#and then you know she gets in trouble joins a gang and gets her face fucked up in the end

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Trouble

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> When Bucky first meets you, he thinks you're nothing but trouble. Eventually, it becomes a nickname you answer to.

Disclaimer: fluff with steamy moments at the end, enemies-ish to lovers, hint of fake dating as Bucky is Reader's wedding date, Bucky gets a little jealous, sharing a hotel room, reader works for Shield, Sam and Maria are mentioned to be engaged, swearing. Not fully proof read.

“Hey, Trouble.” 

You gave a short sigh, but kept the smile on your face. “Morning, Buck.”

Bucky had been calling you ‘Trouble’ since the first day he met you. Granted, having first met you, he thought you were trouble. You’d been inside a building they were surveying and he mistook you for one of the gang members he and Sam had been watching for the last three months. You’d given them the slip that evening, only to turn up in their Monday morning meeting. 

Hill had hired you. 

“Hill, she’s nothing but trouble. We caught her-”

“I know you did.”

Sam looked at his fiance. “And you’re still gonna hire her?”

Maria nodded with her arms folded across her chest. In honesty, it was more like a shrug before she turned to you. You’d been far too relaxed in your seat since Bucky had walked inside. Just another indicator that you were trouble. And you were smiling. Smirking? 

Maybe a bit of both. 

“I was a Fed.”

“You’re a Fed?”

You shook your head. “Was. Was a Fed.”

Maria continued for you. “She graduated first in her class in everything. Field work and academics, alike. Y/n has been on our radar for a while.”

Because you were trouble.

Bucky felt Sam nudge him. “Subtitles, Buck. You might not be saying anything but we can see it on your face. I can see it on your face.” 

Bucky just scowled more. Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Credentials like hers don’t come across my desk too often these days. I wanted to see if she was the real deal so I sent her to tail you two.”

Both men did a double take of Maria and yourself. “Us?!”

You laughed a little at their surprise. “Yes, you. You know, for two of the world's best Avengers you are both terrible at being secretive. In the space of three days I’ve managed to find out your routines.”

“Three-” Sam’s words spat from his mouth. “Three days?! You’ve had her following us for three days?”

Maria shrugged, again. “Told you training was coming soon. Gotta find a way to keep you both of your toes.”

It was then Sam’s turn to scowl. He understood why, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Three days? He and Buck had been followed for three days by-by-by a, a what, a teeneger?

It was only when you replied, “I’m in my 20s.”, did Sam realise he’d said his question out loud. 

“You’re a fetus.” Bucky said before looking at you. Biologically, he might be in his 30s. But his birthday was over a hundred years ago. 

You just smiled at him. 

“Y/n’s gonna be joining your team.” 

“What?” Bucky asked, almost giving himself whiplash as he turned back to Maria. 

“Relax, Sergeant Barnes.” He looked back at you. “I’ll mostly be working alongside Captain Torres. As fun as field work can be, I’m a lot more useful to both of you behind a monitor. So, if you ever need anything hacking. Government secrets? Secret chambers? That dating profile Sam set up in your honour?” 

Nearly giving himself whiplash again, Bucky looked at Sam. And, as guiltless as he tried to look, he failed. He’d set him a dating profile up? When?!

“You just let me know,” you smiled.  “Am I free to go, Director?”

Maria nodded. “Bishop agreed to meet you outside your apartment to help you get settled in.”

You nodded with a smile. “Thank you.” Then you turned back to your new teammates. “See you boys on Wednesday.”

That had been almost three years ago. It had taken all of twenty minutes for Bucky to adopt your new nickname. Trouble. In the beginning, it had been because he thought that’s what you were; trouble. Bad news. But, after a while, you started to wear him down. 

It had taken a week for Sam to get used to you, and less than five minutes for Torres. He liked the way you kept “the grump” as you called him, on his toes. 

Eventually the nickname of Trouble moved away from hatred to a little more affectionate. It did take you entering field duty again without letting anyone know, saving both Bucky and Sam’s lives when they got cornered in a run down mansion out in the middle of nowhere. 

But never once had you forced a smile at the nickname. So, when you said “Morning, Buck.”, Bucky stopped in his tracks. He looked up from his clipboard, silently watching you for a moment. 

Even if your entire body wasn’t dripping with sweat as you continued to pummel the swinging punching bag in front of you, and even if your hair hadn’t been frizzing out from your rough ponytail as the back of your head; Bucky still would have known you were stressed. 

You never forced a smile around him. You’d been exasperated, tired, exhausted, angry, kind, loveable, happy, joyful, excited and every other emotion around him. But never once had you faked a smile around him. 

Around others? Sure. That was how he knew this one was fake. 

“Hold your horses.” Bucky said as he walked closer to you. 

You sighed, pulling your punches from the bag before finally standing still. 

“What’s up?”

“Nothing-” You started, shaking your head. But he wasn’t biting. 

“No, not nothing. What’s going on? You’re glaring at the bag like it owes you six months rent. What’s going on?”

You sighed, completely exhausted. “Nothing, Buck. It’s fine. I swear.”

“Trouble?”

You looked at Bucky. 

For as long as you’d been alive, you’d been able to read people. Their inner thoughts, their deepest feelings. But nobody had ever been able to read you. 

Until Bucky. 

Sam tried his best, as did Torres. And, credit where credit is due, they did well. But that was only when you weren’t trying to hide it. A long day at work? A show ending the way you didn’t want it to? 

But days like this? 

You’d gone all week without letting people see. And you knew they couldn’t see. But Bucky? It was like he could see right into your soul. 

And it scared the crap outta you. 

“Bucky…” Your voice was soft, pleading for him not to dig. 

It took all of thirty seconds for him to look away from you, looking at the ceiling with a short sigh. “Alright, come on.”

Taking you by the shoulder, he stepped you away from the punching bag and hooked the clipboard under his arm before taking your wrapped hands into his. Then he started to unravel the bandages. He could already see the small bruises on your knuckles. 

“You’re gonna need to ice them.” 

He said nothing else as he unravelled your hands. Then, he took hold of one. He dropped the clipboard on the bench as he walked you both over to your gym bag before dropping your wraps into it. 

“Bucky-”

“Come with me.”

“Buck- Bucky.” You looked around you, confused as to why he was dragging you out of the gym. “James!”

He pulled you beside him before pressing a gentle hand on your lower back. 

“This feels like ‘The Quiet Man’. Where the hell are we going?”

“I’m getting you out of the compound.”

You almost started jogging beside him. “Okay, I get you’ve been trying to fire me since day one but you don’t actually have that authority.”

Well, at least you were still joking with him. Even if he had tried in the early stages, he hadn’t tried to get you fired in over two years. 

Eventually you stopped arguing, simply sighing and saying, “Fuck it.”

Whether he was gonna try and fire you, kidnap you or drag you to a church in Ireland to get married; it was better than staying in the compound, throwing punches hard enough to break the bag for a second time. 

Two hours later, Bucky’s motorbike was parked up in the dirt road behind you both as you sat beside each other, your legs hanging over the edge of the grassy hill. 

“Feeling better?” Bucky asked as you were half way through your food. 

You nodded, a lot calmer than you were back at the compound. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Then after a beat, he spoke up again. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged. “Not much to say.”

“I think the punching bag might disagree.”

Bucky watched as a smile flexed subtly on your face. But after a split second, it disappeared. Your shoulders, somehow, dropped lower and you shook your head. 

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Then start at the beginning.”

“I’m starting to regret showing you the movies you missed.” 

Bucky chuckled to himself quietly. Since you had become friends…kinda…you’d taken it upon yourself. Or rather, you and Joaquin, had taken it upon yourselves, with Sam’s help, to bring Bucky up to speed on everything he’d missed since being in the ice. 

It was on the nights when it was just you and him; maybe Sam was called away by his sister or his fiance, or Joaquin went to see his family. It was on those nights where you’d show Bucky the true classics. The ones he would have secretly loved if he’d gotten a chance to see them when they first got released. 

They were some of his favourite memories with you. 

Taking in a breath, you tried to work out in your head where the beginning was. 

“Work’s kinda taking its toll on me.” Finally admitting that outloud felt a lot easier than you’d thought it would. Bucky seemed to always have that effect on you. He made things easier. “I, uh, I’ve been asked to guest lecture at my old Training Academy and they keep trying to make me agree to a full time contract. The students apparently have learnt a lot and it makes their attendance records look better than they have done in years. Though, I’m pretty sure they only attended the lecture in the hopes that Joaquin would turn up again.”

Bucky just sat and listened to you as you looked out to the rest of the city. 

“I enjoy doing them, and I know the students like asking questions some of the teachers won’t answer directly. But between the missions, and the intel gathering. That’s taking me a lot longer than it used to, by the way and I hate it. I used to be able to crack open almost anything. But since tech development or whatever…criminals are a lot smarter than they used to be when it comes to their encryption.”

You took a few more breaths before continuing. 

“My family has been calling more and more recently, too. Don’t get me wrong. I-I love em’. But…” You let out a long breath. “It’s everyday. They’re asking for new information and I don’t have it. I’ve had a good day – that’s all I can say. I’m not dead. I spend my day going over lines and lines of data. What the fuck am I meant to say? And then I got an invite through my door last week inviting me to my cousin’s wedding and the phone calls from home have basically tripled. I’ve had to switch my answering machine off. They were filling it; have you got the invite yet? When are you gonna reply? You’re gonna be sitting next to your aunt from your dad’s side, you know I can’t stand that woman. Have you got your dress yet? Your dress is important, you need to look your best for the photos, Grandma will want ten copies, have you got a date yet? Do you need a date? Do you want me to ask your cousin if she has any single friends? Or maybe her fiance knows somebody? You can’t come to a wedding alone. Or maybe it’s best, that way we can help you find someone-”

Bucky laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, hey, okay. Okay, breathe. Deep breaths.”

You took some more deep breaths. 

“It’s a never ending cycle, Buck. I-I go from one extreme to the other and…and I don’t know what I’m meant to do. I love my family, but right now I can’t think of anything worse than flying home and seeing them right now. And, as much as I love my work, I’d rather wait before I see another line of data.”

Bucky didn’t say anything for a while. He just studied you. The way your shoulders fell, the way your true feelings and pure exhaustion took over your expression, the way your voice dropped from the hurried pace from earlier. 

“You’re burning yourself out.”

Now, you finally looked at him. 

“You need to take a break. Call Hill in the morning and tell her you’re taking two weeks. If you don’t, I’ll do it for you.” 

“But we’ve got-”

“The next mission won’t happen until next month. But you need a break. Y/n. And as for your family, what if I went with you?”

“What?”

“Take me as your date.”

A small laugh escaped you. “Bucky, you don’t-”

“What?” He leaned back, his expression teasing. “Too handsome?”

“It’s not that-”

“Too old?” Bucky gave a short gasp. “I gotta tell ya, that’s ageist.”

You laughed. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…you don’t have to do that for me.”

“Why not? You’re my friend.”

“Oh, we’re friends now?”

Bucky shrugged. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”

You smiled, softly. 

“Come on, what could go wrong?”

You nodded, slowly. “My family will meet you and never want to let you go, that’s what.”

Bucky just shrugged again. “Can’t help it. Mom’s love me.”

“Bucky, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. And I’m telling you to take the offer.”

You remained silent as you kept your eyes on him. Bucky watched as you bit your bottom lip pensively, like you were running through every worse case scenario before getting to the good ones. 

“Come on,” he whispered. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Finally, you agreed. “Okay.”

For the next two weeks, you spent most of your time relaxing, completing the jobs in your apartment you’d ignored over time and dress shopping for the wedding that would be taking place in two months time. 

By the time you got back to work, things felt less like a tsunami being thrown over you and after the mission, a wedding with your family didn’t seem too terrible. 

“Do I have to wear a bow-tie?” Bucky called out from the hotel room as you remained in the bathroom, fixing your make-up. 

You’d left him twenty minutes ago to get dressed. 

“According to the invite, it’s compulsory.” 

You heard Bucky groan a little before swearing at what you gathered was either himself, the invite or the bow-tie. 

“Why couldn’t it be a normal tie?”

“Because my cousin loves the idea of Old Hollywood.”

“Technically, when I went into the ice it was just known as Hollywood. And we wore ties.”

You chuckled, putting your lipstick brush down before quickly blotting your lips twice. Throwing the tissue into the bin by the door, you walked out of the bathroom, around and around the corner and back into your shared hotel room. 

“Parts of culture have been lost to time sadly, so bow-ties it is,” you said as you came into view. “Come here. I’ll do it.”

Bucky had caught a glimpse of you in the mirror, but seeing the real you. Not the reflected version…that was something else entirely. The colour complimented you in a way he’d never seen before, and the way it hugged and draped on your body was making his mind think things that he shouldn’t be thinking about his friend and co-worker. 

You were stunningly gorgeous. 

As you stood in front of him, so close that if he leaned forward just a touch, he could press his lips to yours,  his senses becoming filled with you and his hands itched to touch you. To hold you by your waist or your hips, just to keep you standing so close to him. 

“There.” You leaned back a little before looking at him with that smile that, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, had made him weak at the knees since the first day he’d met you. 

With your hands braced on his shoulders, you turned him around to face the mirror. “You look handsome.”

It wasn’t a genuine compliment covered up by a joke. You weren’t teasing him. 

You were being genuinely honest. 

And you tried to ignore the way he looked at you and the feelings it gave you in your chest, but meeting his eyes in the mirror only seemed to make that feeling grow. 

You hadn’t missed the way Bucky had stopped as you entered the room and how it took him a moment before his body kicked back into gear in order to stand in front of you. But you tried to ignore what you were feeling at seeing him dressed the way he was. 

Often he was in henley t-shirts and jeans when he wasn’t in his field uniform. So, seeing him all clean cut and in a tux was making you feel things. Since the henley’s were almost every day, you’d been able to, over the years, make yourself slightly immune to the feelings they gave you. 

But you’d never seen him in a tux. 

Even if you didn’t know he’d been in his 20s in the forties, seeing him dressed like this would have given you the feeling that he definitely had been in a past life. 

“We better go before we’re late.”

Bucky tried to find comprehensible words to say. The best he could come up with was, “Yeah.”

It wasn’t until the reception that he would finally be able to tell you how beautiful he found you. 

The wedding had been beautiful, every corner of the wedding venue being draped in silk. The dinner had gone off without a hitch. You and Bucky were seated together and despite the judgy comments from your aunt, Bucky held your hand throughout the entire thing, answering each question your aunt threw at him. 

And by the time people were invited onto the dance floor after the bride and groom, your aunt, happy with your choice of a date, nudged him to ask you to do as much. 

All he did was hold out his hand and looking from him, to the dance floor and back again, you took his hand. 

“I, uh, I don’t-” 

Bucky said nothing. With a light smirk on his face, he did what he’d wanted to do all night. Well, one of the things. 

Stepping into you, his hand firmly on your waist, he gently threw one of your hands to his shoulder before holding your other one firmly in his. 

“Okay.” Bucky heard you say quietly. 

His light smirk formed a small smile. “I might not know how to tie a bow-tie, but I do know how to dance.”

You nodded. “That. Is. Clear.”

You felt a little awkward, trying to keep your head away from the thoughts it was spilling into. 

Bucky chuckled and you felt his gravelly breath by the shell of your ear. “Just trust me, doll. I promise I won’t let you fall.”

You did, eventually, manage to relax a little as the song bled on. And, just as it started to feel easy and natural to be held by him in this way, his words sent both your head and your heart into a spin. 

“You’re gorgeous, by the way.” You leaned your head back a little to look at him. Was he fucking with you? “Stunning.”

You were thankful the lights were dimmer than they had been at dinner. It gave you at least a little cover for the heat that overtook your cheeks. 

“Thank you.”

Nothing else was said after that. You couldn’t keep looking at him, in fear that if you looked at him for too long, he’d be able to see right through you. 

So, with your temple resting against his, you let him lead you in a slow dance along with the rest of the couples. 

A little ways through the dance, you felt Bucky’s hand on your waist dip a little lower and onto your hip before moving to your back where you could feel his fingers softly trailing up and down your back against your dress. 

You felt yourself shiver at his touch. 

Bucky smirked a little by the shell of your ear. “Cold?”

When you spoke, your voice felt a little strangled to your ears. “No.”

You heard a small hum from his chest before he pulled you closer, or maybe you stepped closer to him, and his fingers softly continued to trail up and down. 

A few songs later, both you and Bucky sitting at a new table that your mother had dragged you to, you were asked to dance with someone your uncle had dragged over to meet you. And throughout your entire dance with the new guy, you just wished you were back in Bucky’s arms. 

However, as you danced, you failed to notice the way he was looking at you. But your cousin hadn’t. When Bucky’s eyes fell on you, he had a mixed look in them. Complete adoration and love, and that he could eat you alive. But when his eyes fell on the guy you were slightly awkwardly dancing with, a darker look took over. 

Jealousy. 

You’d told her that you’d be bringing a date, and from what your family had told her, your date was just a friend. But having watched both of you dance, and the way Bucky was looking at you…you certainly were not ‘just’ friends. 

And even if you were, it wouldn’t be for long. 

Then Bucky stood, carefully making his way over to you. And the look in your eyes when you spotted him making his way over…

Your cousin was certain the next wedding she would be attending would be yours.

“Mind me cutting in?”

The guy shook his head and stepped back, saying quiet words of kindness to you. But once you found yourself in Bucky’s arms, you felt yourself melt. 

“Thank you.”

“You looked like you had a stone in your shoes, trying to dance with him.”

“That’s kinda what it felt like. Glad to know I’ve got acting skills to fall back on if I ever want to quit. Or if you get me fired.”

“I’ll only get you fired if you start causing trouble, Trouble.”

A light smile appeared on your lips for a few seconds before you disappeared into his shoulder to hide your face from him. 

Two more dances and a conversation split between three different groups later, you were ready to go home. You said goodbye to your cousin, both you and Bucky complimenting her and the wedding before taking your leave. 

By the time you got back to the hotel, taking your heels off in the lobby, thankful to feel the cold marble floor beneath your feet, the clock was starting to reach midnight. 

Bucky took your hand in his, leading you to the elevator. And where you both could have stood opposite each other, without thinking, he pulled you into his side. Both of you stood in the centre of the elevator, Bucky leaned over and pressed the button to your floor. 

In the silence, Bucky watching the numbers climb higher and higher, you took time to look at him. The shape of him, his jawline. He’d taken his jacket off and given it to you on the walk inside to the hotel. The bow-tie was now loose and around his neck. 

“You’re staring.”

For the first time that night, you didn’t look away from him. 

“Can’t help it.”

Bucky looked back at you just before the doors to the elevator rang open. There was a soft smirk resting on his lips. 

“Come on, Trouble.”

Leading you out of the elevator, you pulled the hotel room key from your purse before sliding it into the door. With a beep, the latch unlocked itself and you pushed the handle down and Bucky helped you push the door open. 

The entire room was quiet. The moonlight floated behind the soft curtains, lighting up a few spaces on the carpet. The room remained quiet as you and Bucky walked around before he opened up the two dividing doors that led to his bedroom. 

Looking over your shoulder, you watched the muscles in his back tense as he opened the two doors and walked inside. And, despite wishing to stay and watch the show of Bucky getting undressed, you moved towards your bathroom. Zipping down the side panel zip, you let the gown fall to the floor before you pulled the clean pajamas you’d left on the counter over your head and up your legs. 

Despite the hour, you and Bucky stayed up a little longer to talk. He was back in a henley shirt and some long plaid pajama bottoms. 

The same ones you’d bought him when you’d been his Secret Santa two years ago. 

Your make-up had long been washed away and you and Bucky spent at least forty minutes gossiping about what the third cousin on your mom’s side had been wearing in replace of a hat. 

Then you had to say your goodnights. 

Only, as he closed the dividing door behind him, you felt like something was missing. You wanted him to stay. You wanted to keep talking to him. You wanted him…you wanted him to touch you the same way he had done on the dance floor, his voice gravelly by your ear, sending goosebumps across your body in a way nobody had ever done before. 

Little did you know, Bucky wanted the same. 

He could hear your footsteps on the carpet behind the door. The soft light from the lamp in your room shone under the door and he could see your shadow walking back and forth. Each time you walked back to the door, so did he. Only to then see it walk away, so he did the same. 

For the fifth time, you walked back towards Bucky’s door. Except, before you could walk back across the rest of your room, the door opened. 

And there he was. In the glow of moonlight from his own room, barely six feet from you. Neither of you said anything for a few moments, just letting the silent conversation pass between you. 

“I don’t want tonight to end.”

The words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them, or reword them. But you didn’t need to. If anyone understood you, it was Bucky. 

You didn’t know who moved first, but barely a second later, Bucky’s hands were pushing through your hair, pulling you closer as his lips crashed against yours. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you pulled him closer before fisting his t-shirt. 

A moan vibrated from his chest as you pulled him closer, letting his kiss deepen. His finger ran through the lengths of your hair, gently pulling. 

As his steps carried him forward, yours carried you back until eventually he spun you, lifting you into his arms. Feeling your back secure against the wall, his hands supporting you, your body rocked against his hips as he leaned forward, driving your own further into the wall. 

You moaned a little as his tongue slipped past your lips and his fingers squeezed at your flesh. 

By the time you both woke up in the morning, breakfast had long been over, the sheets would be a completely tangled mess. And yourself and Bucky would be in a similar position; limbs tangled with one another's, heartbeats steady enough it could be mistaken for one, and the feeling of his fingers trailing up and down your spine. 

[luveline]

Hotch’s little sister x Spencer, they gang up on her about her safety or health or something, and she’s like “I’m happy you’re getting along, but don’t love getting ganged up on” 😂

You thought that when things between Spencer and Aaron finally became less awkward again, things would be easier. It was never your intention to drive a wedge between them, but perhaps it’s not your fault. 

After all, Spencer’s the one who chose to date his boss’s younger sister. That was his idea. 

Of course, you ate up his flirting and agreed to all your dates, but still. Spencer’s fault for sure. So why are you in trouble? 

“Honey, I’m honestly a little surprised with you.” Aaron takes a deep breath. “It was a completely unnecessary course of action.” 

Surprised with you is more apt than he realises. “Wait a second, what?” You’d known you were in for a scolding from his weird text, but you have no idea what he’s talking about. 

“You went for a walk in the city alone at midnight?” Aaron frowns. “Have you learned nothing from me?” 

“How do you know I went for a walk?” 

Aaron raises his eyebrows. You look out of the window of his office and straight into the guilty face of your boyfriend. He has the decency not to look away, at least. “Spencer told you that?” 

“He did.” 

You meet the big, soft, beautiful brown eyes of your lovely boyfriend and quirk a finger at him for him to join you in the office. 

“Don’t start, honey.” 

“Aaron, I’m allowed to go for a walk.” 

“In the city? In the middle of the night?” Aaron gives you another unimpressed eyebrow raise. You glare at him, not fond of being questioned. 

“I had my phone.” 

He pinches his brow. 

“Aaron, what’s up with you? I’m well within my rights to go for a walk. I wanted to clear my head. I didn’t go down any side alleys.” 

“You realise you’re being defensive with me because you know it was a silly thing to do.” 

You bristle. The door opens and honestly seeing Spencer’s little frown makes you more annoyed than you had been. “Spencer, why would you tell him my business?” 

“It came up in conversation?” he tries. 

“Spencer.” 

“I was concerned! You can’t just walk around at night in the city by yourself! Who knows what could’ve happened to you, and Hotch agrees with me, it’s too dangerous…” He bites his lip. “I didn’t mean to tattle, and I don’t want to tell you what you can or can’t do.” 

“But I can,” Aaron says. “We all know you’re aware of the danger you put yourself in. Please, don’t do it again.” 

“I feel like I just went back in time a hundred years,” you say. 

“It’s an antiquated attitude, but it’s, you know, grounded firmly in reality,” Spencer says, and you’re surprised to find he isn’t shying away from you now. “It’s reckless. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“It would destroy me,” Aaron says without preamble. “Honey. Please, you can’t do that again, especially without telling someone where you’re going. What if somebody hurt you?” 

You pause to digest what he’s saying. He’d profiled you correctly before —you’re defensive because you already knew you were taking a risk, and you knew if he found out this is how he would react. You hadn’t suspected Spencer would rat you out, but it’s not like he’d been very happy when he learned about it for the first time either. 

“Is this how it’s going to be?” you ask. “You’re going to gang up on me whenever I do something stupid.” 

Aaron’s smile is forgiving and a little bit sorry, too, “I didn’t say stupid, did I?” 

“Reckless,” Spencer supplies. 

“Well. At least you’re both getting along again.” 

“That’s yet to be seen,” Aaron says quickly. 

You wave a hand at Aaron in the universal sign for shut up and turn your full attention to Spencer where he’s laughing in the doorway. You push him out by the chest, not bothering to wait for the office door to close before you start in on him. “That was confidential information, Spencer Reid, which you were privy to as a boyfriend, and not my brother's colleague and conspirator.” 

“I’m sorry.” He smiles, and he’s sincere. “I just knew you’d listen to him.” 

Ugh. Stupid profilers. “Sure, I’ve listened. Now I’m extremely upset and in need of lunch.” 

“Where do you wanna go? I’ll buy,” Spencer says immediately. 

That’s more like it. 

[servicpop]

ITTO ⋆⋆⋆ x sub bottom m!reader

NSFW › itto is oblivious to reader's love for him, virgin itto, size difference, biting/marking, public / outside sex, breeding(?)

You and Itto were joint by the hip since little kids. You two did everything together. Exploring places you've never seen before, getting in trouble together, playing beetles together, bathing together. Your parents seemed hesitant at first when you brought little Itto over to your house, he was an oni, they weren't sure if Itto would be too rough when playing or would be a bad influence. But as time progressed, your parents eventually realised that Itto was nothing but a big softie who was a too dumb to actually hurt you.

As you grew older, Itto grew taller. Itto was always the taller one but now as you grew into an adult, he practically towered over you. Itto... didn't become any less of an airhead though, he still remained that same dumb softie from years ago.

When he offered you to join his gang, the Arataki Gang, you somewhat willingly decided to join. At first you thought by 'gang' he meant he'd do crimes and whatnot but then you thought about Itto as a person. There was no way he would be capable to make an elaborate enough plan to steal something or do any crime.

When you actually joined, you realised that it was basically just Itto and his friends hanging out but Kuki — the only one who had a semblance of braincells — that it was originally meant to be for people who were shunned out by society. However, in the process of trying to promote the Arataki Gang, due to the lack of intelligence, mischief and trouble seemed to follow the members like lost puppies. You can't count on your fingers how many times you had to bail them out.

Despite all the chaos in the Arataki Gang, you stuck closest to Itto, it was natural, you've been best friends since diapers. However, this evening when the sun of inazuma set, casting an orange and yellow hue on the land below, you and Kuki were strolling along the streets mindlessly. Itto had gone off somewhere with no contact — like he does sometimes — leaving you and Kuki to talk alone. You liked her, she was calmer than the rest and alot more intelligent.

"You like him don't you?"

Her words rang through your head like an achingly high pitched frequency as you stumbled in your step. Did you like Itto? Sure you sometimes fantasised about his big arms wrapping around you and sometimes your heart would race when he flashed you a toothy grin but—

"I notice the way you act around the boss,"

Kuki crosses her arms and leans her weight onto on leg as she looks at you. The cool evening breeze brushes past your face like a small caress and you find yourself speechless, not knowing how to respond. From your lack of words she continues,

"I was going to tell him but... I think its best if you do it yourself."

You force a small nod and she walks away, muttering something about needing to run an errand but her words fall short from your ears. You've never considered it until now how you always felt warm whenever with Itto and sometimes you even dreamt of Itto in ways that you'd never say outloud. Now looking back at how you felt around Itto... you were in love and Itto was completely oblivious to it.

You and Itto were laying down on a grassy hill, the tuffs of green tickling your back as Itto was settled next to you with his arms crossed behind his head. He was asleep. Itto had fallen asleep after causing whatever sort of mischief and called you over just to lie on a hill with him.

Silence filled the blue sky with the exception of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the wind. It was a secluded spot no one really came to, that's why Itto liked it. Away from all the judge-y eyes and incriminating stares. You watch as his chest rises and falls at a steady pace and you roll over onto your stomach, eyes still glued on Itto.

"I love you, Itto."

The words spill out of your mouth like a running faucet that doesn't shut off. You shuffle almost uncomfortably on the grass and you keep letting your confession roll from your tongue.

"I can't deny that... sometimes I get these dreams where you love me too and—"

It's too embarassing to admit that you've dreamt of Itto holding you and fucking you like there's no end but the implication is there.

"But I'll never say it to your face that I love you... I don't want to ruin our friendship." Your words hang heavy and you stare at Itto as if waiting for him to wake up and catch you but he doesn't. Your gaze falls to the ground, watching the blades of grass move along your arm from the wind. It's a ticklish sensation.

"You love me?"

That familiar hearty chuckle meets your ears and you can feel your whole world pause. Slowly turning your head, you meet Itto's gaze. He's propped up on one arm and he's staring at you with sparkles in his eyes like an oaf. Embarassment colors your cheeks as you quickly turn away; you're not sure how to face him after basically confessing how you've had a crush on him and had lewd dreams about him.

A small yelp is practically forced out of you when Itto wraps his arms around your waist securely, and suddenly he's ontop of you, holding you down. "Dreams? About me? The one and only?" Usually by now you'd groan and roll your eyes but when Itto is pressed against your body, you lose all your will to fight. "Wait wait wait wait, you've got me curious now, is it really that good?" You've always knew that Itto was a virgin, never had romantic partner before, never had a hook-up, nothing. So it was natural for the oni to be curious.

Itto's abnormally large and calloused hands roam and prod at your clothing. He doesn't know what he's doing and its clear from how mindlessly he's tugging at your pants. With a small chuckle, Itto clicks off your belt and pulls down your pants alongside with your boxers. Was he really planning to fuck right in the middle of a grass hill? "Woah, you're really small," you took offense to that and was about to retaliate until you remembered Itto was an oni, he was most likely double your size.

At this point your face was buried in the comfort of your own forearms, protecting yourself from the harsh grass below you. You hear a clink followed by a thud, indicating that Itto took off his belt and was doing the same with his pants. "You're trembling man, are you cold?" It was nice of Itto to ask but, you were mostly trembling in a mix of fear and anticipation. How would his cock actually feel inside of you? Would it be bigger than you expected?

Itto leans in and you feel something big poke at your hole. There was no way that was his cock. You glance back at him and your jaw drops to the floor. He was bigger than you expected, and his red markings trailed all the way to his tip. His hand palms at your ass, spreading it apart as he clumsily lines himself up, sometimes missing. The usually talkative Itto is now relatively quiet, his breathing becoming more exasperated as he slowly pushes inside of you.

It burns. The way he stretches you out and forces you to accommodate for his size burns but also feels addictingly good. His hands grab at your waist, squeezing the soft flesh of your body as he groans quietly. "W–What the hell... you're so tight," His boisterous ego stammers as he becomes a breathy mess, trying to push deeper inside of you. Itto's nails dig into your skin, leaving crescent shapes indents on your hip as his head falls forward. You can feel his dick throbbing inside of you and your body is completely filled with just him.

Without another word, Itto pulls out before slamming back in. He hits right at your prostate, making stars appear in your vision. "Wait Itto slow down! You're too big—" Your whines fail to reach his numb brain; all he can focus on is the way you're sucking him back in every time he pulls out. "A–ah it feels so good," Itto's teeth graze against your shoulder but he tries to resist biting down. What a sweetheart.

You feel him tremble on top of you, like he's resisting the urges to be rough and unforgiving. It was in his nature to breed. His grip tightens on you, and he has his arms firmly wrapped around your body like you're a plushie. Itto's hips piston into you causing a loud slapping sound from your skin making contact with his. He can't help but hold you close, otherwise you'd try to leave him! He's practically drooling all over your shoulder but you're too fucked-dumb to really care.

Itto's teeth finally sink into your shoulder, sucking softly as he marks you as his, "Sorry, can't– help it." His apologies are quiet as he stammers like he's acting against his own will. "Gonna... gonna cum," He whimpers, his fingers digging into your skin. That was sure to leave a mark the next day. You feel a pool of pleasure in your stomach; you're close too. The way he's hitting all the right spots with every thrust made your legs weak. Who would've thought the 'big bad oni' would be whimpering and groaning while fucking you senseless.

This was better than your dreams of him. Instead of having to groggily clean your pants every morning, you're shooting blanks out onto the grass as Itto slams his hips against your ass a few more times. He groans lowly into your ear before orgasming inside of you, filling you up to the brim. You feel his crushing weight suddenly crash down on you as he collapses from the bliss. "Itto! You're too heavy get off," you whine but your protests go unheard by the oni who's dazed out of his mind.

"What's going on with you two...?"

Kuki blinks blankly at you as she glances from your intertwined fingers with Itto and your blushing face. You weren't exactly the one for big public display of affection but Itto didn't seem to care at all. In fact, he's got you glued to his side with a big smile on his face.

"He's my boyfriend!"

a/n : big dumb itto ,, luv him

[anjelicawrites]

John's daughter comes as a suprise. After many years of trying, you two accepted the fact that no child will bless your lives. And that's when you fall pregnant. Your daughter grows up headstrong and inquisitive, a dog with a bone and no intention to drop it. John's father expects her to join the military: there's always been a Price serving the Crown. John begs to differ: his family didn't truly leave him with a say in the matter of his career, he's not going to go down the same path. The fallout is apocalyptic but John is stubborn, he cares more about your daughter's happiness than stupid traditions. She becomes an investigative journalist. Most of the times she calls from only God knows where and John's BP skyrockets at the thought of harm befalling her, despite having trained her himself in self defense.

Simon's daughter is a mistake baby. The two of you dated for a while, then he was deployed and couldn't contact you for a long time, which led you to believe he wasn't truly interested in you. When the two lines on the test appeared, you decided to keep the child and to not tell him. Simon didn't mean to disappear the way he did, once he was back he imagined you wouldn't want anything to do with him after so long. Picture his surprise when he stumbles upon you and your baby bump; it doesn't take him too long to do the math in his head and almost have a heart attack. He wants to be a part of the child's life, he's not that kind of bastard, despite his fear to be an abusive piece of shit the way his father had been. Your beloved daughter grows up to be the epitome of femininity, a successful food influencer who, because she is such a girly girl, is rarely taken seriously at first, which is unfortunate, since her dad taught her how to use a knife in the most effective way.

Kyle's daughter is a wanted and adored child. He couldn't imagine that, by accompanying his sister to the only hairdresser free, the day her usual one ghosted her, he would return home with your number in his pocket. Or that you would stick around, despite his hectic job. When you tell him you want to try for a baby he's elated and is truly in seventh heaven when the test comes back positive. You work in television most of the times and your daughter is so pretty that you get many proposals to have her act in commercials or small parts in TV series. Kyle isn't that convinced but you will always be there, know that world enough to keep her safe, plus this could be a way to set aside money for her sixth form and university. Kyle should have known that his perchant for danger would trickle down to her: she works in the TV and movies all right, as a stunt woman. He's going to have a coronary before he turns fifty.

Johnny's daughter is not planned, nor she's a mistake. You and him decided to let Mother Nature do her thing, if you get pregnant you will, if not, you two will be the weird uncle/aunt duo for his team mates daughters: there's nothing more fun than see the scowl on Simon's face when you two spoil his lil' girl rotten (and no, she can't have a pony for her birthday, according to him). Johnny is attentive throughout the pregnancy, his favourite way to spend time is painting on your tenting belly, he laughs every time the baby kicks against his hand. It doesn't come as a surprise that your daughter becomes an artist, she usually works with associations that fight gangs and try to offer young, troubled kids, another chance at life and a way out if they're already initiated. Suffice to say, there are many dangerous people who have it out on her, but you and Johnny shouldn't be anxious "The house and the studio are both rigged". As if that helps Johnny sleep at night. He might ask his captain which brand of BP medication he's on these days.

[nhaaauyen]

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART I: HEAVEN KNOWS

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part II // part III // part IV // part V

wc: 4.7k cw: guns, brief descriptions of violence author's note: ty @mirconreadzztuff22 for being my arcane encyclopedia!! This is gonna be a seven part series so buckle up!!!

You blink awake, the world slowly coming into focus as a cacophony of muffled sounds pierces your slumber. Squinting one eye open, you’re able to see shadowy figures dragging your companions away, their struggles futile against the intruders' iron grips. Your heart races, but instinct kicks in. You remain still, feigning sleep, as footsteps approach.  

Someone looms over you - in the dim light filtering through the drugstore's grimy windows, you catch a glimpse of her scarred face and steely gaze. As she reaches for you, adrenaline surges through your veins. In a flash, you slam into her, catching her off guard.

For a split second, you had the upper hand - but it's short-lived. The woman recovers with lightning speed, her combat skills levels way above yours. She easily corners you against the cold, dusty shelves, her knife finding its way to your throat. The blade's edge kisses your skin, a thin line of warmth trickling down your neck.

"Move any further, and I can end this now." she growls, her breath hot against your ear.

You raise your hands in surrender, and she roughly drags you to join the others. You're thrust into the main area, forced to your knees alongside Vander, Vi, Caitlyn, and Powder. The scene before you is horrifying - Through the front window, you see a horde of walkers slamming against the glass. Their decaying faces press against the surface, leaving smears of rot and congealed blood. 

At the fore stood the woman who captured you, her gang forming a menacing circle around your group. You noted how tall and muscular she was, her dark skin gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat in the dim light. A red shawl draped over her left side, obscuring her arm and shoulder.  Her short, styled hair framed a face set in stern lines, but her eyes, they sparkled with something dangerous, almost predatory.

The woman’s gaze swept over your group, lingering on each face before settling on yours. "Looks like we've got ourselves some lost lambs," she drawled, her voice a low, smoky rasp.

You felt Vi tense beside you, her fists clenching. On your other side, Caitlyn's fingers twitched near her now empty holster. Powder, uncharacteristically quiet, had her gaze fixed on the panels with the undead clawing their bloody fingers at.

The air crackled with tension as Vander spoke. "We're just passing through, we don’t mean to cause any trouble."

"Do you know whose territory you're in?" she demands, her voice cutting through the moans of the undead outside.

"No… but we weren’t going to settle here, let us go and we’ll get out of your hair."

The woman's laugh is harsh and devoid of humor. "I don't care," she sneers. Her eyes scan the ransacked shelves of the drugstore. "What I care about is where the remaining medications are. Hand them over."

Your throat tightens. You know exactly where they are – hidden in your pack. "I have them."

Her gaze locks on you. "Hand them over."

"Why should I?"

In an instant, she's in your face, so close you can see the flecks of amber in her dark eyes. Her scarred lip curls into a snarl. "Because you don't want to know what happens if you don't."

Your mind races, torn between protecting your group's precious resources and avoiding the wrath of this formidable woman and her gang.  Would she really let you go if you acquiesced? 

The tense standoff is suddenly interrupted by a burst of static. One of the woman's group members fumbles with a radio clipped to their belt. A male voice crackles through, urgent and clear.

"Sevika, the store's surrounded now. Get out before dark hits. Over."

The tall woman - Sevika, you now know - snatches the radio. "Copy that," she replies tersely, her eyes never leaving your group.

With a sharp whistle, her group springs into action. They wordlessly pack supplies, secure weapons, and prepare for evacuation. The efficiency is impressive, and you can't help but admire their coordination even when you had two of them keep their guns trained on your group.

“What about us?"  

Sevika's lip curls in amusement. "What about you?"

"Are you going to let us go?" Vander presses, his voice steady despite the circumstances.

"Sure," Sevika drawls, then points directly at you. "After she gives me the meds."

"What? How the hell are we going to get out of here ourselves?" Vi protested. 

Sevika's response is cold and indifferent. "If you want to get out that bad, do it yourself."

You watch Vander's mind work, always strategizing. "You have a base, it’s obviously well-supplied based on the amount of weapons and people you have. Take us with you, we can fight and help."

Sevika scoffs. "Now, why would I do that? You're lucky enough I'm letting you go alive."

Someone in her group chimes in with a smirk, "If they can get out alive." Snickers ripple through the gang, and your stomach turns at their callousness.

As Sevika's group continues packing, she allows your group to stand. You seize the moment, stepping forward. "I've got EMT training. I know how to use the medications I took."

Sevika dismisses you with a wave. "No thanks. We've already got a doctor."

"More help wouldn't hurt."

Her patience wearing thin, Sevika snaps, "I'm not picking up strays, especially ones so easy to put down."

You step closer, your face inches from hers despite the notable height difference between you two. "We were easy to capture because we were sleeping. That's a coward's move."

One of Sevika's people moves to intervene, but she halts them with a raised hand. Her eyes lock with yours, and to your surprise, her scowl turns into a smirk. 

"Okay," she says, her voice low and challenging. "Prove to me right now that you can survive.  However many survive, we'll take them in. But anyone left behind, I'm not coming back for. You're responsible for this."

Vander nods grimly. "Fine with us."

The moans of the undead grow louder outside.  While Sevika's group finishes their preparations, your group hurries to gather what few possessions you have. 

Vi angrily stuffs clothes into her backpack. "This is bullshit," she hisses. "We can take 'em. I say we fight our way out."

Caitlyn shakes her head. "That's suicide, Vi. They outnumber and outgun us."

You kneel beside Powder, helping her gather her collection of odds and ends - Her hands shake slightly as she works.

"It'll be okay, Powder," you whisper, giving her a reassuring smile. "We'll stick together, just like always."

Powder's eyes dart nervously between you and the others. "But what if they separate us? What if-"

"Shh," you soothe, squeezing her shoulder gently. "We won't let that happen."

Vander's deep voice cuts through the murmurs. "Enough," he says firmly but quietly. "I know none of us like this, but we're out of options. We can't keep running forever."

Vi whirls on him, eyes flashing. "So we're just gonna roll over and let them take us? After everything we've been through?"

Caitlyn places a calming hand on Vi's arm. "Vander's right, Vi. We're exhausted, low on supplies. This might be our only chance at something better."

You stand up, looking around at your makeshift family. "Maybe this is an opportunity. We don't know what their community is like but it could be a chance for a real home."

Vi scoffs, but there's a flicker of hope in her eyes that she quickly tries to hide. "Yeah, right. And I'm sure they invited us out of the kindness of their hearts."

Vander steps into the middle of the group, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. "Listen to me," he says. "I don't trust them any more than you do. But right now, we need to play along. Stay alert, watch each other's backs, and be ready for anything. We're stronger together, remember that."

There's a moment of silence as his words sink in. Then, one by one, you all nod in agreement.

As you finish packing, you catch Sevika watching you, that same unreadable expression on her face. 

"Alright, time's up," Sevika calls out. "Let's move."

The moans of the undead grew louder outside, time was running out. With one last look at each other, your group falls in line behind Sevika's squad. 

Sevika's group snap into formation, they move with a fluid precision that speaks of countless drills and shared experiences. Sevika stands at the center, her scarred face set in grim determination as she outlines the plan to her team. You edge closer, straining to hear every word.

"Listen up," Sevika's voice cuts through the air. "Dustin, you're the distraction. When I give the signal, toss the radio into the parking lot. That should draw most of the horde away."

"Margot, Ran, Renni take position at the rear, pick off any stragglers that get too close. Conserve ammo, make every shot count.  Finn, you’ll lead - make sure everyone is accounted for, then go, don’t wait for us."

"The rest of you, we're on supply duty. Grab everything you can carry, and prioritize non-perishables." Sevika's eyes sweep over her team, then land on your group. "I'll be keeping an eye on our new 'friends'."

As the plan springs into action, adrenaline courses through your veins. You dash to your pickup truck, sliding into the driver's seat. Powder hops in beside you, her eyes wild with excitement. In the rearview mirror, you see Caitlyn and Vi taking up defensive positions in the truck bed, their guns at the ready. Vander moves with surprising agility for his size, efficiently loading supplies.

You hear hard rock playing from the blaring radio that Dustin hurls into the parking lot. The walkers' heads swivel towards the noise, their groans intensifying as they shamble after it.

Gunshots crack the air as Sevika's shooters pick off the walkers that didn't fall for the distraction. You grip the steering wheel tighter, ready to peel out at a moment's notice.

Sevika appears at your window. "Ready to prove your worth?" she challenges, eyebrow raised.

You’re about to respond when a voice from above steals your attention.

"Sevika!"

All heads turn to the roof. A kid stands there, panic evident on his face. Sevika's eyes widened in disbelief.

"What the fuck? They forgot Ekko?" she snarls, livid at the oversight.

The momentary distraction costs you. Walkers, drawn by the commotion, shamble towards your truck. Only one corner of the store remains clear, but it's too far for Ekko to reach safely.

Your mind races, and adrenaline sharpens your focus. "I know how to drift," you blurt out. "If you guys can clear as many walkers as possible near that open corner, I can whip the car close enough for him to jump down."

Sevika eyes you skeptically. "You have an interesting set of skills…  you’re confident you can get us close enough?"

"I can do it in my sleep. So, are we doing this?" you ask.

She nods curtly. "Fine. But don't get tempted to fling me out of the car."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Sevika barks orders into her radio, relaying the plan to Ekko. The air fills with gunfire as both groups focus on clearing a path. You rev the engine, calculating angles and timing in your head.

"Hold on!" you shout, then slam the accelerator.

The truck lurches forward, tires screeching. You weave through the thinning walkers horde, your heart pounding in your ears. As you approach the corner, you crank the wheel hard, initiating a perfect drift. The world blurs around you as the truck slides sideways, stopping just beneath Ekko's position.

"Now!" Sevika roars.

Ekko leaps, landing with a thud in the truck bed. You don't wait for confirmation, immediately spinning the wheel to face the exit. In the passenger seat, Powder whoops with glee, while gunfire erupts from behind as Caitlyn and Vi pick off any pursuing undead.

A sharp tap on your window startles you from your laser focus on the road. You roll it down, coming face to face with Sevika's intense gaze.

"Need some directions?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you realize you've been blindly following the road away from the store. "Uh, yeah. That'd be great," you manage, trying to mask your embarrassment.

As you follow Sevika's directions, a sight on the horizon makes your jaw drop. A gated community looms in the distance, its high walls painted with the word “Zaun” on it represent safety you haven't seen in years. Suddenly, the organized efficiency of Sevika's group makes perfect sense. This is nothing like the ramshackle shelters you've cobbled together over the years.

The convoy of trucks comes to a halt in front of the gates. You expect them to open, but Sevika raises her fist. Your brow furrows in confusion, but before you can ask, she's out of the truck, moving with predatory grace toward the other vehicles.

She stops at one truck, yanking the door open with such force you're surprised it doesn't come off its hinges. In one fluid motion, she drags out the man who was supposed to be in charge in her absence earlier, Finn, and slams him against the side of the vehicle.

"You coward," Sevika snarls, her voice dripping with contempt. "You're a disgrace to this group."

You're transfixed by the sheer intensity of her anger, the way she towers over Finn despite not being much taller.   Then you see it - movement in your peripheral vision. A walker, stumbling closer to Sevika's unprotected back. Your heart leaps into your throat, panic flooding your system.

"Sevika!" you try to shout, but it comes out as a strangled whisper. Ekko's grip on your arm tightens, holding you back.

"Don't." he warns, but you barely hear him roaring in your ears.

Your mind races, unable to comprehend why no one is reacting. The walkers are mere feet away now. You struggle against Ekko's grasp, every fiber of your being screaming to do something, anything.

The walkers' rotting hands reach out, inches from Sevika's shoulder. Time seems to slow down. You're about to break free, to hell with the consequences, when-

CRACK!

The walkers crumples, a clean hole through its skull. The bullet whistled so close to Sevika you swear it must have grazed her.

But Sevika doesn't even flinch. 

"You're pathetic," she spits, her eyes boring into the man.

And suddenly, it clicks. The walker was never going to be a threat, but Finn was going to let the walker get her.  That decision was a huge fucking mistake.  

Before she let go, he leaned in to whisper something imperceptible but it had enough effect that she practically threw him onto the ground in response.

The gates begin to open, and as Sevika strides back to your truck, you can't help but feel a mix of admiration and fear.   The woman before you was no ordinary one, she was willing to put her life on the line to protect her people and weed out the weak links.

Sevika slid back into the seat next to you, her eyes meeting yours.  You feel exposed, like she can see right through you. There's a challenge there, a silent question: Do you know what you’re getting into?

You swallow hard, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

As you drive through the gate, you couldn’t conceal your awe. The scene before you is like stepping into a different world - one untouched by the horrors of the apocalypse you've grown accustomed to.

Neat rows of houses line well-maintained streets. Lush gardens and small farms dot the landscape, bursting with life and color. People - actual living, breathing people - stroll along sidewalks, chatting and going about their day as if the world outside these walls hasn't ended.

You count maybe 15-20 houses in total, but the sheer number of people you see is staggering. There are more living souls in this one community than you've encountered in years of scavenging and surviving.

Sevika directs you to a parking spot, and as you're climbing out of the truck, a woman approaches. She's tall and dressed in a neat uniform, with short-cropped gray hair and a face etched with the kind of hardness that comes from years of survival. Her sharp eyes remind you of a hawk's.

"How much longer were you gonna keep talking before you let me shoot?" she asks Sevika, a hint of amusement in her gruff voice.

"As long as it takes to make my point, Grayson." Then, gesturing to your group, she adds, "I picked up some strays today. Oh, and a spot just opened on my team, by the way. If anyone in your group wants to switch sides..."

"Enough of stealing my patrol, Vika."  For the first time, you see Sevika truly laugh. You notice her tooth gap, she looks almost carefree.  

“Well, looks like you survived,” Sevika says, turning to your group.

“You could say that with a bit more enthusiasm next time.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on her lips at your quip.  “It’s your turn to uphold your end of the bargain now.”  She puts out her hand.  

You retrieve the bag you stuffed under the seat, it rattles with the pills as you hand it over.  Without even a goodbye or thank you, she turns to leave, and you watch as her group immediately follows suit.

Grayson gives you a once-over, then nods. "Alright, let's give you the grand tour."

The houses were luxurious and belonged to a class you never knew. Some have solar panels on the roofs, explaining the electricity you can see being used. There's a central square with what looks like a communal dining area. The smell of cooking food makes your mouth water - real, fresh food, not the canned goods and stale rations you're used to.

You pass by a building that Grayson identifies as the infirmary. Through the window, you can see shelves stocked with medical supplies. It's more medicine in one place than you've seen since the world fell apart. You notice guard towers strategically placed along the walls - despite the idyllic appearance, it's clear this place is well-defended.

"I've got a meeting to attend but Ekko here will take care of you, though I do hope that we will meet again - my patrol squad is always looking for new members." With that, Grayson strides away, leaving you all trying to take in the scenery.

"Come on, let's get you settled in! Sky will get you guys all sorted out." Ekko waved at your group to follow.

He leads you through the streets, and you can't help but marvel at the sense of normalcy. People are going about their daily lives, talking, and laughing. It's like stepping into a memory of the world before.

"Welcome!" Sky says, her voice gentle with a hint of anxiety at the sight of your group - soot ridden and blood stained clothes weren’t the most friendly image. "We got a spare house. It’s not huge, but it should accommodate all of you comfortably."

She hands Vander a set of keys and a small map. Then, with a delicate clearing of her throat, she adds, "If I may suggest... There are showers in your new home. I think you'll find them... refreshing after your journey."

Vi snorts at the polite understatement, while Caitlyn looks slightly embarrassed. 

Sky continues, "Once you've had a chance to clean up, Ekko can show you to the pantry. We'll make sure you have enough food to get started."

You can hardly believe what you're hearing. Showers? Fresh food? It seems too good to be true.

As if reading your thoughts, Sky's expression softens. "I know this must be overwhelming. Take your time to settle in. It must be hard adjusting to how it is here, but this place didn’t happen overnight. Everyone here has a part in maintaining things the way it is. "

Ekko nods, gesturing towards the door. "Ready to see your new digs?"

As you follow him out, you exchange glances with your companions. There's hope in their eyes, but also caution. This place seems like a dream come true, but you all knew that nothing was ever permanent. 

The moment you step into your new house, chaos erupts. Bags fly everywhere as you all rush to claim spaces. Vi tosses her pack onto a bed, while Caitlyn more carefully sets hers down. You and Powder are a whirlwind of motion, exploring every nook and cranny.

Tears prick your eyes as the reality sinks in. A real home, after so long.

"I call the couch!" Powder shouts, leaping onto it.

Vi raises an eyebrow. "You can have the bed, you know."

"Nope! This is perfect," Powder grins, bouncing slightly.

You all burst into laughter, the sound foreign but welcome after so much hardship. As the laughter dies down, you realize just how hungry you are. Powder’s stomach growls loudly, causing another round of giggles.

"I think that's our cue to hit the pantry," Vi says, standing up and stretching. "Come on, let's see what they've got around here."

At the pantry, you're shoveling food into your mouth, barely pausing to breathe. "I know this is canned, but why is it so good?" you mumble around a mouthful.

Ekko chuckles. "We have fresh fish, vegetables, and fruit too."

Your eyes widen in disbelief just as Sky walks in, Sevika close behind.

"Oh perfect, we were looking for you guys!" Sky says warmly.

Sevika's eyes scan your group. "I see you're settling in already. We’ve got jobs for you."

She starts assigning roles, Vander and Vi in food gathering. Then she turns to you, Caitlyn, and Powder. "You three will be working here in the pantry."

"What? Even after all those 'interesting skills' you said I had?" The words are out before you can stop them, tinged with disbelief and a hint of anger.

"This is a serious job. Making sure everyone gets the right rations is important. Preventing theft, too." Her tone is cocky, almost challenging.

Fury bubbles in your chest. After everything you've been through, all the skills you've developed to survive, you're being relegated to... food inventory? You want to argue, to prove your worth, but the words stick in your throat. You're acutely aware of how precarious your position is here.

Beside you, Caitlyn looks equally stunned. She's an incredible shot, her skills were wasted on this task. But like you, she remains silent.

"Understood," you manage to say, the word tasting bitter. You exchange a glance with Caitlyn, seeing the same resolve in her eyes. 

The days blend into one another as you settle into a routine at Zaun. It's surreal, to be able to think beyond mere survival. Conversations here with others touch on memories, hopes, dreams - luxuries you'd almost forgotten existed.

You're lost in thought, mentally cataloging the supplies, when a familiar voice cuts through your concentration.

"Looks like our newest recruits are really getting into the swing of things."

You turn to see Sevika leaning against the doorframe. Her presence fills the small space, making the pantry feel even more cramped than usual.

"Don't you have something more important to do?" you mutter, trying to hide your annoyance. "Like, I don't know, running this whole place?"

Sevika chuckles, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the pantry. "Multitasking, sweetheart. I can keep an eye on you and run this place at the same time."

You roll your eyes, returning to your task. But Sevika doesn't leave. Instead, she picks up a can, tossing it from hand to hand.

"You know," she drawls, "when I brought you in, I thought you might be more... useful. Didn't peg you for the grocery store clerk type."

Her words sting more than you'd like to admit, and it was also enraging - how dare she act like it wasn’t her fault you were assigned here in the first place? 

"We can't all be badass scavengers," you retort, reaching for a high shelf. Before you can grab it, Sevika's arm extends past yours, easily plucking the item you were struggling to reach.

"Here," she says, handing it to you. Your fingers brush as you take it, and you're struck by the calloused warmth of her hand.  You mutter a reluctant thanks, hyper-aware of her proximity. 

From the corner of your eye, you notice Caitlyn watching your interaction intently from across the room. Her gaze flicks between you and Sevika, a mix of curiosity and concern in her eyes.

Sevika notices too. She turns to Caitlyn with a raised eyebrow, the casualness in her voice from earlier gone. "Something on your mind?"

Caitlyn quickly averts her gaze, busying herself with her task. 

As you reach for another box, Sevika beats you to it, effortlessly lifting the heavy container. 

"How do you even have time for this?" you blurt out, frustration and confusion coloring your voice. 

Sevika sets the box down, her eyes meeting yours. "I don’t." 

The moment stretches between you, fraught with tension. Sevika's typical scowl returns, and she turns to leave.  "Try not to burn the place down with your expert can-stacking skills," she throws over her shoulder as she exits.

These encounters with Sevika were becoming more frequent, each one leaving you more uncertain than the last. But the random checkups made sense - you don't trust her, and neither does she.  

The pantry job was a way to keep your group in check but it coincidentally became a test of patience as well. Powder flits in and out, her time increasingly spent with Ekko. While part of you was frustrated by her lack of help, a larger part was glad she actually got to enjoy her childhood.

The breaking point comes during an argument with a burly man demanding extra rations. 

"Sorry, but rules are rules," you say, trying to keep your voice level. "Take it up with Sevika if you have an issue."

His face reddens. "Screw that, I'll go straight to Silco!"

The name hangs in the air, the mysterious leader of Zaun you've yet to meet. You knew Sevika's role as his right hand, but Silco himself remains an enigma, spoken of in hushed tones.

As the man storms off, you lock eyes with Caitlyn. Without a word, you both know - it's time for a change.

You find Grayson at the tennis courts, an incongruous sight that still makes you do a double-take. She's lounging in a weathered lawn chair, a beer in hand, watching a lackluster game between two residents.

The sun beats down on the cracked concrete court, weeds pushing through the fading lines.

Grayson spots you approaching, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes a long swig of her beer. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You can smell the alcohol on her breath as you draw closer, noting the slight flush on her cheeks. Despite her relaxed posture, there's a sharpness to her gaze that tells you she's far from incapacitated.

"We need to talk," you say. "About our roles here."

"What about them?"

Caitlyn steps forward, her posture straight and confident. "I want to join your patrol team."

You nod, adding, "And I want to join Sevika's scavenging group."

Grayson snorts. "If you want to join Sevika's group, why come to me? Why not ask her yourself?"

You feel your cheeks heat up as the memory resurfaces. "I did..."

Sevika stands before you, arms crossed, that infuriating smirk on her face. You've just finished explaining your request to join her team.

She laughs, the sound both mocking and somehow enticing. "If you can beat me in sparring once, sure." Her eyes rake over you. "But we both know that's not happening anytime soon, pantry girl."

"I need you to train me," you tell Grayson, determination in your voice. "Make me a better fighter. All I did was drive and fix wounds, but I know I can do more."

Grayson's eyes narrow. "How do I know I won't be wasting my time helping you two?"

Before you can respond, Caitlyn moves. In a blink, she's drawn Grayson's pistol from its holster and fired at a beer bottle perched on a table at the end of the court, shattering the bottle.

"Because we have the skills to prove it," Caitlyn says coolly, handing the gun back.

For a moment, there's silence. Then Grayson's face splits into a grin. "Alright, I'm convinced." She stands, stretching. "But today's my day off. I'll see you two at the west watchtower tomorrow morning." 

Her expression turns serious. "If you're late, don't bother asking again.  Do we have a deal?"

You and Caitlyn share a look.

“Deal.”

[lessersole]

The Catch - Part Three

Pairing: Thunderbolt!Bucky x Reader, platonic Yelena

Summary: After being rescued by Bucky and Yelena, the three of you need to deal with the aftermath.

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: Panic attack, creepy Rumlow again. No Thunderbolts spoilers - just the characters.

Part two

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

You and Bucky are still entwined, kissing and grasping at each other like you can’t get enough, when there's a rhythmic knock at the door - which you both ignore. It comes again, louder, and you reluctantly pull away a little, Bucky’s lips chasing yours as you mutter, “Should we check that?”

“She can wait,” Bucky growls, pulling you back. Unable to resist, you melt against him until Yelena's voice, only slightly muffled from the outside, calls out, “You better have a really, really good reason for why you're not answering the door right now.”

Bucky sighs and you chuckle guiltily as you peel yourself off him and reach for the door handle. Before you’ve got it even part way open, a bundle of blonde hair and black leather barrels through it, tackling you in a fierce hug.

“You’re okay! You’re definitely okay?” Taking your face in her hands, Yelena examines you carefully.

“I’m okay,” you reassure her, pulling her back into the hug when you notice the tears shining in her eyes. “I’m totally fine, I promise.”

“Okay,” she pouts, not entirely convinced. “I am going to do so much to make this up to you.”

“There’s nothing for you to make up for,” you insist, knowing how bad she’d already felt about getting you mixed up in all the trouble. “This was all the bad guys. And me agreeing to do something stupid, I guess-”

Both Yelena and Bucky noisily protest this, but you keep talking.

“I did! Something felt really off tonight with Brock-” you’re fairly sure you hear Bucky snarl at his name, “I should have trusted my instincts and I didn’t.”

“We’ll deal with him.” Bucky growls darkly, swapping a meaningful look with Yelena.

“But everything,” Yelena shakes you gently to emphasise her words, “Val sending you out as bait, putting you at risk-”

“Was something I agreed to,” you interrupt.

“Because of me!” She nearly wails.

“No, Yelena,” You grip her hands intently, “None of it was your fault. And even if I am slightly more at risk from being your friend, I agreed to that too when I moved in with you - I mean, there had to be some catch to getting you as a roommate and best friend. And I wouldn’t go back or change it for the world. I love you.”

Sniffling slightly, Yelena nods, satisfied for now. “I love you too.”

“I mean, if you want to apologise for something,” you add with a smirk, “you could apologise for interrupting me and Bucky just now.”

“Ew,” Yelena wrinkles her nose in theatrical disgust, then smacks Bucky’s shoulder.

“Ow.” He deadpans.

“It is not okay to take advantage of her like that, she has been through a lot and she just got rescued!”

“Hey, he wasn’t taking advantage of anything, I started it.” You object with a laugh.

“You started it, he started it, whatever, I don’t care,” Yelena turns to you with a stern look, “It is very late, you’ve had a crazy day, and you should go to sleep.”

As if her order reminds your body, your earlier tiredness rushes back to you. “But there’s three of us and only one bed,” you argue quietly as she ushers you towards it.

“Not a problem,” she shrugs, “One bed, one sleeping person, who is you.

“I bet it’s been a long day for you too, both of you-”

“So we’ll take turns.”

“One of us can keep watch.” Bucky joins in. “The rest of the team’s handling the gang at the base and we weren’t followed, but just in case.”

“See? Perfect.” Yelena’s shoved you into the bed at this point and is tightly tucking you in.

“We’ll keep you safe.” Bucky promises softly.

Giving in to your rescuers and your exhaustion, you’re fast asleep the minute you close your eyes.

Once they’re certain you’re sleeping deeply, Bucky and Yelena retreat to the corner of the room.

“What’s the latest?” Bucky asks in a whisper, “They were definitely all trapped in the base?”

“Definitely,” Yelena nods. “The team’s doing a full sweep of the area to make sure, but satellite video shows no one leaving before or after we got there. They’ve got the head - they’re going to put them all away. They’re done, hundred percent.”

“Good. And Rumlow?”

“Not so good news there. He wasn’t at the base, but he left the party before anyone knew to look for him. There’s no sign of him there.”

Bucky clenches his fist.

“Val wants to wait and see if he turns up on Monday.”

“What?”

“Apparently, he might not know his little plan didn’t work.”

“They can’t count on that!”

Yelena shushes Bucky’s rising voice and they both look over at you, watching as you twitch in your sleep.

“They’re checking the gang’s records of his involvement now,” Yelena continues quietly, gritting her teeth with annoyance at Val’s laidback plan. “We will know more tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow might be too late,” Bucky hisses.

“I know. But what else can we do right now?”

He has no answer to that. “Fine. You get some sleep, I’ll take the first watch.”

—

When you wake the next morning, it takes you a while to remember where you are - or why you’re so sore. You open your eyes to Yelena lying next to you, peaceful as she sleeps. Turning over, you see Bucky on a chair, watchful eyes on the sliver of window visible behind the drapes. At the sound of you stirring he turns, a gentle smile lighting his face as he sees you.

“Morning,” he says quietly.

“Morning,” you whisper back, sitting up with a wince.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been worse,” you smile at him, slipping out of bed carefully so as not to wake Yelena. “Have you slept?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t bring pyjamas.”

“Wouldn’t have bothered me.” you tell him teasingly. “What’s the plan for today?”

“We wait for her to wake up,” he nods at your slumbering friend, “then back to the city. We’ve got a de-brief at the Tower.”

A few hours, lots of coffee and a large breakfast later, the three of you are in the main room at the Thunderbolts Watchtower. With nowhere else to go, you’ve joined them for their debrief, and sit quietly while Val shares details of the takedown that continued as you slept. It confirms what they’d already known last night - the criminal organisation has been entirely shut down, every one of them accounted for and in custody - except for Brock Rumlow.

“We’ve hit a little snag with that.” Val underplays, as you sit up straight, fully paying attention.

Yelena and Bucky’s anger is simultaneous and immediate.

“What!?”

“A snag?!”

Val continues. “Turns out there were no records of Brock being involved with the bad guys.”

“Oh come on, there’s no way he wasn’t-”

“What else could he have been doing-”

“One at a time, please,” Val insists, raising her hands. “Or neither at all if you can manage to restrain yourselves.”

“You questioned him, yes?” Yelena asks. “What did he say he was doing?”

“He said he was helping.”

“Helping?” Bucky repeats, incredulous.

“With the plan to find the base. And, well, we can’t argue with the results!” Val’s unperturbed by the sound of cracking knuckles that follows her response.

“The trackers he gave her were all immediately identified and left behind.” Bucky’s eyes briefly alight on you as he fights to keep his voice level. “The only reason we were able to follow her, the only way we even knew she’d been taken, was because she was smart enough to bring an extra that she didn’t tell him about.”

“Which was hidden in a less obvious place,” Val equivocates, “I mean, who wouldn’t leave someone’s phone behind when they’re abducting them? The shoes make it harder for her to run away, the jewellery is the most obvious place to put a microchip-”

“You can’t actually believe Rumlow,” Yelena interrupts.

“Well, I have to. You guys are heroes now, we have to do things the right way. And we have no proof of any wrongdoing!” Val insists.

Bucky pushes out of his chair. “So we get proof.”

“And how do you propose we do that in a legal, above-board way?” Val taunts. “You’re not exactly a plan guy, Bucky, and even Brock’s not stupid enough to leave evidence of criminal collusion lying around in the open.”

The meeting ends pretty soon after that, Val rapidly tiring of the outpouring of acrimony and insisting that the matter is closed.

Bucky and Yelena continue to rant after she leaves, until they notice your silence. The whole thing has exhausted you - you have no idea what you could do about it, and you just want to put it behind you. “I’m safe. We all are. You guys can keep an eye on Brock, or try not to work with him, or both - but there’s nothing any of us can do right now.”

—

Life begins to return to normal. While you look for a new place together in the city, Yelena’s living in the apartment next to you in the Tower - although she stays over at yours almost every night - and you’re going back to work in your office. You go out to meet your friends as normal, always downplaying the weeks you spent in hiding, insisting that your seclusion was an overly cautious reaction to a vague threat against Yelena’s workplace. All fully resolved now, of course.

But you’re still not seeing as much of Bucky as you’d like.

One night, as you’re lying awake in the dark, next to an upside-down Yelena, who’s slowly dropping off to sleep, you bring it up.

“Is Bucky ignoring me?” You blurt out.

“What?” Yelena’s voice is groggy.

“I’ve hardly seen him at all since - since everything, and I thought we’d - well, I thought he’d - I thought he liked me,” you stutter, “Did I cross a line with him? Do something I shouldn’t?”

“How should I know what men think?”

“Yelena!” You press.

She sighs. “You really like him, huh?”

You relive the taste of him on your lips, the feel of his hair between your fingers, his body flush against yours - that soft smile when he looks at you. “Yes.” You admit quietly.

“I think - he’s worried about you.” Yelena explains reluctantly.

“What?” You prop yourself up on your elbows, glaring into the dark. “Why?”

“Because of everything!” You can make out the shadows of Yelena’s arms as she gestures. “You had to hide for weeks, you got double-crossed and captured and abducted-”

“And rescued.” You point out.

“Exactly! Your emotions are all crazy and mixed up right now.” Yelena sits up as well, her voice getting serious. “You’re not like us. This isn’t normal for you. He doesn’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for, that you regret. Or something you feel like you have to do because you ‘owe him one’.”

You can just about see the air quotes around her words. “Have you talked to him about this?”

There’s a moment of silence. “No,” Yelena answers, unconvincingly.

“Yelena!”

“Okay, maybe yes. But only because we both care about you.”

“And I appreciate that, but I’m fine. It’s over!”

“But it is not over for you, I see it.” Yelena’s voice is soft, her words heartfelt. “I see you rushing like a little rabbit every time you leave this room. Because you don’t want to see him.”

You know she’s referring to Rumlow. And you know she’s right, even if you’ve tried to hide it.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t go on a date,” you grumble. “And anyway, all that will be over when we move out.”

“Okay,” Yelena lies back down. “So he can ask you out when we move.”

“Fine.” You flop back against the mattress. “But he definitely likes me?”

“I am sleeping now.”

“I just don’t want to come on too strong, or do something stupid and make an idiot of myself.”

“But you being an idiot is the best part!”

You poke Yelena and she laughs into her pillow. “Don’t worry, he’s crazy about you. Like full cuckoo crazy. If one of you is going to do something stupid, it will probably be him.”

—

It’s not too much longer until you and Yelena find an apartment you’re happy with. With just a few days until you move in, you’re determined to face your fears head on - and make the most of your last access to the free gym in the Tower.

You’re taking a breather halfway through your session, when you notice something in your peripheral and feel a jolt in your chest, like there was a step down where you expected flat ground.

Brock Rumlow calls your name, sauntering over with a slimy grin, “I’ve been wondering when I was going to run into you.”

You're shocked at the panicky rush of shame that floods you. He seems so clearly villainous now, the skeezy way his eyes travel over you in your sweaty workout gear. You spent so much time with him and you never saw it. How could you have believed him? How could you have been so foolish, so stupid, as to trust him with your safety?

Rumlow continues, either not noticing or not caring about your frozen silence. “My brilliant plan to win your freedom works perfectly, and I don’t even get a thank you!”

He’s right in front of you. Every part of you has tightened in defence, your hands a vice grip on your water bottle, your mouth clamped shut, breath constricting, your vision narrowing to a darkness that reminds you of the inside of the trunk of a car, the inside of a black bag. You take a jerky step to the side, instinctively backing away from him.

Rumlow’s expression sours. “You don’t believe those lies about me being in on it? We planned that together! I helped you! I trained you! And now you won’t even workout with me?” He steps towards you with each word, reaching out for your wrist, and you stumble back - and bump into a solid warmth.

Bucky’s voice is rich and clear, leaving no room for argument. “She already has a training partner, Agent.”

Brock stops in his tracks, sneering. “Oh yeah? She was pretty satisfied with me - for weeks - before you showed up.”

Bucky can feel the tension in your body at Rumlow’s allusion, and brushing a hand along your arm, smoothly steps forward, putting himself between you and Brock. “I doubt that. I think you’re done here.”

“Nope,” Rumlow smirks, “I’m just getting started.”

Bucky’s presence grounds you, and you grip the back of his shirt, tugging tightly. “I’m finished anyway.” You mumble, turning to go and dragging him with you. He braces his arm around your back protectively as you leave together.

You’re almost shivering as you make your way back to your apartment, barely feeling the floor beneath your feet.

“Do you want me to get Yelena?” Bucky’s question is gentle as he walks you in.

“No. I don’t want to worry her.” You sit down heavily, letting out a long, shaky breath.

Bucky cautiously pries your water bottle from your hands and goes to pour you a fresh glass.

“I don’t know why I reacted like that.” Your voice is small, and it breaks Bucky’s heart.

“It’s a completely normal response.” He assures you, passing you the water and encouraging you to take a sip. “You’ve been through a lot, and he’s a reminder of that.”

“He’s more than a reminder,” you choke out, setting the glass down before your trembling spills it, “he’s half the cause of it! I wasn’t scared, Bucky. I thought I would be, but…it’s the shame. If I hadn’t been so stupid-”

“No,” Bucky shakes his head vehemently, taking hold of your hands. “Nothing you did was stupid, not even close. You have nothing to be ashamed of. At all. You had every reason to trust him - hell, he’s a vetted agent, he was working with you at the request of the head of the organisation - and you still took precautions. Thinking to bring that extra tracker, hiding it, not telling him about it; that was what saved you. And that was all you. You shouldn't have ever ended up in that situation, but you got yourself out of it.”

“You and Yelena got me out of it. You rescued me.”

“You were the one who made us able to do that.” He insists, quiet but firm. “And we came to find you because we care about you - and that's because of who you are. How much we both like you. So really, that's all you too.”

You give Bucky a watery smile, still not convinced but grateful for his words. He observes you quietly for a moment then, as though reading your mind and seeing exactly what you need, wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, keeping you safe, just like he wanted, and gently strokes your hair, kissing the top of your sweaty head.

“Come on, you should eat something. I make a great post-workout meal.”

“I bet you do.” You tell him with a wonky grin, surreptitiously wiping away the few tears that squeezed past your defenses as he moves to the kitchen area.

The playfully warning look he gives you when he gets your double meaning makes you chuckle weakly - and for now, you’re happy with the plate of eggs he cooks for you.

After some food and a shower, you're doing better. As you think about Bucky’s words, it feels like the hot spray of water pushes your anger away from yourself to a better target. You don't know if there's a post-traumatic equivalent to the five stages of grief, but you seem to have moved rapidly from shame to fury.

Yelena's with Bucky in the living room when you emerge, clean and raging.

“We have to take Rumlow down.”

—

Having a plan has always calmed and focussed you, and with Yelena and Bucky’s support, you’re feeling stronger and more capable than ever. They’ve both noticed this, their shared glances of relief and pride at your recovering wellbeing just a little too quick for you to catch. As long as you can all pull this off, you’re confident you can go back to normal. Maybe even better than normal, now that you've made some new friends.

With Bucky helping, you and Yelena were able to move into your new place within a day, and it didn’t take much longer for the two of you to get settled enough to throw a housewarming party.

You’re setting out the last few snacks as she fiddles with her party playlist when your first guest knocks at the door. Yelena rushes to answer, and a booming Russian-accented voice fills the room. You turn to see the large bearded man you know only from the photos around your shared apartment stride into view, dropping a heavy crate onto your coffee table with thud loud enough to make you worry about your security deposit.

Before you can react, Alexei roars your name, embracing you fiercely. “You are like sister to my Lena, so you are like daughter to me!”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you squeak out.

“Dad, you’re squishing her,” Yelena moans, pushing you apart and pointing to the bottles you can see poking out of the crate. “And what is this?”

“Housewarming gift!” Alexei declares. “Real top shelf quality. Only the best for my girls! We must toast to your new home.”

He picks up the clanking container and moves to the kitchen.

“Wow, that’s a lot of vodka.” You mutter dazedly to Yelena.

She rolls her eyes, not quite hiding the affection she clearly has for her dad, and follows him to the kitchen, where he’s already fondly berating her for not having any stopka glasses.

The next arrivals come immediately after, and you open the door to a bashful man clutching a guinea pig in each hand, and a dark-haired woman with a sardonic smile and multiple packs of beer.

“I think we might be early,” he tells you worriedly before you can greet them, “Ava said for a party late is on time and on time is early, but I didn’t want to be actually late, and I thought we might get lost, and - oh, I’m Bob.”

Bob awkwardly juggles the guinea pigs into one arm so he can shake your hand. You introduce yourself and welcome him in, taking one of the animals from him.

The woman introduces herself as Ava, and is clearly very familiar with Bob’s nervy energy, so calm and cool she seems almost bored.

“What are the guinea pigs for?” You ask in confusion as the three of you join Yelena and Alexei in the living room.

“I told Bob he should bring a housewarming gift,” Ava tells you with a grin.

“They’re adorable,” Yelena coos, gently tickling the one in Bob’s arms.

“I know,” Bob wrinkles his nose fondly at the wriggling creature, “I thought you guys might like a guard dog, but that’s probably not the best pet for an apartment in the middle of the city, and then I remember hearing that pigs are maybe even smarter than dogs, but, well, they’re big too, so I thought - guinea pig! But they get lonely, so I had to get two.”

“They’re perfect, Bob!” Yelena beams at him.

“Did you bring cage for the pigs?” Alexei asks, leaning down to inspect them.

“Oh,” Bob looks at Ava, “I didn’t think-”

“They’re free range guinea pigs.” She announces.

“Then you eat them?” Alexei licks his lips.

“No!” You all shout in horrified unison. Yelena pulls them both towards her, cradling them carefully before looking suspiciously at Ava. “You told Bob to bring a present, what did you bring?”

“My presence is my present.” She announces. “Plus, I'm going to help you decorate.”

Yelena frowns, looking around at the furniture and pictures already filling your apartment. “We did decorate.”

“Did you?” Ava throws an arm over your shoulder, leading you to the couches. “What do you think about throw pillows? I have a lot of opinions.”

You’re chatting soft furnishings with Ava while Yelena and Bob debate names for your guinea pigs while Alexei - after pouring vodka for everyone - answers the door to the next arrival. Brock Rumlow walks into your apartment, each step less confident than the last as his eyes dart between the heroes making up the party.

He’s arrived earlier than the time you texted him, perhaps hoping to corner you alone before things got started, but you and Ava ignore him entirely, so he hovers awkwardly on the edge of the others’ conversation.

Despite successfully tuning him out, your attention is pulled to their side of the room by an anguished cry from Yelena.

“What? I just answer his question.” Alexei protests, pointing at an embarrassed Brock. “I have super serum, I go all night! And all day, and all night again after!”

You don’t think Yelena could look any more horrified. Bob’s just confused, while at your side Ava hoots with laughter.

“What the hell did he ask?” You giggle to her.

Of course, Alexei hears you. “Agent asked about love life of people here.”

Brock starts to protest, but Alexei waves a hand at him dismissively before turning to you with a raised eyebrow. “Ah, and you should know. You are close with Winter Soldier, да? He is so amazing. Whoo, I bet he goes all week!”

The look on Rumlow’s face is more than worth hearing Alexei’s boasts, although you doubt his daughter feels the same - Yelena looks like she’s dying.

“Mr Soldier is good man.” Alexei nods, draining his drink and gesturing widely. “I approve of him as future honorary son-in-law!”

Yelena almost runs out of the room when there’s another knock at the door, returning with John Walker.

“Happy Housewarming!” He calls, entirely oblivious to the conversation he’s just walked into. He approaches you to introduce himself and presents his gift - a bottle of American-made whiskey that, like him, isn’t quite as good as he thinks it is.

You leave him with Ava and go to put the bottle in the kitchen next to Alexei’s vodka. Rumlow immediately follows.

“Why are none of your friends here?” he asks, finally realising maybe he should be worried.

“These are my friends,” you answer with a tight smile.

“You know what I mean.” He hisses.

 You shrug nonchalantly. “The apartment’s too small for everyone at once, so tonight is just Yelena's friends.”

“No Barnes though.”

“He's busy. And anyway, he's already seen it.” You flash Brock a knowing smile as you return to the party.

—

It’s true that Bucky’s busy - visiting Rumlow’s empty home to carry out his part of the plan. When he arrives at your apartment an hour later and shoots you a quick wink, you know he’s succeeded.

The rest of the Thunderbolts greet him all the more enthusiastically a few drinks in, but Brock tenses up, clearly not happy to be joined by the super-soldier, who pulls up a chair right next to him.

After being left out of yet another round of Alexei’s drinks, Rumlow finally gets the hint and sighs, standing up to leave.

“Well, I’ll see most of you Monday. And hey,” he nods at you, licking his lips as he does, “don’t be a stranger, yeah? The Tower’ll be a lot less hot without you around it.”

Before you’re obliged to answer, Bucky slams Brock’s arm harder than necessary with his vibranium one. “Hey buddy, I think you dropped this.” He holds out a thumb drive that he appears to have picked up off the floor.

Recognition startles across Rumlow’s face for a moment before he backs away. “Uh, no man, that’s not mine.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky asks, his voice mock-polite and deadly smooth, “It fell right out of your pocket.”

Brock pales in panic as he realises what’s happening, why this evening has felt so off to him. “No, no, I’m sure-”

“It did,” Yelena chips in. “It fell out of your pocket, I saw it.”

“We all saw it.” Ava adds with a smirk.

Alexei and Bob chime in with their agreements, drowning out John’s quiet, confused, “Huh?”

Brock’s eyes swivel rapidly around the room as he tries to find a way out of this. “Okay, I should-” he grabs the drive but Bucky holds on, smile widening.

“You know, a lot of these encrypted drives have suspicious stuff on them. I’m sure you know you shouldn’t be using one of these, not as a respectable, law-abiding Thunderbolt support agent.”

“It’s not illegal to own one of these!” Rumlow reddens with impotent anger.

“Oh, so you confirm it is yours.” Yelena moves to Brock’s other side, penning him in. “We should probably check there’s nothing suspicious on there.”

“Good idea.” Bucky nods like they’ve just thought of it.

“This is crazy!” Rumlow shouts, starting to sweat. “It’s just a storage device, there’s nothing suspicious on it!”

“Then you won’t mind unlocking it for us.” Ava adds, phasing into thin air behind him.

“It - I can’t-”

“Dude, if it’s yours, your fingerprint will unlock it.” Bob points out, positioning himself in front of Brock, Alexei joining him. “Couldn’t be easier.”

“Idiot-proof.” The Russian growls over Bob’s shoulder.

“What’s going on?” John is still seated, looking baffled at his teammates circling Rumlow.

“No way,” Brock growls, letting go of the drive and shouldering his way out of the group. Before he can take a second step, Bucky’s left arm shoots out and grabs him by the collar, lifting him clean off the floor.

“Then I guess we’ll have to unlock it and search through the contents for you.” He tosses the thumb drive to Yelena.

“No!” Brock gurgles.

“Yes!” Yelena answers with a smile.

“Wait, is this a fake housewarming?” John’s question is drowned out by Brock’s shouted objections.

“You can’t do that!” He chokes out, scrabbling ineffectually at Bucky’s hand.

“We can.” Alexei tells him solemnly. “Modern technology is really amazing.”

“Don’t you need one of those special devices to break into an encrypted drive?” Walker pipes up, not wanting to be left out now he gets what’s happening.

“Yeah, you do,” Bucky ignores Rumlow’s squirming as he dangles in his vibranium grasp, and reaches for a gift bag with his other arm, that he holds out to you with a smile. “Good thing I brought a housewarming gift.”

—

The Thunderbolts handily detained Brock until he could be arrested, enjoying the task perhaps a bit more than they should have. As Bucky had confirmed earlier, the thumb drive he’d taken from Rumlow’s place contained a digital wallet with multiple cryptocurrency payments connecting him to the criminal gang they’d dismantled. You could tell just from her voice on the other end of the line that Val had strong suspicions about exactly how things had gone down, but she didn’t contest their version of events - and she couldn’t argue with the evidence.

The rest of the night turned into a celebration of Rumlow getting his comeuppance as well as of your new home. You couldn’t wait to start living your life there with Yelena, which you told her repeatedly as you embraced and thanked her. Later, while everyone else was occupied arguing about whether or not to try racing your new guinea pigs, you pulled Bucky aside for a quiet moment.

“I think I need to thank you again,” you tell him with a sly smile as you close your bedroom door behind you.

“Or maybe I should be thanking you,” he corrects, mirroring your look as he steps closer, “I think I enjoyed seeing Rumlow dragged off even more than you did.”

Your sassy reply dies in your throat as Bucky runs his lips along your jaw, short-circuiting your mind.

“Well, I think- we both- are grateful,” you gasp incoherently, eliciting a deep chuckle in response.

“I can agree with that,” he murmurs, breathing you in as his teeth nip at your skin.

“Bucky,” you moan desperately and grab his shirt, pulling his mouth to yours.

You pour every ounce of your emotions into the kiss - all your relief, all your longing, all your desire. You let yourself fully give in to that electrifying pull, the delicious comfort and heady exhilaration of him.

Bucky’s arms hold you tight, pulling you as close as possible while you’re both still clothed. The soft care for you that thunders in his heart blends with the hot pulse of need, his lips devouring you as he tugs you to him so strongly you feel your feet leave the ground. Acting on instinct, on want, you lift your legs to wrap around him, the core of you pressing against his hardness. With a groan you feel in every inch of you, Bucky runs his hands down your back, over the curve of your ass to grip the back of your thighs, pressing you into the door with a desperate need that you fully match as you lock your feet behind him, hands tangling in his hair.

Your amorous clinch only ends when the voices in the rest of the apartment get louder.

“You can’t have sex when we’re in the middle of the party!” Yelena yells from the living room.

“Yes, they can, go for it my friends, celebrate with your bodies!” The rest of Alexei’s shouted encouragement is drowned out by groans and laughter from the rest of the group.

Bucky rests his forehead against yours, eyes crinkling in a smile, lips swollen from you.

“I guess we should get back to them.” You admit reluctantly.

“I guess we should,” he agrees, pulling back from you like it’s taking all of his super-strength to do so. “But we have plenty of time to pick this up again. After I take you out on a proper date.”

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

Tags: @yesshewrites1 @lcolumbia1988 @vxllys @starfly-nicole @luvr-bunnyy @greatenthusiasttidalwave @oneofstarkskids @ye-olde-trash-panda @rockyeatrock @raelikesdinosaurs @freyathehuntress @whitewolfluvr @xoxabs88xox @starstruck-cowgirl @calwitch @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes

[gummiesaretough]

I’ll Bark and Bite

Dark era dazai and chuuya x reader

Yokohama's underbelly stank of sweat, gunpowder, and betrayal.

You'd just killed a man in broad daylight.

Well—technically speaking, he wasn't really a man. More like a rabid dog with an identity. One of the gang that used to "own" you. Sold you, conditioned you like a weapon, then cast you aside when they believed they'd broken you.

Big mistake.

The street behind you was a battleground of bodies, and the sole one living was you. One bullet in your shoulder, bruises breaking beneath your skin like pus, blood clotted on your jaw. But you were standing. Again.

You breathed and glanced at the clip in your gun. Almost gone.

"Should have stocked up," you muttered. "Shit."

You stepped to move away.

And someone was there.

Not just a man—but him. You didn't know his name yet. You only saw a smaller-than-you imagined man dressed like a hellborn mob boss. Red hair. Gloved hands. Funeral director hat like a damn thing.

He was standing over the dead corpses like he didn't care.

"Got a permit to kill on our turf ?" he asked smoothly.

You blinked. "Your what?"

He stepped in close, and you could feel the atmosphere shift—like gravity was heavier around him.

"This is Port Mafia territory. That crew you just murdered? Dumb enough to step over a line. You?" He tilted his head. "Dumber for not knowing you were in the middle of a war zone."

Your mouth went dry. Port Mafia?

You knew that much. Everyone did. You didn't want to be here. Not anymore.

"I'll leave," you growled, shoving your gun back into your waistband. "Didn't know. Wasn't seeking trouble."

He laughed harshly. "Oh, you found it."

You glared and tried to shove past him.

A blur.

A fucking blur.

The next thing you knew you were being pushed against the brick wall of the alley, his arm around your throat. You struggled him—he didn't flinch. He was muscular, as if his bones were rock.

"I'm going to leave," you growled, picking up your gun again.

"Go on," he replied in a dead voice. "I'd like you to."

And another voice came back at us down the alley.

"Easy, Chuuya. Don't hurt her until we get to the paperwork."

You both turned around.

A man stood against the fire escape, tan bandages, trench coat behind him blowing back like he pictured himself in a noir film. His eyes were half-lidded, in a warm smile. Dazai.

"Look who finally crawled out of whatever sewer he sleeps in," Chuuya growled. "Don't you have a bridge to jump off?"

Dazai gave a tough smile. "Still compensating for being five foot nothing, I see."

Chuuya's eyes flashed.

You were stuck between a wall and a mafia executive about to lose his temper, and even you winced.

"Say it again, asshole."

"I would, but I don't speak small dog."

"I'll kill you."

You coughed, still wheezing. "Uh, hello? Dying here."

Chuuya released you with a growl, taking a step back as if you weren't even worth the trouble. "She's cocky."

"She killed six men with great shot placement," Dazai replied, now kneeling to examine one of the bodies. "All center mass. No hesitation. That's not cocky. That's trained."

You rubbed your sore throat and scowled. "I'm not trained. I was owned.".

Both of them looked at you now. Dazai's smile faltered. Chuuya's face contorted into something unreadable.

You spat on the ground. "They bought me. Broke me. Fed me bullets and threats until I started shooting for them."

Chuuya rolled one of his cigarettes. "And now you're trying to kill yourself out?"

"No. Already did it."

You started walking again, stepping over a corpse. "I don't want your gang. I don't want anyone. I just want the rest of them dead. Then I'll vanish."

Dazai was in your way this time. "Doesn't work that way."

You glared at him. "Why? Gonna shoot me for trespassing?"

"No," he said. "We're gonna make you an offer."

You tensed up.

Chuuya's voice deadpanned. "Join the Port Mafia. Or become part of the pavement."

".Seriously?"

Dazai shrugged. "You can go. Sure. Just not breathing."

You slowly grasped your gun again.

Chuuya stood stock still. "Draw it, and I'll break every bone in your arm."

You paused. Then slowly put it away.

"I don't bow to anyone," you said.

Chuuya moved forward, cigarette orange in the dim light. "Good. We don't want dogs. We want monsters."

You seethed at them both, anger roiling behind your ribs.

"…What do you want me to do?"

Dazai grinned again, all jagged edges. "Trial run. One night. One job. You survive, you stay."

"And if I just leave now?"

Chuuya dropped his cigarette, crushed it.

"You won't."

⸻

Twelve Hours Later – Port Mafia Trial Grounds

You were issued a new gun. Sleek. Heavy. The clip was full. You fired once.

Clean.

Chuuya stood in front of you, arms folded, trench coat blowing in the wind like a damn movie poster.

"These guys?" he said, nodding toward the warehouse across the lot. "The same gang sold you out to. They never learned. Camped out on our turf."

You blinked. "Wait. These fucks?"

He grinned. "Consider this a present."

"Fuck," you gasped. "You should've begun with that."

You didn't request permission. You ran.

The warehouse had been lit dimly—perfect. You took out the first sentry with a silencer to the jaw. Then two more inside. Quick, clean.

Then it all went crazy.

Shouting. Gunfire. You crouched behind a crate and fired back—quick, brutal, pitiless. You hadn't killed out of necessity. You killed to show.

When you came out, your hands shaking and spots of blood showing on the sleeves of your jacket, you'd got twelve kills.

Chuuya was waiting.

"So?" he asked.

You dropped the unloaded gun at his feet. "When do I get paid?"

He smiled.

Dazai, appearing out of nowhere beside him, chuckled quietly. "Told you. She's fun."

You gave him the finger.

Chuuya shoved something into your palm.

A black ring.

"Welcome to the Port Mafia."

You stared at it. Then set it on your finger in silence.

You didn't grin. You didn't say thank you.

You just stood a little taller.

And for the first time in your life…

You belonged.

(Cooked this up when coming home from school, call me Shakespeare) also repost because I didn’t proofread!

[dollyzdaydreamz]

Arthur Morgan x Reader (fluff)

A Sip of Mayhem

Description: Arthur captures a bounty who'd drug his customers by offering them “juice” just to rob them blind. He confiscated a bottle to show the sheriff, but forgot it in his satchel, deciding to deal with it the next day. That night, when he witnesses your stumbling figure practically catcall him from across camp and found the bottle on his desk, empty, he faces a lot of trouble getting you to settle down. ⚠️Warnings: reader is basically drunk, tries to jump into a stream, mentions of religious upbringing, being orphaned. this aint dark, just stupid and funny `(*>﹏<*)′

The small jeweled bottle of strange liquid sat on Arthurs desk, glowing softly under the moonlight. He’d meant to take it to the sheriff first thing in the morning after catching a bounty–a man who’d drug his customers and rob them blind, but after the long ride back to camp, his legs had screamed at him to sit down for a while, and he’d forgotten all about it.

Now, with the party in full swing celebrating Sean’s return to Horseshoe overlook, the bottle was the last thing on his mind. Laughter and the sound of a badly played fiddle filled the air as Sean drunkenly exaggerated some story during his time as a captive, waving a bottle of whiskey around like it was a prop in a stage play.

Arthur wasn’t much for parties, so he sat back in his chair, rolling a cigarette and letting the chaos unfold. He was half expecting you to join him, usually not one to enjoy loud gatherings or drinking yourself. He remembered you told him that your folks were real religious-like prior to their passing, before you had stumbled upon the gang of outlaws as a child. He enjoyed those quiet talks with you. He chuckled a little, outlawing was one thing, but drinking was where you crossed the line. That was until he heard your voice cut through the camp, slurred and way too loud.

“Well! aren’tchu a fiiine cowboy,” you practically purred from across camp.

Arthur’s head snapped up.

You stood there, dressed in your casual attire, a comfortable blouse and a long skirt. But you were unusually swaying like the wind was about to knock you over, a loopy grin plastered on your face. Your normally calm nature was nowhere to be found, gone, vanished, replaced by whatever nonsense had taken hold of you. 

You pointed at him dramatically, eyes nearly crossing,

“Arthur Morgannn,” you drawled, dragging out his name like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “You got nice-“ you hiccuped, clutching your chest for a moment, “nice hands, made for holdin’ a lady, you know that?” You slurred as you stumbled toward him. 

Arthur’s cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth as his face reddened under the brim of his hat. “What the hell-”

Dutch, who had been dancing nearby with Molly, chuckled, “Now that ain’t normal.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. It was then he noticed you hiccup again, looking oddly glassy-eyed. It didn’t take a genius to realize something was wrong. Then, like a switch flipping in his brain, he remembered.

The bottle.

It was on his desk, but opened, empty.

“Aw, hell,” Arthur groaned. He shot up from his chair and started toward you. “You didn’t—tell me you didn’t drink somethin’ off my desk.”

You hiccuped again and winced like he’d just accused you of murder, “Well..I did!” 

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and you spoke again, “it was a pretty lookin juice, Arthur! You’ gonna tell me juice is a crime now?-“

“Oh it weren’t no juice, woman!” Arthur snapped. 

“Well, what was in it?” Hosea, who had heard the ordeal nearby, appeared at his side, eyeing you with a suspicious yet concerned look. 

“It was a drug from a bounty! One I meant to turn into the sheriffs…” he trailed off, feeling foolish for the slip up.  

Hosea let out a long-suffering sigh beside him. “Great. She can’t even handle a cup of coffee without buzzing, what the hell’s a spiked drink gonna do to her?” 

“I don’t know,” Arthur muttered, reaching for you, but you took a dramatic step back, swaying. 

“Noooo, no, no,” you wagged your finger at him, “I don’t need your help.”

Arthur groaned before holding you by the shoulders and looking into your dilated pupils “Now, darlin’,” 

“Yeah?” Your gaze drifts here and there, seeing the world bend him in a funny way, before his finger snaps in front of you,

“You’re drunk off your ass, so you gotta let me and Hosea sit you down and-”

“Drunk?!” You gasped again, stumbling back from his hold. “I am not!”

You absolutely were.

“I do not-I don’t drink!”  You shout.

Then, before they could grab you, you turned tail and bolted.

Your brain was working at half-speed. Or maybe it was working at double speed. Who knew? Who cared?

All you knew was that Arthur was chasing you, and that was hilarious.

“You ain’t gonna catch me!” you whooped, dodging around the campfire, startling Uncle so bad he nearly fell off his log, 

“The hell’s wrong with you?” you heard the old man yelp, “knockin me round knowin’ i got lumbago-”

Arthur swore behind you. “Damn it— get back here girl!”

You tire out eventually, surrendering for a bit, “Fine! Fine I’ll sit down” you gasp catching your breath. 

“You better,” Arthur warned.

You plop down near Sean and Karen, looking back at Arthur who stands there half expecting you to bolt off again. 

Sean was running his mouth about something-something dramatic, no doubt. His accent was thick, his hands flying everywhere, and for some reason, that was hilarious too!

You scoot closer beside him,

“Ah, yes,” you said in a mock Irish accent, your voice dropping to a ridiculous brogue, “and then I took on ten men at once with only me fists and me Macguire bullocks!”

Sean blinked at you. “What the-”

“And I won the day for you lady!” you continued, grinning, wagging a finger in Karen’s face.

Sean’s face scrunched up. “Are you mockin’ me, lass?”

You gasped, “Mocking? I’d never!”

Sean turned to Karen, who was already laughing so hard she had to clutch her stomach. “Is that what I sound like?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Exactly,” she wheezed.

Arthur called out for you, but you were already on the move again, stumbling toward where Abigail, Tilly, and Mary-beth sat at a bed roll a few feet away.

You plopped yourself down between Mary-Beth and Tilly, sighing deeply, 

“Ladies,” you slurred, looking utterly exhausted.

They turned to you, amused.

Abigail chuckled seeing the obvious drunken flush in your face. “Well, if it ain’t our resident good girl. Thought you didn’t drink?”

“I don’t,” you huffed. “I was tricked. Hoodwinked.” You sighed dramatically, placing a hand on Mary-Beth’s knee before laying down entirely and resting your buzzing head in her lap.

“And now there’s some…admittedly, handsome fella, chasin’ me!” You whine with furrowed brows, stuffing your face into Mary-Beth’s torso.

Mary-Beth gasped, playing along. “Handsome fella? Who?”

You picked your head up a little too quickly, feeling the world spin a little. 

You looked around wildly, seeing Arthur linger a few feet away before whispering “Arthur.” 

The women exchanged a look before breaking into exaggerated gasps.

“No!” Tilly gasped, “that ruthless outlaw out to get you?” 

You nodded solemnly, “Yes ma'am.”

Abigail shot a look over your shoulder, and you turned, following her gaze, right to Arthur, who still stood with his arms crossed, rolling his eyes but, notably, fighting back a blush.

You pointed at him. “See? There he is.”

Mary Beth leaned in conspiratorially. “What’s he gonna do when he catches you?”

You considered it for a moment before your gaze caught the pistol tucked into Arthurs holster. Gasping, you felt a wave of fear overcome you, “Probably shoot me!”

“I wish,” Arthur scoffed, before leaning down to your level “Alright, time to go.”

He grabbed your arm gently, but you yelped and recoiled, flinging yourself back into Mary-Beth’s arms, hiding your face as if the boogie man was right there in front of you

 “See? He’s grabbin’ me!”

Arthur sighed, ripping you away from the girls and holding you up, “Pardon me ladies, just-gotta get this one to rest.”

But you were already wriggling out of his grasp. 

Nope. No way. You weren’t about to let him take you away like some unruly sack of potatoes. 

You were free. You were fast. You were-

“Gonna jump in a river!” you declared proudly, running full speed away from the camp and toward the small stream near camp.

“The hell you are!” Arthur hollered running after you, grabbing the attention of John who was keeping watch of camp. 

“The hell's wrong with her?” He asked Arthur, gesturing to you running off. 

“Long story,” Arthur groaned, before motioning John to help him out. 

You giggled maniacally as you turned back to see two fuzzy figures chase after you, ���Try ‘n’ stop me you demons!”

“How the hell is she faster drunk?” John yelled through a strained breath.  

“I don’t know,” Arthur replied, darting through the foliage leading up to the river.  

Finally you reached it, a stream but it wasn’t just any stream, it was a darker blue with speckled stars and clouds stirring and swirling below it.

A perfect portal to jump through and explore, maybe it was the gates to heaven itself! 

You giggled, 

Who would’ve thought paradise was out here in the middle of nowhere? Were your parents there? 

You wondered if they were looking at a similar stream from the other side, waiting for you. 

Maybe they’d lecture you for accidentally drinking…and robbing…and killing…and stealing.

Well, there’s only one way to find out-

Right before you could fling yourself into the water, a pair of firm arms caught you from behind. The world really did turn upside down as Arthur lifted you right off your feet and tossed you over a shoulder.

“Agh! Put me down!” You flail wildly.

“This is for your own good” Arthur drawled, adjusting you like you weighed nothing.

John scoffed, flicking your forehead as he trailed behind, “Now who gave you a drink?” he asked incredulously. 

“Arthur.” 

The two escorted you back toward camp, your limbs flailing the whole way, mouth conjuring up the most unique insults directed at the two as you could. 

When you tried to grab John’s rifle, he leaned away quickly, “You better watch your drunk self.” 

“I ain’t drunk,” you insisted. “I’m just—” 

A hiccup cut you off and Arthur finally set you down. You staggered violently, grasping onto Arthur’s vest as John held out his hands in case you fell. 

Hosea met the three of you, arms crossed, looking more amused than anything. 

“Well?” he asked.

Arthur scoffed, motioning to you, “Crazy girl was about to drown herself.”

Hosea smirked. “So, what’s the plan? Tie her up like a runaway calf?”

“I ain’t a calf!” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Nah. Just gotta wait it out, get her to bed I guess.”

Hosea nodded and John huffed,

 “Good luck with that.” 

“Now,” Arthur turned to you and shook his head with a smirk, “don’t go drinking any more of my…” 

He paused, not wanting you to go off on a rampage about not having drunk alcohol, “Juice no’ more, you hear me woman?” 

You sulk a little and mutter, “Fine.” 

“Good, you don’t need any more of that,” John rolled his eyes as he walked off, “already a damn smart mouth when you’re sober.” 

“Come on now y/n, let’s get some rest, alright?” Hosea said, gently guiding you. 

“So, the ‘handsome cowboy’ did save her?” Dutch chuckled from where he stood outside his tent, smoking a cigar as he watched Hosea coax you into your tent. 

Arthur rolled his eyes, but as he turned away, he flushed a little as he recalled your drunk flirting. 

As much as he hated to admit it, he was amused by your flirtatious slip ups. 

But then his mind went back to you almost lunging into the stream.  

He is never going bounty hunting again.

[grey-coyote]

Not Flirting - Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

Summary: You’ve been running with the Van Der Linde gang for a couple of months now and a certain cowboy has caught your attention, but you’re not convinced that you’ve caught his. Everyone else at camp seems to see it though.

Warnings: Fluff, flirting, horses, awkward reader and Arthur, supportive best friends, Sean being loud, abrupt ending, author may write a part two

Word Count: 1853

A/N: I’ve been so busy lately, I wrote this and proofread only once, so I’m sorry for any mistakes! Another RDR2 post, this time for Arthur! I hope this is ok! <3333

—————

"Thank you, Miss Grimshaw!" You called out to the older lady, who only dismissed you with a wave of her hand, as you stood from where you were working. You walked over to where Uncle usually sat against a wagon, not expecting him to be anywhere else, and immediately spot him on the ground with his hat over his eyes. You cleared your throat to announce your presence and he lifted the hat, grabbing the shirt you held from your hand. "Thank you, Y/N! You know, that's my favorite shirt! Thanks for patching it up for me!"

"Of course." You nodded with a polite smile, knowing that if it was up to you, you'd have made him patch the hole in the fabric himself. Quickly turning around, you head over to the horses and patted a few of them before grabbing your own, praising her as you threw a rope around her neck.

You had joined the Van Der Linde gang a few weeks before they had arrived at Colter and you had quickly became friendly with most of the members, mainly the ladies you worked with. Occasionally, when you had a break between chores and you had enough time, you'd sneak off for a short ride. You loved to take your horse out for some alone time, enjoying the nice break without having to worry about your work or Grimshaw yelling at you about something.

As you cinched the saddle, Mary-Beth noticed you. "Does Grimshaw know?" She asked from behind you and you quickly looked back at her with a smile on your face. "Mhm. I wish you could come along." Both of you looked down at the bucket of water in her arms and she jokingly rolled her eyes, "I'm just convinced that you're her favorite." You finished tightening the saddle and moved up to untie your horse. "That's usually how it goes." You playfully shrugged, "Well, I'm off to enjoy my alone time. Have fun cleaning dirty laundry."

Mary-Beth teasingly cut her eyes at you as you glanced back at her while you laughed. "Stay safe!" She said with a smile as she turned to continue her chores.

After mounting your horse, you began your ride. The gang had just arrived at Horseshoe Overlook and you were excited to explore some of the area on your own. You had rode into Valentine with Arthur, Uncle, and the girls, but it was more of an overall bad memory than a good one for most of the people involved. It was a bad memory for the ladies because of some trouble they got into in town. It was a bad memory for you because as you were getting out of the wagon in town, you tripped and fell right onto your hands and knees in some mud. Right in front of Arthur.

The ladies at camp had first asked you if you had a crush on Arthur back in Colter. You had attempted to brush them off, denying any accusations that they made, but they saw right through you. Of course you had a crush on Arthur. He was very kind, never hesitating to help you out when you needed something and always being a very respectful man. The girls would occasionally mention that they thought Arthur had taken a liking to you too but you would always hush them before they could even finish their sentence, claiming that it was just nonsense. Arthur was a busy man, a dangerous outlaw, the right hand man of Dutch Van Der Linde. He was Arthur Morgan. You knew that he had no time for someone like you.

Soon after you got to Horseshoe Overlook, some of the other members asked you how you felt about Arthur. Javier had noticed a flirty interaction between the two of you. Curiosity took over him and later that evening he found you, "Hey, Y/N. Just wondering, is there something going on between you and Arthur?" You shook your head frantically, telling him no, and Javier just chuckled. "Okay." He responded, not sounding convinced at all.

Arthur was usually gone from camp during the day, away doing all sorts of things. You noticed that Dutch seemed to use him for work more than any of the other men. You didn't really mind it though, you worked better when Arthur wasn't around. On the rare occasion that Arthur was at camp while you were working, you'd be so distracted by just the sight of him that your chores would pile up and Grimshaw would call you out on it, flustering you even more.

You lost track of time as you rode around the plains of New Hanover. You weren't paying attention to much of anything until you saw Arthur on the road not far from you. He was on his Tennessee Walker and heading your direction, most likely returning to camp for lunch. As he got closer, you couldn't help but admire him. He had his black hat on his head and his brown hair was slightly messy, poking out from under his hat. You had noticed that it grown a little longer since the gang got back from Colter, you had even wondered if he'd let you trim it for him once it grew out a bit more. Soon, you met in the middle of the dirt road and stopped your horses.

"Hey there, Y/N." Arthur moved a hand to rest across the saddle horn, "You find enough time to sneak away again?"

You smiled as you nodded, "Thankfully," you looked in the direction of camp, "You headin' back to camp?" Arthur looked toward camp and then back at you, nodding his head. "Yeah, a bowl of Pearsons stew for lunch would be better than nothin', I guess."

You couldn't help but grimace. "Yeah..."

There was a short silence between the both of you, you didn't want to end your ride just yet but you also didn't want to pass up an opportunity to ride back to camp with Arthur. You suddenly had an idea and spoke before you even realized it. "Wanna race back to camp?"

Arthur laughed as he looked down at his horse, you watched as his head dipped and his hat covered his eyes slightly. "No, we've done enough runnin' around for today."

"I guess you're just too worried about losin'." You teased. Leaning forward, you urged your horse into a walk and turned, slowly starting down the road. It was then that you suddenly saw Arthurs horse dart past you, already moving in a fast canter. You grinned as you lifted your reins and wrapped your legs around your horse, quickly speeding up. As you galloped down the short stretch of main road, you attempted to get your horse to catch up until Arthur quickly turned down one of the many paths leading to Horseshoe Overlook. You finally turned the corner and saw Arthur already slowing down at the hitching rails.

Slowing your horse, you looked down as you patted her neck and praised her. Arthur dismounted and turned to praise his own horse. Bringing a hand up to pet his horses face, he turned his head toward you, "You said I was too worried about what?" He asked playfully.

You dismounted your horse and tied her to the hitching rail before moving to loosen her saddle. "She's got shorter legs, it wasn't a fair race!" You laughed while you gestured to your horses legs. Arthur smiled, "No, it was plenty fair." You shook your head, "Nope."

The two of you were too busy bantering to notice the small audience you had attracted. Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen were sitting nearby and listening to your conversation. "That is definitely flirtin'." Karen observed, speaking just low enough to make sure that you and Arthur couldn't hear her. Tilly and Mary-Beth nodded in agreement. "Do you think either of them even realize it?" Mary-Beth asked and Tilly just sighed, "Probably not."

They watched as Arthur stood with you, still talking about the horses and your short race until your horse was untacked and put back to eat some hay. Mary-Beth hummed, "I don't believe I've ever seen Arthur look so happy." The other ladies agreed as they saw you and Arthur walk over to the stew pot together and each dip a bowl before sitting at the table together, proceeding to eat across from each other.

A few minutes had passed and Sean walked up to the table. The ladies noticed and groaned as they watched. Karen soon turned away, refusing to even look in that direction.

You and Arthur turned your heads to look up at Sean and the ladies listened as Sean loudly commented on the both of you. "You've got to be kiddin' me. You ride up here together and come sit here together to eat lunch but still refuse to admit your feelings to one another?"

Both you and Arthur were in shock. You noticed Arthurs cheeks turned a bright pink but you ignored it, instead turning your full attention to Sean, "Can you please go bother someone else?" Arthur cut his eyes at Sean, "I jus' helped save you and this is how you act? You think I won't turn you back in myself?"

Sean raised his hands in defense, "I'm just sayin' what we're all thinkin'!" You and Arthur just looked at him and shook your heads. You then looked down at the empty bowl on the table in front of you, silently thankful that you had a reason to leave the uncomfortable situation, and got up from your seat. "Excuse me."

Arthur remained sitting, his eyes moving from Sean to you as he watched you walk to put the bowl away and then move on to go back your work. Sean was silent before he was called away, wasting no time in leaving from the table.

Being the only one left at the table, Arthur sighed as he stood up and attempted to just resume where he left off with his work.

The ladies who watched the whole situation unfold kept their eyes on you as you walked over to them.  You noticed the looks on their faces and sighed, "Don't say anything."

"Weren't going to." Karen responded, lying straight through her teeth. Tilly and Mary-Beth sat silently and watched as you grabbed a cloth and prepared to clean some dirty dishes.

They each waited, expecting you to say something, but after a moment of silence, they all slowly parted ways to resume their own chores.

You looked up from the dish you were beginning to scrub for just a moment and saw Arthur mounting his horse to leave camp again. You watched as he leaned over the horn to pat the horses neck and then sat back up, looking over at you. You made eye contact before you quickly looked back down at the dish in your hand and continued scrubbing.

Arthur sighed as he looked back ahead of him, urging his horse into a walk and leaving camp.

[bitin-and-barkin]

Keeping him in line

Warnings: Gunfucking, facefucking, shoe humping, sub Dutch, he's like super pathetic honestly, humiliation (Dutch Receiving), degradation, gender neutral reader, dom reader, the reader is SO fucking mean, Dutch deserves it tho, masochism, pain kink, anal, smut, all consensual dw, I like to think this could've stopped the downfall of the gang

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

Thinking about being an "old friend" of Dutch.

Used to go out robbing with him back in the day, until some crap went down. He thought you died, and you thought the same for him. But after the blackwater incident, a long overdue meeting happens when you both try to rob the same train.

Thinking about him "Inviting" (practically begging) you to join him, even though you both know you're doing damn well on your own.

Thinking about once you graciously agree, he's consulting you for every little thing, saying something along the lines of "let me consult the missus/mister" before he plans any jobs, finally taking SOMEONE'S advice other than his own. Treating you like Hosea, like himself. A higher up, a leader, despite you having never set foot in this gang in over 10, 15, years.

Thinking about him insisting that you don't have to do any of the "dirty work" if you don't feel like it. Barking orders at others to "take care of it" while dragging you back to his tent for no reason at all, other than to just smoke and drink and chat about everything and nothing.

Thinking about others being weirded out and slightly jealous of all the praise and approval you get from him, with even Molly questioning if he's sweet on you. Everyone is thinking it, that maybe he had something going on with you in the past. But, even when he was with Annabelle? He had never treated her this kindly.

Thinking about him catching glances at your fingers while you handle your gun, the way you draw it and shoot in the blink of an eye. Watching your hands move as you play poker at camp, making everybody else at the table go broke.

Thinking about him watching the way your chest heaves in and out after a gunfight. Watching the way your silver tongue talks them into money and out of trouble, even better than he or Hosea can.

Thinking about him stating he needs to "take a break" with Molly due to him "needing some time alone" while she watches him talk to you the same way he used to chat with her, but with actual longing in his eyes.

Thinking about you talking to him, almost down to him, with a certain smug look on your face as he looks at you with a certain devotion on his. You calling out the flaws in his ideas and plans, doubting him, doing things that would get anybody else labeled as a traitor. But not you. Anybody but you. As when you do it? All he can do is sit there and take it.

Thinking about you pushing him down by the chest where he sits anytime he does something or says something that you don't like. Knocking his drink out of his hand in front of everybody when he gets too out of line.

Thinking about punishing him for his behavior at night, taking long drags of his cigar and putting it out on his arm as you grip his hair and shove his face into his bed as you fuck him into the sheets.

Thinking about you leaving bruises on his neck after you choke him too hard for being too mean to one of his boys or after one of his infamous plans fuck up once again.

Thinking about making him rut up against your boot as you face fuck him, saying he isn't deserving of even touching you, and if he wants release he has to work for it himself. Stating that your shoes better be shining when he's done down there as he rubs his dick against your spurs, desperate for friction.

Thinking of you fucking him with his own gun after he begs you for more, with you degrading him for getting a hard on. Asking him what the Pinkertons, what his gang, would think if they learned that Dutch Van Der Linde himself is no more than a common whore. One barely good enough to fuck. Saying that maybe you should turn him in, that way you can use the money to buy a whore that actually does what they're told.

Thinking about him crying into your lap as he begs for release, and all you do is laugh at him and shove him off, leaving him alone and aching after you climax and he doesn't. Knowing that he needs this punishment to keep him in place.

Thinking about him palming himself for the rest of the night and choking himself with a tie you got him a long time ago, fucking himself stupid with your gun which you left in his tent. But it's not enough. Such a greedy boy. It's never enough for him.

That's why you have to keep him in line. It keeps him sane.

[captainsophiestark]

Rock Solid

Enzo St. John x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: TVD/TO

Summary: Enzo's SO roped him into joining a Mystic Falls scooby gang game of truth or dare, and the rest of the Mystic Falls group is having trouble believing just how healthy their relationship is.

Word Count: 1,193

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: I know not all of the characters mentioned in this were present/on speaking terms at the same time in TVD, but I don't care. We're ignoring the timeline and going for vibes.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Okay, truth or dare?"

I could tell Tyler was up to something across the circle of our friends, but I wasn't sure what. I hummed, thinking for a moment before deciding to play it on the safer side. I'd known Tyler for most of our lives, and if he had a grin like that on his face, I didn't want to know what dare idea might be causing it.

"Truth."

Damon booed from across the circle, but Tyler and I ignored him. To my surprise, Tyler's grin actually grew as he asked his question.

"What's the biggest secret you're keeping from Enzo?"

I frowned, but not because I was upset at the question. My boyfriend, Enzo St. John, was sitting next to me, his arm around my shoulders. I'd dragged him to this party with my old Mystic Falls friends, and he'd given me some raised eyebrows and eyerolls at the idea of playing truth or dare. But, for me, he'd been a good sport about it. Because he loved me, and he knew it would make me happy while costing him relatively little. We had each other's backs like that.

Which is why I had absolutely no idea what Tyler was trying to do. Amongst the secrets, lies, and manipulations that had become the norm for my group since vampires got involved, Enzo and I always told each other everything. We didn't keep secrets from each other, unless maybe one of us was planning a surprise party, and frankly, I thought it was the main reason we were in a happy, committed relationship without the drama the rest of our group kept going through.

"Uh..." I said, stalling for time while I racked my mind. It seemed like Tyler was fishing for a specific answer, but I had no idea what it could be. After another few moments of thinking, I shook my head and dropped my gaze back down to meet Tyler's. "Honestly, I can't think of anything. I know that's not really the point of this game, but... I don't have any secrets from Enzo."

Right on cue, our entire friend group groaned and rolled their eyes. Also on cue, Enzo leaned down to kiss my temple with a smile. I turned to smile back at him, leaning closer into him and resting one hand on his thigh.

"Okay, there's no way you guys are actually this perfect," Caroline said, sitting up a little further from her seat beside Tyler. "There has to be some moment or lie or something that you haven't told him. What about that time at the bar...?"

"The one where we saw Kol and Klaus? He knows all about that."

Caroline narrowed her eyes at me.

"He knows all about that?"

"Yeah, Caroline," I replied, leaning forward and raising an eyebrow so she would hopefully get my meaning. "All about it."

My look must've worked, because Caroline promptly went bright red as her mouth dropped open. She glared at me, her voice raising in pitch as she spoke again.

"Are you serious? You told him about that?"

"Yes! Sorry, but... yeah, I did!"

Caroline huffed and flopped back into her seat, and I didn't need to look at my boyfriend to know he was grinning. I'd gone on a weekend trip to New Orleans with Caroline a few months ago, and we'd run into Klaus and Kol at a bar. Kol had spent some time hitting on me, but I'd shut him down, and we eventually ended up spending the night bonding and commisserating over the people we'd come to the bar with, who'd snuck off into the back to make out in a closet or something. I'd told Enzo everything, from the flirting to the shift to friendliness to Caroline ducking out with Klaus.

"Well what about some of the plans we've put together?" Elena chimed in, shifting in her seat next to Damon. "Like some of the things we all came up with before you started dating, when he was still working with the enemy?"

I shook my head. "...No, I told him about all of that after we started dating. And he told me about all of his pre-dating plots, too."

"Well what about-"

"I actually have a confession," Enzo broke in. Everyone stopped dead to look at him, and I turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. He continued, keeping his attention on my friends. "I know the question wasn't directed at me, but-"

"This works too," said Tyler, waving him off with a grin. "Whatta ya got?"

Enzo cleared his throat, then turned to meet my eyes. His expression was serious, and I could tell the rest of the room thought this was going to be a massive bombshell, but I honestly couldn't get myself to buy it. I just waited, letting Enzo build up to whatever it was he wanted to say.

"...I ate the last piece of cake last week."

I gasped, hand to my heart and a scowl instantly on my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw all our friends rolling their eyes and groaning, but I ignored them.

"Enzo! How could you?" I delivered the line like he'd just told me he'd slept with my best friend. "This is a betrayal! A stone-cold, unforgivable betrayal!"

"Alright, we get it!" Tyler broke in, giving us the tone equivalent of an eyeroll. I ignored him.

"Unless..." I said. Ezno raised his eyebrow, and I took a deep, dramatic breath. I barely managed to hold back a grin and stay in character. "I have a confession too. I was lying before, there is something I'm keeping from you."

"Boo!" called Caroline, as Damon hurled a pillow at the two of us. I ducked behind Enzo, letting it hit him, and the two of us quickly returned to dramatic form as it bounced off.

"I... told you the coffee I brought you last night was regular, but it was decaf. I know you're a vampire, but holy shit babe, it was two in the morning and you were drinking it for the taste, not to stay awake. You were trying to drink black coffee and go to bed. I couldn't just stand by."

"...I noticed. But it was adorable and thoughtful of you, so I didn't mention it."

I gasped again. "You bastard!"

That was the absolute limit of what Enzo and I could get through without dissolving into a fit of laughter. He moved his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him, and I laid my head on his chest as I laughed my ass off. Half of our friends were glaring at us while the other half smiled fondly, but Enzo and I couldn't have cared less.

Leave the shitty drama and backstabbing to the rest of the supernatural world. Enzo and I were rock solid, and neither of us was ever going to let anything change that.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[often-daydreaming]

Last Night

"Heard you've been making trouble in Star City."

"We finally get an hour together and you wanna talk about Green Arrow's delusional rants?" Jazz almost sounded offended but there was a small smile on her face as she takes a sip of her drink and Jason is just grinning as he recounts everything Roy shared.

"He's worried you're gonna overthrow the local gangs at the rate you're going."

"Oh, come on." She huffs genuinely amused. "I was only defending myself."

"I know but you should see some of the theories he's cooked up. The latest one Roy told me about is something about you being an Amazon."

And they share a laugh over it as they continue to catch up over a few burgers and some drinks.

This was nice.

Simple.

It was nearly perfect even.

Jason would never openly admit it. He'd never take the chance out of fear of someone, somewhere using it against him but Jazz had been one of the best things to walk into his life.

She was strong.

So sure of herself and just as kind.

It's why he did everything he could to get her out of Gotham.

She was too kind for Arkham.

Too good for his kind of life.

The monsters in there would twist her into something unimaginable if she stayed and Jason was way too attached by then to let her become another Harley Quinn.

Central would have been better but he could trust his contacts in Star City.

Roy would look out for her when he couldn't and he could enjoy these handful of quiet moments where they were just an ordinary couple on a date.

"I can handle mister narcissist. Out of the two of us you're the one who should be worried about."

"Ah, I'm fine."

Which was a lie. Gotham was even worse than usual lately.

"Yeah, until some idiot gets lucky."

Carefully brushing their hands together she runs her fingers over where the latest stitching were. It wasn't bad but he wasn't healing like he used to, the usual after effects of the pit were losing their effect so he'd lied and said he was in a car accident.

"You're changing the subject Jazz. What's going on with you?"

He watches her get up and walk over to the corner of the restaurant to put on some music, the old jukebox playing an even older song.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just... tired of holding it all in." She looks over her shoulder with a smile. "Maybe you're a bad influence on me."

"Who. Me?"

He gets up to join her when she holds out her hand.

"You were always a bad influence on me."

"I've got a feeling you've had a bad girl hiding inside you long before we ever met."

"Maybe. I've made a lot of bad decisions. Dated the wrong men. Trusted the wrong people but it's what led me here."

They slowly dance for a while until they hear the bartender calling out. "Hey you! No dancing." He jerks his thumb to a sign behind him saying the same thing along with this is not a dancefloor and green floods his vision before Jazz is pulling him away.

"I guess it's time to call it a night."

"Maybe we can try a different bar tomorrow?"

She sounds so hopeful and he wants to say yes. He wants nothing more than to just stay here in this moment with her but he can't. Not yet.

"I'd love to but I've gotta head back soon."

"Another one of those mysterious secret missions you can't tell me about?"

"You know it."

"You know if you ever need my help."

"Nah." He can't pull her into his messed up world. He won't. "It's just our usual family drama."

Bruce was going off the rails again. Dick was angry and everyone else was scrambling like usual to keep everything running.

It'd all be sorted out in a couple of weeks at most. Either way this was going to be his last mission.

He grabs his bag getting ready to leave when he feels a tug on his sleeve and Jazz is pulling him back into a kiss. It's the perfect way to end their night together.

Too perfect.

As they go their separate ways already planning their next date Jazz let's him go one last time not knowing that tonight would be the last night she'd ever see him again.

After Jason made it back to Gotham her texts went unanswered.

Phone calls were ignored.

Watching the news made it seem like everything that could go wrong was currently going wrong in Gotham so after two weeks of nothing but silence Jazz was in the middle of getting ready to book the first flight she could find when she suddenly felt a cold breeze drift through her apartment and between one second and the next Danny is floating there clinging to an exhausted Roy who drops down onto one of her couches looking utterly defeated.

Roy, Jason's best friend who is dressed up like Arsenal and they both look like they've just gone through hell. Their gear is busted and ripped with dried blood everywhere and she's just about to ask what's wrong, what happened, where's Jason when everything simply stops as she remembers the latest news coming out of Gotham.

Batman killed Red Hood.

It shouldn't... It was a lie.

It had to be a lie.

There were a thousand and one questions running through her mind as she stared down at the bloodied remains of Red Hood's shattered helmet in Danny's hands and every little thing she's tried to ignore until now clicks into place with a horrifying clarity.

It's been a while but I wanted to do something today and saw a short on YouTube that inspired this. It could either be the aftermath of Gotham War or Jason vs the Penguin but whatever you feel like could have caused it ends up so much worse.

[corroded-hellfire]

i love as you wish wednesdays! how did the three kids take the news that reader was expecting again? 🥰

It felt very fitting to fill this request this week because reader goes into labor with this pregnancy on April Fool’s Day and Eddie thinks it’s a prank at first (thank you @munson-blurbs for that idea). Yes, I have a whole timeline mapped out for these stories because I’m a nerd. I hope you enjoy the continuing adventures of this crazy gang 😘

Words: 2.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The lock clicks on the front door, swinging inward as Eddie gives it a push from the outside. Gentleman as ever, he gestures for his family to walk into the house before him. Ryan steps in first, you right behind him, then Luke comes over the threshold, Eliza slung over his shoulder, the little girl almost comatose from eating so much of her macaroni and cheese at the restaurant. 

Eddie brings up the rear and closes the door behind him. The two of you share a look full of excitement and nerves as your husband kicks off his boots and wipes his hands off on the sides of his dark jeans. It’s rare the Munson house is ever this quiet, all members stuffed from the nice family dinner they just had. Little do the kids know that the evening out was a precursor to some major news. 

It’s been a few weeks since you revealed to Eddie that you were pregnant again. The two of you had been caught in a whirlwind of excitement, your husband joking that it didn’t take him long to “get one past the goalie” since the two of you decided to go off all forms of birth control and try for another baby. Ryan, Luke, and Eliza had just started school when you found out though, so both you and Eddie wanted to give them some time to get into the swing of things before you dropped another big change on them. 

The few weeks gave you and your husband time to discuss how and when to tell the kids about the new baby. At first, you’d discussed telling the boys and Eliza separately because they’ll understand it differently because of their respective ages. Ultimately, you decided against that because it was important for you both to tell them all together, as the one big family you are. Now the time was here, and you couldn’t help but think the butterflies in your stomach must be fluttering around the baby growing inside of you. 

“I’m going to call Hannah,” Ryan says, cheeks pinkening at the mere mention of the girl he likes and went out on a “maybe sort-of” date with last weekend.

“Ah, in a little while,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of his oldest son’s chest, stopping him from heading down the hallway toward his room. He nods his head towards the couch where Luke is flinging a very rag doll looking Eliza down on the middle cushion, nudging Ryan to join his siblings. 

Luke takes a seat on one side of Eliza as she struggles to sit up, while Ryan takes the other. The younger brother takes a look at his siblings before looking back to his parents.

“Who’s in trouble?” he asks.

Eddie shakes his head as he pulls the recliner that’s typically tucked away in the corner of the room in front of the couch so the two of you can sit facing your kids. Once he sits, you perch yourself in Eddie’s lap and he immediately wraps his arm around your waist.

“No one is in trouble,” Eddie tells them. 

“We just want to talk to you guys,” you add. 

“Sounds like trouble,” Eliza mumbles to her brothers, sinking lower in her seat. 

An exasperated look is shared between you and your husband, both of your expressions simultaneously turning into giddy smiles in your excitement. The look doesn’t go unnoticed by your sons, who shoot each other questioning glances over their little sister’s curly head. 

Now that it was time to break the news, you started to get truly nervous for the first time. What if they didn’t take it well? Sure, the boys had been very excited to find out when you were pregnant with Eliza, but they’ve both grown into teenagers since then and gained the moods that come along with the titles. Eliza might not be thrilled either, used to being the baby of the family, getting the lion’s share of the attention her whole life. Neither you nor Eddie doubted your kids would love their new sibling dearly, but their initial reactions were still a little worrisome.

A soft hand rubs up and down your thigh, as if Eddie can sense your nerves–and possibly shares in them as well. You’d both prepared a time and place to tell them, figured out how to initiate the conversation, but how to come out and say it? Not so much.

Eddie clears his throat and gives your leg a light squeeze, letting you know he’s got you. He gives you a nod, encouraging you forward. You’d wanted to be the one to break the news. In this moment it was hard for you to remember why.

“So, we have some news for you guys.” You know if you let those words sit there too long the three kids will just start shouting different scenarios and ideas at you, so it’s best to just get it out. “You’re going to have a new baby brother or sister.”

There. The hard part was done. Now you were ready to see their reactions. Only, none come at first. You simply sit there in your husband’s lap, three pairs of eyes staring back at you. It feels like your chest seizes up and you internally wonder if you’d said the words aloud or not.

But finally, a smile cracks on Ryan’s face and he sits up straighter.

“Really?” he asks.

The initial response breaks the ice, allowing the younger Munson siblings to sink into the conversation as well.

Eliza looks a little confused while Luke’s eyebrows pull together and he lets out a groan as he flops back on the couch.

“Ugh, that means you guys still do it,” he says. 

You can’t help but balk at his words, your cheeks heating up. Honestly, it shouldn’t surprise you coming from Luke. It certainly didn’t shock your husband. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at the fourteen-year-old. “How old do you think we are?”

“63,” Eliza answers immediately with complete confidence. 

Stifling a laugh, Ryan leans in towards you, you meeting him halfway to hear what he has to say.

“Be glad that the age part of that is what she focused on,” Ryan mumbles to you and you nod in agreement. 

Eddie runs his hand over his face, pushing past the age thing. “Eliza, do you understand about the baby?”

The little girl tilts her head to the side like a confused puppy. She looks alarmingly like her father with an open and curious expression on her cherubic face. 

“A baby?” she asks.

“That’s right,” Eddie says with a nod. “There’s a baby growing in Mommy’s tummy.”

This seems to puzzle Eliza more than anything else that has been said. Her face scrunches up as she tilts her head to the other side. “How did it get there?”

At her question, both of your teenage sons turn to look at the two of you with shit-eating grins on their faces. Of course they’d be no help.

“Yeah, how?” Luke asks, feigning innocence. 

Heat blooms fire in your cheeks and Eddie clears his throat before shooting the boys a quick glare. By the way he clenches his fist, you can tell your husband is resisting throwing a couch pillow at the younger teen. 

“Well,” Eddie says, taking a calming breath, “when mommies and daddies love each other, their love can grow a baby.”

Questions still swim in Eliza’s eyes so you swoop in to add more information before she can ask anything more specific. 

“And the baby grows in my belly until they’re big and strong and can be born,” you add. 

The little gears turning in Eliza’s head are practically visible as she thinks over her parents’ words. She’s silent for a few moments before speaking.

“I’m the baby.”

“You’ll always be our baby girl,” Eddie is quick to assure her. This was his biggest worry in telling the kids; Eliza was so used to having everyone wrapped around her finger. “Ryan and Luke are still my baby boys.”

The three-year-old isn’t convinced. 

“…I’m the baby.”

With a soft smile, you lean forward and scoop your daughter up in your arms. She settles in your lap with a little huff, and you press reassuring kisses to her chocolate curls. 

“You are. But there’s going to be another baby. That means you get to be a big sister now.”

The toddler ponders this aspect for a moment, eventually asking, “What I do?”

“Well, before the baby is born you can help me pick out things for the nursery and some cute baby clothes,” you say, appealing to her stylish streak. “You know I trust your fashion sense more than the boys.”

Eliza’s small head bobs up and down in agreement. Never again would she let her brothers pick out her outfits—she’s learned her lesson.

“Then after the baby is born,” you continue, “you can teach them all kinds of stuff. You’ll be to the new baby like Ryan and Luke are to you.”

“Will…” Eliza’s bottom lip starts to tremble, another worry taking hold in her mind. “Will they still love me and play with me?”

Her big brothers are on duty though, already reassuring her before you can even raise your head to look at them.

“Of course, squirt,” Luke says, reaching forward and poking her full belly. “You’re not getting rid of us that easily.”

“A new baby is just one more person to love,” Ryan explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “But that doesn’t mean we love you any less.”

“The heart can always make more love,” Eddie adds, taking his daughter’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“And just think,” Luke says, eyes widening with his trademark mischievous grin, “when they get older, you and I can play pranks on them like Ryan and I do to you.”

Large doe eyes light up at that, Eliza always wanting to be a part of her big brother’s shenanigans. The new idea clearly excites her and the prospect of her becoming a mini-Luke is too exhausting for you to even consider.

Eliza next turns those big brown eyes on you, now looking a little more serious than excited. 

“Mama, can you make the baby a girl?”

Both you and Eddie chuckle at her request.

“I can’t control that, sorry kid,” you tell her with a small smile.

“I hope she’s a girl,” Eliza says, sounding more like she’s declaring what will be rather than what she wants. 

“No!” Luke protests with an overdramatic whine. “Ryan and I need another boy on our side.”

“I say it’s a girl,” Ryan says and it makes Luke drop his jaw and look at his older brother as if he’s a traitor. But, of course, it’s Luke, so another scheme pops into his brain.

“How much are you willing to bet?”

“Oh, God,” you mumble, dropping your head forward to rest your forehead atop Eliza’s curls.

The older Munson brother appraises the younger, his eyes suspicious and inquisitive. “What do you have in mind?”

“Loser gets a tattoo.”

“No,” Eddie immediately interjects. He didn’t mind the betting, but he wasn’t about to let one of his teenage sons choose something permanent to ink on his other teenage son for the rest of their lives.

“You have like 80 of them!” Luke whines at his father.

“But all my choice, none from a bet,” Eddie says. That may or may not be true, but he’s not about to give his impressionable son any ideas. “Next.”

“Loser wears a Care Bear onesie—with a hood—into a McDonald’s and eats lunch there,” Ryan says, pointing a finger in his brother’s direction.

Luke immediately accepts. “Deal. Winner picks the Care Bear costume.”

They shake on it and Eddie can’t help the amused smirk that dances on his lips.

“I cannot wait to see this.”

The bet now settled, Ryan turns to face you. “How far along are you?”

“Just eight weeks,” you say.

“Maybe we won’t find out if it’s a girl or boy beforehand. Just keep the suspense of the bet in the air until the birth,” Eddie muses. Of course he’s egging this on. 

“Can I name this baby too?” Ryan asks, eyes lighting up.

This question catches Eliza by surprise and her eyes widen comically as she stares at him.

“You named me?!”

“You’re lucky. Luke wanted to name you Donnie,” Ryan explains.

Eyes getting impossibly wider, your little girl looks up at you. “Mommy, don’t let Luke name the baby.”

With a laugh, you press a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t worry, sweet pea.”

Ryan lounges back on the couch, a smirk on his face as his eyes flit back and forth between you and Eddie.

“You know, I think you’re having this baby because I’ll be a senior next year and you don’t want an empty nest when I’m gone.”

“This is not how I envisioned this conversation going,” Eddie says with a huff of laughter.

“What did you want more of?” Luke asks. “Cheers? Tears? I’ll be happy to provide either way.”

Both of your sons start performing over-the-top expressions for Eddie, fake crying and grinning in glee, proving once and for all that they both inherited his dramatic gene. 

With a sigh bigger than you’d expect from such a small girl, Eliza snuggles back against you and places a small hand on your tummy. All three Munson men start cackling in laughter at something Luke did, but Eliza just looks up at you with a straight face.

“Boys,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Tha’s why I want baby to be a girl.”

[kingkaisen]

REGRETS — PART III

♡ — FIND PART I & PART II HERE . . .

♡ — CONTENT: fem! reader, gun mention, character injury, violence, angst, & dark content.

♡ — WC: 5.3K

♡ — A/N: this is the final part woooo!

— YEARS BEFORE —

“Levi,” a small whine fell from your pouty lips, and your husband couldn’t help but close the space between you both, and kiss you softly.

“Hm?” He mumbled against your lips. “What is it?”

Your fingertips graced his muscular shoulder, as he was shirtless, lying on top of you underneath the thin blanket draped across your bed.

Not much warmth ever managed to circulate in your tiny little home — not much warmth existed anywhere in the underground, period — but Levi’s body being pressed against yours sent a wave of heat coursing through your veins.

The flickering light from the candle melting on your nightstand illuminated the side of his pretty face, and he looked down at you with the softest eyes.

A look of love.

“We should just stay here,” you whispered. “Joining the scouts to see the sun isn’t worth it — not if one of us dies. Or both of us.”

“Hey,” Levi reached up with one hand and ran his thumb gently across your cheek. “We promised to talk about this in the morning, remember? We agreed to not make important decisions when we haven’t eaten.”

“I know, but . . .” looking at him sadly, your words trailed off into nothingness.

You had food, about two apples and three packs of crackers, but you were both saving it for tomorrow, meaning that tonight, you’d both go to bed hungry.

Levi would have to rob a couple of merchants once again, and like always, you’d insist upon coming with him. It was dangerous, and he hated that you were both forced into such a disgraceful lifestyle.

“We don’t have to stay in the survey corps forever, just enough to get the job done, then we won’t have to live in the underground or fight titans. We could just . . . be happy,” Levi said.

“How does that sound? Hm?” Suddenly, he kissed your lips again. Then, he kissed your cheek, and your neck, and your sweet little laugh made him smile against your skin.

“Okay, okay,” you ran your fingers through his black hair. “I trust you, Levi.”

Levi continued to trail kisses down your neck, humming in response to your statement.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over your shoulder. “Love you so much — you know that, right?”

“I love you too.” Although he couldn’t see it, as he was much too busy decorating your skin with love bites, you smiled down at him.

You truly loved your husband.

—

Getting his entire team to a nearby hospital was no easy feat.

Luckily, your gang of assassins hadn’t spotted them, as they had enough trouble traveling through the dark, leaving trails of blood with every step.

Jean had fallen over twice due to the gunshot wound in his leg. After all, the two people who were helping him walk — Connie and Historia — were in terrible shape themselves.

Historia’s injured fingers had changed from their usual pleasantly pale color to a dark purple-blue tone, and she started to lose movement in her wrist, although she was quietly suffering in silence.

Connie still couldn’t see out of his left eye, which bled continuously, and with every passing second, he risked going blind forever.

Armin and Mikasa were at risk of catching an infection due to their improperly cleaned wounds, and Sasha, who was still unconscious, had lost the most blood from the gunshot wound in her arm.

But, eventually, they made it.

The brown, cozy hospital mainly tended to people who had injured themselves at the festival or were suffering from dehydration or heat stroke, and when the doctors saw several injured scouts stagger through the front door, they immediately started to tend to their wounds.

A few doctors tried to treat Levi’s bullet wound, but he refused their care.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, stepping away from the nurse who attempted to pull off his makeshift bandage.

They insisted that he needed to let them look at his injury. After all, he was shot. He had lost a ton of blood.

But, Levi left anyway and headed back in the direction of the place where the bullet first entered his arm.

—

You were waiting for him.

The sound of his booted footsteps approaching your hideout caught your attention first. Turning to face him, the moonlight illuminated the side of his face much like your bedside candles once did, years ago.

Back when you were both happy.

“Good evening,” you greeted with a smile, your eyes darting down to his bloodied arm and red-stained shirt. Sarcastically, you said, “I see you’re doing well.”

“Shit,” Levi thought.

Of course, you were out here, waiting for him.

He should have known that you’d guess his tactic, as you spent years robbing merchants together with a band of fellow thieves. You knew Levi preferred sneaky methods, never bothering to do anything flashy or outrageously risky.

“Are you going to kill me now?” Levi’s questioned, a bit breathless from pure exhaustion.

You already had Eren. You could yank out your gun and shoot him, and his reflex might be slow enough now for you to actually hit him in a vital spot.

He could only hope that it would satisfy your bloodlust, and maybe, just maybe, the rest of his team could escape this shitty district, find Hange, Erwin, and the others, and employ a rescue mission to save Eren before it’s too late.

And, hopefully, not kill you in the process.

Levi was snapped out of his wishful thoughts when you stepped towards him.

His mind screamed for him to step away, but he ignored his survival instincts, as he just wanted to be close to you, no matter the cost. Even if the price he had to pay was his life.

“Come with me,” you said, before turning around, and walking off in the other direction, confident that he’d follow.

And your confidence wasn’t misplaced, as he did follow you like a lost puppy.

You led him away from the hideout — away from Eren. With every step, you didn’t bother to speak to him, nor turn around to face him.

Just where were you leading him, exactly? To a perfect place to end his life? Perhaps where more of your assassins lay in wait, or where you could kill without any interference?

He had questions. Questions that he didn’t dare ask.

All he did was follow you and push away his survival instincts telling him to fight or flee.

You led him both through the darkness and through the bustling town, as the festivities lasted well through the night, but, after spending what felt like forever walking — especially when he so desperately needed to rest and treat his wound — you were both no longer in town, but in the surrounding empty woods and fields.

The moon was your only source of light due to the great distance between the woods and the town.

Slowly, your footsteps came to a halt.

It was just you and him.

“Why’d you bring me here?” He stopped walking, keeping himself at a safe distance away from you.

Struggling to catch his breath, he clenched his wounded arm.

“I just wanted a little more privacy,” you answered, facing him, smiling cruelly. “This is a very important moment for me. I didn’t want anyone around — not any civilians, military police, or my own crew. Just you and me. That, and I can’t have you getting close to Eren.”

“Why can’t we just talk?” Levi begged for the unbeggable. His breathing started to grow heavy, and he grimaced in pain, frowning as he furrowed his brows.

“There’s nothing to talk about-”

“There’s plenty to talk about,” Levi paused. “I know you’re in a hurry to kill me, but I really don’t give a damn. Like it or not, I’m not going to make it easy for you, because one way or another, I’ll get you to talk to me, and you’re going to listen-”

A bullet was fired at Levi’s feet.

A warning shot, and yet, he didn’t even see you reach for your gun.

He didn’t mind dying by your hand. He made his peace with such an unpleasant thought. But, if you were going to murder him, then you owed him one last thing: a chance to say his final words.

Levi started to run.

Not necessarily away from you, but through the trees, which provided great cover thanks to their enormous dark branches and leaves. That, along with the darkness that the night provided, made it incredibly difficult to pin down his whereabouts, which, in turn, decreased your aiming accuracy. That much was clear when your next fired bullet landed into the thick bark of a tree.

“This is gonna be so much fun, Levi,” spinning around slowly, you tried to track down his movements, but he was unimaginably fast, despite his injury.

You didn’t want to shoot him. You wanted to take his life by stabbing him with your knife, but, perhaps, you didn’t have that luxury.

“I’m curious about something,” you called out. “You and I both know that the only way to stop me is by killing me. Looks like you can’t make up your mind about whether or not you have the guts to take my life.”

He didn’t respond, and you couldn’t find him. Slowly, you started to walk with your gun pointed, glancing around in every direction like a predator hunting its prey.

“Levi,” you shouted sweetly. “Are you really hiding from me? I expected more from you-”

Your legs were kicked from underneath you. Your back smacked against the ground, knocking the air out of your lungs. It was a swift move.

Once you were down, Levi got on top of you and grabbed your gun. He tossed it as far away as he could. As one final, desperate attempt, you tried to reach for your knife, but Levi grabbed ahold of your wrists and pinned them down beside your head.

“Get off of me,” you frowned, squirming around beneath him.

“No,” he frowned as well. “You’re going to listen to what I have to say, got it? Look at me.”

You didn’t. You kept your head turned to the side.

“Look at me.” Levi moved your hands above your head, pinning your wrists down with only one of his hands now, and with the other, he gripped your chin and turned your head, forcing you to look into his eyes. “If you wanna kill me, fine. But you owe me this. If you wanna take my life, then the least you can do is talk to me first.”

“I don’t owe you a damn thing,” your venomous words were coated with bitterness, and you stared into Levi’s eyes with a look that could kill him just as easily as your weapons.

“Do you remember the day we first met?” Levi started, ignoring your aggressive response. “We were just kids — both of us starving and by ourselves, trying to survive. You didn’t know me, we hadn’t spoken one word to each other, but you walked up to me and gave me the rest of your bread. I didn’t get it. I was a stranger, and you were more hungry than I was. Then, I realized that you were just a good person. I split the bread in half, and shared it with you.”

“So? What’s your point?”

“Do you remember when we went on our first date? When we got married? When we first escaped the Underground? Do you remember any of it?”

“I-”

“Did you ever bother to ask yourself why I still wore my wedding ring, even after I thought I lost you?” Levi interrupted. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved, and you’re too damn smart to pretend you don’t know that. I messed up. I thought that you were dead, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I didn’t know how to process what I was seeing, so I just . . . did what Erwin told me to do, and I left what I thought was your dead body behind. It was a mistake — I’m human. But I honored you in every possible way after that. I hold on to every memory of you and me because I’d rather die than forget them. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Levi released your wrists. He reached into the holster around your hips, grabbing your knife.

He placed the weapon in your hand, and you gripped it tightly.

“Kill me. If that’ll make you happy, then just do it already.” Levi wrapped his bloodied hand around yours, which was wrapped around the handle of your knife, and he forced you to press the edge of the blade against his chest.

But you didn’t stab him yet.

“Do it. What the hell are you waiting for?” Levi gritted his teeth, staring deeply into your eyes — eyes that he couldn’t look away from. Breathlessly, he said, “Just know that I love you. I love you so damn much, and nothing you do can change that.”

“Stop saying that you love me,” Your hand started to tremble. “You’re lying so that I won’t do it. I don’t have a choice. This is more than just revenge for me. I have people who rely on me. They’re hungry. Thirsty. The king’s money won’t last forever, and no one will work with our organization again if we fail. I have to complete this job — I have to.”

“Then complete it. Take care of your people. If I die by your hand, I don’t care. I’ll happily be killed by you, so just get on with it already.”

Why was it so hard?

When he said that he wouldn’t make it easy for you to kill him, you assumed that he meant that he’d fight back. Try to kill you as well, perhaps.

But, instead, he poisoned your mind with old, sweet memories, and you couldn’t find the strength to thrust your blade into his chest.

But you had to build up the courage.

You didn’t have a choice — and if you ever would regret killing him someday, then so be it.

Levi stared down at you, not with a face of fear, but a look of contentment. Acceptance. He was ready to transition from this life and to the next, and he darted his eyes over every beautiful feature of your face, as he wanted to stare at you as long as he could before he died.

You pressed the knife into his skin. You started to pierce him slowly, a circle of fresh blood starting to soak his shirt, mixing with the old blood from his gunshot wound.

A soft smile appeared across Levi’s face.

And that smile — god. It was the same smile that you had woken up to every morning, all those years ago. It was the same smile that always made your knees wobbly, and made your heart flutter. It was the same smile that made you want to marry him in the first place.

It was too much. He was too much.

And you couldn’t do it.

The knife fell from your hand, and Levi’s smile fell from his face. He furrowed his brows in utter confusion.

“Get off of me,” you said softly.

He grunted as he pushed himself off of you — his wound was draining every bit of his energy.

He was struggling to breathe.

Levi extended his hand out, offering to help you off of the ground, but you didn’t take it. You got up on your own.

The gentle breeze shook the leaves and branches of the nearby trees, almost as if nature itself was celebrating your utter failure. Silently, you grabbed your knife, and after searching for your gun, you grabbed it as well.

Then, you started to walk away.

Levi gripped your wrist.

“Hold on,” Levi looked puzzled. “You’re just going to walk away?”

“Yeah,” you stated.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“Don’t know,” with a pause, you laughed briefly and softly. “I guess I still love you. Now leave me alone.”

He didn’t want to — god, he didn’t want to at all — but, Levi let go of your wrist.

He sat down on the ground, as standing was becoming rather difficult, and he couldn’t separate the trees from the sky anymore, his vision becoming blurry.

Rapid breaths were suddenly louder than the wind, and that was what made you turn around.

Thanks to the gunshot wound — and you piercing his chest certainly did him no favors — Levi was losing too much blood.

Slowly, you approached him, and he didn’t have the strength to look up at you.

“If I leave him here, he’ll die,” you thought.

You’d be able to bring his body back with you, satisfy the king, and not witness the downfall of your infamous business.

With a thump, Levi’s back hit the hard ground as he fell over, his eyes rolling back into his head as he suddenly lost consciousness.

“Levi?” You called out.

Crouching down, you did the one thing he didn’t do for you that day.

You checked his pulse.

He was still alive, but soon, he wouldn’t be.

Driving a knife through his body didn’t turn out to be as easy as you hoped, but letting him succumb to his injuries was.

—

“Thank you,” Armin mumbled kindly to a woman who treated his burn wound as she secured a white bandage on his cheek.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “We’re still treating the rest of your friends. Would you like to wait for them in the waiting room?”

“Sure,” getting up from his seat, Armin headed into the small waiting room.

Before he could sit down and wait for his friends to join him, the front door of the tiny hospital suddenly opened.

A trail of bloodied boot prints decorated the hospital floor as you staggered in, breathing in and out drastically with exhaustion. On your back, you carried Armin’s captain, his arms dangling across your shoulders. You dropped to your knees as three nurses instantly rushed over. You couldn’t take another step.

“Help him,” you spoke wearily.

They were quick to tend to the unconscious man, and as they took him away to rush him into surgery, you tried to catch your breath.

Carrying a grown man through the woods, down a hill, and across town was no easy feat. And, as you were close to collapsing and losing consciousness yourself, you considered abandoning him several times.

You didn’t have the strength to get off of the hospital floor just yet.

Through slightly blurred vision, you could see a pair of boots. Someone was approaching you cautiously.

Looking up, you frowned.

“What do you want?” You asked the blonde-haired boy.

“What . . . what happened?” Armin blinked at you, puzzled.

“What does it look like?” Slowly, you started to stand. Armin grabbed your arm, helping you to your feet. “I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t let him die. I’m a fucking failure. So, congratulations. You got your captain back.”

“What about Eren?”

Turning around, you ignored him and walked through the hospital doors.

—

An hour later, you dragged Eren across the ground — down the cobblestone streets as you gripped the collar of his shirt — and left the restrained boy at the entrance of the hospital.

Armin and Mikasa — both of whom were treated by now — rushed out of the door to his side.

And he was mostly fine; pissed off, of course.

Three faces with confusion written across them stared up at you, questions flooding their minds.

“You brought him back,” Armin mumbled in utter surprise. His words came out as both a statement and a question. “Thank you.”

But, once again, you walked away without another word.

—

— TWO WEEKS LATER —

Several sheets of paper and two envelopes decorated the desk in the private office of your official headquarters.

The two envelopes were from the king, and you hadn’t yet built up the courage to open them.

The sheets of paper were covered with inked writing, several numbers and dates written across it as you scanned your eyes over the valuable information.

It was a list you had created to budget your money.

Word had gotten around that you failed to kill Captain Levi and kidnap Eren Yeager. The word spread like wildfire, and slowly, your organization started to receive fewer and fewer requests for your peculiar services, just as you predicted.

In time, your people would starve. Your business would shut down.

And, perhaps, the king would build up an army strong enough to kill you and your fellow assassins over your failure.

A tear rolled down your cheek. It splattered onto a sheet of paper.

Suddenly, someone knocked on your office door.

“Come in,” you said, quickly wiping away your tears.

When the door opened, you were noticeably shocked to see Levi step into your office and shut the door behind him.

“How the hell did you get in here?” You said, but not with anger, but with a tone of pure exhaustion.

“I snuck in,” Levi approached your desk. “I didn’t hurt any of your people, don’t worry. Can I sit?”

You nodded. “What do you want?”

Levi sat down, but he didn’t respond to your question immediately, as he wanted a lot of things, some of which he didn’t dare vocalize.

“I wanted . . . to say thank you.” He paused. “Not only did you not kill me, but you saved my life, and you brought Eren back.”

“Yeah, well. Doing that cost me everything — literally.” You stared down at your desk, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

You didn’t have the nerve.

“Let me help.”

“Seriously?” Chuckling in disbelief, you said, “And how exactly can you help, Levi?”

“Just trust me.” Suddenly, Levi got up from his seat.

He walked around your desk, and pulled your chair out slightly, turning it to the left so you were facing him.

“Why did you save my life?” He asked softly, looking down at you.

For a moment, you were silent. Your eyes still didn’t meet his.

“You know why,” you whispered.

You wanted to cry. Because of love, you felt like a failure.

Once, you were a criminal in the underground. Then, you were an assassin. A business owner responsible for leading other killers. However, underneath it all, you were just a woman who missed her husband.

“You still love me,” Levi said softly. “That’s why.”

Another tear fell. You raised your hand to wipe it, but Levi stopped you. He stroked your cheek with his own thumb, wiping your tears away himself.

“It’s okay,” He said.

“No, it’s not,” you hated the way your voice sounded — weak and pathetic.

You hated the way you loved the feeling of Levi stroking your cheek.

“Y/N, you can’t get rid of me now, no matter how hard you try, so just . . . come here.”

You frowned in confusion. What exactly did he mean? You were already close enough.

Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet.

He hugged you. And, much to his surprise — and after much hesitation — you hugged him back.

Oh, how healing it was. To hold you again. He never wanted to let go, and when you wrapped your arms around him, he wanted to cry with you.

“I know we aren’t . . .” Levi paused, trying to find the right words to say. “I know things won’t go back to how they used to be, and I know it won’t be easy, but I want to be a part of your life again — somehow. I don’t care if all we’ll ever be is friends. I just . . . I can’t let go of you now.”

“How could we make that work?” You pulled away from him. “We both live entirely different lives now, and our lifestyles don’t exactly cooperate well.”

“They could.”

“Really? The leader of an assassin organization and the captain of the survey corps?”

“I know you never wanted to join the scouts in the first place, but, it could be a way for you and all of your people-”

“No. No way. I care about and love every single member of my organization too much to turn them into titan fodder.” You frowned.

Truly, you weren’t angry with him for making such a suggestion, as the thought even crossed your mind intrusively during one of your late-night brainstorming sessions, as you attempted to solve your conundrum. “They can’t join the Military Police either. The king will be way too pissed at us for not completing our job to give us any favors. The king’s too weak to kill us, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he still tried anyway. I’m screwed, Levi.”

“Don’t worry about the king. Erwin has a plan for every single one of those bastards. That’s what I heard.”

“Great. That solves one problem,” wiping away the last of your tears, you sat back down in your chair. “Either way, I still have to continue with my business somehow. I have to get people to buy our services again. It’s the only way I know how to survive and ensure the survival of everyone who works for me.”

“Hey, you don’t have to be an assassin anymore. We’ll figure something out, okay?” Leaning against your desk, Levi folded his arms across his chest. As he looked down at you, he smiled softly. “I just wanna stay here with you for a while. I still can’t believe you’re alive, if I’m being honest.”

You couldn’t help but smile as well. At the sight of it, Levi raised his eyebrows in utter shock. It was a real, genuine, soft smile — one that was barely noticeable, but it existed nevertheless.

Suddenly, your eyes flickered away from his, as a serious thought crossed your mind.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you said. “It’s very important.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about my assistant, Arden. Well, he’s not really my assistant, but I care about providing for him more than anyone else. He’s a good kid — cowardly, but, well, I love him,” you stammered. “He’s my kid. My son . . . I have a son.”

Levi’s eyes widened at first, but then, they softened. After all, he didn’t blame you for eventually moving on and forgetting about him, or for having a child with another man.

“I see,” Levi mumbled. “Is his father still around? Still alive?”

“Despite how many times I’ve tried to kill him, yes.”

“Why? What did he do? Did he hurt you?” Levi frowned. “If he did, I can find him and-”

“Oh my god, you’re really stupid,” you leaned back in your chair. “He’s our son, you idiot. That night we spent together before the expedition that almost killed me — do you remember it? We were so young and stupid back then.”

Levi blinked.

Truly, he didn’t know what to think, or how to even begin processing this new information. You and him had a child together.

It was all he ever wanted, all he used to dream about, but such dreams weren’t meant for a place like the Underground.

Levi’s heart started to pound rapidly.

He was a father. He had a child. He had a child with you.

“You’re really saying that I have a son? I’m someone’s . . . dad?”

The word dad seemed foreign. It rolled off of his tongue oddly.

“You say that as if you don’t treat your squad like your own kids,” your soft grin reappeared, and Levi’s heart melted.

“I wouldn’t know how to be a dad if I tried.” Levi paused. “I wanna meet him. Meet him properly. Does he know that I’m . . . his father?”

“Yes.”

—

During dinner, you made an announcement in your headquarters cafeteria, telling your fellow assassins that Captain Levi was now a welcomed guest.

And, afterward, Levi found the young teenager who had been sneakily — or, at least, trying to be sneaky — following him around all evening.

Levi stepped into the general hangout area, approaching the boy who managed to knock out Eren Yeager.

“Hi,” Levi greeted, and the boy smiled brightly. “Sorry to bother you-”

“You’re not bothering me, promise! Is everything okay?” As he looked up at Levi, the older man didn’t know how he failed to catch it before.

That boy was definitely his kid.

“Everything’s fine,” Levi paused. “I just wanted to meet you.”

“I’ve wanted to meet you too. I’ve been looking forward to this. Finding out my dad was Captain Levi was pretty cool, if I’m being honest.”

Levi smiled.

“How long have you known? Did you know when we first saw each other?”

“Yes, but mom told me not to say anything. She really hated you.” Arden laughed a bit, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“Yeah, I know. We’re working through that,” Levi said. “Listen. I don’t know much about fatherhood, and you’re a teenager now, so I guess you don’t need me around, but . . . I hope we can get to know each other someday.”

“I do need you around or, well, I’d like to have you around . . . If you wanna be around.” Stammering over his words, he paused. “When I heard that you and Mom weren’t at each other’s throats anymore, I was hoping that we could all become a family again someday. All three of us are living under the same roof, eating meals together — that sorta thing.”

Levi’s smile slowly faded. His son wanted the same thing that he wanted, but Levi didn’t want to give the kid any false hope.

“I’ll do everything I can to make it happen. Your mom and I have a long way to go, but I hope we can all sit at the same table someday,” Levi said. “And . . . I’m sorry I took so long to come around.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

Levi scanned his eyes over his son’s face, taking a moment to notice and appreciate his facial features. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”

“Huh?”

“You kinda look like me, kid.”

“Oh! I know!” Arden smiled brightly once again. “I have your nose and chin, and there are some other similarities too. I wish I had gotten your bravery, though. I’m a coward.”

“You’re not a coward for not wanting to become an assassin. You’re just . . . a good person.” Levi’s statement made Arden laugh a bit, which was a sound that melted Levi’s heart.

Suddenly, you stepped into the hangout area, drawn in by the sound of laughter.

“Hi Mom,” Arden greeted.

“Everything alright?” You approached the two of them.

“Yeah,” Levi paused. “I was just telling him that he kinda looks like me.”

“Oh,” You looked over at Arden. “Hey, I wanna talk to Levi. Can you give us a minute?”

“Sure,” the boy happily left, secretly hoping that any shared moments between you and his father would someday lead to his dream coming true.

“What’s wrong?” Levi questioned once Arden walked down the hallway.

“I just had something to say,” taking a deep breath, you looked into Levi’s eyes. “I know it’s gonna take a while for us to figure everything out, and I won’t lie and act like I’m not scared. But, I just wanted to let you know that I’m . . . willing to try and work it all out. I want you to be part of my life.”

“Good,” Levi reached for your hand, and he held it. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Shyly, you looked down at the ground. Levi wished that he could kiss you — you were just too cute.

“Do you wanna take a walk with me, or something? And we can talk it all through?”

“Of course,” Levi ran his thumb over the back of your hand, and softly, you grinned.

Together, you and Levi headed outdoors, and Arden crossed his fingers, hoping for the best.

As you both strolled down the cobblestone streets, Levi not daring to let go of your hand, you figured that, perhaps, you wouldn’t have any regrets at all.

—

♡ — : @casey1-2007 @star-toruu @birbbb @axkermanrenn @hypocritic-trash-baby @chaotic-on-main @secret-collective @fairyeoll @idkwhattfimdoinghere @slytherwin @simpingforbelphegor @multifandom-03 @everlovinglove @yoriloveusodamnmuch @luvkvni @animeboyfriend01 @saik-k @pluckyduxck

[nexkoyotl]

Warrior dump facts.

As a teenager, The Warriors was my special interests and I LOVE the movie and I used to play the Rockstar game when i was younger and now I LOVE the Lin & Eisa album so, here are some facts from the movie (+the comics) and game (Not canon to each other) to give you guys ideas for fanfics, fanarts, etc.

I'll refer to them as their masculine counterpart since I'm talking about the movie/comic/game, where all (except Mercy) are men.

Warrior facts.

The most known fact, 2 warriors weren't included in the album, Vermin and Snow

The Warriors get their money by mugging, and selling Stereos they steal from cars

Cleon has a Girlfriend named Lincoln, she was supposed to appear at the start of the movie but they deleted the scene

Mercy hated that his then boyfriend Sully (Yes, the guy from the Orphans) care more for his car

The warriors and the riffs brake Ajax out of prison

Cochise lived in Harlem until he and his mother moved to Brooklyn

Rembrandt is gay

Ajax has like a few girlfriends

The warriors started as part of another gang "The Destroyers" they had problems with the leader so Cleon and Vermin left and formed the Warriors

(Not sure if this is true) Fox was supposed to be Mercy's love interest at first

The warriors make some Coney businesses pay them for protection, 25$ weekly I think

Their hangout is an old abandoned building that, to me, looked like a storage for the amusement park

Cochise lived in Harlem, yes but didn't join the boppers 'cuse he thought they weren't tough and he didn't like their colors.

In a deleted scene, Cleon said there's like 120 warrior members

Mercy dated a rich guy. He gets her an apartment and other stuff. This, of course, causes trouble between her and Swan

Ajax sucks at pinball

Rembrandt can use both hands, he's ambidextrous (dunno if I wrote it right)

Cowboy is really protective of his hat, and calls it buddy

Rembrandt also goes to an art class

Swan was a destroyer too, but him and Cowboy left the gang before Cleon created the warriors

Then Cleon ask Swan to join the warriors, and he accepts only under the condition of them accepting cowboy too

Only Cleon, Vermin, Swan, and Cowboy were Destroyers first. The rest arrived directly to the Warriors

Mercy dated the rich guy to get her apartment because she thought the Warriors life was no way to live

Technically, Mercy and Swan are not really together, tho Swan insist for her to go back to Coney with him

They (Mercy and Swan) end up reconciliating, and she goes back to living with him in Coney

Rembrandt sprays paint on his enemies faces as a fighting attack

Before Fox, they also lost a member named Ash, the leader of the Destroyers killed him

He (Ash) was also really close to Vermin, and his death affects him pretty deeply

Rembrandt's art teacher tries to convince him that the gang is only using him and to leave it so he drops his class

Mercy was not only Sully's girlfriend but also the Orphans' prostitute

Rembrandt gives Swan a drawing of Mercy that he made for him

After Cyrus' death, everything went back to the "normal". The truce was off, and the gangs went against each other again

This is not an IN movie/game fact, just a movie/game fact, but still interesting

You may know the movie symbol, a skull with feathers. Well, this symbol looked too similar to an actual gang that sued them, so it changed to a snake in flames

These are some of it, if I remember more, I'll do another list, but I think this are the most important. Do with this information as you guys pleased.

[bebe-writes-stuff]

Kazutora x Y/n smut

--TWO SMUTS IN ONE DAY??? crazy ik, we on a grind ho--

--bitchhh I can't write smut It makes me so embarrassed istg I PHYSICALLY CANT DO IT HELP MEEE----

The evening air was cool at Musashi Shrine, the tranquility punctuated by the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of city life. Kazutora sat on the shrine steps, his shoulders slumped, eyes reflecting the turmoil inside him. Y/n watched him quietly, her heart heavy with concern. The gang meeting had ended hours ago, but Kazutora lingered, reluctant to face the chaos of his home life.

Kazutora sighed deeply, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I just don't want to go home, Y/n. I can't deal with my family right now."

Y/n's eyes softened with empathy as she moved closer, her hand gently touching his arm. "I get it, Kazutora. I know." She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face as an idea formed. "Why don't you stay with me tonight? My parents are out of the city for the next three days, and I'm all alone."

Kazutora's eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over him. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

"Of course, I'm sure!" Y/n grinned, playfully nudging him with her shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun. We can have a mini sleepover."

Kazutora chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. "Alright, if you insist."

The walk to Y/n's house was filled with light banter, the weight of Kazutora's troubles momentarily lifting. As they stepped inside, Y/n's excitement was palpable. She dashed to the kitchen, grabbing an assortment of snacks before leading Kazutora to her room.

"Make yourself comfortable," she said, spreading the snacks out on her bed and turning on the TV. "I've got all the good shows lined up."

Kazutora couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "You're really going all out, huh?"

"Absolutely," Y/n replied, plopping down beside him and popping open a bag of chips. "Oh, and I got you some PJs from my dad's closet. They should fit you."

Kazutora took the offered pajamas with a grateful nod. "Thanks, Y/n. You're the best."

Y/n beamed. "I know," she teased, sticking her tongue out playfully. "Now, let's get comfy and enjoy the night."

After changing into the pajamas, Kazutora joined Y/n on the bed, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. They watched TV, laughing at the absurdity of the show they had picked. Y/n's lighthearted commentary had Kazutora in stitches, his laughter filling the room.

"I can't believe you find this so funny," Kazutora said between chuckles. "You're ridiculous."

"It's called having a good sense of humor," Y/n retorted

As the night went on, Y/n pulled out her skincare routine, explaining each step with an endearing seriousness. Kazutora listened intently, his heart swelling at her genuine care and attention.

"First, we cleanse," she said, holding up a bottle of face wash. "You gotta get rid of all the dirt and grime from the day."

Kazutora followed her lead, mimicking her movements. "You really know your stuff, huh?"

"Of course! Skincare is important," Y/n replied with a wink. "Next, we tone. This helps to balance your skin's pH."

Kazutora nodded, fascinated by her dedication. "You're really something else, Y/n."

She grinned, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. "I just want you to feel good, Kazutora."

By the time they finished, Kazutora felt a strange mix of calm and elation. Turning off the TV, Y/n flopped back onto the bed, a content sigh escaping her lips. Kazutora joined her, and they started gossiping about random things, their laughter filling the room once more.

As they chatted, they involuntarily edged closer, the space between them shrinking. At one point, Kazutora's gaze lingered on Y/n's lips, a thought forming in his mind.

"Y/n," he began hesitantly, his voice soft. "Can I ask you something?"

Y/n turned to him, curiosity shining in her eyes. "What's up?"

Kazutora took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "Can I kiss you?"

A surprised look crossed Y/n's face, followed by a shy smile. "Yeah, you can."

He leaned in slowly, their lips meeting in a gentle, tentative kiss. The simplicity of it made Y/n's heart flutter. What started as a sweet kiss quickly deepened, the intensity growing between them. Kazutora's hand cupped Y/n's cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

As their kisses grew more fervent, they found themselves entangled, bodies pressing closer together. Kazutora's breath hitched as Y/n's hand roamed over his chest, her touch igniting a fire within him.

"Y/n," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire. "You're driving me crazy."

Y/n responded by pressing her body against his, her hands sliding down to his waistband. She began to rub him through his clothes, feeling him grow harder under her touch. Kazutora groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"Fuck, Y/n," he gasped, his voice raw with need. "You feel so good."

Emboldened by his reaction, Y/n slipped her hand into his pants, wrapping her fingers around his throbbing length. She started to stroke him, her movements slow and deliberate, feeling him twitch in her grasp. Kazutora's breaths came in ragged gasps, his eyes fluttering shut. Without a word, Y/n lowered her head, taking him into her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, and Kazutora's hands tangled in her hair as she worked him with her lips and tongue. The heat of her mouth and the expert movements of her tongue drove him wild. His climax hit him hard, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he released into her mouth.

As he came down from his high, Kazutora pulled Y/n up into his arms, kissing her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. "You have no idea what you do to me," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and lingering desire.

Y/n smiled, snuggling into his embrace. "I think I have some idea," she replied, her voice soft and affectionate.