess, you were amazing,” he praised, his voice taking on a comforting and almost sweet tone as he kissed your face.

You blushed brightly, taking deep breaths to calm down. You were still embarrassed, but as Jin’s hands ran up and down your sides soothingly, whispering praise against your ear, you slowly relaxed, and your body began begging once again for his cock.

“Will you fuck me now?” You whispered, looking up at him.

“I’m going to make you see stars,” he growled and you gasped as he was yanking you up from the chair and kissing you hard, his tongue invading your mouth feverishly.

You melted into the kiss, and your hands travelled down his well muscled torso to his black jeans. You were quick to undo his pants for him, pushing down the waistband eagerly, while still trying to maintain the kiss.

He separated from your mouth for a moment to pull down his pants, and then his boxers, revealing his hard length.

You gasped seeing how big he actually was, a zap of fear going through you as you wondered if you would be able to take him all. Your hands went to his cock, and you began jerking him off. Rubbing up and down on his hard length. He lifted his hands to your face, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed you hard, grunting occasionally as you went.

His mouth eventually left yours to attack the side of your neck, his hands sliding down your body and groping your ass. You were eager to feel him inside of you, just the thought alone making you wetter.

You whimpered as he smacked your ass quite hard and he pulled away from you, “Against the wall,” he ordered suddenly. You looked down and realized the precum beading at the tip of his hard cock.

You felt a flash of excitement and pride, “Yes, Chef,” you said, pulling away and going against the wall.

You heard him bend down and the rip of a package as he slipped on a condom. It was a good thing he thought to do so, because your mind was far from worrying about anything other than having him fill you.

You heard him coming back over and you squeaked as he grabbed your hips, pulling you back. Your palms splayed against the wall and you spread your legs a bit for him as he slid his finger down the length of your spine before pausing and you squeaked as he slapped your ass once again.

“After all the trouble you give me, it’s so good hearing you whine like that,” he said softly, and you gasped as he spanked you again, “You wanted me to punish you didn’t you,” he teased.

“Y-yes Chef,” you said, and as he spanked you once more, you revelled in the sting of it, feeling the way your body reacted to him spanking you. After a few more tears were pricking the corner of your eyes and you were growing needy.

“Oh please fuck me!” You cried out.

He was quiet for a moment, but then you felt his fingers slipping between your lips, pushing your lips apart to give him easier access.

“Alright now princess, be good for me,” he whispered and you waited with bated breath as the head of his cock teased your entrance, he rubbed against your slit a few times, gathering your own wetness all over his cock before he began to push inside of you.

You moaned out and brought one hand to your mouth to stifle the sound as your walls spasmed around him. He was massive, stretching you as he slowly inserted himself deep inside of you. He let out little grunts of his own at the feeling of your body clenching around him.

“I’m in,” he said, leaning down to gently bite your shoulder, making you squeak at the feeling.

“F-fuck me,” you begged, “Just fuck me,”

“So needy,” he commented, before he began slowly sliding in and out of you, causing your muscles to spasm. You bit your lip, trying to stifle any of the sounds that were begging to be released.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, smacking your ass as he started getting into a rhythm, fucking into you at a steady pace, making you whine and shudder around him. This was more than you could have ever dreamed. With each thrust he would bury himself deep inside of you, head teasing your cervix, before pulling nearly all the way out and then snapping his hips back into you, causing you to cry out at the feeling.

“Are you my little whore?” He growled as he started to pick up the pace.

“Y-yes chef,” you whimpered, feeling your knees growing weak.

“Say it.” He ordered, and you let out a faltering gasp as he suddenly pulled you up, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you while his other wrapped around your throat, pushing your head back against his chest.

“Ahh, I-I’m your little whore,” you breathed out, gasping as he was suddenly thrusting right into a sensitive area deep inside, with each snap of his hips your body would spasm.

Suddenly you both froze hearing voices coming from somewhere, and adrenaline zapped through your body. Oh fuck, what if they heard you, or worse what if they came in and saw.

He grabbed you tightly and forced you to turn with him to face the door, grabbing one of your breasts, his finger flicking cruelly over your nipple, “Do you think you can keep quiet,” he whispered against your ear, slipping his hand down your abdomen to slide a finger over your clit.

“A-aang,” you gasped, biting your tongue as he began to move his finger in slow circles, the voices were growing closer.

“They’d be so turned on to see you like this,” he whispered, “Totally at my mercy.” He growled, beginning to thrust slowly in and out again, pulling his hand away from your clit to hold you, one hand still wrapped around your throat. You felt tears pricking your eyes as you did your best to keep quiet, your stomach twisting with anxiety and your heart pounding so loud they could probably hear it out there.

He did everything in his power to torment you, fingers running between teasing your nipple and rubbing your clit. Whispering sweet nothings against your ear while occasionally biting your earlobe.

Finally you heard the door to the outside open and it was silent once more.

You let out a shaky sigh and he picked up the pace, his hand splaying across your abdomen. “Good girl,”

“Y-you’re insane,” you whined, and he laughed softly before beginning to fuck you harder, the sound of his skin slapping yours filling the room.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, “I can feel my cock hitting your walls,” he whispered in your ear, sending a shiver through your body.

He grabbed your hand, placing it under his against your abdomen. You gasped as he suddenly snapped his hips into you, and you felt the bulge against your hand, making you even more turned on.

“Can you feel it,”

“You’re so fucking big,” you whined as he suddenly started fucking you harder, almost bouncing you on his cock. His hand moved from yours to rub your clit, making you moan loudly. His hand on your throat was snapping over your mouth in an instant to quiet you as you were pushed into orgasm once more, muscles spasming around the large man’s monstrous cock, the feeling of him hitting into your hand was making you crazy.

As you finished he slipped out of you, and you nearly fell, your legs weak. He caught you easily and spun you around, pushing you up against the wall. His hands slipped under your thighs and he was lifting you before you knew it, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips.

“I’m not done just yet baby,” he whispered. You whimpered, and sighed as he slid his cock back into easily.

“Hmmmm,” You sighed in contentment, your hands wrapping around his neck and tangling in his hair as you leaned forward to kiss him hard.

He didn't even need to lean you against the wall, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed you back just as hard, your walls spasming around his large cock. You felt so full it was blissful.

He finally pressed you back against the wall, and began to pound in and out of you, causing you to throw your head back against the wall as he fucked you.

He was going faster, sweat was dripping from both of you as you were getting closer to orgasm and Jin was right on the edge. He was beginning to spew curse words, his hands gripping your sides hard as he pounded into you. You were almost laying against the wall, if it wasn’t for his hands holding you up and your death grip around his neck you would fall.

“Such a good fucking whore,” He growled, and you gasped as he lifted a hand to grope your breast, flicking his finger over your nipple before you saw his abdomen spasm, his muscles clenching as he groaned out loudly himself. His hand going back, exposing his gorgeous neckline, face twisted in pleasure.

You moaned at the sight, and as the hand on your breast rubbed over your swollen, oversensitive clit you were coming as well, body spasming for the fourth time in orgasm as he held you tightly. As you both finished finally you pulled yourself up onto him, dropping your head against his shoulder and taking gasping breaths, your entire body exhausted.

You felt his cock slip out of you and he held you tightly, a hand going to your head, running his fingers through your hair, breathing just as deeply as you.

“How are you?” He asked.

“Tired,” you muttered, you weren’t sure yet if you could stand on your own.

“Think you’ll be able to drive home?” He asked, rubbing your back in slow circles.

You let out a soft sigh, “Ohhhh, fuck,” you groaned. You had completely forgotten about the thirty minute drive home, and already your body was so sore and tired. You wanted to sleep more than anything.

“You can stay the night with me,” he offered sweetly.

“Are you sure,” you muttered.

“Get dressed,” He ordered, helping you disentangle yourself from him and finding your clothes for you.

You struggled slightly getting yourself dressed. You would need to go to the bathroom asap, but you wondered if he would leave you behind if you did. Not that it would matter. Jin put on his clothes, folding up his chef's coat from the chair and folding it over his arm.

You looked at it and felt a dark blush cover your cheeks, “I’m sorry… about that.” you said, gesturing to the chef's coat.

Jin chuckled darkly, “It was sexy,” he said, shrugging and grinning from ear to ear.

You looked away shyly, “Th-thanks… and I- I’m sorry about today too. I was just frustrated and-” Jin came forward, placing a finger against your lips.

“Hush. We’re already past that… you made up for it… Besides it was more me than you that was being an asshole.” He admitted, and leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“I really like you,” you blurted. Perhaps it was the exhaustion, or the fact this man had given you four of the best orgasms of your life, but you were suddenly ready to bare your soul to him.

You didn’t want this to be a one time thing… well maybe just once here. You didn’t want to go back to the strained relationship.

“Well I gathered that,” he said, rolling his eyes at you.

“I-I mean it… I…”

“Princess, we don’t need to talk about this right now.” He said, caressing your cheek, “We smell like sex and sweat, and we’re standing in a filthy back room at work… let’s go back to my place okay? We can take a shower and talk more,” he promised.

You nodded slowly, that sounded heavenly… but still.

“Th-that’s fine but, we won’t go back to how things were before right?… We aren’t gonna fight anymore?”

“I’m tired of pretending I like you less than I do,” he said, smiling sweetly at you before coming over to you.

He placed his arm around you and slowly opened the door, looking both ways before stepping out and taking you outside into the cold air. As soon as you got to his car and sat down in the passenger seat you were out like a light…

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

[echos-newlegs]

Hi there lovely! Can we see 46 with crosshair x fem! Reader? ❤️

Got you

Bro oh my goodness yes 😳 deadass the moment I read this I had gotten done sighting one of my deer rifles and I got an idea from it and this prompt allows me to use that idea so thank you 😎 I wasn’t doing anything illegal. It was all safe and I was at a shooting range lmao. I just had an idea from it 💀

Tbh I thought this would be better but then I decided to write at midnight.

Ner Sarad: My Flower

Crosshair x Reader: “Isn’t this illegal?” “I mean, probably?”

Warnings: reader is using a gun. Bit detailed on shooting because yes. No one is injured besides Your guys egos and a door. There is swearing and kissing/making out ig.

There wasn't many times that you actually caught some proper rest. You were normally always kept up by nightmares or the noises in the room or outside. Whether it be lying in your bunk on Kamino, or the one on the Marauder.

Though, whenever you did catch a break. It seemed like you were always awoken by one of the boys. For no reason most the time.

You groaned, eyes snapping open. You nearly punched whoever it was throwing stuff at you. Looking down to your legs to see your boots and your blacks. "C'mon." You heard Crosshairs voice. He had been ignoring you for the past month. You figured it was just his mood swings, you did something, or it was the fact Hunter demanded Crosshair taught you how to use the rifle.

You didn't really want to if he wasn't up for teaching you. Though it would be neat. You were never a fan of being in the middle of the war field like the rest of them, and Hunter caught on. Which is why he figured having two people on rifle wouldn't hurt.

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" You asked and Crosshair looked back. Though you were moving out of the bunk with your clothes in arm. Making way for the fresher. "We're target practicing, now hurry before I change my mind." He scoffed and you nearly ran into the fresher with a grin.

Not only was Cross taking time out of his 'busy' schedule to hang out with you, but he would be target practicing with you.

You exited the fresher in your customized blacks the Bad Batch got for you. Tech figured it would be good, being you had your own armor. Some that matched their design.

You sat back on the bed, strapping on your leg pieces and crotch piece only. Since that's all Crosshair had on.

When you left the room and entered the main room of the Marauder you reached for your blaster on a shelf, but he stopped you. Shoving your hand away from it. Putting his rifle in your hand instead. "Here," he gruffed, and your eyes widened. Fingers curling around the forestock.

"You trust me enough to let me use your own gun?" You asked with a small smile, brows raised. He only shrugged and sighed. Walking past you to the door. You took that as a yes. Him handing you a container of ammo and motioning with his head for you to follow.

You had a slight pep in your step. Hands carefully holding the gun. The stock pressed against your shoulder. Barrel pointing down.

When the two of you left the ship you were both squinting. The rising sun hitting your eyes. Both of you letting out a slight hiss. "Should of brought our helmets," you commented, and he grunted. "Can't aim with a visor like yours." You sighed, that wasn't what you meant. There was no use arguing and pissing him off though.

Your boots crunched against the ground. A mix of loose rocks, grass, sticks, and other plants. "Where we heading," he motioned forward. Not saying where though. Typical.

The planet you were on was for a mission. You had all completed the mission but were all too exhausted to leave. It didn't pose a threat since it was a simple find and retrieve mission. Some weird crystals and lost items for a senator. 'We went from guard dogs to kriffing pets playing fetch,' you had commented the day before. All of them, even Crosshair agreed with you. It was boring, to say the least. The search wore you all out though.

Your legs were beginning to sting a bit. The walking wasn't something you weren't used to. It was the injury you had from the previous mission. Though you did your best to keep up with the long legged man. "Gunna have to get used to keeping up, Ner sarad." You rolled your eyes and sighed. “You better not be calling names, you know I can’t understand Mando’a.” You added with a sliver of a whine laced in your voice.

He smirked at your comment, thankful you were somewhat behind him so you couldn’t see. “That’s the point,” you shook your head. Catching up beside him finally. Though he did slow down just a hair. He wouldn’t admit it. “Turn,” he shoved you a bit and you glared. Turning where he told you to, then he took the lead again.

The turn led to an abandoned building. A flight of stairs connected to the outside. Cross pausing in front of it, then looking to you. “Waiting for Hunter to wake up or you scared?” Cross spoke and you snickered. “Making me go first and you’re calling me scared, typical.” He sneered a bit at that as you purposely ran into his shoulder on your way to the stairs. Keeping the gun up from the steps as you made your way up.

He was close behind you, almost too close, actually. So when you stopped at the top he nearly ran into your back. Making you smirk as you looked back to him. Not saying anything. “What?” He snapped, and you shook your head. “Oh nothing.” “Sure, go over there.” He motioned vaguely with his hand as he walked off into the other direction.

You could only assume he meant near the little ledge near the end of the roof. Standing there a bit awkwardly until he returned with some pieces of shrapnel and pots. Varying in sizes. “A’ight, Sarad, you know how to use a rifle, right?” He asked, and you nodded. “Yeah,” “load it for me then.” That was no problem. Taking some of the bullets from the container he brought. You popped open the magazine, slipped a few bullets in, then slipped it back into the gun. Pulling back the lever then pushing it forward again with a click.

He nodded, standing behind you now. “Y’ever shot one?” He asked, helping you bring it to your shoulder. You could barely process the question. Your heart was racing. You could almost feel his back up against yours. His hands holding yours to help you bring the gun up. Repositioning your hands. Then letting go of you to see if your would falter. Though you kept the position.

“Not for a long while, I used to with my brother, when we were kids,” you spoke. Grunting when he kicked your feet apart, then went back to standing by your side. He only hummed, looking around in front of you two. Then pointed. “See that door,” you nodded. “Shoot at the white square in the middle.” He twirled his toothpick in between his teeth and you sighed.

“Isn’t this illegal?” You asked, aiming the weapon. Closing your left eye as you peered through the scope. Poking your tongue out of your mouth in concentration. “I mean, probably.” He murmured. Watching you with folded arms.

You barely heard what he said. Inhaling, then holding your breath as you aimed. Once you had the spot, you exhaled slowly. Finger squeezing the trigger.

When the weapon fired your grip loosened. Shoulder jerking back with the gun. Causing the scope to smack around your eye. You winced, letting out a sharp hiss. Heart racing and ears ringing from the loud bang.

Crosshair was too focused on where you were aiming to even notice you just scoped yourself. “Nice,” he approved. Then looked back over to you.

You leant back a bit, back against the wall. Fingers feeling under your eye and he instantly knew what you did. “Thought you knew how to shoot.” His voice was sour, and it stung. “I told you I haven’t shot in a while,” you spat back. Bringing your fingers from your face. Wondering if it was bruised. It felt wet, but there was no blood on your fingers. So you assumed it was a mix of the tears that sprung to your eyes and the sweat on your hands.

You were too focused on the ringing in your ears and the stinging of your face to even notice Crosshair approach you. He took the gun, leaning it against the wall. Then grabbed your wrists, making you flinch. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he was trying to reassure you, but his voice was still hard and sour. “Let me look.”

You looked up to him, lips pressed in a line. He brought a hand to your cheek. Finger pressing lightly against the skin under your eye. Making you flinch and tears threaten to spill. “Kriff, don’t do that,” you snapped and he smirked a bit. “Should have at least told me to keep the gun hugged to my shoulder.” You protested. Eyes darting to the side. Avoiding his gaze the best you could.

He pulled the toothpick from out between his lips. “Probably still woulda done it. If you haven’t shot for years.” His hand was still on your cheek. You were sure he could feel it heating up. Letting out a sharp exhale through your nose. “Are we still gunna shoot or just stand around like a bunch of morons?” You asked, looking back to him. Catching the short glimpse of shock on his face.

“You still wanna shoot?” He asked. Dropping his hands to his sides. Nodding. “Yeah, so what I got scoped, least I have proof you actually took me shooting.” You smirked. Making him chuckle. Lips tugging up, just shy of a smile. “And if I don’t let you?” “I ask hunter what Ner Sarad means and I tell everyone you gave me the black eye I’m most likely going to have.” You threatened. Jabbing your finger at his chest. Making him roll his eyes and sigh.

“Fine.”

The shooting went on great. You were a better aim than he expected. Which made you feel a bit proud of yourself. Especially since Crosshair was praising you in some way. You still needed work on flying targets, but you were sure you’d get the hang of it.

Once the container of bullets he brought was empty, that was when you guys decided on leaving.

“So what does it mean?” You asked. Cross now holding the gun, you holding the empty container. Arms more sore than they’ve ever been. You honestly weren’t sure how he did it. “What’s what mean?” He asked, looking over to you. You nodded your head up a bit. “Ner Sarad.” The words rolled off your tongue, slightly mimicking his gruff voice.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t sound like that..” “oh, you’re right, it’s more a Ner Saraaad.” You made the voice worse sounding, making you giggle. Cross smiling just a bit, then looking away. As if he showed you he was enjoying this moment his everything would crash and burn. “Guess.” You groaned, throwing your head back. “No, you know I hate guessing games, they kriffing suck.” He shrugged. That was it, a shrug. “Fine.” He smirked at that.

You thought for a moment or two. Fingers tapping the side of the container. Biting on your bottom lip a bit. “Hmm. Idiot,” “no,” “bitch,” “no,” “smart ass?” He sighed and you raised a brow. “Warm or cold?” He looked over to you, a look of unamusement written all over his face. “You’re on Hoth at this point.” His words made you want to give up more.

“Can I have a hint?” He nodded, stopping in his tracks. “Wait here,” he spoke. Then wandered off the trail you were both following. What could it be? Was he finding something? “Are you calling me a loser? Loner? Oh! You’re calling me a jackass.” You hollered, hearing a grumble follow your spew. Making you snicker.

When he returned he had a small purple flower in between his fingers. You stared at it with knitted brows. “A flower?” You spoke, dumbfounded. You looked up to his face. His jaw was clenched, eyes darting around. Cheeks red. “You’re calling me a flower? No, you ass you’re calling me a weed aren’t you?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest. The last thing you expected was the nickname to be something nice.

He sighed, looking at you with an ‘are you serious.’ Look. “What?” “You really are an idiot, sometimes,” you blinked, and then raised a brow. “You’re a stubborn shit, sometimes, too.” You told him, and he still held the flower in his hand. The two of you staring at one another for a moment. “Can you just tell me?” You spoke, “please?”

He sighed, looking up at the sky for a moment. Then back down to meet your eyes. “Ner Sarad, it means..” he trailed off. Swallowing thickly. He could lie, say it meant something else, but then the flower would make no sense, and you were smart. You would figure it out some way or another. “My flower.” He murmured. You could barely hear him. But you did. “Your what-“ “I’m not repeating myself, Makers sake.” He spat, and began walking again. Dropping the flower as he stormed off.

You were left standing there in disbelief. Shaking your head, you reached down to pick up the flower, then ran after him. “Cross, wait!” You shouted, yielding when he stopped. “What?” He snarled. Turning to look at you over his shoulder. You backed up a bit. Watching as his face softened a bit when you looked back to him. “Why a flower?” You asked, and his eyes looked down to the flower in between your fingers now. Sarting his tongue out to lick his lips.

He let out a sigh, thinking. He wasn’t sure what to say. He was horrible with words, let alone explaining things. “You remind me of them,” was all he said. “Why though?” You pressed, walking towards him. “If you don’t mind me asking..” you added, catching that he did look a bit anxious. Watching as he leaned his rifle against a tree. “They’re hum.. Maker..” he breathed out. Reaching up to pull the toothpick from his lips. Flicking it onto the ground. He reached out, grabbing you by the side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss.

His lips pressed against yours. Eyes squeezed shut. He knew he’d regret this right after, but he was better with actions than words anyways. You tensed up, hands rushing to his chest. Dropping the container and the flower in the process.

He pulled back. Taking a step back in the process. Hands brought back to himself, and it left you standing there staring. He hated you. How you smelt so good, how you intoxicated his every thought. How you could get him to talk more than even his brothers could. How your smile made his stomach feel light and fluttery. He despised you for everything you did to him. No other persons ever made him feel this way and he hated it. He felt to vulnerable, and that was something he shouldn’t feel. He was a clone, a defective one for that matter. This shouldn’t be a thing that was happening.

You could tell his mind was running a mile a minute when you said his name and he just stared at you with a blank stare. He was overthinking this, and you began panicking a bit internally. “Cross, hey, look at me, come back to me, Cross.” You spoke, voice soft and quiet. You made a move to reach up and cup his face, but his hands fled to your wrists. Looking down at you and to your eyes. Scanning you for something. “Why aren’t you mad?” He spoke, voice stinging into your skin.

You frowned, pushing forward from his grasp to cup his face. His hands still holding your wrists. You saw him relax for a second at your touch. “I’m not mad,” “but why? I just kissed you..” he spoke. Once now laced with distress. His walls were beginning to crack. Chip away and crumble all from your touch. “Crosshair, I understand, I know how you are with words. You fucking suck with em.” He frowned a bit at that, and you smiled. “Actions have always been your forte, and who’s to say I didn’t enjoy it?” You asked, your own nerves calming a bit as you attempted to reassure the lanky man.

He looked down at you with furrowed brows. “You’re just saying that.” You tittered, leaning up a bit. “You’re just stubborn.” He watched you for a moment. Your hands removing themselves from his face. Crosshairs fingers fell from your wrists. Falling to his side, but you weren’t done. “You gunna give up over a little rushed kiss, or you wanna try again?” You murmured, hands reaching for his. Fingers interlacing with one another.

“Thought you told me once you’ve kissed plenty of girls,” you teased. “It’s been a while.” Standing on your tip toes to lean in closer. “Then how bout we practice?” You asked, closing the gap between the two of you.

It was smoother than the last. You led it this time. Your hands leaving one another’s so your hands could wander his body. Tips of your fingers running up his stomach. Then running your hands over his chest to rest on his shoulders.

He had one hand on your lower back, the other moving to trace the skin of your throat. Long fingers running over your collar bone, then sliding up the back of your neck to place firmly against the back of your head.

Once the feeling was set he took over. The two of you pulling from the kiss for once a second, then his lips were back on yours. It wasn’t long before he was walking you back against a tree. Pressing you up against it which make you grunt. His tongue darting out to run over your lips. Then pry your lips open. A small hum escaping your chest. Making him smirk.

His hand on your lower back mover to cup your ass. Eyes parting a bit to see him open his eyes at the same time. You were too dazed to complain though. His tongue exploring your mouth. Then pulling back. A sting of saliva connecting your mouths.

The both of you were panting. Trying to catch your breathes after that little ordeal. “Practiced enough?” You managed, and he looked down a bit. Making your face heat up even more. If that were even possible. “No,” he deadpanned. Lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss. Then trailed down your jaw.

Once his lips met the skin of your neck it was all hunting ground to him. His teeth grazing your skin. Biting here and there. Sucking, leaving marks. He wanted the others to know that something went on. He wanted the regs at 79’s tonight to know that you were now his. Or at least in your eyes you were. His flower, his everything.

You both let out a groan when you heard Crosshairs comm go off. “Cross answer it,” you spoke in a near moan as he sucked on a sensitive patch of skin. Making him pull off with a grunt. His hands releasing you, letting you slump against the tree. “Crosshair, where are you and y/n?” He heard Tech on the other end. “We were shooting the rifle, we’ll be back in a bit,” “Cross-“ he shut off the com link. Turning back to face you with a small smirk as he looked you over. You were still a bit disheveled as you attempted to fix your shirt and your hair. Then leant over to pick up the container. Crosshair picking up the flower. “Hm?” You hummed as he reached over. Tucking it behind your ear. “There, Ner Sarad.”

You couldn’t help but smile, looking up to him with a loving gaze. “I hate you, sometimes,” you murmured. Giving him a quick kiss, then began walking for the marauder again. “Right back at you, y/n.”

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

May I request something where Leonardo and reader are really good friends and reader gets kidnapped and turned into a mutant. Leo blames himself, but reader reassures him it’s not his fault and they end up kissing. 💙💙

I'm To Blame [Leo x Mutated!reader]

Being turned into a mutant becomes the least of your problems when your closest friend believes it to be his fault. No one could have predicted what was going to happen; no one can control everything in their life. If only Leonardo would have realized that.

It started as leverage-abduction. The Turtles confront them, or you be pumped full of mutagen. Or worse.

The bait had been set, and the boys had no choice but to take it. Hook, line, sinker. You were held in a Foot-controlled lab, bound next to a glass canister of the ooze, a line in your arm and only the clan scientist in control of the drip standing between you and a possibly grotesque fate. You struggled and squirmed, but it was no use; there was no escape on your own.

There was a crash outside the lab doors, men shouting, guns firing, but bursting through the doors were your four saviors. Your friends, allies, and family. Leo fought his way to the front, a new kind of urgency consuming him as the gravity of the situation hit him. Any closer, and you would be mutated.

"Halt!" a soldier shouted over the clamor, a team of heavily armed men forming a semicircle around you and the scientist.

A hand grabbed hold of the back of your neck, yanking you toward him. He forcefully stretched your arm out and displayed the tube, making a note of their predicament, and the boys grimaced. Raph growled that deep, rage-fuelled rumble, while Donnie felt a shudder run up his spine seeing the canister of mutagen. What DNA the concoction was infused with, they had no idea of. There could have been anything in there. If the dosage wasn't carefully monitored, she could be killed!

"Weapons down, turtles, or this girl will be transformed right in front of you," the scientist said coolly. Leo stepped forward, blade drawn and teeth bared, but a warning shot was fired into the wall next to them. Mikey yelped and ducked into Raph, who blocked him partially with his huge frame. The scientist leaned down and inspected the canister, humming, "It seems like this batch is highly unstable. Is this a game you want to play, mutants?"

"You're bluffin'," snarled Raph, and his hands gripped his sais impossibly tighter.

The scientist raised his brows, his free hand wandering to the activator to the mutagen. One tap of a button, and your humanity would be ripped away. "Perhaps. But can you really be sure?" he inquired almost casually. "Only one flex of my finger, and we'll see."

Clenching his jaw, Raph shifted, lowering his weapons a little.

Leo mentally gauged the man power that was currently present. They could take them, he knew they could!

But Leo couldn't trifle with the canister currently attached to you. Breathing heavily, he dropped his swords, which clanged loudly on the floor. His eyes met yours, solemn, and you broke into a violent fit.

"Leo!" you cried out, lunging forward as he told his brothers to stand down. "Don't do this! Please, please, get out of here!"

He only shut his eyes, and with a wave of his hand, they all let go of their weapons in succession.

"We're not going to leave you!" Donnie yelled in return, his voice shaky.

There was a deafening silence in which it felt like a standoff, the boys panting, trying to formulate a battle plan in their heads. Leo stared at the scientist with one of the most hate-filled gazes you'd ever witnessed.

One of the soldiers in the back turned halfway around and whispered something into his earpiece.

The hefty metal doors right behind them flung open, a line of large men clad in black carrying what looked like modified cattle prods. The rods popped with electric currents as they closed in on the boys, who were only able to whirl around quick enough to meet the electrified weapons, and were instantly stunned. Currents no human could withstand brought them to their knees, Mikey shouting shrilly as he fell forward.

Groaning, Leo kneeled. He turned to the scientist at your side, his eyes darting between you and him. "You got us. Now let her go," he said. His voice was low and raspy.

Hand hovering over the button, the scientist spoke while he looked you in the eye, "You know, we were short of a healthy test subject."

Mikey gasped and planted his palms on the floor, "You can't do that, man!"

The scientist sighed and looked down at you, who was wildly struggling against your restraints. He muttered in a matter-of-fact tone, "But I can." It seemed that after a moment of contemplation, eyes going out of focus as they fell on your face and the tears running down it, he let out a reluctant groan, and motioned to one of the men behind him. "Take her elsewhere. We'll figure out what to do with her once we get these," he glanced back at the turtles, "squared away. Clear?"

"That wasn't the deal!" roared Leo, rapidly surging toward the scientist. Another electric shock was sent through him, but he kept on, and the brothers all followed suit.

You winced as the clamor rose and all hell broke loose, the boys ripping their weapons away from the men, guns being fired—your ears rang and a bullet even whizzed by your head.

Leo came at the scientist with his blade, the cowardly man trying to duck away in time. Two soldiers came up on their flank, one with a semi-automatic, and the other brandishing the electric rod. Except before they could get close to even shock him, Mikey's nunchucks landed a heavy blow on one of their heads, causing him to stumble toward you.

And fell right onto the button.

"No!" you heard both Donnie and Leo scream as the drip was activated, Mutagen flowing through the tube and into your body.

Everything became a blur. Within minutes you mutated, firstly writhing on the floor in agony as the burning liquid coarsest through you. Bones shifted, tissue changed, muscles spasmed. Your senses were temporarily blinded.

"Idiots!" snarled the scientist, backing away from you as you transformed. Raph was occupied holding off the soldiers. Mikey couldn't bear to watch. Donnie didn't know what to do, and Leo was...devastated.

Your strength grew. You broke free from your restraints. The firefight continued, this time aimed at you rather than just the Turtles. But the boys wouldn't let them hurt you. In your panic, you'd almost attacked them—your family. Leo hollered at Donnie and Mikey to get you out of there while they covered you, and seconds later, you were all barrelling out of the facility, alarms blaring, guns sounding, men shouting.

Yes, the Mutagen was highly unstable. You couldn't control yourself. And your body, it wasn't done reacting to the ooze.

You didn't know what happened next. You fell unconscious just after escaping. The last thing you can remember is Leo catching you in his arms. Him helping to carry you back home, to the lair. Your new home. You were one of them, now.

Breathing labored, you sat up on the metal table you had been laid on by Donnie. He'd checked your vitals already. Needless to say, so early in your mutation, things were not looking the best. But you would pull through; he was sure of it.

The first face you sas upon waking up was Leo's, worried. His eyes flitted all over you. You hadn't yet seen yourself.

"Y/N," he whispered, hands bracing against the edge of the table. "This...this is my fault," he said.

Donnie scuttled by holding a light and examined your eyes, then asked you to move a bit to see if there were any anomalies such as paralysis. You had some trouble adjusting to your new form, but so far, it wasn't dire.

Everyone came and went, hugging you, saying their piece about how happy they were that you were okay—as okay as you could have been—until Splinter noticed Leo's distress. He told the boys to let you two have a minute alone. Splinter left himself, as well.

The two of you now alone, Leo had a hard time speaking. He couldn't quite find the words to say how sorry he was.

"This isn't your fault," you drawled, still feeling a little loopy from the whole ordeal.

He leaned in, as you couldn't do much beside sit up. "If you hadn't ever gotten involved with us, this would have never happened," he said, lowering his head. "And now you're…"

He paused, and you finished for him, "I'm what? A mutant?" you asked softly. "Leo, I am so lucky to be alive. And it's all thanks to you." He sighed, not believing your words. "They would have killed me, Leo," you added, and took his hands in yours. He looked up at you, blue eyes meeting your own. Had your eye color changed?

"You didn't deserve this," he swallowed.

"Does anyone?"

He stood up. "This happened because I failed, y/n! As a leader, as a friend—"

Not caring about your current state, you slid off the table, landing on your feet with a thud. Your body ached, but you payed it no mind. Leo went rigid as you closed the gap between you two.

Still holding his hands, you told him slowly, "It is not your fault."

Your faces were only a few inches from each other. Unknowing, he gripped your hands. You swore that you could almost hear his heartbeat picking up as you leaned in, lips hovering over his. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but you stopped that thought. "You understand? Not...your...fault…"

His breath hitched when you gently pressed your mouth to his, at first going completely still. But then he closed his eyes, and his arms found their ways around your torso. The kiss was short and gentle, but he was stricken—only when you parted did he whisper a moment later, a new kind of hope inside, "You can live here, with us. You don't have to worry. You shouldn't ever have to worry, y/n."

"I won't worry, Leo," you muttered, letting your head rest on his chest. "Not when you're here with me."

He held you until eventually, everyone filed back in, Splinter smiling warmly at the sight.

[when-they-write-stuff]

So I actually wrote this! I’ve never written dark!Sterek before, but I saw the gifset and couldn’t help myself. I hope you all enjoy <3

THREE DAYS, FOUR HOURS, AND twenty-two minutes. That’s how long the one they called Mieczysław ‘Stiles’ Stilinski had been separated from his pack.

Three days, four hours, and twenty-two minutes. Stiles realized what happened nine minutes after his pack was taken. Therefore, the hunters were unofficially dead at the countdown of three days, four hours, and thirteen minutes.

To Stiles, though, time blurred. It was a stain of colors, a snarl at the back of his throat, and the faintest ringing in his ears that made him feel like he was losing his mind all over again.

Three days, four hours, and twenty-two minutes. It was the longest Stiles had ever been alone.

He was greeted by gunshots first.

At a first glance, Mieczysław was nothing but a boy. A boy who grew up surrounded by wolves, an emissary to a bunch of wild animals. There were rumors about what rested behind the amber of his eyes, but few people chose to believe them. Because he was scrawny, he was human, and it seemed like easy pickings when a group of hunters chose to go after the crumbling pack.

At a first glance, Mieczysław was nothing but a boy. And that that always been the easiest way to lure in unsuspecting prey.

He was greeted by gunshots first. The screams that followed were a welcome sound he hadn’t heard for far too long.

There was something about the smell of gunpowder in the air, the feeling of blood on his fingertips, and the taste of ash in his mouth that made Stiles feel alive. He could be wrapped in the darkest shadows or walking through the heat of a blazing fire and the smile on his face would never waver. At a first glance, he was nothing but a boy. A weakling. But to the hunter watching him tear through their ranks without even blinking, it was like hell had become a place on Earth.

The hunter’s name was Col Henderson. And he hadn’t wanted to take the job in the first place.

Beacon Hills was a shell of what it used to be. At first, Col hadn’t even believed the rumors were true. The rumors saying there was still a werewolf pack patrolling its borders, that is. He’d been hunting since he was old enough to carry a gun and at this point in his life, he wanted a challenge. Something to make him smile when the beast went down; something to make him feel proud when the light faded from the monster’s eyes.

The Hale pack had been fairly easy to round up. Most of them were feral to the point of being wild animals anyway.

It was the emissary that remained elusive.

“A bunch of mutts,” he told the man at his side, listening to the distant sound of snarling wolves from another part of the compound. “Good for nothing but a bullet between the eyes.”

The hunter only grunted, looking tired. And honestly, Col couldn’t blame him. They were all tired. The emissary had yet to come for his pack and they’d been sitting around all day, waiting for something that didn’t seem to exist.

Until the sun touched the tips of the trees, that is. 

That’s when all hell broke loose.

Col first saw him when the compound doors slammed open. He was on his feet in a second, loaded rifle held tightly in his hands. The already dying lights above his head flickered and briefly went out— and when they came back on, a lone figure stood in the compound’s entrance. His head was head tilted slightly and his eyes practically glowed against the faint darkness.

There was a dull spark in them that held nothing but the last remnants of humanity. Humanity that had been clinging to the boy for years now, though that hadn’t mattered for a long time now.

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. One that sent a chill down Col’s spine.

“Emissary,” someone breathed. And Col didn’t even realize the word had come from his mouth until amber eyes fixed on where he stood. The boy raised an eyebrow.

“My pack,” he said. “I want them back.”

There was a loud click as the man next to Col loaded his gun. The emissary’s attention immediately snapped to him and Col almost sagged to the floor, suddenly aware of each breath that he had been holding.

“You're going to give my pack back,” the emissary said again, the smile slipping from his lips. He took a step forward and immediately, every gun was trained on him. The boy paused, eyes flashing, but it didn’t seem to be out of fear. 

No, there was a new look on his face, replacing the amused one that had been there previously.

It was cold and dangerous. The bags under his eyes seemed to darken, holding the exhaustion of each day that he’d been without his pack. Around him, the shadows grew as the softness of his face hardened.

“No?”

In the distance, one of the wolves yelped. Loudly.

And just like that, the spark of humanity in the emissary’s eyes flicked out.

Col had faced a lot of beasts in the past. He’d gone after born wolves and those newly turned. He’d taken down a dozen packs and faced an alpha that nearly ripped him to shreds. Col told his blissfully ignorant friends that he hunted deer and then went home to a list full of names— one of every monster he’d ever killed.

He’d seen a lot over the years. But nothing added up to the boy that stood in front of him, eyes turning to stone as he caught the sound of his feral pack in the distance.

Once more, the lights overhead blinked out. But this time, they didn't turn back on. In a moment, the silence had turned to gunshots, gunshots turned to screams. And dammit, Col hadn’t even wanted to take this job in the first place.

He stumbled back, pulling his walkie from its clip on his belt.

“Backup! We need backup!”

Static was his answer. Col stumbled blindly through the darkness, trying to get as far away from the screams of his fellow hunters as fast as he could. There were things he’d heard about the Hale pack’s emissary, but he’d never imagined any of them were true. In fact, he'd laughed at 'exaggeration of it all.

The job of an emissary was to keep the pack connected to themselves, to their humanity. Col hadn’t thought much of the feral pack they’d put in chains but this boy seemed to be even less human than all of them combined. Less than the alpha who had nearly bitten Col’s head off, less than the betas who had snapped and snarled the entire way to captivity.

In his panic, Col stumbled over his own feet and fell hard to the ground, his gun skidding somewhere across the floor. Suddenly, the lights flicked on and when he looked over his shoulder, all that was left were bodies.

The one they called Mieczysław ‘Stiles’ Stilinski stood among them. His eyes raked over the entire room, not a single emotion on his face. Then, they snapped to where Col had fallen and that smile from earlier tugged at the corners of his mouth once again.

Col shoved himself up and turned, running faster than he ever had into the depths of the compound.

They had come to Beacon Hills with an even number of eighteen hunters. When Col turned the corner, stumbling to a stop as a dozen guns aimed in his direction, there was some part of him that wondered if even double that would be enough.

“Henderson?”

“Don’t shoot, dammit!”

“What the hell are you doing?”

Behind him, the sound of footsteps echoed off the cement floor. Col’s heart skipped a beat and he slowly turned around.

“You took my pack,” the emissary said, turning the corner. “Now I’m gonna take them back.”

Col retreated back behind the line of guns. The emissary’s gaze traveled over them all and his eyes darkened. He took a step forward, ignoring the tightening of every finger around the trigger.

“It’s doesn’t matter how many of there you are,” he said, words almost a snarl. He moved closer— Col started to tremble. “I’m going to kill every single one of you until I find them. Do you understand me?”

“Stand down, boy!”

“Do you understand me? I’ll burn this whole fucking place down if I have to!”

Someone fired. Sparks flew.

Somewhere in the distance, one of the wolves howled.

It happened too quickly. Col scrambled for his spare pistol and a crackle of electricity filled the air. Something was burning, the smell like a sour acid began to fill his nose. Col's eyes burned, his hands were shaking too hard to get a proper hold on his gun as he scrambled back away from the fighting. It was like a nightmare brought to life and when he managed to make himself look back, the sight that awaited him was even worse.

The emissary’s eyes were brighter than fire. The air around him swam with the shadows and his face was so pale, it was like the blood drained right out. Distant howls collided with the chaos in the air and Col momentarily flashed back to his latest kill— a young omega, newly bitten. She’d looked at him like he was the Grim Reaper and it had made him feel powerful. Being the predator always did.

For the first time in his life, Col Henderson knew what it was like to be the prey.

The emissary flicked his wrist and Col slammed up against the nearest wall, losing all ability to breathe as the boy approached. There was something about him. Something darker than night, colder than death. 

“Big bad hunter. Where is my pack?”

Struggling for breath, Col managed to point down the hallway. The boy followed his gaze and then hummed.

“Thank you.”

Three days, four hours, and twenty-two minutes. Stiles had realized what happened to his pack nine minutes after they were taken. Therefore, the hunters were unofficially dead three days, four hours, and thirteen minutes ago.

The clock continued to count— three seconds on the timer. Col looked at the emissary like he was the Grim Reaper.

And at second one, the boy smiled.

-

An emissary’s main job had always been to keep a pack connected to their humanity. However, as a group of bold hunters learned the hard way after capturing a bunch of feral werewolves known as the Hale pack, the one known as Mieczysław ‘Stiles’ Stilinski, barely had any humanity in himself to begin with.

There was a hum under his breath as he released his pack one by one. The betas first and his alpha right after them, whose eyes glowed red as he barely contained a series of whines. The second the chains were off, clawed fingers latched onto Stiles's arms and sharp fangs skated up the side of his neck. Stiles smiled, tracing bloodstained fingers through Derek’s hair.

“It's okay. I'm here now.”

Warm breaths snuffled against his skin. “That was stupid.”

“I know.”

“And dangerous.”

“But so fun.”

Derek drew back, his attention zeroing in on a darkening red patch right underneath Stiles’s shoulder. “You’re bleeding.”

"Only a little."

"Does it hurt?"

“They took my pack,” Stiles said, a dangerous glow in his eyes. “Isn’t a little agony worth it?”

The red of the alpha’s eyes burned even brighter. Derek growled and pulled him into a hungry kiss— one that promised a much more thorough examination later. The man's lips were a little cracked and Stiles could taste blood. Humming at the back of his throat, he kissed Derek harder.

Three days, four hours, and twenty-two minutes. That’s how long the one they called Mieczysław ‘Stiles’ Stilinski had been separated from his pack. The longest he'd ever been alone.

But he wasn't anymore.

They left the bodies as a warning to anyone who dared cross the Hale pack again. 

[glass-frogs-and-dragons]

The Hangman's smile

Fandom: Marvel, LoTR, The Hobbit, The Witcher, Supernatural and BBC Merlin (In case you hadn't realised, this is, in fact, a crossover)

Word count: 1629

Warnings: I mean everyone is dead so Major Character Death ig, mild language too

“Hangman’s smile”

The sign dangled in front of her, creaking in the breeze and tempting her to walk inside; Natasha raised an eyebrow as she tousled her bright red hair, now loose. She didn’t know where she was or how she had arrived in this place; the last thing she remembers was her letting go of Clint’s hand back at Vormir, smiling at him, telling him that it was okay… then nothing. There was an ever-present, dull pain in her neck and head, but she thought nothing of it.

“Are you going to stay there all day or are you planning on coming in?” An irish-accented voice commented from behind her.

She turned around swiftly, grabbing the gun from her holster and pointing it at the stranger, guarding her eyes and almost growling at him before she noticed his appearance: despite the fact that his skin was far greyer than it was supposed to be, the dark eyebags that dented his cheeks and the various bruises, burns and cuts that littered his body, he was quite handsome. He had his hands raised and a gentle smirk on his face, not with the purpose to flirt but with the purpose to reassure.

“Who are you?”

The man chuckled. It should have infuriated her, but for some reason it didn’t.

“You mean now? Or who I used to be?”

“Is there a difference?” 

There is, her mind supplied, sounding far too much like Clint for it to be comfortable. There is and you know it.

“Well, in life I was a knight. Now I’m just another Wanderer of Taverns.”

“In life?” She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you join us inside and find out?” He asked kindly, with just a hint of challenge lacing his voice.

She knew better than to follow a stranger, but she had nothing left to lose anymore and a drink sounded great at that moment, so she followed, albeit warily. She quickly found that the silence and coldness that had reigned outside had been but an illusion, as the minute she stepped inside, a blast of misplaced warmth hit her as heads turned across the room to her direction. 

She scanned everyone quickly, finding a warrior with long auburn hair and a beard looking warily towards her, sat beside three dwarves: one with braided blonde hair, one with long and loose dark brown hair and the last with black hair and streaks of silver. Behind the bar a tall guy in a plaid shirt was smiling fondly at the bartender, a blond much shorter than him who (by the looks of it) would not stop cracking jokes; at another table, a dark-skinned long haired man dressed in full leather armour was chatting with a curly haired man with a kind smile, while occasionally looking behind the bar towards someone she couldn’t see. They were all far paler than any living person was, though the lighting of the tavern somewhat disguised that.

“What’s your name?” The Irish stranger asked kindly and, sensing her reluctance, he added: “Everyone knows everyone’s names here, but we don’t care about the story behind it.”

She took a deep breath and addressed the room, careful of keeping her voice neutral.

“My name is Natasha Romanoff.”

A couple of people nodded at her, the curly-haired man smiling and waving softly, but a familiar drawl made her stop in her tracks.

“My, my, Agent Romanoff. You’re earlier than I expected,”

She clenched her fists and her jaw, her whole body stiffening against the former knight’s, so she couldn’t disguise the flinch when he put a hand on her shoulder and whispered into her ear.

“You know them?”

She nodded dumbly as a bartender dressed in green, gold and black sauntered towards them: their wavy black hair was tied in a loose bun behind their neck with a couple of stray strands falling over their face, their green eyes brimming with mischief and the slightest hint of (dare she say) happiness scanning her approvingly, but what shocked her the most was the light blue tinge of their skin and the hand-shaped bruise that curled around their neck.

“Loki.” She greets with a nod.

The god smirks.

“Miss Romanoff. Welcome to my humble tavern,” They did a flourish as he motioned around them. “Would you like a drink or a deal?”

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk threatening to break through her lips as the knight snorted behind her; she decided to play their game.

“I’ll take a deal.”

“Oh, I was hoping you would say that. Here’s my deal:” They inched closer, a devious smile on their face. “Let me buy you a drink and we can start anew, and in return you give me embarrassing stories of your colleagues.”

Natasha took a deep breath and pretended to think it through, looking carefully at the god for any hidden intentions yet finding none, save for boredom.

“Only if you tell me stories about Thor…” Loki’s eyes lit up in delight and her own softened. “And you call me Natasha.”

Their smile became more gentle as their back straightened.

“Come on then,” They drawled. “I expect you would like a table with our most charming knight,” They winked at the man behind her and he smirked back.

“If there is no other,” She teased, earning an offended gasp from her companion.

“Don’t worry, Natasha,” Her name sounded strange on their tongue. “Gwaine can be a perfect gentleman when he wants to, and when he’s not Lancelot is there to wrangle him.”

A few minutes later, Natasha was sitting between Lancelot and Gwaine and in front of a man who was introduced as Aiden, raising an eyebrow at the more than creative names of the drinks offered:

The Hangman’s smile

Drinks:

Hel Shots

Demonic sour

The Jolly Roger

Ghastly shots

Dead Man’s Head

Molten Freedom

Trickster’s treat

Death in the Afternoon

Fainting Amigo

Deathscape

Pink blood

Ghoul Rush

“Fainting… Amigo?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow, making the god roll their eyes and huff.

“That was probably Gabriel,” Lancelot commented kindly beside her. “His drinks, his rules- as he says.”

Aiden let out a hearty chuckle and ordered a Trickster’s Treat; Nat asked for a Deathscape and Gwaine and Lancelot both chose Molten Freedom.

“Look,” Aiden commented after taking a sip of his drinks. “The dwarfs over there? They are… were part of the Royal Family of Erebor. King Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews Fíli and Kíli- they only ruled a couple of weeks, poor guys. I heard they all left lovers behind.”

The green-eyed man’s tone turned forlorn as he mumbled the word ‘lovers’, something which Nat could not help but noticing; she put a hand on her shoulder and smiled sympathetically. 

“The man beside them,” Continued Lancelot. “Is called Boromir. He was the son of the last Steward of Gondor and was a member of the Fellowship of the Ring; he took three arrows protecting two of his friends. Brave man, that one.”

Natasha frowned, turning towards the Noble Knight. “I thought they were just…”

“Stories?” He finished for her, then chuckled. “We all are, even you. Loki and Gabriel opened this bar between realms, in a place where the best stories end, to welcome strays from every realm to a place where we can be more than what the legends make us out to be.”

Natasha hadn’t noticed how she was holding her breath and tears at Lancelot’s calm explanation. A warm hand on her back made her breathe again, and when she turned to the source, she found Gwaine’s kind smile.

“The man behind the counter,” The long-haired knight continued. “Is another trickster: the former Archangel Gabriel- stabbed by his brother, and the tall guy chatting him up is a monster hunter named Sam Winchester- one of the best that there ever is. He doesn’t stay for long because both he and his brother come back to life every now and again. This time he was killed by a werewolf apparently- the claw marks are still there.”

Strangely enough, as soon as she noticed the large claw-shaped marks on Sam’s abdomen she began noticing strange markings on the others too: Gabriel had a stab wound on his neck, Thorin and Kíli both had a hole in their chest, Fíli’s hair was matted with blood and Aiden had a multitude of bruises that coloured his pale skin and the threat blood beneath his eyepatch.

“And what happened to you?” She asked no-one in particular, yet sensing how the men beside her tensed.

“I gave my life for the kingdom.” Lancelot whispered. “For the kingdom and my closest friend.”

“As did I,” Gwaine smiled without any mirth.

“Far too noble,” Aiden drawled. “I tried to trick the wrong people and they killed me- still bear the mark under the eyepatch.” He turned back to the redhead and propped his head with his hand. “What about you?”

Natasha sighed, noticing subtly that Loki had stopped just within hearing range.

“I sacrificed myself so that my… my best friend could go back to his family.”

“The only reason worth sacrificing oneself for,” Loki smiled at her- a real smile, she noted, and she smiled gratefully back.

The tavern door was slammed open. 

Everyone turned to stare at the man, who just adjusted his suit, almost preening at the attention. 

Natasha gasped; Loki growled.

He twisted his lips into a cocky smirk, and only then did the former spy notice that his arm was completely destroyed.

“Agent Romanoff?” She stood up. He grinned. “We won,”

She allowed a smile to light up her face, only interrupted by a hiss next to her.

“Oh, that son of a-”

[writingsbychlo]

tea parties | dad!mitch rapp

word count; 14,990

summary; emma rapp loves her dad, and she admires the badass CIA agent that he’s trying to suppress his feelings for, so she does a little meddling.

notes; this is a dad mitch fic, featuring the little girl I made up so long ago, and she is a little miss emma rapp. I adore her, she’s fantastic, and you’re going to love her too.

warnings; reference to injury, reference to death, reference to PTSD.

Mitch’s feet were taking slow and steady steps along the corridor, as a pair of irrationally matched footsteps skipped, walked and jumped along beside him, a small hand wrapped tightly around his own as the nerves in his stomach went haywire over the briefing he had up ahead of him, and the hope that it was nothing too dangerous. He knew he never got called in to talk to Irene unless he was going away to do something big, but he was hoping it wasn't the kind of assignment that made him wonder whether he’d be returning on his own two feet, or in a body bag. 

Crouching down before the elevator doors, the room he needed to be in only a few metres away, he faced the little girl before him, tucking some of the small wisps of hair away behind her ear, fishing around in his pocket for one of the glittery snap-clips he made an effort to always have on him, and internally cheering in victory when he found one. 

Sliding it into her hair to keep the shorter pieces out of her face, he brushed the tip of his finger along the bridge of a familiar nose, one she’d inherited from him, and grinning when her face scrunched up in distaste at the ticklish feeling the action gave her. 

“You gonna’ be good for me?”

“I’ll be on my bestest behaviour, daddy, I promise.” She adjusted the bag on her arm, pulling it down for only a second and placing it on the floor, unzipping the little backpack to root through it, before pulling out the item so wanted, brandishing it to him proudly. A plastic ‘nerf’ gun, loaded with foam bullets as at least three dozen more sat loose and rolling around the bottom of the bag, bright orange foam to match the neon green plastic of the toy, and she waved it excitedly in his face. “Mr Stan say’d that he’d help me practice to shoot things.”

“How very exciting.” He teased sweetly, zipping the bag back up and pulling it onto her arms, letting her push her arms through the straps and hold onto the fake gun in her hands with both hands. “Do you know where Stan is?”

“In the gym.”

He nodded, licking over his lips, checking the time on his watch and hurrying himself along. “And how do you get to the gym?”

“Press the button with ‘three’ on and run all the way to the end of the corridor when the door opens.” He scooped her up, standing up to his full height, balancing his daughter on his hip and pressing a kiss to her cheek. She took his face in her hands, his face crushing a little when plastic pressed into one side, but she pulled his head forwards enough to press a kiss to his forehead, seemingly sensing his nerves and returning the gesture he always gave her when she had nightmares or fears. Tipping his head back up, he dropped her down, pushing the button for the elevator and waiting patiently. “How long is your meeting, daddy?”

“Not long, princess, I’ll be there to get you real soon. We’ll have ice cream tonight, yeah?”

She cheered, her hand held out to him and he tapped his palm against hers in a high five, ruffling her hair as the doors dinged open and he was able to push her instead gently, watching as she pushed the button for the right floor and waved to him as she disappeared from sight.

Mitch paused for a second once she was gone, choking down the fear about what may happen to his daughter, reminding himself that she was wandering around the CIA main building, and that his little girl owned the hearts of almost everyone in the building, so there wasn’t a soul that would let anything happen to him. 

Spinning on his heel before he could change his mind and call the elevator back, and instead pacing the few large strides it took him to reach the meeting room, everyone else seemingly gathered, preparing themselves around the table, and he let out a huff at all of them, not even glancing up at the screens housing the powerpoints and presentations he was going to be seeing. Instead, he got himself a coffee, stirring the wooden stick aggressively through the shitty paper cup that did nothing to stop his hand getting burned if he held it too long, and picking up one of the pastries, squeezing it a little in his fingers to test the softness of it, before placing it into his mouth and holding it there with his teeth as he moved over to the seat reserved for him. 

There was already a brown manilla folder laid out for him, his name on top, and he took the pastry from his mouth, tearing off a chunk and chewing it quickly, before taking a swig of his coffee to wash it down with, wincing when the cheap liquid burned his throat. 

“Okay, Mitch, let's just jump right in.”

He looked up, huffing out as he did and wiping flaky crumbs from his shirt, before opening the first page of the folder and almost gagging at what he saw before him. Piles of bodies, all burned, the photograph clearly showing the smoke coming off of the stack of bodies, charred and fleshy, some dismembered and torn apart, battered and bruised, and he pushed the remainder of the croissant away from his as his stomach churned at the sight. 

“Underground ring of paid fighters, human trafficking, drug empire, it’s all rolled into one. Goods are being traded for bets, every single person so far identified from this pile is a missing person, some going as far back as four years, and there were two more piles.” Turning over the following page, Mitch let out a low whistle as he ran his eyes over the list of names attached to people he’d already  They’re working through people quickly, missing people coming up from all over the world, and he sighed out at the thought. “You’re going in undercover, obviously. We know that there must be a huge list of people adding to this web, with such a quick growth rate and being so well known, word of mouth is travelling fast in a criminal chain, and we need to know who the king-pins are. The next event is tomorrow night.”

“You need me to get kidnapped and put into the next fight by tomorrow night?”

Irene scowled at him, motioning for him to turn over the page, his eyes widened as he took in pictures of all the items that had been traded, everything from raw diamond extracts to people, kidnapped children holding the same worth as the deed rights to mansions, bile once again rising up in his throat, paternal possessiveness crawling in his chest and scratching to be released as he ran his fingers gently over the photograph of a young toddler whom he desperately wished was still alive and well. 

Flipping over the next page, he was equally as shocked to find a new set of false identities to add to his collection placed neatly within the pockets of the folder. A passport, a driving licence, a rendered photo of the look he was going for as well as a basic list of everything his new personality would entail. Picking up the piece of plastic that allowed him to drive a car, he scoffed at the name. “How the fuck do I even pronounce this?”

“It’s Polish. You won’t be doing much talking, if any, you just need to listen and place bets. Observe, photograph, be discreet, and find out who our big bosses are here.”

“So, I’m not fighting?”

“In a gladiator-style ring, fighting to the death with opponents who have probably won a lot of matches already? No, Rapp, you’re not a fighter. You’re a buyer.” She insisted, already sounding fed up with him, and he sneered a little at her, before nodding. 

“What am I supposed to take that’s of such high value?” She nodded to one of the interns beside her, a large cardboard box being lifted that he seemed to struggle to pick up, before he was tipping it out across the table, at least twenty neatly wrapped plastic packages spilling out before him, and he couldn't help the laugh that left his lips, before he was looking towards the other three boxes that she was gesturing to. “Where the fuck did you get that much cocaine?”

“Evidence lock up. A truly useful resource.”

He nodded a little, letting her run through the fact that he’d need to be at the runway for six sharp tomorrow morning, and that everything he needed would already be packed, an agent set to sort his outfit and help test him on everything he needed to know would fly over with him, but other than that, he was running solo. It was no more than a few days worth of work, tops, but he still didn’t like the idea of being away from his daughter for almost a week, and so he couldn't stop his moody huffing and puffing to himself once he’d left the room. 

The journey to finding his daughter was short, and yet he was still equally as irritated when he arrived there, searching for the little girl that ever failed to brighten his day, peering into the room through the windows, and spotting her standing beside his mentor in front of the bullet-riddled targets, as promised, her toy gun in her hands as little orange pellets littering the floor. 

Their focus wasn’t on the targets, however, it was a little further off, in the direction of the boxing bags and the sparring rings, but despite how much he craned his head, he couldn't see what they could, and so he was resigned to simply entering the room to actually find out. Pushing the button on the door to release the magnetic locking, the sounds of punching bags being battered, machines running and several voices in different areas field his ears, the room much cooler than the corridor, the air conditioning keeping it so, and a shiver ran down his spine.

The high-pitched cheering that he recognised as his daughter’s voice called out, and he followed the sound of it, making his way over to where the two people he recognised where standing, watching a lesson go down in the boxing ring, and his breath hitched, feeling as though his soul had physically left his body as his daughter stared up at you with rapt awe. For well over a year now, Mitch had cursed the slight trembles that went along his body and the butterflies that filled his stomach when you were around, because he had bigger responsibilities in his world than dealing with the fact that you somehow managed to render him back to being the same nervous wreck he was in high school as soon as a pretty girl walked past, the same Mitch he’d been in sophomore year before getting his braces off and growing out his buzzcut. 

He was used to pretty girls in little clothing, from high school until now, Mitch has been on various sports teams, and while being a  glorified killer for hire now was a little different to playing college lacrosse, he was used to cheerleaders and gymnasts and dancers surrounding him, tight yoga pants and sports bras and pretty eyes with a firm as and a smirk that made his legs weak. He was used to it, and yet somehow, you had more of an effect on him than the others. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that you were by far his superior in the field, or maybe that you were also a terrifying killer that turned him on in some sick way, or maybe it was his lover-boy paternal instinct that flared up every time, because much like everyone else, Emma had you wrapped around her little finger. 

His daughter had spoken to you more than he had, his mind seeming to go blank every time he tried to talk to you, and so he often opted to just ignore you, a trait he was grateful that he could disguise behind the moody and darkened persona he’d built up. It was hard to keep that up, though, when he had to remind himself to close his mouth and stop staring at the way your body moves with grace and elegance in every single extremely well-executed move you used as you continued to take down the two other agents in the out-manned battle while barely breaking a sweat. 

You were incredible. Talented and funny and sweet, while also managing to be brutal and vicious and always successful in a field, every characteristic you had made you perfectly suited for this job, and he was half-convinced Irene had just made you in a lab to work for the CIA.

The first time he’d met you, you were wearing a black tank top and some tight leggings, a look that vaguely reminded him of the Black Widow, and so he’d pegged you as CIA eye-candy, before ever getting a look at your file, and feeling all bt blown away as your record made his look like child's play, his work held up next to your own was the equivalent of holding up one of his daughter's drawings from the fridge door up beside the ‘Mona Lisa’ or ‘Starry Night’. 

He was absolutely certain that you owned a little bit of his heart, even though he refused to acknowledge the jumps in his pulse when you caught his eye, or the way he wanted to reach out and hold your hand every time you got a little too close to him, because he was a grown-ass man, and a father at that, a would have been widower in addition, the little girl he had, having barely even reached the age of one when her mother had died on the holiday Mitch had taken her on to propose, never having gotten to see the event. 

His heart had healed since then, he’d been forced to for his job and for the baby he loved more than anything, but having someone else around to project his feelings onto certainly hadn't hurt. He wasn’t the same man he had been five years ago, though. He was covered with scars and trauma, inside and out, with a chaotic and unpredictable job that many wouldn't understand and he was unable to disclose, and so finding someone else to be with was a hard task that he hadn't had any luck in.

He leaned up against the doorway, watching as his daughter cheered on, grunting a little as she threw her own fists in fake punches, before pulling out his phone for only a moment, taking a short video and catching the sweet moment to save forever, before calling out her name, and watching as her little head whipped around to give him her attention instead.

Little feet were dashing over to him, toy gun discarded with her bag as they leaned against the steps of leading up to the ring, and she launched herself up into the air, faithfully believing he would catch her, barely giving him time to swoop down and grab her, but he managed to. She was energetic and enthusiastic, a trait he recognised from himself, and he adjusted her in his arms, allowing her to crawl across his body like a climbing frame, until he had clambered up onto his shoulders, legs dangling down onto his chest as she held fistfuls of hair he needed or get cut, balancing carefully as he held onto her ankles, a giggle on her lips as he looked out from her new height. 

“I’m bigger than everyone else now.”

“Yes, you are, Em. Are you ready to go?” She gave him a hum in reply, and he crossed the room to his mentor, who was now leaning with his arm folded on the edge of the ring and cheering everyone on, excitedly invested in the match that he was pointedly trying not to look at. Lifting her down from his shoulders, he crouched down to pick up the sparkly unicorn rucksack, putting the gun inside and handing it to her. “Go pick up all your bullets, princess, I’m not buying any more this month if you lose them all.”

“It’s not my fault I can’t find them in the street when we go out!” Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him, and he tapped her nose with the tip of his finger gently. 

“Shouldn’t shoot them out of the window then, should you?” She pouted, grumbling to herself as she made her way over to perform her cleanup duties, and he stood up to his full height, Stan facing him now. “Should only be gone about a week, not too bad, but I hate leaving Em for more than a few nights.”

“If you give me the number of your sitter, I can check in a few times with them.”

“I don’t have one anymore, she quit after the last one, saying Emma was too much for her’ with all the shit she does.” He frowned, remembering the summary that the nanny he’d had previously, saying that she was far too aggressive and imaginative, and that the girl never calmed down for even a second, and that she was simply too much for a person to handle. 

He refused to dampen her spirit, and if nobody else would nurture her than he sure would, because whatever Emma wanted to be then that was her call, she didn’t need to be tamed. She was wild, and enthusiastic, and her mind never stopped working. She was an intelligent girl for her age, and Mitch kept intending to have her tested, but that came right behind getting a new nanny, which he still hadn't had time to do between trying to help her learn to read and write, find a good online school for her to attend, and keep up with his job to pay the bills. 

Nobody said being a single dad was going to be easy. 

“What about her grandparents?” Hurley mumbled, eyes flicking up to the sparring match taking place, before back to him, and Mitch felt his own face screw up. 

“Katrina’s parents haven’t spoken to me since the funeral. They love her, and they send a letter once a year on her birthday that I’m collecting for when she’s old enough to understand them, but that can’t look at her without crying, and they can’t look at me.” Mitch shrugged, the pain of the event that had changed his life feeling nowhere near as aggressive as it once had, no longer ripping agony through his body like searing heat burning him from the inside out, but he still felt a little saddened at the thought of himself being the only family Emma ever had. “I have until tomorrow morning to find someone to look after her, and that doesn’t’ exactly inspire much confidence in my focus if I’m worried about the stranger caring for my baby girl.”

“I’ll do it.”

Mitch felt his breath hitch in his throat, a shadow falling over both of the men, before you were dropping down and feeding your legs through the elastic bands, leaning against them and reaching for your water bottle. You were panting front he exertion, skin shining a little from sweat, and somehow you still managed to look radiant, rendering Mitch barely able to catch his breath as you licked a stray drop of water from your lower lip and smiled at him. 

“You need someone to look after Emma, right?”

“Uh, yeah.. that’s, um, yeah.”

“Well, I’m more than happy to do it.” You shrugged, and Stan clapped you on the shoulder, seeming satisfied with the solution, said little girl seeming to choose this moment to come back over, wrapping her arms around one of his legs as she rested a cheek against his thigh, and he dropped a hand down to brush through her hair comfortingly as she waited patiently. “I know your job, and I know your daughter. I’m good with kids, and I have a guest room, I’m more than happy to do it.”

You were staring at him expectantly, and everything within him seemed to go into panic mode, his eyes flicking between you, his daughter and Hurley. Emma was peering up at him, a sweet little face that was mostly confused, but totally happy to just wait for her dad to be ready, while you were narrowing your eyes a little as him as the time dragged on, his throat feeling dry, even drier when he noticed the scrutinising gaze Stan was giving him as he gaped like a fish. Swallowing thickly and licking over his lips, he fixed you with a smile, nodding his head and looking back down.

“What do you think, Em? You want to stay with (Y/N) for a few days while daddy goes away to fight some bad guys.”

She rubbed at her chin, making both you and Stan laugh at her gesture, before she was leaning in a little closer to you, voice coming out like a whisper. “Do you like spaghetti hoops?”

“I do.” You had whispered back, her face lighting up, the craze she’d been so attached to lately of the pasta circles in a tomato-y sauce seeming to seal the deal as she nodded rapidly. “Here, give me a minute to write down my number and address, and you can swing by later tonight, I’ll get everything set up when I get home.” 

Mitch once again felt useless as he simply nodded, watching as you slipped out below the elastic ropes and found your bag, searching through for a pen, but not finding any paper. Instead, you pulled the cap off with your teeth, reaching for his arm and pushing up his sleeve, scrawling your number onto his skin, and tapping it with a triumphant sound when you were done. 

“There! Just give me a text later, and I’ll send you my address, and we can sort everything out.”

He finally managed to find words, promising he would do so, giving you a simple thank you and mustering what he hoped was a smile and not a nervous grimace, before Emma was wrapping her hand in his, and pulling him towards the door, yelling her goodbyes over her shoulder as she reminded him that he had promised her ice cream.

The entire evening had felt like a blur to Mitch, like at some point he was going to wake up cursing himself for having a dream about getting your address and number all in one night, that he was going to see you outside of work for the first time in his life. It was a thrill, an adrenaline rush of fear and excitement all in one. Personal lives in the line of work you both shared were something to be kept sacred, protecting your secrets and guarding them to your chest, and to be so easily welcomed into yours meant you trusted him, but he wasn’t sure what he was ready to find. Would you be wearing a wedding band on your own time? Did you have pictures up with a boyfriend or girlfriend, or were you in fact, the opposite of everything he thought you to be. 

He had absolutely no idea, his breath practically held in his throat as he rapped his knuckles against the door in a few swift knocks, hands place don his daughter’s shoulders as she rolled on the balls of her feet, far more laid back about it all, only having the excitement part of his fear and excitement bundle. 

Swinging the door open, you somehow managed to look exactly the same and entirely different all in one. The usual tight ponytail you wore was gone, your hair falling freely around your shoulders, a ripple in it from where the elastic had held it, and your face was free of makeup or sweat and dirt, leaving you looking raw and natural, a softer edge to your appearance. You were clearly in your relaxing mode, he’d only ever seen you in one of two looks; business formal with pencil skirts and blazers and an officiality to your gaze that made him nervous or in gym gear as you kept your world-class abilities up to spec through rigorous training.

You were wearing a hoodie, and a pair of cycle shorts, socks that were reaching just over your knees covered half of your legs, and he cursed under his breath when you crouched over a little, the hem of you hoodie covering the shorts altogether and sending his mind spinning into a series of fantasies and wonderings that he absolutely could not get caught up in.

“Hey there, Emma.” She threw her arms around your neck, letting you hug her back a little as you fell down to your knees from the impact, struggling to wrap your arms around her and her beloved backpack before she was moving from your arms again, and peering around you into your apartment curiously, but never stepping over the threshold. He all but preened with pride as he watched his daughter look up at you, blinking sweetly as she waited to be invited inside instead of just barging into your house, the manners he’d been working on with her for almost a year clearly beginning to take effect. “You wanna’ come in and put your bag down? The couch is right through there.” 

She buzzed past you the second you’d spoken the words, squealing with glee as she entered the new place she’d be exploring, and he managed to still his erratically beating heart, taming it down to a simple rhythm, and offering your hand to you to help you up from your crushed position to standing up again.

“Hey, Mitch.”

“Hey. I’m sorry about before, I just got caught off-guard that anyone would be willing to take her, you totally saved me on that, though.” He had practised the words in his head for the entire ride over here, his fingers flexing a little around the handles of the bag he held, filled with enough things to take care of Emma for a week. You only opened the door wider for him, inviting him inside, and he took a couple of steps forwards, the trained assassin in him immediately wanting to take in the environment, memorise everything in case he ever needed the knowledge. There was that one small part of him, however, that was searching for anything that might help him turn his feelings for you down, mute them a little, anything to make you seem a little less perfect in his eyes, but he couldn't find even a trace. “You, um, said you had a spare room? I can put Emma’s stuff away before I go, so you don’t have to unpack it.”

“Oh! Yeah, ‘course, my bad.” You took a step towards the living room, letting him call out to the young girl, who had already tipped out the contents of her toy bag onto the floor, and he cringed a little at the mess that had gathered up. “I wasn’t sure if she was scared of the dark, or anything, With a badass dad like you, I don’t imagine she’s scared of much, but kids are kids, right? I picked up a couple of night light things on my way home, and put them in the sockets around the house, in case she decided to get up in the night, or anything.”

“She’s a pretty heavy sleeper, she doesn't really wake up unless she has a nightmare, in which they’ll definitely help.”

Only a second later, Emma was barrelling into his side, knocking the breath from him as he staggered a little, her body practically bouncing as she weaved between his legs, and he scowled, shaking his he'd a little at her, but knowing he only had himself or blame for her sugar rush, having treated her to far more ice cream earlier than he should have. 

It was a simple room - as guests rooms go, but Emma seemed to love it, unzipping her bag and ragging out her favourite blanket to spread over the bedsheets front he second that it had been released, a ‘Frozen’ blanket covering the white bedding in all the spots it reached, looking more like a misplace square in the middle of the large bed, and she star-fished across the centre of it as he busied himself with unpacking her clothes into the drawers, all the lower ones that she could reach, and making sure she could see where he’d put everything for her. 

“I have a big bed now, like yours, daddy.” She was more than contented, and Mitch sat down beside her, watching as he rolled onto her stomach, before crawling over to take a seat in his lap, smiling up at you widely as you leaned against the wall and watched the two have their moment. “Do you have a big bed, too?”

“I have the biggest bed, ever! I could fit, like, seven Emma’s in it?”

She giggled as you stepped over, tickling at her sides a little, and he caught a whiff of the sweet shampoo you must’ve used only recently, the essence of coconuts and mangoes drifting into the air at your close proximity. “Only seven? Daddy’s bed could fit eight!”

“No way, that’s totally impossible!”

“It’s way possible!” She shouted, her voice echoing in his ear as he winced at the volume, but it didn’t dampen the smile on her face as he watched the two of you laugh together like it had been the funniest joke in the world. “Can I show you my dolls? I have to get them ready first, though.”

“Well, I will wait right here until they're ready, then!”

She squirmed in his arms, and he let her go, leaving just the two of you, and you took a seat beside him on the bed, bumping your shoulder to his for only as second, and it was still enough to make his heart skip a beat. 

“She’ll be totally okay, Mitch. I promise, I won’t let anything happen to her, she’ll have a great time.” Your words soothed him a little, the familiar sense of feeling like his throat was closing up every time he had to leave the most precious thing in his life, but he felt a little more reassured by your voice and your statement. 

“I know she will, I trust you.”

The words meant more to him than you knew, it was hard for him to trust people but for whatever reason it was, he trusted you with everything he had, before reaching for the bag, still a few items laying in it. 

“This is her teddy, she’s going to insist she’s a big girl and doesn’t need it because she wants to impress you, but she can’t sleep without it. Also, I wrote down some stuff in this notebook for you, as well as the emergency numbers for her doctor, and such. If you need it, her allergies are in here too, and just some information you might need..” You took it from him, the teddy sitting in your lap as you flicked through the notebook, grinning a little as you settled on one page. 

“Favourite pizza toppings; chicken and sweetcorn?”

He shrugged, grinning a little as heat flooded his cheeks, but you brushed your fingers over the pages, nibbling on your lower lip as you read some of the words he’d scribbled down, and his eyes were drawn into the action. You were talking, he could tell because your lips were moving, and he had to tear his eyes up from your mouth before you caught him staring, and when he managed to tune back in, he was grateful to hear you were just reading aloud, and weren’t saying anything important that he’d missed. 

Emma was calling you through, claiming the doll show to be ready, and he couldn't help but be happy that she had settled in so quickly, making him all that much more confident and secure in leaving her here with you for the time he was away. He followed after you dumbly as you carried the notebook away, placing it on the kitchen counter as you passed by, before he could see his daughter, kneeling on the floor and positioning her toys, the row of dolls lined up along the edge of the coffee table.

“Em, I have to go now, are you going to come say goodbye?”

She turned to look at him, her smile falling away for only a moment, before a smaller one was taking its place guilt clawing at his insides as he watched her stand up and wobble her way over to him on shaky little legs, before lifting her arms up for him to lift her into his arms. 

Her little arms wrapped around his neck, legs sealing to his waist as she buried her face into his neck, cheek pressed to his shoulder, short little puffs of breath washing over his skin, and Mitch buried his nose in his daughter's hair, hearing you leave the room to give them their space, a nation that he appreciated from you as he felt tears burn behind his eyes. 

“Miss you ‘ready, daddy.”

Her words were muffled by the way she was positioned, a breathy laugh leaving him as he nodded, peppering the expanse of the side of her head and face that he could reach with little kisses. “I’m gonna’ miss you a whole bunch, princess, but I’ll be back real soon, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

“You’re going to be good, right?”

“The best, I swears it.” She pulled back, holding out one of her pinkies for him, and he adjusted her to rest her weight on the forearm wrapped under her legs, before linking his pinky with hers, and kissing their joined hands. 

“That's my good girl, now you can go and play.”

She was happy to be let back down to the floor, and you reappeared, giving him a gentle smile before walking him the door, dread and anticipation filling him as he turned back to look at his little girl, waving when she looked up at him, pausing her playing. 

“I’ll be as quick as I can, and thank you so much for doing this.”

“Any time, really, I don’t mind even one bit.” Your words were honest and true, making him feel a little reassured, before he could hear the scuffling of socks on the carpet as Emma appeared behind you, tugging on your hand before raising her arms a little, mailing when you picked her up. Balancing her on your hip, she rested her head on your shoulder, holding on with one hand and reaching out a flat palm towards him, wiggling her fingers the best way she knew how to.

It was far too domestic, the way the two of you already had a dynamic that was intimate and sweet, his breath getting caught in his lungs as he looked at the pair of you, his imagination spiralling to places he didn’t have time to go to right now, but he knew would creep up on him later when he was on the plane. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the top of his daughter's head, and suppressing the urge to look up and brush his lips to your own, settling for a simple nod, before swallowing thickly as he tried to force himself to move away from you both.

“I heard someone’s favourite pizza toppings were chicken and sweetcorn. How about we go inside and have a little look for some takeout places, yeah? You want pizza?”

You looked up at him for the approval, the distraction he was grateful for as his daughter’s wide eyes finally left him, because if she had stared for much longer he may have broken down entirely and stayed, but now it was easier. The spell was broken as he stepped away, mumbling a final goodbye to you both, before watching as the door closed, your smile and Emma’s wave to see him off, before he was able to release his breath, snap himself out of it, and walk away.

The second he’d landed, he was out of the plane and into the car, snatching up his bag and leaving the runway, encouraging the man sent to pick him up to speed up a little as he headed back towards the main building from the airport. He had to debrief, but it was a quick thing to accomplish, most of the work being documents online that could easily be completed and submitted as he wrote up a report of what happened, but more importantly, he’d have his daughter back by then.

The car seemed like it was only getting slower and slower, despite the fact that he knew it wasn’t, and as they finally pulled up into the parking lot, his stomach finally being able to unknot and relax as he saw his daughter, her hand linked through Stan’s as the man held a face like thunder - as usual - while Emma talked his ear off, uncaring of whether he wanted to hear the words or not.

From the moment he had the door open, he could hear her racing forward to meet him, and Mitch dropped down to his knees to catch his daughter’s body as she hurled herself into him, a collision that knocked the breath from his lungs, but he clung to her tightly. Little arms wrapped around his neck as he sealed his own around her little frame, one hand cupping the back of her head, smoothing her hair down as she gave him a tight hug, before pulling back and holding his face in her hands, scrunching up her face as she pressed a kiss to the end of his nose. 

“You’re home!”

“I’m home, for a long time, too, I hope.” He glanced up at Stan, who was pulling out a cigarette from the box behind him, standing back from Emma now that he could smoke without her being too close, and lighting up the death stick in his mouth, making sure to blow the smoke up above his head, just in case. Looking down at his daughter, his brows furrowed at the sparkly blue and pink tutu around her waist, layers of netting sticking out with gems and sequins sewn along the waistline, it was a real eyesore, and exactly the kind of thing a child would adore. “I’ve never seen this one before, where did you get it?”

He picked his girl up, balancing her across his front as he stood up to his full height, and taking his bag with him. “(Y/N) bought it for me! I wanted to play princesses, but I didn't have my dresses. She let out a sigh, smoothing little hands over the netting to press it down, before it was popping up again a moment later, and she seemed satisfied with whatever actions she’d taken. 

“And where is (Y/N)?”

Emma simply shrugged, choosing to busy herself with taking fistfuls of his hair and running her fingers through it before patting it down, and his attention moved to Stan, watching as he smoked quietly and watched the scene. “I took over looking after Emma this morning, she got a call in the middle of the night from Irene, a lead on her big case that she thought had gone cold last year. Popped back up, a sudden occurrence. She wasn’t going to go, but she had to, we both knew it.”

Mitch could only nod, knowing how hard you’d worked on that case, and how much it really did need to be closed, and his heart warmed at the fact you would give it all up to care for Emma, but he completely understood. It didn't stop the spark of disappointment that shot through him when he realised he wouldn’t get a chance to thank you personally, however, because he’d been particularly hoping that he would be functional enough to maybe try and string some words together, and ask if he could repay you by taking you out to dinner.

His confidence was already draining from him, the adrenaline and victory high he’d been on that had spurred the idea on the first place was melting away, and he sighed out a little, not knowing when the next time he’d get to see you would be. 

“Shame, would’ve been nice to see her.” He cleared his throat as Hurley’s eyes narrowed on him for the comment, and he shrugged his free shoulder. “Thank her for looking after Em, check how it all went, you know.”

“Uh-huh.” The man didn’t seem to believe him, but he didn't comment on it, instead dropping the butt of the cig to the floor and stomping it out, before opening the back of his car with a click of his car keys, the bags he had dropped his daughter off with were sitting in the back. “Well she’s gone by now, but I have Emma’s stuff for you, now get in the car so I can take you both home. There’s a reason I didn’t have my own children, y’know.”

Mitch scowled at him, glancing at his daughter, who seemed to know exactly what he meant and was uncaring as she grinned wickedly at Stan, who glared back equally at the girl, before offering her a smile. 

“C’mon, Emma, I’m not moving your car seat from the front, your dad can ride in the back.”

She clapped her hands with a loud squeal, before squirming from his arms and into Stan’s, letting him toss his bag in the back and slam the trunk shut, before clambering into the back seat as his superior started up the car.

It was two months before Mitch got to see you again, and he worried for you every single day because of it. Emma would not stop asking about you, she’d spent at least the entirety of the first month telling him about everything the two of you had gotten up to over your time spent together on repeat, until he felt like he could tell the stories himself. 

Emma had decided that her latest obsessions had moved on from playing house to holding tea parties, her dollies no longer being her children but instead being her guests, and the backpack carrying plastic guns and princess crowns had been swapped out for a miniature briefcase with a portable tea set, one that flipped over to make a table for her to sit at. The entire set had cost him over a hundred dollars, and he was absolutely certain that he could have constructed himself a better one for ten dollars and a trip to target, but he didn’t have the time for that. 

Emma had taken to setting up the table beside the ring, the boxing back, or the equipment that he was working on whenever he came to the gym, Irene beginning to get at him to find a new nanny so that no children were wandering around the building anymore, but he had seen her accept a fake plastic cup on multiple occasions, and even once caught her letting Emma label files with the label maker in her office, so he wasn’t taking the threat all that seriously. 

Other agents had chipped in too, because they didn't have the willpower to resist a four-year-old with pigtails blinking up at them, wide-eyed with a pout as she holds a painted plastic teapot and an empty plastic mug to match. No matter how frequently her attention was taken away - a fact he was entirely grateful for, because he had no idea how to attend a ‘tea party’ - for a split second, her questions always came down to when you’d be back, and Mitch was beginning to lose his mind a little bit, running out of excuses.

He was pounding away on a punching bag, his daughter sitting beside him and singing a little tune to herself in the almost empty gym as she occasionally offered him ‘sips of tea’ from the empty cup, before Stan was bursting in through the doors with extreme force and speed, and Mitch’s stomach twisted at the idea that he was either about to get bollocked, or given an assignment.

Pulling up the edge of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, he placed a hand flat on the sandbag to bring it's swinging to a stop. 

It wasn’t him that Stan was looking for, though, it was Emma. He offered the girl a smile, an expression reserved for her and her only, as she spun around to him, thrusting a teacup into his hand as he came to a stop and crouched before her. “I have a surprise for you, kiddo.”

“You do?” He nodded, and she squealed excitedly, pulling a doll away from one of the seats on the floor by its foot, tossing it to the side in a way that Mitch had certainly done with actual people, a smirk flicking at his lips as the slightly macabre thought of ‘like father, like daughter’ flickered across his mind, watching as she falsely filled Stan’s cup up with tea. “What is the surprise, Mr Stan?”

She sounded exasperated already, and both of them chuckled at her strained voice as she all but bounced on her feet. “Guess who’s back?”

Mitch felt his own heart skip a beat, licking over his lips and trying to control himself from jumping into the conversation, choosing instead to unwrap his hands of his boxing tape slowly, pretending like he wasn’t quite as invested in this news as he actually was. Stan confirmed Emma’s guess when she finally reached your name, coming third in her guesses behind Scooby-Doo and Princess Sofia, and he wasn’t sure when either of the fictional characters had gone missing, but apparently, in her mind, they were a dire missing person’s case.

He only had to wait around five minutes, before he caught glimpses of you going along, two interns following behind you, a whirl of beauty and grace, before you were entering the gym, dead set on making your way towards the lockers and showers.

He could see you more clearly now, anger on your face as blood and dirt covered you almost from head to toe, and you still managed to look beautiful. One of the junior agents following behind you was holding up a phone, microphone pointed towards you as you spoke, listing off every detail of the case that you possibly could, as the other held out a packet of antiseptic wipes and a plastic bag, each time you fingers plucked another one from the packet to scrub at your skin, the old one being collected. 

With a black eye and a bust lip, he still thought that you looked beautiful, the stunning hair and makeup up-do that you must’ve had done was completely destroyed, but the silk gown hugging your body seemed almost intact, save for the blood spatters and dirt, and you ran your fingers through your hair, pulling out the clips holding it up and teasing the knots in the strands.

Every further look he took, you seemed more and more exhausted and battered, the bruises on your arms a chest obvious to him now, the scratches and cuts that were inflamed and red, poorly patched up with in the field medical supplies, a miss matching collection of band-aids and gauze, and Mitch almost had to cover his daughter's ears as he realised just how many curse words and language he wasn’t ready from her to hear yet were spilling from her mouth, but you beat him to it, mouth snapping shut. 

You’d looked around now, noticing the three of them in the corner, and came to a full halt, a deep sigh leaving you as you met Emma’s eyes, his daughter staring up at you in awe and wonder. Lifting a hand, you waved your fingers at her in a sweet wave, dismissing the two agents who were quick to scurry away. You kicked off your heels, leaving them discarded on the floor as you unstrapped a gun from your thigh, dropping it and the holster to the floor, before holding your arms out to her.

“Princess, be careful! (Y/N) is-”

He cringed, words a little too late as he watched Emma barrel herself into you, almost knocked flat on your back as you caught her in your kneeled position, and he heard the breath forced from your lungs as a whine. 

“Injured. She’s injured, Em, just like daddy sometimes is when he comes home. We have to be gentle, remember?” She simply nodded, pulling back a little with a soft apology under her breath, and you brushed her hair back, pinching her cheek and letting her take your hand as you stood back up. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve been waiting to see this little cutie again for months, anyway.” You brushed it off, but he could hear the tiredness in your voice and see the slight wobble as you studio up, swaying despite not moving and walking, and he worried a little more for you. Stan placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, wishing you a congratulations before following in the direction that the other agents had gone, and leaving the three of you alone in the room. Emma took her hand from yours, pulling off her trainers to place her tiny feet into your heels, trying to balance and shuffle forwards, and you reached a hand out to steady yourself on his shoulder, shaking your head clear a little bit. “I haven’t slept for, like, three days. I’m exhausted.”

“Well, you still look nice. Beautiful, really. You look great.”

You raised your brows at him for a second, looking down at yourself and taking it all in, before a soft laugh was leaving your lips. “I look a mess, but I do appreciate the confidence boost.” 

He joined in with your laughs, his heart feeling completely full, and he swallowed thickly to try and choke down his anxiety. You both turned to watch Emma shuffle around, taking tiny steps as she found her rhythm in your heels, looking adorable as she carried around a teacup in one hand and two massively oversized heels in the other.

“Will you stay for tea with us?”

“Oh, Em, I think (Y/N) is probably a bit tired tonight, mayb-”

You squeezed his shoulder, his head cutting to turn to you, and you shook your head at him a little bit. “I would love to, Emmy. Did you make the tea yourself?”

She gasped, nodding excitedly as she abandoned her heels and dashed over to the table again, finding another cup and setting you a place, getting lost in her own world as she listed off the different kind of teas she ‘had’, the list sounding exactly like the aisles at Walmart she’d forced him to stand in for thirty minutes as she memorised them three days ago. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, totally. Why don’t you go shower up, and then when you get back, you can drive me home, because I’m pretty sure I’ll fall asleep behind the wheel if I drive.”

He grinned, ducking his head for only a second, before confirming that he would. “I won’t be long. Promise.”

The next few weeks felt like a slow slide turning into an avalanche, like he’d been slipping on his feet a little for the past few years and was no tumbling like a cartoon down a snowy mountainside, becoming an ever-growing snowball before the brick wall he was bound to hit into sooner or later.

He had been perfectly capable of keeping his feelings under wraps while you barely interacted, greeting one another in the corridor when he was able to pass with simple grunts and on syllable responses, but now you talked. He had somehow managed to make a friend of you, your smiling face every time he passed you by making him feel like he was heating up from the inside, fire bursting from his fingertips anytime, and he wondered if he looked as red in the face as he felt each time.

Mitch could now confirm that without a doubt, he was head over heels in love with you, and you had absolutely no idea. At this point, he didn’t really have anything left within himself to even chastise his heart for making this decision against logic and reason’s advisement, because you were absolutely everything he needed. He never had to lie to you about where he was, or what he was doing, and when he'd had a particularly rough day or assignment, you understood what he needed, sitting with him quietly and swapping the coffee that made him jittery out for a calming camomile tea. You loved his daughter, and she loved you, and you’d managed to support him along his single-fatherhood like nobody else had, making everything seem a little bit easier, because he had a friend to go through it with. 

You were always willing to offer a helping hand, a comforting comment or a funny joke to cheer him up, and you’d never said no at the chance of seeing Emma. Said little girl had attached herself to you like a barnacle, wanting to spend as much time with you as she possibly could, and it was both a blessing and a curse for him. On the one hand, any time you were around, Emma didn’t want his mediocre guest skills, because as it had turned out, you were an excellent tea pastry guest. You had the popped up little pinky, and the small talk to match, and you’d even somehow found a set of saucers that match the pattern to give to her when her fifth birthday had passed by. The problem was, when you were sitting on the gym floor and drinking fake tea with his little girl, his concentration was anywhere but the sparring matches and boxing bags, and he often found himself on his back and pinned to the floor by recruits, or being smacked in the face by a bag that swung back at him with force. 

His body and face were constantly littered with healing bruises, and there was no chance that Emma was ever going to take her sights off of you, because she had decided that you were her new role model, his chest aching at the thought that he couldn't provide a mother figure for his daughter, that she was growing up and scrabbling to learn front the women around her.

He thought it was adorable that she’d started wearing her dresses more, just so she could tuck her nerf gun into the waistband of her leggings in claims that she wanted to match the way wore your gun under your dress too, or the way she’d started trying to tie her own hair up in the same style you did, but she needed more.

She needed someone to teach her how to paint her nails when she was older and help her pick out an outfit for prom, and to teach her about the women’s side of things, because Mitch still didn’t understand the difference between pads with wings and the ones without, and at what age you’re supposed to move onto tampons, and why a skincare routine needed to be so intense, and what the fuck purple shampoo was, and he didn’t know what to do about it all.

Most of all, he was just glad to have someone back in his life that didn’t bark orders at him or rely on him. Emma was a handful, and he loved her with all of his heart, and Stan was a good enough friend but still a tough superior, and he hadn't had a friend of his own in years, and sometimes, when he finally got to sit down on his couch with a cold beer in hand after putting Emma to bed and having some time to himself, he let his mind wander. 

He’d daydream about having someone with him, having you with him, having a friend to talk to. He was lonely in the nights, and when the bed felt cold, and when he never had anyone to share his thoughts with that Emma wasn’t old enough to understand. Being closed off had always helped him, because his number one priority always had been and always would be his daughter, he didn’t want anyone coming into his life that she may not like or that may hurt her, and yet Emma had chosen you all on her own. She had seen you, picked you out by hand and decided that you were everything she wanted to be when she grew up, and he couldn't blame her in the slightest, because he couldn't imagine a better role model. 

All of thee thoughts seemed to come spilling over one day when he had intended to say a simple thank you, catching you just before you’d moved away to hit the showers, while Emma was still built giggling with Stan as he helped her fire her latest new child-friendly firearm addition at the newest targets, one of the interns moving around with a bullseye on his chest as she shot foam bullets at him.

“I just wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?” You were a little bit breathless and sweaty, and you were licking your lips on repeat as you tried to get them to stay wet after your intense workout, and his mind was short-circuiting a little bit.

“Everything. Lately.” He barely even paused for breath, before his mouth was continuing without his mind's approval. “I know you have no obligation to us, or to my Em, but she looks up to you, she adores you, and I think it’s good for her to have a mom-type role.” His eyes widened as you laughed a little, and he felt like he was choking on his own tongue as he tried to figure out how to backpedal from that statement. “Oh, God, not that you are her mom, y’know, just that she has a female role-model, because she needs it, I can’t imagine anyone better for her to want to aspire to be like than you, you're an incredible influence!”

With a hand on his arm, you cut off his rambling, and his ears were ringing with the pressure slamming about inside his head, the internal loop of his thoughts now just have become a loud screaming that accurately represented how he felt. 

Your lips were pursed together now as you tried to hold in a grin, your thumb rubbing over his bicep in what he was sure was supposed to be a comforting motion but was actually just driving him more and more insane, the domesticity of the sweet actions meant he was definitely reading a little to far into them, but he didn’t care, because he was taking a deep breath as he tried to calm himself down, matching the rise and fall of his shoulders with yours, until subconsciously, he was able to relax once again.

“I always kinda’ wanted a kid, but in this line of work, you don’t really get the chance to meet anyone, never mind meet anyone that wants kids themselves, so I’m glad she’s taken an attachment to me.” You seemed to panic a little at your own words there, his lips flicking up at the sides, in knowing he wasn’t the only one struggling with his words right now. “I’m not trying to steal your baby Mitch, I just love her to bits, and I’m more than happy spending time with her. She’s an amazing little girl, and you’ve done such a good job raising her. You are a fantastic father, Mitch.”

He took a moment to wonder if ‘heart eyes’ were a real thing, or whether there were little birds flying around his head, maybe a massive neon sign above him that simply read ‘I am so fucking in love with you that it hurts’, because that is how he felt, hearing you compliment his parenting abilities, his daughter and their family all in one. His voice felt hoarse as he tried to speak, coughing a little to clear it, but unable to tear his gaze away from yours as he spoke the raspy words, voice cracking a little; “Thank you.”

“I’m going to go wash up, alright?”

He could only nod, his eyes widening to the size of golf balls when your hand slipped up from his arm, across his shoulder and to his cheek, before your lips were pressing to the other, brushing smoothly over rough stubble in a soft peck, before turning away from him and disappearing before his very sight behind the set of double doors leading to the shower rooms. He knew his face was red this time, knew that he was absolutely shocked as he felt like he was going to combust at any moment, whilst also wanting nothing more than to let his weak knees give way so that he could collapse down into the cold floor until his instincts were no longer in overdrive. 

Turning around, he was even more mortified to find Emma balanced on Hurley’s hip, watching with a grin as his mentor stared at him with a wide and knowing smirk. 

“Daddy and (Y/N) sittin’ in a tree!”

He fixed his daughter with a stern look, taking a step over, and dread filled him when his boss chuckled, before taking a deep breath, and he already knew what was coming next, the two of them chanting the rhyme together;

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

People began to look over at them from the sheer volume of the combined voices, and he snatched his daughter away, scowling at his mentor as he did. He was an assassin, for fuck’s sake, he didn’t have to listen to this shit. Once he knew she wouldn't see it, Mitch was holding his finger up to flip off the older man, before ducking down to scoop up his daughter’s things, and fleeing from the gym before he had to listen to any more of Stan’s teasing, the now knowing for sure that Mitch had one very big weak spot.

That moment had been the result of over a month’s worth of teasing since, smirks in his direction anytime you were within Mitch’s general presence, and like some high school chain of gossip, Stan had passed the information onto Irene, who had told her IT guy and her personal assistant, and he wasn’t sure how many other people knew by now, but it had to be at least half of the people he ever interacted with. Which was a fair fucking amount. 

Now, he really did feel like a high schooler with a crush all over again.

He was actively trying not to think about it, instead watching Emma colour in one of the tigers in her colouring book with a green crayon and blue stripes, red eyes that were a little bit haunting in his opinion, when the door knocked quietly and repetitively, and they both froze up a little. Emma was out of her chair like a dash, though, racing toward the front door before he could stop her, and Mitch felt his heart rise up in his throat as she reached for the handle, swinging it open to the unknown arrival and possible threat, before his breath was hitching in his throat.

He wasn’t sure if he was nervous, elated, confused, or a mixture of all three at seeing you standing on his doorstep. A pair of jeans and a baggy jumper, you hair sitting naturally instead of pulled back tightly once again, but this time you wore a little bit of makeup, and you looked softer than he’d ever seen you, possibly even passing for a simple civilian, covered from being a top-secret agent of the highest calibre for just one night. 

“Uh, hi?”

He hated the way his word came out, wishing he’d managed to sound more welcoming, but instead he’d managed to sound on edge and crass, your brows furrowing a little as you looked at him, before shaking your head fondly. “This was Emmy’s doing, wasn’t it?”

“What is this, exactly?”

You opened your mouth to reply, before the girl he’d been trying to hold behind him damaged to break free, a high-pitched yell on her lips as she wrapped her arms around your legs, crushing her face into her stomach as she laughed excitedly. “You came! You really came over!”

You crouched down when she pulled away, a smile on your lips, but it didn’t reach your eyes, and Emma placed her hands on your shoulders when you were at her height. “You have been lying and keeping secrets, little missy!” You tickled at her sides lightly, and she crumpled into laughter, before you were continuing. “Your daddy did not invite me over for dinner, did he? You can’t just go around inviting people to dinner!”

“I didn’t lie! Or keep secrets, swearsies!” She stuck her pinky out in your direction, and you didn’t accept it immediately, making her sigh over-dramatically. “Daddy says surprises don’t count as lying if it’s a good surprise, and I know you’re his friend and playdates are always fun and I wanted to surprise him.”

He knew she was trying to whisper, but wasn’t doing an excellent job of it, and he felt his frown slipping away, instead smoothing a hand over her hair to draw her attention up to him. “You’d better go and set an extra place at the table, Em. Clear away your drawings, and later, me and you and going to talk about inviting people over to the house without my permission, okay?”

She frowned, her entire face screwing up with the motion, but she nodded nonetheless, and you shifted to show the tote bag that was tucked under your arm, before pulling out a green bottle, a fancy label on the front as you handed it over to her, Emma’s face lighting up as he dashed inside with the gift.

“Did you just give my daughter a bottle of wine?”

You gasped, standing up to your full height before him, shaking your head fervently. “Of course not! I gave her an old wine bottle filled up with sparkling grape soda so she can feel all grown up!”

“You did all that just for Emma’s impromptu dinner party?” You shuffled from foot to foot, nodding a little, and he felt his heart melt as an entirely new side of you shone through, a new you that was different to the confident and bold woman he knew while on duty, and leaving him with a slightly anxious sweetheart in an oversized jumper. “That’s fucking adorable, you know that, right?”

“I’m not adorable.” You mumbled, and he laughed, reaching out to pinch your cheek before you swatted it away, and the energy between you both felt completely different. He wasn’t nervous with the real you, he was only nervous with the work you. This side of you put him at ease, this side of you made him feel comfortable and relaxed, and he didn’t feel his heart try to burst out of his chest too hard when you smiled back at him this time. “Are you sure you want me here? I can go home, I should have known better, texted you beforehand to check, or something.”

“Do you mind eating dinosaur chicken nuggets and smiley face waffles?”

“That sounds amazing, actually.” He beamed, swinging the door open a little wider for you, and welcoming you into his home, your shoes being toed off by the door as you pulled the sleeves down over your hands, before spinning to him with a sudden intake of breath as he closed the door and remembered to put the highest locks on again. “I bought something for you, too.”

“Is it wine in a grape soda bottle?”

“You wish.” You teased presenting him with a bottle of wine, the cork still in it, and he took it from you, grinning as he looked it over, before meeting your curious gaze, and putting your nerves to rest. 

“We can have it after Emma goes to bed, maybe?”

It was a bold move, and he knew it, but at this point, he didn’t have much of his dignity or pride left to lose, and it seemed to pay off as you leaned into him a little, letting out a light breath. “I’d love that.”

He placed the bottle of red down on the coffee table, leaving it there before he had a hand on your lower back, and was guiding you through to the kitchen where Emma was trying to work out which side of the plate the knife was supposed to go on, and which side was the fork.

As much as he admired and adored his daughter’s intentions, he really wished he known, because Mitch found himself dishing up the most un-sophisticated dinner ever, and standing in a slightly messy kitchen to match a slightly messy apartment, covered in children’s toys and carpets he hadn't vacuumed in almost two weeks, wearing sweatpants and a shirt with a hole in the arm that was faded from all the wear and tear it had seen over the years.

He did the best he could, though, because this was the kind of moment he never thought he’d get to have with you, and he busied himself with splitting up the meal, taking all the brontosaurus' and triceratops into your and his plates, because Emma only liked the t-rex’s and the pterodactyls, claiming they tasted different. Arranging them around the outside, he filled the middle with the number of smiley faces that she’d actually at, despite knowing she’d argue for more. Fishing out the ketchup, he squirted the sauce out, shaping it in a couple of hearts, before picking up her plate and placing it down in front of her, placing a kiss to the top of her head. 

Your plate was next, the bottle of ketchup going down into the middle of the table as he sat down opposite you. As predicted, Emma complained about the quantities, before tucking in, constantly talking with her mouthful as she tried to add to the conversation. He drank sparkling grape soda from an old wine bottle with you both, and watched as Emma told you everything she could possibly think of that you may not already know, before offering to show off her bedroom to you after dinner.

He both hated and loved how naturally you bonded with his daughter, and how seeing you sitting across from him eating kids meals and having a biased thumb war with his five-year-old at the dinner table felt like something that was meant to be in his life, and definitely something he knew he could get used to. You helped clean up, standing by his side and washing the pots as he dried and put them away, much to your insistence as he told you you didn't have to, and Emma pinned up her blue and green demon-tiger on the fridge, before clearing away her crayons and going to clean her teeth. 

You let her give you the ‘grand tour’ of her bedroom as he leaned in the doorway, trying not to think about how he’d very much like to give you the grand tour of his bedroom, and distracting himself by picking out the bedtime story he’d read to her once she was settled under the covers. 

He found you again once the girl was asleep, flicking out the lights and finding you sitting on his couch, passing your time by quietly reading the book he’d had out on the coffee table, seemingly already further through it than he’d had the chance to get in over a week, but closing it up when he sat down beside you, two real wine glasses and a corkscrew in hand as he offered one to you.

You shifted as he sat down, resting your feet in his lap once he’d popped the cork out, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’ once your glass had been filled, and just like that, you were once again dragging him down into that hazy feeling he’d spent the entire night in, leaning his head on the cushion, and letting the first things that came to mind spill from his mouth. The conversation took off from there, starting as you conversed the book he had out, and moving to other books, before movies and TV shows, general likes and dislikes, learning one another slowly. 

Everything you told him made him like you a little bit more, your quirks and sharp edges, a kind of devotion finding a place in his heart that he never thought he’d feel again as you continued on, before the topic had switched to the future. He spilled his fears, that he wanted Emma to do private elementary schooling, but to attend an actual middle and high school, to get the full experience like she deserved, but that he also just wanted to protect her from the entire world. He confessed that he constantly felt like he was failing, tearing up when he told you about how he was certain he couldn't give her as much as she deserved, leaning into your hand when you wiped away the tear that fell free, and you spilled your own wishes to him.

Everything before the trauma that had landed you in the CIA at a younger age than him, and that no relationship had ever worked out for you, because you could never get past the ‘so, what do you do for a living?’ stage, and could never move in with someone, plan dates, or make a future. You told him about how you still wanted the same little things all little girls wanted, a pretty wedding and a devoted spouse and a beautiful child to raise into the world and add to society, to leave a legacy behind in the form of a beautiful person who would live their own life, and that you worried you’d never get it. 

By the end of the bottle, the two of you were more than tipsy, and he felt like he'd known you forever, his body pressed to yours, and an arm wrapped around you as your head leaned on his shoulder, deep sighs leaving you both. 

“I’m sorry if tonight was a total fail.”

You shifted, just slightly, before raising a hand, weaving your fingers with his on the hand sitting over your shoulder. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s been.. a while since I last took a pretty woman out for dinner, and it isn’t supposed to be soda and chicken nuggets, and you shouldn’t wear sweatpants, that’s for sure.” You turned a little, pressing the rumble of your laugh into his shoulder, and he didn't even have enough inhibition to be embarrassed about his lack of filter.

“Tell you what, Mitch, if you want to take me out to dinner, then I will dress up all pretty to be on your arm. But, for the record, I am more than happy to spend a dinner date with you and Emma eating kid’s food, in sweatpants and hoodies.” He whined a little under his breath, before pulling back enough to look at you, and resting his forehead on your own. 

“Do you have any idea how perfect you are?”

Your breath hitched a little from his words, and he twisted his head, enough to bump his nose with your own as he tasted your breath on his lips, licking over his own and working up the nerve to close his mouth in against your own, slot them together in a simple kiss.

He didn’t get the chance, before you were both jumping apart in slight shock when Emma’s bedroom door clicked open, the two of you watching the girl shuffle down the hall, rubbing at her eyes, entirely unaware of her surroundings as she moved into the bathroom, the door closing behind her. The atmosphere felt entirely shattered, his confidence shooting back down to the floor, the startle from his daughter sobering him up a little, now.

“I should go, it’s probably quite late.”

He only nodded, grabbing the empty bottle and the glasses, running them through to the kitchen and leaving them for himself to sort in the morning, before meeting you by the front door. You were tugging your shoes back on, your hood pulled up over your head to fight the cold that waited outside, and your bag on your arm again. 

“I meant it, though. I had an amazing night.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You breathed, pressing a kiss to his cheek again, this one lingering, you forehead bumping his temple as you pulled back, before you were waving to him and walking away toward the stairs, letting him watch until you were sealed within the box and taken from his sights, and he locked the front door once again. 

When he turned, Emma was standing there, her thumb in her mouth as she stared up at him, and he reached down, plucking it from between her lips and wiping it off, crouching down before her. 

“Do you love (Y/N)?” He all but choked on his breath, staring down at the little girl in shock, before she yawned again, covering her mouth and shrugging her shoulders. Lifting her arms up, she allowed Mitch to pick her up, flicking off the lights in the house as he went, heading away with a destination of her bedroom as her face settled into his neck. “I love (Y/N). She's my bestest friend.”

He placed her down onto the mattress delicately, the nightlight in her room casting a soft pink glow over her features, and he smiled sadly as he looked at her, little eyes fluttering shut as she snuggled back into her blankets. He could see so much of Katrina in her features, sure that they would only develop more as she grew older, but it no longer hurt to look at her like it did in the first year, and he no longer felt that same pang of pain in his heart at the flash of her face across his mind, just nostalgia that made his heart slow a little, for only a second, in memory of someone it had lost.

In addition, though, he could see so much of you in her personality. His little girl was brave, and confident, and would be truly unstoppable one day, and he loved it, stroking his fingers over her hair and smiling a little when she opened his eyes to peer at him curiously, still waiting for an answer from him.

“I do. I love her too, princess.” She smiled to herself like she’d been told the world’s biggest secret, tucking her face into her pillow some more as sleep began to come back to claim her. “She’s special. She’s like.. like-”

“A queen!”

He laughed a little at her words, finding the teddy bear that had fallen from the bed to the carpet and tucking it under her arm, raising a brow in question. “A queen?”

“I’m the princess.” She murmured, the nickname he gave her so fondly rolling from her lips. “That means you’re the king, and (Y/N) can be the queen.”

The stinging realisation that she was searching for another figure in anyone that she could find made him ache with freezing cold ice from head to toe, his eyes welling up a little bit as he tried to hold a brave face, kissing her forehead as he stood up, bidding her a goodnight as her breathing went shallow, and closing the door again behind him.

“Daddy, can you get married?”

Emma was holding up the last of her Haribo sweets on her finger, before chewing the gummy ring off, and he turned to look at her, raising his head from his work, before turning to glare at Stan as he snickered. “Did you set this up?”

“I did nothing!” 

He peered at his daughter's iPad, another scene from ‘Frozen’ up on the screen as Anna and Hans’ voices barely reached his ears through the headphones she’d taken off, and he let out a deep sigh, Stan texting on his phone and ignoring them both, and Mitch placed down the pen for the work he was signing off on. “I want to get married, daddy.”

“One day, princess.”

“I want you to get married, too. Why can’t we have a wedding, daddy?” He rubbed a hand over his eyes, before giving his full attention to his daughter. He wasn’t sure how to answer, or what to say, but she was staring up at him hopefully as she nibbled on a gummy bear, the crown on her head tipping a little bit to the side, and he reached out to place it on her head properly again.

“We can have a wedding if you want to, baby.” He couldn't help it, but her little hands were clapping together excitedly and her face lit up, and he didn’t regret the choice at all. “Stan will officiate.”

“I will do no such thing!” The man insisted, but Emma ignored that, only getting more excited as her hands became fists while she cheered. 

“Yay, Mr Stan!”

He glared at Mitch, who only smirked back at him, signing his name in confirmation at the bottom of the papers and finishing them off, the man growling under his breath but being unable to refuse, and Emma was leaping out of her chair, fishing out her other crown, and presenting it proudly. 

“Royal crowns! Wedding crowns!”

She stamped her feet excitedly, clutching it to her chest as her entire body all but vibrated with excitement, and he was out of his chair in seconds, scooping her up happily and pressing kisses to her cheeks as the other crown fell away, her childish giggles filling the room as he spun her around. 

“Right, right, c’mon then. I have a meeting in ten minutes, so if we’re having a royal wedding, we’re on a timer.”

Hurley let out a heaving sigh as he stood up, the door bursting open a second later as you all but fell through, a more formal outfit than usual on you, a pencil skirt and tight jumper, your eyes wide and phone clutched in hand. “What happened?”

“What?”

“The emergency! What happened?” Mitch looked over at Stan, your eyes following his, and you growled under your breath, picking up one of the croissants from the cart beside you and throwing it across the room at him. “You don’t just text people ‘quick, help, there is an emergency’ when there is no emergency, Stan!”

“There is an emergency! Someone has to marry Mitch!”

“Are you fu-” You cut yourself off, pinching the bridge of your nose, before walking over to them and covering Emma’s ears. “Are you fucking kidding me, Stan? I was in a debriefing.”

“I thought I was marrying Emma?” Mitch felt like he was talking to himself as he realised he'd been set up, Emma arranging him until he was facing you, her hands on your hips as she turned you to face him, and suddenly, he couldn’t breathe again. Since your dinner a few weeks ago, neither of you had spoken about what had almost happened, slipping right back to being close friends, and he wasn’t sure whether or not to take that as a good sign. 

He couldn't help but think about how odd this entire situation was, the child of the fiancée who had died was holding a fake marriage to someone else, someone she had seemed to have adopted as her own motherly figure, and he felt like it was all a little too weird to actually focus on for too long. 

“Em, do you remember what we said about surprises?”

“Yes! You said surprises are okay!” She growled a little at him, her best wolf impression as she tried to get him to back down, and he returned it, watching as her face screwed up with anger and her arms crossed. “Surprises are okay if it makes everyone happy, that’s what you said, daddy!”

“Yes, but how do you know everyone is happy, Emma?”

“Because you love (Y/N)!” Mitch wanted the ground to open up and suck him in, possibly just let him never return, but then someone has to look after Emma, and he didn't even bother to cover her ears as he let a string of curses fall from his mouth, embarrassment flaring up warmth across his entire body, swelling in his chest all the way up to the tips of his ears in a suffocating heat as his head dropped. “It’s okay, daddy! (Y/N) loves you too! Mr Stan says so!” 

He heard the dull thud of what sounded like a very solid punch being delivered to Stan, and he had been about to take the same action himself feeling a little bit better at knowing the man got a dig in for his sneaky actions.

“You have to get married and be happy, daddy.”

“Yeah, Rapp. You have to be happy. It’s an order.” He looked up at the man, a more genuine look on his face than any he had ever seen, and he gave in a little, finally managing to drag his eyes up to meet yours. You reached out, taking his hands in yours and pulling him in a little closer to you, as you winked at his daughter, and looked back up to him. 

Stan cleared his throat, lifting Emma onto his hip, and she clutched two crowns excitedly in her hands. “We are gathered here today, to join Mitch Rapp and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) in the most epic royal wedding ever.” Emma giggled at his words, nodding in agreement. “Do you, Mitch Rapp, take (Y/N) to be your royally wedded wife?”

He turned, licking over his lips, seeing your little nod to him in a promise that it was okay, before Emma was staring up at him hopefully, and Stan was glaring at him like he’d be shot at dawn by a firing squad if he didn’t agree. 

“Yes.”

“Fantastic. (Y/N), do you take Mitch Rapp to be your royally wedded husband?” You rolled your eyes, laughing a little, before nodding your head, and grinning when Emma cheered loudly. 

“I do.”

“Emma, the wedding crowns?” He lifted her up, allowing her to place the green one into his hair and the blue one into your own, fixing them to her liking before Stan was pulling her back down to a regular level, and placing her down on the floor. “Would you like to say it?”

He honestly didn't think he could get any worse, or that he could be any more embarrassed than he already was, but then his daughter's next words came, and he thought he may actually throw up a little bit; “You may now kiss the queen!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You may now kiss the queen, Rapp.” Hurley growled at him, and he couldn't believe his mentor was teaming up against him with his own daughter.

“I can’t believe you’re encouraging this in my dau-”

He was cut off with the only action he hadn't been expecting at this moment, his eyes closing as he realized what was happening. Your mouth was pressed to his, a sweet and innocent kiss, pulled in by a handful of his shirt, and he sighed happily into your mouth. Your lips were playing with his delicately, pressing and pulling in soft motions, and he felt like he’d slammed into cloud nine. His hands slipped down to your hips, holding you close to him as he pressed back into you, returning the kiss with everything he had, and feeling like his heart was exploding within his chest. 

It ended way too quickly for his liking, and he chased your lips for a second, pressing another quick peck to your mouth as you smiled at him, before he was opening his eyes, finding you looking just as bashful as he did, as Stan held his hand up for Emma to smash her palm again in a high-five.

Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him in closer, and your lips brushed against the shell of his ear, making a tremor travel along his spine. “I want to go somewhere hot for our honeymoon.”

He was on an all-time high, and he pulled back, catching your lips in a final sweet kiss. “How about for the wedding reception, we have dinner tonight?”

You hummed thoughtfully before a loving expression was finding itself on your face. “Am I dressing up or dressing down?”

He smoothed his hands around to your lower back, pulling you in a little closer. “How about you come over in the comfiest PJs you own, and when you get cold, I can still be a gentleman and give you my jumper?”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

[waywardimpalawriter]

“Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?" with Javier and can I please have a happy ending, I know it's angst prompts but.... :D Thank you!

Crazy Love

Pairing: Javier Peña x Plus Size Female Reader

Characters: Javier Peña, Steve Murphy, mentions Connie Murphy

Setting: After season one episode 7 ‘You will cry tears of blood’, five months after the events in ‘Heels’,

Rating: M (Mature), E (Explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: mentions of gun violence, almost killing a child, self hatred, smut, unprotected sex, Angry Javier (yes he needs a warning), angst, slight fluff at the end,

Summary: One slip up, reacting too quickly he could’ve ended the life of one way too young to fight the wars of old men. Thoughts filled with darkness, what if’s and self degradation. Wanting to loose himself in the only way he knows. To find because of you he can brave the dawn and the coming war.

Word count: 5,985 (with lyrics)

Notes: Thank you so much for the request sweetie, @autumnleaves1991-blog I hope you enjoy. Prompt in bold. The song used is ‘Crazy Love’ written by Van Morrison and preformed by various artists. This also a sequel to “Heel’s part 1” written some months back.

Tag List:

Forever’s: @chickensarentcheap @jedi-mando

Knuckles white with the grip he’s got on the steer wheel, eyes darting between the thin packed streets and Murphy with the baby in his arms. “What about the kid? Any ideas where to take her?”

Missing the shrug, with his eyes back on the road, “For now I’ll take her with us.” Smirk twitching his dark blond mustache with the look Javier pins him with at a stop light. “Don’t worry Javi she ain’t gonna stay with you. Poor darlin can’t live on whiskey and cigarettes. Though the parade of women might slow with her at your apartment.”

“There’s no parade jackass,” trying to focus on the road ahead and off what almost occurred three hours ago.

Subtle tick to his jaw knowing something’s bothering his partner about what went down. More to the point of how it went to shit and letting two high ranking Sicario slip through their fingers. “Wanna spill what’s eaten at you?”

“No just take care of the kid don’t need you play shrink in my head,” pulling up to the embassy, Javier kills the engine turning fully to look at Steve. “Care to share your explanation to Noonan or will you wing it?”

Shrugging Steve glances down into her sleepy eyes trying to figure out just what he’ll say. More importantly what he’s going to tell Connie. “I’m not,” looking back over at Peña seeing a raised brow. “I’ll take her home to Connie, figure out this shit as we go.”

“I’m sure Y/N would babysit,” mentioning you name cut deeply as the last month he’s put distance between the two of you. Continuing the relationship based solely on your sexual needs instead of the feeling he keeps buried.

“Doubtful, she’s working on transferring out. Packing I’m sure takes her time up right now,” seeing the scowling confusion drawing his brows down. “You knew she asked for a transfer right?”

“When?” Curses fill his mind. Directed fully at himself for letting the situation spiral out of control to the point you’ve become that notch on his bed post. Telling himself he’s going to let you go but never finding the courage to actually cut the strings. “She never mentioned taking a transfer. ”

The nights spent together you never mentioned a transfer. But then words rarely left either of your lips that’s not in passionate pleas wanting more or demands for completion. Conversations the first to go in the crumbling relationship, embraces followed not long after and the final straw added a month and a half ago. No kisses on the mouth anyway a promise you made him invoke to separate the past pleasures from the present stalemate.

Revisiting those thoughts often, Javier understood why you made the decision. One he hated but respected. Wondering most nights why you still let him inside your soft plush body instead of putting up a wall between the two of you. Shoving him out of your life fully. But then the transfer you didn’t speak of talked louder than any uttered words could.

“Two weeks ago, something about returning back to the States. Damn shame Y/N’s a fucking amazing secretary even better person. Why’d you go fuck things up for us both?” Wanting to knock some sense into Javier but a part of Steve understood the other man’s reasons for pushing you away. “Just let her go man this job she’s not fit nor can put up with the stress. I know I pushed at first but whatever you did to shover her away it’s for the best.”

“She’s a lot stronger than you know,” said more to himself than Steve. Other mans words hitting deeper than Javier would say, his fingers tightening around the leather steering wheel. “You don’t know shit Murphy.”

“I know a month ago things changed between the two of you.” Switching the baby to his other arm cradling her close to his chest. “Whatever happened she become withdrawn, stopped smiling as much,” piercing him with a hard stare. “Reverting back to the woman I first met when coming Bogota.” Glancing out the windshield Steve drag a hand over his face exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “ piece of advice either fess up explain what’s eaten at you or let her go.”

Selfishness claws at his mind wanting to keep you from leaving. From getting away not only from Columbia it’s self but from him. The realistic half needing you safe a world removed from the war starting to build back up. This afternoon’s events flash through his mind of how he almost killed a kid. A fucking kid who tried to protect the Sicario scum he chased and cornered. Would’ve had him had the kid not pulled a gun on him. The decision not to pull the trigger an easy one this time. But what about the next? Making him no better than the men he chases if he decided to take the shot so easily. Affirming those thoughts to let you go for your greater good and health.

“Javi?” Snapping fingers to gain his attention. “Deep in thought or just swimming the shallow waters?”

Scowl taking up home over his features, “Don’t worry about it doesn’t concern you.”

“Fuck you say, she’s my friend to Javi.” Shaking his blond head wondering how much pushing it’ll take before Peña would break. “Besides I think Connie has a good chance at kicking your ass if you do anymore damaged. She’s wanted to get her hooks into you for a while now.”

Almost chuckling at those words though it’s mirthless and self deprecating. “She’s next in line,” tossing the words out while starting the Jeep. Silence reigns on the drive over to their apartment, pulling up to the curb and letting Steve out.

Who pauses in the open door, “Heading to Y/N’s? Or back to the Embassy?”

“Paperwork,” impatiently waiting for Steve to shut the door.

Eager for some peace and time to think. He sees you standing in the doorway arms crossed under your generous breasts. For once actually studying your features taking in the fact you look somber, dressed in well loved jeans and baggy T-shirt. No makeup, though Javi told you a thousand times how beautiful you look without all those cosmetics painted on your face. Heart kicking up at the way your staring at him. Barely seen with you so far away but he knows there’s a softness shining in your eyes. Emotions he’s never tried to decipher in other women till you. Thoughts now run into each other, fears chasing after wanting so much but feeling undeserving.

Soft chuckle echos around the Jeep’s cabin making Javi glance at Steve, “Time better served explaining than useless paperwork.” Looking over his shoulder to find you gone, “Before it’s to late and she’s gone.” Door slamming shut, Steve leans in through the open window with a meaningful expression on his handsome face. Patting the inside slight nod of his blond head before turning to go inside leaving Javier with to many thoughts.

Pulling away from the curb happening to glance back towards the apartments catching you standing at the window. Hand pressed to the glass unreadable look on your face one he’s sure shows signs of displeasure and anger. With a blink your silhouette disappears heart clenching at the thought he’s just imagined you standing there. Another curse flies from his lip, palm forcefully slamming down on the steering column doing nothing to temper the anger boiling inside his mind. Instead Javier guns the engine taking off at a high rate of speed receiving numerous honks in irritated warning.

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

Letting the curtain fall back in place wild thumping of your heart pulsing out a rhythm that aches with every pound. Partly hating yourself for getting involved with a man incapable of having any kind of relationship other than sexual. Asking yourself why you keep letting him back into your bed, into your heart knowing it’ll just break in the end. Only one answer comes to mind and you push it firmly back into the dark abyss. Focusing on what you needed to done. Having struggled for the last two months with the decision to finally put in for a transfer home, away from Columbia and Javier Peña. Never an easy choice especially when you’ve fallen in love with a man who would never love you back.

Heavy knocking makes you jump in spot leaning against the wall by the window. Hand coming to rest against the quickly beating organ threatening to thump right outta your chest. Taking a breath trying to calm down from the freight you take small steps to eat up the distance towards the door. Another round of pounding has a scowl appearing wondering who would beat your door down at this time of evening.

“Hold your horses I’m comin’ already,” raising you voice loud enough to at least pause the noise.

Grasping the doorknob right when, “Hermosa,” his voice pulls your hand back almost as if the knob burned you with that very endearment. “Open up you can’t hide I know your there.”

“Go away Javier I’m not in the mood,” arms crossed glaring at the door. Pivoting on bare feet to track towards the kitchen going back to sorting through what your keeping and leaving behind. Freezing in place the unmistakeable sound of a key sliding into lock. Cursing the fact you never asked for the spare back and giving him one in the first place. Try as you might to make your feet move instead there rooted in spot when the door opens. “I didn't invite you in Javi turn your ass around and leave.”

Breath escaping quickly, eyes narrowing after searching the apartment he’s spent the last months in. Catching sight of half filled boxes, newspaper scattered over the coffee table, before landing on your furious features. Hands gripping wide hips, soft chin jutted out in annoyance while eyes spit anger burying the true feelings deep. “It’s true?”

“Why do you care?” Countering his words biting the inside of your cheek to keep tears from sliding coldly down your cooling skin. “Leave Javier,” exasperated and tired just wanting to move on, putting the relationship in the past.

Not two steps away his warm gun callused hand incloses around your wrist tugging and turning your plush body around to face him. “Not till you answer me.”

“We don’t talk about feelings remember Peña, your rules,” yanking your wrist free glare firmly in place.

Flinching at the harsh tone eyes scorching him with there intensity, his own somber and filled with regret. Deserving of those very words no matter how much they hurt. He moves forward for you to take one back reaching to grasp both shoulders. Taking another step out of his reach slow two step pattern finds your back pressed against the bar counter. Reminiscent of the first time you made love all those months ago. Except this time you’d stand strong push him away and not fall prey to those warm russet eyes filled with so many indescribable emotions.

“Stupid rule I never should’ve put in our relationship,” three feet of space between the two of you. Both chests heaving breaths eyes locked and searching. His eyes close drawing in your familiar scent letting it wash all the days stress clean for a single moment in time. Ear’s picking up the quick beating of your heart wishing as his eyes open a smile would bloom over those kissably soft lips.

“But you did and there’s no taking it back now,” firm stance starting to crumble under the weight of emotions filtering through his dark eyes.

Half way to reaching out his hands drop back to fist at his sides, “I’m sorry hermosa I didn’t mean…” unsure how to fix what’s broken. Never good at speaking his feelings even when the need presents its self.

I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles

And the heavens open every time she smiles

And when I come to her that's where I belong

Yet I'm running to her like a river's song

“What’d want from me Javier?” Pleading tone arms crossed to close your body off. Putting up a defense against the one man who’s managed to crumble every wall surround your heart. To starve off the bubbling emotions threatening to spill over and consume you.

Closing the small gap, callused hands cup both cheeks, fingers spread from apples to jawlines. Brushing his thumbs under your eyes his own pleading and soft ‘the puppy’ look you nicknamed it two weeks into the relationship. “To kiss you.”

Swallowing harshly, “Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?" Willing your body not to react, not to turn and place kisses to his palm. Nuzzling the warmth drawing peace from his comforting touch. “We made rules you know how I feel about kissing Javi.”

Almost two months ago things started to fall apart. Always asking yourself why you still let him into your bed and body. Part of you knowing the space carved Javier hole in your heart will never close. Not even denying the both of you those intimate kisses could change the fact he’s wormed his way through defenses long held too fall in love with your DEA agent.

“I know mi amor,” sliding one hand down from your face to wrap his arm around your thick waist. Pulling you flush into his embrace and against his body. Turning the both of you so it’s his back pressed into the counter. Savoring the softness wishing you’d hold him. Run your fingers through his hair and chase away the stress currently resurfacing with your tense posture. “I don’t want you to leave.” No truer words spoken ones that cut his very soul with the implications of what could happen if he didn’t take Steve’s advice.

Agony rips a new hole in your heart at his words, at the endearment dripping from those sinful lips. “You don’t mean that.” Eyes close to keep from staring into russet browns. Trying not to give in and foolishly hope he means what he speaks.

“I do hermosa,” eyes popping open at the barest brush of his chapped lips against yours, widen orbs find his shut, brow furrowed. “I don’t want to loose you.”

“Javier,” breathlessly whispering his name. The intensity of Javi’s declaration scares you not wanting to believe for a second his words ring true. Not when so many broken promises lay at your feet. Yet, if there’s one thing you know about Javier Peña he’s honest, never lying to you about what he wanted. Holding back sure, not letting you in those tightly held defenses of his own fuck yes, but lie to you never. Those thoughts make others chase after. Ones that scare you into thinking you’ve made a huge mistake by asking for the transfer. Could you leave his man who holds your heart? Walk away from a relationship that’s possibly just hitting a rough patch? So engrossed in those thoughts you don’t realize he’s tipping your chin up to angle your head in the prefect position to slot his mouth over yours.

Javier’s restraint having snapped with his name slipping from your bitten lips, wanting to meld the two of you together in the only way he knows how. Showing you with his body what his words couldn’t express. Javier captures your mouth in a bruising kiss filled with demands. Teeth biting at your lips, dragging plump bottom in to abuse with nibbles and soothing over with his tongue. Harsh gasp blown from your mouth giving him access to the warm cavern. Drinking from your well, tasting your flavor on his tongue always returning for more. Tangling together as his arm tightens around your soft waist.

Garnering a moan of need from deep within your chest. Attacking his mouth with your own, fingers coming into play by carding through those thick mahogany strands tugging harshly. Receiving a growl in return that vibrates down to your very core clit throbbing in response to his rough actions.

Mouths parting to gather air, “I need you hermosa please,” desperation coloring his tone foreheads resting together. The hand still cupping your cheek slides around to gently cup the back of your head. “I need…” swallowing hard, fighting to keep from taking you hard and fast right there. Burying the fear and pain, the anger and worry into your soft gentle body. Letting you sooth the demons threatening to consume his soul. But he couldn’t, promising to never show that side of himself to you.

Those thoughts in mind Javier moves in to kiss you only to chase your mouth till you place fingers over his searching lips. Seeing a spark of need in he eyes that’s closed away before fully blooming. Leading you to remember a conversation the two of you had at the on set of your relationship. Knowing what he needed and how, you step back watching his features fall with his arms to the side.

Only to have confusion replace the crestfallen expression as you tug the t-shirt up and off your body. Standing in just your panties and jeans, “I told you a long time ago Javier I’m not made of glass this body…” hands gliding up from your waist to soft tummy and generous breasts. “Won’t break if your rough with me.” Heat sparking in eyes that will him to listen, give in and take you. “If I’m staying and we work this out you’ll have to let me in.”

Each word hits him hard square in the heart, “I don’t want to hurt you cariño.”

“You already have Javier,” head dropping you go to tug your shirt back on. Only to have it ripped from your hand and tossed somewhere unseen. That soft gasp making his heart beat triple time. Strong arms wrap around your body to bring you back into his warmth. “Fix what you broke.”

There’s no gentleness to the possessive kiss Javier captures your mouth with. Large warm hands grip your plush ass to press into your tummy the thick ridge of his jeans covered erection. Low growl slipping passed parted gasping lips that angle for the right spot to draw those whimpers and moans he can never get enough of. Separating long enough to have you rip his tan button up open, little plastic disks pinging off the wall and tiled floor. Scoring your short nails over his soft tummy, toying with the button of his jeans.

“Fuck,” hissing through kiss swollen lips that attack your neck with bitting teeth. Wanting to mark each inch of you in reminder to himself of who you derive your pleasure from. “Do that again,” demanding cadence gets a soft smirk to spread over your bitten lips.

Keeping your eyes lock, breath existing quickly because of the passionate kiss. Short nails rake up his chest and leave little red lines behind. Detouring to pinch his pebbled tight nipples receiving another low growl against the skin of your collarbone. Where his mouth sucks a purpling mark laving his tongue over the bruising skin. Enjoying the shutter he feels race down your spine.

Pushing the shirt from his shoulders Javier raises his head to stare into your desire darken eyes. “Fuck me Javier till I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Simple words ignite a passion and deep seated need inside his body to claim and wreak you. Clothing becomes nothing more than obstacles in the way of having naked skin against his own. The two of your fumbling with buttons and zippers. His parting on a sigh of relief as you push the fabric to pool around his ankles. Nimble fingers brushing through course little hairs. Leading your hand to wrap around his shaft. Thick girth barely covered by your hand that you pump along heated velvet skin.

Smirking at the groaning string of Spanish curses falling from his lips. Only replaced by the pout, when he brushes your hand away. Mouth still just inches from yours brushing taking another sip from your lips. Drowning in the taste of your mouth, the feel of your plump lips against his. Devouring the pout and only breaking to whisper, “Later princesa.” Toeing off boots and soak covered feet pressing out of jeans, naked as on his born day for your eyes to devour.

Becoming insnared with his beauty far too long for Javier’s liking. Lips licked slowly watching the bob of his jutting cock. Mouth watering in want of a taste. Quick breaths expanded his soft covered muscular chest your hands itch to dust over. His handsomeness distracting you to the point a squeal issues from the back of your throat when he pulls you by the belt loops towards the couch. Skilled fingers making quick work of getting your jeans undone warm palms sliding the fabric down your body.

Javier drops back into the couch bringing you between his spread knees and placing kisses to your tummy. Nuzzling the underside of your breasts. Looking up to ensnare your vision with his own desire filled gaze. Strong arms holding you in place while eyes close, nose rubbing into your soft scantly skin resting his head on your tummy. Hands coming up to card through his hair gently this time tugging the locks and wrapping his shoulders with your arms. Emotions clogging your throat burning with the need to release the tears of mixed feelings.

Moaning head tossing back when his warm tongue peeking out to teasing the taut nipples his hands tug your panties down. Becoming impatient and ripping the thin cotton from your body. Making you gasp and look down into those desire blacken eyes you choose happily to drown in. “You’ll…” swallowing your words on a moan as those thick skilled fingers draw through your folds. Tapping your clit several times and retreating to slide inside your clinching walls.

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She's got a fine sense of humor when I'm feeling low down

And when I come to her when the sun goes down

Take away my trouble, take away my grief

Take away my heartache, in the night like a thief

“I’ll buy you more cariño and go with you to help pick out certain ones,” giving you a cheeky wink. Groaning with the feel of slick coating his fingers, smirk in place when your hands brace on his shoulders to keep from tipping over into his arms. Pulling his fingers out to suck them clean making sure your watching his every move. The resounding whimper he draws out brings the same smug grin too tug at his lips. Gripping the back of your thick thighs to spread your stance and slot his own knees between.

Pulling you down against him knees on either side of his thighs. Hiss issued at the contact of your dripping folds coating his shaft trapped between your bodies. Rolling hips to tease your own hands gripping the back of the couch to brace yourself while raising up. Deep moan breaks from your chest when Javier draws the fat cock head through your folds. Circling your clit as your hips match the movements. Waiting till he’s notched himself at your entrance before slamming down against him.

Head tossing back at the stretch and burn of him splitting you open gasps of delight echo and play with the groans from Javier. Who grips your hips, holding you against him for a time face buried in your chest. Hot mouth searching out blindly latching onto your right nipple to bite down just hard enough to make your quivering channel squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck,” single word mumbled against your skin. When you start to move setting a quick pace that’s hard and demanding. Head dropping back between your gripping hands. String of curses and praise leave his lips. “Just like that hermosa, so fucking wet for me,” grunting into your mouth that came to fuss to his. Sharing breaths while you move against his body.

Taking possession of his pleasure with a kiss that’s deep and hungry. Devouring the sounds he makes with each quick roll of your hips. Pressing your generous breasts against the hard plains of his chest, nipples brushing his skin as his own hands grip your thick soft waist. Leaving behind bruises with how tightly he holds you. One hand gliding over sweat slicked skin to cup a full ass cheek giving a squeeze before landing a hard slap.

Movements falter with the stinging pleasure coursing through your veins, “Javi.” Kiss breaking breathlessly to catch his eyes. Seeing the indecision clearly written, you nod leaning to brushing your lips over his ear, “Again please.”

Mouth buries against the spot where shoulder and neck meet, planting his feet firmly to thrust into your welcoming cunt quicker. Letting a moment pass till he lands another smack to the other ass cheek. Soothing the pain with his warm palm, “Like that princesa?” Drawing his nose over the sweaty expanse of his throat tossed back on a gasp. Bearing your neck to his hungry gaze and mouth.

Taking advantage to bite and suck, thick mustache abrading your skin in the most delicious of ways. Sending tingles to dance across your skin making your clit throb with each hard pound of his cock deep inside your quivering walls. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders for leverage as your knees sink into the couch and you bounce on Javier’s cock. Thick thighs shaking as orgasm builds quicker than you thought possible.

“Yes,” whimpering out in answer. Both hands cup your ass helping you move against him. Sweat slicked shoulders make for a tough grip movements becoming choppy and sloppy. Low whine bubbles from the back of your throat needing more but unsure how to say.

Javier picks up on the destress, pulling out making the whine lengthen. “Lay back on the couch for me hermosa,” seeing the confusion in your gaze. Javi tugs you to sit in the corner of the couch, pulling till your almost flat and he crawls between those thick thighs he wants wrapped around his waist.

Sliding back inside of you on a groan, “Still so tight for me princesa I could stay buried in your pretty pussy forever never growing tired of having your surround me.”

“Javi,” heat flares across your body at his words, face buried in your palms. Only to have them pulled and placed on his chest. Shocked yet pleased with his sentiments, the way he growls out the words setting off tingles dancing down your spine.

Gasping when he pulls out resting just the tip before surging back angling to hit that little spot only he’s managed to discover inside you. Right leg draped over his hip left dangling off the couch as your hands scrap and grope at his shoulders. Strong arms press on either side of you holding himself up while rocking his hips into yours. Setting a fast and hard pace that has you gasping, moans of incoherent words tumble from your mouth that hangs open trying to gather breath.

Watching with hooded eyes, drinking in the way you look, the passion morphing your features never wanting to let you go. To always see you in the throws of pleasure he delivers to your body. Praying to whoever will listen that you’ll stay. Those thoughts creating a fire inside his body that moves quicker.

Wanting to show you his feelings by repeatedly burying his cock deep inside your throbbing cunt. Loving your soft thick body with his mouth latching onto a breast. Nipping skin and taunt nipples, curling his tongue before biting down and switching to the twin. Feeling your nails score his back and shoulders only driving on his own pleasure.

Needing you to cum first though, Javier slides one hand between your slick bodies to caress your clit with tight circles of pressure. Smirking into your flesh when you gasp and squirm under him. His name breathlessly spoken to the heavens your back arching off the couch. “That’s my girl cum for me amor soak my cock.”

“Javier,” fingers card through his hair pulling his mouth back to yours. Tender and sweet nothing like the previous kisses as you pour your heart out to the man pounding you into the couch. Foreheads rest together, moans dripping from your lips brushing against his trying to hold back to draw out the pleasure. Afraid of the final moment he finds completion and walks out of your life maybe for good this time. “I love you,” unable to stop those three words from tumbling out. Orgasm slamming through your body with the hard thrusts of Javier’s hips. Crying out his name, arching against him breath stuck along with tears in your throat.

Swearing he heard things, Javier’s pace stuttered but his heart pounds quicker. Hips having a mind of their own as his body rushes to completion. Cumming harder than he’s ever in his life, filling your clinching walls with hot stick seed. Strength evaporated from his arms collapsing into your embrace. Burying his face in your neck, hot moist breath fanning out over your skin. Small after shocks roll through both your bodies garnering whimpers and moans from both of you.

Time, unsure of how much passes while you card fingers through his sweat slicked hair. Enjoying this moment, basking in the after glow of your love making while praying it’s not the end.

“Don’t leave,” words whispered into your skin so low there barely caught. Wondering if you’ve heard things your fingers pause watching on stuttering breath as Javier raises his head to stare into your eyes. Wondering if you meant what you said or just caught up in the pleasurable sex and let it out. It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask when you beat him to the punch.

“I… I…” words lost in the jumble of your mind unsure what to say. Fearful your passionate declaration went unheard or worse ignored.

Cupping your cheek surprised to find tears tracking down your cheek, “Don’t leave me Y/N please.”

Searching his bright russet eyes confused till you see what he’s really saying. Realization blooming across your mind your own hand coming up to embrace his cheek. Thumb swiping over the apple, “I’ll speak to Noonan.” Bringing his mouth down to yours for a soft sweet kiss.

“Do you really love me?” Foreheads resting together breath held, his eyes closed tightly fearing the answer.

Shocked he’s asking. Remembering the times you tried to get him to talk about his feelings becoming shut down pushing the conversation away or distracting you with kisses and sex. With the lengthening silence Javier dares to open his eyes catching the soft expression in yours that cracks his frozen heart.

“I wouldn’t say those words if I didn’t mean them Javi you know that,” continuing to brush your fingers over his stubbled jaw. Up into his soft sweaty hair to gently scratch his scalp knowing how much he enjoys when you do. Rewarded with a low purr from the back of his throat. “What happened today baby?”

Fear keeps him quiet for a moment till, “I almost killed a kid.” Lowering his stare to map your skin with his eyes adding the marks he left behind to his memory. Fear returning now that you’ve heard how much of a monster he’s turning into.

“Did you shoot?” There’s no accusations or incrimination, voice softly seeking a way to help sooth the demons you saw when he first arrived.

Carefully pulling from your warm depths and embrace to sit on the edge of the couch face buried in his hands. Missing the whimper at loosing his touch. You grab for the blanket draped over the back to cover yourself in self consciousness. Moving carefully to sit up and lean against his shoulder. Fingers carding through his hair slowly while placing the other around his waist. Waiting till he’s ready to start speaking not wanting to push.

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

Yes I need her in the daytime

Yes I need her in the night

Yes I want to throw my arms around her

Kiss her hug her kiss her hug her tight

Welcoming warmth enveloping his body that cleaves into you. Baritone rough with emotions, “No I couldn’t pull the tigger, didn’t want to shoot some kid who’s stupidly following the orders of a man who doesn’t care about him.”

“Listen to me Javi you’re not Escobar you’ll never have that narcissistic attitude.” Turning his face to look at you, brushing the stubble with your fingertips. “Yes you’ve done some questionable things for good reasons to take down this asshole who would gladly see all of Columbia burn just to get and keep what he wants.” Leaning in to brush your nose against his, “I couldn’t love a man who killed people for kicks Javier. That’s not what you do. You save people, protect them as best you can.”

Unworthiness filtering through his thoughts never expecting to find someone who loved him faults and all. Intertwining his fingers with the hand previously on his cheek bring the back to his lips to place a kiss. “I don’t deserve you hermosa,” swallowing harshly letting your hand go to stand. Unconcerned with his nakedness Javier stretches popping his back then looking down at you.

Worry etched in those beloved eyes that stare unblinkingly at the spot he just vacated. “Leaving now?” Biting off the words tears clouding your vision mistaking his declaration as rejection pulling the blanket tighter around your plush body.

Forefinger and thumb pinching the end of your soft chin raising your gaze to meet his, “Why would I leave when everything I want and love rests with you.”

“Javier?” Voice wobbling with unshed tears.

Pulling the blanket from your body taking in the curves and dips, the softness he’s itching to get his hands back on. But right now Javier brings the nearest hand to his lips, brushing the knuckles with his mouth mustache tickling your skin. Keeping your eyes locked as he tugs you up into his arms. “I’m serious Y/N I don’t deserve you but without you I’m a shell of a man,” bringing his free hand up to cup your cheek deep russet eyes burning with love staring into yours.

“What are you saying?” Fear coating the words, afraid it’s all a dream and you’ll wake without Javier beside you.

Drawing your mouth closer, strong arm wrapping around your thick waist, “I’m saying I love you Y/N and if you’ll have me I’m yours till you kick me out for driving you crazy.”

“You already do that Javi,” watery giggles escaping your lips that brush his twice. Reaching up to card fingers through the soft strands at the back of his head tugging just a little harder than normal. “Say it again.”

Grunting at the tugs sliding a hand down to cup a generous bare ass cheek to give a squeeze. “Drive you crazy.”

Just barely holding in the squeak, “No,” eyes rolling at his cheek. “You know what I mean Javier Peña.”

“I do,” slotting his mouth against yours stealing the breath from your lungs as he kisses you with a passion never felt before. Barely breaking to mumble those three simple words into your lips, “I love you.” Getting lost in your kiss while silently vowing to never let you go or break your heart.

And when I'm returning from so far away

She gives me some sweet lovin' brighten up my day

Yes it makes me righteous, yes it makes me feel whole

Yes it makes me mellow down in to my soul