#and my legs oh my god the blood pooling is genuinely so painful

[lilhawkens]

ahh yes, love those nights where you're simply too symptomatic to sleep

[showfallmediaarchivist]

[Loading…]

[Transcript Begins.]

[Two silhouettes are in the direct view of the camera, vaguely outlined by the light of a flickering television screen. One is smaller, and angled towards a small device, whilst the other appears to be detracting themself from their companion. The taller turns out to be speaking, seemingly at their compatriot]

?: Hey. Hey. I– listen, I… it’s–

[Voice identified: Cassius.]

[There is no sign of a reaction from the figure, only a determined stare at a screen invisible to the lens of the camera]

C: Will, I– do– how– fuck, I’m awful at this.

[Cassius reaches out to tap the other person on the shoulder.]

[The person's demeanor completely changes, grabbing Cassius' hand, and twisting it 180 degrees. It looks at Cassius, with a distantly violent stare.]

?: Don't. Touch. Me.

[Voice identified : The Archivist/William Keane]

C: Sorry– I. I don’t know how to– Jesus that hurts– how do I help?

TA: They killed him. They killed him.

[Cassius glances between the TV and The Archivist. Breathing heavily.]

[His arm is released from The Archivist's grasp, not before a familiar, mechanical crackling is registered. It can almost sound like a growl, if one was to describe it.]

C: [Whispered.] Oh, god.

[The being stares at the opposite person, seemingly keeping watch for any movement. The crackling hasn't stopped, but has came to a low hum, permanent but quiet enough as to not attract much attention]

C: I– I know they did. And I’m sorry. I want to help. Please. Just…

TA: Can't..leave.

[The Archivist's voice cracks, the humming pausing in its methodical whirr. He sounds..almost sad.]

C: What? No, I’m not leaving. I just want to know how to help you before you do something dangerous.

W: Don't..know.

[William's Voice is strained, as if it was in pain as they spoke. His hand appears to be curled tightly into a fist, the skin appearing to have something red dripping from it.]

C: I know I’m not the best at comfort, and… I can’t… bring him back. But I’ll try. It probably won’t be any good.

[The being's head tilts, seemingly listening. It's posture hasn't changed, still in the position he was in before.]

C: I think I… know how you’re feeling. A little. I uh. Told you about… my sister. Right?

W: Mhm..?

C: When I found out about my parents plans, I was angry. I was so full of rage, that I didn’t even see what I’d done to them for at least a minute after I did it. And I didn’t notice that she’d seen me do it. It was a stupid choice, and someone who I cared about ended up dead. I think someone has already gone down that path, Mari. They just murdered a random employee. A very stupid choice if you ask me. But they’re not smart anyway, so–

[The mechanical whirring has begun again, The Archivist letting go of its fist. The monster growls and darts forward, bashing straight into Cassius. It's jaws lock onto wherever they could reach, and rends that piece of flesh away from his body.]

[Cassius shouts, a mix of genuine fear and pain. He is unable to say anything.]

[The Creature almost pauses, letting out a more humane cry of its own, before the whirring proceeds louder, almost deafening. It grabs at his left leg and bashes it, before tugging at it like a weed.]

[Another shout, this time accompanied by words.]

C: WAIT–

[There is something Whispered to Cassius by the creature, just before it pulls off the majority of his limb.]

[Cassius attempts to push it away from him, but he fails. His strength rapidly leaving him by the second.]

[The Archivist stands, staring at the man on the floor, before stamping on Cassius' chest with its metal leg. There is a sickening crunch picked up by the camera.]

[The man twitches once or twice, before all movement halts.]

[After a couple of minutes, the creature's behavior changes. William drops to the floor beside the man, seemingly in shock and distress. There are some hand-movements by the individual, but they don't seem to know where to begin. It starts to cry, kneeled in the steadily pooling blood of his recent victim.]

[Transcript ends.]

[Posting...]

[mrs-avenger3000]

Thanks so much for the request! I hope it’s as as great as the idea! Love you too!!! 🥺💕.

Summary: Natasha’s never one to shy away from a good secret so what happens when she had a brush with death and wants nothing more than to be in her wife’s arms. A wife that nobody knows about apart from her sister, Yelena Belova.

Wife… Since Uh☝🏼 When?

Natasha rushed to the side of the building, her neck pressing against the stone. Her breath was coming out in harsh pants. “Cap, tell me you got the location for the second bomb!” She rushed out, feeling quite distressed. Steve’s heart dropped as he got a confirmed location.

“Nat get away from that build-”

But it was too late. The building exploded outwards, its blaze heating the surrounding air, causing the burning sensation in Natasha’s thigh and arm. She couldn’t get away fast enough, and she was caught in the rubble. Her body was pinned to the floor and ash, bricks, glass you name it and it hit her leaving her in really bad shape. Tears brimmed her eyes, and she screamed loudly as a metal rod impaled itself through her thigh. “Blya der'mo!” (Fucking shit) she yelled. Natasha’s vision blurred slightly as someone rushed over to her.

“Nat! Oh god Nat!” Clint yelled as he, Steve and Tony rushed to her aid. Clint grabbed her hand as he nodded to cap to lift the rubble he did so and Natasha screamed, it was so pain filled it almost brought Clint to tears. The bar was still in her leg, and nobody was planning on taking it out.

“Don’t worry. Help is on the way, an ambulance is on its way to Romanoff. So keep your eyes on me!” Steve snapped, rubbing her hand. Nat nodded, too tired to come up with a smart remark about how looming at him would cause more damage than the blood pooling from her thigh.

“Y/n…” Nat murmured, her eyes fluttering closed. “Somebody call… m-my… wife.”

The three looked at each other, all wearing confused looks. “Who’s y/n?” Tony asked Nat and Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, a rare genuine smile on her lips which looked ridiculous due to the circumstances.

“My love.” She whispered, her eyes closing.

The flashing of the lights of the ambulance let the team know that she was going to make it.

You rushed into the hospital, your heart on your sleeve as you rushed over to the desk. “I- I Natasha um… Natasha Romanoff s-she was admitted. I there was an explosion. Please, I need to see her.”

The desk clerk looked up at me and raised a brow. “What’s your relationship to the patient?”

You clenched your jaw. “She’s my wife! The mother of my child! I- just let me see her.” You rushed out. She nodded and began walking you to her room. Your stomach was a mess with knots. You felt nauseous and your whole body was riddled with nerves. The state of the man on the phone you gathered it was bad. The door was pushed open, you gasped as you saw her. There were wires all over her body, her head was bandaged as were her arms and her legs. She was covered in sweat and her bandages were already covered with blood. You walked over to her, not sure if you could even touch her.

Your hand hovered over her forehead before you delicately stroked her hair. “Oh, baby.” You whispered, your tears falling down your cheeks. She looked so frail… so broken it rocked you to your core as you through about the possibility of her not coming home to you. You turned upon hearing heavy footsteps. Nick Fury and it seems like the rest of the team.

“Y/n-”

You cut him off by slapping him. “You son of a bitch! You promised me she’d never end up here. You- you p-promised. How would I have fucking explained this t-to Melissa? I- can’t.” You yelled, your anger melting into despair as you slammed your fists onto his chest. He wrapped an arm around you and you cried into his chest. You sobbed. He held you for a while until you pulled back, turning to Nat.

“Who are you, and who is Melissa?” someone asked. You turned around, your tears still falling. You recognised him as Tony Stark. Your eyes flickered to Clint, and you said nothing as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Melissa… she’s fine she’s with Laura and the kids.” He stated, and you nodded.

“Wait, you know her. You knew Romanoff was married? Are we the only ones who didn’t know?” Tony muttered, displeased.

“She choose not to tell you. That was her decision.” Clint interjected.

The beeping of machines caused you to turn around. You rushed over to her bedside, glad to see that she was waking up. Her eyes flickered open, and she smiled. Before anything was said, you grabbed her face and kissed her. Displaying everything in that one kiss, your heart felt a little lighter as you felt her response. Your tears had begun to fall again, and she pulled back holding your face in her hands. “Why are you crying, detka?” (Baby)

“You almost died, y-you almost died.”

“Is nobody else concerned with the fact that Romanoff married a Hydra agent?” Tony cut in. You froze, your eyes cutting to his with a dark look in your eyes.

“How-”

“Facial recognition had F.R.I.D.A.Y. run a scan. So am I the only one concerned?” He asked again.

“That was my past.”

“Can you clear a ledger that thick?”

“Stark!” Nat snapped. You swallowed, taking a deep breath.

“Can you? I’ve killed my fair share of people, but you… you profited off the lives taken when you sold your weapons. Black market deals, terrorist attacks. You benefited from the lives of others.”

“I’m reformed I shut it down.” He shot back, and you nodded.

“As did I.”

The room was silent, and Steve smirked, raising a brow. “I like her, her fire matches yours, Romanoff.”

“Thanks, I needed your stamp of approval.” Natasha smirked. You laughed softly as you gripped her hand.

“I love you.” She whispered, shocking the team. Natasha never shows her emotions and for her to so openly and for someone who was the enemy didn’t sit right with Tony, but the rest of the team were shocked at the blatant show of affection. A blush rose up your cheeks as you gave her a soft smile.

“I love you too.” You replied, kissing her forehead.

“It’s still weird.” Tony mumbled.

“Just wait until you meet our daughter.” You smirked, shocking the room into another silence.

Tag list

@blackxwidowsxwife @g-cordelia @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @cristin-rjd @yeetus-thyself @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @upsidedowndanvers @wanda-nats-slut @i1ovewanda @littlewinchester15 @fishlikestuff @gengen64 @procrastinatingsapphictrash @liladoesfanfics @gengen64 @baller-401 @rice-wiife @tomy5girls

I hope you liked it!!

As always, feedback is appreciated! ❤️♾

My requests are still open ❤️

[kzuhadovey]

kentaro’s confession

character: kentaro kyoutani x reader

type: fluff (angst if you squint rlly hard)

warnings: blood, injury, cursing

song recommendations: still into you - paramore

welcome to more word vomit. i’m in love with him and i plan to write more angst for him so yay :DD ALSO ENEMIES TO LOVERS!!!!

You and Kentaro Kyoutani have been enemies ever since you stepped foot in the school. He was always rude to you- insulting and stealing stuff from you. He often made fun of you in public- but you’ve learned to get used to it. A fight almost always erupts when you two are together. He’s always learned to hold back though- to not hit you. Eventually, you’ve grown accustomed to his insults and fits, and you know that he’s just picking at you. You’ve never thought for that to go this far though.

“You’re horrible!” You shout as you try to grasp the already destroyed chicken sandwich in his hand. You’re both at practice, the others are eating lunch inside while you and Kyoutani were fighting over a stupid sandwich. “Stop doing that you brat! Just eat another one- this one’s mine!” Kyoutani shouts back as he pulls you on your shirt. “But I grabbed it from the vending machine first!” You shout, hitting his arm. “Oi oi oi! I’ll buy you another one, Y/N, It’s fine!” Iwaizumi shouts from behind you, trying to stop the fight. “Buy Kyoutani one- this one’s mine!” You say as you jump to get the container. “You brat!” Kyoutani shouts before tugging on your shirt. It was supposed to be a light tug- to get you to stumble backward- but you know- he’s strong. 

 He ends up literally throwing you backward and before you could grasp on his shirt your back is on the floor. “Ow!” You shout as there’s a sharp pain in your leg. Everyone comes rushing to you- but they just observe as you try to sit up. “Y/N. Oi. Get up.” Kyoutani says, a hint of worry in his voice. Your face contorts in pain as you try to sit up. “Oh my god- you’re bleeding a lot.” Iwaizumi says as he notices blood on the concrete floor. You look down- there’s a pool of blood under your leg. You raise your eyebrows in surprise and glance at your leg. There’s a nail in your leg- it’s not in the whole way and it doesn’t look rusty. “Y/N? Are you alright? Does anything feel really painful?” Oikawa asks as he comes to your side, looking around. “Uhm- there's a nail in my leg.” You mutter, tears pricking your eyes as you try to pull the nail out. “It’s okay. We’ll take you to the clinic.” Iwaizumi says as he loops his arm around yours. “Y/N- are you okay?” Kyoutani asks quietly. You glance at him- he looks worried but he still has that rude glint in his eyes. “H-here. You can have the sandwich.” Kyoutani hands you the half-destroyed sandwich. You and the boys are looking at Kyoutani- was he joking? “You can have it. Sorry.” You mutter. You can’t even look at him- your leg was bleeding a lot. “A sandwich? Seriously?” Iwaizumi mutters as he and Oikawa work together to carry you to the clinic. As the three of you went away, Kyoutani instantly went to scrubbing the blood away even if he hated chores, feeling guilty. 

You walked into the court, a bandage around your leg and crutches in your arm. "Hi, coach. Sorry for not attending yesterday-" You nodded towards your leg. "My leg got stabbed by a nail. I'm okay now." You said, smiling and you observed the court. The boys were playing, including Kyoutani, who wasn't paying attention to anything but his ball. You sat down on the bench, sighing. It had been a couple of days after your accident, and you couldn't walk for at least a few days. It sucked really- the team (excluding Kyoutani) visited you and gave you flowers- so that was okay. The boys continued playing until the coach called break. You stood up, ready to give them their bottles.

"Eh? Y/N's back!" Hanamaki shouted, waving at you as the team approached the benches. "Y/N!" Oikawa said, wrapping you in a very- sweaty hug. "Tooru- stop." You say as Iwaizumi drags Oikawa away. "How's your leg?" Iwaizumi asks as he kneels and touches the bandages softly. "It's okay. I probably can walk already but my dad told me to use the crutches in case I fall." You say as you pass him his water bottle. Your eyes are scanning the room for someone without a bottle- and you spot Kyoutani. He's standing there, surprised. "Excuse me, Iwa." You mutter as you walk over to Kyoutani carrying a cold towel and a bottle. 

"Here you go." You say quietly and pass him his bottle. "T-thanks," Kyoutani mutters, looking down at his things. His heart is swelling with guilt- you could almost see some tears even. As you turn around, he grabs your hand. Holy shit- was he gonna insult you now? Calling you a dumb person? "Can we... talk? Please." Kyoutani mutters. Hm. That's unusual. You don't think much about it and you head outside, hoping he would follow you. You can't have 1 conversation without the boys listening to you.

You're looking at your fingers, unbothered as Kyoutani fiddles around with his shirt. "What did you want again?" You protest, rolling your eyes. This was getting annoying. Kyoutani looks up at you, a bit embarrassed. "I wanted to- uh- apologize for the nail thing." He mutters, avoiding eye contact. Ah, apologies. You expected him to just act like nothing was wrong- but apologizing was cool.  "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to throw you back and made you bleed- I really didn't know that there was a nail. If I did, I would have become more careful." You honestly wanted to just ignore and just pick a fight with him- but the apology sounded genuine. God, this was embarrassing. "Okay. Thank you for apologizing. It wasn't your fault anyway." You say, smiling a little. You felt pleased with yourself- the Kentarou Kyoutani had apologized to you. He looks up- with a small smile on his face. It was the first time you've seen it- it was... pretty. "Thank you so much," Kyoutani says. 

He hadn't expected to be forgiven. He honestly thought you would just slap him then walk away- he was very surprised. So with that, he engulfed you in a hug. An actual hug. You paused. Was he- hugging you? The Kentaro Kyoutani? He’s warm, and he’s actually a really good hugger since he’s taller than you. You don’t know what to say- it’s nice to be hugged by him once. He suddenly pulls away- and his hands are cupping your cheeks. “Kentaro-” You’re about to protest when his lips are on yours. Was he… kissing you? Your eyes shoot wide open. You try and look at him- his eyes are closed, and he looks- genuine. His lips taste like caramel- and a bit of sweat. Shit- might as well just enjoy it. You kiss back, closing your eyes- when he pulls away. His eyes are empty- and he looks nervous. “Shit.” Kyoutani mutters. You hear cheers from inside the building- was this a prank? “Kentaro…” You mutter, looking down. You don’t know what to say- what to feel- did he like you this whole time? Was this just a big joke? “I’m sorry.” Kyoutani mutters as he walks back into the court, leaving you alone. 

“Y/N, you don’t need to mop the floors this time. Just mop it once you can walk again, okay?” The coach says as he observes his clipboard. It snaps you out of your trance- you’ve been thinking of Kentaro the whole time. “Yes, coach.” You mutter, standing up to walk away from the benches. “Y/N!” Oikawa shouts. “Hey.” You say, not paying attention. “What you gonna do bout Mad Dog?” Oikawa asks as he walks next to you. “I want to talk to him- but it seems like he’s avoiding me.” You look at the figure across the court, drinking his water angrily. “He’s chugging that shit down like it’s fucking vodka,” Oikawa says as he eyes Kentaro, disgusted. “Do you want to date him?” Oikawa asked. “I dunno. I gotta ask him some stuff first.” You say. “Do whatever you want, love. Just know that he’s liked you since like- the first time you’ve stepped in the court.” Oikawa says, walking away. Since… the first time? Didn’t he hate you? You catch him staring at you- with curious eyes- what could he be thinking about? 

“Kentaro. Kentaro- we should talk.” You say as you approach him. Kentaro’s eyes go wide- holy shit were you talking to him?- “About… what? We have nothing to talk about unless you want to fucking fight me again.” Kentaro says, avoiding eye contact. His cheeks are red- he’s shy. You smile a little- it was kinda cute. “You kissed me. Or did you forget?” You mutter, smiling widely. His cheeks turn even redder- making you smile wider. "Well- that was an accident." He mutters, looking down. "Oh~ so you just- leaned in and pecked me on accident?" You ask, folding your arms. "Well-" His cheeks become even redder- how was that even possible? "Kyoutani. Explain." You say. "There's nothing to explain. Leave me alone." He folds his arms and puts on a confident look- his cheeks a light pink. "Liar! You've liked them since they've been manager here!" Oikawa shouts from behind you. Instantly, his confidence falters and he covers his face- secretly cussing Oikawa out. You shoot a smug smile at Kentaro. “So- you’ve liked me since last year- why were you so mean to me? Stealing my shit and insulting me?” Kentaro looked down- his head was very busy- with comebacks and replies, and he was even thinking of just kissing you right then and there. “Because I like you, I guess,” Kentaro mutters, looking down. “I don’t know- how to tell you.” He scratches his neck awkwardly, waiting for a reply.

So it was true. He did like you. All those times, he’s insulted you, stolen your stuff- it was a silly crush. “Poor Kyoutani. Can’t even confess to his crush.” You say, smiling widely. You were so so happy. You had finally gotten an upper hand to his teasing- so here you were teasing the fuck out of him. “Shut up,” Kyoutani muttered. “I really like you, Y/N. Don’t take it as a joke.” Kyoutani says. For a moment, you pause. Holy shit- he actually liked you. The gears finally clicked in your head and you smiled. “Hey. Kyo.” You say, taking his chin and he looks up at you with very- very cute eyes. It was impulsive really, but you kissed him. It was now his turn to be surprised- he was ready to literally stab you- but he just kissed you back in an instant. You were impressed- he was good at kissing. You giggle into his lips- feeling happy and warm. 

“They’re kissing! Iwa-chan, you owe me 50$!”

A/N: i kinda went empty at the end sorry- i hope it’s nice tho :DD

[superherotiger]

Born Anew From Dust and Blood (Outlaw Irondad AU)

Hello everyone! I’ve been obsessing over this idea for the past week after seeing an old artwork of mine, and couldn’t stop until I had it finished, so please enjoy this completely random Western AU oneshot that I made with my favourite father-son team hah! Also please beware the tags below before you start to read :) Stay safe and please like/reblog/comment if you enjoyed! Your support means the world to me! (And big thanks to Grey who read over it for me as I wrote!)

(Trigger Warning: Skip Westcott, implied sexual assault of a minor, violence and murder)

Ao3 Link

~~~~~~~~~~

“Not another step.”

Warm, brown eyes grew wide at the unfamiliar voice, turning ever so slowly to face the speaker as the sound of a gun locking into place echoed through the stable like thunder. The boy froze on instinct, visibly shaking with terror as his gaze levelled another set of brown eyes, though these ones were steely and worn down with age. Blood red rays from the sunset poured over the stalls and horses, and though the intruder’s dark suit blended perfectly into the shadows, his face was anything but a secret. The boy’s eyes grew impossibly wider.

“You’re… you’re the Iron Bandit,” the stable boy breathed, half in awe and half in terror, which was entirely reasonable considering said outlaw was still aiming a gun to his chest with a calculating glare.

But seeming to find no danger in the scruffy, wild-haired child who couldn’t be older than twelve, the outlaw lowered his gun and leant back into the stack of hay he had found himself resting against for the past hour. He’d planned to take one of the horses and rendezvous back with his crew, the infamous Avengers, but that’s the thing about bank robberies. They tended to end in shootouts, which usually ended in a situation like this.

“Oh my god… you’re- you’re bleeding,” the boy suddenly stuttered as he realised the deep crimson blood that had pooled onto the stable floor beneath the outlaw’s leg.

The Iron Bandit huffed, dropping his head back against the hay as another wave of exhaustion rolled over him. “That’s usually what bullets do,” he muttered sarcastically.

“Oh jeez, can- can I do something?” the boy asked rapidly, surprising the outlaw with the genuine concern etched into his features as he shifted from foot to foot. Anxious to help, but unsure if he should get any closer to one of the most notorious criminals in the state.

Unsure what to do with a reaction that wasn’t outright fear or hatred though, the Bandit just rolled his eyes and said “Stop talkin’ so loudly for a start kid. I’m trying not to get caught if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, right! S-Sorry,” the boy stammered out, wringing his hands together in the most endearing display of sheepishness that the Bandit had ever seen. “Are… um, are you okay sir?”

“Just swell, as you can see,” the Bandit said with a dramatic sweep of his hand.

The boy’s cheeks tinged red as he dug his heel into the soil, saying “Sorry… I, uh, I’ve never talked to a real cowboy before…”

“Does that mean you’ve talked to fake cowboys before?” the Bandit joked, feeling his lips twitch upward when the boy let out an amused snort.

“You’re funny.”

“I try,” the Bandit mused.

“Are you sure I can’t help?” he asked again, the terror from before replaced with worry that the Bandit hadn’t even seen in his own crew’s eyes for many years.

“Yeah kid, I’m fine,” the Bandit assured. He didn’t say how the wound felt like a wildfire in his nerves, or how the amount of blood that was already seeping into the hay was probably fatal. He didn’t say that he wanted to fall asleep right there and never wake up.

No, the Bandit just mustered a smile and stifled the pain, because this was only a kid. A kind, innocent kid. And while he might be an outlaw, the Iron Bandit was no monster.

And maybe, just maybe, this boy saw that too, because after hesitantly stepping forward until he could crouch beside the man, his face grew somber with understanding and, more surprisingly, grief. Loss haunted the depths of his once youthful eyes, and the Bandit recognised a familiarity in his posture as he assessed the gnarly bullet wound, like he had seen it before… like he had been in this very position sometime in his past.

Curiosity overruled his usual wariness, and the Bandit found himself just watching silently as the stable boy stared down at the wound, an endearing little crease in his brow as he got lost in thought. And when the boy stood up and offered out his little, dusty hand, saying “I can help sir, I wanna help,” the Bandit didn’t find himself fighting, as he so often did these days. Instead he listened- listened to a stable boy of all people, and actually accepted his help. Actually hobbled up to his feet with the boy supporting his wounded side as they shuffled into a nearby shed, which the outlaw quickly realised must have been the boy’s sleeping quarters as he collapsed against the stiff, rickety bed.

“Christ, a boulder would be better than this,” the Bandit muttered.

“It’s not so bad when you get used to it,” the boy chuckled as he pulled out some spare rags from a chest and tied them around the Bandit’s leg, staunching the blood flow as best as possible.

The Bandit wasn’t sure why he let him do it exactly. He told himself it was because of the blood loss, that he’d just been too weary to fight it, but it was undeniable that the Bandit felt a strike of fondness for the kid who had offered nothing but kindness to a hardened criminal like himself. Such gentleness, and generosity, and selflessness was hard to come by these days, and the Bandit wasn’t going to let it be destroyed, at least not by his hand.

“You got a name kid?”

The boy glanced up in surprise, fine curls of hair framing his bright smile as he answered, “Peter, sir.”

And offering a genuine smile of his own, the Bandit said “Thanks Pete... And you can call me Tony. Sir makes me feel like a prick.”

The brief moment of surprise that crossed Peter’s expression at the name was replaced with a bout of laughter by the end, and Tony couldn’t help but soften at the boy whose eyes shimmered like the stars that littered the sky outside. When the chuckles had fallen back into a comfortable silence and Peter had brought over a damp rag for them each, the two began to wipe away the blood that stained their hands, Tony’s carved with scars and blisters while Peter’s were calloused from relentless hours of labour.

“So, how’d you end up in this pit kid?” the man eventually asked, quickly wishing he hadn’t when he noticed Peter’s jaw clench in response.

“Family died,” the boy answered softly, shrugging away the weight of his statement as if it were a mere turn of weather. “The mines took my Pa, and my Ma and Aunt got new- um… new…?”

“Pneumonia?” Tony offered softly.

“Yeah… that,” Peter murmured, wringing his fingers together again as he added shakily, “And my uncle Ben… he… he got shot tryin’ to stop a thief.”

Realisation dawned on the outlaw like lightning piercing through a storm as he glanced down at his crudely bandaged leg, a flash of those haunted young eyes appearing across his vision, before he turned back to the boy with a sigh. One of understanding, but also of something less common… something like care.

“He a good man?” Tony asked, breaking the dreaded silence that hung in the air.

Fondness swirled into the former sorrow as Peter glanced over to the far wall and replied, “The best. He was kind, and strong… he taught me everything I know.” The weak smile that had worked onto Peter’s expression was slowly shadowed with darkness once more, scratching at his neck almost anxiously as he murmured “That’s, um… that’s how I got here, actually. I knew how to look after horses, so I was useful, I guess…”

Tony nodded slowly and swept his gaze across the shed, taking in the cramped, dreary walls and leaking roof. There were no belongings on the shelves. No pictures or toys or books or anything a normal child should have. The room was practically barren besides the rickety bed and a small chest of clothing, and Tony felt his heart sink for the boy beside him. Being an outlaw was by no means a luxurious life, but even the Iron Bandit had more than this.

Even Tony hadn’t lost as much as Peter had in his young life.

“So… who’s got you now then?” the outlaw asked carefully.

The boy tensed up in the corner of his eye, and Tony felt his suspicions spike like ice spreading through his chest.

“Mr Westcott,” Peter eventually murmured, fingers locked together to hide the fact they were shaking. “He’s… I don’t like him very much.”

“Why’s that?” Tony pressed.

“Uh, he... w-well he…” Peter floundered for a moment as he tried to find the words, but in the end, his voice just trailed away into an uncanny silence.

“He mean to you kid?” Tony asked as he eyed the boy for any injuries. The outlaw was no stranger to abuse, or what it felt like to be beaten down as a child by someone with far too much power and control over you. But the answer he ended up getting was almost worse.

“He’s… friendly,” Peter said, eyes hollow and cold with something Tony couldn’t understand. “…Too friendly…”

But before the Bandit could dwell on his ominous words for long, Peter shook his head as if trying to chase away a bad thought and turned back to the Bandit with a shaky smile. “Enough about me, what about you?” he asked with those entrancing eyes of his. “I’ve heard so many stories, and- and I know you’re part of the Avengers and all, but they don’t hold a candle to the things I’ve heard about you!”

Tony blinked, stunned at the rapid flood of words, only to soften into a smile at the pure excitement radiating out of the boy like sunshine.

“Is it true that you robbed a train singlehandedly last year?” Peter asked, voice reduced to an awed whisper.

“True as can be,” Tony chuckled.

“Will- will you tell me about it? About life out there on the run?”

And hell, how could the Iron Bandit say no to those curious, beaming eyes?

So as the moon crawled up the horizon, the little shed became filled with tales of bank heists and train robberies, of lands far and wide and the many adventures it took to see them. Peter sat beside the outlaw, completely enraptured, as he retold his most entertaining stories both with and without his fellow Avengers, lifting up the victories while leaving out the horrors. The shootouts and spilt blood they left in their wake. He got the sense that Peter had already seen enough cruelty in his life as it was.

Maybe that was what surprised the bandit most of all though; that this kid who had lost and grieved and suffered at every turn could somehow still be so innocent, so awestruck by a world that had shown him nothing but scorn. Even earlier that day when he was faced with an injured outlaw, the very same type of criminal that had stolen his uncle away from him, Peter offered him only concern and assistance. Had offered him compassion, which was more than a person like Tony deserved.

He wondered when Peter would be rewarded for his years of trials, when his kindness would finally be repaid.

And the horrifying answer returned: Not yet.

A clatter of something out in the stables had both outlaw and stable boy freezing mid sentence, Tony’s hand immediately falling over his gun while the boy jumped up to his feet in panic. No wait, not panic… dread. Like he knew what was coming and was powerless to stop it.

Acting on instinct, Tony forced himself back onto his shaky feet and hobbled towards the door, gun out of its holster and finger on the trigger in the blink of an eye. The Iron Bandit feared nothing- no one. But when Tony glanced over towards the boy still frozen in place beside the bed, his heart dropped like a stone into a deep, icy lake when he took in his petrified expression.

“It’s him…” Peter whispered, eyes wide with fear and the trembling spreading out from his hands to his entire scrawny frame. “I… I don’t want to…”

It was spoken so softly, so weakly, that Tony almost missed it. But he didn’t miss the terror that bled out of every syllable, or the tears that had begun to pool in his haunted doe eyes. Whoever this was, they were a threat to Peter. In what way, Tony wasn’t sure, but any threat to the kid would be six feet under if he had any say in the matter.

So, following his instincts, Tony shifted behind the reach of the door and listened to the heavy footsteps that approached from the other side. They were close now, and Tony always preferred the element of surprise when possible. He’d hoped that Peter would get behind him when he waved him over, but the boy remained paralysed like a deer caught in headlights, too far out of reach for the bandit to pull him over by force.

But before the urge to pull the kid behind him could take over, the door creaked open at a painstakingly slow pace, causing both Peter and Tony to become as still as statues. There was a moment of hesitation from the opposite side of the door, before it swung open enough for the intruder to step in and reveal himself unknowingly to the outlaw waiting in the shadows. It only took a heartbeat for Tony to make his assessment, seeing no weapon on the stranger’s figure but already despising his groomed, snowy hair and overconfident smirk. He smelt of rich cologne and the metallic scent of wealth, which Tony recognised from all the scummy bankers he’d robbed over the years.

But his distaste quickly shifted to a cold fury when the man stepped closer to the both with a sickening leer, making Peter flinch under his gaze.

“You’re awake,” the man observed, his voice falsely sweet.

“I… I c-couldn’t sleep,” Peter whispered as he kept his eyes trained to the floor, unaware of Tony pushing himself away from the wall with amazingly stealthy movements.

The Bandit had been in dozens of deathly situations in his life, and he knew the feeling of danger more deeply than that of comfort. But this was something different. Something cold and acidic that burnt at his very skin and churned his stomach with dread, telling him to move, to fight, to protect-

“Well,” the man crooned just before his hand ghosted over the ridge of Peter’s collar bone like the filthy monster that Tony realised he was. “I can fix that…”

A sob slipped out of Peter’s mouth, and something inside of Tony snapped at the sound of it.

Fury like nothing the outlaw had ever experienced before exploded out of his chest in a guttural roar, pouncing forward before the man could even think of laying another finger on the boy and throwing him into the opposite wall by his collar. It took all of Tony’s energy to bite back a snarl as he levelled the man’s startled blue eyes, relishing the horror that washed over his features when he recognised the outlaw’s face.

Good, Tony thought bitterly. Be scared while you still can.

“Peter,” he managed to say with an even tone, never breaking his fierce staring match with the man who began to squirm and struggle under his grasp. A quick knee to the gut was all it took to silence him though, his whimpers getting muffled into scratchy exhales as the Bandit shoved his arm against the man’s throat.

“T-Tony?” a broken voice replied, stabbing at the Bandit’s heart when he heard the cries Peter was desperately trying to suppress. But as much as it pained him to ignore it, Tony could only steel his nerves and tell himself he’d help Peter later. That there would be all the time in the world to help him when he was through with the low life before him.

“Get the horses ready,” he ordered calmly. Too calm for the expression of pure hatred the bandit had fixed on the man right now.

Thankfully, Peter didn’t object, disappearing out the door with a weary sniffle before his footsteps faded into the distance.

A beat of silence passed through the room as Tony held the man against the wall, enjoying every moment he trembled under his fists, before he asked with a sneer “Westcott, I assume?”

The man tried to speak but the pressure against his neck was too fierce to even breathe fully let alone talk. It didn’t really matter though. The strike of terror in his eyes was enough of an answer for the outlaw, and he had never taken such great pleasure in firing his gun as he had in that moment.

The scream that Westcott made when the bullet went through his stomach was one Tony hoped to remember, and finally stepping back from the wall, he watched the pitiful man crumble to his knees with a stuttering exhale. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough for someone as horrid as him.

So holstering his gun, Tony pulled out the iron knuckle dusters from his jacket -the very ones that had earned him the title of the Iron Bandit all those years ago- and slipped them over his hands with a final, icy glare.

“I’d say start praying,” he growled. “But ain’t nobody up there’s gonna be able to save you from me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The air was cool and crisp as Peter gazed up at the expanse of stars above, marvelling in their beauty, in their silence, as he tried to ignore the scene he had left behind in the stables. Tremors still ran through his fingertips as he smoothed down the mane of the horse by his side -a strong stallion named Jarvis that would easily keep up with an outlaw like Tony-, and drew comfort from the memory of the Iron Bandit’s stories and laughter.

It had been the first time since Ben’s death that Peter didn’t feel weighed down by shackles of guilt and shame, and he’d wanted to hold onto that warmth for just a little while. Just a single night- that’s all he asked for.

But then Mr Westcott walked through the door, and Peter couldn’t breathe- couldn’t move, and the panic was so fierce and overwhelming that he’d forgotten about the other person hidden by the door until-

Peter was jerked from his spiralling thoughts by the sound of boots crushing dry grass, whipping around so fast it might have hurt his neck if not for the relief that flooded over him at the sight of the familiar figure.

“You’re okay,” he breathed with a smile, causing a brief flicker of amusement to cross the Bandit’s expression. He had a slight limp as he approached the stable boy -most likely from his earlier bullet wound-, but it was the blood that caked his knuckles that really caught Peter’s attention, straightening slightly as he searched the outlaw for any new injuries. The concern was purely instinctual at this point though, since he knew, deep down, that the blood didn’t belong to him. It couldn’t. He wouldn’t be standing let alone walking if he’d lost the amount of blood that now stained his dark coat.

But if Tony noticed Peter’s worried gaze he didn’t mention it, glancing past his shoulder to the midnight-black horse with a confused furrow of his brow.

“Where’s the other one?”

“Oh,” Peter murmured, recoiling slightly as he searched the man’s face for the disappointment that surely must have been there. “I… I-I didn’t realise you wanted more…”

The Bandit levelled him with a perplexed stare, but as Peter began to fidget with his still shuddering hands, realisation seemed to dawn on Tony like sunlight burning away a winter fog. “Not for me kid, for you,” he quickly clarified, causing Peter to become the confused one instead.

“Me? Why me?” he asked.

Tony smirked, asking lightly “Well would you prefer to walk instead?”

Peter could only blink up at the outlaw with wide, disbelieving eyes, the shock falling into awe, and then into excitement, and finally, a cold misery. “Why...?” he asked, voice a weak murmur. “Why would- would you help me?”

A heavy sigh escaped Tony’s mouth as he ran a thumb over his bloodied knuckles, saying sincerely “There’s nothing left for you back there kid. No life, no future in that stable… at least not one you deserve.”

Peter glanced away to the far horizon. To the hills and fields that reached further than his imagination could even fathom, and he winced at the longing that ached inside his heart. “This is the only life I’ve ever known,” he admitted wearily. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin… where to go, what to do…”

“Then join me, and I’ll help you find it,” Tony offered, his expression so serious it might have worried Peter if he hadn’t witnessed the full extent of his fury only minutes ago. “If you wanna leave at any point, then you can take your horse and go. But until then, stay with me and my crew, and no one will ever lay a finger on you again.”

The breeze swept over them and replaced the faint scent of copper with that of fresh grass and dusty soil, of nature and adventure. The call of freedom was strong, but his fear was even stronger. It was only when Peter turned back to the outlaw to see not the legendary thief or fierce, deadly criminal, but a friend… a protector who had saved him from more horrors than he could bare to voice, that the terror melted away.

“You’d do that for a nobody like me?” Peter asked as his hands began to tremble with anticipation instead of dread.

Tony’s face lifted into a smile, and after raising his hand between them and awaiting the boy’s reaction, he lowered it over Peter’s shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re not nobody to me.”

Something bright and strong and safe bloomed inside of Peter’s chest, and he could almost feel the weight of the world lift from his young shoulders with the help of Tony’s words. Smiling up at the outlaw who he had saved and who had saved him in return, Peter shut his eyes and drew in a steady breath. The last breath taken by the broken stable boy of Westcott farm, and the first breath taken by the free and alive Peter Parker.

“Thank you,” Peter whispered as Tony helped him saddle up another horse for the journey ahead, settling on a kind mare that he affectionately named Karen. “Thank you for everything, Tony… I mean it…”

Giving the boy a warm pat on the back before they both climbed a top their steeds, Tony flashed him one last smile and gazed off towards the horizon of untold potential. Where it would lead, neither of them would know, but Tony was certain that this kid had a bright future ahead of him. And if he didn’t, then Tony would make sure to forge it for him with his very own hands.

“Come along Young Buck,” Tony called, softening at the beaming smile that Peter offered in reply. “There’s a big world out there just waiting for you to join it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @joyful-soul-collector @lost-lunar-wolf @lbigreyhound13 @aixabi @zanderljones @iwritedumbshit @anarinette

[definitelynotkatesblog]

6 PM ∣ Spencer Reid Fic

Summary: Spencer has very eagerly awaited your return home and he did not like to be kept waiting.

A/N: This entire fic literally came to me as I was writing 6 AM. I was thinking of titles in the back of my mind, and at one point was trying to describe Spencer’s behavior as night and day then BOOM- 6 PM was born. Anyways, enjoy some smut, ya filthy animals.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fingering, Oral sex (female receiving), Mild exhibitionism (phone), cursing

WC: 2.1k

Coming home to Spencer was objectively the best part of my day. The annoyances and the stress all melted away as soon as my key turned the lock, knowing he was on the other side of the door.

I twisted my key in the door and was surprised when it opened before I could even fully twist the knob. I looked up to see my handsome man standing in the doorway with a hungry look in his hooded eyes.

I grinned and stepped inside, expecting to be welcomed home with kisses and a ‘How was your day?’. What I was welcomed with was far from it.

Spencer’s hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside, closing the door quickly behind me before flattening my back against it, caging me with his body.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he breathed. His knuckles slowly brushed the side of my face.

Once my brain caught up to my body, my eyes searched his and found a dark hunger that made my heartbeat pound in the junction of my thighs.

“I’m sorry-”

“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he said. His tone was playful, but paired with the look in his eyes I knew better than to think he was joking. That didn’t stop me from plastering a wicked grin on my face, though. “In that case, I’m really sorry.”

My hands snaked around his waist, forming fists in the material of his shirt, pulling it taut around his torso.

Our lips crashed together, his impatient avidity heating the space between us. I teased him with a quick sweep of my tongue across his bottom lip before pulling my head back when he leaned forward. I smiled against his lips, but was quickly made aware of the severity of my mistake.

One hand skated up and over my chest, resting on my collarbone while the other flexed around my hip. He raked my bottom lip between his teeth, biting down harder as the plump skin dragged between them. A whimper escaped my throat, the mix of pain and pleasure creating a pool of heat low in my belly.

He rolled his hips forward slightly, alerting me to the presence of the bulge growing in his pants.

A hungry moan left my lips and spilled into his mouth, fueling the fire burning between us. His hands flew to my hair, lacing his fingers through and grabbing a fistful in one while the other pulled me impossibly closer by the nape of my neck.

The shrill cry of his phone ringing cut through the electric charge in the air, ruining a perfectly good moment. He pulled away from me, leaving me breathless as he casually walked away to answer. I swiped my thumb across my bruised lip and inspected it for blood before trying to read his body language from across the room to determine if he’d be swept away for a case or not.

I huffed and smoothed my dress, making my way over to him. He paced around the living room, his eyes darting left and right, processing and figuring. He looked so cute when he was concentrating. What a shame it would be if someone were to… distract him.

I plopped down on the couch and bent over to start unbuckling the strap around my ankle. Spencer waving caught my attention from my peripheral. He covered the bottom half for a second and tilted the phone away from him for a moment. “Leave them on,” he whispered.

Oh?

A wicked grin spread across my lips as he rambled on about some gory happenings in a city a few towns over. I sauntered over and stood in front of him, sure to make heavy enough eye contact for him to furrow his brow before I dropped to my knees.

He shot me a warning look that I promptly ignored, running my hands up his legs to the front of his thighs. I palmed him through the fabric of his pants, looking up through my lashes to see his jaw clenched and his fist coming up to cover his mouth, biting a knuckle.

My hand wandered, pawing coyly until I felt him harden under my touch.

“Yeah, mhm. Okay-”

I began unbuttoning his pants, humming to myself as his hand came down and closed around my wrist. He looked genuinely shocked at my behavior. Served him right for earlier.

Unphased, I used my other hand to pick up where the other left off.

“Alright, thanks.” He tapped the screen and looked down at me, his eyebrows raised.

I smiled sweetly and stood up, dusting off my knees.

“You almost made me hang up on my boss!”

“Hmm, Emily would have understood.” I pressed a quick kiss to his lips and patted him through his pants.

I turned to walk towards the kitchen, leaving him standing there with a half-hard cock and his jaw on the ground.

“How does Chinese sound for dinner?” I asked, digging through a drawer of miscellaneousness to find the glossy pamphlet.

“Sounds good. Will you call and order?” he called from the bedroom.

I nodded to myself, leaning over the counter to flip through the menu to decide. This place had quickly become our go-to take out spot; a quaint family-run hole in the wall with decent pricing and portion sizes.

“I don’t know why you flip through it if you’re going to get the same thing every time,” he laughed from behind me. “Because!” I countered, the one word being my only rebuttal. He wasn’t wrong.

His hands slid around my hips, while he rubbed his hips against my backside. I smiled to myself at his bulge having not yet resolved itself.

I dialed the number we both- well, I, knew by heart and held the phone to my ear, lazily swaying my hips from my bent over position. His fingers flexed around my hips, forming a grip.

A bored sounding voice answered the phone. “Thank you for calling CC’s Chinese Cuisine. Can you hold?”

“Yeah, I can hold.”

I stood and spun around, throwing one arm over his shoulder while the other held the phone to my ear. I toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging it a little with a wink. His eyes raked over my face, dark and hooded like they were when I first got home.

His hands on my hips quickly spun me back around, one hand flying to the space between my shoulder blades to bend me over again.

The change of pace made my head spin for a moment and my cheeks flush. His hands quickly made their way to the hem of my dress, lifting it to the small of my back. A small giggle escaped my lips at his brashness. I turned around expecting to see a playful look on his face, but found his jaw clenched, watching me intently instead. One hand moved to gather the fabric of my dress  while the other skated along the skin of my belly at the waistline of my underwear. My breath hitched as his fingers made their way past the barrier.

“Thank you for holding. How can I help you?” Somehow the voice on the phone sounded even more bored than before.

“Wh- Um, yes I’d like to place an order for delivery, please.”

My free hand on the counter moved to stop the southbound motion of his hand. His hand deftly avoided mine, instead grabbing my hand and placing it firmly on the counter again.

His hand returned, this time landing directly on its mark, slipping a finger between my folds.

“Sp-”

He shushed me and rolled his hips, pressing his hardness into my backside again.

“Go ahead.”

Spencer’s finger worked in quick circles, swirling around my clit then pushing into me, joined by another digit moments later. His thrusts were slow at first, coaxing my wetness to slide down his fingers. His hand remained on the small of my back, keeping me compromised and at his mercy.  

“Can I please have an orange chicken w-with lo mein noodles-” I brought the phone away from my mouth, silencing a moan. “A-and a beef and broccoli with veggie fried r-rice.”

“Okay,” the voice droned.

The irony was not lost on me that the lack of enthusiasm on the other end of the phone was being met and exceeded by the red, hot coil winding in my core.

“Don’t forget the rangoons,” he whispered from behind me.

Son of a bitch, I wanted to be off of this god damned phone call already.

“I’d like to add an order of crab rangoons to that as well, please.” I squeaked out.

“Let me check if we have anymore. Can you hold?”

“Mmmm, so wet.” Spencer said, only loud enough for me to hear. My hand flew to my mouth to cover the gasp threatening to escape.

His fingers switched their tempo, now curving just so before diving deeper with each thrust.

“YES. Yes. Uh huh, I’ll hold.” As soon as I heard the phone be put down and the voice shouting in the background, I slammed my fist against the counter and let out the frustrated moan I’d been trying to suppress.

“Fucking hell, Spencer! What are you-”

He didn’t answer, instead removing his hand and dropping to his knees, pulling my underwear down with him. With my heels still on, he was at perfect eye level with the mess he was making.

He hummed from behind me, dragging a single finger through the wetness threatening to drip down my thighs.

I swallowed the pant crawling up my throat as the voice came back on the phone.

“Okay we have them. Is that all?”

Spencer’s hands found their way to the tops of my thighs, forcing them apart before laying a long lick between my folds, damn near knocking me off my feet. I felt my legs start to shake as his laps got quicker, the sounds of his moans into me enough to make me cry.

“Yep, mhm, that’s all” I squeaked, biting my finger between my teeth to contain the scream building in my throat. His fingers crept their way up to my clit again, slipping to form quick circles as his mouth and tongue continued to work.

“Okay, that’ll be, uh-” the voice hesitated, and I could faintly hear keys clacking on the other end. At this point I wasn’t sure what was going to come first, me or the total.

God, I could fucking scream.

“$23.50.” the voice said. “Give it 30 minutes or so.”

“Okaythanksbye” I rushed, smashing the end button and pulling the phone away from my face. At this point, I couldn’t be bothered to be polite.

Spencer’s mouth continued relentlessly- sucking and thrusting while his fingers formed a V and slid on either side of my clit, gently squeezing and drawing downward slightly. Stars started to cloud my vision as a guttural moan left my chest, finally able to escape my body.

My head fell to the side, my cheek pressed up against the cool counter top- the hot and cold offering a new sense of stimulation to my poor body.

“Oh, god.”

He moaned against me as my walls spasmed around his fingers, my orgasm racking through my body like glass shattering, creating a mosaic of pleasure. The white hot fire coursing through my veins illuminated me from within like a stained glass masterpiece at a chapel. Spencer was on his knees worshipping me, devouring me like the blood and body of Christ himself on a holy Sunday. His name left my mouth like a prayer as I begged him for mercy and repented for my sins.

My body fell limp on the countertop, my chest heaving as broken breaths shuddered from my lungs. Spencer’s fingers slowed and his lips pressed soft kisses against my cheeks as I put my pieces back together again. He chuckled from his position on his knees and dragged one last finger through my wetness before popping it into his mouth and sucking it clean.

The sight alone made me knees weak and reignited the flame in my belly. My attempt to stand was thwarted by my legs going into full Bambi mode, struggling to balance in my heels. Spencer stood and grabbed my hips, offering his support while stifling a laugh. I shot him the dirtiest look I could manage in my fragile state.

“He probably knew what was happening!” I whined.

“Yeah, I don’t think he would mind,” he said on a wink.

“You know,” he said casually, “We still have about 27 minutes.”

***

Let’s chat!

[pressedinthepages]

Wash

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Jaskier/Reader

Rating: E

Masterlist

a/n:  Reader Request: [Hi! What about Jaskier saving the female reader but getting hurt in the process. So she takes care of him after. One day she's helping him to take a bath and Jaskiers body is reacting a bit too excited. But she doesn't mind and decides to extend her help a little bit …]  ok so here’s the tea, i totally forgot about the jaskier saving the day part...so i wrote this instead XD

also thanks to @sometimesiwrite​ for being 10/10.

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: language, smut, fluff, blood

Jaskier stumbles into a tavern and finds a friendly face.

    Your chin rests in your hands as your eyelids grow heavier with each passing moment. It’s late, and there hasn’t been a guest in your tavern since the snow started falling when the sun set. Everyone headed home, leaving you here to watch the hours tick by. 

    Now, the moon hangs high in the sky and the snow falls steadily outside, blanketing the world in silent tranquility. That is, until the heavy door to the tavern bursts open with a flurry of snow and icy air, and quickly shut once more. But there was not only a light dusting of snow on the floor now.

    A young man, seemingly deposited straight from the pages of a maiden’s storybook, leans against the door. His cloak hangs askew on his shoulders and he is clutching an expensive-looking doublet in long, pale fingers. He looks up at you and you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips. His cheeks and nose are pink with chill, making his eyes look like they are glowing in the dim light of your tavern.

    Oh, and those eyes. Bluer than the clearest sea, and you can see that they hold depths beneath them that could turn even the most experienced sailor dizzy.

    “Ah, well met,” the man breathes, his chest heaving as he catches his breath in the warm room. He stands to his full height now, several inches taller than you, and slides his cloak off of his frame. You gasp when his chemise is revealed, the shoulder torn and stained with blood the color of rich wine. 

    You rush to his side, taking the cloak and his doublet from him and tossing them onto a nearby hook for travelers. Quickly throwing the lock down for the door, you usher him towards the rear of the tavern where your living quarters rest. “By the Gods, are you alright…?”

    “Jaskier, my name is Jaskier, dear,” he smiles, but you can see the twinge of pain now that you are a bit closer. “And while I have been better, I have certainly been in nastier scraps. Nothing to be worried about.”

    You give him your name in return before you turn to stoke the fire that had been warming water for your own bath that night. “Well forgive me, Jaskier, but I think that it may be a good idea for me to worry enough for the both of us.”

    He genuinely laughs at that, leaning carefully against the wall. Fuck, his voice drips like honey from a pot. Your cheeks warm a bit as you lift the pot, pouring the warm water into your tub on the floor. “We need to get you cleaned up so I can take a look at that.”

    Jaskier quirks a brow, mischief painting his features in broad strokes. “What, the local tavern owner is the healer too?”

    You shake your head good-naturedly, gesturing to him to join you. “The closest healer is in the next town over, but I have seen my fair share of injuries.”

    “Then I should count myself lucky that it was your tavern I found myself in.” Jaskier moves quickly, reaching up to pull at the already loose strings to his shirt. He undoes them and it falls open and off of him, cascading to the ground in a pool of creamy fabric streaked with crimson.

    His chest is broader than it originally seemed, and, Melitele help you, covered in dark hair. You can see the strength that his body carries covered by a gentle layer of softness, almost certainly from a good diet of wine and good company. 

    And then he flinches as his fingers drift to the laces of his trousers, his shoulder twitching in pain. “C-could you?” He looks up sheepishly, and your hands reach out before you can think twice about it.

    Your hands shake as the laces fall open and you look up and away to try and preserve at least some of his modesty, but you can feel how warm and solid his legs are as you push the pants down to the ground.

    “Thank you, sweet girl,” Jaskier says, holding his hand out to help you up. You lead him towards the warm bath you’ve prepared and help him settle in before pulling up a stool behind him.

    The moan that he lets out, though, when he reclines back in the bath, would make a priestess blush. The heat from the water flushes his chest and his head thunks against the rim of the tub and his blue, blue eyes blink open at you.

    You swallow in an attempt to quell the redness creeping across your cheeks, but it's no good. The best you can hope for is that your professionalism won't let you down. 

"We should get that wound clean and bandaged before you lose blood into the hot water," you say, having dealt with your fair share of injuries from tavern brawls and travelers. Even a witcher once came through with a bloody brow... took some convincing to let you clean him up, but he eventually conceded. He was nice, you thought as you got your med kit from behind the bar. Nicer than you'd've expected when he first came in, scowling and bloody and asking for vodka. You hum to yourself as you look for the right bottle.

“Do you sing?” Jaskier asks, seemingly unperturbed by his injury. You turn back to him with the bottle of clear alcohol in hand, your skirt swirling around on the floor. “Not typically, no,” you reply, sitting back down on the stool and uncorking the bottle. Your free hand finds his uninjured shoulder and rubs soothing circles over the tan skin. “This will sting.”

He inhales sharply and grits out a moan as the everclear wicks into his open wound, “Vayopatis that smarts!!” 

“I’m sorry. A bit of tough love, I’m afraid. Hold still.” Your words are firm but your touch is gentle and caring as you continue.

“So,” you ask lightly as you dip a clean cloth into the water, lifting it to the wound, “just how did you find yourself with this?” 

“Ah, nothing far out of sorts,” Jaskier replies, his voice thin and pained. “Heard someone speaking poorly of a dear friend of mine, so I gave them a piece of my mind. As I turned to walk away, they threw a knife at me! A KNIFE! Coward.”

“Seems you got lucky, looks like it just grazed the skin.” The wound has stopped bleeding now, and Jaskier seems to be melting a bit under your hands. “You still with me?” 

“Oh, very much so,” Jaskiers voice is thick and strained, and his neck has flushed a pretty pink.

“Would you like me to help, ah...wash?” Your voice trembles a bit as you reach down next to you for the soap.

Jaskier smiles, his shoulders relaxing and his knees poking up above the water as he gets comfortable. “I’ll never say no to a bath from a lovely lady.”

You roll your eyes and laugh a little, the tension easing away like suds in the water. You add some soap to the cloth and drag it across his back, over the lines of muscle and down his spine. You are careful around the tender skin of his injured shoulder, but he seems content to lay and let you wash him. 

The air turns thick in the room with the warmth of the water and you can feel sweat bead at the nape of your neck. You unlace the neck of your shirt and let it fall open, the soft skin of your breasts just peeking out into the night. You stand and bring the stool around to sit at Jaskiers side facing him, and you don’t miss when his eyes linger on your exposed bosom.

You hold out your hand expectantly and Jaskier’s gaze falls to your fingers. He stares for a moment, his mind drawing a blank as the air around him feels tighter and tighter. You clear your throat and wiggle your fingers, and Jaskier finally gets the hint. He slides his hand into yours and you hold up his arm, running the soapy cloth down from his shoulder to his wrist. The grime of travel is washed away with every stroke, and Jaskier swallows thickly with each passing moment, warmth blossoming low in his belly. 

You can’t claim to be unaffected either, for you can feel his gaze burning into your skin like a brand. But not in an unwelcome, perverse way. No, Jaskier’s eyes watching your every move feel curious, searching for an answer to a yet unasked question.

Once both arms are clean you lean in, pressing the cloth to the broad expanse of his chest. You drag it lazily over the crook of his collarbone and down through the soft smattering of hair on his skin. His breath hitches and his cheeks turn pink when you brush over his nipple, and you bite the inside of your cheek in an effort to stifle your own moan at the noise.

Your hand drifts lower over his stomach and you can feel it rise and fall with each of his breaths. You are just about to dip below the line of the water when Jaskier’s hand suddenly darts out and catches your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You instantly retreat, cheeks growing warm with the ideas of what exactly you were about to do.

“Ah, darling, wait,” Jaskier breathes, keeping your hand tight in his. “I just-I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea...y-you’ve been so wonderful and I-uh, my body is ah, well. Very appreciative...” 

You blink as your heart does flips in your chest and you only barely resist the urge to glance down to the water between his legs. “Well, if you wanted...I coul-I could help?”

And then, Jaskier’s face does something truly remarkable. It turns from the soft, apologetic young man to something darker, more primal. His eyes dilate and he grins toothily, and he tips his chin up, exposing the graceful line of his neck. “If you’re certain, darling, be my guest.”

His grip on your hand loosens, though he keeps you well within his grasp. Your hand goes back to his stomach and your fingers drift lower and lower, teasing at the edge of the water before plunging in. Jaskier’s eyes flutter closed and his breath catches when you find his arousal between his legs, hard and straining just past where the eye could see. 

You carefully wrap your hand around the base, feeling the coarse hairs tickle your fingers. His cock throbs at your touch and you move your hand slowly, tugging gently up and back down. “Gods, woman,” Jaskier rasps, his fingers flexing where they now grip the rim of the tub, “h-how are your hands s-so soft?”

“Softer somewhere else,” you whisper, smirking with a wink when his eyes shoot open and grip yours with fervor. Your hand moves faster, just a bit, but enough to have his hips rocking up to meet you. 

“Fuck,” Jaskier’s chest rises high and falls far with every gulping breath that is pulled from him. You lean in and press your lips to his skin, hot and wet and by the Gods so are you. Warmth pools low in your belly as you watch Jaskier fall apart under your hand, and for a fleeting moment, you think about what it may be like to have this in your bed.

“C’mon, Jaskier,” you murmur against his skin, twisting your wrist and squeezing lightly around him, “let me take care of you.”

Jaskier nods and swallows thickly, his hips thrusting harder and harder, chasing a quickly approaching high. Water sloshes out onto the floor and he gasps for air as he grows closer and closer under your watchful eye. “P-please, holy hells, I ju-”

“Go on, Jaskier,” you murmur into the hollow of his throat, “give me your pleasure.”

And then, seemingly quite surprisingly to him, he does.

A ragged gasp tears from his throat as he throws his head back, stuttering up into your hand. Warmth coats your fingers and you slow, still intent on wringing every last drop from him. Jaskier in the throes of climax is a glorious sight, his cheeks pink and muscles tensed, teeth bared with every breath he pulls. His stomach tenses and you move your hand away, not wanting to push too far. You press your lips to his neck one last time before standing, crossing over to the drying cloth that hangs on the back of your door. 

“J-just give me a moment, darling,” Jaskier breathes, slowly blinking his eyes open. “I’ll gladly return the favor.” 

You bring your washing jug over to the bath and set it on the stool along with the cloth. “Don’t worry about me, Jaskier,” you murmur as you help him to stand in the bath, “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

You find the washing cloth and dip it into the jug, wiping Jaskier down from the now-soiled bathwater. Now that he’s standing and you feel a bit more comfortable, you are able to truly appreciate just how pretty his cock is. Long and just thick enough, with dark hair around the base between his legs. And, Gods be good, half-hard against his thigh. You look up at him through your lashes and find him reaching for you, fitting his finger under your chin and bringing you to close the gap. 

“And now,” he whispers darkly, danger dripping with honey, “I’d like to make you feel good.”

[septic-skele]

UT - You and Me (Against The World)

Summary: If Pap was the sun, then he must be the moon: a ball of scars and craters, whose only shine was a lesser reflection of his brother’s.

“But if you weren’t there to be the moon,” Papyrus answered, so simply, so kindly, “who else would be a light in the darkness?” Sans and Papyrus, in fifty captured seconds.

Comfort

“This is not at all an admission of helplessness, surrender or defeat…but if there is anything I haven’t yet tried, brother, anything at all that might help you, I need you to tell me.”

Kiss

The human’s lipstick had formed a decidedly unpleasant texture on his teeth, Papyrus mused with a shudder as he grabbed his toothbrush to scrub away the evidence.

Soft

Sans rarely ever raised his voice, but then he didn’t need to; a low growl could be far more threatening than a shout.

Pain

“Nngh…Almost there, I think,” Sans hissed, struggling to stay loose and relaxed as Papyrus gingerly manipulated the deformed joint of his shoulder back toward its socket.

Potatoes

“Not once have I seen a potato subspecies that grows on couches,” Papyrus admitted, “so I’m afraid I cannot speak for any resemblance between them and Sans!”

Rain

“I seem to recall a well-prepared skeleton advising his lazy brother to wear sneakers on their outing today,” Papyrus snarked as Sans’ sodden slippers squished and squelched with each step.

Chocolate

Chocolate sauce was chocolate sauce and spaghetti was spaghetti, both good things independently, so…Sans could assume Papyrus had made them better together, right?

Happiness

Papyrus had genuinely laughed at what was admittedly his worst material, and that was more than enough to lift the corners of Sans’ wan smile.

Telephone

Sans had thirty-four frantic texts, a full voicemail box, and no memory of the last three days to offer as an excuse.

Ears

Papyrus couldn’t help but marvel at Frisk’s dedication to being so cool; they had put new holes in their ears not for better hearing, but simply to decorate with tiny pieces of treasure!

Name

“I’m just Sans—well, ‘Comic Sans’ if you want to be particular about it—but if you really need a surname,” Sans began, mischief sparking in his eyes, “it’s, uh, Lewis. C.S. Lewis, heheh.”

Sensual

Finally Papyrus could understand why Sans so loved spending time in bed; these new silk sheets seemed to float around his bones, gently shushing him to relax and rest.

Sex

“Turns out the humans have a label for everything,” Sans remarked with a wry grin as he spun the striped button pinned to his coat. “I’m what they call an ace in the hole.”

Touch

For reasons he couldn’t quite justify, Papyrus flinched when Frisk wrapped their arms around his neck.

Death

“I’ll see you soon, Tori,” he mumbled as he brushed his hand over the memorial’s stone base, “because if I know anything about that kid, they’re not gonna let you stay down forever.”

Weakness

All of Sans’ strength had been spent in the shower; his juddering legs and the cold embrace of the bathroom floor dictated that dressing would have to wait.

Tears

“I’m always alright,” Papyrus whispered, though he made no effort to dry his streaked cheekbones.

Speed

Papyrus doggedly insisted that the sign had said ninety miles per hour—until he recalled a particular prescription for glasses that still needed filling.

Hero

“It’s not my job to be nice or helpful or cool,” Sans announced flatly. “It’s my job to give judgment, no matter how much it might hurt.”

Freedom

“Not all humans are like Frisk, Papyrus; some of them would rather sweep us off the street than crack a smile at us.”

Life

In response to Sans’ apathetic “What do you want?”—Papyrus poured his soul into a scream: “I want you to treat your life like it matters!”

Jealousy

“Undyne is always away with Alphys and the human Frisk is busy with their plethora of school friends; I don’t know who my ‘besties’ are anymore!”

Hands

“My glove is the wrapping and my hand is the present; I’m just waiting for the day someone special wants to take it!”

Taste

Spongy in the middle, crisp around the edges, swathed with butter and spices that melted in the mouth…If only Papyrus could drag the garlic bread out of the cookbook picture and onto the plate.

Devotion

“Long live the King,” Sans murmured as he pried the crown from his exhausted brother’s head and tucked his cloak closer around him for the night.

Sickness

It was unsettling to see Pap so limp and lethargic, snoring on and off between miserable sniffs and the few coughs his abused throat could muster.

Melody

For once Papyrus regretted that he wasn’t a stealthier skeleton; he would have liked to hear Sans sing another bar or two before he jumped at his presence.

Star

Mettaton had been acknowledging everyone in the first several rows, but surely the celebrity had glanced at Papyrus a few seconds longer than the rest!

Home

Their Surface house felt like a resort—airy, open, relaxing to some degree, but Sans still had the nagging urge to keep his bags and boxes packed.

Market

“Sans, I have no intention of purchasing seventeen boxes of Twinkies!”

Hair

“Oh, so I’m not allowed any Twinkies to repackage as ‘dessert dogs’ for my booming business, but you’re allowed four different brands of shampoo for hair you don’t even have.”

Confusion

“These puzzles I’ve submitted are sure to be a much greater challenge for this week’s column, don’t you think?” he questioned smugly as his brother stared at the sheet of incomprehensible twists, turns, and teasers.

Innocence

“Doesn’t ‘hanky panky’ mean that you are ‘hankering for a pancake’?” Papyrus demanded as Sans choked on his coffee.

Fear

“I think, uh, I’d rather take the stairs, be proactive like you’re always telling me,” Sans decided, recoiling from the cramped, groaning walls of the elevator.

Sky

The pure blue expanse made Sans’ head swim with its enormity, stretching further than his eye sockets could ever see.

Lightning/Thunder

Papyrus couldn’t help but wonder if that terrifying noise was the sun, roiling and roaring at the dark clouds for blotting out its rightful place.

Forever

“Why do you always leave me behind?” Sans wanted to say, instead forcing a smile and wave as Papyrus strode toward his terminal.

Technology

Papyrus’ first college semester, Sans kept his phone charged and at full volume more consistently than he had in the last five years.

Blood

“Stay awake for me, Sans, just keep your eyes on me!” Papyrus begged, because if he didn’t keep their eyelights locked he would have to watch the pool of red grow.

Hell

Sans’ HP hung by a decimal point, slipping, and Undyne wrestled her arms around Papyrus’ shoulders to keep him back as he screamed.

Safe

“It’s thanks to you that I’m still here, bro; I won’t go anywhere if you don’t.”

Bonds

“We skeletons have a soul sense for such things; I can feel my brother’s aura of bad jokes, dirty socks and disappointment in this room.”

Gift

“It was on sale!” Papyrus lied, brightly and effortlessly, because he hated to see Sans look so guilty for receiving a good thing.

Smile

Sans chuckled fondly as he admired the worn, creased photos, tracing a finger over his baby brother’s beaming face.

Child

Papyrus wouldn’t mind having a little one to raise someday—someone to look up to him for his greatness and guidance, the way he had once looked up to Sans.

Waves

Seafoam swirled gently around his ankles, beckoning him closer, deeper, against his better judgment; if there was a choice to sink or swim, Sans would sink every time.

Moon

If Pap was the sun, then he must be the moon: a ball of scars and craters, whose only shine was a lesser reflection of his brother’s.

Hope

“But if you weren’t there to be the moon,” Papyrus answered, so simply, so kindly, “who else would be a light in the darkness?”

Heaven

Most gods Sans heard about were not gods of mercy, but he would keep looking; he would find the one who gave eternal peace as a gift, not as something to bargain for.

Completion

As his wavering steps gave out and the twirling lights softly faded, Sans closed his eyes and breathed, soundless, “Finally.”

[project-ohagi]

Rumi Usagiyama ღ Miruko x Reader

Buy me a coffee!! <3

At first, the news had sent a surge of felicity pirouetting around your heart. Since the dawn of adulthood, you been quite desperate for a child, but whenever the subject was broached, your boyfriend would reel off some fantastical excuse as to why you shouldn’t try just yet. It was too early, he wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment - maybe later, okay sweetie? You should have realised his play, but you were naïve, drowning in love and trust. So you relented, shelving your dream for him, for the man who decided that abandoning you at your most vulnerable was fair.

It was to him.

To him, your relationship had been merely a farce. By manipulating such an innocent young thing as yourself, he dispelled the suspicions and rumours surrounding him. To an outsider, the hugs and kisses were genuine tokens of his affection. Even you had believed this, as foolish as it sounded in hindsight. Your support network wasn’t potent enough to destroy all the pain he inflicted. He left one night, and you had waited. You waited for days, feeling deep within your core that he would soon return. He just needed a little break, is all! It was big news. He just needed time alone to process it. Except…he hadn’t been so alone, and he never crept back into your embrace.

You would have forgiven him. You would have forgiven everything.

Finally, comprehension stabbed at you, and the turmoil began filtering out your excitement.

You were resolved to keep the child, provide the entire world and then some, all on your lonesome. It would certainly be difficult, but nothing was impossible. Not for a single mother. As far as you were concerned, that wretched man was a criminal, who captured your heart and sentenced it to the most excruciating form of torture. You wouldn’t let him steal anything else - especially the one thing bound to bring you joy.

What use were men, anyway?

Well, worrying for the erstwhile months was useless. Your boots graced the concrete and you clutched your eight-and-a-half month baby bump. You smiled brightly, through the aching pain of your back. Perhaps it would prove wise to spend less time tossing and turning amid your bed-sheets, and actually sleep in a comfortable position? You had never experienced backache like this before. Hopefully this would be the one and only instance. You looked to your phone, checking both the time and weather, and trying not to pay too much attention to your background. It was a close-up shot of the Rabbit Hero: Miruko, leaked to the media and quickly snagged by you. It was such an incredible picture, capturing the definition of her muscles and that pride-stitched smirk. She was something of a celebrity crush, you supposed - not that that would ever be revealed.

All of a sudden, your stomach twisted - a result of the harsh kicking from within, maybe? Or were these more of the dreaded contractions? If that was the case, then abdicating your afternoon walk was probably a good decision. You hastened toward home, hand still firmly attached to your bump.

"Hey, watch where you're going, you ignorant slut!" The voice was startling, not least of all because you didn’t realise someone had been barrelling down the street, in your direction.

You wanted to apologise, despite clearly being void of fault, but your stomach throbbed with agony. The challenge of simply placing one foot in front of the other was becoming greater, and you were tired. You barely had enough energy to stand, let alone argue with this man. A civilian standing nearby watched the exchange, and grabbed the man's arm.

"Why don't you watch where you're going? You just ran into a pregnant woman! What the Hell is wrong with you?" It was nauseating to see a stranger fight your battle, but you appreciated the help.

The man's agitation seemed to be growing. "Huh? How is that my problem?!"

"How is it not your problem?"

He liberated himself from the civilian's hold, just as a distant voice shouted, "Don't let him get away! He's a thief! Thief!"

Your saviour attempted to grab him again. "Is there a hero in the area? Or failing that, a police officer?"

"Eh…I think she might need a doctor, too."

A sliver of water - what surely must have been water, anyway - trickled down your leg. It was soon shadowed by drop after drop, but with your attention diverted, you didn’t really notice until a hero arrived on the scene. Your lips parted in disbelief. It was your idol, Miruko, in the flesh!...But you couldn’t allow her to witness you in such a sorry state. So you turned away, hoping that your company would get the message. They didn’t. Your abdomen felt almost like a rock, the contractions became more frequent and moulded agony on to your face. Someone yelled, wondering why you weren't being escorted to a hospital. The thief was apprehended. You groaned, water pooling underfoot.

A dam had burst inside your core, and the torrent showed no sign of slowing.

The civilian from earlier spoke to Miruko, pointing at you, in spite of your embarrassment. The next thing you recalled was being lifted into a pair of muscular arms, and risking a glance up at that radiant smirk. The pain forced you to hunch, and as Miruko whisked you away to god knows where (hopefully a hospital), your flushed cheek found purchase on her chest. The water continued to flow. Why was she still holding you? She must be soaked by now! Oh gods, this was so, super embarrassing! Humiliating, even! She was an extraordinary hero, someone for whom you held deep respect and adoration…and now she was carrying you like a princess, while your water was breaking. The journey lasted an eternity. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. She was very fast, so you actually reached a hospital in a matter of minutes.

"How far along are you?" Truth be told, you had expected her to leave the minute you arrived.

But you were still curled up in her arms. "Eight-and-a-half months."

"Damn! Why were you out on the street? And you got attacked by that guy, right? Well, I beat his ass for ya!" She led you inside the building.

"Thank you so much." A smile lingered on your lips, but your breathing was laboured. "You have no idea how grateful I am."

She laughed as a midwife practically tethered you to one of the beds. You had acquired your hospital gown, which would no doubt make the delivery easier. You didn’t really understand, but apparently the baby was coming? The nine month mark hadn't even hit yet! Worry seeped into your heart. Did something go wrong? Was this ordeal about to end in tragedy? Miruko's keen eyes latched on to your shaking form, her ears picking up on the tiny whimpers passing through your lips. She was childless herself, but could fathom the pain of labour, and the anxiety that accompanied it. But heroes didn’t allow people to suffer alone, right? Especially not the most defenceless. The midwives practiced breathing with you, slow and steady. Miruko followed suit, grasping your hand in hers and taking in big gulps of air. You seemed to relax upon seeing this.

You panicked less.

You stared at each other for a spun-out minute, just grinning and relishing in the warmth and the comfort. Until you started pushing, and you had to squeeze her hand very tightly. Thankfully, this woman was incredibly strong, and you were not, so it was more adorable than harmful.

"Come on, you can do this!" She stated, leaning toward you ever-so-slightly. "I'm gonna be here, and my hand ain't gonna snap off, so you can hold it as tight as you need!"

You nodded, over and over, trying desperately not to scream. There was a trace of blood, that Miruko was ready to call out, when the midwife told her it was completely normal.

"You hear that? Everything's fine! Just keep going!" She squeezed your hand back, the sight of you writhing in pain tugging at her heartstrings.

She stayed, out of more than simple necessity.

She stayed! That was more than could be said for…

Oh, forget about him already!

When the baby finally tumbled out, you sighed in relief, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Miruko's grin widened with both pride and elation, as if she was your birth partner. Maybe she was. She vanquished those small, glassy droplets.

"We did it!"

Did she…did she mean those words? They sounded genuine, they sounded…loving. Was it possible? Your new-born nestled into her strong arms. Miruko had the air of a triumphant parent. Maybe she could be. Maybe this wouldn’t be your last encounter. Maybe she would stay, be a permanent fixture in your lives. Wouldn’t that be something wonderful?

Fatigue brought your voice to a whisper.

A happy, little whisper.

"…We did it…"

Hurray…!

[Word Count: 1502]

[justkurotingz]

lucky to have him (spencer reid x reader)

this was my first request from one of my favorite people 🥺🥺 i absolutely love this request and hope i did it justice for your sake @ciarawriitesmarvel​ <333 it gets fluffy in the end, i promise 😭😭😭 

“I was wondering if you would write a little something where Spencer and the reader have both been captured by an unsub and both won't let the unsub hurt the other, so just protectiveness all round!”

so i got the unsub idea from AO3 LMAO although i forgot which fic it was so if anyone knows PLEASE tell me so i can credit them <333 the reader is a person of color :))

warning: little graphic descriptions of torture and some swearing

word count: 1.8K

you woke up with a dizzying groan, taking in the room you were in. it was dark with no windows and had a faint smell of mildew. almost like a basement. sitting up slowly, you blinked, glancing at the iron bars the separated your room from the other one, that was practically identical to yours.

the events of yesterday came rushing back to you in a flood. the unsub, bryan white, serpent hills, spence.. you gasped as you stood up, making your way over to the bars. “spence?” you called at the unmoving body lying on the ground. “spence.” you groaned, letting out a breath as his body twitched. “y/n...” he whispered, rolling over to face you.

“where are we?” “i think it’s bryan’s basement.” you whispered back, and he crawled over to you, checking your face for any injuries. “are you ok?” his eyes were cloudy with concern and you gently squeezed his hand through the bars. “i’m ok, are you?” he nodded and the two of you got to your feet, stretching out and observing every corner of the room.

“y/n and spencer! my two favorite people. i must admit, you two did a wonderful job going undercover. as you already know, interracial couples disgust me, i’m so glad you two are undercover feds. i won’t have to kill you after all, just inconvenience your day. which is fortunate because i really like you y/n. sadly you’re just a bit too dirty for a pure white male like me.” he chuckled.

the rage that filled your body subsided the second spence squeezed your hand. “it’s not worth getting mad. we can’t let him know we’re together, he’d kill us y/n. hotch must realize something’s wrong. they’ll come for us. we just have to hold on.” you nodded, holding onto him with all the strength you had left.

“bryan.” “hey y/n.” he smirked, walking towards your cell, unlocking the door and stepping in. in his hand was a old chess timer, blood stained around the buttons and your stomach dropped. the knife in his hand glinted underneath the bulb light he turned on.

“i’m sorry.” he said genuinely, then crouched next to you. “we’re going to play a little game. it’s simple, there’s only two rules. number one, the game has 5 rounds. the time you have to endure my torture each round goes up as you pass each round. i’ll be going back and forth between the two of you so you have time to heal.” he smirked, glancing at spence. “two, if you last longer than you have to in a round, the extra time will be shaved off the next one. we’ll start easy, the first round is 30 seconds.” he set up the clock and positioned it so you could press the button to stop your clock with ease.

“what are you going to do to her?” spence’s voice was calm, but you could hear the panicked undertones. “nothing much. yet.” your scream filled spence’s ears as he dug the knife into your arms. 

“stop! stop it! let me take it! DON’T HURT HER!” spence screamed, thrashing along the bars as you sobbed, blood pooling underneath your arm. the pain was torturous, but the sting of the knife returning to old wounds hurt more.

10....5......0... his clock stopped and he smiled in pleasure. “y/n come on. stay strong. you can do this, i’m so so proud of you.” spence encouraged you, and you knew he was crying. “you son of a bitch.” spence spat, eyes dark in anger.

“stop. please stop.” you pressed the button, panting hard. “it hurts.” you cried and spence reached out to squeeze your hand. “come on y/n. we’ll get through this, i’m so so proud of you.” “me too, you lasted a whole minute and ten. that’s a new high record.” bryan smirked at you and you moaned weakly, clutching your injured hand.

“onto pretty boy here...” “don’t hurt him. please don’t hurt him.” you begged, holding onto to bryan with the strength you had left. “do you have another idea?” he smirked down at you and you nodded. “please, use my extra time to skip round one for spence. just skip to round two.” you begged and he raised an eyebrow.

“that isn’t part of the rules sweetheart.” he teased and spence banged on the bars. “DO NOT LISTEN TO HER! I’LL DO MY ROUND, PLEASE DON’T HURT HER!” bryan looked at spence and back at you. “this is a very interesting position to be in right now. unfortunately, neither of you are in a position to beg, so i’d suggest you shut up. y/n, i’ll take you up on your suggestion... however round two for you is going to be a minute and a half instead of a minute. well, a minute and 20 seconds, using the remaining ten seconds of your time.”

“BRYAN PLEASE LET HER HAVE HER TIME! ILL GO THROUGH ROUND ONE!” “no can do spencie-boy.” bryan teased and spence sunk to the ground, reaching out to hold your hand. “oh y/n. please don’t try and save me. please don’t put yourself through this.” he begged and you gently traced a heart on his hand so bryan wouldn’t notice.

“spence i’d gladly take this for you. you’re my best friend.” bryan paused, looking between you and spence before deciding there was nothing more between you two. “onto round 2 y/n. i must say, you’re one of the most selfless people i know.” “y/n, you don’t have to do this.” spence begged and you shushed him. “i’m ready.”

you screamed as he started on your legs, humming as he carved. you thrashed, sobbing in and out of consciousness as your arm started to bleed as well. spence turned away, surely crying because he couldn’t watch. “spence. spence.” you begged, screaming as another round of pain ensured. you watched the clock tick by, seconds seeming like centuries.

but this time, you couldn’t endure any more, and as soon as time ran out on his clock, you pressed yours. “disappointing, but not surprised.” bryan withdrew the knife, cleaning it off on your body. “can’t save him anymore.” he leered at you, crossing over to spence’s cell as you lay there, breathing faintly.

you didn’t even realize when spence’s shouts of pain started but you weakly reached out to hold his hand. “fight it. don’t give in to the pain spence, don’t let him win.” you whispered, praying to god your team was going to rush in and save the day.

you couldn’t see spence’s clock, so bryan read aloud for you. “he’s hanging in there.” he said, slightly impressed. when spence finally gave in to the pain, he was at 1:45. “45 seconds overtime, that’ll come in handy for round three. both of you are so good at handling pain.” he hummed, cleaning off the knife and crossing back into your cell.

“please. please.” spence begged, his eyes closed and his hair matted with sweat and blood. “don’t hurt her. she can’t take anymore. I SAID DON’T HURT HER!” spence yelled, making bryan stop. “don’t tell me what to do.” his voice was low, deadly and you turned to spence, tears streaming past your ear. “i can take it. i can take it. i can- AH!” you screamed and spence shut his eyes tightly. “stop. please stop.” he repeated, and bryan paused. “actually...” he trailed off, scooping you up effortlessly and crossing over to spence’s cell, blood trailing behind himon the cement floor. “i want you to look in her eyes as she screams.” spence’s blood chilled, but he forced himself to look at you, squeezing your hand and brushing away your tears as you sobbed. “you’re so brave. you’re so brave y/n, you’re so brave.... stop, bryan STOP!” 

“she’s unconscious!” bryan’s upper lip curled in disgust and he threw the knife down in rage. “that little-” “do me. do me instead, please just don’t hurt her anymore. give her time to heal, if she dies right now it’ll just be me. what’s the fun in that? i’m willing to take her place. just please don’t hurt her.” spence’s voice cracked as he took in your pale, unmoving body, the blood and the sweat, your closed eyes, your labored breaths.

bryan’s eyes flashed. “you two really aren’t best friends are you? i should’ve known.” he spat at your feet and spence found the strength to get up. “you racist son of a bitch. she’s my entire world.” before bryan could answer, the door flew open with a bang. “FBI! bryan white, you’re under arrest....” hotch trailed off, taking in the scene. jj stifled a gasp as she rushed to your side, and morgan grabbed bryan, slamming him into the wall. “you bastard.” he hauled him off upstairs. emily and rossi ran to spence, supporting him up the stairs, and hotch lifted you up, following them as jj brought up the rear.

hours later, you woke up safe and comfortable in a hospital bed. “spence?” you murmured and the people around you smiled. “he’s in the other room. hotch, dave, and jj are with him.” emily squeezed your hand and you glanced at morgan comforting a sobbing garcia. “penelope. i’m ok.” you opened your arms, painfully aware of the stinging. “i was so worried.” she cried into your gown and you smiled, stroking her hair.

“what happened?” “you were in bad shape kid.” you focused on morgan and smiled weakly. “the doctors got you all patched up. pretty boy too.” “i just want to see spence.” emily laughed, patting your hand and getting up to call for your boyfriend. a few minutes later, he walked in, rushing to hug you. “you’re ok.” he whispered, kissing your temple. “you’re ok.” you brushed his hair back, wrapping your arms around your neck as he kissed you. “we’re ok angel. we’re going to get through this.” you nodded wordlessly, your forehead leaning against his. 

“i’m sorry.” he pulled back, eyebrows furrowed. “y/n you have nothing to apologize for.” “if i was not... you know....” you trailed off and spence’s face softened as he kissed his way up your arms. “please don’t ever apologize for having beautiful roots and such glowing skin. i love that you’re of color and that you teach me about cultures different from my own y/n. bryan is a racist bastard, we’re going to put this chapter behind in our lives and move on, ok? i’m right here, i’m not going anywhere.”

you fell asleep like that, a mess of tangled and throbbing limbs, his hands in your hair, stolen kisses and shared laughs keeping you up late. as you fell asleep, the thought that you were lucky to have spence struck you. and as you woke up in his arms, studying his sleeping face, you couldn’t agree more.

[resident-of-edgy-evil]

Well, this was unexpected - Chapter 1

(Story strays from the primary story line of Resident Evil 2 as a given “what if” scenario but follows the same general base plot of the outbreak in the game.) - “what if you and Leon booked it as fast as you could from the front gate of the police station to the closest looking safe haven- a primary school?”

This is only the first chapter. I wish it had been longer, but I’m on a bit of a time crunch at the moment. I hope you like it and give some feedback. (I’ll probably be making a lot of changes) Thanks!

———————————————

You two weren’t entirely sure where you were going or what it was that you were doing. The outbreak spread to every nook and cranny of the city, showing no mercy to any man, woman, or child. The virus didn’t care whose life it took and the terror was all the same for each citizen to bear. There was nowhere in sight to turn. Every corner that you and Leon took was overrun by bloodied corpses lying in wait for their next meal. However, you weren’t willing to become the main course, and you certainly weren’t going to allow your best friend to attend their dinner party either.

“We’re running low on ammo,” he chimed in, breaking you out of your hyper focused state. “We have to find somewhere to stop and recuperate before we get ourselves killed.”

Your panic-hidden countenance never faded as you saw him barely huff, pushing himself to run faster than before. He kept his composure the best he could in a way that would fool anyone else into believing he was unaffected by the cities’ destruction. It was fairly unsurprising that his body could handle this after his training.

But you were no fool, you’ve known Leon since you two were kids, and it would make you a pathetic friend if you hadn’t noticed the slight glint of fear in his eyes that the academy could never prepare him for. You were worried about him even though he was more than capable of taking care of himself. If only there was the guarantee of making it.

“(Y/n), there’s an unoccupied gate over there. If we can make it to the other side then we might be able to catch our breath and search for more weapons.”

You’d be lying if you said that climbing over a gate in a zombie infested area was appealing, but you didn’t have any better ideas. Against your better judgment, you nod to Leon in silent confirmation. You weren’t really in the mood to speak even though communication was important during a time like this. This was a matter of teamwork, not solely protecting him, although it would’ve been preferable. He seemed to understand what you couldn’t. If you work together, you’ll survive together. If you work alone, neither of you are walking out of the city alive. It’s just a personal difficulty to listen to that voice of common sense.

You struggled to lead the way, dodging any lingering hands while paying the most mind to the rookie officer on your tail. It was important that you get him out of the city. Keeping track of Leon was your main priority, your sanity being the second. Very little else made any difference to you. Again, trying to work alone.

Leon sped up, reaching the gate before you. He searched your eyes for any sort of sign of pain or worry. He was dealing with this situation fairly well with only a few occurrences of true fear whenever you’d get snagged by the monsters outside the police station, but he couldn’t detect so much as a single trace of fear.

“When did you become so stoic?” He begins to choke on his own coughs through his breathlessness, unbelieving of your behavior.

You hadn’t really noticed a change in your own persona, but he certainly had. The bond you shared was intimate and your mood shifts often matched his own. He was worried that you were at risk of snapping at any given moment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You offered the most genuine half smile you could muster, but you knew that he wouldn’t believe it either.

His own smile didn’t reach his eyes as he decided not to press you any further. You’ve never been in a situation like this before and it was unfair of him to assume how you’d react. You were much stronger than you appeared, more so than he could have ever anticipated.

Shaking his head a bit, he shrugged. It was best to question it once you weren’t completely surrounded.

“Here, I’ll give you a leg up over the gate.” He knelt down and placed his two cupped hands over his knee for you to use as leverage.

Your face twisted as you shot a sour look at Leon. This, you thought, was an awful idea.

The gate wasn’t any higher than 10 feet or so, including the sharp decorative spears protruding from the top, making you hesitant as being impaled would’ve been the last thing that you had imagined being the cause of your death tonight. Imagine making it this far only to have your grave say “almost survived the zombie apocalypse only to fall onto a gate.” The eulogy would be great, but the turnout wouldn’t be so grand.

Shaking your head from the thought, you redirected your thoughts to the task at hand. In between the metal spears was a thin bar that looked sturdy enough to climb. It was only a matter of keeping steady as to not get snagged or trip. Again, potentially embarrass and fatal.

“Leon, I don’t know about this, there has to be another-“ he cut you off by pulling you closer to his crouched form.

“Less talk, we’re wasting time. I can hold my own. Go find some bolt cutters or something, I don’t know. There’s nothing on the other side of the gate as far as I know, you’ll be safe.”

You were apprehensive to leave him on his own, but he was right. He knew how to fight his way out of here if he really wanted to. He could make it out of Raccoon, alone, without help, leaving you behind. The more time you took weighing your options was less time he had to fend off the new wave of zombies that were attracted by the commotion.

“Alright,” He hoisted you over his shoulder, his upper body strength catching you off guard. You didn’t recall him being this strong while growing up. Oh, how the times change...in more ways than you’d wished to count.

With the help of Leon, you make it onto the second tallest bar, praying that your balance didn’t give out. Scaling the gate, you make it to the top bar before bracing yourself for impact, in your best efforts to stray from jarring your joints. Safely making it over, you toss him your “borrowed” beretta through the empty spaces of the gate.

“At least take this, you’ll need it more than I will. I still have my pistol and knife so I’ll still have protection over here if something happens.”

He tilts his head, smiling softly at the gesture. You had been taking extra precautions during this whole ordeal to keep him safe. It wasn’t entirely unlike you to go out on your own and stray from the path, but now you were carrying their combined weight and weren’t focused enough to do something like this. Leon could only pray for you at this point.

“I’ll promise to stay safe if you do, too.”

Neither of you said anything as your eyes met each other’s. Tensions rose before you dipped your head in compliance and sprinted across the yard, rendering your sight of Leon, useless.

You knew that you had to find something quickly. You scanned the small expanse of lawn that had been meticulously cut, finding the whole side mission to be tiresome. It was proving to be a difficult task, y'know, looking for something- anything that could aid you by breaking the chains. It was even harder to will yourself not to back peddle and gaze at the sight of your struggling best friend.

"Christ, you're wasting time." you mumbled to yourself. “If he was here, he’s chide me for my time lack management skills.”

Your heart sped up the moment you began to hear gunsots, leading you to believe that things were getting bad out there if Leon was growing desperate enough to begin using bullets. To the left of what you could only guess was a school, stood a wooden shed out of the corner of your eye, making you hope beyond all hope that there would be something in there that could him through that stupid gate. What you had originally failed to notice while pulling the rusted door handles of the small structure that there was another padlock adorning a green clover shaped insignia around the keyhole. It was the same symbol you had stumbled upon in the police station.

Just your luck.

You pulled harder praying that the hinges of the wooden door would give in if you used all of your might. If only you still had that key...

"God, dammit, I don't having the fucking time for this." You ground your teeth and groaned.

Time was passing quickly and if you didn’t hurry, the monsters on the other side of the gate would kill Leon.

‘I hate this entire damn city.’

A loud crash came from a window on your right. Someone or, more likely, something was inside and you weren't quite ready to find out what it was. Upon closer inspection, the room was seemingly clear of any signs of life... or death, much to your surprise. It looked mainly untouched, though this only confirmed your previous suspicions. Smaller than average chairs lined the walls under a white board that had been nearly scrawled upon. Aside from the general disorganization of toys, which wasn't unusual for a children's class, the room really was untouched by the disaster outside. A brief moment of relief washed over you at the sight of a normal looking public space free of fallen bodies and pools of blood. Momentarily, it tricked you into believing that there wasn't death beyond that front gate.

You weren't going to let Leon or yourself die in this hellish town. That was one thing you were sure of. It felt like you were in a video game. It was almost like you walked in front of a barrel that, logically, you should be able to climb over, but you had no such luck. You were frustrated with the situation, kicking the short grass as a result. If only Leon could climb over that gate.

The feeling only grew the moment you looked through the next window. The sight made your blood run cold. Streaks of blood painted the tiles that had once been white. This had been the longest day of your life, the most physically drained you had ever been and to top it off, your heart clenched at the sight of a class disarray in a public children’s school. The unimaginable had struck this town and you were determined to not let the efforts of those who had helped you this far, go to waste.

“Leon, I’m coming for you.” You whispered as you rested your head on the glass, a single tear escaping your eye. “Just hang in there.”

[lustinglilac]

Delivered

A/N: I started watching Mayans M.C. and I’m obsessed to say the least; I wrote this one day when it came to me. There’s no actual pairing it’s just platonic!reader and the men. It probably sucks and is not accurate at all but enjoy! 

Warnings: strong language, blood, literally someone birthing a child.

She’d been at home helping out her grandmother with dinner when she got the frantic call.

“Angel, I’m a geriatric nurse! I don’t deliver babies!” She couldn’t help but panic as she’d just been told one of Vicky’s girls had gone into labor nearly seven hours ago and was ready to push.

“Yo! Be fucking quiet, I’m on the phone!” Angel shouted just as the voices quieted down. “Listen, I don’t know what that word means but you need to come the fuck down here right now.”

She contemplated her decision for a moment, she thought about how guilty she would feel if she didn’t at least try to help out. She did have the most knowledge about the human body out of all of them.

“I’ll be there in 5!” She hung up, calling out an excuse to her grandmother and running out the door to her car.

Thankfully, she had a bag of medical supplies in her trunk because god only knew Vicky and the Mayans wouldn’t have any. How the hell was she supposed to deliver a baby?

She parked quickly, dirt flying everywhere as she made it to the house in literally five minutes just like she’d promised. She grabbed her medical bag, pulling out her phone to google ‘How to deliver a baby for beginners’ and sure enough, millions of results populated her screen.

“Hell yeah! She’s here!” Angel opened the door as soon as he saw her pull in.

“Angel, this is so fucking stupid! I don’t know how to deliver a baby!” She nearly exploded in his face, keeping her composure considering the mom to be was screaming her head off in the middle on the floor.

One of the girls got up from her spot to let her through, eyeing her wearily as the guys watched from a distance, not daring to get close enough.

“She wants to know what kind of a nurse you are.” The barely dressed woman took her attention away for a moment.

“The kind that’s going to help her get that baby out of her.” Not missing a beat, she pulled out her phone discreetly and read the how-to, placing a blood pressure cuff on the woman’s arm and inflating it, her numbers were fairly high considering the situation.

To say she was nervous was an understatement, her hands trembled as she reached for her gloves, slipping them on and trying to not touch anything but the woman in labor.

“Oh, she is dilated.” She spoke to herself as she turned around to face the men, “Okay, I need towels. Can someone hold a flashlight, I can’t see shit.”

The men scrambled to find her supplies as Angel held a flashlight above her head, “Shit, I think I’m gonna throw up.” He gagged, turning his head away as he got a very good look at the birth canal. She, unlike Angel, tried her best not to gag in front of the woman out of respect.

“Here, lemme help.” EZ came to her side, helping the woman place the towels underneath herself because they knew there would be a lot of body fluids in a few minutes.

“EZ, you ever deliver a baby before?” Angel asked him with his head still turned away from the situation.

“No but, how hard can it be?” He looked around the room confidently. If anyone was going to know anything about delivering babies, it was probably going to be Ezekiel.

“Okay, I can see the head! She needs to start pushing.” She nodded to EZ who translated what she was saying to the woman in pain.

“Hold her head up, do not let her lay flat. You, hold her legs and don’t put them down until I tell you to.” She ordered the girls around her.

“EZ, gloves.” She motioned to her bag that had multiple pairs of medical gloves in it, before turning her attention completely to the woman in front of her.

“Hurry the fuck up! My hand is cramping!” Angel yelled from his position above her head. She elbowed his knee, shutting him up real quick.

“Okay, you’re doing good. Todo bien. Keep pushing, mama.” She could see the baby’s head coming to the surface as the blood pooled around her and onto the towels.

“It hurts, she’s in too much pain. She can’t—“ The same girl from earlier who had grilled her was translating what the mom was saying.

EZ took it upon himself to comfort the mother by holding her hand, which she gladly accepted and squeezed tightly making EZ wince.

“Push, push, push! Almost there!” She grabbed hold of the baby’s head gently placing both of her hands by its ears.

“I’m gonna pass out! Fuck!” Angel shouted, almost abandoning the flashlight altogether.

The men behind her watched in horror, none of them daring to complain. She kept a watchful eye on the mother’s breathing, until she was met with resistance from below.

“EZ. EZ, the baby’s stuck.” Her eyes widened as she looked from the baby halfway out of the canal to EZ who was doing his best trying to ease the mother.

“It’s what?!” Angel commented, eyes widening just as much as hers.

“Well fucking do something!” Coco yelled somewhere behind her, pacing back and forth with his hands tight over his ears.

“Google didn’t tell me what to do when the baby gets stuck, Coco!” She huffed, wiping the sweat off of her brow with her forearm.

“Google?!” Angel and EZ shouted at the same time making her flinch.

“She’s asking if she’s going to die! Help her!” The girl screamed at her as she tried to concentrate, she tried to recall what she was taught in her maternity nursing class that one semester she had to take it.

She racked her brain for an idea, for anything at this point. The last thing she was going to do was let the baby or it’s mother die. She remembered the maneuver she learned in obstetrics in case a baby was stuck, otherwise known as shoulder dystocia. She just had to push on the pelvis a little and prayed to God that would do the trick.

“Guys! Let her concentrate.” Bishop’s calm voice yelled out just as she remembered something.

“I can’t fucking look.” Angel gagged again, trying to still the flashlight for her.

“EZ grab the baby’s head, hold it stable like this.” She showed him as he followed her instructions. “Tell her to push on my count.” The nurse placed her left hand between the shoulder of the baby and the birth canal, pressing down on her pelvis to help ease the baby’s body all the way through.

She encouraged the mom to push one last time, the baby’s body slipping through and into EZ’s arms.

“Es un niño.” EZ smiled down at the baby boy who let out a loud wail as the mother sighed of relief. The whole room clapped, completely forgetting the trauma that they went through a few seconds ago.

“Holy shit.” Angel abandoned his position, dropping the flashlight, literally sticking his head in the nearest trash can.

“Are you okay?” She asked the mother who could barely keep her eyes open. The new mom nodded weakly, stretching her arms out for her newborn.

EZ placed the baby on the mother’s chest softly, making sure not to tug on the umbilical cord that was still attached.

A minute later, a knock on the door had them on alert as Bishop opened it cautiously. On the other side was an unnamed ambulance, a man and a woman dressed in medical gear stood at the door awkwardly.

“What’s this?” Bishop started to ask questions before being interrupted.

“They’re with me. They’re going to take them to a safer place, they have all the equipment to check mom and the baby. You are more than welcome to follow behind if you don’t trust them.”

Angel pulled me aside slightly, “She’s illegal—“

“I know, I’m not stupid, Angel.” She says matter-of-factly and motions for her friends to come in. “I promise, they’ll be taken care of.” She smiles down at the baby boy who had fallen asleep on his mommy’s chest.

“We got it from here.” Her friend smiles at her and helps transport the two of them, two of Vicky’s girls going along with them.

The girl who’d glared at her earlier turned to her slowly, translating what her friend told her “She said you are a blessing. Thank you, from the both of us.”

“Of course. I’m glad I could help.” She smiles back. Discarding her gloves, she turns back around to the mess on the floor.

“Holy shit. We just delivered a baby.” She turns to EZ as the realization dawns on her, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. He smiles down at the younger woman, pulling her into a hug, pregnancy fluids and all.

“Let’s get this shit cleaned up please.” Bishop’s voice breaks them apart, stopping to face her momentarily, “And thank you for helping out. You ever need anything, you know who to call.” He smiled at her, patting her on the back cautiously to avoid touching any bloody fluids on her scrubs.

“Hey, what was that word you said earlier? Cherry somethin’?” Angel snapped his fingers trying to recall the type of nurse she was.

“Geriatric?” EZ narrowed his eyes at his brother, snorting out a laugh at his attempt to remember the term.

“That one! I didn’t know what it meant so I just told ‘em you were a gynecologist.” Angel stated truthfully.

“Angel! That’s not even close to the same thing. You’re insane.” She scoffed, hitting his chest harshly with the back of her hand.

EZ laughed incredulously running a hand down his face, “Hold on, you couldn’t remember the word ‘geriatric’ but you knew what a gynecologist was?” He genuinely tried to understand his older brother’s thought process. She laughed way louder than she should have at that.

“If I went to school, that’s what I’d fuckin’ major in.” Angel smirked, throwing a wink at his younger brother and high-fiving Coco on his way past him.

“You fuckin’ did it though. I didn’t doubt you for a second.” The older Reyes praised her, and mentally praised himself for his quick thinking to call her.

“Shit you may as well thank Google, too, while you’re at it.” She giggled, making him roll his eyes playfully as he towered over her.

The rest of them helped clean up the mess of towels, sanitizing the floor until it was spotless. She’d gone home that night feeling like a million bucks, she helped save not one but two lives.

The club deemed her “#1 Gynecologist” as Angel had put it, much to EZ’s dismay but, she accepted it without hesitation, knowing that she’d found genuine friendship within the group of men, no matter how crazy they were.

[azure-firecracker]

What would Kate and Eva do if they were the only ones who got trapped in the basement with Riley?

OOH I LOVE THIS ONE AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TW: Blood, pain, graphic descriptions of stabbing, knives, mentions of murder.

@thatboleyngirlreads this wasn’t written for you specifically, but I thought you might enjoy this one.

Kate sighed as she plopped back down on the sofa next to Eva. Annleigh and Reeses were still upstairs getting ice with Riley and Cairo, which made for a very awkward dynamic between the two.

Kate glanced over at their new flyer. She was pretty, Kate could admit that. Maybe even beautiful. No, definitely beautiful. 

Wait, was she blushing?

“I like your pin.” As she said this, Kate felt her face growing hotter and hotter. “Oh crap. I literally already said that, I...”

Eva laughed. Of course she had a pretty laugh, too. “Hey, it’s all good. It’s been a crazy night.”

Kate grinned, rolling her eyes. “Now that’s an understatement.”

A noise at the top of the steps pulled both their attention away from one another. Riley had just come back into the room, wearing her usual enormous smile and closing the door behind her as she entered. 

“Thank you so much for coming back here! I know it’ll be a bit hard, but...”

“I...just came to get my things.”

Riley’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Where are Cairo and Reeses and Annleigh?”

RIley’s perky smile came right back, but it almost looked forced. Kate couldn’t blame her. It had been a long night. “Oh, they’re still getting ice. They’ll be right down.”

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something felt wrong. “Well, we can’t practice without them.”

“Right! Good point!” She turned to the door,  ponytail bouncing. She turned the knob, but instead of opening the door, she kept jiggling it like she was in a bad comedy movie. She turned around, looking slightly scared. “All right, very funny. Who locked the door?”

“WHAT?!” The girls spoke at the same time. Kate felt fear filling up her body. This wasn’t good.

Eva leapt up from the couch. “Well, is there a key or something?”

Riley nodded, looking around frantically. “Yes! There is a key...somewhere...in this basement, and I will find it! In the meantime, you can try to...uh...text Cairo and Annleigh, and see if they can let us out!”

Snapping out of her haze, Kate whipped out her phone and began trying to access her messages. Her hands were shaking, but she felt Eva’s hand on her shoulder, which helped calm her down a little.

“Why is the WiFi not working?”

Eva turned to her, panic starting to really take over her face. “There’s no cell service?”

“Not in the basement!”

Kate sighed, slumping back against the sofa. “Well what the fuck are we supposed to do now?”

Eva clapped her hands together, clearly trying not to believe the worst. Not in a fake peppy sort of way like Riley, but in a trying to see some semblance of hope sort of way. “Well, I mean...they’ve got to notice we’re gone soon enough.”

“No they won’t.” The sound of Riley’s voice, darker than usual, from the other side of the room, startled Kate and nearly made her jump. “They got their stuff already. You two were so busy trying to stop them that you left your things down here. But they didn’t.” She looked up, and Kate was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “They’re not gonna stay. Why would they?” She sighed, glancing at a photo on the shelf behind her that could only be a young Cairo and Riley. “Cairo was right.”

Kate was in shocked. She’d never expected to see their own peppy captain looking so...broken.

In a flash, Riley’s broken expression was gone, replaced by her usual peppy smile. “You know what? Maybe this is a sign. Eva’s new to the team, and I was gonna ask Reeses to be your sort of guide, because she’s new too, but she knows the team so well, but Kate’s a Junior. It makes more sense if she does it. So how about I go see if my parents hid the key in this...bathroom, aand Kate, you can teach Eva some of our cheers! Good? Okay great!” And, ponytail swinging, she disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Kate turned to Eva awkwardly. “You...don’t have to learn the cheers. I mean, they’re pretty easy. Being the highest ranked flyer in the state and all, I’m sure you’ll pick them up, no problem.”

Eva cocked her head at her. “Was that supposed to be sarcastic?”

Kate felt her face growing hot again. “No. That’s just...how I sorta sound a lot. Sorry.”

Eva smiled. “No, I get it, actually.” She grinned. “It’s kind of cute.”

If Kate were the fainting type, she probably would have fainted then and there.

Instead, she leapt backwards on the couch. “Well...uh...we can learn the cheers, I guess. Only if you want to, though!”

Before Kate could find out if Eva did indeed want to learn the cheers, Riley came back out of the bathroom. When she caught sight of the two, she froze completely in her tracks. While her mouth kept on the same peppy smile, her eyes changed completely. In a split second, they seem to shatter, almost like glass, to reveal something dark and...terrifying, lurking underneath. Almost subconsciously, Kate felt herself backing away, and she saw Eva doing the same.

“Kate...I thought you were going to show Eva the new cheers.”

“We were just getting to that!” Kate sounded disingenuous, even to her own ears. She was just suddenly so nervous.

Riley sighed, leaning on the arm of the sofa. “You know, Kate, it’s really disappointing when members of this team let us down. We work hard, and some of us want to go to Regionals, and we want to be something more than...” she stared Kate right in the eye. Her blue eyes looked more and more broken with every word, the darkness coming closer and closer to the surface. The more she said, the faster she spoke, as though she could barely control what she was saying. “Than the worst team ever.”

Kate felt a nervous laugh escape our lips. “RIley...what are you talking about?”

Riley turned away so that Kate and Eva could now only see her back. “I was just so excited to be the captain. I thought I could turn this team around. But some things...some people, they’re just such big problems that they ruin this team for everyone else. There’s really nothing to be done.”

All of a sudden, Kate felt the pieces snap together in her head. Of course.

“It was you. You killed Chess and Farrah.”

RIley spun around, eyes wide and wild. “But Kate, I had to! Our team was infected! When you have a tumor, you don’t just...sit there, you cut it out, right?” She stared at them. “Right?!”

“Riley!” Kate stared their captain in her eyes. She’d known Riley was fragile, but not like this. Never this. “It’s all right. Eva and I are...here for you. Do you have the key?”

Riley nodded wordlessly.

“Alll....all right, then.” Kate glanced at Eva, who she noticed was subtly sliding her phone about of her pocket. So she needed a confession. “Why don’t you just...let us go? We promise we’ll come right back. Just...give us the key.”

Riley’s eyes filled with tears. “I...I can’t.”

Eva nodded, phone behind her back. “We know it’s hard. We understand, really. But we want to help you.”

Riley’s whole body shook. “No. No. No!” So quickly that Kate barely registered the motion, she pulled a knife from her jacket, pointing it at Kate and Eva, who both backed up instantly. As she did, Kate spotted the key sticking out of Riley’s coat pocket. If she could just get close enough...

“Look, RIley. We’ll do the cheer if you want. All you have to do is ask. You’re right. We’ve been pretty unhelpful. I think we owe it to you to...be better teammates, you know?” Just a little closer...

Riley’s eyes narrowed. Kate wanted to yell at herself for every moment she’d ever been snarky and sarcastic, because Riley was clearly not buying her nice girl act at all.

In a flash, Riley’s eyes moved over to Eva, landing on her phone. “Oh, I see, Eva. This is how it’s going to be.” 

There was a blur of motion, and suddenly, Kate found herself in Riley’s grasp, with the captain’s left arm wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides, and her right hand pressing the knife against her leg.

The knife cut through the flesh of her right thigh, and all she could feel was pain. Her vision disappeared, replaced by flashes of black and white. She could feel her own blood soaking her leg. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t feel, she couldn’t...

The knife dug in deeper, and it all got a hundred times worse. She felt tears of pain and fear in her eyes.  At long last, Riley pulled the knife out of her leg, leaving pooling blood behind. But in another flash, she was pressing the knife against Kate’s throat. Kate could feel her throat about to bleed.

God, was she really going to die like this? In pain, alone in a basement with a girl she’d known for one night and a murderous cheerleading captain? Was she really going to die after her best friend had been killed and she’d been left all alone?

Everyone she’d ever loved had left her behind. And now she was dying, and she’d never get the chance to see them again, and none of them would even remember her.

And then, very faintly, she heard a voice, through the haze of pain and fear.

“Riley, what are you doing?”

“You want that recording, Eva? Fine. But she dies.”

“You can’t do this!” Eva’s voice was growing more desperate by the second. Even in her haze, Kate could tell. “You need a team!”

“You really think I couldn’t replace every single one of them with another diversity scholarship in two seconds?” 

Kate felt the floor creak beneath her feet. “Please, Riley. Just...give me the key. I won’t tell. I’ll erase the recording, I promise.” The genuine fear in the flyer’s voice was surprising. “But don’t kill her.”

Riley laughed. Kate felt her arm twitch, and she saw something shiny flying through the air. “You want the key? You can have the key. But if you leave this room, with or without erasing that recording, she doesn’t come with you.” The knife pressed closer into Kate’s neck, and Kate winced in pain. “You know, Kate, it’s been so hard keeping you on this team, cause you’re so good, but you’re so fucking annoying.”

Kate had to bite her tongue to keep herself from screaming. 

“Why can’t I erase the recording and leave?”

“Because then you’d just tell everyone. And that would mess everything up, wouldn’t it? The case is closed. There’s no evidence, no fingerprints. I made sure of that!”

“Why would they believe me?”

“They wouldn’t. But they might believe her.”

Kate opened her eyes just in time to see the realization dawning on Eva’s face. “You were never going to let her out of here.”

“Oh, I was. I didn’t expect to tell you everything. I really am sorry about that.”

Eva was barely a foot away now. “Let her go.”

“Erase that recording.”

Eva sighed, glancing at the key and the phone in her hands. She held them out to Riley. “Fine. You win. You get both of these. You can even have me if you want. Just don’t hurt her.”

Riley laughed as she wrapped her right arm completely around Kate’s neck, leaving the girl temporarily unable to breathe, and used her left arm to reach for the phone.

In another flash, Eva dropped her phone on the ground, grabbing Riley’s left wrist. Riley’s right hand plunged the knife closer to Kate’s neck, but Eva’s hand was already there, grabbing her wrist. The two were suddenly locked in a battle of strength as Kate tried desperately to claw Riley’s arm away from her neck.

At last, with one final push, Riley went flying backwards, slamming into her own trophy case with a crash before laying still on the ground. Without Riley there to hold her up, Kate felt herself plummeting to the floor, but she felt arms wrap around her waist, supporting her and catching her before she could hit the cold, hard stone.

She opened her eyes, still gasping for air and crying from the pain. “I thought you were the flyer and I was the base.”

Eva laughed, relief filling her eyes. “I think we’re allowed to make exceptions to that rule.” Kate groaned as she tried to sit up, leaning on Eva’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you just take the key and leave? Why bother staying here with a murderer?” Eva’s eyes widened. “Because I wasn’t going to leave you alone here.”

“You just met me.”

“So what? You don’t leave people alone like that.”

“Yeah,” Kate muttered to herself, “but people have a knack for doing it to me.”

Eva didn’t appear to hear her, but she pulled her in even closer. Kate felt her face growing hot again.  “Look, Kate. What just happened was crazy. But I like you. You seem like a really, really good person. And you’re definitely not someone I’d ever leave behind.”

“Even in a locked basement of death?

Eva laughed. “Especially in a locked basement of death.”

***

Eat your hearts out, Kateva stans!

This one was SO much fun! It’s definitely been my favorite mini fic I’ve written so far, though I’m not sure exactly how mini it was by the end.

Anyway, hope you all liked it as much as I liked writing it:)

[hannahcoursey]

Fragments Part 1

Author: Hannahc56

Word Count: 3,291

Request: Hi hi hi, dod you think you could do one where the reader loses her memory? Thank you - I can’t wait to see what you do with it!

PART TWO HERE. PART THREE FINALE.

----

The blood seeped from your thigh at an alarming rate, staining your light jeans a deep crimson on its way down your leg. You reached up and yanked against the fabric of your long sleeve, thinking it might make a good tourniquet for the moment, but with the drastic blood loss, you were too weak. You sucked a breath in and blinked away the haze that started to form around your vision. 

Loud grunting was audible from the room next to you, as Sam and Dean fought the three vamps that had come out of nowhere. The larger one out of the three of them had jumped on your back, tackling you from behind. When you’d landed, a loud crack filled your ears and suddenly, your arm was facing the wrong way. In the struggle, you’d hardly had time to pull your hunting knife from your pocket before he turned it on you. The power struggle had left you on your back and you had managed to move his forceful aim away from your chest and it plunged deep into your thigh. You’d felt something snap as he slid it deeper down your leg, leaving a gash about 5 inches long and God knows how deep, before Sam tackled him. With the adrenaline pumping in your veins, you’d managed to make it out of the room so you could assess the damage. Now you sat right outside of the same room, trying to remind yourself to breathe, as the task of being conscious grew to be more and more difficult. The grunting and usual noises of a struggle died down and you could hear the deep bass of the boys’ voice floating through the air.

“Y/N?” Dean yelled, his voice booming through the old barn. 

“I’m over here Dean.” You yelled back, cradling your arm that hurt more by the minute. After a moment of loud shuffling and heavy boots on cement, Dean came around the corner and into your vision. You attempted to give him a reassuring smile, but a flash of burning pain scorched through your leg and you sucked in, leaning your head back. Dean was on the floor and kneeling beside you in an instant, his hand splayed across your cheek.

“What hurts?” He said, his eyes moving over your face, looking for anything that isn’t intact.

“Well, I don’t think my arm should be facing this way,” You let a light laugh that turned into a grimace, “But my leg,” You nodded your head down at it and his eye followed, “My leg is leaking fast.” You swallowed hard, your eyes growing heavy. He wiped a hand down his face as Sam walked in, his eyes widening at the growing pool of blood underneath you.

“Dean, we gotta get her outta here.” He bent down next to you and put a hand on your leg. Dean took off his cargo jacket and gripped the one sleeve with both hands, ripping it from the seams. He leaned down and got to your level.

“Y/N/N this is gonna hu-” He started.

“Yeah, yeah, I know big guy, but it beats bleeding to death so just do it.” You bit down on your lip and let your head fall back against the wooden barn door. Sam's hand snaked into your grip on the other side while Dean pulled your leg up and positioned the tourniquet around it. 

“Okay…” Dean looked at you one more time before refocusing on your leg, “Three,” He said, right as he tightened it against your leg. A groan of pure pain left you, leaving you to whimper quietly. Dean grabbed your face and you looked at him through your half-closed eyes.

“Sammy c’mon, she's looking extra pale, let’s get this show on the road.” He said, his hands dropping from your face, tossing Sam the keys. He pulled you up from the ground and you choked back a sob that threatened to leave your lips along with the wind that it knocked out of you. He pulled you to his chest as you sucked in quick breaths with your head on his shoulder.

“I know it hurts, I know,” Dean whispered calmingly, his steps quickening as the three of you exited the barn. The fresh October air stung as it hit your wounds and you shivered. So cold. 

Dean slipped in the backseat of the Impala as the engine roared to life. Sam reeved it, leaving a trail of dust in the rearview as he drove down the driveway, hooking a quick right onto the main road and pressing the pedal to the floor.

“What are we thinking Dean?” Sam shot him a look through the rearview, “Bunker?” He asked. Dean placed his hand on your cheek and brushed back your hair.

“Hospital.” He answered, returning Sam’s glare. He turned his attention back to you as Sam picked up speed. You looked up at him, your blinks growing heavier and heavier. So tired.

“You’re doing great Sweetheart, alright?” He forced a smile that looked almost painful on his features. It was a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You licked your lips and nodded slow. 

“I feel like a million bucks,” You wheezed, trying to return the smile, but he could see right through you.

“Well, you look like a million bucks.” He whispered, his tone low and sarcastic. A laugh rumbled in your chest and came out flat.

“Right.” You forced out the words, as your eyes shut slowly.

“Hey, hey, eyes up here, okay?” He patted your cheek and you opened your eyes using every fiber of your being.

“I can’t,” You swallowed hard, your mouth dry as you sucked in harsh breaths, “I can’t fight it,” Your heartbeat hard in your chest, the panic rising in your throat, “I’m so tired.” You finished, your eyes rolling back slightly.

“Hey, Y/N, no don’t do this, you can do this, just keep your eyes on me, okay?” He patted your cheek, harder this time. When you opened your eyes again, he was staring down, looking feverishly at every freckle on your pale face.

“Dean,” You whispered, the reality of the situation setting in your bones as a tear ran down the side of your face. His eyes begged for you to stay, to not drift off to whatever waited for you in the darkness behind your eyes. You reached a hand up to his stubble covered cheek and he covered your hand with his own and leaned down. “Don’t let me die, Dean.” You whispered, your words dying flat on your lips, almost inaudible. When he pulled back to answer, your eyes were shut.

You were already gone. 

----

God, what is that awful sound? The beeping. It would not stop. You reached up an arm and rubbed your eyes, slowly fluttering them open. Bright white lights shone down on you, the light smell of industrial cleaning sifting past your senses. You looked down at your light blue gown that was tied together on your body by a few strings. Hospital. Your heartbeat faster, the beeping sound growing louder and daunting in the empty room. You looked around. Just a chair and an old box television. You reached down and threw the thin blanket off of you and sat straight up. Only then, a nurse walked in with a smile drawn across her face.

“Got a hot date?” She winked as she crossed the room and put the blanket back over top of you, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. Her hair was white and she looked like someone’s grandmother, with her warm smile and bright eyes. When you didn’t say anything, she reached down and grabbed your hand. “Honey, you wanna tell me your name?” She said, her smile falling to a tight grin. You opened your mouth - nothing came out. You stared at her. What is going on? You shook your head and a small whimper followed,

“I-I don’t know,” You pulled your hand out of hers and covered your face. What is my name? 

“Don’t worry about it, the young men that brought you in said you were talking nonsense the whole ride to the emergency room, it’ll come back to you.” She straightened the blanket out and tidied up. Men. Not one guy, so two? Three?

“Men? What men?” You questioned.

“Oh they were absolutely beautiful,” She swooned, her eyes growing wide, “The one gentleman was at least 6 and a half feet tall and the other one that, well,” She hesitated, “Was holding you, had the most striking eyes I’d ever seen. He almost didn’t want to let go of you if I’m being honest.” She shook her head as if she felt for him. “You don’t remember them either, honey?” She questioned. You sat back and shook your head, a pang of disappointment filling your chest. “Well, they seemed very worried about you, that’s for sure.” She grinned again.

“Did they give you a name? Did they tell you my name? Theirs?” You asked, grasping for anything. She only shook her head in response. Tears lined your eyes as you laid back, sinking into the stiff bed. 

“Listen, why don’t you get some rest.” She patted your bed and turned to leave.

“Wait-” You called out for her and she turned, her smile still there and genuine. “What’s wrong with me?” Your voice cracked and a few tears slipped down your cheeks. She tilted her head and walked back to you and picked your hands up once more. 

“Nothing is wrong with you sweetie, you’re just confused but it’ll clear up, just give yourself some time.” She rubbed a reassuring circle into the back of your hand with her thumb. Definitely someone’s Grandmother. “When you came in, you weren’t doing too good - Had a nasty gash right through the artery in your thigh and your arm was twisted,” She looked down at your arm and blinked a few times as she reached out for it. “Does that hurt?” She poked it lightly. You shook your head and she pushed on your arm harder. A silence fell between the two of you. “I’ll be darned.” She said, more to herself, as she looked off.

“What? What’s wrong with my arm?” You asked, bringing it up to your chest. You moved your fingers around and felt your arm again - no pain.

“I just could’ve sworn when you’d come in your arm was twisting in every direction but the one it was supposed to.” Her smile had faded, and she let out a light laugh. “Must’ve been thinking of another gal, nothing to worry yourself about.” And with that she walked out of the room, leaving you by yourself - whoever that was. My leg? My leg feels fine. You sat straight up and pulled the covers back once more, only to find a large piece of wrapped up white gauze on your left thigh, a bit of dried blood soaking through. You poked it. No pain. You pressed harder. Nothing. You peeled away the pieces of tape that held it against your skin and peeled it back. There was nothing there. You were perfectly fine. You laid back and felt more tears prickling at the surface, spilling down your face. You turned to your side, thinking maybe some sleep would do you good. 

When you got situated, you noticed a small black device sitting on the couch across from you. You moved the covers off of you and placed your feet on the ground, slowly making your way to the object. It was a phone. Thank God. You were one step closer to figuring out who you were. You flipped it open and it beeped on, illuminating the dark corner of the room you stood in. You pressed a few buttons until you got into the contacts. It was empty. You searched through your call logs - empty. You shut the phone and held it in your fist, frustration rising in your chest. You turned around and walked to the door, peering down the hallway. The nurse that you had been speaking to had her back towards you as she tapped away on an iPad. You took a few glances and slipped out of your hospital room and down the hallway. You’d passed a few doctors, but assured them you were going for a walk to stretch your legs and they only shot you a strange look before walking in the opposite direction, probably to alert the nurses - little did he know you’d be long gone by the time anyone noticed. You slipped out the back door and your bare feet settled onto the wet pavement, rain pattering down from above. A bus pulled up a few hundred feet away from you and you figured that it would probably be your best bet. With a hospital gown on, no clothes, money or a name for the matter, you got on to the bus and hoped for the best. 

----

It had been about 6 months since you’d woken up in the hospital. You’d taken the bus all night until the driver told everyone to get off so he could use the restroom at one of the bus shuttles you’d stopped at. When he got off, you’d left and broke into a vacant car that sat in the parking lot, driving it off into the night. Thankfully, the car had clothes in the trunk, so you slipped the pair of sweatpants that were four sizes too big for you and the large sweatshirt and the men's sandals and drove until you found something that had a nice ring to it. And that happened to be a small town right near the Redwood Forests in California. 

You went into a few clothing stores and opted for the thrift store and shoved a few pieces of clothing underneath your oversized sweatshirt and ditched your sweatsuit for a pair of jeans, a tank top and a black hoodie that read, Proud Dad of a Berkeley Student, in worn-out lettering. You didn’t have the luxury to be picky. 

After some searching, you’d found a little cafe and worked shifts there. Your one coworker, Amy, had befriended you. She was in her late 50’s and a little worn around the edges but it made you like her even more. After a while, she noticed you wore the same outfit to work every day and when she confronted you about it, your hesitation made her realize that you were sleeping in your car and so she offered you the couch in her apartment. It was a nice setup, and you had no complaints about it. You’d spend hours drinking wine, after a long shift and gossiping about the customers that came in, laughing drunkenly into the night with Amy by your side. It didn’t feel like home, but it was the closest you were going to get to it.

No memories had come back to you.

You decided to call yourself Levi; And that was only because when you had walked into the cafe to apply for the job, Amy said the job was yours if you wanted and asked your name. Frantically, you looked around, trying to spit out a name - any name - on the spot. During this, Amy had leaned over and picked up a napkin that had fallen off the counter and a brown tag labeled “Levi Jeans” in red lettering jumped out at you - and there it was. You were Levi. If you’d had more time, you probably wouldn’t have chosen it, but there wasn’t much you could do about it now. It helped that Amy stuck to calling you “El”. The nights were slow and you enjoyed her company. 

Except today was especially busy at the cafe. On Fridays, the cafe hosted karaoke night and a lot more people than usual showed out for it. Amy usually closed up shop around 9:30 and you couldn’t wait for the clock to strike. Amy and you hadn’t had a moment to catch up and gossip about the customer that came in and had so much botox she could hardly move her face to order her coffee. You couldn’t wait to get home and laugh off the stressful day with her and get a good night's rest. Just as Amy crossed the room to flip the “Open” sign to “Closed” a woman walked through the door. 

“Hi there, I apologize, we actually just closed for the night.” Amy offered the woman her fake business voice and a smile. You looked down at the clock and realized it was almost 10 o’clock. The woman returned her smile and stuck a hand out.

“Sorry for such late notice, but I own this store,” She said as Amy reluctantly shook her hand, “I just needed to stop by and give it a good once over.” Amy nodded her head and welcomed her in. When she walked back to you, she was nervously rubbing her neck. 

“That’s the owner?” You whispered, your voice low as you peered into the hall the entered into the kitchen where the woman was. She was wearing dark jeans and heels that matched her bright red shirt. Her hair was dark and cut off abruptly at her chin. Amy shrugged.

“Never seen her a day in my life - Only the managers come every now and then, it’s sort of just been me.” She reached down and grabbed her phone from under the counter. “I know the cafe has two other locations, I guess she hangs out over at those stores.” She distractedly swiped and tapped on her phone screen, a smile lighting up her face.

“What?” You asked, a devilish grin climbing your face as Amy’s blushed. 

“Remember that guy that played the guitar last karaoke night?” She leaned in closer, tilting her phone towards you. “Well, he dropped in tonight to give me his number, so I texted him and he just asked if I wanted to meet him at the bar down the street for some drinks because he has a gig!” Her eyebrows went up and down comically and you stifled a laugh as you patted her on the shoulder. 

“Damn, go get em’ tiger.” You winked at her before she untied her apron and put it in the pile on top of yours underneath the counter. You followed her to the front door as she wiped her hands down her jeans. 

“You’re good to close up then?” She asked, basically a foot halfway out the door. You grinned at her and rolled your eyes.

“Yes, yes! Now, go!” You pushed her out as she clapped, basically skipping her way out the door. You watched her go and turned the lock behind her. Now all you had to do was look busy until the owner left. 

You walked back to where you’d been standing and finished wiping down the countertop by the cash drawer. You reached four your phone where Amy had stashed hers, but couldn’t find it. Bending down, you lifted up the table cloth that laid over the counter and peered under the counter. Only your aprons haphazardly in the little out cove. You patted your apron, but it was empty. Dammit Amy, must’ve taken my phone with her.

You turned and walked back the hallway, peering into the kitchen. The woman wasn’t there anymore. You took a few steps and entered the main kitchen and looked around. You didn’t even know her name to call it out and see if she needed anything. Just as you turned to walk back out to the counter, a fist came out and punched you right in your face, your nose crunching loudly underneath the force. Your head hit the ground as you fell right back, taken completely by surprise. Right as your vision darkened, you saw a bright red heel kick into your stomach - then it all went black.

----

Thanks for reading :)

[maddestzoomer]

dirty blonde

request from anonymous - hi! can you write fem!billy with steve harrington? steve going to the pool just to see her and they hook up in the lockers. thank you!! (just billy is gender-bent, steve is still steve)

warnings - general smut, unprotected sex (if you're going to have sex, please do it safely for both you and your partners safety!), low-key public sex, slight angst, cursing

word count - 1.7k

a.n. - well this was fun to write haha

i usually don't write smutty stuff, so forgive me for how poorly written this is. plus, ive never written fem!billy before, so like- forgive me for that too lmao. i feel like my writing when it comes to smut is like- generally kinda shit, so if you have any tips or helpful critiques, please! share! them!

.`.

The smell of cocoa butter and tropical sunscreen lingered in the air, mixed into a cocktail with the smell of chlorine. The pool wasn't too busy today, mostly thanks to the gloomy, rain-filled sky above.

A storm was coming, and Billie could feel it. Just by the electricity and humidity in the air- the way it stuck to her skin.

Perched on the lifeguard tower, she watched as that boy walked in. The one who's lips tasted of honey and who's skin smelled of pine.

Steve Harrington.

The simple sight of him was enough to make a smirk pull to her lips. Glancing to her watch, she saw it was time to switch with Heather. Thank God.

 She knew why he was here, why he sent a glance her way, even if he wouldn't admit to it.

Coming down from her chair, she watched him slip away into the locker room. Already, she could feel excitement building. Even though she didn't want to admit to it- didn't want to admit to the fact Steve Harrington had a hold on her in some way- there wasn't any denying it.

She past Heather, not even bothering to send the girl a glance. She was on a mission.

Walking into the lockers, she saw him. She closed the door behind her but didn't bother locking it. She liked the risk. The possibility.

"Woah there, Harrington, you're getting undressed already?" She greeted teasingly with that husky voice of hers, a smirk playing at her lips. He had already taken his shirt off, showing his simply gorgeous body.

Steve looked over at her, smiling. "I didn't think you'd come." He said- well, lied. He knew she'd show. She couldn't help herself. Already, he could feel his cock twitching to life.

"Oh, please." Billie said with a simple roll of her eyes. "That's such bullshit and you know it." She walked closer to him with that damn look in her eyes. The one that made her baby blues look so much darker- so much more intimidating. They were the eyes of a predator- perhaps a wolf. Something wild and dangerous. Something like Billie.

Steve pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched the dirty blonde walk towards him.

She was truly something to behold. Long tanned legs and a mane of unruly hair, pink lips pulled to a smirk. That fucking smirk. The smirk so many guys and girls had fallen for. She grabbed at the straps of her one-piece with her cherry-painted fingertips, tugging them down until they sat at her shoulders. Still, her chest had yet to be completely revealed.

Billie stopped before him, tilting her head to the side as she looked up to him. She was tall- at least 5'8- so she was close to his height. She liked it that way, too. She liked the eye contact she could make with him, strong and unbreaking.

"What is it, Steve?" She asked, reaching out and gently tugging at a strand of his hair, twirling it around a long finger. She moved closer to him, putting her face into his. His senses were almost overwhelmed with the smell of her coconut sunscreen, with the way he could feel her chest pressing against his. "Cat got your tongue?"

He licked his bottom lip, shaking his head. "This is dumb, Billie. We can't do it here," He softly murmured

"Can't do what?" She asked, glancing at his lips. "Can't have fun?" She smirked as she saw him bite the inside of his cheek. He was trying to control himself.

She pressed her lips to his, pushing her hand deeper into his hair until she had a solid handful. Her lips were just as soft and sweet as he'd remembered. That simple action was enough to make him grow harder, to make a soft and quick moan escape his lips.

Steve pulled away, looking down at her with searching brown eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"You're hilarious, Cave Boy." She responded, which was her odd way of saying yes.

She kissed him again, this time with more passion. With more need. She bit down on his bottom lip as he put his hand to her hips, pulling her closer.

Steve took this as his chance to push her up against the locker, a soft gasp cutting into their kiss as her back pressed against the cold metal. He knew they couldn't take too long, given the risk of someone walking in and the fact Billie would be expected to be back outside at some point.

"Fuck, Steve-" She breathed, lips already growing reddened. Steve could only manage to smirk softly, tugging her suit down until her breasts were exposed. He immediately put a hand to one, rubbing her nipple between two fingers.

His other hand trailed down her leg, were goosebumps were already being made. He put a hand between her thighs, causing her hand to tighten in his hair.

He began kissing her jaw, gentle and soft. Pulling her swimsuit to the side, he rubbed her clit, causing her to toss her head back until it pressed against the locker. She pulled her lip between her teeth, skin feeling simply electric

Her other hand went to his shoulder, steadying herself. Her nails lightly dug into his skin, earning a groan from against her neck, then a gentle, teasing nip

Billie could feel his cock pressing against her leg, which only made her clit feel somehow more sensitive. Her blood pounded in her ear, her heart wildly thudding against her ribcage.

He pulled his hand away, using it to pull his pants down.

"You ready?" He softly breathed against her ear, causing her to smirk slightly.

"Fuck yeah," She purred in response, hand raking deeper in his hair. She's in absolute bliss. Although she wouldn't admit it- especially not to Steve. She truly did like him, but she also liked him thinking she only tolerated him.

Steve smiled as he hiked her up some against the locker, causing her long legs to wrap themselves around his waist to prevent from falling. She could feel him aligning himself with her entrance, which earned a quick moan, hiss, and whine to fall from her lips all at once. She could feel how hard he was, especially as he gently pressed into her

A moan strangled itself in Steve's throat, causing a smirk to pull to Billie's lips. She loved hearing his reactions- what she could cause him to do or sound like.

She further sunk down onto his cock, making Billie's back arch and her hips buck sharply into his. Her chest was closer to his face now, allowing for him to nip and suck at the tender skin. Surely, there would be marks left on both of them when they were finished.

There was a hunger in them both, one that made for his hips to move faster, deeper, more desperately. She looked up to the ceiling, brows knitting together as she tried her damn best not to yell out. Already, she could feel something stirring deep inside- gears beginning to turn.

His breath was hot and sweet against her skin, making for her to simply feel more. Alertness. Clarity. And fuck, he had to admit. Feeling her around him was absolutely incredible. Awakening, even.

When Billie was with Steve, whether fucking or kissing or simply staring each other down- the world felt different. Like it was stuttering on its axis. Something simply powerful.

"Fuck-," Billie spoke, voice throaty and hot.

Steve reached his hand down between them, gently rubbing her clit in circles which earned him her hand tightening in his hair, a pleasure-filled moan breaking from between her lips. Steve, like Billie, adored reactions. Throaty moans and reddened cheeks made sex simply more.

"Do you like that?" Steve asked against her skin, causing her to smile. Not slyly smirk- but to smile. Genuinely, too.

"Yes," She choked out quickly, far faster than she'd intended.

Already, Steve felt a bundle of energy building in his lower abdomen- one that twisted and turned sharply, becoming more powerful with each thrust.  

A few more deep thrusts later, he saw bright green and yellow as his eyes flickered shut, that bundle of energy in his stomach now being released all throughout his body, causing him to roughly buck his hips even deeper.

His deep thrusts combined with her clit being stimulated resulted in a fucking supernova for Billie. A loud gasp for air, moaning Steve's name, plus feeling an absolute hurricane of gratification resulted in Billie digging her nails into Steve's shoulder (Not that he'd mind. A little pain made the pleasure even more powerful.)

When their orgasm was finished, Billie allowed Steve to gently set her down on slightly shaking legs, muscles tense and cheeks bright red. Her chest rose and fell dramatically as she panted for air.

Steve's still twitching cock slipped from inside her, causing the very smallest of smirks already playing at her lips. She looked up to him, eyes lovely and sweet. Having sex with Steve was always a fun experience.

"You okay?" Steve softly asked, his voice somehow throatier than before.

Billie was taken a bit off guard by the question. Concern expressed after sex from her partner wasn't exactly something she was used to... but she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit she liked it.

"You amaze me, Cave Boy."

[takeiteasypeasybaby]

Save Me: Chapter 18 - Angel or Devil?

~Hey guys! Chapter 18 has just been released ❤️ This is a dark chapter, so I’m just forewarning everyone that if anyone is triggered by sexual assault/rape then avoid this chapter. As always, love you guys and stay safe ✌🏻~

Molly and Negan were unstoppable, inseparable. Or so they thought? With Molly being put into harms way because of Negan, will he ever be able to forgive himself?

A couple days had passed since Negan and I came out as a official couple.

He always joked that we were now the King and Queen of the Sanctuary but I just rolled my eyes every time.

I was nice though, seeing him this genuinely happy.

But, in my heart, I knew it wasn't meant to last. Things right now were too perfect.

I had officially moved into Negan's room and now my room was like an office.

I guess this was what he meant way back when, when he asked me to help him run this place one day.

Negan was still the leader of course but now people knelt when I walked by too.

It was a curious feeling, it felt dated and wrong but at the same time it was exhilarating.

I felt like I was worth something, like people depended on me, more so than people ever did back home.

Sure, some people talked, but I didn't care because the majority were happy for both of us and I think that a lot of people liked having me by his side to calm his moments of rage.

There were far less punishments after all.

But some would always blame me and call Negan weak, especially Simon.

This was made worse by Negan's decision to demote him.

'There's my girl' Negan said smirking and sauntering up to me in the main hall.

He wrapped an arm around my waist as I was taking inventory of the food stuffs.

'You don't have to do that' Negan said confusedly.

I sighed 'I know, but I want to. I can't just parade around here without pulling my weight' I said turning around to face him.

'Well, all I'm saying is that you won't have time to do that once you accept your new position' he said smiling excitedly.

I tilted my head in confusion, 'what position? I thought we talked about that' I said in a hushed tone so no one could hear, even though all eyes were on us.

'I know that you're my partner darlin, but I need someone by my side in all operations, and you'd be goddamn perfect for that' he said softly and still smiling eagerly.

I looked at him hesitantly.

'Are you asking me to become your right hand man...I mean woman?' I whispered, he just nodded while smirking.

I sighed, 'but I'm not a Saviour?' I said slowly.

'I know that doll and I get that this is a lot, but I can't trust anyone else' he said softly.

'Besides, I've already given Si his notice' he said nonchalantly.

My eyes widened at this.

'You did what?!' I yelled in a strained whisper which now people could hear.

'He already hates me enough' I said sternly.

'So what if the asshole's threatened by you, maybe it'll kick him up the ass enough to get back in line' he said scowling.

I sighed and asked 'can I at least think about it?'.

He nodded in response as I walked back out of the hall.

Negan stayed in the hall, people asking him questions as I left.

I thought we had agreed on my position, but apparently not.

I rubbed my neck in frustration as I walked down the hall which was dimly lit for some reason.

There was silence, you could hear a pin drop.

Only the sound of my footsteps echoing down the hallway, when suddenly a large arm grabbed me at the corner and pulled me against the wall.

It was darker now, but I could make out the face.

It was Simon.

He shoved me forcefully against the wall, I winced at his aggression.

'What the hell do you want?!' I shouted.

'You. It seems, that around here you have nine fucking lives honey, so I'm gonna teach you a lesson' he snarled as he pinned my arms by my sides.

He was far stronger than I was.

'Help!' I screamed as he put his hand over my mouth, he chuckled sinisterly.

'Don't worry, I've made sure that Negan is occupied. He won't hear you, no one will' he said grinning viciously at me.

Although he had my arms pinned down, my legs weren't.

With all my might I collided my knee with his balls.

He winced and weakened his grip immediately.

I tried to get away but he pulled me back by my hair and landed a punch straight to my face.

I crashed down to the concrete floor immediately, the impact of the surface colliding with my head knocked me almost unconscious.

He punched me over and over, in my stomach, my legs, my face he left relatively untouched.

I was weakened, floating in and out of consciousness, lying on the floor and blood gushing out of my nose and cheek.

The shock concealed my pain until after.

I heard him unbuckling his jeans and I knew what was coming.

He pinned down my arms, digging into my skin as his weight crushed me.

I was numb, frozen and unable to move. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

A short while later, he stood up and spat venomously 'now I get what Negan was talking about'.

He pulled up his jeans and said 'now, you tell Negan about any of this, I give the heads up to my guys to kill your sister Tara, might even let them rape her first. Depends how I'm feeling. Oh, and tell your boyfriend that you want me to get my position back'.

He chuckled as he walked back down the corridor, leaving me there in a pool of blood on the floor.

Even after he left, I still felt him on me like I was somehow infected.

I lay there, shaking as tears continued to roll down my face, mixing with my blood.

As soon as I heard footsteps getting louder and louder, I knew someone was coming and I remembered what Simon had said.

I couldn't tell anyone.

I tried to gather myself back up and scrambled at the ground to pull myself off of the floor when I figure stopped dead in front of me.

Sherry.

I quaked and shivered in front of her, my entire body revealing cuts and bruises.

Her eyes widened as she was stunned to silence, 'oh my god' she whispered.

'Oh my god, Molly. Molly are you okay? What the hell happened?' she asked rushing over to me frantically.

As soon as I saw her face, I broke down.

Tears rolled more ferociously down my face now, I stuttered and scrambled to make words come out of my mouth.

She hushed me as talking made me more nervous, instead she held me up and stroked my hair as she brought me to my room.

There was no one else down the corridor, just me and Sherry.

Her eyes were filled with tears like mine at my pain.

She held me up all the way to my door and laid me gently down onto my bed.

'Shhh, I'm here now. I'm here. You're okay. You're safe now' she repeated as she stroked my hair.

'I'm gonna get Dr Carson to check you out. I'll lock the door behind me, don't worry' she said calmly as she walked towards the door.

She knew exactly what had happened without even asking.

I didn't know whether that was comforting or worrying, thinking the same might have happened to her.

'No, please Sherry! No one can know!' I yelled in between tears.

'You could get an infection and I'm not losing you. I'll make sure no one is around okay? Trust me' she said calmly.

I just nodded slightly.

I lay there, still until the Doctor came.

When he saw the state of me, he was overwhelmed.

'Molly, Dr Carson is gonna take a look at you, okay?' Sherry said quietly as she guided the Doctor into my room.

He sat nervously on the edge of the bed as he scanned over my bruises and cuts.

'Molly, the Doctor will need to touch you, is that okay?' Sherry asked nervously, I just nodded while I closed my eyes tightly.

I hated the thought of anyone touching me after what I went through, but I just kept thinking that the quicker I healed, the sooner I could see Negan.

He checked for broken bones. There were none, just a sprained wrist.

He then disinfected and covered the cuts, stitched up the more open ones.

Finally, he slowly handed me a morning after pill. I looked at it for a second, so did Sherry.

That was when it hit me.

I took it with a sip of water and just lay there while the tears rolled down onto my cheeks which were burning from the bruises.

He left paracetamol for me, alongside some bandages and antiseptic.

I just nodded at him and he left.

Sherry could barely look at me, her eyes so full of sorrow.

'I-I am so sorry that this happened to you Molly' she said crying as she sat down next to me.

Her face now hardened with anger, 'who did this to you?' she asked sternly.

I looked away and took a deep breath.

'If I tell you, you have to promise me that you won't do anything about it' I said sternly as my voice was shaking.

'Molly...' she said softly.

'Promise me!' I yelled as tears continued to flow.

She just nodded softly, 'Simon' I said hesitantly.

She looked at me with wide eyes, in silence.

'But if you told Negan...' she said softly.

'No. If Negan finds out, Simon will kill my sister and I don't doubt that he has people ready to do it if he gives the word' I said softly.

'He has to pay for this' Sherry said, rage filling her body.

'He will, eventually. But not now and not soon' I said shaking my head.

'What about Negan? He'll want to see you?' she said worriedly.

I nodded, 'you'll think of something to tell him' I said seriously.

She looked at me with her eyes wider than before, 'what would I say?' she asked frantically.

'I don't know. But you have to promise me Sherry, that you won't let him see me. I need you to do this, for me and Tara' I begged.

She sighed and looked to the floor, 'The doctor won't tell and I'll tell Negan that you're ill, but you'll be fine' she said nodding at me in reassurance.

I smiled weakly at her and thanked her.

She then left me so I could rest.

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling for what felt like hours. I couldn't sleep, I didn't feel safe enough to do so.

Suddenly there was a gentle knock at the door, my eyes widened as a rush of anxiety came over me at the thought that it might be Negan.

'Darlin, let me in' he said calmly.

My eyes teared up at hearing his voice.

I shut my eyes tightly and prepared myself so I sounded like I wasn't in pain.

'I'm just about to go to sleep' I shouted from the other side of the door.

'Darlin just let me see you, please. Sherry said that you we're ill. I wanna take care of you' he said softly.

I could hear the pain in his voice. Tears flowed down my face.

All I wanted was to just open that door and have him hold me forever and tell me that everything would be okay.

But I couldn't.

I wiped my eyes and sniffled as I composed myself.

'I’m pretty tired, I just want to sleep and I've got the flu so I wouldn't want to make you ill too' I said, pressing myself against the door frame, trying to feel him through the wood.

'In sickness and in health darlin. Just let me in' he said now with worry in his voice.

'I’m fine, I promise' I said sternly.

'I thought you moved into my room? Why don't you sleep there? You'd be more comfortable and I could be there for you' he said as his voice was breaking revealing the hurt he was feeling, not knowing why I was being distant.

I clenched my eyes tightly shut in agony. Tears flooded my face at his pain and mine.

I took a deep breath, knowing what I needed to do.

'I just need some space.  The move was too soon and I don't want to be your right-hand guy. Please, just give me time' I said sternly.

He was silent on the other side for a few minutes.

'Do you love me?' he asked sternly as I heard him bang his head against the door.

I wiped away my tears.

'Of course I love you. I just need time to myself to think' I replied weakly.

'Goodnight' I said gently, which he didn't respond too.

I only knew he had left once I heard his footsteps get quieter and quieter.

I limped back into bed, scared because I knew full well that he couldn't give this up.

He would come to my door every night and beg me to let him in.

A week later...

After a week of trying he came once more.

'Darlin, you better move back from this door because I'm about to break it down' he said sternly.

I gasped as his men broke the lock and the door swung open to reveal Negan standing there in front of me with three of his guys.

My bruises had faded slightly but they were still visible.

He just stared at me, tears forming in his eyes at the pain I was in.

'Leave us' he said sternly to his guys who immediately nodded and walked away.

Negan shut the broken door somewhat behind him.

'What the fuck happened?' he said, rage filling his body as he walked slowly towards me.

I tried to hold back my tears and fear.

'Nothing, I was sparring with someone and got hit. I'm fine' I said cooly as I moved away from his gaze and pulled my boots on.

'You're not fucking fine. You have bruises all up your arms' he said as he tried to reach out to touch me gently.

I flinched and yelled 'don't touch me!'.

He looked at me in confusion and worry. 'Darlin...' he said worriedly, making me fight back my tears once again.

'I said I'm fine' I said sternly as I turned and walked out of the door.

He paced after me. 'I don't believe you. I know you, you are the love of my goddamn life so I know when you're not telling me something' he yelled after me.

'Did someone hurt you?' he said slowly as he stopped in front of me.

I looked into his eyes, trying hard not to cry.

'No one hurt me, it was an accident then I got ill okay?' I said as I kept on walking, trying not to look at him.

'I need you to leave me alone, please. I need space' I said as I walked faster.

He stopped dead and didn't respond.

Silence echoed through the corridor, he had let me go...